“Marilee could complicate the hell out of a lot of things. That good lookin’ little shit thinks you hung the moon, Son.”
“That’ll wear off.”
“Yeah, but right now it’s going pretty strong.”
“What can I say?” Crockett said. “Besides, at this point in time, I’m Daddy, big brother, Sir Lancelot, and Mister Non-threatening Male all rolled into one. She just came from the Hollywood environment by way of a fuckin’ Columbian drug lord, for chrissakes! How much unconditional anything you think she’s had in the past few years? That young woman is not after my alabaster body, she’s just after a little safety.”
“Sure,” Clete said. “And she needs that wherever she turns to get it. She’s been through a lot. It isn’t doing Ruby much good, though. At least she’s nice to Marilee.”
“Of course,” Crockett said. “She has to be. Ruby’s primary instinct is to give care. It’s not just what she does for a living, it’s who she is. LaCost must mother. Marilee falls right into the middle of the Mom thing. Since Ruby cannot visualize Marilee as the rotten bitch, I get to be the dirty bastard.”
“Every time Ruby sees you staring at that girl, it turns the screws a little more.”
“I know it does. I can’t help it. She is so much like her grandmother, I have to look. That’ll wear off, too. Right now, Marilee and I are fascinated by each other. That’s all it is. But Ruby is not currently equipped to see it that way. She is fully aware of how drop-dead lovely Marilee is, how young Marilee is, how vulnerable Marilee is, and how easy it would be for a dreaded man, even me, to get sucked in and take advantage of that. Plus, she’s scared I’ll find somebody who’ll behave in a manner that she believes she can’t.”
“So you two don’t...”
“Nope.”
“Jesus! Man, this is nuts! What are ya gonna do?”
Crockett emptied his cup ad stood up. “I,” he said, “am gonna get some sheets and stuff, and pull out the couch for you. You’re starting to sag, Texican.”
Clete yawned. “I need a shower,” he said.
“Upstairs and straight back. Fresh towels are in the cabinet.”
While Clete cleaned up, Crockett moved some furniture out of the way and made up his bed. He’d just finished when Clete, barefoot and in sweats, padded into the living room. Nudge leaped to the back of the couch and looked at him.
“What the hell is that cat gonna do?” Clete said.
“Probably sleep with you,” Crockett said. “He likes fresh meat.”
“Oh, fine.”
“He prefers to sleep wrapped around the victim’s head and face,” Crockett went on, turning toward the stairs. “It’s easier to suffocate his prey that way. Good luck.”
“My ass! What do I do?”
Crockett stopped on the steps and turned. “Well,” he said, “you might call him My-Itty-Bitty-Baby-Nudgie-Wudgie-Man.”
“I doubt that.”
“It works for Ruby.”
“I am sure as hell glad somethin’ does,” Clete said.
Crockett sat in the tub for a couple of hours, slept until about five, got up and got busy. He had the litter cleaned and disposed of by sunrise, and the kitchen straightened up with coffee on by six. Sausage patties were in the big skillet, his scrambled egg aggregate was waiting in the plastic pitcher, and he was sautéing shallots and garlic in the wok when Clete shuffled in, scratching his head and yawning.
“Mornin’, Cookie,” he muttered.
“Mornin’,” Crockett said. “Everthang okay down thar at the bunkhouse?”
“What time is it?”
“Almost seven. Sausage, eggs, garlic bread, and pineapple-orange smoothies for breakfast. Columbian dark-roast in the pot.”
“This Sunday?”
“Yep.”
“Good. I can kick back and get on the road tomorrow.”
“Why doncha take some time off and stay for a few days,” Crockett said. “You’re beat to shit. Stick around a while and rest. We can go watch the Royals lose. It’ll be fun.”
Clete squinted. “You lookin’ for a bodyguard, Crockett?”
“Maybe.”
“Okay. I gotta spend some time on the phone tomorrow and shift things around a little, but if the offer’s open, I’ll hang around ‘til Wednesday or Thursday.”
“Plenty of room. Why don’t you check and see if the girls want breakfast yet? Just knock on the door at the other end of the closet.”
Twenty minutes later, with the sausage sizzling nicely, the bread in the broiler, the eggs and shallots and garlic and cheese and cream and dill and chives just beginning to bubble at the edges, and the smoothies fresh from the Vita-Mixer, Les Girls wandered in from next door.
Ruby, barefoot and wearing a short gray silk robe over black tights, was perfectly made-up and looked as she usually did. Stunning. Marilee, also barefoot and swathed from neck to floor in Ruby’s huge black robe, wore no make-up, and looked like her grandmother must have when she was fifteen. As Cletus poured coffee for them, Ruby walked over and kissed Crockett on the cheek.
“Mornin’, Champ,” he said.
“How are you, Crockett?”
“Not bad. You?”
“I finally came down,” Ruby said. “I am on my ass. After breakfast, I intend to zombie out until I have to eat again, then zombie out some more.”
“Who would deserve that more than you? Get some coffee and sit. Chow in about ten minutes.”
Crockett had turned his attention to the sausage when Marilee’s voice came from behind him.
“Smells really good, Crockett. The coffee is wonderful.”
“Grab yourself a smoothie,” he said.
“Okay,” Marilee said, and wrapped her arms around Crockett from the rear, digging her chin into his spine. “How’s that?”
“Not what I meant. Behave yourself.”
“If I must,” she said, drawing away.
Crockett looked over his shoulder to see her giving Clete a hug and a kiss on the cheek before she took a seat beside Ruby. Ruby stared at him.
After breakfast, the ladies retired to Ruby’s side and Clete insisted on cleaning up the kitchen. Crockett mowed the yard and turned on the soaker hoses in the garden for a while. When he went back inside, he found the Texican asleep on the couch. Crockett went upstairs for a short nap, and didn’t wake up until nearly two that afternoon. He phoned for a couple of large pizzas and a liter of Coke, fed the troops, straightened up, and again found Clete dozing, this time in front of the TV, while he didn’t watch Crockett’s DVD of M*A*S*H. Crockett eased back in the recliner just in time to catch Ben Davidson as he spit in Radar’s ear. He re-started the movie and promptly fell asleep himself. Dinner that evening was catch as catch can. He didn’t see Ruby again until the next morning.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Marilee we roll along
Crockett didn’t get up Monday morning until nearly seven. He headed down to Napoleon Bakery, a French establishment complete with accents, to get some of their amazing almond and cherry croissants for breakfast. The joint was closed for the day. He went to the Sunfresh Market and picked up some less exotic fare for morning munch. Crockett loved to cook, but not all the time and almost never if he had to. Back at the house, the creatures were stirring when he arrived. Clete had made a pot of coffee and Ruby was jamming some banana and peach chunks she found in his freezer into the gaping maw of the Vita-Mixer. Breezing in like he owned the place, Crockett hugged and kissed Ruby good morning, hugged and kissed Marilee good morning, and bumped his eyebrows at the Texican.
“Probably not,” Clete said, and retreated to the other side of the counter.
Breakfast was a rather festive affair. Clete exposed his overnight adventures with Nudge the Wonder Cat, Marilee appeared rested and bubbly, Ruby seemed less tense and teased Cletus more than usual, and Crockett soaked it all up in the vain hope things were returning to someplace near normal.
Finishing her second croissant, Marilee s
poke up.
“I need an escort,” she said.
“Homecoming dance?” Crockett said.
Marilee wrinkled her nose. “Shopping,” she said. “I gotta get some clothes and stuff. I left everything I owned in California.”
Crockett smiled. “Ooo, ick,” he said. “Clothes shopping with a female. A fate worse than death.”
“Don’t look at me,” Clete said. “Ordinarily I’d be overjoyed to let you drag me around all day, but I got a lot a business to tend to this mornin’.”
“Me either,” Ruby said. “I have two sessions this morning, and three this afternoon. I’ve left a lot of people hanging and I have to get to work. This looks like a job for Crockett. I’m sure he’ll do his best.”
She smiled sweetly at Crockett and batted her eyes. Actually, the smile wasn’t that sweet.
“Oh, man,” Crockett complained.
“Great!” Marilee said, beaming at Crockett. “What time do the shops open?”
“How the hell do I know?”
“Ten,” Ruby said. “We’re close to where you’ll want to go. Both the Plaza and Westport are just around the corner. Everything from casual to eveningwear, wool shirts to rhinestone studded heels. Lots of places to share a nice intimate lunch. I’m positive you’ll enjoy it and I know Crockett will have a wonderful time.”
Marilee missed both levels of sarcasm that rippled through Ruby’s last line.
“Well,” she said, carrying her dishes to the sink, “I’ll pop my truck driving clothes in the washer, myself in the shower, and be back about nine-thirty. How ‘bout it, Crockett?”
“I know when I’m whipped.”
Ruby stood to leave. “Okay, Boys,” she said, “I’ll see you two later. Have fun with Marilee today, Davey. Remember to play nice.” She vanished into the closet.
Clete looked at Crockett and shook his head. “Need some help pulling that ice pick outa your chest, Son?”
“Naw,” Crockett said. “Leave it there. It’ll help me remember how much she loves me.”
Marilee attacked Westport. She flitted from place to place and Crockett caned along behind her, doubtless regarded as a kindly uncle or a lecherous sugar daddy by a varied column of salespersons, depending on which way their imaginations were bent. On their second trip to the truck to drop off booty, Marilee announced she was hungry.
“You wanna dine, or you wanna eat?” Crockett said.
“I want to eat.”
He took her to D’Bronx on Bell. She had a potato knish and some baklava, and he had two slices of Pepperoni pizza and a piece of Key Lime pie. Sipping her dessert coffee, Marilee returned his gaze from across the small table.
“You’re a wonderful man, Crockett.”
“Quiet, for chrissakes! Somebody could hear you.”
“You make jokes, you’re gruff and cynical, but you can’t hide it, you know.”
“I can’t, huh?” He smiled at her.
“Not from anybody that really looks. I want to thank you again for doing so much for me.”
“It wasn’t that selfless,” he said. “I wanted to get rid of a ghost.”
“My grandmother?”
“Yep.”
“You’re not the only one with ghosts.”
“I’m not?”
“Ruby’s got a few.”
“Ya think?”
“Sure. And you know that even better than she does. I don’t know what she’s fighting, but she’s having a rough time right now, and I’m one of the reasons.”
“You’re pretty smart for an eleven-year-old,” Crockett said.
Marilee looked at him.
“If I were twenty years older,” she said, “you wouldn’t stand a chance. I’m smart enough to know that.”
Crockett felt his ears get warm. “Thank you,” he said. “That’s the nicest compliment I’ve had in a long time. If you were twenty years older, I wouldn’t want a chance.”
They sat for a moment, enjoying each other and sharing something warm and welcoming that flickered across the table, poignant and fleeting, happy and unrelated to time. It came, it went.
Marilee flexed her torso and smiled. “That was nice,” she said.
“That was Grandma,” Crockett said.
She didn’t seem to notice the faint scent of To A Wild Rose.
Marilee and Crockett didn’t do as well on the Plaza. Kansas City’s Country Club Plaza, known far and wide for its shops and fountains, ambience and architecture, is not the most comfortable of places. Where Westport is narrow and trendy, experiential and eclectic, the Plaza is all business. Chic to the point of being slick, it has all the relaxed ambience of a theme park and wore them out in only a little over an hour. Empty-handed, they stopped at Starbucks on the way back to the truck. Quiet over her coffee, Crockett could see Marilee was marshaling her thoughts. She raised her eyes.
“Is Ruby gay?” she asked.
“Why ask me? Why not ask her?”
“’Cause you and I have a very special connection, Crockett. I can ask you anything.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Is Ruby gay?”
He smiled. “She believes she has the need to be.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Marilee said. “I don’t care if she is or not. I know a lot of girls that are gay or bi. I think it’s different for women than it is for men.”
“More of a commitment than an imperative?”
“That’s it. That’s it exactly.”
“Yeah. To answer your question, Ruby has been committed for as long as I have known her.”
“And yet you two are a couple.”
“Weird, huh.”
“Yes, especially since you’re not gay.”
“Nice of you to notice.”
“So, what’s with Ruby right now?”
“This investigation to find you brought up a lot of her own past and a lot of awareness of the patterns she expects in others and has created for herself. Some old wounds have been scratched. Plus, her feelings toward me are approaching areas in herself she believed to be neatly tucked away. How she really feels about me is challenging who she believes she is. And she sees how I look at you. Ruby has a tendency to be a little jealous. She’s feeling like a girl and she doesn’t quite know whether to run off with Rosie O’Donnell or pay a visit to the Chicago Bears.”
Marilee grinned. “So she’s having a lot of trouble with her whole gay thing, huh?”
“Not as much trouble as I have with it.”
The kid had a great chuckle.
Walking back to the truck, Marilee took Crockett’s hand.
He began to swing her arm in a wide arc. “Wanna go to the malt shop for a burger?”
Marilee giggled. “Stop,” she said. “This is our little private time and I wanna hold hands with you.”
“People will talk.”
“Fuck ‘em,” she said.
When Crockett stopped laughing, Marilee continued.
“Where do I go from here, Crockett?”
“Your parents?”
“The Walkers, the people that raised me, are dead. They were killed in a light plane crash four years ago.”
“Then you’re free to go where ever you like. The possibilities, with the exception of Los Angeles, are limitless. That said, I think Chicago would be a good choice.”
“Chicago?”
“Yep. As a matter of fact, I’ll even take you. There are some people who’d love to meet you.”
“Who?”
“Clete’s boss, the lady that brought all of this together, and the psychic that started the whole thing. They both have a vested interest in you. Without them, none of this would have ever been set in motion and you’d still be with Little Ricky.”
“God, he hated being called that.”
“Fuck him,” Crockett said.
Marilee giggled.
Crockett watched her laugh. Her beauty and that of her grandmother nearly overwhelmed him.
“You are
absolutely lovely,” he said.
“Not my fault,” Marilee said. “Evidently it runs in my family.”
They’d just unloaded Marilee’s goodies at Ruby’s around two, when Crockett’s cell phone went off.
“Crockett.”
“Where are you?” His agent, Adele.
“Bali, you bloodsucking wench.”
“I don’t know why I waste my effort on you, Crockett.”
“Greed, Sweetie. I am home.”
“’Bout time. For some reason that I cannot fathom, The Park Service has need of your meager abilities.”
“The Park Service has a lot of needs.”
“Around a forty-five minute AV voicer synched with visual and music tracks. I gotcha a hundred bucks each for the first twenty and seventy-five each for the rest of the finished minutes.”
“No shit?”
“Am I good, or what?”
“I love you. I always have. When?”
“Four o’clock this afternoon.”
“Today?”
“That’s what ‘this afternoon’ means, Dear.”
“Where?”
“Audio Post.”
“Christ. This’ll take five or six hours.”
“You got anyplace else you can clear three grand today?”
“No. That’s more than I’ll make in six months with my cheesy agent.”
“Four o’clock. Rob will be waiting for you. Kissey, kissey.”
“Thanks, Adele. I’ll get all the paperwork. ‘Bye.”
He turned to Marilee.
“That blows my big plans to take you roller skating tonight,” he said. “I have a session.”
“A session?”
“Yeah. I do voice work. I have to go record an audio-visual voice track this evening.”
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