Fatherhood (20 page)
“Will you stay?” she asked quietly.
I knew that any argument would strike her as just more noise she could not bear. It would clang like cymbals, only add to the mindless cacophony she was so desperate to escape.
And so I said, “All right.”
With no further word, she swallowed the pills two at a time, washing them down with quick sips of vodka.
“I don't know what to say to you, Veronica,” I told her when she took the last of them and put down the glass.
She curled under my arm. “Say what I said to Douglas,” she told me. “In the end it's all anyone can offer.”
“What did you say to him?” I asked softly.
“I'm here.”
I drew my arm tightly around her. “I'm here,” I said.
She snuggled in more closely. “Yes.”
“And so you stayed?” my friend asked.
I nodded.
“And she ⦔
“In about an hour,” I told him. “Then I dressed and walked the streets until I finally came here.”
“So right now she's ⦔
“Gone,” I said quickly, and suddenly imagined her sitting in the park across from the bar, still and silent.
“You couldn't stop her?”
“With what?” I asked. “I had nothing to offer.” I glanced out the front window of the bar. “And besides,” I added, “for a truly dangerous woman, a man is never the answer. That's what makes her dangerous. At least, to us.”
My friend looked at me oddly. “So what are you going to do now?” he asked.
At the far end of the park a young couple was screaming at each other, the woman's fist in the air, the man shaking his head in violent confusion. I could imagine Veronica turning from them, walking silently away.
“I'm going to keep quiet,” I answered. “For a very long time.”
Then I got to my feet and walked out into the whirling city. The usual dissonance engulfed me, all the chaos and disarray, but I felt no need to add my own inchoate discord to the rest.
It was a strangely sweet feeling, I realized as I turned and headed home, embracing silence.
From deep within her enveloping calm, Veronica offered me her final words.
I know
.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2013 by Thomas H. Cook
Interior design by Maria Fernandez
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