These Foolish Things (25 page)

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Authors: Susan Thatcher

BOOK: These Foolish Things
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Liz shrugged. “Must have just been a phase, like having acne
all the time when you’re a teenager. You grow out of phases.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing, really,” Liz was pensive. “I’ve been falling
asleep by myself a few nights lately.”

“Bullshit. You wouldn’t be that depressed if it was just an
occasional thing.”

“He’s been getting buried at work. Success attracts success
and he’s extremely successful. He works hard.”

Millie’s eyebrows were as high as she could raise them.
“Tyrone is too busy to have sex with you?”

“I didn’t say that. Can we change the subject, please?”

“No, this is the kind of stuff girlfriends are supposed to
talk about and obsess over. What’s happening, Liz?”

Liz felt her chest tighten, “Nothing much.”

“As in,” Millie intoned delicately, “nothing much?”

Liz stared at her knees. “If he’s there, which doesn’t
happen as often as it used to, he’s not there.” You should have been more
careful what you wished for, Girl, thought Liz, because, by God, you got him.

“Meaning?” Millie prompted.

Liz snapped, “He’s either too tired, preoccupied or drunk
and when he is interested,” Liz hated this conversation, “there’s not much left
for me, if you catch my drift.”

“Oh, Liz. What happened?”

“His team lost a big class-action suit because someone
missed a filing date,” Liz answered. “And the judge dismissed it. He was so
angry for a few days that I was afraid of him. As soon as he came home, he’d
start pouring the Scotch and get on the phone. I caught a look from him a
couple of times like he blamed me.”

“How could it be your fault?” Millie was aghast, “You don’t
work for him!”

“I distracted him,” said Liz.

“Did he say that?” asked Millie.

“No,” said Liz, “but he’s spent more time with me than he
has with any other woman and I overheard one of the associates make a remark
about it. If he’d maintained his focus, the error wouldn’t have happened. When
they restarted the case, he threw himself into it.”

Liz stared out the window and continued, more or less to
herself, but out loud, “He breaks plans and then buys me jewelry to make up for
it and for not coming home. When we do go out, and that doesn’t happen much,
he’s on the phone non-stop; he doesn’t eat much of what he orders and it’s one
drink after another until I have to drive us home. At least, he’s smart enough
to let me do that. I mentioned to him that I thought maybe he should cut back
and he said, ‘Nah, don’t worry. I can stop. Once this case is done. I’ll stop,
I promise.’ And he’s been on the road for this case, most of the time in
Houston. I’ll call him and it sounds like a huge party in the background. He
sounds drunk most of the time when I talk to him. When he’s home, his mind is
in the office. Millie, I swear some days I could go down on him and he wouldn’t
notice.”

“Ouch.”

Liz was fighting her tears. “In the beginning, yeah, we
couldn’t get enough of each other. We almost didn’t want to fall asleep and
when we did, he’d be spooned up behind me, sound asleep and if I tried to get
out of bed, his arm would tighten around me. I’d kiss him in his sleep and he’d
smile or make a little ‘mmmm’ sound. If I put my arms around him, I could feel
him relax and snuggle closer.” Liz smiled at the memories. “Before we’d fall
asleep, he’d read to me. Oh, Mill, that voice and John Donne’s poetry...”

“He’d kiss my face and whisper something like “Goodnight,
Love” as I was falling asleep and I’d feel him pulling me close as he fell
asleep. In the morning, we’d look into each other’s eyes for a couple of
minutes before saying or doing anything, then he’d tease me about snoring and
I’d give him grief about farting in his sleep.”

Millie asked quietly, “And now?”

“The poetry book has stayed in the drawer. He stays on his
side of the bed, doesn’t touch me. I still see those wonderful eyes across the
pillow, but they’re bloodshot now. If I try to put my arms around him, he
pushes me off and rolls away. The night before I left on this trip,” this
really hurt, “I kissed him in his sleep and he slapped at me like I was a
mosquito biting him.” Liz unconsciously touched her cheek where Ty had hit her.
He’d been too drunk to wake up even after that.

“Did you yell at him, at least?” Millie was getting
indignant and angry.

“What’s the point? He didn’t know what he was doing. When I
first moved in, he would have given me a huge argument about leaving him alone
for a weekend. When I asked if he minded that I’d go up to New Hampshire, he
didn’t care. I’ve tried to talk to him about it, but all he’d say was, “Liz,
Baby, I’m sorry, but can we do this later? I’m running late for a meeting with
Jimmy.’ and head out the door, but come back with something to show me how
sorry he was. But,” Liz had to pause, “he wasn’t sorry enough to make time.”

“Who’s Jimmy?” Millie asked.

“Jimmy Carlisle, Esquire,” Liz practically spat the name,
“is the up-and-coming litigator busted for cocaine possession last summer.
Remember the hecklers at the auction? Well, that was Jimmy and friends. Anyway,
Brooks, Washburn made a deal with the DA to keep him working and to avoid the
bad publicity.

“Well, part of the deal was that he’d be closely supervised
and they assigned him to work with Ty, figuring a mentor would straighten him
out. So, they’ve been working together and more than one night, Jimmy’s been
crashed in one of the spare rooms at our house. He’ll keep Ty up, talking and
drinking until 4 AM. The housekeeper was on the verge of quitting two weeks ago.”

“Why?”

“Well, Jimmy switched from coke to vodka, ‘cuz vodka’s
legal, Lizzie. Don’t you worry.’ Millie, the man is a binge drinker and he goes
until he vomits. Usually all over the bed or the bathroom.” Millie made a
disgusted sound.

Liz leaned her head against the window. “He graduated top of
his class from a first-tier school, but you’ve gotta wonder how. I’ve heard him
choke on some basic law questions that even I can answer, but then, Jimmy is
the king of cutting corners.”

Liz sighed, “Instead of Ty being a good influence on him,
Jimmy’s dragging Ty down to his level. Ty was a really sharp, hard-nosed
litigator, you know. Really thorough preparation and a huge presence in a
courtroom. He fought hard, but clean. I don’t know anyone who didn’t respect
him, including the guys who lost to him.”

“Things have changed. Jimmy walks just a hair on the wrong
side of ethics, pushing and pushing and pushing at the line. He relies on
borderline misrepresentation, questionable billing and deliberately losing
documents. He’s doing this on cases he’s working with Ty and word is getting
around. That’s not all; every chance he gets, the bastard’s trying to grope me
or rub against me. It’s gotten so I don’t want to be home if he’s in the house.”

“Oh, my God,” exclaimed Millie, “Have you told Ty? He’ll
kill him.”

“No, Mill, I haven’t. When I get to see Ty, he’s in no state
to deal with it.” Liz looked at Millie, “Our first date, he mentioned how much
he used to enjoy rowing, that he hadn’t done it in ages and that he missed it.”

“Yeah.”

“I got him a new racing shell. It was delivered last week.” Liz
had smoothed the hull with her hand, admiring the deep, glossy green of the
surface, hoping the gift would reconnect Ty to better times and lead him out of
his downward spiral.

“Must have cost you a fortune,” said Millie. “What did he
say?”

“If it does what I hope it will, it’s worth it,” Liz
answered. “And no, he hasn’t seen it. He hasn’t come home before 11 PM for the
last month. And he hasn’t been alone or sober. The time hasn’t been right.” Liz
sighed.

“You tried to tell me, Mill. The night of the Barrister’s
Ball, you tried to tell me he had a drinking problem, but I didn’t listen.” Liz
was silent for a couple of minutes.

“You know, Millie, I’ve been wishing and praying that this
would pass; all I’d have to do is wait it out.” Liz bit her lip. “Now I’m not
so sure. I don’t know how much further down he can sink and I can’t stop it. I
know he hates me seeing him like this. I’m thinking this relationship was a
huge mistake and it may be time to undo it.”

She continued almost unconsciously, “It’s been at least two
weeks since I’ve been able to make him smile or laugh. I lost him, Millie, if I
even really had him in the first place.”

Millie opened her mouth to say something, then snapped it
shut and slammed the brakes.

“Liz, don’t look.” Millie scrambled out of the car.

Liz knew. She dove out of her side and bolted for the
pathetic little bundle of white and black fur in the road just ahead of the
car.

“Oh, Beanie.”

He was still alive, but there was a trickle of blood from
his nose. Blood was slowly leaking from a long laceration on his side. At least
one of his legs was obviously broken and his eyes were glazed. Liz whipped off
her sweatshirt while Millie yanked a floor mat out of the car.

“Easy, easy, easy,” cautioned Liz as they slid him as gently
as possible onto the floor mat. Beanie tried to meow but couldn’t make the
sound. Horns began to honk behind Millie’s Saab. One guy yelled something and
Millie fired back with, “Fuck you! This is an emergency!” as they lifted
Beanie. The harassment ended when the drivers saw what they were doing. Millie
helped Liz ease Beanie and herself into the back seat. Liz glanced out the
window and spotted the carcass of a squirrel in the lane across from where
they’d found Beanie.

“Hang in there, Kitty,” Liz whispered. “We’re gonna get some
help.” Beanie’s black tail twitched slightly.

“Vet clinic?” Millie asked as she jumped into the driver’s
seat.

“Next left, 5 blocks, no lights and step on it.” Millie
gunned it and they were on their way.Two guys were outside smoking when the car
screeched to a halt. Millie jumped out, yelling, “We need help!” The assistants
recognized Beanie, one of the favorite patients of the clinic. One guy got
Beanie out of the back seat and directly into an examining room while the other
fetched the vet. Liz and Millie were hot on their heels.

“What the hell was he doing away from home?” Millie asked.

“No. The right question is ‘what the hell was my indoor cat
doing outside in the first place?’” snapped Liz. “He doesn’t go outside. Ever. Ty
knows that.”

The vet examined Beanie gently. “Internal bleeding, leg
fracture, possibly more than one, broken ribs,” he looked at his assistant.
“X-rays. Now.” Beanie was wheeled down to the X-ray room. Liz’s throat
tightened and she began to hug herself. Millie had her arm around Liz. Neither
woman said a word.

When the vet returned, his face was grim and sad. Liz knew
it was the worst. She felt the tears stinging the back of her eyes.

“Ms. Gardner, it doesn’t look good. In addition to the
fractures, his spleen is ruptured, probably damage to his liver and other major
organs.” He paused, “We can operate if we can stabilize him, but I can’t
promise you it’ll do any good.” There was a brief pause.

“Put him down.” Liz said the words almost mechanically. The
veterinarian nodded and signaled the assistant to get together the necessary
items. “Do you want to be with him?”

Liz could only nod. She and Millie followed the doctor back
to Beanie.He looked so little and helpless on the X-ray table. Two legs were
splinted and an IV had been inserted to try to stabilize him if Liz had opted
for surgery.

Liz felt like she was betraying her best friend. He had
asked so little, but given so much and she was ending his life. She stroked his
head and he tried to wag his tail and purr. The vet inserted a syringe, pushed
the plunger and Beanie’s breathing stopped.

“Take her out front. Now.”

Millie firmly guided Liz back to the lobby, Liz sagging
against her friend. Something splashed against Liz’s face. Millie was quietly
crying.

“Phone.” Millie handed Liz her wireless. Liz took a deep
breath, slowly exhaled and dialed the house.

“’Lo?” Ty’s voice was thick, indistinct.

“It’s me, Babe,” Liz was surprised she sounded normal. “Miss
me?”

“Course I do,” Ty answered, “When you comin’ home?” His
normally clear speech was slurred. She’d never heard him sound this bad.

“How’s Beanie? You remember to feed the kitty?” Liz held her
breath against the answer. The desk assistant at the clinic was typing up the
bill.

“Emergency visit, X-rays, intravenous,” she recited as she
typed. The girl squinted at the last word. “What’s that word?”

Liz put her hand over the phone. “Euthanasia. 12 pounds.” She
felt a stabbing pain near her heart as she said it.

Unaware, the girl said, “Thanks” and continued typing.

“Whadja say, Liz?” Ty wanted to know. She could hear Jimmy
yelling “Ty One On!” in the background.

“I said, ‘How’s Beanie?’ Liz answered.

“I think you love him more’n you love me,” Ty grumbled, “You
didn’t ask how I am. Anyway, he’s fine. Lyin’ here so I’ll scratch his belly
for him, purrin’ his head off.” Ty was nonchalant.

“That’ll be $255.48, please,” said the desk clerk. “Oh, here.”
She handed Liz Beanie’s red collar. “Do you want the body?”

“I guess we’ve got a bad connection, Ty.” Liz turned over
the collar in her hand and shook her head at the clerk to indicate she didn’t
want Beanie’s remains.

“When you gettin’ home? We gotta celebrate,” Ty tried to put
a sexy edge on the word and failed. “Big case settled for big bucks. Yer man
done good, Woman.”

“Sounds like the party’s already started. I’ve got one or
two stops but I’ll be there as soon as I can. Bye, bye.” Ty hung up without
saying goodbye.

Liz hung up and stared at the phone. No one interrupted her
thoughts. In a few minutes, she turned to Millie. “My wallet and purse are out
in the car. Would you get them for me?” Millie nodded and headed for the car.
Liz pulled her sweatshirt back on, pausing to look at the smears of Beanie’s
blood staining the front. She turned to the desk clerk.

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