Stone Barrington 27 - Doing Hard Time

business back in upper New York State, and I thought I’d see some of the country. I lost my wife a year and a half ago, so there was nothing holding me back.” Teddy had already adopted Tom’s manner of speaking and a little of his accent. It was the natural actor in him.
    “What kind of business?”
    “Machine shop. Tom, do you reckon I could borrow enough tools from you to change my alternator? It’s been erratic, and I’ve got a spare aboard.”
    “Sure you can. I’ll help you.”
    “Thanks.”
    •   •   •
    The two men changed the alternator, then Tom looked at his watch. “I’ve got to run home,” he said. “My wife, Nell, had a little stroke last week, and she’s coming home from the hospital in Albuquerque in an ambulance. Due in half an hour.”
    “You go ahead,” Billy said. “Anything I can help you with while you’re gone?”
    Tom scratched his head. “That’s good of you to offer. I’ve got a Ford over there needs a new water pump. You reckon you could handle that during my absence? I’ll pay you for your time.”
    “I’m glad to help,” Billy said. “Don’t worry about paying me, I’m right well off these days.”
    Tom left, and Teddy changed the water pump, teaching Bobby what he was doing. Twice they paused to sell some gasoline to passing cars and clean the windscreens.
    •   •   •
    It was close to six o’clock before Tom came back. He glanced at the Ford. “Nice job,” he said. “Billy, it’s too late in the day to start off somewhere. Why don’t you come stay with us tonight? My daughter, Bobby’s mother, is fixing supper, and we’ve got a big old house.”
    “I’d like to have dinner, Tom, but if you don’t mind, I’ll get a room over at the motel.” Before dinner was over, he had offered to stay on for a week or two, until Tom felt comfortable about coming back to work full-time.
    •   •   •
    After dinner he accepted a drink, then excused himself and drove back to the motel. As he walked through the diner door, Sally was ringing up the check of her last customer of the day.
    “It’s Billy, right?”
    “That’s right,” Teddy said, sliding into a booth.
    “Can I get you something?”
    “I’ll take a cup of coffee if you’ll have a drink with me,” he said, placing half a bottle of bourbon on the table before him.
    “I’ll get us some ice,” Sally said. She did that, then slid into the booth with him and watched as he poured.
    “I could also use a nice room for a week or two,” Teddy said, lifting his glass to her.
    Sally clinked glasses and took a deep pull on her whiskey. “I reckon I can find you a place to sleep,” she said.
    It was as easy as that: he had a job, a bed, and someone to share the latter with. Once again, Teddy Fay had effectively vanished in a puff of smoke.

Stone Barrington sat in the fourth row of the University Theater for the winter graduation ceremony of the Yale School of Drama. On one side of him sat Dino and Vivian Bacchetti; on the other side, as far as possible from Viv, sat Mary Ann Bianci Bacchetti, Dino’s former wife and the mother of his son, Ben.
    Peter Barrington and Benito Bacchetti, the graduating sons, stood on either side of Hattie Patrick, Peter’s girlfriend, and, as their names were called, each stepped forward to accept their diplomas from the dean of the School of Drama.
    There followed a slightly overlong address to the graduates by a Famous Broadway Director, himself an alumnus, then the ceremony was ended, and everyone involved made for the exits.
    As the crowd shuffled toward the doors, Stone saw a familiar face just before it disappeared through the exit. He couldn’t place it, but the face had somehow induced a small trickle of anxiety in his guts. Troubled by the feeling, he dismissed it, filed away the face in his mind, and resolved to pull it up later, when he was not so occupied with the matters at hand.
    •   •   •
    Half an hour later, Stone, Dino, and Viv, but not Mary Ann, who could not tolerate sharing any social occasion, even this one, with her husband’s new wife, had said goodbye to her son and vanished. Nobody said “good riddance,” but the words were written on the faces of both Dino and Viv, and Ben looked decidedly relieved.
    Hattie sat at the concert grand Steinway, playing Chopin waltzes for background music, as Peter’s entire graduation class, an even dozen, and their parents and friends sipped champagne, a Veuve