Regaining her trust and respect had been yet another hurdle to overcome. At the time he had no choice - an undercover job is an undercover job and if his orders were to tell no one, so be it. Eames should have understood that more than anyone. That episode in their history was catalytic; it had shifted the dynamics of their amazing partnership to another dimension. Deep down he felt she had overreacted but he let it ride, taking it like a real man – that was Bobby Goren to a fault. Since that time she was the one setting the pace and tone and he had no problem with that either; he respected her for it. Now, however, she was trying to manipulate their new situation - emotional blackmail was not pretty, yet his fondness for her was proving to be a weakness, a blind-spot, especially since he took the flak for the circumstances they were in; he truly blamed himself.
They both had a right to be angry – initially. All those years of dedicated service - no hero’s departure in a salvo of bullets – no martyrdom to their cause – no parting medals of honour – no sweet words of praise for jobs well done. She vehemently believed they’d been stabbed in the back. They had never craved or needed thanks and rewards but their muted exit bore little parallel to their successful record in Major Case.
On his part the Detective was, at long last, resigned and relieved. He had been unhappy for some time; he had simply not cared to admit it to anyone or confront it himself. The mourning period was indeed over.
Eight phenomenal years together; of course she held a special place in his heart. He welcomed and enjoyed her sassy, snarky remarks - but not lately. She was still mad as hell. Leaving Major Case had never been part of her master-plan. Not surprisingly certain powers that be in the FBI were now making attractive overtures to her. He knew that ultimately it would be in her best interests to seriously consider their offer but first she’d have to cool down. It really was time for her to move on too. That was the difference; he’d bellow and rage and it was done – she’d harbour a grievance and brood till kingdom come.
Whilst she deliberated her long-term future, she had other pressing plans for the short-term, dragging an unwilling Goren with her. There were occasions - some might have said too few and others too many – that the Detective’s style had been rather unusual to say the least. Despite that he did technically manage to stay - just - on the right side of the law. She had come to accept and understand and even admire him for it.
Her present behaviour smacked of paranoia. She was being irrational, illogical, out of character and off the wall. Her current madcap schemes went beyond even his dubious boundaries. He’d never seen her like this before. She said she had nothing to lose. That wasn’t true!
~~~~~~~~~~
Eames smartly told the Detective’s wife she’d call her back and let her know.
“What’s the joke?” she snorted.
“The joke, Eames, is that my darling wife is up to something.”
“… and?”
“… and nothing. You know…” he sighed impatiently, “I will get out here unless I can make you change your mind and turn back. I don’t recommend you go it alone.”
“Bobby Goren you’re a wimp and a coward. I never thought I’d ever say that to you, but you are,” she glared stonily at him.
He looked her straight in the eye. “… and I’m unarmed! I never thought I’d say to you that what you’re about is mad, bad and dangerous… and plain stupid. For goodness sake, you were always the grounded one in this partnership. What happened to you?” His words came out slowly, softly, sensitively.
In crashing silence and screeching wheels she turned the car round. The weather outside was bright and warm; inside the vehicle the temperature gauge plunged to freezing point. She dropped him off across from his building caustically reminding him she’d see him later. He didn’t answer. Never had he run from her so fast. She felt one hundred per cent she was doing the right thing and she didn’t care how she went about it. Loudly to emptiness she cursed him. “Damn him! Damn that Bobby Goren daring to prick my conscience!”
~~~~~~~~~~
His wife was lowering the blind against the glaring afternoon sun when she saw him dashing across the road wearing a grim expression. She welcomed him with a shot of his finest Balvenie; he gratefully downed it in one. A second melted the knots in his shoulders and when he picked up the baby his whole body visibly relaxed. She smiled at him relieved to see it returned.
“Alex can’t babysit tonight,” he said, searching her face for a giveaway clue.
Shit, she thought to herself but merely replied, “That’s a shame.”
“If you like, we could all go out for an early-bird.”
“No thanks. I thought it’d make a pleasant change. You know, just the two of us, me in my LBD,” her eyes shining at the memory, “and you smart casual head to toe in black - sexy. Remember those days? You know a little romance, a little rock’n’roll.”
“Sorry Honey.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll find someone else to babysit.” Her bright eyes challenged his. He didn’t flinch. He quietly said, “Actually I would rather not tonight, but I’ll make it up to you, promise.”
Hmm… she thought; he said wouldn’t not couldn’t. “Bo-bby?”
“Yeah.”
“You won’t mind if I go out alone then? You can babysit. What are your rates?” she teased him.
Oh how he admired her tenacity – a dog with a bone! “One, you shouldn’t have to pay the daddy, but if you insist I charge in kind,” he grinned, “and two, yes I will mind,” the grin purposely gone!
“… but I need a change of scene from the apartment and the playground. I need to breathe in this town. I need to get dressed up. I need to feel like a woman again. I need…”
He loved to see her lower lip gently pout. He thought he knew where this was going. Next maybe a little foot stomping. Since the baby’s arrival she had been good, too good; he’d forgotten how much he missed this. Devilishly he added fuel to the fire. “No, I won’t let you and I know what you need,” trying to be firm.
“Well, I wasn’t actually asking your permission. I can do what I like.” Her right foot tapped in frustration.
How pleasing this was from earlier events. At home with his family; little Robert trying to crawl and discover fresh territory, delighted with every new touch and taste and him winding up his wife. The making up was always so special; a little hug, a nip on her neck, a pat on the bottom or his tongue down her throat and she’d soon forget what it was all about. He hoped he hadn’t lost his touch.
“Honey, what part of no didn’t you understand?” It was barely an audible whisper in her ear as he gently pulled her into his arms prepared to tame the tiger in her.
“No, no, no, you don’t understand!” She violently pulled away from him.
The penny dropped. She had tried to be subtle – it didn’t work. She wasn’t playing games with him. She was deadly serious. She wanted him home - or with her - tonight.
“Hannala?”
He rarely called her that. The hushed tone, the probing inflection, said it all. He leant his head to one side and engaged her eyes. She readily responded and looked anxiously into his. He didn’t have to say another word. They understood each other perfectly.
She pulled the slip of paper from her pocket and handed it to him.
The furrows on his brow deepened; his teeth sank into his bottom lip.
This was bad, very bad. In this instance knowledge, any knowledge, would be dangerous. He was alarmed, afraid; he feared how much she knew.
By Ann.
Wednesday 28 July 2010
Sunday 25 July 2010
CHAPTER 11 - REVELATIONS
Bobby and Alex sat in silence. After what felt like forever, Bobby asked, “More coffee?” Alex shook her head. Again, silence. It was deafening. Suddenly Alex leaned forward and lightly rested her hand on his. Bobby saw concern in her eyes; she saw surprise in his. Alex waited a beat, holding Bobby’s eyes and spoke, “I just don’t want you to be hurt.” Bobby could not stop from speaking his first thought, “Why?” Never moving her hand off his, she answered, “Because I care for you. Bobby, you are one of the finest men I have ever known with so many desirable traits,” was her quick response. When she heard herself say these words, it was her turn to drop her eyes as she moved her hand off his. It seemed like forever, and then Bobby reached over and took both of her hands in his. He gently caressed the back of her hands with his thumbs. He cleared his throat and started talking. “When they first paired us, I knew it was your job to keep an eye on me.” He gave a half smile and continued, “I do tend to be unconventional at times. You always accepted me for me. You have always, always been there for me.” He chuckled softly and continued, “Except a couple of times.” Alex frowned and looked up at him. Bobby squeezed her hands as he said, “You are very special to me and I care for you.” His voice came out in a whisper, “More than you’ll ever know.” They sat in silence, looking at each other. It seemed like eternity.
Finally, Bobby asked, “Sure you don’t want more coffee?” Alex shook her head, “I need to go. I promised my sister I would keep my nephew while she and her husband catch dinner and a movie.” They stood and walked out on to the sidewalk. “I’ll walk you to your car.” They walked in silence, both lost in thought about the afternoon. When they reached her car, he took the keys, unlocked the door and opened it. They smiled shyly at each other. Finally, Alex got in the car and Bobby leaned in. Just inches from her face, Alex looked into his rich chocolate eyes and her mind raced. “Oh god, please don’t let him know what I’m thinking.” Bobby told her “I’ll call you soon. Maybe we can have dinner.” Alex found her voice and told him, “I’ll look forward to it.” Bobby straighten up, stepped back as Alex started the car. He watched as she pulled in to traffic and turned the corner. Bobby promised himself “very soon” as he headed toward his car.
As he drove home, he replayed the information on Louise. He knew something and would have never mentioned it unless she knew it to be fact. Bobby knew the center cost more, much more, than the donations received. And of course, Louise picked up the slack, as she had in so many times with other projects. Louise being Louise would never admit to the financial squeeze, but even an heiress could go broke. As for working a crowd, Louise Gardener was a master. He had witnessed her telling tales of doom and gloom to the city’s blue-haired society crowd. She could have the whole room in tears and could turn on the water works herself. Yeah, she was good, very good. Deep in his heart, Bobby knew Alex’s information was pretty much on target. He recalled when Louise contacted him; he was drowning in feelings of abandonment and hopelessness. Her call gave him hope. Passions once again awakened. The passion for the opportunity to give back to his city as he had in Major Case. Then he met her-young, beautiful, vivacious Louise. Other passions had stirred. Bobby chastised himself for a serious lapse in good judgment. If he had been that careless when he worked the beat, he would have never survived. He shook his head to clear that very unsettling thought.
As he pulled on to his street, his thoughts turned to Alex. As partners, it was not unusual to spend 10-12 hours together, sometimes more. They had learned to read each other, anticipate each other-she more than him. They were good together, both sharing a deep passion for their work. This time Bobby’s heart jumped as he reacted to the term passion. His mind raced as he scolded both his mind-and body. He finally concluded that only time would tell and reminded himself “patience is a virtue.”
Bobby walked in to the apartment, grabbed a bottle of water and flopped down on the couch. He groped around, found the TV remote between the cushions and began surfing the channels. He stopped on the SyFy channel to watch one of his favorites, “Impostor”. After the final credits rolled, he hoisted himself off the couch and grabbed a quick bite to eat. He read for about an hour then decided to get ready for bed. He walked to the bedroom and turned on the bedside lamp. He turned down the bed, undressed and crawled in. He picked up the book and continued to read. Around 10:30, he turned off the lamp and closed his eyes. He was asleep in minutes.
Bobby had pleasant dreams of Alex and not so pleasant ones of Louise. When the alarm went off at 6:30, he hit the snooze button eking out another ten minutes. As the alarm resounded, he sat up and put his feet on the floor before silencing it. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He finally stood and headed to the bathroom. He showered and shaved before he went to the kitchen for breakfast. He searched the ’frig and found a stale bagel, but then again, how can you determine if a bagel is stale? He had to smile at the thought as he warmed it, smeared on cream cheese and poured a cup of coffee. He padded back to the bedroom to get dressed. When he was ready, he picked up his keys off the desk and eased out the door.
By Lynn.
Finally, Bobby asked, “Sure you don’t want more coffee?” Alex shook her head, “I need to go. I promised my sister I would keep my nephew while she and her husband catch dinner and a movie.” They stood and walked out on to the sidewalk. “I’ll walk you to your car.” They walked in silence, both lost in thought about the afternoon. When they reached her car, he took the keys, unlocked the door and opened it. They smiled shyly at each other. Finally, Alex got in the car and Bobby leaned in. Just inches from her face, Alex looked into his rich chocolate eyes and her mind raced. “Oh god, please don’t let him know what I’m thinking.” Bobby told her “I’ll call you soon. Maybe we can have dinner.” Alex found her voice and told him, “I’ll look forward to it.” Bobby straighten up, stepped back as Alex started the car. He watched as she pulled in to traffic and turned the corner. Bobby promised himself “very soon” as he headed toward his car.
As he drove home, he replayed the information on Louise. He knew something and would have never mentioned it unless she knew it to be fact. Bobby knew the center cost more, much more, than the donations received. And of course, Louise picked up the slack, as she had in so many times with other projects. Louise being Louise would never admit to the financial squeeze, but even an heiress could go broke. As for working a crowd, Louise Gardener was a master. He had witnessed her telling tales of doom and gloom to the city’s blue-haired society crowd. She could have the whole room in tears and could turn on the water works herself. Yeah, she was good, very good. Deep in his heart, Bobby knew Alex’s information was pretty much on target. He recalled when Louise contacted him; he was drowning in feelings of abandonment and hopelessness. Her call gave him hope. Passions once again awakened. The passion for the opportunity to give back to his city as he had in Major Case. Then he met her-young, beautiful, vivacious Louise. Other passions had stirred. Bobby chastised himself for a serious lapse in good judgment. If he had been that careless when he worked the beat, he would have never survived. He shook his head to clear that very unsettling thought.
As he pulled on to his street, his thoughts turned to Alex. As partners, it was not unusual to spend 10-12 hours together, sometimes more. They had learned to read each other, anticipate each other-she more than him. They were good together, both sharing a deep passion for their work. This time Bobby’s heart jumped as he reacted to the term passion. His mind raced as he scolded both his mind-and body. He finally concluded that only time would tell and reminded himself “patience is a virtue.”
Bobby walked in to the apartment, grabbed a bottle of water and flopped down on the couch. He groped around, found the TV remote between the cushions and began surfing the channels. He stopped on the SyFy channel to watch one of his favorites, “Impostor”. After the final credits rolled, he hoisted himself off the couch and grabbed a quick bite to eat. He read for about an hour then decided to get ready for bed. He walked to the bedroom and turned on the bedside lamp. He turned down the bed, undressed and crawled in. He picked up the book and continued to read. Around 10:30, he turned off the lamp and closed his eyes. He was asleep in minutes.
Bobby had pleasant dreams of Alex and not so pleasant ones of Louise. When the alarm went off at 6:30, he hit the snooze button eking out another ten minutes. As the alarm resounded, he sat up and put his feet on the floor before silencing it. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. He finally stood and headed to the bathroom. He showered and shaved before he went to the kitchen for breakfast. He searched the ’frig and found a stale bagel, but then again, how can you determine if a bagel is stale? He had to smile at the thought as he warmed it, smeared on cream cheese and poured a cup of coffee. He padded back to the bedroom to get dressed. When he was ready, he picked up his keys off the desk and eased out the door.
By Lynn.
Wednesday 21 July 2010
At Home with the Goren’s - After Major Case – Part II
Surprisingly Bobby had weathered his earlier losses with more ease than this one. For sure he missed his mother, she had been a major part of his life but she was so very sick and it was the natural order. Then, as much as it hurt to admit, his brother had lived with a death wish. Who would have ever guessed Bobby’s nemesis would have granted it; that beautiful and brilliant but profoundly disturbed woman who had kept the Detective on his toes and his wife looking over her shoulder. Her interference in their life had become burdensome and dangerous and his old demented mentor had taken care of her. Now he was meant to be free. He was; free and untethered - drifting aimlessly.
Time was a healer – and reflection and introspection - and the Detective began to accept that some things were bigger than him and beyond his control. This latest upset though had turned out to be the biggest bereavement of them all. It had hit him hard.
From the outset he had insisted he handle it his way and she respected that; he was a grown man with a mind of his own. It only started with gentle suggestions; she had contacts, she could open doors for him and sometimes it is a case of who you know. He sweetly ignored her until one day, reading about a convoluted trial in the newspaper, she casually commented, “You know, Carver was right, you’d make an exceptional lawyer.”
From nowhere he turned on her, angrily saying, “Butt out of my business!” She had clearly pushed a button. His face contorted and his jabbing finger backed her into a corner. When he saw her hands raised to protect herself, he crumbled in pieces to the floor.
“I, I, I would never, never hurt you,” he cried.
“I know you wouldn’t.” She slid to the floor beside him and rocked him in her arms. “It was only a passing remark – conversation, you know. I’m sorry.”
“I, I do have some ideas, nothing concrete, not yet.”
“What are they?”
She felt the vibration of his cell. He grabbed it and broke away from her.
“Who is it?” she asked.
He didn’t answer her; he answered the phone and retreated to his cave. It wasn’t long before Eames showed up and wordlessly joined him, firmly shutting the door behind her - and shutting his wife out.
Honey stood there. Her bewildered thoughts were interrupted by the sweet sound of ‘dadadada’ coming from the nursery. She gathered up her little bundle and whispered in his soft warm ear, “At least I know you love me! Let’s go to the park and leave them to it.”
Now that spare time had been forced upon him, Bobby often joined them on their morning stroll. He was a real hands-on daddy; it warmed his wife’s heart and soul to see father and son together. The baby was the only one who truly lifted Bobby’s broken spirit.
They were gone about an hour when little Robert demanded food. He could be inconsolable and grumpy until the first spoon of something pureed hit his tongue – like father, like son. She dashed back to the apartment and ran into the study knowing Bobby would more than willingly entertain him whilst she warmed up the baby’s lunch. What she didn’t expect to find was her husband and his ex-partner in a clinch.
She was momentarily frozen; they didn’t even notice her.
Back in the kitchen the baby was bawling and her own tears were slowly sliding down her nose unchecked. By the time Bobby emerged to see what the commotion was about his son was happily filling his mouth and hands and hair and the highchair and the floor. Honey kept her head down. She was obviously not the object of his concern.
She heard Alex’s parting words, “… see ya soon” and the sound of the front door closing behind her. She didn’t know what to do; whether to confront him or let it go. Her immediate dilemma was solved when he promptly popped his head round the kitchen door and abruptly announced he was going out.
After the baby settled down for his afternoon nap, she entered the one part of their home that was hallowed ground – his male domain – his sanctuary - his study. It was kept in meticulous order, unlike their bedroom and bathroom where he just dropped everything, safe in the knowledge she would pick up in his wake.
Bobby Goren was thorough, but maybe, just maybe, for once he may have overlooked something. She logged on to his email – did he know she knew his password? Nothing looked untoward although she didn’t really know what she was looking for; just assumed something would jump out at her and say, “Hey this is what you want to know!”
She riffled through his drawers; mostly unfiled bills and statements, cuttings, instruction manuals and lots of baby pics. His beloved and battered binder gave up nothing either. She was about to give up herself when on an impulse she looked at the notepad next to the telephone. The top sheet was blank but heavily scored. She took a soft pencil and delicately traced the lines. John Smith - a euphemism surely - and a phone number - some more numbers - an address uptown - a time and date - tonight 9.00 p.m. She placed the scrap of paper in the pocket of her jeans.
The Detective’s wife (could he still be called Detective – old habits die hard) was enterprising and intrepid and not one to shrink from responsibility or intrigue, at least not in business. Her sticking point could be her husband. She did love him. She did trust him. But she was never sure, even now, of his feelings. Was it love or lust? She’d been there before; sex was fine and frequent, but she felt that was all she was good for; he didn’t seem to be sharing much else with her these days.
Oh how everyone thought her the lucky one, nabbing Detective Bobby Goren for herself – but life with him wasn’t that easy. She knew she was flawed, but he was also far from perfect.
The Detective (yes - he will always be that) jumped into the waiting car at the corner and together they drove off. She had always liked to be in the driver’s seat. Maybe her way of being in control in that particular partnership, but surely it was different now they had both left Major Case; one pushed the other having jumped.
“Eames, I’m not comfortable with this!”
She shot him a glance, her narrow lips soberly turned down, no trace of a smile or acknowledgement of his misgivings.
They drove some way and he repeated himself; the car screeched to a halt.
“Get out if you want Goren; I’ll go without you.” At that moment Eames’ phone shrilled. She didn’t bother to check caller ID; it was not the call she was expecting.
“Alex?” a sweet voice asked. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to you earlier. How are you?” She covered the mouthpiece and whispered to him, “It’s your wife!” He frowned. She set the phone to loudspeaker.
“I’m fine. What’s up?”
“Would you do me a big favour? I know you’ve offered before. I want to take Bobby out – just the two of us – just for an hour or so - and wondered if you could babysit, say around 9.00 tonight.”
“Hold on a sec, I’m driving.” She turned to Bobby; her lips pursed; she sat there shaking her head.
He dragged his fingers through his greying curls, clenching his knuckles behind his head and stared out the window, a hidden smile slowly creeping over his face.
By Ann.
Time was a healer – and reflection and introspection - and the Detective began to accept that some things were bigger than him and beyond his control. This latest upset though had turned out to be the biggest bereavement of them all. It had hit him hard.
From the outset he had insisted he handle it his way and she respected that; he was a grown man with a mind of his own. It only started with gentle suggestions; she had contacts, she could open doors for him and sometimes it is a case of who you know. He sweetly ignored her until one day, reading about a convoluted trial in the newspaper, she casually commented, “You know, Carver was right, you’d make an exceptional lawyer.”
From nowhere he turned on her, angrily saying, “Butt out of my business!” She had clearly pushed a button. His face contorted and his jabbing finger backed her into a corner. When he saw her hands raised to protect herself, he crumbled in pieces to the floor.
“I, I, I would never, never hurt you,” he cried.
“I know you wouldn’t.” She slid to the floor beside him and rocked him in her arms. “It was only a passing remark – conversation, you know. I’m sorry.”
“I, I do have some ideas, nothing concrete, not yet.”
“What are they?”
She felt the vibration of his cell. He grabbed it and broke away from her.
“Who is it?” she asked.
He didn’t answer her; he answered the phone and retreated to his cave. It wasn’t long before Eames showed up and wordlessly joined him, firmly shutting the door behind her - and shutting his wife out.
Honey stood there. Her bewildered thoughts were interrupted by the sweet sound of ‘dadadada’ coming from the nursery. She gathered up her little bundle and whispered in his soft warm ear, “At least I know you love me! Let’s go to the park and leave them to it.”
Now that spare time had been forced upon him, Bobby often joined them on their morning stroll. He was a real hands-on daddy; it warmed his wife’s heart and soul to see father and son together. The baby was the only one who truly lifted Bobby’s broken spirit.
They were gone about an hour when little Robert demanded food. He could be inconsolable and grumpy until the first spoon of something pureed hit his tongue – like father, like son. She dashed back to the apartment and ran into the study knowing Bobby would more than willingly entertain him whilst she warmed up the baby’s lunch. What she didn’t expect to find was her husband and his ex-partner in a clinch.
She was momentarily frozen; they didn’t even notice her.
Back in the kitchen the baby was bawling and her own tears were slowly sliding down her nose unchecked. By the time Bobby emerged to see what the commotion was about his son was happily filling his mouth and hands and hair and the highchair and the floor. Honey kept her head down. She was obviously not the object of his concern.
She heard Alex’s parting words, “… see ya soon” and the sound of the front door closing behind her. She didn’t know what to do; whether to confront him or let it go. Her immediate dilemma was solved when he promptly popped his head round the kitchen door and abruptly announced he was going out.
After the baby settled down for his afternoon nap, she entered the one part of their home that was hallowed ground – his male domain – his sanctuary - his study. It was kept in meticulous order, unlike their bedroom and bathroom where he just dropped everything, safe in the knowledge she would pick up in his wake.
Bobby Goren was thorough, but maybe, just maybe, for once he may have overlooked something. She logged on to his email – did he know she knew his password? Nothing looked untoward although she didn’t really know what she was looking for; just assumed something would jump out at her and say, “Hey this is what you want to know!”
She riffled through his drawers; mostly unfiled bills and statements, cuttings, instruction manuals and lots of baby pics. His beloved and battered binder gave up nothing either. She was about to give up herself when on an impulse she looked at the notepad next to the telephone. The top sheet was blank but heavily scored. She took a soft pencil and delicately traced the lines. John Smith - a euphemism surely - and a phone number - some more numbers - an address uptown - a time and date - tonight 9.00 p.m. She placed the scrap of paper in the pocket of her jeans.
The Detective’s wife (could he still be called Detective – old habits die hard) was enterprising and intrepid and not one to shrink from responsibility or intrigue, at least not in business. Her sticking point could be her husband. She did love him. She did trust him. But she was never sure, even now, of his feelings. Was it love or lust? She’d been there before; sex was fine and frequent, but she felt that was all she was good for; he didn’t seem to be sharing much else with her these days.
Oh how everyone thought her the lucky one, nabbing Detective Bobby Goren for herself – but life with him wasn’t that easy. She knew she was flawed, but he was also far from perfect.
The Detective (yes - he will always be that) jumped into the waiting car at the corner and together they drove off. She had always liked to be in the driver’s seat. Maybe her way of being in control in that particular partnership, but surely it was different now they had both left Major Case; one pushed the other having jumped.
“Eames, I’m not comfortable with this!”
She shot him a glance, her narrow lips soberly turned down, no trace of a smile or acknowledgement of his misgivings.
They drove some way and he repeated himself; the car screeched to a halt.
“Get out if you want Goren; I’ll go without you.” At that moment Eames’ phone shrilled. She didn’t bother to check caller ID; it was not the call she was expecting.
“Alex?” a sweet voice asked. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to you earlier. How are you?” She covered the mouthpiece and whispered to him, “It’s your wife!” He frowned. She set the phone to loudspeaker.
“I’m fine. What’s up?”
“Would you do me a big favour? I know you’ve offered before. I want to take Bobby out – just the two of us – just for an hour or so - and wondered if you could babysit, say around 9.00 tonight.”
“Hold on a sec, I’m driving.” She turned to Bobby; her lips pursed; she sat there shaking her head.
He dragged his fingers through his greying curls, clenching his knuckles behind his head and stared out the window, a hidden smile slowly creeping over his face.
By Ann.
Sunday 18 July 2010
CHAPTER 10 - BAD NEWS
Bobby’s headache had gone from explosive to a dull ache. And the nausea had been replaced by occasional queasiness. Physically he might not be at a hundred percent but he was decidedly better than what he was earlier. He dressed in jeans and a tee shirt and sat on the side of the bed to tie his shoes. A wave of queasiness had him closing his eyes and stretching out on the bed. As he rode it out, his mood darkened. He thought about his friends and realized that he spent the years distancing himself from them. His buddies would call, wanting to meet for a beer and he would refuse citing the present case was consuming all his time. He thought about the women he had dated. A few had been special. Early in the relationship, they would attend the theater or a concert, go dining and dancing, or just sit and talk. Occasionally, they enjoyed the “fringe benefits” of their relationship. But eventually things cooled. Too much silence; too many plans cancelled. Then he thought about his mother whose illness started distancing him from her when he was just a boy. His brother whose poor decisions drove a wedge between them. He thought of his career, which he had worked tirelessly, trying to right so many of the city’s wrongs. And now there was Louise Gardener. Was he fated to live the rest of his life in this private hell? Was there no one who understood him? Suddenly he opened his eyes and thought “Eames.” The one person who understood his feelings, his moods. Him. Bobby Goren.
He sat up and reached for the phone. He jerked his hand back and rubbed the back of his neck as he debated if he should call. “What the hell”, he thought, “there’s nothing wrong with touching base with her. After all, we were partners for eight years.” Bobby picked up the phone and punched in Eames’ number. One ring; two; three. “Come on, answer,” he urged. Four; five rings. Bobby held his breath then released it when he heard Alex pick up. “Hello,” she answered. “Eames, its Bobby. I just thought I would call and see how you’ve been.” After a moment of silence, Alex replied, “Bobby. It’s good to hear from you.” Bobby smiled to himself. They chatted for a few minutes, avoiding any mention of Major Case. Finally, Bobby asked, “Do you think we could, um, meet for coffee sometime?” “Sure, name the time and place,” replied Alex. He answered, “Well, how about 2:30” and named a small coffee shop they both were familiar with.
Around 1:15, Bobby changed and headed toward the coffee shop. He arrived around 2:20 and scouted out a quiet booth toward the back of the shop. About five minutes later, Alex walked in. Bobby stood and walked toward her. He felt awkward and put his hands in his pockets. Alex put her hand on his forearm and asked, “So, how are you doing?” He nodded and replied, “Good. And you?” “Fine, Fine”, she answered. Finally, Bobby said he would order the coffee and pointed to the chosen booth. Alex walked back to the booth and slid in. Bobby paid for the coffee, walked over, then slid in on the bench facing her. As they sipped their coffee, Alex congratulated Bobby on the opening of the center. He gave a shy smile and thanked her. “That was quite a ceremony; lots of important people there,” she commented. Bobby’s eyebrow shot up and he asked, “You were there?” She nodded and took a sip of coffee, “I came with my friend, Tom,” she explained. Bobby swallowed hard, “I didn’t know that you and Tom…” his voiced trailed off. “We’re not,” she interrupted, “we’re just friends”. After what felt like hours, he said “I didn’t see you there. Why didn’t you come over and say hello?” Alex smiled and shook her head and answered, “I’m not surprised you didn’t see me. You never took your eyes off your new boss.” He blushed deeply and dropped his head. “Was it that obvious?” “Oh yeah”, she answered. “Look Bobby, It’s none of my business, but Louise Gardener is not what she appears to be,” she retorted. Bobby was quick to counter, “Alex, I researched her before I ever went for the interview. She’s sterling.” She grimaced and shook her head, “When you write your own press, it’s easy to appear, as you say, sterling. Look Bobby, I’m not trying to upset you, but the woman is bad news. Please, be careful.”
Bobby opened his mouth to comment but thought better of it. Alex would never misrepresent anything to him. But what did she know? It was as if she read his mind. “Miss Gardener has a history of “creating” some wonderful causes. And she knows how to work a crowd, gaining financial and emotional support. The cause thrives for a time, and then she pulls her support leaving a wake of ruined hopes and dreams not to mention the heartbreak of those who believed the hype. Bobby looked at her stricken. After a few moments, Alex asked, “What are you thinking about Bobby?” He dropped his eyes, shrugged his broad shoulders and answered, “Lots of things, Alex, lots of things."
By Lynn.
He sat up and reached for the phone. He jerked his hand back and rubbed the back of his neck as he debated if he should call. “What the hell”, he thought, “there’s nothing wrong with touching base with her. After all, we were partners for eight years.” Bobby picked up the phone and punched in Eames’ number. One ring; two; three. “Come on, answer,” he urged. Four; five rings. Bobby held his breath then released it when he heard Alex pick up. “Hello,” she answered. “Eames, its Bobby. I just thought I would call and see how you’ve been.” After a moment of silence, Alex replied, “Bobby. It’s good to hear from you.” Bobby smiled to himself. They chatted for a few minutes, avoiding any mention of Major Case. Finally, Bobby asked, “Do you think we could, um, meet for coffee sometime?” “Sure, name the time and place,” replied Alex. He answered, “Well, how about 2:30” and named a small coffee shop they both were familiar with.
Around 1:15, Bobby changed and headed toward the coffee shop. He arrived around 2:20 and scouted out a quiet booth toward the back of the shop. About five minutes later, Alex walked in. Bobby stood and walked toward her. He felt awkward and put his hands in his pockets. Alex put her hand on his forearm and asked, “So, how are you doing?” He nodded and replied, “Good. And you?” “Fine, Fine”, she answered. Finally, Bobby said he would order the coffee and pointed to the chosen booth. Alex walked back to the booth and slid in. Bobby paid for the coffee, walked over, then slid in on the bench facing her. As they sipped their coffee, Alex congratulated Bobby on the opening of the center. He gave a shy smile and thanked her. “That was quite a ceremony; lots of important people there,” she commented. Bobby’s eyebrow shot up and he asked, “You were there?” She nodded and took a sip of coffee, “I came with my friend, Tom,” she explained. Bobby swallowed hard, “I didn’t know that you and Tom…” his voiced trailed off. “We’re not,” she interrupted, “we’re just friends”. After what felt like hours, he said “I didn’t see you there. Why didn’t you come over and say hello?” Alex smiled and shook her head and answered, “I’m not surprised you didn’t see me. You never took your eyes off your new boss.” He blushed deeply and dropped his head. “Was it that obvious?” “Oh yeah”, she answered. “Look Bobby, It’s none of my business, but Louise Gardener is not what she appears to be,” she retorted. Bobby was quick to counter, “Alex, I researched her before I ever went for the interview. She’s sterling.” She grimaced and shook her head, “When you write your own press, it’s easy to appear, as you say, sterling. Look Bobby, I’m not trying to upset you, but the woman is bad news. Please, be careful.”
Bobby opened his mouth to comment but thought better of it. Alex would never misrepresent anything to him. But what did she know? It was as if she read his mind. “Miss Gardener has a history of “creating” some wonderful causes. And she knows how to work a crowd, gaining financial and emotional support. The cause thrives for a time, and then she pulls her support leaving a wake of ruined hopes and dreams not to mention the heartbreak of those who believed the hype. Bobby looked at her stricken. After a few moments, Alex asked, “What are you thinking about Bobby?” He dropped his eyes, shrugged his broad shoulders and answered, “Lots of things, Alex, lots of things."
By Lynn.
Thursday 15 July 2010
After Major Case
He said he’d be back early. She was excited – a precious night home together. It had been too long! He also mentioned a surprise. She wondered what it could possibly be. She tried to exercise patience – not in her nature really, although she was getting better. The evening wore on and still he wasn’t home and his cell was on voicemail. No point in leaving a message, she thought. He’ll think she was nagging, or worse, and if he bothered to look he would see her missed call(s)! She tried to stay up but in the end she couldn’t fight her best friend Morpheus – she needed her sleep. She had an early start – every day was an early start.
He removed his size 13’s and tiptoed into the apartment assuming she would be mad at him; he wouldn’t blame her. She didn’t normally worry what time he got home; she knew with plenty of caffeine he could exist on little sleep and she trusted him - now. He knew it had been a mistake to call her earlier – he did it automatically. This news he had to tell her face to face.
She was sleeping. It never failed to arouse him the way she lie on her tummy, one arm swinging out the side of the bed, the other slung above her head and her bottom in the air. Her tussled hair and makeup free face, clean and shiny, gave her the appearance of a schoolgirl.
His emotions were a mess; he really was happy the way things had worked out. No he wasn’t, he was damn furious and bloody mad. Still it was for the best, he guessed. No it wasn’t, now what would he do with himself? He was filled with pent up rage; filled with alcohol and filled with a burning thirst that had to be slaked. Better his wife than the company he had been keeping earlier.
He slipped the sheet from her body and dragged her down the bed. He wasn’t all mean, he tested the water, so to speak, and found it pleasingly wet and warm and welcoming… and still she slept, stirring slightly. His first thrusts were deep and long and urgent and she groaned, “You monster! Is this your surprise?” but she didn’t stop him. His next were tender and loving; he growled - she purred – they kissed.
He felt so much better and slept soundly curled around her soft round curves; she was his comfort blanket.
She was woken by her early morning call. Once summoned, she brought her other monster into their bed. There were some things even beyond the brilliant Bobby Goren’s capabilities. He sat up and proudly watched them together; the loves of his life. Whilst the baby contentedly fed, she asked what the surprise was. His face clouded over, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
What he meant was he didn’t want to upset her – not yet.
“When you’re done, do you want to go out for breakfast?”
He didn’t have to ask her twice; she wouldn’t turn that treat down, but his motive wasn’t altogether altruistic. He didn’t want them to be at home when he told her the latest. He wasn’t sure if there would be a scene remembering her reaction to his suspension. She loved having him home - it was the reason behind it. In her opinion he lived that one too close to the edge for comfort and he didn’t have the decency to tell her what he was up to and there was another life he should have been thinking about. She was right on all three counts.
“What about work – guess ‘cos you pulled a late one you can…” she interrupted his thoughts.
“Yeah, yeah.” He stopped her short and made a dive for the shower. Beneath the pounding water he rehearsed the many ways he would break the news. As successful and resourceful as she was, he was not prepared to be a kept man. She can argue her pretty head off as much as she likes, this man has some pride and he wants to support his wife and child.
They found a quiet booth in the corner café – Robert Jnr obligingly slept in his stroller. Bobby toyed with his coffee and played with his food and watched in wonder as Honey’s fork jumped from one plate to another. He admired her hearty appetite – even stress didn’t stop her – quite the reverse in fact. Suddenly he blurted out, “I’ve been fired!”
Her fork halted midway between table and mouth; she choked on her omelette.
“I don’t believe it!”
His head hung waiting for the onslaught, as if he wasn’t already pissed off enough. He was in no mood for an argument.
“Bobby, look at me.”
She took his hand and softly said, “We’ll get through this fine, we really will. Honey, are you okay with it?”
Now he was annoyed with himself. He had no right to assume she would give him grief. Sure in those early years she used to run rings round him, but he’d given her a hard time too. Theirs had not been an easy marriage, not then, but their lives had changed; they had grown up surviving loss and worse. Things would work out – they always do.
She was upset for him. He had devoted himself to the Major Case Squad and they had the nerve to get rid of one of their finest. He was their finest. He was the best. He is still the best. He will always be the best. What was this city coming to?
“Great, that means I get you all to myself…” she quipped trying to lighten the tone. “And what about Alex?”
“She’s the one who did it.”
“I don’t believe it!”
“You’re repeating yourself.”
“I’m sorry Bobby, but…”
“Listen, believe it,” he said gravely. “They promoted her, gave her the task of kicking my butt and then she quit.”
“Well their loss is my gain. So what’s the plan?”
Bobby scratched his beard and shook his head. “I’m sure you’ll think of something for me to do my love.”
She saw him nervously play with his wedding band and wondered what he really had up his sleeve.
By Ann.
He removed his size 13’s and tiptoed into the apartment assuming she would be mad at him; he wouldn’t blame her. She didn’t normally worry what time he got home; she knew with plenty of caffeine he could exist on little sleep and she trusted him - now. He knew it had been a mistake to call her earlier – he did it automatically. This news he had to tell her face to face.
She was sleeping. It never failed to arouse him the way she lie on her tummy, one arm swinging out the side of the bed, the other slung above her head and her bottom in the air. Her tussled hair and makeup free face, clean and shiny, gave her the appearance of a schoolgirl.
His emotions were a mess; he really was happy the way things had worked out. No he wasn’t, he was damn furious and bloody mad. Still it was for the best, he guessed. No it wasn’t, now what would he do with himself? He was filled with pent up rage; filled with alcohol and filled with a burning thirst that had to be slaked. Better his wife than the company he had been keeping earlier.
He slipped the sheet from her body and dragged her down the bed. He wasn’t all mean, he tested the water, so to speak, and found it pleasingly wet and warm and welcoming… and still she slept, stirring slightly. His first thrusts were deep and long and urgent and she groaned, “You monster! Is this your surprise?” but she didn’t stop him. His next were tender and loving; he growled - she purred – they kissed.
He felt so much better and slept soundly curled around her soft round curves; she was his comfort blanket.
She was woken by her early morning call. Once summoned, she brought her other monster into their bed. There were some things even beyond the brilliant Bobby Goren’s capabilities. He sat up and proudly watched them together; the loves of his life. Whilst the baby contentedly fed, she asked what the surprise was. His face clouded over, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
What he meant was he didn’t want to upset her – not yet.
“When you’re done, do you want to go out for breakfast?”
He didn’t have to ask her twice; she wouldn’t turn that treat down, but his motive wasn’t altogether altruistic. He didn’t want them to be at home when he told her the latest. He wasn’t sure if there would be a scene remembering her reaction to his suspension. She loved having him home - it was the reason behind it. In her opinion he lived that one too close to the edge for comfort and he didn’t have the decency to tell her what he was up to and there was another life he should have been thinking about. She was right on all three counts.
“What about work – guess ‘cos you pulled a late one you can…” she interrupted his thoughts.
“Yeah, yeah.” He stopped her short and made a dive for the shower. Beneath the pounding water he rehearsed the many ways he would break the news. As successful and resourceful as she was, he was not prepared to be a kept man. She can argue her pretty head off as much as she likes, this man has some pride and he wants to support his wife and child.
They found a quiet booth in the corner café – Robert Jnr obligingly slept in his stroller. Bobby toyed with his coffee and played with his food and watched in wonder as Honey’s fork jumped from one plate to another. He admired her hearty appetite – even stress didn’t stop her – quite the reverse in fact. Suddenly he blurted out, “I’ve been fired!”
Her fork halted midway between table and mouth; she choked on her omelette.
“I don’t believe it!”
His head hung waiting for the onslaught, as if he wasn’t already pissed off enough. He was in no mood for an argument.
“Bobby, look at me.”
She took his hand and softly said, “We’ll get through this fine, we really will. Honey, are you okay with it?”
Now he was annoyed with himself. He had no right to assume she would give him grief. Sure in those early years she used to run rings round him, but he’d given her a hard time too. Theirs had not been an easy marriage, not then, but their lives had changed; they had grown up surviving loss and worse. Things would work out – they always do.
She was upset for him. He had devoted himself to the Major Case Squad and they had the nerve to get rid of one of their finest. He was their finest. He was the best. He is still the best. He will always be the best. What was this city coming to?
“Great, that means I get you all to myself…” she quipped trying to lighten the tone. “And what about Alex?”
“She’s the one who did it.”
“I don’t believe it!”
“You’re repeating yourself.”
“I’m sorry Bobby, but…”
“Listen, believe it,” he said gravely. “They promoted her, gave her the task of kicking my butt and then she quit.”
“Well their loss is my gain. So what’s the plan?”
Bobby scratched his beard and shook his head. “I’m sure you’ll think of something for me to do my love.”
She saw him nervously play with his wedding band and wondered what he really had up his sleeve.
By Ann.
Saturday 10 July 2010
CHAPTER 9 - ONLY A DREAM
Lynn has sent a new chapter for the story, which I absolutely love.
Bobby sat straight up in the bed. His head pounded, his stomach rolled & he broke out in a cold sweat. He looked at the clock-5:30 AM. Things didn’t seem right-at least not as he remembered them. He got up, padded to the bathroom where he downed two aspirin. He went back to the bedroom and took one look at the bed and decided it must have been a rough night. The sheets were un-tucked, the covers thrown back. Bobby half-heartedly straightened the linens and stretched out on the bed.
His mind wandered back to the center’s opening last night. He remembered the center was nearly full with dignitaries, celebrities and community leaders. He also remembered Louise’s grand entrance on the back of Sam Deed’s motorcycle dressed in the skin tight leather pants, jacket, five inch heeled boots and her dismount from the cycle. As she strutted toward him, he felt the green eyed monster of jealousy whack him on the back of the head and asked him what he was going to do. And there were other feelings too. Bobby had no idea what to do but he did know his feelings were out of control. He was totally infatuated with Louise. He searched his mind for what else happened. He finally decided that maybe a shower would help clear his mind. He walked slowly to the bathroom, adjusted the water, stripped off his boxers and stepped into the shower. Jeez’ he never knew water could make such noise, each drop sounded like the crack of a rifle in his head.
He showered in short order, wrapped the towel around his waist and headed toward the kitchen. He turned on the coffee maker and decided to try a couple of pieces of dry toast. He opted for black coffee and filled a large mug, rescued his toast from the toaster (the timer went out on it months ago), padded to the living room and sat down on the couch. He savored his coffee and nibbled on the toast. “Think Bobby, think” he said to himself, “what happened last night”. He had always prided himself in being detailed oriented and in control, but he had to admit he was failing miserably at the present.
About that time the phone rang. Bobby’s head felt like it exploded. He caught it on the second ring. His first attempt to speak was low and hoarse. He cleared his throat, which didn’t help his head, and tried again. “Hello” he said. Cheerfully Louise’s voice chirped, “Good Morning! Sooo, how are you feeling this morning?” Bobby’s first thought was “There’s no reason for anybody to be that damn cheerful in the morning” He cleared his throat again and said “I’ve had better days. Sorry I’m running late. I’ll be in shortly” Louise replied, “Don’t worry about it. Just get over the hangover and tomorrow we will discuss the new project. I really want your input.” They talked (actually Louise did most of the talking) about the center’s opening. Finally Bobby interrupted Louise incessant chirping with the question “Louise, what else happened last night?”
“Well, if you really want to know”, she responded, Bobby swallowed hard and closed his eyes in dread.
“Let’s see,” Louise began. “Do you remember after the ceremony, you and I stayed to clean up?” Bobby hesitated then replied, “Yeah. And?” Louise continued “I challenged you to a drinking contest. Who could drink the most tequila shots before getting buzzed.” “I guess I showed you,” he replied. Louise laughed and it made Bobby’s heart jump. “I stopped at four or five. You were still throwing them back. I lost count but between the two of us we polished off almost two bottles of tequila. You know Goren, I figured you could hold your liquor better than that.” Bobby grunted and rubbed his forehead. Louise continued with the story, “Well, you were knee-walking drunk by the time Sam and his fiancée arrived to take me home. Anyway Sam drove you home in your car and she and I followed in her car. We finally got you in the apartment and got you to bed.”
After several moments of awkward silence, Bobby swallowed hard and said, “Um, Thanks.” Louise chucked that throaty chuckle that made Bobby catch his breath, “You’re welcome,” she answered. She continued “Well, I need to get off the phone and let you nurse that hangover. Remember; drink plenty of liquids, liquids of the non-alcoholic kind.” Again that chuckle than was hers and hers alone. The phone clicked off.
Bobby held the receiver to his ear for a few more moments before he placed it in the cradle. He sat quietly and finished his coffee. He slide forward on the couch, leaned back and rested his head on back of the couch. His eyes filled as he thought about the death of his mother, his brother, the circumstances in which he left Major Case. He mulled over the conversion with Louise. Marriage, doting on children, grandchildren and growing old with the love of his life was not his to own. A tear ran down his cheek. It was ONLY A DREAM.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)