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Taylor Made

Page 8

by Alex Westmore


  Delta nodded. For a second, Delta wondered what was beneath that helmet and black leather jumpsuit. She’d seen that outfit somewhere before, but couldn’t quite put her finger on where. “She’s good, Carducci. Sometimes, you just have to acknowledge the truth.”

  Tony slowly turned to Delta. “You know, if I knew you better, I’d think you kind of admire our burglar.”

  Delta laughed. “I hardly think so. Admire is a tad strong for me. I’ve just always appreciated women with chutzpah.”

  “Chutzpah?”

  “Guts. That woman has iron guts.”

  “So, how do we bag ourselves Old Iron Guts?”

  Stepping on the gas, Delta answered, “Patiently, that’s how. She’s going to slip up, and when she does, we’ll be there.”

  Pulling into a parking stall labeled compact, Delta watched as the pink neon sign of the Leather and Lace bar flickered on and off.

  The L and L had risen quickly as the prominent lesbian bar in River Valley, and drew women who were no longer trapped by gross stereotypes or molded out of societal archetypes of what dykes should look like: career oriented, single mothers, college students, artists and writers, established business women and an assortment of other females who refused to be jammed in a box. Various meetings were held on any given night, and there wasn’t a weeknight that went by when there wasn’t a softball, rugby, basketball, or volleyball player sitting around reliving her game. The L and L had a mixed bag of women and, for this reason, it had become the fulcrum of the lesbian, feminist, and bisexual women’s community.

  Hopping out of her truck, Delta pushed her arms through the sleeves of her jacket. The leather creaked, as all new leather jackets tend to. She loved the gift, which had been sent from the parents of the little girl she had saved from a near fatal fire.

  One last check in the window, Delta ran her hands through her hair before zipping up her jacket all the way. She had lost a little weight since Megan had left, and it showed in her face.

  “If anyone asked me, I’d say you were looking pretty fine,” came a purring voice from behind her.

  Whipping around, feeling foolishly vain, Delta looked over the roof of a BMW that had pulled up beside her. A striking face surrounded by blond hair smiled back at her.

  “If I’d known that women like yourself come to this bar, I’d have visited much sooner.”

  A stupid smile appeared on Delta’s face long before any intelligent words could find their way out of her mouth. “Actually,” she began, watching as the blond slammed the door and sauntered seductively around the back of the BMW. The short, five-foot-three, one-hundred-ten-pound woman wearing black stretch pants, black pumps, and a white waiter’s jacket made her way in front of Delta. “I, uh, don’t usually come here, myself, but my lover is out of town, and—”

  “And the mice will play, won’t they?” the woman said, brushing up against Delta before leaning against the truck. This was the second time she’d heard that stupid phrase in less than twenty-four hours.

  “Well, not this mouse.”

  The woman’s right eyebrow lifted as if independent of her other facial features. “No? What a shame. Then what is a gorgeous creature like you teasing the rest of us for? If you were my lover, I’d never let you out of my sight, let alone into a lesbian bar by yourself.” Toying with her hair, the woman took a step toward Delta, close enough for Delta to smell the spicy aroma of her perfume. “If you get my meaning.”

  Delta grinned and tried to move back, but her butt was already against the other car’s door. “You’re quite a flatterer.” The eyes Delta gazed into were not unlike her own: deep, almost emerald green.

  “A flatterer flatters. I simply tell the truth. There’s a difference,” Green Eyes smiled. “But then, I’ll bet you’re just as brilliant as you are good-looking.”

  “Are you alone?” Delta asked, immediately realizing how that sounded. God, it had been so long since anyone had come on to her, she wasn’t sure what to do or say anymore.

  “Do you want me to be?” Now, Green Eyes was practically rubbing up against Delta, and the chill of the night air was quickly replaced by sudden warmth. “Look,” Green Eyes said, as if reading Delta’s discomfort. “If you get inside, have a few drinks, and change your mind...about playing, I mean...then look my way. I’ll know.”

  Nodding mutely, Delta stepped around her. “This time, I’m going to have to make an exception. My friends are waiting for me.”

  “I’ll bet they are.”

  “Have fun tonight,” Delta said as she made her way to the door.

  “Oh, I already have. As a matter of fact, you’re the most fun I’ve had in a long time.” With that, Green Eyes laughed and followed Delta into the bar.

  The L and L was busier than usual, and Delta surveyed the room to discover why. A pool tournament was in progress on one end of the room, a dart match on the other, and an AIDS walkathon sign up at the bar.

  After pushing her way through the crowd, Delta peered over everyone’s heads searching for Connie and Gina. When she didn’t find them, she spotted two lovers staring into each other’s eyes while sitting at the table Delta used to call home when the bar was aptly named the Dirtbag. It never ceased to amaze Delta how ritualistic bar goers tended to be. Some danced all night, with or without partners, while others, like herself, preferred to sit at the tables chatting and watching the younger women strut around like peacocks. Still, a set always hung around the pool table, seeing who could rule the table for the night, while others roamed like sharks in search of food.

  Reaching into her pocket, Delta pulled out a ten and flipped it on the table, breaking the lovers’ prolonged gaze. “Drinks are on me if you’ll let me have this table.”

  Both women looked up at her questioningly.

  “Sentimental reasons,” Delta said, shrugging. What she couldn’t tell them was that she, too, had established some pretty bizarre rituals since becoming a cop; she always had to face the door when in a restaurant or out for the evening. It had been etched in her mind in the academy that she should always be aware of who was coming and going. This particular table gave her a perfect view of the front and back doors, the bar, and the pool table.

  The two women looked at each other before the slighter one nodded. “Sure.” Snatching the bill in her right hand, she reached for her girlfriend’s hand with her left. “Time for dancing anyway.”

  Watching them walk arm in arm, Delta felt the familiar sting of loneliness. God, she missed Megan.

  Still studying the crowd, Delta spied a petite blond over at the pool table, eyeing her next shot. It seemed everyone around the table was interested in the blond who chalked up her cue, and slowly bent over to take aim. When she blasted the purple four ball into the corner pocket, Delta’s expression changed from bemused to impressed. Her admiration of the blond escalated when she went on to clear the table without giving her opponent another shot.

  “Not bad,” Delta mumbled to herself, watching the next challenger cross her name off the board. She was a large, extremely masculine looking woman who handed the blond a beer before kissing her on the lips. When the blond smiled at the challenger, Delta, completely taken in by the scene, leaned in for a closer view.

  “No way,” Delta said. “I’ll be damned. I think it is.” Rising from the chair, Delta stood for a moment before moving closer. She wanted to be sure—absolutely sure—before saying anything. After all, she hadn’t really looked at the picture that closely. Still, Delta had a memory for faces, and the pretty blond wasn’t likely to be one she’d soon forget. And, even if her eyes had deceived her, there was no fooling her gut.

  It was Gwen; Carducci’s ex-girlfriend. Alive and well, and playing pool in a lesbian bar. How interesting.

  Before she knew it, Delta was standing in front of Gwen, ignoring the acid stares from her girlfriend.

  “Excuse me,” Delta opened, for lack of anything clever to say, “is your name Gwen?” The bar seemed to come to a standstill
as everyone watched the girlfriend’s reaction.

  “Beat it, sister, she’s taken,” came the gravelly smoker ’s voice of the girlfriend.

  Delta ignored the voice and the woman it belonged to. “This isn’t a come on or anything like that. I saw a picture of someone who looks like you, and I was just wondering if maybe you were her.”

  The blonde’s reddish eyebrow rose in question. “Well, on whose picture might that have been?”

  “He’s a colleague of mine.” Delta sensed the overpowering jealousy emanating from the girlfriend, but continued to ignore it. The blonde, however, did not. Stepping up to Delta, she smiled coyly.

  “You got a name, sweetheart?” Her voice betrayed both her attraction to Delta and her affinity for igniting fireworks in public places— neither of which made Delta comfortable. Perhaps she should have left well enough alone.

  “I’m not looking for trouble. I saw a picture of a woman who resembles you.” Delta felt the air close in around her as the girlfriend moved in.

  “If you’re not looking for trouble, Cowgirl, you ought to just keep on moving right along.”

  Cowgirl? Hell, she supposed it was a better cut than fluffball. Either way, Delta hesitated for a moment, deciding whether or not it was worth finding out if Carducci’s long lost lover was, in fact, a lesbian.

  “You deaf or something?” The girlfriend stood right at Delta’s shoulder.

  Deciding against further aggravating anyone, Delta thought maybe showing her badge might earn a little cooperation.

  As Delta reached for her wallet, a small hand slipped into hers while an arm slid around her waist. “There you are, sweetheart,” Green Eyes purred into her chest. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  Speechless, Delta couldn’t even muster up a smile.

  “After five years, you’d think I’d know she was making friends at the pool table,” Green Eyes said kissing Delta’s neck; this settled the big girlfriend down in a heartbeat.

  “Hey,” the girlfriend said, smiling a smile that looked somewhat awkward on her face. “Sorry if I jumped the gun. Bars kinda make me nervous, know what I mean?”

  Delta glanced down at the thick, outstretched hand thrust at her before taking it firmly in hers. “Unfortunately, I do. No respect for relationships.”

  “Exactly,” she said. “Now, what was it you thought Gwen might know?” The girlfriend stepped next to Gwen and wrapped her meaty arm over Gwen’s shoulder.

  Delta grinned slightly and tried ignoring the fingers caressing her back. What would Connie and Gina say if they saw this? She hated even thinking about it.

  “His name is Tony Carducci.” Delta knew by the rush of blood to Gwen’s face and the way her eyes dilated that she was the one in the picture.

  “Yes, I knew Tony,” Gwen said, casting defeated eyes at the girlfriend. “We dated once.”

  “Dated?” Delta asked. Oh, how two stories could be so very different.

  “I suppose he thought there was more to it than that, but that was it. Don't tell me he still carries my picture around.”

  Delta pried the arm from around her waist and tried not to look down at the face smiling up at her. “I suppose he has a good reason to.”

  Gwen turned to her girlfriend and asked if she would buy her a beer. The girlfriend looked at Green Eyes hanging on Delta and nodded before trudging away.

  “Look—”

  “Delta.”

  “Look, Delta, poor Tony caught me at a time when I was just discovering who I was and what I was about. I couldn’t very well tell him I was exploring my sexuality. I cared about him, but...he just wasn’t what I needed at the time.”

  “But you never told him the truth, did you?” Delta pried the other arm off her as she spoke. Green Eyes seemed to relish her role.

  “I couldn’t. It would have devastated him.”

  “Maybe, but at least he’d know the truth. As it is now, he just has a lot of unanswered questions. Don’t you think he deserves to have them answered?”

  Gwen looked into Delta’s face. “How is it you know him so well?”

  “Yes, dear,” Green Eyes added. “How long have you known Mr. Man?”

  Gwen laughed. “Obviously you know him very well. How do you tell a macho man like Tony Carducci that you’d rather make love with a woman? As much fun as we had, he was still the most narrow-minded, pigheaded man I’d ever met. When I met Brandy, I really struggled with whether or not to tell him the truth. And if you know Tony as well as I did, you’d know that the truth would have hurt him more.”

  Delta nodded slightly, remembering her own ex-lover’s very same words. They were pathetic then, and they were pathetic now. People who withheld the truth to “keep from hurting someone” were the lowest form of life in Delta’s book. It had happened to her, and it hurt like hell. But cheaters often rationalized their dishonesty by stating, rather gallantly, that they lied to protect their lovers. Just the idea made Delta wince.

  “You hurt him, Gwen. And it may be hard to believe, but Tony is still wounded.”

  “Wounded?” Gwen took the beer her girlfriend handed her. “We must not be talking about the same guy. Tony’s ego was incapable of being wounded.”

  “Maybe he’s changed.”

  “So? What do you want from me?”

  Delta stared down at Green Eyes, who again had both her hands around Delta’s waist. Just what in blazes was going on here? And where in the hell was Connie?

  “What she wants,” Green Eyes began, “is for you to understand that he can’t let go because he’s blaming himself. All she’s asking is for you to free him from the doubt that you, my dear, inflicted upon him.”

  Delta looked up from Green Eyes and nodded. “That’s all it will take, Gwen. Tony isn’t the same man you went out with. He...his views about gays and lesbians have changed.”

  Gwen studied Delta with skepticism. “And who changed him? You?”

  Delta shrugged. “Circumstance changed him.”

  “What are you to him, anyway?” Gwen asked.

  “We’re partners. We’re cops.” Without even looking at the girlfriend, Delta could sense her surprise.

  Gwen, on the other hand, smiled. “So, he finally made it? It was all he ever talked about.”

  Delta nodded.

  “Then, I take it that having a lesbian for a partner has broadened his horizons?”

  Grinning, Delta stuffed her hands in her pockets when Green Eyes reached for her hands. “Sort of. Tony’s an okay guy, but there’s a pain in his voice when he talks about you.”

  Gwen’s facial features suddenly softened, her posture opened, and she seemed to hear what Delta had been saying. “I don’t know if he can accept that I left him for a woman, but I’ll give it some thought.”

  Delta shrugged. “Won’t cost you anything to be honest with the guy. He deserves that much.”

  Someone from the pool table area handed her a stick. “Look, I’m up. I’m not promising anything, but I’ll really think about it.”

  Delta nodded and, again, pried Green Eyes’ hands off her waist. “Thanks for your help. For a minute there—”

  “You could have taken the big one out without even breathing hard...although watching you breathe hard could be a lot of fun.”

  Feeling the heat rise in her cheeks, Delta sighed loudly. “Well, thanks for the help.”

  “No, thank you. It’s definitely been a...far more interesting evening than I imagined.”

  Delta looked down into Green Eyes’ face and smiled. “What did you say your name was?”

  Standing on her tiptoes, Green Eyes kissed Delta’s cheek. “I didn’t.” And with that, she slipped off into the crowd, leaving Delta staring at her back.

  “What’s your pleasure, good-looking?” came Connie’s voice from behind her.

  Delta wheeled around and hugged Connie tightly. “Man, am I glad to see you!”

  “Whoa. You been drinking too much Pepsi, or what?”

  Delta pulled a
way and smiled broadly. “I just needed a hug, that’s all.”

  “Then give me one,” Gina added, stepping up to Delta, who gave her a squeeze.

  “Missing Megan?” Gina asked, lightly brushing some stray hairs from Delta’s forehead.

  “Uh-huh. This one woman sort of came on to me and I suddenly wished that Megan was here to fend her off.”

  “Sort of came on to you?”

  Delta laughed. “Long story. Can I buy you two drinks?” Connie and Gina exchanged secretive glances.

  “What?” Delta had known the two of them long enough to know this ‘Boy-do-we-have-some-special-news-to-tell-you’ look they shared between them.

  “Tonight’s a champagne night,” Connie answered, grabbing the nearest waitress and ordering a bottle of champagne.

  “Champagne? Don’t tell me...”

  Connie grinned from ear to ear. “Yep. We is.”

  Delta wrapped her arms around both of them and hugged them tightly. “The doctor or home pregnancy test?”

  Gina blushed. “Home preggers for now. I have an appointment with Doctor Weeks in the morning to confirm.”

  “I can’t believe it! I mean, I believe it, but...a baby? We’re having a baby!” Delta pushed through to her table, but found it occupied. “Excuse me, but this woman is pregnant and really needs to get off her feet.” Immediately, both women jumped out of their chairs. “Thanks.”

  After taking their seats, Gina reached out and took Delta’s right hand and Connie’s left. “Let’s get one thing perfectly clear right here and now. I will not be coddled and pampered like some china doll for the next nine months, do you hear me? I am pregnant, not helpless.”

  “No, dearest, you’re not,” Connie said, bringing Gina’s hand to her mouth and kissing one knuckle. “But our fun will come from taking especially good care of you.”

  Delta nodded. “That’s right. Besides, it’s in the pregnancy manual. Rule ten, Section C, states all of the rights and privileges of the family of the pregnant party. It’s our right to spoil you and you’re obligated to let us.”

  Gina looked at Delta with mock irritation, but still couldn’t keep her own smile from appearing. “Pregnancy manual? Oh, sweet, sweet, Delta, you’ve been hanging around Connie far too long.”

 

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