Bury the Lead

45



ELIOT KENDALL’S disappearance is a major national story. It’s been two weeks now, and speculation runs rampant on where the heir to the Kendall fortune could be. I, of course, know exactly where he is, and that he is permanently sucking dirt. It bothers me that I am aware of two violent deaths and haven’t done my civic duty and gone to the police, but I’ll get over it.

Vince was unapologetic about informing Petrone of Eliot’s guilt. He wanted to make sure that Eliot got the punishment due him, and he had more confidence in Petrone’s ability to make that happen than he had in mine. In retrospect, he certainly was right.

I’ve had three conversations with Vince since coming home, and he’s probably mentioned that he saved my life a hundred and fifty times. The last twenty times I haven’t thanked him, but that hasn’t slowed him down any.

The incident in Cleveland has stayed with me. I was literally running for my life, and I fully expected to die. I know it’s a cliché to say that experiences like that put things in perspective, but they really do. The experience has changed me, and I’ve been trying to focus on that which is important, and that means focusing on those I love.

I’ve been spending as much time as I can with Laurie and Tara, and today we’re hiking in the rolling mountains in northwest New Jersey. Nothing too arduous; I haven’t changed that much. But the air is cold, and it feels good to be outside, especially with Laurie and Tara. There’s an inch of snow on the ground, and Tara loves to roll around in it.

About a half hour into the hike, Laurie says, “Doesn’t the fresh air feel wonderful?”

“You never talk about getting married,” I say.

“That answer wasn’t exactly on point,” she says.

“The fresh air feels wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. Much better than stale air would feel, I’ll tell you that. So why don’t you ever talk about getting married?”

“It’s not something to talk about. It’s something to do or not do.”

“But you never mention it. That’s a little unusual, don’t you think?” I ask.

“Andy, are you asking me to marry you?”

Uh-oh. The direct approach. This is not my strong suit. The fact is, it’s not so much that I want to get married, but more that I want Laurie to want to. “Would you say yes if I did?”

She smiles slightly. “Okay, I’ll let you off the hook and answer your question without you having to ask it. No, I don’t want to marry you. Not now.”

I feel like somebody just hit me in the stomach with a seven-hundred-pound snowball. “Why?”

“Andy, I love you. Right now I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I don’t know if that will ever change; I hope it doesn’t. But I’ve just never had a need to be married. If it’s that important to you, I’ll do it. But it won’t make me love you any more, because I couldn’t love anyone any more than I love you.”

Tara barks, which I think is her way of telling me to keep my mouth shut and leave well enough alone. I can’t stifle a smile as I look up toward the sky and take a deep breath. “The air really feels great, doesn’t it?”