Oil & Vinegar

by Mairsile Leabhair

  “You’ve been in that situation before, haven’t you?”

  “Oh, yeah. The different agencies don’t like giving up their evidence or their cases to another agency. We’re very territorial that way, and it can cause problems at times. I asked Agent Alcabú what evidence she had that pointed to Senator Peterson, and she sat there and told me she couldn’t divulge that information. And yet she had the balls to ask for the memory cards. Total bullshit.”

  Connie turned in her seat and checked on Bubbles, who was in her pet carrier in the back seat. Then she sat back and looked at me.

  “It sounds like you admired her.”

  “Ha! I don’t think so,” I scoffed. “She’s arrogant and evasive, and not willing to meet me halfway. I do have a feeling we’ll meet up again, though.”

  ***

  The next few hours went by rather quickly. Connie and I talked almost the entire flight. I think she was trying to keep me occupied. We talked, we laughed, we really bonded on a different level than I had ever expected. It wasn’t sexual or provocative. It wasn’t strained or forced. It was one friend telling another friend about herself. I was hesitant to talk about my dad because Connie had seen her father murdered. I could only imagine how deep that wound ran. But Connie asked questions about my favorite activity with my dad, and when I said working on cars, she asked what we talked about while we worked. I was amazed. It was like she knew the car itself wasn’t the important part. As worried as I was about my dad, talking about him with Connie really relieved some of my anxiety.

  The last thirty minutes of the flight, Connie fell asleep on my shoulder, as innocent as an angel. I maneuvered my arm behind her shoulders and drew her in. It was the most natural and warmest feeling I’d ever had with a woman. I kissed the top of her hair, smelling her conditioner, a mixture of honey and coconut that reminded me of a tropical beach on a beautiful sunny day. I wished I could take her there now. She snuggled into me and draped an arm across my stomach. I picked up her delicate hand and held it in mine.

  The flight attendant announced that we should prepare for landing and the spell was broken.

  “Are we there yet?” she mumbled sleepily.

  “Almost. Did you have a nice nap?”

  She looked up at me and realized she was lying on me. “Oh, sorry,” she said, sitting up.

  The desire to pull her back to me was almost overwhelming. “Yeah, well, I’m not sorry.”

  Once we landed, I carried her bag with mine and she carried the pet carrier with Bubbles bellyaching inside. She was hungry. We stopped at the nearest bench inside the terminal so Connie could feed the cat. Is this what it would be like to have children? After the cat had her fill, we walked outside into the very warm Miami weather and hailed a cab.

  “Driver, we’re going to Mt. Sinai…” I looked at Bubbles sitting on the seat between Connie and me and knew we wouldn’t get very far at the hospital with a cat in tow. “Driver, we want to go to the closest hotel to Mercy Mt. Sinai Hospital.”

  The cab driver, an older fella with gray hair and sun-wrinkled skin, pulled out a map from his sun visor and studied it a minute.

  “And we’re on a tight budget,” I added. “Oh, and they have to be pet-friendly.”

  He nodded and continued looking at his map. I could see different places circled on his map using different color codes. No doubt he’d done this before.

  “There’s the Croydon, on Collins Avenue. It’s about six minutes from the hospital and under two hundred dollars.”

  “Perfect. Take us to that one, please.”

  “Buckle up,” he said as he slid the map back on the visor then hit the gas.

  Connie put her seatbelt on and then looked at me. “We’re not going to your parents’ house?”

  “There won’t be any room for us there. My one brother, Hank, lives in Miami, but my other brother and my sister are flying in and most likely will stay with Mom. So, I’m going to get you and the cat set up at the hotel and then go to the hospital.”

  “Not without me, you’re not. It’ll take me two minutes to set up Bubbles’ cat litter, food, and water.”

  Sheepishly smiling, I said, “Thanks, I was kind of hoping you’d come to the hospital with me.”

  “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” she replied, patting my hand.

  She started to move her hand away, and I grabbed it and held it, gazing at her for a long time, wishing… wishing things were different. Her eyelashes fluttered over her beautiful blue eyes as she returned my gaze. With her red hair, short and softly framed around her face, her blue eyes seemed illuminated from within. She seemed to be glowing, like a magical elf in a fairy tale, and I wanted nothing more than to bask in her glow. It took a few minutes to realize that she wasn’t wearing her hazel contacts, but at the moment, I was too grateful to care.

  It was late by the time we got squared away at the hotel and on our way to the hospital. Dad would be having surgery in a couple of hours, and I was anxious to see him before he went in. We were stopped in the front lobby by a security guard. It was 3:30a.m., too early for the morning shift to be on duty, so security manned the front desk. He asked who we were there to see and I showed him my deputy ID, explained that I was on duty and carrying a weapon, then I told him about my father having surgery. He looked at me quizzically for a moment, then he checked the computer in front of him and gave us Dad’s room number. If he was in a room that meant he hadn’t had a full-blown heart attack... yet. Mom was a little sketchy on the details, and I had been in too much of a rush to get here to ask questions.

  We took the elevator to the third floor, and I tapped very lightly on the door, but no one answered. We tiptoed into the darkened room and found Mom sleeping in the chair and Dad watching TV without the sound.

  “Can we come in?” I whispered, walking up to his bed.

  He looked pale and gaunt, but that could have just been the flickering glare from the television. Yeah, I’ll go with that excuse.

  “Hey, kid. I was waiting for you,” Dad said, sending a chill down my spine.

  “I’m here, why the hell are you?”

  “Your mother and I were playing nurse-doctor in bed and I got a little too excited,” he quipped.

  “TMI, Dad.”

  Connie giggled and clapped her hand over her mouth.

  “Oh, sorry, Connie. I didn’t see you there,” Dad said.

  “No apology necessary, Henry,” she replied, moving to the side of me, so she could see him better.

  I couldn’t let go of the fear in the pit of my stomach. “Dad, what did you mean you were waiting for me?” Is your heart that bad?

  “I wanted to show you what I found,” he replied, relieving some of my apprehension. “I was studying the photos again from the copies you left me, and I found something peculiar in a couple of them.”

  “What was that, Dad?”

  “In the wedding photo, there’s a man in the back and to the right of Connie. I recognized his beady eyes. He’s also in a picture that you sent me.”

  Dad could spot a criminal in any lineup. He called it his second sense.

  Shaking my head, I said, “But I haven’t sent you any pictures in a while, Dad.”

  “That’s why it’s peculiar, Hettie. The picture you sent me was from a company hockey game last February.”

  “Huh?” I scratched my head, trying to put the pieces together. “You think someone from my department was at Connie’s wedding?”

  “You can run facial recognition on him, but I’d bet my last dollar that they’re the same person,” Dad replied. Usually, with Dad being a retired cop, I knew that he knew what he was talking about. But this seemed pretty farfetched.

  “Your mother has the two photos in her purse,” he said, turning to Mom. “Candace, wake up, Hettie’s here.”

  Mom jumped at Dad’s booming voice and sat up. “Hettie. You made it.”

  “Of course, Mom.”

  Mom stood up and hugged me before checking Dad’
s IV line. Then she checked his pulse on his wrist. Always the nurse.

  “Honey, give Hettie the photos I asked you to bring.”

  Mom glared at Dad and continued counting beats on his pulse. When she was satisfied, she turned to the nightstand and pulled the photos out of her purse. Just as she handed them to me, there was a loud knock on the door and the nurse walked in without waiting.

  “Mr. Quinn, we’ll be taking you up to prep in about fifteen minutes.”

  “Oh, already?” Dad asked exactly what I was thinking.

  “Remember, honey,” Mom said, taking his hand. “They have to prep you first, so you’re being moved to the preoperative holding area. You’ll be asked the same questions about allergies and existing conditions, all as a precaution. It’s SOP, honey.”

  “And you’re coming with me, right?” Dad asked, anxiety evident in his voice.

  I had never seen my dad afraid before, and it felt like a vice on my heart.

  “She’ll be right there by your side, Mr. Quinn,” the nurse assured him, and then disappeared out the door.

  I glanced over at Mom and found her texting on her phone. “I’m letting the kids know, honey. They’ll be up in a minute.”

  “Where are they?” I asked.

  “I sent them down to the canteen so your father could get some rest,” Mom replied, putting her phone away.

  “I should wait outside and make room for your family,” Connie said. “You’re in my prayers, Henry. I know you’re going to be all right. You’ll be fixing up old cars with Hettie in no time.”

  My eyes blurred with tears but I fought them back. I wouldn’t let my dad see me crying. Like my older brother, Hank, I was named after my father. He loved to brag that he had one of each sex named for him. We don’t know where the name Jerry came from, but my sister Kandi was named for Mom. My parents were very supportive and accepting of Jerry and me. Of course, Jerry, being their first gay child, sort of smoothed the road for me. I paid close attention to how he was treated before accepting that I was gay. Funny the things you think you can control.

  “Thanks, kid. Don’t wander off this time, okay?”

  Connie blushed and looked at her feet. “No, sir. I won’t.”

  “I’ll see you when you come out, Dad,” I said, putting my hand on the small of Connie’s back.

  “Look at those pictures,” he insisted.

  “Will do. I love you, Dad.”

  “I love you, too, kid. Don’t worry,” Dad said with a sigh. “This old ticker still has plenty of life left in her.”

  “Damn straight it does, Dad.”

  We passed my brothers and sister as they were walking down the hall.

  “Hey, guys. We’ll wait for you in the cafeteria.”

  “It’s not open yet,” my sister stated. “There’s a canteen on the second floor. The cafeteria opens at six.”

  “Okay, thanks.” I waved my hand toward Connie and said, “This is… uh,” I caught myself before I said girlfriend, partner, the love of my life. I knew I couldn’t say protectee, but I didn’t want to anyway. I wanted my family to know that Connie was special to me, but the timing was bad.

  Kandi eyed Connie curiously. “We’ll save the introductions for after Dad goes to surgery, okay?”

  Connie nodded but didn’t say anything. She got on with my folks almost instantaneously, and I wondered how she would fare with my siblings. As we walked into the canteen, I looked at the photos Dad was obsessed with. How could the same guy be at my hockey game and Connie’s wedding? I was sure Dad was mistaken.

  “Want a soda?” Connie asked, fishing out her billfold from her purse.

  “That would be great, thanks,” I replied, digging into my jeans pocket and pulling out all the change that I had. “Here, I’ve got some change.”

  She held out her hand. “Good, that should be enough for two. Remind me to get some dollar bills to use for tonight.”

  “Planning to stay for the long haul, are you?” I joked.

  She gazed at me with those luminous blue eyes and smiled. “Yes, I am.”

  I felt uncharacteristically shy, lowering my eyes and shuffling my feet. “Thanks, I really am glad you’re here.”

  “Because you’re guarding me, right?” she asked without malice.

  I looked at her again. “No.”

  “Oh.” Connie’s face blushed, and she turned to hide it. She walked over to the soda machine and inserted the coins.

  Grinning, I turned my attention to the pictures. Looking from one picture to the other, one face to another. Connie had given me a list of names of those in wedding party photo, which my Dad was saying had a face in it that was also in my hockey team photo. The hockey team was made up of U.S. Marshals from the Roanoke office and we had a rivalry going with the FBI, who was mostly the only team we played.

  “Holy shit! What was he doing there?”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Amanda Sanders (Connie Yarbrough-Morrison)

  “What was who doing where?” I asked, setting her soda on the table beside her. Hettie’s face was white as a sheet and her mouth hung open. I’d never seen her so perplexed.

  Hettie’s phone rang just as she pointed at the man in my wedding picture. She answered the phone and I picked up the photograph, looking at the shadowy man in the background. I didn’t recognize him. Probably someone Meredith knew at the bank. He didn’t look very happy to be there. Almost as if he didn’t know his picture was being taken. Then I caught my breath as I looked at Meredith. She was winking at the camera, almost as if she were winking at me. How come I never saw that before? I knew the photographer had taken a plethora of photos, but I didn’t remember seeing this one.

  “Oh, wait,” I exclaimed. “Hettie, this was taken while we were waiting for everyone to get in line. It wasn’t our official photo. Hettie?” Hettie had her hand on her heart, and her face was ashen gray. I put my hand on her arm. “Hettie, what is it?”

  “My dad just coded while waiting to have surgery,” she said with a trembling voice.

  “Oh, no,” I cried. Dear Lord, don’t let Henry die. Please, no one else.

  “Come on, we’ve got to get up there,” Hettie declared, jumping up and pocketing her cell phone. She grabbed the pictures and my hand and hurried out the door.

  I had to practically run to keep up with her long legs as she hurried down the hallway and up the stairs. We ran into the SICU, the surgical intensive care unit waiting room, and stopped, searching for her family. They were huddled around her mother.

  “Mom?” Hettie said, looking from Candace to one of her brothers.

  I was pretty sure he wasn’t Jerry because this man looked just like Henry, and older than the other, more feminine, man. But I knew better than to assume, especially with gay men, because I was always wrong.

  “His heart stopped, and they had to resuscitate him, right there in front of Mom,” the man said.

  “But they brought him back, right?” Hettie asked.

  “Yes, and then rushed him up to surgery. He has a blockage that they’re afraid has gotten bigger.”

  “Shouldn’t they have already known that?” Hettie asked accusingly.

  The man shrugged. “They ran enough tests to know.”

  “Thank God he was in the hospital when it happened,” Candace said, tears streaming down her eyes. The pretty blonde who had spoken to me earlier, clung to her as only a daughter could.

  I wanted so badly to console Candace as she had consoled me, but I didn’t want to get in the way of her family. I felt such an emptiness inside, an aching hollow emptiness that could never be filled again because my family was gone. I prayed that Candace wouldn’t have to feel that kind of emptiness.

  I took a couple of small steps back, giving them the space they needed, and alleviating the need I had to be unobtrusive. Hettie was understandably upset, and I had never seen her so vulnerable. She tried to hide her fear in front of her mother and siblings, but I could see the strain on her shoulders
. Her shoulders were broad and muscular, but the weight of everything going on in Hettie’s life was weighing them down.

  I looked around the large waiting room. There were two other families sitting as far apart from each other as possible. I also saw the industrial size coffeemaker sitting in the corner by the desk, where I assume the volunteers would set when they came on duty. I wandered over to the coffee machine, thinking that I would bring some back to Hettie and her family, but the carafes were empty. Both of them. I looked in the cabinet underneath the counter and pulled out a box of pre-measured packets that brews up to twelve cups of coffee. Perfect. Someone had drawn a line across the top of a pitcher with a magic marker. Okay, don’t go over that line, got it. Filling it up, I poured the water into the tank behind the coffee filter. Then I realized my mistake. The machine must have had water in it already because it started to drip instantly. I grabbed a carafe and put it on the warming plate just as the coffee began to stream out of the spout. Pulling paper towels from the wall dispenser, I quickly soaked up the coffee spilling onto the counter.

  “Need some help?” Hettie asked from behind me.

  “No, thanks. I’ve got it,” I said, fumbling with the liquid dripping off the counter. “Go be with your family and don’t worry about me.”

  “Sorry, occupational hazard.”

  “Because you’re guarding me?” Why do I keep asking her the same questions?

  “Nope.”

  A warm smile crossed my lips. I keep asking the same question hoping for the same answer. I wasn’t just a job to her. I was something more. But what? Did I want to be more? Yes. Could I give up Meredith to be more? No, never in a million years.

  “Go be with your mom,” I insisted. “I’ll bring the coffee over when it’s ready.”

  “Thanks for doing that. I’ve got to make a quick phone call, and I’ll be right over,” Hettie said, as she pulled out her cell phone and walked away.