Julie and Linus stand before me, resolute. I tell them no again. “I leave in four days,” I insist. “I don’t want to go with you.”
Linus says, “I know it seems horrible, Charlie, but he’s worked really hard for this moment and I think it’s important to support him in his recovery. Even assholes need help sometimes.”
Julie takes my hands. “He’s making his amends, Charlie. This is one of his steps. Honestly, I’ve never seen him like this.”
They’re letting Riley out for Luis Alvarez’s benefit concert. He’ll be accompanied by an aide; he’ll wear an ankle monitor. Performing is the only way Luis’s wife won’t press charges against Riley for stealing Luis’s car. He’ll still have to do the yearlong work-rehab program. He wants me to go to the concert.
Blue sets her cup of coffee on the counter at True Grit; she’s been listening to the conversation quietly. She makes the tiniest of motions with her chin, a shadowy Don’t let anyone make you do anything. I’ve come to know all of Blue’s new looks, the chin dips, the eye wideners, the disapproving scowl. In Creeley, she had only two looks: anger and misery. It’s as though being here has opened Blue up in ways that haven’t happened for me.
I squeegee the mop out, the handle wavering in my hand. Is it the grease on my fingers or something else?
“Okay,” I say finally. “Okay.”
