Public Secrets

Brian McAvoy. Hey, Riko, this here’s Brian McAvoy. Devastation.”
“No shit?”
Automatically Brian’s lips curved into a charming smile. “Nice to meet you.”
“This is great, just great,” Buddy went on. “My wife’s never going to believe it. We had our first date at your concert here in ’75. Can I get your autograph?”
Sure.
“Jesus, she’s never going to believe this.” While he searched in his pockets for a snatch of paper, Emma picked up a notepad and handed it to her father.
“What’s your wife’s name?” Brian asked Buddy.
“It’s Doreen. Man, she’s going to drop dead.”
“I hope not.” Still smiling, Brian handed over the autograph.
It took another ten minutes, and an autograph for Riko, before they were alone again. Taking her cue, Marianne disappeared up the curving wrought-iron stairs.
“Got a beer?” Brian asked.
“No. Just some soft drinks.”
With a restless move of his shoulders, Brian wandered to the front windows. She was so exposed here. Couldn’t she see it? The big windows, the city itself. The fact that he’d bought the first-floor unit and installed Sweeny and another man inside didn’t seem to matter now that he was here to gauge the situation himself. She was vulnerable. Every time she walked out on the street.
“I was hoping you’d choose something uptown, with security.
“Like the Dakota?” she said, then cursed herself. “I’m sorry, Da. I know Lennon was a friend.”
“Yes, he was.” He turned back. “What happened to him should make you understand how I feel. He was shot down on the street—not for robbery, not for passion. Just because of who and what he was. You’re mine, Emma. That makes you every bit as vulnerable.”
“What about you?” she countered. “Every time you step out onstage, you’re exposed. It only takes one sick person among the thousands with the price of a ticket. Do you think that never goes through my mind?”

He shook his head. “No, I didn’t think it went through your mind. You never said.”
“Would it have made a difference?”
He was silent as he sat on the windowsill and took out a cigarette. “No. You can’t stop being what you are, Emma, even if you’d like to. But I’ve lost one child.” He struck a match, watched it flare. “I couldn’t survive losing another.”
“I don’t want to talk about Darren.” The old grief welled up, thickening her voice.
“We’re talking about you.”
“All right then. I can’t live for you anymore, or I’ll hate you. I gave you Saint Catherine’s, Da, and a year at a college I detested. I have to start living for myself. That’s what I’m doing here.”
He drew in smoke and wished for a drink. “I almost think I’d rather you hated me. You’ve all I’ve got.”
“That’s not true.” She went to him then. Resentments and disillusionments were crowded aside by love. “I’ve never been all, and I never will be.” She took his hand as she sat beside him. He was beautiful to look at. Even without a daughter’s prejudiced eye. The years, the strains, the life, hadn’t scarred him. Not on the outside. Perhaps he was a bit too thin, but time hadn’t lined his poetic face or grayed his pale blond hair. What magic was it, she wondered, that had caused her to grow up while he hadn’t grown older? She kept her hand over his and chose her words carefully.
“But the trouble is, for most of my life, you’re all I’ve had.” Her fingers tightened on his. “And just about all I’ve needed. I need more now, Da. All I want is a chance to find it.”
He glanced around the room. “Here?”
“To start.”
It was impossible to argue with something he understood so perfectly. “Let me put in a security system.”
“Da—”
“Emma,” he interrupted, squeezing her hand. “I need my sleep.”
She laughed a little and relaxed. “All right. I’ll look at it as a housewarming present.” She kissed him. “Want to stay for dinner?

He took another look around. It reminded him of his first place, though that had only been a fraction of this space. Still it brought back the memories, lugging in old furniture, slopping paint on stained walls. Making love with Bev on the floor.
“No.” Suddenly he didn’t want to be there, to feel the youth and the hope and the innocence. “Why don’t I take you and Marianne out?”
Marianne leaned dangerously over the stair rail. “Where?”
Brian grinned up at her. “Your choice.”

O NCE HE WAS forced to accept