Authors: Unknown
"Make love to me, Luke. Make love like we've never made before. Make it so I'll never forget you, or forgive you for leaving me."
Laura closed her eyes and was enveloped in the passion that was Luke.
"Bothered by the pain and suffering of hemorrhoids?"
God, what a time for a commercial. These soaps are great!
Chapter 10
I didn't sleep well.
First of all, I had trouble falling asleep. I thought about Julie, Jules, Reynolds, Bruno, and Luke for a few hours. I thought about Ryan because I felt guilty for thinking about Luke. Then I thought about Luke some more. I also thought about that orderly, Jerry Odem, and a plan started to form in my mind, a delightfully nasty, but highly justified plan, so I grabbed a pen and piece of paper to jot down a few notes.
My life was getting carried away, and I started to feel out of control. I hate being out of control! I like everything well planned. I like the next day’s clothes laid out the night before. I liked my little lists of things to do and buy. I like my daily routine, my soap operas, and my little rented house. I just want to go back to normal!
The second problem was my dream. I dreamt I was falling down a volcano, getting hotter and hotter as I went. I kept rolling over and over, with flames licking at me, hitting my flesh like lashes from a whip. I was just starting to pass out from the fall when I hit the floor of the volcano and was smothered by a tide of molten lava. I woke up lying on the floor, twisted up in my blanket.
The visit from Luke, though, was a cheerful thought, so on Friday I wore my Clowning Around earrings; matching sets of colorful clowns with red, white, and blue stripes, with large black shoes. However, Bruno was waiting for me when I arrived. He was sitting in the lab, alone.
"You don't need a needle," he said, standing up as I came in.
"Where's Joan? Why isn't anyone in here?"
"They're getting coffee. I told her we needed a little privacy."
"And she just left? She left you alone, here in the lab?" Damn her, she's better at disappearing than me.
He took a small box out of his pocket. "The boss wants you to have this little gift as a token of apology. I'll just put it down here and go."
"Hey, don't put anything down. Just take it and leave."
"I'm leaving it. Mr. Reynolds would be very unhappy if I didn’t leave it for you. You can do anything you want with it, after that."
Bruno put down the box on the nearest table and then left. The minute he cleared the door, Joan walked in.
"Good coffee," she said.
As she looked on, I picked up the box, put it in the sink, and turned on the water.
"Aren't you supposed to take the gift out of the box before you clean it?" she asked.
"I have no idea what's in this box, but I'm not taking any chances. I won't open it until it's totally soaked."
When the cardboard started to fall away, I turned off the water and prodded the thing with a forceps I found lying around. Inside were a small dark blue jewelry box and a handwritten note with runny letters. It was hard to read, but it looked like an apology and something about holes. I opened the box and saw a pair of earrings, beautiful diamond studs, about a caret each, on gold posts.
Joan came over and looked into the sink. "Are you sure they're wet enough? Did you think diamonds explode or something?"
"I don't care. I just don't want them."
"I'll take them."
On second thought, they were real pretty. But there was no way I'd keep them; the $600 was payment enough. I'd mail them back to Reynolds, I told myself, the first chance I got, which just may not be until after I had a chance to wear them once or twice.
During lunch, I walked over to the hospital and scoped out a few things. My plan to teach Jerry Odem a lesson was growing details. I walked past the male employee's locker room a few times, and took a couple of peaks inside. Some guy coming out caught me once. He didn't seem to care but did look a little strange when I smelled him.
"Nice cologne. What is it?"
"Eau de orderly," he said. "It's the cheap stuff they have in the locker room. Cuts down on the hospital smells."
He made a lewd suggestion.
"You wish I was that dumb and desperate," I told him.
"Your loss."
"Oh, and I'm sure I'll live to regret passing up the offer."
When he was out of sight, I snuck into the locker room and took a quick look around. I knew exactly what I was going to do.
******
After work, when I checked my machine, there was a message from Reynolds. How the hell did he get my home number?
"I hope you like the present. It was my way of saying I'm sorry. If you only work with me on this, there would be a lot more where that came from."
That weekend I didn't plan to see Ryan. I had a lot to do around the house, and I wanted to make some time to see Adam. I didn't like the fact that I hadn't been able to reach him during the week, so I called and kept calling until he finally answered the phone.
"Could you call back later, between 11 and 11:30?" he asked.
"No Adam, I can't call back. I've been trying to reach you all week. Just talk to me a minute and I'll let you get back to whatever you're doing."
"Okay."
"What have you been doing?"
"I've just been busy, that's all."
"Well, how about we meet for lunch tomorrow? Half way, somewhere on route 42?"
"That's fine."
We made arrangements to meet at the Applebee's on route 42, about halfway between my place and his. I don't miss a chance to get that Oriental chicken salad.
******
On Saturday I wore my Bees Knees earrings, which were large black and gold bumblebees, and drove over to Applebee's.
Adam was waiting for me when I arrived. Adam is very thin, with thick silver hair, and about my height. He had a little tablet in his hand, with a line drawn down the middle. On each side were a number of one's, as if he was taking count of something.
"I'm keeping two lists," he told me. "On the left is the count of left-handed people who are in the restaurant; on the right is a count of people wearing fake hair."
"You mean toupees and wigs? What for?"
"I'm just working on my theory. Do you know that I can always tell when someone is wearing fake hair? Why do they bother?"
"Some men don't want to look bald. They think hair makes them look younger and better."
"Not that. I mean why do they wear fake hair when it is so obvious?"
I do admit that most toupees look like fake hair, as Adam calls it. Sometimes I'm not so sure.
We sat down at our table and ordered. I asked for the Oriental Chicken Salad, of course, and Adam ordered soup. I also begged the waitress to bring me a cold glass of water as soon as possible.
"Okay, well very discreetly," I told him, "point out someone wearing a toupee."
He pointed to a man at the bar who had an obvious rug on. I mean, it looked as if his wife even sweeps the dirt under it. Then he pointed to a man sitting in the corner table.
"I don't know Uncle Adam. His hair looks real to me."
Before I could say another word, Adam got up and walked over to the empty booth next to the one in the corner. Rather than sit in the booth, however, he slid in on his knees facing the back of the hair in question. I looked for a menu to hide behind, but I was fascinated all the same.
Adam got real close to the back of the man's head and started looking. The man's companion, sitting opposite from him, pointed to Adam, and the guy turned around.
"Can I help you, fella?"
"Are you left handed?" Adam asked. I was praying that they'd bring out my Oriental chicken salad before it was too late.
"What? None of your business, now get lost." The guy turned back around but Adam kept staring at his hair.
"Brooke, you're wrong," he yelled across the restaurant. "This is fake hair. I was right, told you so. It ends right here."
He was pointing to somewhere on the guys head, when the gentleman turned around and swung a big beefy hand in Adam's direction. Adam leaned back to avoid the blow, but the guy got up on his knees to reach further. Just then Adam grabbed a fork from the table, impaled it into the guy's hairpiece and flipped it toward me.
"I was right. I was right." Adam was very happy. The guy reached up to cover his head, but by the time he looked back at Adam, I was in the car, hiding under the steering wheel. I saw Adam run out as fast as he could, yelling, "I think it's time to go. Let's go someplace else to eat. Follow me."
He jumped into his car and I followed him out of the parking lot and up route 42.
I followed Adam on Route 42 to the Fuddruckers hamburger place. He sat in his car a few minutes after we both parked; I assumed making sure Mr. Hairpiece didn't follow us. While I waited, I made a note to send Applebee's a check for the meal that we had ordered, even though we didn't get to eat it. I wanted to be able to go back there not in disguise.
After awhile, Adam got out of the car and I followed him into the restaurant. We got our food and sat down, and then we both just started laughing. I laughed so hard I had trouble breathing.
"Adam, why on earth did you do that? That really wasn't very nice, you know?"
"I just had to prove to myself that I was right. Should we start again here? I see a guy over there..."
"No, let's not, please. I believe in you and your wonderful powers of observation."
We finished our meal and chatted for a while. I told Adam what happened at the lab, with the dead lady and orderly, and that I wanted his help on Tuesday.
"Sure I'll help."
"You don't mind driving down?"
"No. You know that I'd do anything for you."
I outlined my plan to him. He loved it.
"You know," he said, "you have the same spirit as your mom."
"You really liked my mother, didn't you?"
"Oh yeah. She was a wonderful person. She had a great laugh. I'll never forget her laugh. And wonderful eyes. They just shined, so bright. You have her smile and her eyes. By the way, do you think we should ask that other fellow if he wants a burger?"
"What fellow?" I looked around praying that Mr. Hairpiece hadn't walked in.
"You know. That man that is following you."
"You're playing. Nobody's following me."
"Really. A man in a black Lincoln. I saw him pull into the Applebee's lot behind you, and he followed us here to Fuddruckers. Come, I'll show you."
We got up and walked to the window, but hid ourselves behind the shades.
"There. That shiny black car on the other side of the lot. He's sitting in the driver's seat. Can't you see him?"
"I see the car, Adam, but why would he be following me?"
"I don't know. You're the one he’s following, shouldn't you know?"