Gods of Wood and Stone by Mark Di Ionno

Author:Mark Di Ionno [Ionno, Mark Di]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781501178924
Publisher: Touchstone
Published: 2018-07-17T07:00:00+00:00

* * *

THEY WERE GOING TO DINNER at the club, and he told her to bundle up.

“We’ll open up the sun roof,” he said. “You know, it’ll be like all that Beach Boys stuff we never had in high school.”

He turned out of Union, this way and that, and started the climb up Route 78 toward the Hobart Gap, which split the millionaire sections of Summit and Short Hills.

“I’m surprised you didn’t move up here,” she said as they drove through.

“Too close. I wanted to buy my folks a house up here, but they wouldn’t leave Union.”

“I know. I couldn’t get my parents to move until Mom broke her hip. Then they had to have one floor,” Stacy said. “They’re down in Bricktown, in one of those Leisure Village places. They love it. My father said, ‘I wish we did this ten years ago.’ I was like, ‘I wish you did, too.’ ”

She tightened her scarf as the car picked up speed.

“If you’re cold . . . ,” Grudeck started.

“No, it’s fine. Fun. It’s good to get out.”

Grudeck reached over and squeezed her hand. She squeezed back and, like, thirty years just came off the clock. There was no pain in his hand, as he gunned it through both ridges of the Watchungs.

At the club, he guided Stacy through the dining room, nodding and shaking hands—“The mayor,” she said out of the side of her mouth—but he got a corner table and put his back to everyone, to discourage them from interrupting. Mostly, he wanted to avoid the Joanie MacIntoshes of the club. Stacy would pick up on it, no matter how quick and superficial the pleasantries.

“So,” Stacy asked, after the waiter opened a bottle of house Merlot. “Why am I here?”

“You asking me or yourself?” Grudeck asked.

She laughed, and it was so abrupt and genuine, Grudeck again wanted to just . . . just . . . love her.

“Both, I guess,” she said. “But you go first.”

“I don’t know, Stacy,” Grudeck began. “The life I’ve led . . . I’ve been away a long time. Sometimes I feel so . . . unattached, I guess. And you were always somebody I felt attached to.”

“Me? Jesus, Joe, we haven’t talked in almost thirty years,” she said with a facetious wave. “And please don’t tell me you dreamed about me all those long, lonely nights on the road. I think we both know better.”

“No, I mean, back then . . . back then, I felt like you were somebody . . . I don’t know how to explain it . . . somebody that really knew me. The real me.”

Her eyes searched his face. He knew she was looking for sincerity.

“It’s true,” he added. “I felt closer to you than anybody back then. Maybe ever.”

She shook her head in exaggerated disbelief, then laughed.

“Stop it, will you,” she said. “Me, the closest? But when you left, that was that. Not a call, not a letter. Please.”

She said this without anger or bitterness; it was more of a don’t-bullshit-me statement of fact.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.