The Angel Singers Read Free Page A

but Jim is perfect for it and he has the presence. When he sings it, he means it. I don’t think Grant has a clue what the song means. But he badmouths Jim every chance he gets.”
    “I gather you don’t care much for him.”
    “You could say that. He reminds me a lot of my brother.”
    “He looks like him?”
    He shrugged. “Sort of.”
    He didn’t follow up on that, so neither did I. But I thought it was an interesting statement, and was the first specific reference to his family I’d heard him make.
    The conversation, frequently interrupted by Joshua’s insisting I look at and approve the progress of his Lincoln Log project, gradually segued into the general exchange of information that inevitably passes between two people who’ve just met. Eric seemed fascinated by my being a private investigator and having my own office.
    “I’d love to come down and see it sometime,” he said, and I assured him it was hardly worth the trip, but that he was welcome.
    Jonathan had told me Eric worked at the distribution warehouse for the Home ‘n’ Yard hardware store chain and had a small apartment on the East Side. When I did ask about his family, I was surprised to learn that his parents and older brother had been killed in an accident when he was fourteen.
    “It was the Fourth of July,” he said casually, and I detected a note of irony in his voice. I was, of course, curious and expected him to elaborate, but when he didn’t, I didn’t press him. I wasn’t sure whether he had simply been able to accept their deaths and move on or if he didn’t want to or couldn’t deal with it on other than a casual level.
    Jonathan arrived home just as I’d gone into the kitchen to check on dinner and to make Eric and myself another drink. The minute he came in the door, Joshua jumped up from his project, destroying whatever it was he’d been building, and ran for a welcome-home hug.
    As Jonathan moved across the room to join Eric on the couch, followed closely by Joshua, I stepped to the kitchen doorway to ask if Jonathan wanted a Coke.
    “I want one!” Joshua declared, and I was truly puzzled by the undertone of belligerence I detected in his voice. This certainly was not Joshua.
    “I told you we’ll be eating soon, and you’ve already had your drink. We don’t want you to get drunk. Those cherries are pretty potent.”
    Jonathan gave me a puzzled look and I gave him a raised-eyebrow “later” signal.
    But Joshua was not about to give up. Turning to Jonathan, he pleaded, “But I’m thirsty!”
    Jonathan, still puzzled, looked at me again.
    “Okay,” I said, caving in as I far too often did, “but only half a glass, and no cherries.”
    When I brought the drinks into the living room, I noted Joshua had planted himself firmly between Jonathan and Eric, and was sitting as close to Jonathan as he could get.
    He’s jealous! a mind-voice said, pointing out what should have been obvious to me from the minute Eric came in. And I realized for perhaps the first time how insensitive I tended to be when it came to not recognizing how everything that went on in Jonathan’s and my lives also affected Joshua.
    Jonathan’s being gone at least two nights a week was disruptive, and while I did my best to pay attention to Joshua and play with him, it wasn’t quite the same when he was used to having both me and Jonathan at hand. Our social circle was relatively small and made up of couples who had been part of Joshua’s life since he first came to us. Eric was a brand new element, and Joshua quite probably saw Jonathan’s enthusiasm in having a friend all his own as competition. And before I wrote that off as Joshua’s just being a kid I had to stop and think of the many adults I know who tend to react in the same way.
    Eric made several references during the evening to how much he envied Jonathan and me our relationship. From what he said, I gathered he’d never had a long-term relationship and very much wanted one. I knew