I climbed into the backseat.

“But maybe your friend should sit here.” Her features clouded, suddenly unsure if she’d done the right thing.

“It’s okay. I like the backseat,” I reassured her. Deidre probably spent a lot of her time being out of place, different, with its taint of inferior.

“How was school today?” O’Connor asked her.

Her reply was disjointed, jumping from subject to subject. Some of her words slurred, as if pronouncing were a constant struggle. I wondered why O’Connor wanted me along for this, what he wanted to prove.

“I got to stop by the station for a little bit. Do you mind?” O’Connor asked me.

“No, no problem.”

“I don’t want to take the evidence you gave me home.”

As we pulled into the precinct parking lot, O’Connor turned to me and said, “I got about a half hour of paperwork, most of it yours.”

I shrugged. Babysitting duty, that was my reason for being here.

“Deidre, pumpkin, Daddy’s got to do some work. So you and Miss Micky are going to go play for a while. Is that okay?”

“Okay, Daddy,” she replied.

Miss Micky? There are disadvantages to being an adult. We all got out of the car. O’Connor opened the trunk and took out a big, brightly colored ball.

“We got a little patch of ground back here that passes for a yard,” he said as he led us through a passageway between buildings. He was right, it was just a patch with some anemic grass on it and one picnic bench that had seen better days. O’Connor left us there.

I glanced at my watch, then at Deidre. She was standing motionless, as if her animation had left when her father had. I tossed the ball in the air, then asked, “So, do you want to be the pitcher or the catcher?”

She smiled at me, but didn’t seem to understand the question.

“I’ll throw the ball to you,” I motioned throwing, “and you toss it back. Okay?”

She nodded and held out her arms. I tossed the ball gently to her. She tried to catch it, but it slipped through her hands and hit her in the stomach. Deidre thought that this was funny and giggled. She ran for the ball, kicking it out of her reach several times before she finally got it. Using both arms, she gave it a wild throw in the air that I had to scramble to catch. She laughed, a loud, open-throated laugh, as if playing catch in this dingy yard was the most fun she could imagine having.

We continued throwing the ball back and forth, with pretty much the same results. I found myself starting to laugh with her. If she thought it funny when she dropped the ball or threw it straight up in the air, then I could find it funny, too. At first, I had concentrated on doing correct “adult” throws, then I realized it didn’t matter. Instead I started tossing the ball overhand, underhand, between my legs, bounced it off my head, all way off target, but fun as hell.

Finally, we both collapsed on the bench, having tossed the ball every possible way. Deidre leaned into me and wrapped her arms around my waist, avoiding her imperfect words to tell me that laughing with her had made me her friend. I put my arms around her shoulders and hugged her back.

Then I tensed. What would it look like, a lesbian alone with a young girl in a secluded yard? All the things that Barbara Selby had implied about me jumbled in my mind. Why didn’t O’Connor come back when we were playing ball, impeccably innocent? Now Deidre’s head was on my lap, one arm resting across my thigh.

I realized that O’Connor was not a stupid man. And I knew why he had asked me along to meet his daughter, his special, trusting daughter. It was to leave me alone in this secluded space with her, to make up for Barbara’s mistrust and accusations.

A few minutes later I heard O’Connor’s footsteps in the alley. Deidre and I were still sitting on the bench, her head in my lap, and I was telling her the story of the tortoise and the hare. O’Connor sat at the end of the bench, listening quietly until I had finished.

“You ready to go?” he asked us.

I nodded.

Deidre stood up and said, “I’m like the tortoise, Daddy, slow, but I get there.”

As we went back through the alley, I said to O’Connor, “Thank you.”

“For what?” He brushed it off.

“Trusting me.”

“With four kids I’m always looking for good babysitters.”

“Still…” For a moment, I thought I might cry. I felt a tremendous relief, guilt washed away as the dirt it was.

“Hey,” O’Connor responded. He awkwardly put his hand on my shoulder.

“Better find out my rates first,” I said, quickly wiping my eyes. “I consider kids a dangerous duty.”

I had O’Connor drop me a few blocks from my place. It was a little after five. I promised Deidre that I would come over sometime and play ball with her. We were still working on the Miss Micky part, though.

Chapter 27

Joey didn’t call until after nine o’clock. “You ready for some fun?” he asked. “This time the truck’s over in Kenner, near the airport. Gotta keep changing. Never the same place twice.”

“I guess. You going to drive me out there?”

“Naw. You get to take the bus.”

“To Kenner?” Kenner was beyond Metairie, the suburb of a suburb. “I’d have to take five or six buses. I won’t get there until tomorrow.”

“Relax. I’m jerking you. I’ll be over in about half an hour to pick you up. We’ll go over the rest of the stuff on the way out.”

“See you in a little bit,” I said. I remembered to get both my jacket and scarf when he rang the buzzer. I had no faith in the truck’s heating system.

“Another night of fun and games,” Joey said as he shoved the car door open for me.