These Foolish Things (8 page)

Ty looked at her intently, amusement and something else in
his eyes. Something that made Liz want lean across the table and kiss him. Under
the table, she dug her nails into the palms of her hands to control herself.
She could feel herself beginning to shake again.

“So, Liz. Why did you kiss me?”

The question caught her completed off guard. She didn’t have
a ready-made answer for that one.

Liz stared at her dinner plate. She couldn’t look at his
face. “I guess it was the head injury you’d just inflicted on me. Sorry about
that.”

Ty’s answer surprised her. “No apology necessary.”

Ty’s cell phone rang again and he excused himself to go
talk. Liz pressed her hands to her face, feeling the heat in her cheeks.

They continued to play “Either Or” throughout the rest of
the meal, some answers providing jumping-off points for conversation.

Marc brought around the dessert tray. “Tonight we have
chef’s special tiramisu for the gentleman and pear and Stilton tart for the
lady. Chef says he wants Miss Gardner’s opinion on the tart.”

Ty pushed his dessert plate towards Liz. “Care to taste it?”

Liz laughed softly. “No, thank you. I make the same thing,
but mine is better, I guarantee it.”

“I’ll have to find out sometime,” said Ty. He was looking
into Liz’s eyes. She thought she saw his hand start to move towards hers, but
stop.

The sun began to set. The light changed from yellow gold to
a deeper, more orange shade. A pianist had begun to play requests, singing old
standards in a warm, honeyed soprano.

Ty was in the middle of a story when Liz heard the opening
bars of “At Last” coming from the piano. She had been leaning on her elbow,
chin in hand, looking at Ty when the song started and found herself focusing
intently on his eyes. They were expressive and warm and she found her mind
wandering while gazing into their depths. Liz thought that, with the light and
life animating them, she could also see pain from old, unhealed wounds. She
thought she would gladly and willingly heal that pain, given the chance. A
bigger, more logical thought crossed her mind right behind it: nobody asked you
to and it’s not a good bet that you will be asked.

“…and I just made it over the fence before he got there,” Ty
finished his story. He listened for a moment, lifting his drink to his lips.

“‘At Last,’” he said to himself, “one of my favorites.”

“Mine, too,” said Liz. “I love the standards.”

Ty looked at her, eyebrows up. “Really?” he asked, “we seem
to have a lot in common.”

He looked at his watch. The sun had set and the darkness was
thickening. Liz could see the first stars emerging.

“Did you make a wish?” Ty asked with a smile.

Liz came back to earth. “No, too many of them out there now.”
She was lying, but she wasn’t going to admit to anyone, including herself, what
that wish had been.

Ty glanced at his watch again. See? she told herself. He’s
looking to end this.

“We have time. Relax.” He leaned back in his chair and
sipped some coffee. The pianist finished playing “Sophisticated Lady” to a
smattering of applause and launched into a slow rendition of “These Foolish
Things”.

“Time before what?” Liz asked.

“The second set at Regattabar,” Ty answered. “You did bring
your ticket didn’t you?”

Liz nodded, somewhat surprised.

“Good,” he continued. “I had my secretary get one for me,
too. This woman is good,” he gestured towards the piano. “but, Diana Krall is
something else.”

Liz nodded agreement. The silence fell again, only this
time, it was Ty who ended it.

“How’d you break your leg?” he asked.

“I beg your pardon?” Liz asked.

“You mentioned that you had broken your leg as a child, but
you never said how it happened,” Ty replied.

Liz toyed with the handle on her coffee cup, eyes on the
table. “I fell down a flight of stairs at school,” she answered tonelessly,
hoping this would suffice.

She glanced up. Ty was watching her face closely. “Did you
slip?” he asked quietly.

“No. I was pushed.” Liz answered. She dropped her eyes to
her coffee cup again.

“By whom?” The same quiet voice.

“One of the boys in my second grade class.”

“Why?”

Liz maintained her focus on the coffee cup. “I made the
mistake of telling him I liked him, in front of his friends, no less, and he
answered by pushing me down the stairs. It was humiliating for him to have a
loser girl show interest. I had to stay home for 4 weeks, he was expelled and
my parents sued everybody in sight.”

“Loser girl?” asked Ty.

“I lived in a different part of town from the other kids, I
read too much and too far above their level. I wasn’t one of the pretty girls.
Loser girl.” Liz’s answer was toneless. She remembered her mother’s “For God’s
sake, Elizabeth, if you don’t lose some weight, no boy is ever going to want
you! Honestly, don’t you CARE about your appearance? Do you want to be alone
the rest of your life?”

She looked up at Ty with a smile, trying to lighten the
mood. “See? There’s all this concern about kids bringing guns to school when
the real menace is the architecture.”

Ty didn’t laugh. He didn’t smile. Liz saw something in his
face tighten up and she put her hand on his. “It was a long time ago, Ty and
the kid was a kid. Really sociopathic kid, but it nothing more than a dumb kid
action.”

Ty turned his hand over to hold hers. Liz felt the thrill
again.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Liz squeezed his hand. “Don’t apologize. You didn’t do the
pushing.” She withdrew her hand and covered its shaking by two-handing her
coffee cup. The silence fell again, but this time, the vocalist filled it with
another old sweet standard.

“So you’ve had a bad string of luck in the romance
department, then?” Ty asked finally. His posture was relaxed, but Liz could see
his attention was focused. Litigation mode.

“I didn’t say that,” Liz said. She felt like she was being
cross-examined. “You know, this really isn’t a favorite topic of mine. Can we
change the subject?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Do I have to? Why do you want to know?” Liz was beginning
to feel uncomfortable.

“Well, I’m wondering why someone like you isn’t married,
engaged or involved. I didn’t hear you telling McCafferty you couldn’t go along
with this because your boyfriend would be pissed,” Ty continued calmly. Liz
noticed that he was leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, still
looking very relaxed, but also very much focused on her.

“Someone like me?”

“You’re smart, funny, very entertaining, you have excellent
taste in music.” Liz noticed he didn’t say, “You’re beautiful.” She ignored the
pang.

She tried to keep it light. “I’m waiting for Andy Garcia to
come to his senses.”

Ty chuckled. Liz continued.

“I thought the First Amendment freedom of association
argument would carry more legal weight. Anyway, you’re not married or engaged,
either. And I didn’t hear you telling McCafferty that your girlfriend would be
pissed,” Liz replied. Her words were heated, but she kept her voice low.

Ty just smiled. “The law is a jealous mistress.”

“I hate that phrase,” said Liz, attempting to deflect the
conversation. “It’s sexist for starters and implies that you are a slave to your
job.”

“So?”

“People should be more than what they do for a living,” said
Liz. “Unless, of course, you’re one of those rare and lucky individuals who
loves what he does for a living.”

“I think I am,” said Ty.

“Only ‘think’, Counselor?” Liz pounced on the opening. “You
mean you’re not sure you love your job?” Now who’s cross-examining who? she
thought.

Ty looked down at the table and started to laugh softly.
“Very well done, Counselor,” he said. “You shifted the topic and put me on the
defensive.” He looked at her. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you’d make a good
litigator.” He looked down, thoughtful.

“I can’t say I’ve had much more success with romance than
you have,” he said quietly, still looking down. “I’ve had some girlfriends, but
things didn’t work out. They never lasted more than a few months.”

“Why not?” Liz asked gently. She was surprised that she’d
actually voiced the question.

“I don’t know,” he said, “I work a lot of hours, that’s
always hard on a relationship. We’d have fun for a while, but it never lasted.
I’d have to break plans or go out of town on business. Success demands
sacrifice. I just figured that the right woman would come along and things
would fall into place. Just didn’t happen.”

“Don’t get me wrong; I have enjoyed my career as a litigator.
I like the mental challenge and the adrenaline of being in the courtroom. It’s
like playing baseball: no matter how well you play, you’re playing against
another team. On the other hand, I’m a named partner in a law firm, did it in a
fairly short amount of time and since I don’t have judicial ambitions, I don’t
see myself climbing any higher in the legal profession.” Ty shrugged. “At this
point, it’s maintenance, you know, keeping the top spot. I’ve been working so
hard for so long that it’s habit. And I don’t have much reason to break it. So,
there really isn’t much more to me than my job, I guess.”

“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business and I didn’t mean to
put you on the spot,” Liz said softly.

Ty looked at her and smiled. “Don’t apologize. You didn’t do
the pushing.” He looked at his watch again. “Why don’t we get going?” He
signaled for the bill.

“Wait a minute,” Liz looked up to see a disposable camera in
Ty’s hand. “We have to get the picture, remember?”

Liz groaned. “My eye still looks like hell. I wish it was
permissible to kick judges in the shins.”

Ty chuckled. “No, it isn’t. But you live in Salem. Can’t you
get someone to make a McCafferty voodoo doll for you?”

Liz laughed. “It’s a thought.”

As Marc the waiter came with the bill, Ty handed him the
camera and asked him to take the picture. He then came around the table to pose
with Liz, sitting very close and putting his arm around her. She felt the
warmth coming from his body and the pleasure from being so close to him. They
smiled and Marc took the picture.

Ty rose from his chair and assisted Liz in getting out of
hers. As before, he started to put his arm around Liz’s waist, but she moved
out of reach. They rode down in silence, each lost in thought. Liz could still
feel where he had touched her.

As before, Ty had Liz wait on the sidewalk as he brought the
car around. The shops were closed and it was difficult to see stars with all
the lights in Boston. A nearby florist was still open with flowers displayed on
the sidewalk. Liz walked over to admire the roses, carnations and mixed
bouquets. The lingering heat of the day brought out the scent in the flowers
and she inhaled the sweet fragrances. Liz delicately touched a rose, feeling
the smooth surface of the petal and inhaling its spicy floral fragrance. It was
a sterling silver rose, silvery lilac and wonderful to smell. Liz jumped when
she felt a hand on her shoulder.

Ty laughed.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, but you were kind of
wrapped up in stopping to smell the roses.” He took a few steps over to the
florist who was sitting on a stool reading a newspaper by the light spilling
from the shop.

Liz couldn’t hear the conversation, but within a minute, the
florist was handing her the rose she had been examining. “A pretty flower for a
pretty lady,” he said. “I have a soft spot for the sterlings myself. They’re my
wife’s favorite.”

Liz felt Ty’s hand under her elbow as he guided her to the
car. He dropped it when she visibly stiffened. As he had in Salem, Ty opened
the door and seated her before getting in himself. The engine turned over and
they were on their way to the nightclub.

“Thank you,” Liz said as she sniffed her rose. “You caught
me with one of my addictions back there.”

Ty didn’t take his eyes of the traffic as he replied,
“You’re welcome. It goes with your dress. For a minute there, I didn’t know
where you had gone. The thought crossed my mind that you’d called a cab and run
off. Then I saw you at the florist. Tell me, do you always wander off like that
on your dates? Has anyone considered a leash for you?”

“No,” was all Liz said in reply. He didn’t need to know how
seldom she dated. “Certain kinds of shops just beckon me to go browse at them.”

“Okay, so far we have florists and jewelers. Let me guess.
Pet stores, book stores and music stores.”

Liz raised her eyebrows. “Not bad. How’d you know?”

Ty waved a hand dismissively. “Elementary, my dear Elizabeth,”
and she felt a thrill as he said her name, “based on what I have observed,
you’ve got that crazy cat, so you like animals. I noticed a packed bookshelf
with a lot of titles that I like, which means you enjoy reading and I saw a
very nice stereo system with a lot of classic jazz CDs, so you’re into music.”

Liz chuckled. “I salute your powers of observation and
deductive reasoning.” And she mockingly saluted him.

“It’s why they pay me the big bucks,” he said.

“That and the fact that you win all the time,” she added.Ty
turned his head for a second to look her in the eyes. “Not all the time,” he
corrected softly. “You’ve beaten me twice and that’s about all I can stand.”

At the jazz club, they were shown to a table near the front
and the waiter asked for their order. Before Liz could answer, Ty had ordered a
bottle of very expensive champagne for them. Liz tried to protest about the
cost, but he overrode it with, “Why not? I can afford it and I want to do it.”

The show began and Liz immersed herself in listening. Diana
Krall and her combo cast a spell over the appreciative crowd. The champagne
arrived and Liz was about to have her first sip when Ty indicated he wanted to
make a toast. Leaning in close to Liz’s ear, so as not to disturb the other
customers, he whispered in her ear, “Here’s to serving a suspended sentence”
and gently touched his glass to hers.