- •The Intersection of Law and Desire
- •I let her sit in silence for a few moments before repeating, “What do they have on you?”
- •I hesitated for a second, embarrassed at what came to mind. “Oh, hell. Jerking off,” I finally admitted.
- •I felt a touch of slickness between my legs. “I’m wet,” I acknowledged.
- •I brushed some of the water out of my hair, hoping it would spot her leather interior and muttered, “Whoever said, ‘Better late than never’?”
- •I would be seeing Cordelia tomorrow, I suddenly realized. And myself in the mirror later tonight. I gently removed Karen’s arms from around my neck.
- •I picked up her bike rack and my duffel bag with my oh so beloved running shoes, while Cordelia managed her bike and gear. After locking up, we headed down to put the bike on her car.
- •I turned sharply around to scan the road. “Nope. Not a Rolls in sight. The snootiest car visible is a Cadillac. And it’s not even this year’s model. I don’t think they’re watching you right now.”
- •I watched them as they pedaled away, Torbin riding abreast with Cordelia. She was nodding her head to something he was saying. Then a line of trees hid them from my view.
- •I stopped. Clearly we needed to have more than a one-sided conversation. Joanne looped back to me.
- •I shrugged noncommittally.
- •I nodded as I waited by the passenger door for her to open it.
- •I grinned at his use of tv cop show cliché, then said, “I’ll do what I can. I’ll call you as soon as I’ve got something to report.”
- •I didn’t recognize the desk sergeant. I introduced myself, then bantered a bit about the Saints’ chances for the playoffs this year.
- •I opened it and started reading, although I knew it would back him up. Bill did paperwork until I decided I had read all of the autopsy report that I cared to. I handed the file back to him.
- •I didn’t need to look around to know that Joey had arrived.
- •I let my disapproval hang in the silence for a long moment. “Eight months? And you’re just now wondering about it?”
- •I decided that sniping at each other wasn’t going to be helpful. “What do you do to calm her fears?”
- •I installed the night-light next to Cissy’s bed, then stayed up reading until a little after three, but no one stirred. Maybe the night-light would keep away Cissy’s fears.
- •I gave her a quick rundown while driving out of the airport maze. Then I asked the question I had been wanting to ask. “What do you know about child psychology?”
- •I shrugged, met her gaze for a moment, then looked away. “What do we do?” I demanded.
- •I stood gazing out the window to avoid looking at her while she packed up.
- •I nodded yes.
- •I thought for a moment. Barbara Selby couldn’t afford anything like it. Then I remembered the money Karen was paying me.
- •I decided to do some work on my one paying case and dialed Torbin’s number.
- •I didn’t reply, instead I crossed my arms and looked away from him.
- •I knelt beside Cissy. “I think I like the blue one the best. Which one do you like?”
- •I nodded, then said, “I’m glad you noticed.”
- •I nodded, then added, “I’m not asking for your money back.”
- •I started to ask her about Lindsey, but realized that I was picking at scabs, scratching and irritating them.
- •I sat next to her, taking her hand between both of mine. “Now tell me about your day.”
- •I shuddered beneath Cordelia’s embrace, warmth a fragile and fleeting thing.
- •I didn’t answer. I slowly leaned back into her embrace. Warm and alive and not in immediate pain seemed to be all that I could offer her.
- •I watched Cordelia as she spoke. She believed what she said, but if I gave in to her wishes, then the power became hers and I would have to trust that she would not use it.
- •I turned and led the way to the kitchen.
- •I quickly hurried down the stairs and out of the courtyard, feeling ragged and torn, unwilling to have her voice leave another mark on me.
- •I looked again at the matchbook. “Heart of Desire” was scripted in gold on a black background. Some of the gold lettering had begun to chip.
- •I said, “What are you working on? We might—”
- •I reluctantly gave him the number to Cordelia’s clinic.
- •I sat for a moment before finally replying, “I need to talk to a lawyer first.”
- •I put the black binder back on o’Connor’s desk, a faint unsettled queasiness rolling in my stomach.
- •I thought for a moment. Legally it would probably be Aunt Greta, but she was the last person I’d want involved. “I guess my cousin, Torbin Robedeaux.”
- •I watched Joey walk out of the bar. The fish had taken the bait. But look what usually happens to bait. I didn’t drive by Cordelia’s apartment on my way out of the Quarter.
- •I held my temper. Joey was playing with me, testing my limits. “I like men. I even love some men. I just get real bored with them when they take their clothes off.”
- •I started to say it wasn’t her money but her mortal soul that I was worried about, but Joey wouldn’t understand and I was beyond explaining it.
- •I turned into the driveway of Lindsey’s office.
- •I finally broke the silence by asking, “Is she okay?”
- •I knew she was right. Law and justice aren’t the same thing. “Is she okay? How badly hurt is she?”
- •I spun on my heel, angry at her. Then I turned back and said as gently as I could, “If you need my help, you know my number. Call me anytime.”
- •I headed in the direction he had indicated. For a moment, the sound of our footsteps mingled, then his faded into the distance and mine alone echoed.
- •I nodded and he continued.
- •I looked at the floor for several moments before I finally answered, “For a while. I lived there…I couldn’t get away from him.” Then I said, “I’d prefer to talk about something else.”
- •I spent most of the weekend at my apartment. No one called me, and I called no one.
- •I nodded slowly, but made no other reply.
- •I climbed into the backseat.
- •I got down to business. “So when does the ceiling fall on Zeke’s head?”
- •I handed the last box to Mr. Unfriendly, then hopped out of the truck. Zeke led the way back into the building. Mr. Silent followed me, closing the door on the cool night.
- •I gave both Betsy and Camille my phone number. Then, with Camille running interference, we headed back downstairs.
- •I didn’t know what to do except respond. I had not expected this. I had come up with dozens of scenarios, but none of them had included Lindsey kissing me.
- •I shrugged, then since she was fronting the money, answered, “No, not for you, it shouldn’t be.”
- •I crossed my arms over my chest, a barricade of sorts. “I need a shrink’s advice,” was my opening. “How do you say no when someone’s making a sexual advance that you’re not sure you want?”
- •I said nothing. I didn’t think Lindsey deserved the accident, but that was a road she had to walk.
- •I felt a surge of jealousy. I knew I wasn’t Cordelia’s first lover, but that wasn’t the same thing as hearing Lindsey describe this.
- •I checked the gun. It was loaded. I suddenly turned and pointed it at Algernon. He stopped and merely looked at me.
- •In the alley you will meet your escort to the boat. That way no one can follow you or recognize your car.
- •I switched it on and found the path into the dark woods.
- •I took one of the pay packets out and waved it in Vern’s face. Then I said, “I don’t pay sexist assholes. You want your money, you’d better deal with me.”
- •I didn’t. That was the horrible thing. “Load up the kids,” I said, to buy time. Maybe if I got enough men out of here I could chance pulling my gun.
- •I held the kiss a little longer, giving her time to get the key securely under her tongue. Then I broke it off. I wondered what Cordelia was thinking.
- •I padlocked the door. It would keep them in, but it would also keep the crew out.
- •I handed it to Ron, and said, “Thanks a lot. I’ve got to get these kids to bed now. It’s almost midnight and they’re very tired.”
- •I lifted the next girl. She was silent, asking no questions, expecting nothing. Cordelia was helping me now, we both put the next two girls in at the same time. Then in silence, the last two.
- •I aimed at him and fired.
- •I told my tale as best I could, still waiting for word on Cordelia and the kids.
- •I just shrugged, terrified to lift my barricades. I couldn’t admit how desperately I wanted to revive the time when I was sure she loved me.
- •I looked at Cordelia. Usually we’re locked in our own world, our own needs and desires. Cordelia had just let me into a place where she was small and scared. “I’m so afraid of you,” I admitted.
- •I let the tension ease out of me and closed my eyes.
- •I got up to leave. His money could buy many things. A lesson in the cost of betrayal was one of them. Francois had made his choices.
- •I ignored that. “Why do you think Francois won’t betray you?”
- •I started to point out that was clichéd, too, but decided that Kessler wasn’t interested in knowing that. I didn’t talk.
- •I slammed my heel into his instep, causing him to howl in pain.
- •I didn’t know if Barbara was asking a rhetorical question or asking me about myself. I answered as if it were the latter, “The memory remains. Don’t silence her. Don’t ever blame her.”
- •I watched them as they went down the hall, not wanting to go with them. Instead, I walked back the way I came, giving Barbara and Cissy time to find their way home.
- •I didn’t look back as we drove away.
I didn’t answer. I slowly leaned back into her embrace. Warm and alive and not in immediate pain seemed to be all that I could offer her.
“Of course, that backed up all the rest of my patients. Then I had to go to the police and give a statement. God, it’s been a long day.”
“What can I do?” I asked.
“Nothing. Not a damn thing. ‘All the king’s horses and all the king’s men…’” She trailed off.
Can’t put broken lives together again, I thought as I tightened my arms around her. We sat that way, silently, for a while.
“Have you had anything to eat lately?” I asked at last, wanting to get back to the small things, the ones I could do something about.
“No, I don’t guess I have. Not since breakfast.”
“Let me see what I can find in the kitchen,” I said, starting to get up.
“You’re not my cook.” It came out as a reprimand. Cordelia added in a softer voice, “Why don’t we just order something?”
“Well, then, order whatever you want. I don’t have much money.”
“Look, Micky, I’m not comfortable with you serving me. You’re always the one who cooks or goes to the grocery store. Sometimes you even do my laundry.”
“And I’m not comfortable with you spending money on me.”
“Money’s just paper. Time is the equalizer. We all have only twenty-four hours a day. Money’s not the same. Some people have a lot, some very little. Luck, that’s all.”
“What about hard work and the American dream?” We were heading for an argument. I could see it coming, but I could see no way to stop it, like a stone falling off a ledge, no way to push it back.
“Sure, some people have money because they’ve worked hard. But there are some people who’ve worked just as hard and have nothing, not even the bare necessities. My money doesn’t equal your time. I don’t care to pretend that it does.”
I watched Cordelia as she spoke. She believed what she said, but if I gave in to her wishes, then the power became hers and I would have to trust that she would not use it.
“I should just take your money and get over it?” I retorted.
Cordelia massaged her forehead for a moment, then replied, “Yes, why not?”
“Because I’m not that kind of person and, if I were, you wouldn’t be with me,” I shot back.
“I’m not talking about buying your soul. Or a house, or car, or even a goddamned jacket. I’m talking about spending somewhere in the vicinity of ten dollars on buying us a pizza or po-boy. It’s not worth the kind of argument we’re having.”
“It’s not the amount, it’s the idea. As long as it’s your money, it buys what you want. I’ll never have…”
“Control? Is that what’s bothering you?”
“If you were in my position, wouldn’t it bother you?”
Cordelia was at least honest enough to reply, “Yes, I suppose it would. Where does that leave us?”
“Let me see if I can find something quick and simple to fix and, if not, you can order out?” I turned to go to the kitchen.
“All right,” Cordelia replied. “But let me help.”
I turned and led the way to the kitchen.
“And,” Cordelia said from behind me, “I promise not to sneak up on you.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I shouted, wheeling on her. As I lost control, I realized how fragile it had been in the first place.
“Micky,” Cordelia said, halting abruptly at my anger, holding in the archway to the kitchen. “I think we need to talk about this.”
“Don’t sneak up behind someone. That’s common courtesy. That’s all there is to it.”
“Your reaction when I tried to put my arms around you had nothing to do with manners. I’m not a shrink and I don’t play games well.”
“I’m not playing. This is my fucking life that you think should be open to you at will. What if I don’t think we need to talk about this?”
“What do you intend to do? Keep repressing your anger and letting it spew out in all directions when you can’t keep it in any longer?”
“I thought you said you weren’t a shrink.”
“I can see what’s obvious. And you’re obviously very touchy and angry about—”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it. What the fucking hell do I have to do to get that through your head?” I snarled at her, my voice ugly and threatening.
For a moment, Cordelia was taken aback, but then she said, “Can’t you see it’s gone beyond whether you want to talk about it or not? It doesn’t have to be me—”
“Maybe your friend Lindsey?” I cut in.
“Maybe,” Cordelia replied evenly. “Or someone else. I won’t be ambushed by this kind of anger. It’s not me. At least have the courage to fight those who deserve it.”
“I guess I’m leaving, then,” I said, brushing past her. She didn’t try to stop me.
“Micky,” Cordelia called out as I reached the door. “I do love you.”
“What’s love got to do with any of this?” I mocked.
“Not much. But it’s the only weapon I have.”
“I just need to…be alone. I’ll call you sometime.” But I wasn’t sure if I meant it.
“Good night, Micky.”
“Goodbye,” I replied, then closed the door behind me.