Lousiana Hotshot

taste this bread pudding? Nectar of the gods.”
    She felt as if he’d hit her. “What are you talking about?”
    “It’s a late night, and you’ve had a hell of a day. Besides, you’re kind of green around the gills— have been ever since I mentioned your father.”
    “Oh, come on, Eddie, I’m just tired.”
    “My point, Ms. Wallis, my point. Take the morning off and organize your notes. You can email ‘em and come in after lunch.”
    That was better. At least she wasn’t fired. And a morning off would suit her fine. She might still be able to see Darryl tonight— in which case she’d be up late. “Okay, Eddie, sure. But, as you would say, can I ask you somethin’?”
    “Ask me anything. I might not answer, is all.”
    “Are you ever going to call me Talba, or not?”
    He didn’t even hesitate. “Well, Ms. Wallis, I expect I will every now and then. If I’m real mad at you.”
    “That certainly bodes well.”
    “I’m ‘on tell ya somethin’— I’m probably gon’ say ya name pretty often.”

Chapter 15
    His wife, having heard the car, was standing in the door when he came in, wearing a robe that zipped up the front, not meant to be sexy at all. But it couldn’t hide who she was. She was skinny, always had been, but she had a good chest on her, and that beautiful heart-shaped face. She’d been a platinum blonde the whole time he’d known her, though they had two dark-haired children. She had hair that pouffed and bounced, hair that got a lot of attention. Even now, it looked as if she’d spent a while puffing it up nice.
    “He called here, Eddie. I know what ya did.”
    “Anthony? Anthony called here?”
    “I know what ya did, Eddie.” She was like a sentry waiting for the countersign.
    He didn’t know what it was. He didn’t think there was anything in the world he could say to entitle himself to admittance. “I was a fool, Audrey. I could kill myself.”
    “Ya shouldn’t have put us through it, Eddie.” She moved aside and he entered, but her voice was like a metal blade left out in the cold.
    “Audrey, I been drinkin’…”
    “Yeah. You been drinkin’. Ya couldn’t face it. Ya couldn’t face it now and ya couldn’t face it then and ya body nearly couldn’t take it, all that stress ya put on yaself. I was wrong about those headaches, wasn’t I? It wasn’t the reason I thought— it wasn’t because ya missed Anthony. It was because ya told all those lies.”
    He didn’t know about the headaches, but it occurred to him his heart was going to be the next to go, and pretty soon, if this kept up. He felt as if he were splitting apart.
    He could have argued with her. He could have ignored her. He could have walked past her to bed and dropped into unconsciousness.
    Instead, he held out his arms and said the thing on his mind: “Audrey. Ya think you can ever forgive me?”
    To his surprise, she moved a step back, something she’d never done in the history of their marriage. She said, “I can forgive ya. I just don’t know how long it’s gonna take.” Her voice chilled him.
    “Audrey, I love ya.” Again, it was all that came to mind.
    “Ya better sleep in the guest room.” She turned and left him there, staring after her like an idiot.
    What he had done was so monstrous that he had every idea she was right— it probably was what was giving him the headaches. Probably it was some feeble attempt of his brain to purge itself of the information it held— to explode and destroy it forever.
    Sometimes in dreams, Eddie could hear his own smarmy voice saying the things he had said, and he would wake up clammy, unbelieving. He had to believe he hadn’t said them. Because if he had said them, there was no hope for him as a husband and a father and a human being. Therefore, he couldn’t have said them.
    He’d almost convinced himself of it. Could a thing like that give you headaches? he wondered.
    “Your mother doesn’t ever want to see you again as long as she lives. After ya left, she cried for a week and couldn’t eat, and then she was sick in the hospital. She’s so ashamed of ya she won’t even let me say ya name. You ever call here again and I’ll track ya down and get ya knees broken for ya.”
    It was worse, what he told Audrey— that he’d fought with his son because he found him with a young cousin— “hurting” her, Eddie said, refusing to say more so she’d draw her own conclusions.
    For Angie he had only had to make up a fight in which