Chapter 16 - Party
During the swimming rescue drills in the pool, I found myself with a lot more energy than usual. I was able to rescue the heavy sand-filled dummy they'd dropped in the pool, with several seconds to spare on the stopwatch.
I stood along the edge of the pool, watching Mullers then best my time by at least 5 seconds. Well, I was improving on my best time.
Harris couldn't participate in the water exercises with the class so he stood poolside, his arm sling newly cleaned, and looked formidable. Everyone in our squadron now had a new respect for him due to his actions at the shooting range. Unfortunately for Callahan, the lack of respect Harris used to have trickled towards her.
"Your victim would be dead," Callahan remarked, as a slower member of our squadron stepped out of the pool.
"My victim is filled with sand," the cadet replied back matter-of-factly. "There's nothing I could have done for them." I cringed. It was a bit odd that Captain Callahan had lost so much respect with the students. Connie Manson had really scared the crap out of everyone on the gun range. As tough as she came across, the fact that Callahan couldn't disarm or talk down Connie Manson really resonated with everyone. I would have felt bad for her, if she wasn't so damn ungrateful to Lieutenant Harris for what he'd done.
"Watch your mouth," Callahan hissed back.
The cadet walked away, rolling his eyes and giving Callahan a dismissive wave.
"I saw that, punk!" Harris suddenly snarled. "You listen to Callahan or you'll play the victim next time!"
"Sorry," the cadet mumbled sheepishly, and quickly took his place in line behind the others once again.
I could see Harris puffing out his chest and gloating. He certainly made his emotions obvious. I had to admit, getting such an about-face with the students must have felt pretty good to someone who worked so hard to get respect.
On Friday night, I met Harris at his car. He was in the best mood I'd ever seen him in.
"Nice week, eh?" he said to me, as I opened the car door.
"I'm so glad you're getting treated so well," I said. "The squadron realizes you saved all our skins."
"Yeah, all except Callahan. Still got her panties in a bunch that Zed didn't get to plaster those pictures everywhere. Can you believe it? I saved her life and she's still treating me like garbage."
"I don't know how she can be so mad at you," I said.
"It's that damn commandant job," he replied. "I'm sure of it. Well, that and the fact that I made her look like a big pussy on the shooting range. I can almost guarantee she thinks I threw her under the bus with Lassard."
"What was that all about with you and him, anyway?" I asked. We hadn't really had a chance to talk about that encounter in Lassard's office. I felt like I hadn't belonged there to hear Harris get built up then dressed down. "Why did you not give yourself any credit for what you did?"
"'Cause whenever something good happens to me, something bad follows. What's that saying—pride goes before destruction—well, that definitely applies to me. I'm just finally starting to realize it."
"Well, that makes sense," I replied. I could definitely see that being true. Harris would have these fits of total arrogance, only to make a horrible mistake later or have something awful happen to him. "I'm glad those pictures are long-gone."
"Me too. I have half a mind to go to the station and tell Mahoney off. I thought we had finally reached an understanding after all these years, and then Zed acts like a whack-job with that damn camera and I'm the one put in cuffs."
"What would you say to him, though? He's a big cheese over there."
"I dunno," he replied. "I'm thinking about it. Gonna have to mention saving the asses of everyone in the squadron, for sure. I'm sure he'll agree that that took balls."
"Are you going to turn down your ego with him like you did with Lassard? Saying it in that way might—"
"It's hard with Mahoney," he replied. "Little prick showed me once again that any respect between us is short-lived."
"Yeah, that sucks."
"Anyway, I should put myself in the line of fire more often. Seems to pay off."
"Well, if you don't get shot," I said with a smile.
We lie in bed together in Harris's house, both of us feeling a new level of satisfaction, most likely stemming from Lassard's encouragement of our relationship coupled with people actually treating Harris well for once.
"Was that as good for you as it was for me?" Harris croaked.
"Definitely," I replied. "Might have been the best one yet."
"I agree." There was a moment of awkward silence. "You say that engagement party's this weekend?" he asked.
"Right—shit," I said, rolling over and looking at the time on the clock. Almost midnight. "Ugh, I don't want to see them. Not only that, but I don't have anything to wear and I have no idea how I'm going to get there."
"My Corvette's all fixed up," he said. "We could take it there. And since you got no car, I could take you to the store."
"So you'll go with me then?" I asked, looking at him with a smile. "I mentioned it the other day but assumed that wasn't your thing when you never said anything about it."
"Oh, well, I only a couple other things on my mind, you know—getting killed by a psycho student, getting fired by Lassard, my reputation in this town destroyed by Mahoney and that whack-job Zed…."
"Point taken," I said, grimacing. I guess that was true. There had been quite a lot of craziness since I'd mentioned the party last.
"So your younger sister is the engaged one, right?" he asked.
"Yeah, to a guy I used to know in grade school. Now he's some hot shot. Not sure what he does."
"How do you think they're gonna react to me?" he said. "I'm obviously more seasoned than that… college boyfriend of yours."
"Honestly," I said, sighing, "they'll probably ignore us to the point of annoyance. I've never gotten any attention in this family and I know for sure it's not gonna happen at my sister's fancy engagement party, of all places. I don't care, so please don't worry—"
"Obviously you do care or else you wouldn't have mentioned it. How many siblings you say you have again?"
"Four. I'm the middle of all of them. Ugh."
"Sisters, brothers?"
"Eldest is my brother John," I said, carefully watching my expression. "Next is my sister Alice. Then me. Then my brother Joe. Then my sister Angie, the youngest. They are either going to ignore us or patronize us. You got any siblings?"
"One brother. His son is married to Proctor's sister."
"Wait—" I blurted, "—you're related to Proctor?"
Harris turned a slight shade of red and shook his head disapprovingly.
"You'd never know it by the way he's abandoned me to ram his head up Mahoney's ass. I'll be confronting both of them real soon."
"You can do that after the engagement party," I suggested with a chuckle, "just in case you get thrown in jail."
The look he gave me was one in which he actually seemed to be considering jail as a possible consequence. I quickly rushed to lighten the statement.
"Just kidd—"
"Nope," he said curtly. "We can't put anything past Mahoney."
It was 11:30 am on Saturday and Harris was due to arrive any time now. I had finished getting dressed and felt awkward as hell. The black heels I was wearing were so old and neglected that I had had to dust them off beforehand. Truth to tell, I wasn't a big dress person either. The idea of having no material between my thighs was an odd feeling. I had applied some much-needed makeup to my face, taking the time to make my short eyelashes visible with some black mascara and covering my array of skin discolorations. I even went so far as to apply some lipstick—just a mauve color to give me the illusion of lips. I looked in the mirror one last time before heading out of my apartment. My blue dress was knee-length, sleeveless and rather plain but the fabric was a bit shiny and made it more formal looking. I chose the color because of its implication with the police. Surely my younger sister would be wearing fire-engine red. She had always been the flashy one. Speaking of flashy, I wondered what kind of suits Harris had. He hadn't yet met my family. How would they react? I figured it would go one of two ways: they would either ignore me completely, which was most likely, or they'd make me feel like shit. Hopefully my mother had already told them that I was going to school to be a cop, so the shock of that would be over by now. The idea that I had a seemingly normal boyfriend (albeit older) would be major news to them. Even so, I was starting to regret even thinking of attending this party—perhaps I could pretend I was sick. No, not pretend—I was already starting to feel nauseated just thinking about the party.
Just then I heard a honk coming from outside. Harris was here. What was I going to do? I went to the window and peered down at the road below. Harris's ruby red Corvette sat purring in front of the entrance to my building. It had been detailed and polished to be almost reflective. I gulped and grabbed my purse, locking the door as I teetered in the laughably low heels.
As I clambered down the steps to the main entrance, I saw Harris get out of the car. He was wearing a white blazer, black bowtie and black pants. He had apparently washed his arm sling, because it was as bright white as his blazer was. His hair was combed very neatly and the silver in his hair really shone in the sun. It was nice that he wasn't wearing a hat, for once. He certainly had a lot more hair than most people his age and it was a distinguished color. Hell, even my sister's fiancé Larry had majorly thinning hair.
The apartment entrance door closed behind me as Harris opened the passenger side door to his car. I felt the air conditioning hit me in the face, cool and inviting in the humid summer heat.
"Thank you," I said, a bit taken aback by the chivalry. Chivalry may have existed to this point, but it certainly didn't exist for me. Guys just don't hold open doors for a plain Jane like me.
"You're welcome," he replied, making sure my dress was safe inside before shutting the door. He walked back around the car and got inside. He looked over at me, his eyes scanning me from head to toe.
"You clean up well," he said, smiling at me.
"So do you. So distinguished," I replied, smiling right back.
"As a matter of fact, I wore this very outfit to a ceremony for Lassard in Miami Beach in which we apprehended a gang of men who had kidnapped Lassard."
"What?" I blurted, caught off-guard. "Lassard was kidnapped?"
"Yup."
"I had no idea."
"Lassard had no idea either," was the reply, with an eyeroll. "He thought it was some kind of game. Of course, now I'm the bad guy for having lost respect for him."
"He did burn those pictures," I said. "I think he's a bit too far gone to really think you're a bad guy—I mean, he didn't even realize he was kidnapped."
"Too far gone to realize when he's being held hostage, but not too far gone to retire. Hell, I'll probably end up retiring before he does."
Shortly before noon, we pulled up at the country club in the Corvette. Again Harris opened the car door for me and I made sure my card for Angie and Larry was in my purse before we headed inside.
"I didn't realize you were bringing that," I said to Harris, gaping as I caught sight of a sidearm under his blazer.
"I always carry it," he said. "Just in case."
"I'm pretty sure no one in my family is a criminal," I muttered, rolling my eyes.
"You mean, except for you," he replied with a wink.
"Right," I said with a scoff. "Thanks for reminding me. You know, I'm actually considering just throwing this card from the car and leaving. I just don't feel right about this."
"I won't say no more," he replied quickly, putting his hand up in surrender. "Just elbow me when I should talk. In my good arm, of course."
The country club was all lit up inside and the cul-de-sac in front of the building even had a parking attendant.
"Damn, Carnegie, I thought you said your family wasn't wealthy," Harris commented, as he walked beside me up a set of steps to the party.
"They really aren't. I'd say upper middle class—maybe a little above that," I commented. "Of course, Angie's fiancé Larry might also be footing the bill for this. He makes good money."
"Huh," grunted Harris. He fell silent and I was left to wonder what he was thinking. I didn't want to ask in case someone was within earshot of us.
Soon we were at the front door of the country club. An attendant decked out in a splendid red uniform held open the door. "Are you here for the Carnegie-Allen engagement party?" he asked. I answered in the affirmative. Harris walked a step ahead of me into the building to see the very ritzy setup.
The main foyer, which was a rather large space, was lit by giant taper candles. Plates of hors d'oeuvres sat on tall yet small round tables with long white tablecloths. People in shimmering gowns mingled and giggled as waiters brought them champagne and mixed drinks. I didn't recognize anyone yet, and I felt so out of place it wasn't funny. If the engagement party had to have this level of glamour, how much was the damn wedding going to cost? A million dollars?
"Really, a Corsica, Carnegie?" Harris chuckled, elbowing me rather sharply. He of course was referring to the reason I'd met him in the first place, for driving away with my college ex Tony's Chevy Corsica.
"I'm a stupid asshole—what can I say," I replied, frowning as I felt my blood boil. "And just to let you know, I'm about to leave."
"Why?" he said, suddenly snapping out of his mockery.
"Because you're being a dick, that's why." I shot back, crossing my arms defensively as a waiter approached us. "That, and this party is ridiculous—even more than I thought it would be."
"Alright, alright, I crossed the line," he muttered, shaking his head apologetically. "Sorry, Carnegie."
"Another thing—" I said, waving the waiter away as I continued to talk to Harris, "—call me April. There are multiple Carnegies here and it would make me look like less of a pariah if you call me by my first name."
"Well, in that case," he said, "you ought to call me Thaddeus. Calling me Lieutenant or Harris would probably sound odd to your folks."
"Right," I said, taking another look around me for anyone I knew. A string quartet began to play classical music as another band of overdressed people entered the country club. The level of pretentiousness that my family was displaying at this engagement party made me feel even more self-conscious and more like a loser than usual. I thought my low point had been when I'd been arrested for stealing the Corsica, but this was a very close second. Yes, I had a boyfriend now, he had a nice car, and my life was currently on a different trajectory, but I wasn't done with the academy yet and Harris was being kind of an asshole to me with two snide remarks so far. All this, and I hadn't even talked to my family yet. If this didn't turn around in five minutes, I was leaving, with or without him.
