Chapter 10: Hank's POV

Hank's POV

I drove straight from Bree's house to the clubhouse with my wet shirt still stuck to my back.

It was seven in the morning, and the lot was empty except for one gray Road King.

Gus was inside, alone, sweeping the floor.

He did not stop when I came in.

"You told her," he said.

"I did."

"I figured you would, sooner or later." He leaned the broom against the pool table. "Sit down, son. Coffee's on."

"I don't want coffee."

"Then stand."

I stood.

"In March, you told me she'd lose more than a husband," I said. "I've been carrying that sentence around for six months."

"Hank."

"I told her this morning, because I should have told her in March. She threw me out. Fair enough. Now I want to know what it means."

Gus looked at me for a long moment.

He was sixty-one, and he had been president of this club for twenty-two years, and I had never seen him look old until that morning.

"It means what it means," he said.

"That isn't an answer."

"It's the one I've got," Gus said.

He picked up a rag and began wiping the bar, though it was clean.

"I made a promise to Frank Callahan a long time ago. A man keeps a promise."

"To a dead man?"

"Especially to him."

"Gus."

"Go home, Hank. Go see your girl. Let this one settle."

I stood there another minute.

He did not look up from the bar.

I left.

My daughter was at my mother's, and I stopped there on the way home because I needed to look at something that was simple.