Alternate Side(55)

“Hot dogs everywhere,” Linda said drily.

“You have to see it to believe it, Judge.” Oh, Nora thought to herself, that’s why we got asked in. Linda’s shoulders stiffened, and Nora realized she didn’t like someone using her title in this setting, particularly a police officer.

“I hear they will actually sometimes roast an entire pig,” Linda said.

“You hear right,” said the officer, who clearly didn’t recognize sarcasm when he heard it. But Nora did. She’d initially found Linda a bit cold and she’d never known what to talk to her about because she seemed so serious. But suddenly she liked her, admired her, even. On the other side of Linda, Nora saw Sherry Fisk holding her hand in front of her face to hide her smile. The three of them had walked back to the block from the precinct. “It’s not for us,” Linda said from between clenched teeth. “It’s for those people.”

“We could hire a caterer,” said Sherry. “Caterers can get a permit.” For a year they had held out, hoping the law would be repealed, writing letters, organizing petitions. But one year without the barbecue was plenty, and Sherry hired a catering company called Charcoal Briquettes, which basically did nothing but barbecues, although in the winter they turned into Church Supper and did crockpot food for people who had grown up on it but hadn’t actually had it in years. They all had to admit that the catered barbecue was not as laborious and that the food was better, although it felt somewhat less like the block barbecue than it had before.

“So if there’s no barbecue, why did we get a note from George about contacting him?” Nora asked as Homer marked the spot where Lady had just peed.

“Oh, he’s so irritating,” Linda said. “I swear, I know Betsy is supposed to be saving lives, but if I were married to him I’d arrange to be away from home all the time, too. When I told him we were putting the barbecue on ice, he insisted that we had to send out some letter to everyone, and when I didn’t jump to it, he came to me with this horrible thing he’d written that talked about the accident, and the events, and the recent unpleasantness, just the sort of thing the papers would have loved to get their hands on and probably print in its entirety if the case ever went to trial. I went slightly ballistic. I mean, this is so not a good time to pretend that it’s business as usual around here.”

It was not. Jack was rarely seen on the block, particularly after the day he had been out getting coffee and had run into Nora and Linda. It was the first time Nora had seen him since he’d been put in the back of the police car, and she was uncertain how to respond. Linda was not at all uncertain. “Good morning, Jack,” she said with the frostiest voice imaginable, without any indication that she would stop and chat even when Jack had squared up in front of her on the sidewalk. Either he was growing a beard or he had forgotten how to shave.

“Judge, you of all people should know there are two sides to every story,” he said loudly.

“I certainly do, Jack,” Linda said. “But I’ve learned over the years that the two sides are often not of equal weight.”

Nora did not speak until they were half a block away. “I feel so sorry for Sherry,” she said. “I think she’s still angry at me for going to see Ricky in the hospital.”

“She shouldn’t care,” Linda said. “Nobody knows better than her what he’s like. Did you ever hear the story of when they first got Brutus? Jack didn’t want to neuter him. That says it all. One day Sherry looked up and Brutus had his leg lifted and was marking all down the hallway on this wallpaper that it had taken her months to find. She took the dog to the vet that afternoon, and Jack went crazy. I think that was one of the times she left him. The mystery is why she came back. Although I suppose it’s not really a mystery. Two children and all that.”

The Lessmans had no children. “It’s a big house for just two people,” someone had said years ago at the Christmas party, the constant refrain of those whose children were grown and gone, and Linda looked at Harold and he looked back at her and they both smiled and said, “It certainly is.” Charlie liked to posit that the Lessmans were one of those couples of restrained dress and manner who had a dungeon in their basement. Maybe he was right. Or maybe they were just what they seemed to be.

“You don’t think he hit her?” Nora asked Linda.

“Amazingly, no. His abuse was always verbal until the encounter with Ricky. He’s the kind who abuses down the social ladder. Cabdrivers, waiters. He’s relatively civil to surgeons, senior partners, and CEOs. Have you ever gone to dinner with them? It’s a nightmare. One substandard piece of fish and it’s World War Three. I’ve put up with it for years, but not anymore. This was it for me. I told Harold, I’m done. Sherry, yes. Jack, never again.”

“You are tough,” Nora said.

“What? Oh, it’s mainly professional posturing. Not for this, though. I mean it. Really, it’s unforgivable, what he did.”

Nora had to agree. So did all the people who worked on the block. Grace, the Fisks’ housekeeper, had quit. She had told Sherry that it was because she was used to being able to work alone in the house, both Sherry and Jack at work, and that having Mr. Fisk around all day when he wasn’t at the country house, criticizing the way she cleaned the steam shower and telling her Mop & Glo was dulling the floors, was making her crazy. And Brutus had growled at her twice. George had told Charlie that Brutus had been placed on medication to combat his anxiety about the atmosphere at home.