As Jimmy Devine sat at the other end of the runway of china and silver, Gannon saw that he was wearing the same pinstriped gray suit but the tie was gone. He also noticed that his face had a flush to it. Gannon eyed him in the candlelight. Jimmy seemed very drunk.
Just as he noted this, a formally attired waiter, a morose-looking middle-aged Hispanic man with a mustache, came in through the swinging door. He held a silver tray before Gannon. There were little toothpicked cubes of food on it.
At least it isn’t a .38, Gannon thought, eyeing the tray suspiciously.
“Don’t worry,” Jimmy Devine said. “My chef is quite playful. This is just an appetizer. Don’t look. You’re supposed to select one at random and eat it. Paolo, show him.”
“My pleasure,” Paolo said as he selected one with his free hand.
Gannon followed suit.
“What did you get?” Jimmy Devine said after he had selected his own and popped it into his mouth.
“A tangerine,” Paolo said. “A very tasty one.”
“And you, Mike?” Jimmy said.
“Potato, I think,” Gannon said, chewing.
“Ha! How ironic. Bless your Irish heart,” Jimmy said.
“Yeah, all I need is a six-pack for my seven-course meal, and I’ll be good to go,” Gannon said good-naturedly. “What did you get, buddy?”
“A jalapeño,” Jimmy said with an almost girlish giggle.
“Is that right?” Gannon said, nodding at Paolo and then smiling despite all the insanity. “Got some of the hot stuff, huh?”
“How do you like my table here?” Jimmy said.
Gannon studied it. It actually was very nice. In all the flickering light, the highly shellacked inlaid top of it gleamed like a sheet of volcanic glass.
“It’s beautiful. What is it? Maple?” Gannon said.
“Pollard oak. Notice the tiger’s-eye effect in the grain. It’s an actual Chippendale.”
Gannon smiled politely as he looked down at it some more.
“Gorgeous,” he said.
“As you can see, I’ve come to like beautiful things, Mike,” Jimmy Devine said as he swept a hand at the room.
“Oh, so you two know each other?” Paolo said. “Some history, yes?”
Jimmy looked at him, assessing.
“You know, Paolo, I apologize,” he said as he pressed a button.
Button Eyes came in.
“This was a bit premature. As much as I love dining with you and wanted you guys to meet, I actually have some personal things to discuss with my old friend here. This is a reunion of sorts.”
“Of course, James,” Paolo said, standing and offering his hand to be cuffed. “Old friends do not need a third wheel. I understand perfectly. Miguel, again a pleasure.”
“Same here,” Gannon said.
“And please try the soup,” Paolo called on his way out. “You will thank me later.”
After Paolo was led away, Gannon turned to see Jimmy lovingly staring up at the portraits behind him, which somehow, despite their rodent-like ugliness and moles, managed to gaze arrogantly back.
“Do you see Paolo’s manners, Mike?” he said as the door swung closed. “That’s pure old-world charm. We miss so much being American. How to live elegantly. You know how well read he is? He gardens, too. He gave me advice about my tomatoes.”
“Jimmy, that’s, um...cool,” Gannon said with a hopefully calming smile. “Your whole setup here. It’s ah, really...um...really cool.”
Jimmy popped a button on his shirt to show his bare muscular chest.
“Yes,” Jimmy said. “Things change, you know. People, too. I’ve grown so much.”