“Shoot.”
He takes another breath and looks at me. “I wish I could have killed him myself. I really do.”
I tuck my arm in his. We head back to the house, Macy waiting inside the door, jumping up and down.
“I know the feeling,” I say.
103
Simon
At ten-thirty the following Monday morning, it’s time for my call. I can’t remember if he was supposed to call me or the other way around, but he calls at the exact time.
“Dennis,” I say.
“Simon. How are you?”
“Any better and they’d have to arrest me,” I say.
“Well, I wish I could say the same. We’re going to miss you.”
“I appreciate that. And I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Dennis. I really do.”
“It’s been my pleasure. So, should we go over the allocations one more time?”
“Please.”
“Okay,”he says.“Five million to the American Stroke Association.”
“Right.”
“Five million to the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline.”
“Yes.”
“Five million to the National Center on Domestic Violence, Trauma, and Mental Health.”
“Correct.”
“Five million to the National Runaway Safeline.”
“Yes.”
“Oh-kay,”he says.“And you took out that million a few months ago.”
Right. That’s for something else.
“So,”he continues,“that leaves only a couple hundred thousand left over. You could leave it with us, or I could transfer it to a money market.”
“Divide it up equally and add it to the five million we’re giving each of those groups,” I say.
“You don’t want to keep even a little for yourself, Simon?”
No. I don’t want one penny of that money.
104
Simon