Mohawk

mesh with a poker, as if it might be hot already. “Dropped out, he says.”
    “A euphemism, maybe. Put some kindling in first. Those skinny sticks. Jesus, you really haven’t built a fire, have you?”
    “Where would I’ve built a fire in my father’s house?”
    “Enough. Now some of the small logs. Separate’em a little so they can breathe.”
    “I think he’s telling the truth. He’s always been apretty good kid that way. I’ve known him to lie, but never to make himself look good.”
    “So why’d he drop out?”
    “He wasn’t real clear about that. Something about the war.”
    “Wad up some newspaper and push it under the grate.”
    Anne did as she was told. The cool ashes from the last, long-forgotten fire felt soft as baby powder. Dan pitched a book of matches to her. “Now open the flue.”
    “Speak English.”
    “That brass handle right there by your skull. Turn it.”
    The newspaper shriveled quickly and orange flames snaked up into the kindling, which began to glow. “He says he doesn’t think he’ll go if he’s drafted.”
    “If he’d stay in school, he wouldn’t have to.”
    “He doesn’t think that’s right, either. It’s so like him to force an issue.”
    “He’ll go,” Dan said. “When push comes to shove, he’ll go.”
    “You’re wrong.”
    Dan lifted himself out of the chair, onto the sofa. Anne joined him and they touched, rang, their snifters. “I think my father enjoyed the war,” she said. “I don’t think he saw any actual killing, and he hated the violence. But the interruption was good for him. It made him see possibilities. It’s funny, but I think that’s what Randall came home for. Not to explain to me, but because he thought maybe I could tell him what his grandfather would’ve thought.” She paused. “I thought I knew my father pretty well, but I didn’t know what to say.”
    “I’ll tell you, if you like.”
    Anne frowned. “I don’t like. I get Mother’s version all day long. You give me yours and I’ll begin to doubt he ever existed.”
    “Then you’ll be free.”
    “Don’t want to be.”
    “You’d be better off.”
    “Why are you always compelled to play devil’s advocate?”
    “Because you always benefit from reality therapy.”
    Suddenly Anne was furious, as if a spark had leapt from the grate at his command and landed right above her heart. But she didn’t raise her voice. “I’m forty years old. I’ve got a nowhere job. I’ve missed all my chances and I’m not sure I’ll get any more. I’ve got a mother who’s pleased to remind me of all this, in case I ever forget. I’ve got no husband and I’m in love with a cripple who grows fonder of his wife every day and less fond of me.… Is there anything I’ve left out?”
    “No,” he said. “You touched all the major bases.”
    “Enjoy your fucking fire.”
    Dan caught her by the wrist when she bolted up from the couch. His eyes were full. “Don’t,” he said. “Don’t go.”
    “I really should,” she said. “Besides, Di’s likely to be home soon.”
    Dan drained the remainder of his brandy and poured himself another. “Morning’s my guess. The nurses will bring a chair from the lounge and she’ll sleep by the foot of the bed.”
    Anne suddenly felt weak and sat down again. “God,” she said.
    “Try and change her mind.”
    “Randall’s probably wondering where I am.”
    “Wondering in his sleep, is he?”
    “All right. But only because the fire’s nice and the brandy’s good.”
    “That it is.”
    “I certainly wish
I
had money.”
    “Me, too.”
    Anne would’ve assumed he was joking, but for something in his tone. “You
are
joking?”
    “Just between thee and me, no. Di’s been thinking about going back to work. The only problem with that scheme is that the nurse we’d have to hire would cost more than she could make.”
    “You’re broke?”
    “Are we ever.”
    “Can’t you put a mortgage on the house?”
    “No, thanks. Already got one.”
    He smiled and drank off half his brandy. Anne could see he was getting potty. When he was younger, Dan could drink all night, but it didn’t seem to take much any more.
    “Do you mind my asking where it’s gone?”
    “Private hospital rooms.”
    “Medicare—”
    “—pays part. I wouldn’t waste much time worrying about it. Not having money won’t bother me. It would be worth losing my vast empire if only I could see that old crow in a room full of eight or ten other black