Red Dragon (Hannibal Lecter 1)

“Late last night.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“Mamamma was probably asleep.”

“No, she was watching Johnny Carson. I can’t tell you, Will. I’m so glad you didn’t have to catch him.”

“I’ll be here a little longer.”

“Four or five days?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe not that long. I want to see you, kid.”

“I want to see you too, when you get through with everything you need to do.”

“Today’s Wednesday. By Friday I ought to—”

“Will, Mamamma has all Willy’s uncles and aunts coming down from Seattle next week, and—”

“Fuck Mamamma. What is this ‘Mamamma’ anyway?”

“When Willy was real little, he couldn’t say—”

“Come home with me.”

“Will, I’ve waited for you. They never get to see Willy and a few more days—”

“Come yourself. Leave Willy there, and your ex-mother-in-law can stick him on a plane next week. Tell you what—let’s stop in New Orleans. There’s a place called—”

“I don’t think so. I’ve been working—just part-time—at this western store in town, and I have to give them a little notice.”

“What’s wrong, Molly?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. . . . I got so sad, Will. You know I came up here after Willy’s father died.” She always said “Willy’s father” as though it were an office. She never used his name. “And we were all together—I got myself together, I got calm. I’ve gotten myself together now too, and I—”

“Small difference: I’m not dead.”

“Don’t be that way.”

“What way? Don’t be what way?”

“You’re mad.”

Graham closed his eyes for a moment.

“Hello.”

“I’m not mad, Molly. You do what you want to. I’ll call you when things wind up here.”

“You could come up here.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not? There’s plenty of room. Mamamma would—”

“Molly, they don’t like me and you

know why. Every time they look at me, I remind them.”