Free West Seattle Blues by Chris Nickson Page A

expected. “Are you going to do it?”
    I flopped down next to him and let out a long sigh as I leaned against him, hearing the steady beat of his heart.
    “He just wants to find out about his son.”
    “I know.”
    “It’s not my family, and I’m better off not knowing about it.”
    “But?”
    “Why would there be a but in there?”
    “I can see it on your face. You don’t want to do it but you’re torn.”
    I sat up quickly. “I thought you’d be glad I didn’t want to be involved.”
    “I am.”
    “Then quit trying to push me toward it.” I could feel my temper flaring.
    He held up his hands in surrender. “I’m not. Really.”
    “It sounds like it.”
    “It’s just…” He sighed, trying to find the words. “The last few days, I can tell you’ve been unhappy. I thought it was with me.”
    “No.”
    “I figured that out after a while. But it’s because you don’t have anything to keep you busy.”
    I opened my mouth to say that Ian kept me busy. But I stayed quiet. He was right.
    “I know you don’t want to risk anything. I don’t want you to. All I’m saying is that if you do decide you want to do it, I’ll be behind you. And it seems to me like there’s a tiny little part of you that’s interested.
    “Maybe,” I admitted. I’d thought about it on the way home, as Carson serenaded me through the speakers. The writer in me wanted to know what had happened. Or maybe it was a desire to let him put it behind him and start the second chapter in his career. And, whether I liked it or not, I really was involved.
    “Think about it. The only thing I’ll ask is that you don’t put yourself in any danger.”
    “I never would.” I felt the shadow of the past slide over me. “Not again.”
    “Then that’s good. But if you decide you want to do a bit more, it’s okay.” He paused for a heartbeat. “It’ll still cost you the five bucks, though.”
    I laughed. “Figures. What if I welch?”
    “I’ll take it out in trade.” He winked. “Seriously, I can take a day or two off work,” Dustin offered. “There’s not much happening, anyway, at least until the Montana trip next week.”
    I’d forgotten that was coming up. Four times a year he had to go into Idaho and Montana to catch up with his accounts there. He scheduled the trips from spring through fall, avoiding the snow and bad roads over the passes. For me it meant a few days of just me and Ian, with no one else to pick up the strain. I could cope, but the days and nights would feel very long.
    “You’re sure there’ll be no problem taking time off?”
    “Positive. I’ve got plenty coming. The boss won’t mind. He’d rather I took the time owing than have to pay me, anyway. And I might not be there much longer.”
    “The guy from Elliott Bay called?”
    “Uh-huh. He wanted to check I was still interested before he brought it up with the rest of the board. Itold him I was.”
    “Good.”
    “Are you going to do this for Carson?” he asked me.
    “No, I’m not going to do it,” I told him. “I can’t.”
    “How you doing?”
    “A hell of a lot better for sleeping in my own bed,” Carson answered on the other end of the line. His voice sounded thick. “And I’m kind of glad of those painkillers.” I heard a rough chuckle. “Guess I won’t be winning any medals for the sprint just yet, though.”
    If he could laugh about it, then he was doing fine, so I didn’t need to worry. It was time to get to business.
    “Tell me something, Carson. Did you ever talk to your son’s wife at all?”
    “Well, just the one time when my grandson took me over,” he admitted thoughtfully. “But we didn’t talk about his daddy. I couldn’t see the point. They’d been divorced for years. Jim told me that. He hardly ever saw his father.”
    “But she still knew him. She married him, and then she divorced him for a reason.” I’d thought about it the evening before.
    “I guess.” He sounded doubtful.
    “Look, if you