Author's Note – sorry there's not much action in this chapter. It all starts happening after this!
The weekend came, and it was perfect weather for riding a motorbike. Unfortunately Dickie mumbled something about a case he was working on, a brief that needed to be submitted, and disappeared into his home office. Dickie had some habits that I didn't like. He was a workaholic and did more recreational drugs than I was comfortable with. And he had ambitions of being in politics one day. But he was a good lawyer and dedicated to his clients. From the look on his face I knew it was important and that he was close to making a breakthrough in his case. I'd be lucky if he reappeared before lunchtime, and after a week working at home, I wanted to escape. While I could go riding on my own, it wasn't as much fun.
I decided to see if Morelli needed any help moving or packing. Also I was totally nosy and wanted to see where he lived. I rang him and offered to bring bakery treats to his apartment to help with the move. He requested Boston Cremes and gave me his address. It was really was close by, only a few streets away. I picked up donuts and coffee on my way.
Morelli was surrounded by boxes in the middle of the modern apartment. I wasn't sure how his furniture was going to look in a row house.
"Thank you for the donuts and coffee. Did you want to help or were you just feeling nosy?" Morelli asked me.
"A little bit of column A, a little bit of column B," I told him. "My plans for this morning fell through, so I thought I'd see if you needed help."
I ended up helping Morelli pack his kitchen stuff into boxes. There wasn't much of it, but it did look like that it got used more often than my pots and pans do.
"My cousin Mooch is coming with a van this afternoon to move the furniture. I'm on my own for packing though. My mother offered to help, but then my grandmother would have come, and I don't want them going through my stuff."
"Your grandmother is scary."
"Tell me about it."
"Can she really give people the eye?"
"I tell myself that she can't. Sometimes I forget that though," Morelli said.
I left before Mooch arrived, not wanting to move furniture, and called Mary Lou when I was on my way home to update her. She wanted to know if I'd seen his underwear drawer and what type he wore. I reported that his plates were boring and his pans a bit used, and she hung up, disappointed. Mary Lou thinks about sex a lot more than I do. She definitely fell in love with her husband because of his body, not his mind. Lenny is a great guy, but he's not a deep thinker.
On Monday after I'd prepared another round of parcels and done my usual social media and website updates, and eaten a peanut butter and olives sandwich for lunch, Ella arrived with her usual plate of cookies for me. She admired the pile of parcels ready to go out.
"It looks like your business is really working out, Stephanie," she said.
"It really is. Once I got the first big push of orders, it all flowed from there. How is your business going, Ella?" I asked her. Ella was trying to build up her cleaning business to have more consistent work. I'd recommended her to a few of Dickie's colleagues but most people I knew cleaned their houses themselves.
"It's enough to keep me busy," she said. "I like having people to look after now my boys have all moved out of home. I wish that I had more people to cook for though."
"I really enjoy your cookies," I told her. I tried to make them last week but sometimes I accidentally ate them all by the time I went to bed on Monday night.
I decided to get out of Ella's way and took the parcel to the post office, then dropped by to see Mary Lou. Mikey was having a nap, and Kenny was playing with his Legos, so we actually got to talk to each other for once. Mary Lou made coffee while I pulled out the donuts that I'd bought on my way over. Kenny came over for a brightly coloured one and I put one aside for Mikey to have later.
"How is your business going, Steph?" Mary Lou asked.
"Pretty well. It's selling consistently, getting good reviews online, and it's just enough for me to handle on my own most of the time. Mom helped me out at one point, and Ella another day, but mostly I can get through it on my own. I need to start thinking about what we'll do next," I told her.
"Do you have any ideas?"
"I do but I need to work out which one is the most viable. I really want to create a range of lingerie that an intergalactic space princess would wear, since I always wanted to be one, but I'm not sure that would sell well."
"I heard that Princess Leia didn't wear any underwear at all," Mary Lou said. We both thought about this some more while we ate our donuts. "She probably did when she was older though," Mary Lou said, "because things tend to start shifting around. She looked like she was dressing for comfort later on."
I wondered what sort of underwear an older intergalactic space princess would wear. Comfortable yet ready for anything. They'd probably have some sort of new fabric. Maybe it would even be bullet proof. Although they'd probably have lasers. Laser proof bras? I needed to think about this some more.
After I said goodbye to Mary Lou I started to drive home but then impulsively decided to drive past Morelli's new house to see what it looked like. Then I immediately regretted it when I saw Morelli out in his front yard, putting his bins out. I tried to drive past but he spotted me and waved. Probably there weren't too many Mercedes driving around the Burg. I pulled over outside his house and rolled my window down.
"You just in the neighbourhood?" Morelli said to me, mimicking my words from when we met in the Deli.
"Visiting Mary Lou," I told him.
"Ah your old partner in crime. Good to hear that you're still together. Do you want a tour so you can give her a full report?" Morelli asked me. Nosiness won out and I got out of the car and followed Morelli into the house.
"You can see the living room, dining room. This is the kitchen. Upstairs is the bedrooms and bathroom. This is the backyard," he said, opening the door. It was a basic background, but it was fence. There was a garage out the back too.
"Do you want a tour of the garage?" he asked.
"Are you going to keep your hands to yourself?" I asked him.
"Probably. I think we're a bit old for playing train and tunnel," he said, pulling open the garage door. His truck sat in the driveway, so the garage was housing a few fold-up chairs, a barbecue that had seen better days, and a Ducati. My eyes lit up.
"I didn't know you had a bike!"
"You can't ride it," Morelli said.
"I have my own, we should go riding together one day," I told him. Morelli looked doubtful. "At least come by and I'll show you my bike."
"I'm headed over to my old apartment this afternoon to hand the keys back around 4pm, but then I probably won't be in the neighbourhood again," Morelli said.
"Ride your bike over and we'll go for a ride," I told him. At least with Ella being there the house will be clean. And we'll be chaperoned. I had no intentions of getting my underwear off around Morelli but it was better to be safe than sorry.
I heard a motorbike pull up outside the townhouse, and went to the door. Ella was finishing up in the kitchen and looked up.
"It's a friend from school coming to visit," I told Ella, feeling absurdly guilty. Having Morelli into my house seemed to be crossing a line that I wasn't even aware of before now.
"That's nice that you have a visitor," Ella said. I opened the door to Morelli and invited him in, taking him into the kitchen to meet Ella and offer him a cookie. The door to the garage was in the hall just next to the kitchen.
Morelli looked around the garage. It was clean, with storage cupboards for the motorbike gear. It contained my Mercedes, and the two motorbikes. Morelli whistled when he saw the bikes.
"So much power. Is Dickie compensating for something?"
"Nope. He has no need to compensate," I told Morelli.
"Let's go for a ride," Morelli said, grinning at me. I said goodbye to Ella, and we were off.
Being back on the bike was exhilarating. I hadn't been on it for a while but managed to keep up with Morelli. We'd been out for about an hour when we wound our way back to my house.
I pulled up outside the garage and dug into my backpack for the garage door remote. I'd just hit the button when Dickie's car pulled into the driveway. He parked inside the garage, then got out and strolled over to me.
"Detective Morelli," he said, nodding coolly at Joe, then leaned over at kissed me, possessively, jealously. "I decided to come home early and surprise you, I didn't think you'd be busy," he said to me.
"I was just leaving," Joe said, smirking. "See you around, cupcake." He started up his bike before I could tell him off for using that nickname.
"Why was he here?" Dickie asked me.
"I invited him to go for a ride," I said, conveniently leaving out all the details. No need to mention that I'd been to Morelli's house earlier today. Or the reason behind the nickname.
"Next time, wait for me," Dickie said.
"You're always working," I told him, rolling my eyes.
"I'm not working now," he said. "Bring your bike in. Have I ever told you how good you look on a bike?"
I took my bike into the garage. By the time I got into the house, Dickie had a bottle of wine opened and two glasses out.
"I'm sorry I've been working so much lately," he said, handing me a glass of wine.
"It's okay, I've been busy too," I said.
"I'm working really hard for us, Steph. For our future," Dickie said, looking at me intently.
I wondered where all this was coming from. Was he feeling guilty? Or was he that insecure that seeing Morelli here shook him up? I decided to start getting dinner ready and opened the fridge. Oh bless Ella, she'd made a salad to go along with the Deli lasagne that I'd pulled out of the freezer earlier.
"Steph," Dickie said, "I think we should have a baby."
I nearly dropped the lasagne. I needed more wine for this conversation.
"Why? We agreed that we'd wait until the time was right," I reminded him.
"I think the time is right," Dickie said. "My new job is going great, we have enough money. Step Two is going great. I thought maybe it was time to move to Step Three."
"This is a bit sudden. And my businesses is just getting started up. I need to focus on that right now."
"Steph, we've been married for six years. How much longer do you want to wait?"
"It's still a bit sudden. Give me some time to think it over, okay?"
Dickie had a plan which included going into politics with a wife and 2-3 adorable children at his side. A boy that took after his father, Dickie Junior, a girl who would have to take after her Aunty Val, and then a third. All impeccably dressed and well behaved. I wasn't sure how his plan was going to go with my genetics mixed in there. He was thinking long term – if he wanted to go into politics in his mid-forties, he needed to start working on his photo props now. Maybe he really did want children too, but he didn't really seem to like any of the kids that we knew. He might have been scarred after Eddie Gazarra's kids cut off a chunk of his hair when we babysat one night and fell asleep on the couch waiting for Eddie and Shirley to get home.
We ate the lasagne and salad mostly in silence, then moved to the couch. I watched TV and zoned out while Dickie played with his phone. It was an uncomfortable night in the Plum-Orr household. I texted Val for advice, but she didn't reply. And I suspected that her answer would be to have a baby.
My phone rang. It was my mother and she sounded frantic.
"Grandma has left!"
"What do you mean, left?"
"She had a fight with your father and she packed a bag and left! I don't know where she's gone! She called a taxi and left. It's 9pm at night, where would she go?" my mother said.
My doorbell rang. Uh oh.
"Uh, mom? My doorbell is ringing," I said, walking to the front door. I looked through the peephole. Yep. Grandma. "Sooooo Grandma is at the door," I said.
"Oh thank goodness. Is she okay?"
I sighed and opened the door.
"Come on in, Grandma. Mom is on the phone, she's worried about you," I told her. Grandma reached over and took the phone off me.
"Helen? I can't live with Frank anymore. I'm not coming home," she said, and hung up. She gave me a hug and pulled a huge suitcase inside.
When I was young and in trouble at home, I would always run to my grandparents. Out the back door, through the alley, one block down, one block over, and through a front door that always seemed to be left unlocked just for me. Grandma would make me a safe hiding place under a sheet draped between two chairs, and have cookies waiting for me when I was ready to talk. It looked like it was time for me to be the place to run to, which was a scary thought. I tried to think of what to do, and took Grandma into the kitchen and pulled out Ella's cookies and made us hot chocolates. Grandma pulled out a hip flask and added something into hers. I decided not to ask.
"I need to find my own place to live," Grandma announced, "I can't live with your fuddy duddy mother anymore, she's cramping my style. And your father, don't get me started."
"How do you think you're going to do that?" I asked her.
"I've got some money still from when I sold our house. I was saving it for if I needed it to go into a home, but I can use it for an apartment. My friend Rose lives in a nice complex. It's full of honeys," Grandma told me.
I heard a noise and looked up to see Dickie. He startled when he saw Grandma sitting there, huge suitcase beside her.
Here's the thing about my husband – he could charm the pants off anyone at all in the world, except my Grandpa Mazur. Grandpa Mazur didn't like Dickie one bit. I guess he thought that no one would ever be good enough for me. Because of this, Grandma Mazur has always been suspicious of Dickie and he looked a bit alarmed at the sight of her.
"Edna! What a lovely surprise," he said.
"Grandma's had a fight with my dad and needs somewhere to stay for a few days," I told him. He nodded.
"Well, you're welcome here. Should I take your bag upstairs?" Dickie asked Grandma. He looked over at me for confirmation. I nodded. Even with both of us having a home office, we still had a room for guests. He picked up her bag and carried it up the stairs. Grandma watched him closely.
"Your husband might be a horse's ass but he has a fine backside of his own," Grandma loudly announced. Oh dear. It might be a long couple of days until I could convince Grandma to move back home.