Do or Di (6 page)

Diana’s eyes filled with thick tears. She had the world’s largest eyes. She looked like those creepy Precious Moments figurines that my sister Deirdre used to collect. One of the tears hung there for a moment as if it was trying to lower itself slowly and then it fell splashing down on her cheeks.

“Erin, don’t be mad at me,” she pleaded.

“You know her?” Jonathon asked, brushing off his expensive suit. His eyes looked small without his glasses, or perhaps they looked small only because of the comparison with Diana-I-have-freakishly-large-eyes over in the corner.

“I just wanted to be your friend,” she said with a hiccupped sob. The police officer who had knelt on Jonathon passed her a tissue. Apparently now he was now in touch with his inner good cop. She flashed me a quick smile and then went back to her tears when the officer turned back.

“I met her through the Positive Partnerships program. I was assigned to be her mentor,” I explained.

“Except you didn’t want to be matched with me. And now this has happened.”

“What exactly did happen?” one of the officers finally asked.

“She broke into my house.” Good Lord, I was going to have to get this guy flashcards or diagram the situation like a sentence into small parts he could understand.

“It’s true I did let myself in. I wanted to talk to Erin again. I knew I sort of screwed it up when we met, and I wanted another chance. I thought if she knew how I could help her then she would reconsider.”

“This seems very clear cut. She’s confessed. Arrest her,” Jonathon said.

“Sir, if you don’t mind, why don’t you let us do our job?”

“I assume your job includes reimbursing me for my glasses?” He held out the remains.

“What is your name, sir?” One of the officers said as he pulled out a notebook.

“Jonathon Wright, that’s spelled W-R-I-G-H-T.” Jonathon jabbed his shirttails back into his pants with firm thrusts. “I should tell you both that I am a lawyer and technically what you did could constitute battery.” I saw one of the officers roll his eyes at the other.

“Is all of this going to be in the paper?” Diana asked with the quivering lower lip.

“Paper?” Jonathon said, blinking his tiny eyes. The officer looked over at him and I could see his eye snag on Jonathon’s wedding ring. He looked over at my bare hand and one eyebrow went up. Suddenly, I’ve got Inspector Pirot on the case.

“There is a chance it could be in the paper, with all of your names, of course. Miss Callighan is a bit of a celebrity. The press likes these kinds of stories.”

“She’s just a radio talk show host,” Jonathon protested.

“She’s so much more than that!” Diana said. “She’s not afraid to say what she thinks. A lot of people really look up to her. That’s why I was so glad she was assigned to be my mentor.”

“That was Wright with a
W
, correct?” the officer asked with a smirk.

“I don’t want my name mixed up in all of this.”

“Well, sir, it seems you are mixed up in it. What with you being a lawyer and all, we want to make sure we follow all the rules.”

“I work for the same company that Erin does. I just came over to, uh, drop off something she left there.”

“I’ll make a note of that fact.”

I could see a smear of sweat on Jonathon’s forehead. It was clear a life of crime and deception is not in his future.

“Look, what if I don’t want to press charges?” I asked. “The situation appears to be nothing more than a bit of a misunderstanding. Diana didn’t mean any harm, and it seems out of line to have her arrested.”

“You would do that for me?” She took my hand. I fought the urge to yank it away from her. “I am so sorry. I really thought if I came over here, then we could try again and you would see that it wouldn’t be a big pain to have me around, that I could be helpful.”

“Yeah well, I don’t want you letting yourself in my place anymore. Knock next time, okay?”

“Next time? You mean you’ll be my partner after all?”

“Of course she will,” Jonathon said. I gave him a glare but he was busy motioning the police toward the door. “I’m sure we all appreciate how quickly you responded this evening. It looks like there won’t be a need to file any kind of report or contact the press.”

“Sorry about your glasses there,” the officer said, tapping his pencil on the broken pair held in Jonathon’s hand.

“Yes, well. These things happen.”

“They sure do. You folks have a nice night now.” The older officer tipped his hat and they shuffled off. Jonathon, Diana and I stood in the entranceway after they left for a moment. Diana broke the silence.

“So… are you the married guy? I should have guessed when she was talking on the radio today that there had to be a married guy in the picture. She was way too laid-back on the topic.”

Jonathon gave a strangled cough, his face flushing.

“You know, Diana, it’s been a long day. Why don’t we call it a night? We can get together another time.”

“How about tomorrow? I think it would be cool to see the station.”

“Look, I don’t know.”

“But you told the officer you would be my mentor.”

“And I told you I didn’t have time to be your mentor. Besides, I didn’t promise anything. Jonathon did.”

“Don’t you belong in school? How can you spend time at the station in the middle of the day?” Jonathon asked.

“You
are
the married guy, aren’t you? I can tell. It’s not just the ring; you come across as really hostile. Most likely it’s the guilt.” She pulled on a rain jacket and moved toward the door. I didn’t look at Jonathon. I could feel the tension radiating off of him like heat waves. “I’ll stop by the station tomorrow and see if you’re free.” She gave a cheery wave and closed the door behind her.

“Who does she think she is?” Jonathon sputtered. “She’s certifiable.”

“She’s a bit of an original.”

“She’s insane. She’s lucky we didn’t have her arrested.”

“We didn’t have her arrested because we didn’t want your name in the paper,” I pointed out.

“So this is my fault?”

I bit back what I wanted to say. One of the things about dating a married guy is that you have limited time together. You have to settle for the time he can steal away from the family. I could spend my time with him proving how I was right or enjoying his company, not both. Being right wouldn’t be nearly as satisfying as the other ideas I had in mind.

“How about you sit down and I’ll make you a drink?” I rubbed slow circles on his back and gave him a soft smile.

“My glasses are broken,” he said, holding them out. I took them from his hands and leaned toward him.

“I’ll get closer so you can see me better.”

“You better get even closer. I still can’t see you.”

I moved a step closer.

“Nope, you are still a bit blurry.”

I stepped closer until our bodies touched lightly.

“How about now?”

“Better. Still a bit blurry.” He pulled me tight until we were pressed against each other.

“Better? I’m not sure I can get much closer.”

“Maybe we should try,” he said with a laugh and leaned in for a kiss. I nuzzled into his neck taking deep breathes. He smelled vaguely like sage.

“How about I order Thai food?”

“That would be nice.”

I found myself smiling back and the tension bands across my shoulders loosened, fight avoided. I stepped back and moved toward the phone.

“Unless you would rather have pizza.”

This is one of my pet peeves, is when people want something, but instead of saying what they want they ask it like a question. Like perhaps I really wanted to say let’s order pizza, but had been unable to form the words. If I had wanted pizza, I would have said pizza.

“Do you want pizza?” I asked.

“Thai is fine.”

“But you
want
pizza.” The guy can’t decide if he wants to be with his wife or me, why would I think he was capable of determining what he wants for dinner?

“Whatever you want is fine.”

I took another deep breath. Who am I to pick apart his dining options? If he wants pizza, what is the big deal? Most likely his wife never lets him have what he wants. It isn’t like I couldn’t have Thai food anytime I wanted.

“Let’s go with pizza.” I ordered our food and popped a few Tylenol in an effort to beat my looming headache into submission. Jonathon was on his cell phone when I came back into the room. “I ordered a large.” I got out before Jonathon covered the mouthpiece of his phone and motioned for me to be quiet by slashing his hand across his throat.

“That was just the waitress, honey. Nobody important.” He looked at me and then turned his back to complete his discussion with his wife. “I’ll be home in just a few.” He lowered his voice further, but I still heard him. “Love you too.”

“You’re leaving?” I asked when I heard the phone click off.

“My daughter Mirella had a bad day at daycare. Someone made her cry.”

“Can’t your wife talk to her? Why do you have to go?”

“Because my daughter wants me.” Jonathon ran his hands through his hair. “Look, let me pay for dinner.”

I put my hand on his arm as he fumbled for his wallet. He paused and I leaned in, face up. Our lips touched, so brief it could have been imagined except for the snap of electricity that went between us.

“I have to get home. I’m sorry,” he mumbled. I knew what I needed to do. Latching on would sink us both. Jonathon isn’t naturally buoyant. He won’t be able to stay afloat if the guilt weighs him down too heavily.

“Don’t be sorry. That just leaves more pizza for me.” I pushed him with a small laugh. “Go on, get out of here.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, picking up his jacket and moving toward the door while he spoke.

“Of course. I understand. I’ll make you make it up to me sometime.”

“Can I call you this week?”

I nodded. He shifted back and forth as if learning to dance and then darted in, leaving another kiss at my hairline.

“It was good to see you. I’m sorry the night didn’t go the way we planned,” he whispered into my hair and then stepped out.

“Me too,” I said to the closed door. I paced around the hallway. I kicked the sofa a few times. It would all be worth it when he left his wife and we could be together. He’d appreciate how I’d given him the space and time he needed to do the break with his wife in the best way possible. We’d have the rest of our lives for him to make it up to me. I flopped on the sofa and waited for the pizza I didn’t even want.

I got up early to make homemade cinnamon rolls to take in with me to the office. Baking is my Zen activity. Something about all that measuring and mixing relaxes me. I like creating a controlled chemical reaction.