“About what?”

  “You.”

  “I think I better go and get ready for dinner,” he said.

  “Sure,” she replied. “We can talk while we eat.”

  “Hmm …”

  He turned to leave the kitchen and she said, ”Could you get Jakey to wash his hands?”

  “Sure.” Passing through the living-room he said, “Come on, bud. Time to wash up for dinner.”

  Jakey bounced up to his feet and ran after McKenna.

  “You wash your hands for dinner?” the boy asked.

  “Of course,” he said. “I’ve been outside all day. I don’t want to bring all that dirt to the table.”

  “I been inside all day,” Jakey said. “I got no outside dirt on my hands. See?” He showed McKenna his palms.

  “Yeah, but I can see inside dirt on there,” McKenna said as they reached the sink in the hall bathroom. “Come on, we’ll do it together.”

  He turned on the water as Jakey climbed up onto the toilet seat so he could reach. McKenna flashed back to his childhood, when he had done exactly the same thing to wash his hands.

  “Here, use the soap,” he said, handing the bar of Ivory soap to the boy.

  They both lathered their hands and washed them thoroughly. McKenna turned off the water as Jakey dropped down from the toilet. They used different ends of the same towel to dry and then Jakey showed McKenna his hands again.

  “Any inside dirt now?”

  “Nope, none.” McKenna said. “Good job.”

  Jakey ran ahead of McKenna to the kitchen. As he passed the door to his office McKenna stopped short and went inside.

  “What the—” he said, looking around. His desk was clean, as were most of the surrounding surfaces. He walked to the file cabinet and opened it, saw that all his files had been inserted in alphabetical order. He frowned as he noticed something was off, then realized the cabinet had been moved.

  The files took up the top drawer. The second drawer held some paraphernalia—an extra staple gun, an electric pencil sharpener that didn’t work, some other things that he had never thrown away. She had probably thought it safe just to tuck them in there. The third drawer was empty.

  He left the office and walked to the kitchen, shaking his head.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Tuna casserole,” McKenna said, as Prudence spooned it out onto three plates.

  “Yuck!” Jakey said.

  “You don’t want to try some?” she asked him.

  “Don’t we have any fish sticks?” Jakey asked, hopefully.

  “I think we bought some,” McKenna said, looking at Prudence.

  “All right.” She took the plate from in front of Jakey. “I’ll microwave some fish sticks.”

  “Yay!” Jakey said.

  “Go and watch television,” she said. “I’ll call you when they’re ready.”

  “An’ I want ketchup,” he yelled as he ran from the room.

  She brought two bowls of salad to the table, then got the box of fish sticks from the freezer, put five on a flat plate and pushed them in the microwave. She sat across from McKenna while they thawed.

  “Have you ever had tuna casserole before?” he asked her.

  “No,” she said. “That’s why I didn’t know what it was.”

  “Taste it,” he said.

  She did.

  “It’s pretty good,” she said. “What else is in here?”

  “I think those are potato chips on top,” he said. “Didn’t you ask Isobel what it was when she brought it over?”

  “No,” Prudence said, “we didn’t talk about food.”

  “Oh?” He put a large forkful in his mouth.

  “Don’t you want to know what we talked about?” she asked.

  “Um, not really.”

  “She’s a very nice lady,” Prudence said, “and she totally likes you a lot.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “When I told her what you did for me and Jakey do you know what she said? She said ‘Well, that’s Mac for you.’ It didn’t surprise her that you’d help us this way.”

  “Isobel is a nice lady,” he said. “She sees the nice in people.”

  “She totally sees it in you.”

  “What did you do to my office?”

  “You’re, like, changin’ the subject,” she said.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Okay,” she said. “I was just lookin’ for something to do today, and I saw the mess in there. I didn’t throw anything out. It’s just all put away.”

  “I know. I looked in the file cabinet. By the way, how did you move that thing? It’s metal.”

  “I’m small, but I’m strong,” she said. “And determined. I just sort of walked it.”

  “Well,” he said, “it looks like you did a great job, but I won’t know until I sit down and try to work.”

  “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble,” she told him. “Mac, I just wanted to do something to repay you for what you done for me and Jakey.”

  “You don’t need to repay me, Prudence,” McKenna said, “but I appreciate what you did. And I mean cleaning the house, not only the office.”

  “Well,” she said, “after I finished with the office I just sorta kept goin’.”

  “This house has never smelled this clean,” he said.

  The microwave went “Ding.”

  “Well,” McKenna said, “right now the house smells like fish sticks.”

  “Jakey!” Prudence called. “Fish Sticks!”

  She had them on a plate with ketchup when he ran in and joined them at the table.

  The conversation changed while the three of them ate together. McKenna and Prudence severely damaged the casserole and finished their salads, while Jakey polished off his fish sticks.

  “Can I go back to the TV now?” Jakey asked, when he’d finished.

  “Sure,” Prudence said. “Go ahead.”

  “Hey, bud,” McKenna called.

  The little man stopped short at the door and turned to look at him.

  “How about tomorrow you and me go out and do something?”

  “Really, Wazy?”

  McKenna looked at Prudence.

  “If it’s okay with you?”

  “It’s fine with me,” she said. “He’s been wanting to go out, and it’ll do him some good to get away from the TV”

  “Okay then,” he said, looking back at Jakey, “we’ll go have lunch and do some fun stuff. How’s that sound?”

  “Yaaay!” He turned and ran back to the living room, and the television.

  Chapter Fifteen

  During the months he kept vigil at his ailing father’s side McKenna often wondered, why?

  Dying had not mellowed the old man out, at all. He was still the same irascible, mean and—now with age—cantankerous cuss he’d ever been.

  McKenna had taken to sitting at the old man’s bedside reading a book during the day, to give the nurse, Isobel, a break. Oddly, the sound of the life-giving machines was rather soothing, having nothing to do with their function. It was simply the hum they made in concert with each other.

  One day his father opened his eyes, turned his head and looked at McKenna. For days Louis McKenna had been in and out of consciousness, and when he was out he was groggy—still mean, but groggy. Suddenly, as he stared at his son, his eyes were crystal clear.

  “Still waitin’ for me to die, huh?”

  “Pop,” McKenna said, “that’s not—”

  “Don’t try to deny it,” his father said. “Why else would you be here. Well, you know what? You don’t get a thing in my will, so you might as well go back to Chicago. Go home. I don’t need you here.”

  “I am home, Pop,” McKenna said. “I gave up my job, and my apartment, to come back here and take care of you.”

  “Well then you’re a damned fool!” Louis McKenna said with a harsh laugh.

  “You’re probably right.”

  “I know I’m right,” Louis said. “I’m always right, boy. You ain’t learned that, yet?”

  “Obviously, I’m a slow learner, Pop.”

  “Slow? You’re worse than slow, boy. Jesus, if you’d just fight back once, show some gumption, maybe I’d have some respect for you. Then again, probably not. Ain’t much there to respect. Why don’t you get the fuck out of here and send in that bitch? Maybe I can get ‘er to take off her top and show me her tits before I die.”

  McKenna stood up, blood rushing to his face.

  “Why don’t you do us all a favor, old man,” he snapped tightly, “and die tonight!”

  He turned and stormed out of the room, his father’s laughter echoing in his ears.

  That night, the old man died …

  It was an unreasonable guilt that crept up on him some nights. Like tonight. Of course, his father would have died that night even if he hadn’t snapped at him to go ahead and die and do everyone a favor. But still …

  … but it didn’t last long—not as long as it used to. When it crept up on him now he replayed some of their worst moments together and shook it off.

  “Mac?”

  He turned his head, saw Prudence and Jakey standing in the doorway, Jakey in his Spiderman p.j.’s again. He swiveled his office chair around to face them.

  “Jakey wanted to say goodnight.”

  “’night, buddy,” McKenna said.

  “Good-night, Wazy,” Jakey said. “We still goin’ out tomorrow?”

  “You bet. Jakey and Lazy’s day of fun!”

  “Yaaay!” Jakey cried out. He ran forward, threw himself into McKenna’s awkward embrace, then turned and raced from the room.

  From the door Prudence smiled at him.

  “I was gonna have some tea in a little while. Do you want a cup?”

  “Sure,” he said. “I’m just going to do a little work.”

  “I’ll bring it to you here.”

  “Thank you, Prudence.”

  “Call me Pru, Mac.”

  “Okay, Pru.”

  She smiled again, then went to read to Jakey and tuck him in.

  McKenna swiveled back to his desk. He’d been studying his Clausson file when the memory of his father’s death crept up on him. He decided he’d much rather think about how Jakey’s little arms had felt around his neck. The times in his life that McKenna had lamented about not having children of his own were few and far between. However, having Prudence and Jakey around was showing him what it might have been like.

  He pushed both thoughts from his mind, and went back to work.

  What had Claussons’ sister, Helen Simmons, been so antsy about? First she follows him from her brother’s house, questions him about what he was doing, then comes down hard on him later in the day at her place of business. Granted, he really had no clearance to be there asking questions, but that didn’t stop people from talking to him. He hadn’t learned much from anyone, except that Daniel Clausson was pretty well liked by his employees. He still had no idea who Clausson might have been having it off with, if anyone.

  He had nothing.

  Prudence came to the door a bit later with a tray. On it were a cup of tea, a small plate with a cookie, and a glass of water. When she sent the tray down on his desk, he saw his pills there, also.

  “Tea,” she said, holding the cup up. “Cinnamon and orange pekoe … and a Milano cookie. And you forgot to take your pills earlier.”

  “So I did. Thank you. Mmm, smells great.” He normally didn’t put drinks on his desk, but his keyboard and monitor were pretty safe if the cup spilled, and his computer tower was on the floor to his right, where nothing could spill on it.

  “What were you thinking about when I came to the door with Jakey?” she asked. “You looked pretty lost.”

  “Hmm?” He sipped his tea to give himself a moment. “Oh, nothing. Just some people I spoke to today.”

  “You know,” she said, “if your phone rings while you’re out I can answer it for you. I mean, in a totally business way.”

  He had a hard line into the office, while all of his personal calls came in to his cell.

  “I could be, like, your secretary,” she said. “I mean, just while we’re here … like, to help?”

  “Sure,” he said, figuring his business phone would ring very little, anyway. “Go ahead.”

  “Cool,” she said. “I could say … McKenna’s, or …”

  “‘McKenna’s’ sounds like an Irish bar,” he said. “Why don’t you just say ‘hello’? And go from there.”

  She smiled. “Okay. I’m gonna go and have my tea in the kitchen.”

  “Thanks for everything.”

  She turned back and said, “What are you gonna do with Jakey tomorrow.”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “McDonald’s or Wendy’s for lunch, I guess … or anything else he likes. There’s a great hot dog place we could go to. After that … too cold for the zoo. How about a video arcade?”

  “He’ll love that.”

  “Okay, then,” he said. “I’ll give him his choice for lunch, and then we’ll go to the Arcade.”

  “Don’t let him eat too much junk,” she said, “or he’ll end up with a stomach ache that I’ll have to deal with.”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” he said. “No junk, no tummy ache.”

  She grinned and went back to the kitchen with a spring in her step. Maybe, he thought, she was looking forward to having some time alone the next day.

  Chapter Sixteen

  McKenna’s neuropathy woke him the next morning early. He sat up and rubbed his left foot as a sharp pain shot through his big toe. Rubbing didn’t actually help, but sometimes it distracted him.

  It took about ten minutes of the pain surging and ebbing before it finally stopped. He thought about lying down and going back to sleep, but decided against it. His legs and arms felt weak and there was a slight flash in his eyes, this time green. His sugar was low, so he put on his robe and went into the kitchen. Usually a half a glass—about four ounces—of orange juice leveled him off. He tossed that back, and then switched the coffee pot on. He didn’t want to make a large breakfast because he’d be taking Jakey out for lunch. As for Prudence, she could stay in and fend for herself. There was nothing within walking distance of the house except acres of farmland. He just hoped she’d appreciate the time alone. Maybe it would enable her to decide what to do with her life.

  He had only spent three days with Prudence and Jakey, but they moved around the kitchen like they had been doing it for years. Neither of them mentioned how long they had already stayed, or how much longer they would. That was okay with him. Having them around made him realize how empty the house had felt. Prudence and Jakey were making him deal with new feelings, new emotions he hadn’t known he had.

  McKenna made English muffins while Prudence put butter and jelly out on the table, poured out the coffee for herself and McKenna, and orange juice for Jakey.

  McKenna knew he was comfortable with the two when he took his pills right at the table, rather than at the counter with his back turned.

  “Where we goin’ today, Wazy?”

  “Well, there’s a big Arcade in town. Would you like to go and play some games?”

  “Yeahhh!”

  “And then lunch wherever you want to go.”

  “Chucky Fried Chicken!” he yelled.

  “Chucky—” McKenna said, frowning.

  Prudence laughed.

  “That’s how he says Kentucky Fried Chicken. Do you have them in Omaha?”

  “Oh yeah,” McKenna said, “we definitely have Chucky Fried Chicken. Should we bring some home for you?”

  “Maybe a wing … or two,” she said.

  McKenna had ridden past the Arcade on Dodge and 72nd many times in the past months, never had any reason to go in. He was sort of surprised it was so busy, given how many games were in the home, now. Maybe kids just needed a place to get away, like most adults did. Only with adults it was a bar.

  They spent two hours at the Arcade pretty much running McKenna ragged. When they got to a Kentucky Fried Chicken on 60th and realized it was a location that had a buffet they were both happy about it, because they were starving.

  “Don’t tell your Mom I let you go back for more,” he said to Jakey.

  “Huh,” Jakey said.

  “What do you mean, huh?’” McKenna asked.

  “Oh, nothin’,” Jakey said, looking guilty, for some reason.

  McKenna reached out and touched the boy’s arm.

  “I’m not telling you to lie to her, Jakey,” he said. “I was just kidding. It’s okay. Really.”

  Jakey just shrugged and said, “Whatever.”

  McKenna wondered what was behind the boy’s attitude, but he decided to let it go. They were having a good time and he didn’t want to ruin it.

  There was still a lot he didn’t know about Prudence and Jakey’s situation, and didn’t want to pressure the girl. He figured once she trusted him maybe she’d open up to him. He didn’t want to ruin that plan by pressuring Jakey, and then having the boy tell Prudence.

  “You want the cherry cobbler for dessert,” he asked Jakey, “or should we get something else?”

  “Ice cream!”

  McKenna looked out the window at the snow on the ground, and shivered.

  “Well, I was thinking about pie, or cake,” he said, “but okay, ice cream.”

  Prudence sat at McKenna’s computer, surfing the Web. She checked newspaper stories from where she and Jakey had run from, across the country to Omaha. There were no stories about their disappearance. Nothing about them missing, or being kidnapped.

  This should have been a good thing, but she wasn’t sure. Something could have been going on that she didn’t know about. She looked at her phone, which she had set down alongside the keyboard. It was off. She didn’t want to check it again for signs.

  She decided to do some work on the computer that would help McKenna with his job, and then check the kitchen to see what she could prepare for dinner that night. She tucked her cell phone away in her jean pocket. Out of sight, out of mind.

  She hoped that would be the sentiment in more than just this instance.

  McKenna remembered passing a TCBY on Dodge and 76th on the way to the arcade. It was frozen yogurt, not ice cream, but Jakey didn’t complain. He settled for a cup of chocolate and vanilla swirl, so McKenna had the same thing, but on a wafer cone, only his was a no sugar added. It had been a long time since he’d had real ice cream or yogurt. When he cheated on his diabetes it was usually with too much starch—rice, potatoes or pasta—or to have a beer. He’d succeeded in cutting sweets—ice cream, donuts and candy—from his diet, but with real food he tried to eat in moderation, rather than cutting it out completely.

 

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