The Famous and the Dead

46



Two days later Bradley and Owens walked along the lily pond at Balboa Park in San Diego, surrounded by the old buildings, stately and ornate. The day was brisk. Bradley pushed the stroller and Owens held his arm and a picnic basket. Thomas’s head, barely visible within the blankets, rocked gently with the motion of his ride. They passed a mime and a juggler and a young man with no arms, playing a guitar with his feet. He was very good. They stopped and watched and Owens tipped him two hundred dollars when the song was over.

Mike rose from the bench and waved when he saw them. Bradley steered the stroller his way. Bradley felt his pulse speed up and he tried to talk it down. Owens had briefed him on the Method, where an actor recalls something from her personal past to help make her acting more convincing in the present. Looking at Finnegan from fifty feet away, Bradley’s first impulse was to draw the sidearm from the crook of his back and riddle the man with bullets. But his purpose now—perhaps the most important in his young life—was not to injure Mike but to deceive him, to convince him of Bradley’s happiness here in this moment. So he pictured the first time he’d seen Erin, onstage and in the lights . . .

Mike was dressed in sporty black warm-ups and bright yellow-and-green soccer shoes. He wore gold chains around his neck and a monstrous gold Rolex encrusted with diamonds. Ridiculous, as always, thought Bradley, but he knew by now it was a ruse. Mike swept up Thomas, blankets and all, and smiled down into the newborn’s pink, doubtful face. “Beautiful is not the word,” he said. “The word, to my knowledge, has not yet been invented. My goodness.”

Owens let go of Bradley’s arm and hugged Mike rather stiffly, then returned to Bradley’s side. He gently gathered her against him, smiling at Mike and picturing the first time he’d introduced Erin to his mother. Mike gave him an inquisitive look. “It’s heartening to see two of my favorite people, together. Bradley—it must be nice to be loved for who you are, rather than resented for who you are not.” Then he returned his attention to the baby in his arms.

Bradley said nothing. He absently stroked Owens’s arm, calling up another pleasant memory, this time of fishing with his little brother in the Valley Center pond. Jordan. He was way over in Hawaii now, living with Ernest, the father of Suzanne’s last child. Bradley had been texting both of his brothers lately. Jordan was so smart he was kind of scary. Kenny was growing up.

“And you, Owens,” said Mike, glancing up at her with a gleam in his eye. “Something seems to have agreed with you. You look more lovely than ever. And that is saying quite a lot. I’ve always loved that dress, as you know.” The dress was a simple sleeveless shift that fell just above the knee, a white background with red chilies and green leaves. Her espadrilles were red and her bracelets were miniaturized, brightly enameled pieces of fruit.

Bradley heard the breath catch in her throat. “I loved you, Mike,” she said softly. “I always will.”

“Oh, out with the old and in with the new, Owens! You are doing a good thing. Bradley, have you told Erin?”

“Are you kidding? It’s going to be a while. Right now, it would just infuriate her more and she’d try to run off with Thomas.”

“We can’t have that.”

“I won’t let her take him,” said Bradley, recalling his first sight of the man who’d shot and killed his mother. Such anger he’d felt then. And later, cold revenge. He felt it again. Hear it, Mike—my anger at Erin.

Mike smiled at Bradley, then Owens. “Which leaves time for you two to learn about each other. You have such galaxies to explore within. I’m so proud to have introduced you. You will have very long and very exciting lives.”

Sitting near the handsome latticed Botanical Building, they ate the lunch that Owens had packed. By then the March sun was just strong enough to warm Bradley and he purposefully recalled moments of strong emotion that he hoped Mike would misconstrue. But except for that one interrogative glance early on, Mike seemed convinced of Bradley’s attraction to Owens. Not that he had to create that from scratch. He set a hand on her warm bare arm as she rearranged Thomas’s blanket just so.