When she was gone, I told Mary what she’d whispered. She closed her eyes and tightened her lips. “Shit. Okay, Max, stay cool. Don’t fly off and get crazy, or you’ll blow this. First, you’ve got to see what kind it is. Maybe it’s only an air pistol or something, a pellet gun, he doesn’t want you to know he has.
“If not, if it’s a real piece, try and get the serial number off it so we can find out if it’s hot. You’ve got to handle this right or we’ll be in big trouble.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Max—”
“I said I’ll take care of it, Mary. I’ll do what you told me. There’s nothing else to do, is there?”
“Not yet. But remember, it could be nothing. Teenage boys love this stuff, but it doesn’t mean—”
“I know that, but we also knew Bobby Hanley, didn’t we?”
Without making eye contact, she stood and buttoned her jacket. Bobby Hanley was a legendarily violent, frightening kid from our hometown who had ended up dying in a gun battle with the police.
“Bobby Hanley was a criminal. Your son’s a messed-up brat, not a criminal.”
“He has a fucking gun, Mary. How do I know he’s not?”
“Because he isn’t. Okay? Because he is not. I’m going to go right now and talk to my friend Dominic Scanlan at the LAPD. I’ll get him to check out… I don’t know. I want to feel him out on this. He’ll know what direction to take. But we’ll find out. You look at that gun and get the numbers off it, if it’s the real thing. But don’t take it. Don’t touch it. If Lincoln’s done anything wrong and knows you know about his gun, it’ll complicate things. I’ll call you in a couple hours.”
When she was gone, I went to find Greer. She was out on the back patio eating a brownie. I put my arm around her and sat us down on a sun chair.
“Is Mary gone?”
“Uh-huh. Listen, sweetie, I was thinking about what you just told me.”
“About Lincoln’s gun? I know I shouldn’t have gone in his room, Daddy. I know you and Mom said not to. Are you mad?”
“I’m not happy. Plus, I know you wouldn’t like someone snooping round in your room.”
She hung her head. “I’d hate it.”
“Okay, then that’s that. Let’s forget about it. I know how much your brother loves you but he’d probably be really upset and disappointed if he knew you were doing it again. Remember last time? So look, if you don’t tell him what you told me, I won’t say anything either. It’ll be our secret. But you’ve got to keep the secret, Greer. ‘Cause if anyone finds out, you’re the one it’ll hurt.”
“Are you going to tell Mommy?”
“Mom doesn’t need to know either.”
Hearing that, she knew she was off the hook and could be mischievous again. “Okay, but sometimes I can’t keep a secret, Dad. I just have to open my mouth and scream it out ‘cause it’s like a burp, you know? Like it can’t live in my stomach or I’ll explode.”
“Baby, do what you like, but if you tell Lincoln, he’s not going to let you in his room again, because he won’t trust you. If you tell Mom, remember what she said last time about snooping where you’re not supposed to in the house. I don’t think it’s a good idea to talk about this with anyone, but the decision is up to you.”
“Are you going to tell anyone?”
“No.”
“It’s bad, huh, Dad? About Lincoln having it.”
“I’m not sure yet. I think it’s kind of bad because what does he need a gun for?”
“Maybe he wants to protect us!”
“I’ll protect us. He knows he doesn’t have to worry about that.”
“Maybe he wants to show off. Or maybe he’s going to shoot someone!”
“I hope no one we know!”
Looking to see if I was serious, her small concerned face relaxed as soon as I smiled and she understood I was joking.
I could trust her not to tell only for a little while because sooner or later Greer spilled any bean she owned. I called Lily at Crowds and Power and said we would be going over there for dinner. She was in a good mood and wanted to know if anything new was happening.
“Nothing much, except I love you.”
“That’s new? We’ve been together seven years but only now you’re starting to love me?”
“I think we love differently every day. Like the guy who said you can’t stand in a river at exactly the same place twice. Today I love you differently than yesterday, or will tomorrow.”
“Oh. Uh, Max, are you okay?”
“Is that Mommy on the phone? Can I talk to her?”
I handed the phone to Greer. She took it with two hands and pressed it tight up against her face.
“Mom? Ms. Zuckerbrot says I have to bring two thousand peanut butter cookies to class Thursday for our party.”
I heard Lily squawk, “Two thousand!?” Greer giggled into her hand and grinned at me. “Just kidddding. But I do have to have a lot of cookies for the party. Will you help me make them?”
We worked on her homework together and then played Chinese checkers for another hour.
“Max, I’m going out.”
I turned and saw Little White making a flirty face at Elvis. He grabbed her by the jaw and apparently squeezed too hard, because she squealed like a pig and slapped his hand away. “You always hurt me, assho—” Seeing us, she caught herself and gave a lame smile. Lincoln ignored them.
“Be back by seven, huh? We’re going to the restaurant for dinner.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Lincoln, be home at seven o’clock tonight. I don’t care if you’re hungry.”
Elvis whistled and shook his hand slowly back and forth at my “show of might.” The girl rubbed her jaw.
“Whaddya want me to do there, sit at the table with an empty plate and listen to all the fags?”
“If you want to be sarcastic, tiger, you gotta be witty too. You almost have the tone now, but you ain’t got the funny yet.”
Little White thought this was hilarious. She clapped her hands delightedly. Elvis put a finger out, touched him on the arm, and, pretending to be burned, made a hissing sound and whipped his hand back fast.
“Guess he burned your ass, Linco.”
“I guess you better kiss my ass, Elvo. Come on, we’re outta here.”
They trooped out in their seven-league Gestapo boots and I’d guess it was my son who slammed the door and then gave it a loud kick for good measure.
“How come you and Lincoln always fight, Daddy?”
“Because I think he should do certain things but he thinks he shouldn’t. Come on, it’s your move.”
Seven o’clock rolled around with no sign of him. I waited another half hour before going to dinner. I tried to be as calm and good-natured as I could with Greer, while at the same time figuring out what to do with her brother. Getting into his room was no problem—a week after he put the lock on his door, I had a locksmith come in and make me a copy of the key. What I’d told Mary was true—I had been in his room only once since the lock was installed, but I’d also stopped trusting our son long ago and felt the secret key necessary. No one knew I had it, not even Lily.
Crowds and Power was packed with pretties when we arrived. In the years since Lily and I met, it had become one of the “power” spots in Los Angeles for people to meet and be seen. Articles were written about it in trendy magazines, the parking lot was invariably full of the appropriate German, English, and Italian cars with license plates that said things like “L.A. Gent,” and getting a table reservation was tough if you were not important. Ibrahim and Gus were still together despite their never-ending bickers, yet I liked them less because of how they had changed with their success. On the one hand, they worked too hard to be cool. On the other, both were overtly sycophantic. This showed in the way they dealt with their increasingly famous clientele. If you were someone, a table was always ready. If you weren’t, you might be allowed to sit in the back near the kitchen. The no-man’s-land Gus called “Table Hell.” There was little of the original warmth and happy frenzy that had been such a precious trademark of the place when I’d first known it. A few years back there had been a palace revolt because of this elemental change of heart. The Band sisters and Mabdean Kessack quit because none of them liked how elitist and false their bosses had become. In a move that troubled Lily because it erased most of what was left of the original “feel” of the restaurant, Ibrahim replaced the women with a gay couple named Ace and Berndt who were both very swish and snobbish but efficient.