at the dinner table with these concussive blasts of intelligence.
But Sophieâs family role was peacemaker, mood reflector. Since Jessie came home, all that intelligence had gone dark.
What could you do? Family is family.
Charlene had to be thinking along the same lines as me, because she said, âHowâs Roy?â
I shrugged. âYou know as much as I know. Still out in the Berkshires with his mother. Iâve been trying to get him here to ride the dirt bikes. Been leaving messages.â
We were quiet awhile.
Charlene scratched my shoulder. âWhat happened after the meeting? I got a half-dozen calls from Barnburners. People said the cops were checking up on you and that boy you brought.â
I told her the whole thing. It took a while. Halfway through the story she rose, tugged my hand, and led me upstairs to her bedroom. I liked that. Then she stroked my hair while I spoke. I liked that too.
When I was done, Charlene, pillow-propped on the bed now, was quiet a few seconds. âBefore noon today,â she finally said, âthree different Barnburners called to tell me about this Andrade beating. Like all gossips, they had parts of the story wrong. But they had the gist of it right.â
âHow the hell did word get out?â
She shrugged. âThe point is, a lot of people are unhappy about it. Thereâs grumbling about the things you do, Conway. The favors. The muscle stuff.â
âDo they think I do it for fun ? People come to us screwed up in ugly ways. I get them out of jams. And only when Iâm asked to.â
âI realize that, and I realize that some of the bitchers and moaners are the ones who were once in the ugliest jams.â Charlene let a finger play through my hair. âThatâs half the problem, Conway. People who need help from a man with your talents donât like to be reminded of the fact years later.â
I nodded. âFair enough. Now I know the holier-than-thous are eyeballing me.â
Charlene put her head on my shoulder. âAre you worried for Gus?â
âI donât know. I think so. Yes. I have to be worried for him.â
âWhatâs he like?â
âCokehead. Rehab kid. College kid. Big bullshitter. Probably doing AA because Daddy made him. I had to guess, Iâd say heâll quit the coke and drink like a fish for the next twenty years. Then heâll come back to AA for real.â
âHarsh.â
âHonest.â
âBut you care about him a lot.â
I waved a hand. âIâm just helping out a Barnburner.â
âNonsense.â She smiled.
âOkay. I like the kid. Heâs got a heart. Heâs scared. If he works at it, he could be a man.â
âWhatâs your next move? As if I didnât know.â
âI need to figure out whoâs got a problem with Gus.â
âAnd look into it.â She sighed as she spoke.
âOf course.â
âConway Sax takes in another stray.â She said it softly. âHe reminds you of your son. You can admit it to me. You might even want to admit it to yourself.â
âEverybodyâs a damn shrink.â
âYou donât have to be much of one to see it.â
âI know,â I said. âBut thereâs more to it.â
Charlene stroked my hair, said nothing.
âYou should have seen the cops and EMTs coming out of this halfway house,â I said. âCould barely keep their lunch down, some of âem, and they were hard-core pros. I didnât want to spook Gus, so I played it light. But it looks like some serious cats want him dead.â
â If they wanted him dead, and not the poor boy they actually shot.â
âYeah. If. But thatâs the way I see it.â
âOf course it is. Because itâs an excuse to take in a stray.â
Most nights, that wouldâve set me off, started a fight. But the way Charlene was stroking my hair made it hard to get