Case of the Hot Dog

by Erik Schubach

  She did? They talk about me? I was suddenly feeling insecure and self-conscious, very aware of my shortcomings and idiosyncrasies. I again didn't know what to do with my hands, so I smoothed my skirt.

  Jess nudged her chin toward the door. “Since Jane is missing out on all of this...” She gave a silly look and ran a hand through the air, indicating herself, “...wanna get a coffee? I'm bored. I hate days off, I never know what to do with myself.”

  I closed the fridge door and nodded as I crouched to remove the packs off of Calvin, leaving his working bib on so he could accompany us. “Brave the fires of hell outside again? Sure, but I may have to bolt in a bit when I get a call. I'm waiting for a dog to be checked out at the vet.”

  She cocked her head and said in an odd tone, “Of course you are,” as she led me to the door, handing me Calvin's leash from the peg.

  We stepped into the heat in the hall, reminding me of the oppressive heat awaiting us outside as she said, “We'll take my car, and can pick up the fuzz bucket and drop it off with their owners when they call.”

  I closed my eyes, looking away from her as I locked and unlocked the door three times, then checking to be sure it was locked one last time, I said in a small voice, “His mom is dead. Murdered.”

  Jessie was behind me suddenly, hand on my shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. “I'm so sorry Fin.”

  I looked back with a grateful smile. When we first met, I had thought her a bitch, especially

  because she obviously broke Jane's heart when she broke up with her. But I quickly learned why Jane had been with her in the first place. She really did have a good heart.

  I just found it amazing that two women who were so far out of my league they had their own zip code, would hang around with me. I mean, back in school there were the popular kids, but then there were the kids who didn't associate with them because they were truly cool. That's the group Jame and Jessie fit into. I was in the 'Sits at a table alone or with her brother' group after Kerry moved away.

  Laughing nervously and shrugging I said, “I broke the pup out of a hot car and wound up arrested...

  again... when they found a body in the trunk.”

  She barked out ironic laughter and giggled out, “Jane arrested you? Again?” She had an incredulous grin on her face.

  I shoved her shoulder and smiled as I groused out, “Not Jane. She came to my rescue this time.

  After being overly aggravating.”

  Jess sounded almost wistful as she looped an arm in mine and dragged Cal and me back down the stairs and out onto the surface of the sun, “Of course she did. White Knight complex, that one.”

  Nobody ever said my mother raised a stupid child. I knew when to keep my mouth shut.

  That's how they met. Our intrepid Detective McLeary had broken up an argument between an overly forward butch woman and Jessie when the woman wouldn't take no for an answer at a lesbian-friendly bar in the East Village. Hearing that story, it was the first time I realized that there were sexual predators in every community, it wasn't just men, women could be too. I discovered I had misconceptions before, and I felt sort of guilty for my myopic view of the world. People were just people. Both good and bad.

  And there was our Jane, saving the world one person at a time, even off duty like that.

  The two of them first fell madly in bed with each other later that same night, then over the course of a few months, their lust turned to love.

  The raven-haired detective had shared with me one night, once she had consumed copious beers after a trying kidnapping case which hadn't ended well, that she had thought for some time that Jess was the one.

  It is sad that something so right can go so wrong when one person wants their partner to change the one thing the other feels defines them. One thing I knew about Jane Marie McLeary was, was that she was a cop. And a damn good one. Helping people was at the core of her being, just like annoying me was. It wasn't going to change, and if she did, even for love, she would wind up resenting it. She was woman enough to know that fact when Jess gave her the ultimatum, and it had cost them their Happily Ever After.

  I can see in Jessie's eyes every time the redhead looks at Jane, that she questions if she had made the right choice to do the right thing and break up before it became poisonous.

  Even though I was selfishly glad that they did break up, I couldn't help but feel that over the past three months, Jess had become a good friend and I felt for her. As weird as that sounds.

  I was surprised when she headed toward her car, not the diner next door. I shrugged down at my eager boy, and we hopped into her older, sporty BMW E36 convertible at the curb. As the days got hotter, Jessie had stopped riding her motorcycle and had opted for the blessed necessity of her car's air conditioning. Wise woman.

  The car's engine purred, being well maintained even for its late nineties vintage. I found myself, not for the first time the past few months, wondering if I should get a car. But it just wasn't practical for me in the city. Everything for me was within walking distance, and if I needed to get somewhere fast, there were plenty of public transit options. Besides heading home to Liberty for dinner with mom on the weekends, my entire world was contained within a half mile orbit of Central Park.

  Parking was a premium, and though I was one of the few people who actually owned a parking spot, I let Jane park her personal SUV, which doubled as her police vehicle, there at night. So where would she park? I still didn't know where Jess found parking, having two vehicles and all.

  Cal had his head between the seats, face in the stream of cold air from the vents as we headed south, toward Jess' stomping grounds. She chuckled a little as I straightened the stack of parking tickets which were strewn all over her dashboard, and organized them by date. I blushed and squeaked,

  “What?”

  She just shook her head, saying as she studied the car just ahead of us, stopped with its turn signal on, “You don't have to tidy everywhere you go, Fin. Some of us embrace the clutter.”

  I gave a playful growl, “Just because you and Jane are savages, doesn't mean the rest of... eep!”

  She revved the engine and darted around the waiting car as the person who was pulling out of a parking spot left. She whipped around and almost hit the leaving vehicle, then backed into the spot as the waiting man started to edge into the spot. We screeched to a stop in a perfect parallel park with the man's horn blaring.

  Jess seemed nonplused as she grinned at me, still on the thread of our conversation as she rolled her window down to flip the man off. “No, sweetie, not everyone is as obsessive as...”

  I interrupted with a muttered, “Calvin, attack.” The traitor took the opportunity of her looking our way to give her a sloppy kiss.

  Ok, I had to grin at the redhead's giggle. I'd never heard her giggle before. I found my heart sinking a bit, seeing more and more why Jane had been with her in these rare slips from her. Seeing

  more and more that I was nothing like her, and she was Jane's type. Maybe I was deluding myself thinking that I even had a chance with the detective.

  I looked past her to the man in the car who just sped past, shouting epithets and flipping us off.

  “That was wicked, woman.”

  She shrugged as she watched him almost rear-end another car because his attention was on us and not the road. “You snooze, you lose.” Then with mock innocence, she prompted, “You want coffee or not?” And she was gone, sliding out of the car and closing her door behind her.

  I smiled at Cal and pointed out to him. “Brats... both of them are brats.” He agreed with me, thank you very much. I clipped him up and checked his footies, then opened the door. Squeaking when he flowed over me to get out first. I was reprimanding as I slipped out behind him. “You could have waited for me to get out first you furry, opportunistic...”

  I trailed off. Jessie looked amused that I always spoke to Cal as an equal. I stabbed her gut with a finger again. “Hey, dogs are people too.” Then I starte
d marching down the sidewalk with my border collie, nose held high.

  She chuckled out, “Hey, Einstein, wrong way.”

  I felt my cheeks heat and spun on a heel, marching regally past the amused looking woman, “I knew that...” Then paused to look back. “Where are we going?”

  She shook her head as she pointed at an old dilapidated five and dime, Ethyl's, on the corner of the block. The sign was positively antique and had a clock inset in it with a picture of a coffee cup. It was actually sort of quaint, retro because of the feel, but authentic because it wasn't trying to be retro. It was the real deal. This place had been here a very long time.

  I tried not to blush again when she caught up and reprimanded, “You're worse than a little kid. 'I do it!'.” Ok, she was funny.

  We stepped into the store, the little bell above the door tinkling and the cool breeze of air conditioning hitting us as she explained, “Gran and Pops started this shop when they came to the States. Mom and Dad run it now.” Then she added, “They're sort of disappointed in me for not wanting to carry on the family tradition. But I don't want to have to scrape pennies together to make ends meet each month.”

  This was the first time she ever shared anything with me about her family. I realized that I haven't just been imagining it, we really were becoming friends. I let my underlying jealousy of her relationship with Jane dissolve into the ether at the realization.

  I glanced around as Cal sniffed everything, his tail swishing freely. It was a narrow, almost tunnel-like shop, just two rows of shelves with an eclectic assortment of canned foods, hardware, and even

  clothes. A small counter with a register by the door.

  I noted that unlike most convenience stores in the city, they offered neither alcohol nor tobacco products, though they had more than the prerequisite offering of lottery scratch tickets at the counter.

  She led us through to the back half of the store, to where an old-school soda fountain style counter with aged Formica top and dented and worn metal edging spanning the distance, showed the place's age. There were six, well worn, pedestal pivoting stools secured to the floor in front of it, and a mirror running the full length of the counter on the wall behind it. The mirror was adorned with specials written on the glass in colorful and swoopy writing. They offered coffee, milkshakes, and sandwiches.

  The pungent smell of strong black coffee assaulted me, causing a Pavlovian response as my mouth watered. Looking out of place at the end of the back counter workspace and the simmering pots of traditional coffee, was a newer espresso machine. A sign of the times it would seem.

  And speaking of the times, an elderly black man was sitting on the far stool, back leaning against the wall, reading the Times, his arm outstretched with his white porcelain coffee cup. A redheaded woman in an old-school white apron and diner-style white dress was filling his cup from one of the pots.

  The middle-aged woman's eyes brightened when she saw us, and I knew without being told, that the woman was Jess' mom. Only a mom can brighten like that when seeing their child. It was a universal look. Not to mention, that she looked a hell of a lot like Jess, just not quite as curvy. And she looked so... tired?

  She hustled over, placing the pot on the warmer and wiping her hands on the apron as she approached. Her eyes, the same steel grey as Jess', held the same glint as she moved out through a small partial height swinging door and placed a hand on her girl's cheek and kissed the other. “Mable!

  What a pleasant surprise, darling.”

  Mable?

  The hard-ass girl seemed to blush in embarrassment and looked a little insecure as she whined,

  “Mooom,” sounding so much like myself with my mother. Then she nudged her chin toward me. “The pretty one insisted on coffee, so I thought, hell, why not home?”

  Mable?

  Wait, I what? She was using me as an excuse to visit her mom? I felt used. But I was good with that so long as they stopped gabbing and got me some of the sinfully aromatic coffee.

  Mable?

  Jess stepped a half step back. “Mom, Finnegan May, and Calvin.”

  She looked at me in amusement, seeing me eyeballing the coffee. “Fin, my mom, Irene Freeman.”

  I beamed a smile at her as I shook hands. She had calloused hands indicating years of hard work, but though slender, they were strong like her grip.

  I said, “A pleasure to meet you, ma'am.” Then I looked over at Jess, eyebrow cocked and mouthed,

  “Mable?” She gave me a death glare in return. Oh, I saw great fun in my near future.

  Irene looked at Calvin, in his working vest then me and asked as she nudged her chin down at my handsome boy, “May I?” I was happy she asked, as most people just started petting him, but he was supposed to be working when his bib was on.

  I tugged the leash once and like a pro, Calvin sat. I nodded. “Of course, he's pretty much a greedy little touch-o-holic.”

  She bent and gave his cheeks a good scratching. “Who's a pretty boy?”

  He offered a paw, and she chuckled and shook.

  “Pleased to meet you, Calvin.” Then she stood and motioned to the counter and prompted with enthusiasm, “Sit girls. What can I get you?”

  I was prepared for Jess to go off on a double squish platypus latte with cinnamon floofs or something like she always does. Instead she just asked, “Coffee?”

  I smiled and held up two fingers. I realized Jessie was insecure around her mom. It was nice to see the overconfident extra from Biker's Monthly was human too. This whole outing I realized was because she was feeling that we were becoming real friends too, and wanted me to well, meet her folks.

  We sat at the stools, and I pushed my long looping curls back behind my ears and gave Irene a scrunch nosed smile as she placed a cup in front of me and poured some of the liquid of the gods into it. I squeaked out a little, “Thank you.”

  She beamed a smile back as she filled her daughter's cup. “I like this one better than the one with the gun, sweetie.”

  I almost spit the first sip of coffee out in surprise, just stopping myself from spilling it when the coffee sloshed.

  Jess whined, “Mooom, we're not dating, Finnegan is just a friend.”

  Irene gave me a sheepish look and offered, “Sorry sweetie, I'm always awkward around the lesbians.”

  Jessie sighed heavily. “Lesbians mom, not 'the' lesbians, we're not a band. And it's Jane, not 'the one with the gun.'”

  I caught the little wink her mom shot me. She was playing with her girl. I smiled into my cup to hide my amusement. It was always entertaining watching a mother pressing her daughter's buttons when you weren't the target. She said with a tinge of amusement in her tone, “What do I know? I'm

  from a different time, dear.”

  Jess changed the subject. “Where's dad?”

  Irene pointed at the door. “Headed next door to get some change. He'll be right back.”

  My eyes widened suddenly as I turned to the embarrassed looking redhead. “Wait, your initials are MJ?” I gave her a toothy grin as I started humming the Spider-Man theme, and she dipped her fingers into her mug and flicked coffee at me.

  I squealed and pulled back, not wanting coffee stains on the little white hearts on the dress Jane bought me. I looked down and sighed in relief, crisis averted. But now I wanted to clean up the little drops of coffee on the floor.

  Jess warned, pointing a finger over her cup at me, “I dated a cop. I can make it look like an accident, or make sure they never find the body.”

  I smiled into my cup again, then turned when the little bell at the door tinkled. A big burly overweight man with a receding hairline stepped in, Jess waved as he looked back, the man's smile bloomed like a flower greeting the sun as he waved back. That would no doubt be dad.

  He operated the cash register and placed some bills and coin rolls into it before closing it and heading back. Jess stood, and the man gave her a big bear hug. I stood as she introduced us, “Dad, this is my friend...” shoot
ing her mom an evil look before continuing, “Finnegan May. Fin, my dad, Hiram.”

  I offered a hand to him. “Very pleased to meet you, sir.”

  He smiled and inclined his head as he shook my hand delicately with his huge bear paw. “Mutual, I'm sure Miss May.” He had laugh lines around his eyes and mouth, and I could tell he spent a good portion of the day smiling. I always felt awkward meeting someone's parents, with the feeling you had to curtsy or something. Hey, I'm sure you're awkward too. Now shush and let me tell the story.

  I took my cue from 'Mable,' heh, and sat. He smiled, cocked an eyebrow in question and wiggled a finger between his daughter and me. Jess rolled her eyes and shook her head. “God, dad, you're as bad as mom.”

  We had a good time chatting with her parents. One or the other darting off to ring up the sparse customers that came through from time to time. It seemed lottery tickets were the biggest draw of the the store. The man in the corner was there the whole time, and I don't think he ever turned the page on his paper. I would have thought him asleep if not for his hand reaching across the counter with his coffee cup from time to time for a refill.

  I was having a good time and was sort of disappointed when my cell buzzed, and I looked down to see the vet was done with Oscar. I had to smile that they had given him two thumbs up. I was glad

  there were no ill effects from his baking in the sun like that. They indicated they were giving him a brush out and paw massage until I arrived. Hey! I wanted my hair brushed out, and my feet rubbed too, these dogs are spoiled!

  After saying our goodbyes, we headed to the car. Jess teasing, “Come on short stuff, let's go get your date.”

  Along the way, I got her talking about her relationship with Jane, and I found myself blushing and urging her to move along as she described how carnal and heated things were when they started. I had swallowed, oddly both turned on a little and jealous as I squeaked out, “I don't need the details, Mable.”

  She muttered with a raised eyebrow, “Don't think I won't kill you, Fin.”

  But I was surprised when she described how the detective, who hid her feelings, had started opening up, and how she fell in love with her. They had a relationship that was built brick by brick with emotion between their heated ummm.... sessions. Sort of the reverse of a normal relationship.