Chapter Eight - Invitation

Once Randy had helped him with what Monk could only assume was a shady ticket broker, great cops, past and present, both of us, he thought sardonically; he realized he now had to do the hard part. Ask Sharona to leave the hospital for a few hours and spend the time away from Benjy with him.

He'd been carrying his own cell phone around for weeks now and was almost used to the uneven distribution of the weight in his pockets. He'd compensated for a few days by carrying other stuff in the opposite pocket… keys, a pocket bottle of hand sanitizer - but it didn't work, so he just dealt with the imbalance – ignoring it most of the time, but he still couldn't wait to return the responsibility of his cell phone back to Sharona's care. He pressed the first speed-dial button with precision. She answered on the third ring.

"Hel-hello, Sharona?"

"Adrian? Where are you?"

"Oh, I'm – I – I'm out."

"Out where?"

"Out – you know – outside."

"Outside? What are you doing?"

"I'm ah…I'm going to see Mrs. Ling. To pick – pick up the dry cleaning." Lying didn't come easily for him, but he didn't want to say he was out inspecting restaurants' kitchens and bathrooms.

"Oh. Jeeze, Adrian, I've really been leaving you alone too much… I'm sorry, why don't I come over for a while today, I'll help you do whatever needs to be done, the bills, groceries, the errands…"

"No! No!" He cut her off. "That's – that is not why I called. I don't want you to come to work…"

"You're right… I shouldn't leave Benjy…what was I thinking?" The child in question rolled his eyes at the ceiling.

"No! You do have to leave! You should leave!"

"What?" Sharona squeaked.

"Uh, not now. Later maybe."

"Adrian, you're not making any sense. What are you talking about?"

"Dinner."

"Dinner?"

"Dinner, yes. You know, dinner. The meal at the end of the day?"

"Yes, I know the meaning. I'm still confused."

Me too, Adrian thought, tongue in knots. "I'd like you to have dinner. With me tonight."

"That's sweet Adrian, I know you miss me cooking for you – but –"

"No! I don't. I mean, yes – yes I do, b-but I'm asking you… to go out to dinner with me… tonight."

Sharona wasn't easily astonished, but this astonished her. Adrian had voluntarily offered to take her to dinner? One she didn't have to cook or clean up after? Suspicion snuck in. "Why?"

"Why?" Adrian hadn't really anticipated that reply, it was one he hadn't worked out an answer to before he made the call. "Why?" he repeated. "Why?"

"Yes, Adrian, why?" Sharona tapped her foot impatiently at the other end of the connection, as Benjy watched bemused and baffled all at once. This should have been pretty easy. What was Mr. Monk doing?

"Oh, uh – because it will do you good – to get out – of the hospital."

Bewildered by the generosity and the unlikeliness of the whole conversation, Sharona covered the mouthpiece of the phone. She turned to Benjy and said, "Mr. Monk needs me. Will you be okay if I have dinner with him tonight, instead of here with you?"

"Mom…I'm over thirteen, I can eat on my own and watch TV on my own and call a nurse if I need help with anything else. Mr. Monk probably needs you much more than

I do right now," he smirked to himself. Outwardly, he smiled innocently and urged her, with his good hand making shooing motions, to go.

"Adrian?"

"Here. I'm here."

"Okay, Benjy says he'll be fine, and I should go with you."

In his head, Adrian thanked the boy and said aloud, "Good. Great. We'll have…fun. Fun, is good, right?"

"Fun? Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes. I'm … I am fine. Do you want me to come to your house and then…uh, you know…drive?"

It was her turn to exclaim, "No!" then she scowled with frustration and pressed her fingers to her eyes. That didn't come out right, he was being – considerate, and she was being a bitch. "Sorry, no, no, I'll come to you, that way if I need to get back to Benjy… never mind, what time?"

"Five-thirty?"

"Alright."

"See you then," he said hopefully, and Sharona would have even said cheerfully if that word had ever come into play around Adrian in the past.

"Okay, bye." She hung up and stared at her phone for a second. She looked over at Benjy who was doing his best impersonation of a deaf-mute person. His mother wasn't buying it.

"Benjy…"

"What?" he asked with teenage indignation.

"What are you up to?"

"What could I possibly be up to, chained to this bed?" He pointed to the casts and the traction pulley.

"With you, all things are possible," said the maternal voice of experience.

"I'm telling you, nothing. I'm going to watch TV, read my Social Studies book, try not to itch my stitches and under my casts, and then go to sleep. That's it…no big crime to solve, nothing evil."

"Okay, then what's wrong with Mr. Monk?"

Benjy choked on a laugh and said, "I have no idea, and why does something have to be 'wrong'?"

"Benjy, for Adrian Monk to voluntarily leave the house, eat food from somewhere other than his kitchen or ours, volunteer his time, not to mention money, for someone else… it just seems suspicious."

"Maybe he's just being nice?" Benjy asked hopefully.

"Could be. Or maybe he's going to fire me."

"Mom, please…"

"No Benjy, look at the situation, it's been almost five weeks since the accident, he's getting nowhere fast on the case on his own, he just admitted to floundering around doing his errands. He needs someone, and that someone can't be me right now. Maybe he found a replacement…"

"I really doubt that mom. He's been here almost as much as you, more than even Grandma and Aunt Gail have, at least from what you've said." The boy shrugged, "He's probably just worried about you, too."

"I guess miracles happen."

"I'm living proof."

She smiled and grabbed his good hand for a squeeze. "That's true," she allowed.

"Just go, wear something pretty, and have… fun. Okay?"

"Okay, okay." Five-thirty…it was eleven forty-five, that doesn't leave me much time to do something about my appearance and come back. "Benjy, I'll be back in a couple of hours." She said and gathered her things.

"That's okay you don't have to come back, Aunt Gail is bringing me paper maché – we're making a volcano for my science lesson today. Go do what you have to do… don't you …want to do your nails or something?" he asked with the appropriate male facial expression that conveyed complete mystification as to why women did that stuff. Sharona assumed men developed that expression in the womb.

"As a matter of fact, Mr. Know-it-all," she leaned over to kiss him goodbye, "I was thinking the exact same thing." She gave him a noisy kiss which he accepted good-naturedly and swiped at once she'd turned towards the door.

"I saw that."

"No you didn't!" he exclaimed.

"Alright, I sensed it… that's my job." She blew him a last kiss over her shoulder and strolled out the door.

Sharona walked out of the hospital and into the warm sunshine. She breathed in deeply and smelled the flowers in the park across the street and the clean fresh air. It was nice to not feel worried or apprehensive about Benjy as she left, although Adrian's sudden personality trans… well, not transplant, but transformation, was a little worrying. But as Benjy pointed out, why does something have to be wrong? She swung into her car with a grin and drove towards her favorite salon, Indulgence, smile firmly in place.

Three hours later, Sharona went by her house to water the plants, feed Benjy's fish, and change her clothes. As she turned the key in the lock, she admired the shiny rose pink color on her nails, and as she passed the hallway mirror, admired her new haircut. She'd gone a little overboard, but hell, it had been almost two months since her last manicure, or haircut, or anything that was just for her, so she thought she'd treat herself. The owner of Indulgence, Roseanne, talked her into a facial, pedicure and haircut as well. It hadn't been that hard a sell, but Sharona still fretted privately about the expense. Then, when she was ready to leave, Roseanne wouldn't take any money from her; she said it was on the house – Sharona deserved it after all she'd been through.

Bless her, Sharona thought, because just next door to Indulgence, there was a pretty dress shop that she had never shopped in. Not so much because of the prices, although that was one reason, the styles were so much more reserved than the ones she usually wore, more like Trudy's style than mine, she acknowledged to herself. After she parked, she'd had to walk past the store, Whimsy, on her way to Indulgence. There in the window was the prettiest silk dress in pale lavender with little roses embroidered over the bodice and on the hem. Throughout the pampering she received at the salon, all she thought of was that appealing dress. Benjy's words kept reverberating in her head, wear something pretty… have fun. After winning the beauty lottery for the day, Sharona couldn't resist going into Whimsy to at least try on the dress.

The saleswoman was polite and helpful. She brought Sharona a gorgeous, strapless lace slip to try on with the dress; it too was pale lavender, but it was accented with deeper purple ribbons threaded through it. It felt sexy and looked innocent all at once. When Sharona slipped the dress over it, she sighed. She'd always loved pretty dresses, but never wore them, it was easier to be who she was, a nurse, a detective's assistant, and a single mom, in her normal clothes. Plus, it was much more difficult to be a sophisticated, quiet, perfect woman than her normal, independent, boisterous, fun-loving self… and as far as innocence - she'd lost that too many years ago to count.

She smoothed the dress over the lace slip and it skimmed her skin on a whisper. The thin straps that held the dress in place were the same deep purple as the ribbons on the slip, and they clasped with tiny rhinestone buckles at the shoulder, the delicate embroidery echoed the deeper color as well. The material was sleek and smooth. She sighed again and closed her eyes as she reached under her arm for the price tag. It must have been her lucky day; her pretty dress was on sale. Humming, she returned to the car with the dress, and slip, in a charming Whimsy dress bag carefully packed by the saleswoman.

When she got home it was just about three o'clock. She had two-and-a-half hours before she had to be at Adrian's. She'd called Benjy from the car, he was playing video games against another kid on his hospital floor – both of them disadvantaged by only having one useful hand…they were creating all sorts of noise and havoc. She spoke to the duty nurse, he was fine. Gail would be there shortly to do his science project. Sharona was at loose ends. For the first time in a very long time, she had nothing she had to do, nothing was expected of her… so she straightened her already neat house, changed linens, vacuumed…Adrian is rubbing off on me, she thought and then decided to indulge herself a little more by taking a bath. She ran the water and poured in a generous amount of her favorite bath gel and watched as the fragrant bubbles filled the tub. She fiddled with the belt of her robe and thought about what could possibly be behind Adrian's impromptu and extraordinary invitation…she hoped she wasn't losing her job. But, as she reminded herself sternly if she was, she'd find another one. She had always managed. On the other hand, she sighed, she would never find another Adrian Monk, no matter how hard she looked.

While he waited for Sharona, Adrian roamed through his apartment thinking about the past and the future. Then, in the company of only a heart heavy with conflicting emotions, Adrian did something he never thought he'd bring himself to do. He took the pictures of Trudy that were on tables, his desk, his dresser, and on bookshelves and packed them carefully in a box which he placed at the bottom of the closet that still held all of Trudy's clothes. He took the framed photos down off the wall and packed away the mementos as well. If his life was going to change, he needed to do something to make that happen, he knew this definitively in his head, but his heart ached just the same. He walked to the doorway and then turned to look around his bedroom, the room he'd shared with Trudy, and realized that it looked so bare; the only decorations had been the antique arts and crafts style frames that held the photos of Trudy or photos of the two of them. He shrugged sadly, reached for the light switch, and just before his left hand got to the rocker switch, the glint of his wedding band reflected in the mirror and caught his eye. He hadn't taken the ring off since their wedding day, except to clean it. He wasn't sure he could go that far tonight – even for Sharona. Even to show her that he was ready to move on with his life. She'd understand that. She'd accept that. Wouldn't she? He flicked the switch and left his darkened, bare bedroom behind… lost in thought.

The bell rang, to Adrian's surprise, exactly at 5:30. Sharona had never been known for her promptness, something that drove Adrian crazy about her, but he was so used to it by now, that it was something he was able to take, if not in stride, then for granted. And, he admitted to himself, it really was one of few things that drove me crazy about her. He opened the door and he felt his heart stop. All he could do was stare. And then gape. And then stare some more. Without a word. He looked her up and down from head to toe and took in everything at once, her hair, the lavender dress that made her skin glow like honey, the smile on her face. Fright gripped him. Without a sound, he closed his eyes and closed the door in Sharona's lovely face. Shocked, she simply stared at the burnished gold "2G" on the outside of the door. He stood with his back up against the inside of the door, as if hiding from the woman on the other side and looked heavenward. Guilt about the pictures he'd removed, about the ring he thought about removing, and about his emerging feelings for Sharona engulfed him. Quietly he whispered, "Trudy, forgive me. Forgive me. Forgive me." He swallowed roughly, choking on the words. "She's so beautiful. I love her. I really love her. Be happy for me…" he added. God, he reflected silently, I really think I've found someone to rescue me from the dark, to restore me to something human from the nothing I've become since you died, Trudy. "Forgive me," he murmured again.

Sharona stood in the building's hallway, with her back to his door, there was no way she was ringing that bell again. Whatever was happening in there, or in his head, let him deal. I'm off duty. When she heard the click of the lock latch closed again she assumed he'd be out when he found whatever he needed to get himself out and able to function. Guilt nagged at the back of her mind, but she wanted one night of near-normalcy. One night where nothing was up to her – no decisions, no plans. Unless of course she was being fired, then that presented a whole host of other plans and decisions she'd have to make without a choice. She studied the stained glass that allowed the fading daylight through in multicolored panes. By the time she heard the lock click back open, she'd worked herself up into a state of righteous indignation.
He stood in the doorway, taken aback again by her appearance. He leaned against the door jamb and sighed quietly. She looked so beautiful in the soft lilac dress and silvery heels. The gauzy wrap over the dress that was tucked around her arms made her look like a butterfly in the rainbows of late afternoon light that came in through the windows of the hallway. Her hair was caught up at the sides and pinned to her crown by a shiny, rhinestone clip, while the rest cascaded over her shoulders and back. The rhinestone clasps on her dress sparkled and winked from her shoulders. She turned to look at him then, fury on a low simmer in her eyes. He could see it from across the hall and without any other hint.

"Let's get this over with," she said tersely as she passed him, nearly knocking him off of his feet.

"What?" he asked as he steadied himself and trailed her into the depths of his apartment.

"You know, before you have to waste any more time or money on me… let's get it over with." She sat on the edge of the sofa cushion and waited.

He looked at her without comprehension. "Sharona, what are you talking about?"

"You're firing me, right?" she asked as she defensively crossed her arms over her chest.

"Firing?"

"Well, what other reason could you possibly have for wanting me to go out with you tonight? Thought you'd break it to me in a public place, so I didn't make a scene. I would have thought you'd have known better by now, I'm apt to make a scene most anywhere."

"Well, you're – you're certainly making one right now," he said with wry humor and a frown. "Sharona, I only asked you to go to dinner with me because I wanted to share a meal with you that isn't in the medical center cafeteria or at Benjy's bedside. Honestly. I'm not firing you. No ulterior motive," he choked on the last few words as they were a blatant lie.

She looked at him and whispered, "Really?"

"Y-yes, really." Her expression softened, regret swam across her features. With his reply, she got up and left the room. Mystified, he just watched her go. When he heard the front door lock click home, he knew she'd left. Way to go Adrian. You sure are smooth. To his surprise, the doorbell rang again.

He answered this time without panicking and slamming the door in her face. Although he did feel his heart slam mercilessly against his ribs when he looked at her.
"Hi," she said. "Can we pretend the last two minutes never happened?"

"L-like a do-over?"

She smiled for him as he stepped aside to let her in the door. "Exactly."

"I can do that." He followed her into his pristine living room and watched her settle herself, this time with more aplomb, on the sofa.

He was looking at her strangely and Sharona opened with her familiar, "You okay?"

"Yes… yes. Fine," he played his normal response. Their exchange was like a game of gin between long-time partners… well-played back and forth. Normal. What he really wanted to say was, Sharona, you look lovely. He couldn't work up the nerve. What will she think of me noticing how she looks? Then, what's the difference, Adrian? You plan on telling her how you feel tonight anyway…right? His internal dialogue raged on as she watched him, watched the play of emotions cross his face, and watched his body language. He was more uptight than usual. They spoke simultaneously.

"Adrian, what's wrong?"

"Sharona, you look lovely."

"What?" she asked

"What?" he replied.

She started again, "I just asked what was wrong, you seem anxious – even for you. What did you say?"

"N-Nothing."

"Something."

"I said…" he paused. "I said, you look lovely tonight."

"Oh." Oh was a useful syllable a woman could slip into conversation practically anywhere and mean practically anything by it. She remembered her manners and said, "Thank you, Adrian. You look nice too." Why did I say that? She cringed inwardly. What is he going to think of me commenting on his appearance… that's something I can't recall ever doing… and he'll realize. He'll know. He remembers everything. Sharona had quite an internal conversation of her own going on at this point. Wait. He noticed me. Now he's watching me. Say something, Sharona…

"So, where are we going tonight?" Smooth change of topic, well done, Sharona, she allowed herself a point or two with an imperceptible nod.

"Ah…" her voice brought him out of his trance over her appearance. "We're going to a French restaurant on …" he fumbled in his pocket for the slip of paper it was written on, "Mason Street."

"Why all the way over there?"

"I – I just thought you'd like this restaurant." He didn't mention that they had the cleanest restrooms, kitchen, and an accommodating maitre d', or that it was right near the theater. He felt the slight weight of the envelope with the tickets in it in his inner breast pocket.

"That was nice. The whole idea is really nice Adrian. Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being … so…nice…" she trailed off not exactly saying what she had intended. Nice was rather a weak adjective to describe his monumental effort. She gathered her thoughts and finally said, "What I meant was thank you for being so thoughtful and sweet." She smiled luminously at him and said, "When do we have to be there?"

"Now."

"Huh?"

"Well, in fifteen minutes. We… we should go."

"Alright." She stood and followed him down the hall and out the door.

When they reached her car, something dawned on her. She stopped short of getting into the car, looked at him across the roof, and said, "Did you do something to your apartment while I've been with Benjy at the hospital?" Her curiosity was piqued but her expression was baffled and suspicious.

"No, no, except, you know, I cleaned it." He hoped she didn't see through him.

She smiled. "Yeah, that's a given. No, I mean did you have it painted? It looked different." He shook his head and shrugged. He tilted his head, uncomfortable with how close she was to get him to lie. On the other hand, he was amazed that she'd noticed the difference, her observational skills are improving, he thought with no small amount of pride, but she couldn't tell what the difference was. Good. I don't want her one step ahead of me right now. In his left trouser pocket, he nervously pushed the gold band on his ring finger around with his thumb and silently slipped into his seat in the Volvo.