Son of Stone (Stone Barrington 21)

Ben was dressed in black leather jeans and a jacket and a black T-shirt. What appeared to Stone to be some sort of satanic symbol hung from a chain around the boy’s neck. Like his father, Ben was of slight stature, but wiry. Introductions were made, and the boys shook hands solemnly, if not warily. They all sat down.

Ben gazed across the table at Peter’s tweed jacket and necktie. “You always dress like that?” he asked. “Or just when trying to impress adults?”

“Most of the time,” Peter replied, glancing at a menu. “The girls seem to like it.”

Stone and Dino exchanged a glance and rolled their eyes.

“I’m staying out of this,” Dino said.

“As am I,” Stone replied.

Peter nodded at the metallic object on the chain around Ben’s neck. “Isn’t that the Egyptian symbol for sexual impotence? Why are you advertising?”

Ben laughed in spite of himself. “He’s cool,” he said to Stone.

Stone and Dino stopped laughing long enough to order booze for themselves and sodas for the boys. Ben and Peter launched into a comparison of their schools and the girls available at each. They agreed that there was a dearth of such companionship, just as their respective headmasters had intended.

“I’m getting out in June,” Ben said.

“So am I,” Peter replied.

“What are your plans, college?”

“Not yet,” Peter said. “I have a plan, though.”

“Something you don’t want them to know about?” Ben asked, nodding at Stone and Dino.

“Pretty much.”

“Come with me,” Ben said. He got up and went to the bar, carrying his soda, and Peter followed. They entered into an intense conversation.

“Maybe this was a good idea,” Dino said.

“I think it was,” Stone said. He told Dino about their afternoon and the meeting with Leo Goldman, Jr.

“So the kid’s graduating from high school at sixteen? And I thought Ben’s getting out at eighteen was pretty good.”

“It is, Dino.”

“Trouble is, I don’t know if he’s mature enough to handle college. I’d like him to do something else for a year, but he’s not ready to be shipped off to Europe, either. What’s Peter going to do?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” Stone said, “but I think he’s telling Ben right now. Maybe he’ll get around to telling me later.”

“Where’s Arrington?”

“In the hospital.”

“Not the cancer thing again, I hope.”

“She doesn’t seem to be sure; they’re running tests. She’s supposed to call me tomorrow.”

“She looked fine a year ago in L.A.”

“She sure did. Peter thinks she’s just tired. She’s been building her new house in Virginia, and that’s hard work, even if you’re not wielding a hammer.”

“I guess.”

The two boys returned to the table and looked at the menu. “What’s osso buco?” Peter asked.