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  Jess perched on the edge of the couch. Her lips still had a bluish cast. “All right. But I really think I can deal better with this on my own, so I can’t stay long.” She scratched her head. “Maybe just until it gets light.”

  “There you go. Now you stay right there, and I’ll bring Ethan in and we can all get a little better acquainted, and we can see about getting you warmed up. Can I get you a blanket?”

  Robert pulled a chenille throw off the back of one of the chairs and handed it to her.

  Jess sighed and rolled her eyes but wrapped the throw around her shoulders. “I’m okay. Just go.”

  Robert shook his head and started off toward the den. As he neared the room, he realized what he had thought was electronica dance music was in fact the score to a pornographic movie. He closed his eyes, beginning to feel the start of a throbbing headache behind his left eye. The smell of smoke was stronger, and Robert wondered what he would find.

  Robert went into the den and was glad he hadn’t brought Jessica in with him. Ethan sprawled across the couch, completely naked, a cigarette in one hand, the remote in the other. Robert hadn’t seen Ethan naked like this for a long time and was surprised the younger man had lost so much weight. His ribs showed and a lot of the natural muscle he had once so admired had withered. He was hard; there was a bottle of lube on the ash-littered coffee table.

  The screen showed a group sex scene: quick cuts to various twosomes, threesomes, and moresomes in some sort of dungeon setup that included slings, chain link, rough brick walls. The dialogue, under the pulsating, heavy bass track, consisted of nothing more than grunts, groans, and muttered “fucks” and “oh yeahs.” Ethan’s gaze was so intent on the screen, he didn’t even notice Robert standing in the doorway. He let the remote slip from his fingers and began stroking himself. He seemed transfixed, beyond what Robert would even consider normal for someone beating off to porn. Heat rose to Robert’s cheeks, and he quietly backed out of the room. He stood just outside, shaking his head. He felt like crying and wasn’t sure why.

  Maybe it has something to do with that man in there being someone you really don’t even know.

  When had they last watched a porno together? For that matter, when was the last time they’d even had sex?

  Robert cleared his throat and took a couple of hard steps, making sure his footfalls sounded, and tried entering the room again. This time, he heard the DVD and TV go off and heard Ethan begin to scramble.

  When Robert came into the room, Ethan was pulling on his jeans and giving his most sheepish grin. “Caught me with my pants down, didn’t you, Daddy?”

  Robert rolled his eyes. “Yes, I guess. In the most literal sense. Christmas film? O Come, All Ye Faithful?”

  Ethan smirked and didn’t answer. He took a drag off his cigarette and put it out in the close-to-overflowing Limoges bowl he used as an ashtray. It was from their dinnerware.

  He finished buttoning his jeans. “Sorry about that.”

  Robert suddenly felt like just plopping down on the couch and closing his eyes. Where to begin? The girl? Ethan’s absence? His smoking? The porn?

  He took another step into the room and realized he was trembling. What was the matter with him? Ethan pulled on a black T-shirt and rubbed a hand through his thick hair. “Sorry about last night. You know, about missing dinner and all.”

  “What happened?” Robert wanted the lie to be convincing, so he could make himself believe. He hated himself for having this desire, for not having the strength to just hold up his hand to halt any further words out of Ethan’s mouth. He should have been man enough to simply say, “Don’t bother.” Instead, he stood, eyeing the young man expectantly.

  Ethan looked out the window as he spoke. The sky was already beginning to turn a very pale shade of gray. Why don’t you look me in the eye when you speak? Even Robert knew a classic sign of deceit was being unable to look the person to whom you were lying in the eye.

  “Things just got out of hand at Aunt Janine’s. My dad was there, from California, and we ended up drinking too much eggnog spiked with too much bourbon. There were presents and a big turkey dinner, and before I knew it, I was smashed and it was getting on toward midnight.” He turned back to Robert and smiled. Even though his eyes looked red and his face haggard, that smile could still light up the room and Ethan knew it.

  Someday, that smile will no longer be yours to use. And then what will you do to deceive, cajole, convince? What wiles will you use?

  “I just decided to crash in Aunt Janine’s guest room.” Ethan took a few steps toward Robert. He smelled sweaty and sour. Robert tried not to wrinkle his nose at the stench. “I’m sorry. I know I should have called.” He started to reach out to put his arms around Robert. Robert jumped back.

  “What can I do to make it up to you?”

  Robert thought he should have said, “What you can do is pack your bags. What you can do is find a job and see what it’s like out there supporting yourself and not living off a generous older man who is, himself, living off the literary estate of a dead man.” The difference between him and Ethan, though, was that Robert had loved Keith with all his heart. Ethan loved only Robert’s money and the comfort and freedom it provided. He should have told this boy/man to get the hell out; the gravy train had come to the end of the line. All passengers must disembark. Find their own ways. What he should have said was, “I’m tired of being played for a fool and taken advantage of. I’m sick of holding my heart out and getting nothing in return. It’s over.” What he said, though, was, “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

  Nothing was what Ethan did best.

  “I’m glad you’re not mad. Hug?” Ethan stepped close, and the smell was almost overpowering. Robert noticed an acrid chemical smell seeping from Ethan’s pores and wondered what it was. He also wondered why Ethan was swaying back and forth, as if he were unable to stay still.

  “Daddy, I’m going to go out into that kitchen and make you the best Christmas dinner you ever had.”

  Robert shook his head. “It’s almost dawn, Ethan. Maybe you should just take a shower and get yourself to bed.”

  “But I’m not tired at all. Not a bit.” He smiled. Too big and too bright.

  “Why didn’t you stay at your aunt’s?”

  “Huh?”

  Robert felt he could at least make him squirm a little. The situation was so absurd, and the fact that he expected Robert to swallow it whole showed a distinct lack of respect. Robert realized suddenly that Ethan was high. And he felt like tormenting, punishing a bit. Even if he knew he was being passive-aggressive and not respecting himself for it.

  “Why are you home now?”

  Ethan stared at him.

  “I mean, if you wanted to crash—drunk—at Auntie Janine’s, that’s one thing. But why wouldn’t you just stay there until morning? I know when I’ve tied one on, I usually sleep well into the next morning.” Robert gave a mean smile. “At least until it’s light. And yet you came home at what? Four? And felt perky enough to fire up some smokes and watch some hardcore porn. It doesn’t make sense.”

  Ethan frowned, casting his big dark brown eyes at Robert. His new face—affronted and hurt—would have been very convincing had it not been for the sweat popping out on his forehead.

  “What are you saying, Daddy? Don’t you trust me? I woke up at about two or so and realized I needed to be home with you. When I got here and saw you were gone, I felt bad. I wanted to try and make things up to you, so even though I was tired, I wanted to wait until you got home.” Ethan’s face clearly registered an idea popping into his fevered brain. “I was worried about you.” He gestured toward the TV. “I put the movie on because I knew it would help me stay awake.” He grinned sheepishly. “I know I got a little carried away.”

  He stepped even closer, so close Robert could smell his foul breath mixed with the stench his pores were exuding. Robert didn’t have the courage to confront Ethan about his suspicions (or were they certainties?), but he
did have enough inner strength to put his hand on Ethan’s chest.

  “You’re a little ripe. Why don’t you go have a nice hot shower? And then we’ll talk.”

  “But Daddy,” Ethan whined. “I was hoping you’d fuck me.”

  Robert was stunned. He shook his head. He had often wished, over the past several months, Ethan would say such a thing to him. But now, it just seemed desperate, and Robert had the impression that the kid would have said the same words to any handy male who happened to be in the vicinity. Probably already had said it several times this Christmas night…

  “Ethan. I hate to be the one to break the news, but you don’t smell good and I’ve had too much to drink. Either one of those factors would be enough to make me decline. Take them together, and I’m afraid granting that request is quite impossible.”

  “Fine.” If seduction wouldn’t work, Ethan could pout. Robert wasn’t going to give the extended lower lip and the air of indignation Ethan was trying to project the dignity of his attention.

  “Go take a shower,” Robert whispered.

  “Right. Whatever you say. You’re the boss,” Ethan sneered. He started from the room.

  Robert said, “While you were off at Aunt Janine’s…” (Robert put mocking emphasis on his last words), “I was out playing Good Samaritan. You’ll see a young lady on the living room couch. You need not introduce yourself to her. I just don’t want you to be surprised.”

  Ethan turned and cocked his head. “What are you talking about?”

  “Her name is Jess. I found her down by the lakefront. She was inadequately dressed and was freezing. I thought we could help her out with some warmth and clothing.”

  “Are you nuts?” Ethan exited the room. In a few seconds, he came back. He was smiling. “You really are losing it, old man.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “There’s no one out there.”

  Robert didn’t respond, just hurried from the den. The living room was, indeed, empty. Even the throw he had given Jess to warm her was now back on the chair, neatly positioned.

  Maybe she’s just in the bathroom. He started toward the half bath off the kitchen. The door yawned open.

  The dining room and the other bedroom on that floor were also unoccupied. Robert rushed up the spiral staircase. “Jess?” he called. There was no one on either upstairs or downstairs balconies.

  He hung his head, wondering if he could do anything right. Where had she gone? And worse, what would she do once back out there on her own? Would she complete the mission she had set out to do before he interceded?

  Robert felt a wave of panic. Hot tears sprang to his eyes. Where is this coming from? I hardly know this person. And yet, Robert felt an inexplicable longing tug at him, felt as though he had failed not just a person in need, but someone very, very dear to him. Maybe Ethan was right. Maybe he was nuts.

  He struggled back into his coat, trying to keep himself from sobbing. He didn’t know what he would do if he couldn’t find her. And what are the odds of that? In a city the size of Chicago, it would take her only a few minutes to disappear. He stopped buttoning his coat and let out a soft moan.

  “I failed her,” he whispered.

  Still he had to try. As he was opening the door, Ethan called from behind him, “Where are you going?”

  “To try and find someone…To try and find someone I care about.”

  He closed the door behind him with a slam.

  Chapter 4

  Jess stared out the window of the cab. They traveled north. On one side of her Lake Michigan, whose churning waters she had expected to fling herself into, made a dramatic statement about the futility of life and love. On the other side, high-rises rose up, warm yellow lights glowing in some of the windows. Jess wondered about the people inside, if they were happy, if they had shared a wonderful holiday with loved family and friends. Or were some of them like her…and this Robert she had met? Lonely people whose lights were on for company as they stared out the window, wondering when and where it had all gone wrong, wondering why they were alone on this stupid holiday that signaled togetherness and joy.

  She wondered about Robert, too, what had driven him out into the cold on Christmas night. She felt bad about ducking out on him as she had, but she had heard arguing in the den and she just couldn’t bear the thought of getting caught up in any more conflict. There was enough in her own life, thank you very much. And besides, it didn’t sound like this nice man needed any more trouble than he already had. So she had simply crept quietly to the door and left.

  She felt guilty about leaving him without a word of thanks, and shame for not spending even one minute asking him about his problems. People didn’t just venture out in the middle of the night on Christmas if their lives were happy. She tried to rationalize her behavior by telling herself that Robert was better off without her and she was actually doing him a favor by sneaking away.

  Jess rubbed a hand through her hair and sighed. Why was she thinking so much about this man, anyway? Sure, he had helped her, but there seemed to be a whole other level of feeling for him that their short experience together did not account for.

  She tried to stop looking out the window, attempted to stop thinking, trying instead to examine the black hair growing in thick curls out of the back of her driver’s head, his license, the upholstery of the vehicle. But her gaze wandered out once more as the view changed from water to lakefront park and finally, at Hollywood, to more high-rises as the buildings on Sheridan Road obscured her view of the lake. Jess tried not to think as they continued north, rounding the curve at Loyola University and onward up until they made a left at her street, Fargo. Jess concentrated on the red digital readout of the fare meter as it went up to thirty dollars. She had about twenty-five cents in her pocket. More stress. Another problem to deal with.

  They passed under the El tracks, and the cab stopped in front of her building—a brick six-flat, built in the 1920s. She looked at the wood-framed glass door of the vestibule and thought for just a moment how up until recently, she had been so happy to see that door, so happy to fit her key into the lock, run up the stairs to the third floor and…No, not now.

  The cabbie had turned. “This the right place?”

  Jess nodded. “Yup.” She stared down at the floor, then back up to the cabbie. “Look, I don’t have the fare. I don’t even have anywhere close to it. I could lie and say I thought I had my wallet with me. I could try to see if you’d let me run inside to get you your money, but I don’t want to do that to you. Fact is, I’m just too worn out to do anything but tell you the truth. I don’t know what happens here. Do you take me to the police? Fine, if that’s what you have to do. But I don’t have thirty-two sixty-five. I don’t even the sixty-five cents.” She bowed her head and whispered, “And I don’t even have it inside.”

  The cab driver stared at her, frowning. Jess knew she was attractive, and she hoped the way he appraised her didn’t mean he was thinking of making her a deal: she could pay off her fare in trade. It wouldn’t have surprised her. And she didn’t know what she’d do if he asked. It might just be easier to go ahead with it, get it over with. That’s how much Jess cared about herself this day after Christmas.

  The cabbie, like so many drivers in Chicago, looked Middle Eastern. He had a big moustache and irises so dark they swallowed his pupils.

  He slowly shook his head and scratched his ear. “You should have told me.”

  “I know, but I needed to get home.” Suddenly, Jess felt a ball forming in her throat and hot tears spring to her eyes. She didn’t want to start bawling in front of this stranger. She sucked in a big breath. “I’m sorry. I guess I could have at least asked you first, given you the choice. But…” And she felt the tears coming close again. “I didn’t even have enough for the El. And I was too tired and too afraid to walk.”

  “I could have you arrested.”

  “Whatever you have to do.” Jess shrugged and stared out the window.

&
nbsp; “I’m not going to have you arrested. This is the end of my shift. The last thing I want to do is go to the police station. I just want to go home and go to bed. Don’t do this again, Miss. The next driver might not be so nice, you know? And the next driver might have worse in mind than the police, if you understand my meaning?”

  Jess nodded.

  “Now get out of the car.”

  Jess jumped from the Yellow Cab and closed the door quickly. The car roared away from her, braking with a squeal where the street ended at Paulina.

  She hadn’t even remembered to say thank you.

  When Jess left the apartment the night before, she had not expected to return. She didn’t think of her suicide attempt as a “cry for help.” She’d had every intention of ending things, of putting herself out of her misery. So, it felt a little strange to be standing there in front of this red brick building she had called home for the past three years, almost like the cab driver had made several wrong turns and deposited her in front of a place she had never seen before.

  She looked up to the balcony on the third floor. It was barren and empty. She remembered how it had once been full to overflowing with planters and plants. How a rainbow wind sock, in the shape of a trout, had swayed in the breeze. Now it was all gone. She remembered last Christmas when they put out a tree on the balcony, festooned with big multicolored lights.

  Jess gulped, trying to hold back the force of emotion, the wave that washed over her. She wasn’t going to let herself break down, not here in the middle of the street. But she still wasn’t sure she could go back inside.

  Deciding to kill herself, she thought grimly, had been easier. Once she had made the decision, she experienced a sense of calm, almost serenity. All the pain was over. The tears dried up. The yearning ache in her gut vanished.

  Now, the same feelings came back, clamoring for attention. She turned to look east down the street. The sky was still dark. Dawn’s pink fingers would not be creeping up over the water for another couple of hours, at least.

  There was nothing else to do, really, but pull her keys from her dress pocket and go inside. There was nowhere else to go. Oddly enough, she didn’t really feel like killing herself anymore. The attempt had been catharsis enough she supposed.