Long Lost (Myron Bolitar) Read Free Page B

and of course that’s a horrible thing to think.
    “They—I mean, both sets of grandparents—want us to move out there. So we can be near them. It makes sense when you think about it.”
    I nodded because I didn’t know what else to do.
    “Jack and Erin and, heck, me too, we need that.”
    “Need what?”
    “Family. His parents need to be part of Jack’s life. They can’t handle the cold weather up here anymore. Do you understand that?”
    “Of course I understand.”
    My words sounded funny in my own ears, as if someone else were saying them.
    “My parents found a place they want us to look at,” Ali said. “It’s in the same condo development as theirs.”
    “Condos are nice,” I said, babbling. “Low maintenance. You pay that one monthly fee and that’s it, right?”
    Now she said nothing.
    “So,” I said, “to put it right out there, what does this mean for us?”
    “Do you want to move to Scottsdale?” she asked.
    I hesitated.
    She put a hand on my arm. “Look at me.”
    I did. And then she said something I never saw coming:
    “We’re not forever, Myron. We both know that.”
    A group of kids rushed past us. One bumped into me and actually said, “Excuse me.” A ref blew a whistle. A horn sounded.
    “Mom?”
    Jack, bless his little heart, appeared around the corner. We both snapped out of it and smiled toward him. He did not smile back. Usually, no matter how awful he’d played, Jack came bounding out like a born-again puppy, offering up smiles and high fives. Part of the kid’s charm. But not today.
    “Hey, kiddo,” I said, because I wasn’t sure what to say. Lots of times I hear people in similar situations say, “Good game,” but kids know that it’s a lie and that they’re being patronized and that just makes it worse.
    Jack ran over to me, wrapped his arms around my waist, buried his face in my chest, started to sob. I felt my heart crack anew. I stood there, cupping the back of his head. Ali was watching my face. I didn’t like what I saw.
    “Tough day,” I said. “We all have them. Don’t let it get to you, okay? You did your best, that’s all you can do.” Then I added something the boy would never understand but was absolutely true: “These games aren’t really that important.”
    Ali put her hands on her son’s shoulder. He let go of me, turned to her, buried his face again. We stood there like that for a minute, until he calmed down. Then I clapped my hands and forced up a smile.
    “Anyone up for ice cream?”
    Jack rebounded fast. “Me!”
    “Not today,” Ali said. “We need to pack and get ready.”
    Jack frowned.
    “Maybe another time.”
    I expected Jack to give an “awww, Mom,” but maybe he heard something in her tone too. He tilted his head and then turned back to me without another word. We knuckled up—that was how we said hello and good-bye, the fist-knuckle salute—and Jack started for the door.
    Ali gestured with her eyes for me to look right. I followed the gesture to Coach Bobby. “Don’t you dare fight him,” she said.
    “He challenged me,” I said.
    “The bigger man steps away.”
    “In the movies maybe. In places filled with pixie dust and Easter Bunnies and pretty fairies. But in real life, the man who steps away is considered a big-time wuss.”
    “Then for me, okay? For Jack. Don’t go to that bar tonight. Promise me.”
    “He said if I didn’t show, he’d get satisfaction or something.”
    “He’s a blowhard. Promise me.”
    She made me meet her eyes.
    I hesitated but not for long. “Okay, I won’t show.”
    She turned to walk away. There was no kiss, not even a buss on the cheek.
    “Ali?”
    “What?”
    The corridor suddenly seemed very empty.
    “Are we breaking up?”
    “Do you want to live in Scottsdale?”
    “You want an answer right now?”
    “No. But I already know the answer. So do you.”

3

     
     
     
    I’M not sure how much time passed. Probably a minute or two. Then I headed out to my car. The