Early Autumn

CHAPTER 8

The Giacomin house was on three levels. I had a room on the first. There was a lavatory with a shower across the hall from me. There was a family room with a Ping-Pong table next to me, and next to the lavatory across the hall was an office where Mel Giacomin had worked out of his house occasionally when he’d lived there. The next level was living room with a dining el and kitchen. The third level was a bathroom and three more bedrooms. Patty Giacomin slept up there and so did Paul.

The next morning I drove Paul to school at seven twenty-five. He didn’t eat any breakfast. When we left, his mother was in the bathroom with the door closed. I delivered him right to the school door.

When he got out, I said, “What time does school get over?”

He said, “Five after two, I guess. I don’t know exactly.”

I said, “When it gets out, I’ll be right here at this door. Don’t come out another one. Don’t go anywhere with anyone but me.”

He nodded and walked into the school. I noticed his hair wasn’t combed. I sat in the car and watched him until he was out of sight, then I turned and drove back to Emerson Road. Patty Giacomin was out of the bathroom, bathed and powdered and shiny with makeup. She had on a red apron with yellow flowers and underneath it a maroon silk blouse, white tapered pants, and white sandals. There was polish on her toenails. Coffee was perking in an electric pot, bacon was frying. Toast was in the toaster. The dining room table was set for two and the orange juice was all poured. There was jam out and butter on a plate.

“Sit down,” she said. “Breakfast is almost ready.”

“Paul doesn’t know what he’s missing, going off to school like that,” I said.

“Oh, he never eats breakfast. Hates it. I’m glad actually. He’s such a grouch in the morning. How do you like your eggs?”

“Over easy.”

“Sit,” she said. “It’s almost ready.”

I sat

“Drink your orange juice,” she said. “Don’t wait I’ll sit right down in a minute.”

I drank my orange juice. Frozen. The toast popped. Patty Giacomin put the four slices on a plate, put four more pieces of bread in to toast and put the plate on the table.

I said, “You want me to butter it?”

“Yes, thank you.”

I buttered the toast Patty put four strips of bacon and two eggs, over easy, on my plate and put my plate in front of me. She served herself one egg and two strips of bacon. Then she sat down and drank her orange juice.

“This is very nice,” I said.

“Well, if you’re going to be stuck here with a woman and a kid, I felt you should at least be treated right”

I poured some coffee first into her cup and then mine.

“You men will have to rough it this weekend though,” she said.

I ate a piece of bacon and a bite of egg.

“I’ll be going away for the weekend,” she said.

I nodded.

“I’m going to New York to visit friends.”

I nodded again, and ate some more.

“I go down every month, go to the theater, to a museum exhibit. It’s very stimulating.”

“Yeah,” I said. I finished up my eggs.

She ate a small bite of her egg. “Do you know New York, Mr. Spenser?”

“I know what everyone means when they say that. I know midtown Manhattan.”

“Yes, I suppose that’s true, isn’t it. That is what we mean by New York when we go to visit.” She drank some coffee.

“Who stayed with Paul before when you’d go? Pinkerton man?”

She smiled at me, “No, I hired a woman, Mrs. Travitz, normally. Sometimes Sally Washburn would come in. I always got someone.”

“You think Paul will mind staying alone with me?” I said.

She looked a little startled, as if I’d asked a dumb question.

“Oh, no. Paul likes you. He understands that I have to get away. That I must find some fulfillment of my own. He realizes I can’t just be a mother, as I couldn’t just be a wife.”

“Of course,” I said.

“It’s remarkable, I think, how long it took women to realize the value and need of self-actualization,” she said.

“Isn’t that amazing,” I said. “How long it took.”

“Yes, New York is my safety valve in a sense.”

“Get a chance to shop while you’re there,” I said.

She nodded. “Yes, usually I spend a day on Fifth Avenue.”

“Ever take Paul?”

“Oh, God, no. He wouldn’t have any fun and he’d just drag along. No, he’d spoil it. You don’t have children, do you?”

“Nope.”

She made a little snorting laugh. “You’re lucky,” she said. “Twice lucky, you’re a man and you have no children.”

“What about self-actualization and stuff?” I said.

“I meant it. I struggle for that. But what good is it for a single woman?”

“Why is being married so important?” I said.

“Because that’s where the bucks are,” she said. “And you know it”

“I’m not sure I know that, but I’ve never been married.”

“You know what I mean. Men have the money. A woman needs a man to get it.”

“I wonder if Gloria Steinem makes house calls,” I said.

“Oh, that’s crap,” Patty Giacomin said. Her color was high. “You probably mouth the liberal line like everyone else around here, but you know what’s reality all right. Men have the money and the power and if a woman wants some, she better get hold of a man.”

I shrugged. I was beginning to see where Paul had picked up the habit.

“I know some folks who might argue with you,” I said. “But I’m not one of them. I’m too busy counting my money and consolidating my power.”

She smiled. “You do look quite powerful,” she said. “Do you lift weights?”

“Sometimes,” I said.

“I thought so. My husband, my ex-husband, used to.”

“Not enough,” I said.

“That’s right, you’ve seen him, haven’t you. He’s gotten fat. But when we met he was really quite good-looking.”

“You really think he’ll make another try for Paul,” I said.

“Absolutely,” she said. “He’s, he’s…” She groped for words, “I don’t know, he’s like that. He has to get even. He can’t stand to lose.”

“Capture the flag,” I said.

“Excuse me?”

I shook my head. “Just musing aloud.”

“No, please tell me. You said something. Do you disapprove of me?”

“It’s not my business to approve or disapprove,” I said. “It’s my business to see that your kid is okay.”

“But you said something before. Please tell me.”

“I said capture the flag. The kid’s like a trophy you two are fighting for.”

“Well, that son of a bitch is not going to get him,” she said.

“That’s right,” I said.

“Why don’t you take your coffee into the living room and read the paper,” she said. “I’ll clean up here.”

I did.

She bustled about in her flowered apron and put the dishes away in the dishwasher and swept the floor. When my breakfast had settled and I’d finished the paper I went to my room and changed and went out to run.

The winter was over. The weather was good and somewhere the voice of the turtle was probably being heard. What I heard were mostly sparrows. I jogged toward the center of town, feeling the spring sun press on my back. There was still an edge to the air. It had not yet softened into summer. But by a mile I had a pleasant sweat working and my legs felt strong and my muscles felt loose. There were other joggers out, mostly women this time of day. Probably looking for a man to grab so they could cut in on the money and power. Probably why Susan had latched on to me. Poor old Patty. She’d read all the stuff in Cosmopolitan and knew all the language of self-actualization, but all she really wanted was to get a man with money and power.

Ahead of me a young woman was jogging. She had on the top of a beige-and-blue warmup suit and blue shorts cut high. I slowed down to stay behind her and appraise her stride in the high-cut shorts. Women looked realer in the spring. Like this one. She hadn’t had a chance to get this year’s tan yet and her legs were white and vulnerable-looking. Good legs though. I wondered if I offered her money and power if she’d jog with me. She might. On the other hand she might accelerate and run off and I wouldn’t be able to catch her. That would be humiliating. I picked up the pace and went past her. She had big gold hoop earrings on and she smiled a good-fellowship smile at me as I went past. I tried to look powerful and rich, but she didn’t hurry to catch me.

I cruised down through Lexington Center past the Minuteman and looped back in a wide circle to Emerson Road. It took about an hour and a quarter, which meant I’d done seven or eight miles. Patty’s car was gone. I did some stretching, took a shower, and dressed. I heard Patty’s car pull in. And when I went out, she was just breezing into the kitchen with some groceries.

“Hi,” she said. “Want some lunch?”

“Are you after my money and power?” I said.

She looked quickly sideways at me. “Maybe,” she said