“No. But you and me, we’ve got something in common.”
“What?” she asked.
Buddy walked over to the couch and sat down. Molly stopped hopping and sat on his knee.
“What do we have in common, Buddy?” Molly looked in his face, her saddle brown eyes bright and wondering.
“Well, you know how your daddy’s in Heaven? Because of the Army?”
Molly nodded.
“My daddy is in Heaven because of the Army, too.”
Molly started to bounce on his knee and then stopped suddenly. She considered this new information.
“Did your daddy die from a parachute? Like mine?”
Buddy pursed his lips together and said, “No, he died in a war overseas. It was a long time ago, and I was only three years old. So, I don’t even remember him.”
“I remember my daddy.”
“Yeah, I bet you do. I bet you miss him.”
“I do miss him. Do you miss yours?”
“Well, it’s kind of strange, but I do. Even though I have no memories of him, I’ve always felt like something’s been missing in my life. I suppose that it’s him that’s missing.”
“Did he ever take you to Disney World?”
“No, he sure didn’t. Never got a chance to.”
“My daddy always told me that he was gonna take me to Disney World to the Magic Kingdom.” Molly sighed. “But then he died.”
Buddy’s stomach tightened. He never knew how much he missed his own father until this very moment…just like Molly, he was nothing more than a man with a childhood full of stories that were never realized…and only because life wasn’t fair.
“I hope that someday your mom will let me take you to Disney World,” he blurted out in response. He and Molly were eye to eye. She smiled at him crookedly, raising her fingers onto his left cheek.
“Did your daddy look like you?” Molly asked, starting to bounce again.
“My mother says that I do. That we have the same eyes and coloring.”
“I look like my daddy too. My mom has blond hair and blue eyes and I have brown hair and brown eyes and freckles. And so did my daddy.”
Buddy poked her freckles. “You know, my mother calls those angel kisses.”
Molly nodded yes. “You told me that before. I knew we were gonna be friends, Buddy. That time I met you in the school at the Fall Festival. Me and you, we’re both children growing up without our fathers. Only you’re all done growing up now. But that kind of makes us the same.” She stood up and picked up the bottle of wine. “Is this for my mom?”
“It is.”
“I’ll bring it to her. She’s upstairs still,” Molly explained and then hopped into the kitchen.
Later that night, after all the sugar cookies were decorated with green and red and silver and gold colors, some smudged and messy, some too pretty to eat, and Molly had been put to bed, Julie came outside and sat next to Buddy out on the front porch steps. The air was thick with a crisp new Winter chill, and they sat wrapped underneath a quilt which Buddy had taken off the couch and put around himself. They said nothing for a few minutes and watched their breath matching along in puffs, like cigarette smoke.
“I heard you tell Molly about your father,” Julie said out loud, breaking the nighttime silence. Everywhere, kids were going to bed to get ready for Santa’s arrival at any time.
“Were you eavesdropping on us?” Buddy asked, looking over at this woman he knew he loved with every piece of heart.
“I was,” she said, her breath with a touch of red wine still gracing the hollow of her throat.
“Yeah, well, I just thought she should know that she’s not the only little kid who lost their dad.”
Julie put her head on the top of Buddy’s shoulder. It was one of the first times she initiated any kind of physical intimacy with him. “Tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“About your father.”
“Well, there’s really not much to tell. I was only three.”
“How did he die?”
Buddy felt the warmth of her breath near his neck. It was so hard for him to not turn to her and kiss her. He wouldn’t allow himself to do it. He just knew that if he tried, he would scare her away, and he hadn’t come this far to lose his chance with the most incredible woman he could ever even hope to know.
“Vietnam,” Buddy stated. “Killed in action.” This was the first night since 1975 that Buddy spoke of his real father or of his real life from what felt like a lifetime ago.
Julie pulled her head up from his shoulder and faced him. Buddy turned his head slightly and could see her looking sharply at his profile. The space between them was ripe with tension.
“Would you mind if I kissed you?” she asked, like she was asking him if he wanted a cup of coffee.
Buddy grinned just a bit and said, “No, I don’t mind at all.”
He turned his head toward her and put his arm around her waist, pulling her into him. They shared a tender, thoughtful, restrained, yet full kiss, ripe with so many unexamined possibilities waiting to find their moment.
Julie smiled at Buddy and whispered, “That was really nice.”
Buddy, satisfied, nodded and agreed.
Johnnie Cochran Law
It was cold outside, and the sky looked like it was begging God to let it drop a few inches of snow onto the Carolina Sandhills’ landscape. Buddy decided that he would take Julie and Molly over to the North Carolina Zoo in Asheboro. The mother and daughter pair had been there only once before, and while Buddy had no particular interest in zoos, he thought it would be a fun activity that they could all enjoy together. It was good to get outside when it’s cold – it makes you appreciate the sun’s heat, and Buddy liked the way cold air felt on his face. Walking around the zoo would warm them up quickly, there would be no crowds, and the polar bear might feel at home enough to come outside and give the Winter patrons a good show. If there was a kangaroo, maybe Molly could befriend it, and they could hop around together.
As they piled into Buddy’s Pontiac, a middle aged black lady walked up into the driveway. Buddy put the car in park and rolled down the window.
“Ma’am?” he asked.
“Are you the lawyer? Johnnie Cochran?” she asked looking down at Buddy crouched in the driver’s seat. She appeared to be in her mid-fifties and had a set of rugged lines etched into her face, a weathered storm really. Her hair was a dyed blond, but she looked like she hadn’t had a chance to brush it out yet today.
Buddy thought about that. Johnnie Cochran. Must be a Jasper the Mailman referral. “I am,” he answered.
“Can you help my son?” she asked, the desperation evident in her voice.
Buddy looked at Julie and Molly. “One sec, let me talk to her.”
He got out of the car and stood with his back to the door.
“He’s a good boy, but he’s gotten into some trouble. He’s at the jail right now, and they think he’s taken part in a killing, but he hasn’t. He ain’t in any gang, and he don’t run around. He’s scared and don’t know what to do.”
“Have they arrested him for anything?”
“No, but they got him in one of those rooms and the police are asking him questions. He called me when they stepped out and let him make a call. He’s answering their questions, but they won’t stop making him feel like he’s answering wrong. He saw on one of the TV shows that he might need a lawyer if the police are asking him questions like he done something wrong when he didn’t.”
“How old is your son?” Buddy has heard of these things countless times. Police interrogations, using harsh tactics to get better information about crimes when they’re working on a theory and fishing for evidence and testimony. They use all kinds of tactics – completely legal – to glean information. It’s nothing new, but sometimes it can lead
to arresting the wrong person or gaining false confessions. And to Buddy, that is not justice at all.
“Eighteen,” she answered. She stopped talking and bent over, her tan puffy coat had a large hole in the left side and white stuffing was starting to come out. Her right hand covered her heart. “I’m dying. I’m dying here.”
Buddy leaned over and put his hand on her back. “Ma’am, are you okay?”
Julie got out of the passenger side and trotted quickly over toward the woman. “Hon, are you okay?” she asked, rubbing her hands along the woman’s back. “Can we help you sit down on the steps for just a moment?” Julie helped her walk over to Buddy’s front porch.
“I’m…I’m just breathing too hard or somethin’,” she stammered, a panicked look on her face. “I think I’m havin’ an attack. One of those ones where you can’t catch your breath.” She was a pale shaded woman, and Buddy could make out lots of light freckles peppered along her cheeks.
Julie sat down next to her, and she had her left arm along her back. “Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out,” she instructed, trying to help the distraught woman calm down. “You must be beside yourself with worry.”
“I am. My son is not a bad boy. He did not murder no one. I’m afraid the police is gonna try to make him confess to it. I’ve heard them doin’ that to some of these boys before,” she started speaking again, only faster. “Jesus, please help my son. Please, Jesus.”
“Well, the first thing you’ve got to do is calm yourself down and try to breathe normally. Okay? Then you can explain to Buddy the entire situation, and I have no doubt that he can help you and your son,” Julie explained. Her hair hung lightly over her navy blue coat. She wasn’t wearing her gloves. Her face was bright in the sunlight, and she wore that motherly-nurturing-Kindergarten teacher face. It was serious and comforting…but cute. Buddy loved it. He loved everything about her. He watched her soothe this woman’s nerves and fears all the way down to a softened tone. The woman’s face became sullen but alive again.
She looked up at Buddy. “Mr. Cochran, I am really sorry to just barge in on your day like this. It’s just that my friend’s mailman told me about you and how you might be able to tell me what I need to do so I can help my son.”
Julie looked up and squinted her eyes. “Mr. Cochran?”
Buddy smiled.
“Ma’am, what’s your name?” he asked.
“Janice. Janice Wells.”
“And your son?”
“His name is Roger Pearce.”
“Alright. And Roger is at the station now?”
Ms. Wells nodded her head. She put her head into her hands. “He wasn’t involved in no murder,” she cried, barely audible.
Julie piped in. “Listen. How about me and Molly head back home so you can help out Ms. Wells and Roger.” Buddy watched Julie as she rubbed Ms. Wells’ back. “You are in good hands here with Mr. Cochran,” Julie soothed, with the emphasis on “Mr. Cochran.” “I’m going to go now but only because I don’t want to be a part any lawyer-client confidentiality going on here. If you feel yourself starting to panic again, just take a deep breath in and then out and then in and out again. Okay?”
Ms. Wells nodded again. “Thank you, young lady.”
Julie motioned for Molly to get out of the car. Molly hopped out quickly. Then she walked over to Buddy and glanced into his eyes. “I think you need to bail on us, counselor. But for a good reason. Your law firm, Johnnie Cochran Law, does great work for some struggling Fayetteville citizens who need someone like you in their corner.” She grinned and kissed his cheek, grabbed Molly’s hand, and they headed over to her car parked on the street. “Call me later!”
Buddy’s heart swelled. Julie was such a good person. She wasn’t demanding of him or of his time. She didn’t require his constant attention. She was understanding about the nature of his job. She was kind to everyone, even perfect strangers in bad family situations who start into panic attacks in his driveway.
He still didn’t know what to do about his ever-growing feelings for her and still had no courage whatsoever to make any kind of move. He wanted to kiss her, all day, and make love to her like she was the only woman in the world for him. He never thought of women like this…like there could be one perfect female made just for him. He was a rational and logical man and all that made no rational or logical sense. But this one woman…Julie…he did think of her like that. All the rational realities and rules which he had adhered over the years about men and women and love and sex and friendship and “true love” and “the one” and all that fairytale jargon and silly sophomoric pipedream language that isn’t supposed to be real – it just didn’t seem to apply to Julie Saint.
As Julie and Molly drove away in Julie’s Neon, Buddy turned to Ms. Wells. “How about we go down to the station and see if we can help Roger.”
Spelunking
It was a Sunday evening and the southern Winter contained a certain level of warmth to it for a change. They got a break from the bitter cold this past weekend, and it was nice to spend the day together outdoors in just a sweatshirt and jeans. Molly rode her bike along the bike path at the park, while Julie and Buddy walked Bo. There were a few ducks out along the pond hoping for some generous humans with food scraps, so Molly got to feed them some chunks of stale bread.
She fell asleep on the living room couch watching Nickelodeon, and Bo sat guard over her from the floor beneath. It was dark outside, and Julie and Buddy sat in her back yard on the small patio housing a two-person bistro set under the flood lights. She held a Diet Coke can in her hand, and Buddy took a sip of his red wine. He hadn’t been a wine drinker before meeting Julie, but he found that he liked a couple of the ones she made him try. He was now down to only a couple of flavors of Kool Aid in his fridge. He admitted to Julie that she was helping him be a “beverage grown up.”
They sat in stillness for a while, watching the stars dot the sky. Julie enjoyed moments like that. She felt so in tune with Buddy at this point, even in their silence…and that, to her, meant that they had reached a certain level of emotional intimacy that was no longer easy to deny. For months, she spent so much time with him, slowly spilling her secrets, confiding in him her sad stories, sharing her deep pain and real fears about losing her husband and wondering what her life would hold without him. Buddy was so thoughtful and understanding toward her. He was patient and sweet. He never told her how she was supposed to feel or how she needed to get over Gabe and move on. He never treated her like some wounded bird who couldn’t figure it out herself, either. He was respectful. Always. She knew that he was in love with her – she could just tell. And she was afraid – terrified actually – that she had fallen in love with him, too.
It was hard for her to know what to do about it. The truth was that she was already basically dating him, without any pointed romance or further discussion about the status of their relationship. Molly adored him and always wanted them to do things together. Julie wondered what held her back. She couldn’t use Molly as an excuse, and because of how she knew she felt about Buddy, she couldn’t use Gabe as one either. She loved this guy. That didn’t change her love for Gabe at all. Gabe was just gone, and their love would always be a part of who she is going forward in her life. Gabe would’ve wanted her to find love again.
But there was something about Buddy that remained hidden from her, and she wasn’t quite able to put her finger on it. She had spent time with his mother and her boyfriend Joe several times now. She felt like they really liked her. She could tell that Buddy was extremely close with his mother, a regular mama’s boy, but not in a bad way. She knew that Buddy went to Carolina and that his father had died in Vietnam. But the rest of him – he was a mystery, really. He was elusive about his wider life, and she felt like she needed to know more than he had been willing to share with her.
“You hold many secrets, Johnnie Cochran,” Julie said out
of the blue. “You’re like an undiscovered cave just full of them…and now that I’ve found this cave, I want to go spelunking.”
Buddy was surprised by this. He never felt like he came across as a man who had a bunch of secrets. Even though he was.
“Why do you say that?” he asked.
“I can just tell. We talk about so many things, but mostly, they’re my things. And I’d like to think that it’s because I’m a girl and girls talk about themselves all the time. But I don’t think it’s that at all.”
Buddy sat back and folded his arms. “And so that means I’m full of secrets? Because I don’t talk about myself as much as you do?”
“That’s not all of it. You’re just guarded, and it’s not only because you’re a man or because you’re shy. I can tell the difference. You guard your innermost thoughts. Sometimes I think you want to tell me more about the things you keep hidden from everybody.”
Buddy laughed inside. Yeah, he wants to tell her how much he loves her. He wants to tell her that meeting her and Molly has been the greatest thing that has ever happened to him in his entire life. He wants to tell her that she is the most wonderful woman he has ever known. Maybe those were the secrets she wanted him to tell her. Maybe she just wanted him to confess his feelings once and for all. Say it out loud. Or maybe not. Maybe Julie was as smart and as perceptive as he always figured she was.
“Well, you got me,” Buddy said, matter of fact. A serious look came over his face. He took a deep sip out of his wine glass. Julie’s eyes got brighter in the lights. She pulled her arms out of her sweatshirt sleeves and put them against her chest, making her sleeves armless.
“Spill,” she demanded.
“No.”
“Come on. You know all my stories. I’ve told you everything there is to know about me. You know every single solitary thought I’ve had, experience I’ve gone through, scar I’ve endured…complexity. It’s only fair.”
“Not gonna happen. I can’t.”
“Why not? You don’t trust me?” she asked, eyeballing him across the table.
Good Buddy Page 12
