“It was a lovely party, dear,” said Sophie, although she could see something was wrong when she looked into Bill’s eyes. “Need someone to listen?” she asked.
Bill smiled at her and made a gesture, his hand slicing across his throat and a squawky sound coming from his lips.
“Well, maybe it’s for the best,” she said, knowing instantly what he meant. “Want us to stick around a while?” Bert stood by her side, and although he was tired, he said nothing.
Bill hugged his neighbor and said, “Oh no, thanks though. We’re leaving too in just a couple minutes.”
“Okay then, it’s up this hill to our car. If you want to stop by later, I’ll be up for a while.”
Bill smiled at Sophie and watched her and Bert go up the tall hill that led from the pier to the street. He didn’t know if they’d parked on the pier itself, on the street, or in one of the nearby lots but it was a bit of a trek and he hoped they’d parked on the pier.
He gazed off into the distance, where a few feet away Laura had raced over to a young couple who were smoking. They peered into her eyes, growing more and more alarmed, not so much because of her message but because she was becoming so emotional that she sounded almost unhinged.
“Oh no, you’re smoking. Please! Think about what you’re doing. You could lose your life, lose each other. Everything would be over. Dead. I’m talking final here, final, end, no more, nothing more, completely over and dead.”
Without a word, the couple turned and raced away, their pace becoming more rapid with each step. Laura observed them and began weeping, and she stumbled toward the carousel as Bill walked toward her and took her in his arms.
Her sobbing grew more pronounced, her breath ragged, her words coming in breathy gasps. “Control was all I wanted. I thought if I could make a difference, make them stop smoking, then at least I could feel I had a handle on something, was doing something, getting something right, something good.” Then she laughed, sobbed some more, and sniffled, saying, “Fighting the devil.”
Bill dabbed at her eyes with his handkerchief.
Laura sobbed and wheezed a bit, saying, “But there is no control. I should know that by now after all these years with Kevin.”
“Ah honey,” said Bill, cleaning up her streaky face with his handkerchief.
“Do you think I married him so I could face all this? Face that there’s never any control? Face that there’s no safety?” She took the handkerchief and mopped at her eyes then resumed sobbing. “If I could live with Kevin all these years, maybe I don’t need as much control as I thought.”
“Ahhhh, honey it’s okay. You’ll be okay. Come here.” Bill wrapped his arms around Laura and held her tightly until the sobbing turned into an occasional sniffle. Then she dabbed her face again and blew her nose. They sat down together on a couple of chairs and just tried to breathe for a while.
“Are you going to leave him?” Bill asked.
“I don’t know.”
“The two divorce thing?”
“Maybe I’ll just let him see me snuggling in bed a few times with the puppy. Drive him totally over the edge.”
They both laughed as Laura continued, “Here I am sobbing all over you, and you’re in the same boat I am.”
Bill shrugged. “You know—I don’t actually feel that bad. I keep waiting for it to sink in, but all I can think of is two things. First, JoEllen is dead. She’s not coming back. And second, Chrissy is history. Thank God!” He stopped to think for a moment and realized he’d been right earlier—everything had changed tonight, just not in the way he’d expected but somehow it was all right. “You know—I gained fifteen pounds since she moved in.”
They both laughed and Laura said, “Be glad it was you. If she’d gained weight from living with you, she probably would’ve hired a couple thugs to murder you.”
“No kidding!” Bill smiled and shook his head then his voice grew softer, “So I guess I’m back to square one again. All alone.”
“You’re so much better off without her. She was just a diversion. Someone else will come along. You’ll see. And you’ll be happy again. In love again.”
Bill looked into Laura’s eyes and grew dazzled by what she was saying. Happy again. In love again. Compelling words. As if entranced, he reached over to kiss her, which she assumed was a peck on the cheek but as soon as she realized what he was about to do, Laura leapt up and stared at him, her hands on her hips.
“What are you doing?”
“I thought…you looked so…it seemed like….”
“Good God, Bill, you’re doing it again—this time trying to plug me in for JoEllen. That’s not right.”
“No, wait, I don’t think so.” He reached for her again but she jumped back.
“For God’s sake, are all you men the same?”
“But it’s been so wonderful spending this time with you, and I felt, I felt….”
“Of course you’ve enjoyed it—all we do is talk about JoEllen. I’m like a conduit to her. And that’s fine because we’re friends. But why would I want to be with someone who just wants me to remember his wife with him. That’s not love. Love is you see someone and you can’t remember anyone else, not even JoEllen.”
“Ah geez I’m sorry,” said Bill.
“Forget it. That was one hell of a crappy party.”
Bill laughed. “Yeah, let’s get the kids and go home.”
There was a benefit to infidelity despite the obvious, Kevin thought. The time he was spending mentally calculating the penance he’d have to pay, the gifts he’d have to buy, the promises he’d have to make in order to keep his wife in line, had completely taken his mind off the traveling circus of psychosis that driving along Sunset Boulevard had become. He almost laughed. How had he let himself become so paranoid? Just this afternoon he was peering to the left and to the right like a pony express driver deep in Indian country. Surely it was just some crazy coincidence. After all what had that teeny bopper in blue said—the car he was certain was after him was the most popular car on the road. Or the most popular SUV. Something like that. Come to think of it, he’d been through so much lately. He was in a precarious mental state because of this presumed harassment, and that might make sense to Bill when he went in to confront him about this rift between them. Yes, he’d have to kiss some hairy ass, do some genuflecting, make some threats too. He could hire a lawyer too, for sure he could threaten that. After all, Chrissy wasn’t Bill’s wife and the point could be made that Kevin’s temporary insanity had saved Bill from a terrible fate—marriage. Bill was a reasonable man and Kevin could probably make him see it that way.
Or he could say it was Chrissy’s fault. He was there just to do a good deed, to pick up his partner’s girlfriend for a surprise party and how could he know she would force him to have sex with her? That was another kind of surprise, one he wasn’t ready to defend against. In his state of hysteria, how could he be responsible for his actions? Kevin took a deep breath, and he realized he was starting to feel a lot better. Things were looking up. And then Kevin too looked up and there they were—again—almost neck and neck with him in a single lane. How did the cars not crash?
Something in Kevin snapped. He wasn’t going to take this any longer. First his partner’s girlfriend practically rapes him, his partner threatens him with shysters, his wife looks at him like he’s garbage and now this—well somewhere he had to draw the line.
“Okay, motherfucker,” he said, enraged, “See how you like it!” And he sped up, and wow did the Porsche respond like a dream—worth every penny he’d paid for it, and then, just like one of those steely race car drivers, he spun the car around and now he was the one chasing that demented asshole. “Take that, you piece of shit,” he said with much satisfaction, although of course the windows were closed and nobody heard but him. Maybe he should open the window so they’d hear what he had to say—just before he ran them off the road. Yeah, justice at last. The chase continued with the hunter becoming the hunted or so
it seemed in Kevin’s imagination.
“The worm has turned,” exclaimed Butch grimly, as her hands tightened on the steering wheel. She and Wimp exchanged one frantic glance.
Butch endeavored merely to stay ahead of the Porsche. This was emphatically not part of the plan. The cars sped along, a rare string of green lights allowing them to race forward, and Butch managed to keep from being rammed although the squealing of wheels caused Wimp to cover his ears during the moments when he wasn’t covering his eyes.
But then a rental car pulled between them, clearly driven by someone from out of state, lost, flustered and clueless about how to remain alive behind the wheel in Los Angeles. It took mere moments for that driver to lose control of his vehicle and spin off the road and down a small embankment in front of one of the multi-million dollar homes.
“Enough!” shouted Wimp, and he reached for the wheel and turned it hard and although Butch glared, she managed to steer the car onto a side road and then down a ways out of the action. Then she stopped the car to catch her breath.
“That’s it! It’s over. We’re going home, right now. Move it!” said Wimp forcefully.
Butch’s jaw dropped and instinctively she reached for the crop beside her, but before she could grasp it, he had snatched it from her, easily snapping it in two across his thigh. He tossed it defiantly in the back seat and glared at her, his jaw rigid, his eyes steely.
Butch felt something inside her quiver a little, a new sensation, one she found enticingly erotic. “Oh, Glenn,” she said, leaning in toward him.
He raised one eyebrow, extended his hand and pointed a finger in front of him. “Home I said. Now.”
Kevin saw none of this although he was parked by the side of the road, observing the rental car buried deep in some expensive shrubbery. Did they have only one cop on Sunset Boulevard, that’s what Kevin was wondering now, because true to his luck today, there was Officer Snotty Pants, and as a tow truck arrived to extricate the rental car and then, to Kevin’s astonishment, to confiscate his Porsche, he shook his head. Clearly this day couldn’t get any worse. That was when Billy the Kid handcuffed him and shoved him in the back seat of his cop car. Was everyone against him? Was there no justice, no rationality? Where was the serenity, that’s what Kevin wanted to know. Where was the decency? Where was that fucking Honda?
In short order Kevin stood like a common criminal, being fingerprinted, and wiping his hands on his pants like some thug.
“It’s digital, pal, no ink,” said the station cop ruefully. “You know, doc, you coulda just paid the fines. All these outstanding tickets really worked against you. You’re just lucky they didn’t hold you overnight.”
Kevin was aghast. “Pay fines? Like hell I will. I’m fighting this all the way. Supreme Court here I come. Someone is chasing me off the road and some infant who became a cop like yesterday gives me ticket after ticket—I don’t think so.”
The cop shook his head. He’d seen it all, but never before had anyone involved in a car crash played the Supreme Court card. At least the guy wasn’t drunk although he did smell strongly of chocolate, and what was that other smell? Gummy bears? Maybe it was some sugar rush induced manic incident. It could happen, he supposed. “Okay, fine. Here’s what you need. Court date on Monday. Eventually they’ll release the car to you, after all this is settled.”
Kevin accepted some documents from the cop and said, “What?”
“Assault with a deadly weapon—your car—it’s a serious charge.”
“That little pissant,” said Kevin. “Can I go now?”
“Do you need me to call you a cab?”
Laura had refused Bill’s offer to stay at his place for the night and insisted she’d be fine at home, precisely where she wanted to be, so he watched her drive away and sat for a moment outside his house to talk to the kids. He didn’t want them to be shocked when they got inside, or sad about what had happened.
“I guess you noticed Chrissy wasn’t at the party even though it was supposed to be for her,” he started calmly. His voice was balanced and he hoped he could keep it that way so the kids would feel safe and not get upset. They had to be told and he had to remain steady for them. Both kids shrugged as he continued, “Chrissy won’t be there when we get inside. She’s not going to live with us any more. I guess you’d say we broke up. Sometimes these things happen with grown-ups. I just want you to know how sorry I am about everything. Nothing’s more important to me than the two of you, and I really hope you know that. Yes things will change, but I’ll still be here and you can count on me to take care of you, not just today but always. And we’re still a family, you know that, right? No matter what, we’ll always be a family.”
“Thank God,” said Will, “I was worried you might marry her. I could picture you dead and me pushing her in a wheel chair toward some old folks’ diet center.” He shuddered.
“So you’re not upset it’s just us again?” Bill asked surprised, although on some level he knew he shouldn’t feel that way.
“Hey Dad she’s nuts.”
“Jessica says it was a midnight crisis,” added Candy.
“Why didn’t you tell me all this sooner? I mean I knew you had misgivings but not to this extent.”
“Jessica was afraid to shock you in such a delicate condition,” Candy said seriously.
“Jessica is certainly a very deep young lady,” said Bill, smiling. “And how does she have all this life wisdom, I wonder.”
“Oh her mom’s boyfriend’s some kind of doctor. Wait, wait, I know what it is.” Candy squinted and wiggled her hands, trying to bring up the word she couldn’t remember.
“That guy her mom’s dating’s a doctor? That young guy who calls everyone dude? No, I don’t think so,” said Will. “He’s barely older than me.”
Bill looked up in shock at what he was hearing. Jessica’s mom had some boy toy in what, high school? No, that couldn’t be true. “What?” he said lamely.
“Mixology!” Candy exclaimed, “Doctor of Mixology, that’s what Jessica said. That’s the doctor who fixes people who’re all mixed up.”
“How did you ever make it through Kindergarten?” asked Will.
“What do you mean,” said Candy, “I can color inside all the lines, you know I can.”
The kids seemed all right, Bill thought, relieved, as they opened the car doors and walked toward the house. He’d screwed up royally, but they seemed okay. He’d let a woman move into their mother’s home and he pretended she belonged there when he should have been paying more attention. He should have shown better paternal instincts. He had been selfish and hasty and Bill felt ashamed. He’d done a very poor job indeed with everything. But the kids seemed all right. They seemed smarter than he did. At least he had that.
Tomorrow he would hire a housekeeper. The maid who came several times a week wasn’t enough. He’d find some nice, motherly woman to be there after school and life would seem normal even if it wasn’t. Well it would seem better. And they would begin again and would all have each other. It would all work out. He didn’t really know if it would work out, but each time he said that to himself he felt better, so every day he would say it and one day it would be true. Together they would start another brave new chapter, the last thing on earth Bill wanted, but as he had no choice, this time he would do it better and maybe he would get it right.
- NINE –
If Kevin had been a cartoon, the steam would have been visibly rising from the top of his head. As it was, he sighed, he seethed, and he dialed his cell phone. Kevin stood in front of the Beverly Hills police station, which really was quite splendid. They’d rebuilt it and the architecture and design were lovely—which in his current state of rage he considered a laughable waste of money. If there had been a suggestion box handy, Kevin would have informed them it made more sense just to use an insane asylum if everyone who worked there was going to be a deranged idiot and then taxpayer’s money could be spent funding donut shops, which would make everyo
ne happy except his patients.
Laura was indulging in some self-medicating, her guilty pleasure—a cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream on top. The puppy was in her lap as she sat on the couch, her legs tucked up under her, a soft and comforting robe wrapped around her. Now and then she’d give the puppy a little lick of whipped cream on her finger.
When the phone rang, she answered it without thinking, not even bothering to look at the caller I.D. “Hello?”
“Thank God you’re home,” said Kevin, sounding particularly harried.
Laura didn’t bother to wonder why. Chances are he hadn’t screwed any other women tonight and if he were being held up at gunpoint he probably wouldn’t be allowed to make a call. If he’d been kidnapped, well she’d read The Ransom of Red Chief long ago in school and she knew who’d get the worst of that deal.
Kevin shook his phone. They’d been disconnected. What in blazes? Was this sinkhole of a police station a dead zone for cell signals as well as brain waves? He pressed the button again and the phone began to ring. And ring. And ring. Soon he heard the sound of his own voice, something that normally he would find appealing but tonight to listen to himself saying you’ve reached the home of Doctor Kevin Flicker. Please leave a message… was far too much to bear after all the humiliation he’d endured.
Kevin began walking, but it was quite dark and he assumed all the police were off arresting nuns or throwing parades for drunk drivers, so he reached into his wallet, wondering if he had a card for a limo service. Why not treat himself? He deserved it after being practically raped by a chocoholic and subjected to who knew how many germs in the police asylum. But the only card he found was that girl’s, that caterer girl, what’sername, here it was right here, Angie. He guessed he could show them. Bill always telling him to back off. Laura always treating him like a leper. Here was someone, a nice little someone, and she was hot. And hot for him. But did she have a car? Who knew. Well, he was about to find out.
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