“No. You were throwing punches at Carrie Grethen, at Joyce. It’s them you want to beat up, maim, kill.”
He took deep, defeated breaths.
“Don’t you think I know what you’re doing?” I -went on in an intense, quiet voice.
People were shadows drifting past us on the sidewalk. Light spilled out of brasseries and cafés that were having busy nights, their small outdoor tables full.
“You have to take it out on someone,” I went on. “That’s the way it works. And who is there to go after? Carrie and Joyce are dead.”
“At least you and Lucy got to kill the motherfuckers. Shoot their goddamn asses out of the air.” Marino began to sob.
“Come on;” I said.
I took his arm in mine and we started walking.
“I had nothing to do with killing them,” I said. “Not that I would have hesitated, Marino. But Lucy pulled the trigger. And you know what? She doesn’t feel the better for it. She still hates and simmers and beats and shoots her way through life. She’ll have her day of reckoning, too. And this is yours. Let it go.” ,
“Why did’ya have to go and do that with him?” he asked in a small, pained voice as he wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “How come, Doc? Why him?”
“There’s no one good enough for me, is that it?” I said.
He had to think about that.
“And there’s no one good enough for you. No one as good as Doris. When she divorced you, that was hard, wasn’t it? And I’ve never thought any woman you’ve been with since is even close to what she was. But we have to try, Marino. We have to live.”
“Yeah, and they all dumped me, too. Those women who ain’t good enough for me.”
“They dumped you because they’re bowling-alley bimbos.”
He smiled in the dark.
37
The streets of Paris were waking up and getting lively as Talley and I walked to the Café Runtz. The air was cool and felt good on my face, but I was anxious and full of doubt again. I wished I’d never come to France. When we crossed the Place de I’Opém and he reached for my hand; I wished I had never met Jay Talley.
His fingers were warm and strong and slender, and I never expected that such a gentle form of affection would jolt and revulse me when what we’d done in my room hours earlier had not. I felt ashamed of myself.
“I want you to know this matters to me,” he said. “I don’t have flings, Kay. I’m not into one-night stands. It’s important you know that.”
“Don’t fall in love with me, Jay.” I looked up at him.
His silence said everything about how thosé words made him feel.
“Jay, I’m not saying I don’t care.”
“You’ll really like this café,” he said. “It’s a secret. You’ll see. No one in here speaks anything but French and if you don’t speak French, you have to point on the menu or get out your little dictionary, and the owner will be amused by you. Odette is very no-nonsense but very nice.”
I was scarcely hearing a word.
“She and I have a détente. If she’s pleasant, I patronize her establishment. If I’m pleasant, she lets me patronize her establishment.”
“I want you to listen to me,” I said, slipping my hand up his arm and leaning against it. “The last thing I ever want to do is hurt anyone. I didn’t want to hurt you. And I already have.”
“How could I feel hurt? This afternoon was incredible.”
“Yes, it was,” I said. “But. . .”
He stopped on the sidewalk and looked into my eyes as people flowed around us and light from shops unevenly shoved back the night. I was raw and alive where he had touched me.
“I didn’t ask you to love me,” he said.
“That’s not something you should have to ask.”
We started walking again.
“I know it’s not something you freely offer, Kay,” he said. “Love is your loup-garou. The monster you fear. And I can see why. It’s tracked you down and hurt you all your life.”