No Such Thing as a Lost Cause

by Shelly Fredman

  Nick unbuckled my seat belt and brought me onto his lap. I leaned my head against his chest and listened to the beating of his heart. It calmed me.

  “But here’s the thing,” I added, because I desperately needed him to understand. “As scared as I was for myself, it was nothing compared to how scared I was for you.”

  “You don’t have to be afraid anymore, Angel.” He looked on the verge of saying more but changed his mind. With great tenderness, he swept the bangs from my eyes and kissed me on the forehead. “I’ll see you at six.”

  Paul walked over to the table with a tray full of sliders and French fries. Daisy trotted alongside him and hopped up onto the booth and squeezed her furry little self in between Carla and me. She sat happily awaiting a slider.

  John cast an eye at the puppy and then to Paul. “Hey, isn’t this a health code violation?”

  “No,” he said, and set a slider down in front of Daisy. Maybe my mother was right. This looked like love to me.

  Carla put the mini burger on a plate and cut it up into bits for the puppy’s consumption. Daisy waited politely until she was through and then ate it all in one giant slurp.

  John made a face. “Am I the only one grossed out by this?”

  The rest of us looked at each other. “By what?”

  He shrugged and picked up a burger.

  “We’d almost finished our meal when DiCarlo showed up. Judging by the dark circles under his eyes he’d logged about as little sleep as I had. We all slid over to make room for him in the booth.

  “You look like hell,” he told me.

  “Thanks. That’s the look I was going for. And just for the record, you don’t look so hot, yourself.”

  “Not funny, Alexander. You could’ve been killed.”

  Carla reached behind me and cuffed Bobby on the back of the head.

  “Ow. What was that for?”

  “We’re celebrating here. So, unless you have something positive to contribute, go find Frankie. He’s in the back room playing pool.”

  Bobby reached over and snagged a burger. “Then, I guess you don’t want to hear my news.”

  We turned a collective eye on him. “Did the police find Torch?” I asked.

  “Yeah. He hadn’t gotten very far. He was about five miles west of Sherese’s house when they picked him up. He’d hit a telephone pole and was passed out in the front seat of his car. He’s in pretty rough shape. Third degree burns over most of his face and hands, but he’ll live.”

  I did what I had to do, I reminded myself.

  Carla gave me a sympathetic pat on the knee.

  “The good news,” Bobby continued, “is that Harwinton sang like a bird. He confirmed your theory about Stoller, by the way. They picked him up at the docks early this morning. Surprise, surprise, traces of cocaine were found on his dogs’ noses.”

  “His dogs snort cocaine?” Janine blurted out.

  “It’s how he kept them from finding drugs on the ship. By numbing their noses.” DiCarlo turned to me, his expression half admiring, half incredulous. “You had it figured right all along. I don’t know if you’re the smartest person I know or the luckiest.”

  I suspected it was a little of one and a whole damn lot of the other, but I wasn’t going to think too hard on it. I was just happy that the nightmare was over, and things would finally go back to normal.

  *****

  Apparently, I spoke too soon.

  My hands were full of take-out; Mexican, Indian, Italian, and your classic American fare, so I leaned against Nick’s security gate and rang the bell with my shoulder. Earlier, I’d tried to get a hold of him to see what he wanted for dinner, but he didn’t pick up the phone. So, I got a bit of everything.

  I wanted the evening to be perfect. Janine said she’d keep Rocky and Adrian for me one more night. She did my hair and make-up—well, as much as I’d let her, and gave me full run of her wardrobe. I chose a pale pink tee shirt dress that came down to my ankles.

  Janine wrinkled her nose. “You look like a giant penis. Here, let me do this.” She whipped through her closet and pulled out a shimmering, black, micro-mini dress with strategically placed cut outs on the front.

  With great reluctance I put it on. “Great. Now I look like a street walker.”

  Janine stood back with a satisfied smile. “My work here is done.”

  Nick answered on the third ring. “Come on up, Angel. I was just about to hop in the shower. I’ll leave the door unlocked. Just let yourself in.”

  Nick was still in the bathroom when I got to the apartment. I set the bags down on the counter and took out the containers. Then, I started thinking about Nick, naked, and I decided to wait for him in his bedroom, in case he was hungry for something besides dinner.

  A large, black duffle bag sat half open on his bed. Hmm…I peeked inside and found a pile of neatly folded clothes; jeans, sweats, fatigues and dress shirts. Next to the bag lay two beautifully tailored suits, a sports jacket and a couple of expensive ties.

  Suits…fatigues…WTF?

  “Hi there.”

  I jumped a mile. “I wasn’t looking in your bag.”

  Shit. Why’d I say that? My hand was still stuck inside the damn thing.

  Nick walked over to the bed and grabbed some jeans from the top of the pile. He was naked, alright, but even that temptation didn’t do it for me. Staring at his duffle bag, I was out of the mood.

  “Going somewhere?” I asked.

  “I’m afraid I am, Darlin.’ I’m leaving, tomorrow.”

  “How long will you be gone?” My mouth felt like cotton and the words sounded dull in my ears.

  “Hard to say. Maybe a month.”

  “Can I ask where you’re going, or what you’ll be doing? Or is that strictly need to know?” The sharpness of my tone surprised even me.

  “What’s wrong, Angel?”

  “Nothing.”

  Nick settled in next to me on the bed. “You’re upset because I have to leave.”

  “I’m upset because you’re choosing to leave. Why now, Nick? After all we just went through, why do you have to leave now?”

  I wanted to shut up. Told myself to, in fact. Quite sternly. But the words just kept coming. “We almost died last night. That’s a major event in my world. I thought maybe we’d take a half a minute to appreciate being together. But, instead, you’re off and running to God only knows where for God only knows what. At least I hope God knows because you’re sure as hell not confiding in me.”

  His voice was infuriatingly calm. “It’s the work, Angel. You’re making it personal.”

  “Because it is personal. And you do it every time. It’s a pattern with us. I get myself into a mess, you bail me out and then you disappear. I don’t blame you for leaving. Taking care of me is exhausting.”

  “That’s not it.”

  “Then, what is?”

  Santiago leaned forward and extracted a hand rolled cigarette out of a wooden box on his night stand. He put it to his lips, thought better of it and stowed it back in the box again. Staring at me with unwavering eyes, he spoke slowly and deliberately.

  “Look around, Angel. You and I are the only two living things in my apartment. I live this way by design. I can’t commit to a person, a dog, or a cat, or even a houseplant. I’m sorry, but I can’t be who you want me to be.”

  Suddenly, I felt sick to my stomach. I tried to interrupt to tell him to forget it. We could go on pretending that we could make it work, because I loved him that much, but he wouldn’t let me.

  “I care about you, Brandy Alexander. More than I ever thought I could and definitely more than I should. But it doesn’t change who I am, and, somewhere down the line, I was bound to disappoint you.”

  It would have been a great kiss-off speech, except that I wasn’t really listening, because, at that moment, something caught my eye. It was the tiny silver cross that dangled from his right ear. The cross that once belonged to his mother. Oh, my God. How clueless can I be?
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  I slid off the bed and stood eye level to him. He started to rise, but I placed my hands on his chest and shoved him back down. “It’s my turn.”

  That got his attention.

  “Y’know what, Nick? I’m sure you believe every word of what you just said, but none of it’s relevant, because I’ve finally figured out what the real problem is.”

  “Okay, I’ll bite. What do you think the real problem is?”

  “It’s not your job that keeps you from being able to commit. It’s fear.”

  “Interesting theory, Darlin’. Fear of what?”

  “Me.”

  He actually cracked a small smile at that. “Brandy, I’m sorry, but you’re not that scary.”

  “Yeah? Well, here’s the thing. You know I’m not the most introspective person in the world. I feel what I feel, and then I stuff it down with a Hershey bar so that it doesn’t interfere with my life. I’m not saying it’s the best way to manage my emotions, but it makes it a hell of a lot easier to recognize when someone else is doing it.”

  “Angel, is it possible that you’re attributing emotions to me that I just don’t have?”

  “No. It’s not. Those feelings are there. They may be covered up by twenty years worth of scar tissue, but they’re there.”

  I paused, letting my words sink in. “Nick, you loved your mother more than anyone else in the world, but you couldn’t keep her safe. So now, your entire life is about keeping people at a distance so that you don’t get hurt again.”

  “Brandy—”

  “I’m not finished. Look, you’ve given me so much. You accept me, you clean up after me, you love me. But you won’t commit to me. Not fully, anyway. Because you’re afraid one day you won’t be there to keep me safe, and you’re going to lose me. So you blame it on your job, or act like you’re just not that guy. You don’t do commitment.”

  “Look, Angel—”

  “Still not finished. The funny thing is you once said that I wanted a guarantee that we’d have a future together, and you couldn’t give me one. Turns out you’re the one who wants a guarantee. And I wish I could give it to you. Only, I don’t have that kind of power.”

  I waited a beat, but he didn’t say anything. “Okay, now, I’m finished.”

  Nick cut his eyes to the wooden box, and I could tell he was dying to grab a smoke. Instead, he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me close, and pressed his cheek against the exposed skin on my belly. I wrapped my arms around him and blocked out everything but the rise and fall of his breath.

  After a few minutes, Nick broke the silence. “So, where do we go from here?”

  And with sudden clarity, I knew.

  I unwrapped my arms from around his neck and straightened my spine, closed my eyes and said a silent prayer. God, give me the strength to get through this without chocolate. And then I began. “I love you, Nick, and that will never change. But I’m an all or nothing kind of girl, and I won’t settle for anything less than all of you. So, until you’re willing to take that leap of faith, and commit to someone, something, anything, we don’t have a prayer of making it.” My voice began to crack, betraying the resolve I’d so carefully constructed. “I’m going to miss you, Nick. Be safe, and have a good trip.”

  His expression was stoic, but there was no mistaking the pain reflected in his eyes. “Eres el amor de mi vida, Angel. I want to give you what you want. What you deserve. I just don’t think I’m capable of it. I’m sorry. I don’t want to leave you like this.”

  “You’re not. I’m leaving you.”

  *****

  “Yo, Sunshine. Look alive!”

  “I can’t move. I think I twisted my ankle.”

  “You can’t move because you’ve been buried under a blanket of TASTYKAKE wrappers for the past three days, and your nonstop crying has sapped you of all your strength. Believe me, Bran, no guy is worth that amount of crying.”

  “I wasn’t crying over Nick. I was crying because all the cupcakes are gone.”

  “Uh huh.” John squinted and pulled his baseball cap down over his eyes. The afternoon sun cast stubby shadows on the Art Museum steps as we stretched our out-of- shape bodies in preparation for the long trek up. “You ready?”

  “As I’ll ever be.” I knew John was only trying to help, but I longed to climb back into bed and watch Reality TV until my brain turned to apple sauce.

  I’d left Nick’s apartment without a backwards glance and managed to make it all the way to the elevator before dissolving into a soggy little heap.

  I knew he felt awful. But he would never promise something he couldn’t make good on, and I never would have wanted him to. I just wished he could.

  “Race you there.” John took a tentative step up. “Whoo hoo! Only seventy-one more to go.”

  My pocket began to vibrate. “Hang on,” I said. “My phone’s ringing. Hello?”

  “Brandy? ”

  “Yes?”

  “This is Judy Harrison, from Jacob’s Place. How are you?”

  Super depressed, actually. Nick has commitment issues and I’m going to die alone. “Great, thanks. Are you calling about Popeye?”

  “I am. When Mr. Santiago came to pick him up, we forgot to give him a copy of the adoption papers. He said he was going out of town and wouldn’t be reachable. I was hoping to drop off the papers with you.”

  “Nick adopted Popeye? When did this happen?”

  “Day before yesterday. I’m sorry. I thought you knew. This has been a real blessing. He’s the only person Popeye has responded to. I warned Mr. Santiago that it was a big commitment, but he said he wanted to do it…and he mentioned something about a leap of faith. Not sure what he meant by that.”

  My heart filled with inexpressible joy. “I do, Mrs. Harrison. I do.”

  Lifting my eyes to the mountainous stairway, I took off running, taking the steps two at a time, never stopping until I reached the top.

  About the Author

  SHELLY FREDMAN is a native Philadelphian who long dreamed to be Mrs. Illya Kuryakin from The Man From U.N.C.L.E. Having failed to reach that lofty goal, she switched her affections to fictional characters and situations that she could control with the stroke of her keyboard. This quest for power resulted in The No Such Thing As…Brandy Alexander Mysteries.

  Shelly and Brandy share feelings of pride in their hometown, and even though Shelly has moved to the west coast, she has always been, and forever will be, a Philly girl at heart.