The aspect of the Nick Forte novels I am most often complimented on is the relationship between Nick and his daughter, Caroline. Caroline is growing up – she’s in high school now, playing in the marching band – but Nick isn’t any less protective. He struggles with it, knowing she has to learn how to take care of herself, but the Cone of Protection still exists.
From Chapter 3:
I met up with Caroline and her buds
outside the band room. The plan was for me to drive Tyler and Joanna home
before Caroline and I made the 45-minute trek to Bolingbrook.
Caroline had a better idea. Even I
thought so.
“Can we get ice cream?”
We’d made this improvisation before.
“You girls know the drill,” I said to her friends. “Send your mom or dad a text
to ask, then show me they said it was okay.”
Apparently they had me pegged as a soft
touch; the requests were already approved. Both girls nearly broke my nose
shoving cell phones in my face
Sundae School was busy, not packed. I
bought sundaes for all three girls – typical, and a primary reason I’m so
popular when it comes to giving rides – and a milkshake for myself. I always
got milkshakes when playing chauffeur, on the off chance we’d have to leave
before I was ready. It’s hell to eat a sundae and drive at the same time.
I took my shake far enough away for them
to be sure no eavesdropping took place. Tyler’s father got himself busted six
months earlier and had yet to redeem his reputation. I maintained a line of
sight so they wouldn’t have to find me when it was time to go.
Twenty minutes later two boys/young men
I’d noticed sitting in a far corner made a detour on their way out to pass near
my charges. No big deal. The boys looked like high school seniors or college
freshmen. For all I knew they were friends or relatives of one of the girls.
A couple of minutes later Tyler’s and
Joanna’s body language stiffened. Caroline was still cool, but she knew I was
close and would handle anything too uncomfortable. The other girls had no such
assurance.
These were always awkward situations. My
first impulse was to go over and sort these boys out, but the girls needed to
learn how to deal with social dilemmas; my best role was safety net. I finished
my shake and was watching the situation play out when Caroline peeked over her
shoulder in my direction.
I moved with an unhurried stride. Tossed
my empty cup in a trash bin on the way over. Took each boy by an elbow to steer
them past the girls’ table and toward the door.
This produced the expected reaction.
“Hey! What the fuck, man?”
“Who the hell are you?”
I didn’t speak until we cleared the
door. Kept my voice in the register Caroline calls menacing. “I’m
conducting a survey and want to ask you a couple of questions.”
These were Arlington Heights toughs,
which meant South Side ten-year-olds would steal their lunch money before
pantsing them. The taller one said, “You’re not going to like the answers if
you don’t turn us loose, asshole.”
“First question: do either of you know
what it’s like to eat soup through a straw for…I don’t know. Six to eight
weeks? However long it takes a broken jaw to heal.”?”
Not the question they’d expected.
“Uh…no.”
“Second and last question: would you
like to find out?”
For sure not what they expected. All I
got were head shakes.
“Then fuck off.”
And off they fucked.
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