Chapter 8 – Andre
I sat in the parked squad car watching commuters stroll on the sidewalk and cars zoom by on the street. Officers at the precinct were starting to trickle back after their holiday. I was waiting for Oscar to arrive and go inside first, so that I could avoid an awkward moment. I told myself to remain cool and calm. We decided to remain friends, but I thought it would do me good to keep a bit of distance. After half an hour passed, I got out of the car, straightened my shoulders and jacket, and tied my hair back before slowly going inside. The bustling squad room was back in action. Before I could sneakily retreat to my desk to huddle over some paperwork, Oscar spotted me from her office and waved. Seriously? Just one minute inside the building and I couldn't avoid her?
-"Hello," I greeted her as I poked my head into her office.
-"Morning, Andre," Oscar replied. She looked lovely, her shiny blonde hair falling around her shoulders. She seemed happy to see me.
-"Did you have a good—?"
-"What are you—?" We both spoke at the same time and then stopped. This was exactly the type of awkward moment I wanted to avoid, but it was bound to happen after the last time we saw each other. The nighttime talk in the squad room when she explained about Fersen. Her husband. I still couldn't believe it, but I had to.
-"You go ahead," I chuckled.
-"Oh…I was just going to ask if you had a good New Year's," Oscar said.
-"Oh. Yeah, it was quiet. Didn't do too much. Just listened to some records and talked to my grandma on the phone. Actually, I went to bed early."
-"Wow, I'll call you next time I need a quiet night, grandpa. Haha, Andre, why didn't you go out? There are so many good places right by you!"
-"I guess I could have, but I don't know…Well, what did you do?"
-"Oh, uh, I, uhhh… nothing," Oscar admitted. We both laughed.
-"Well, next time, maybe we should do nothing together," I said. Damn, it just slipped out of my mouth! Didn't I just tell myself that I would take it slow with Oscar?
-"Sure. Maybe sometime next week?" she suggested.
-"Sounds good."
I walked back to my desk with a resignation. What hold did Oscar have over me? The sensations that filled my body when she was near were unfamiliar. My stomach jumped at the sight of her, my ears hung on her every word, and my heart ached for her. But I couldn't have her. Perhaps this was my punishment for keeping all the women in my past at arm's length.
Some of these women had wanted the same thing that I did: a warm body for the night, someone fun to go out with. The women I felt guiltiest about were the ones who wanted more. The sweet and naïve women who would wait around for me, even when I hadn't promised anything. I couldn't begrudge them of their desire, a true and loving partner and relationship, but I also couldn't give it to them. I didn't want anything more; I couldn't want anything more because I didn't want to have anything to lose. If I didn't need her, then I couldn't lose her. So I had decided that I didn't need anyone. I was good at being alone. I didn't know if it was self-sabotage, but it had worked for me for twenty years.
So why was it that the presence of Oscar threw all these rules out the window? Maybe because she was there before the rules were set? She had been there when I loved without inhibition. She was there when I experienced the joy of giving without wanting, when nothing could be stolen from me, when no one could die. When my parents died, my innocence had died along with them. I had to grow up and be strong for my grandmother, who went back to work because of me. Oscar only knew this version of Andre and seemed to coax him out of who I had become, a man fearful of getting too close, afraid of love and inevitable loss.
I thought of the last woman who had tried to coax out this previous version of myself. Or at least provoke me to see how that version was different to how I was now. My grandmother had made the initial appointment with Christine Orleans. It had been while I was on administrative and medical leave from the undercover division at the Toronto Police Department. My division chief had to reorganize my role after it was revealed that I was a cop. I was still slowly recovering, but without enough to occupy myself, I toggled between going to the bar and retreating at home. I stopped seeing friends and co-workers. Then showering and shaving. My grandmother told me she was officially worried when she cooked dinner for me one night at my apartment. I had absolutely no motivation to leave the couch and zoned out of the conversation one too many times. I didn't even notice that the vinyl record I played kept skipping until my grandma walked over and turned it off. I was drinking too much, according to her. After weeks of dropping hints, she forced the appointment on me when she came over to drop off groceries.
-"Thanks, Granny, for the food. You're the best," I said, as I put on a smile for her sake.
-"Andre, I really think it would be good for you to see a therapist. She can really help you," she insisted.
-"I'm fine. I'll get better soon, okay? I'm even feeling better now that you're here," I reached over and tried to give her a bear hug under her protest.
-"What are you saying? You've been depressed for months…You're not snapping out of it, which means you need help," she retorted after escaping my grip.
-"I'm just tired and nothing's happening right now. If only I can just go back to work…" I sat at the kitchen table and rested my head on my arms.
-"Oh quit your moping and foolishness and just go see her already!" Granny put on her jacket and grabbed her purse. "I already made you an appointment for Thursday. My friend set it as a favor so you better be there if you don't want to embarrass me!" she hollered before closing the door on her way out.
Checking my phone after she left, Granny had texted me. I love you, grandson. I want to see you better. The appointment is at 10am on Thursday. I sighed and chuckled at her typical behavior. She was always reliably warm and prickly at the same time. Harsh on the outside, all heart and warmth on the inside, a tough New Yorker. But I didn't want to worry her. My grandma allowed me a lot of independence growing up. She had to, working hard to raise me as a single grandparent, but I knew she still worried about my well-being.
The first consultation. I generally liked meeting people and making friends. Which was why it had been hard to realize while growing up that every connection made could potentially be lost. I had to stop myself from going deeper. Every relationship was like a hollow vessel that could never be full. It felt like the only way I wouldn't hurt. That first meeting, I spoke reticently into that vessel, my statements echoing around the chamber while Christine's kind eyes squinted to listen and decipher.
It wasn't difficult to talk to Christine. Throughout the first couple sessions I talked about a range of topics: being on leave from my job, my grandma, the reason I had grown up with her. I was starting to feel comfortable with this whole therapy thing but then the unassuming questions started to pierce this façade, leaving me confused, annoyed, or distracted. Is that why you wanted to become a police officer? How do you characterize a successful romantic relationship?
The truth was I had never felt very close to any woman. I typically lost interest or severed the relationship out of guilt. I didn't know if I even wanted to get married. I always told myself that I would be open to it if a situation ever came up, but I never got there. Or maybe I never allowed myself to go there.
-"Do you want to go there?" Christine asked.
-"Sometimes. But if I do, it might get hard later. If we decide to break up," I stated pragmatically.
-"It's perfectly normal to have anxiety about a potential scenario. Do you act based on these potential scenarios? Rather than experiencing what's actually happening in the current moment?"
That was another question that left me not knowing how to answer. I guess I did do that sometimes, where I would dissect and overthink. I would find myself worried about what could happen and focusing more on that.
Christine prodded without being intrusive. I had been bashful at sharing details about my sex life with her, a woman who I didn't have any, nor intended to have, sexual relations with. Christine was an attractive woman, and I definitely noticed her shapely figure and kind eyes that looked brighter when she smiled. She had a gentle and refined demeanor, but her targeted coaxing and questioning could expertly cut down the assumptions and walls of reasoning I built around myself.
A month into starting sessions with Christine, a simple exercise turned into an important moment for my treatment. We had been talking about losing my parents and she asked me to write a letter. It would be addressed to my younger self when I was fifteen. I didn't need to share it with her; it wouldn't be read by anyone. I shrugged and agreed to participate. A week passed and the night before my next appointment, I sighed and sat down at my desk to drum out this letter to fifteen-year-old Andre.
At first, I didn't know what to write. How do you address your younger self? I started off stumbling by writing that he was going to be okay and that he was strong. As I gained momentum, I realized that I wrote to him with utmost care and gentleness. I wrote that it was okay for him to be sad and angry; it was perfectly normal to miss his parents. It wasn't his fault that they were gone. There was nothing he could have done to save them. After writing incessantly and frantically, tears started to fall on the page. I cried for my parents, but I also cried for the child who lost them. I cried for the future he never got. He never got to drive them around in a car just after getting his driver's license. He never got to celebrate his graduation together and have them see him go off to college. He never got to see them beam with pride as he safeguarded the community from harm. He never got to have them be proud of the man he would become.
Writing became a cathartic practice, so I started keeping a journal. Working with Christine and writing made me acknowledge how much loss influenced my relationships. Whatever I was doing to slow down or block connections was always a choice I made. And it was usually a choice made out of fear. A fear of the pain of that loss. Granny was right, of course, and I continued sessions until I got the offer from the NYPD.
-"Christine, I have some news to share... I'm moving. To New York. I just got a new job…" I explained.
-"Oh, congratulations! I'm very happy for you…if that's what you want. Wow, that's great, Andre," she said.
-"Christine…I…Thank you for everything. I'll miss you. Truly." I looked down and then back up to meet her gaze.
-"Thank you, Andre…I'll…miss you too." She smiled but looked disappointed.
I wasn't her patient anymore. I tried to figure out the expression on her face. I couldn't help but wonder if I hadn't met her in this way, if she weren't my therapist…maybe I would have asked her out. But then again, I wouldn't be the man I was now if I didn't meet her like this. She had elicited and illuminated so many of my different emotional responses. She made me see that my hollow vessel could be full, and I had the agency to fill it. She stood up and shook my hand, her palm soft and warm.
-"Good luck, Andre. I wish you the best in New York. I hope you find what you're looking for," she had said, saying goodbye.
Had I been looking for something? Did I find it? I sat at my desk looking through my case paperwork when I saw Oscar from a distance. Her tall slender figure floated across the rowdy squad room, refining the space with her presence. Her beautiful but expressionless face, stoic at whatever was being hollered around her. I tracked her until she seemed to notice my eyes on her, and she gave me a small smile.
I remembered that I shouldn't stare at her so blatantly and looked down. I was trying hard to curb my feelings. Oscar was light and friendly in my company, as if sharing the news about Fersen lifted a huge weight off her. However, that weight had now transferred to me as I tried to keep my emotional distance and not get too physically close.
As if the world knew my desire to shut out any heartfelt connection with Oscar, the primitive part of my brain sometimes got the best of me. I was a man with wants, and her body kept taunting me. I kept bumping into her while exiting the elevator or grabbing a coffee in the kitchen. Both times I got a whiff of the rose and botanical scent of her hair. She would bend over near my desk, picking up a dropped pen or her phone, giving me a full view of her amazing behind. How clumsy was she to keep dropping things near me?!
As soon as I thought I had a handle on myself, something else would happen. When we were discussing cases near the investigative boards, Oscar stood up to remove her sweatshirt in the warm squad room. It caught her t-shirt underneath pulling it up, and I saw her smooth stomach and belly button. Alain smirked when he saw me staring at Oscar. She tossed her sweatshirt on the chair and gathered her hair up into a ponytail. Oscar caught me peering at the exposed skin at her navel and quickly stuffed the shirt into her jeans. I cleared my throat and turned back to Alain who was trying not to laugh while discussing the evidence on a particular drug case.
Trying to clear my head, I listened to Oscar running through the list of our cases and a detail caught my attention. I asked her to summarize the drug cases and their stats. It wasn't unusual but the circumstances around all of them sounded very similar, especially the way they were all handled legally. They were small-time dealer cases with moderate possession amounts, just enough to get prosecuted. I made a mental note to ask Victor about them.
A few days later, on the drive back from the District Attorney's Office, I ruminated on Victor's insight. The dealers in the cases in question didn't have much in common. Some had previous criminal records for dealing or domestic violence, and some were first-time offenders, one was even a student. Some of them had public defenders, and others had hired private lawyers. The drugs in all cases were methamphetamine, all of a high quality. Something in my gut told me they all had the same supplier. But I had no proof. I had to wait for the right opportunity.
-:-:-
The next week Oscar and I planned on getting that drink like we previously said, and I was running late getting back to the precinct. I parked and headed straight to her office.
-"Hey, you ready?"
-"Ready for what?" A deep voice responded. It was Fersen reclining in a chair in Oscar's office. He stood up and stuck out his hand to introduce himself.
-"Hi. Hans Fersen. Francoise's husband." He and I were around the same height.
-"Oh…hello. Andre Grandier," I said slowly, grabbing his hand to shake it.
-"Nice to meet you. You a detective in this precinct?" Fersen started walking around the office, examining and touching things on Oscar's desk.
-"Uh yeah, been working for Oscar for just a few months."
-"A few months huh? …Oscar? Wait, do you—," Fersen looked up at me.
-"Hey sorry, I had to deal with a crisis downstairs…oh Andre!" Oscar strolled in and stopped as soon as she saw that both Fersen and I were both standing in her office. "Hey, uh, did you two meet?"
The awkwardness in the room was palpable but Fersen didn't seem to notice as Oscar officially introduced us again and we went through the motions. She explained that Fersen stopped by impromptu, but she had a last-minute meeting with other department heads added regarding new equipment and body cameras for next year. Which meant that we would have to do beers another time.
-"Well, I just thought I would stop by as I never see my wife nowadays that she's Lieutenant," Fersen tried to grab Oscar's waist, and she brushed him off.
-"I'll see you at home later?" Oscar gave him a quick hug after giving me side eye. "Oh and Andre, we'll reschedule, I promise."
-"Hey Andre, how about we get a beer? Seems we are both free," Fersen asked, raising his eyebrows.
-"Fersen, no, don't make Andre…," Oscar started and looked over at me.
-"It's okay, sure. I'll get a beer…with Hans," I said.
-"Are you sure? You guys are gonna hang out together…? Without me?" Oscar's voice trailed and got higher.
-"Franny, you're busy, so we'll have guys time." Fersen patted me on the back. As much as the idea of "guys time" with Fersen made me feel weird, I had endless curiosity about the man that Oscar tied herself to. Also, Franny? That was an awful nickname for Oscar. It didn't suit her at all.
-"Andre… is that okay? You don't have to…" Oscar looked worried. I smiled and shrugged at her.
-"He'll be fine! Don't worry." Fersen flashed a smile and motioned for us to leave.
As we were walking out, Fersen looked around the squad room.
-"Hey, which one is Alain?" he asked. I looked around and Alain was nowhere to be found.
-"He's not here. Why?" I asked.
-"No reason," Fersen said and we entered the elevator.
At the bar, we sat with our beer and whiskey at the counter.
-"So you've only been here a few months, huh? How do you know 'Oscar'?" Fersen loosened his tie and took off his jacket.
-"What makes you think I know her?"
-"Only her family calls her that," he said.
-"Oh, right… She's Francoise elsewhere… Uh, we met as kids. Spent summers together in the Hamptons. I used to live there," I said.
-"Oh shit, that's you… you're the boy in the photo…" Fersen gestured with his finger at my hair.
-"What photo?" I asked.
-"Francoise has a photo of you two at the beach when you're kids. I never knew who the boy was... So how did you end up here?"
I told Fersen about how I came to move away and then come back. We chatted about our jobs and the city, Fersen listening intently and asking thoughtful questions here and there. I really wanted to not like him, but there was nothing he said or did that bothered me. As I gestured to the bartender to get us another round, I asked Fersen about Washington.
-"So how often do you travel to D.C.?"
-"I'm usually there during the week. I'll try to get back here like every other weekend or so. Francoise and I were recently talking about trying to change up my schedule.
-"I'm sure it's been hard for both of you," I said.
-"What do you mean?" Fersen inquired.
-"Well, I mean, I'm sure it's hard to spend so much time apart with your demanding job and with Oscar still dealing with what happened in Afghanistan…"
-"How do you know about that?" Fersen looked at me inquisitively.
-"She told me," I said.
-"Francoise told you about her war experience? She talked to you?" Fersen looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time.
-"Yeah, why? Is something wrong?"
-"Yeah, I mean, no…Sorry, I'm just surprised she said anything," Fersen said slowly.
-"I know what you mean. Oscar tends to hold things in sometimes. She was like that as a kid too," I stated.
Fersen got quiet and seemed lost in his thoughts. He quickly finished his drink, offered to pay, and politely excused himself. Alone, I grumbled to myself as I could understand why any woman would be interested in him. I tried to find a flaw to make myself feel better and if anything, it was that he gave an impression of being almost too put-together. I wondered what had attracted Oscar to him in the first place.
Oscar and Fersen together seemed right and wrong at the same time. They certainly looked good together. No doubt both their families approved of their union. But to me, Fersen seemed too…conventional for Oscar. She was obviously subject to the standards of her family, but she never cared about that stuff. Oscar needed someone to complement her passionate and fiery nature, someone who would unconditionally support her, but could also reign her in when she got too impulsive. I wondered if Fersen did that for her. Or if she let him.
I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if I hadn't moved away. Would Oscar and I have gotten together or would our close friendship prevent us from going anywhere? I had a teenage crush on her, but I never told her until the night of our kiss. Would I have followed her to military academy? It was unbearable to see her with Fersen now. Could I have endured our adolescent and college years with boys drooling over her? Maybe Oscar only noticed me as a man that first night due to our years apart. A silver lining of our time away from each other.
The next day Oscar pulled me aside and asked if I could meet her at the precinct forensics lab after hours. In a low voice, she said the technician who decoded the security footage and the surveillance device from the Capet home had something to share.
We discovered that miniscule device mounted on the floral arrangement was too mangled to decipher anything, but it was clear that it was an audio recording device. The forensics decoder determined that the footage from the Capet security team had been tampered with an electromagnetic device. The technician was able to encrypt just enough to get a fuzzy picture of a few seconds of video, which didn't show too much. The footage in Louis' study showed two dark figures in masks searching around his desk. It didn't look like a simple burglary case of seeking valuables or money. Oscar said she would follow up with the Capets if they had received any additional threats or if they could think of anyone who might target them.
We kept rolling the tape to see if we would see anything new. The figures were clearly a coordinated team. One had a smaller frame than the other. It was dark and we couldn't see their faces at all. The technician had to leave so he left us with the footage.
Oscar and I were alone in the lab. She was sitting only inches away from me and I felt a charge building as soon as the door closed. I looked over at Oscar's elegant hands as she typed on the keyboard and rewound the tape. She ran the tape on a loop. She leaned her elbow on the desk, supporting her chin, which drew my focus to her lips. Goddamn, I needed to stop doing this to myself. She sat back and then suddenly swiveled her chair to face me.
-"So, how was having beers with Fersen?"
-"Uh, it was fine," I said. "Don't worry, I didn't say anything about us."
-"Oh, I wasn't—" Oscar started to explain.
-"I know. I just wanted you to know…I did tell him how we know each other though. I guess he never knew who that little boy was in the photo," I contemplated.
-"The boy in the photo?" Oscar asked.
-"Apparently, you have a photo of us at the beach."
-"Oh yeah! It's my favorite one of us. It was when we built that sandcastle with the moat. Before we found that… Do you remember?" Oscar stifled a laugh.
-"How I could I forget the moat? It was only the archeological site for the last dinosaur on earth," I said laughing.
The recall of that memory brought up images of us endlessly digging and finding a collection of bones, probably chicken bones that people had discarded while eating on the beach. We pretended we were archeologists on a dig, the sandcastle forgotten and crumbling next to us, as we kept searching for more fossil remnants. My grandma, who was visiting at the time, had captured the moment just before our discovery. I still had that photo lying around somewhere and apparently, Oscar did too.
-"I guess I never told him about you," Oscar said softly. "I didn't know if I would ever see you again…so I didn't know if there a point to it…"
-"It's okay. I didn't tell my husband about you either," I joked with a straight face and Oscar smacked my arm. I feigned being hurt and laughed at her annoyed expression.
-"Do you remember the time capsule?" I asked, leaning back in my chair.
-"Oh my god, the time capsule! I wonder if it's still there," Oscar pondered.
-"It must be. Under that big oak tree, right?"
-"I hardly remember what we put inside," Oscar said.
-"I remember what we put in."
-"What was it?" Oscar looked at me deviously.
-"You don't remember?" I asked.
-"No…maybe I recall one of those spinning tops?" She wondered out loud.
-"Well, if you don't remember, I'm not going to tell you," I said being coy.
-"We'll just have to go dig it up. If only to stop your superiority complex," she said joking.
-"When was the last time you were at the house?" I asked.
-"Oh god, when was it? I think I was there a couple times, just for the day. I think it was when my parents were having their garden parties when I was in high school. But I haven't stayed in the house since you left, like slept there or anything…" Oscar recalled.
-"Really?" I asked. I was surprised to learn that. Oscar loved spending summers at the beach.
-"Yeah. It really didn't feel the same. It was almost weird to be there without you," Oscar explained. It meant a lot to me to hear her say that.
-"Wow, so many memories in that house. I would love to see it again."
-"We should go sometime," Oscar suggested, and though I wished we could, I knew that it probably wouldn't happen.
We still had the footage up on the screen when the door opened and Nicholas sauntered in.
-"Motte, what are you looking for?" Oscar's voice changed back to her authoritarian tone.
-"Oh, just seeing if I left some lab paperwork in here," he said. "Didn't know anyone was still here."
-"We're finishing up now. Can you give us a minute? You don't have clearance for this," Oscar stated frankly.
-"Sure, boss," he smirked and left the lab.
Nicholas Motte, the newest detective to join our precinct, was transferred by one of the police chiefs in Brooklyn. He was scrappy with street smarts but was lacking in proper protocol and investigative training.
Oscar shut down our lab session. As we left the precinct and headed outside, I noticed myself stalling. When the night air hit my face, I thought Oscar might be feeling jittery. She had just quit smoking and I knew she was craving. I handed her a stick of gum and she took it with gratitude.
-"What are you, a mind reader?" she asked sarcastically as she unwrapped the gum and popped it into her mouth.
-"I just know you…" I shrugged. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow. I'm going over here…"
-"Wait, Andre…, about what I said before. I didn't mean that you weren't important enough to share with Fersen. You should know that I never forgot you, not even for one second…seriously. You were always there in my mind, and somehow it felt good to keep you close to my heart… like there was a secret only you and I had. Even when I was in Afghanistan…you have no idea how much…how much I wanted to see you. When I was delusional, I actually thought you were going to save me, I remembered that…"
As much as I loved to hear her say these words, it was also painful. She would never be mine in the way I wanted. I had to settle for always being her "friend." Was this the reason I came back to New York? To reconnect with my past without knowing I would run into her again? Did she become my dream before I even saw her? We said good night and I watched as she turned to walk toward the subway station, away from me.
-:-:-
I knew that Oscar was married. I knew she thought of me as her friend. But sometimes she made me doubt that it the only way she saw me. Which was hard to reckon with. Oscar did kiss me back that one time, and she did move closer when we fell asleep on my couch. She also had clear flare-ups of jealousy, especially when women paid me attention. It was kinda cute, even though it didn't change anything.
One day, arriving back at the precinct after a day in the field, I checked in with Oscar in her office when I saw a familiar face with huge brown eyes in the squad room. I called out her name and she turned with a delighted smile and ran over.
-"Andre!"
-"Diane, what are you doing here?" I asked, giving her a hug. Oscar had a look of steel settled on her face.
-"I was looking for Alain but I'm so glad I ran into you. Hello, I'm Diane Soissons, Alain's sister," Diane introduced herself to Oscar.
-"Ah, you're the famous Diane! Nice to meet you. I'm Francoise," Oscar greeted her and seemed to take on a more cheerful persona.
-"Oh! You're Francoise…I've heard so much about you…from Alain."
-"I hope only good things." Oscar smiled.
-"Diane, do you want some coffee?" I asked.
-"Oh no, I can't stay, I have to get home to Mom. I was done with my shift at the gallery and decided to go for a walk and I sort of ending up around here… Andre, it's great to see you…" Diane blushed a little.
I walked Diane out and she shyly mentioned that I should stop by the art gallery sometime. Where she worked was not too far from where I lived, so I said that I would, but only if she gave me a tour of the artwork.
When I came back to the squad room, Oscar was sitting at my desk, slouched and swiveling in my chair.
-"She has a thing for you, Andre."
-"Who? Diane? What, I don't think so."
-"She definitely does," Oscar insisted.
-"Well, even if she likes me, she's Alain's sister…," I said.
-"Would it make a difference if she wasn't?" Oscar interrogated.
-"I don't know. I haven't thought about it… Why? Does it bother you?" She had no reason to be jealous.
-"No, I don't care. Whatever. You can date whoever you want." Oscar leapt up, causing the chair roll away several feet and went to her office.
Oscar was grouchy all day. A lot of the squad detectives would avoid her when she got in one of her moods. As the sun set, Alain suddenly slammed down the phone and grabbed his jacket.
-"Andre, let's go. You know the student kid that got caught dealing a few weeks ago? His mom just called, and she overheard him saying he's going on a drop in an hour. She got the location."
-"On it. Do we need backup?"
-"Maybe on standby," he grabbed his jacket and activated the communication channels and devices.
-"I'm coming too. I need a break." Oscar heard the whole thing and came out of her office. I smiled to myself hearing that Oscar saw potentially dangerous field work as a "break."
-"Fine, let's go."
In the car on the way to the Hunts Point address in the Bronx, we developed our reconnaissance plan. They would drop me off at a potential look out point, as the field agent, and use our in-ear device to communicate. Oscar and Alain would be the eyes on the house to see if anyone approached.
I settled into my scene with small, portable binoculars from the rooftop of an adjacent building. It was dark already and no one was out on the street. This was one of the more underserved neighborhoods in the city, mostly industrial warehouses and loading docks interspersed with boxy apartment buildings and brownstones. A dim street lamp flickered as I spotted Oscar and Alain's vehicle as they slowly approached and parked in the back alley of the identified brownstone building.
After 20 minutes, a car pulled up and two men got out. They descended the entry stairs to the basement and looked behind them before entering and closing the door shut. I recognized their faces from their mug shots.
-"Oh shit, Andre. It's those guys." I heard Alain in my ear. The two men who just entered the house were two of the dealers previously caught. One of them was the student. This was obviously a larger drug network and we had more work to do.
But we couldn't take any action tonight. Now aware of this location, we needed Victor's help in securing warrants for further information. While Oscar asked me to remain on standby, I spotted a girl walking down the alley. A skinny, petite blonde girl who looked like she was in her twenties was scantily clad in a short dress with a faux fur jacket. She walked down the stairs, paused, and then came back up. She paused again with her eyes closed and then proceeded to leave the premise with large purposeful steps.
-"Hold on, I have an idea. I'm gonna try something." I heard Oscar in my ear. And before I knew what happened, Oscar got out of the car, restrained the girl, putting a hand around her mouth, and pushed her inside the backseat of the car.
-"Alain, drive!"
-"Oscar, what the fuck! What are you doing?" I hissed as I heard Alain interject the same profanities.
-"Andre, keep an eye out," Oscar said as their car drove away. I could hear the girl hollering in the background.
-"Oscar, do you know what you're jeopardizing?!" I whispered before I ran to the other side of the roof to descend the fire stairs. I had to make sure that no one on the street just saw this happen. It was so like her to do this. Take a huge risk for an uncertain payoff, but I had to trust her. I listened to their conversation in the background.
-"Hey, hey, you're safe. We're with the NYPD. You're not in any trouble, but I need your help. Can you help me? Can you take a deep breath?"
-"I wasn't doing anything! It was just my first time and I wasn't even going to—"
-"Whoa, whoa, whoa, it's okay. What's your name?"
-"…Rosalie…"
-"Hi Rosalie. I'm Francoise. Don't worry, everything's going to be okay. But we do need to ask you some questions, Rosalie. Can you please answer some questions for us?"
-"…Okay…I don't know anything though…"
-"That's okay, can you tell us anything about who's inside that building? Who were you meeting?"
Oscar tried to get her to keep talking. I heard Alain call for backup on standby just in case. Apparently, Rosalie was supposed to ask for someone named Sal when she got to the house. So three men inside, potentially with drugs and weapons. Prostitution and human trafficking was also part of the picture.
With one ear listening to Oscar and Rosalie, I turned back to the alley to see a man with a mustache and stocky build walking toward the building. He and I made eye contact. Suddenly, the look in his eye made me realize that something was wrong and my body tensed up.
-"Fuck, I've been made," I said as I saw him pulling a gun out of his jacket as I sprinted for cover. I heard gunshots behind me and felt a white-hot pain on my leg. I retreated behind a telephone pole and utility box until the shots died down. I was trapped in this alley; I had to get out. I peeked to see where he went and took the quiet opportunity to start running towards the street. I heard sirens in the distance and a nearby engine roaring to life.
The asshole had shot my leg. Blood soaked my pant and the pain intensified, making me lose my footing and fall down. I turned my head to see the shooter in a Cadillac accelerating towards me. Summoning all of my energy, I hurdled my body onto the hood of the car before he could run me over. The impact shocked him into slamming on the brakes and I hung on as best as I could.
-"Andre, noo!" I heard Oscar yelling in the background. They were back.
The shooter immediately ran out of the car but was entrapped as two patrol cars screeched toward us to point their weapons at him, commanding him to get down. It was over.
I felt the blood pumping in my head, my senses disoriented, and a sharp pain at my side brought be back to reality. I saw Oscar's frantic face as I climbed off the car to tumble onto the ground. She took off her jacket to press it to my bleeding thigh. She was sweaty and looked panicked as she tried to make me lie down more comfortably, supporting my head. It hurt like hell but seeing her lessened the pain.
-"Andre, this is my fault, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have left you!"
-"Come on, you didn't know this would happen. I'm fine. Look, I'm almost better," I slurred as I tried to sit up. I winced at the pain as Oscar leaned me back against her kneeling legs.
-"Don't move and just breathe! I'm here." She put more pressure on my wound and then she looked at me. I focused on her deep blue eyes.
As the other officers apprehended the shooter and the other two dealers who had tried to run away during the commotion, the paramedics arrived. Oscar, by her decision, gave the officers permission to search the building. The paramedics said that I needed to go to the hospital to remove the lodged bullet, and they also suspected that I broke a rib. Oscar stayed until they shut the doors on the ambulance. She looked so worried that I gave her a thumbs up.
At the hospital, they rushed me to trauma surgery. Luckily, the bullet wasn't as deep as the paramedics thought, nor the damage to the soft tissue extensive. X-rays showed that I had broken two ribs. All in all, I was lucky it wasn't more serious. As soon as I was settled in my room for the night, Oscar ran in, demanding information from the doctor. She looked relieved after getting an update on my health, and then she sat down to explain events of the aftermath.
-"Andre, it's a fucking mess. Following a simple lead but now a shooting, a raid with no warrant? It might be televised on the news. My dad is going to flip out..." Oscar furrowed her brow.
Sal or Salvatore Guemene. The guy who shot me. He had ten pounds of meth stashed at the house, in addition to $100k in cash. Certainly, an investigation with him on the hook would be huge for the precinct.
-"What about the girl?" I asked.
-"The cutest little prostitute I've ever seen? So, here's the deal with her…" Oscar started.
It wasn't Rosalie Lamoliere's first time as a sex worker. She was known to be affiliated with the Valerie Girls, a high-end escort service. The question was why she was meeting with Sal on a dark street in the Bronx when she was making money from wealthy men in clubs. It had also looked like she was hesitating or debating something at the brownstone. Oscar didn't pursue an arrest but would follow up.
After reporting in on my account of the shooting and getting psychological evaluation, Oscar put me on leave for two months. I protested but it was protocol. I started to worry about how I was going to fill my time.
Oscar brought me home from the hospital after I was discharged. She made sure I was comfortable and had everything I needed, putting out my pain medication with instructions on the kitchen counter and getting me a glass of water. She went downstairs to the bodega and brought back two paper bags filled with fruit, milk, eggs, salami, and bread. When she started to put the groceries away, I realized that the last time she was here was when we fell asleep together. My mood soured when I recalled back to that moment when I still didn't know she was married.
Just like the previous time I had been on medical leave, without anything to do, I settled myself back into a comfortable depression on the couch. I occasionally had nightmares, where I would hear gunshots but couldn't move, with Oscar screaming in the distance. Alain stopped by a couple times, bringing pizza and beer. He grumbled at the fact that I didn't have a TV. Oscar also stopped by after work every now and then. It was almost painful to have her inside my apartment. My safe sanctuary kept being sullied by her presence. The only way it wouldn't feel sullied was if she decided to stay forever, which was what I wanted.
The only other person who stopped by was Diane, who brought me soup, snacks, books and DVDs. It was so sweet of her, but it made me feel worse. I had been brooding about Oscar when her buzzer at the entry distracted me. I felt gross to be on the receiving end of the affections of a sweet girl like Diane.
When Oscar invited me over for dinner at her apartment with Fersen, I hesitated. Did I really want to spend an evening with the happy couple? She insisted saying that it was actually Fersen's idea. I didn't tell her that I couldn't care less what her husband wanted. I didn't want to see him. I didn't need to learn more about their relationship. I had enough lingering in my imagination to burn my brain. But as an invalid with no plans and no work schedule, my manners got the best of me, and I accepted the invitation when she asked for the second time.
I arrived at their building, the entry embellished with a grand awning. A doorman greeted me and asked if I was a visitor. He called up to Oscar's apartment and guided me to the elevator, pushing the button for the penthouse. The door opened and Oscar appeared. She was barefoot and wearing a tank top and loose pants. She could make anything look elegant. She helped me inside and I handed her the bag I was carrying.
-"Look, Andre brought wine!" Oscar set it down on the counter and opened a cupboard to grab glasses.
-"Thanks Andre. Oh, a Pinot…it won't go with dinner, but I supposed we can drink it now," Fersen said seeing that Oscar was already opening the bottle with the corkscrew.
-"I'll give you a tour," Oscar gestured to me as she handed me a full wine glass and I followed her out of the kitchen.
Their apartment was huge with floor length windows with seamless access to their garden terrace. From their garden on the rooftop, you could look out to the adjacent buildings and down to the street. All the furnishings and appliances were tasteful and luxurious. Everything was what I would expect from the Jarjayes family, but I wondered if this was Fersen's apartment that Oscar moved into when they got married. Oscar never paid much attention to material objects, but she was always surrounded by refined goods. As a kid, she acted as if she could be happy living in a concrete box. She was always comfortable with me and my parents in our small humble home in Mastic Beach, as opposed to her family mansion in Southampton. I realized that I never really knew what her taste was; everything was always set up for her. I clenched my jaw as I thought about her and Fersen picking out furniture together.
A framed photo caught my eye on their sideboard in the living room. It was their wedding photo, a candid shot of them arm-in-arm looking at each other with City Hall in the background. Oscar looked amazing in a white suit. It was so her. My heart panged at seeing their happy expressions directed at each other, but there was a piece of me that felt joy at seeing her so carefree. I must have been staring at it for a while because I heard Oscar calling to me and then felt her presence at my side. She saw the photo I was looking at, opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out.
I found the photo of us at the beach. My big 8-year-old smile, with a tooth missing, and Oscar's skinny little arms around me. It sat on an end table in a small, forgotten corner of their apartment next to an old armchair. I sighed as the location seemed fitting.
I was quiet throughout the evening. Being in their home, seeing their bedroom, bathroom and closet with their intermingled items, was suffocating. Each look between Fersen and Oscar during dinner sent stabbing sensations in my chest. Fersen was gracious and served us throughout the meal; he had cooked everything. It wasn't my business, but I hated the thought of him being unfaithful to Oscar. But I couldn't be so hypocritical as someone who had kissed her with limitless passion. Where was that person now? That Andre would have grabbed Oscar and forced her to run away with him. I wasn't that Andre anymore; I was reduced to silently remaining by her side enduring everything for the simple pleasure of being able to look upon her, listen to her, be with her, however was allowed.
A deep sadness filled my heart as I made excuses to leave. I cited my injuries and a need to rest, though I could have run marathons away from this place, their lovely marital home. Anything to stop the dull ache in my heart.
Oscar walked me out. I wished she didn't. She stayed with me downstairs while the doorman hailed me a cab, giving me a hug and a kiss on the cheek once it arrived. It was like a consolation prize, a pat on the head, like I was her trusty sidekick, her little pet. I was relieved to be alone with my thoughts in the cab. I looked behind me in the rear window to see Oscar getting smaller in the horizon, out of my view and out of my reach.
-:-:-
A week went by. Settled into my typical schedule of sleeping, awakening, staring at the ceiling, exercising at physical therapy, and drinking copious amounts of alcohol, I got a call from Alain that broke me out of my stupor.
-"Andre, I need your help."
-"What happened?" I asked.
-"So you know the Guemene case? He was released," Alain stated.
-"What?! What about all the evidence? He tried to kill me!" I sat up from the couch. There was no way his guy would have gotten off with all the eyewitnesses and items found at the scene.
-"There's something else going on. Someone pulled strings. You know his lawyer was from that bigshot firm? Pierce and Trumbull?"
-"What the fuck happened?"
-"That's what I'm trying to find out. If there's something we don't know… or some corrupt bullshit going on…"
-"What's your plan?" I asked.
Alain had been following Guemene for the past week and he was even able to put a tracking device on the bottom of his car. He had thought the car was a dud because it sat for three days, but then it started moving and visited the same location twice, a warehouse in New Jersey. I said I was in. When Alain picked me up in one of the undercover cars, I was surprised to see Oscar sitting in the passenger seat.
-"Now I get it. This was Oscar's idea, wasn't it?" I said getting in the back seat.
-"What do you think?" Alain huffed.
-"Alain, I told you not to tell Andre," Oscar growled. I felt a twinge as she said this.
-"He deserves to be a part of this," Alain said as he pulled away.
We needed a safe location where we could check and analyze the tracking device and record the route of Guemene's car and ours from Oscar's laptop, so Alain got a cheap motel room near a gas station and a dingy-looking bar.
-"Oscar, is it okay that we're doing this?" I asked as she set up her laptop and the digital tower for a remote signal to scramble our location and internet access.
-"We need to see this through. It's insane that he was released. Did you see all those drugs he had? A girl almost got trafficked." She stopped and turned toward me. "He tried to kill you; I can't let that go," she said in a softer tone. "But you're not here, okay? You're still technically on leave. I'll take the fall if anything happens."
-"I'm not gonna let anything happen to you," I said gently. Oscar seemed different. She was determined but also seemed like she was carrying a heavy weight on her shoulders.
We headed to the industrial district and found a dark, nondescript location to keep our eyes on the warehouse and loading dock for anything and anyone. Contrarily to how it looked on television, stakeouts were generally boring. There was a low chance that anything would happen; we all knew this was a shot in the dark. Alain and Oscar were in the front of the car and I sat in the back.
-"So, Andre, I heard Diane was at the precinct," Alain broke the silence after we had been sitting for an hour.
-"Yeah, she came looking for you." I glanced over at Oscar to see if she reacted.
-"She's been asking about you."
-"…Uh, okay…," I said.
-"I think she likes you," Alain responded.
-"Alain, we don't need to get into this…" I quickly looked over at Oscar again, but her expression showed nothing. But I still didn't want her to hear this.
-"Let her down easy…okay?"
-"I don't need to let her down, nothing's going on," I insisted.
-"Don't fucking hurt her," he said abruptly.
-"Alain, calm down, that was literally the second time I've ever seen Diane." I didn't want to stoke the fire by mentioning that she came by my apartment with a care package.
-"Shut up for a second…Look…" Oscar oriented our attention back to the street.
A sedan pulled up. Not the one we were tracking. But a tall figure exited the car and walked hesitantly toward the loading dock. It looked like he was looking for something. He turned, looking left and right on the street. Stepping into the illumination under the street lamp, we saw his face.
-"Andre, he looks like you…" Oscar said out loud what we were all thinking. This guy looked about my height and build and he had a similar hairstyle as me, chin-length dark hair that fell around his face. Who was this guy and why was he here? It looked like he was scoping out the place. Alain took a picture of him on his phone and got his license plate before he drove off.
We didn't see anything else for the next several hours. We decided to call it a night and went back to the motel to check the tracking device on the satellite map. It hadn't moved from its previous location. Alain became frustrated and left the room.
-"Damn, we got nothing tonight," I stated the obvious, heading for the bathroom sink to get some water for my pain meds.
-"Except that guy…he really looked like you, at least from a distance," Oscar replied.
-"We'll find him," I said determined, sitting back down on the bed next to Oscar. She laid back and massaged her temples, her hair spreading out in a large fan. "Oscar? You okay?"
-"…Yeah, I'm fine. Come on, let's go find Alain."
Alain was nowhere to be found. He was the driver so he had the keys. Finally, Oscar knew where to look and gestured toward the bar.
-"Alain, come on, let's go."
-"Hold on, the bartender has seen that guy before. He's been in here," Alain said as he brandished the photo he took.
-"Who is he?" Oscar asked.
-"He doesn't know but he said she's talked to him." Alain pointed at a woman with a voluptuous figure in the corner with two other men. "Let me do my thing." Alain grabbed his beer and headed in her direction.
-"Okay, fine. Then I'm getting a drink," Oscar said as she situated herself on the barstool.
We watched Alain from a distance as he started to play pool with the group, sidling up to make conversation with the woman. This was going to take a while. Oscar was quiet as she nursed her whiskey. Sitting in silence, I sensed a sadness emanating from her. I peeked at her profile from the corner of my eye. She was staring at the counter, her shoulders slumped. She was still wearing her puffy jacket, the crinkled collar of her shirt peeking out. How I would have loved to bring my hand to fix her collar and brush her hair behind her ear. I wanted to take away every sad feeling she had.
Oscar finished her drink and got up from her stool, saying she wanted to lay down for a minute at the motel. When I said I would go with her, she asked me to stay to keep an eye on Alain. Thirty minutes passed and Alain approached me.
-"Hey, I'll be right back, I'm almost there," Alain said winking at me.
-"Where are you going? Alain, come on, this is taking too long. Is this worth it?" I asked.
-"It will be. Did you see her? It'll be 15 minutes, 30 minutes max, I promise," he said as he walked away from me. The woman was waiting for him by the door, and I was starting to doubt that Alain still saw her purely as a source of information. He clearly wanted something else from her. Sighing, I told him to meet us at the car when he was done.
I wanted to go home. My mind was started to get fuzzy as I finished my drink. I stood up and realized I was more affected than I thought. There was definitely a lag in my motor function. It probably wasn't a good idea to take my medication on an empty stomach and then start drinking.
I paid the bill and went back to the motel. It was dark as I stumbled into the room, the light from the parking lot filtering in, but I saw Oscar's outline sitting on the bed.
-"Oscar, what are you doing in the dark? I'm gonna turn on the light…"
-"No, don't! Just come and sit here, Andre."
-"What's wrong? Something's up. You've been weird all night…" I said as I sat sloppily on the bed.
-"…It's nothing…you don't need to hear about it…"
-"Is everything okay with you and Fersen?" I asked. I felt sick as I recalled their wedding photo. "Did you have a fight?"
-"Andre…don't…"
-"You really love him, don't you? I can't believe you're still with him…he's a cheater…you said it yourself..." Oscar looked away from me. "Oscar, why are you with him? You can do so much better…" I couldn't stop myself once I started. My mouth was moving faster than my brain. Jealously reared its ugly head upon me and I heard myself talking shit about Fersen.
-"Andre…stop it…" I turned to grab Oscar's arm. "Andre, l-let go."
-"No, talk to me," I begged.
-"Andre, stop it. Let go of me!"
-"No! Oscar, are you scared of me? You think I'm gonna hurt you?" I pulled her arm so that she would face me and she resisted. "You don't know anything! You're the one hurting me every day! You can kill me with a look. I can't breathe when I'm around you! Can't you see that I'm in love with you!?"
Her blue eyes widened as I grabbed her face and kissed her with everything I had. Her lips didn't move as I sought her further. I broke the kiss to hug her tightly against my chest.
-"Oscar, it's torture for me every time I see you. When I'm around you… whenever I see you…it's like my heart is about to explode. Oscar, don't move, please! Listen!" Oscar seemed frozen in place. "You make me crazy. I've never felt this way about anyone. Believe me, I'll do anything for you. I'll do anything to be with you." The smell of her was making me dizzy. I felt the soft skin on her neck.
-"Andre, stop…please!" Oscar begged, but I couldn't hear it. I pushed her down on the bed.
-"I love you so much," I whispered against her ear. I couldn't stop telling her that I loved her. I didn't want to let her go. I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience and watching myself do the unthinkable. This seemed so wrong but I couldn't stop myself. I caressed her hair and kissed down her neck.
-"Andre, nooo! Stop!" Oscar resisted, trying to get her arms out of my embrace. "Let go! I'll scream!"
-"I love you!" I said shaking her.
-"Nooo!" Oscar cried out, jerking away from me. I tightened my grip on her shirt, pulling it as the collar ripped and buttons popped off to reveal her bra. The sound broke me out of my daze and I froze, realizing what I've done. I let go of Oscar as she started crying, turning her face as the tears streamed onto the bed. "What are you…going to do to me now, Andre?"
I was horrified. I sat up and fumbled for Oscar's jacket, covering her up. There was nothing I could do or say to take this back. I stood up and stepped away from the bed, bowing my head to beg for forgiveness.
-"I'm so sorry… I'll never do this again as long as I live, I swear to God. But you're the only person… you're the only one… I love you. No, I can't help but love you… but I know you don't feel the same…" I trailed off as Oscar kept crying softly into the bed. I wanted to comfort her. But I couldn't. I had lost that privilege as soon as I grabbed her against her will.
I felt stone-cold sober as I walked out of the room and closed the door. I couldn't believe what I had just done. I majorly fucked up. Who was that insane man? He was unrecognizable to me. I felt tears welling up in my eyes as I plopped down on a curb. I said I would never let anyone hurt Oscar and here I was, the monster who had done it himself. I was crazy about her, but this was all wrong. I was all wrong. This couldn't go on. I had to change and I needed help to do it.
Notes:
Andre is baaaack! And he done fucked up haha. I was super shocked when I first read the Incident scene in the manga. It was so extreme and violent towards Oscar, but it served to show the depth of Andre's desperation. At this point, he already lost sight in one eye and is potentially going fully blind, so his stress levels are probably at an all-time high. Plus he knows that Oscar is in love/despair because of Fersen. I hope I illustrated Andre's distress enough in this modern retelling. I really wanted to do it without taking away his eyesight or giving him any permanent injuries. :)
We found out more about Andre's prior journey with his struggles and getting help. Good job Andre! Even though I love his love for Oscar, I found him super codependent in the canon and I want to see him on a path to becoming more whole, just as himself.
I had fun writing the interactions between Andre and Fersen! I always thought Andre had such a big heart for legitimately enjoying Fersen's company even though he knew that Oscar loved him.
This was one of the harder chapters I wrote, as I'm trying to move along the police/crime aspects of the story. Please forgive some of the clunky police procedurals and action sequences if they don't make sense. I'm mostly using my knowledge of watching many hours of Law and Order lol. If you're a crime/mystery buff, this probably isn't the best story haha. Although I don't think that's why people are reading this lol…
We met some "new" characters in this chapter! You'll see how they fit in… (I hope I can do it haha.) I'm noticing that each new chapter gets longer. Is it getting too long? Let me know.
Thank you for reading! And as always, I look forward to seeing your thoughts and ideas! Love and hugs.
