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not be the highlight of a sexual
encounter.
    No shoe company was listed amongst his
creditors. Walt didn’t have a computer, so did he buy the footwear
over the phone or via mail order? I glanced over the miniature
checks printed at the bottom of his statement, but most of them
were either for his regular bills or the local grocery chain.
    Richard hadn’t snagged a savings account
statement or anything from a brokerage firm. How long had it been
since Walt’s settlement? If he’d been a union man it could’ve been
hefty—minus the attorney’s fee, of course. Even so, where had the
money gone?
    It was almost seven-thirty and I was about
to pour my third cup when I heard footsteps in the hallway. Seconds
later Brenda entered the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge.
“Someone’s got a date,” she teased in a singsong cadence. She took
out a pound of bacon and the egg carton, setting them on the
counter.
    “News travels fast.” I doctored my cup and
sat back down at the table, collected the papers and returned them
to their Kraft envelopes.
    Brenda retrieved a skillet from a cupboard,
set it on the stove and lay the bacon strips across its bottom. She
always made too much food, expecting me to tuck in when I just
didn’t have the appetite. When I moved across the driveway, it was
possible cold cereal or coffee alone would fill the bill of fare
twenty-four/seven.
    I pulled out the coffeemaker’s basket,
dumping the grounds in the wastebasket before starting a new batch.
“You and Maggie tracking each other’s hourly movements these
days?”
    “She is my best friend here in Buffalo.
Naturally she keeps me informed on what’s going on in her
life.”
    A little too well informed.
    Richard entered the kitchen from the
hallway. “So, you’re taking a trip to Holiday Valley tomorrow.”
    Once upon a time nobody knew or cared
when I came and went or what I did. Next I expected a headline in
the Buffalo News .
    Richard sat down at the table, his
expression wistful. “I had some good times skiing there, back in
the day.”
    I remembered those days, too. Not for
skiing. I’d been stuck here in the house with the elder Alperts,
one of who despised me, while Richard would escape on his
all-too-rare days off from the hospital.
    Brenda turned the bacon. “Get the bread and
the toaster out, will you, Jeffy.”
    “So, you’re taking Maggie Brennan,” Richard
said.
    I busied myself at the counter. “Uh, yeah.”
I glanced back at Richard, whose eyes had widened, though his face
remained immobile.
    “What’s on tap for today? You working at the
bar or on your case?’
    Brenda cringed. “Don’t call it a case.”
    I took out plates from the cupboard. “She’s
right. But maybe a little of both.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “What are you guys doing? Making more
wedding plans?”
    “It’s two weeks away, and as far as I know
all I have to do is show up at City Hall in a suit.”
    “You’d better be prepared for more than just
that,” Brenda said.
    Richard ignored her. It wasn’t like they
were planning a splashy affair. Just the two of them with me and
Maggie as witnesses, then lunch at a swank restaurant before they
caught a plane for Paris.
    “Got enough money for your date?” Richard
asked me.
    My stomach tightened. “It’s not a date. And
yeah, I’ve got money.” Of course I did. He’d peeled off a couple of
twenties for me a few days before. I’d be taking the day trip with
his gas in the car he bought me. I didn’t feel good about any of
that, but being practically destitute engenders humility. I
intended to pay him back for everything now that I was working, but
as the days passed, and the debt I owed him increased, I found it
harder and harder to look him in the eye.
    “I’m sure Richard would love to hang out
with you today, Jeffy, but we’ve already planned our day.” Hands on
hips, Brenda aimed her pointed stare at Richard. “Or are you trying
to get out of marrying me?”
    Richard leaned back