Love You to Death

by Grant Michaels

  “Good. Get some practical use out of that aristocratic law degree. Can you call him?”

  “Now?”

  “Perry Mason wouldn’t hesitate.”

  “I’m not sure I want to use my favor yet, Stanley.”

  “Nikki, there’ll be other times you can harness your catamite for your own devices. Right now Laurett needs help.”

  “What part are you playing in this domestic drama?”

  “I promised her I’d look after Tobias until she gets out, which I hope will be tonight. I’m taking him to my place now.”

  “Why don’t you both wait here instead? That way, when Chaz gets Laurett released, he can bring her along and pick up Tobias here. We’ll all be together, at least.”

  “So, you’ll call him?”

  “For your sake, yes.”

  “And you think he’ll spring her tonight?”

  “Darling, I have complete confidence in him.”

  “Thanks, doll.”

  Then, in her usual manner, Nicole hung up without saying good-bye.

  I called a cab, which was a fifty-fifty proposition in Laurett’s neighborhood. Fifty-percent chance they won’t stop when they see where the address is, fifty-percent chance they won’t show up at all.

  I woke Tobias up and calmly explained that we were going to wait at Nikki’s place until his mother came to get him, kind of like a late-night adventure. I left him to put on his clothes—he’s already that independent—while I went to the kitchen to find the money Laurett had mentioned. I didn’t intend to use it, but I figured it would be better to take anything valuable—or suspicious—out of Laurett’s place before the police arrived and searched the premises. Being a Gemini, my hands are pretty clever, but I couldn’t figure out how to get the damn cabinet door open. After a brief but noisy battle with the childproof locks, I heard Tobias say behind me, “You want Ma’s money can?”

  “Uh, yeah, Tobias.”

  “I’ll do it.” In a simple grip and twist motion, supposedly possible only by adult hands, Tobias flicked the latch and opened the cupboard door. He crawled in and got the can of Drano.

  “Be careful, Tobias. That’s poison.”

  “Not this one.” He opened the can—another so-called childproof container—and shook out a fat roll of twenty-dollar bills. “It’s Ma’s money,” he said with a self-satisfied grin.

  I took the money and jammed it into my pocket. Then I went to the telephone table and searched for where the chocolate might be hidden, the stuff Laurett had mentioned. After a few minutes of futile searching, Tobias asked what I was looking for. When I hesitated to tell him, he exclaimed, “I know! I bet I know! The chocolate!” Then he showed me a small, concealed hatchway in the floor under the telephone stand. I’d have never found it on my own so quickly. As he pulled two boxes of chocolate truffles out from the cache underneath, he explained, “Ma’s afraid they’ll find out she took it and didn’t pay for it. She thinks I don’t know.”

  I asked him, “Did you eat any?”

  “No. Ma keeps count.”

  I felt those facts clink and tumble their way into my Slavic data bank.

  The last thing was to pack some clothes for him. If Charles was as good as Nicole predicted, none of this preparation would be needed, since Laurett would be released that night. But I reminded myself to expect nothing and be surprised.

  I bundled Tobias up warmly, and we waited for the cab to honk its horn for us. Mercifully, it arrived shortly.

  Nicole’s penthouse suite at Harbor Towers has a panoramic view of Boston Harbor and the best angle of the downtown skyline. How she affords such a place is one of Nikki’s unshared confidences, even with me. Perhaps someday I’ll earn the right to know.

  It was after eleven o’clock when I got there. She opened the door to greet me, but was taken aback by my burden, arms heavy-laden with a sleeping Tobias along with two boxes of chocolate truffles and a small suitcase with Tobias’s clothes. As I struggled through the doorway, she placed her glass of champagne on a small Hepplewhite table in the foyer.

  “What a lot of stuff!” she exclaimed. “Give him to me, Stani.”

  As she tried to lift the sleepy four-year-old from my arms, Tobias stirred lightly and said, “Ma?”

  Nicole grimaced at his choice of words. “No, dear. It’s Nicole. You remember me, don’t you? From the shop.”

  “Ma?” repeated Tobias.

  Nicole let go of him and took the chocolate from me instead. “Maybe I’m better off with these,” she said, as she opened one of the boxes.

  “No!” I yelped. “Don’t touch them.” My voice caused Tobias to stir in my arms. With exaggerated caution, Nicole closed the box she’d opened, then she replaced both of them back on top of Tobias in my full arms.

  “Fine, darling,” she said sulkily. “You take care of everything yourself.” She picked up her glass of champagne and sauntered back to her place on the huge, custom-made sofa, a perfect hexagon upholstered in pink shantung and sized to fill most of the sunken living room. After a quick sip she added, “If you want coffee or a drink, you know where everything is.”

  “Nikki, please don’t get contrary. I’ll explain why in a minute. Can you just take the boxes so I can put this boy to bed?”

  She reluctantly got up again and did what I asked.

  “And while I dump the kid, you can dump some Irish whiskey in a mug and add a splash of that fresh-brewed coffee I smell in the kitchen. Please?”

  Nicole nodded.

  I took Tobias to the guest bedroom and put him under the covers. I didn’t bother undressing him since I still assumed that Laurett would be picking him up later. I went to the kitchen where Nicole had prepared my strong Irish coffee.

  She handed me the hot mug and said, “I called Chaz right after I talked with you. He said he’d go to the station and find out what Laurett needed.”

  “The only thing she needs is out,” I said, then took a big gulp of the coffee and burned my mouth. “Yow!”

  “Too hot, darling?”

  “Unlike the last man I dated—six months ago.”

  “Darling, for once can you forget about your barren love life? I doubt Laurett is thinking about hers tonight.”

  “She may be, Nikki. I think that was her lover who was poisoned. I’m almost sure he was the same guy who used to bother her off and on for the whole two years she worked in the shop.”

  Nicole thought a moment, then frowned. “I remember the one you mean, and he was quite a pest. Things got very unpleasant between them.”

  “Unpleasant, yes, but would Laurett have killed the guy?”

  “Never underestimate a woman’s survival instinct.”

  “I can’t believe she’d kill anyone. Though if I think about my great love and how it went wrong, and how I used to ponder ways to kill him …”

  “Stani, we’ve all had thoughts like that.”

  “I know, and some people act on them. Which reminds me—those chocolates.”

  “The sacred ones I couldn’t touch?”

  “Right. They were hidden at Laurett’s apartment. She asked me to get rid of them, since she knew the police would be searching her place.”

  “What’s the big deal?”

  “They look like truffles from Le Jardin. According to Tobias, she took them without paying.”

  “So? I should think any chocolate company would at least let its employees eat the goods.”

  “I agree, which is what makes her wanting to hide them suspicious.”

  “Stanley, you make it sound as though Laurett might actually be guilty of something.”

  “Nikki, that guy was dead,” I said and gulped some more coffee. My scalded mouth felt no further pain now. “What does Charles think?”

  Nicole paused. Then she made a pronouncement. “Darling, he prefers Chaz.”

  “I know what he prefers, but he is not a Chaz. He’s a Charles—a Char-rulls, to be exact.”

  Nicole ignored my opinion, as she usuall
y did. “As I predicted, Chaz thinks there’ll be no trouble in getting Laurett released tonight. In fact, he’s certain.”

  “He always is.”

  “He’s a Harvard graduate.”

  “They’re programmed to be certain.”

  “Just accept help when it’s given. I told him to bring her here directly from the police station.”

  “Let’s hope he can deliver what he promises, and that I packed Tobias’s clothes in vain.”

  “You’ll be eating humble pie when Chaz brings Laurett here later. I guarantee she’ll be home with her boy tonight.”

  As if on cue, the doorbell sounded. Nicole went to answer it, and I followed. It was Charles. And no Laurett.

  Nicole stood with him in the foyer while I retreated quietly back into the living room, out of sight. Charles doesn’t like me much and the feeling is mutual, but I didn’t want to jeopardize any help he might be to Laurett. Charles was, at that moment, Laurett’s savior, so I kept myself invisible and eavesdropped on them from the living room. After some sexy sweet talk that implied he’d done Nicole’s bidding and wasn’t he a good boy, Charles explained callously that Laurett had been charged with voluntary manslaughter, that she’d deliberately given the strange man some poisoned chocolate, if not to kill him, then at least to make him violently ill. She was being held at the WDU, the Women’s Detention Unit. Bail was set at two-hundred-fifty-thousand dollars.

  “What!” I said.

  When Charles heard me, he murmured something unintelligible to Nicole, who giggled in response. Then I heard kissing sounds coming from the foyer. More murmurs, more giggles now from both of them. Then they walked into the living room. Foreplay interruptus.

  Charles was tall, sandy-haired, blue-eyed, clean-shaven, tanned, toned, and trim. In fact, I hated him for being so attractive and so self-assured. Wasn’t there a single molecule of doubt lingering anywhere within his arrogant body? And what did Nikki see in him? Was it purely physical?

  He nodded toward me, but gave no verbal greeting. I didn’t deserve any in his eyes, being an invert. We’d met before, at the shop, where Charles had come in for a manicure. That’s also when he met Nicole. The rest is recent history.

  Nicole asked him, “Chaz, darling, what’s to be done next?”

  He replied brusquely, “Investigation, indictment, trial, and verdict.” How simple life was for a smart young attorney, where everything could be put into order with four words. Nothing like the world of, say, the hair stylist, who has to deal with variables like color, texture, moisture content, growth pattern, and curl line, along with the two most unpredictable ones of all: the client’s obscure self-image combined with the fickleness of fashion.

  Nicole told Charles that Tobias was there with us, that he was fine, and that I would take care of him until Laurett was released.

  “Not good,” said Charles. “He should be in court custody unless someone else is named legal guardian.”

  “Laurett’s a friend,” I said.

  “And the law’s the law,” he replied, reminding me of Branco’s kind of logic and also proving that cops and lawyers come from the same factory, the lawyers playing the CEO’s and the cops working the assembly line.

  Charles said to Nicole, “I thought I might stay a while, but since you have company …”

  Was that a sneer on his face?

  Nicole led him back out to the door, explaining, apologizing, that she and I had things to talk about, and she’d call him later. I wondered, Later when?

  He finally left, and I felt something was amiss. Laurett couldn’t have killed another person. It was that simple, in spite of Nicole’s theory about the female survival instinct. More urgent, however, was that Tobias needed care and a place to stay until his mother was cleared of the absurd accusation.

  “I guess he was wrong, eh, doll?”

  “Explain yourself, Stanley.”

  “Earlier tonight both you and he were certain that Laurett would be released. Now they’ve booked her. And what’s to be done with Tobias until she’s acquitted?”

  “You heard him. Chaz thinks he should be placed in the custody of the court.”

  “And I think that’s betraying a friend. Nikki, it’s for Laurett. She’s in trouble. She worked with us for over two years. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

  “It means she did her job well and I paid her. Technically the arrangement doesn’t go beyond that. I’m not running that salon to bestow gifts on the troubled and needy.”

  “But doesn’t all that time spent together—”

  “All in the past, Stanley. Besides, it was all time spent on the job. Unlike you, I don’t become personally involved with anyone I work with. Sentimentality and business don’t mix.”

  “You got friendly with me.”

  “You are the notable exception to my rule.”

  “Any regrets?”

  “Daily.”

  “Friendships can end too.”

  “Not ours, Stanley. We’re star-crossed. If you’d been straight or I a man—”

  “We’d probably have a split-level home somewhere with a beauty shop attached, along with two dogs, a cat, a station wagon, two VCRs, a satellite antenna—”

  “We’d probably be divorced by now too.”

  “I’d have contested,” I said. Then I raised my coffee mug in a toast. “Here’s to fairies and fag-hags,” I said, “and may their friendships endure.”

  Nicole replied, “I’d prefer different labels, but I’ll drink to the thought.”

  We sat quietly a moment, allowing the alcohol to work.

  I thought of Nicole and Charles and their romance, and about my arid love life and about being alone so much. I said, “Perhaps Tobias and I should stay here tonight. He’s been through quite a bit already, and you have lots of room.”

  Nicole cocked her head. “Yes, I do, Stanley.” She usually used my full name to imply seriousness. She sipped champagne and continued coolly, “But there’s no need to make sleeping arrangements with it.”

  “But aren’t we kind of obligated to take care of him? Think of the times he used to be in the shop and would pick up rollers and combs that fell from my station.”

  “From your station, dear. He was always in the way for me.”

  “But this is different. His mother’s in jail.”

  “Stanley, I’m afraid this is your decision.”

  “But I can’t do it alone. Couldn’t we set up a schedule so that you get him sometimes too?”

  “I have no desire for a child.”

  “But it’s only temporary, and you’ll get to savor the thrill of parenthood for a brief time.”

  “But, but, but, Stanley. What is it about the word ‘no’ you don’t understand? I’m not interested.”

  “But think of how it will help with the customers.”

  That remark caught her attention. With the mention of the business, I sensed her resistance drop a notch, so I pursued it. “Nikki, when they talk about their kids, now you’ll have firsthand experience to counter with.”

  “You’re wrong there. The competition among professional parents regarding their children is fierce, not the homespun cottage industry you make it out to be.”

  “Doll, the only serious competition left in this city is the orchid exhibition at Horticultural Hall.”

  “I maintain the boy is yours and yours alone.”

  “Please …?” I whined.

  “Don’t whine. You know I detest that.”

  “Okay, okay. No whining.” So I pouted.

  “And don’t pout.”

  “Nikki, I’ll use whatever works. I’m desperate.”

  “You’re not desperate. You’re manipulative.”

  “I’m charming.”

  “On second thought, maybe you are desperate.”

  “Nikki, what if you just take Tobias some of the time? How about every other day?”

  She sighed in exasperation. Then she finished her champagne and said, “All right, here
is what I will agree to.” She paused to light a new cigarette before stating her terms. Big moment. Light change. “On the days you work at the shop, Tobias can be there as well, for both of us to look after. Two evenings a week I will entertain him, though not overnight. For the remaining time he’s yours.”

  “But then I get no nights without him.”

  “That’s true, but what else would you be doing anyway?”

  “That’s low, doll. Just because you have a hot young lover doesn’t mean the rest of the world is sitting around tatting shade pulls.”

  “Caring for Tobias wasn’t my idea, Stanley. My offer stands. Take it or leave it.”

  I groaned. “It’s as conditional as a limited warranty but I guess it’s a deal. You don’t much like kids, do you?”

  She answered, “You’ll soon discover why.” Then she extinguished her cigarette with meticulous precision and stood up. “I think we’ve done just about all we can tonight.”

  “Is that my cue to take Tobias and go?”

  “If you wouldn’t mind. Chaz did want to come by for a while. I’ll pay your cab fare home.”

  “I accept the bribe. Far be it for me to encroach on a friend’s sex life.”

  Nikki called a cab while I once again donned my winter garb and wrapped the sleeping Tobias up warmly. Arms full again, I left her place. In one night, without warning, during what had started out as a party, I’d become a single parent. And I sensed the beginnings of a rift with my best friend.

  Home is a fifth-floor walk-up on Marlborough Street in the Back Bay. It’s a spacious one-bedroom apartment with a bay window facing the street, a working fireplace, a huge bathroom with the original marble tiles intact, a sliver of the Charles River from my bedroom window, and rent control. The place has been slated for mondo-condo conversion for years, but we tenants are no fools. We’ve exercised our renter’s rights and retained our homesteads. So what if I have to walk up four long flights of stairs every night? I’ve got good legs anyway. And that night I needed them, with all I had to carry.

  When I opened the door, I expected the usual greeting by my roommate, Sugar Baby, a taupe-colored Burmese cat almost the same caramel color as her candy namesake. Instead of a trill and a chirp, though, she bristled and ran away when she saw Tobias in my arms.