by Cooper, Doug
Jade emerged from under the table with the used condom pinched between her fingers. “I’m going to go freshen up.”
Max smacked her ass as she scurried away. His words slurred. “Don’t be long. I’m almost ready for round two.” He refastened his pants, not even bothering to zip them up.
Crystal sat back in the booth next to Max, using the napkins on the table to dry the champagne off her chest.
Max leaned over, pushing his head toward her chest. “Here, let me lick that up.”
“Easy, tiger.” Crystal pushed him back into the booth. “Give me a minute.” She expected him to come back stronger, but he slid lower into the booth. As she finished drying herself off, she heard a low snore from his direction.
Jade came back, shaking her shoulders. “So who’s ready for more?”
Crystal pressed her finger to her lips, speaking in a whisper. “Passed out.”
“What should we do?” Jade asked.
Crystal, said, “Fuck it. Let the baby sleep.”
And so for the next several hours they did just that. Each hour, Jade just went to Darius and told him that Max wanted to extend for another hour. Since it was an Amex black card, there was no chance it would be declined, and since the club had his thumbprint, there was no way he could dispute the charge. After the champagne was gone, they ordered another bottle and just tipped the waitress extra to not say anything. They ended up having quite a fun evening with him, or rather on him, much more than if he had been awake. They took turns posing for pictures with him, like he was a doll at some sort of twisted tea party.
At around six in the morning, with the bill over five thousand dollars, both of them pretty drunk and tired themselves and completely out of coke, they decided enough was enough and carefully woke him up. He was so out of it, he didn’t realize he had even passed out.
Dow Jones Close: 16,027.59
Chapter Eighteen
Date: Friday, December 16, 2011
Dow Jones Open: 11,825.29
Darlene had tried to reconcile Bill and Hughie many times—sometimes subtly and sometimes not so subtly—in the first few years after Hughie moved out. But each attempt was met with the same stubborn resistance from both sides. Neither was willing to admit he was the wrong one. Bill couldn’t forgive Hughie for jeopardizing his and Darlene’s future, putting his career at risk, and embarrassing him in front of his friends and colleagues. Hughie argued Bill was always a police officer first and a father second.
Even though Hughie ended up getting off with a fine, twelve months of probation, drug counseling, and periodic drug screening—all of which he completed with no problems—he refused to acknowledge that Bill’s service record and relationships had anything to do with the lighter sentencing. Instead Hughie dwelled on how he never would have been in that position if Bill would’ve handled it as a family matter.
And in the middle of all the rationalization, resentment, and good intentions was Darlene, always trying to negotiate the peace. At first she seemed to think both just needed more time, that the wounds would eventually scab and heal and they could be a family again. She would remind Bill of Hughie’s birthday, reminisce about the past, and even let details slip about Hughie’s life to Bill, like the high marks he was receiving at Rutgers, when he got a girlfriend, and how he got accepted to law school. Bill assumed Darlene did the same with Hughie about him. But despite her persistent and well-meaning efforts, none of it softened Bill. It just made him more certain that he had done the right thing, that by turning Hughie in, he had taught his son a valuable lesson that shaped his character and put him on a path for success. Over the years Bill had watched countless people parade through the station blaming others for their misfortune rather than taking personal responsibility. They never accepted that being arrested might have actually prevented future unfortunate outcomes. Instead they chose to focus on what happened as a result of the action instead of the worse events that were avoided. Bill was OK with the criticism for how he handled Hughie’s situation. Anytime he had doubts about what he had done, he looked at all the good that happened in Hughie’s life afterward. In Bill’s eyes, he saved Hughie. There was no way he was ever going to apologize for that. He had forgiven Hughie for making bad choices, but if there was an apology to be made, Bill was going to be on the receiving end.
This was how so many years passed with nothing changing. Bill’s and Hughie’s paths neither converged nor diverged. They just ran parallel. Regardless of how much Darlene tried to get the two to intersect, they remained a safe distance from each other. Bill had his life in New Jersey, and Hughie had his as a lawyer in New York City. After a while, Darlene stopped trying to force a reconciliation. She became content with being in the middle and having one hand in each of their lives. That’s at least what she told Bill when he recognized she hadn’t been pushing for them to get together any longer. She said she was happy with her life with Bill and pleased to see Hughie’s life taking a positive direction.
That wasn’t to say Bill ever thought Darlene gave up all hope. She was just being more discreet. Bill had noticed that, despite not talking about it, she still liked to leave reminders around the house, like the article Hughie wrote for the school paper, his graduation announcement from Rutgers, his acceptance to University of Virginia law school, and his wedding announcement. All of them Bill read with great pride and satisfaction, but he never said anything, and neither did Darlene.
As any of the important dates approached, Darlene would just make arrangements to go alone. What no one else knew was once she was gone, Bill would go too and stay just far enough away that no one would know he was there, but he was close enough to feel a part of it. As a policeman, he knew how to keep a safe distance. He watched Hughie walk across the commencement stages and receive his diplomas at Rutgers and UVA; he saw countless meals with Darlene and Hughie and his girlfriend and eventual fiancée, Grace; and he watched Hughie and Grace exit the church for the first time as husband and wife.
When the event was about Bill—when he made police captain, when he won officer of the year, and on his sixtieth birthday—he often scanned the perimeter to catch a glimpse of Hughie. Bill liked to think Hughie was out there somewhere, too, watching from a distance like Bill had done so many times before.
When Bill decided to retire, it was no different. On the way to the retirement party, Bill came right out and asked Darlene. “Did you tell Hughie and Grace about the party?”
Darlene feigned surprise. “Now, why on earth would I do that? If you wanted him to know, you should’ve told him yourself.”
“Come on, Darlene,” Bill said. “I know all those notes and articles over the years I’ve found about him were left intentionally.”
“Did you want me to invite him?” Darlene asked. “’Cause I can call him right now—or better yet, you call him.” She extended her mobile phone toward him.
Bill kept both hands on the wheel and eyes on the road. “No, I was just wondering.”
“William Price, I have put up with this baloney for too many years,” Darlene said, still holding out the phone. “I’m tired of being in the middle. If you want him there, call him and say so for yourself.”
Bill shook his head. “That’s OK. I just wanted to prepare myself in case he was going to be there.”
Despite Darlene’s denial, all night Bill watched the door of the Fraternal Order of Police hall where the party was held. Regardless of the conversation or activity he was engaged in, if someone entered, Bill’s eyes flashed in that direction. His preoccupation did not go unnoticed by Darlene. At one point she took his hand and said, “I told you, if you wanted him here so badly, you should’ve had me invite him.” Bill did not respond to her comment, but when the next person appeared in the doorway, Bill’s eyes were the first to greet that person.
The retirement party had been all Darlene’s idea. If it were up to Bill, he would�
�ve skipped the whole thing and just gone out to dinner with Darlene. He had told her as much, and it was her insistence on having the party that made him think she had bigger plans. Bill never liked being the center of attention. He was more comfortable hanging back, observing, ready to act only as a last resort. That was probably what made him such a good police officer. He let the situation dictate what response was necessary, and was more interested in diffusing than initiating action. That’s also probably why he had such a hard time letting go of what happened between him and Hughie. Bill knew that, by taking Hughie down to the police station, he had completely left his comfort zone and overreacted, but he couldn’t bring himself to undo any of it.
Watching Darlene at the party and seeing how happy she was, Bill recognized that the celebration was about more than the divide between Bill and Hughie or giving Bill the send-off he so rightly deserved. The party was actually for Darlene. It was the milestone she had been looking forward to more than any other. The end of Bill’s career as a police officer was the end of her worry. No longer would she have to stiffen at the sound of every siren, wondering if it was Bill rushing to danger; or avoid all news reports until Bill returned safely home each night; or crease the carpet, pacing, if he wasn’t home when he was supposed to be. The party officially signified that those days were behind her, and the part of her life—the one she had always dreamed of, where it would be just the two of them—was beginning.
So while each of Bill’s friends and colleagues delivered toast after toast in his honor, and while each one got longer and more sentimental as the alcohol took over, Bill just smiled and gazed upon the remarkable woman seated next to him and promised himself that every moment going forward would be about her and making up for everything he had put her through.
As the chief spoke about Bill’s career and prepared to present him with a plaque for his thirty-seven years of service, Bill knew everyone would be expecting him to say a few words. Darlene, aware how much he hated public speaking, had coached him on the moment. She had said, “Now, you don’t have to talk long. Just thank everybody for coming and for their friendship and support over the years. You can talk as long or as little as you like, but you have to say something.”
But the thing was, in that moment, as the chief said his final words and extended the plaque toward Bill amongst all the applause and jeers for a speech, Bill knew exactly what he was going to say and what he was going to do. He had planned to wait until they got home, but seeing how happy Darlene was, he knew there was no use in waiting any longer. She had waited long enough.
Bill shook the chief’s hand with the right while receiving the plaque with the left, holding the pose so the photographer Darlene had hired for the party could capture the moment. As Bill lowered the plaque to his side, the chief retained hold of his right hand and pulled him in for a hug with the left, eliciting cheers of “Get a room!” from the well-lubricated attendees. Darlene told Bill later that she had never seen him so red.
As the chief returned to his table and the hoots and gibes faded, Bill read the plaque, and then looked out at all the men and women that had been such a big part of his life.
“Well, you know I’m not one for speeches. If a person strings ten words together in a sentence, in my opinion they probably used four too many—of course, excluding you, Chief.” He nodded toward the chief, eliciting laughter from the audience.
“You don’t have to kiss his ass anymore,” someone yelled, causing more crowing from the crowd.
“No, I suppose I don’t,” Bill said. “In all seriousness, I’d like to thank the chief and all the officers and staff for the support over the years.” He looked at the plaque again. “Thirty-seven years. To me it seems like yesterday I was just getting out of the academy. But I know one person who doesn’t feel that way. For her, the time has not flown by at all. She has lived every second of these past thirty-seven years, probably many times over. You see, the life of a police officer is toughest on the spouse. When we’re not home, they worry about if we’re coming home, and then when we are home, they have to deal with what we went through while we were away. There’s very little off-the-clock time for our spouses.
“As many of you know, Darlene and I have been going to Vegas every summer for as long as I can remember. Now, we’re not big gamblers. We just like getting lost in the shuffle out there. The last few years we’ve been talking about what we’re going to do after I retired, and during the last trip to Vegas, we even went as far as to look at a place.” Bill removed a paper from the breast pocket of his jacket and looked toward Darlene. “Well, honey, I bought that place.” He held out the plaque in one hand and the paper in the other. “I’d like to dedicate tonight to all of our families and especially to my sweet Darlene. Thanks for the past thirty-seven, and here’s to thirty-seven more in Vegas.”
As much as Darlene had planned everything for the party, judging by the look on her face, she hadn’t anticipated this. Tears streamed down, but her smile had never been wider. She blew a kiss toward Bill. Forgetting all the other people in the room, he walked over, set the plaque and paper on the table, and lifted her up into his arms. He said, “You don’t ever have to worry about me leaving you again.”
Dow Jones Close: 11,868.81
Chapter Nineteen
Date: Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Dow Jones Open: 10,526.42
In a Midwestern sports town like St. Louis, when the starting goalie of the NHL team starts dating and eventually marries the most popular local TV sports reporter, it’s more than news. It’s a downright modern fairy tale. It harkened the public back to a simpler time, when the quarterback dated the prom queen, and people weren’t consumed with jealousy and resentment and actually wanted them to make it. Penny and Alec were local royalty. St. Louis was not known for having a lot of paparazzi, but when Penny and Alec were in public, a crowd formed and flashes popped. People could not get enough of their storybook romance. Unfortunately the security the fans felt in the mob fostered brashness and invaded Penny and Alec’s privacy. The more public the setting and the more that people gathered around them, the more personal the questions became. First it was, How did you meet? then, Was it serious? Whose house do you sleep at? When are you getting married? and almost immediately after the ceremony, When are you starting a family?
None of the other questions bothered Penny because she knew the answer and just chose not to share. But when it came to the family question, she wasn’t sure. The whole courtship had been such a whirlwind that they had never really discussed it. Both were so busy with their careers and the wedding, what little time they did have was focused on more pressing needs, not looking into the future.
Penny had always had a strict no-kids policy. Maybe it was because her mom deserted her dad and her when she was only three. Maybe it was because her dad died when she was a junior in college and she was left all alone. Whatever the reason, she knew she never wanted to be responsible for another human being. If a guy she was dating asked her about children or even looked with that goofy smile and fond “someday” resolution at a child, she broke up with him, or at least demoted him from boyfriend to occasional booty call. After one scare in college, she never had even a single close call. Her birth control had control. It was like a safe locked inside a vault in the secret room of an impenetrable fortress, surrounded by a wall with a moat. Nothing was ever going to make it through again. It wasn’t the children she ultimately was afraid of; it was the impact on her career. If she was going to give something up, it was kids. Even if she didn’t have to relinquish her job completely, she knew the whole kid thing would at least slow her down. She wouldn’t be as mobile, and her life would no longer be as simple. Regardless of what others told her, with all other characteristics being equal, if a promotion came down to a person with baggage and one without, the person with kids in tow would lose every single time.
What bothered Penny so much w
hen they questioned her and Alec about children was the sudden shift the question triggered. It was no longer just about what she wanted. The path on the map she had been following had suddenly merged with another. For the first time in as long as she could remember, how, when, and in which direction the new path would continue was unknown. After the wedding she knew her life was going to change and that she would need to compromise on some things, but she had never realized she would have to chart an entire new course.
Later that night at home, Penny walked into their bedroom in her robe, toweling her hair. Alec was in bed, watching the sports highlights on the flat-screen TV hanging on the wall in front of the bed. She said, “I still get shocked by what complete strangers will ask us. Just because we both work in the public eye, our entire lives are on display.”
“To tell you the truth, I don’t even hear them anymore.” Alec aimed the remote and turned off the TV. “You referring to something specific or just in general?”
“I don’t know.” She walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. “Just in general, I guess. They get so personal, like they actually know us.”
“Can you blame them?” Alec leaned forward and kissed her. “They fall in love with you the same way I did.”
Penny pushed him away playfully. “Like they’re really interested in me. There are a lot more hockey fans than news fans.” She rose from the bed and ambled over to the mirrored closet doors, wrapping the towel around her head and flipping the end back like a turban. “You know, we never really did talk much about a family.”
“What’s there to talk about? I just assumed you never wanted kids.”