She’s already asleep.
? ? ?
Cormac stops by the brownstone the next evening to drop off paperwork from the case. He’s stayed for coffee. He’s sitting at the kitchen island in his coat with a small bag from a bakery on West Broadway, the bakery near his apartment.
Maeve is upstairs giving Nora a bath.
Cormac sets the paperwork on the marble. He looks at me. He says, "Keely is coming to Boston on the seventeenth."
I have not yet heard the name out loud from Cormac. I have heard ‘the American who keeps calling about my brother.’ I have heard ‘the woman from California.’ I have not heard ‘Keely.’
"Keely," I say.
"Keely Walsh. The American I have been picking up the phone for."
"On the seventeenth."
"For four days. To meet the family."
I look at Cormac for a long second.
"That is the brother thing you mentioned in the warehouse."
"It is."
"Padraig knows."
"He knows. He’s in favor."
"Brigid."
"Brigid is in favor. Brigid wrote me a letter when I told her, three pages, in her hand, in which she informs me that an American woman is exactly what is needed in this family."
I do not laugh because I am not a man who laughs at jokes about other people's mothers. I do, however, smile.
"Keely Walsh," I say. "The seventeenth."
"Yes."
"Maeve will want to meet her."
"Maeve will be the first to meet her."
Cormac drinks his coffee. We sit at the kitchen island for a long minute.
Then Cormac says, "Lex. The man you became at the warehouse with Igor Volkov. The man you became at the holding cell with Marcus Andreev. I want you to know my brothers know what you did. Padraig sent me a letter. Padraig says you were the man my father would have been if my father had been Greek instead of Irish."
"Cormac."
"That is the highest thing my brother says about other men, Lex."
I nod once.
Cormac drinks the rest of his coffee. He gets up. He puts on his coat. He claps me on the shoulder once at the door. He goes.
? ? ?
Two nights before the grand jury.
