Freaky Deaky

There was a silence on the line. Now that he was facing it he wasn't sure what to say. Moving in with a young lady and going apartment-hunting with her were two different things. He was glad Greta didn't say anything cute.

"My dad's coming home this afternoon. I have to meet them at the airport."

"I have to wait for the real estate guy to call me back," Greta said.

"He thinks maybe he can find me something, but if he doesn't… I don't know, I'll call a few more."

Giving him his cue again. Chris said, "Well, listen, after I get back from the airport, how about if we go out, get something to eat?"

"Sounds good."

There was another silence.

"I'd help you look for a place, but I have to wait for my dad to call."

"That's okay."

"See if they get an earlier flight. Then I'll be over soon as I can."

"Fine, but you better call first."

"Okay."

"If I have to go out I'll leave a message on the answering thing, when I'll be back, okay?"

He didn't want to hang up.

"I couldn't call you last night. I got into something… Well, I'll tell you about it. What did you do?"

"Nothing. Watched television and went to bed." She said, "Chris, I miss you."

"I miss you too. I wish you were here."

"I'm gonna have to hire a mover, for my stuff."

"I can get a truck. Don't worry about it."

She said, "What would I do without you?"

They said goodbye right after that and hung up, and he wondered if she was being sarcastic. Except she'd said she missed him. He thought maybe she sounded different.

Yesterday she thought he was different. They weren't yet in touch with what slight change meant in each other. He shouldn't assume anything, outside of she was a little more serious, her mind taken up with finding a place to live, and he hadn't been any help to her at all. He should call her back and tell her there was nothing to worry about, they'd find a place.

Or tell her at least that he'd help her find a place.

Or talk about something else. Tell her about Juicy.

She might not think living together was such a good idea anyway. This soon.

If his dad and Esther got on the flight that arrived at three thirty, they'd be at the Toronto airport by two-something. Leave the hotel an hour before that… He'd have to leave here by two, drive all the way to Metro, find a place to park… He'd have time if he left right now to stop off and see Donnell first. Except it wasn't a stop-off kind of job.

Holding the gun on the guy, say, "We'll have to finish this later. I have to go pick up my dad." Shit, he'd have to stop off at 1300 and reload the Clock or else pick up a box of nines somewhere. Find a gun shop open on Sunday. He had to see Donnell today. Locate Robin and Skip. Be ready for Monday morning. He should've told his dad he was working or made something up. There was nothing worse than waiting for a phone to ring when you knew it might not.

And it didn't.

Two P.M. he was ready to leave, wearing a blue button down shirt and khakis, and didn't feel right. For six years he'd never left wherever he was living without his SpyderCo knife, his Mini-Mag flashlight and a gun, things you needed pockets for. So he put on his beige sportcoat.

Then put on a faded red tie and felt better. He left the apartment a little after two and made one stop, at 1300, went up to Firearms and Explosives and reloaded the Clock auto. He considered taking along a box of 9-millimeters but decided against it. If he couldn't scare the shit out of Donnell with seventeen rounds he had no business trying.

Mis dad came off the plane with a dazed look, shaking his head, his raincoat and Esther's mink over one arm. He put the other arm around Chris and they gave each other a kiss on the cheek. Chris went to Esther, flashing her blue-shadowed, sixty-four-year-old eyes at him, hunched over and gave her a kiss while his dad told them they shouldn't make up a schedule if it don't mean anything.

Look at what time it was, seven thirty, for Christ sake.

Standing there talking about it. Moving finally, creeping along, Esther telling about Toronto, asking him to guess who they saw, staying at the Sutton Place. Touching his arm and stopping in the crowded aisle of the terminal to tell him: Tom Selleck. And the one who was in "Cheers," Ted Danson. His dad saying, And that broad, what's her name, the blonde. Esther saying, Kathleen Turner, staying at the same hotel, they saw her in the lobby, twice… Chris trying to move them through the crowd, get them out of there.

It was after nine by the time they'd crossed Detroit and reached St.

Clair Shores. Chris had to help Esther up with her luggage and then stand in the doorway while she told him what a fine man his dad was, Chris nodding-till he opened his sportcoat and put his hands on his hips, let her notice the automatic stuck in his pants. Esther cut it short and said good night.

His dad wanted him to have a drink. Chris said, Just a short one, calling to him in the kitchen as he went down the hall to his dad's bedroom. He sat on the bed and dialed Greta's number.