17.

The sun shining through the window made a long, bright splash on the far wall of Dix’s office. Dix was at his desk. As always, he was immaculate. His white shirt gleamed. His bald head shone. The crease in his gray slacks could have been used to sharpen pencils. His cordovan loafers gleamed darkly.

“Why do you suppose she’s like that?” Jesse said to Dix.

“Sounds as if her career matters to her,” Dix said.

“More than I do,” Jesse said.

Dix shrugged.

“She’s still pursuing the career,” he said.

“And not me,” Jesse said.

“Is that true?” Dix said.

“No,” Jesse said. “She does still pursue me.”

Dix nodded. The air-conditioning made its quiet sound.

“Maybe she wants both,” Dix said.

“I don’t see why they’d be mutually exclusive,” Jesse said.

Dix was quiet. It was always amazing to Jesse how still Dix could be, and yet how clearly his stillness could speak. Jesse knew that in the language of psychotherapy, Dix was asking him to examine that issue.

“Do you?” Jesse said.

“I only know what you tell me,” Dix said.

“The hell you do,” Jesse said.

“I only know about you and about Jenn by listening to what you tell me about you and about Jenn.”

“And bringing to bear thirty years of training and experience to interpret what you heard,” Jesse said.

Dix smiled and tipped his head in acceptance.

“We won’t divert ourselves with the difference between knowing and interpreting,” Dix said. “Let’s just agree that my innocence is a fiction that is useful to the process.”

“Okay,” Jesse said. “What you know, if you’re a cop, is that what people say needs to be compared to what they do.”

Dix seemed to nod.

“So,” Jesse said, “Jenn left me to pursue her career but never quite let go, and has ricocheted between me and her career ever since.”

“What do you suppose her career represents to her?” Dix said.

“Represents?”

Dix again almost nodded.

“Sometimes,” Jesse said, “a cigar is just a cigar.”

Dix smiled.

“And sometimes it’s not,” Dix said.

They were quiet. The sunsplash on the wall had become longer.

“She started out trying to be an actress,” Jesse said, “and kind of morphed into a weather girl.”

“In California?” Dix said.

“No,” Jesse said. “Here.”

Dix nodded.

“I assume she came here because I was here,” Jesse said.

Dix nodded again.

“And then she morphed into a soft-feature reporter,” Jesse said. “She did a special on Race Week, few years ago.”

Dix waited.

“And then she sort of morphed into an investigative reporter when we had the big murder case last year.”

“Walton Weeks,” Dix said. “National news. How’d she draw that assignment?”

“Probably because she was my ex-wife,” Jesse said. “They figured it would give her access.”

“Did it?”

“Some,” Jesse said.

Dix waited.

“So I’m kind of tangled up in her career,” Jesse said.

Dix waited.

“And sometimes she exploits me,” Jesse said.

Dix didn’t move.

“And sometimes,” Jesse said, “it’s like she compromises her career because of me.”

Dix made no sign. Jesse didn’t say anything else for a while.

Then he said, “So her career and me are clearly tied together in some way.”

Dix looked interested. Jesse was silent again. Then he looked at Dix and spread his hands.

“So what?” he said. “I don’t know where to go with it.”

Dix was quiet for a long time. Then he apparently decided to prime the pump.

“What’s your career mean to you?” Dix said.

“Redemption,” Jesse said. “We already settled that in here.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Redemption for being a drunk and a lousy husband…” Jesse said.

“And for getting hurt,” Dix said, “and washing out of baseball?”

“Yeah, that, too.”

“Being a good cop is your chance,” Dix said.

“To be good at something,” Jesse said. “I know, we already talked about that.”

They were quiet again. Jesse had done this long enough to know that the fifty minutes were almost up.

“You think her career is her chance at redemption?” Jesse said.

“I don’t know,” Dix said. “What do you think?”

“Weather girl isn’t much of a redemption,” Jesse said.

“How about investigative reporter?”

Jesse nodded.

“I just demeaned her a little, didn’t I,” he said.

Dix didn’t answer.

“I must be madder at her than I know,” Jesse said.

“Almost certainly,” Dix said.

“You think she’s after redemption?” Jesse said.

Dix looked at his watch, as he always did before closing the session.

“We’ll have time to think about that on our own,” Dix said. “Until next time. Time’s up for today.”

“Hell,” Jesse said. “Just when it was getting good.”


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