Past Malice (29 page)

B
UCKY LOOKED LIKE GRAY DEATH BY THE TIME WE
were able to take her home late the next day. I knew she would be better when I told her that I’d called Ma and Dad and Beebee, and that they’d be down for a visit the following weekend. Separate days, of course.

“You can’t not tell your parents your sister’s been poisoned,” I argued. “It isn’t right.”

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them,” Bucky muttered. She stroked Quasi absently; he bore it tolerantly and then she scooped him up and cuddled him, nuzzling into the back of his head. He took that too, for nearly thirty seconds, before he strained to get away, pushing at her chest with all four feet, and then jumping off her. He slithered under the bed to repair his dignity. “Or, better yet, you could just tell them that I’m in a coma or something. No visitors.”

“
Bucky
.”

“I know, I know. But don’t say anything if I play up needing long naps and lots of quiet.”

“I won’t. But you could even be home by then, tomorrow, if you want.”

“No, I’m good here. I’ll be out of bed tomorrow, I think. I can’t stand lying around anymore, which is saying something. And you won’t have to wait on me anymore, either. I’m sorry you’ll be shorthanded on the site, though.”

I picked up an empty orange juice glass. “It won’t be too bad. You going to make a habit of it? Helping me out every summer, I mean?”

She made a face. “Nope. Once is enough. I couldn’t do what you do. I’m not patient enough.”

“But you’re patient enough to sew an animal’s insides back together.”

“That’s different. Maybe I’ll come down and talk to you while you get dinner going.”

“Good. You up to peeling a few spuds?”

Bucky pretended to be faint. “Pass the smelling salts, I feel another attack of the vapors coming on!”

“I’ll give you the vapors. Need a hand getting up?”

“No, I’m good.”

I watched her get out of bed and make her way downstairs, then felt something at once soft and solid hit my ankle. I looked down to see what of Bucky’s crap was in my way and saw Quasi bang his head against my ankle again. I was too stunned to do anything, and before I could stoop to try to pat him, he slunk down the stairs like smoke following a draft. However grudgingly, however probationary, for some reason, he had accepted me into his pride.

Even better and far less surprising than that, things between me and Brian were back to normal too. It felt so good that I didn’t acknowledge to myself what I knew deep down in my heart of hearts: We were better now only because the threat of danger was now gone. Our mutual relief was so great and so welcome that I put off worrying what
might happen should the issue ever come up again.

I picked up the empty sandwich plate, thinking about relationships, how complicated and how necessary they were, and how much hard work they required.

“You know, you really should get your hair cut short,” Bucky called up to me as she descended the stairs.

I followed her downstairs and decided that it was more than time for me to give Bucky the advice she’d come for but not yet actually asked to hear. “Great. Fine. So long as we’re talking makeovers, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll give short hair a chance if you give Joel a chance. A real chance. You up for a little psychology?”

She rolled her eyes. “A very little. My gratitude doesn’t stretch as far as it used to.”

“I’ll say. Okay, I think that keeping people, including a decent guy, at arm’s length—through hiding out in books or focusing on animals or being cantankerous—won’t keep you from getting hurt. Maybe it has something to do with Ma and Dad divorcing.”

She paused on the steps. The Chin was nowhere to be seen. “I’ve been hiding out in books and animals since before they split.”

“Yeah, well, just be sure you’re not just letting some little stuff get in the way of what could be a pretty good thing, okay?”

Bucky shrugged. “Hey, it’s no skin off my ass. If Joel turns out to be a real freak, well, I can just dump him again.” She continued into the kitchen. “Your hair will take a couple of years to grow back, at least.”

“Fine. So is that a deal?”

“I s’ pose so.”

“Good. Because guess who else I invited to dinner on Friday night?”

“Joel.” She exhaled heavily and leaned against the banis
ter, but didn’t really look mad or disappointed. In fact, she was almost smiling. “You’re such a bossy bitch,” she said. But affectionately.

I nodded. “Rhymes with control freak.”

Later that weekend, while Brian was out to pick up some ice cream for the invalid, I was being blackmailed over the phone.

“You can either get down here now, and give this newbie the glowing recommendation that I deserve, or you can forget working with me. Ever.”

I sighed, not in the mood for any of it; I’d had enough of blackmail for a good long time, even the tame stuff that Nolan tried. He meant it all the same. “Just put her on the phone. That way I don’t have to get off my ass.”

“Put her on the phone? That’s rich. That’s pretty good. No, I think we both know that there’s nothing quite as reassuring as a face to face, and from what I’ve seen of you lately, your ass could use a little time off the chair.”

That was a lie and we both know it, but there was no way he was going to tell me how well I’d done, even if he was asking me to do him a favor.

“You can tell the newbie just how I saved your bacon. You’ll like that, you’ll sound tough.”

“Nobody saved my bacon but me. And I am tough. I am one tough mutha.” I was sure that Nolan could hear my grin through the phone. “Fine, you win. I’ll be down there as soon as I can.”

“Sooner.” Then there was a click as he hung up.

I checked in on Bucky, telling her I wouldn’t be more than an hour. She was fine, however, didn’t look up from the stack of books she was reading, even to scoff at my suggestion of putting on the alarm while I was away. “What, is Perry going to stage a jailbreak?”

I stuck out my tongue, glad that she was feeling good
enough to give me some sass, and hit the road. There was little traffic, and I got there earlier than I expected.

“Thanks for coming, Dr. Fielding.” As always, in his office and upon greeting, Nolan was the soul of politesse. If you could ignore the hard bands of muscles that seemed to cover every inch of him, from his earlobes down, I suspected, to his little toes, the odd scar here and there, and then imagine him in a suit instead of sweats, it would have been no problem to imagine him taking tea and making polite conversation. So long as he didn’t inadvertently crush the porcelain handle of the teacup into powder between his overdeveloped thumb and fingers.

“Nice haircut; very…whatshername?
The X-Files
…Agent Scully. Takes years off you.”

“Thanks. But I don’t see why I couldn’t have written you a letter or just let the other person call me,” I grumbled.

“As I’ve told you before, we get all sorts in here. Kids who want to be Jackie Chan, guys who want to think they’re hard, guys who are hard and need to keep that way, little old ladies who’ve decided they’ve been too scared for too long. I do my best to help all of them, according to their needs. Even smart-aleck archaeologists who get themselves in over their heads.”

“I did exactly what you taught me to do, even if it wasn’t textbook form. I made a decision, I didn’t overanalyze, I got in, I got out.” I was a little miffed; I suppose I had been hoping for a pat on the back, but with Nolan, it was more likely that any pat he’d give me would result in bruises.

“Getting yourself into the situation in the first place is not what I taught you to do.” He seemed to consider. “But I have five sisters, and if one of them, even one of the loud ones, was in the kind of trouble yours was in, I suspect I would have done the same thing. You get points for that, Fielding.”

Fielding. I felt as though he’d just pinned a medal on me.

“Maybe next time, you won’t take so damn long about it.”

“Maybe.” I restrained myself from making a face, knowing that any sarcasm on my part would result in a worse time of it when I came in for my next session. “Maybe there won’t be a next time.”

Nolan threw back his head and laughed, a noise that was like a jet breaking the sound barrier. “That’s a good one.”

I shrugged. It wasn’t all
that
likely.

“In any case, I’m here to make sure you get what you need. Just in case there is a next time.” He looked past my shoulder and nodded approval. “Here we are then, right on time. Good evening, Dr. Chang.”

I whipped my head around to see Brian standing behind me, wearing a new pair of sweat pants and new sneakers. “Brian! What are you—?”

“You mentioned that I’d never had a self-defense class. I figured, why should you have all the fun?”

“I wouldn’t call it fun,” I said, glancing hurriedly over at Nolan. He seemed to be preoccupied with papers on his desk. “Most of the time, I don’t even know what I’m doing. It’s pretty tough going.”

He took my hand. “Well, I can take it if you can.”