The Narrows - Michael Connelly [109]
I wondered why it was that when people tell you what you want them to tell you, it always comes with suspicion and second-guessing attached. Did Eleanor really want me to do what I wanted to do? Or was her saying that a way of undermining the whole thing?
Before I could say anything my daughter came into the kitchen and stood at attention. She wore blue-and-orange-striped pajamas and her dark hair was wet and slicked back on her head.
“Presenting a little girl,” she said.
Eleanor and I both broke out the smiles and simultaneously offered our opened arms for hugs. Maddie went to her mother first and that was all right with me. But it felt a little like when you hold out your hand to someone to shake and they don’t see it or just plain ignore it. I lowered my arms and after a few moments Eleanor saved me.
“Go give Daddy a hug.”
Maddie came to me and I lifted her up into a hug. She was no more than forty pounds. It is an amazing thing to be able to hold everything that is important to you in one arm. She put her damp head against my chest and I didn’t mind that she was getting my shirt wet. That was no problem at all.
“How are you, baby?”
“I’m fine. I drew your picture today.”
“You did? Can I see it?”
“Put me down.”
I did as instructed and she ran off, out of the kitchen, her bare feet slapping on the stone tiles as she headed to the playroom. I looked at Eleanor and smiled. We both knew the secret. No matter what we had or didn’t have for each other, we would always have Madeline and that might be enough.
The running of tiny feet could be heard again and soon she was back in the kitchen, towing a piece of paper held high like a kite. I took it from her and studied it. It showed the figure of a man with a mustache and dark eyes. He had his hands out and in one hand was a gun. On the other side of the page was another figure. This one was drawn in reds and oranges and had eyebrows drawn in a severe black V to indicate he was a bad guy.
I crouched down to my daughter’s height to look at the drawing with her.
“Is this me with the gun?”
“Yes, because you were a policeman.”
I nodded. She had said it like pleaseman.
“And who is this mean guy?”
She pointed a tiny finger at the other figure on the drawing.
“That is Mr. Demon.”
I smiled.
“Who is Mr. Demon?”
“He’s a wrestler. Mommy says you wrestle with demons and he’s the boss of all of them.”
“I see.”
I looked over her head at Eleanor and smiled. I wasn’t mad about anything. I was simply in love with my daughter and how she viewed her world. The literal way in which she took it all in and took it on. I knew it wouldn’t last long and so I treasured every moment I saw and heard of it.
“Can I keep this picture?”
“How come?”
“Because it is beautiful and I want to always have it. I have to go away for a while and I want to be able to look at it all the time. It will remind me of you.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going back to the place they call the City of Angels.”
She smiled.
“That’s silly. You can’t see angels.”
“I know. But look, Mommy has a new book to read to you about a monkey named Billy. So I’m going to say good night now and I’ll get back to see you as soon as I can. Is that okay, baby?”
“Okay, Daddy.”
I kissed her on both cheeks and hugged her tight. Then I kissed the top of her head and let her go. I stood up with my picture and handed her the book Eleanor would read to her.
“Marisol?” Eleanor called.
Marisol appeared within a few seconds, as if she had been waiting in the nearby living room for her cue. I smiled and nodded to her as she received her instructions.
“Why don’t you take Maddie in and get her set up and I’ll be right in after saying good night to her father.”
I watched my daughter leave with her nanny.
“I’m sorry about that,” Eleanor said.
“What, the picture? Don’t worry about it. I love it. It’s going on my refrigerator.”
“I just don’t know where she picked it up. I didn’t directly say to her that you fight demons. She must have overheard me on the phone or something.”
Somehow I would have liked