One Week After Janet's Arrest:
It was a morose Perry Mason that sat ensconced behind his large desk. His weary countenance made evident by the darker than usual circles under his eyes and the slight stoop to his typically broad shoulders. A growing number of cigarette butts filled the ashtray to his right. He and Della worked through the mail and final signatures in a sort of awkward politeness customarily reserved for those who don't know one another well, certainly not by two people who had loved and been loved by one another for the better part of a decade. The two of them had worked each day, never speaking of the argument they had had after Janet was arrested. They had both held onto their frustrations, neither of them yet willing to concede their point. So instead, they worked side by side, fulfilling the day to day demands of the office as they always did, but with a tenseness between the two of them, that was completely foreign and unknown.
Meanwhile, Perry and Paul did the legwork on the Brent case, what little legwork there was, leaving Della to close up shop and go home alone at the end of the day. Their investigation had led them nowhere except right back to Janet Brent and her "accomplice." Perry's frustration, not to mention his fear of what that meant for Della, had developed a life of its own. He tossed aside the last piece of correspondence and stood up to begin pacing.
Della watched him resignedly, knowing it would do no good to try and get him to relax. She released a deep sigh as she tried to work the tension out of her neck. Della had absolute and utter faith in Perry and the miracles he could seemingly perform. She had firmly believed he would save her from the mess she had gotten herself into, but her trepidation grew slowly with each passing day as she watched Perry sink further and further into despair and frustration. She had finally been forced to realize he was genuinely unsure if he could protect her from this. Della watched him, suit jacket off, left hand tucked into his pocket, right hand alternately raking through his hair and rubbing over his face. A horrible sense of guilt washed over her for what she was putting him through. Despite the difficulties between them at the moment, she knew Perry Mason loved her with a love that would never wane, its deepness rarely seen by even the closest of lovers. He loved her as much as any man could possibly love a woman and her, him. Their connection was as wild as it was indescribable. Della knew he would protect her from anything and anyone, but it was beginning to look like the one thing he couldn't protect her from was herself. Finally, he stopped pacing and stood to stare out at the Los Angeles skyline.
It was approaching nightfall and glorious shades of oranges, reds, and purples peeked and swirled around the tall buildings giving the illusion of some sort of fateful tug and pull between nature and man. Della stood and quietly walked up behind him. Unable to take the vastness between them anymore, she leaned her forehead against his back, resting delicate hands on strong shoulders. Those shoulders that sometimes seemed to carry the weight of the world on them. "Perry… I…" her voice broke. "I'm sorry." He quickly turned and grabbed her upper arms. His mouth was overtaking hers before she even knew what he was doing. His kiss was powerful. It was some conflicting, immense combination of anger, possession, and desperation. It both frightened her and set her aflame.
Just as quickly as it began, it ended. Perry pushed her away. "Della… I can't…" He deliberately changed course, ignoring the obvious hurt on her face, and moved to another topic. Clearing his voice, he looked over her shoulder as he told her, "Janet's hearing starts in the morning." She nodded her head as he gave her information they both already knew. "I can't have you… That is… I will take whatever notes are necessary for this case. I can't have you working as my secretary in the courtroom."
"What? Why?" Logically she knew why but it didn't make it hurt any less — the fights, the tension, the distance, his rejection, and now this. The hits just kept coming, and Della Street didn't know how much more she, or their relationship, could take.
"Because… Della…" Perry threw back his head in frustration. "Why in the hell were they having such difficulty communicating with one another," he wondered privately. "Because it is a conflict of interest, Della. You know that. You are one of Hamilton's star witnesses not to mention a very evident accomplice. If we were to have to depend on the appeals process, I don't want…" He never finished his sentence as the telephone rang.
Della quickly turned away and moved toward the desk, "I'll get it." Her voice, still raw with passion, hurt, and some sort of lonely longing greeted the caller, "Perry Mason's office." Della twirled the phone cord around her finger and cleared her throat, trying to stave off the burning tears. "Oh, hi, Harvey. I'm fine, thanks. How are Lucy and the baby? That's wonderful. No, I don't know why he would have called, but I'll get him for you. He's right here." Della turned with a confused frown on her face only to find him still standing by the balcony window. "Perry." He moved towards her with his "deep thinking lines," as she lovingly called them, evident on his face. "It's Harvey Porter on the phone. He said you tried to call him earlier today?"
Perry reached out, took the phone from her hand, and with no explanation told her, "Della, why don't you go ahead and call it a night. Head home and get some rest. I'll close up here and see you in the morning." With that, he turned from her and greeted his caller.
So, she was spending another night alone. Della closed her eyes and bit her lip to keep from crying as she went into her office and collected her things. She didn't understand this remoteness between them. From the first time they met, even in the beginning when they were avoiding their attraction to one another, they had a connection and comradery between them that was indescribable. Oh, they had spats in the past, but never this long and nothing this intense. She didn't understand why he was keeping her at such a cold, impersonal distance. Maybe what she had done was unforgivable. Maybe she had managed to destroy everything between them.
After a few minutes of aimless chatter and friendly catching-up, Perry asked his caller, "Hold on just a second, will you, Harvey?" With that, he checked Della's office as well as the outer office to make sure she was gone. "Sorry about that, Harvey. I have a very personal and confidential matter on which I need your help. I mean it, Harvey, no one can know about this not even Della." Especially not Della, he added to himself.
As Della made her way down to the underground garage, a gut-wrenching thought came over her. Maybe now that her above reproach reputation had been tainted, he no longer wanted her as his secretary, or anything else. Maybe the distance stemmed from the fact that he didn't know how to tell her she could no longer work with him. Could no longer be in his life. Della kept her emotions in check until she reached her car where, after sliding behind the wheel, she let every pent-up tear flow freely — forgetting about the almost secretive phone call between Perry and his accountant. Amid her latest fear, gone was the thought that Perry had no reason to be contacting said accountant since she, along with Harvey's help, had been handling all of Perry's business and personal financial matters and investments for years now.
After the Credits
Perry pulled into the garage underneath Della's building and parked the large Cadillac in its usual spot. Feeling her warmth still tucked against him, he knew she had fallen asleep, and he paused for a moment to just hold her. He placed his lips on top of her head and breathed in the scent of her hair. Immediately, he felt himself relax. Each of them a balm to the other's somewhat wounded soul. His relief at no longer having to worry about just what, exactly, he would have to do to keep her with him soothed him further. He was fiercely in love with this absolutely maddening woman, and he would have done anything to protect her… anything. Lovingly, he ran his hand through her hair and gently stroked her cheek with his thumb. "Darling," he whispered, "we're home."
Della slowly lifted her head and looked at him, a small smile playing on her lips. "Those few minutes were the best sleep I've had in quite a while."
Perry looked into her eyes and upon seeing her relief, her remorse, and most importantly, her love, returned her smile. "If you're that tired, maybe I should just drop you off so you can get some rest."
Della leaned in and brushed her lips against his. "You're not going anywhere, Counselor, so don't even think about it. I've missed you." He smiled at her, almost shyly before returning her kiss.
Once they reached her apartment, Della slipped off her heels and her earrings before allowing Perry to pull her against him. His arms wrapped tightly around her, and she sighed, welcoming his embrace once again. They stood that way for a long time. His face buried in her curls as he breathed in the scent of her. Her head was resting against his chest as she listened to the steady beat of his heart. Each of them was content to simply be with the other, allowing their relief over the outcome to wash away the last vestiges of their anger with one another. Replacing it with thankfulness to be standing in that very moment. Together. Now and then Perry's hands would caress her back, and Della found herself forcing back tears. She knew there were things for which she needed to apologize. She asked softly, "Perry, about some of the things I said to you…" He hugged her tighter to him.
"We were both angry and…well, I was more scared than I was angry. It just came out all wrong." He replied.
She pulled back and looked up at him. "Scared?" She knew she had let her fears get the best of her, but all she felt from Perry was his utter disappointment in her and the vast gulf that he seemed to keep between them because of it. Never before had she felt that she had so failed someone in her entire life.
He looked into her eyes before kissing her deeply. When they broke apart, his eyes were misted over. "Yes, Della, scared. Flat out terrified. I kept trying to picture what it would be like if you…" He swallowed, scarcely able to force the words out, "...if you went to prison. I couldn't ever wrap my head around it; let alone my heart." He shook his head lightly as if to shake his thoughts away. "I can't live without you — not a single day. I need you. Don't you know that by now?" Perry stepped back a bit and began rubbing his hands over her arms. Not quite looking at her he continued, "Perry Mason without Della Street… well, that just would never work." He ran one hand over her cheek. "You and your faith in me make me who I am. All I care about in life is your happiness. My mission in life, above all others, it to protect you and take care of you for the rest of your life. I was so worried that I couldn't do that."
At that moment, she understood a little better why he reacted as he had in front of Paul and Janet. She understood some of the distance he had put between them as he was trying to reconcile himself to possibly living without her. She buried her face into his chest and again breathed in the scent that was uniquely Perry Mason. After letting out a deep sigh, she softly said, "So this whole horrible mess...it's really over?"
Perry lifted her chin to look at her again. "Yes, honey, it's over," he assured her before softly, yet purposefully, kissing her again. "Why don't you go take a bath to help you unwind, and I'll get started on dinner."
"Alright," she agreed. Della turned to leave but suddenly turned back. "Perry, why did you burn that verdict? Weren't you at all curious?"
He smiled, what Della thought was an almost guilty smile, before avoiding her question. "As I said, there are some things I'd rather just not know." And one of those things was just how far he would go never to have to live one day of his life without her. Wasn't that what she had asked him? How far would you go for a friend? He would go pretty far for a friend. But for Della Street? That distance was immeasurable.
Della simply shook her head and turned away once again. She knew he wasn't telling her the whole story, but she also knew she could and would get it out of him.