Afternoon Delight

by Mia Zachary

  He turned her around, holding her sexy little body against his larger one to block the wind. The street was jam-packed with people, mostly families and friends by the look of them, cheering at dancers in traditional kimono and brightly colored floats as they passed by.

  “I used to come every year, especially after my mom died. My obasaan, my grandmother, would make shrimp-flavored rice cakes for us to eat while we waited for the parade to start. Afterwards, Ojiisan, my grandfather, used to buy me a bonsai tree to remember the day.”

  Chris wrapped his arms a little tighter around her shoulders in a hug and kissed the top of her hair.

  The air filled with the sound of cheering and the deep thundering boom of taiko drummers as the Cherry Blossom Queen and her court waved from atop their flower-draped float. As they passed, Rei pointed out the mikoshi, or portable shrines, and the buyo classical and minyo folk dancers.

  The parade finally ended with the Taru Mikoshi, a huge barrel-shaped shrine carried by almost a hundred people. Chris followed Rei as she wove through the crowd and walked over to the Japan Center, a five-acre complex at Post and Fillmore streets.

  In the Peace Plaza, located between two halves of the Japan Center, Rei pointed out a three-story white pagoda; a wooden drum tower that spanned the entrance to the mall and the copper-roofed Peace Walkway between the Tasamak and Kintetsu buildings.

  The sound of drumming and Asian music echoed off the buildings. Lining the large slate tiles were outdoor stages showcasing martial arts demonstrations and traditional dancing and awning-covered kiosks offering Japanese foods and crafts. The scent of stir-fried vegetables in soy sauce and grilled fish filled the cool air.

  “Are you hungry, Chris?”

  “Starving, actually.” He pulled her to his side and leaned in for a quick kiss. “I always seem to be hungry around you.”

  “Mmm, that can be dessert. For now I’ll take you to one of my favorite restaurants. It’s on the second floor of Kintetsu Mall.”

  Miyaki looked like the kind of Japanese house he’d seen in the movies. The tiny restaurant’s décor consisted of mat-covered floors, low tables and rice-paper screen walls. However it wasn’t as crowded as he’d expected. Most people were probably still out in the Plaza, so they were quickly shown to their seats.

  Chris had just adjusted his seat cushion, folding his long legs more comfortably under the short tabletop when his cell phone rang. “Excuse me a second, Rei. It’s my sister. Hello?”

  “I need you. Can you come over?” Diana’s voice sounded thick, like she’d been crying.

  He glanced at Rei. “Um, now? Because I’m with—”

  “Yes, now, Chris. Mom, Drea and Dad are all on their way.” Her voice broke on a fresh sob. “Gabriel is in trouble. Michael and I don’t know what to do. Please. You’re the only one he ever listens to.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can, Di.” He hung up and looked at Rei’s curious expression. “I’m really sorry about this, but I’ve got to go.”

  TO: RLD49

  FROM: C_London@email.com (via text pager)

  RE: QUICK EXIT

  I’m sorry I had to leave so abruptly this afternoon. It looks like my sister and her husband may be headed for a nasty divorce and my nephew is caught in the middle.

  He’s been getting into trouble at school and Diana caught him smoking. My nephew got suspended from school and refuses to talk to his parents about what happened. I’ll be here at my sister’s pretty much the rest of the evening.

  Otherwise I would have taken you up on that bubble bath. I’d have offered to scrub your back. And your front. Top to bottom. I really like your bottom.

  Chris

  RAINCHECK

  Sometimes, especially in a divorce situation, kids need to have an adult they can trust. I’m sure he’ll tell you what’s going on and you can help his parents figure out what to do.

  I’m home if you want to talk later. Or come share some bubbles.

  Rei

  Monday, April 21st

  Accomplishments: None

  REI PARKED her car in the garage, gathered her briefcase of files and walked toward the courthouse lobby. She made a mental note to try to reach Chris this morning. He’d called last night to let her know that his nephew was sleeping over at his place, but then she hadn’t heard anything more.

  As she approached the door, her court services clerk rushed forward with a look of relief and grabbed her by the elbow.

  “Mary Alice? What—?”

  “You don’t want to go in there, Commissioner.” Mary Alice was twice her age and half her weight, but still managed to strong-arm Rei away from the entrance and toward the opposite side of the garage. “There are reporters crawling through all of the corridors, and Judge Orr wants to see you right away.”

  “Why? What’s happened? Thank you.” One of the maintenance staff held the service elevator door until they got in, then pushed the button for their floor. Rei turned to Mary Alice. “What in the world is going on?”

  Her clerk patted her arm, but her expression was inscrutable. “The Youth Guidance Center is on level three lockdown. There was a riot among the general population, apparently gang related. Bruce Grayson was involved.”

  She felt her heartrate increase, certain she didn’t want to hear any more. “How?”

  “Apparently, he instigated a fight, provoking rivals of his brother’s gang. It got…out of hand.”

  Rei took a deep breath then slowly exhaled. “Tell me.”

  “Fourteen boys in the medical facility. One guard was taken to the hospital in critical condition after Bruce Grayson stabbed him. They don’t think the guard is going to make it.”

  10

  DESPITE THE ATTEMPT at deception, Rei still had to run the media gauntlet. Television and newspaper reporters crowded the hallway, and it didn’t take them long to spot her coming down the service corridor. She longed to jump back into the elevator and make her escape, but she had to face them in order to get to the supervising judge’s chambers.

  “Commissioner Davis, over here!”

  “Do you regret your decision?”

  “Care to make a statement, Commissioner Davis?”

  “Commissioner, do you feel responsible?”

  Rei lifted a hand in front of her face to keep the camera lights from blinding her. Mary Alice and Bill Travis, one of the security guards, were doing their best to shield her, but she felt every shouted question like a physical blow. By the time she’d pushed her way through the mob to the presiding judge’s office, she felt battered as well as heart sore.

  This was her fault. Fifteen people had been adversely affected by her decision; fifteen people had been hurt by her choice. Maybe sixteen. Because, while she took responsibility for her actions, she also felt like a victim. Had Bruce Grayson completely suckered her?

  Bill and Mary Alice waited outside, leaving Rei to enter Judge Orr’s chambers alone. He sat at his desk, scratching notes on a legal pad, but looked up as she came in. His craggy face appeared more stern than usual and Rei took it as a bad sign when she wasn’t invited to sit.

  “I assume you know about the situation at the YGC.” It was a statement, rather than a question. “Your decision in the case will be reviewed, of course.”

  Rei’s stomach clenched. In the wake of another judge’s personal misconduct, she had no doubts as to the scrutiny she was about to come under. It was bad enough she was questioning herself. Now each and every decision would be open to criticism.

  “As for your other cases, I’d suggest a zero-tolerance policy—hold firm and if need be fix it later. For now, I think it would be better to err on the cautious side. All right, Commissioner Davis, that’s all. Except to remind you that your only comment to the press should be ‘no comment.’”

  Rei nodded stiffly. “Yes, sir.”

  She turned and walked out, keeping her head down and her mouth shut as she fought her way to her own chambers. She thanked Bill, who promised to get some ba
ckup to keep order outside her courtroom, then turned to Mary Alice.

  “I want the transcript of the Grayson proceedings.”

  “I’m sure Judge Orr has already ordered it, Commissioner, but I’ll make sure you get a copy.”

  Rei dumped her purse and briefcase on the small couch and began to pace. “I want mine as soon as possible. I need to see—I have to be sure—”

  Mary Alice stepped in front of her to get her full attention. “I’ve been in the system for a long time and worked for a lot of judges. You’re never sure. You just trust your instincts and the law and make the best decision you can.”

  “Did I make the best decision? I can think of two dozen people, those boys and their families, who could argue otherwise.”

  “Everybody makes mistakes, Commissioner. But don’t forget the good we do here as well, okay? Now, I’ll let you have a few minutes to get yourself together, but after that you’ve got to take the bench. We’re already behind schedule.”

  Mary Alice closed the door behind her, but Rei could still hear the chaos out in the halls. She walked over to the window and stared out; however, all she could see was Bruce Grayson. The way he’d hung his head, the tears that clouded his dark eyes, the terror she thought she’d seen in his twelve-year-old face.

  Do you regret your decision, Commissioner?

  Commissioner, do you feel responsible?

  Hell, yes, she felt responsible. Didn’t she always?

  THE SAND she was usually able to shovel against the tide threatened to swamp her today.

  The morning sped by, due in part to several requests for postponement. Rei recognized the tactic as a way for lawyers to have their cases reassigned to other courtrooms. She also recognized her own inability to concentrate. She considered herself a good judge of character, but today she had to question every innocent expression and statement of regret.

  When Mary Alice called the last case before lunch, Rei was more than ready for a break. She wasn’t going to get one. Acid churned in her gut as she watched Assistant State’s Attorney Frank Dowd step up to the prosecutor’s table. Something flickered in his gaze, impertinence perhaps? Derision and disappointment, certainly. Rei looked away.

  Instead she picked up the file and flipped through it unnecessarily. “Okay, next we have the case of Gabriel Russo with the charge of threatening. I see Mr. Dowd for the State. And the defense would be?”

  “Lukas Simon, Your Honor.” A short, curly haired man stood up and buttoned his suit jacket. “We’re looking to have the matter dropped. The whole thing’s been blown out of proportion.”

  Maybe it had; maybe it hadn’t. But the school and local authorities took any threat of violence very seriously in light of the incidents at Columbine and in Redlake, Minnesota.

  “You know I can’t do that, Mr. Simon.” Rei ignored Dowd’s smug look. “I see here in the file that the State’s charges are based on a Web site—”

  “Actually, posts to a Web log called Out The Airlock,” Frank Dowd corrected.

  “Thank you, blog entries as well as a handwritten list of fellow students.”

  “Yes, Your Honor. The State intends to prove that Gabriel Russo published threats against the people on his hit list—”

  “Objection!” Lukas Simon then stood and addressed the prosecutor. “A hit list? Come on, Frank. For all the State knows, those are the people invited to Gabriel’s next birthday party.”

  “I’d hate to find out what kind of party favors they’ll be getting,” Dowd retorted.

  Rei glanced at the fourteen-year-old boy in question. He wore his jacket and tie uncomfortably and his dark-blond hair looked shaggy despite an attempt to tame it. He sat up straight with his hands folded before him on the table. The pallor of his face suggested nervousness, but she thought she saw anger in his deep brown eyes.

  “This kid is a walking time bomb, Your Honor,” Dowd continued. “When you combine the list with the threatening posts on the blog—”

  “A combination the State never could have made if the principal hadn’t broken into Gabe’s locker!”

  “New Jersey v. T.L.O., Luke. The Supreme Court held that a locker is school property and school officials can conduct a search based on reasonable suspicion.”

  “I’m still trying to figure out the reasonable suspicion part, since Gabe isn’t the only student who vents on that site. If it were a crime to mouth off about school bullies and social cliques, every kid between eleven and seventeen would be in a courtroom,” the defense lawyer countered.

  Rei lightly tapped her gavel. “Let’s calm down, people.”

  Frank Dowd stared at her, his gaze intent. “The State feels that the statements along with the list were sufficient to bring the charge. We have evidence of Gabriel Russo’s anti-social behavior and plan to call witnesses who will attest to his volatile nature.”

  Rei looked over at the boy again and thought about Judge Orr’s zero-tolerance directive. This case would be tough, one she might have relished any other time. But not today, not after the mistake she made with Bruce Grayson.

  “All right, gentlemen, given the gravity of the accusation, I’ll hear witness testimony Wednesday morning. We’re adjourned.”

  “CHRIS, COME HERE for a second.”

  Lara waved him over to the bar, her attention on the TV set mounted on the wall. When he was close enough for her to lower her voice, she nodded her head at the screen. “Hang on. This commercial is almost over.”

  He looked up to see the return of a midday news program—and Rei’s pale, angry face pictured in a small window behind the anchorman’s head.

  “Isn’t that one of our clients?” Lara asked.

  “Yeah, it is. Turn it up, will you?” Chris listened to the newscaster recap the feature story. Apparently Rei’s decision not to try this Grayson kid as an adult was being blamed for the uprising at the juvenile detention center.

  His heart went out to her as he watched the footage of her fighting her way through a crowd of reporters. Despite the throng of people around her, she looked isolated. Her pale face was set in a calm mask, but, behind her glasses, her eyes shone with tears. He heard her voice crack as she murmured “no comment” for the fifth time.

  “Lara, can you reschedule my appointments? I’m taking the rest of the day off.”

  She agreed and Chris thanked her, walking out of the bar past several clients, including Grant Bronson. Digging his cell phone out of his pocket, Chris dialed Rei’s number as he continued out of the building.

  “Yes?”

  “You sound awful, sweetheart.”

  That got a watery laugh from her. “Thanks, Chris, that’s just what I needed to hear.”

  “Where are you now?”

  She sighed heavily into the phone. “The courthouse is a circus, so at the supervising judge’s strong recommendation, I’ve cleared my docket for the rest of the day.”

  He reached for the keys to his pickup truck. “Okay, give me your address and I’ll be at your place in an hour or so.”

  She gave him the address. “But you don’t have to do that, Chris—”

  “I’m doing it anyway. See you soon.”

  When Rei opened the door forty-five minutes later, she was wearing a silk blouse and tweed skirt but no shoes. He shifted the large shopping bag and bent down to give her a strong embrace and a kiss of reassurance. Then he moved around her to the living room. He heard her close the door and follow him as he set down the bag and took off his jacket.

  “What’s all this?”

  “A little afternoon delight.” He began to spread out a floral tablecloth on the carpet.

  She groaned. “That old song? My clerk listens to the oldies station and they play it all the time.”

  “It’s not the lyrics so much as the sentiment.” He handed her the bouquet of a dozen peach roses from the bag. “If you’ll put these in water and get us some plates, I’ve brought a bottle of the Chardonnay you liked, take-out from the chef at Lunch Meetings
and chocolate-dipped strawberries. Everything I could think of to make you forget about your morning.”

  Rei hugged the roses to her with one arm and reached to cup his cheek with the other hand. She pulled him down for a tender kiss that nevertheless made him hot for her. She just seemed to affect him that way, equal parts lust and…

  Love? Was that what he felt? A ribbon of anxiety skittered through his chest. It couldn’t be, but then how would he know? Sure, he liked Rei a lot and enjoyed being with her. And he experienced an unusual sense of fulfillment when she was around. But love was something he created for others; he made it happen. It didn’t happen to him. Chris deepened the kiss, concentrating on the lust part.

  When Rei came up for air, he was glad to see a little smile on her face. “Careful, mister. I could get used to this.”

  “I could get used to doing it.”

  He hadn’t realized how much until this moment. When he’d seen the news, all he could think about was getting to her, being there for her. Considering her aversion to commitment, he sure wasn’t going to mention it to her yet. He’d just leave it alone and let things progress naturally.

  Rei came back from the kitchen balancing plates and cutlery, two wine glasses and a corkscrew. “I didn’t say it before, but thank you. This is a lovely surprise.”

  Chris waited until she sat down and he’d poured her wine. “Unlike the surprise this morning. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

  “I apparently screwed up, that’s what happened.” Her mouth twisted into a scowl.

  “Are you sure? Maybe you just missed something.” He spooned cold prawns, steamed asparagus and portobello mushrooms next to the marinated bowtie pasta.

  Rei made a face as she accepted the plate. “That makes me feel a lot better, knowing a twelve-year-old kid tugged on my heartstrings and played me like a concerto.”

  He swallowed a sip of the wine. “Sorry.”

  “Let’s talk about something else, anything else.” She took a bite of her pasta. “Like how good this food is.”