Fat Tuesday(21)

In the ensuing weeks and months, he had helped her sort through insurance papers, file for the inadequate pension she received from the N.O.P.D, set up her own credit and bank accounts, and make other necessary budgetary adjustments.

Responding to a phone call from her, he'd come over the day she cleared out Kev's closet. She offered Burke some of his better clothes, and he'd accepted them. Then he'd dropped them into a Goodwill receptacle on his way home. He couldn't have worn them.

In the fall, he'd checked the furnace and changed the filters for her.

At Christmas, he'd set up the tree and helped her decorate it. Kev had been dead almost a year, but Burke still felt compelled to come by every couple of weeks to lend his widow whatever assistance she might need.

Trouble was, it was becoming harder to find things to talk about.

With the passage of time, their conversations had become more strained, not less so. Burke avoided talking about anything relating to the police department and the personnel Nancy knew. Since his work was the most vital component of his life, he found himself searching for something besides the weather and the boys' health to fill the increasing stretches of silence.

She always received him graciously, but she had changed, subtly but undeniably. She was more reserved now than she'd been when Kev was alive. They'd shared some rollicking laughs. She could tease and put you down as well as one of the guys. Burke supposed it was easy for a woman to joke with her husband's friend when her husband was there, laughing along with her. It wasn't so easy when he was dead.

They had spent a lot of time speculating on the outcome of Bardo's trial. Now that it was over, now that the final chapter on that dark episode in their lives had been written, what was there for them to talk about?

"Uh ..."

"Burke ... " She must have been as uncomfortably aware of the lagging conversation as he, because they began speaking at the same time. He indicated for her to go ahead."No, you," she said.

They were saved further awkwardness by the boys' arrival. Having seen Burke's car parked out front, they raced into the house, filling it with welcome racket and the unique smell of sweaty little boys. They dropped their jackets and backpacks and crowded Burke, jostling each other to get near him.

After a quick snack, he took them into the backyard. This was their routine. Following his visit with Nancy, he did something with David and Peter alone. The boys got to choose the activity. Today they decided on batting practice.

"Like this, Burke?" the younger, Peter, asked.

His stance was atrocious, but Burke replied, "Just like that.

You're getting the hang of it, slugger. Choke up on your bat just a little. Now let's see what you can do."

He pitched a ball that hit the bat, not the other way around.

Peter whooped and ran their makeshift bases. At home plate, Burke gave him a high five and a swat on the butt.

"We're going out for Little League. Maybe you could come to one of our games, Burke," David ventured hopefully.

"Just one? I planned on getting a season ticket." The hair he teasingly ruffled was the same coppery red their father's had been.

And because the smiles they beamed up at him were replicas of Kev's, a lump formed in his throat. He might have made a fool of himself if Nancy hadn't come to the back door just then and called the boys in to wash up.

"Dinner in fifteen minutes," she told them.

"See ya, Burke." "See ya, Burke," Peter said, parrotting his older brother as they traipsed toward the rear of the house.

"You're great with them," Nancy observed.

"It's easy to be great with somebody else's kids. I understand it's tougher with your own."

"Why didn't you and Barbara have children?"

"I don't know. Just never got around to it. There always seemed to be a good reason to postpone them. First, a shortage of money."

"And then?"

"A shortage of money." He meant it as a joke, but it fell flat.

"I don't know what I would have done without my sons. Kevin is still alive in them."

Solemnly, he nodded with understanding. Then, realizing that his right hand was flexing, he stilled it and said quickly, "I'd better shove off.

I wouldn't want to make the Future of Baseball late for open house."

"You're welcome to stay for supper."

It was an obligatory invitation. She always offered, and he always declined."No thanks. Barbara will be looking for me." "Tell her I said hi."

"Will do."

"Burke." She glanced down the hallway toward the bathroom, where the boys could be heard arguing. Then, abruptly bringing her focus back to him, she said, "I don't want you to come back."

He didn't think he'd heard her right."What?" Even after she repeated it, he was dumbfounded.

She drew a deep breath and pulled herself up straighter. Obviously she had given whatever she was about to say a great deal of thought. As much as she had dreaded saying it, she had made up her mind to do so now and was bracing herself for it.

"I can't be around you, can't even look at you, without thinking of Kev. Every time I see you, it's like going through the whole ordeal again. Each time you call or visit, I cry for days afterward. I get angry, feel sorry for myself. It's a setback that I barely recover from before I hear from you and have to go through it again."