CHAPTER 7: ALLEGATION
Sunday, February 4
6:35 pm
Lennie got out of his car, distractedly thinking of the quickest way to get to their latest scene. He'd been paged while out visiting an old buddy in Rego Park, so he'd paged Rey to see if Rey could take first call for him, only to find that Rey was right next door in Forest Hills, dropping his kids off after the weekend. So he'd offered to pick Rey up on the way.
Let's see, if they could wrap up the crime scene within three hours he could still catch the Knicks game afterwards - he looked up, startled, as he heard Deborah's voice from an upstairs window.
"Yeah?! Go to hell!!"
"Very nice, scare the hell outta them, that's a good way to get back at me!!" Rey's voice shot back, then lowered and continued in Spanish. Deborah's angry voice came back, also in Spanish, climbing steadily and finishing with,
"You son of a bitch!!"
"Deborah!! Christ, they can still hear you, they're just in the basement!! Don't you give a shit about them?!" A few more angry words were exchanged in Spanish, and Lennie could tell that Rey was giving Deborah a piece of his mind, even though he couldn't understand a word. He swallowed hard. He'd never heard Rey talk to Deborah in that tone of voice before - didn't think he had it in him.
"GET OUT!! AND DON'T BOTHER COMING BACK!!" Deborah screamed, and a door slammed.
Lennie winced and started back to the car. Maybe he could pretend he just drove up and hadn't heard any of that. Rey came out of his house, looking grimmer than usual, spotted the car, and silently got in. Lennie hastily started the car and drove off. They drove in silence for a few minutes, until Lennie ventured, "You OK?"
"Just fine," Rey bit off his words.
"What happened?"
"I'm a son of a bitch who deserves whatever's coming to him and it doesn't seem to matter that our kids get put through the ringer while I'm being buried in a shitstorm. What do we know about the vic?" Lennie blinked, off-balance, having been sure that Rey would just do his usual avoidance routine. Not sure what to do about what Rey had just bitterly blurted out.
"Uh - not much. Middle-aged black woman, shot in her apartment. Probably Domestic."
"Good night for that kinda thing."
"Rey... are you gonna be able to work this scene?"
"Sure, why wouldn't I?"
Lennie pulled over and stopped the car. "I don't want you to-"
"Lennie, just drive."
"Rey-"
"Drive the fucking car!!" Rey slammed his hand against the car door and glared at him. "I just left my kids crying in the basement because my ex-wife called me every name in the book loud enough for the whole neighbourhood to hear, but other than that, everything's fucking FINE, so drive the goddamn car and let's get this thing over with so we can at least put the vic to rest!"
"Rey-"
"Or do I have to take a goddamn cab because you're so busy trying to play marriage counselor that you can't remember which fucking pedal to press?!"
Lennie wordlessly put the car back in gear. They drove for a few minutes, Rey staring out his window, then he rubbed his forehead and cleared his throat.
"Sorry."
Lennie grunted in acknowledgment.
Twenty minutes later they were at the scene. Lennie stopped the car and put a hand out as Rey undid his seatbelt. "You gonna be OK out there?" he asked, keeping his tone neutral and on-the-job.
"Yeah."
"You know, I can do this on my own. The call sounded like it was pretty simple."
Rey shook his head. "Thanks for the offer. I'm fine."
The next two hours were spent talking to witnesses, looking at the crime scene, making notes and gathering evidence on what seemed a pretty simple Domestic. Business as usual. Simple, easy.
"OK, that's that," Lennie said with relief as they wrapped up. 8:30 pm - he could still get in on time for the Knicks. "Where am I taking you?"
"My place," Rey said.
"You OK?"
"Yeah, fine. Oh, crap," Rey muttered to himself.
"What?"
"I was supposed to pick up some clothes I left at Deborah's. What the hell, she's probably tossed them out on the street by now."
"That bad?"
"We've had better days." He paused, then chuckled bitterly. "'We.' That's a laugh. Make that I've had better days. Let's go. Actually, hang on, you mind dropping me off at 12th and 47th instead?" Lennie gave him a puzzled look. "My gym."
"Hey, you wanna come over and watch the Knicks instead?"
"Watch other people exercising instead of doing it myself?" Rey chuckled. He thought for a minute. "Sure, why not. I won't have cable at my place till Thursday anyway."
===
Tuesday, February 6
8:18 pm
"So much for keeping your children out of it," Morelli commented dryly as they finished telling him about Sunday's fight. Morelli sighed at the guilty but resentful expressions on both of their faces. He'd seen this time and again as separations progressed - parents seemed to forget common sense and decency, went after each other like angry hyenas, and tore their kids apart.
"So. You started talking about Deborah wanting to go back to work and it degenerated into a shouting match, with the children crying in the basement. Why couldn't you just agree talk about it later, after the children were in bed?"
"After they're are in bed?" Deborah asked. "That's my time. He gets plenty of time to be on his own, read, whatever - after the kids are in bed is the only time I get that."
"I'm so sorry having sole custody's such a hardship, Deborah," Rey said sarcastically.
"Rey," Morelli said warningly.
Rey ignored him. "You want me to remind you that I had 'em all weekend? You had plenty of time to watch TV or whatever the hell you wanted to do."
"What the hell would you know about hardship, Rey? I spent the weekend cleaning up the house and trying to get back in shape so I can get my job back at the self-defence training centre-"
"Which I told you, you don't need to take. I'm paying you alimony, damn it, you don't need to-"
"Excuse me if I want to do something more with my life than clean my empty house all weekend."
"Except that you won't just be working on weekends, when I have the kids, you'll be working some weeknights too, when I'm on call, and then who's gonna take care of them?"
"Oh, you can't possibly move your own work around-"
"You knew that when I went into Homicide, you knew I was gonna be working long hours, we agreed that you-"
"I also thought you were going to be living at home!" Deborah stormed. "Not just taking the girls out for fun and games on the weekend, them worshipping you because you're not the one telling them to pick up their toys every day! Not leaving me to do all the drudgework while-"
"Don't you dare make this sound like I'm the one who abandoned the four of you!!" Rey shot back furiously. "You kicked me out-"
"Oh, I know, I've been such a bitch - especially compared to your little LA movie producer, I bet-"
"What the hell does she have to do with this?! I haven't even seen her in weeks!"
"You admitted last week you're still in contact with her."
"Yeah, I'm still in contact with her. And you wanna know why? Because she's smart and interesting and most of all because I don't have to prove myself to her. She's not judging me every second I'm talking to her. She's not attacking me over everything!!"
"Fine. Go to it then. Walk outta here like you did a few weeks ago, let her know the coast is clear and-"
"I said I'm attracted to her! NOT I want to leave you for her!! There's a difference!"
"Really? And I'm supposed to see this difference while you're telling me that you're attracted to another woman?!"
"You're the one who wanted honesty, well, you got it. I'm being real honest here."
"Thank you, that's so considerate of you."
"For what it's worth," Morelli put in, "I don't think Rey staying in contact with this woman is that difficult to understand, given the circumstances."
"What?" Deborah asked in disbelief.
"Deborah, I'm not saying it's acceptable," Morelli said impatiently, "But it's understandable. He's tired of seeing himself through your eyes."
"What?" Rey asked, irritated and confused.
"Seeing yourself as she sees you now. She sees you as somebody who can cheat and lie, somebody who's not trustworthy. It's no wonder you seek companionship from somebody who doesn't do that."
"Whatever," Rey muttered, and Morelli read from his expression that he was biting his tongue to keep from telling Morelli what he thought about this psycho-babble.
"You're not a bad person, Rey. It's difficult to deal with somebody who thinks you are." Morelli took in Rey's suppressed impatience and realized this angle wasn't going anywhere. Not surprising. Most of the men in his parish just didn't deal well with this kind of emotional self-examination, and Rey was no exception.
"So am I supposed to fall worshipping at his feet, let him know he's a big hero, so his feelings don't get hurt?" Deborah said sarcastically. "Is that the only way to save this marriage?" Rey glared at her in disgust, opening his mouth for another angry retort.
"Well, I don't know about you two, but I feel the need for a break coming on," Morelli said brightly, standing up. Deborah and Rey quickly got up and left as well, eager to get away from each other.
This was getting more and more difficult every week, Morelli thought to himself as he got himself a coffee. Rey and Deborah both had quick tempers, but before October they'd always stopped short of deliberately hurting each other. Unfortunately, now that they weren't holding back, their tempers were incinerating what little was left of their love for each other.
Morelli sipped his coffee, bracing himself to go back in. In some ways, this counseling, unpleasant as it was, was better than what they'd had when most of the hostility was coming from Deborah and most of the efforts at conciliation coming from Rey. Civilized as that had been, it had gone precisely nowhere, because Deborah wasn't really putting in an honest effort. But now they were both angry at each other, and both angry at themselves. It made for extremely volatile sessions. And it was anybody's guess whether these sessions would be worth it in the end.
"OK, where were we?" Morelli said as they came back.
"Nowhere," Deborah muttered. Morelli abruptly decided to change tactics.
"All right, then, why are we here?" Rey and Deborah both looked at him in surprise. "No, really. The last few weeks, I've heard nothing but... bitching, from both of you. Petty squabbles. I'm just not sure what we're doing here any more. Because from what you've told me, other than occasional fights in front of the children like last Sunday, most of the time you two do just fine when you're together outside of counseling. So why come here at all? You both said you wanted to keep trying... but what exactly are you trying for?" They stared at him, off-balance. "Rey?"
"Uh..."
"Why are you still coming here?"
"I want us to be a family again," Rey said impatiently.
"Which means?"
Rey frowned. "I'm tired of not living with my own kids."
"You still see them on weekends," Morelli pointed out.
"It's not the same. Olivia showed up with a missing tooth this weekend - I didn't even know she had one loose," Rey said uncomfortably. "And they... they don't deserve to get shuffled around between two single parents."
"What's wrong with that?" Morelli challenged. "I'm playing devil's advocate, of course, but I want you to think about this."
Rey considered the question for a moment, then shrugged. "It's just better for kids to have two parents. When I lived with them, Deborah could take Olivia and Isabel while I showed Serena how to tie her shoelaces, or, or I could take Serena and Isabel while Deborah taught Olivia her letters. That just doesn't happen when there's only one of us for three kids. They're missing out on a lot."
"Deborah?" Morelli prompted her.
"It's harder on them," Deborah agreed. "It's not how we wanted our girls to grow up."
"So you're doing this for the children." They both nodded. "What about for each other?" They looked at him blankly. "If you didn't have children together, would you still want to patch things up?" He read the sudden heightened discomfort in both of them, eyes avoiding each other, faces flushing slightly.
"I'll take that as a no," he said evenly after a moment.
Silence.
"Why not?" Rey and Deborah stared at him, nonplussed. "OK, let me guess. You've been tearing at each other for so long, gotten so deep into resenting each other and mistrusting each other, that you've pretty much forgotten that this started out as a good marriage. Worth saving in and of itself, not just for the sake of your children." Discomfort, eyes avoiding his. "And... I'm guessing you're realizing that your marriage will never be what it was. Am I right?" Shrugs. "Let's say you're right, it'll never be what it was. Does that mean it's worth throwing away?"
Rey drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, Deborah studied her nails, and Morelli suddenly felt tired of it all. At least for tonight. "OK. I'm going to wrap this up early today, but I want you to think about what I said and I'm going to give you some homework."
"Homework?" Deborah repeated blankly.
"Homework. For next week. I want you to write down what was good about your marriage before all of this. Write down why you fell in love, what it was that drew you to each other. Write down what happened when you decided to get married, when you decided to have children."
"Oh, for God's sake," Deborah muttered
Rey stared at Morelli askance. "You're not serious."
"I'm dead serious. Write down all of that, in detail. I know, I know, it sounds corny, and it probably is, but in my opinion it's worth a try. This constant screaming certainly isn't getting anybody anywhere."
===
Thursday, February 8
6:18 pm
Rey walked into his bachelor pad, putting away his jacket and getting himself a beer from the fridge.
Bachelor pad. Not the home of a married father of three, but a bachelor. Small, spartan, and echoingly empty sometimes, but it wasn't all bad. After all, if he didn't want to pick up dirty socks from the floor, nobody would care. He was a normally neat person, he didn't need a wife to nag at him to pick up after himself, but it was nice that if he forgot, she wasn't there to remind him. Nor did he have to keep the place tidy for the kids. Wednesdays and weekends, he'd make sure there were no photos of crime scenes or any other adult-only stuff lying around, and that was that.
Rey sipped his beer, debated finishing up the paperwork on the Mount Kisco hooker case versus doing his counseling 'homework'.
Homework. What a load of crap. He looked at the phone, debating calling Leesa instead.
He's tired of seeing himself through your eyes.
Another load of crap.
And yet... that might be the reason why he so often felt like calling Leesa after counseling. Because he didn't want the endless useless brooding that came after each of those lovely encounters with Deborah. Talking with Leesa was the closest he came these days to feeling the way he'd felt before his affair - no introspection, no guilt.
OK, don't be an idiot. Don't go calling Leesa to avoid this stupid thing - get it over with, then you won't have anything to avoid. Feeling unbelievably awkward, Rey sat down at his kitchen table and picked up a pen and paper.
What was good about our marriage before. Should that be a title? He put the pen down. This was ridiculous.
No, come on, you're making an effort. Think about the good times.
OK, Deborah cooking while he played with their girls. She loved to cook and he didn't, and when they were together, the girls could have both a game of tag and a good meal. Now, it was one or the other, because neither of them could do both. Deborah plunked them in front of the TV and he either fed them takeout or healthy, but unimaginative sandwiches.
No, he was thinking about the kids. He was supposed to be thinking of Deborah.
He thought back to their first days together. What was it that had first sparked his interest?
Harry's girlfriend's party. He'd been half-heartedly trying to pick up a girl from his English Lit class, who wasn't that interesting but had been sending signals all term. Absently thinking that if she kept playing coy, he just might give up for the night and join Pete Carreras, who was trying to out-drink some frat boys. Then he heard raised voices in the hallway, gave the EngLit girl some excuse, and got up to see what was going on.
"I said, no THANK YOU," a girl said very clearly, putting her hand on the chest of a big frat boy who was leaning towards her with a drunken grin on his face, keeping him from getting any closer. "Besides, I don't do Search and Rescue," she flicked her eyes down to his crotch in disdain.
Rey had snickered and taken a closer look at the speaker - a small, dark girl he vaguely remembered being introduced to at the beginning of the party. She hadn't made an impression on him then - he was into tall leggy elegant types, and she seemed shy and bookish. But this was a different girl - dark eyes snapping with anger, colour high, self-assured and obviously not one bit intimidated by the hulking oaf who towered over her boozily. Rey had stepped in.
"Problem?" he'd asked the girl. He'd fished around his memory for her name. "You OK... Deborah?"
"Fine," Deborah had answered through clenched teeth.
"Hey, she yours?" the frat boy had asked, sensing he'd made a mistake. Rey had glanced down at Deborah and judged that she was angry enough to take a swing at him if he went along with the frat boy and said she was 'his'. Thinking quickly, he'd decided to put her off balance and get rid of the stupid drunk at the same time.
"She's my sister," he said easily. "This guy giving you a hard time, Sis?" She'd gaped at him, then giggled despite herself as the idiot frat boy stumbled off quickly with a mumbled apology.
"You didn't have to do that. I was handling him myself," she said defensively.
"Yeah, I could see that," Rey grinned at her, trying to dispel some of her irritation. "But you shouldn't have to."
And he'd backed off, judging that, intriguing as she seemed, she probably wouldn't appreciate him putting moves on her right away.
But he'd remembered her fiery expression, her proud posture, her fearlessness, and been surprised and pleased to see her at chapel a couple of weeks later. Turned out she'd been attending about as regularly as he had (which was to say, whenever papers and exams allowed) and he just hadn't noticed her until that party. She was certainly on his radar now.
And everything had been so easy as they got to know each other and soon started dating. They thought the same way about so many things - religion, politics, family. Their backgrounds were similar. Even their Indian heritage, though his was South and hers North American, had been yet another sign that showed they were right together.
And they had been right together. They'd been everything a couple was supposed to be. Friends. Partners. Lovers.
How could he write any of that down?
How could he write down how he felt when he asked her to marry him and she said yes? How he felt the day they vowed to be together till death did them part? The day they first heard Olivia's heartbeat on the fetal monitor? The first time he came home from work to his wife and baby?
How could he write how he felt when she fell asleep with her arm over his chest, nestled into his neck, like he could keep her safe even while she slept? How he felt as he drifted off, the scent of her hair and the feel of her soft, warm skin lulling him to sleep?
Or when they were making love? When she was astride him, her head thrown back as she focused on her own pleasure. He'd gaze up at her enthralled, not knowing whether he was more intensely aroused by the feel of her body, by her enthusiastic response to every move he made or by the knowledge that she would turn all of her passion to his needs once she was sated. And she would take him higher than he thought possible, so that he sometimes felt like God Himself was blessing them both.
He shivered, turning his mind away from that particular memory of Deborah. It didn't do any damn good to fantasize about her, all that did was frustrate him. But it seemed that even safe memories did nothing but frustrate right now.
Safe memories like her running by his side through Central Park, so strong, so full of energy, despite having borne three kids. Her laughter when she told him about something funny the girls had done. Her eyes smiling at his when she came to the precinct to bring him lunch.
He felt his eyes burning and squeezed them shut. No, don't, he thought, anger warring with sorrow, this is ridiculous. He swept the notebook, pen and beer bottle off the table, chastising himself immediately for that stupid display of temper. Don't. Don't lose control.
Except there was nobody here who would care if he did. There was nobody here who would give a damn or even know if he cried like a child for hours or trashed his entire apartment.
There was nobody here, in this fucking empty bachelor pad. And it was his own damn fault.
He buried his head in his arms and stayed at the kitchen table, breathing deeply until the urge to give in to his sorrow passed. Then he impatiently wiped his eyes, cleaned up the mess from the broken beer bottle, and turned on the TV. He couldn't do this 'homework' right now. He couldn't do it at all.
===
Tuesday, February 13
2:32 pm
"Curtis residence," Deborah answered the phone crisply.
"Deborah, hi," Rey said hurriedly. "Look, I know it's counseling night, but - you know there was a cop shooting today?"
"I know, I heard on the radio. Robbery at a liquor store? You caught it?"
"Yeah, they uh, they carjacked a limo and took the driver. We think they'll probably try to skip town-"
"And you're going to be looking for them all day and you don't know if you'll make it to counseling tonight," Deborah guessed.
Rey paused. "I-I'm not trying to duck out. I didn't do the homework, but that's not why-"
"Rey, they're cop killers," Deborah said fiercely. "Don't worry about counseling. Go catch them, I'll reschedule with Father Morelli."
There was a slight pause on the other end of the line. "OK. Thanks."
Deborah hung up, fervently hoping Rey would hunt down the bastards but also somewhat amused at his phone call. That never would have happened when they were living together. An important case was an important case, and it never would have crossed his mind to apologize when the needs of the job occasionally came before their marriage.
===
Wednesday, February 14
6:32 pm
Deborah stood at the entrance to the living room, unobserved, taking in the scene. Olivia and Serena sat quietly watching a movie, Olivia on the floor and Serena next to Rey on the couch. Rey had fallen asleep, somewhat predictably, and Isabel had snuggled up to him and fallen asleep too. Now they lay together, her small hands clutching his sweatshirt, his arm holding her close protectively.
Rey had called to let her know he probably wouldn't be taking the girls tonight, even though it was his weeknight with them and even though they'd been looking forward to Valentine's Day with Daddy. He'd explained, his voice rough with fatigue, that he'd been up all night. They'd caught one of the cop-killers, Henry Harp, trying to leave town, but Harp had collapsed from a gunshot wound and been sent to the hospital. There, he'd told them that he would only say where the hostage was if they gave him an extremely sweet deal on the cop killing. The DA's office had given the police department ten hours to try to find the hostage before making the deal.
They were so close, Rey had told Deborah tiredly. They'd been so damn close to finding him, but they'd gone overtime and McCoy had pulled the plug and made the deal. And when they got to the hostage, they discovered he'd been dead the whole time. All their work for nothing, and now a cop-killer was gonna get fifteen years instead of the needle he deserved.
Deborah had listened to Rey's weary, discouraged voice and suggested he drop by anyway. Have his visit with the girls at home, since he wasn't in any shape to take them on his own. When he arrived, exhausted, she'd handed him some clothes that he'd left behind at Christmas, pushed him towards the stairs, and told him to just keep the girls company in the living room after he took a shower. She would cook for them all.
"You sure?" he'd asked.
"Hey, we missed our counseling fight this week," she'd teased gently. "So I'm feeling generous." He'd grinned wryly and headed upstairs.
Deborah smiled as she gazed at Rey and Isabel. Isabel's eyes were very much like Deborah's, and when she was awake she didn't look much like Rey. But now, their eyes closed, their faces close together and relaxed in sleep, it was easy to see the resemblance between them. Isabel's face was like a softened, smaller version of Rey's - cheekbones that would probably be high once she lost her baby fat, mouth and jaw the same shape.
She was so happy, in her own quiet way, whenever he was around. Isabel had been deeply affected by all of this. Olivia had been by turns whiny, nervous, and angry at Rey. Serena had grown rebellious and sullen with Deborah. But Isabel had just grown more and more quiet, unable to understand why Rey wasn't there any more, often gazing at their family portrait for long periods of time. And whenever he was around, she attached herself to him possessively, as she had now.
Deborah frowned pensively. Isabel shouldn't have to do that. This homey little scene shouldn't be an anomaly - it should be something they all took for granted.
And it wasn't just Rey's fault that it wasn't.
She knelt down next to him, gently shook his shoulder. "Rey," she whispered.
"Mm?" Rey slowly woke up.
"Rey, I have to wake up Isabel or she'll be up all night."
"Mm, right," he glanced down at Isabel, still snuggled close against his chest. Smiled as she wrinkled her nose slightly in her sleep. "I think I was dreaming about a dancing cucumber in a sombrero," Rey murmured, still a little out of it.
Deborah chuckled. "You weren't dreaming, that's the new Veggietales video the girls are watching." Rey glanced at the screen, where, sure enough, a cucumber was singing. With a tomato and an asparagus. No sombreros, though.
"How long were we asleep?" he asked.
"Not that long. About half an hour. I have to wake her up, but you should go upstairs, get some more sleep." He raised his eyebrows slightly and she smiled at him. "Go on. I'll save you leftovers and I'll wake you up when the girls are ready for bed, OK?"
===
9:30 pm
"They're asleep already?" Deborah asked as Rey came downstairs.
"I think Olivia's gonna be up a little longer. I left her nightlight on. Serena and Isabel are out cold."
"I'm surprised you were able to get them to go to sleep at all. They were really looking forward to seeing you today for Valentine's - I had to promise them chocolate treats tomorrow if they went to bed without a fuss."
"Oh, they were pretty good. They gave me their Valentine's cards and I promised I'd take them out for ice cream Saturday."
"Pretty good deal for them, then - chocolate and ice cream," Deborah chuckled. "How are you?"
"Better, thanks. I really needed that nap."
"Ready for dinner?"
"Oh - thanks." Rey sat down and gave an appreciative whistle as Deborah uncovered a plate of leftovers. Chicken, corn, steamed carrots, rice... quite a difference from his regular sandwich and salad. Deborah bustled about, cleaning the kitchen, before joining him at the table and asking him about the cop shooting. Partway through dessert, he put down his fork.
"Deborah... what's going on?"
"What?"
"Not that I don't appreciate this, but... what's going on with you?"
"You mean why didn't I just shove you out of here on three hours sleep and no food for god knows how long as soon as the kids were asleep?" Deborah smiled ruefully.
"I wasn't gonna put it that way, but... yeah."
Deborah shrugged. "It's Valentine's Day," she said dismissively. Rey looked at her skeptically, and she relented. "You said you didn't do the homework Father Morelli asked us to do... well, I did."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"And?"
"It made me think, that's all," she said uncomfortably. "About the way things were before. It just... it made me think."
"Me too," he said quietly.
"I thought you didn't do it."
"I didn't - I uh, couldn't write it down. But..."
"But we were pretty good together, weren't we?" Rey looked away from her. "Weren't we?"
"Yeah."
"Think we'll ever be like that again?" Rey shrugged, and Deborah reached for his hand hesitantly, saying, "I know I want that back."
Rey sighed tiredly. "Deborah, you've said that before. And, and then we try in counseling and..."
"I know." She stroked his fingers gently. "But... maybe if we can try to do this for us, not just for the kids... do you think that'll help?"
"Baby, I don't know what'll help any more," he said quietly, and they were silent for a long time.
Deborah cleared her throat. "How about wearing our wedding rings again, for a start?" she said brightly, and he chuckled.
"Sure, if that makes you feel any better. If you haven't tossed them both out." Deborah smiled at him and went to the kitchen cabinet, got out a small box and came back to the table. They gazed at the two gold bands in the box for a moment, then Deborah picked up Rey's and handed him hers.
"Might as well start somewhere," she said, slightly embarrassed. "Happy Valentine's Day?"
He chuckled tiredly again. "Sure. Whatever you say. Happy Valentine's Day," he slipped her ring onto her finger. They smiled at each other, both amused at the silly symbolism of the moment, but also comforted by the hopefulness of the simple act.
===
Wednesday, February 27
1:30 pm
"Mr. Newman told us he was in Los Angeles the night of the murder, but later we determined he was in New York," Rey said on the stand two weeks later.
"Did Mr. Newman tell you anything about his ex-wife?" McCoy asked.
"Yes, he said he suspected she was having a sexual relationship with her personal trainer."
"Thank you," McCoy said, and sat down.
"Did Mr. Newman seem upset about this supposed relationship?" Ms. Joyner, one of Newman's attorneys, began the cross.
"He seemed to shrug it off," Rey replied. "But later we determined he was prone to fits of jealous violence while they were married."
"And you learned that from whom? The detective who planted evidence against Mr. Newman?"
"Objection!" McCoy called out.
"I'll rephrase: from the detective who allegedly planted evidence against Mr. Newman?"
"It was corroborated by other officers," Rey clarified, irritated that Det. Miller's idiocy, proven or not, still had to be an issue.
"Friends of the detective who allegedly planted evidence against Mr. Newman."
"Objection!"
"Sustained."
"OK, Detective Curtis. Let's talk about your friends," Joyner said easily. "When you first flew to California, you weren't after Mr. Newman, were you?"
"No, at that time we had another suspect."
"Evan Grant, Heidi Ellison's personal trainer."
"Yes."
"But you changed your focus to Eddie Newman after you began a sexual relationship with a woman who hates Eddie Newman, isn't that right?"
What? "I don't know what you're talking about," Rey said, honestly baffled.
"You don't know Leesa Lundquist?" Joyner asked skeptically.
"Yes, she's an executive at Mattawin Studios," he answered, irritated at the non-sequiturs. All of a sudden he put two and two together, and didn't like the answer he got. He glanced down at McCoy, who was staring at him intently.
"Where Eddie Newman has consistently thwarted her desire for promotion."
"I wouldn't know anything about that."
"You don't know he refused to have his movies supervised by the woman you were sleeping with?"
"Hey I wasn't sleeping with Miss Lundquist-"
"Oh? She spent the night in your hotel room for a script conference?"
"I wasn't even in the room that night!" he protested. Why the hell was McCoy just sitting there?!
"Is that why she came to visit you in New York a week later? Because she liked sleeping in empty hotel rooms?"
"Objection!" McCoy said hastily. Finally. Rey glared at him.
"Sustained."
"Was Leesa Lundquist sleeping with that other detective too? Were you all framing Eddie Newman together?"
"Objection!"
"Sustained! That's enough, Miss Joyner."
"I'm sorry, Your Honour. I have nothing further for this witness," Joyner said disparagingly.
===
"Hey! What the hell's the matter with you, McCoy? Why didn't you stop that sooner?" Rey asked furiously as they exited the courtroom.
"I might have been able to if you'd told me about it!" McCoy snapped back, equally angry. One thing he hated was surprises in the courtroom. He'd been caught flat-footed by something that he should have been informed about. Curtis and Briscoe weren't that naive, they should have known that they needed to at least let the prosecutor know that one of them had slept with a witness before taking the stand, for God's sake.
"There's nothing to tell!" Rey fumed back, and stalked off, Lennie following behind.
"What was that about?" Jamie asked McCoy curiously.
"Just a little upset his wife's about to find out he had an affair on the evening news," McCoy informed her. Great. Of all the times for Det. Holier-than-thou Curtis to be a human being and do something indiscreet, it had to be during the media circus that was the Ellison trial. McCoy reflected bitterly that it would serve Curtis right if his wife walked out on him over this. He'd done something far more unforgivable in Jack's eyes than break marriage vows. He'd thrown a wrench into McCoy's case.
"I told you, you shoulda gone to bed with her," Lennie pointed out to Rey, handing him his coat. "You're getting the grief, you shoulda had the gravy."
Rey rubbed his forehead in dismay as they started down the courthouse steps. Shit. There was just no way in hell that this wouldn't make it onto the evening news. The Heidi Ellison trial was high profile - no way the media wouldn't jump all over the fact that the defense alleged one of the investigating detectives had slept with a witness.
And Deborah was sure to see it.
Fuck.
Just when things seemed to be going better with Deborah. Just when they were doing so damn well in counseling, when they were spending a bit of time together when he picked up or dropped off the girls, when they were actually starting to talk about him moving back in some day...
And over a woman he hadn't even wanted to get involved with. Well, OK, a woman he'd very much wanted to get involved with, but whom he'd tried to keep at arm's length precisely so that he wouldn't be tempted to screw up again.
"Thanks a lot, Lennie," he muttered.
"Oh so now this is my fault?"
"It wasn't even my idea to go out with her in the first place!" Rey snapped at him.
"Hey, I just thought you might actually relax a little," Lennie pointed out humorously. "'Cause I gotta tell you, you've been a real joy to work with since your split-up, a real ray of sunshine, pardon the pun."
"What, if I got laid I might be easier to work with? Gimme a break," Rey said in disgust.
"There is a whole world out there, you know. And I don't know if you've noticed, but there's some very attractive women in it."
"You're full of it. You've been complaining that I need to relax since the day we started to work together, only now all of a sudden it's 'cause I'm not getting any."
"No, it's because you're hanging on to something that's gone," Lennie dropped his joking tone. "Deborah's not the only woman in the world."
"Look, I don't know what I was thinking the day that - but I do know what part of me I was thinking with. That's what got me into this mess. So I've kept zipped, thanks a lot."
"Yeah, and it's done you a lotta good. You know Deborah's gonna hear about this. And she's not gonna believe that you were your regular saintly self with Leesa. Give it up, Rey. It's over."
Rey didn't bother to answer him as they got into the car and drove back to the precinct in uncomfortable silence.
===
Back at the precinct, Rey picked up a note on his desk and frowned. Damn. He couldn't handle this right now.
"What's that?" Lennie asked.
"Leesa's in town, she wants me to call her back," he sighed heavily, feeling a headache coming on.
"Oh, no, a beautiful woman wants to see you. Write to Dear Abby. Wish I had problems like that. Oh, sorry, I forgot, it's my fault you're in this terrible situation," Lennie took out a file and started to work. The hell with trying to help Rey through his marital breakdown anyway.
Rey crumpled up the note and tossed it into the trash, then regarded Lennie for a long moment. "OK, I'm probably gonna regret saying anything, but here goes." He waited until Lennie looked up and tried to speak calmly. "Look, I know how you feel about marriage. Everybody knows how you feel about marriage."
"OK," Lennie nodded to him to continue.
"Me, I like being married. I'd like to stay married. Can you get that?"
"You're not married, Rey," Lennie said bluntly.
"I'm separated," Rey countered evenly. "Separated is not the same as divorced."
"Potato, po-tah-to," Lennie said dismissively. Rey felt his forced calm start to erode.
"Just because your marriages failed, you wanna make sure everybody else's do too? You wanna pull everybody down to your level?"
"You're just hanging on while she plays you-"
"I'm the one who screwed up!" he exclaimed, exasperated, then lowered his voice, remembering they were in the squad room. "Deborah didn't do anything wrong! I've been pissed off at her for keeping me hanging but it's my fault we're in this mess in the first place! So back off!"
"You committed adultery, Rey, not murder. Get over it." Rey opened his mouth for a retort but Lennie continued. "So she had a right to be pissed off. There's a big difference between being pissed off and keeping you hanging for months. What is this, you go to counseling, you don't go to counseling, you can stay over, you can't stay over, get your own place, don't bother, come on home-"
"I fucked up!!" Heads turned and Rey breathed in to calm himself. "It's my fault! I have to take responsibility for that!" he said, still angry but trying to at least keep his voice down. Trying to ignore the little voice in his head reminding him that a big part of him agreed with everything Lennie was saying.
"And how long are you gonna let her make you pay for one mistake? When are you gonna decide enough is enough and get on with your life?"
"Get on with my life - what life? Being 'young and unattached' and being a weekend Daddy? That was good enough for you, it's not good enough for me! I don't want that for my daughters!!"
"Kids get over it."
"Yeah? Remember that great little lunch you had with Cathy? That sound like she got over it?" Lennie's eyes narrowed and Rey knew he'd scored a hit. "You think I wanna hear that from my own daughters?"
"That's a cheap shot," Lennie said tightly. Rey felt a brief flicker of guilt - that really had been a bit over the line, but what the hell. Lennie had been stepping way over a lot of lines lately too.
"Think that's a cheap shot? Here's another one. You're not supposed to drink. How would you like it if I kept after you, telling you it's no big deal, I drink all the time, why don't you have just one drink, Lennie, help you relax, feel a little better, come on, who would it hurt-"
"Lay off!" Lennie turned his back on him.
"Feels nice, doesn't it?"
"It's not the same thing!"
"The hell it's not! Drinking screwed up your life and being unfaithful screwed up mine!" he shot back angrily, not caring who overheard them. "I don't ever wanna do that again! I felt like shit afterwards, I felt lower than dirt, and you know damn well what that feels like! And I am NEVER gonna feel that way again!!"
Profaci cleared his throat and leaned over their desks. "Hey, fellas... you wanna take this outside?" he suggested politely, nodding at the squad room full of people trying to ignore their rather vocal argument. Rey blew out his breath in frustration, fighting down the urge to tell Profaci exactly where to shove his helpful advice. This wasn't Profaci's fault, and Profaci was right, this wasn't the best place for him and Lennie to air out their disagreement. He pulled out a file and tried to figure out something to do to take his mind off this useless debate with Lennie. And take his mind off what Deborah's reaction would be when she watched the news tonight.
"So, you gonna call Leesa back, or hasn't it occurred to you that she wants to be more than just friends?" Lennie asked sarcastically. Rey's resolve to keep his mouth shut evaporated and he tossed down the file he'd just picked up.
"What, you think it just didn't occur to me to sleep with her?" he glared at Lennie. "You think I'm blind, I don't even notice a pretty girl who's coming on to me?"
"That's what it looks like, yeah."
"You think I don't wanna sleep with her? You think it's been easy watching late night movies and getting real friendly with myself on a regular basis again? It hasn't! But I'm not gonna hop into bed with another woman just to scratch an itch for a couple hours! Not when there's a chance I might still save my marriage!"
"I know all about trying to save marriages, remember?"
"You know all about not saving marriages. Maybe if you'd tried just a little bit harder you mighta saved yours, ever think of that?"
"That didn't have anything to do with trying, I was an alcoholic-"
"Yeah, that's what you say. You know what? I don't believe in alcoholism, I think it's just an excuse. Lemme prove it to you, just have one drink, Lennie, just one, come on, you can do it-"
"Lay off!" Lennie was getting really pissed off now.
"Come on," Rey wheedled, "vodka's whatcha had that night, don't you want any right now? Or maybe whiskey? Or gin, that's really good with-"
"Shut up!!" Lennie looked down, trying to ignore Rey by looking at the report he'd been working on.
"And you know what?" Rey dropped his voice to a friendly banter, "I won't even tell anybody, so c'mon, what's the harm? Let's just go to a bar, Lennie, you find a good one, you know every bar in Manhattan, and you and me, we'll have a couple drinks. I'll pick up the first girl I see and you can get good and drunk like you did the day Mickey Scott died, and nobody's ever gonna know. I know I'll feel better, no back issues of Hustler for me tonight, and how about you, I bet you'd really like-"
"BACK OFF!!" Lennie shouted at him. Heads turned in the squad room. Van Buren looked over at them and pursed her lips, her eyebrows shooting up.
Rey backed off. Things had to be pretty bad for Lennie to lose his temper like that, and he'd pushed pretty hard. But at least he'd shut Lennie up.
===
Half an hour later, Profaci wandered over to their desks, studying an arrest report as he approached. "Hey, Curtis-"
"What?!" Rey snapped irritably.
"What the hell is with you two today?" Profaci asked, annoyed as Rey had seldom seen easygoing Profaci be.
"Nothing," Rey muttered.
"Nothing? The two of you've been snapping at each other all afternoon like an old married couple-"
"Funny you should put it like that, Profaci," Lennie interrupted caustically.
"Why's that?"
"I'll tell you what's wrong with Rey, this afternoon the defense brought up our fine young married detective's affair with a witness-"
"What?!" Profaci's eyebrows shot up and he stared at Rey in surprise.
"-only our fine young detective didn't actually have an affair, because he's still hung up on-"
"Because he's still married!" Rey broke in, furious. "Would you get that through your head? We're not all like you, Lennie, we can't all screw up our families and still sleep just fine at night!!"
"Curtis and Briscoe, in my office! Now!" Van Buren's firm voice snapped out over the suddenly subdued squad room.
===
"Look, uh... I'm sorry," Lennie said awkwardly as he sat himself back down at his desk, after a rather thorough reaming out from Van Buren for both of them and a long walk around the block for Lennie. "Believe it or not, I was trying to help."
"I know," Rey didn't look up from the interview notes he was transcribing.
"You're right though, I'm not the biggest groupie the institution of marriage has ever had."
"No, you're not."
"Can I do anything?"
"Don't try to help." Rey looked up as soon as the words were out of his mouth, aware that that had come out somewhat more brusquely than he meant it to. He met Lennie's eyes and smiled slightly, taking the sting out of his words. Lennie smiled back, glad to have things back out of hostile territory.
"Fair enough." Lennie paused for a second. "So uh... back issues of Hustler?" he asked humorously. Somehow he just couldn't picture clean-cut Rey buying Hustler. Rey grinned sheepishly.
"OK, OK, Playboy. I was trying to make a point. I didn't want you to make some smart-ass comment like 'don't you buy Playboy just for the articles.'"
"You mean you don't?" Lennie asked in mock dismay. Rey chuckled, then sobered and regarded Lennie seriously for a moment.
"Lennie, I'm uh - I'm sorry too. That was some pretty low blows I pulled about your daughter and drinking and all that."
"Forget it." Lennie cleared his throat. "Look, for what it's worth... I do hope you work this out."
"Yeah, I know," Rey picked up his pen again and absently transcribed another couple of lines. "You just don't think there's a snowball's chance in Hell."
There was a brief silence as Lennie wisely kept his mouth shut.
"Me neither," Rey said softly, still writing automatically. "Not after this afternoon."
"No?" Lennie looked at him more closely.
Rey shook his head. "I have to try, though. It's not over until I sign the divorce papers. Until then, there's still a chance."
"Would you sign? Or contest it?"
"No." Rey put his pen down. "If it gets that far, I won't contest it." He stared at his notes, not looking up at Lennie, but not working either. "It's just... I wasn't supposed to do anything like that, you know? Break my vows. It's a big deal to me. I wasn't... this wasn't supposed to happen."
"It's never supposed to happen," Lennie said gently. Rey shrugged. "Why's it such a big deal?" Lennie asked curiously. Rey was quiet for a moment.
"You remember about a year ago, we had that case with the doctor who was cheating on his wife with hookers? And you said any guy who could get away with it would do it in a second?"
"And you asked me what gutter I was raised in," Lennie recalled their conversation pretty well. He'd called Rey 'Cardinal Curtis' or something.
Rey sighed. "I was raised in a gutter too," he admitted. "At least when it came to cheating. My old man, he went to church, we all did. We went every Sunday, took Communion, did Confirmation, my brother and me were altar boys... and my old man grabbed at every skirt that came his way. Damn hypocrite," he said bitterly. "I saw what that did to my mother. I never wanted to be like that."
"You're not like that. It was once, Rey."
"For some things, once is all it takes."
===
Friday, February 29
7:30 pm
"It's not true," Rey told Deborah, his voice low so the girls wouldn't hear too much. "I know what they said on the news, but it's not true. I told you what happened with her."
"That's nice, Rey," Deborah replied icily. "It's nice to hear that now that we're separated you're being faithful. If only you could have been faithful while we were married, this wouldn't even be an issue."
"Deborah." Rey blew out his breath, tried again. "She's attractive. I... I spent some time with her. I told you that. But I wasn't unfaithful to you."
"How do I know this isn't some little evasion, telling me you were faithful when really, you slept with her after you signed the papers so technically, that's not actually infidelity-"
"You wanna hear it straight? I never went to bed with her. Before or after we signed those papers, which were your idea, not mine!"
"Coats everybody, it's time to leave," Deborah said to the girls, cutting him off.
"Can't Daddy come home?" Olivia asked plaintively.
"Not tonight, baby," Rey told her. "Come on."
Olivia lifted Isabel down from the windowsill and carried her to the front door to put on their coats and boots.
"You don't believe me," Rey picked up their conversation after the girls had gone past.
"I do believe you, Rey, that's the problem," Deborah replied, keeping her voice low too. "I believed everything you said for nine years."
"Then why don't you believe me now?"
"I don't like feeling like this - everything is open to question."
"Not you and me. Not the girls. That's real, you know that's real," Rey said, thoroughly frustrated. She gazed at him, searching his face for any hint of deception, finding only an ardent wish to make her believe him.
Did that come from a cheater's desire to cover his tracks again? A desire to have a wife and kids and other women on the side whenever he felt like it? That age-old male drive to have his cake and eat it too?
Or was this just Rey, the man she loved, the man who'd risked their marriage when there was no reason for him to do so, because he couldn't live with having lied to her? Rey, who had written a letter to her telling her how much he loved her despite his betrayal, how much it killed him to have betrayed her even just once?
Which one was he?
"Daddy," Serena called out, interrupting the moment. "Pick me up."
"Yeah, baby," Rey said, breaking off their gaze and moving over to Serena. He picked her up and drew closer to the window. "You wanna see-" he broke off as his phone rang, and glanced back at Deborah. "Can you get that?"
Deborah picked up the phone. "Hello?"
"Hello?" said a woman's voice. "This is Leesa Lundquist, is Rey there?"
"Yes..." Deborah said, feeling herself go numb. "He's here."
"Who is it?" Rey asked, turning from the window, still holding Serena. So innocent-looking. Son of a bitch.
"It's your girlfriend."
===
"Hi," Leesa began apologetically as Rey approached her table and sat down.
"Hi."
"I usually have a better sense of timing." Rey looked away, not particularly wanting to think of the scene that had just transpired at his apartment.
"Want me to tell her what a loyal husband you were?" Rey looked down. "Guess not," Leesa finally said.
"I'm gonna do whatever it takes," Rey said firmly. "I gotta get back with her and the kids."
"So. That's a no on the job offer," Leesa paused. "And on me."
There wasn't anything to say to that, so Rey didn't bother. "You know what's going on."
"Well at least you didn't turn out to be gay," Leesa joked weakly. Rey didn't respond, and Leesa changed the subject. "I called Jack McCoy and told him that I want to testify."
"About what?" Rey asked skeptically. "All the times we almost had sex?"
"No, about what the defense said. How I influenced you because I don't like Newman."
"You didn't influence me."
"I don't like Newman. He messed with my career, he was mad at Heidi for messing with his... you think he wanted to be directing "A Tale of Two Yogis"?"
"He sure looked like he did."
"He spent five years developing An American Madam Bovary. Heidi put it in turnaround. He was furious."
"Why didn't you tell us before?"
"I couldn't prove it without accessing confidential files. Which means I'd be looking for a new job." Leesa paused for a moment, then pulled out a thick folder and handed it to him. "Here. Everything Mattawin Studios knows about Eddie Newman."
Rey took it, astonishment clearing away his discomfort being here with her. "Why?"
"I'm in a funny business, Rey. Everybody talks like hippies and acts like they're in the Sicilian mob." Leesa sighed deeply. "I'm tired of it."
===
Saturday, March 1
10:30 am
"Oh my god," Jamie muttered to herself as she leafed through the memos. Rey had given Jamie a call and they were meeting at her house, with McCoy, to go over what Leesa had given him.
Rey rubbed the back of his neck, waiting for them to finish reading. He'd read over the memos last night, and unless there was some stupid legal reason why they couldn't be used in the trial... they just might nail Newman's coffin shut.
They were almost certainly going to nail the coffin on his marriage shut. Even though he'd said goodbye to Leesa for good, told her they couldn't keep in touch any more, it was too little, too late. It probably wouldn't make any difference to Deborah, she probably wouldn't even believe him. She certainly hadn't believed him about him not having slept with Leesa as she left his place with the girls last night, coldly telling him that he'd be hearing from her lawyer about their divorce.
One step forward, two steps back, as it had been from the beginning. Well, tomorrow he was going to go back and try to talk to her again, try to get her to...
No. He couldn't. He just couldn't. Knowing that he might be able to get her to come around after this crisis, but the next time the slightest thing happened they'd be right back to square one... no.
"I'm gonna do whatever it takes," he'd told Leesa, but he realized now that it just wasn't true. He was willing to do a hell of a lot, and breaking off contact with Leesa was a big step, but... there were limits. There had to be.
"These memos are good," McCoy commented, looking up. "Heidi Ellison definitely put the kaibosh on Newman."
"So it was all worthwhile," Rey said ruefully. "I'll tell my kids in twenty years."
===
Sunday, March 2
9:30 pm
"Deborah... look, I'm willing to try, OK?" Rey said the next day, after the girls were in bed. "Whatever you want. I'll do it. I know I was wrong. I know it's my fault. But..."
"But what?"
"But I can't live with this on and off thing. I'm sorry, I'll do whatever you want except keep going back and forth. You want me to check in with you every hour on the hour, you want Lennie to call you and let you know I'm working late and not with some other woman - hell, you wanna check up on me with LT if you don't trust Lennie, fine. I'll find a way to make it possible. But don't - don't keep doing this. This 'now we try, now we don't'. I can't take it any more."
"I-I told you I believe you about Leesa, now. That you didn't - and that you aren't in contact with her any more. I told you I was willing to go back to counseling-"
"Yeah, but it took four days and you yelling about divorce in front of the kids before you finally calmed down and believed me," Rey broke in. He took a deep breath. "I can't do this any more. Same with staying overnight and then getting kicked out. I can't take being jerked around like this."
"So if I push you away again, that's it? You won't come back? Is that what you're saying?" Rey hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Is this an ultimatum?" Deborah asked, her voice carefully neutral.
"I guess it is. I don't mean it that way, but yeah, I guess it is," Rey said quietly.
"This isn't fair."
"None of it's fair. Deborah, I know you need to work things out. But please, work them out with me."
Deborah bit her lip and nodded. "I'll need to think about it," she said softly.
"I know."
"I think... maybe you should go."
"Yeah." He got his jacket and went to the front door. "Call me, OK?"
"I will." She opened the door for him and he stepped through, stopping when he felt her hand on his back. He turned.
"I love you," she said, looking down and swallowing hard. "You know that, right?"
"I know. Me too." She drew closer to him and hugged him, and they were silent for a long time, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally she pulled away and kissed him. The kiss started out gentle and chaste, but without knowing who initiated it, they found themselves embracing passionately. Rey felt his knees growing weak as Deborah made a small noise in her throat, drawing him closer, pressing herself up against him. Oh, God, he wanted this so much-
"Wait, wait," he said urgently, his voice rough. She kissed the spot near his ear that always drove him crazy and he almost gave in. "Deborah, stop," he whispered, trying to catch at her hands as they caressed him.
"Why?" She ran her hand up his arm, making him tremble. He wound his hand into her hair, so soft, so silky, God, he missed this so much...
"No, baby, stop, we can't," he murmured, unable to stop himself from running his hands down her back, to her waist, feeling the rightness of their bodies melding together again. No, no, no. Stop this, he told himself firmly. "I don't - I don't wanna just hop into bed and forget everything for a couple hours." She kissed him and he responded, feeling his resolve falter, knowing he wouldn't be able to say no if she really wanted to keep going.
"Why not?" she murmured, nibbling at his ear again, making it extremely difficult to focus on anything other than the sensations spiking through him, short-circuiting his powers of reasoning.
"Oh god," he moaned, willing himself to keep his mind clear. "Hon, don't do this to me," he caught her hands firmly, stopping himself from touching her as he stopped her from touching him. "We'll have sex and everything's gonna be just like before and then tomorrow morning you'll kick me out again and we'll be even worse off and that just - that kills me, OK?" She looked at him seriously, eyes dazed with arousal, but thinking about it.
"I won't kick you out," she murmured, softly touching her lips to his. He kissed her back, helplessly allowing the kiss to grow deeper, wishing he didn't want this so damn much.
"Oh, don't, baby," he whispered between kisses. He buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent and wishing so much that this was as right as it felt, but knowing it wasn't. "You will. I always hope you won't but you do. It - it breaks my heart, I can't take it any more." He held her tightly, chest heaving, his entire body screaming at him to shut up and just take what she was offering, what she obviously wanted too, and worry about the consequences tomorrow.
They were silent for a few moments, catching their breath, clinging to one another, frustration coursing through them both. Then Deborah spoke up hesitantly. "What if we both decide tonight that you're going back to your place tomorrow?"
He tried to think it over logically, knowing he wasn't really in any position to be logical, not with his hormones clamoring at him to agree to whatever Deborah wanted if it got them into bed. Not with her trembling in his arms and them so close, so close to where he wanted them to be. But... it seemed to make sense. No back and forth internal debate, telling his heart not to hope too much while his heart went ahead and hoped anyway. No dreading that the night would end in bitterness and disappointment. Up-front expectations clearly defined.
He breathed in deeply, gazing into Deborah's longing eyes, and hoped he wasn't being too much of an idiot, agreeing just because they both needed this so much. "OK," he said, and their mouths met again as they both sighed with relief and Deborah pulled him back into the house. He pushed the front door closed behind him, their passion rising until they were almost tearing each other's clothes off, laughing breathlessly at their impatience in between kisses, stumbling on their way to the bedroom. Oh God, thank You, he thought fervently as she pushed him back onto the bed and he pulled her down with him, gratefully taking her slight weight on him as she worked on his belt feverishly.
===
Monday, March 3
9:35 am
The next day at work Lennie scowled at Rey as Rey cheerfully typed up a file.
"What the hell's the matter with you?"
"What?"
"You look like the cat that swallowed the canary."
Rey chuckled at Lennie's disgruntled expression. "Since when is it a crime to be in a good mood?"
"Since I turned fifty and realized it's damned unnatural to be cheerful first thing in the morning."
Rey grinned and kept typing.
"What's with you?" Rey shrugged. "How'd it go with Deborah?" Lennie ventured.
"OK."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," Rey smiled unconsciously, saving his work and picking up another set of interview notes, tapping it absently.
"You're not wearing yesterday's clothes, so you didn't stay over..." Lennie mused. Rey's eyes twinkled with amusement as he looked up from the notes.
"You just can't let a mystery go by unsolved, can you?" Lennie stared at him, grumpy but intrigued. Normally his curiosity was highly annoying to Rey.
"If you have to know, I did stay over last night. Went back to my place this morning."
"And you were OK with that?"
"Yeah, we decided last night."
Lennie's eyebrows went up. Wha...?
"You need any more details?" Rey asked seriously. Lennie scowled at him and Rey tried unsuccessfully to suppress a chuckle at Lennie's dour expression. "'Cause if you want, I can tell you all about-"
"Stop, no, that's fine, I just ate," Lennie interrupted.
"You sure? I mean, I don't want you sitting there wondering-" Lennie mimed a slap at Rey's head, and Rey ducked, laughing at him.
"Get back to work, Junior," Lennie groused, amused but as usual a little disconcerted whenever Rey showed the slightest glimmer of a sense of humour. It was just so out of character for him.
Rey went back to work and Lennie gazed at him in complete bewilderment for a moment. He couldn't understand this at all. But it seemed to work for Rey, so whatever. Welcome to Separations of the Young and Foolish.
