The Art of Deception

Old Friends

The Great Lady inhabited the same wicker throne, a twinkle to her dark eyes that nearly hid behind the mass of flesh as she smiled at Boldt. Dumpling soup. Crispy beef with pea pods.

Egg-fried rice with gulf shrimp.

“You like, Mr. Both?”

“Tasty. Better than ever,” he said.

“Why eyes so sad? You clear up Billy Chen. He make no mistake on job. Prove again what great friend you are to an old lady.”

“Friendships are complicated. You helped me out, too.”

“You got woman problem.” Mama Lu made it a statement with no room for argument.

“I’ve got a wonderful wife I love and terrific kids, Great Lady.”

“You still got woman problem,” she said.

He laughed aloud. He thought it might have been the first time he’d ever laughed in her company, and he wondered if it was bad form. He apologized, excusing himself, just in case.

“You apologizing for laughing? You got it bad. Who is she?”

“It’s a he and she,” he admitted.

Again she clucked her tongue. “Only a fool suffers another man’s pleasure.”

He considered this, nodded, and said, “And sometimes a fool has to hear things from a friend to get it right.”

She smacked her lips and picked at her teeth, and for a moment he feared she might take out her teeth. This monster of flesh trained her dark, beady eyes onto him and he withered beneath her gaze. He wasn’t sure how it had happened, but he had a relationship with this woman.

“People change, Mr. Both. Maybe laws don’t change, but people do. Not good confuse the two.”

He heard himself admit to her, “I love them both separately, it’s together I’m having a hard time.”

“There you go again, face like a dog,” she said, studying him from the far side of a loaded pair of chopsticks. She waited a long time before speaking. Not a grain of rice fell from her grip.

She said, “Hearts of gold never break. Bend, sure. Gold soft.

But never break.” She ate the rice and spoke through the food.

“You have good heart, Mr. Both. Heart of gold.”

When he left, a half hour later, Boldt kissed her hand. It was the first time he’d touched the woman, and she clearly appreciated the gesture.

Back in the Crown Vic, he put on a Chieftains tape and cranked the volume. A plaintive Irish ballad sung by Van Mor-rison. “Have I told you lately that I love you?” Van the Man crooned, and Boldt hummed along, swept up by his emotions.

He had memories of Liz in his head, not Daphne, and this felt absolutely right to him.

He burped and thought Mama Lu would have appreciated that more than a kiss on the hand.

He drove home, his thumb keeping the song’s slow rhythm on the steering wheel. The melody rose from his throat to his lips as he formed the lyrics and began singing loudly. He couldn’t wait to get home.