These Foolish Things (14 page)

Liz picked up a fielder’s glove and bat. “Check these out.”

Ty carefully put down the album to examine the gear. “Whose?”
he asked. Liz thought he was beginning to look like a kid in a candy store.
“The ball is signed by the 2004 Sox, the glove by Yaz and the bat was given by
Carlton Fisk. The grandmother of one of the guys in our firm lived next door to
the Fisks in New Hampshire.” Liz saw Ty’s face become reverent as he handled
not only the baseball gear, but also a basketball signed by Larry Bird, a Cam
Neely hockey puck with Ray Bourque stick and a John Hannah helmet. “What’s that?”
he pointed to more framed artwork in the corner. Liz carefully removed one
item.

“Let’s see. This is a poster from that movie that was shot
here.” She looked at Ty, “You know, I love how in touch Hollywood is: the
writer makes a reference to Scollay Square. The knucklehead actor didn’t even
learn how to pronounce it right.” She smiled and shook her head. “However, I
think he did manage to spell his name correctly when he signed the poster with
the rest of the cast. On the block it goes. We have a couple more from other
movies shot in the area.” She returned the poster and put the album in the
corner with it.

Ty was looking through a packet of envelopes. “What are
these, gift certificates?”

“Yup. Restaurants, weekend getaways, tickets for some of the
museums…”

“This one says an afternoon of shooting,” Ty was frowning at
the envelope.

“Oh, that must be Dean, Dodge and Weis,” Liz said quickly.
“I believe they represent Glock and Gun Owners of America. Someone bids high
enough, you’ve got the Warren Zevon package.” She waited for the question.

It didn’t come. “Lawyers, Guns and Money. Very good,” said
Ty with a grin. “It’s an impressive collection you’ve assembled.”

“I am Woman. I get shit done,” quipped Liz.

Ty smiled.”Maybe you should put that on a T shirt.” He
looked at another envelope. “This one says tiramisu from Elizabeth Gardner.”

Liz nodded. “Last year, it went for $50. My co-workers buy
it and we have a little party with it.”

Ty nodded, but said nothing. Beanie jumped up on the bed and
sprawled to his fullest length in the middle just because he could again. Liz
gently removed him. “C’mon, You. I don’t think Ty wants to share his bed
tonight.” The thought caused a pang.

She heard Ty murmur something behind her that sounded
somewhat like “not with the cat, but…”

She turned around. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

“Just thinking out loud,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.”

Liz picked up her candle. She wanted him, badly. But there
was no way she would risk the rejection. “The extra toothbrushes are on the
second shelf of the medicine cabinet. Goodnight Ty. I guess I’ll see you in the
morning.”

“Are you going to be okay with the storm going on?” She
nodded. “Good. I think I can do this now without throwing you into a panic,” Ty
put one arm around her and kissed the side of her face. “Thank you for a great
birthday.” He kissed her cheek again, but closer to her mouth. “Thank you for
looking out for me. And,” this time he brushed his lips across hers. “thank you
for being my friend. Goodnight, Liz. Sleep well.” He closed the door after her.

Rather than go to her own room, Liz stood outside the door.
It was almost physically impossible to make herself walk down the hall to her
own bedroom, so powerful was the drive to reopen that door and make love to Ty.
Thunder rumbled distantly and Liz made her way down the hall to her own room.
The night passed in fitful sleep, interrupted by vague dreams and noise from
the receding storm.

By the time Liz woke, the storm was gone and so was Ty.

Liz looked around, eyeing the Christmas decorations.
Unadorned, the Great Hall of the World Trade Center was a chilly, homely,
industrially bleak space with slick gray concrete floors, sentinel-like support
beams and walls of a bland white shade. Most of the time, it was a depressing
and intimidating place and therefore made the perfect location for the annual
July administration of the Massachusetts Bar Exam.

But tonight, the Great Hall was decked out in Christmas
finery. The columns had been surrounded either by beautifully decorated
Christmas trees, for those near the temporary parquet dance floor, or been
wrapped in fresh Christmas greens and twinkling lights. The smell was heavenly.
The walls had been covered in black cloth that had been rigged with tiny lights
to give a starlit night effect. More lights hung from the ceiling or were hung
in ficus trees scattered around the floor. Various bars and food stations with
different cuisines were set up around the perimeter of the party area (of
course, the all-you-can-eat shrimp cocktail station got the most business). A
dance band was busy warming up on a stage erected next to the dance floor. This
was where the auction would be conducted.

Liz nodded as she looked around. The transformation could
almost make her forget sitting here for four days in two successive Julys,
sweating bullets and staving off panic. Almost.

Liz made her way to the area behind the bandstand.
Partitions had been put up to store the auction items until they were put on
the block. Now that they weren’t occupying space in her house, she was
impressed with the loot. Liz nodded to the other committee members who were
cataloguing and tagging last-minute donations. One of the men looked up,
surprise on his face. “Look who made it this year,” he remarked, smiling. “I
don’t know how you did it, but we’ve got more and better stuff this year than
we have in five years.”

“Thanks, it does look like a good haul,” Liz said, “Has
anyone heard from our emcees? They should have been here by now.”

“I got a call about an hour ago. They wanted to stop off for
a quick bite to eat first. Don’t worry, Liz, they’ll be here, it’ll go off
without a hitch and we’ll raise a ton of money.”

Liz smiled at the speaker, “Thanks, Jack.” She had arranged
for a popular local morning radio team to act as emcees for the auction. The
AMbeciles, hearing that the auction was to raise money for breast cancer
research, volunteered their services free of charge. They were also able to
persuade some local celebrities to donate additional memorabilia.

Looking at a table laden with items, Liz’s eye fell on a
gift certificate envelope. Dinner for two at the Top of the Hub. She got lost
in the memory of a beautiful sunset, a female voice singing “At Last” and
staring into Tyrone’s eyes.

The thought made her look around. He had promised to be here
tonight, she thought. She’d believed it enough to spend a small fortune on a
dress and shoes. Sometimes, you had to show a little faith.

“Okay, Larry, Jack, Annamarie, I spent too much on this
dress to hide back here with you, so I’m going to mingle, make sure people have
had enough to drink so that they’ll bid recklessly and wait for the fun to
start. Find me when the AMbeciles get here.”

Larry saluted. “Will do. And you are lookin’ good tonight,
Liz. Save me a dance.”

Liz beamed, “Thanks, Larry. I will if it’s okay with your
wife.” And she left in search of Millie, John, Corey and her gang.

The crowd was getting thick enough to make spotting people
somewhat difficult. Liz was scanning the crowd when she heard the voice behind
her and felt a strong, masculine hand on her bare shoulder. Even if he hadn’t
spoken, she’d have known Ty’s touch.

“Counselor.”

Liz turned to see Ty standing behind her.

“Counselor. You kept your word.” She returned the greeting
and took in the sight. The Barrister’s Ball was a black tie event. As good as
this man looked in a beat-up flannel shirt, grass-stained softball clothes or
blue business suit, he was devastating in a tux. However, in addition to the
tux, it could be said that he was wearing the Silicone Queen since she had both
hands wrapped around his right arm possessively and, as usual, was staring at
Liz with naked hostility.

“I did, Liz,” Ty said. His eyes took her in from head to
foot. “And I see you held up your end. You look beautiful.”

Liz watched the Silicone Queen’s eyes narrow and her grip on
Ty’s arm tighten.

Ty responded by gently prying her hands loose and saying,
“Cheryl, I want to talk to Attorney Gardner. Why don’t you go get a drink? I
think I saw Jimmy over by the bar.”

The Silicone Queen started to protest, stopped when she saw
his face and shot one more murderous look at Liz before sashaying off to the
nearest bar. Liz glanced at Ty and noticed that, unlike the softball game, he
didn’t watch her leave. His eyes were on Liz.

“So tell me, Liz,” Ty began, “How did you do with donations
for the auction?”

Safe topic, thought Liz. “We did extraordinarily well,” she
said, “In fact, I was surprised at some of the donations that came in during
the last couple of weeks because I hadn’t approached the donors. I don’t
suppose you had anything to do with that?”

Ty ducked his head and chuckled. As always, the sound
generated a nifty little thrill in Liz. “Guilty. It was my fault you got stuck
with this. I wanted to help.”

“I see Ray White donated tickets for the Celts / Lakers game
next month. How’d you pull that off?” Liz asked.

Ty grinned, “That was Mrs. White’s doing. She’s had enough
of Ray and Sal Randazzo’s running courtroom drama, so when Ray’s season tickets
came in, she took the Lakers tickets. Carla says he only whimpered for two days,”
Ty explained. The grin receded as he added quietly, “Besides, Carla White’s a
breast cancer survivor.”

“I see. I’ll have to thank her personally,” Liz replied. She
smiled, “She and Barbara Randazzo think alike.”

Ty cocked his head, “What did Sal, uh, ‘donate?’”

“His brand new set of Calloway golf clubs. Barbara said he
sulked for a week. Guess he’s not as good a sport as Ray White.”

They were still laughing when the Silicone Queen returned
armed not only with drinks but with a small crowd of people whom Liz recognized
from the softball game, mostly women. They quickly moved in between Ty and Liz
and effectively ended their conversation. As Liz turned to walk away, her eyes
briefly met those of the Silicone Queen, who smiled in catty triumph. Liz
smiled pleasantly at her, looked back at Ty, caught his eye, waved and left.

You know, Liz thought, a drink might not be such a bad idea.
Liz spotted John, Millie and Corey standing in front of a bar not too far away.
Corey was holding an extra drink in his hand which he held out to Liz as she
approached.

Champagne. With a memory of Diana Krall, an intimate set at
Regattabar and Ty wrapping her up in his jacket because he thought her shivers
were from being cold. That memory was quickly replaced by the Silicone Queen’s
victorious sneer.

Liz remembered her manners. “Corey, thank you. Any good?” She
sipped. “By the way, I love the tie. Clearly, black tie is open to
interpretation these days.”

Corey adjusted his royal blue and gold star-patterned bow
tie with a smirk. “My cummerbund is black and that’s tied around my waist. As
for the wine,” he waved dismissively, “Don’t get excited. It’s from upstate New
York.”

Liz laughed. “Snob.”

Corey snapped his fingers, “Honey, I go first class or not
at all. Speaking of which,” he walked around Liz inspecting her thoroughly,
“You do make an entrance, Ms. Gardner. You are first-class, deluxe, Who-Wore-What-to-the-Oscars
looking fine, Miz Liz. Your fairy godmother must have worn out her wand beating
on you. I’d approve, but you went shopping without me.”

Liz’s new gown was a midnight blue velvet strapless sheath,
chosen after three Saks Fifth Avenue saleswomen had ganged up on her and
emphatically vetoed the gowns she’d selected. It was cut high on the bust and
dipped modestly in the back to a full-length skirt. She had complemented the
dress with elbow-length gloves, a tasteful amount of rhinestone jewelry and a
sequined clutch to add sparkle without going overboard, chosen by a fourth
saleswoman who’d been attracted by the commotion. The deep blue in the gown set
off her white skin and brought out the color of her eyes, they’d all told her.
Perhaps they’d been right.

Millie nodded agreement, “He’s right, Liz. If I didn’t know
you, I’d lay a death grip on John the way our friend there,” she jerked her
chin towards Ty’s group and the Silicone Queen, “grabbed onto Hadley.”

John added, “She made a beeline for him as soon as she saw
him touch your arm.”

Liz shrugged. “We were talking about the auction and
suddenly the Berlin Wall of Bimbos went up between us.” She looked at Millie,
whose attention was focused elsewhere and mouthed, “It’s a go” to John. He
nodded and grinned, touching the pocket of his jacket.

“So,” Corey asked “Did you hear from him after the night you
didn’t sleep together? Girl, you wasted such an opportunity.”

“Shut up, Corey,” said Millie. “Don’t be a pig. But you
should have jumped at the chance, Liz.”

“It wasn’t that kind of evening, guys,” said Liz. “And not
all intimacy is physical.”

“Hmpf,” snorted Corey. “Maybe not, but that’s the best kind.
You know,” he said, looking at the Silicone Queen, “I don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what, Corey?” Millie asked as she lifted her
glass for a sip.

Corey gestured to Liz. “Well, our Liz here is class, brains,
beauty, everything, dressed to kill and yet he’s with that.”

The Silicone Queen was wearing a blood-red halter mini-dress
that showed almost more skin than it covered.

Corey murmured, “She brings three words to mind: tacky,
tacky, tacky. Do you think there’s a can of Aquanet Extra Hold left in the
city? I mean, come on, that is big hair. The whole look is Trailer Park Barbie
lives her Pretty Woman fantasy. Especially the streetwalking part.”

Millie almost sprayed her drink while Liz was choking on
hers. “Corey,” Millie managed to rasp, “are you done being mean and spiteful
for the moment?”