Distant Thunder

18

Stone was wondering what he was going to do for dinner, when he got a call explaining it to him.

“Hi, it’s Vanessa. Let’s have dinner.”

“What a good idea!”

“Let’s try the new restaurant at the Carlyle,” she suggested.

“You’re just full of good ideas.”

“I’ll book, and I’ll meet you there at seven.”

“Done.” He hung up, his spirits lightened.

The place had been redone, and it was handsome — new décor and lots of flowers. They nestled into a corner table. Their drink order came, and they raised their glasses. “Do you want to hear the latest about John Collins?”

Before he could stop himself, he said, “Sure.”

“He’s not dead.”

Stone got his swallow down before he checked her face for signs that she was kidding. “No kidding?”

“No kidding. We talked on the phone for half an hour this afternoon. In fact, he suggested you and I have dinner together, and where.”

Stone surveyed the room.

“He’s not here,” she said. “I already checked.”

“So you’re not a widow anymore?”

“Nope.”

“I liked you as a widow.”

“Frankly, so did I, but I’m glad he’s all right. He’s recovering well from the gunshot wounds and the beating he took. He said they forced a bottle of vodka down his throat, but he threw up some of it.”

“Is there a punch line in here somewhere?” Stone asked.

“That’s what I was waiting for on the phone call, but it was full of little references that only he and I would have understood. It couldn’t have been faked.”

“How did he feel about being cremated and scattered at sea?”

“He thanked me for following his wishes.”

“Did he give you any sort of explanation or account of what happened?”

“He said I’d have to wait awhile, but that he would fully explain at a later date.”

“Did he say where he’s been since we last saw him?”

“In treatment and recovery.”

“Where?”

“He couldn’t say. I guess he’s afraid of it happening again.”

“Did he say who the guy was who spent a night in my garage in Maine?”

“No, and he wasn’t allowed to say what he was doing in Maine, either.”

“Does Lance Cabot know about this?”

“He said that Lance knows just about everything.”

“ ‘Just about’? He’s holding back something?”

“John always holds back. He tells me only what he wants me to know. He says it is for my protection.”

“The next time he calls, ask him if he’ll come over for a drink. I’d like to have a chat with him.”

“Funny, he suggested that he do that, when he’s better.”

“He knows who I am?”

“He didn’t at the time, but he does now.”

“You told him all about me, huh?”

“I did, and he was happy for me.”

“Well, as long as he’s happy, I guess it doesn’t matter if he’s dead.”

“You don’t seem to be taking the news very seriously, Stone.”

“Well, you sort of sprang it on me. I must say, I wasn’t expecting to hear it.”

“Life’s like that,” she said. “You think you know everything, and suddenly it jumps up and bites you in the ass.”

“You’re a philosopher, Vanessa. Are there any Greeks on your family tree?”

She laughed, then they ordered another drink and perused the menu.

Later, after they had made love, Stone started to ask a question, but Vanessa stopped him. “No more questions,” she said. “I’ve told you all I’m allowed to tell you.”

“Who’s doing the allowing?”

“I said, no more questions. If you have enough energy to ask me questions, use it to fuck me again.”

“As I said earlier, you’re just full of good ideas.” He took her advice.