Chapter 25
Dixie's simple statement caught the attention of both men sitting in her car. Kelly Brackett leaned forward in anticipation and John Gage turned sideways.
"Sorry, Johnny, but I'll have to tell some of the story you already know so Kel will understand it," she apologized, which elicited an "I don't care" hand gesture from her front seat passenger. She had started to tell the tale to Brackett that night in her apartment, but they had gotten distracted with "other things" and the words had remained unspoken until now.
"Well, it goes something like this, Kel, the short version. I've been singing since an early age and was always told I was quite good; in fact, I paid for my schooling by singing in nightclubs. I WAS over 21 of course!" She added quickly, eyes flashing, as Johnny snickered. He closed his mouth with an exaggerated, noisy snap and leaned complacently against the side window. "Once I started nursing though, I no longer had time, and then there was Korea….but anyways, an old friend of mine approached me several months ago and asked if I had any interest in helping him out at his new nightclub."
She paused, ducking her head down to hide her blush. Gage remained quiet this time; he had met her friend and knew their history together, both the good and the bad. "So I said yes and that's what I was doing the other night – singing for the club on opening night."
"Ah," Brackett said, apparently mulling it over before committing to further words. He stretched an arm between the seats and patted her on the shoulder. "And how did this debut of yours go? Should I be worried that we will lose the number one nurse of the Emergency department?"
Dixie shook her head, her unbound hair brushing silkily over his hand. "It went well, so well in fact that another person approached me and offered a job. But no, Kel, I do love my work here and I won't be leaving any time soon. Unless of course they offer me so much money I can't refuse!"
Kelly groaned and leaned back while the nurse wondered how many of her words were really true. That nagging feeling of discontent that had been bothering her lately was really dragging her down and the casually made offer to her HAD been for a princely sum. A little white lie to Kel right now wouldn't hurt, but in the long run it was something she was going to have to address. Was she ready to leave a career that she no longer fully believed in?
"I told you that you would knock 'em dead," Johnny bragged, voice full of pride. Dixie immediately looked into the rearview mirror and caught the jealous grimace crossing the doctor's face. She might not be predictable right now but Kel was responding in his usual manner.
"Johnny is the only one I told about this, Kel, and he had the dubious honor of listening to my caterwauling as I practiced. He also encouraged me in my endeavors, and Lord knows I needed all the positive praise I could get." She soothed gently.
"I would have supported you," he responded sulkily.
"Yes you would have, but our schedules don't always allow for us to get together." She left it at that, not wanting to go any further with excuses. Yes, Kelly may have backed her up 100% but he may have also decided to go in the opposite direction. He would have been very subtle about it but he did know how to play her like a violin.
"So when's the next time you sing, and how often are you going to "help out" your friend?" Brackett asked in a deceptively bland voice. "If you don't mind, I'd like to hear you."
He didn't add that he also wanted to "see" her in a nightclub setting, although maybe not draped across a grand piano like some of the sultry singers of the 1950s - he wasn't sure if his heart or the green eyed monster buried within him could handle the stress. And now to find out that this beautiful, intelligent lady could sing, and sing well according to Gage, was something he could never have imagined in a million years.
"Of course I don't mind, especially now that I have already got my feet wet, so to speak. I'll be there tomorrow night, and after that perhaps twice a month. And Johnny, you're invited as well….." she replied in her husky voice and Brackett swallowed hard, realizing that if her singing voice was anything like her normal voice, he was in big trouble, both personally and professionally.
"Well, sorry, I won't be able to make it tomorrow night, Dix, I already have plans," Gage admitted with a sly grin.
"Just bring her over afterwards, John, I won't go on until eleven or so," Dixie replied knowingly, starting up the Mustang and heading towards the exit road.
The paramedic nodded. "Yeah, might be able to do that. Will you make it Doc?"
"Yes, I'll make sure I get off when I'm scheduled to….and maybe even take Dixie out to dinner beforehand, if that's okay with you?"
"I have the whole evening free, Kel, so that would be perfect, thank you. Johnny, will you be able to drive stick with that arm, or should I just drop you off at your apartment?"
"The station is fine, it's not too bad now," he answered truthfully, unconsciously rubbing the sore and bruised area. It might be a different story tomorrow morning, but there was no way he was going to play the victim once again, especially with Brackett watching him like a hawk from the back seat. Knowing his luck, the man scrutinizing him right now would look at him too long, decide he looked too pale or something idiotic like that, and demand that he return to the hospital. And if he refused, would call Captain Hammer and have him pulled from duty the next shift. It was a no win situation and the longer he was in the car with Brackett, the more likely it was to happen, especially if Dixie didn't keep her friend distracted.
"To the station it is then," she agreed cheerfully and made the next turn on two wheels. Both men grabbed something for balance – John the dashboard and Kelly the seat. Smiling, Dixie resumed a steady pace, darting nimbly through traffic and arriving at the fire house much faster than the squad had ever done.
"Thanks for the ride," he said gratefully as he climbed out. He turned around and stuck his head in the car. "Maybe see ya both tomorrow night, okay?"
"Yes," they responded simultaneously. Johnny, grinning at their perfect synchronization, closed the door and strolled nonchalantly towards the side door. Hearing the other car door open he hoped that it was just the doctor moving into the seat he had just vacated.
"Johnny?" The soft voice startled him, as did the hand on his arm.
"Dixie?" He responded back, pausing with his hand on the knob. "Did I forget something?"
"No, no, I just wanted to let you know that I told Kel about Ryan, or at least part of the story."
Dropping his hand he turned and looked at her. "So you didn't say anything about my involvement…."
"No, and I'm not going to, because that's your story to tell, if and when you decide to explain it." She smiled up at him, tilting her head. "But really, John, does it need to be a secret?"
He shook his head carefully, not wanting to aggravate his jaw. "No, it doesn't; I guess I just don't like the thought of everybody talking about it."
"All right, I respect that, but Roy has been asking how we know each other, and of course Kelly Brackett is wondering the same thing…"
He turned the key in the lock before answering her. "I'll explain it to Roy sometime soon, if he asks me that is. Go ahead and tell Dr. Brackett if you want, Dixie, I really don't mind."
She nodded her agreement. "Johnny, you be careful driving home and holler if you need anything, okay?"
"Sure thing and you know you can call me too, right?" He replied, tugging playfully at a strand of hair and quirking an eyebrow at her.
"Absolutely!" She waggled her fingers in farewell and left.
Smiling, Johnny went inside the station, pushing thoughts of Dixie's son to the back of his mind. Moving fast, he dropped his papers on Hammer's desk, gathered up his gear from his locker, and headed back out. He was going to do everything he needed to do before the pain kicked in full force and forced him home. And at the top of the list was whatever he had volunteered to bring to DeSoto's barbecue. He paused by his Volkswagen bus, trying to remember what he had told Roy he would bring.
"Not the beer, buns, meat …veggies maybe?" He mused out loud, glancing towards the station and wondering if he should wait for the squad to get back and just ask his partner. He snapped his fingers in triumph as he remembered what it had been. "Chips, that's what it was! Maybe I'll get pretzels or some other crunchy stuff. I wonder if they'll have pickles? I could get some of those too….."
~eeeEEEeee~
Saturday morning rolled in clear and sunny, with a breeze that ruffled Roy's hair as he climbed from his Porsche. He lifted his face to the dry wind and considered for a moment the repercussions if these were the Santa Ana winds starting their devilish dance. He scowled as he realized the damage caused by the winds might well be minimal compared to the havoc his mother-in-law was currently wreaking in his home. She had only arrived last night but yet there were hurricane force winds already tearing the house apart, piece by piece.
Sighing, he went into the house. Jo was standing at the stove and turned at his entrance, her usually perfectly coifed hair disarranged and her eyes slitted in anger.
"Oh Roy!" She cried out in relief and welcome. "I am so very, very glad that you're home!"
He set the bags down on the counter before catching her in a hug. "Let me guess, the tempest has added hail to her repertoire…."
"Huh, oh, what a nice way of putting it!" In spite of her obvious distress, she laughed and smacked him playfully with the towel in her hand. She threw her arms around him and spoke into his neck, muffling the words. "I know I said that taking a deep breath and stepping back was my sure fire way of dealing with my own mother, but this time it doesn't seem to be working very well."
"She must be doing something far worse then what she usually does for you to lose your cool," he suggested in a low voice, helping her to quickly stash the groceries away. He snatched a kiss when they were done; she returned it passionately for a second before pushing him back a step and flipping the French toast in the pan.
"She's already on my last nerve, and she's been here less than twenty four hours," she whispered back. "I'll fill you in on the details later, would you round up the kids for breakfast?"
"I suppose that's includes "everybody" in this house, huh?" He asked cheekily, grinning as she purposely turned her back on him and plated the entrée. He gave an appreciative leer as she bent to take something out of the oven and then reluctantly turned his back on the lovely view. He really wanted to see his kids but then there was that huge deterrent sitting out there with them…..his grin faded, he plastered it back on for his children's sake and strolled to the doorway scoping out the scene.
As befitting a queen, Ruth was draped regally across the couch. Her striped dress caught his eyes first along with the clanking sound of a row of Bakelite bracelets jangling together on her wrist. Lisa was snuggled comfortably on her ample lap playing with the noisy jewelry while Christopher was propped up against her shoulder studying a book. Roy had to admit that the woman was good with her grandchildren; it seemed that only non-blood relatives incurred her sarcasm, scorn, and undiluted anger.
"Daddy!" Chris shouted, scrambling to his feet and flying across the room to grab him by the legs. Roy affectionately tousled his mop of hair and picked him up. He nodded to Ruth, who had deigned to turn her head and stare at him, beady black eyes encircled by puffy eyelids coated in purple eye shadow. Purple eye shadow…what in the world? His eyebrows rose as he noticed details never before seen on his mother-in-law's face, like bright pink rouge, thick mascara on false eyelashes, and blood red lipstick. Her normal mask was usually a thick coating of pancake rouge and a slap of pale lipstick so what was going on here?
"Good morning," he said neutrally, fighting the impulse to break into hysterical laughter. Was this strange looking apparition the cause of his wife's uncharacteristic behavior?
"Good morning Ray," the old bat replied sweetly, and Roy almost dropped his son in shock. Not about the wrong name, of course, she did that all the time; it was the tone of her voice and the fake smile she was gracing him with.
Lisa saved him from saying anything else by holding out her arms. He let Chris slide down to the floor, gave him a gentle tap on the rear and pointed towards the kitchen. "Scoot into the kitchen, son, mom's waiting with our breakfast."
"'Kay Dad, is it good?"
"Always is, Chris, it always is!"
Taking his daughter from Ruth, he stared down at the woman's head. Fully expecting to see snakes hanging from her scalp, he was surprised at what was actually there. Normally her hair was a mousy brown, tortured into tight corkscrew shapes – today the hair fell in soft waves with purple tints that matched her eye makeup.
"Help me up dear," she crooned and he started guiltily. Extending his empty hand, he winced as she clutched him with both hands and heisted her stripe clothed body up and tottered unsteadily for a moment before releasing her fierce grip. He couldn't stop his curious gaze from traveling downwards to see why she was having trouble maintaining her balance and immediately wished he hadn't.
Joanne's mother was not garbed in her usual matronly dress, sensible black shoes, and pearls. Instead, the striped garment he had mistaken for a calf length dress was a hip length shirt, complete with plunging neckline and a chain of what looked like plastic daisies with metallic disks in between each fake flower. Having never seen the woman wear pants before, he was astonished to see black cigarette pants ending quite a bit before her ankles, an expanse of bare, blue veined skin, and then the unmistakable color of purple again. The normal black shoes had been replaced with plum footwear that had three thin straps stretched across the bridge of her feet and kitten heels.
He quickly stepped back in alarm, shielding Lisa as Ruth swayed forward, righted herself, and then sashayed towards the kitchen. Calling himself a coward, he closed his eyes firmly and waited until he heard the kitten heels tapping across the linoleum before opening them and following his mother-in-law. He had a bad, bad feeling as to the reason for both Anne's barely held in check anger and the youthfully dressed, weird figure that had just disappeared through the doorway, and if he was correct, it did not bode well for the members of his new crew…..
~eeeEEEeee~
Mike dumped his bag on the kitchen floor, slid the half gallon of milk into the avocado green fridge, and noted the two big glass containers of brewed tea and lemonade taking up most of the top shelf. His nose found a pan of brownies and a covered container full of cookies side by side on the counter; Connie had apparently been experimenting again with her baking skills. He hovered doubtfully over the sweets, wondering if he dared try them. Sometimes her endeavors turned out wonderful and sometimes they didn't; he decided to wait until after his nap. If she had whipped up the deserts to take to Roy's barbecue, along with the beverages in the fridge, he would definitely do a taste test before they left the house.
Having taken a shower at the station, he simply undressed in the bathroom and flipped his dirty garments into the hamper. It took only minutes to brush his teeth and tread softly to the drape darkened bedroom, where his wife slept soundly burrowed deep within the covers. He had to work his way under the sheet and thin blanket she was tucked into; it involved carefully rolling her a bit and pulling loose the coverings she was cocooned in.
Grinning, he settled down to sleep on his side, facing the wallpapered wall about three feet away from his face. But slumber eluded him even with his eyes closed tight. He wasn't all that tired, really, as they had had only one call last night. Just an hour or two of rest for both his body and his mind was all he needed and what he usually was able to accomplish with no difficulty, especially when Connie was next to him. The last couple of days however, had left him with a mind too busy to shut off.
They hadn't really discussed Connie's job offer in depth after she had told him the news the other day; in fact, if he was being honest with himself they hadn't talked about it at all. Just a few casual words tossed at each other, like "how do you think you'll like New York" or "could you handle the winters" – stupid questions he had flippantly fired at her while she had awkwardly done the same thing. But hers had at least been deeper, more meaningful -"Do you think we could maintain a long distance relationship" or "I wonder what fire departments are like there?" This meant of course that he was the one skirting the issue, not her.
Sighing, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, the sunlight escaping through the curtain cracks creating shifting patterns on the bland white surface. She would leave Monday for New York City to peruse the contracts, meet her new bosses, and put her final signature on the dotted line. He truly wanted her to sign and have her probable last chance at a national modeling career; he just didn't know if he was strong enough to break his ties here and accompany her. Or would she even want him along, especially at first?
He winged his arms behind his head, careful not to touch his sleeping spouse. The slightly elevated position did nothing to improve his muddled thoughts and he continued his perusal of the ceiling with a frown. He supposed they could try the long distance thing, visit each other when their schedules meshed. The thought of using her substantial salary to pay for airline tickets left a bitter taste in his mouth but he understood deep down that it was a small price to pay to keep their marriage strong. His masculine pride could handle it too, because he loved her like no other woman that had passed through his life.
Smiling now, he unlaced his hands from behind his head and slowly rolled to his side, spooning up against Connie. She mumbled something completely unintelligible and he grinned even wider as he closed his eyes and finally let sleep take him away, hoping that she would agree with the solution, or at least be willing to try it.
~eeeEEEeee~
Marco yawned widely and took a tentative sip of the coffee in his mug. It remained hot, and even stronger. It had been sitting on the stove since he had returned from shift hours earlier. He stared down into the black depths, smothered the next yawn that threatened to stretch his jaw, and took a large swallow. Blinking rapidly, he drained the cup and set it down on the counter with a triumphant thump.
A solid impatient knocking at the front door interrupted his weird musings and Lopez, making a face at the bitter taste left in his mouth, headed for the door. Two of his sisters were standing there and he quickly stood aside as they flew past him in a swirl of bright colors and sweet perfume.
"Hey, ladies, what's going on?"
Daniella dropped down onto one of the two barstools that fronted Marco's short kitchen counter and crossed her legs, displaying nylon clad legs and dressy sandals with heels. "We're heading to the stores for some shopping, hermano mio. We both have dates tonight and need to pick up a few things."
He rubbed a hand across his bristly chin, trying to recall the name of Johnny's friend. "A date by the name of Rico, maybe?"
"Hey, how'd you know that?" She queried, flipping her hair back and crossing her arms before directing a fierce glare at him.
Marco grinned. "I have my connections…."
Feeling Juanita's equally annoyed stare, he threw up his hands in easy surrender. "Okay, okay, I actually met your new friend a couple of days ago in a bar over by my co-worker's apartment; apparently Rico knows Johnny."
"Oh, that makes sense; I haven't seen Rico since last weekend. And when we've talked on the phone, well," she stopped, blushing prettily. "We've been talking about other things."
Juanita giggled and sashayed over to the refrigerator. She perused the contents quickly and grabbed a Coke, leaning a hip against the door to close it. "I suppose you want to know why we've dropped in on you, Marco."
Marco shrugged and sat down on the couch. "Everybody is always coming and going around here. Most of them don't have a reason for the visit, except to say hello or to see what you're doing."
He hadn't been exaggerating when he had told John several days ago that his family owned most of the houses on the street. His grandparents had started out owning one house and had steadily added empty lots and other houses to their real estate portfolio, all on this street and the one south. Now two thirds of the homes on this street were occupied by a Lopez; it was fine if you wanted to move away but the house had to be sold or rented to another family member. There were advantages living two houses from your parents or across the street from two of your three sisters but obviously, there were some negatives to the whole situation, privacy being the number one issue.
"Well, that's part of the problem, see? I don't want Mama to meet my current boyfriend yet so I have to go to his apartment, so, you know, she doesn't see his car and send someone over to check him out."
"And she promised this joker she would cook him a meal fit for a king, but since she can't cook she needs your help," Daniella interrupted with an amused snort. "And before you ask, no, I can't help her because I have other plans."
"Juanita might not have inherited the cooking gene like the rest of us, but she sure is handy with a wrench. It's not a problem, I'll help you out." Marco leaned forward in his seat so that he could see the older of the two girls better. "You're always working on my car for me; you sure saved me a lot of money the other day on the repairs."
His sister casually studied her short nails, pleased at his words. "Next time call me right away though, okay Marco?"
"Yeah, I will. Now what kind of food do you want me to cook up? And when do you need it?"
They worked out the details and the ladies departed, leaving a faint trail of perfume in their wake. Marco checked his watch and decided on a quick shower. He had told Roy that he would help him finish setting up the backyard for the barbecue so he would need to get there about a half hour early. Since his date only lived ten minutes away, that still left him plenty of time to shower, fill the cooler sitting in his trunk with ice, and add the already purchased beer. The weather was definitely cooperating with no rain in sight – he was really looking forward to an evening of relaxation with the new crew. Grinning, he headed for the bathroom.
~eeeEEEeee~
"You sure you only need to bring some beer?" Mary asked her brother as she watched him thump two chilled twelve packs into the back of his van. He nodded his head, scratched it, and paused, hand on the door.
"We got some pop we can bring along? I think Roy said he had some hard booze, so if anybody wants mixed drinks or just some alcohol free beverages…."
She trailed behind Chet as he stomped back into the house. "No, you and Jack drank it all and didn't replace it."
The phone rang and she let him snag it, listening with partial attention as she opened the fridge and double checked the beverage situation. Chet wasn't saying much on his end, mostly one word acknowledgements, which told her the call was for him. She was thankful for that, because she had an uneasy feeling that Larry, the boss's son, wasn't going to stop at bothering her just at work. He had easy access to her personnel file, obviously, and she wouldn't be surprised if he showed up on the door step or started calling her. There had been several hang-ups earlier today and two last night so perhaps he had already started.
Perusal of the icebox completed, she turned her full attention on her brother. He was still standing by the phone with his hand on the handset and a puzzled look on his face. Seeing her concern, he gave himself a shake. "Phew, that was one weird phone call."
"Who was it?" She asked sharply, wondering if it had been Larry after all.
"Oh, it was Roy, telling us not to worry about coming over early to help set up. He's already done most of it, and he couldn't reach Marco before he left, so he can help finish up."
"What's so strange about that?" Mary queried in relief, hoping Chet hadn't noticed her earlier tone.
"That's not the strange part; it's the part where DeSoto told me to watch out for purple Ruth on the prowl!"
"Purple Ruth on the prowl?" She repeated back as they locked up and headed out. "What in the world does that mean?"
They climbed into the van and he answered as he backed down the driveway. "Well, I think Ruth is his wife's mother, if I remember correctly. And I know she is here for a visit without her husband, so maybe that's what he's talking about? Dunno, Kat, no idea what the purple business is or why a grandmother would be on the prowl for anything…"
She giggled. "That's painting a vivid image in my mind, Chester. So we have time to stop for some pop then, don't we?"
"Sure, sure but hey, if you really want to hear a great story, listen to this. See, this Ruth punched Johnny in the mouth and shoved Roy into a wedding cake, of course that was after poor Roy threw up all over her and…..*"
~TBC~
*E is For Embarrassment, chapter 2
A/N – Thanks for reading! I appreciate the feedback!
