Best Friends (24 page)

There remained the matter of the moss-green blanket, still in a neat fold atop the filing cabinet. His assistant would never forgive him for not arranging for its disposition. With his cell phone he called the office answering machine, six feet away.

“Margaret, there's a Salvation Army drop box in the Grandway parking lot. On your way home tonight, would you mind putting the blanket in it? Thanks for everything.”

*  *  *

Roy was en route to Alcott's office but trapped in a lunchtime traffic that was bottlenecked at the edge of the business district by an emergency excavation in the middle of the street, barricaded in black-striped yellow. He had restrained himself from discarding the cell phone because of just some eventuality like this.

He dialed the lawyer's number, to make sure someone licensed as a notary would stay on hand and not go out to lunch before his arrival…. The call was not going through. He looked at the display and saw system busy—no surprise at this hour but infuriating to him in his urgent need. The big square end of the mover's truck just ahead of him blocked his view, but the traffic must be frozen for at least a solid block, judging by the distant sounds of the most insistent horns.

He was checking to see whether the redial system was programmed in when the phone rang.

“Roy?”

It was Kristin. He had not moved quickly enough to be spared one more meaningless exchange of all-passion-spent platitudes.

“I can barely hear you,” he said truthfully, and then lied about the reason therefor: “The signal's very weak here.” He did not of course ask,
Why are you bothering me at the eleventh hour?
“I'll have to get back to you.”

“No, no!” she cried, and now was as audible as if she were sitting beside him. “
Sam is dying.
If you want to see him, get to County General right away.”

He blurted something and dropped the telephone. He could move the Jeep in neither direction, but the far right lane was luckily between parking meters, so he used the vehicle's off-roading capacity to mount the curb. He drove along the sidewalk as fast as he could while giving pedestrians the opportunity to take evasive action. The outdoor tables of the coffee shop were in the next block, but he bumped down at the corner into the side street. He sped toward the hospital by whichever routes were least crowded. He felt best when he could keep rolling, even if temporarily obliged to travel in the wrong direction. To be locked in traffic again, with the company of only the devastating reflections evoked by fate's latest caprice, was unthinkable.

At the hospital Roy braked near the emergency entrance and left the Jeep in a forbidden zone, keys in the ignition and doors unlocked, so that it could be easily moved, impounded, or stolen. Inside the building, at a desperate speed and by a route he could not afterward have clearly traced, he eventually found, or happened upon, Kristin.

It was the first time he had ever seen her disheveled except in erotic passion. Though she was still seemingly impeccable in hair, eyes, attire, something basic had been as if subliminally altered. She was slightly out of focus; the change may well have been in him.

“Oh, my God, Roy.” She embraced him frantically, as a savior, not a lover. “Oh, Roy.”

He impatiently squeezed her for an instant, then broke away. “I better go to him. Where is he?”

Kristin seized him again and put her face against his chest. “He's dead, Roy. He died in the ambulance.”

He wanted to cry out but of course did not do so. “I came as fast as I could.”

They were in some bleak white-walled enclosure furnished with wooden benches. Roy sat down on one that was otherwise empty. Kristin joined him on its hard seat. People came and went; he saw only their shoes.

“We had that nasty fight last time. Well, it wasn't a fight on my part—”

“He never mentioned it, Roy.” She took his arm in a comforting way. “He got over it. Sam was like that.”

This was not what Roy wanted to hear. “How did it happen? Christ, he just got out of the hospital.”

“Maria says she found him on the floor. I was out shopping for food.”

“God damn it.”

“Nothing any of us could have done,” said Kristin, in her old cool style, but then began to sob.

Roy put his arms around her narrow trembling body, which felt so different when not in the act of love. “I really did love him,” he said, speaking aloud but mostly for his own benefit, or detriment. “I never could have squared myself with him, and he was right to feel that way. He was a man of principle.”

Though it had not been his conscious intention to do such—he had not been thinking of her—this statement distracted Kristin from her grief. She left his embrace to say, anxiously, “He was getting over it, Roy. Please believe me. I knew him in a way you did not,
could
not.”

“Maybe it's just me, then,” said Roy, as it was also he who had wanted to die and now been cheated out of the opportunity, one-upped by his best friend.

“I know I took a dim view of his way with money,” Kristin said. “But I guess you couldn't have had his generosity of heart without a certain foolishness in practical matters.”

For the first time he saw how naïve she was, if she believed that Sam was incapable of resentment; it had in fact been his ruling emotion. But had it not been she who had given Roy the information on which he based this judgment? He had loved Sam all the same. Until recently he had found it impossible even to disappoint his friend, let alone dishonor him.

Kristin continued. “He was the only person I could count on to take me as I am.”

“Yes.”

“He let me be the one with ambition,” said she. “He just cheered me on. That takes an unusual man.” She clutched Roy again. “I don't think I could get through this without you.”

“I'm not going anywhere.” He was at her disposal from now on, but there could be no more sex, ever—not that she would necessarily expect any, but he had to establish the rules for himself.

A pair of black trousers stopped near them and remained. Roy looked up to see a round white collar surmounted by a sorrowful pink face.

The priest asked, “Are you the young couple who lost your child?”

“No, Father.”

“I'm sorry to have disturbed you. But you've had a loss?”

“A close friend,” said Roy. “Thank you for asking.”

“God bless you both.”

When the clergyman had gone, Kristin said in wonder, “You're always so nice to everybody. Sam wasn't, you know. He wouldn't put up with people he felt were wasting his time.”

“Maybe he had some kind of premonition he wouldn't live long.”

She thought about that for a moment and then began to weep again.

“Let's go,” Roy said. “There's nothing we can do here.”

He took her out to the parking lot. Unexpectedly, the Jeep was where he had left it, unlocked door, keys in the ignition. He had half-hoped it would be irretrievably gone. Now that he had been denied the grand gesture, he would have endured inconveniences and discomforts as forms of atonement. He could never have envisioned that his penance would be paid as counselor to Kristin.

She repeated her earlier sentiment. “I couldn't handle this without you.” He was driving now and could not look at her. “I mean it,” she said. “I've never been through anything like this before. I can't ask my parents for help. It would be a confession of failure. They've never seen me except as winning.”

“Count on me,” Roy said. “I'll take care of everything.”

“Wouldn't you know,” she asked rhetorically, “it would be when Maria was there again that he had the fatal attack?”

“They usually happen in the morning, don't they?” Roy braked for a red light. Now, when there was no need for hurry, the traffic of course was thin.

“What I wonder is if they were in bed at the time.” She hastily threw up her hands. “Not that I'm being critical of the poor guy. If so, he was in good hands. She did better than I could have. Her mother died that way; so did her older brother…. I've got to do something about Maria now. For all I know, she might hold me responsible.”

“I'll talk with her, but I'm sure she knows you loved him. I'll take care of it,” said Roy. “I'll take care of everything.”

“Dear Roy, you're a treasure.” She touched his hand. The light turned green and he had to drive. “Sam adored you,” Kristin said, “and so do I.”

So while escaping Roy's revenge, Sam had gotten his own at last. But in so doing, he had also given Roy a use. That's what best friends are for.