“I’ll see.” He was gently evasive, but Kezia was curious.

“How old is she?”

“Twenty-one, twenty-two. Something like that.”

“I hate her already.”

“You should worry.” He looked up at the porcelain skin framed by the white fur hat. Her eyes stood out like sapphires.

“Yeah, But I’m staring at thirty. That’s a far cry from twenty-two.”

“And you’re a lot better off.” She thought about it for a moment and nodded. Twenty-two hadn’t been very much fun. It had started to be, though, after she began writing. Before that, it was the shits. Unsure of where she was going, what she was doing, and who she wanted to be, while having to present an outward appearance of unshakable certainty and poise.

“You should have known me ten years ago, Alejandro. You would have laughed.”

“You think I was better off at that age?”

“Probably. You were freer.”

“Maybe, but still not very cool. Hell, ten years ago I wore a crew cut cemented into place with ‘greasy kid stuff.’ Talk about funny! And I’ll bet you weren’t wearing a crew cut.”

“No. A pageboy. And pearls. I was adorable. The hottest thing on the market. Come and get it, ladies and gentlemen, one untouched, unused, near-perfect heiress. She walks, she talks, she sings, she dances. Wind her up and she plays ‘God Bless America’ on the harp.”

“You played the harp?”

“No, dummy. But I did everything else. I was absolutely ‘mahvelouss,’ but not very happy.”

“So now you’re happy. That’s a lot to be grateful for.”

“I am.” Her thoughts flew back to Lucas … and the hearing. Alejandro watched the transitions in her eyes, and moved quickly to bring her back to the easy chatter of the last hour.

“How come you don’t play the harp? Aren’t heiresses supposed to?” He was all innocence.

“No, that’s angels. They’re the ones who play the harp.”

“You mean they’re not the same thing?”

She threw back her head and laughed at the thought. “No, darling. They are most emphatically not the same thing. I do play the piano, though. That’s a prerequisite for your heiress wings. A few play the violin, but most of us tackle the piano at an early age, and give it up by the time we’re twelve. Chopin.”

“I still kind of wish you could play the harp.”

“Up your ass, Mr. Vidal.” She grinned and he feigned shock.

“Kezia! And you’re an heiress? How shocking! Up my … what?”

“You heard me, mister. Now come on, let’s go home. Lucas will worry.” They slipped into their coats, he left the tip on the table, and they walked out into the cold air, arm in arm. The afternoon had been well spent. She felt restored.

When they got home, Luke was waiting in the living room, bourbon in hand and with a smile on his face.

“Well, what have you two been up to?” He liked to see them together, but Kezia noticed something pinched about his eyes. Jealousy?

“We went out for a cup of hot chocolate.”

“A likely story. But I’ll forgive you both. This time.”

“That’s big of you, darling.” Kezia walked to his side and bent to kiss him.

He pulled a cigar out of his pocket and winked at Alejandro, as he slid his arm around her waist. “Why don’t you get our friend a beer?”

“Probably because he’d throw up after all the hot chocolate he drank … mit schlag!” She grinned over at Alejandro.

“What’s that?” Luke’s voice sounded unusually loud. As though he was terribly nervous.

“Whipped cream.”

“Puke. Nah, get him a beer.”

“Lucas …” She wondered suddenly if he had something to say to Alejandro, he looked so odd—and a little bit crocked.

“Go on.”

“Kezia looked at him strangely and then turned to Alejandro. “You want a beer?”

Their friend threw up both hands and shrugged. “No, but with a dude that size, who argues?” All three of them laughed and Kezia vanished into the kitchen.

She called back over her shoulder as she flicked on the light. “I’ll make you coffee. I can’t stand the idea of beer after all that good chocolate.”

“Right on.” Alejandro sounded distracted as he answered and Kezia wondered what was afoot. Lucas had the look of a small boy. Or the look of a man with a secret. She grinned to herself, wondering if it was something to do with her. Maybe a present, something silly, an outing, a dinner. Luke was like that. She wouldn’t allow herself to wonder if it was something to do with the hearing. It couldn’t be. He looked much too pleased with himself, and a little bit punchy.

She went back to the living room a few moments later with the coffee. Two cups. Luke looked as if he could use one.

“Look at that, man, she wants to sober us up.” Luke’s tone was jovial, but Alejandro didn’t look as if he needed sobering. He looked tense and unhappy, as though something drastic had happened in the moments she was out of the room. Kezia looked at his face, then at Luke’s, and then she put down the two cups and sat down on the couch.

“Okay, sweetheart, game’s over. What’s up?” Her voice was light and nervous and brittle, and her hands had begun to tremble. It was something to do with the hearing. It wasn’t anything fun after all. Now she could tell. “What’s wrong?”

“Why the hell should something be wrong?”

“For one thing,” she cast a glance away from him, and apologetically at their friend, “if you’ll forgive me,” and then she turned back to Luke, “because you’re drunk, Lucas. How come?”

“I am not.”

“You are. And you look scared. Or pissed. Or something. And I want to know what the hell’s happening. You told Al, now tell me.”

“What makes you think I told Al anything?” Now he looked visibly nervous, and Kezia was beginning to look angry.

“Look, dammit! Don’t play games with me. I’m having just as tough a time coping with all this crazy bullshit as you are. Now tell me! What’s wrong?”

“Oh, for chrissake. Will you listen to that, Al?” He looked around at them both with a plastic smile on his face, and crossed one leg over the other and then back again, while Alejandro looked very upset.

Kezia looked from Lucas to him. “Okay, Alejandro, will you tell me what’s going on?” Her voice was rising to an uncomfortable level, nearing hysteria. But Lucas broke in with a look of impatience, and pushed himself forcefully out of his chair, growing instantly pale as he stood.

“Just keep it together, Mama. And I’ll tell you myself.” But as he turned to face her the room swam, and he sank almost to his knees. Alejandro rushed to his side and took the half-empty glass from his hand. Most of the bourbon had sloshed into the carpet, and Luke’s face was now frighteningly pale.

“Take it easy, brother.” He supported him with one arm, as Kezia rushed to his side.

“Lucas!” Her eyes were frantic as Luke sat down heavily on the floor next to her, and rested his head on his knees. He was drunk and in shock. But slowly he turned his face toward her with a gentle expression.

“Mama, it’s no big deal. Someone tried to shoot me today. They missed by an inch.” He closed his eyes on the last words, as though afraid of her eyes.

“Someone what?” She held his face with both her hands and slowly he looked up at her again. It had not yet registered in her face.

“Someone tried to kill me, I guess, Kezia. Or scare the piss out of me. Either way, but everything’s cool. I’m just a little punchy, that’s all.”

She thought instantly of Morrissey now, and knew Lucas had too. “My God … Lucas … who did it?” She was sitting next to him, trembling, and her stomach felt as though it were riding a wave.

“I don’t know who. Hard to tell.” He shrugged and suddenly looked very tired.

“Come on, man, let’s get you to bed.” Alejandro helped him slowly to his feet, and he wasn’t sure if he should be supporting Lucas or Kezia. She looked almost worse. “Can you make it, Luke?”

“Are you kidding? I’m not hurt, man. I’m gassed.” He chuckled proudly for a moment, as he walked into the bedroom. Alejandro shook his head with a worried frown on his face, as Kezia settled Luke against the pillows. “For chrissake, Kezia, I’m not dying. Don’t overdo it. And get me another drink, will you?”

“Should you?”

He laughed at the question and crossed both eyes with a grin. “Oh Mama, should I!” The smile she returned to him was her first in ten minutes, but she could feel her knees shaking as she sank onto the edge of the bed.

“My God, Lucas, how did it happen?”

“I don’t know. I went up to talk to some guys in Spanish Harlem today, and we were walking down the street after the meeting and whap, someone almost winged me. The motherfucker must have been aiming for my heart, but he took lousy aim.”

Kezia sat staring at him in shocked disbelief. It could have been like Morrissey. He could have been dead. There were chills on her spine as she thought of it.

“Anyone else knew about the meeting?” Alejandro looked frightened as he continued to stand there and look at his friend.

“A few people.”

“How few?”

“Not few enough.”

“Oh God, Lucas … who did it?” Suddenly Kezia’s head was bowed and she was sobbing as she sat there. Luke leaned forward and circled her with his right arm, pulling her toward him.

“Come on, baby, take it easy. It could have been anyone. Just some crazy kid out for a laugh. Or maybe someone who knew me. Could have been some heavyweight right-winger up there who doesn’t dig prison reform. Could have been some pissed off left-winger who doesn’t think I’m enough a ‘brother.’ What the hell difference does it make? They tried. They didn’t get me. I’m okay. You’re okay. I love you. So … no big deal, please. Okay?” He sank back on the pillows then with a dazzling smile. But neither Kezia nor Alejandro was swayed by the bravado.

“I’ll get you another drink.” Alejandro left the room, and had a drink of his own in the kitchen. Shit. It was coming to that now. And with Kezia in the picture. Terrific. He heaved a long sigh as he walked back to the bedroom with a tall glass of straight bourbon for Luke. Kezia was crying again when he walked in, but this time softly. The two men exchanged a long look over her head and Luke nodded slowly. It had been quite a day. And they were both wondering if it was going to be like this all the way till the hearing. It could have been a cop for all they knew, and they both realized it, even though they didn’t tell that to Kezia. But the reality was that Lucas was popular only with those he worked with on the outside or the men in prison all over the country who benefited directly from all he did. Not many others really understood. And as loved as he was, he was equally hated.

“I’m going to hire you a bodyguard.” She looked up with a sniff, as Luke took a long sip of his bourbon and Alejandro sat down in a chair near the bed. She was still sitting near Luke.

“No, you’re not, pretty lady. No bodyguard, no bullshit. This happened once. It won’t happen again.”

“How do you know?”

“Baby … don’t push me. Let me run this show. All I want from you is your beautiful smile and your love.” He patted her hand and took a long sip of bourbon Alejandro had handed him. “All I want from you is what you already give me.”

“Yeah, and not my advice.” She said it sadly, her shoulders sagging. “Why won’t you let me hire a bodyguard?”

“Because I already have one.”

“You hired someone?” Why didn’t he tell her anything anymore?

“Not exactly. But I’ve been followed by the cops for a while now.”

“By the cops? Why by them?”

“Why the hell do you think, Mama? Because they think I’m a threat.” It put an aspect on things that she didn’t like. And it suddenly brought home to her that in a sense Luke was considered an outlaw, and that in living with him, she was on that same ill-favored side of the law. She somehow hadn’t totally absorbed her position in all this before. “And don’t kid yourself, sweetheart, it could just as well have been a cop who tried to get a piece of me today.”

“Are you serious?” Her face grew even paler. “Would they do that to you, Luke?”

“Damn right. If they thought they could get away with it, they’d do it in a hot second. And enjoy it.”

“Oh God.” The police taking potshots at Luke? They were supposed to give decent citizens protection. But that was the whole point. And Kezia finally knew it. To the cops, Lucas wasn’t “decent.” He was only that in her eyes, and Al’s, and his friends’, not in the eyes of the rednecks, and the Adult Authority, and the law.

Luke exchanged a rapid look with Alejandro, who slowly and unhappily shook his head. Bad things were coming. He could feel it. “But I’ll tell you one thing, Kezia. I don’t want any bullshit from you. You do exactly what I tell you from now on. No visits to Al up in Harlem, no traipsing through the park alone, no disappearing into the subway. Nothing except what I tell you you can do. Is that clear?” He was wearing the face of a general again as he said it. “Is it?”