Chapter 11

Alex noticed his car was gone, but hid her disappointment. She waved to Liz and went inside, locking the door behind her. She stared at the jumbled mess in front of her.

"Bobby…" she sighed. Alex walked to the nearest box, sifted through a few things with her hand, and realized what had happened. She folded her arms and considered whether she should call him or not. At last, she dialed his number.

"Yeah?" He answered.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm okay." Silence. Then, "Uhm… how did it go with your sister?"

"Good, Bobby."

"Good."

Alex sat silently on her end of the line, but he offered no explanation. Finally, she asked, "Are you coming home anytime soon?"

"Yeah, I'll come home. I just… I had to get out of there for a while… you know, the walls were closing in on me," he said, with a half-hearted chuckle.

"Yeah. I guess so."

"I'll put it back… I just needed a break."

"Bobby, was there something in there that… something maybe from Joe? Are you okay?"

"Fine, Alex. It's nothing like that, really," and he hung up the phone with a promise to see her soon. He tossed the phone down against the passenger seat and stared at the bar, where he'd just parked. It was a different one than last time, one Lewis wasn't likely to drive past.

Bobby mopped his face with his left hand, already feeling like he'd dug himself into a hole he couldn't climb out of. At last, he snatched the phone back up, dropped it into his pocket, and got out of the car.

Alex gave him time. She did some housekeeping, then sat on the narrow patch he'd left for her on the couch and watched movie that was on tv. Then her eyes, and her hands drifted back to the box on the couch beside her. She started looking through it carefully, and while she did have blasts of nostalgia, mostly she was consumed with what Bobby must have thought or felt as he went through these things.

She picked up the papers that were lying loose and put them into the box. Then, realizing it was getting late, she made herself dinner. She thought about calling him again, but she didn't want to nag.

The longer he was gone, the angrier she got. She paced through the constricted aisle he'd left for her to walk in, and wondered why he'd gotten all of it out in the first place. It's not like they were going to put the crib in the closet. Finally, at the limit of her patience, she grabbed, shoved, and kicked the heavy boxes one by one back into the guest bedroom. She even managed to lift them long enough to stack them back in the closet.

"She's going to have a baby," he said to the bartender, slurring his words. "My baby."

"Congratulations," the barkeep said, though he sounded completely disinterested.

"I never really wanted a baby… but now I do. I think. I mean, I don't want her to, you know…"

The bartender was itching to escape, but he couldn't pull himself away from the conversation.

"She's such a good woman," Bobby continued. "I don't know what she sees in me." He drank down half of his fresh glass of whiskey and gulped hard. "She had a husband once," he went on. "He was… he was killed, in the line of duty, a cop. A good one."

"You think when you love someone like that… you think you can really, move on?"

The bartender shrugged.

"I don't know, either. She says so, but I don't know. I mean, I could never… measure up…"

"Hello?"

"Lewis, is Bobby with you?"

"No, Detective, I haven't seen him in a week. Why?"

"Oh." She was disappointed. "He was supposed to be home… a while ago. He's not answering his phone. I thought maybe…"

"You want me to go out and look for him?"

"No, Lewis, never mind. I'm sorry I bothered you."

"Detective Eames, are you okay?"

"Yes, thank you, Lewis. I'm all right." She said goodbye and hung up the phone, raising a finger to her lips and nipping at the jagged edge of a nail.

At least he had the wherewithal to know he was too drunk to drive. Bobby stuffed his keys back into his pocket and walked down the street, in the direction of the subway. It was so cold his breath froze in his nostrils, and he lowered his chin as he turned up the collar on his coat. Bobby fished his gloves out of his pockets. He got the first glove on, but fumbled with the other and it dropped to the ground. As he bent over to retrieve it, he was shoved out of the lamplight and into an alley. Bobby reached out and swung hard, but missed. He felt the bricks of the building rake against his skin and sank to the ground, still reaching for his wallet, which was long gone.

Alex heard the phone ringing in the other room, but she had just crossed over into that relaxed realm where sleep was ready to claim her. Immediately, she thought of Bobby, and her mind told her to get up.

The anger came back and kept her rooted where she lay. She rolled over and put the pillow over her head until the phone was silent.