Chapter 37

He should have been used to silent rides with Gwen, but this one was different. He could have said it was just because they were on a subway and he didn't have the distraction of driving. But that wasn't the reason, and he full well knew it.

He was hoping the swaying of the train and the rhythmic clack clack clack of the wheels across the track would lull her to sleep. But she was wide eyed, staring at a crude bit of graffiti someone had drawn on the opposite wall.

"Gwen?"

"Yes, Mr. Harrow?" she replied softly. He wasn't surprised that she had reverted to formality, not after the way he lost his temper and rounded on her. He was sad that he had managed to shatter the small bit of trust she had started to have in him. But did she really trust me? She thought I was encouraging Chris to steal for Christ's sake! Still, I think something was forming between us. It was small, and obviously fragile, but it could have grown. She's just so infuriating! No, that's not fair to her. Yes, she is infuriating but that doesn't mean it's okay for me to snap at her.

"The thing I, mm. Asked Chris to think about, and the…thing he said he would, mm. Do tonight…are the same thing. He's, mm. Probably going to ask about…what Taylor said."

"Oh. But…how did…Why would…what…" She trailed off and sighed; confusion, frustration, weariness all weighing heavily on her and making it impossible for her to think clearly.

"After the accident," Richard explained, understanding what she was asking, "and I scolded the kids for, mm. Not paying attention, I asked Chris if he...knew what you would do to me if I, mm, had hit him, and his reply was…well, bratty. I told him he, mm. Needed to hear you out before he could. Rightly be mad at you. I didn't want to. Say anything earlier in case he, mm. Didn't actually do it. I didn't want to…agitate you or, mm. Worry you." Not that she seemed to have other states, but it seemed insulting to add 'any further' to his statement. Speaking of insulting… "As I said, unrelated to. Stealing a car." He shouldn't have said that; he knew it as soon as he started and watching Gwen pull in on herself only proved it. But he figured that since the delicate friendship had been shattered, he might as well say his peace. "When we first met, and all you thought, mm, about me was that…I was a murderer, it annoyed me because it was the, mm. Only thought you had. But I couldn't deny it, so it didn't, mm. Really bother me. But I have…never been a thief, and the, mm. Fact that you thought I would. Even think of…encouraging Chris! Honestly? That…" He paused, because he was about to confess something that he wouldn't have thought possible just a few months ago. "That…hurt me." He sighed, well aware that little, if any, of this would make sense to Gwen. "Maybe you think it's, mm. Odd that I take offense at being…accused of something I'm not when what I am is…so much worse, but…" He gave a small shrug, realizing he couldn't explain it well enough to himself, much less to her. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, saw she was nervously wringing her hands. "I know it...doesn't make it better, but, mm. I am sorry I snapped earlier. I could give you, mm. Excuses, but there is …no excuse for it. I will do my best to. Not let it…happen again. I wish I could, mm. Promise that it won't." He wished he could explain, but so many years of emotional deadness followed by an eventful few months of feeling every damned thing was too much to explain on a subway ride, and…to be honest, he wasn't sure she was even interested in hearing him out anymore. He may have frightened her back into the terribly formal stiffness that she treated him with at the beginning, and he wasn't sure if he would be able to win her trust back.

"Maybe someday," she said after a few moments of careful thinking, "you and I will have a conversation where I don't apologize for saying or doing something idiotic. Probably not, because I'm likely too old to learn to be anything but an idiot, but I'm good at holding out hope. Thank you for…for apologizing for earlier. And I…I appreciate that you aren't just blindly promising it won't happen again. Because it will, Mr. Harrow. And it's not you, really. It's just…it's a reaction I bring out in people." The shrug she gave said that this was something she had accepted as her lot in life. "I'm sorry for calling you a thief. I just…I wasn't sure if…um, in your, um, line of work? If you, um...had, um, specific jobs, or if you all, um…did a bit of, um…you know, everything." She took a deep breath; that was it for her carefully thought-out speech, but there was still more she needed to say. "Please don't take offense at what I'm about to say. It's just, I…well, I'm sometimes afraid that Chris will turn out like his father. I've tried to, you know, raise him right…always do this, and never do that, try to avoid the, um…no offense, but…um, the, uh… less law-abiding crowds. But then, I end up here; through my own stupidity, I know, but…I just wonder if, maybe…maybe Chris got something from Jeff. I mean, he has Jeff's hair, and smile; what if he also has Jeff's gambling habit? Or he starts lying? Or he doesn't take responsibility for his actions?"

"I really don't think you, mm. Worry about that," Richard said, thinking if the note that had sparked this mess. "If Chris, mm. Was anything like Taylor, the accident…would have been Patty's fault for, mm. Throwing the ball too hard, or mm, the Dixon boys' for not stopping him. From running into the…road, or my fault for, mm. Driving. If he was, mm. Anything like Taylor, Chris would never have…written that note. But he's not…like Taylor. In every way that matters, he's, mm. Like you. That's why I said…he was, mm. Very much your son. I won't be, mm. Surprised if he offers, mm. To pay me back somehow. He probably has some, mm. Very firm notions on repaying debts." He saw the corner of her mouth lift with a small smile. "He's a good kid, Gwen. When he's older and, mm. Making his own decisions, I'm sure he'll make you proud." He looked up as the train pulled into a station. "Mm, this is our stop."

Gwen looked up at the tile work on the wall, thought for a moment, and said "Wait, Mr. Harrow. We want… I think it's the next stop, or the one right after, but we want the one with the green tiles, not the blue."

"But this is, mm. Whitaker…"

"Please, trust me?"

Not that Richard had a choice at that point, since the doors closed and the train moved on.

"But that…was Whitaker Street," Richard said, confused. He always met Gwen at a corner on Whitaker, so why didn't they get off at the station on the street they needed to be on? And how did Gwen know what stop they needed?

They got off at the next station, which was done with green tiles. "But we're…too far west," Richard said, a bit more peevishly than he probably had any right to be.

"We're two blocks from Mrs. Mazetti's." Gwen fought to keep a note of irritation from creeping into her voice. She knew she needed to tread carefully, not risk angering him again. But irrational as it might have been, she was offended that he thought she was too stupid to know her away around her own city. "We'll just be coming from the other direction."

Richard started to say something, thought better of it. He just gave a small wave of his hand, silently telling her to lead on.

They said nothing as they walked, but from the corner of his eye, Richard saw Gwen studying him. He didn't look her way again, just gave her peace to mull over whatever she was thinking. It didn't take long to walk the two blocks, even at Gwen's tired, shorter pace; and when Gwen stopped directly in front of Mrs. Mazetti's building, Richard gave her a curious look.

"I know you know this is where I drop Chris's off," she told him. "I…I think you've known all along, haven't you?"

"I have," he admitted.

She gave a small nod, lowered her eyes, and took a deep breath. "Thank you for being honest about it. I figured you…I mean, Mr. Lansky knew a lot about me, the first time we met, so I assumed someone was, you know… But then, it um, it was the night you started teaching Chris to write. He said, Mr. Lansky, I mean…he said that you, um, you never told anyone…not even him, where I lived. He said it was because you knew that I was…um…uncomfortable…with the, uh…situation, but also because you…um…didn't trust anyone else with it. He said he could, you know…see your point, because he wouldn't trust some of those guys with his laundry. But he told me that he would trust you with his life. That seems like high praise, coming from someone like Mr. Lansky. Given, um…earlier, and um, the way…um, well…you know. It's just …I don't want you to think that, um, that I don't…What I mean is, I still trust you, with Chris. I know you wouldn't, um…lose your temper with him; not that he would give you any reason to. I don't want you to think I'm going to get, you know…weird again. At least, not with that," she clarified, because she knew herself. "And, I was, um …wondering, if it…if it isn't too much to ask? Would you mind terribly waiting here while I get Chris? I…well, it's just…if he is going to ask, he might…you know, get the courage to do it, if he sees you."

"I don't mind," Richard told her quietly. He thought over what she had said, while he waited; especially that part about how she still trusted him with Chris. He had been afraid of losing that, but he wouldn't have been able to blame Gwen if she had pulled it back. He was surprised that she hadn't, and he wondered if what Meyer had said about trusting Richard with his life played a part in that, and if so…did she realize she was trusting the recommendation of the very kind of man she wanted Chris to avoid? Just be grateful she still trusts you with him, he told himself. And do everything you can to get the trust she had for you, with her, back.