The Icon by Neil Olson Read Free Book Online Page B

concern was kindly, but anger rose in Andreas instantly.
    “You think I’m some old woman? I will get it myself.”
    “No, it’s all right.”
    “Black, no sugar,” Alex said from the bed.
    “Yes,” Andreas agreed, “your father knows. Thank you, my boy.”
    Then Matthew was gone, they were alone together, and Andreas no longer knew why he had schemed for this chance, what he had intended to say.
    “Fotis told me you would not see him at first.” He spoke Greek now.
    “Are you surprised?”
    “So much time has passed. Why do you cling to your anger?”
    “Do you think these things go away because time has passed? You would like to think that, wouldn’t you? That there is some clock on your sins, and when so much time elapses…”
    “We were not discussing my sins.” Andreas heard the hardness come into his voice, despite himself.
    “No? What were we discussing? My mind wanders, you see.”
    “Your happiness.”
    “My happiness, yes. Always a great concern of yours. Anyway, I saw him, so why hound me?”
    “Rini made you.”
    “I became too tired to fight about it, just like I am too tired to fight with you now.”
    “I don’t want to fight. I am grateful to you for seeing me.”
    Alekos seemed almost shocked, or played well at it.
    “You’re my father. You’re family.”
    “Fotis is family.”
    “Fotis is a relation. You are blood. Anyway, what am I going to say to Matthew, ‘Tell your grandfather to wait in the hall’?”
    “Once you might have done that.”
    “I had strength then.”
    “So is that the reason I am here? For Matthew’s sake?”
    “You know, this isn’t about you, old man. This is not about your forgiveness. This is about me. You came, God knows why. I don’t want to know your other reasons. You’re here. It’s right that you should be. Leave it alone now, don’t ask for anything else.”
    Alex slumped back on his pillows. Fool, Andreas scolded himself, stupid ass, exhausting him this way. Leave it alone, indeed.
    “Fotis is involving him in something,” Alex said. “About that damn icon. You know about it?”
    “I learned about it today.”
    “You’re not involved?”
    “No.”
    “How the hell would I know if that’s true?”
    “It’s true.”
    “Keep him out of it. Leave my son alone. Tell the schemer to leave my son alone.”
    “It’s for the museum. There is no harm in it that I can see.”
    “You think Fotis hasn’t arranged it somehow? The man has his fingers in everything.”
    “I do not see where the gain is for him. The museum getting the icon would be the end of his hopes for it.”
    “How can we know if it is that simple? Who told you about Matthew’s involvement?”
    “Fotis.”
    “And how did it seem to him? How did he feel about it?”
    Alex had a scientist’s mind, untrained in the ways of deliberate misdirection. This was no doubt one reason that he resented his father and uncle: not just because duplicity was so much a part of their lives, but because he himself was so easy to dupe.
    “Pleased,” Andreas answered.
    “I am not a spy, of course, but when that man is pleased about something, I worry. Keep my boy out of it.”
    “It’s for his work.” Work was the closest thing to sacred to Andreas.
    They heard Matthew’s voice in the corridor, speaking quietly to the nurse. Alex leaned forward again, straining.
    “At least speak to him. Tell him the history.”
    Andreas’ mouth was dry. How much of the history did Alex know? Who told him? Not Fotis. Maria? Himself, some forgotten evening long ago? His son was staring hard at him.
    “No, you can’t do that, can you? Just tell him to stay out of it, then. Do that for me. He won’t listen to his father, but he will listen to you.”
    “I’m not so sure.”
    Matthew walked back into the room.
    “Will you do that for me, old man?”
    A dozen calculations collided in Andreas’ brain, all of them unsolvable with his son’s face looking at him that way.
    “I will speak to