Page 91 of Now and Forever

She nods. Eric parks the car. He gets out and slams the door hard enough that I can estimate the caliber of his anger before he stomps toward us intimidatingly.

Good Lord! My Iceman is really pissed this time!

When he decides to be mean, he’s the worst. Nobody breathes. I look at him. He looks at me. And when he’s closer to us, he shouts with reproach on his face, “What is this dog doing here?”

Flyn doesn’t say a word. Norbert and Simona are stumped. They’re all looking at me.

“We were playing in the snow, and he was playing with us,” I say.

Eric takes Flyn by the hand and growls, “You and I need to talk. What did you do at school?”

The tone of voice he uses with the little boy distresses me. Why does he have to talk to him like that?

“They called me from school again. From what I can tell, you’ve gotten yourself into another mess, and this time it’s a big one!”

“Uncle, I ...”

“Quiet!” he shouts. “You’re going straight to boarding school. You’re finally going to get it. Go to my office and wait for me there.”

Faced with Eric’s stern gaze, Simona, Norbert, and the boy walk away.

With sadness on her face, Simona looks at me. I wink at her, even though I know I’m in a fine mess too. It doesn’t take much to get a German mad! Once we’re alone, Eric sees the sled and the tracks it left on the slope, and he hisses, “I want that dog out of my house, you hear me?”

“But, Eric ... listen ...”

“No, I’m not going to listen, Jude.”

“Well, you should,” I insist.

We exchange intense stares, and he finally shouts, “I said out!”

“Look, if you’re angry about something at the office, don’t take it out on me, you lout!”

He breathes in, touches his hair, and mutters, “I told you I didn’t want to see that mutt here and, as far as I can remember, I never gave you permission to let my nephew get on a sled, much less anywhere near that animal.”

Surprised by his burst of bad temper and ready to put up a fight, I protest.

“I didn’t think I had to ask your permission to play in the snow. If you tell me so, from this day on, I’ll ask your permission to breathe. Fuck, I thought I’d heard everything!”

Eric doesn’t respond, and I add, pissed off, “Where Susto is concerned, I want him to stay here. This house is so big, you don’t have to see him if you don’t want to. You have a backyard as big as a park. I can build a doghouse for him to live in, and he’ll guard the house. I don’t know why you’re so set on throwing him out, especially in this cold. Doesn’t that make you sad? C’mon, Eric, please.”

My Iceman, impressive in his suit and deep blue jacket, looks at Susto. The dog is shaking, poor little thing!

“Do you think I’m stupid, Jude?” he says, surprising me. And, when I don’t respond, he goes on. “This animal has already been in the garage for some time.”

My heart stands still. Has he seen my bike too?

“You knew?”

“You think I’m stupid enough not to notice? Of course I knew.” My jaw drops. “I told you I didn’t want the animal in my house, but even so, you brought it in and ...”

“Since you’re talking about your house again ... I’m going to get mad,” I seethe, not mentioning the bike. If he doesn’t say anything, I’d better not bring it up right now. “For a long time you’ve been telling me to consider this house my own, and now, because I’ve given shelter to a poor animal in your goddamned garage so he won’t die of cold and hunger in the street, you’re acting like ... like ...”

“An asshole,” he finishes.

“Exactly,” I agree. “You said it—an asshole!”

“Between my nephew and you, the two of you are going to—”

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