26

Aligned Design

Ch 51

"Damn it," Bobby mumbled under his breath. This set of scores was worse than last time. He needed to get serious about his shooting. This was not going to look good. He hoped Deakins had forgotten about that Thursday deadline.

Bobby cleaned the weapon he had used, returned it, checked out, and then headed to his vehicle. Once inside he checked his watch – yep, her class would be over. He opened his phone and hit speed dial number one, Gleason's number. "Hi, Honey, how are you?" He always asked this. He really wanted to know. Gleason was always on his mind, consciously or not.

"He was pleased, huh? I'm sure he was." Bobby's heart fell a bit when Gleason mentioned Manlowe's response to her accepting the position. He forced himself to sound happy for her.

"How about if I stop and get dinner? . . . Pizza? You want pizza? . . . No, that's great! Is there anything you don't want on it? . . . Ok, no anchovies. . . . Be careful, Sweetheart. . . . I'll see you at home. . . . I love you. . . . Bye-bye."

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Gleason hung up and smiled. He loves me. I love him. So, so much. Forever. She saved her work to her thumb drive and closed up her computer. She gathered up her books, the papers from her night class and stood up. She had to lean on the desk for a minute. Ohhh, gee that hurts. Gleason reached for her bag on the floor and walked to the restroom, again.

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"I think you two should just stay here again tonight. What do you say?" Jenny and Tilley had just returned to Canvettelli's flat with bags of Chinese take away.

Detective Eames had returned Canvettelli's phone call but couldn't reach him. She'd left two messages on his cell phone and had called the gallery twice. Pat or Chris or whatever his/her/its name was, had told her that Canvettelli was expected, but was not in yet. Both times.

Canvettelli, Jenny, and Tilley had spent the day cavorting. Their fun included not only each other, but toys, fruit and videos. Canvettelli had called his assistant at Gal Larry and told him/her/it that he may be in later. Pat or Chris knew Canvettelli would not be in.

"Oh Cann, are you sure? We don't want to impose." Jenny dripped false sincerity and Cann saw right through it.

"Really, it is no problem. Besides, we do have fun, don't we?" he giggled.

"Well, we do have fun. If you insist, we will stay. You are too generous. Isn't he generous, Tilley?"

Palmer Tillman smiled sweetly at his lover's associate and his own new fuck-buddy and said, "Oh, yes, very generous. Very generous, indeed."

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"Bobby," Gleason walked from the bathroom to the living room where Bobby sat reading. He looked up and smiled. The smiled ended and he stood up.

"What's wrong?" He was to her in two strides; he took her arms in his hands and bent to look directly into her face. "Honey, what's wrong?"

"Bobby, I'm bleeding." She stepped into his arms. He hugged her and then stepped back to look at her.

"It's your period."

"No, this is a lot. My periods are light."

"What about the cramps you've had, it's just your period."

"No, this hurts. Bobby something is wrong."

He looked at her and his mind exploded. She didn't want this baby. She's done something. She's done something and now she's afraid because she's done something. What did you do, Gleason, what did you do?

Bobby didn't say anything and she looked up at him and did not know the man looking at her. He still held her arms and she tried to back away.

"Is this is what you wanted? It is, isn't it? You never wanted this baby. What did you do? What did you do, Gleason? You ended it, didn't you?" He let go of her arms, he spun away, and then he paced, arms flailing. "I can not believe you would do this! I can't believe this." Bobby grabbed his jacket and slammed the door on his way out.

Gleason moved to the sofa and huddled in the far corner. She was in shock. He thinks I. . . He thinks I. . . Oh, God, oh God. I didn't, I didn't, Baw--. Gleason began to gasp, she couldn't breathe. There was no air. Oh, my chest, get off, get off me, she thought. She was suddenly cold, numb. Gleason recognized that her heart was beating too slowly. Bawb--, the edges of her vision closed in and then everything went black.

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Bobby drove aimlessly. He drove and thought. The more he thought, the weaker he felt. His eyes filled and then spilled. Bobby pulled into a lot, put the car in park and cried. He put his head on his hands on the wheel and sobbed out loud. He wanted that baby. He wanted to have a family. He wanted to have a normal family, not like his own. He would spend time with his child. He would be a good father. He could be a good father. He wanted to be a father.

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I look good dead, she thought. She stood by the short bookcase, looking at herself on the sofa. She noticed the dark spot spreading beneath her. The last of the baby and his watery tomb ran from her body. She sat back against the top of the bookcase and crossed her arms. Bobby will be so sad. This will ruin him. He will never get over this. She shook her head. He loves me so much. Things were so good. She thought for a long moment. I cannot do this. I love him too much to have it end this way. Come home, Bobby, I need you.

She crossed the room to her body, Gleason's heart fluttered and she drew a weak breath. Wet, I'm wet. Oh, and it hurts! Ohhh, it hurts! Bawb--. . . and she slipped into a safe, unconscious state. Her heart beat as slowly as possible, just enough to keep her blood moving, taking oxygen to her brain. Her body protected itself by putting her into this unconscious state. She could not stay this way for long, however. Someone better come and find her soon. Bobby . . . ?

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Bobby sat in the lot. God his head hurt. He wanted a cigarette and a drink, not necessarily in that order. He wiped his face with both hands and blew his nose into his handkerchief.

One beer. One beer to get settled, he told himself. A beer and then a cigarette and then I'll go home. Yeah, that'll be good. Bobby put the car in drive and headed to Nixon's.

He was at the red light at Delancy and Chrissy. Turn right to go to Nixon's, turn left to head home. Bobby felt uneasy. He needed to go home. He wanted a drink and a cigarette, but he needed to go home. Go home, he told himself. Go home now. Turn left. Go home. He really felt as though something was wrong. He was at least thirty minutes from home at this hour. Go home. Bobby flipped open his cell and called home. It rang, And rang. She's not answering. Something is wrong. Go home. Bobby turned left and scrolled for Ted and Becky's number.

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"Hey, Ted, it's Bobby Goren. Say, can either you or Becky go across to my place and see if Gleason is ok? . . . Yeah, she's not been feeling well. I tried to call her and she's not answering. . . . Thanks. Ask her to call me, ok? . . . I'm on my way home now. Thanks Ted." Bobby flipped down the passenger side visor and pressed the button to start the flashing red and blue lights attached to it. He hit the gas and sped to his place.

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Ted and Becky Oelwein lived across the hall from Bobby; Ted was the building super and Becky was the manager. He and Becky crossed the hall and Ted knocked, "Gleason? Gleason are you ok?" They heard nothing and Ted opened the door with his master key. He went in first and headed straight for the bedroom. Becky saw Gleason slumped in the far corner of the sofa. She was unconscious and the cushion beneath her was dark with blood.

"Ted! She's here. Call 9-1-1!"

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He saw the lights from the corner. He stopped in the street and jogged to the bus, they were just bringing her out on a stretcher. An oxygen mask covered her nose and mouth and a blanket covered her body. An EMT held up an IV bag attached to her arm.

"What happened to her? What's wrong with her?" he asked.

"Bobby! Bobby, let them take care of her," Ted stepped to Bobby's side and put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "They're going to take her in and see what's happened."

Bobby turned and looked at Ted, "Tell me what happened."

Ted knew what had happened. It had happened to him and Becky after they were first married. He didn't want to tell his friend because he wasn't sure. He was sure, but he didn't want to be sure. "Bobby they are going to take her to hospital and find out."

"Tell me what happened. Why did you call 9-1-1?" Bobby looked intensely at the other man. "Ted, tell me."

Ted looked down and then up, "She was unconscious on the sofa. The, the," he took a deep breath and then continued, "the cushion under her is bloody. I'm sorry, Bobby."

"We're going to Methodist. Anyone coming?" the attendant mentioned.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming. Ted, move my car." Bobby tossed Ted his keys and then he jumped into the back of the bus.