Chapter Fifty

 

6:15 p.m. EST

 

The thundershower over, the sun bright, driving to Pompano Marina, Zack stopped at another pay phone. After some delay, he made a reservation out of Fort Lauderdale’s Hollywood International to Washington’s Dulles airport.

Unsure about everything, arriving at the marina a little past six, figuring Veracity bugged, certain that the more they thought him insane the better, he boarded and began scolding his boat.

“All right, where were you?I smell it, you were outDon’t lie to me, I smell it, booze and men’s cologne.” He upset a bar stool, paused then apologized. “I’m sorry. I know how lonely you get, but I have to be gone tonight, to visit Mother in Orlando. She’s not feeling wellwater problemsbut I hope to be back tomorrow and we’re going out, for surenow, don’t start thatyou did? Tell me more.”

He stripped, threw his clothes on a chair and put on a pot of seven-cup-brew coffee. “Really? You caught how many?I don’t believe thatLet’s eat.”

He drank a large glass of orange juice, sucked three raw eggs from their shells and retrieved a cup of coffee from the brewing coffee maker.

Continuing the conversation with Veracity, he took a shower.

“I heard you, dear. Like I said, Mother has water problems, but I hope to be back tomorrow and we’re going out, I promise.”

Shaved, he dressed in his one formal outfit–white long sleeve clerical shirt sans the white collar, blue sports jacket, tan slacks. Not owning a pair of hole free socks he slipped on brown tassel loafers.

Dressed, he inserting the Joe Case CD in his CD player, checked the batteries, placed the player in his briefcase then spoke to Veracity.

“You be careful now, honey, and no going out by yourselfno, no, no, remember that last time? You got lostthe sharkslove ya, I’m going to Orlando now, to see Mother.”

Briefcase in hand, he exited the cabin, stepped to the dock, and walked down the jetty, past the newspaper dispensers, Marina office, to his car that seemed to melt into the steaming white parking-lot sand. He squeezed behind the blistering steering wheel, but before he could close the door, he heard tires crackling over breaking shells and looked to the sound.

Mary’s familiar yellow Volkswagen Beetle pulled beside him. She lowered the right window and said, “Going somewhere?”

“What in the namewhat are you doing?”

“Selling Girl Scout cookies. Wanta buy some?”

“Mary”

“I talked to Jim.”

“Oh.”

“Get in, I’ll take you to the airport.”

Zack grabbed his briefcase and slid in beside her. “I”

“I really don’t feel like talking right now, about anything. Close the door.”

“I”

“Nothing.”

“Stay off the freeways, Fort Lauderdale, Hollywood International”

“What time is your flight?”

“Eight-thirty.”

“Thanks.” She backed away, turned and drove off at a pretty good clip.

“Mary, I”

“I’d rather not talk.”

They drove in silence until the airport’s curbside drop-off was in sight.

Mary said, “Which one?”

“United.”

She drove a little then stopped at United. “Just want you to know, Boca” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I love you.”

“I”

“And another thing.” She paused.

“I”

She touched his lips. “I don’t want you to say anything–rationalize, analyze, preach, lecture–nothing, okaywhen I’m finished saying what I’m going to sayjust get out and go do what you have to do. Okay?”

“Finished?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“When you get back, we’re going for a boat ride. I’m finished. Bye.”