Page 23 of Playing By Ear

“It’s a headache.” Belinda set down her plate, then brushed her palms together. “Sometimes they’re sudden like this.” She went to their father and laid a gentle but firm hand on his back. “You remember where you put your medication?”

Martin nodded, then opened his eyes a slit, enough to make his way to his desk. Belinda tracked close behind, arms out as though she could catch him if he fell.

Jamie knelt to collect the remnants of his sandwich. A translucent slice of prosciutto was stuck to the hardwood floor. It came up with a tiny squelch.

“We’ll leave now so you can rest before your meeting,” Belinda said as she opened the pill bottle. “Take a couple of days to come to grips with the idea of Jamie’s return. This’ll be a good thing, if you both try your best to get on.”

“Sure,” Jamie said as he stood. He would’ve agreed to floss with razor wire just to get the fuck out of there. “Dad, I’ll see you soon?”

His father sighed as he took the pills from Belinda. “Looks like neither of us got much choice.”

She offered Martin a brisk pat on the shoulder. “There’s always a choice, for those who are men enough to make it.”

The men gave identical guffaws of resentment. “You’ve got your da’s laugh,” Auntie Rosemary had often told Jamie. In the last decade he’d tried to change it, but one couldn’t alter something so spontaneous and inborn.

Not that it mattered, because they weren’t laughing now.

“That could’ve gone better,” Belinda said as they reached her car. She pulled a packet of cigarettes from the pocket of her deep-red pea coat.

“Could’ve gone worse.” Jamie looked around to make sure no one could hear. There were still no houses along the street behind Martin’s house, only a wide-open footpath leading to the heart of the wee park there. “Not everyone’s lucky enough to leave that house alive.”

“Wheesht!” She smacked his arm.

“So what do we now?”

His sister lit her cigarette with hands that looked steadier than Jamie’s felt. “You try again, alone.” Belinda shut her lighter with a metallic snap, as if to emphasize the final word. “He’ll be nicer if I’m not there pushing him.”

Jamie leaned against the boot to avoid getting into a smoke-filled car. “After that interaction, you still think Dad and I can be in the same room?”

She let out a smoky sigh, squeezing her eyes shut. “Just one day, Jamie. Spend one day with him, and if either of you wants to tap out, I’ll come up with another plan. Can we agree that much?”

An escape hatch. Maybe that was all Jamie needed. “What if he tries to draw me into, you know, business things?”

“He’ll never. He’s got me for that. I’ve got big plans in the works.” She pulled back her hair with her free hand as the wind tried to blow it across her face. “My life’s been one long management training program, at least since Ritchie…you know.”

Jamie did know. Once again he felt that old familiar dead weight in his gut, like his body could cave in from the gravity of memory.

But there was no sense dwelling on it. He’d already shed too many tears over too many years.

“How have Dad’s people handled you being the heir apparent?”

“You mean how do they like reporting to a woman?” Her eyes went cold and narrow. “There are ways to win the respect of men like that.”

He put up a hand between them. “Say no more.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll stay blissfully ignorant. We’ve each got our own roles to play, you and me.” She gave her trademark smirk. “You’ll be the doting daughter, and I’ll be the dutiful son.”

“This isn’t a joke, Bel. He’s a dangerous man, with dangerous men working for him—and against him.”

“I wouldn’t have brought you back unless I thought it safe.” She took his hand, gently this time. “I’ve always protected you, wee brother, and I’ll not stop now.”

“It’s not just about me. It’s this whole family business. I cannae be associated with something that hurts people.”

“I’m not proud of some parts of it,” she said, “but we provide certain necessary services. Without us, our customers would get what they need elsewhere, from people who don’t understand our community the way we do, who don’t look after it the way we do.”

That age-old rationalization. The MacKrays were simply satisfying a market. If they didn’t do it, someone far worse would step in to meet demand.

The fact all this was true didn’t make it right.