When I came back from New York I went straight to the Inn Style Barbershop and had Patty cut my hair the way it’s always been cut. Then I went home and shaved off my beard. Which, if you’ve never shaved off a beard, is not as easy as you might think. I rinsed out the sink, took a shower, and patted on some Club Man aftershave, which Susan laughed at but I liked. I put on beige slacks, sand-colored suede loafers, a white oxford shirt with a button-down collar, and a blue blazer to hide my gun. I put a white silk handkerchief in the display pocket of the blazer, checked myself in the mirror, and noticed that I looked entirely dashing, and went to Susan’s house. I got there just as her last patient was coming out the front door. I went in, making no eye contact, and was standing in her front hall when she came out of her office in her tailored blue suit with the white blouse and her dark hair perfectly in place. She froze in mid-step when she saw me. I opened my arms and she stared at me for a moment as if she didn’t understand, then the angularity went away and she stepped in against me and pressed her face against my chest.
“He didn’t kill you,” she said after a long time.
“Not hardly.”
“Did you kill him?”
“He’s in jail,” I said.
“Will he get out?”
“Maybe, but he’s no threat to us anymore.”
She stayed with her face against my chest and her arms around my waist under the handsome brass hanging lamp that ornamented her front entry hall. I could feel her body trembling slightly. I didn’t say anything. Neither did she. Finally she pulled away and looked at me. Her eyes were red. There were tears on her face.
“You appear to be crying,” I said.
“Yes, and it’s beating hell out of my eye makeup.”
“Doesn’t make you look less beautiful,” I said.
“Yes, it does,” she said. “I had talked myself into it, that maybe this time you wouldn’t come back. That this time you met somebody too good for you and you’d been hurt, and I knew you had to do this. I knew I wouldn’t even want to be with the man you’d be if you didn’t do this and you allowed me to talk you out of it, and I told myself that loving you meant letting you be you, and I was ready when Quirk, or Belson, or Hawk came and told me.”
She was holding herself from me at arm’s length looking straight at me with the tears washing down her face.
“And when they did I would have been brave and when they left me I would have wanted to die.”
I didn’t have anything to say.
“And here you come, looking just like you always have, with your hair cut and your face shaved and smelling, good God, is it Club Man?”
“Yes.”
She shook her head.
“And we’re supposed to be all right again and just like we were.”
“Yes.”
“Well, maybe I can’t rebound that quickly.”
“I think you can,” I said.
“Who gives a fuck,” Susan said, “what you think.”
“Good point,” I said carefully.
“Yeah, well, maybe I do care what you think.”
“I bet you do,” I said.
“And maybe I can rebound. God knows I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Both of us have had to rebound,” I said. “We’ll be okay.”
“Okay?” Susan said. “Just okay?”
“How do you think we’ll be?” I said.
“I think we’ll be goddamned sensational,” she said.
“Would you like me to hug you again?” I said.
“Yes, but there have to be changes.”
“Like what?” I said.
“Like you have to get rid of that goddamned Club Man.”
I pulled her slowly in against me and held her.
“Would you be able to love the man I’d be if I let you talk me out of it?” I said.
“Oh, fuck you,” Susan said and put her face up and I kissed her and she kissed me back so hard that I was grateful I was bigger.