ONE SMALL VICTORY

by Maryann Miller

  “Nice place,” Ralph said, gesturing around the living room. “I don’t think I told you that when I was here...before.”

  Jenny sat down on the sofa. “We were a little busy.”

  Ralph nodded, as if acknowledging the understatement of the year. “How’ve you been holding up?”

  “So-so.” Jenny dropped her gaze before he could see the swell of tears. “You?”

  “I’m managing.” He looked around again. “Sometimes it’s so hard to believe it’s real. I can go days without remembering, then, bam. It hits me.”

  “I don’t have that luxury.”

  Ralph winced as if she’d slapped him and drained half his bourbon.

  Jenny resisted the urge to continue to pummel him with all the angry, hateful things that came to mind. It would feel so good to just beat up on someone. But she realized he was already a crushed man. He’d lost a son he’d hardly known and had to live with regrets the rest of his life.

  The only regret she had was that she’d never see Michael’s future. The past had pretty much been okay between them.

  “I’m sorry.” Jenny tried a slight smile. “Sometimes my mouth opens before I’ve exercised any caution.”

  “Sometimes? That was one of—” He stopped, shook his head, then took a deep breath and faced her again. “Truce?”

  She hesitated, not sure about giving up the anger quite yet. He’d just waltzed in here, playing doting father, and she should just step back? Let him...? She stopped that run-away-train thought process. If there was to be any hope of keeping Ralph from screwing this whole deal, she needed to be reasonable. She nodded. “I’ll get us another drink.”

  Ralph handed his glass over, and Jenny stood, then walked into the kitchen. She poured generous amounts into each glass, then set the bottle down and glanced out the window above the sink. The bare branches of the elm stretched like black fingers into a moonlit sky, and against the inky silhouettes she could see parts of her face reflected in the glass. It was like looking at a bizarre Picasso painting.

  The analogy prompted an urge to laugh, but other emotions were too strong to allow it. She still had to answer that all-important question Ralph had asked when she’d first opened the door. And she was still no closer to knowing what to say than she had been then. Should she just tell him the truth?

  That was absurd. Of all the people she wanted to tell, Ralph was not even among the top ten.

  The living room was empty when she stepped through the doorway. She set the drinks down on the coffee table and walked down the hall. She heard the god-awful screech of guitar from behind Scott’s door. How she hated what some of those folks did to a fine instrument. She debated about knocking to see if he was okay, then realized he may be still talking to Caitlen. Although how they could converse in the midst of all that racket was a mystery.

  Alicia’s door was open, and Jenny rounded the doorway and stopped. The sight of Ralph sitting on the bed with Alicia snuggled next to him stole her breath away. The girl was turning pages in her painting tablet, sharing treasures she most often kept private.

  The scene was so poignant, Jenny felt tears warm her eyes, yet her heart hardened at the thought of how hurt Alicia would be if Ralph’s interest waned and things went back to the way they used to be.

  Or could this truly be a new and improved version of the father who had been so sorely missing all these years?

  Watching him caress their daughter’s arm, Jenny hoped the latter was true. Otherwise she might have to kill the bastard.

  Her husband and daughter looked up, and for a second Jenny was afraid she’d voiced that thought out loud. But Alicia smiled. She wouldn’t be smiling if Jenny had said something so awful. “I’m showing Daddy my pictures.”

  “I see.” Jenny stepped into the room. “But now it’s time to go to bed. You can finish sharing your art another time.”

  She held Ralph’s gaze in a silent plea for assurance that there would be another time. And soon.

  After Alicia was tucked in, they went back to the living room. Jenny motioned to the drinks on the table, and Ralph took his and settled in the chair.

  Silence reigned for what seemed like days, and Jenny could feel his eyes on her as she wandered through the room, adjusting a couch pillow, straightening a picture, sighing often.

  “Could you light somewhere,” he asked. “You’re making me tired just watching.”

  Jenny walked to the sofa and perched on the edge of one cushion. Maybe they could continue with small talk until they both fell asleep from sheer boredom. “How is work going?”

  “Talk to me, Jen.”

  God. He hasn’t used that pet name since— She stopped the thought, not wanting to remember those early years when she thought she’d been living every woman’s fantasy. “We are talking.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “Whatever it is that prompted your friend to call me.”

  Jenny stood. “She shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Too late now.”

  Jenny walked to the window and lifted the curtain to look out. Between the streetlamp on the corner and the moon, there was almost as much light outside as in. She counted the cars parked across the street. Somebody must be having a party. Then she turned and faced Ralph, waiting for his control to snap. Waiting for the old Ralph – the one who pushed and shouted and pressured her – to come back. But this new guy just sat, so still he could have been sewn to the fabric of the chair. That calm made her decision.

  “I have to call someone,” she said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Ralph didn’t say anything as they headed south on I 75; destination I-Hop in Plano where they’d meet Steve. It was so quiet in Ralph’s rental car; Jenny could hear the tires hum on the concrete.

  She’d been surprised when he hadn’t protested her phone call or pushed for an explanation. She hadn’t told him who she’d called or why, and he seemed to accept that this was the way it needed to be handled. He waited without a single question while she made arrangements for Scott to watch out for Alicia.

  Now the silence was beginning to grate. Jenny glanced over, studying Ralph’s profile. “You’re different, somehow.”

  “We all are since...”

  She waited a minute for him to finish, but he didn’t. “Since Michael died,” she said. “As painful as it is, it’s better to say it aloud.”

  “Better for whom?”

  The note of belligerence backed her off. It sounded too much like the old Ralph for comfort.

  “Never mind.” She turned to look out at the concrete and steel landscape streaming by.

  When they got to the restaurant, Jenny spotted Steve in a U-shaped booth in a far corner. Good choice. It was fairly private, and it gave each of them their own space. “We’re with him,” she said to the young, blonde hostess, before leading the way to the table.

  “Ralph, this is Lieutenant Steve Morrity. Little Oak PD.” She bit back an urge to laugh. God, I sound like I’m on some cop show on TV.

  Steve stood and shook hands, then slid to the middle of the booth. Jenny stepped aside so Ralph could go in next. She took the opposite end of the bench. Good neutral set up.

  Ralph glanced at Jenny, then back to Steve. “Why the cops? Is this about Michael’s accident?”

  “Loosely.”

  Again Ralph studied the two of them for a moment. “And does it have something to do with this nonsense Jenny is mixed up in?”

  “I’d hardly call it nonsense.” Steve smiled into Ralph’s glare, and Jenny noted the stark difference between the two men. The smile was nice. She cut her own off when she noticed Ralph giving her another speculative look.

  Before he could voice the question that had raised one of his eyebrows, the waitress, a tall woman with almond-colored skin and a controlled mass of dread-locks, stepped to the table, order pad ready. “What can I get you folks?”

  “Coffee all around?�
�� Steve glanced at Ralph and Jenny, who nodded.

  “No dinner? Dessert?” A flash of white teeth accompanied the questions and Jenny realized this woman should be gracing the cover of a top women’s magazine. Not pushing pancakes.

  She also realized that the tightness in her stomach was triggered by hunger as well as nerves. But she didn’t want to stall things by placing an order. “Maybe later.”

  The waitress brought back tall glasses of water, cups, and a thermal pot that she set in the middle of the table. “I’ll leave you folks to visit,” she said. “Just holler when you’re ready for dessert.”

  Steve poured for all of them.

  Watching the bluish sheen of acid swirl on top of the coffee in her cup, Jenny’s stomach rebelled, so she softened the coffee with a touch of cream and sugar.

  Ralph did the same, then set his spoon down and faced Steve. “Tell me what’s been going on with Jenny.”

  “She’s been working with us,” Steve said.

  That stopped Ralph in the middle of taking a swallow of coffee. He shot a quick glance at Jenny, then turned his attention back to Steve who continued, “Part of a drug task force.”

  Ralph’s cup clunked against the table. “You’re shitting me.”

  Steve shook his head. Ralph looked over at Jenny, eyes wide with amazement.

  “Guilty as charged,” she said.

  He sat back as if the revelation was too heavy to bear. “And just what is it you’re doing? Baking cookies for the guys?”

  Jenny was almost glad to hear the old needling tone in his voice. She’d been growing weary of the ‘nice’ Ralph. Something about his recent actions had been ringing false, like watching a performance by the kid who got the part in the school play because he was the only one to audition. She bit her lip to keep from saying something nasty.

  Steve looked at Ralph for a moment, seeming to take his measure. “She’s been a valuable asset to the team. Haven’t seen a single cookie.”

  It pleased Jenny to see Ralph back down. He fiddled with his spoon, twirling it in circles on the Formica tabletop.

  Steve continued. “We’ve been working about two months now. She’s made inroads into the local drug business, and we’re about to take down the big guy.”

  Now Ralph looked at her again, his expression vacillating between disbelief and something she couldn’t quite name. She tried to see the moment from his point of view. It had to be mind-boggling.

  He finally found his voice. “This is unbelievable.”

  “What?” she said. “You don’t think the little woman had it in her?”

  “There are lots of things I don’t know about you, Jen.”

  “Because you—” She shook her head, not wanting to engage in this verbal battle in front of Steve. She took a sip of coffee, which had cooled to perhaps a degree above tepid.

  “Didn’t you even give a damn about the danger. The kids?”

  “Hold on, there.” Steve grabbed Ralph’s arm, but Ralph shrugged out of the touch.

  “It’s all right, Steve.”

  He looked at Jenny. “You sure?”

  She nodded.

  Ralph glanced at her, then at Steve. “How could you let her?”

  He smiled. “She’s a force to be reckoned with.”

  “You think this is a joke?”

  “Do I look like someone who would joke about something like this?”

  Jenny leaned forward and touched Ralph’s hand before hostilities broke out. “This is something I wanted to do. Something I needed to do. They’re selling drugs at the school for God’s sake.”

  “Couldn’t you just step back and let the cops do their job?”

  “That’s part of the problem, Ralph. Everyone expects the cops to handle it. But it’s too big for that. It’s like pissing into the wind.”

  Jenny saw Steve smile again, and she hoped the tension would ease all around. Ralph shot a glance from her to Steve, then back again. “What is this? Fucking Comedy Central?”

  “Ralph.” She waited until the flush of anger receded from his face. “You need to keep your voice down.

  ”

  “What I need...” He leaned so close she could feel his breath on her face. “Is my ex-wife to stop putting my kids in danger.”

  “So now you’re suddenly worried about—”

  “Cease fire.” Steve waved a napkin between them.

  “Don’t tell me—”

  Steve grabbed Ralph’s arm, pulling him against the backrest. “I will tell you,” Steve said. “And you’ll bloody well listen. There is no way you are screwing up this deal for us. You hear me? No way.”

  “Everything okay here, folks?”

  Jenny looked up to see the waitress, concern furrowing her perfect forehead and dark eyes carefully assessing the group. Jenny forced a smile. “We’re fine.”

  The waitress shot a speculative look to the men, then back to Jenny. “You want that dessert now?”

  Despite the rumble in her stomach, Jenny shook her head, mentally urging the woman to just walk away. After another hesitation, she did; but Jenny knew the woman would be back if Ralph didn’t ratchet his emotions down several notches.

  For a moment it was like nobody knew what to say. Jenny reached for her coffee cup, then reconsidered and took a sip of water. Then she looked at her ex-husband who had his arms folded across his chest. “I understand your concern, Ralph.”

  “Then it won’t be that hard to step aside, will it?”

  His words hung in the air like autumn leaves stopped in mid-flight, his posture daring her to accept his challenge

  .

  “That’s not even a possibility,” she said.

  Ralph shook his head. “Fucking drug deals. My ex. The mother of my children is making fucking drug deals.”

  “Why don’t we get you a microphone?” Steve said.

  “You stay out of it. This is between me and Jenny.”

  “Not exclusively. There’s a whole lot of folks that have been busting their asses to get this guy.”

  “And have they put their families at risk?”

  “The only risk here has been telling you.

  ”

  Ralph opened his mouth, then shut it as if words were stuck inside and couldn’t get out. Steve poured more coffee, took a sip and then set his cup down. “I’m serious,” he said. “We’re working her as a Confidential Informant. You know what that is?”

  “I’ve seen my share of cop shows on TV.”

  Jenny caught the undercurrent of sarcasm, but either Steve didn’t or he chose to ignore it.

  “So she has this whole other identity with the dealers. No way can they connect her with the kids.”

  He’s right,” Jenny said, hoping she could add ammunition to Steve’s assurance. “They don’t know my real name. Or where I live. I’ve never even let them see the car.”

  “So? Based on this nice little speech I’m supposed to sit back and—”

  “No,” Steve said. “You’ll keep your mouth shut because we chose to trust you with this information.”

  Ralph picked up his spoon again and made circles in the puddle of condensation from his water glass. Jenny watched, wondering if he would respond to the invitation to do the principled thing. Ralph might have been delinquent as a husband and father, but he lived by some machismo code of duty. A man stood for justice. Had Steve somehow figured that out in this brief encounter? That he could appeal to some sense of honor?

  “It’s only for a few more days,” Steve said.

  “Is that true?” Ralph directed the question at Jenny. She nodded.

  “When exactly?”

  “That’s a piece of information you can’t have,” Steve said.

  “And what do I do between now and this unspecified date?”

  Jenny winced at the goading tone in his voice. “What do you think? Go back home. Go to work.”

  “No way in hell. I’m not leaving. I’ll stay out at the house. Be there in case—”

/>   Jenny touched his arm. “Nothing’s going to happen.”

  He pulled away. “And you can guarantee that?”

  “Nothing in life is certain, Ralph. We both know it.” She waited a moment for the message to sink in. “Just go—”