The Fives Run North-South (35 page)

The back room of Baluzzo’s Tavern was the scene of the private party, the favored place for Paul’s firm, and it was crowded with more than just the typical people. An entirely different feel from his father’s
funeral
—
the
last social gathering Ben had
attended
—
people
milled around flashing only the best jewelry, eating only the best hors d’oeuvres. Ben had been impressed, though hardly surprised at how well Cary seemed to fit in, as if she’d been born to be the centerpiece of such gatherings. Paul, also in his element, did his best to channel and control the attention paid to the guest of honor, the latest buzzy writer of the moment, Ben Keaton.

“Hear, hear!” Cary said, raising her glass as well.

Flier
had skyrocketed and was currently at number one. It had been for nearly four months. Most predicted that
Dented
would displace it rapidly.

Ben lifted his glass. “And to Rob Keaton, author and father.”

They toasted again then resumed their conversations, breaking apart to refill glasses and resume efforts to make all the appropriate connections before the party’s end. Ben relaxed a bit as attention dispersed from him. Paul nudged his arm.

“Amazing how we got here, hey?”

Ben nodded.

“So Edward agreed to meet with you,” Paul said.

“In three days,” Ben said. “If he shows.”

“He’ll show.”

Ben nodded, more to keep Paul from continuing than from agreement. Even if he chose to believe him, he refused to get his hopes up.

“I have to say,” Paul said. “I was beginning to sweat whether you’d finish
Dented
.”

“Oh? I didn’t notice.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, my worry was for your sake more than mine.”

“That’d be a first.”

Paul nodded. “I think you’re right on that. But look,” he said, waving his hand across the crowd, and at the posters of
Dented
’s
cover that hung from the ceiling along the perimeter of the room. “This is the happy ending I was expecting. The story was great, and you had the chops your father always said you did. It was quite an accomplishment.”

“Whatever.”

Cary punched Ben in the arm and said to Paul: “He feels the same. I know. He talks in his sleep.”

“Oh,” Paul said, looking beyond them. “Look who’s here.”

They both turned.

“I’m pleased to introduce you to the newest associate in our promotions department,” Paul continued.

From out of the crowd, Walter slipped toward them. He was being swallowed by his tuxedo and was smiling with as much gusto as he’d ever mustered.

“Walter?” Ben said. “Really?”

Paul turned to him and shrugged. “I still can’t stand the twerp, but you live with a fungus long enough, I suppose you get used to it.”

“Hey, guys,” Walter said.

“Get a good deal on the tux rental?” Paul asked.

“No,” Walter said. Then he turned to Cary. “Did you get some of those raw burger balls?”

She shook her head. “I’ll leave those to you.”

“Congrats on the new job,” Ben said.

“Yeah,” Walter nodded before breaking into a smile.

“One more toast,” said Paul. “A bit lower profile, but now that the gang’s here…it’s been a strange year and a difficult one. All I want to
say
—
at
the risk of offending Rob in heaven by sounding a bit
cliché
—
is
that some good has come from bad. We’ll never forget those we’ve lost, and we thank them for helping us get where we are today. I’m grateful to have you all as friends.”

They raised their glasses.

“Walter,” Paul said after drinking. “Is that
7
-
Up
?”

The day was getting late and Edward was obviously getting antsy. Ben wanted to reach out and grab him. Hold him down in a
half
-
hug
, keep him close. But one cannot hug sand.

“The watches?” Ben asked.

Edward looked down. Then nodded. “Think what you will. Granddad said he wanted me to have them after he was gone. I like watches, though I had to sell a couple. But he saw me looking at them one day, and we talked about them. Something about watches…anyway, he said he’d leave them all to me except one.”

“The Dickens watch.”

“He said that was going to be yours. So I got it to you,” Edward said. “I don’t know, I just felt like he really meant it when he said I was to have those. So I took them. You can believe me or not…”

“I believe you,” Ben said.

They both looked down at the table, frozen in a similar thought.

“You need to get going, don’t you?” Ben said.

Edward nodded.

“I’m glad you came to see me,” Ben said.

“Hmmm.”

“You’re welcome to see me any time.”

“I’m not really a family Thanksgiving dinner type of guy,” Edward said. “But…who knows? Granddad had lots of thoughts about helping me get my act together. What I liked about him was that he said I’d know when it was time.”

“He was probably right,” Ben said. “He was on most things.”

Edward stood up and started to walk away. After just a few steps, he stopped, turned around, and said: “You know, about a month before he died, Granddad said something to me. He said, ‘Ben was a much better father than I was.’”

Ben smiled and nodded, lifting his shoulders in a mild shrug.

“No,” Edward said. “He said it in a way that was solid. Like it was something he believed way deep down inside.”

“Thanks for that,” Ben said.

“You know what I said?”

Ben shook his head.

“I said: ‘That’s funny. Because he was a much better son than I was.’” Edward started walking away again. “Just thought I should say that,” he mumbled, more to the space in front of him than to Ben.

Ben watched his son walk away, fading as he moved down the sidewalk, eventually swallowed by the crowd. He looked for a second at Cary, afraid to speak. She held his gaze, steady and firm. Ben lowered his head to gather himself by looking at the sidewalk.

After a second, he felt her hand slide onto his shoulder. Gently, but there. With a promise to remain.