i have spent nights with matches and knives
leaning over ledges only two flights up
cutting my heart, burning my soul
nothing left to hold
nothing left but blood and fire
--Indigo Girls, Blood and Fire
“Matthew’s conscious,” she says. “He’s... he’s back.”
“How is he?”
“He’s actually doing pretty well, they don’t think there’s much brain damage, and if there is, they don’t think it’s too significant... Leo...”
“What?”
“Leo, we have to... we’ve got to slow down. This is-- I can’t just spring this on him--”
“Oh.” The finality in his voice is a shock, almost an insult.
“We don’t have to stop seeing each other, Leonardo...”
“I understand, Karen,” he says, and he can hear in his voice that he doesn’t. “You’ve got a lot to think about now...”
“I just thought-- I thought maybe we could start having a relationship, maybe--”
“Excuse me?”
“Leo, all we do is... we don’t even talk about what we’ve been--”
“You’ve never exactly wanted to talk, Karen--”
”That’s all I’m saying, is maybe we should slow down, maybe we should--”
“I know what you’re saying, Karen--”
“You have no idea what I’m saying--”
“You could at least have not told me over the phone--”
“Dammit, Leo--”
Mike passes by Leonardo. “Everything okay?”
Leo angrily gestures him away.
“Good to know,” Mike says drily.
Three weeks later, on Agnes’ back porch, watching the stars come out.
“Mike,” Agnes says softly. “I know this is hard. But... they’re too dependent on you. If you keep letting them use you like this--”
“They’re not using me,” Mike says sharply.
“They don’t mean to,” she says. “But they are. And the more they do it, the more they need you. Mike, if something happened to you right now, they’d fall apart.”
“They’ve been through a lot--”
“So have you, and how much support have they given you?”
“They can’t,” he says sadly. “They would, Agnes, you don’t understand--”
“I understand they’re using you as a crutch. They need to start walking on their own, or they’re never going to. You don’t have to move out tomorrow, I’m not saying that, I’m just saying-- maybe you could stay over here once in a while...” she winds her fingers around his. “I mean, we’ve never even--”
“Agnes.”
“I want to be a part of your life,” she says. “Not just some woman you have dinner with once in a while.”
“You are a part of my life.”
“I don’t feel that way.”
“Agnes, I don’t want to lose you.”
”I know. And I’m not trying to threaten you, it’s just... I’m frustrated.”
“I know, Agnes. I know. So am I.”
Owens runs his finger over the list of customers again, hoping he’ll find some kind of revelation in the letters.
“Should we talk to the turtle?” Freedman asks.
“Nah. Somebody would’ve noticed him... remember, the profilers said this guy’s a stalker, he’s tailing them around, he’s gotta be the kind of guy who blends in.”
“Yeah, but they told you he was around there a lot... maybe he noticed something.”
“Yeah...” Better than sitting around wondering if they should go public, anyway. “Let’s give it a shot.”
FBI agents, Raph thinks. Wonderful.
“...are you Raphael?”
”Yeah, I am.”
“We have some questions about Mary Anderson... I believe you knew her as Brandy?”
“Brandy at the--”
They nod.
”Look, do you mind if we go out back and talk? My kid’s in here...”
“That’s fine.”
“She’s dead,” Raph says, leaning back against the couch. “Murdered.”
“How?”
“They didn’t say, just wanted to know where I’d been, how often I’d seen her... anybody else I’d seen around, that kinda thing. She was always kinda afraid of me...”
“So you think you’re a suspect?”
“I don’t know. They didn’t ask me not to leave town or anything... Leo?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s going on? You’re not even listening...”
“I-- I’m sorry, Raph, it’s just...”
“What?”
“Karen.”
“She call?”
“She’s pregnant.”
“Leo... what... what are you guys gonna do?”
“I don’t know. She wanted to know what I wanted... what could I tell her? I mean--”
“You want her to have it, don’t you?”
The look on Leo’s face is answer enough.
“So why didn’t you tell her?”
“Raph, her kid just got out of the hospital, for christ’s sake, I can’t tell her what to do, I mean, I told her I’d support her if she had it, but...”
“So you just told her to do whatever? Leo, what the hell is wrong with you?”
“Maybe I shoulda done it the way you did, is that it?
“Leo--”
“End up with an ex-wife I’m obsessed with and a son I hardly see?”
“Obsessed?”
“I saw that girl’s face, Raph. Even if I hadn’t--”
“Fuck off, Leo.”
But he’s angry now, too angry to stop himself, to notice the dangerous light in Raph’s eyes. “I mean, for you to be giving me advice after the way you’ve fucked your life up--”
”Leonardo.”
“How dare you?”
“How dare you,” he growls, low, too angry to threaten.
“How dare I what? Point out the truth?”
The darkness is so thick and black Raph can almost touch it, his blood roaring in his ears, his brother’s voice merely an irritation in the haze of anger and pain and frustration and guilt. “What should I have done? C’mon, Leo, you know so much, tell me. Killed her father myself before he could blow our brother’s head off?”
“You never should have gotten involved with her in the first place.”
“Like you did with Karen? At least we took some fucking time...”
“And it was still a mistake--”
“It’s better just to fuck her?”
“It’s better to have a son you ignore?”
”I don’t ignore--”
”We both know Mike sees more of him than you do.”
“What the fuck is it with you, Leo?” The darkness is swirling, angry, but he’s still fighting it, still trying to kill the rage, still trying not to...
“With me? With me? I’m not the one giving out advice--”
“I was just trying to--”
“To what? To help me be as miserable as you are?”
The truth of it hits Raph like a fist. And he strikes out, the way he always has, the only way he can...
“Sorry I didn’t call sooner, I had to drive Leo to the hospital...”
“Is he all right?”
“Yeah, it’s just a broken arm--”
”What happened?”
“It’s... it’s a long story. Agnes... I’m not waiting for them any more.”
“Mike?”
“Will you marry me?”
”Mike?”
“I’m not waiting for them anymore, Agnes. I can’t. I want to take you and the kids and we’ll go to Reno or something...”
“Now?”
“Now.”
“Without...”
“Without my brothers.” There’s a sadness in his voice, but with it is a resolve she’s never heard before.
“Mike, I don’t want you...”
“It’s all right if you don’t want to Agnes, I don’t want to push you... it’s just... I’m not going to waste the rest of my life waiting for the right time. I love you. I want to marry you.”
“Mike, I don’t want you to regret--”
”The only thing I’ll regret,”he says, a trace of steel showing in his voice, “is not asking you sooner.”
“Do you have a ring?”
“We’ll buy the ring, I’ll buy you a dress... we’ll go to one of those stupid one-stop wedding chapels, and we’ll get you another ring later, something better, something beautiful...”
”Mike... you’re out of your mind.”
The silence on the end of the line feels like a knife in her chest.
“I’m sorry, Agnes,” he says finally.
“No-- Mike, wait,” she says, recovering from the shock of the call, “I didn’t say I didn’t want to get married...”
Silence. “I mean, it’s just... Mike, give me a little warning, I mean here I think our relationship’s going nowhere and suddenly you’re asking me to marry you... I just-- I need a second or two to adjust...” He was doing it all for them, she realizes. He was really doing it for them. And something’s happened... “Mike... what’s going on? What happened?”
“Nothing. A lot of things... Agnes, I love you. And... and I just realized that I’m not doing them any good. I’m not doing anyone any good... Sophie loves you. I love you. I want to be with you. I want to be a family.” He listens, hoping for some kind of hint, a sound on the end of the line...
“I’ll call my daughter,” she says. “If she can make it...”
“Agnes,” he says, the reality of it starting to hit him, “I don’t want to push you... if you...”
“No,” she says. “You’re not.”
“Are you sure?”
“As long as you are.”
Karen is attractive enough; striking more than pretty, with a nervous energy that sets Agnes’ teeth on edge. Matthew is shy, but he seems sweet. They say he’s pretty much back to normal; he still doesn’t remember his suicide attempt. Probably just as well.
This is the first time she’s met Vaughn, April’s new boyfriend; Mike told her they’d met years ago, back before she married Casey, back before they’d even got together... he’d helped her out when she’d gotten stranded. She seems happy now, nervous, but happy. Agnes has never seen her happy before; it’s nice.
Agnes found a white suit that didn’t look too bad and they settled on a tiny but pretty sapphire and diamond ring. The kiss is long but reasonably tasteful, almost everyone cries, and everyone seems pleased with the outcome. Even Agnes’ daughter-- who has often and loudly expressed serious reservations about having a turtle and a BZ-II infected little girl in the family. She even offers to take Sophie for the night and Sophie-- eager to see her new best friend Rhiannon-- begs for so long Mike relents.
“You can have the house,” Mike says before they split up for the drive back home.
“I’m gonna go to Karen’s for a while... we need to talk.”
You can say that again, Mike thinks, but he just puts his arms around his brother. “Tell her the truth, Leo. It’s what she deserves.”
“I know,” he says softly.
“Good luck.”
“Thanks... congratulations, Mike.”
“I just wish Don...”
“He was here, Mike. He was here.”
“You know,” she says, unbuttoning the jacket, “I could even wear this again.”
“Would you?” He almost sounds worried.
”I don’t know...”
”I mean, you wouldn’t want to spill anything on it or anything, would you?”
“No,” she says, understanding what he’s really asking, “but it’d be nice if I could wear it on our anniversary...”
He helps her take the jacket off, hangs it up, puts his arms around her. “You know, I saw your first movie. The week it came out...”
“You never told me that.”
“...I had the biggest crush on you back then.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” he says, grinning. “You and that little gap between your teeth...”
She shakes her head, grinning back. “Did you still have a crush on me after I got rid of it?”
He pulls her face down to his and they kiss; his fingers brush against the soft fabric of her blouse, caressing, unbuttoning... “Guess,” he whispers, rough hands making contact with her skin, fingertips resting on her collarbone than pushing her hair back from her neck. He leans closer to her and lets his lips brush against her neck, her chin.
“Was I what you expected, when you finally met me?”
“No,” he says, chuckling into her hair. “God, no--”
“You thought I’d be all sweet and innocent,” she teases.
“Well, yeah... sort of...”
“And you were so wrong...”
“You were nothing like I expected...” The blouse slips over her shoulders, lights gently on a chair. She pulls him closer, feeling her breasts flatten against the solid surface of his body. “You were more wonderful than I could have dreamed...”
“And I thought,” she laughs, leading his hands to her skirt, “that you were so goofy, and lightweight, and that you’d run from any sign of responsibility...”
“Two out of three isn’t bad...”
Her palms touch the leathery surface of his plastron, trace ridges and scars. “Maybe, someday, you’ll tell me how you got all these.”
“Too many stories for one day,” he says, a little sadly, helping her step out of the skirt.
“All right then,” she says. “Tell me about the first time you made love to a woman.”
“Well,” he says, brushing the back of her neck with his lips, “I’d just gotten married...”
“Yeah... and-- Mike?”
His hands are on her skin now, moving along her back, caressing. “mmm... What?”
“Really?”
“Really.”
She puts her hands on his face and pulls him away so she can see him. “And you weren’t going to tell me?”
He gives her that cute look, the one that makes her wonder if she’d rather kiss him or smack him. Maybe both.
“You know,” he says, “there were girls... women... ‘specially when I started making the movies... they wanted the turtle... not me. I wanted to wait... until... I don’t know, until I...”
“Mike.” He looks up at her. “You don’t have to tell me all this...”
“Agnes...”
She puts a finger on his lips. “Shh...”
April is driving; it’s night, and she has the radio on. Loud.
Layla
You’ve got me on my knees
Layla
I’m beggin’, darlin’, please
Layla
Darlin’ won’t you ease my worried mind?
Clapton’s wails intensify, and she raises her voice, singing louder... she puts on the blinker, turns into the driveway, parks, cuts the engine off but leaves the radio on. She sits there, playing air piano, until the last strains of the song die out.
“Yeah,” a too-familiar voice next to her right ear says, “great song, ain’t it?”
And she turns to Casey, what’s left of Casey, his face blood and bone and gristle, holding the gun inches from her face...
“April,” Vaughn says, strong hands on her shoulders holding her down, keeping her from bolting out of bed, “April, it’s just a dream. April...”
She sobs, inarticulate, holds him to try to keep from drowning, to stop the shaking that is taking over her body.
He curls his arms around her, slowly, deliberately, rocks her just a little, murmurs her name. “April... April, darlin’...” Just after Don died, she told him, she was having the dreams every night. Nothing stopped them, nothing touched them, not the counsellors or the drugs they prescribed... just time. They’re better now, she had said, only every couple weeks or so...
Vaughn guesses they’re down to once a month since he moved in; he’s grateful for that. It hasn’t always been easy, following in her ex-husbands’ footsteps. Especially nights like these, nightmares like these, when she relives the pain and the fear...
He pulls her head to his chest, closes his eyes.
It’s going to be a long night.
--end chapter six--
On to Chapter Seven