Billy Straight

40

Petra stared at the doorway through which Stu had just passed, then she went after him.

He reappeared in the doorway before she got there. Cocking his head.

C'mere.

Oh yeah, faithful little junior partner will jump up on cue.

They locked eyes. His face was stone; no apologies. Deciding to maintain her dignity, she followed him down the stairs and out of the building to the rear lot, where his Suburban was parked. The truck, usually spotless, had dirty windows. Crusted bird droppings freckled the white hood.

She said, “What the hell's going on, Stu?”

He unlocked the passenger door, motioned for her to get in, came around and sat behind the wheel.

“We're not going anywhere,” she said, remaining outside. “Some of us have work to do.”

He stared through the windshield. Sun from the east traced the contours of his profile in orange. A paperback-book model couldn't have posed for greater effect. Everyone a goddamn actor.

Petra got in and slammed the door so hard the truck shook.

Stu said, “I owe you an explanation.”

“Okay.”

“Kathy has cancer.”

Petra's throat seized and closed, and for a moment she couldn't breathe. “Oh, Stu-”

He held up a finger. “She's going in for surgery tomorrow. She's been having tests done; we weren't sure. Now we are.”

“I'm so sorry, Stu.” Why didn't you tell me? Obviously, not close enough. Eight months of chasing bad guys doth not a deep relationship make.

“One breast,” he said. “Her doctor found it on routine checkup. They think it's just a single tumor.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Nothing, thanks, we're covered. Mother's taking the kids and Father's dealing with the hospital.”

His right arm rested on the center console. Petra put her hand on his sleeve. “Go home, Stu. Wil and I will handle everything.”

“No, that's the thing, I was going to take a leave of absence, but Kathy insisted I shouldn't. She wants me home tonight to take her to the hospital, told me I can stay until she falls asleep. And tomorrow, when she comes out of surgery, I'll be there. But in between she insists I keep working. Even when she gets radiation… maybe they can do just a lumpectomy, they're not sure.”

“You're planning to stay on the job?” said Petra.

“Kathy wants it. You know Kathy.”

Petra knew very little about Kathy. Gracious, pretty, efficient, supermom, never without makeup. High school prom queen, with a teaching credential she'd never used. During the family outings, Petra had observed a superorganizer.

A bit reserved- let's be honest, more than reserved. Despite superficial friendliness, the woman had always maintained distance, and Petra had thought of her as an ice queen.

Thirty-six years old. Six kids.

Petra thought of her own father, raising five children by himself. And all the while, Stu'd been fighting to maintain.

“She's so strong,” Stu said. “I've never slept with anyone else.”

Saying it with wonderment. Petra patted his arm.

“Most guys get tired of being with the same woman. All I ever wanted was Kathy. I really love her, Petra.”

“I know you do.”

“You try to do the right thing, live a certain way- I know there are no deals with God, He's got His own plan, but still…”

“She'll be fine,” said Petra. “It'll work out, you'll see.”

“Look at Ramsey,” he went on. “Has a healthy wife, does that to her. The Eggermann woman. All the things we see.”

He put his head down on the steering wheel, broke into startling, phlegmy sobs.

Vivian Boehlinger, now this.

This was different. This was part of her.

Petra reached over and held him.