The pain in his eyes answered my question.
---
I pulled up next to Brad, my eyes flashing in excitement.
"You sure you want to miss out on riding with me? You look a little glum." he asked sarcastically.
I sighed dramatically. "It's going to be really tough, but I'm going to try and suffer through."
"Alright then. Follow me out of the city. If we get separated, stay on 515 till we get to Boulder City. There is a Taco Bell right in the city limits - meet me there."
"Got it." I gave him a thumbs up and revved my engine. He shook his head at me and pulled out.
We took a left out of the dealership and came to an almost immediate stop at a light. The engine roared, even at a standstill. I massaged the pedals and prepared myself to start. My start was a little rough, I gave it too much gas and the engine revved high. Better than a stall. I worked my ways through the gears as we drove through the city, getting used to the feel of the car. Finally, Brad got in the turn lane for the highway and we merged into the fast-moving traffic. Opening up the car felt similar to taking off. I cranked up the radio and was doing eighty before I could blink, and was still in third gear! I up shifted and felt the car comfortably cruise. We behaved, never crossing over 100, but zigzagging past cars like they were sitting still. Three songs later, we were slowing and pulling over to a Taco Bell. I frowned, not ready to be at the destination yet. I pulled up next to Brad and turned down the radio.
"You want to ride with me from here?" he yelled, over the drone of the engines.
"Nah. I'll follow."
"Whatever you want. Stay close."
He pulled a tight U-turn in the small parking lot, and I followed suit, the rear wheel drive throwing me off a bit. The back end spun out a little and I came close to plowing into an older-model minivan and mother with two kids. I made an apologetic grimace and tried to call out an apology, but Brad was pulling out and I didn't want to get left behind. She shot me a glare and pulled her kids WAY over on the curb. A little overdramatic. One of the kids, a pre-teen boy with coke bottle glasses, tripped over the curb, staring and pointing at my car. The girl, a little older, with a bored look on her face, whipped out an iPhone and took a picture. I rolled into traffic behind Brad.
Boulder City seemed to be a typical small town. It had a few of the tourist booths advertising Hoover Dam tours and Lake Mead excursions but had all the standard trappings of normalcy. Our cars had seemed normal on the Strip, but here they stuck out like sore thumbs. Ambidextrous, jeweled thumbs, but still sore ones. I loved seeing kids’ reactions from the passing sedans and SUVs, and felt like every guy in a three-mile radius craned his neck to look as we passed. We left the highway and turned down one side street after another, Brad seeming to know the route well. The engine was beginning to get hot beneath me by the time we finally stopped, pulling up to a small house at the end of a cul-de-sac. The yard was tiny, but well tended, and there were fresh flowers planted by the mailbox. A mid-level Mercedes was parked in the driveway, the only sign of wealth.
I turned off the car, letting it work its way to silence, and then stepped from the car, trying to smooth my windswept hair and brush the road dirt from my face. I should have brought a brush. Knowing Brad, this woman would be dressed to the nines with her breasts on full display while I looked like a bedraggled homeless girl. I gave up on my appearance and joined Brad on the front porch. He rang the bell and we listened to its chimes ring through the home.
Thirty seconds later, the door opened.
---
I found myself staring at Betty Fucking Crocker. Or, at least, her identical twin. I expected for this old woman's 20-something daughter to pop out from behind a ceramic rooster, but Brad greeted the woman heartily enough that I understood her to be the "old friend" that we were visiting. I hadn’t realized that the man had literally meant "old".
I stood quietly on the front stoop, waiting for the woman to stop gushing over Brad; finally, her eyes turned to me. Behind her delicate gold glasses sat razor-sharp blue eyes, and I understood immediately that this woman was neither senile nor unintelligent. "Brad, introduce me to your friend." she chided him, placing a slightly shaky hand on his shoulder.
Brad turned to me with a smile. "Evelyn, this is Julia. She's a friend of mine from home, and came along with me this trip."
"She looks awfully young." Evelyn sniffed disapprovingly.
Tired of being talked about like a slab of meat, I stepped forward onto the threshold. "I am young, and he’s practically ancient. But he has managed to make this trip so far without his walker, and I am still fresh-faced and innocent, so there is hope for us yet." I kept my face blank and eyes innocent and hoped she wouldn't smack me with a spare oxygen tank.
She burst out laughing, her face a sea of delighted wrinkles. "Now where are my manners, come in!" She held open the door and a burst of wonderfully cool air hit my face. I walked through the doorway; she energetically shook my hand as I passed and introduced herself as Evelyn. She scurried around us and told us to go to the living room, an older room with plain cream sofas and lots and lots of afghans lying around. The woman apparently crocheted in her spare time, and apparently had lots of spare time. The huge TV, an impressive flat screen that made mine at home seem pathetic, was on a cooking show. She picked up a gigantic remote and turned it off.
"Brad, I have Coke for you. Julia, what can I get you to drink? I have tea, water, and Coke."
"Water will be fine, thank you."
She turned and entered the kitchen, a lemon-yellow room with grayish-green linoleum just off the living area. I looked at Brad. He had settled in the only recliner in the room and already had the leg rest up and was turning back on the TV.
"She just turned that off!" I whispered, not wanting to piss off Mother Hubbard.
"That's because she wants to “visit”. I don't visit; she knows that. The woman pays $8 extra a month to get ESPN just for me. I'm not going to insult her by not watching it when I come." He found the channel he wanted, and sports babble filled the quiet house. At the sound of Brad's voice, a series of high-pitched yelps came from a back room.
"Brad, will you let out Mitzi and Richie?" Evelyn called from her place at the counter. Brad groaned, swung the recliner shut and heaved to his feet, a loud sigh escaping his lips.
"Now don't you give me that! They've been waiting all morning to see you!" Evelyn carefully walked into the room, balancing a plastic tray on which she'd painstakingly placed three glasses, baby white napkins, and a collection of lemon squares, sprinkled with powered sugar.
"Thanks Evie," Brad said, snagging a lemon square and heading down a side hall. She set the tray down on the coffee table and turned to the TV with a glare. "That boy! Him and his ESPN…" she gave an exasperated sign and starting straightening a few pillows, but I could see a small smile on her face.
"Have you lived here long?" I asked, leaning forward and picking up my ice water and a napkin.
She settled into the loveseat, cater-corner to me, and looked upward, her face burrowed in concentration. "Why, about 18 years I guess. Moved in here when this was the only house on this street. You see it now, all grown up and crammed together." Her reflection was cut off by a clamoring of tiny clicks and two dachshunds burst into view, fighting each other around the corner and jumping on me like I was a new toy.
"Richie! Mitzi! Get down!" scolded Evelyn, reaching forward and smacking their butts. "That is no way to greet a guest!" Brad came in and collapsed again on the recliner, it creaking a bit in protest. The dogs seemed intent on covering me with kisses, and I moved to the floor so that they could have easier access to play. The girl dog immediately ran off and brought me a pink chew toy, and I begin to play tug of war with her. Silence fell.
"Now Bradley, don't think you are going to stare at that TV and not give me any news. What is going on with the club?"
Brad closed the recliner and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, gaze level on Evelyn.
All business now; ESPN forgotten. "The club is strong. Covers are increasing due to cross-promotion with area casinos. We have a new marketing program geared at Bachelor parties and have had a 20% increase in group events since last year. The-"
"How much is the marketing program costing? The Bachelor one, I mean."
"About three percent. So the twenty percent increase is more than covering it."
"And the girls? Why did Vicky leave?"
"She's pregnant."
"Are we covering her health expenses through the birth?"
"If she returns within two months."
"Make it three. Brad, you don't know what's it's like for a new mother."
He grinned. "No, I don't. Neither do you."
She waved that off. "What about Harmony - she left too."
"Heather was into drugs - we caught her twice at the Club. Told her to leave them or us. She choose them, and is at Painted Horse now."
The old woman harumped and sat back. "Okay then. I guess it's under control."
"Janine is supposed to be having weekly calls with you regarding all this. Has she not been calling you?"
"You know me - I don't like the phone. I like this better - face to face. That way you can see how someone really is. Besides, I'm not crazy about Janine. Too stiff and numbers orientated."
"Which is exactly why I hired her. Those girls will walk all over someone if they don't keep a distance. And I don't recall you complaining about the numbers last quarter?"
She grinned and patted his leg. "I know Brad. I just have to keep tabs - you know that. It makes me feel useful, gives me something to think about."
I played with the dogs in silence, eavesdropping. Richie, the male dachshund, starting humping my bare foot. Ewww. I moved it away from him but he followed, his tongue hanging out and eyes bugged. I sat, Indian-style and tried waving the rubber toy in his face.
"You been getting the deposits?"
"Yes, honey. Like clockwork on the first."
"Why don't you get out of this place; move to one of those active senior living places?"
"You say that every visit and my answer hasn't changed. I like it here. This is home. I'll stay here till they carry me away in a coffin; you know that."
"Julia."
I looked up, caught off guard by Evelyn's beckon.
"Yes?"
"We've been awfully rude dear, talking business. Tell me about yourself. How did you and Bradley meet?"
"Julia is an intern at my office." Brad answered the question for me.
"Oh." Her "oh" said volumes and I arched my brow at Brad.
"It's not like that Evie. Julia and I are friends, nothing more. She is Broward's intern, not mine." Kind of not like that. Sort of exactly like that.
"I wasn't judging you dear." Sure she wasn't.
"How did you two meet?" I said, trying to steer the conversation anywhere but where it was currently headed.
"Oh, Bradley helped me with my first divorce."
"And your second." Brad reminded her.
"Hush now Brad! No need to air all my dirty laundry! I just met this nice girl."
"Are you married now?" I had looked around for evidence of a man, children, or grandchildren, but couldn't find evidence of anyone but her and the dogs.
"Oh no, dear. I learned after the second one that men and me don't mix. I can only see the good, and they can only see the bad."
"I didn't think you practiced law in Nevada," I said to Brad.
"I am licensed here, but don't make a habit of taking on cases. In Evie's case, I had represented her sister in a big suit back home. Once Evie's marriage took a bad turn, her sister asked if I would represent Evelyn."
"And no one can say no to Ruth," Evelyn sniffed.
"And that was what, 11 years ago?" Brad asked.
"Yes, thank you for making me feel old. Eleven years ago. And Julia, this man has been driving me crazy ever since! Why I let him come by and visit me is a mystery." Brad grinned at me and I fought to smile back. The man was so damn charming it was criminal.
"Evelyn, when are you visiting Ruth next?"
"Thanksgiving, I suppose. Haven't heard from her yet, but she came here last year, so I will probably go there. Will you join us for supper?"
"I would never pass up your turkey and dressing. As long as I am not a burden, I will be there."
"Julia, do you live with your family?"
"Ah-- no. My family is in Georgia. I live with roommates - other college students." Brad listened closely. I realized this was the most he had heard about my background.
"What do your parents do?" This seemed to be of high importance to her.
"My mother is a nurse. My father is retired, was a science professor at UGA - the University of Georgia."
"A bulldog."
I grinned. "Yes. You don't want to see our home. The only theme Mom decorated in is red, white, and black."
"Well, my first husband, scoundrel that he was, was an Alabama fan. Now I rout for anyone else in the SEC."
"You didn't win his season tickets in the divorce?" I said with a straight face.
"Honey, what can I say? I guess my attorney wasn't as good as his."
We looked at each other, and at Brad, and laughed.
After two helpings of lemon squares, and three rounds of ice water, we rose to leave. Richie had finally abandoned my foot and I had finally endeared myself to Evelyn, and her to me. We all hugged in the foyer, Evelyn clasping Brad with both hands and seemed on the verge of tearing up.
"I will be back in about six weeks. Will you come and stay at Bellagio? I can send Leonard with the car."
She waved her hand irritably. "I guess. You know I hate going to that god-forsaken city. And don't send Leonard in that big car! A normal town car is all I need."
"Deal. I will take you to see Mystère."
"I don't want to see those double-jointed Cirque freaks. Celine Dion?"
"Only for you, Evie."
"You know they say this year is her last!"
"I've been hearing that from you for four years now - I'll believe it when I see it."
"Well, behave yourself. And drive carefully in that death trap!"
She gave him another quick hug and turned to me. "Oh wait!" she cried, throwing up her hands and running to the kitchen as fast as her old lady hips would take her. "I almost forgot your lunch. I packed you some sandwiches and drinks." She returned carrying a blue small cooler, with "Taylor" printed on the side of it. "There are some other snacks in there too. Don't you worry about that cooler - you keep it or throw it away. I've got plenty." She passed Brad the cooler, and kissed him on the check.
"Thank you Evie."
"Can't let you kids get hungry. Julia, will I see you again?"
"No, Evelyn, I think this is it. This was a one-time trip." She surveyed me wisely, her brows set. She leaned forward and hugged me tight. Whispering, so soft I almost didn't hear, she said, "You be careful girl. That man is a big hole to fall into."
She pulled back and squeezed my shoulders merrily. "Now you guys leave! I got a lot of stuff to do today and can't be watching after you two all day long!"
I got in my red beast, Brad in his - he set the cooler on the seat next to him. He pulled out first, and I followed, us both waving and honking our horn at the tiny blue-haired lady on the tiny front porch of the house at the end of the cul-de-sac.
CHAPTER 25
The day had gotten hot, and I blasted the air on high. I cursed the Dodge designers who’d put black leather in this car, the hot material burning my ass and legs. I couldn't even imagine being in shorts; my jeans were barely protecting me as it was. The highway was flat and narrow - just two lanes. Beautiful and quiet scenery flew by - mountains on one side and valleys with water on the other. "Back in Black" by ACDC blared and I put on my sunglasses and let my hair flip in the wind, feeling like the ultimate badass. Barely out of the city limits we came to a sign for the Hoover Dam and followed a long curving road up. The Vip
er's engine roared and the car felt glued to the road as we whipped up the curves. I loved shifting high and low and feeling the vibration and the power beneath me.
We finally arrived at the Dam. We avoided the parking garage and continued up the road, driving until we came to an overlook point. Every bad "Dam" joke crossed my mind as we parked and walked to the railing. There was a mist coming up from water, and I leaned over the rail, feeling it hit my face. Brad leaned over also, then stopped as the railing shifted a bit under his weight. We laughed and he stepped back a few steps, putting his hands in his pockets and looking out. The dam looked like a huge bowl - curved walls of concrete with a building built in one side. There was a plaque at our overlook and we wandered over to it.
Blindfolded Innocence Page 17
