Waiting by Frank M. Robinson

Author:Frank M. Robinson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 2012-05-10T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

“I thought I was going to have to ask Accounting to mail you your check,” Connie said. “Anything more on Mark?”

“I made a few phone calls trying to track down a possible girlfriend he might have left with. Either everybody’s keeping silent out of loyalty or, more likely, nobody wants to get involved. He’s underage and if she was over eighteen, then she probably broke the law and goddammit—”

Connie held up her hand. “Not being cruel, Artie, but the cops aren’t going to get their water hot about a seventeen-year-old boy and a nineteen-year-old girl running off to Palm Springs or wherever for a little fun in the sun. If she were older, they might look into it, but only for a snicker or two.”

Artie sagged into his chair and watched the bustle outside in the newsroom. “When do you stop being a parent, Connie? When do you decide to let them go out on their own?”

She looked sympathetic. “One, you never stop. And two, you don’t do the deciding—they do. And please don’t ask me how I handle Elizabeth and John. I don’t. And it’s not because they’re adopted.”

“I don’t understand Mark,” Artie said, his voice close to despair.

“You only think you don’t. Wait a few years and when you talk to him, you’ll be talking to a duplicate of yourself.”

Artie glanced at the clock. Late afternoon. He’d spent more time at Mary’s than he’d thought. She’d scared the crap out of him and he’d called Levin right after he had left. Mitch had been out of the office but he’d try him at home that night, tell him what Mary had said and scare the crap out of him, too.

The desk was still piled high with printouts and books and half a dozen tape cassettes. Artie thumbed through a stack: the Grub must be spending all his time searching the Internet and Nexis,

“You’re going to have to bring me up to speed, Connie.”

“Sure.” She said it offhand and continued staring through the glass at the newsroom outside.

Artie watched for a second, worried, then figured Connie was herself, though it was the first time Artie had seen her in a blue funk.

“Earth to Connie Lee, Earth—”

“Sorry, Artie.” She rubbed at her face and blinked open her eyes. “What’d you want to know?”

No jokes and funny stories today, Artie thought. “You’re still you, right?”

She frowned. “Yeah,” she said uncertainly, “we had an argument or something. I’d forgotten all about that.”

Artie shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.” The Old People were keeping one step ahead of him.

Connie thumbed through a stack of reports. “To be honest, Artie, I’m sorry as shit I ever got involved in this. You read enough of these and after a while you begin to think you’ve got a ringside seat at the end of the world. It’s all around us, nobody’s doing anything about it, and you feel like you’re barreling toward the edge of the cliff at full speed. Maybe we won’t go over in my lifetime, but we sure as hell will in my kids’.

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