As always, many thanks for the reviews. This chapter ends a bit abruptly, but it was simply getting too long.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Alex woke with a start. For a few moments she couldn't remember where she was and wondered if her memories of the previous night were the result of a particularly vivid dream. As her mind cleared, she stretched and reached for Bobby, but his side of the bed was rumpled and unoccupied. A wave of panic swept over her, but disappeared when the smell of coffee reached her. She sat up carefully and saw Bobby sitting in one of the chairs at the room's table. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt, a black silk tie, and the pants from his best black suit. The jacket from that suit hung on the chair's back. Bobby stared at the table, his hands wrapped around a coffee cup. He had shaved and his hair was neatly combed, but the dark circles under his eyes stood out in vivid contrast to his pale skin. It was a mark of his concentration that he failed to notice Alex get out of the bed and walk towards him. She was nearly by his side before he became aware of her.
"Hey," he said softly. "You…you want some coffee?" He stood. "Or you could go back to bed. You don't have to get up for a while."
All of his defenses were up and in full operation. "Coffee," Alex said carefully. "Definitely coffee." She might not try a full frontal assault, but she certainly wasn't going to retreat.
He moved to get her a cup from the small pot provided in the room. "There's not much sugar," he apologized in a soft, strained voice.
Alex sat at the table. The air was slightly chilly, and she would've liked to have more on than just her T-shirt and underwear, but she wasn't going to leave the room. "It'll get me through until we go the breakfast," she said evenly.
Moving as if he were on automatic pilot, Bobby brought her coffee. As he handed the cup to her, their hands brushed and their eyes met. Bobby reeled away from her as if he'd been struck. He stopped in front of the room's window, one hand furiously rubbing the back of his neck.
"Bobby." Alex stood and walked to him.
His right hand shot up to stop her. "I…I'm sorry, Alex…After what…what you gave me last night…"
Her heart lifted. He acknowledged her gift; he valued it.
"I owe you so much…But…but if I'm going to get through this day…I…I…" His shoulders slumped. "It's not fair…not at all fair to you…But the only way I can get through this…" His hand fell.
Alex gently touched his back. She felt his muscles and nerves vibrate beneath the soft cotton. He spun and wrapped his arms around her.
"I…I don't know," he choked. "I don't know if I can do this."
She held him. "I'll be there…and others," she said, trying to reassure both of them. "We'll help…We'll be there." She brushed her hand across his short curls. "C'mon…I'll shower and get dressed, and we can get some breakfast. You need some food. You've barely eaten anything since I got here."
He shook and took a deep breath. "Ok."
Alex started to leave his room. "I have to warn you," Bobby said. "I…I may not…I know I won't…give you the attention you deserve today…I…I'll need to concentrate on…" He waved a hand.
"It's ok," Alex said patiently. "After all of this…Then we can talk. I understand. You do what you need to today."
"I…I don't deserve you…"
"Yes, you do," Alex said firmly. "You are a good man…"
He turned away from her so that she couldn't see the tears in his eyes.
"Just give me time to get ready," she said gently. "Then you can buy me breakfast."
As she showered and dressed, Alex prayed to the God whose intentions and actions she hadn't understood since she was ten. "Please…forgive me for what I did…if it was wrong…It couldn't have been wrong…I don't know if I need to ask for forgiveness…But…please…please…let me help him…"
She moved quickly, afraid that Bobby might bolt from the hotel. He didn't; Alex found him standing in his room staring out the window. He'd put on his jacket, and his face looked very pale in contrast to the black suit. Alex felt as lost and confused as Bobby looked.
"Hey," she said.
He titled his head in the direction of her voice. "Hey."
"Ready for some breakfast?"
"Not really," he admitted. "I don't think I'm ready for anything…but I don't have much choice…" He faced her. "You look great."
"So do you…aside from the lack of sleep," Alex answered. "I think," she added tentatively. "Your Mom would be very proud…"
"Thank you," he said after a beat. "We…we should go…"
There was a brief discussion over how many and then which car to take and then who should drive, although Bobby gave in easily to Alex's insistence that she drive and he ride with her. It was early, and Alex grateful that the diner was open. There were few patrons, and the waitress quickly took and delivered their orders.
"Where's Martha?" Bobby asked as the young woman deposited the plates on the table. "Is she ok?"
"Oh, she's fine," the waitress replied. "She asked me to trade shifts with her this morning. Said she had something to do."
Bobby nodded and returned to his dark study of the restaurant's parking lot. He ate very little, much less than Alex, who managed only a few bites herself. The words he addressed to the waitress were some of the few he uttered throughout the meal. His silence continued on the short drive to the funeral home. They arrived in plenty of time; it was just after eight when Alex carefully parked. Bobby sat motionless in the passenger seat.
"Your brother," Alex ventured. "Will he be here?"
Bobby fumbled with the door handle. "I don't know," he said. "He knows…but he also knows Mom didn't have any money…But he did come to see her after he found that out…"
He stepped out of the car. The weather was uncertain, with light sunshine alternating with great, dark clouds. The wind gusted occasionally, and Bobby blamed his shivering on those gusts.
"Alex," he said hesitantly. "Would you…could you…here and at the church…sit next to me?"
"Of course," she said, deeply aware of the trust he placed in her. "Whatever you want."
"What I want," he said sadly as they walked to the entrance. "Is to go home and hide…but that's not an option."
They were early, but the funeral director was ready and greeted them at the door. In common with many other funeral homes in small towns, this one was a large, old house that must have been one of the town's jewels fifty years ago. The hallway still bore some of the home's elegance, including an elaborate chandelier that Alex suspected was more glass than crystal. The sickeningly sweet smell of too many hot house flowers and the sound of muted organ music reminded Alex of all of the funerals she'd attended. The director guided them to a room on the left. Bobby was just in front of Alex, and as he entered the room he stopped so quickly that Alex nearly slammed into his broad back.
"Bobby? What is it?" she asked anxiously.
He lurched to the side so that she could enter the room. Alex had rarely seen so many flowers. They surrounded the casket and extended from it around the room's walls. Bobby, stunned, stood with his fist to his mouth.
"There have also been many gifts to the Carmel Ridge hospital and the Mental Health Society," the funeral director said gently. "I have those, and a few other things if you wouldn't mind coming to my office, Mr. Goren. Or we could wait…"
"Now," Bobby managed to say. "I'd like to get it done." He remembered Alex. "If…if you don't mind, Eames."
"Of course it's all right," Alex said. "Eames," she thought. "Now he calls me Eames."
She walked around the room and examined the flowers. There was a large, disconcertingly cheerful arrangement from Lewis; a tasteful and subdued one from the Deakins family; and several from different Major Case Squad members. One of the largest bouquets represented the entire Squad, and several others from other NYPD branches dotted the room. Alex smiled when she saw Ron Carver's name on one of the cards, and started and smiled when she saw M.E. Rodgers' name on another. Ross had made a contribution, as well as several members of the Brass. One particularly elegant arrangement of spring flowers bore Alex's family's name. There were many names she didn't recognize, but Alex guessed these flowers came from the staff and patients at Carmel Ridge.
Bobby, clutching several envelopes, entered the room. He looked lost for a moment.
"Here," Alex said gently. "I can put those in my purse."
"Thank you," he said and handed the cards to her without looking at her.
He stepped to the casket and stood with one fist in front of his mouth. Alex approached him carefully. She had never met his mother, and, if pressed, would have to confess that her view of Frances Goren was not a positive one. She knew the woman suffered from a terrible and unpredictable illness, but Alex only saw how this haunted and plagued Bobby. And she couldn't get the sight of that unwrapped birthday present out of her mind.
Alex had seen one or two pictures of Bobby's mother, and her first impression on viewing those was that there was little physical resemblance between the mother and son. A closer look revealed that the two shared the same long, dark eyelashes. More importantly, Alex learned from Bobby's few words that his mother provided the sparks for his great passions for reading and acquiring knowledge. She also strongly suspected that Frances Goren was responsible for Bobby's strong senses of compassion and justice.
Dressed in a neat, crisp, pale blue suit, Frances Goren's body lay in a simple casket. White rosary beads weaved in and out of her long, elegant fingers, and Alex recognized another quality the mother shared with the son. Her body was terribly thin, and Alex suspected the short black hair was a wig, but her face possessed a remarkably peaceful expression.
Bobby hadn't moved since he stepped in front of the casket.
"She…she looks peaceful," Alex said and immediately cursed herself for saying the sort of thing she hated to hear at funerals.
He jerked his head in her direction as if he'd forgotten her presence. "She…she lost so much weight," he said. His voice was calm, but Alex heard the strain in his words. "The last week…I don't think she ate anything…Frank…Frank was actually worried about it…He told me…But I wouldn't…I talked to the doctors and nurses and they agreed that the feeding tube wouldn't be a good idea…Frank…I don't know if he agreed…" He was suddenly aware of the flowers. "Where…where did all these come from?" he said in wonder.
"Everywhere," Alex said gently.
Bobby walked from one arrangement to the next. "I…I don't understand," he muttered, stunned by the number of bouquets and their sources. "Why…They didn't know her…"
"They know her son," Alex said softly.
Bobby stared at the flowers.
The priest arrived a few minutes before nine. He spoke briefly with Bobby, and then entered into a consultation with the funeral director. Others soon followed, and Bobby grew more and more stunned as more and more people entered the funeral home. Lewis was one of the first; he apologized awkwardly but sincerely to Bobby for not being in touch with him during his mother's illness.
"Whatever you need, man," he said warmly and patted Bobby on the back before he turned to Alex "Detective Alex," he said. "I'm glad you're here with him." Bobby was greeting more people. "How is he?"
Alex heard those words a lot in the next hour. A stream of people paraded past her; some she recognized—the older man who knew so much about horseracing, the biker guy with a knowledge of tattoos, the rabbi, the guy who worked at the Smithsonian (and just happened to be on of the museum's directors). Odafin Tutuola, accompanied by his partner John Munch, arrived. Alex knew that Fin and Bobby became close when they worked Narcotics together, but Munch's presence baffled her enough that she asked the detective why he came. Munch shrugged his shoulders.
"I met Goren through Fin. First time I met him, he shot down all of my conspiracy theories in a couple of hours. Then I spent a couple of hours shooting down his explanations. And he didn't mind. I like Goren." Munch shrugged again. "And Fin wanted some company and I have plenty of black suits."
People continued to arrive. Martha from the diner appeared, and Alex relaxed this was the "thing" she had to do. Alex expected Ross, but not his careful and gentle approach with Bobby. She didn't expect to see much of the Major Case Squad to arrive with Mike Logan and Megan Wheeler leading them.
"I owe him," Logan explained to Alex.
"He's been very kind to me," Wheeler added.
The appearance of Carolyn Barek didn't surprise Alex. She knew something of Bobby and Carolyn's brief relationship that ended at the same time Carolyn left Major Case for the NYPD's antiterrorism squad. Bobby said very little about the breakup—he rarely spoke at all about any relationship—but Alex sensed at the time that this event deeply hurt him. Alex talked briefly with Carolyn around the time of the relationship's collapse; all Carolyn would say was, "He won't let me help him…and there's someone…" As she stood watching Carolyn move towards Bobby, Alex realized with a shock that that "someone" was Alex Eames. Bobby was as stunned to see Carolyn as he had been to see everyone else, and he was even more shocked by her gentle hug.
As Carolyn turned to her, Alex felt transparent for the first time that morning. No one else knew both her and Bobby well enough to detect what happened between them the previous night. Carolyn possessed the intelligence, instincts, and knowledge to read them.
"Alex…How are you?" If she suspected anything, Carolyn hid it well.
"Ok," Alex answered. "Aside from worrying about Bobby."
Carolyn turned to look sadly at Bobby. "He's got all of his defenses up…It must be costing him a lot," she said.
"Yea." Alex and Carolyn shared a sympathetic look before another person approached Alex.
The stream of people continued. Several members of the Carmel Ridge staff, led by Dr. Shimo, appeared, along with several patients. Bobby treated the patients with great care and respect, showing no sign of embarrassment when one gave him an overly long hug and another burst into wild tears when she saw him. Ron Carver arrived to surprise Bobby. Danny Ross and James Deakins arrived at the same time; true to her word, Angie Deakins accompanied her husband. Alex glanced around the crowded room. Bobby had always kept his life in strict, separate sections. In the last days of his mother's life, those boundaries were smashed and destroyed until all of the sections bled together to join in this room.
A commotion started at the front door, and Alex watched Bobby's brother stagger into the room. Sensing he might need support, Alex moved closer to Bobby.
"Frank," he said warily.
"Jeez, I'm sorry, Bobby," Frank said. "I had some trouble finding the funeral home…and getting a car."
Bobby and Alex both examined Frank Goren with skepticism. Frank didn't appear drunk, but Alex didn't trust him.
"I just can't believe she's gone," Frank continued. "It happened so fast…"
Bobby fidgeted with one of his cuff links. "She'd been sick for about nine months, Frank."
"I know…but still…" Frank lowered his voice. "And you're having a Mass…"
Bobby's fidgeting increased. "It's what she wanted…she was clear about it…"
"But…I mean…was she still even Catholic? And you said she didn't have any money…what's paying for all of this?"
Bobby stiffened, and Alex fought her impulse to smack Frank up the side of the head.
"Medicare let her put some money away for funeral expenses," Bobby said quietly. "If she hadn't put it away, Medicare would've taken it."
Frank couldn't leave well enough alone. "But she must have left something," he insisted. "Something for us…"
Bobby sighed. "Everything Mom left is in a box in the trunk of my car. You're welcome to all of it if you want."
Either distracted or tired of dealing with his brother, Frank moved away.
"You handled him a lot better than I would have," Alex said.
"Well," Bobby said softly. "I do have some sense of what's right sometimes." He smiled weakly and looked across the room. Frank had cornered the funeral director and spoke to him with great urgency. Bobby shook his head. "Poor guy…Frank's probably trying to find out if there's money hidden in the coffin…He'll probably be after Dr. Shimo next." Bobby sighed. "At lease he's sober and not threatening anyone." Bobby looked around the room in awe. "So…so many people…I…I'm grateful…but…most of them never knew her…" His eyes were dark and puzzled.
Alex lightly touched his arm. "I think," she said deliberately. "Like I said before…They're here for her son."
Bobby stared at the floor as he struggled with Alex's words.
A brief prayer service started, and as they moved to their seats, Alex watched with some irritation as Frank settled in the chair closest to the casket. Bobby sat next to his brother, Alex next to him. She paid little attention to the priest's words; she was aware only of Bobby. The short service was over almost before Alex knew what was happening. Bobby spoke with the funeral director, and Lewis appeared at Alex's side.
"Frank being a jerk." It was more of a statement than a question.
"A little," Alex admitted.
Lewis shook his head. "He hasn't changed."
Bobby stepped back to Alex. "Frank," he said uneasily. "Wants to ride in the limo behind the hearse…"
"Well, he has the right," Alex said evenly.
"You…you don't have to ride with us…" Bobby said unsteadily.
Alex laid a hand on his chest. "Do you want me to?"
He looked at her gratefully. "Yes…please…"
The atmosphere inside the limo on the blessedly short drive to the church was strained. Frank babbled about the funeral's expenses and how his mother would've wanted him to have something. His words suggested that he was convinced he was being cheated out of something, and that his younger brother was responsible. Bobby sat stoically in a corner.
"I didn't even get to spend much time with her," Frank whined.
Alex couldn't suppress her anger any longer. "And whose fault was that?" she asked. "Bobby went to see her every week…Called every day…Where were you?"
"Whoa," Frank said. "You've got a live one there, Bobby."
Bobby roused from his silence like a great bear waking from hibernation. "Don't, Frank," he warned in a voice made all the more menacing for its softness. "Don't you dare say anything to her or about her. I don't care if it's our mother's funeral. You will regret it."
Bobby leaned forward as he spoke, and Frank, who sat across from him in the limo's huge backseat, fell back against the seat. Alex sensed it might have been the first time Bobby had challenged Frank in a long time; it certainly seemed to be the first time Frank had seen the quiet, terrifying intimidation Bobby employed in the interrogation room.
"And I'm the reason," Alex thought. She wanted to hold Bobby, to tell him how grateful she was for his defense, how much she loved him. She settled for a light touch on Bobby's arm that his brother was too preoccupied to notice.
They rode in an icy silence for the rest of the trip. When they stopped, Frank sprang from the limo so eagerly that Alex thought he might run into the church ahead of his mother's coffin. Bobby moved stiffly, forcing one foot in front of the other. As they waited for the funeral director and his assistants to move the casket to the church entrance Frank turned to his brother.
"Jeez, Bobby, where are the pallbearers?"
Bobby jerked, and Alex fought the urge to punch Frank in the nose.
"I didn't know who to ask," Bobby said, recovering. "Of if anyone would be here."
Alex hadn't been sure she was still Catholic since she first questioned the concept of the Immaculate Conception in Junior High, but she still found the Church's rites and rituals to offer comfort. "The Catholic Church knows how to bring you and get you out of this world," one of here uncles was fond of saying, and Alex grudgingly admitted the truth of that statement. The presence of the Carmel Ridge patients concerned her slightly, but they were as respectful as the rest of the large crowd. There was an occasionally over exuberant "Amen" or too loudly sung hymn, but these seemed expressions of genuine grief and affection.
Frank Goren quickly seized the seat in the front pew closest to his mother's coffin. Bobby sat beside him with Alex next to him. Frank started sniffling as the Mass began, and Alex found his signs of mourning to be part of a performance designed to pull attention to him. Alex attempted to ignore Frank in favor of focusing on Bobby, who sat eerily quiet through the service. His stoic face wavered only once. During his short eulogy, the priest spoke of how Frances Goren's life provided an example of courage in the face of suffering.
"Her life," the priest also said. "Gives us another lesson—a lesson on how to give love. I came to know Frances Goren when I came to this parish five years ago. She was intelligent, very funny, and often very frustrating to deal with. In the face of her anger and confusion, her son Robert cared for his mother with grace and love. In this I saw the best side of human nature in this gift of love from a son to his mother."
Bobby trembled and blinked at the priest's words. He regained control, but Alex saw Frank briefly glare at his brother with a mix of jealousy and rage.
The Mass continued with its centuries old rituals and beats. Frank made a great show of going up to receive Communion; Alex and Bobby respected the religion they'd been brought up in enough not to leave their seats. As they waited to get in the limo for the trip to the cemetery, Alex lightly touched Bobby's sleeve.
"It was a lovely service," she said softly.
He nodded his head slightly to acknowledge her words. She wanted to hook her arm in his and let him know he wasn't alone, but her sense of the many eyes on them and Bobby's defenses held her back.
END CHAPTER SEVEN