DAYS AFTER she walked out on us, Nana was back at the house, thank God and the heavenly choir, who had to be watching over us. The whole family, but especially me, had learned a lesson about how much we loved Nana and needed her; how many small, often unnoticed and thankless things she did for us every day; how totally indispensable she was, and the sacrifices she made.
Not that Nana ever really let us forget her contributions under ordinary circumstances. It was just that she was even better than she thought she was.
When she waltzed in the kitchen door that morning, she caught Jannie eating Cocoa Puffs and let her have it in her own inimitable style: “My name is Janelle Cross.
I am a substance abuser,
” Nana said.
Jannie raised both arms over her head in surrender; then she went and emptied the chocolate cereal right into the trash. She looked Nana in the eye, said, “If you’re in a vehicle traveling at the speed of light, what happens when you switch on the headlights?” Then she hugged Nana before she could try to answer the unanswerable.
I went and hugged Nana too and was smart enough to keep my mouth shut but my powder dry.
When I got home from work that night, my grandmother was waiting for me in the kitchen. Uh-oh, I thought, but the second she saw me, Nana put her arms out for a hug, which surprised me. “Come,” she said.
When I was in her arms, she continued, “I’m sorry, Alex. I had no right to run away and leave you all like that. I was in the wrong. I missed all of you as soon as I was in the cab with Abraham.”
“You had every right —,” I started to say.
Nana cut me off. “Now don’t argue with me, Alex. For once, quit while you’re ahead.”
I did as I was told, and shut up.
Chapter 34
BIG STUFF—NOW HERE WE GO. On Friday morning of that week, at a few minutes past nine o’clock, I found myself all alone in the alcove outside Director Ron Burns’s office on the ninth floor of the Hoover Building, FBI headquarters.
The director’s assistant, Tony Woods, peeked his round, deceptively cherubic face out of Burns’s outer office.
“Hey, Alex, there you are. Why don’t you come on in. Good job the other day on Kentucky Avenue. Under the circumstances especially. The director’s been wanting to talk to you about it and some other things he has on his mind. I heard Ned Mahoney’s going to make a full recovery.”
Terrific job—I almost got myself killed,
I thought as I followed Woods into the inner office. Ned Mahoney got shot in the neck. He could have died too.
The director was there waiting for me in his sanctum sanctorum. Ron Burns has a kind of funny way about him: He’s a hard-charging guy, but he’s learned to make meaningless small talk and smile a lot before he gets down to business. That’s pretty much a requirement in Washington, especially if you have to deal with as many sneaky politicians as he does. Like many type-A business-minded men, though, Burns is pretty awful at small talk. But we chatted about local sports and the weather for a good ninety seconds before we got into the real reason for my visit.
“So what’s on your mind these days?” Burns asked. “Tony said you wanted to see me, so I take it this isn’t purely a social call.
“I have a few things to go over with you too. A new assignment for starters: a serial up in Maine and Vermont of all places.”
I nodded and let Burns rattle on. But suddenly I was feeling tense and a little unsure of myself. Finally, I had to cut him off. “There’s no good way to ease into this, Director, so I’ll just say it. I’m here to tell you that I’m going to be leaving the Bureau. This is very difficult, and it’s embarrassing. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I’ve made a decision for my family. It’s final. I’m not going to change my mind.”
“
Shit,
” Burns said, and he hit his desk hard with the palm of his hand. “Damn it all to hell, Alex. Why would you leave us
Not that Nana ever really let us forget her contributions under ordinary circumstances. It was just that she was even better than she thought she was.
When she waltzed in the kitchen door that morning, she caught Jannie eating Cocoa Puffs and let her have it in her own inimitable style: “My name is Janelle Cross.
I am a substance abuser,
” Nana said.
Jannie raised both arms over her head in surrender; then she went and emptied the chocolate cereal right into the trash. She looked Nana in the eye, said, “If you’re in a vehicle traveling at the speed of light, what happens when you switch on the headlights?” Then she hugged Nana before she could try to answer the unanswerable.
I went and hugged Nana too and was smart enough to keep my mouth shut but my powder dry.
When I got home from work that night, my grandmother was waiting for me in the kitchen. Uh-oh, I thought, but the second she saw me, Nana put her arms out for a hug, which surprised me. “Come,” she said.
When I was in her arms, she continued, “I’m sorry, Alex. I had no right to run away and leave you all like that. I was in the wrong. I missed all of you as soon as I was in the cab with Abraham.”
“You had every right —,” I started to say.
Nana cut me off. “Now don’t argue with me, Alex. For once, quit while you’re ahead.”
I did as I was told, and shut up.
Chapter 34
BIG STUFF—NOW HERE WE GO. On Friday morning of that week, at a few minutes past nine o’clock, I found myself all alone in the alcove outside Director Ron Burns’s office on the ninth floor of the Hoover Building, FBI headquarters.
The director’s assistant, Tony Woods, peeked his round, deceptively cherubic face out of Burns’s outer office.
“Hey, Alex, there you are. Why don’t you come on in. Good job the other day on Kentucky Avenue. Under the circumstances especially. The director’s been wanting to talk to you about it and some other things he has on his mind. I heard Ned Mahoney’s going to make a full recovery.”
Terrific job—I almost got myself killed,
I thought as I followed Woods into the inner office. Ned Mahoney got shot in the neck. He could have died too.
The director was there waiting for me in his sanctum sanctorum. Ron Burns has a kind of funny way about him: He’s a hard-charging guy, but he’s learned to make meaningless small talk and smile a lot before he gets down to business. That’s pretty much a requirement in Washington, especially if you have to deal with as many sneaky politicians as he does. Like many type-A business-minded men, though, Burns is pretty awful at small talk. But we chatted about local sports and the weather for a good ninety seconds before we got into the real reason for my visit.
“So what’s on your mind these days?” Burns asked. “Tony said you wanted to see me, so I take it this isn’t purely a social call.
“I have a few things to go over with you too. A new assignment for starters: a serial up in Maine and Vermont of all places.”
I nodded and let Burns rattle on. But suddenly I was feeling tense and a little unsure of myself. Finally, I had to cut him off. “There’s no good way to ease into this, Director, so I’ll just say it. I’m here to tell you that I’m going to be leaving the Bureau. This is very difficult, and it’s embarrassing. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I’ve made a decision for my family. It’s final. I’m not going to change my mind.”
“
Shit,
” Burns said, and he hit his desk hard with the palm of his hand. “Damn it all to hell, Alex. Why would you leave us
Similar Books
