Melancholy Baby

38

Sarah Markham called and said she wanted to see me. I suggested lunch at Spike’s, and when she showed up there at ten after noon, Rosie and I were already in a booth. Spike was behind the bar. He shot his forefinger at Sarah when she came in, and Sarah smiled slightly at him.

“They let you bring your dog?” she said as she sat down.

Rosie wagged her tail and put her face up so Sarah could kiss her if she wished, which, foolishly, she apparently didn’t.

“I’m friends with the owner.”

“Spike,” Sarah said.

“Un-huh.”

“What about the Board of Health?”

“Shh,” I said. “Rosie will hear you.”

Sarah smiled without much energy. Miranda came by. I was having iced tea. Sarah asked for beer.

“I didn’t really have any real reason,” she said, “to ask you to see me.”

“All reasons are real,” I said.

“I feel so isolated. I mean, I’m, like, investigating my parents. Woody is long gone.”

“The boyfriend.”

“Ex-boyfriend. Ever since those two guys beat him up.”

Her beer came. She drank it from the bottle.

“So, you’re alone and frightened and lonely,” I said.

“Yes.”

“That’s a good reason to come see me,” I said.

“It’s weird,” she said. “The only person I’m okay with is some stranger I hired.”

“We’re not strangers now,” I said. “How is it at home?”

“Awful. My father is, like, hurt, all the time. My mother...” She shook her head. “Basically, my mother won’t speak to me.”

“Who have you been closest to, growing up?” I said.

“My father.”

“Me, too,” I said.

“Was your mother bitchy?” Sarah said.

“She was, ah, difficult.”

“Did she love you?”

“Oh, yes, I think so. But she was limited. She could only love me if I did things that made her feel good.”

“So it was really about her and not you.”

“Maybe a little more complicated,” I said.

“My mother hates me.”

“Straight-out?” I said.

“Yes. She has always hated me.”

“Uncomplicated, I suppose. Why does she hate you?”

“Maybe because I’m not hers.”

“She says you’re hers.”

“Not to me,” Sarah said.

“I know,” I said. “You mentioned that. Do you have any suspicion, no matter how wild or childish, as to whose kid you might be if you aren’t theirs?”

“No.”

“Your father has agreed to have the DNA testing.”

“I know. He seems to feel very bad about it.”

“You’ll have to supply a sample,” I said.

She nodded.

“Tell me about the trust fund,” I said.

“My mother’s father left me some money in a trust fund. When I was eighteen, it came to me.”

“What was your grandfather’s name?”

“Carter.”

“That your mother’s maiden name?”

“Yes.”

“What was his first name?”

“I don’t know. He died before I was born. He’s always been just Grandpa Carter.”

“Grandmother?”

“No. None of my grandparents are alive.”

“Aunts and uncles?”

She shook her head.

“So, obviously no cousins,” I said.

“No.”

“And no current boyfriends.”

“Even if I did,” Sarah said. “I never went out with anybody worth anything.”

“Well, that is pretty much alone,” I said.

“You live alone,” she said.

“I live with Rosie,” I said.

“You know what I mean.”

I nodded.

“Maybe if I were older,” Sarah said. “Like you. Maybe I wouldn’t mind it so much.”

“You might,” I said.

“Do you?”

I thought about how to phrase it.

“I do mind it,” I said. “And I don’t.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Sarah said.

“I’m not sure yet,” I said.

“You just said it, and you don’t know what it means?”

“I want someone in my life,” I said. “But I can’t stand to live with anyone.”

“That’s weird,” Sarah said.

“Almost certainly,” I said.

“You ever live with anyone?”

“Yes.”

“And it didn’t work out?”

“No.”

“You broke up?”

“We got divorced,” I said.

“You were married?”

I looked at her and smiled. “Duh?” I said.

She thought about it, then smiled and nodded, and said, “Duh.”

Rosie had given up on the possibility that food would be served and was sprawled on her side next to me, snoring quietly, with my hand resting on her rib cage.

“Was that why you got divorced?” Sarah asked.

“At the time, I thought it was Richie,” I said, “that he pressed me too hard.”

“For what?” Sarah said.

“For intimacy, for children, for... I don’t know. He wanted too much of me.”

“I wish somebody wanted too much of me,” Sarah said.

“I know,” I said. “When you’re alone, you think there couldn’t be too much affection. When you get too much, and you don’t like it, you think, What’s wrong with me?”

“Did you think you loved him?” Sarah said.

“I know I did.”

“Do you now?”

“I think so.”

“Do you think you might get back together?”

I shook my head. “He’s remarried,” I said.

“People don’t always stay married,” Sarah said.

I smiled. “I don’t think it’s in my best interest,” I said, “to hang around hoping his marriage will fail.”

“This is pretty amazing,” Sarah said.

“That I’m divorced?”

“That you got problems. You’re, like, this really together babe.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“You even got a cool dog.”

“I do have a cool dog,” I said.

“You’re, like, not scared of things. Like everything’s under control. Like you know what to do and you know you’ll be able to do it.”

“Sometimes,” I said.

“But not always?”

“I doubt that there is anything that’s always.”

“But you’re always good at being a detective,” Sarah said.

I saw where this was going. If she couldn’t trust me, she had no one at all. And she was right.

“I am excellent at being a detective,” I said.

Miranda came over and put a large platter of nachos on the table between us. Rosie sat up alertly.

“Amuse-bouche,” Miranda said. “From Spike.”

I looked at Sarah and smiled. “I have cool friends,” I said, “too.”