Acquainted With the Night (9 page)

One earring, broken, lost from its mate. Useless.

She pushed everything into the trashcan with a brutal sweep, even the case. If you wanted it, she thought angrily, you should have taken it with you. You shouldn’t have just left it behind.

She opened the next drawer. It held a couple of file folders, and she put them on the desk to see if they were work files.

The first folder was labeled Personal. Alex rifled through it, and found copies of CJ’s paperwork, insurance forms, leave requests and such. She put the file in the box to take it home and shred the contents.

The second file was labeled Notes. She had just begun to open it when her cell phone rang. The number came up as Nicole’s cell phone.

“Hi,” Alex said. “What’s up?”

“Thank goodness I got you,” Nicole said briskly. “Listen, I’m stuck here at the office on some problem with a Motion to Compel. Is there any way you can pick Charlie up from after school care and take him home? I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“It’s not a problem, Nic,” Alex said, dumping the other file folder into the box. “Do you want me to feed him?”

“Oh, God, would you? That’d be great. They’ll send somebody out for sandwiches, and I can eat here if I don’t have to worry about him. Just don’t try to cook anything in my kitchen.”

“Very funny. We’ll stop on the way home.”

“Okay. Not too much junk. Try to negotiate a reasonably nutritious meal, please.”

“I’ll do my best,” Alex agreed.

She took CJ’s umbrella, and the spare jacket she had kept hanging on the back of the door, along with her gold pen and nameplate, putting them all in the box. She could finish going through the second file later—if there was something that belonged at the office, she could always bring it back.

* * *

Charlie frowned, his dark eyebrows drawing together. For a not-quite-ten-year-old, he looked gravely serious.

“Can I have a cheeseburger?” he asked.

“It’s ‘may I have a cheeseburger,’ and yes, you may. But you have to choose: soft drink or french fries. Not both.”

She met his eyes in the rearview mirror from where he was securely strapped in backseat.

“But if I get french fries,” he asked cagily, “I have to have something to drink.”

“Yep,” Alex agreed. “And it will be milk.”

The frown deepened. “I could have a milkshake,” he suggested.

“Nope. Milkshakes are desserts, not drinks, and we agreed on a popsicle later, right?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Okay. Cheeseburger and french fries.”

“Okay,” Alex said. “And we’re drinking all of our milk.”

“Are you getting milk, too?” he asked warily.

“I am, in fact,” Alex said. “Deal?”

“Deal.”

They went inside, and when he’d eaten everything, she released him to go to the attached play area, watching him climb on everything that could be climbed. He’d done the best of all of them, she thought, bouncing back from losing his father better than either she or Nicole could have hoped for. The bad dreams had been rare, and they had gone away completely, but then he hadn’t really seen much of what happened. Thank God—and CJ, she thought—for that.

She knew he missed CJ too. He didn’t always differentiate between his two aunts, not caring that Alex was the one related to him. He’d worshipped CJ, and she seemed to love him, always thinking about what he needed and cooking special things for him—his favorite chocolate chip cookies, pasta without too much garlic in the sauce.

How could you do this?
Alex asked CJ the mental question for the hundredth time.
If you were angry with me, even if you didn’t love me anymore, how could you leave everybody else you loved, people who cared about you?
Vivien, Rod and Ana Chavez, even Chad McCarthy, for God’s sake. How could you leave a ten-year-old boy who adored you without even saying goodbye to him? Because you didn’t love me anymore?

Somewhere deep within herself, Alex knew that she simply couldn’t believe that CJ had stopped loving her. It wasn’t as if they’d been distant from each other. Maybe the fight about Steph had been more serious than she thought. Maybe Alex really had driven her away somehow.

She could remember the last time they’d made love with vivid clarity. It had been a Sunday, the day after David’s funeral, and Alex had been so distraught about Nicole that CJ had come to her, the comforting caresses becoming more than that. Alex remembered lying awake in CJ’s arms for an hour afterward, feeling her skin, smelling her scent, drawing strength and peace from being her arms. She could feel CJ’s love and caring for her in every breath.

And two days later she leaves me? Was I the only one feeling our love? Was she deceiving me somehow?

She couldn’t believe it. No matter what it seemed to be, she simply could not believe it.

Chapter Nine

Alex watched as Vivien picked at her salad. It had beautifully cooked maple-cured salmon on top of it, a lovely medium rare pink, but Vivien looked only slightly more interested in her food than Alex was.

They had exchanged pleasantries, the usual lack of information about CJ and her whereabouts, and a brief discussion about their jobs. As usual, Vivien complained about the mortgage banking business, and Alex complained about how much paperwork an administrative position included.

Whatever had prompted Vivien to suggest lunch hadn’t been revealed yet, and Alex was determined to let Vivien bring it up when she was ready. She’d eaten a number of meals with Vivien over the last three years, but she couldn’t remember ever meeting with her without CJ. No, there had been the planning lunch for CJ’s surprise thirty-fifth birthday party, but they’d had plenty to talk about then.

Vivien finally looked up and said, “I really appreciate this.”

“I haven’t done anything yet,” Alex said mildly.

“You agreed to meet me,” Vivien said. “That’s something.”

Alex sat back in the booth, shaped to look like a train car seat to carry out the railway theme of the restaurant. “Vivien. If you need anything, I’ll try to help.”

Vivien gave her a sharp look. She had her shiny black hair pulled back today, and was wearing what was for her casual Saturday clothes: designer jeans (although Alex had no idea which designer), and a deep purple sweater that looked like cashmere. Alex was sure the matching purple pumps with the two-inch heels were designer, too, since Vivien and CJ had shared a passion for beautiful—and expensive—footwear.

“You don’t have to be nice to me,” Vivien said suddenly. “I mean, just because of CJ.”

The remark surprised Alex. She answered, “It’s not like I’m making a big sacrifice, Vivien. I like you. And even if I didn’t, CJ loved you, and that’s a good enough reason for me to help you if I can.”

She watched as Vivien looked away and blinked hard.

“Fuck,” Vivien muttered. “I really miss her, Alex.”

“I know.”

She shot her dark gaze back to Alex’s face and said, “I used to be jealous, you know. I’m way past that now, but I was for a while.”

“I understand,” Alex said gently. “I just assume every woman I met had a little crush on her.”

Vivien gave her the sharp look again and said, “Jesus, I wasn’t jealous of
you
. CJ and I worked out the ‘we’d be terrible as lovers’ issues years ago. No, I was jealous of her. Well, both of you really.”

Alex frowned into her soup. Was Vivien, after all this time, making a real pass at her?

Vivien sighed and said, “I just—I was a little jealous that she finally found somebody to love her the way she deserved to be loved, you know? But I was really happy for her, too. She was so happy with you, Alex. So…I don’t know, it was like somebody finally turned on the big light inside of her and let it shine out.” She mangled a piece of salmon with her fork and said, “Christ on a surfboard, I sound like an idiot. What the fuck happened, Alex? Why the hell did she take off and leave both of us?”

Alex knew the questions were rhetorical. There had been an unpleasant conversation between them that first week after CJ left, with Vivien screaming at Alex, demanding to know what she’d done to drive CJ away. She’d apologized later, more than once. Alex had forgiven her without a qualm. She’d had her own share of irrational anger, some of it lingering still. A part of her was so angry with CJ that she wondered how long it would take for that forgiveness to come.

“I have no idea why she left,” Alex answered. “God, I wish I did know.”

They ate in silence for a minute, until Vivien said, “Look, I need your advice. Like I told you on the phone, I’d ask CJ if she were here, but you’re the only other person I know who might even begin to understand.”

Alex pushed her soup bowl away and said, “Okay. I’m listening.”

Vivien took a deep breath, and then asked, “Do you remember the blond bartender, the one I hired for the party at my house the night you had your accident last March?”

Alex searched her memory for a moment, then said, “I do, actually. She drove you over to pick up CJ’s car, didn’t she?”

Vivien brightened. “Yes, that’s right. That’s the night we met. Her name is Marja Erickson.”

“You’re still seeing her?” Alex tried to keep the shock out of her voice, but Vivien laughed.

“Yeah, I know. You’re thinking about calling the Guinness people to find out if my dating the same woman for a whole year is a new record. Well, let me tell you—it sure as hell is.”

“I’m not sure what to say,” Alex said. “Congratulations?”

Vivien held up one hand. “Too soon, I think. Anyway, that’s what I need to ask you about.”

“Okay,” Alex said, puzzled.

“How—” Vivien took a deep breath and began again. “How do you know if you’re in love? I mean, really love, not all that other stuff, like lust and friendship and all the crap people think is love.”

“Vivien,” Alex said, trying to get over her shock. “You’re in love with this woman?”

“Oh, fuck. How the hell would I know? That’s what I’m asking you.”

“I have no way on earth of knowing whether you’re in love with her or not. I don’t know you well enough to tell and I don’t know her at all. How could I possibly help you with this?”

Vivien put her fork down and sighed. “Just tell me what it was like for you. How did you know CJ was the right woman? Or are you doubting that now?”

Alex looked away across the restaurant. There were a lot of couples, a few looking happy, others just bored. There was a group of women at one table, celebrating a birthday or a shower or something. Two men sat at another table, and something about them told Alex they were more to each other than just friends.

Was she doubting that CJ was the right woman, that she had ever been the right person for her? She certainly helped Alex come to peace with her attraction to women, a long struggle fueled by a Catholic upbringing and a bad early marriage. Because of CJ, Alex knew, with complete certainty, that if she could ever fall in love with someone again, it would be with a woman.

“I’m not doubting how I felt about CJ,” she answered the question. “Maybe I’m doubting whether I was right for her. I’m angry, I’m hurt, I’m really confused, but I haven’t stopped loving her. I knew then, and I know now, that she was the right person for me.”

“But how did you know?” Vivien pressed her. “I know CJ, and it had to be more than great sex.”

Alex felt herself flush a little, but answered, “I don’t know about anybody else, but I think we had great sex because we were in love, not the other way around.”

“I get that, but what was it? Help me out here, Alex. Sometimes I look at Marj and I think I’m already there, other times I just want to jump in my car and run away.”

Alex flinched involuntarily, and Vivien exclaimed, “Oh, fuck! I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Look, I don’t know what to tell you. I could tell you all those things from romance novels, that looking at her made my heart beat faster, that I thought about her all the time, that I would have driven a thousand miles just to hear her laugh. I could give you a list of things I loved about her, but it wasn’t really any of that that made me sure I loved her. It was—”

“What?”

“It was how she made me feel about myself,” Alex answered slowly. “It wasn’t just how I felt about her, but how I felt about me, about us. She made me stronger, more caring. She both accepted me for who I was, completely, and at the same time made me want to be a better person. The day early on when I thought I’d disappointed her, that I’d lost her forever, I was frantic. That’s when I knew, for certain, that I loved her. When I looked into her eyes and saw the rest of my life, I knew.”

It was Vivien’s turn to look across the restaurant thoughtfully. Alex said softly, “Why don’t you tell me about her?”

“We don’t have anything in common,” Vivien began with a sigh. “She grew up on some ranch somewhere down in southeastern Colorado, which is a long way from San Francisco. She’s tending bar to work her way through graduate school. Get this, she wants to be a social worker, can you believe that? She’s out to her friends, but not to her family, and she’s only twenty-eight. Fuck the casbah, what am I thinking?”

Alex said, “You’re giving me a biography, not telling me about her. What’s she like?”

“Oh,” Vivien said, and Alex watched her typically cynical expression soften. “She’s—I guess you’d say she’s the strong, silent type. Kind of butch, the best kind, really, really thoughtful. She doesn’t talk a lot, but she loves to read. When I’ve had a bad day, she’ll just sit there and read and let me calm down until I’m ready to talk, then she’ll listen to whatever bullshit I’ve got to say. If she gets home before I do, she’ll make dinner. I mean, she’s not an awesome cook like CJ, but she makes stuff I like.”

“Wait,” Alex interrupted. “You’re
living
with her?”

Vivien, who could discuss cunnilingus in a crowded public elevator without a qualm, actually blushed.

“Well. Yes. It was stupid for her to pay rent on her apartment when her money is tight, and she was at my house every night anyway. And before you say anything, she’s not after me for my money. She pays me every month, expenses, and goes grocery shopping. She takes the light rail to school, that kind of thing.”