Shattered Glass(37)
I laughed. “I think you taught me well, beautiful. But admit you forgave me because I sent the can of fermented herring.”
“Yes, this was very kind. But I think Dave will not talk to you after I open it.”
“For your love, I’d do anything, Marta.” I heard a mild scuffle over the phone, and the sound of lips smacking in a kiss.
“Are you quoting Oliver Twist to my wife?”
“I think that was just Oliver,” I smiled.
“You know she won’t let me ban you from the house for sending her that foul smelling crap. But I insist you be there for its opening.”
“Oh, wow. I’d love to, but I’m busy.”
“I haven’t told you when yet, man.”
“I’m monumentally busy. Weddings to break up, boys to chase, cases to solve. Busy, busy.”
“I heard.” The tone got serious faster than I was ready for. I pulled off the road into a parking lot and leaned my head back on the seat.
“Angel called Marta?”
“Marta first, then me. Wanted to know if I knew what instigated it.” I checked out the park across the street. Watched a couple of toddlers bounce on the rides. Would I ever have kids? “Do I?” He added.
“Last month, Luis and I are part of the sweep of the meth house on 19th Street, near the old hospital. You know it?”
“I heard something about it. Dead kid in the back room.”
“Not in the back room. In the backyard. Used his belt to hang himself in the tree. Seventeen years old.” Silence. “You there?”
“Yeah.”
“How’d we go eight years not talking about this? Not thinking about him at all?”
My father was always a lost cause. Telling him today wasn’t even that satisfying. Especially since I felt like I had lost Angelica at this point, and now I was risking the loss of Dave, too. I had even fucked up with Luis. Slowly peeling my life apart helped me realize how lonely and afraid Jesse must have been.
“This isn’t something we should talk about over the phone, Oz.”
“Did you hate him because of that kiss?”
“Shit no! We were cool after that. He made a pass, I said no, it was over. I loved him. You know that. Christ, we’d been friends since we were ten. Just. Goddamn that asshole. We laughed about the fucking kiss.”
“And then you told him I was gay,” I accused.
“Oz, sometimes it’d take a snap of my fingers at your fucking nose to stop you from staring at him.”
My laugh broke on a wrecked sob. I quickly stifled it all. When I had control again I answered. “I counted every freckle on his nose that first summer.”
Another beat of silence, and then we both breathed out in frustration and relief. “You want Jake’s and Terry’s new number?” Dave asked.
“Okay,” I sighed. A few seconds later I heard a beep announcing a text on my phone.
“I wasn’t mad about the gay shit, Oz. I was pissed at what he did, not who he was.”
Too much angst. I needed a break. “Angelica said she wouldn’t march in the gay parade for me.”
“Are you asking me to be your fella for the gay prom?”
“That’s like the worst impression of a woman in the history of mankind.”
“Do me a favor, Oz?”
“Sure?”
“Don’t ask them about ass-sex when they answer the phone. Marta feels guilty when you have no friends to visit.”
“No on the ass-sex. Check.”
“Next week, Jays vs Sox?”
“My place, bring beer. Laters.” Huh. No lecture?
I checked my phone and debated calling Jake and Terry. But I didn’t know them that well, and I had no idea how to be gay around gay people. Was I supposed to develop an interest in shopping and Cher? Right now all I wanted to do was go home and watch some sports and do my second pastime: first person shooter video games. So that’s what I did.
Chapter Seven
Thirteen Years Too Long
Why has it never been said in the history of the world that Thursdays suck? Thursdays are that awful place between halfway done and can’t quite see the finish line yet. Thursday morning, stuck in the evidence room, again, with Luis—who had decided he was done bitching at me and would just heretofore grunt all responses. I was in a rotten mood. I was pissed at myself for making a date on Saturday. Seriously. Saturday? What was I fucking thinking? Like the anticipation between now and then was a good thing?
“There’s nothing new in these boxes.” I kicked one and sent it skittering by Luis’s foot. He fielded it with his shoe and then shoved it back.
“Right now you’ll sit there and look through these boxes while I try to figure out if I’m going to the captain to request your removal from this case. The less time we’re searching through evidence, the more I’m inclined to head to his office. It’s your call.”