Pedal to the Metal

by Jesse J. Thoma

  “Shot in the head? Don’t be so dramatic. That bullet barely nicked you.”

  Holt had reemerged from the bedroom. She looked considerably less angry and Lola was no longer crying. Isabelle didn’t understand either of them.

  “Seriously, though, you scared Isabelle,” Holt said.

  “Oh no, leave me out of this,” Isabelle said. “If you’re having emotions you need to talk about, don’t use me as your fall guy.”

  “Fine, you scared me. And Isabelle.”

  Isabelle kicked Holt in the seat of the pants, making her smile.

  “I’m sorry, H. But I need to talk to someone and you’re the one I trust the most for this sort of thing.”

  “Well, next time text or something,” Holt said.

  Holt and Lola hugged each other. It was an awkward, yet deep, hug. The kind of hug you see between two people who rarely have physical contact with each other, but mean the world to one another. Isabelle thought it was one of the cutest things she had ever seen.

  “What’s going on?” Isabelle asked. This didn’t seem like it was going to be a quick conversation, so she started a pot of coffee and some water for tea.

  “This didn’t just happen today. I don’t want you to think that,” Lola said. “Everyone’s been asking me all about the baby. Dubs and Max were asking me whether I had all the stuff I needed for the kid. I didn’t even think about that. Then I was looking online at what you need. It’s a lot of stuff. I’ve been moving furniture around in my apartment all night. I think if I get a twin bed and maybe one of those folding dining room tables, I could fit all the kid’s stuff in there too.”

  “Lola, if space is the issue, we can make that work,” Holt said.

  “I mean, that’s part of it,” Lola said. “Or it started there. But I don’t know the first thing about kids. I mean, nothing. I’ve never even held a baby. Well, Superman I guess, but he’s not a baby.”

  “And I would like to point out, he loves you,” Holt said.

  Isabelle’s heart was aching for Lola. She was so clearly confused and hurting. Isabelle had no idea how to help, and Holt didn’t look like she did either.

  “The more I started reading, the less confident I started feeling. I don’t think I can take this baby. I mean, I work insane hours, in an occasionally dangerous job. I know it was just a nick, but I did have a bullet make contact with my head fairly recently. I thought I wanted this, you know, because I’ve always wanted kids and I really did love Tiffany, but now I don’t know.”

  “What do you need from me?” Holt asked. “Do you need me to help you work through your decision? Do you need me to convince you that you’ll be a good parent? Or have you made up your mind and you need me to help you plan your next steps?”

  “I don’t know,” Lola said.

  Isabelle wasn’t sure she believed her. It seemed liked Lola wanted to say something, but wasn’t quite ready to.

  “Anyone want a cup of coffee?” Isabelle asked.

  “It’s three a.m.,” Lola said.

  “I don’t think we’re in danger of going back to sleep anytime soon,” Isabelle said. “This is more important.”

  “Sure,” Lola said. “Coffee would be great.”

  Holt got up to help Isabelle. When Isabelle looked back at Lola sitting on the couch, she had her head in her hands. “Baby, there’s something she’s not telling us.”

  “I know,” Holt said. “She’ll get around to it. Lola always does. Give her time.”

  When they got back to the couch, Lola wanted to talk about Dubs and the case. Lola, it seemed, was a Dubs fan, at least on an interpersonal level. She also noted Max seemed to be a very big Dubs fan. Isabelle hadn’t noticed that, but now she would pay more attention.

  “Well, I shouldn’t keep you up any longer,” Lola said when she finished her coffee. “I’m really sorry to barge in like that.”

  Isabelle was stunned. Lola hadn’t said anything significant, not even a hint as to why she was really here.

  “Sit your butt down,” Holt said, not getting up or moving at all. “You’re not leaving until you’ve had breakfast with us, and you’ve gotten whatever it is you came here to say off your chest. Your choice which comes first.”

  “You make me insane, H,” Lola said.

  “I know it,” Holt said. “You’ve been saying that since we were kids.”

  Lola still didn’t say anything for a long time. Isabelle considered trying to prompt her, but she didn’t know what to say, or what Lola needed. Holt had known her much longer, and Holt was waiting her out. Isabelle followed her lead.

  “I guess I really came here hoping for two things,” Lola said. “Right off the bat, you should know, neither one is really fair of me to ask. But I still have to. Maybe it’s the only thing I’ll do as this little unborn baby’s mother. But if I do, and you agree, then it’s the greatest gift I could give this little one.”

  “Good Lord, Lola, spit it out,” Holt said.

  Isabelle loved Holt more than anything in the world, but she didn’t have an over-abundance of patience for this kind of thing. That said, Isabelle was a little on edge herself. Lola was being cagey, and it sounded like she had some strange ideas about just who should end up with Tiffany’s baby.

  “First, I would like you to tell me you don’t think I’m a bad person for not being able to take the baby,” Lola said. She looked near tears again. “I’ve always looked up to you, H. If you say I’m good, then I know I am. I feel like after George died, you’re the only family I’ve got, and this feels like a family moment to me. That’s really why I came here tonight.”

  Holt took Lola’s hand. “You know you’re family to me too,” she said. “And I think not taking a child when you can’t take care of him or her is a courageous decision. You were pressured into this by someone who was supposed to love you, but you had no agency. You didn’t make this baby, or even get a say in whether or not it was created. I’ll make sure you’re able to find the best possible home for the little one if that’s what you want. There are a lot of good adoption agencies out there, and a lot of families who really want children.”

  “So,” Lola said. “You’re right in that I didn’t have a say in whether this child was mine, or whether it was created in the first place, but I’ve gotten kind of attached to the idea of it, you know? I don’t just want a good family. I want the best. It’s not any of my business, but I happened to overhear you and Isabelle talking about maybe wanting kids one day at work a couple of weeks ago. I was hoping maybe one day could be in about two months.”

  “Wait, what?” Holt looked stunned. “You want us to adopt Tiffany’s kid?”

  “I said I wanted the best for the little critter,” Lola said.

  Isabelle felt completely blank. She had no emotional or physical reaction at all. It was as if Lola’s suggestion had stunned her very cells into inaction. Sure, she and Holt had mentioned children, but in a vague, preliminary kind of way. Holt looked like she was experiencing the same level of shock.

  “What makes you think I’m in any way qualified to be a parent?” Holt asked. Unlike Isabelle, Holt still seemed able to speak.

  “Everything, I guess,” Lola said.

  “Well, that narrows it down,” Holt said.

  “Look how great you are with Superman.”

  “I get to send him home at the end of the day,” Holt said, sounding a little panicky.

  “You’re wonderful with him, sweetie,” Isabelle said.

  “And can you think of anyone in the world more qualified to raise a kind, courageous, intelligent human being than Isabelle?” Lola asked.

  “Nope,” Holt said. “You’ve really thought this out, haven’t you?”

  “Why do you think it took me until the middle of the night to get over here?”

  “What would Tiffany think of a change in adopter?” Isabelle asked. She still didn’t know how she felt about it, but it was worth finding out if it was even possible.

  “She’s
fine with it. She’s willing to sign the papers for you, me, whoever. The father already signed away his parental rights. I’m going to go home now, but will you at least think about it? There’s a little time to decide. I’m sorry to just spring it on you. I just…I really want this baby as part of my life. But I’m not the one to raise it. This way, it stays with me, in my family.” She shrugged and looked at them both searchingly, and the silence hung thick in the air.

  Holt walked Lola to the door. Isabelle heard Holt tell her that if they did decide to adopt the baby, she was buying them the car seat, and maybe the crib. Lola seemed willing to take that deal because they shook hands before Lola departed.

  “Holy fuck,” Holt said, sitting as close to Isabelle as she could without actually sitting on her lap. She kissed her cheek.

  “Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Isabelle said. She still was having trouble feeling anything. It was all so overwhelming. “What do we do, baby?”

  “I have no idea,” Holt said with a smile. “The thought of a kid, that I’m responsible for, scares the hell out of me. But then I picture you holding our child, and hear that little kid calling you ‘Mom,’ and I think a little piece of my heart blows up. Don’t get me wrong, I’m under no illusion that it will be all sunshine and roses. But some of it would be, and Lola’s right, you would be the best person on this entire planet to raise an outstanding child.”

  “I do want kids,” Isabelle said. “But two months from now? How long ago was I telling you that we can’t have a kid in this loft? And you were worried about your job.”

  “Houses can be found. They only take money and time,” Holt said. “And I was worried about my job for a change, but you weren’t.”

  “It sounds like you want to do this.” Isabelle smiled. It was so cute to see Holt’s face lighting up at the prospect of motherhood.

  “I don’t know what I want,” Holt said. “I just don’t think we should let the obvious, and easy, reasons not to do it prevent us from even considering it.”

  “If there’s no easy answer to this question,” Isabelle said, “and we can’t take the easy way out, how do we decide?”

  “I have no idea,” Holt said. They both laughed. “Flip a coin?”

  “Fantastic,” Isabelle said. “If we pick correctly we could name the kid Tails Rochat-Lasher.”

  “There’s a name,” Holt said. “I can’t even get started on this decision without breakfast. I’m making us eggs.”

  “There’s bacon in the fridge too,” Isabelle said. “I’ll put on more coffee. You should call the office. I don’t think either one of us is going to be in this morning.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Dubs carefully reapplied her makeup as she sat on the park bench, studying her reflection in the small mirror in her makeup kit. She always dressed up for a job, something which Levi and some of the other guys she was friends with used to tease her about, but it was her profession, and she wanted to look professional. Now, truth be told, she was doing it at least fifty percent for Max. She liked the way she felt when she caught Max watching her, or the appreciative look Max had when she first saw her in the morning. Max always had that look, makeup or no, but Dubs felt best with it on.

  They had been sitting on this park bench, watching the world, and quite a few very nice cars, go by for over an hour. Max was getting antsy, but Dubs was quite content. When she was working, her usual restlessness melted away.

  “How many cars do you need to browse before you find the perfect one?” Max asked.

  “Picking a car is like dating,” Dubs said. “You don’t settle for the first pretty thing that drives by. I want to make sure she’s my type, that she’s into me, and in the case of the car, that she’s not going to start screaming with one of those alarms I can’t turn off in five seconds or less.”

  “There are so many jokes to be made with what you just said,” Max said. “But I’m going to just let it be.”

  “What fun is that?” Dubs asked.

  “Uh huh,” Max said. “I’m trying to focus on work over here. You’re the one with the least compliant makeup on the market. And did you just happen to forget to put your hair up this evening? For the first time on a job since we’ve been working together? You wouldn’t be trying to distract me, would you?”

  “If I were, how would I hypothetically be doing?”

  “It’s been a long hour,” Max said. “Hypothetically, of course.”

  Dubs was putting on a bit of a show. She loved the way Max made her feel sexy, and worthwhile, and like the most important person in Max’s orbit.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that,” Dubs said.

  “You are not,” Max said. “Look at you. You’re enjoying torturing me. Every minute of it. You’re a cruel woman, Dubs.”

  “I’m no such thing, Pretty Girl,” Dubs said. “I’m very, very nice.” Dubs kissed Max, first on the check, then on her neck.

  Max sat perfectly still, her back ramrod straight, her hands clenching the bench seat tightly.

  “I’m not just a tease, you know,” Dubs said. “You’re more beautiful to me than any car I’ve ever seen. I know that sounds dumb, but until you, there was nothing more beautiful to me in the world.”

  “You’re really sweet, Dubs. Now, why don’t you take a look at the second most beautiful thing to you, because I think our ride just pulled in.”

  Dubs looked up. Max was right. Holt had sent them back out to steal another car and see what they could shake up. They hadn’t heard anything or had any new leads on the theft ring since they got the license plate number from the security tape. Hopefully, this would help.

  Max scooted closer to Dubs and ran the back of one hand along Dubs’s cheek, and the other on her thigh.

  “What are you doing?” Dubs asked. Her blood pressure was suddenly through the roof. If this was what Max had been dealing with for the past hour, she felt terrible for what she had done to her.

  “The car owners are looking over here. I’m just giving them a reason to not be concerned with our presence,” Max said.

  “I’m pretty sure you’re giving them a reason to stare,” Dubs said. “And if you keep it up, you’re going to have to call an ambulance for me.”

  Max kissed her. It didn’t last nearly long enough for Dubs’s liking. When Max broke their kiss, she patted Dubs lightly on the cheek. “I think you’ll survive.”

  “You’re killing me,” Dubs said. “But you’re saved because it’s time to move.”

  Max hopped up and took Dubs by the hand. They strolled hand in hand toward the car Dubs had identified as their target. The car was parked in such a way that the driver’s side door was shielded enough from the street that Dubs could slide a slim-jim in the window and get the door open. She was anticipating an alarm and was ready to cut the wires under the dashboard to control the squawking, but when she opened the door, there was no alarm. Either the car didn’t have one, or the owners never bothered to set it. She got in the driver’s side door, unlocked the door for Max, quickly hotwired the ignition, and they were off.

  This was Dubs’s favorite part of the get, when she first pulled away in whatever car she was taking. The rush was greater than almost anything else she had ever felt. There was the adrenaline of having pulled off the theft, and also the anxiety of whether she was truly going to get away. The combination was intoxicating. She looked over at Max. She could tell by the look on her face that she felt it as well.

  “It’s an amazing feeling, isn’t it?”

  “I’m not saying I’m changing careers, but it is a rush,” Max said. “I didn’t believe you when you told me it would be.”

  Dubs put her hand on Max’s knee as she drove. “This might be my dream scenario right here,” Dubs said. “Maybe we should just keep driving forever. If we head west we could go for a long time.”

  “Hell no,” Max said. “That little dress of yours and that eye-patch bikini are still at home. If we go west where they have killer beaches and
amazing weather all year round, we’re taking those with us. Or at least, that would be my must pack list if I were given control of that sort of thing.”

  “Is that right?” Dubs said. “Well, in that case, that red pair of skinny jeans you have, and the Batman T-shirt that somehow lost its sleeves? Both coming with us. Also, your black boots. And that damn bow tie. You might just get to wear that every day.”

  “With the Batman shirt and the jeans and boots?”

  “Nope, just the bow tie.”

  “Oh, I see. We should probably find a private place then,” Max said. Her cheeks were a little red. She stiffened. “Dubs, there’s a cop.”

  “Don’t worry, Pretty Girl,” Dubs said. The car shouldn’t have been reported stolen yet, but even if it had, she was confident she could lose one police officer. “Put your sun visor down and slide the cover off the vanity mirror,” Dubs said. “Keep an eye on the gov behind us. Don’t turn around or check the side mirror.”

  Max did as she was told and Dubs kept an eye on the rearview mirror. She drove the speed limit and followed all traffic rules. This was the time when amateurs could blow it. They would start running, or do something stupid like start driving erratically. There was no reason to start acting wild until absolutely necessary. So far, she had no reason to do anything but drive to the drop site.

  Dubs could tell Max had her adrenaline pumping. Part of the deal when they left the office this evening was not to get caught. Holt had made that clear.

  “It’s going to be fine, Max,” Dubs said. “I got you.”

  “I know.” Max looked her straight in the eye, and Dubs knew she meant it. “I trust you.”

  Dubs’s heart melted a little bit. She couldn’t remember anyone ever putting so much faith in her. Not even Levi. He trusted her with his life, but they depended on each other in a very different way.

  The cop followed them for about five blocks before turning off to continue whatever it was he was up to for the evening. Dubs suspected both she and Max let out a small sigh of relief.