Read Online Skin Trade by Reggie Nadelson - Free Book Online Page A

sorry.”
    â€œI left Scarsdale when Dede died. Our daughter Lisa’s in her first year at Yale. Alex, he’s seventeen, he’s in prep school. I wanted him home, but it’s what he needed. Before they went away, I was a regular suburban daddy.”
    â€œIt sounds good.”
    â€œI loved it. I’m kind of at loose ends. I travel a lot now. Hey, sorry. This is gloomy stuff. You want more coffee?”
    â€œTwo Russian guys in Paris, you got to have some kind of gloom, right?
    â€œI don’t feel Russian.”
    â€œMe either. I never did.”
    â€œI killed myself getting rid of the accent. When I heard my accent, it was like a bad smell, I wanted to be American.”
    â€œI know what you mean.”
    â€œYou do?” He looked grateful.
    I nodded.
    â€œWhen Gorbachev got in and things changed, I realized there was this huge country and nothing in it and everybody wants something. I held off. I wouldn’t do business with them, you know. For ages. Dede said this is nuts, I’ll go with you. She even learned Russian. And I saw Russia through her eyes and it looked better. Sort of better. She could be in Moscow and look at the churches, the pictures, the museums, the subways, she could think about Chekhov, she could enjoy the Bolshoi. She made friends there. She made it OK for me again.” He put his hand on my arm. “So what happened to you?”
    â€œWe left Moscow, we went to Israel. After the army, I beat it to New York. I became a cop. I liked it. I do private stuff now.”
    â€œYou’re married? Kids?”
    â€œNot married.”
    â€œHappy, though?”
    â€œI was.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œNothing. Forget it.”
    He saw I was restless. He said, “I should let you go,” and reached for the check.
    I wanted to say: don’t go. I wanted to tell him about Lily, but I didn’t. I didn’t tell him because there was no point and I didn’t really know him, didn’t know what casual conversation he might have with someone who would talk too much. I had no leads on Lily’s case. After twenty years on the job, even though I had quit the department, I was still a cop. I kept my mouth shut.
    Joe said, “I really am going to let you go. I’m at the Raphael, and I have an office here. I’ll write the numbers down.” He pulled a business card out of his pants pocket and scribbled on it. “Listen, if you want to talk or anything, or get some food, I don’t want to pry, but you look like a guy who’s not feeling so great. Whatever it is, I could maybe help.”
    â€œYou’re still good at fixing things?”
    â€œI try.”
    I got up. We shook hands, punched each other on the shoulder like American guys do. I said, “I’ll call.”
    â€œYou take care, Artie.”
    â€œYeah.”
    Fallon zipped up his jacket. “Hey.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYou still love Stan Getz?”

5
    â€œLily?”
    There was a muscle that twitched in her cheek. Once I imagined I could see her left eye flicker. Later that morning, after I ate breakfast with Joe Fallon, I sat with Lily. She wanted something from me; I felt she wanted to tell me something. I sat by her bed and stared at her face, but it was blank and she was locked up inside her own body, plugged into life-supports, silent. When I leaned over her, the down on her eyelids seemed to flutter in my breath.
    In a corridor near Lily’s room, I found Dr Lariot. I couldn’t meet his eyes, I was too scared of what I might see, so I kept my eyes fixed on the plastic name-tag on his coat and said, “I want to take her home. To New York.”
    She wants to go home I told him, but it was me who wanted it. I wanted my life back. Lariot put out his hand and I shook it, and finally I looked up at him, a mild-looking guy, going bald, dark-brown skin. Around us people rushed up and down the hospital