“It’s just one of my talents,” Margaret responded with a wink.
The detective blushed. Margaret laughed and patted his hand.
“You lived in this area all your life?” he asked.
Margaret nodded. “Mostly.”
“Ever been married?” he asked.
“Once. No kids. No prospects.” Margaret sucked on her cigarette.
“Sorry,” the detective apologized. “Hazard of the job.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“Being nosy.” He smiled.
Margaret smiled. “I like people who are curious. Some people. What about you, Detective?”
“Call me Sam. No on all charges.” He smiled, bowing his head.
Margaret laughed. “Well, it ain’t a crime to be single! Not yet anyway.”
The detective smiled. He liked Margaret. She seemed down to earth, lacked any pretensions. When she smiled, she was quite pretty.
“I like it when it’s quiet,” he said.
“Well, you picked a great place to be a cop,” Margaret said, butting out her cigarette. “Nothing ever happens here in the Six Points. You could be born, live, and die in this area without making a ripple.”
“You sound disappointed,” the detective said.
“Well,” Margaret smiled, reaching for the coffee and topping up the detective’s cup, “I like a little excitement. Gets my juices going.”
“How come you haven’t moved into the city?” he asked.
Margaret smiled. “Always intend to, but I never get around to it.” The detective smiled and stared into his coffee. There was a long pause. Should I ask her? A customer stepped into the restaurant. Margaret moved down the counter. The detective shook his head and laughed to himself. God, I’m acting like a teenager.
Duke’s
Cathy backed away from Terry. She shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans and leaned provocatively against the variety store’s front. “I think you should go upstairs. By yourself. I’m not going to let you talk me into going up with you. I just couldn’t handle it. You, Johnny, my parents, your mother. It’s too much. I need some space. I can hardly breathe.”
“Why couldn’t you just have told him?” he cried. About to smash his fist on the front door leading up to his apartment, Terry turned away angrily.
“Keep your voice down,” Cathy pleaded, her voice sliding into the accent of a southern belle.
“Jesus!” Terry complained. “The accent.”
“You know I get that accent when I’m nervous,” Cathy explained.
“And I’m not being histrionic.”
“I didn’t say a thing.” I hate this melodrama!
“No…But I know how you think, Terry.” Quit sulking!
“You think you know me? You should get real, Cathy. Little rich girl fucking with everybody’s head. You’re an actress, Cathy. You love this shit!” Fuck! Why did I say that!
“I do not like this,” Cathy responded angrily. “Why do you always bring up my parents’ money? You’re the one who’s preoccupied with it.
And I’m not trying to fuck with your head. I love you, Terry. I just need some time.” I need a cigarette.
“You should have written Johnny. I thought you guys had an arrangement before he left. Christ, I’m crazy about you. Can’t you see that? I’ve been fucking the guy’s girlfriend for months and now I’m supposed to disappear. He’s the one that should get lost. You think he’s been an altar boy at college? You think he hasn’t been double-dipping into every pussy coming his way?” I’m driving her away. I can feel it. Got to shut up.
Cathy bit down on her lip. “If you don’t keep your voice down, Terry, I’m leaving.”
Terry took a deep breath. He fell back against his front door and slid down to the ground where he sat shaking his head.
“This is so fucking unfair,” he moaned. “I can’t stand… ” I’m losing her.
Cathy sat down on the sidewalk beside Terry. Please stop acting like a baby.
“It’s not all about you, Terry. How do you think I feel having the only two men I’ve ever loved tugging from both sides at me? I’m being torn apart. Sometimes I wish-”
“What? That you’d never met me?” Terry looked at Cathy then turned his head away.
“That I’d never met either one of you.” Didn’t mean that. Yes I did.
Terry turned back to Cathy. Tears ran slowly down Cathy’s cheek.
Terry wiped them away with his finger. All his anger seemed diluted in her tears. He tried to kiss her. She moved away.
“That’s not going to help!” She spat out each of her words.
Terry sighed, putting his face in both of his hands. If we could go upstairs, if we could fuck, this…would go away. Climbing to his feet, Terry stepped away, his back to Cathy. Abruptly he turned back on her.
“I can’t take this, Cathy. I’m aching for you. You don’t know what it’s like to have your body aching so much for someone. Like you’re going to be sick to your stomach. I can’t think straight. If only I could relax for five minutes, just time to think. It’s like my own body is torturing me.”
“What do you want me to do-give you a blow job so that we can have a reasonable conversation?”
Terry said nothing. Yes.
Cathy sighed deeply. Fat chance!
A police car, its lights flashing, raced along Bloor Street past the couple.
Terry stepped back toward Cathy. He looked down at her. “We could get married.”
Cathy remained silent for several minutes. And then in a voice barely audible she said mockingly, “That’s so pathetic.”
“What?” What did she say?
Nothing. Cathy shook her head.
Terry took a package of cigarettes out of his pocket. He offered one to Cathy. They both lit up. For several minutes neither spoke.
“What are you going to tell college-boy?”
“I’m not sure yet. Johnny’s going through a bad time. He screwed up at school. He was on probation to begin with and then he flunked a couple of classes. Latin and Greek, I think. He always hated Latin. Barely got through high school in Latin and then he signs up for the course.
What an asshole! Never went to class. What a jerk! His parents don’t know yet. They’re going to throw him out when they see his marks. He needs a job and a place to live.”
“Don’t tell me he asked to live with your folks?” Terry said, shaking his head.
“Where else is he going to go? My parents have always liked Johnny.
He’s personable. And our place is huge. Johnny could stay in the basement apartment. Now that Grandma is in the home, she doesn’t need it.”
“They hate me,” Terry cried, flicking the ashes of his cigarette on the ground. “Your parents hate me and they love all-American Johnny. The guy is such an asshole and your parents like him. Have they got dog food for brains?”
“They don’t hate you,” Cathy said. My mother thinks you’re a loser. She coughed, then took a puff on her cigarette. “You don’t say anything. I think they’re a bit afraid of you. It would help if you smiled once in a while and spoke to them. My dad is real keen on eye contact. He’s a lawyer after all. And they definitely don’t like the way you dress. And your hair.” My father is surprised that you don’t have a police record.
“And my mother?” Terry asked.
“Well,” Cathy hesitated, smoke slipping through her teeth. “If she was a little more discreet with her personal life…”
“Shit! They hate me. They hate anyone who doesn’t have a Mercedes in their future. And they love good old Johnny. They don’t mind if he gets kicked out of college. He’ll get the Mercedes the old-fashioned way.
He’ll inherit it. Christ, is this going to come down to who your parents like? Have you had sex with Johnny?”
“No!” Like I’d tell you.
Terry turned and looked at Cathy.
“Well,” Cathy hesitated, her eyes dropping, “what was I supposed to do?”
Terry ran his fingers through his hair. He gritted his teeth angrily.
“You’re supposed to say no! I’m your boyfriend!”
“He was crying. I didn’t know what else to do. He needed me so much. It’s terrible when someone needs you so much.”
“He was crying? He begged you? And you didn’t find that pathetic.