Amid the Cherry Blossoms
Spring 2002
Two years into their partnership, she had never felt so comfortable around a male partner. He could be goofy, and unorthodox, but there was something to him that made her feel . . . safe. Not physically safe—she had never needed that from anyone—but safe to be her own self. Secure in who she was. Wanted for who she was. Vaguely reminiscent of Joe, her dead husband, but also different enough that she wasn't always drawing a comparison. She knew he had gone through many partners before, and was searching for words to say, "You can relax; I'll be here for awhile."
Today, they were merely enjoying the day together, strolling along under the cherry trees. The discussion had turned to interrogative technique. She wanted to groan—it was so hard to be at work all the time, but from what she had seen of Goren, he thrived on it.
"How do you manage to say those crazy things you say to people?"
"How do you mean?"
"You always know what to say to get what you want, and then you just—say it. It doesn't bother you what kinds of reactions you get."
"Well," he paused in thought for a minute, "I guess I'm used to getting strange reactions from people. It happened when I was a kid too. I mean, you know, I try to say normal things, but you don't expect smart things to come out of a child's mouth. Sometimes, I think it frightened them. They wanted me to say stuff like, 'Bobby wanna lollypop.' " His exaggerated child's voice made her laugh out loud. "When you're used to saying stuff people find weird, you stop worrying about their reaction. It's rather liberating, really. You?"
"Me, what?"
"How do you make yourself say things that will get a strange reaction."
"With suspects and perps, it's no problem," she said without hesistation. "With other people—I just nerve myself up and say it I guess."
"Screw your courage to the ceiling, that sort of thing?"
She had never heard that before, but she instantly liked it. "I've never had a problem getting my nerve up about anything. I always did whatever I was told not to do, what I was dared to do, even when it was dangerous."
"Or unexpected?"
"Well, yes."
He looked up at a cherry tree. "It's just about to start losing its petals. You know what image I've always loved, Eames?" He went on without waiting for a response. "The sight of a beautiful woman standing near a cherry tree with the petals falling around her. I saw a photo of that scene once, and it's always stayed with me."
She chuckled at his whimsy and shook her head. Suddenly he looked at her and grinned. "Hold that thought."
"Bobby, you're not—"
Faster than she would have imagined for a man that tall, he had shimmied up the tall cherry tree they were standing under. Lying full length like a mountain lion on the lowest branch, he grinned down at her and waved.
"Robert Goren, get down from there now!" She stamped her foot at him.
Ignoring her, he reached out and shook the branches, loosening the petals, and as if they were responding to his will, they started to fall around his partner. Suddenly, she laughed at the insanity of it all as the petals fell down around her. Impulsively, thinking of snow, she held out her hands to catch those petals she could. "You should come down before some poor patrolman has to come over here and haul you down."
Still grinning like the Cheshire Cat, he swung himself down. "I should tell you, you're covered in pollen and cherry blossoms."
In answer, she held her cupped palms to her mouth and blew the blossoms she had caught into his face.
He stood there, stunned for a minute, then said, as if thoughtfully, "You reminded me of Jack Frost just then, blowing snow from his fingertips onto a windowpane. Saw that in a picture too, once."
"More like the Cherry Blossom Fairy," she retorted, combing through her hair. "And here I thought you were only into nude, sweaty pictures."
He gave her the Goren Lean. "You know, when a fairy blows on you, you become something new. Something different."
"That's nice," she said, still combing through her hair.
"So tell me, miss Cherry Blossom Fairy, what did you turn me into? An ogre? A handsome prince?" He shot her a raffish smile.
Momentarily nonplussed, not wanting the magic to die just yet, she delicately plucked a whole blossom from her hair and held it on the tip of her finger. "Make a wish." When he hesistated, she added, "Quickly you fool, before the fairy vanishes!"
Looking into her eyes, he blew the cherry blossom off her finger with a breath so gentle, she would have guessed it was the wind.
She never got up the nerve to ask him what his wish had been.
