“I just want to give you some flowers.”
I stood for a moment. Then I tossed them down the steep hill and the wind caught them and they landed just where his car had. I’d seen it there, with yellow police tape and spotlights, and the trucks pulling it up the embankment.
“He’s gone, Jason,” she said. “It might really be different now.”
2
Fred was stacked behind a desk as big as he was in his thirtieth-floor corner office. I didn’t know if he had any other clients. I avoided the big armchair in front of the desk and settled with Katie into a sofa at the side.
“Good morning,” he said as he took out a pile of thick folders, a formal greeting for the official occasion. “These are copies for you and Eric to take. We will not be reading the whole thing today.”
“I guess I just want to get it over with,” I said. “Is there anything we don’t already know? Tell me the bottom line.”
Pause. “We will just wait for Eric.” It was making me uncomfortable, the way he was staring at me. The whole office made me uncomfortable, the way it was a little dim, a little worn, just a little disorganized. But it was still just Uncle Fred.
And then Eric blew in, his helmet under his arm. He dropped it and his leather jacket on the floor next to the armchair. “Sorry. Construction.” He was dressed like a peasant, in khakis and a lime polo.
“My suit better still be in three pieces,” I said.
“Yeah, it’s okay.”
He wasn’t looking good. His eyes were red and his face was pale, and the green shirt made it look worse.
“Are you okay?”
He blinked. “I guess so. I was out late.” He had no extra fat on his body, but now he even seemed gaunt. The shirt was loose.
“It shows.”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Come over this afternoon,” I said. “We’ll feed you.”