The Harry Bosch Novels Vol I Part 123

"Sounds like one of those b.u.mper stickers you see. 'How'm I driving?' ...Harry, I don't know how we are. I guess that's why I'm here."

There was an uneasy silence as she looked around the porch and out into the pa.s.s. Bosch crushed his cigarette out and dropped it in an old coffee can he kept by the door.

"Hey, new cushions."

"Yeah."

"Harry, you have to understand why I needed some time. It's -"

"I do."

"Let me finish. I rehea.r.s.ed this enough times, I'd like to get a chance to actually say it to you. I just wanted to say that it is going to be very hard for me, for us, if we go on. It is going to be hard to deal with our pasts, our secrets, and most of all what you do, what you bring home with you..."

Bosch waited for her to continue. He knew she wasn't done.

"I know I don't have to remind you, but I've been through it before with a man I loved. And I saw it all go bad and - you know how it ended. There was a lot of pain for both of us. So you have to understand why I needed to take a step back and take a look at this. At us."

He nodded but she wasn't looking at him. Her not looking concerned him more than her words. He couldn't bring himself to speak, though. He didn't know what he could say.

"You live a very hard struggle, Harry. Your life, I mean. A cop. Yet with all your baggage I see and know there are still very n.o.ble things about you."

Now she looked at him.

"I do love you, Harry. I want to try to keep that alive because it's one of the best things about my life. One of the best things I know. I know it will be hard. But that might make it all the better. Who knows?"

He went to her then.

"Who knows?" he said.

And they held each other for a long time, his face next to hers, smelling her hair and skin. He held the back of her neck as though it was as fragile as a porcelain vase.

After a while they broke apart but only long enough to get on the chaise lounge together. They sat silently, just holding each other, for the longest time - until the sky started to dim and turn red and purple over the San Gabriels. Bosch knew there were still the secrets he carried, but they would keep for now. And he would avoid that black place of loneliness for just a while longer.

"Do you want to go away this weekend?" he asked. "Get away from the city? We could take that trip up to Lone Pine. Stay in a cabin tomorrow night."

"That would be wonderful. I could - We could use it."

A few minutes later she added, "We might not be able to get a cabin, Harry. There's so few of them and they're usually booked by Friday."

"I already have one on reserve."

She turned around so she could face him. She smiled slyly and said, "Oh, so you knew all the time. You were just hanging around waiting for me to come back. No sleepless nights, no surprise."

He didn't smile. He shook his head and for a few moments he looked out at the dying light reflected on the west wall of the San Gabriels.

"I didn't know, Sylvia," he said. "I hoped."

By Michael Connelly

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