ACT 1
Olivia
Spencer awoke with a weight on her chest, as though she’d been fighting the
urge to wake. The darkness of the room only enhanced the feeling that she was
being slowly suffocated. On more than one occasion in the past she’d woken
from a nightmare like this, unable to breathe from either fear or recollection.
She forced herself through the sense of isolation with a few deep gulps of air
and the discomfort faded. Automatically, she stretched an arm across the bed,
just to touch Natalia and reassure herself, but the space beside her was empty.
More than that, it was cold. On the frequent occasions Natalia slipped out in
the middle of the night to check on the girls, she was always back under the
covers within a few minutes, unless Francesca was awake and Olivia couldn’t
hear anything to suggest that.
Checking
the digital clock display, she discovered it was nearing three thirty a.m. How
long had Natalia been gone?
The
darkness in the room was itself odd. Most nights Natalia left the door ajar,
despite the baby monitor, using the excuse that they could listen for Emma too.
On the rare occasions Olivia did wake in darkness, Natalia was always there –
or her voice was filtering through the monitor as she quieted Francesca. It was
soothing. But right now the only sound was her own uneven breathing.
Retrieving
her dressing gown from the back of the door she fumbled for the knob. The glare
of the landing light half-blinded her. She paused for a moment until she
adjusted well enough to go downstairs. All the remnants of Christmas, the
decorations and the lights, seemed muted in the silent room. Even though the
television screen was flickering, the sound was turned down to an illegible
murmur. Natalia sat rigidly on the sofa, staring with unblinking eyes at the
set.
Padding
across the room – being careful not to knock a dozen baubles off the Christmas
tree as she passed it – Olivia gently sat down beside her. “Hey,” she said
softly.
It took a
few moments for Natalia to recognize she was no longer alone. When she finally
did, concern flitted over her face. “Did I wake you? Or Emma?”
Olivia
shook her head. “You’re quiet as a mouse down here. Couldn’t sleep,
huh?”
“Thought
I heard Francesca, but she was sound asleep,” Natalia explained. “I came
down for a bottle just in case but...” A tired smile settled on her lips. “I
sat down and forgot all about it.”
Holding a
hand against her forehead, Olivia asked, “Are you sick?”
As her
partner began to protest, Olivia’s eyes strayed to the coffee table. There,
delicately placed on top of its envelope, was the last letter received from Rafe.
It was full of Christmas greetings and painful apologies. Her insides released
the knot of anxiety that had been forming as she drew her hand down to cup
Natalia’s cheek.
“How
about we go back to that cold bed? Try and get some sleep before every girl and
her dog – and, yes, I mean that literally – try and wake us up?”
***
“Aspirin’s
on the top shelf,” Jonathan said helpfully.
Anna Li
shot him a look – placed somewhere between gratitude and annoyance – then
searched out the relevant packet. Even the weight of the drugs in her hand felt
like a relief. There was something about the kind of headache you woke up with
that made it ten times worse than your standard work-induced stinker. Maybe it
was the realization that the day under direction of Chief Cooper had yet to
start and things were most likely getting worse before they got better – if
they got better. She wasn’t convinced Springfield possessed that ability.
Realizing
Jonathan hadn’t just made his remark and moved on she made the effort to focus
on him. He was holding a basket crammed full of sweets and snacks, mainly of the
child variety. “I thought you were a conscientious dad,” she said, turning
towards the checkout.
“Everyone
deserves some treats now and then.” He flashed her a boyish grin. “Anyway,
who says they’re all for Sarah?”
Resting
her hip against the nearest shelf, Anna examined Jonathan’s haul and smirked.
“You like chips with rhinos on the packet now?”
“Who
wouldn’t? Except maybe Frank.” Jonathan fell into step beside her. “So I
er... I asked Leyla on a date. We went out.”
That was
hardly a surprise. Anyone with half a brain would’ve noticed the attraction
between them that had been brewing for a while now.
“That’s
good,” she said finally, having searched for something insignificant to say
that wouldn’t offend.
The
headache had obviously taken its toll on her tone. His smile flickered. “You
don’t think so?”
“I’m
not the one dating her, am I?” she retorted, reaching around into her bag for
her purse. It came out all right, scattering coins everywhere. Jonathan dropped
his basket and kneeled beside her to collect them.
“You
okay?” he asked.
“Work,”
she said with a shake of the head. “Don’t ask.” Anna dropped her
shoulders, frustrated with both herself and the cases she’d been working on
nonstop recently. Finally, she realized it couldn’t hurt to elaborate. He was
mixed up in this like everyone else, wasn’t he? “Since Edmund pulled his
disappearing act everyone’s been tense, and the ongoing corruption
investigation isn’t helping any.”
“Has
there been anything from him, any clues, hints?”
“You’re
supposed to be focusing on your life,” she reminded him. “And your date,”
she added deliberately. “Are you seeing her again?”
“Sure,”
he replied, picking up his basket. “You could try being happy yourself, now
you’ve got a pretty teacher hanging off your arm.”
“I’m
happy, thanks,” she said as she tightened her grip on the aspirin. “And
after I’ve had a few of these I’ll be ecstatic.”
***
“Dad, I
just told you we’re busy,” Marina complained as Frank led her out onto the
street. “Grandpa needs me in there.”
He looked
up and down before he spoke. Aside from Doris Wolfe pacing the pavement across
the road, they were pretty much alone. Turning back to his daughter, he said,
“I’m going to ask you something, and I want an honest answer.”
Marina’s
brow creased. “What’s this about?”’
“Yes or
no,” he persisted. “Will you be honest with me?”
He watched
her carefully as she considered his words. He knew that he could be jumping the
gun with this, that maybe someone else should be having this conversation.
Perhaps he was too close but didn’t he owe it to himself as a father to give
her the opportunity to explain herself? You didn’t convict someone behind
closed doors, at least it wasn’t the way he liked to do it. Besides, he forced
himself to remember, this was only one aspect of many, the evidence mounting as
it was looked particularly damning. He’d lost count of the number of
conversations between him and Eleni when they’d tried to look at it all
subjectively, completely in Marina’s favor. It was almost impossible. But, out
of all of it, this was the part giving him sleepless nights.
Finally,
Marina touched his arm. “Of course I will, Dad. What do you want to know?”
“Did you
help Edmund escape from the hospital?” he asked bluntly.
She stared
back at him. “Excuse me?”
Frank
forced himself to remain strong. He didn’t want to believe this, he didn’t
want to ask the question but he had to. “Come on, it’s simple enough.”
His
daughter turned away from him, shivering in the cool December air. “I can’t
believe you’re asking me this. It’s her, isn’t it?” She glanced back
accusingly. “Why do you believe her?”
“I
believe in facts, that’s all,” he answered. “And, I have to tell you, some
things are adding up badly. This isn’t down to your mother.”
“Sure it
is,” Marina snapped. “She put the idea into your head because of the way
I’ve treated her since she turned up here like unwanted garbage.”
“Marina!”
he said sharply. “You won’t talk about her like that in front of me,
okay?”
Tears
formed in her eyes. “I want things to be how they were before. She’s
screwing everything up. I hate her.”
Frank
glanced away momentarily and forced himself to come back to the main point.
“You haven’t answered the question,” he reminded her.
Her eyes
darted from side to side. Briefly, he wondered if he’d believe her if she
denied it. She was his child; he at least had to trust her, didn’t he?
“He was
blackmailing me,” she said finally, looking away. “I didn’t have a choice,
I’m sorry.”
There was
a lengthy silence. Frank looked at her, wondering how and why and when, but not
caring enough to ask right now. The important thing was that his suspicions had
been correct and he didn’t know what the hell happened next. He couldn’t
stand there any longer. Turning, he began to walk away.
“Dad?”
Marina’s cracking voice halted him. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I
am,” he said faintly. “Always. But parents can’t constantly protect their
kids, Marina. However much they want to.”
He left
her standing there and only glanced back when he was across the street. Her head
was turned from him but he could still see the tears cascading down her face.
Didn’t she realize that it hurt him as much as it hurt her?
***
Doris
Wolfe inhaled deeply as she stood outside Company with her cell phone pressed to
her ear. Her arm was beginning to ache from holding it up for so long, and
she’d done two circuits of the block while listening to the ramblings in a
conversation she positively felt no part of. For the sake of politeness and
company solidarity, she allowed Beth and Mel to duke it out, knowing they sat
right next to each other at the office. They were purposefully including her in
this; she supposed they didn’t have to.
“Alright,
ladies,” she cut in eventually, “we need to talk about this in person
obviously.”
There was
a surprised silence on the line, as though they’d forgotten she was even
there. Then Mel asked hesitantly, “Weren’t you going out of town for a few
days?”
Inwardly
sighing, she kept her voice level. “It was only one night and it can be
rearranged. We need to win this case; we’re going to win it.”
When she
walked into Company a few moments later she was still debating how to broach the
subject. Blake was pouring coffee for a customer but noted her presence
immediately. The smile that slid onto her face flickered and died within the
space of five seconds. Wincing, Doris stepped forward to meet her at the end of
the counter. The fact she looked absolutely stunning in a simple brown shirt and
pants combo wouldn’t make this any easier.
Clearing
her throat, she managed a throaty. “Hi.”
They
stared at each other for ten seconds then Blake reached for a fresh mug.
“Coffee?”
“Please.”
As her girlfriend poured, she tried to go on, “About tonight – “
“Doris,”
Blake interrupted swiftly, “it’s fine. I know what the look on your face
means.”
She felt
her cheeks grow warm – she knew the implications of that statement as well as
Blake did and being compared to Frank Cooper was not her favorite way to spend
lunchtime. Her first impulse was to retort but she reined that in and instead
watched the liquid level in her cup steadily rise. By the time Blake pushed the
drink an inch towards her, she was calmer and raised her eyes reluctantly.
“I’m
sorry,” she murmured.
A smile
drifted across Blake’s face. “That was really difficult for you, wasn’t
it?”
She
shrugged, feeling the mood lighten a little. Her history with relationships, or
lack thereof, hadn’t prepared her for the etiquette in these situations. With
Anna, the cop was as likely to be canceling on her as the other way round. Blake
was a much more reliable person. Well, these days anyway. Now she knew how
crappy Olivia felt when she had to cancel on Natalia, and also why she didn’t
do it all that often.
“Keep
looking guilty,” Blake observed. “It’s good for my morale.”
Doris
smiled ruefully. “It’s work. I am sorry, you know?”
Blake met
her eye. “Oh, believe me, I know. Guess that gorgeous restaurant you were
talking about will still be there in a few weeks, right?”
“If you
still want to go, we’ll reschedule. I promise.”
“Don’t
promise,” warned Blake, surreptitiously stroking the back of her hand.
“Could we have dinner tonight? Would you have time for dinner with me
tonight?” Suggestively, she smiled up at Doris. “It would be a shame to
waste the overnight sitter.”
Finally,
Doris relaxed. “Sure. What time should I order the takeout for?”
A playful
expression slipped over her girlfriend’s face. “I was thinking a little more
adventurous than that.”
***
Ava
Peralta let the door swing shut behind her and squinted around the
sparsely-populated crowd. Her mother had the habit of standing out wherever she
was so a cursory glance around the room settled that she wasn’t there. She
knew Doris often dragged Olivia to Ladies Night and when she hadn’t found her
at either the farmhouse or the Beacon she’d just thought...
Well, it
didn’t matter. Knowing how loved-up Olivia Spencer was these days she was
probably out doing something romantic for Natalia. Despite Ava’s ongoing
irritation at her soon-to-be stepmother, she had a grudging respect for Natalia.
After all, she made her mother happy. God, she’d remembered seeing her unhappy
when Natalia was gone and this was infinitely better than that, even if
conversation did dry up at times.
Just as
she was thinking she’d go back to the hotel and grab some dinner before maybe
bedding down with a movie and a glass of wine, she spotted a familiar figure by
the window chatting to a leggy blonde. At first she was convinced she was seeing
things but, no, a second look confirmed that it was the younger, more irritating
version of Natalia that she was watching. Half of her brain told her to back-off
and leave it but she couldn’t. She was still her mother’s daughter.
Striding
over, she forgot the pleasantries and immediately questioned, “What are you
doing here?”
Leyla
turned, annoyed at the interruption and – it seemed – especially because of
who had made it. “I’m having a drink, what does it look like?”
Ava
bristled. “At Ladies Night?”
“Oh, is
that what it is?” asked the day care manager sarcastically. “The sign on the
door didn’t tip me off at all.”
“Well,
being able to read and generally be anything apart from a pain in the ass is
obviously hard for you,” Ava shot back then winced at herself. So much for
their truce, huh?
The blonde
Leyla had been chatting with cleared her throat. “Is this going to take
long?”
“No,”
Leyla said instantly.
Ava
glanced between them, her eyes settling on the leggy bimbo. “Depends how much
of an experiment you wanna be. I could disappear right now, and you could have
the most unmemorable night of your life. Or you could leave.”
The look
of outrage on Leyla’s face was payment enough. She grabbed Ava’s arm,
possibly with the intention of leading her away, but the blonde had already made
a swift exit after a moment of consideration. Ava shook off her captor.
“So I
don’t think she’s a keeper,” she said with a smirk.
Leyla
glared at her. “Why did you do that?”
“This is
where women come to meet other women,” Ava replied. “I didn’t think you
were into that. Besides, aren’t you dating Jonathan?”
“He told
you that?”
“Of
course he did. Or were you trying to keep it a secret? So it didn’t interfere
with your secret life over here maybe?”
“Ava,
just butt out, okay? I don’t
understand why you’re making this into something. I’m just having a drink.
Or I was. I’m entitled to drink with who I want when I want.”
“I
wonder what everyone would think of you messing Jonathan around,” said Ava.
“He’s my cousin, I’m entitled to be worried when he doesn’t know what
he’s getting into.”
“Everyone
being your mother, I suppose?” Leyla retorted, a triumphant smile pulling at
the corners of her mouth. “After all, you always go running back there when
something happens that you don’t like, don’t you?”
Biting
down on her tongue, Ava forcibly stopped her response. It wasn’t worth it.
Besides, she’d already had all the conversations with Olivia after the Cyrus
debacle. She didn’t particularly want another lecture, especially knowing that
Leyla would probably spin this out of all recognition. The woman just really got
to her; she couldn’t hold it in sometimes. And, she reluctantly admitted,
maybe she was doubly irritated at Leyla right now because she was Natalia’s
sister. But that didn’t excuse her coming in here and messing with people, did
it?
Knowing
she had to have the last word, she pasted on the biggest smile she could muster
and stared squarely at the woman in front of her. “Since you’ve scared off
your date, I think I’ll leave you to wallow in a drink. Don’t drown.”
She heard
Leyla mumbling something as she walked away but she didn’t turn around. She
didn’t know that she’d won this one, but she certainly wanted to believe she
had for as long as possible.
***
“It’s
pretty full,” Blake said unnecessarily.
They’d
been hit with the stench of bodies the moment they walked into the foyer. Every
table seemed full; Doris could honestly say she’d never seen the restaurant
this full. Was it that everyone in Springfield had suddenly decided to take a
holiday from cooking for themselves during the boredom between Christmas and New
Years or had the psychic word gone out that she’d be here tonight on a date?
She felt a little apprehensive as she surveyed the mass of people. Part of her
wanted to turn and suggest they get that takeout she’d suggested earlier to
have at home but... no, she was past that. The reason she was getting out of
politics was so she didn’t have to turn and hide who she was. She was here
with Blake, and she wasn’t about to mess that up.
Clearing
her throat, she stepped forward and alerted the harassed waitress to their
presence. “Excuse me, I’ve got a reservation for eight. Doris Wolfe.”
“Hmm?”
The act of balancing words in her brain long enough to absorb them was
apparently beyond the abilities of this particular brunette at the moment. She
stood, mouthing silently to herself, then began to walk off. Doris was about to
call her back when she returned of her own accord. “Sorry, I just have to take
a soda to table five,” she said as a confused frown crossed her face. “Or
was it a coffee? Was it table six?”
“Go,”
Blake put in quickly, “we’ll get a drink at the bar.”
The young
woman flashed a weak smile then wandered off, still muttering to herself about
soda and table numbers. Doris glanced to Blake as they strolled to the bar.
“You really think she’ll remember us?”
“Who
could forget that murderous look you just threw her?” Blake retorted.
Doris
shrugged. “It’s a gift.”
“Can’t
argue with that,” Blake said, stiffening as she caught sight of something over
her shoulder. “Oh, this should be interesting.”
Curiosity
got the better of her and Doris turned around just in time to find herself
face-to-face with Frank and Eleni, both dressed in clothes that suggested they
were on a date. Trying to suppress the smirk she inevitably found wanting to
stretch her lips, she began to fail miserably – until Blake elbowed her in the
side.
“Frank,
hi,” her girlfriend said smoothly. “And Eleni, it’s good to see you.”
To his
credit, Frank caught on pretty quickly. He looked between them, grasped the
notion of a date, and promptly swallowed. Then he was all charm, presumably for
Eleni’s sake. Though, Doris thought to herself, the woman knew him. Which
begged the question of why she was on a date with him in the first place. A
disturbing image crossed her mind: had they perhaps...
“Ew,”
she murmured aloud without thinking. Three pairs of eyes abruptly focused on
her. Far from being embarrassed, she swiftly went on, “Who told Springfield to
eat out tonight?”
Frank
immediately grabbed onto the lifejacket. “It is pretty busy. You guys have a
table booked?”
Blake
nodded. “Don’t know about getting to it though. Everyone’s rushed off
their feet.”
Thankfully,
before anymore pointless small talk about the number of diners was required, the
bartender scurried up. It took them a good five minutes to sort out their
respective drinks and by then the haggard waitress was rushing towards them.
“Mr.
Cooper? I’ve got your table.”
Doris
cleared her throat pointedly. “What about ours?”
The
brunette visibly recoiled a few inches. “Um... we... actually...”
“What?”
she pressed.
“Your
reservation slipped through a glitch in the computer system, we haven’t got
you a table,” was the concise and quick reply.
Wisely,
depending on your viewpoint, the woman had put Frank between them. Her
opportunity of snarling at the waitress having been extinguished, Doris took a
steadying breath and glanced apologetically to Blake. “Sorry.”
Blake
shook her head. “These things happen.” To Eleni, she said, “Enjoy your
meal.”
Doris felt
his mouth opening before she saw it. Silently, she prayed for him to not make
the suggestion but –
“Don’t
suppose,” he said, halting the waitress in his tracks, “you have a couple of
extra chairs do you? We could all squeeze in.”
And there
it was. Doris closed her eyes and tried not to think of the kick Olivia Spencer
would get out of this story when she heard it.
***
After
fifteen minutes of waiting for Natalia to return from the bathroom, Olivia
accepted something had waylaid her and reluctantly climbed the stairs, cursing
every step she took away from the romantic little supper she’d set-up in the
kitchen. It was only reheated soup and some of Natalia’s delicious homemade
bread but the candles really brightened up the kitchen.
Sure
enough, she found Natalia in the dimly-lit nursery cradling a whimpering
Francesca. The sound of their daughter in pain banished the selfish urges
prodding at the surface and she immediately kneeled in front of them.
“More
teeth?”
Natalia
nodded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to leave her. And I couldn’t call you
without waking Emma.”
“Hey,
that’s fine,” Olivia admonished. “I’ll grab the medicine from the
bathroom, might take the edge off.”
Just as
she reached the bathroom, however, Francesca let out a wail worthy of an opera
singer. Olivia froze with one hand on the medicine cabinet but it was no good.
There was the familiar thump of Emma jumping out of bed and in a few moments her
bleary-eyed daughter appeared in the doorway.
“Is
Francesca okay?”
Olivia
tried to smile. Though, truth be told, fatigue and impatience were taking its
toll on her ability to do so. “She’s fine, Jellybean. Why don’t you go
back to bed and we’ll take care of it?”
Emma had
the beginnings of an argument on her face. If Natalia hadn’t suddenly appeared
in the doorway with Francesca clamped to her shoulder then a battle of wills
would’ve most certainly been on the cards. As it was, Emma’s head whipped
straight around.
“You
should be in bed,” Natalia said softly, bouncing Francesca slightly in her
arms. The little girl grumbled and wrapped a fist around several strands of
silky hair. Wincing, Natalia disentangled herself then returned her attentions
to their other daughter. “I’m sorry we woke you up, sweetie, but you really
need to sleep.”
“I’m
awake now though,” Emma complained.
“Well,
you need to not be,” Natalia said decisively. “One of us will read you a
story,” she added in a coaxing tone. “Who do you want?”
Before
Emma had even spoken, Olivia had stepped forward to receive Francesca into her
arms. “We know when we’re not wanted don’t we, Sweet Pea? C’mon, let’s
get some medicine into that little mouth of yours.”
Natalia
smiled as she was pulled out of the bathroom by Emma. A couple of minutes later
Olivia was settled in the nursery chair with her eyes closed, gently swaying
back and forth with Francesca. The gentle movement was rocking them both to
sleep.
“Hope
you know what you’re interrupting, kiddo,” she murmured. “I had a nice
bottle of wine, classy food as well. And afterwards I was going to dazzle her
with car brochures. When you’re older you’ll understand. A lot older,” she
said as an afterthought.
A voice
from the doorway startled her with, “Oh, about forty?”
Opening
her eyes, Olivia threw a mock-frown at her girlfriend. “It’s rude to
eavesdrop on private conversations.”
“Has
that ever stopped you from doing it?”
She
shrugged, dislodging Francesca slightly. “Oops, sorry, Sweet Pea. You carry
on.” She looked back to Natalia. “Emma asleep already?”
“Erm...
not quite. She wants hot chocolate.”
Olivia
groaned. “It’s gonna be a long night, isn’t it?”
A sultry
smile crossed Natalia’s lips. “You bet.”
As she
watched her partner vanish, Olivia pressed her lips briefly to Francesca’s
head. “And that’s why we don’t mess with your Mami.”
***
Doris had
been on her fair share of screwy dates: a few fellow politicians hoping for
extra-curricular activities that never materialized. Or the women she’d gone
out who’d misinterpreted something... or everything. There had been one
particularly humiliating evening back in the old days where a straight-laced
knitting-mad constituent had almost got the shock of her life. However, sitting
opposite Frank Cooper while Blake nervously smoothed down her skirt and
simultaneously fiddled with her hair was a new experience altogether.
She’d
managed to have a hushed conversation with Blake as they were escorted to the
table to ascertain she was alright with this. After all, she remembered the
tangled history she already had with Eleni and throwing Frank into that mix
could be a recipe for disaster. But Blake, eager to please, had just shaken her
head and smiled tightly. No matter how excruciating this evening could prove to
be, they were in it for the long haul. At first Doris had wanted to run in the
opposite direction: surgery without anaesthesia would be preferable. But now,
well, right now she was beginning to get into the spirit of the evening.
Leaning
over, ostensibly to rearrange their cramped seating arrangements, Blake
whispered, “Can you look a little less excited about this please?”
“Haven’t
a clue what you’re talking about,” she retorted. Snapping her menu open, she
bopped Frank on the nose. “Oh, sorry!”
“Not a
problem,” he replied.
Eleni had
buried her head into her own menu and hadn’t noticed a thing. “Really
don’t know what I’m in the mood for.”
“Something
soft and cool, a salad maybe?” Doris suggested. “Who wants steamy food in a
place this crowded?”
Blake
cleared her throat. “Not me.”
As Doris
innocently raised her wine glass to her lips, she didn’t notice Frank was
about to speak until it was too late.
“Oh, I
think I can manage something hot,” he murmured with a grin on his face.
It was all
she could do not to splutter all over the fine tablecloth. A faint tinge settled
on Eleni’s cheeks and Blake looked petrified. Frank, however, seemed
oblivious. He looked up from his menu with concern on his face.
“Doris,
do you need a glass of water?”
Shaking
her head, she patted her neck. “Drinking too fast, that’s all. Speaking of
which, we should get a bottle or two. Make a night of it.”
Eleni
nodded vigorously. “I’m with you on that. The wine, that is.”
Doris
masked her smirk. “Of course.”
The four
of them pondered the menu for several minutes. It was a good excuse not to talk,
or so the other three seemed to think. For her part, Doris was considering how
uncomfortable she could make Frank in the space of a short meal. Maybe they
could even stretch it to dessert and beyond. It wasn’t that she deliberately
enjoyed antagonizing the man, but anyone had to admit he had it coming... just a
little. She wondered how much of her distaste had come second-hand through
Olivia. Before her entanglement with the Spencer-Rivera family, she’d mostly
found him to be an incompetent irritation who occasionally put her off her
coffee at Company.
“I think
we’ll split a large starter,” Frank said suddenly then glanced anxiously at
his date. “If that’s okay?”
Eleni
nodded. “Sounds good. Do you two know what you’re having?”
Before
Blake opened her mouth, Doris jumped in, “I think sharing a starter’s a
great idea. Don’t you?” she added, raising an eyebrow at her girlfriend.
“Sounds
good,” Blake echoed hollowly.
Frank was
looking around like a schoolboy. “Well, we’ll need a waiter from somewhere.
Wait, if I can just –”
“Watch
the –” Eleni and Blake said simultaneously but it was too late.
“Wine,”
Doris concluded as the Merlot began to seep through the tablecloth, steamrolling
towards Eleni. In his customary manner, Frank instantly tried to atone for his
error, standing to perhaps block the flow of the tide. Either way, he didn’t
get a chance. Eleni backed out of his reach and he fumbled for a grip before his
hands slid into the spillage. The tablecloth ended up lopsidedly hanging from
the edge of the table while Blake sat poised ready to put her glass down.
Frank had
reddened down to his collar. Suddenly the choice of a salmon shirt seemed a
disastrous decision. Doris’s lips twitched as the thought crossed her mind but
she was swiftly admonished by an elbow in the side from Blake.
Standing,
she muttered, “I’ll get a cloth from the bar.”
The air
thinned as she battled over to the bar. Glancing over at the tableau after she
reached the edge of the scrum, she saw Frank grinning like a child as Eleni and
a waiter fixed the damage on the table. Blake sat still clutching her wine glass
looking about as comfortable as if she’d spiked her drink with sulphuric acid.
Finally
coaxing a cloth out of the ragged bartender, Doris weaved her way back to the
table and touched her girlfriend’s shoulder lightly before leaning down to
whisper, “Did I tell you that you look gorgeous tonight?”
By
degrees, she noticed Blake’s muscles relax. Running her fingers briefly along
the exposed flesh below her ear, Doris then dragged herself away long enough to
toss the cloth at Frank.
“Here
you go, slugger.”
The goofy
smile on his face was growing. “Thanks.”
Thankfully,
they got through the starters without any more disasters. Well, unless you
counted Frank feeding Eleni a mushroom which was about as nauseating an
experience as you could get outside a delivery room. Blake’s eyes were
frequently fixed on something in the distance; Doris, unfortunately, couldn’t
tear hers away. It was like watching the mating ritual of an ostrich.
After the
waiter had cleared the plates, Frank managed to draw his gaze away from his
date.
“How’s
work, Doris?” He threw the question out casually but his eyes were as sharp as
they ever got.
A sudden
mistrust overtook her as she blinked at his audacity. If he was fishing for
information her office held regarding the corruption investigation he needed a
better reel. She’d assumed when they sat down that their jobs would be the
unspoken black cloud hanging over the evening. If they discussed her work
they’d discuss his, and that would never end well. The things she’d been
calling Chief Cooper in private would pale in comparison to what she’d say to
his face given half the chance.
Blake was
shrewd enough to realize that. She cut in with, “Have you seen the beautiful
little dress Natalia bought for Francesca for the ceremony?”
“Why,
yes, I have,” he replied. “It’s adorable, isn’t it? She’s adorable.”
“You’re
a very lucky man, Frank,” Doris said in what she hoped was a conciliatory
tone. Judging from the merest quirk of Blake’s eyebrow, it didn’t work.
Hurrying on, she added, “And any girl would be fortunate to have you as a
father.”
Leaning
closer under the pretext of getting her drink, Blake queried, “What are you
doing?”
“Hell if
I know,” she whispered. “Frank, are you okay?”
Something
that she couldn’t decipher had settled over his face. Eleni touched his
shoulder. “Frank, you’ve drifted off a little.”
He glanced
to her and she shot him an unfathomable look. Doris turned her head to Blake and
shrugged.
“Sorry,”
Frank said finally, “I just let my mind go back to work, that’s all. So much
to do, you know how it is. Or maybe you don’t anymore, huh, Doris?” he added
with a derisive chuckle.
“I’ve
hardly given up work,” she said testily.
“I
wasn’t suggesting – ” he began in a semi-conciliatory manner.
“Good,”
she interrupted. “Anyone for more wine?”
“Yes,”
Blake said instantly.
Doris signaled
to the waiter who stumbled around three other tables before reaching them. After
he’d rushed off again, she leaned back in her chair. The reference to work,
and particularly the insinuation that she couldn’t handle public office
anymore, had angered her. So Chief Cooper thought she was searching for an
easier life? Well, in one sense that was true, but she knew if she truly wanted
a simple life she wouldn’t be placing herself in direct competition with Alan
Spaulding’s favorite lawyers on a regular basis. This wasn’t the easy option
by any stretch of the imagination. She was giving up everything she’d work so
hard to obtain. Or did Frank think she’d fallen into politics having taken a
wrong turn? She sipped her drink and stewed for a minute or so.
“Any
word on Edmund?” she asked innocently.
Blake
exhaled. “Oh, boy.”
Frank
exchanged another glance with Eleni and shook his head. “Not exactly.”
“Meaning
no?” she clarified sardonically.
“Practicing
for the courtroom, Doris?” Eleni interjected in an attempt to lighten the
mood.
“Can’t
hurt,” she responded before looking straight back to an uncomfortable-looking
Frank. “Well?”
He was
growing red in the face again. Finally, with extreme difficulty, he shook his
head. “No.”
Doris let
the word hover there for a minute. “Well done,” she said sardonically. Then,
as Blake’s eyes bore a hole through her, she pushed her chair back. “If
you”ll excuse me for a minute...”
What
the hell was she doing? Doris
wondered as she rounded the corner and tried to comprehend precisely why she was
making this evening quite so difficult. Sure, it was always going to be a little
Springfield slice of hell, but she was going out of her way to make it
uncomfortable. If she didn’t know better she’d swear she was channelling
Olivia. Leaning against the wall near the restroom, Doris chuckled to herself.
Maybe that was it; maybe her problem was a diluted version of Olivia’s. Add
that to the fact that Frank was the police equivalent of a marshmallow, and she
had her reasons right there.
However,
she quickly realized as she saw Blake stomping towards her, that those might not
be legitimate enough reasons for public inquiry.
“What
are you doing?” her girlfriend demanded.
“I’m
sorry, I’m sorry,” she murmured. “It just needed saying.”
“Why,
because this evening was going so well? I really think you should just...”
Trailing off, Blake frowned at the slightly amused expression on her face.
“What?”
“Well,”
she said slowly, “perhaps I got a little jealous?”
After a
moment Blake pursed her lips. “You know, that’s a really good try.”
“I
thought so.” No need for Blake to realize quite how serious she was. Glancing
around to check they were thoroughly alone, she leaned forward to kiss her
lightly. She withdrew as she heard a masculine cough behind them.
Frank
showed no embarrassment. “Doris, can I speak with you for a minute?”
She
cleared her throat. “Sure. I’ll see you back at the table, okay, honey?”
Blake
distinctly rolled her eyes as she walked away. Doris turned her attention back
to Frank.
“I
don’t care about you two,” he said bluntly, “if that’s what you’re
thinking.”
“It
crossed my mind,” she admitted, not believing his denial for a second.
“So
that’s why you’re bringing up Edmund? Just trying to cause trouble as
usual.”
“Hey,”
she said, grabbing his arm as he made to turn around, “you brought up the
issue of work, Chief Cooper. You insinuated earlier I’d given up doing my job.
You can question my work ethic and I can’t do the same? I’m bringing up
Edmund because somehow he managed to escape under armed guard on your watch. And
now he’s roaming around the country, planning how to ruin our lives next?”
Frank
snorted and crossed his arms. “Come on, Doris, how are you even involved in
this? You don’t have to pretend you care anymore.”
“He shot
at me,” she replied angrily, frustrated at the way her voice trembled at the
words. She might be coping better these days but that didn’t mean she was any
less haunted by the events at Rick and Mindy’s non-wedding. “You couldn’t
even be bothered to turn up until it was over, so don’t even try saying I
shouldn’t be a bit pissed off.”
“That
isn’t fair. No one could’ve predicted – ”
“No, not
when you falsely ID a body, huh, Frank? Oh, and as to why I care? I suppose that
means I’m the only one who’s bothered about the little family up at the
farmhouse, does it?”
His eyes
narrowed. Shaking her off, he stepped back. “I’ve got as much interest in
catching Edmund as the next man. That’s my daughter up there, in case you’ve
forgotten. Not to mention Natalia and Emma.”
“And
Olivia,” she reminded him testily.
His eyes
flickered. “And Olivia. You can’t make me worry more than I do.”
At least
in that she’d have to admit he was sincere. Doris inwardly growled at what she
was about to say then squeezed her fingers into her palm as she did so.
“I guess
that’s something we have in common,” she said grudgingly.
He managed
a dry laugh. “Let’s not pretend that’s the only thing.”
***
