his pocket, came up with a flask of brandy. He laced the coffee and then lighted and passed her a cigarette.
âFull?â
âUhm.â She wriggled around so that she could prop her back against his knee. She thought idly that despite his bumbling Tommy was a good man to lean on, so big and strong. A solid man in some ways. She twisted her head and looked up into his face. âAre you a solid man, Tommy?â
âThe Rock of Gib, thatâs me.â He smiled down at her, reached out and tucked back a strand of blond hair that had slipped over one eye. âIâm always being told that Iâm not solid. But what the hell? I satisfy me and I have only me to satisfy.â
She rubbed her back against his leg. âI like you the way you are. Donât get any more solid.â
He said seriously, âMaybe youâd like me betterâor in a different wayâif I werenât a vacuum?â
She felt the faint discomfort rise again and turned away, sipping at her coffee. He said, âSorry, Lenny. I shouldnât try to hunt on old pal Leonâs preserves.â
âYou werenât, Tommy.â The thought of it made Lenny feel sorry for herself. Because it was true. Leon no longer had any preserve. And she felt a little sorry for Tommy, too. He had always been so patient and uncomplaining, and she had treated him likeâwell, like a brother.
She was surprised to find that not only was she in a mood of pity, but that she was pleasantly numb. Tommyâs innocuous cocktails had pulled a dirty trick on her, she decided.
She said, âTommy, Iâm a little tight.â
âBrandy kills rum,â he said with the faintest trace of thickness in his speech. âSo.â He added more brandy to her coffee. She took it down in two swallows. âSee?â
âBetter,â she decided gravely. He took her cup away and set it beside his own. He did something with his legs so that suddenly she no longer had her side to him but was facing him.
âWhat you said about Leon, Lennyâhow can I take that?â
Poor Tommy, always hoping. She said, âYouâre sweet, Tommy,â and leaned toward him to brush her lips lightly over his chin. âTake it the way you want to.â There, that should make him feel better.
He had one hand half-supporting her neck, his heavy fingers running through the hair at the back of her head. âIâd like to. Butâwhatâs the trouble?â
âNo trouble. Times change.â
He smiled and shook his head. The smile was only on his lips. She had not seen his eyes so serious in a long while. âI know you too well, Lenny. Is Leon bothering you? I can make him stop, you know.â As if unable to maintain a serious mood, he grinned. âSir T. Price, knight, charging down on the foe â¦â
âStop it, Tommy. You donât have to make me laugh.â
âI didnât bring you here to make you cry. And I am serious. If I can help â¦â
If he could help? If only he could. Feeling as she did, she did need help, needed someone to turn to. And who was there? Not Barr, nor Portiaâthere was no one except Tommy. And Tommy was such a humbler.
Or was he? Watching him now, she noticed things about him that she had never noticed beforeâthe steady seriousness in his pale blue eyes, the set of his jaw â¦
She was drunker than she had thought, or she never would have done it. Later, she told herself that, but she wasnât really sure. She heard herself say, âTommy, you can help, maybe.â
âAnything, Lenny love.â
âIâm serious. IâI want your advice, Tommy. Promise me you wonât try to do anythingâbe heroic or foolish. Just give me your advice.â
âAnything. And I am being serious.â
There was no humor in the way he looked down at her. She swallowed. She had started now and she did need someone she could confide in. Tommy
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