'Seasoned To Kill' by G.J. Prager - HTML preview

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Chapter 2

 

“He’s cute...very cute,” I gushed, peering over the crib at the little tot.

I was laying up at my cousin’s for the week in his small two- bedroom condo on the westside of Manhattan. He and the wife bought it years before real estate prices went through the roof around here. You could fit the whole place in a garage, yet it was worth two million on the market and they were going like hotcakes. Those high-priced Manhattan shrinks sure knew how to earn their keep.

“I’m a grandfather,” Harry piped up. “Can you believe it?”

That’s quite an accomplishment,” I said. “You should be brimming with pride, pushing sixty with a brood to pass along. Look at me, empty nest and all.”

“I have to say you pretty much missed the boat.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

“You should have married and settled down years ago like most people.”

“No law that says you should. I just didn’t plan it that way.”

“No one does,” Harry proclaimed. “We fall into it.” I detected a whiff of regret in his tone.

I suppose he needed a reason to have invested his whole life in one partner. I just thought it smart to hedge my bets. But it takes a certain amount of fortitude to stick to bachelorhood as long as I had. Most people don’t like the sound of being alone.

“My only hope is to snatch up a foreign lady.” I was dead serious. “They’re more forgiving of a man’s bank account.”

He chuckled, and I sensed he sympathized. It must have brought to mind his wife, Barbara, who just then stepped into the room. I put a lid on my musings for a while.

“How are you two today?” she inquired.

“We’re admiring Reid,” Harry said, bursting with pride.

“The kids will be here for dinner,” she began. “They’ll pick the baby up then.” Babs looked me over curiously. “Whatever happened to your roommate, Bob? The cute Shepherd mix you showed us a picture of last time you were here?”

She tried being playful but her tone was downright smarmy. The wrinkles on her face and a sagging throat made her look older than her years, and her once appealing figure had filled out quite unattractively. Perhaps it was watching herself fall apart that made her so resentful.

“Homer’s doing fine,” I said, putting a smile on for her. “The guy who lived next door at my old place is watching him while I’m gone. He took care of Homer while I was in prison, too.”

She threw a dirty look my way. The gal never could get used to having an ex-con in the family.

I continued. “We never got along when I lived next door to him. It’s funny how people change over time.”

“You can never tell who your neighbors are,” Harry offered cautiously. “One day they’re out to get you, the next day they’re your best friends. Remember the Kreugers, Barbara?”

“The couple who lived next door?”

“A perfect example,” Harry declared.

“Very schizo,” Babs whispered back, as if the Kreugers were listening in. “I never knew if they were going to greet us one day and kill us the next.”

“That’s scary,” I said, before turning the conversation back on myself. “When I got out of prison, Homer seemed happy in his new digs. Eric volunteered to take care of him till I got my life back together. Now I just have visiting rights.” Harry smiled. “I don’t live too far away, though,” I continued, “so I’m not...”

I was choking up. It was something I’d been doing when talking about Homer of late, but I pressed on. “I get to share him often enough. In fact, he was staying with me before I flew out here…”

“I’m glad it worked out for you,” Babs cut in, turning her attention to the little tot. “Look at him, Harry. Isn’t he adorable?”

“Yeah, cute little Reid,” he gushed. “What a gift.” Harry looked at me suddenly. “Don’t you want a family?”

“Sure I do,” I replied. I didn’t know what else to say.

“How long do you plan on staying, Bob?” his wife inquired. But I’d already told Harry. I guess he didn’t want her to know.

“My plans have changed. I have to cut my stay short.” I felt a collective sigh in the room. “I just got a call about a new job and it starts right away.”

“What sort of job?” Harry looked excited. “Uh...sales...telemarketing.”

“Harry’s going out to the west coast in March. One of his Asian suppliers is located in Costa Mesa. Isn’t that right, Harry?”

“I’ll be going in February, dear.”

“We’ll start the new year off with a bang,” I rang out. “Here’s to ’07.” I raised my hand in a mock toast.

“I don’t know if I’ll get a chance to visit, Bob. Barbara thinks I take too much time when I go on these business trips.” Babs was glaring at him. It looked like he’d just stepped on a land mine. “Don’t start in again, dear.”

“I’m not saying anything.”

There was a strange silence in the room.

“You won’t take it personally if I can’t find time to visit?” Harry pleaded.

“No, of course not.” I put him at ease. “Just knock on my door if you do.”

“I just remembered,” Babs blurted out. “Susan Epstein’s sister is back in town. She’s in her forties and single, too.”

“What about it, Bob?” Harry threw in.

“Sure, I’d love to meet her.” I didn’t have a choice, it seems.

“I’ll call Susan and see if I could set it up for tonight, after we have dinner with the kids.” She hurriedly set off.

“It’s too bad you can’t stay longer,” Harry offered. I didn’t believe him, but it was nice enough to say.

“I’m on a short leash. I’d better call the airline and see about changing my flight…”

“Not now, Bob. Let’s go for lunch. How about a big fat juicy corn beef sandwich, kosher style?”

“I haven’t had one in years. They don’t serve deli in the pen,” I said darkly.

“I didn’t think they did,” he laughed. “I’ll buy you the juiciest, most delicious sandwich in New York.” He went for his coat that was hanging on a rack near the door. “I swear this place packs in club sandwiches like you’ve never seen. And their fries are this thick” – he spread his fingers out to illustrate – “and cut individually, second to none. They’ve got the best pickles in the city, hands down.”

I put on my jacket and followed him out. He was on a roll and feeling very sure of himself. I hoped some of it would rub off on me.