Red Leaves. Paullina Simons

wish. No, there’s the chief above me. Ken Gallagher.’

      ‘Irish, like you.’

      He nodded.

      She seemed thoughtful. ‘I didn’t know policemen made enough money to live in Hanover.’

      ‘I know - you kids drove the price of this town way up. Three-bedroom houses start at two hundred and sixty thousand. Two-bedroom apartments rent for nine hundred.’

      ‘You must be making good money.’

      ‘Nah - I gave up smoking.’

      ‘What, so you could afford a place in Hanover?’

      ‘That’s right.’

      Smiling, Kristina said, ‘Didn’t give up taking girls out for coffee, though.’

      ‘Did.’ He paused. ‘But I just fell off the wagon.’

      ‘I see.’

      ‘What kind of a name is Kim?’ Spencer asked her.

      ‘An unusual one?’ she offered. She didn’t seem to want to talk about it, so he left it.

      ‘Go back much to visit your family?’

      ‘Not much,’ said Spencer. ‘You?’

      ‘Not much,’ said Kristina.

      ‘Your folks, they must be pretty proud of you, going to Dartmouth and all. Me, I just went to a state university for a year and then joined the force.’

      ‘Do you miss home at all?’

      Spencer nodded. ‘I miss my brothers and sisters.’

      ‘Oh yeah?’ She smiled. ‘How many have you got?’

      ‘More than you’ve had dinners,’ replied Spencer, repeating

      Kristina’s own expression. ‘Eight. Five brothers, three sisters.’

      ‘My God, I’ve never in my life met anyone with that many siblings. I barely read about that many siblings.’

      ‘Yeah, we had a big family.’

      ‘Are you guys Catholic or something?’

      ‘No, no, Protestant,’ said Spencer. ‘Of course we’re Catholic. With a last name like O’Malley?’

      Kristina sat back. ‘Gosh, how did your mother do it?’

      ‘I don’t know. I think she was done by her fifth kid. I was pretty much looked after by my sisters.’

      ‘Still, though - nine kids.’

      ‘Eleven,’ Spencer corrected her. ‘Twin boys died of pneumonia when they were babies.’

      ‘Oh, no.’

      ‘Yeah.’

      They were silent for a while.

      ‘Eleven names your mom had to think of,’ Kristina said thoughtfully. ‘I had difficulty thinking of one.’

      Spencer studied her face before he asked, ‘Did you have… reason to think of one?’

      ‘No, no,’ she said quickly. ‘But you know, people - boyfriends, girlfriends talk. I thought of Orlando. Or Oscar.’

      ‘These are not budgies, Kristina, these are babies. Oscar? Orlando?’

      ‘See what I mean?’

      ‘Don’t feel bad,’ Spencer said. ‘When I was born, my mother forgot she’d already named one of her sons Patrick O’Malley, so she named me Patrick O’Malley.’

      Kristina laughed.

      ‘I didn’t think it was so funny. Finally one of the kids told her. Not my brother Patrick, mind you. So she renamed me Spencer. Spencer Patrick O’Malley.’

      ‘After the actor?’

      ‘Yeah, Mom really loved Spencer Tracy.’ He paused. ‘I would’ve preferred Patrick.’

      Kristina, licking the tips of her fingers, stared at Spencer.

      ‘I like Spencer.’

      Tilting his head, Spencer said softly, ‘Well, thank you.’

      ‘What’s your mom doing now?’

      ‘Being a grandma. Eight of the nine children are married.’

      ‘They have lots of kids?’

      ‘You could say that. Twenty-one already. You know, be fruitful and multiply.’

      ‘God almighty. You really took to heart the multiply part.

      Are you…’ She paused. ‘… one of the married ones?’

      Why had Spencer steered the conversation this way? But once steered, he wasn’t going to be rude to this beautiful, curious, fresh-faced girl with black pools for eyes.

      ‘I was one of the married ones,’ he said slowly and quietly.

      ‘Ahhh,’ she said with an understanding look. ‘Didn’t work out, huh?’

      ‘You could say that. She died in a car accident.’

      Kristina put her hand to her mouth. ‘Oh, I’m sorry.’

      He waved her off. ‘It’s okay. It was tough at first. I’m learning to live with it now, you know. It’s been a few years.’

      ‘How many?’

      ‘Five.’

      ‘Is that why you left Long Island?’

      ‘Kind of,’ he replied.

      They sat. The waitress had brought the check, but they still sat there. Kristina made no move to go.

      ‘So what was her name, your wife’s?’ asked Kristina.

      ‘Andrea. Andie.’

      ‘That’s a nice name. Was she pretty?’

      Pausing for a few moments, Spencer reached into the back of his jeans and pulled out his wallet.

      ‘Aren’t you guys required to carry a weapon?’ Kristina asked, trying to look behind him.

      ‘Not off duty,’ Spencer said, showing her a picture of his Andie. ‘Here.’

      Kristina stared at the picture. ‘She looks so young,’ she said. ‘She looks kind of like… me.’

      ‘Really?’ said Spencer. ‘I hadn’t noticed.’ Was that just a coincidence that his Andie looked a little like this girl? Yes. Yes it was.

      While Spencer was paying, Samantha, the owner of EBA, came over to Kristina, patted her on the head, and said, ‘Great game last week, Krissyface. How many points?’

      ‘Forty-seven,’ said Kristina. ‘Fifteen rebounds.’

      ‘It’s almost not fair, is it? Those poor girls at Cornell, they just never win.’

      Smiling and getting up, Kristina said, ‘They’ll never win. As long as there is breath in my body.’

      ‘Atta girl!’ exclaimed Samantha.

      On the way out, Spencer whispered to Kristina, ‘I gotta come and see you play.’

      ‘Please do. We’re playing -’ She stopped. ‘A week after Thanksgiving. Friday and Saturday. Come then.’

      Sticking out her hand, Kristina said, ‘It was real nice to meet you, Spencer. Thanks for the muffin.’

      Spencer shook her hand gently. ‘Anytime, Kristina.’

      She looked at the clock outside Stinson’s. It read 3:45. Shaking her head, Kristina said, ‘Want you to know, I blew off basketball