Chloe Babineaux Private Investigator
Page 35
####
I went to the grocery store on the way home. I was in short supply of cans of ravioli and cereal. Okay, I wanted beer too. And ice cream.
I took my time walking down the aisles, tossing things into my basket and returned to my apartment.
I saw Cody’s truck parked outside my apartment building. Not good. He had a key for emergencies but as far as I knew I wasn’t having an emergency. I carried my groceries to the door and slowly opened the door. If he and Morgan had a squabble, I didn’t want him to take it out on me by startling him.
Cody didn’t look startled; he looked comfortable. He was sitting in my recliner watching ESPN.
I lugged two large reusable bags inside, slammed the door and asked, “What are you doing here? Don’t you have a TV at your house? Or did your kids take it over watching Nickelodeon?”
“I need to talk to you,” he groaned.
“Well, don’t get to worked up about it,” I said dryly.
“Hphm,” he growled. “You cannot talk to that nun by yourself tomorrow.”
“Noted. What’s your problem? You usually have a semi-personality when you try to talk me out of doing something.” I brought the bags into the kitchen and started putting up the groceries.
“I’m tired,” he moaned. “Both the kids have tonsillitis, so we aren’t getting any rest.”
“Ah, I understand now,” I said and nodded. “You came over here on the pretense of talking me out of going to the nunnery when in actuality you wanted a break from whining children.”
He looked at me, barely holding his eyes open and nodded.
“Go lay down in my bed for a while.”
His eyes widened, he smiled and asked, “You don’t mind?”
“No. Go.” What was I going to say? He looked so pathetic. “What about Morgan? Won’t she be jealous?”
“No. She went to her sister’s house this afternoon to rest,” he said walking to my bedroom.
“Why didn’t you go to your parents’ house?” I called after him.
He stuck his head out the door and said, “If I would’ve gone there, Mama would’ve said, ‘I didn’t have any place to go when ya’ll were babies. And I had two the same age.’” He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I’m not in the mood to hear how hard she had it today.”
“Oh, yes, the Martyr Mom.” I gave him a closed-mouth smile. “Welcome to my world. I’m always told how when she was my age she had two kids in school and blah, blah, blah. I get it. Sleep. Set the alarm on your phone. You know how much sleep you need.”
He waved to me and closed the door to the bedroom.
Saturday evening TV was not the most exciting, so I switched to a music channel and picked up my book. As fun as that sounded, I was interrupted by my cell phone ringing. I was tempted not to answer it but it was Jesse, and I was curious, so I answered.
“Hey, Jesse,” I said.
“Hey, Chloe. What’s going on?” He sounded in a good mood.
“No. The question is, ‘How was lunch?’” I laughed.
“Lunch was good.” He hesitated, “And Suzanne’s great.”
“What’s with the hesitation?”
“Nothing…um…well, I screwed up.” He sounded despondent.
“Uh-oh…what did you do?” Did I want to know? No. Not really. But he did call me so…
“I slept with her,” he said softly.
“Was it that bad?” Dang. Suzanne looked like she would be really good. I didn’t actually know about Jesse. We broke up before we got that far.
“No. I didn’t think so. But when I went to the bathroom she said a friend, Tammy, called and said her car battery died and needed a jump.” Not good. There was no Tammy. Unless she really knew a Tammy in which case maybe Tammy’s car battery could have died. Hmm…curious.
“Jesse, you didn’t…uh…you didn’t…?”
“No!” he answered with a raised voice. “I would never do that. It was consensual. We had lunch, saw an early movie and then went back to her place. I really didn’t intend for it to happen.” He lowered his voice and added, “But it did happen. Now what?”
Was he asking me for relationship advice? How big of an idiot was he? Like I would know what he should do. I never had sex on a blind date. I hate blind dates. I could find my own bad dates, thank you very much.
“Okay, Jesse. Go see her tomorrow but not too early.” This will never work. “Don’t apologize. Never apologize for sex that belittles it. Tell her you want to get to know her and for her to get to know you.” Yeah, this might work. “Tell her you want to slow it down and take it from there. Don’t use my exact words. You know what I’m trying to say.” I don’t even know what I was trying to say. He could improvise.
“Okay, thanks,” he said more upbeat. “I’ll try that.” Please don’t call me if she threw you out on your butt. I really didn’t want to get in the middle of this. Hell, how would I know what he should do about having sex on a blind date? I didn’t have sex. I didn’t have sex before last night and wouldn’t have it again anytime soon.
My phone beeped to tell me I had another call. Rick was calling me. Now what? Was he going to ask me about relationships too?
“I have to go Jesse. I have a call on another line.” That was always a good excuse to hang up. It was Rick. Could this be good?
“Okay, bye.”
“Bye.” I disconnected.
“Hey.”
“Hey, Chloe. Guess who called me,” he laughed.
“Suzanne. She and Jesse had sex, and she’s either confused, or she wants a good excuse to get rid of him.” I ruined his surprise.
“Yeah. How did you know? Did Jesse just call you?” No. I have your phone tapped.
“Yes. He told me he and Suzanne had sex and then she made an excuse and threw him out.”
“She likes him, but they’re moving way too fast,” he said. “She also doesn’t like his car. He drives a 1988 Miata, and she doesn’t think it’s a car a real man drives.” He laughed.
“He had bought that car for his ex-wife because she wanted it.” I laughed. “But he was delivered the divorce papers at work before he could give it to her, so he kept the car out of spite.”
“That makes sense; I would have kept it too. Why didn’t he sell the car and buy another?”
“He says he would, but he likes driving it. It’s easy to park.” I laughed again and then added, “If he calls back, I’ll mention he might think about getting a manlier car like a Volkswagen bug.”
“Yeah. Do chicks dig men who drive a bug?” I could hear the laughter in his voice.
“I can’t speak for all women. But something tells me Suzanne wouldn’t. They can always go on dates in her car.” I wonder if my dates could borrow her car for our dates. Dates? What dates?
“She’d much rather go in her car. By the way, do you have plans tonight?” Was Suzanne the only reason he called, and while he had me on the phone he asked what I was doing? I would tell myself that he wanted to call me and Suzanne gave him the excuse.
I looked at the clock on the microwave and saw it was almost ten. It wasn’t that late, but I had no idea how long Cody was going to sleep.
I lowered my voice and said seductively, “I would love to tell you to get over here as fast as you can…but you can’t.”
“Why not?” he asked confused.
“Because I have a man in my bed,” I said. Take that, Mr. All I Have To Do Is Call, And You’ll Jump.
“What man? Is Johnny there?” He didn’t sound pleased. Man, I loved this.
I heard a door slam and his truck starting. Was he coming over here? He couldn’t. Cody was not in a good mood. This would not be pretty.
“No,” I laughed on an exhale. “Johnny is not here. Cody is. His kids have tonsillitis, and he’s exhausted. He’s taking a long nap. I don’t know how long he’ll be here.”
I heard him turn off his truck and another door slam. “Oh, okay. Good…I hope he gets some rest. We have a busy couple
of hours Monday.” I let it pass. I didn’t know if he would have admitted to wanting to come over here to beat up Johnny. And I didn’t know what to say to that. I had to admit; it made me feel—well, for lack of a better word—good. I didn’t usually like it when men acted all macho and wanted to fight anybody that walked past me. But in this case, since I actually had a man in my bed, it might have been worth a fight. Too bad it was my brother. I had been on dates in the last eight years; I just hadn’t slept with them.
The door opened, and Cody stood there rubbing his face with his hand.
“I have to go. Cody’s up. Bye, love you.”
“Oh…” That’s all I heard because I hung up the phone.
Oh. My. God! Did I just say that? I knew I didn’t just say, ‘love you.’ I needed to find a rock and bury myself under it. No, no, no! This was not happening! NOOO! I needed to call him up and tell him I did not just say what he thought I said.
Cody was looking at me funny. Maybe he didn’t hear me say…what I said. Yeah. He did not hear what I said. I did not hear what I said. I couldn’t even say what I said.
“Who was that?” Shit. He heard what I said. Or it could have been the expression on my face like I was going to throw myself in front of a bus.
The phone rang, and I held up the one finger hold on sign. It was Rick. Of course, it was Rick. Who else would it be? A genie telling me he was going to grant me my wish of turning back time five minutes? This was unbelievable. I didn’t tell men I loved them. Okay, I did but only to Cody and my father. I didn’t tell sexy men that I couldn’t see again I loved them. He was probably going to tell me, ‘Chloe, don’t worry about telling Cody about us because there is no us.’ Wait a minute. I didn’t say, ‘I love you.’ I said ‘love you.’ I left the noun I out. Yeah. That would work. Not. Oh, crap.
“Hello?” I answered softly.
Laughter. All I heard was laughter. I could barely understand him ask, “Did I hear you say…?”
“No, you didn’t,” I growled and hung up.
Cody was looking at me with a raised eyebrow, so I shook my head and said, “Wrong number.”
I crossed my arms in front of me and asked with a smile, “Nice nap? You feel better?”
“Yes, I do. Thanks for letting me crash.” He smiled. “I feel much better.”
“No problem.”
I had to keep the expression on my face even. I couldn’t let him know I was freaking out. I was more than freaking out. How could I have done that? It was a habit to say that to the people I care about, i.e. my parents, Cody and Morgan. I didn’t say that to my friends. I loved them, but I didn’t tell them on the phone unless they were upset about a date or…I don’t know something else that was getting them down.
Felicia’s mother was a piece of work. She was always asking for money. Felicia doesn’t give it to her, but she does pay a bill or two or buy her groceries now and then. Her mother gets mad, but she does eat the food. Focus!
“…Okay?” Cody was saying. I had no idea what he just said.
“I’m sorry. What did you just say? Felicia called, and I was thinking about what she was telling me about her mother.” I had been staring at the floor, so maybe he believed that. Why wouldn’t he? I’d believe me. No, not really, I probably wouldn’t. But maybe he’d really want to go home and not harass me.
“I said you should really be careful while driving to the convent.” He was shaking his head, and his eyes narrowed.
“Oh, yeah.” I shrugged. “Of course I will. I’m always careful. By the way, I went to church with Mama and Daddy.”
He shook his head and walked to the door. He turned, and said, “Bye and thanks again.”
“Mm, buh-bye.”
I was finally alone. I could die of humiliation in peace. I would not call Rick. I knew what you were thinking. Yeah, right. Of course, she was going call Rick and try to explain her stupidity. Wrong. The only thing calling would do was make it worse. What I needed to do was grab the bottle of wine out of my refrigerator and tilt it up until I was totally shit faced. And then and only then would I be able to get some sleep. Sleep would come because I’d black out. But that would mean tomorrow morning I would have the hangover from hell. Sister Bonita wouldn’t appreciate me barfing on her shoes because I knew I wouldn't be able to stop at just one barf.
One glass of wine wouldn’t hurt. The phone rang. It was Rick. I didn’t answer. My cell phone rang. That too was Rick. I still didn’t answer. I downed my second glass of wine.
My phone rang again. I picked it up and said, “Don’t call me again…”
“I know Cody’s there so call me later,” he cut in with a smirk talking over me. I couldn’t actually see the smirk but I knew he was smirking.
“Cody’s gone. And I’ve been having trouble with my phone. Other people seem to be able to cut in. Listen, I have to go. I have to get up early in the morning. Look at the time. It’s late; it’s…wow, it’s ten twenty. I really have to go to bed so I can get up early. Bye now.” I was talking ninety miles an hour. He wasn’t able to get a word in edgewise. I heard him say “but” and “uh,” a couple of times but I didn’t slow down. I was Chloe Babineaux. I didn’t have to have anybody else in my conversations.
If two glasses of wine was good, then three was better. I drank my wine and went to bed.