These Foolish Things

by Thatcher, Susan

  Liz pulled into the driveway and pressed the button to open the garage door remotely. After years of parking on the street, Liz appreciated this small luxury no end. She pulled into the second space, noting that Ty’s car was already in its space. He was home. Liz turned off the engine and closed the big door.

  She began unloading the trunk of her car, kind of surprised that Ty hadn’t come out to the garage upon hearing her arrive. Maybe the soundproofing in the house was really good. She opened the door leading from the garage into a small mud room off the kitchen. Beanie dashed by her.

  “Ha! Foiled again! The big door’s closed!” Liz called after him. She turned to continue moving items into the house.

  “Hello?” Liz called out. “Anybody home?”

  Silence. She shrugged and went about her business, finally shooing Beanie back into the house after she’d emptied the car. It hadn’t taken long.

  Liz was in the process of schlepping cartons upstairs when Ty emerged from the den. “Hey, Babe, when did you get here?” he asked. “Let me.” He took the boxes from Liz and headed upstairs with them.

  “About 20 minutes ago,” she said. “You didn’t hear me?”

  “I was on the phone. I thought I heard something, but I wasn’t sure,” he answered over his shoulder.

  It didn’t take long to unpack. The last item to be put into place was Liz’s print of Pygmalion and Galatea. With Ty’s help, she hung the picture on a hook near his bed. Their bed.

  Ty leaned back on the bed propped on his elbows and studied the print. Beanie jumped up on the bed and rubbed against him, whacking Ty with his tail.

  “It’s such a dark background,” he remarked. “Every time I see it, I think about how gloomy it looks. And I can’t understand how you of all people, would be attracted to a story about a man creating the perfect woman. Doesn’t strike me as something that would appeal to you, Liz.”

  Liz sat next to Ty and put her arm around his shoulder. “Well, that’s one interpretation. I got the chance to talk to a sculptor at a thing at the Museum of Fine Arts and I asked him how he chose what he would sculpt. The guy said that he’d look at a piece of stone and see something in it, then carve until he freed it. It was after that conversation that I found this picture and it occurred to me that Pygmalion hadn’t created Galatea; he had seen her trapped in the marble. Chiseling away the stone was how he could free her. It’s dark because nothing else matters but freeing her. And I think, maybe, in that way, she changed him, brought out qualities he didn’t know he had until he began the work of chiseling her out.”

  Ty leaned his head against Liz. “I see,” he said slowly. He brought one arm around and gently pulled Liz down to the bed beside him. “So, are you the statue or the sculptor?” he asked.

  Liz thought for a minute, studying the picture. “I’d say I’m the statue,” she said. “I was locked in that marble until you found me.” she said softly.

  Ty kissed the side of her face. “I think you’re the sculptor,” he murmured, “Since I met you, I’ve felt more alive than I ever have.” He kissed her again.

  He leaned back, stroking Liz’s face. “Wow,” he said.

  “What’s wow, Ty?” Liz asked.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” Ty whispered. “You’re here and you’re going to stay here and I get to wake up next to you every day and come home to you every night.” He pulled her closer.

  Liz pulled herself even closer to Ty. “I should have known that when you clobbered me at home plate that it was the start of something.” She kissed Ty’s forehead. “Maybe that’s why I kissed you.”

  Ty chuckled. “You caught me by surprise with that one.” He moved so that he was on top of Liz. “All we need is the ball. Hit me with your best shot.” And Liz kissed him like she did the first time, except that this time, Ty definitely kissed her back. Liz’s hands grasped the back of his shirt and began tugging it out of his pants. Ty responded by unbuttoning Liz’s sweater and kissing the flesh he exposed. In moments, they were naked and entwined. Within minutes, Liz was gasping from a powerful climax as Ty spent himself into her.

  When she had caught her breath, Liz finally asked him, “So what do you want for our first dinner as bunkies? I’ll fix you anything but sushi.”

  Ty smiled and kissed her hand, “From now on, Elizabeth, as the mistress of this house, you don’t have to lift a finger. We’ll go out to this little Italian place in Chestnut Hill. It’s not Vincenzo’s but it’s very good.”

  “I’d be delighted to cook for you,” said Liz, “Maybe we could go to that place tomorrow. Millie wants to get together for brunch.”

  Ty winced. “Babe, you’ll have to go without me. I have to go back into the office for a while tomorrow. I’m sorry.” He kissed her again. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

  After dinner, they’d come back to the house and made love for hours. Liz could feel Ty spooned up behind her, his arm around her as he slept, his breath stirring her hair; he radiated contentment. She was sated with lovemaking and tired from moving, but still unable to fall asleep. Something at the back of her mind was nagging at her but didn’t want to fully disclose itself.

  Liz gave up and tried to fall asleep. For some reason, she kept remembering Ty saying the word, “mistress.”

  Chapter 9

  “Millicent Wentworth, I do believe you’re the biggest sadist I’ve ever met who wasn’t a licensed dentist,” Liz winced. “I don’t think there’s a part of me that doesn’t ache except maybe for my hair.” Liz gingerly reached up and touched her scalp. “Nope. That hurts, too.”

  Millie laughed. “Hey, you SAID you wanted to go hiking. You SAID you wanted the exercise. You SAID you wanted something challenging. You SAID you wanted something that would keep you occupied. You SAID you trusted me.” Millie put up one hand. The other was on the steering wheel. “You’re unhappy now because I did as you said. Talk to the hand. You got what you wanted.”

  Liz leaned back in the passenger seat cautiously. “You know I’ve said and done a lot of damned fool things in my life. As my best friend, you’re supposed to stop me, not pack a lunch and go along for the trip.” Liz winced again. “That’s it. You’re fired. I’m getting a new best friend. Wonder if Corey wants the job?”

  They had spent the early May weekend in the White Mountain National Forest day-hiking. Millie had been going almost since she was in utero and considered the area her backyard. What Millie considered “a good workout” had the potential to drop an entire platoon of Marines. Liz, unfortunately, had forgotten that.

  Millie laughed. “I still can’t believe you. The Border Guard asks us if we have anything to declare and you say, ‘Only my undying love for Andy Garcia.’ He wasn’t amused, Liz.”

  “First requirement for such a job, Millie, is no sense of humor.” Liz laughed.

  “I thought he was gonna bust us or take apart the car. Instead, he just gets annoyed and tells us to get the hell out of there.”

  They both laughed, Millie more heartily than Liz.

  “Hey, how come you didn’t pick up any booze at Duty Free?” Millie asked with genuine puzzlement. “How often do we get up there to get Brador?”

  “Guess I’ve kind of lost my taste for it.” Liz said offhandedly. “I got perfume, though, so while you’re smelling like a brewery, belching and singing ‘Friends In Low Places’ in some key no one’s ever heard, I’ll be smelling like a rose. Or rather, a blend of roses and starlight. Nyah.”

  Millie continued laughing. “Good thing, too. You need it right now, my friend.” She pretended to wave away unbearable odors. Liz made a face at her and they laughed some more. She was glad Millie hadn’t questioned her further about the beer.

  Millie leaned back in her seat. “I can’t wait to see John,” she smiled a secret little smile. “I think I’ll let him clean the Great North Woods off me.” Millie glanced at Liz. “Of course, you’ve got Ty waiting for you. Good thing we’re almost there. He’s probably pacing and watchin
g the door. Gotta get you home pronto.”

  Liz just stared at the dashboard. “You don’t have to rush.” She said it very softly.

  Millie glanced at her, frowning. “Now that I think about it, you were pretty quiet when you weren’t cracking jokes like that Andy Garcia one. I know you, Elizabeth. Your sense of humor is your defense mechanism and your armor. You’ve got it on so thick right now, I can almost hear clanking. What happened with you and Ty? I thought you couldn’t keep your hands off each other.”

  Liz shrugged. “Must have just been a phase, like having acne all the time when you’re a teenager. You grow out of phases.”

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing, really,” Liz was pensive. “I’ve been falling asleep by myself a few nights lately.”

  “Bullshit. You wouldn’t be that depressed if it was just an occasional thing.”

  “He’s been getting buried at work. Success attracts success and he’s extremely successful. He works hard.”

  Millie’s eyebrows were as high as she could raise them. “Tyrone is too busy to have sex with you?”

  “I didn’t say that. Can we change the subject, please?”

  “No, this is the kind of stuff girlfriends are supposed to talk about and obsess over. What’s happening, Liz?”

  Liz felt her chest tighten, “Nothing much.”

  “As in,” Millie intoned delicately, “nothing much?”

  Liz stared at her knees. “If he’s there, which doesn’t happen as often as it used to, he’s not there.” You should have been more careful what you wished for, Girl, thought Liz, because, by God, you got him.

  “Meaning?” Millie prompted.

  Liz snapped, “He’s either too tired, preoccupied or drunk and when he is interested,” Liz hated this conversation, “there’s not much left for me, if you catch my drift.”

  “Oh, Liz. What happened?”

  “His team lost a big class-action suit because someone missed a filing date,” Liz answered. “And the judge dismissed it. He was so angry for a few days that I was afraid of him. As soon as he came home, he’d start pouring the Scotch and get on the phone. I caught a look from him a couple of times like he blamed me.”

  “How could it be your fault?” Millie was aghast, “You don’t work for him!”

  “I distracted him,” said Liz.

  “Did he say that?” asked Millie.

  “No,” said Liz, “but he’s spent more time with me than he has with any other woman and I overheard one of the associates make a remark about it. If he’d maintained his focus, the error wouldn’t have happened. When they restarted the case, he threw himself into it.”

  Liz stared out the window and continued, more or less to herself, but out loud, “He breaks plans and then buys me jewelry to make up for it and for not coming home. When we do go out, and that doesn’t happen much, he’s on the phone non-stop; he doesn’t eat much of what he orders and it’s one drink after another until I have to drive us home. At least, he’s smart enough to let me do that. I mentioned to him that I thought maybe he should cut back and he said, ‘Nah, don’t worry. I can stop. Once this case is done. I’ll stop, I promise.’ And he’s been on the road for this case, most of the time in Houston. I’ll call him and it sounds like a huge party in the background. He sounds drunk most of the time when I talk to him. When he’s home, his mind is in the office. Millie, I swear some days I could go down on him and he wouldn’t notice.”

  “Ouch.”

  Liz was fighting her tears. “In the beginning, yeah, we couldn’t get enough of each other. We almost didn’t want to fall asleep and when we did, he’d be spooned up behind me, sound asleep and if I tried to get out of bed, his arm would tighten around me. I’d kiss him in his sleep and he’d smile or make a little ‘mmmm’ sound. If I put my arms around him, I could feel him relax and snuggle closer.” Liz smiled at the memories. “Before we’d fall asleep, he’d read to me. Oh, Mill, that voice and John Donne’s poetry...”

  “He’d kiss my face and whisper something like “Goodnight, Love” as I was falling asleep and I’d feel him pulling me close as he fell asleep. In the morning, we’d look into each other’s eyes for a couple of minutes before saying or doing anything, then he’d tease me about snoring and I’d give him grief about farting in his sleep.”

  Millie asked quietly, “And now?”

  “The poetry book has stayed in the drawer. He stays on his side of the bed, doesn’t touch me. I still see those wonderful eyes across the pillow, but they’re bloodshot now. If I try to put my arms around him, he pushes me off and rolls away. The night before I left on this trip,” this really hurt, “I kissed him in his sleep and he slapped at me like I was a mosquito biting him.” Liz unconsciously touched her cheek where Ty had hit her. He’d been too drunk to wake up even after that.

  “Did you yell at him, at least?” Millie was getting indignant and angry.

  “What’s the point? He didn’t know what he was doing. When I first moved in, he would have given me a huge argument about leaving him alone for a weekend. When I asked if he minded that I’d go up to New Hampshire, he didn’t care. I’ve tried to talk to him about it, but all he’d say was, “Liz, Baby, I’m sorry, but can we do this later? I’m running late for a meeting with Jimmy.’ and head out the door, but come back with something to show me how sorry he was. But,” Liz had to pause, “he wasn’t sorry enough to make time.”

  “Who’s Jimmy?” Millie asked.

  “Jimmy Carlisle, Esquire,” Liz practically spat the name, “is the up-and-coming litigator busted for cocaine possession last summer. Remember the hecklers at the auction? Well, that was Jimmy and friends. Anyway, Brooks, Washburn made a deal with the DA to keep him working and to avoid the bad publicity.

  “Well, part of the deal was that he’d be closely supervised and they assigned him to work with Ty, figuring a mentor would straighten him out. So, they’ve been working together and more than one night, Jimmy’s been crashed in one of the spare rooms at our house. He’ll keep Ty up, talking and drinking until 4 AM. The housekeeper was on the verge of quitting two weeks ago.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, Jimmy switched from coke to vodka, ‘cuz vodka’s legal, Lizzie. Don’t you worry.’ Millie, the man is a binge drinker and he goes until he vomits. Usually all over the bed or the bathroom.” Millie made a disgusted sound.

  Liz leaned her head against the window. “He graduated top of his class from a first-tier school, but you’ve gotta wonder how. I’ve heard him choke on some basic law questions that even I can answer, but then, Jimmy is the king of cutting corners.”

  Liz sighed, “Instead of Ty being a good influence on him, Jimmy’s dragging Ty down to his level. Ty was a really sharp, hard-nosed litigator, you know. Really thorough preparation and a huge presence in a courtroom. He fought hard, but clean. I don’t know anyone who didn’t respect him, including the guys who lost to him.”

  “Things have changed. Jimmy walks just a hair on the wrong side of ethics, pushing and pushing and pushing at the line. He relies on borderline misrepresentation, questionable billing and deliberately losing documents. He’s doing this on cases he’s working with Ty and word is getting around. That’s not all; every chance he gets, the bastard’s trying to grope me or rub against me. It’s gotten so I don’t want to be home if he’s in the house.”

  “Oh, my God,” exclaimed Millie, “Have you told Ty? He’ll kill him.”

  “No, Mill, I haven’t. When I get to see Ty, he’s in no state to deal with it.” Liz looked at Millie, “Our first date, he mentioned how much he used to enjoy rowing, that he hadn’t done it in ages and that he missed it.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I got him a new racing shell. It was delivered last week.” Liz had smoothed the hull with her hand, admiring the deep, glossy green of the surface, hoping the gift would reconnect Ty to better times and lead him out of his downward spiral.

  “Must have cost you a fortune,” said Milli
e. “What did he say?”

  “If it does what I hope it will, it’s worth it,” Liz answered. “And no, he hasn’t seen it. He hasn’t come home before 11 PM for the last month. And he hasn’t been alone or sober. The time hasn’t been right.” Liz sighed.

  “You tried to tell me, Mill. The night of the Barrister’s Ball, you tried to tell me he had a drinking problem, but I didn’t listen.” Liz was silent for a couple of minutes.

  “You know, Millie, I’ve been wishing and praying that this would pass; all I’d have to do is wait it out.” Liz bit her lip. “Now I’m not so sure. I don’t know how much further down he can sink and I can’t stop it. I know he hates me seeing him like this. I’m thinking this relationship was a huge mistake and it may be time to undo it.”

  She continued almost unconsciously, “It’s been at least two weeks since I’ve been able to make him smile or laugh. I lost him, Millie, if I even really had him in the first place.”

  Millie opened her mouth to say something, then snapped it shut and slammed the brakes.

  “Liz, don’t look.” Millie scrambled out of the car.

  Liz knew. She dove out of her side and bolted for the pathetic little bundle of white and black fur in the road just ahead of the car.

  “Oh, Beanie.”

  He was still alive, but there was a trickle of blood from his nose. Blood was slowly leaking from a long laceration on his side. At least one of his legs was obviously broken and his eyes were glazed. Liz whipped off her sweatshirt while Millie yanked a floor mat out of the car.

  “Easy, easy, easy,” cautioned Liz as they slid him as gently as possible onto the floor mat. Beanie tried to meow but couldn’t make the sound. Horns began to honk behind Millie’s Saab. One guy yelled something and Millie fired back with, “Fuck you! This is an emergency!” as they lifted Beanie. The harassment ended when the drivers saw what they were doing. Millie helped Liz ease Beanie and herself into the back seat. Liz glanced out the window and spotted the carcass of a squirrel in the lane across from where they’d found Beanie.