CJ’s doing. Not for want of trying. Janet had made it clear early on that she expected a child or two out of the marriage, and while CJ held out as long as he could, he eventually capitulated. His reluctance should have been a sign that there were problems in the marriage, but regardless of the fact that he was a writer and as such made a living observing and documenting what he saw, the idea that there was something wrong with the relationship never occurred to him. As luck would have it, a child never entered the picture, and while CJ now saw that as a blessing, he also realized that it sped him and Janet toward the inevitable marital dissolution.
What he’d kept to himself—even when Janet blamed their inability to conceive on him—was the clean bill of health that came via pristine lab results from his doctor. Whatever it was that kept Janet from getting pregnant, it wasn’t CJ’s fault.
He forced thoughts of his wife from his mind. He would have to deal with her soon enough, once he was back in Tennessee. And he was beginning to suspect that holding out in his apartment and waiting for things to blow over was not as effective a strategy as he’d hoped. And now he had his dog to consider. His apartment didn’t allow him to have an animal of any kind—not even a hamster. And since he was reasonably certain that the apartment manager was coming into the apartment when he wasn’t there, he imagined it would be difficult to keep the presence of a large Lab a secret.
“Hey,” Julie said.
When CJ found her eyes, he realized he’d been somewhere else. In the meantime she’d procured a second cookie. He shook his head. “Sorry. Just thinking about some things.”
“I noticed,” she answered.
What she didn’t vocalize was an invitation to talk about any of them, but he sensed the offer. Even so . . .
“Thanks, but I’m alright.”
She looked unconvinced, but gave him a nod. Then, finishing the last of her second cookie, she gave him a wink and started off toward her husband. CJ watched until she reached the group of men that included Ben and slipped into the arm he extended for her. As he observed the two of them together, it seemed obvious they were happy. He shook his head. A year ago he would have told anyone who asked that his life was perfect—that it had essentially unrolled as he’d mapped it. And was he happy?
Dealing with tough questions, he thought, required the proper fuel. He reached for a cookie.
Chapter 8
The atmosphere at Ronny’s was understandably festive, seeing as a good portion of the guests at Sal’s memorial gathering had followed the party there from the VFW. The place was packed, and CJ had a place at the bar only because it was widely known he’d been Sal’s favorite grandson. In fact, with the exception of his cousin Richard—whom CJ remembered as being a mischievous, cruel little boy—CJ was the only grandchild present. He suspected Graham was somewhere meeting with his campaign manager, and Ben had taken Julie home. He had other cousins, of course, but after so long a time they were all essentially strangers now.
At the moment he was occupied with an old school chum, and they were trying to carry on something resembling a conversation while bodies pressed all around them. His name was Dennis, and he’d been a close friend of CJ’s throughout middle school and early high school. The surrounding conversations and music were growing increasingly louder, but he thought he heard Dennis say something about his family, who still lived on the reservation. Unsure, CJ simply nodded, and then Dennis, as if understanding that catching up with his newly found friend would have to wait, leaned back and drank his beer.
CJ knew he was drinking more than he should, and it was something he rarely did anymore, but he’d gotten a call from his lawyer toward the end of Sal’s party, and it hadn’t been good news. The critic that CJ had lambasted had filed a lawsuit—for a substantial sum. He was spinning it as an assault on his professional reputation, so a judge would have to rule on any damage CJ might have done to the man’s ability to earn a living. CJ was of the belief that a near frivolous lawsuit would do more damage to the man’s reputation than had the indignity he’d suffered at the