Chapter 23: The Empty Lobby

Willa was waiting for us on the Birchwood steps with no coat on.

"He took a taxi," she said. "He doesn't have a driver anymore. The company took the car on Monday."

"Is he still in the lobby?"

"He's sitting in the good armchair by the fish tank. The director won't throw him out because he's a donor."

"He's not a donor," Eli said. "I pay the donor line."

"Then I don't know why she hasn't."

We went in together.

Gordon sat in the armchair with his hands on his knees.

His suit was creased.

His watch was gone from his wrist, and the pale band of skin where it had been showed under his cuff.

He stood when he saw his son.

"Eli."

Eli said nothing.

"I need to see Martin."

"No," I said.

"Hannah."

He turned to me, and for once his voice had no warmth in it at all.

"I have nothing. The board took the house this morning. I want to apologize to the man who worked for me for twenty-five years."

"That's not why you're here."

"It's exactly why I'm here."

"You're here because you want him to say it's all right."

Gordon opened his mouth.

He did not say anything.

Behind me, wheels squeaked on the linoleum.

Dad came around the corner in his chair with a nurse behind him, in his blue cardigan, with the butterscotch tin in his lap.

His eyes were clear.

I knew that look by now, and I held my breath.

"Gordon," he said.

"Martin." Gordon's voice cracked. "Martin, my friend."

"I'm not your friend."

Gordon flinched.

"I was your foreman," Dad said. "That's different."

He pointed a scarred finger at Gordon.

"I built your buildings. I kept my mouth shut about the concrete you cheaped out on in ninety-four."

"I know."

"You promised my girl a bed for me for life, and you stopped in three months."

"I did."

"And you let a boy who is worth ten of you pay for it and say nothing."

Gordon looked at Eli.

Eli looked back, steady and tired.

"I'm sorry," Gordon said.

"Are you?" Dad said. "You're sorry because it's cold out and you've got no car."

He tilted his head.

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