Her Something Impetuous

by Hunt Harris, Kim

  She thought it was all a ploy to get back at Michael.

  She was more mad at him than she was at Michael. She didn’t even care that the jackass had set her up to take a fall so he could bolster his career.

  “What’s your problem?” Bear asked when he finished up with the bald guy and there was a short lag.

  Will frowned. “Nothing. I got the DA off our backs.”

  Bear nodded. “Good news. You look real happy about it.”

  Will groaned and leaned back, propping himself against the wall. “Yeah, well…” He didn't know what to say.

  “I know what you mean.” Bear crossed his arms over his chest. “So the crisis is gone and so is the woman.” He shook his head, his braided beard wagging slowly. “That's the way it goes, though. It's not like anything between you two was going to be a long term deal anyway.”

  Will nodded, staring at his hands. Then he lifted his head. “And just why the hell not?”

  Bear shrugged, nonplussed. “You tell me.”

  He was being baited and he knew it. And didn't feel like debating the never-discussed-but-ever-present class system and its cruelties with a man whose prescription for life’s most troublesome situations was Jack Daniels-sleep-repeat until things looked better.

  Will stood. “Can I borrow your car for a while? I need to get out of here.”

  Bear reached into the pocket of the baggy shorts that came down to his knees and tossed his keys at Will. “No problem. Just remember I've got a fifth upstairs if you need it.”

  Will drove around Piedmont for a while, trying to focus on the future. He was as free as a bird. He didn’t have to worry about Michael anymore, ever. In fact he could probably get away with robbing the Piedmont National Bank right now if he wanted to. No one would touch him. He could go anywhere he wanted. That was important to him, and one of the reasons he loved his life. He was free to make his own choices, get up and leave in the middle of the night if he wanted to, travel the globe if it suited him.

  So why was he driving around Piedmont in the dark? Why wasn't he back at the shop packing for New Orleans?

  He stopped at a red light and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. He looked at the home address Steve had given him. Then he lifted the envelope of pictures out of his shirt pocket.

  He flipped through the pictures under the red glow of the traffic light. To his dismay he realized he felt sorry for Michael Way, was embarrassed for him. The bastard didn't deserve any of his pity, but Will felt sorry for him anyway.

  He couldn't imagine what was going through Michael's mind at the moment. Horror at his secret being discovered, panic at the possibility of his illegal indiscretions coming to light. Will knew too well what facing possible jail time felt like. But he’d never known what it was like knowing he was guilty.

  A horn behind Will honked and he jerked, then laid the pictures on the seat and drove. He found Steve's house and was surprised to see a light still on. He parked on the street and after a few moments’ mental debate he went up and knocked softly.

  Steve answered in t-shirt and flannel pants. His face was drawn and he stooped even more than he had the other day.

  He gave Will a tight smile. “Hey,” he said, stepping back. “What kind of trouble are you causing at this hour of the night? Marcy's asleep, so let's go out to the den.”

  Will followed him to a sunken room at the back of the house. Steve motioned for Will to take a seat on the sofa, and he lowered himself slowly into a wooden chair across from the sofa.

  “I'm glad you came by. I couldn't sleep. It's nice to have someone to pass the time with.”

  “Pain?” Will asked.

  Steve was clearly in a good deal of pain, but he wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “Just can't get comfortable. I took some of the pills that are supposed to help but they haven't kicked in yet.” He shifted in his seat. “What are you doing out at this hour? Don't you have someone to decorate?”

  “Bear has it under control.”

  Steve smiled and nodded. “Good old Bear. He used to scare the hell out of me, you know. “

  “He still scares me. You should hear the man snore. It's inhuman.” Will took a deep breath. “I've got Michael.”

  “Got him?” Steve raised an eyebrow.

  “By the short hairs.”

  “That was quick. I'm impressed.”

  “Don't be. It fell into my lap.”

  “Which is when you say, “Thank you” and go for it.”

  Will forced a smile and leaned back, waiting for the feeling of satisfaction and triumph to wash over him. Instead he felt only dread.

  “For a man who's about to fulfill a lifelong mission you're looking decidedly morose, my friend.”

  Steve waited in silence while Will debated how much to tell. He finally decided he wanted to tell it all, to drag it all out and look at the situation clearly, with a straight head and an impartial judgment to guide him. He’d always valued Steve’s opinion and he needed some clear thinking right now.

  He began with Karen coming into the shop that first night and about finding out she was Michael's wife. Steve listened without comment or expression while Will ran through the entire week, touching on the information he'd gotten from the officer in New Orleans that morning, and telling just enough about the bizarre scene in Denise's closet to make sure Steve could surmise all the pertinent details.

  “You weren't kidding,” Steve said “You could probably do anything you wanted to him right now.”

  Will sank in his seat, suddenly exhausted. “Yeah.”

  Steve sat in silence for a moment. “Be careful what you wish for, huh?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He reached over and squeezed Will’s knee. “I know Karen. Not well, but well enough to know she’s really special. You've always wanted a way to get even with Michael, to best him. Now you can, and if you do it's going to ruin everything else important to you.”

  Will sighed and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Yeah, well…it looks like that's already ruined.”

  “And it's not like you can let this get swept under the carpet, Will. The man needs to be removed from office. So whether Karen gets hurt or not, you have to proceed.”

  “I know.” Will groaned and looked at his locked fingers. “I wish I’d never come back to Piedmont.”

  “I know you don’t mean that.”

  “Hell yes, I do.” An investigation of Michael Way meant months in town, doing interviews, drumming up more witnesses, fighting to have cases reopened. There was no easy way to make sure all the damage Michael had done was undone. It would be a slow, arduous task.

  And Karen would be just down the road, every moment.

  “How about I just drop the entire mess in your lap and let you deal with it,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  Will jerked his head up. “Seriously?”

  “Of course. You’re going to need a lawyer anyway. No reason we can’t take it from here.”

  “What are you committing us to now?”

  Marcy walked through the door, tightening the belt of her robe around her. She bent over Steve’s chair and dropped a quick kiss on his lips.

  Will was embarrassed to feel a sudden tightness in his throat at the casual intimacy. He’d always assumed that someday he’d have that with a woman. Someday.

  “Will has enough ammunition to bring Michael Way down,” Steve announced. “But he’s going to let me pull the trigger.”

  “He’s making it sound a lot easier than it’s going to be,” Will said. He kept the pictures tucked inside his shirt pocket. Every time he thought about offering them to Steve to use as leverage, he saw the betrayal in Karen’s eyes.

  They talked for a few minutes about the officer in New Orleans and what kind of investigating lay ahead of them.

  “One witness is not going to be enough,” Marcy said. “We’ll need more to bolster our case.”

  “It’ll be a place to start,” Steve said.r />
  Will watched as he shifted again. He didn’t know if it was excitement about a new challenge, or the fact that Marcy was sitting curled up beside him, her hand on his knee, but Steve looked much improved already.

  “We’ll take what this guy gives us and go from there. One thing always leads to another. One witness always leads to another. We’ll take what this guy gives us and bluff the rest.” He squeezed Marcy’s hand. “We can do this. You know we can.”

  Will felt like a voyeur, watching the silent play that sang between them. “I’ll call you tomorrow with the guy’s information.” He started to stand. “Thanks, man. I owe you.”

  “Don’t leave now. You haven’t gotten to the part about how you’re going to run back and beg Karen’s forgiveness.”

  “Karen?” Marcy cocked her head. “Karen Way? I love her.”

  “So does Will.”

  “Good for you. And I don’t know the story, but begging forgiveness is always a good idea.”

  Will gave a half-laugh and shook his head. “I doubt it’s going to work.”

  “Karen thinks Will was using her to get at Michael.” Steve gave Will a hard look. “And unless I miss my guess you were, at least in the beginning.”

  “I was, and I will apologize – if she’ll let me. But it won’t matter. It goes way beyond just this…situation with Michael. We’re just…too different.”

  “How’s that?” Marcy asked, tucking her feet under her.

  “Yeah Will. How’s that?”

  “We just are.”

  “How?”

  “Come on. You know how it is.” He lifted his shoulders. “She’s…she’s country club and I’m tattoo parlor.”

  Marcy and Steve both nodded solemnly. Then Marcy laughed.

  “What?” Will asked.

  Steve started to laugh, too. They looked at each other, threw their heads back, and roared.

  Will frowned. “What? What’s so damn funny?”

  Marcy wiped tears from her eyes. “Nothing, really. Sorry. It’s just…” Then she was off again, bent over and laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe.

  “What the hell?” Will asked, feeling helpless and stupid.

  “I’m sorry, man. Really. It’s just that’s the same –”

  “That’s the same lame excuse Steve used with me. ‘We’re too different.’ ‘We have nothing in common.’ ‘I’m too old for you.’ ‘You’re too good for me’.”

  “Don’t forget the cane,” Steve laughed.

  “Oh yeah. ‘I use a cane. I have an incurable disease.’ ” She giggled some more.

  “And that’s funny?” Will stood. “Okay, I’ve got to go.”

  “Yes, it’s funny. You men are so comical. You wrap your hang-ups around you and pretend like they’re impenetrable armor.”

  “But I’m not –”

  “Don’t even try, man,” Steve said. “You can’t win with her.”

  “You don’t really think women believe that bullshit, do you?”

  “But…” Will blinked. What could he possibly say now?

  “But you believe it, I know.” Marcy leaned toward him, still grinning. “Will. It’s bullshit. We can see right through it. Give it up.”

  Will raised his hands. “It’s not like –”

  “Like you’re grasping at straws because you’re terrified? Making up reasons to run and hide. You doofus, class differences went the way of the dodo bird.”

  “She’s right,” Steve said. “Take it from me, Will. Life’s too short to make up excuses.”

  “I’m not making up anything.”

  “Get over yourself. So you two grew up in a different neighborhoods? Big deal.”

  Steve leaned over and said softly. “It’s more of a secret father thing.”

  “Oh yeah.” Marcy waved a hand. “You told me about that.”

  “You told her?” Will wanted to punch Steve.

  “Oh Will, come on. Stop insisting on carrying baggage around that isn’t yours,” Marcy said.

  “Stop discussing my personal life like it’s a sitcom.”

  “It’s not your personal life. If I understand you right, you’re choosing not to have a personal life because of something that has nothing to do with you.”

  “Nothing to do with me? The circumstances of my birth have nothing to do with me?” Why was he even standing here listening to this? It was late, he was tired, he didn’t have to put up with being analyzed by someone infinitely unqualified to do so.

  “So your conception wasn’t exactly textbook. Big deal.”

  “Big deal. You are unbelievable.”

  “What if I told you that Steve’s dad is a convicted murderer? That we go see him two times a year and take him copies of Audubon Magazine and oatmeal raisin cookies?”

  Will sat back down and looked at Steve. “Is that…is that true?”

  Steve nodded. “What’s more, he’s not one of the wrongfully convicted.”

  “Now that you know, that changes the way you look at Steve, doesn’t it? He’s not the person you thought he was.”

  Will shook his head. “Of course not. Whatever his father did has nothing to do with who he is…” He trailed off and frowned. “I get your point. But it’s not the same and you know it.”

  “It is the same.” Marcy squeezed Will’s knee. “And you know it.”

  “Get on with your life, Will.”

  “It’s just that easy, huh?”

  “No, it’s not that easy. But it’s impossible if you insist on clinging to your hang-ups.”

  Will opened his mouth to put a stop to this intrusive nonsense, but stopped. This conversation was eerily familiar…

  “Seriously, Will.” Steve leaned forward and faced Will squarely. “You’re wasting time. Get over yourself and go over there. Tell her you’re sorry. Tell her you were wrong. Tell her you want to start over.”

  “Stand up and be a man,” Marcy said.

  “That was too far,” Steve told her.

  Marcy winced. “Yes, I sensed that as soon as I said it. Sorry, Will.” She stood and tucked her arm in his. “You don’t look so hot.”

  “I don’t really feel that great,” he admitted. What had just happened?

  “Maybe you ought to go home and call Karen. Better yet, go to her house. She won’t mind if you wake her up.”

  Will allowed himself to be lead out the front door.

  “Don’t look so tragic, Will.” Marcy patted him on the back. “It’s just a little neurosis. You won’t miss it. Wave bye-bye to your inferiority complex. Bye-bye.” She lifted his hand and waved it. “Say hello to an adult relationship.”

  “You are seriously irritating, you know that?” Will dug Bear’s keys out of his pocket.

  Marcy nodded. “I get that a lot. Now go on. Show Karen what a real relationship is like.”

  But he didn’t go. He drove to the edge of town, pulled over, and wondered how everything could so clear one moment and so unsure the next.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “So basically this is all the Shake Weight’s fault? The Shake Weight that I bought you?” Terri said late the next morning as they lined nametags alphabetically on the table inside the Rockridge Country Club meeting room.

  “Basically, yes.”

  “You give yourself a bloody nose with the Shake Weight. Will thinks Michael hit you and so does Brad. Brad waylays Michael in a back alley to avenge your honor, Michael believes it's Will who hit him. So he has Will set up with the drugs. You're caught in the crossfire.”

  “And Denise decides it’s a great way to make Michael look justified in leaving me. Improve his image by trashing mine.”

  “Right. But basically it all started with the Shake Weight. I hope you've learned your lesson.”

  “Abso-friggin-lutely. Exercise is bad.”

  Terri nodded. “And don't forget it.” She tapped some blank nametags against her hand, then lifted her eyes back to Karen. “Are you okay? I mean, with the whole thing about Michael?”


  “Who? Oh, him wearing women's clothes, you mean?” Karen shrugged. “I guess. I mean, it's weird. But it explains a lot. Why he didn't want me to lose weight, why he insisted on buying me all those tacky clothes.”

  “Do you really think he was wearing your clothes all this time?”

  “Oh yeah.” It gave her the willies to think of Michael buying things that were supposedly for her, but were probably for him all along. “He'd come home with some loud tacky printed skirt or blouse, and I'd thank him for it, and then I'd hang it in the back of the closet and hope he never mentioned it. I feel like an idiot that I never wondered why he never asked why I didn’t wear the clothes he bought me. I was just relieved that I somehow managed to keep from wearing those things in public.”

  “I don't think you're the one who should feel like an idiot. It's perfectly normal that a woman would assume her husband is not wearing her clothes.” She shook her head. “I can't quite see Arthur in one of my skirts.”

  “You know what makes me mad? Remember when I lost that chocolate leather bag he brought back from New York? I was worried sick about it, remember? The jerk probably had it with him.”

  “So…did he look good?”

  “Oh no, not from what I saw. He looked like a Halloween party.”

  “Good. I hate it when the drag queens look prettier than I do.”

  “Well, I don’t know if the pictures I saw were taken when Michael was having a bad hair day or what, but he wouldn’t win any beauty contests.” She straightened the precise lines of nametags that Midge had instructed them to make, ensuring everything was in alphabetical order. “It’s all just…very bizarre.”

  “Did he say anything about Pam coming home?”

  “I haven’t told him yet. I had other things on my mind at the time.”

  Terri laughed. “Remember when we were sitting around your table wondering what we could do to commemorate the end of your marriage? Something wild and crazy – impetuous? Well, you got wild and crazy all right. I’ll bet you’re ready to get things back to normal again.”

  “Yeah.” Karen sipped the cold Mimosa Terri had brought her from the bar, but it didn’t help.

  I was your something wild and crazy.