The Night Listener : A Novel

Back in the living room, we talked about other things: the bitter weather, that funky little coffee shop, the loyal creature dozing at Donna’s feet. We both seemed to sense that we needed a break, a peaceful coming-down before we parted. And I wanted to show her we still had reason to communicate beyond the son we had lost.
    “How are things with you and Jess?” she asked.
    A sigh escaped from me like a death rattle. “Who knows? He had somebody with him when I called this afternoon.” Her brow creased sympathetically.
    “It was probably just a friend, but…I have no way of knowing anymore. And that’s the problem, I guess. For both of us.”
    “Why?”
    “Well…he doesn’t want to have to explain himself, and…I can’t stand not knowing.”
    “Would it change the way you feel about him if you did know?” I shook my head—which was lost on her, of course.
    “Was that a yes or a no?”
    “Sorry. No, it wouldn’t. I’ll always love him. It’s a chronic condition.”
    “Does he feel that way about you?”
    That one took me a little longer. “I think he does, yes. I’m sure he does.”
    “Then maybe it’s only his needs that have changed. Not his love.
    Couldn’t you look at it that way?”
    “I try to, but I’m just…” I couldn’t finish, so she did it for me.
    “You’re just the kind of guy who needs proof.”
    “Well…yeah.”
    “You need that body in the bed next to you. That child in your arms.”
    I shrugged. “Doesn’t everybody?”
    “Sure,” she said, “until they grow up.” I was offended until I saw the sweetness of her expression.
    “That’s what it is, you know, growing up. When you’ve finally got this programmed”—she pressed her palm to her heart—”to carry everyone who’s ever loved you. When the bliss becomes portable.”
    When I didn’t reply, she continued:
    “Jess has given you a gift, Gabriel: the chance to feel love without boundaries. Everything you’ve ever built with him is still in place.
    All you have to do is believe and let go, and you’ll have all the proof you need. Maybe not in the way you planned, but it’ll be there.” She leaned down to scratch Janus under his chin, then looked up at me with a wry smile. “No charge for that,” she said.
     
    TWENTY-FIVE

    GIVING UP THE GHOST

    HALF AN HOUR LATER, back at the motel, I phoned home and checked the messages on my machine. There, amid the usual procession of friends and strangers, I found the voice of Ashe Findlay, asking me to call him, please, as soon as possible, even if it meant calling him at home. It was clear from his somber tone that he had just heard about Pete from Donna. My heart went out to him, knowing we were finally in agreement about this child.
    Then came a click on the line. I felt sure it was Jess, cutting in out of sheer curiosity. But the voice that said hello was female.
    “Anna?”
    “Oh, hi, Gabriel.”
    “It’s late. What are you doing there?”
    “Just working on the books. How’s Wisconsin?”
    “Cold.”
    “Did you meet him?”
    I decided it was time to unload. “I met her,” I said. “And we had a good talk. He died last week, Anna.”
    “Who?”
    “Pete.”
    “Oh…really?” Her voice rose markedly on the second word.
    “His lungs finally gave out on him.”
    “Oh.”
    “She cut off the phone because she couldn’t handle telling people.
    And there were plenty to tell, apparently.”
    “Relatives, you mean?”
    “No. Just friends. He had more than I realized.”
    “Like who?”
    “Well, Stephen King, for one. And Tom Clancy. And Magic Johnson.”
    “You’re kidding.”
    “No.”
    “Did he call them Dad, too?”
    Her bluntness knocked me back, though I knew she hadn’t meant to be cruel.
    “Sorry,” said Anna. “I just wondered…”
    “I know. It’s okay.”
    “Are you gonna stay for the funeral?”
    “There isn’t one. He was cremated.”
    There was a long pause. I knew what she was thinking, but I had no intention of going down that road. “She’s blind, by the way.”
    “Who?”
    “Donna.”
    “You mean, blind blind?”
    “Yes.”
    “Then…how did she…take care of him and all?”
    “That doesn’t make her helpless, Anna.”
    “But…somebody had to drive him places.”
    “Yes. A friend. Across the street.”
    “Did you meet him?”
    “Her. No, I didn’t.”
    Another pregnant silence, and then: “Are you okay, Gabriel?”
    “Yeah. More or less.”
    “Are you sad?”
    “A little. And a