I was in a good mood, a great one, really. Quitting time Friday tends to
bring out the best in me anyway, but especially since I had a hot Saturday
night to look forward to. I'd had two dates already with Lt. Ed Fazzoli,
and while I hadn't been practicing signing my name as "Dee Dee Fazzoli", I
planned to make the obligatory visit to Victoria's Secret soon just in
case. The old tried and true white cotton briefs are worth their weight in
gold during three AM stakeouts, but, well, a girl's got to be prepared,
that's all I'm saying.
But there was a dark cloud on my horizon that stood six feet six inches tall and loomed over my left shoulder as I uncapped a tube of deep red, "I'm hot and I know it" lipstick. It was to keep my lips from chapping, I told myself, but the mirror and I both knew the truth. I was on a roll and since that didn't happen very often, why tempt fate?
"Hot date?" my partner, Sergeant Rick Hunter, the aforementioned dark cloud asked, staring at my reflection in the compact I held in my hand.
I watched my face redden to a shade that nearly matched my carefully painted lips. "No," I said. I was, in fact, going straight home tonight. Withholding information isn't the same as lying.
"Still going through that dry spell, huh, McCall?"
I wasn't looking at Hunter, but I could feel his one sided smile, digging a dimple into his left cheek. I also felt a bald face lie coming on. I don't know why I hadn't told him about Fazzoli. I just knew I didn't want to. "Can you spell Sahara?" I said, snapping my compact closed, pleased at my non-response answer. I should be in politics.
He spun my chair around and I was out in the open. "That's hard to believe with lips like those," he said with a lecherous grin that I knew all too well. "Wanna try 'em out tonight, you and me?"
I giggled and rolled my eyes. This was the game we played. Elbow in the ribs, wink, wink, but we both knew that it was just for show.
"Dee Dee."
I heard my name and turned toward the voice. Ed, all five feet ten of him, was smiling as he strode toward me. He was handsome in that rugged kind of way that doesn't show up in pictures but attracts a lot of female attention, including mine. He had a bit of a reputation as a player, but honestly, I didn't mind. Like I said, I wasn't thinking in terms of long term commitment. I had indeed been going through a dry spell and I figured since no one wants to hire you when you're unemployed, why not work it?
Ah, hell. That's the biggest lie I've told so far. The truth is, I was lonely, and no one else was asking, so I lowered my standards and had two of the better dates I've gone on in the last two years. So much for standards.
Ed Fazzoli came up behind me and squeezed my shoulders. "I'm looking forward to tomorrow night," he said, those being the exact words I didn't want him to say. At least not in front of Hunter. Why hadn't I told him? He was my partner, my best friend, a brother, a father, and the Ayatollah Khomeini of my dating life all rolled into one strikingly handsome hard body. I saw a flash of anger shoot from his blue eyes as he looked at Ed.
"Can't wait," I said as my guilty gaze hit the floor.
Ed gave my shoulders another squeeze. "Pick you up at seven, beautiful." He added, "later Hunter", and I could tell by my partner's narrowed eyes that there was something going on between the two men, like they might square off and put up their dukes.
Those same narrowed eyes zeroed in on me as Ed retreated.
"Something you forgot to tell me, McCall?" Hunter crossed his arms over his chest. He did NOT look happy.
"Well, now that you mention it..." I smiled pretty, but he didn't smile back. "I was going to tell you."
"Yeah, right." He snatched his jacket from the back of his chair.
"Oh, c'mon, don't be like that, Hunter! I really WAS going to tell you. I just figured this time, I'd get a couple of dates under my belt before you hit me with the list of why he's not good enough for me."
My partner looked me straight in the eye with unsettling earnestness. "Well, he's not, you know."
"You see? That's why I didn't tell you! You don't like anybody I date, whether you like them or not." I was getting angry and so what if I didn't make any sense. I got up from my chair and poked Hunter in the chest. "What's your problem, anyway?"
"I don't have a problem."
"Oh, I think you do and I think his name is Ed Fazzoli. You got a grudge against him I don't know about? You coulda told me."
"When? After you sent out the wedding announcements?" He sagged into a sitting position on the edge of his desk. Look, I don't have anything against the guy personally."
"Then why the hell are you looking at me like that?" I asked. Like "that" meant like I was from outer space.
He shook his head. "He's a fucking cop, McCall!"
I was growing nearly as confused as I was pissed. "So?" I felt my eyebrows pinch together. "So are you!"
He threw up his hands. "Exactly!"
I watched my partner turn his back to me and stomp out the squadroom, and all I could do was shake my head. "Where did that come from?" I muttered. I was about to try to answer myself when I noticed the stares of two co- workers. I shrugged my shoulders and smiled, then grabbed my purse and jogged after Hunter. He was almost to his car when I caught up.
"Hunter!" What's going on?" I was genuinely perplexed. "I know I should have told you, but what's the big deal?"
He jammed his key into the lock. "Nothing. Not a goddam thing."
"Rick, please." I lassoed his wrist with my fingers and made him look at me. "You can't be this mad because I didn't tell you I was going on a date. Don't you think I deserve an explanation?"
He took me by the shoulders and gave me a look that dropped my stomach to the pavement. Before I knew it, my partner's lips were scorching mine right there in the precinct parking lot. I can only imagine that my mouth must have fallen open in shock before he kissed me, because his tongue was in my mouth; and my heart was in my throat. I lost control of my hand and it sneaked around his waist. Before I could summon it home, he pushed me to arms' length. He almost looked like he was going to cry.
"There's your explanation," he said, and without another word, he got in his car and peeled out of the parking lot.
I watched the blur that was Hunter's Dodge Monaco disappear around the corner, my legs wobbling like a newborn foal's. My knees buckled and I had to lock them straight to avoid becoming a puddle on the asphalt. When I realized that my mouth was still hanging open, I slammed my lips shut. I didn't want to risk someone else coming by and jamming his tongue down my throat.
A spike of panic stabbed my heart when it fully hit me what just happened and where I was. I casually glanced left and then right, and while a dozen officers ambled toward their cars, not a one looked in my direction – except for Captain Devane. Shit! My boss glared at me, hands on hips, head cocked to two o'clock. Hunter and I had been working for Charlie Devane for two and half years, and I knew every minute of his clock face. Twelve thirty was bemusement, one o'clock was mildly annoyed. One thirty, you were in some pretty deep trouble. Two o'clock meant, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, McCALL?! But this was all Hunter's fault and he'd left me there all alone to swing from Devane's gallows. And so I did the only thing I could do – I ducked into my cherry red Daytona and burned rubber out of the parking lot.
By the time I got home, I had steam shooting from my ears. Not once in the four and a half years that we'd been partners had Hunter told me that he might have feelings for me. Not once! And he picks the parking lot of the precinct to share that little bit of news? I fired a fastball with my purse into the couch. It bounced off and spilled the contents of my life onto the floor – gun, badge, lipstick. The gun and badge would be up for grabs on Monday when Devane got through with me, but at least I had my trusty lipstick for keeps. I bent to pick up my nine millimeter and kicked my lipstick under the couch.
Aaaarrrrgh!!! I threw my hands up and abandoned my lipstick. I had fish to feed and then a phone call to make. A deep breath did nothing to change my attitude, but the sight of a half dozen nearly microscopic clones of my two black mollys swimming for their life in my fish tank did. I stared in astonishment. Rocky and Bullwinkle had procreated which was some trick considering the fact that the kid at the pet store assured me that they were both male. I grabbed a mug from the kitchen, scooped some water from the tank and rescued the babies before Mom and Dad could have them for supper. I wondered how many of their brothers and sisters had already been on the dinner menu, but I made myself switch gears and concentrate on the ones I had left. I had babies and even though they weren't planned, I was happy – until Hunter popped in my head again. I pinched some food into the tank, rechristened my fish Boris and Natasha and punched Hunter's speed dial number as if the phone were his ear. That would be speed dial number one, and that pissed me off. I slammed the phone down. I needed time to rehearse – and to assign him a speed dial number commensurate with how angry I was. I decided 666 would be most appropriate.
Three hours later, I was trying to hold on to the anger, but failing miserably. All I had to do was close my eyes and I could feel the power of Hunter's kiss on my lips, and see the look on his face when he pulled away. Pinpricks attacked the bridge of my nose and I felt dangerously close to tears, and forgiving him. But I wasn't ready for that. He'd put our reputations on the line, our partnership... our friendship. The pinpricks hit harder, and they didn't tickle anymore. I was suddenly feeling very alone, and scared to death.
**********
By one AM., I had rolled from one side of my queen sized bed to the other, and was halfway back again when I gave up the idea of sleep and clicked the light on. A spider had taken up residence in a corner of my ceiling, his long, lean legs weaving the fibers of his web with perfect precision. I named him Little Ricky and watched him until he finished. Then I snuck up and squashed him with a sneaker.
I headed into my walk-in closet and pulled a book down from the shelf. It was my journal that I hadn't touched in three years, but I knew exactly where to find it. In a span of six weeks, I'd filled nearly two thirds of the book with words of despair and shame that flowed from my pencil like water from a fountain, but now all I could do was stare at the blank page in front of me. Sometimes you just have to get started, so I wrote HUNTER KISSED ME in capital letters. I stared at that for a while and added an exclamation point. A minute later, I underlined it, and a minute after that, I added a line on top and one on each side. I boxed him in, just as he had done to me. I started to put some words down on the page – confused, angry, worried, happy, scared, TERRIFIED and then I slammed the book closed. It wasn't helping at all.
The only way I was going to get any sleep was to talk to Hunter and get this out in the open. As I dialed, I pictured him snoring away in dreamland, but I didn't feel the least bit guilty calling him at such a late hour. No sleep for Dee Dee, no sleep for Hunter was my new motto. It was only fair.
"I don't wanna talk about it, McCall," he said by way of hello, his voice not at all husky from sleep as I had imagined.
It annoyed me beyond measure that he knew it was me and why I was calling. "That's so wrong!" I protested. "You can't kiss me in the damn precinct parking lot and say that!"
"I just did."
I let out a growl of frustration. "I'm coming over Hunter, and you are GOING to talk to me!" I hung up the phone before he could utter another word -- or hang up on ME.
*******
I knocked for a two solid minutes before Hunter answered the door with a scowl. He was wearing the same clothes he'd worn to work, but his shoes were off and his plaid shirt was unbuttoned -- an open curtain to his tanned, sculpted chest and washboard abs. I wondered if the view was created for my benefit, but he stood at the door like a sentry and didn't say a word, so I assumed it was just for comfort. The fact that he obviously hadn't been to bed yet, already felt like I'd won a moral victory.
"Gee, thanks for the hospitality," I said and pushed passed him into the living room.
"You wanted to talk, so talk," he said without a trace of compassion.
I felt tears spring to my eyes and my chin give a slight quiver. I hoped Hunter hadn't seen it, but he must have, because his eyes softened and he gestured for me to sit on the couch. He took a seat on the opposite end a mile away, and propped a socked foot up on the coffee table. He turned to look at me.
I narrowed my eyes. "Charlie saw what happened, Hunter."
"Oh." His gaze fell from mine and it looked like it settled on his big toe. "What did he do?"
"He gave me the 'two o'clock', and I split before he could say anything. We're gonna have some explaining to do, you know."
"I guess."
"You guess?!" I was instantly mad again. "If you didn't wanna be my partner anymore, all you had to do was tell me instead of pulling that little stunt in the parking lot!"
"Stunt? Is that what you think it was?" He looked hurt.
I didn't answer. I wasn't ready to peel off the layers. But Hunter was.
"I don't wanna dance with you anymore, Dee Dee. I can't do it when you lie to me."
I felt like I'd been stabbed. "What? When did I ever lie to you, Rick?"
There was no hesitation in his answer, as if he'd been rehearsing it for hours. "Garbage duty, St. Clare Hotel." I must have looked confused, because he added with exasperation, "Babysitting Fabro..."
I dropped my head as my fog lifted and all of this began to make sense.
"He won't be a cop," Hunter imitated my own words with heavy sarcasm. "You could have just said, 'he won't be YOU'."
I was stunned that he'd remembered that conversation and my exact words. In a moment of self-protection, I'd told my partner that I wanted a family, but I could never risk losing another husband to a bullet. "You've been holding that against me for three years?"
"No, I understood it, and I respected it! I didn't know it was a lie."
"I didn't either," I said, and it was the truth. "Rick, please try to understand. Those four nights we spent together, I could have..." I didn't know how to say this, but I plowed ahead, "...there was something going on between us and..."
"I know. I was there." Hunter removed his foot from the coffee table and turned his body toward me.
I felt my stomach tighten. I know it was my idea to talk, but I wasn't sure I wanted to have this conversation anymore.
"I could have given you what you wanted, Dee Dee... because those were things I wanted, too." His eyes were wide with sincerity.
I was back to being confused. "A family?"
"With you? Yeah."
My partner was full of surprises today. "You never told me that."
"You never gave me the chance. 'He won't be a cop.' Remember?"
'Quit saying that', I thought. I closed my eyes and let them fill with tears as I remembered the night I said that and everything that led up to it. "I got scared, Rick," I finally admitted, both to him and to myself. "I couldn't risk losing you. I'd lost so much already."
"I know," he whispered, scooting closer to me. "But since when did you start living your life based on fear?"
"Saturday, October ninth, 1985." My own words shocked me at how easily they'd tumbled from my mouth after three solid years of denial.
Hunter's eyes filled with pain, the same look I'd seen that horrible afternoon when he'd found me on my bedroom floor. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and I leaned into his chest. "I thought you said you were over that."
"I thought I was." I'd pronounced myself cured after my rapist was dead and I closed the book on that chapter in my life at the same time I'd closed my journal. I hadn't realized until this very moment that not being in pain didn't mean that I wasn't still sick.
"I'm sorry," Hunter whispered as my tears dampened his shirt. "But you wouldn't have lost me, Dee Dee, no matter what happened."
"That's not realistic," I argued. "How many of your ex-lovers are you still friends with?"
"That's not a fair question. I love you as my friend, and I've never felt that with another woman. I love you too much to let my pride come between us for too long."
I was blubbering now. "I love you, too," I said between sobs. I felt Hunter's lips press softly against my temple, as nurturing as they'd been passionate when he'd kissed me in the parking lot. I didn't know exactly what our future held, but for the first time in three years, I wasn't afraid. The most important person in my life said he was going to stick around no matter what, and I believed him. I believed in us.
THE END
But there was a dark cloud on my horizon that stood six feet six inches tall and loomed over my left shoulder as I uncapped a tube of deep red, "I'm hot and I know it" lipstick. It was to keep my lips from chapping, I told myself, but the mirror and I both knew the truth. I was on a roll and since that didn't happen very often, why tempt fate?
"Hot date?" my partner, Sergeant Rick Hunter, the aforementioned dark cloud asked, staring at my reflection in the compact I held in my hand.
I watched my face redden to a shade that nearly matched my carefully painted lips. "No," I said. I was, in fact, going straight home tonight. Withholding information isn't the same as lying.
"Still going through that dry spell, huh, McCall?"
I wasn't looking at Hunter, but I could feel his one sided smile, digging a dimple into his left cheek. I also felt a bald face lie coming on. I don't know why I hadn't told him about Fazzoli. I just knew I didn't want to. "Can you spell Sahara?" I said, snapping my compact closed, pleased at my non-response answer. I should be in politics.
He spun my chair around and I was out in the open. "That's hard to believe with lips like those," he said with a lecherous grin that I knew all too well. "Wanna try 'em out tonight, you and me?"
I giggled and rolled my eyes. This was the game we played. Elbow in the ribs, wink, wink, but we both knew that it was just for show.
"Dee Dee."
I heard my name and turned toward the voice. Ed, all five feet ten of him, was smiling as he strode toward me. He was handsome in that rugged kind of way that doesn't show up in pictures but attracts a lot of female attention, including mine. He had a bit of a reputation as a player, but honestly, I didn't mind. Like I said, I wasn't thinking in terms of long term commitment. I had indeed been going through a dry spell and I figured since no one wants to hire you when you're unemployed, why not work it?
Ah, hell. That's the biggest lie I've told so far. The truth is, I was lonely, and no one else was asking, so I lowered my standards and had two of the better dates I've gone on in the last two years. So much for standards.
Ed Fazzoli came up behind me and squeezed my shoulders. "I'm looking forward to tomorrow night," he said, those being the exact words I didn't want him to say. At least not in front of Hunter. Why hadn't I told him? He was my partner, my best friend, a brother, a father, and the Ayatollah Khomeini of my dating life all rolled into one strikingly handsome hard body. I saw a flash of anger shoot from his blue eyes as he looked at Ed.
"Can't wait," I said as my guilty gaze hit the floor.
Ed gave my shoulders another squeeze. "Pick you up at seven, beautiful." He added, "later Hunter", and I could tell by my partner's narrowed eyes that there was something going on between the two men, like they might square off and put up their dukes.
Those same narrowed eyes zeroed in on me as Ed retreated.
"Something you forgot to tell me, McCall?" Hunter crossed his arms over his chest. He did NOT look happy.
"Well, now that you mention it..." I smiled pretty, but he didn't smile back. "I was going to tell you."
"Yeah, right." He snatched his jacket from the back of his chair.
"Oh, c'mon, don't be like that, Hunter! I really WAS going to tell you. I just figured this time, I'd get a couple of dates under my belt before you hit me with the list of why he's not good enough for me."
My partner looked me straight in the eye with unsettling earnestness. "Well, he's not, you know."
"You see? That's why I didn't tell you! You don't like anybody I date, whether you like them or not." I was getting angry and so what if I didn't make any sense. I got up from my chair and poked Hunter in the chest. "What's your problem, anyway?"
"I don't have a problem."
"Oh, I think you do and I think his name is Ed Fazzoli. You got a grudge against him I don't know about? You coulda told me."
"When? After you sent out the wedding announcements?" He sagged into a sitting position on the edge of his desk. Look, I don't have anything against the guy personally."
"Then why the hell are you looking at me like that?" I asked. Like "that" meant like I was from outer space.
He shook his head. "He's a fucking cop, McCall!"
I was growing nearly as confused as I was pissed. "So?" I felt my eyebrows pinch together. "So are you!"
He threw up his hands. "Exactly!"
I watched my partner turn his back to me and stomp out the squadroom, and all I could do was shake my head. "Where did that come from?" I muttered. I was about to try to answer myself when I noticed the stares of two co- workers. I shrugged my shoulders and smiled, then grabbed my purse and jogged after Hunter. He was almost to his car when I caught up.
"Hunter!" What's going on?" I was genuinely perplexed. "I know I should have told you, but what's the big deal?"
He jammed his key into the lock. "Nothing. Not a goddam thing."
"Rick, please." I lassoed his wrist with my fingers and made him look at me. "You can't be this mad because I didn't tell you I was going on a date. Don't you think I deserve an explanation?"
He took me by the shoulders and gave me a look that dropped my stomach to the pavement. Before I knew it, my partner's lips were scorching mine right there in the precinct parking lot. I can only imagine that my mouth must have fallen open in shock before he kissed me, because his tongue was in my mouth; and my heart was in my throat. I lost control of my hand and it sneaked around his waist. Before I could summon it home, he pushed me to arms' length. He almost looked like he was going to cry.
"There's your explanation," he said, and without another word, he got in his car and peeled out of the parking lot.
I watched the blur that was Hunter's Dodge Monaco disappear around the corner, my legs wobbling like a newborn foal's. My knees buckled and I had to lock them straight to avoid becoming a puddle on the asphalt. When I realized that my mouth was still hanging open, I slammed my lips shut. I didn't want to risk someone else coming by and jamming his tongue down my throat.
A spike of panic stabbed my heart when it fully hit me what just happened and where I was. I casually glanced left and then right, and while a dozen officers ambled toward their cars, not a one looked in my direction – except for Captain Devane. Shit! My boss glared at me, hands on hips, head cocked to two o'clock. Hunter and I had been working for Charlie Devane for two and half years, and I knew every minute of his clock face. Twelve thirty was bemusement, one o'clock was mildly annoyed. One thirty, you were in some pretty deep trouble. Two o'clock meant, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, McCALL?! But this was all Hunter's fault and he'd left me there all alone to swing from Devane's gallows. And so I did the only thing I could do – I ducked into my cherry red Daytona and burned rubber out of the parking lot.
By the time I got home, I had steam shooting from my ears. Not once in the four and a half years that we'd been partners had Hunter told me that he might have feelings for me. Not once! And he picks the parking lot of the precinct to share that little bit of news? I fired a fastball with my purse into the couch. It bounced off and spilled the contents of my life onto the floor – gun, badge, lipstick. The gun and badge would be up for grabs on Monday when Devane got through with me, but at least I had my trusty lipstick for keeps. I bent to pick up my nine millimeter and kicked my lipstick under the couch.
Aaaarrrrgh!!! I threw my hands up and abandoned my lipstick. I had fish to feed and then a phone call to make. A deep breath did nothing to change my attitude, but the sight of a half dozen nearly microscopic clones of my two black mollys swimming for their life in my fish tank did. I stared in astonishment. Rocky and Bullwinkle had procreated which was some trick considering the fact that the kid at the pet store assured me that they were both male. I grabbed a mug from the kitchen, scooped some water from the tank and rescued the babies before Mom and Dad could have them for supper. I wondered how many of their brothers and sisters had already been on the dinner menu, but I made myself switch gears and concentrate on the ones I had left. I had babies and even though they weren't planned, I was happy – until Hunter popped in my head again. I pinched some food into the tank, rechristened my fish Boris and Natasha and punched Hunter's speed dial number as if the phone were his ear. That would be speed dial number one, and that pissed me off. I slammed the phone down. I needed time to rehearse – and to assign him a speed dial number commensurate with how angry I was. I decided 666 would be most appropriate.
Three hours later, I was trying to hold on to the anger, but failing miserably. All I had to do was close my eyes and I could feel the power of Hunter's kiss on my lips, and see the look on his face when he pulled away. Pinpricks attacked the bridge of my nose and I felt dangerously close to tears, and forgiving him. But I wasn't ready for that. He'd put our reputations on the line, our partnership... our friendship. The pinpricks hit harder, and they didn't tickle anymore. I was suddenly feeling very alone, and scared to death.
**********
By one AM., I had rolled from one side of my queen sized bed to the other, and was halfway back again when I gave up the idea of sleep and clicked the light on. A spider had taken up residence in a corner of my ceiling, his long, lean legs weaving the fibers of his web with perfect precision. I named him Little Ricky and watched him until he finished. Then I snuck up and squashed him with a sneaker.
I headed into my walk-in closet and pulled a book down from the shelf. It was my journal that I hadn't touched in three years, but I knew exactly where to find it. In a span of six weeks, I'd filled nearly two thirds of the book with words of despair and shame that flowed from my pencil like water from a fountain, but now all I could do was stare at the blank page in front of me. Sometimes you just have to get started, so I wrote HUNTER KISSED ME in capital letters. I stared at that for a while and added an exclamation point. A minute later, I underlined it, and a minute after that, I added a line on top and one on each side. I boxed him in, just as he had done to me. I started to put some words down on the page – confused, angry, worried, happy, scared, TERRIFIED and then I slammed the book closed. It wasn't helping at all.
The only way I was going to get any sleep was to talk to Hunter and get this out in the open. As I dialed, I pictured him snoring away in dreamland, but I didn't feel the least bit guilty calling him at such a late hour. No sleep for Dee Dee, no sleep for Hunter was my new motto. It was only fair.
"I don't wanna talk about it, McCall," he said by way of hello, his voice not at all husky from sleep as I had imagined.
It annoyed me beyond measure that he knew it was me and why I was calling. "That's so wrong!" I protested. "You can't kiss me in the damn precinct parking lot and say that!"
"I just did."
I let out a growl of frustration. "I'm coming over Hunter, and you are GOING to talk to me!" I hung up the phone before he could utter another word -- or hang up on ME.
*******
I knocked for a two solid minutes before Hunter answered the door with a scowl. He was wearing the same clothes he'd worn to work, but his shoes were off and his plaid shirt was unbuttoned -- an open curtain to his tanned, sculpted chest and washboard abs. I wondered if the view was created for my benefit, but he stood at the door like a sentry and didn't say a word, so I assumed it was just for comfort. The fact that he obviously hadn't been to bed yet, already felt like I'd won a moral victory.
"Gee, thanks for the hospitality," I said and pushed passed him into the living room.
"You wanted to talk, so talk," he said without a trace of compassion.
I felt tears spring to my eyes and my chin give a slight quiver. I hoped Hunter hadn't seen it, but he must have, because his eyes softened and he gestured for me to sit on the couch. He took a seat on the opposite end a mile away, and propped a socked foot up on the coffee table. He turned to look at me.
I narrowed my eyes. "Charlie saw what happened, Hunter."
"Oh." His gaze fell from mine and it looked like it settled on his big toe. "What did he do?"
"He gave me the 'two o'clock', and I split before he could say anything. We're gonna have some explaining to do, you know."
"I guess."
"You guess?!" I was instantly mad again. "If you didn't wanna be my partner anymore, all you had to do was tell me instead of pulling that little stunt in the parking lot!"
"Stunt? Is that what you think it was?" He looked hurt.
I didn't answer. I wasn't ready to peel off the layers. But Hunter was.
"I don't wanna dance with you anymore, Dee Dee. I can't do it when you lie to me."
I felt like I'd been stabbed. "What? When did I ever lie to you, Rick?"
There was no hesitation in his answer, as if he'd been rehearsing it for hours. "Garbage duty, St. Clare Hotel." I must have looked confused, because he added with exasperation, "Babysitting Fabro..."
I dropped my head as my fog lifted and all of this began to make sense.
"He won't be a cop," Hunter imitated my own words with heavy sarcasm. "You could have just said, 'he won't be YOU'."
I was stunned that he'd remembered that conversation and my exact words. In a moment of self-protection, I'd told my partner that I wanted a family, but I could never risk losing another husband to a bullet. "You've been holding that against me for three years?"
"No, I understood it, and I respected it! I didn't know it was a lie."
"I didn't either," I said, and it was the truth. "Rick, please try to understand. Those four nights we spent together, I could have..." I didn't know how to say this, but I plowed ahead, "...there was something going on between us and..."
"I know. I was there." Hunter removed his foot from the coffee table and turned his body toward me.
I felt my stomach tighten. I know it was my idea to talk, but I wasn't sure I wanted to have this conversation anymore.
"I could have given you what you wanted, Dee Dee... because those were things I wanted, too." His eyes were wide with sincerity.
I was back to being confused. "A family?"
"With you? Yeah."
My partner was full of surprises today. "You never told me that."
"You never gave me the chance. 'He won't be a cop.' Remember?"
'Quit saying that', I thought. I closed my eyes and let them fill with tears as I remembered the night I said that and everything that led up to it. "I got scared, Rick," I finally admitted, both to him and to myself. "I couldn't risk losing you. I'd lost so much already."
"I know," he whispered, scooting closer to me. "But since when did you start living your life based on fear?"
"Saturday, October ninth, 1985." My own words shocked me at how easily they'd tumbled from my mouth after three solid years of denial.
Hunter's eyes filled with pain, the same look I'd seen that horrible afternoon when he'd found me on my bedroom floor. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and I leaned into his chest. "I thought you said you were over that."
"I thought I was." I'd pronounced myself cured after my rapist was dead and I closed the book on that chapter in my life at the same time I'd closed my journal. I hadn't realized until this very moment that not being in pain didn't mean that I wasn't still sick.
"I'm sorry," Hunter whispered as my tears dampened his shirt. "But you wouldn't have lost me, Dee Dee, no matter what happened."
"That's not realistic," I argued. "How many of your ex-lovers are you still friends with?"
"That's not a fair question. I love you as my friend, and I've never felt that with another woman. I love you too much to let my pride come between us for too long."
I was blubbering now. "I love you, too," I said between sobs. I felt Hunter's lips press softly against my temple, as nurturing as they'd been passionate when he'd kissed me in the parking lot. I didn't know exactly what our future held, but for the first time in three years, I wasn't afraid. The most important person in my life said he was going to stick around no matter what, and I believed him. I believed in us.
THE END