Cooper By The Gross (All 144 Cooper Stories In One Volume)

by Bill Bernico

  “You did it,” Dan said. “I’m really happy for you, Matt.”

  “Thanks, Dan,” I said. “But you can’t be half as happy as I am right now.”

  “Hey,” Dan said. “Don’t worry about the Finch matter. I’ve got it under control. We may have it wrapped up in a neat bundle by the time you two get back from Chicago. You just go and enjoy yourself.”

  “Thanks, Dan,” I said, and led Amy back out of the office and down to our car. I opened her door and she slid in. I slid behind the wheel and before I drove away, I turned to Amy and said, “Hello, Mrs. Cooper.”

  Amy smiled and said, “Hello, Mr. Cooper.” She kissed me once more before we drove back home. We got out of the car and walked up the sidewalk to her house. I stopped at the door, opened it and then turned and picked Amy up in my arms and carried her into our first home. We couldn’t keep out hands off each other once I set her down again. We undressed each other as we worked our way to the bedroom. By the time we made it onto the bed, we were both naked as the day we were born. Afterwards we both drifted off to sleep wrapped in each other’s arms.

  We woke up later that afternoon, rested and refreshed and still giggling like a couple of kids. We got dressed and packed our suitcases. I drove us to the airport and left the car in the long-term parking lot, sticking my ticket in my wallet. We still had an hour before our flight was supposed to leave so we were able to take our time walking to the terminal.

  It was just one-thirty when we boarded the plane and buckled ourselves into our seats. Chicago was a mere six hours away. Quite a change from the days when it took you six days by bus and four days by train. We heard the whir of the two giant engines as the propellers revved up. Amy took my hand and squeezed it when the plane started to move.

  I could sense her nervousness. “Don’t tell me you’ve never flown before,” I said.

  “Never,” Amy said. “What about you?”

  “Sure,” I said casually. “Lots of times. There’s nothing to it. Relax.”

  Amy closed her eyes when the plane lifted off the runway and tilted skyward. I could feel her body shaking the whole time. A few moments later the plane leveled off and smoothed out and Amy relaxed the grip she’d had on my hand. When she let go, my hand had four white dents in it.

  “See,” I said. “What’d I tell you? Nothing to it.”

  Amy’s nervous smile told me the she didn’t think there was ‘nothing to it’.

  “You bring a book with you?” I said. “Or would you rather just look out the window and watch the countryside go by beneath you?”

  She did neither, but just leaned into me even tighter. “Would you like to trade seats with me?” I said. “I like to look out the window.”

  Amy and I quickly unbuckled our seat belts and stood in the aisle. I stepped in ahead of her and took the window seat and she took the aisle seat. She let out a deep breath and laid her head on my shoulder. She didn’t say much of anything for the next half hour. I’d been occupying my time watching the clouds and the occasional glimpses of the countryside between clouds and when I turned to Amy, I found she’d fallen asleep. I let her sleep and closed my own eyes as well.

  It was five hours later when I felt the minute rumbling before I heard it. A stewardess was pushing a rickety beverage cart down the center aisle, collecting glasses and used napkins. I opened my eyes just as she came to where we were sitting. I handed her my glass and napkin and she took Amy’s and moved on with the cart. I couldn’t sleep anymore so I sat up and glanced out the window again. We were much lower than before, the clouds now above us and the countryside below us close enough for me to make out individual roads.

  The captain’s voice came over the plane’s intercom system, waking Amy from her nap. “Ladies and gentlemen,” the captain said. “Please fasten your seat belts. We will be landing in Chicago in just a few minutes. The temperature in Chicago is fifty-three degrees and sunny. The local time is nine-eighteen. Enjoy your stay in Chicago and thank you for flying Trans-American Airlines.”

  I looked at my watch, thinking the captain must have given the wrong time. It said seven-eighteen and then I remembered the two-hour time difference between Chicago and Los Angeles. I turned my watch ahead and then turned to Amy.

  “Have a nice nap?” I said.

  “No thanks,” Amy said. “I just had one.” She smiled at me and jabbed me with her elbow.

  “Good one, dear,” I said. “Looks like we made it in one piece. Phil and Betty should be there to meet us when we get off the plane.”

  The plane descended toward O’Hare Airport and I turned to look out the window again. This was my favorite part of any flight—watching as the ground got closer to me and I could see neighborhoods from a bird’s-eye view just a couple hundred feet up in the air. The plane touched down and taxied to the tarmac. When it stopped, people all around me stood and immediately reached into the overhead compartments for their carry-on luggage.

  Amy tried to stand, but I held her back. “Might as well wait,” I said. “This could take a while and it’s better to sit here while we wait than to be squashed in the aisle while everyone tried to push their way out of here.”

  A few minutes later, the line in the aisle began to move and I could see the end of the line. That’s when I stood and helped Amy stand up as well. We fell into line behind the last couple and made our way out of the plane and down the set of rolling steps that had been pushed up to the plane. When we finally stepped onto solid ground again I looked toward the gate and saw Betty waving wildly at me. Phil stood next to her and beside him were their two boys, Troy and Little Matt, who was named after me.

  We exited through the gate and Betty immediately threw her arms around my neck and kissed my cheek. Phil shook my hand and the two boys held onto my waist. I turned toward Amy, wrapped my arm around her shoulder and proudly announced, “Phil, Betty, Troy, Matt, this is my wife, Amy Cooper.”

  Betty hugged her and then stepped back for a better look at her. Betty smiled like the Cheshire Cat and then looked at me. “Matt, she’s lovely, just lovely.” Then she turned to Amy and said, “Welcome to the Cooper family, Amy.”

  Phil stepped up and extended his hand as if to shake Amy’s. She shook her head and said, “That won’t do,” and wrapped her arms around Phil’s neck and hugged him.

  “Hi, Amy,” was all Phil could muster. He glanced at me and raised his eyebrows and smiled. I knew that look. He’d given me that same look when he’d found out I’d asked Phyllis McGregor to the high school dance and she’d accepted.

  The two boys slowly walked up to Amy and smiled, and then as if they’d been rehearsed earlier that day, they both held their arms up and allowed Amy to bend over and give each one a hug. She looked at Troy, seeing that he was the bigger of the two boys and said, “You must be Troy. I’ll bet you’re good at sports.” She squeezed his biceps. Troy blushed and smiled.

  Amy turned to the smaller of the two boys and said, “And you must be Little Matt, although you’re not so little anymore, are you?” She flattened her hand and laid it on Little Matt’s head and then transferred the flattened hand to one of my ribs that was actually higher than what she’d measured. “A few more years,” Amy said, “and you’ll be as big as your uncle Matt.” That made little Matt giggle and turn away.

  “Come on,” Phil said. “The car’s right over here.”

  “We have to wait for the luggage,” I said.

  Phil looked over my shoulder at several large handcarts being pushed toward the terminal. “That luggage?” he said, pointing past me.

  Amy and I collected our luggage and stowed them in the trunk of Phil’s car. Phil and Betty sat in the front seat with Troy next to them. Amy and I slid into the back seat with Little Matt sitting next to me. It took twenty minutes to drive from the airport to Phil’s house on Kedzie Avenue. Phil and I carried the luggage into the house and I could hear Amy and Betty talking up a storm behind us.

  We set the luggage down in one of the be
drooms and returned to the kitchen. Phil said, “Can I get either of you something to drink? A soda or beer or something else?”

  “A soda sounds good,” I said.

  “Make that two,” Amy added.

  “Make that three,” Troy said, holding up three fingers.

  Little Matt piped up, “Me too.”

  Phil did a head count, pointing his finger at each person and finally announced, “Six sodas coming up.” He gestured with his chin to the living room sofa. “Go on in and relax, you two. You must be exhausted after your flight.”

  Amy and I walked into the living room and collapsed onto the couch. Betty sat next to Amy and the two boys sat cross-legged on the floor, looking up in wonder at the uncle they hadn’t seen in more than two years. Phil came in carrying a tray with six soda bottles with their caps removed. He handed each of us a bottle and then sat in his favorite overstuffed chair. We all tilted our bottles up and enjoyed the cold refreshment of the soda.

  Phil looked at me and spoke first. “So you’ve decided to take my advice after all, eh?”

  “What advice is that?” I said.

  “Don’t you remember?” Phil said. “Last time you were here I said you should get married again. I told you it would be good for you and you blew it off. Looks like you gave it some thought and knew I wasn’t giving you a bum steer.”

  “Yeah, Phil,” I said. “That was exactly it. After I left here I went home and walked the streets just wondering who would make a good wife. Only took me two years, but hey.” I pointed to Amy. “Looks like it paid off.”

  Amy slapped my shoulder. “That’s not how it was at all,” she said. “We might not have met at all if he hadn’t been such a klutz.”

  Betty had been sipping from her soda bottle when she heard Amy’s version and quickly lowered the bottle and wiped a couple of drops of soda off her chin. “All right, Amy,” Betty said. “Let’s hear your version of how you two met.”

  Amy explained how she had been walking toward the movie theater when I came running around the corner and had knocked her down, spilling the contents of her purse out on the sidewalk. She told Betty how I’d paid her way into the theater and bought her popcorn as a way to apologize for bumping into her.”

  “That’s sounds more believable,” Betty said. “But wasn’t it fateful that you two came to the exact same spot on this earth at the same time?”

  Amy locked an arm around mine and leaned in. “Yes it was,” she said.

  Phil turned to Amy and said, “And what about this wedding?” He said. “Why the big hurry to tie the knot? We’d have thought you’d have a big wedding with all the fixings.”

  Betty gave her husband the look that he’d come to know so well after all these years and Phil knew he’d better not press the issue. Apparently Betty had guessed why we had rushed to the altar and didn’t want to drag that part of it out into the open.

  “So,” Phil said, changing the subject completely, “did you pick Chicago for your honeymoon just to spend some time with your favorite brother?”

  “My only brother,” I said. “And no, that wasn’t the only reason. Amy’s from here, too. Can you beat that? I mean, what are the odds?

  “A fellow Chicagoan,” Phil said. “Where’d you live?”

  “Pulaski Road,” Amy explained. “I started first grade at Peck Elementary School.”

  “Started?” Betty said.

  Amy nodded. “Dad liked to move around a lot so we didn’t get to stay in any one spot long enough to finish most grades that we’d started. Dad moved us to a house just two blocks from here down near twenty-fifth.”

  “Then you would have gone to Spry School,” Betty said.

  “That’s right,” Amy said. “Got to finish three of the four quarters that time. Dad got the itch just seven weeks before school let out. I had to finish second grade at McCormick School right down the street here.”

  Troy raised his hand, forgetting he wasn’t in school. “That’s where I go,” Troy said. “Me and Matt.”

  “Matt and I,” Betty corrected.

  I turned to Betty, “You go there, too?” I said. I winked at her and she laughed.

  That’s over on,” Amy said. “No, don’t tell me, let me see if I can remember back that far. “Over on Sawyer, wasn’t it?”

  Phil nodded. “Still is. Twenty-seventh and Sawyer,” he said. “You might want to walk Matt over there tomorrow and see if it looks the same.”

  Amy yawned. “Excuse me,” she said. “It’s been a long day.”

  Phil looked at me. “Matt, how’d you like to go with me tomorrow down to the precinct? I’m sure there are a few guys there who’d like to say hi.”

  I looked at Amy. “Go ahead, Matt,” Amy said.

  “Yes,” Betty echoed. “Amy and I have a lot of catching up to do. Well, not so much catching up as bringing me up to speed. We can go shopping.” She turned to Amy. “That is if you’re up for it.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Amy said. “But right now I’m about ready to fall asleep right here on the couch. Would you all excuse me, please?”

  Phil and I stood while Amy set her soda down on the coffee table and headed back toward the bedroom where we’d parked our luggage.

  “It’s been a long day for me, too,” I said. “And we’re two hours ahead of you. I guess I’ll turn in as well. Good night.”

  I followed Amy into the bedroom and closed the door. She was undressing and I just sat on the edge of the bed watching. Amy turned away from me as she unbuttoned her dress, looking over her shoulder at me.

  “Take it off,” I whispered.

  “Shhh,” Amy said. “They’re all right outside this door.”

  I stood next to Amy and eased the dress off one shoulder and then the other. I pulled the garment down and let it drop to the floor. Amy faced me and I wrapped my arms around her, unfastening her bra and pulling it off her shoulders. I stepped back and took a good long look and sighed.

  “Beautiful,” I said. “Simply beautiful.”

  We rose the next morning feeling refreshed after the long day we’d had. We got dressed and joined Phil, Betty and the boys for breakfast. The boys were just finishing the last of their French toast, swallowing the last bit of their milk and wiping their faces with their napkins. They each grabbed their schoolbooks and ran for the front door.

  “Careful crossing the street,” Betty called after them as they left for school.

  “We will,” Troy called back.

  Betty cleared the boys’ places at the table and gestured to us to take their seats. Phil had just finished with the morning paper and laid it down on the table.

  “So where are you to ladies off to this morning?” Phil said between sips of coffee.

  “I thought we’d walk over to Goldblatt’s Department Store,” Betty said. “Not downtown, just the one over on Twenty-sixth and Spaulding.”

  “I remember that place,” I said. “I could spend hours walking through that store just looking and wishing. I remember this big red bike that I wanted so bad I could taste it.”

  Phil finished his coffee and kissed Betty before heading for the door. He turned back for a second, “We should be back for lunch,” Phil said. “You ready, Matt?”

  “Right behind you,” I said, popping the last morsel of toast into my mouth. I stepped over to Amy and gave her a kiss. “Have fun,” I told her and followed Phil out the door.

  Phil walked the twenty steps over to his garage and opened the overhead door. We got into his Plymouth and he backed out onto the street. We drove along Kedzie Avenue, heading north. I took in all the old familiar sights I’d known as a kid.

  Without looking at me, Phil said, “Seems like you got yourself a keeper there, Matt. That Amy’s a real doll.”

  “Yes,” I said. “I’m a lucky guy.”

  We drove along in silence for a few more minutes until I could no longer keep it inside. “I’m going to be a father,” I blurted out.

  Phil turned his head toward me
this time. “I know,” he said, “That’s terrific.”

  “You know?” I said. “How’d you know already?”

  “Betty said something to me last night when we went to bed,” Phil explained. “I guess Amy must have told her about it.”

  “She sure didn’t waste any time telling someone, did she?” I said. “But I’m just as anxious to see our child. It’s sure going to feel like a long time until next summer.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be a great father, Matt.,” Phil said. “You were always so good with my boys. You’re hoping for a boy, I suppose.”

  “It doesn’t matter to me,” I said. “As long as Amy and the baby are healthy and happy. I’d like a boy, sure, but a girl would suit me just fine, too.”

  “You have names picked out?” Phil asked.

  “Amy wants Sarah,” I said, “after her grandmother, if it’s a girl. And I thought Clay would be nice for a boy.”

  “Sounds like a future gumshoe to me,” Phil said. “Cooper and Son. Has kind of a nice ring to it.”

  Phil pulled around to the back of the precinct house and parked in the lot. We walked in together and I saw a few familiar faces from my short stint on this police force back when I was in my early twenties. I followed Phil to a room at the end of the hall. The glass door was lettered, Philip Cooper.

  “Your own office,” I said. “You’re moving up around here, aren’t you?”

  “You could say that,” Phil said.

  I suddenly remembered my former sergeant who’d been a real pain in the ass when I worked here. “Whatever happened to Sergeant Burns,” I said. “I remember watching him work in the interrogation room. He was good and he got results when he was giving a suspect the third degree. After that I started calling him “Third Degree Burns” and it caught on. I know he was never happy with that moniker. What’s he doing now?”

  “Not much of anything,” Phil said.

  “A slacker,” I said, smiling to myself. “I thought as much.”

  “He’s dead,” Phil said.

  “Dead?”

  “Shot six times when he tried to arrest a suspect without backup,” Phil explained. “Broke his own rule and all he got for his troubles was a policeman’s funeral.”