The Girl Next Door (22 page)

“Calvin, are you ready to go?” asked the woman in the gray coat.

“My aunt and uncle,” Calvin said apologetically to Jimmy and Nina. He turned back
to the older woman. “Just a minute. My friends are here.” He exhaled a cloud of smoke
and closed his eyes in relief. “God, I’m glad that’s over,” he said. He took another
deep drag and clapped Jimmy on the back with his free hand. “Thanks for being here,
Jim.”

Jimmy blushed, and indicated Nina, who was standing quietly,
looking around the cemetery. “You remember my sister, Nina,” Jimmy said to Calvin.

“Yeah, thanks for coming, Nina,” said Calvin.

The cemetery was peaceful and apparently empty now except for the black pickup truck
that had been parked on the shoulder when Nina came in. She saw it rolling slowly
toward them down the winding road. Calvin turned and looked at his mother’s coffin
for a moment, a thoughtful look in his gray eyes. “This bites,” he said. Then he turned
to Jimmy. “Look, man, we gotta talk. I mean, she had a shit life, but still, it’s
not fair for them to go saying she killed your old man. ’Cause she did not do it.
She had a cup of coffee with him and she gave him my phone number. That’s it.” Calvin’s
restless gaze traveled over the nearby headstones, as if seeking something. “That’s
all it was.”

“Did he call you?” Nina asked abruptly.

“Yeah,” said Calvin. “He called me.” Calvin looked at Jimmy accusingly. “He said you
told him everything.”

“Mears!”

They all turned around. The black pickup truck had come to a halt at the foot of the
sloping hillside and a heavyset man with graying hair had emerged from the car. He
was wearing work boots and a bulky hooded sweatshirt, and he was holding a baseball
bat in his meaty hand.

“Oh shit,” said Calvin, his gray eyes widening. “It’s Keefer.” Calvin turned to his
uncle. “It’s him,” he said. The stocky man in the checked jacket nodded and slid silently
into place beside his nephew.

“Don’t say anything to him,” the older man advised. “Let me do the talking.”

“I told you I’d catch up to you, Mears,” the man in the sweatshirt announced in a
threatening voice as he started up the incline. “You thought you could just slip in
and out of town
without me knowing. Sorry, buddy. There’s a lot of people around here with long memories.”

“Hey, man, this is my mother’s funeral. Have a little respect,” Calvin called out
indignantly, but his voice had a quaver.

Calvin’s uncle nudged him. “I told you to shut up.” He turned around and spoke in
a low voice to his wife. “Sally, go get in the car.”

The woman in the gray coat let out a little cry, but her husband scowled at her. “Now,”
he said, and this time the woman obeyed, looking anxiously back at them as she descended
the little hill to their sedan.

Keefer continued advancing on them, swinging the bat like a pendulum.

“Oh, Christ,” said Jimmy. “This could get ugly.” He dropped his cigarette, ground
it with his boot, and started toward Calvin. Nina grabbed her brother by the hand
and tried to jerk him back.

Calvin’s uncle unbuttoned his jacket to reveal a shoulder holster. “Look, Mr. Keefer,”
he called out to the man in the sweatshirt. “My name is Joe Jenkins, and I’m a police
officer, so before you start anything, you should know that. I know all about your
beef. My nephew here don’t want no trouble. We just buried his mother, and we want
to leave this place in peace, understood?”

Keefer stopped where he was and glared at the man’s gun in the holster.

The two cemetery workers who had been watching this encounter crouched down behind
a headstone.

“You gonna shoot me?” Keefer demanded.

“If I have to,” said Jenkins.

“That bastard killed my little girl,” Keefer cried.

The veteran policeman spoke calmly. “It was a drug situation, sir. I’m not defending
him, believe me. But your daughter died because she did too many drugs.”

Keefer raised the bat and shook it at Calvin. “He gave them
to her. He knew what would happen. She was pregnant with his baby and he didn’t want
to support a kid.”

Calvin’s uncle shook his head sadly. “Mr. Keefer,” he said, “Calvin didn’t have to
kill your daughter because she was pregnant. All he hadda do was walk away. Which
is just what he would have done. Wouldn’t ya, Cal?” he said, cuffing Calvin on the
head.

Keefer stood staring at them, the bat raised, his shoulders hunched.

Jenkins walked slowly toward the enraged father and spoke quietly. “I’m guessing you’ve
got a wife, and other kids, and maybe even grandchildren. They all need you. You probably
got a job and a house. You crack his skull and you lose everything.”

“But he killed my baby,” Keefer protested, and his voice cracked. “He’s the one who
gave her the dope.”

Jenkins shook his head. “You go on home now, Mr. Keefer, and don’t get yourself in
any trouble. Because this guy’s not worth it.”

Keefer glared at Calvin, who stood stock-still, watching the exchange. Calvin’s uncle
turned and grabbed his nephew by the upper arm. “Come on,” he said. He pointed a finger
at Keefer. “Stay right where you are, sir,” he advised, as he dragged Calvin along
with him. Calvin kept looking back at Keefer, but Keefer’s shoulders had slumped.
He watched them depart and then walked heavily over to a cast cement bench under a
nearby tree and sank down on it, dropping the bat to the ground.

“We better get out of here, too,” said Jimmy.

Nina did not budge. “What did he mean, you told him everything? What did you tell
Dad?”

Jimmy was stone-faced.

“I swear to God, Jimmy. If you don’t answer me …”

“Okay, okay,” he said with a sigh. “But not here. Follow me in your car.”

S
NOW
flurries swirled around the Volvo as Nina followed Jimmy’s car. She hunched forward
in the driver’s seat, her neck muscles tense as she kept the Saturn in view through
the mist of flakes.

Where the hell is he going? she thought angrily. She hadn’t thought to ask him where
he was heading, and she hated driving like this, not knowing where he intended to
lead her. For one terrible moment she realized that he might be trying to shake her.
They had left the Hoffman city limits and entered Port Regent, a run-down, working-class
town. Nina didn’t recognize the neighborhood where he had led her, a deserted area
where rows of warehouses stored freight for trucking lines. Nina started to mutter
at Jimmy under her breath when suddenly she saw his blinker indicating that he was
pulling over. Through the dingy white veil of flurries in the sky she saw a blinking
neon sign over a low corner building that read
THE END
ZONE
. The window of the old building also had a neon sign, partially lit, which read
BAR AND GRILL
.

Jimmy parked and turned off his lights. Nina followed suit and got out of the car.
A few scattered cars were parked near the corner. In this neighborhood of featureless
warehouses the bar was the only place in sight that did not look utterly lifeless.

Sliding a little on the leather soles of her boots, Nina shuffled along holding on
to a chain-link fence to where her brother stood waiting.

“What are we doing here?” she said.

“Let’s go in,” he said.

“It’s a bar, Jimmy.”

“I know it’s a bar, Nina,” he said irritably. “Our carpet warehouse is just across
the street. So when I have time to kill I come in and relax a little bit. Okay?”

“Okay, okay,” she said. She followed him down some steps to a heavy double door, which
he opened. Inside, she saw darkness and smelled cigarette smoke and stale beer.

Jimmy took his coat off and hung it up on a hook just inside the door. When he reached
out a hand for Nina’s, she shook her head.

“No, thanks, I’ll keep it,” she said.

Jimmy shrugged. “All right,” he said. “Follow me.”

It was easier said than done, at first, but in a few moments her eyes adjusted to
the gloom. It was a long narrow place with an old mahogany bar, obviously the pride
and joy of the owner, because despite its many scars, it did have a rich patina. The
floor of the bar was tiled in tiny white octagons, many of which were missing, with
grout gone to dirt in the empty spots. The ceiling was tin and the tables were round
and battered, with glass ashtrays liberally distributed on the tabletops and utilitarian
wooden chairs surrounding them. In the back were a pool table and an ancient jukebox.
It was the kind of bar that would
get a gentle refurbishment in midtown Manhattan, Nina thought, and quickly become
a fashionable hangout. Here in the suburbs, people’s idea of a bar was Applebee’s
or T.G.I. Fridays. This bar was in a neighborhood few people from Hoffman would want
to frequent.

This gloomy afternoon The End Zone was about half full of men in down vests and heavy
work boots. Guffaws and smoke rings hung in the air. At the end of the bar, ESPN was
playing on the suspended television, the sound too low to be heard as anything other
than more noise. Aside from the two waitresses, Nina was the only woman in the place.

Jimmy took a table and sat down, pointing out a chair for his sister. Nina sat and
looked around her, studying the crowd and the atmosphere.

“You don’t need to look so superior,” said Jimmy.

Nina turned and looked at her brother. “I’m just looking around. Do you mind?”

“Take your coat off,” said Jim.

Nina removed her coat and laid it on a chair beside her.

A blond-haired girl with coarse-looking skin came up to their table holding a tray
under her arm. She was wearing jeans and a tight black T-shirt that said BABY LOVE
on it. “Hey, Jimmy,” she said.

“Hey, Rita,” Jimmy said sheepishly, avoiding Nina’s questioning gaze.

“Who’s your friend?”

“My sister, Nina. This is Rita.”

Nina smiled thinly and then looked at Jimmy. Clearly, he was no stranger here. “What’ll
you have?” asked the waitress.

Jimmy tapped his fingertips lightly on the edge of the table. “I’ll have a … Guinness,”
he said.

“No Coke for you?” Rita asked, clearly surprised.

“I’m not working today,” he said. “It’s my day off.”

Nina looked at him in consternation. She didn’t want to make a scene in front of the
waitress. “Just club soda,” she said.

“And bring us some chips,” said Jimmy, still not looking at Nina.

The waitress left and Jimmy sat with his back against the wall, pretending to be absorbed
by the game of pool that was going on at the table beyond where they were sitting.

“Jimmy,” said Nina.

Jimmy turned and she saw the baleful look in his eye. “What?” he demanded.

“What about … I thought you didn’t drink,” said Nina.

“One isn’t going to kill me,” he said.

“I thought that was against the rules,” said Nina.

“What rules?” he demanded. “I’m a grown man, Nina. I make the rules.”

“You know what I mean,” said Nina. “Your program.”

“I know what you mean. You don’t think I can handle it,” he said defensively.

“I’m not judging you,” she said.

“Right,” said Jimmy.

Nina hesitated. “What about the Connellys … ?”

“What?” he cried. “You going to call my family and tattle on me?”

Nina was silent. His family. It still stung to know that he regarded other people
as his family. Then again, there wasn’t much left to the family he had started with.
Maybe she just envied him that luxury. People who really cared, who would really be
upset if they knew that he was going to have a beer. “No. I’m just worried about you.”

Rita returned and set down their drinks. Jimmy stared at the dark beer but did not
pick up the glass. “Don’t. Please. Don’t worry about me.”

Nina saw the expression of dread in his eyes. He looked like
a man facing his own execution, and she knew it was their conversation that he was
dreading. Maybe she shouldn’t force him. Maybe if she dropped the whole thing, he
would pour out his beer and they could leave. But at the same time, she knew that
intentionally or not, this was exactly what he wanted her to do. He wanted her to
feel guilty and stop hounding him for answers. No, she thought. I won’t. I can’t.
She took a deep breath. “Why did Dad call Calvin Mears?”

“I’m not sure,” Jimmy said evasively.

Nina peered at him and when she spoke there was an edge in her voice. “I don’t believe
that for one minute. You told me yourself that you talked to Dad while I was in New
York. What did you two talk about? What did it have to do with Calvin?”

Jimmy sighed and stared at his glass. But he didn’t pick it up. For a minute, Nina
thought he was going to refuse to answer her. Then, at last, he spoke. “I went to
see him,” said Jimmy. “I told you that.”

“Yes,” said Nina. “While I was out of town. You mentioned that. Why? It wasn’t just
to talk about old times, was it?”

Jimmy shook his head and sighed. “One of the steps in AA—you’re supposed to apologize
to the people you wronged. You know, make your peace with them. Admit that what you
did while you were drinking may have hurt them. You know?”

“Yeah. I remember when you did that with me. That was years ago. And I remember telling
you that you hadn’t ever really wronged me. I said that the only one you hurt was
yourself,” she said.

“Well,” he said, staring at the drink sitting in front of him. “That wasn’t exactly
true. There was something that I didn’t tell anyone. Not you, not anyone. I never
really finished with that step because … I never actually … apologized to Dad.”

“Apologized for what?” Nina asked. Then she looked at him through narrowed eyes. “Jimmy,
are you trying to avoid my
question? What has this twelve-step business got to do with Calvin Mears?”

“I’m not avoiding anything,” he said. “I’m trying to explain …”

“All right. Sorry,” she said. “Go on.”

He reached out to his glass and put his hand around it, studying the drink in his
hand as if it were a jewel with a curse on it. “I never wanted you to know any of
this. You’re going to hate me.”