Part 7.1 – First Phone Call
The pale pre-dawn morning light filtered through the blinds as Perry opened his eyes and slowly stretched his long frame carefully so as not to disturb Della. She was curled on her left side, facing him, one hand possessively clutching his arm. He smiled and trailed a finger across her collar bone. He had been worried about their strenuous activities the night before having a detrimental effect on Della's recovery, but his concern was quickly put to rest by the lovely woman sleeping peacefully beside him. She hadn't coughed at all, and her breathing seemed to be affected only by her desire for him, which had turned out to be prodigious. Truth be told, he couldn't get enough of her, either, and if it hadn't been for the car horn sounding outside at nearly eleven o'clock, Alice and Mae would surely have caught them in flagrante delicto and his hard-won truce with Alice would have collapsed. As it was, he barely had time to snatch his clothes from the floor and high-tail it down the stairs to the den, where he hastily donned his boxers and t-shirt, and made his way to the front room wrapped in a blanket to greet the two women, pretending he had been asleep downstairs. He got the impression Alice was suspicious of his sleepy greeting and he knew Mae didn't believe for one minute he had been in the den all night, but he had to make a good show of it on principle.
He bade them good night and disappeared into the den, lying tensely awake on the leather couch listening for them to settle down so he could sneak back up and say a proper good night to Della. At twelve-fifteen he finally decided they were probably asleep and tip-toed back up the stairs, slid back under the covers with Della, and pulled her into his arms, intending to spend only a few moments on a thorough good-night kiss. But she was so soft and warm, and her sighs of contentment only spurred his lips to rove over her hungrily, and before he knew it she was atop him, those impossibly long slender legs straddling his hips, the rhythmic movements of her body bringing him more pleasure than he had a right to experience. She was silent and smiling as she watched him struggle to maintain his own silence and when she had led him to the brink, when he thought he might give a mighty Tarzan yell that would bring Mae and Alice stampeding into the room, she leaned forward and kissed him. He raked his hands through her hair and held her face to his as she nudged him over the edge, gasps and sighs and cries held to urgent whispers of simultaneous, glorious release.
Afterwards, he couldn't bring himself to leave her alone in their bed and go downstairs to the den. He had spent too many sleepless nights on the couch out of respect for Della's mother, longing to be holding Della in his arms, and now that he was finally doing just that, he wasn't about to let her go. Part of the tenseness between them was Della's dissatisfaction with his physical distance, having wrongfully convinced herself he was angry with her or repulsed by her. He should have asserted himself more in her care since Alice arrived, but for the sake of congeniality had chosen to remain in the background, often deferring to her will, which left Della frustrated and annoyed.
No, he wasn't going to leave her alone, not after her spectacularly successful seduction. So he had stayed, setting his mental alarm clock for some time between four and five so he could sneak downstairs ahead of Alice and Mae, and they would find him uncomfortably dozing on the couch in the den. Or maybe he would listen for them moving around and put the coffee on to perk. That might even get Della downstairs before them and they could cuddle under the blanket on the couch. Surely Alice couldn't object to that, especially if he dressed first.
Della stirred beside him, murmuring something unintelligible and he caressed her face tenderly. "Shhh, baby. It's very early in the morning. Go back to sleep. I have to leave now so your mother and Mae don't have a fit."
Della's hand tightened its hold on his arm. "Noooo," she sighed. "Stay…love you."
"Baby, you have to let go of my arm. We can't –" he broke off when the phone rang. Damn! Who the hell would be calling at this hour of the morning? Della lifted her head and blinked sleepily as he put on his shorts and t-shirt and hit the floor running.
Slightly breathless from the run downstairs to the den where the one telephone had been installed, Perry grabbed the phone on the eighth ring. "Mason," he barked. "This better be damn good to call before five o'clock in the morning."
"Perry? Thank God you're there." Paul Drake's voice, thin and weary, came over the wire.
"Paul…what's wrong?" The hair at the back of Perry's neck stood at attention. Paul wouldn't call unless it was just short of a life and death emergency.
"I'm sorry to call you so early in the morning, but I didn't know what else to do. There's been a development in an old case. I hate like hell to ask this, but could you come back to L.A.?"
Perry rubbed a hand over his face. 'There's been a development in an old case' was code for a very serious situation indeed. He didn't want to leave Della, not now, not after the tension between them had been relieved to a degree, but by invoking the development code, Paul had let him know immediately circumstances were dire. "Let's have it, Paul. What's the problem?"
"The first problem is that I've been arrested. This is my one phone call. I'd rather not go into details over the phone exactly why I was arrested because there are entirely too many cops hanging around, including Tragg."
"Tragg?" Perry's antennae went up. "What the hell have you gotten yourself into, man?"
"Just…can you come back to L.A. and get me out of here? I didn't want to call you last night when they arrested me because of Della –"
"Good grief, Paul, you spent the night in jail?" Perry interrupted, wanting to feel guilty but only mustering a bit of annoyance. He sighed resignedly. "Don't worry. I'll be there as soon as I can, buddy. Sit tight." He hung up the phone and made his way slowly upstairs. With an eye to the doors of the spare rooms, he quietly opened the door to his and Della's room, expecting her to be asleep. Instead, he was greeted by her questioning stare and quiet voice.
"Who was that on the phone?"
Perry sat down on the bed and pulled her into his arms. She melted into him with a sleepy yawn. "Why are you up? I told you to go back to sleep."
"How could I sleep with the phone ringing at four-forty-five in the blessed a.m.? I'll ask again: who was it?"
"It was Paul. Apparently there's been a development in an old case."
"Oh," she said in dismay at the code. "Is it terribly serious?"
"I don't know. He didn't want to talk about it on the phone because he was calling from the Los Angeles County Jail."
"Oh!" she exclaimed in even greater dismay. "You're going back to L.A., of course."
He pulled away just enough to look into her eyes, no longer sleepy, but bright and alert in the half-light of pre-dawn. "I don't want to leave you. I'll call Alex Newman. Paul knows him and I'm sure he'd understand if I didn't get him out of jail personally. I just don't know if I can go away right now."
Della extricated herself from his arms and sat back on her haunches. "You will do no such thing," she scolded him indignantly. "This is Paul we're talking about, your best friend, the man who would go to the gas chamber for you. There is no option but to go back to L.A."
"But honey –"
"Don't 'but honey' me," she told him, firmly planting hands on her hips. "If I thought you or Mom would allow it, I'd be dressed right now and headed out the door with you. You're going to L.A. and get Paul out of jail."
"Della –"
She pushed him off the bed, then reached for his hand and kissed it. "You go take a shower, darling, and I'll set out some clothes for you. Do you want me to pack anything?"
He leaned over and placed both hands on the mattress on either side of her, his face scant inches from her face. "How can I leave you after only three days out of the hospital?"
She swayed forward a bit and gave him a lingering kiss. "You can leave because I said so, and because Paul needs you more right now."
He felt a twinge of sadness. This is what he had been passively fighting against, what had been bothering him, what had driven him to resist giving up her care entirely to Alice and Mae. He needed her to need him, and the fact that she was literally shoving him out the door made him feel worthless to her. He knew it was silly to feel that way, and he couldn't be small and selfish where her mother was concerned.
Perry took a quick shower and dressed hurriedly in the best clothes he had brought, clothes that Mae had laundered and pressed just the day before. Della had laughed at her aunt's efforts to get a 'knife-like' crease in every pair of the lawyer's trousers, claiming that dry cleaning establishments had been invented to relieve women of such drudgery, but Mae had simply shooed her from the kitchen to take a nap.
Della had climbed back into bed after laying out Perry's clothes and watched him in silence with wide eyes, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around them, chin resting on her knees. "I don't suppose you're going to let me walk you out to the car to say goodbye," she said.
"Absolutely not," he replied, beginning to button his shirt. "It's gotten cold and damp again and I'm not going to let you do anything that will compromise the quick recovery you're making. I'm going to tuck you into bed, kiss you gently so you'll fall back asleep and have very pleasant dreams about last night. With a little luck, I'll be back before you can even miss me."
"I miss you already," she pouted. "I've missed you for days."
He turned his back on her momentarily, eyes looking Heavenward for guidance in dealing with her at this particular moment, and wondering if this mood would last beyond her recuperation. "Darling, you are the one telling me I have to go," he reminded her patiently.
"You do have to go. But let me wallow in a bit of self-pity that you're leaving me alone with an army of mother hens."
He grinned and came to stand in front of her sitting on the bed. "I thought you considered me one of those mother hens."
She got up on her knees and draped her arms over his shoulders. "No, you've just been bossy, telling me what I can and cannot do."
"I thought we decided I was the boss."
She tried to resist his grin but couldn't. "We decided no such thing. We might have to compromise and take turns being the boss. Or maybe you can be the boss here, and I'll remain the boss in the office."
He chuckled and kissed her on her nose. "Lie down, Miss Street."
"See? Just flat out bossy." She allowed him to help her climb beneath the covers and lay still while he tucked the quilt securely around her.
"Snug as a bug," he said with satisfaction.
"Oh God, you've spent entirely too much time with my mother."
Leaning over her, he kissed her with a lingering, soft sensuality. "Try not to give your mother and your aunt as much trouble as you give me, baby."
"You love it," she accused.
He kissed her again, longer. "If I find out you didn't behave for them I won't bring you a present," he warned.
Her eyes grew soft and misty. "I don't need a present. All I need is you," she whispered. "Go help Paul and come home as quickly as possible. Don't forget I love you."
"I never could never forget that, Della. It's what keeps me going."
He kissed her one last time, and then left the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him. Della strained to hear his footsteps as he descended the stairs and closed the front door behind him. She hadn't exaggerated – she had begun missing him from the moment she insisted he go rescue Paul from whatever mess he had gotten himself into. Paul was too important to both of them to ignore, but nevertheless she had a selfish wish Perry didn't have to leave her when she was still sick. She wouldn't admit it to anyone except maybe Kathy, but she did get tired in the afternoon, and she didn't want to eat when and how much everyone wanted her to. Her chest hurt, and she was shocked at her own thinness. She could still plainly see and feel her hipbones through her clothing, and those ridiculous dungarees Perry liked so much literally fell off of her.
She rolled onto her side, closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep. But after only a few minutes she knew she wouldn't be able to. Her thoughts were occupied with other things: about the lovely, romantic dinner she and Perry had shared the night before, their wondrous, delirious lovemaking that had almost – almost – alleviated the tension between them, Perry's whispered words of devotion and love that had made her cry with unbelievable happiness. She rolled onto her other side, sighed, flung back the covers, and got out of bed. Her robe had fallen to the floor sometime in the night and she smiled as she picked it up, wrapped herself in it and belted it around her shrunken waist.
She made her way leisurely down the stairs to the kitchen to start the first pot of coffee for the day. They were going through several pots daily and she realized with a pang that with Perry gone the rate of consumption would decrease. Opening the cabinet next to the stove, she was about to reach for the coffee can when she felt a strong arm snake around her. Gasping in surprise, she tipped the coffee can over and it landed on the counter with a metallic clatter, the lid popping off, fragrant grounds spilling over the countertop and onto the floor. She whirled and came face-to-face with Perry, his face, shirt, trousers, and hands covered with dirt and grime.
"Perry!' she exclaimed, suppressing a cough attack. "What in blazes are you doing here? I thought you were long gone."
He smiled sheepishly. "I got half-way down the driveway before I realized one of the tires was flat. Mae must have run over a nail or something last night. I couldn't get the damn spare out of the trunk, then the lug nuts were all but seized and I had the bright idea to use as much of my weight as possible to dislodge them so I put my foot on the tire iron and…"
"And fell flat on your face." She was leaning against the counter now, coffee grounds crunching under the soles of her slippers, regarding him with barely contained mirth.
"After bouncing off the hood of the car," he admitted disgustedly. "It worked, but my pride is certainly bruised. I have to clean up and change. I hope Mae can get this dirt and grease out of my trousers."
Della began to laugh. "She loves a challenge." She coughed and turned to grip the counter for support.
Perry clasped her by her shoulders. "You should have stayed in bed," he chided softly, his hands rubbing up and down her arms while she continued to cough.
She shook her head, took a few shaky breaths, and leaned back against him, heedless of the dirt. "No, I had a chance to do something productive, so I took it. I'll have an extra long nap today, I promise. You're a mess. You need to go upstairs and get cleaned up. Can't let a little old flat tire keep Paul Drake in the clink all day."