Perry and Della really met again in 1983. This what I think happened. Chapter 1.
The familiair crackling of a robe caught her attention. She opened her eyes, and put down the second cup of coffee she was about to enjoy. Reading a newspaper and having the best coffee in the town of San Francisco were definetely nice things to do while waiting for someone.
She didn't really know the woman in front of her, though she recognized her. She had a friendly face with soft eyes, and wore a judge's robe.
" Excuse me…." Also her voice was soft.
" Yes? Can I help you? "
" I don't mean to be rude, but I'd like to know your name, please? "
" Well, who is asking? " a little chuckle accompanied the demurely asked question.
" Mary-Ann Giles. "
" My name is Della Street, Your Honour. "
The silence wasn't as unpleasant as it seemed. They simply looked at eachother, recognizing eachother without any judgements exchanged, both noticing their resemblance.
" Nice meeting you, miss Street. "
" Nice meeting you too, Your Honour. "
They smiled and shook hands.
" Your Honour, might there be something I can do for you? "
Yes, you can leave, go away. Though I know it wouldn't make any difference of course. And I kind of like you.
" No, I just wanted to know who you are, that's all. Thank you. "
" But…. " Della narrowed her eyes and shook her head.
" I'm sorry to having disturbed you, please sit down again and enjoy your coffee. Goodday, miss Street. " She vanished as unexpected as she had appeared, leaving Della Street behind utterly amazed.
Three weeks before
" John, Magda, I'd like you to meet miss Della Street, my executive assistant. Della, please meet John and Magda Meyer. "
" Miss Street, nice to finally meet you. We've heard so very much about you. " The couple exchanged the usual phrases with her and her boss.
" Hello. It's very nice meeting you too. "
" Arthur, where do you always find these pretty ladies that are working for you? " John Meyer obviously approved of Gordon's employee.
She lowered her eyes at his assessing gaze, and rolled them in such a way that nobody could notice her aversion.
Yet, it was noticed. By someone that knew her all to well.
He had chosen to sit down at the table nearly opposite of the entrance, close to a pilar, to watch the entering guests silently, without being disturbed or noticed. His company for the night had already mingled with the crowd. The circumstances made him able to extensively take in all of the woman he used to introduce to people as his secretary and head of office until six years ago.
Earlier today he had seen her name on the guestlist next to Arthur Gordon's, and quickly phoned his date for tonight to tell her he had changed his mind about cancelling their appointment to go to this fundraising party. She had been too distracted and too surprised to ask what made him change his mind in the thirty seconds between this phonecall and the previous one.
Of course, if she had asked, he'd never told her the reason was Della Street.
Her radiant smile was still of the same breathtaking nature, time had added some soft lines to her face and some lovely little wrinkles next to her eyes. Her appearance didn't go unnoticed. He grinned while looking around how many heads turned to take in her presence. Her impeccable make-up and curly hair matched her dress into perfection. It was a damask dress, most women wouldn't dare to wear this fabric at the age of 60, but she did. And looked ravishingly beautiful in its pinkish color. Her white high heels and pearl necklace and earrings completed her attire close to perfection. He noticed her legs were bare, and remembered the softness of her skin, and how it had felt to his fingers while taking off her silk stockings.
He rubbed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. He had just watched her for five minutes and these thoughts were entering his mind already. Maybe coming here was a mistake after all. He stood up to find Mary-Ann.
His eyes were scanning the crowd, while he heard the sound of familiair laughter. Her genuine chuckles told him she was having a good time now. Though he tried to shake them off, the memories of their laughter together oozed through the reality of the partyhall. Their inside jokes, their bouts of laughter during the long hours at the office, both shared with their dear friend, Paul Drake. The joy of sharing the same sense of humour with Della, in court, in the office, in bed, in the kitchen, everywhere actually, even at partys like these.
His view on the crowd became misty. He quickly rubbed his eyes before anyone noticed the moist that was filling them.
A hand on his arm pulled him back to the present. " Perry, I want you to meet the associates of the lawfirm I used to work for, before becoming a judge. " Mary-Ann looked at him, noticing his pale color. " Are you all right? " He gave her his best smile. " I am. I am just tired I suppose…" Della's presence, without her knowing he was there too, was stabbing him. He wanted to talk to her. Or didn't he?
But she knew he was there of course. She had noticed his impressive appearance first thing when she came in. And also the woman that held his arm tight to her and looked up to him, obviously admiring him with soft eyes.
His posture was as imposing as when she last saw him. Distinguished, with grey hair, his handsome face framed by a grey beard now. It suited him. She took in his charming, dignified attitude, together with his gentle smile, his strong hands shaking hands, laughing, joking. The tuxedo fit him, matched his eminent appearance and the brilliant brain that he was so well respected and known for.
She noticed his eyes wandered through the crowd.
Then, inevitably, their eyes met. It was a glance. A long glance. All he did was stare. She narrowed her eyes, hesitated, then turned to Arthur Gordon who gently pulled her arm to introduce her to another of his businesspartners. While Arthur rest his hand on the small of her back, she turned her face to see the blue eyes that had stared at her before. They were gone.
Arthur asked her to dance, but she declined friendly and excused herself. Avoiding the chance she'd meet the blue eyes on the dancefloor. Instead she went to the bar at the side of the hall to have a drink on her own. She liked the quietness of the place. It eased her emerging headache.
But not for long.
" You look ravishing as ever, miss Street. " She needed a little more than five seconds to get herself together. She hadn't seen or heard this coming. He stood right next to her at the bar.
" Thank you, Your Honour, " her throaty voice and demure smile went to the pit of his stomach immediately. It had definitely been a mistake to come here.
" How have you been? " She watched him, but he couldn't answer her look. Afraid of what it would cause to his steady appaerance.
" Oh, quite all right I suppose…." he tried to sound solid.
" Are you? You don't seem to be very enthousiastic. " Her concern was genuine. Her voice was genuine. Everything about her was genuine. More genuine than the attitude of most people in this hall, showing off their wealth, talking business, carefully weighing their mutual interests to gain more of whatever it was they wanted to gain. Under the cloak of charity.
" That's because I miss you like hell. " It was a thought that just broke away. There it was, he had said it out loud, and he wasn't sorry, because it was the truth.
" What? " suddenly she seemed nervous. Her hands toyed with the zipper of her purse.
" I think you heard me…." he turned his face to hers. Big brown eyes stared at him in disbelief.
" Yes, I heard you. For the first time in five years…..Your Honour... " Her eyes were fierce. He told her he missed her like hell? What about their struggle to have as much time together as possible the first year of his judgeship, and then their massive blow up, and the following five years of absolute silence?
She pushed her anger away, and looked at him. She could still read his face and ways like a book, and measure his state of mind by the tone and timbre of his voice. And by the stare in his eyes and the darkness of them. There was not even a slight sparkle in his eyes. He really was unhappy.
She looked away from him. This was too much for her to handle. She could have handled seeing him with another woman, dancing with another woman, holding another woman close, seeing him having a good time, feeling good. But not this. She couldn't see him unhappy. She couldn't bare to see him unhappy.
" Excuse me….." Tears were about to surface. She had to get out.
" No, Della…" But all he could do was watch her run away from him. Again, and literally this time.
He sighed.
" Can I get you anything, Your Honour? " the bartender had noticed the tension between his two customers, and looked at him worried.
The Honourable Judge Mason in front of him scratched his neck and stroke his beard slowly. " Do you have a pen? "