Little White Lies (39 page)

“Absolutely not!” I state emphatically. “I should not have told you anything as it is. I had this crazy notion you might help. Instead, all I have managed to do is feed your insatiable prurient interest. You’re beyond all hope.”

“You can’t cut me off now!” she pleads with outstretched hands, a gesture that would do justice to a drug addict… or a love junky. “How can I help you if I don’t know what’s going on?”

It’s a reasonable position, perhaps, but still unacceptable.

“I guess you can’t,” I reply, getting off the sofa.

I walk to the bar and pour out the remainder of the drink, which is most of it. I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with me… confiding in Sheri of all people. I ought to go to a head mechanic for a tune-up.

“I’m going to turn in, Sheri. Sweet dreams.”

At least I accomplished one thing tonight… now I’m not the only one frustrated by this all thisnonsense.

***

“Hi, Philip, what’s going on in your world?” And before I can answer, “How about coming into the city tonight? We could have dinner and spend a nice quiet evening at home.”

“I’d love to, but I can’t do it tonight, Karen,” I reply. “A.J. had to delay his departure for a day. We have some problems and we have to get them resolved forthwith. It’s not going to take a lot of time, but we have to be sure to get it out of the way tonight so he can get out of here.”

“Okay, why don’t you have your meeting and then come in later?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t want to commit right now in case we need more time. We have to finish this tonight. I’d hate to have you waiting for me and then have to cancel because this thing runs over. How about tomorrow?”

“I’m busy tomorrow and the next night.”

“Then let’s make it later in the week or even on the weekend… or I can call you later tonight as soon as I know what’s happening.”

Long silence. I figure she’s checking her schedule, but her next comment tells me I’m wrong.

“Look, Philip, I have things to do, too. You’re not the only one with a job. Why can’t you rearrange your schedule to suit me for a change? I’ve certainly done my share in that regard for you.”

Her tone of voice is absolutely dripping with acid. How in the hell have we come to this? A few days ago I did not think I would ever see Karen again. Then she returns and acts as though she never left. Now we’re having a battle because I have some business problems. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. Dammit!

“Look, I know things haven’t been easy recently, but we simply have some things that need attention right now. It’s bad timing, that’s all. Don’t characterize it as a matter of who or what is more important. A.J. has delayed his departure in order to get this stuff out of the way. It might be over in an hour… or it might take considerably longer. The trouble is, I don’t know.

“I can’t commit to coming into the city until this situation is under control. It’s not as though I’m canceling out on something that has been scheduled for days or weeks. You just called to see if we could get together. Unfortunately it turns out I may have some problems. Why make more out of it than there is?”

“It sounds like you and Jennifer had plenty of time for each other when I was gone. Why don’t you pretend you’re making arrangements to be with her and just substitute my name in place of hers. I’ll bet that would work.”

“Come on, Karen. This whole thing is getting rather childish. We have a scheduling problem, pure and simple. We… “

“Forget I called, Philip. Good-bye.”

And that’s the name of that tune… a dial tone. Karen has never acted like this before and I can’t imagine what’s driving her now. I know I shouldn’t react this way, but this kind of thing drives me crazy. Pissed-off crazy. Disgusted crazy. It seems one minute everything is fine and the next minute we have a problem of universal proportions. I can’t stand this constant emotional flux… it’s driving me over the centerline!

The ringing telephone has to be Karen. She cooled down faster than I thought she would. Thirty seconds has to be a record. She probably sees how ridiculous this whole thing is.

“Hello.”

“Hi, Philip, it’s Jennifer.”

I wonder if these lines are tapped. It’s a good thing A.J. isn’t tuned in to what’s going on right now. He would be having the time of his demented life. Or, things could be slow in heaven and God is just having some fun swatting me around. I’m sure there’s an answer, but probably none as rational as those I have come up with so far.

“Hi, Jennifer.”

I must sound like an inmate at the asylum who needs eighty milligrams instead of the standard twenty.

“I called to see if you guys would like to come over and have a drink or whatever. You know how I hate to eat alone.”

“Jennifer, I’m afraid we have some things that need to be addressed right now. A.J. had to delay his trip. We would like to have them resolved this evening. We’re getting together again in a few minutes and there’s no telling when we’ll be finished. With a little luck it shouldn’t take much more than an hour. Afterwards, he will be leaving. I don’t know what Sheri’s plans are… if you like, I can check with her and call you right back.”

“Sounds good. If it will make things easier, I’m willing to come over there… if I’m invited that is.”

She laughs and rings off. Before I can page Sheri, there’s a soft knock on the door.

Sheri pokes her head in and asks, “What are you up to tonight? I assume A.J. will leave before dinner.”

Am I the only one around here who isn’t clairvoyant? I tell her about Jennifer’s call and offer, along with her willingness to join us here. Sheri prefers here because she has just given Mary the evening off and she wants to stay home with the kids. Martha’s had a long day and Sheri doesn’t want to ask her to watch them at this hour.

I call Jennifer to relay the information: our place around six-thirty or seven. We can always play with the time if A.J. and I run over, or she and Sheri can eat together and if necessary I’ll catch up with them later.

“That’s fine,” she replies. “One more favor. Would you be willing to pick me up if you finish on schedule?

That would give us a little more time together. You see, I’m always plotting and scheming.”

“Of course. I should have offered. I will call you as soon as we’re finished here. Otherwise, if you don’t hear from me, just come over around six-thirty.”

We say our good-byes and hang up. I can’t help but think how ironic it is that I have just done what Karen accused me of a few moments earlier. Of course there are differences and I could explain them, but somehow I don’t think I would find a friendly listener in Karen. I know I sure as hell don’t want to try to explainit to A.J.

***

For once, the best-case scenario worked out and A.J. and I finished our business slightly ahead of schedule. A.J. stuck to the subject for a change and things went smoothly, probably because he didn’t have an audience. Now it looks like I could have made it to Karen’s after all. Unfortunately I don’t think she’s in the mood to have callers at this hour… especially me.

I pull up in front of Jennifer’s home at the appointed hour, driving A.J.’s Lexus coupe, his latest acquisition. This time I insisted he trade a car in. All the bays in the garage are full and it doesn’t make sense to build more garage space or start leaving cars outside. Heck, it’s tough enough just keeping the cars in running order. He agreed, albeit reluctantly… he loves his toys.

The door opens just as I’m about to push the bell. Jennifer is dressed in her normal attire, looking casually elegant. She leans forward, kisses me on the cheek and pulls me in the door.

“Come in. I just called Sheri and told her we would be a few minutes late. I thought we could have a drink here and talk for a little while. Is that okay with you?”

“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” I reply. “I just finished up with A.J. and that’s always a good excuse to have a drink. We’ve really been going at it.”

“What are you working on?”

“There’s been a design change that will be incorporated into all the restaurants under construction… three buildings are affected… and we have to get it back to the architects tomorrow. I won’t bore you with the details. A.J. doesn’t realize how much it costs to make changes once the construction is underway. I should say he didn’t realize… he’s a little more up to speed now.”

She takes my hand and steers me towards the living room. Albert is standing in the foyer, to the side of the doorway. His look is normal: totally devoid of expression, a classic case of emotional constipation. I’m not sure he likes me. Jennifer sits on the sofa and pats the seat, signaling me to sit next to her.

“I know you don’t think Albert likes you,” she whispers, leaning over so she cannot be overheard, “but I assure you that’s not the case. He always looks that way.” The last is said with a smirk.

“You mean he always looks intestinally blocked?”

Jennifer laughs and swats me on the shoulder.

“No, that’s not what I meant and you know it. He is practically family to me and he cares about me… that’s all. He doesn’t trust you because he doesn’t know you.”

“Which is it? He always looks that way, or he’s suspicious of me because he doesn’t know me?”

“All of the above. I don’t know. I give up.”

She throws her hands in the air in mock exasperation.

A silver tray rests on the table. There’s a bottle of white wine chilling in a marble cooler and two glasses. Jennifer leans forward and pours the wine, handing a glass to me. She moves closer and we touch glasses in a silent toast.

“You know,” she says, “if we are ever going to get to know one another better, we are going to have to touch more than glasses. I mean… that’s how people get to know one another.”

My left arm is resting behind her on the back of the sofa. I cradle my hand gently behind her neck and draw her to me. This is our first real kiss and the onlything on my mind right now is what took me so long?

***

“Phil, I got a call last night from some of the guys from the old neighborhood,” A.J. begins our first telephone conversation of the day. “They said they wanted to come up for a short visit when I get back. I told them I wouldn’t get home until later this evening, but they said that was no problem since they didn’twant to stay long anyway. They should be there around seven. I thought you might want to meet them… see some of my old friends from the hood. I don’t think there’s any agenda… they probably just want to drop in and have a few laughs, free drinks… you know the drill.”

“Sure,” I reply, “I’d like to meet them, any friend of yours, and all that. If I’m not around, just call and I’llcome running.”

***

Right on time, my pager beeps with a code from security, someone’s at the gate. A.J.’s friends have probably arrived. We decided to hold dinner until after his friends leave, so I imagine this will be short and sweet. A.J. walks towards the front door, preferring to meet his old buddies in person. I stay back in the foyer. I imagine he will entertain them in the library, so I’ll hang around in this area until all the greetings are over.

A.J. opens the door and leans against the jamb watching his pals ascend the stairs to the house. He probably has mixed emotions about seeing some of these guys, judging from some of the stories he has told me about his youth. He knew a lot of tough customers during those years.

The three men approach A.J. on the stairs and there appears to be a momentary pause as everyone takes stock of the situation. A.J. is probably looking at his friends to see if they are the same as he remembers them. For their part, I would imagine they are somewhat impressed by A.J.’s new status. It’s one thing to read about someone’s success, quite another to see the results of what all that money can buy.

A.J. is the first to speak.

“Hey! All my main men… together!” He holds out his fists for the ritual handshakes and a quick succession of strange grips and moves follows. The sacred rites completed, A.J. turns and leads the way into the house.

He holds his hands up as if seeing me for the first time today.

“Phil, I want you to meet some of the old gang from the hood.”

The last said with a gleam in his eye and an accent on the word, ‘hood’.

The three men trail A.J. and continue to look at their surroundings as if putting a price on each object they notice. One of the men is taller than the other two. He is slender and his movements are slow and deliberate. The other two are slightly shorter than A.J., but both move with that same easy street-smart grace. False bravado or not, these men do not impress easily.

A.J. stops and turns to the three and begins the introductions.

“Guys, I want you to meet a friend and business associate of mine, Phil Richards. Phil, the big guy on the left here is ‘Lightning Fast’, known for his fast hands. We call him Lightning, Light, or Fast… should have been a magician.”

Lightning Fast looks at me and then looks away and resumes his survey of the house. He doesn’t bother to nod, shake hands or acknowledge the introduction in any other way. If A.J. notices the affront, he doesn’t bother to call attention to it. On the other hand, maybe he’s so fast, we shook hands and I simply missed it.

“The man in the middle here,” he continues, “is ‘Dealer’, because of all the new cars he drives. And last, and least, is ‘Rumble’, which, I suppose, is self-explanatory. The man loves to get it on.”

A.J. continues to look at Rumble and adds, “Do you still do all that crazy shit, man?”

Rumble ignores the question. No one bothers to acknowledge my presence. A.J. leads the way to the library without further comment. The three walk along slowly in his wake and I bring up the rear. Rumble takes the door and begins to close it in my face. His glare is supposed to stop me in my tracks, but I’ve already had enough of their juvenile crap. I push the door open, enter and close it behind me. I turn to make my way into the room and run smack into Rumble, who has remained standing in his place. I immediately step back and hold up my hands.

“My apologies, Mr. Rumble, but A.J. asked me to remain in the room. If he has changed his mind, I will be happy to leave. Otherwise, I’d let it go if I were you.”