Margaret was fired up and she wasn't going to be sidetracked on this subject. Mandy groaned inwardly. "Obvious relationship?" she said, stalling.
Mandy's mother blinked rapidly, as she often did when she was annoyed. "Yes, dear. Please don't try to convince me that you're just a crime victim Detective Kelly was saving from a bad guy."
“I wouldn't do that, Mother, even though it's the truth.”
“And I’ll thank you to drop the attitude,” Margaret said crisply. “I'm not mentally slow, dear. A picture is worth a thousand words and this one speaks volumes,” she said, pointing a manicured fingertip at the folded newspaper on the table.
Mandy sighed elaborately and closed her eyes. She thought about playing the “I’ve just been through an ordeal” card again but holding off this conversation with her mother was not going to make the issue disappear. She might as well face it now.
Margaret moved one of the hospital chairs next to the bed and sat down in it. She reached for her daughter's hand, deciding to change tactics.
"I can see why your head is turned," Margaret said gently. “This young man is handsome and very...”
“Very what?” Mandy asked carefully.
“Masculine. What's the word nowadays? Macho.”
Mandy opened one eye. "And how would you know that?"
“I am not dead, Amanda, that's how I know. I am however 68 years old and so to me, you and this policeman are both ineffably young. You and Detective Kelly are like two kiddies playing in the sandbox about to eat the shiny plastic toys and wind up in emergency surgery.”
“Please give me a little more credit than that, Mom,” Mandy said dryly.
“I don't know if you deserve much more. Have you thought about what this is doing to Tom, to his career and reputation, having you cavorting for all to see with this..." she stopped.
“Cavorting?” Mandy said, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes.”
“Mother, I was sure I was going to die in that building. I thought Cameron would kill me or that I would burn to death. The most welcome sound I have ever heard was Kelly’s voice calling for me in the middle of that nightmare. You cannot imagine what it was like. Kelly killed Cameron with his hands. And feet. Does that sound like ‘cavorting’ to you?”
Margaret shuddered with distaste. “I’d rather not think about it.”
“You should think about it. If not for Brendan Kelly your daughter would be dead.”
Margaret said nothing. It was clear that she was struggling with that very idea. She owed her child’s life to someone she was trying to dismiss as unsuitable for that same child.
Mandy took a breath and strove for calm.
“Kelly is not Tom, Mother. Kelly’s values and aspirations are different, but in his own way he's very capable. And very successful at a difficult and dangerous job."
“Is that what attracts you, Amanda? You think he's tough?” Margaret demanded, in a tone which suggested that coming to that conclusion was childish and shallow.
“I think he’s very tough. I know it. I witnessed it.”
“And you found that exciting?” Mandy’s mother asked, a note of derision in her voice.
“I found it useful when a career criminal was trying to kill me,” Mandy said simply.
“And what happens when that toughness turns on you, Amanda? Have you thought about that?” Margaret said.
Mandy had thought about it. What would it be like to have Kelly's relentless drive, his unreachable conviction and maddening implacability, working against her rather than for her?
Her mother saw an opening in Mandy's silence and added, "This is a physical infatuation, Amanda. I understand that this policeman is attractive, even seductive, especially to someone like you who's been very sheltered. But he's not a companion for the long term."
“Why? Because he's not one of us, like Tom is? Tom started out with nothing, Mother, remember that. He’s not one of your social elite either.”
Margaret’s thin lips became thinner. “Oh, now you want to talk about Tom? You are treating him abominably, Amanda. How do you imagine he feels, seeing these pictures and having everyone else see them too?”
“Kelly is carrying me in those photos, Mother, he’s not screwing me. It’s not a porn gallery.”
“There is no need to be crude, Amanda,” Margaret said tightly.
“There’s nothing in them to disturb Tom’s composure.” Mandy could feel herself losing her temper.
“Bullshit,” Margaret replied crisply, and Mandy almost laughed. She had always found her delicate mother’s penchant for profanity when she was really upset very amusing.
“The pictures are revelatory, which is why we’re having this productive conversation,” Margaret added sarcastically. “You know it, I know it, the world knows it, and Tom knows it too. You'd better think about what you're going to say to him.”
“Oh, have I diverted his attention from trips to Outer Mongolia?” Mandy said sarcastically. “Finally, now that the crisis is past?”
“He has a business, Amanda, a business which does not involve killing people with his bare hands. That should be a welcome change from the company you’ve been keeping lately.”
Amanda pressed her lips together, trying to maintain control.
“I don't know what you expect me to do, Mother, apologize to Tom for allowing an unsuitable person to save me from a murderer? I didn't debate Kelly's ancestry or his credentials or his earning potential when he arrived in a burning building to kill the thug who wanted to kill me. I just threw my arms around his neck in gratitude and prayed we could both make it back outside safely. And I’m sorry that the press took pictures of it that embarrass you."
Her mother patted her hair, a gesture which indicated that she was switching lanes again. “Fine. You're both safe and that episode is over, thank God. What are you going to do now?"
Mandy looked down at her hands. "I know I'm supposed to say that I'll resume my life with Tom and get married in three months."
Her mother nodded.
“Should I invite Brendan Kelly to the wedding?" Mandy asked, tearing up and starting to laugh at the same time. The laughter quickly acquired a tinge of hysteria that brought Margaret to her feet.
"I can't talk to you when you're like this," Margaret said stiffly, "but I advise you to think hard about what you're doing, Amanda. Tom's patience and understanding won’t last forever. Right now he sees you as the victim of unfortunate circumstances, but that attitude won't endure in the face of your...dalliance with this detective.”
“Dalliance?” Amanda whispered, wiping her eyes. “Mother, you really need a dialogue coach.”
Margaret sniffed. “I would not be as tolerant as Tom’s been so far,” she went on, ignoring her daughter. “Just you think about that. Now I know you've been through a terrible experience and you need some time to...what's the word? Decompress. I'm going to leave you alone so you can rest."
Thank God, Amanda thought, trying not to make her relief obvious.
“You know your father and I only have your best interest at heart,” Margaret concluded, bending to kiss Amanda’s cheek in farewell.
Mandy nodded silently and watched her mother walk out of the room, then put her head back against the hospital pillows. The plastic covers under the pillowcases crackled in response.
Mandy knew that she would never be able to get through to her mother. There was a gulf between them which was impossible to bridge. Mandy was silenced by the impossibility of explaining the power of Kelly's allure to Margaret, who measured all people in terms of their pedigrees and stock portfolios. Margaret acknowledged Kelly’s attractiveness but she dismissed it as irrelevant since she didn’t really understand it. It was a long time since staggering sex appeal, the emotional pull of the simply irresistible opposite, had been a factor in Margaret Redfield's life. If it ever had.
Mandy picked up the box Karen had brought and then put it down.
It would be a while before
she felt hungry again.
* * * * *
Mandy was released from the hospital, went back to work, refused all press interviews, and tried to resume a normal existence. The meeting with Internal Affairs had gone as well as could be expected; she followed Kelly’s advice and told the investigators as little as possible. When they realized that she wasn’t going to talk and would provide them with monosyllabic answers to every question, they went away pretty quickly. Mandy did get the impression that they knew a lot more had happened than what she was willing to reveal, but she also knew that short of a legal proceeding they couldn’t compel her to discuss it. When she heard no more on the subject she guessed that the matter had been dropped and Kelly was in the clear, at least as far as his conduct with her was concerned.
The wreckage of the DA’s office had landed in a warehouse two blocks from the original building, and everything in the new digs was chaos. The whole staff was working to locate records and reorganize the existing cases which had been interrupted by the fire. It was a monumental job and Mandy felt guilty for putting everyone in the position of trying to reconstruct their lives and careers. But she hadn’t made Cameron crazy and she hadn’t asked him to fixate on her. She was relieved that no one seemed to blame her for the resulting disarray and she tried to work hard to make up for it.
That wasn’t difficult, since she had plenty of free time. Tom stayed around long enough to register the fact that she had recovered and then disappeared to the Orient again. Mandy didn’t care; his departure provided her with a welcome break from dealing with the status of their relationship, which was in limbo.
She was more worried about Kelly’s absence from her life than Tom’s.
Two weeks went by without a single word from the man who had saved her life. She checked her cell phone hourly. She asked the office assistant so many times if anyone beyond business contacts had called for her that Celia began to look at her strangely. Mandy blamed the newly installed phone lines at the temp office for the silence, but she knew she was kidding herself. The message machine at her condo, which she maintained to screen solicitations and random inquiries she might not want to take personally, registered nothing from Kelly. Worried bulletins from her mother and sarcastic one liners from Karen filled the tape. It was some time before Mandy allowed herself to realize that Kelly was not going to get in touch with her, that he considered their relationship over and she was not going to see him again.
The very idea of it was like a death. She had to see him. She stopped herself from calling him every day, since it was clear to her that he wanted to make the break and was deliberately sending her that message.
But it was a message she didn’t want to receive.
Mandy didn't want to contemplate a life without Kelly. She would miss that measuring look which entered his eyes when he was considering something she'd just said; his short, explosive laugh; his engaging, come hither smile. She neglected her work to daydream about excuses to make contact with him and pretexts which would bring them together. So when the opportunity to see him presented itself she snapped it up hastily.
Mandy looked around one morning when Celia called her name. Celia was tapping on one of the folding doors installed on the warehouse floor to separate the ADA cubicles and bring some order to the confusion. She was waving an envelope.
"This was just delivered by messenger," Celia announced.
"What is it?" Mandy asked, noticing the heavy cream vellum paper and the official seal of the Metro PD stamped on the flap.
"Well, I'm not psychic," Celia said, "but my guess is that it's the invitation to that ceremony for the medal they're giving Brendan Kelly." She was smiling.
Mandy accepted the packet thoughtfully. She had been so preoccupied with Kelly's vanishing act that she hadn't thought about the medal event that was hanging out there in the indefinable future. It had been heralded in the newspapers, on TV and online. Mandy's mother reached for the antacids every time Kelly's face appeared anywhere in the media in connection with the rescue of her daughter.
"It's this Friday night, " Celia said confidentially. "I didn't open the invite," she added piously, indicating the unbroken seal, "but the messenger said so."
Mandy opened the envelope and saw a fancy letterhead, raised seals and gold lettering, gauzy liners which drifted lazily to her desk, and the time of 8PM on the last line. Under the flowery recounting of Kelly's conduct "above and beyond" yadda-yadda-yadda there was a description of the citation he was receiving.
Mandy scanned the lines rapidly. At the very bottom of the bonded sheet was a handwritten note from Commissioner Foster. He asked Mandy to sit on the dais with the other people Kelly had gotten out of the building while trying to locate Mandy. Foster also asked Mandy to bestow the medal personally on Detective Kelly. She read this with dismay and then sat back in her chair, closing her eyes.
This was going to be an ordeal.
"What is it?" Celia asked, her smile fading. "You look upset."
Mandy pressed her lips together. "I have to give Kelly the medal myself," Mandy said helplessly, at a loss to describe how much this affected her emotionally.
"So? That should be fun, right?" Celia asked.
Mandy shook her head.
"Not fun?" Celia said doubtfully.
Mandy put the card she was holding in her purse. "I can't talk about it now, Celia. I have to respond to this today."
"Do you want me to call in the reply to the Commissioner's office?" Celia asked. "They're not giving you much advance notice to respond."
Mandy sighed. "I'm sure they thought I was aware of the date before this formality," Mandy said, indicating her purse. "Everyone else seems to have known about it for a while. I guess I was in Oz."
"You have been preoccupied," Celia said. Her tone was sympathetic rather then judgmental.
"I'll take a cab over to the station and respond in person," Mandy said, picking up her cell phone. "Call me with anything urgent, otherwise take messages. I'll be back in an hour."
Celia nodded. She watched Mandy walk out of the makeshift office and then shook her head, wondering how it would all end.
* * * * *
Mandy arrived at the police station quickly since at mid-morning the traffic subsided until it picked up again at noon. She passed through the doors at the lobby entrance and went up to the desk sergeant, removing the invitation from her bag.
"Sergeant Langer," she said, reading his name tag. "I'm Amanda Redfield and I need to reply to this. " She held it under his nose.
The sergeant, who was five minutes away from retirement and had seen it all, looked at her over the top of his half glasses. "And your reply is?" he said, pulling his glasses down to read the invitation.
"I'll be there," she said flatly, realizing that it would not help her to discuss the situation with this bored veteran.
"The Commissioner will be thrilled," Langer said dryly.
Mandy looked back at him archly. "Do you suppose he could find five minutes in his schedule to see me?" she asked. "He seems to have taken a personal interest in publicizing the exemplary conduct of Detective Kelly," she added significantly.
Langer stared at her for a long moment, absorbing the message. He then touched a couple of buttons on his laptop computer and said, "Foster has a cancellation at five this afternoon. Should I put you in there?"
"Thank you, " Mandy said.
Langer favored her with a final glance. He then went back to answering the incoming calls indicated by the flashing lights on his desk phone.
Mandy returned to the lobby, wondering what she would say to get out of the medal bestowing ritual. The rest she could handle, but she feared she would come apart at that personal touch. She certainly didn't want to take that chance in front of a staring crowd and a full complement of cameras.
She was walking toward the vestibule when a side door opened and Kelly stepped out of a conference room into her path.
She wouldn’t have to look for him,
after all.
He stopped short and stared at her. She gazed back at him wordlessly. They stood flatfooted, frozen as if in tableau, speechless at the sudden confrontation.
"Hello, Red," Kelly finally said quietly, and just the sound of his voice saying that silly, obvious nickname made her throat tighten.
"Hi, Kelly." Her reply was strained.
"How's the ankle?" he asked.
"Fine. How's that cut?"
"Just a band-aid on it now," he replied.
Mandy thought the inanity of the exchange would drive her mad. She felt like she was acting; she shouldn’t have to talk with Kelly like this. Not with Kelly, who had saved her.
She wanted to embrace him, but held back, uncertain of her reception.
They were still as passersby went up and down the corridor around them. Mandy needed to hold on to the moment but couldn't think what to do to prolong it. She looked up into his face, wondering how she could ever forget the startling blue green of his eyes, or how tall and slim he was, or the lumpy little scar at the corner of his chin.
"I'll be at the ceremony Friday night," she said, clearing her throat.
He nodded. "Thanks."
"I guess they didn't fire you after all."
"Nope." He smiled.
The smile finished her.
"I miss you," she blurted, and she heard the catch in her voice.
He did too. He took her arm and led her back into the empty conference room, shutting the door behind them.
"Amanda, what are you doing here?" he said in exasperation, turning her to face him. "It is goddamn freakin' hard enough to stay away from you without you showing up in the house looking like..." he gestured to her.
"Like what?"
"Like YOU," he said, running his hand through his hair. "Like your redheaded, green eyed self."
Amanda's Blue Marine Page 15
