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Haunted by the Past - Chapter 28 - The Calm Before
By: RampageSports Date: April 5, 2016, 8:31 am
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Author's Note: The Spenser, Hawk, Susan Silverman, Vinnie Morris
and Ives characters belong to mystery novelist Robert B. Parker.
Mr. Parker is one of my favorite authors, and his work is a
major influence on the the way I write. Whether I even come
close to mimicking his style is open to considerable debate, but
I have chosen to use his characters in this story as something
of an homage. My goal is to handle them as lightly as possible
and to maintain them as Mr. Parker created them. Any failure on
that front is completely my own.
[hr]
Haunted by the Past - Chapter 28 - The Calm Before
Getting back to work seemed to settle Danni down, and she was in
a better mood when things wound down that evening. With the
weekend upon us, the events of the week called for a night out.
Our current situation wouldn't allow for that, so we made a date
with Danni's DVR. A quick stop at The Little Szechuan for some
way too expensive take-out — properly arranged with tonight's
escort, Vince Jordan — and we were all set.
While I unloaded the Chinese food, Danni grabbed yet another
banana from the bunch.
"Seriously... are you part monkey?" I asked her.
"What?" she said through a mouth full of banana. "I like
bananas."
"I'm literally unloading dinner as we speak."
"Relax," she said. "I'll eat that, too."
I smiled and shook my head as I finished transferring the little
cardboard boxes onto a large tray. Danni gathered the necessary
plates and utensils, and we headed for her little crash pad.
"What do we start with?" she asked when we had ourselves squared
away.
I scanned the list of programs she had recorded. The stress of
the past few weeks had been wearing us out early each night, and
we were backed up a long way on our viewing schedule.
"Looks like Blue Bloods has the most to watch," I said. "Let's
start there."
She queued up the oldest episode, and we sat back and dug in.
The show is about the Reagan family, all of whom work for New
York City law enforcement in some capacity. Grandpa is the
retired police commissioner. His son, played by the ageless Tom
Selleck, is the current commissioner. All three of his sons
have followed into the family profession, and his daughter holds
the title of Assistant District Attorney.
Even if you believe that law enforcement is frequently a family
calling, the idea that all three generations would be so
completely dedicated to that calling might seem a little
far-fetched. But the show gets away with it by never leaving
any room to question the concept. In the very first episode,
the youngest son, who was the only one to stray a little, is
graduating from the police academy — having been pulled back
after his oldest brother dies on the job. From that point
forward, the theme is written in granite — this is what the
Reagan family does.
On the other hand, maybe the showrunners get away with it by
focusing your attention elsewhere. As Detective Danny Reagan
appeared on screen, Danni's attention drifted to the question
every woman our age asks every time we watch the show.
"Did you ever think..."
"No," I said before she finished. "I still can't believe Donnie
Wahlberg of the New Kids On The Block is a legitimate actor."
"Marky Mark, too," she said of Donnie's brother, who's made
quite a movie star out of himself after his brief but
crazy-successful rap career.
We each took a moment to picture the walls of our respective
teenage bedrooms, where both brothers were prominently featured.
I compared the mental image of that Donnie — in his leather
jacket and fedora — to the no-nonsense character he played on
the show, and shook my head.
"World's gone mad," I concluded.
Mad or not, there was one thing that couldn't be questioned...
the show wouldn't be the same without Wahlberg's character. How
the Donnie of the 80s transformed himself into his polar
opposite for this role, I don't know. But there it was.
On the other hand, the transformation is apparently not
permanent, since Donnie is back on tour with the New Kids, who
are no longer new, nor kids. Whenever I try to reconcile that,
my mind conjures an image of the tightly-wound Detective Danny
Reagan bopping around the stage in his rumpled suit to Step By
Step.
It's nuts, I tell ya. Completely nuts.
The pork fried rice and pepper steak sat a little heavy, and we
were happily sated through the show, plus episodes of The Good
Wife and Castle. But when Danni moved to start up Chicago, PD,
I teased her that such torture would require proper snacks.
She rolled her eyes as she stood, and we made our way to the
kitchen.
As we stepped out to where the hallway opens to the sitting
area, Danni stopped suddenly.
"Huh," she said.
I stepped around beside her and followed her gaze to where the
dogs were resting.
Tramp was lazily napping on the same chair he'd been on last
time. And there, sprawled on the long divan beside him, was
Winzig.
"I don't think this is working the way I'd hoped," I said.
"Your dog is untraining my dog," she said.
"Well, Winzig is clearly the alpha, so it looks like a case of
loose leadership, to me."
"All I know is he didn't go on the furniture before that dog of
yours got here."
I arched an eyebrow in her direction.
"Easy with the that dog stuff, Aunt Sarah."
A little smile appeared that told me she got the reference.
"Well," she said, "now what?"
I turned to the dogs and said, "Hey!"
Tramp has he's heard me bark that word so often, it's basically
a command.
True to form, his head shot up as soon as he heard it, and he
immediately began to climb down.
Winzig, on the other hand, barely moved.
"Winnie!" Danni snapped.
The big dog lifted his head, but made no move to get down.
She advanced a few purposeful strides in his direction.
The Dane let out an audible sigh — as if to say well, I guess
she means it — then one big paw thudded to the floor.
Danni swung her angry stare toward me.
"Don't look at me for help," I protested. "Tramp's a good dog
when I'm looking, but I'm pretty sure he's up to no good
whenever he thinks he can get away with it. So, Cesar Millan, I
am not."
Winzig dragged the rest of himself from the furniture as Tramp
stood and waited.
"By the way," I said, "did I hear you call him Winnie?"
"Not like the bear," she said, with a quickness that told me
she'd expected the question.
"Hmmm... there aren't too many ways to spell it, so I'm thinking
it's just like the bear."
"Please don't Disneyfy my dog."
"I'm not the one who called him Winnie."
We turned and looked at the dogs, who had settled down in
opposite directions with their heads next to each other.
"I have to admit," she said, "he looks pretty happy."
"That's because he just had a nap on the fancy couch."
"No, I think it's more than that."
I shrugged gently.
"I think everybody's happier when they're with a friend," I
said.
Her eyes shifted to me, and my expression confirmed the
double-meaning was intentional.
"Be nice if it was under better circumstances," she said.
"Yeah, it would," I sighed.
"Maybe we could do that," she said.
"I'd like that," I said happily. "I have to admit that, despite
everything that's going on, this has been kinda fun."
"You didn't think it would be?"
"Well, to be honest, I didn't know how this was going to go."
"Weren't sure you could put up with me, huh?"
"Wasn't sure we could put up with each other," I said. "I mean,
we've been together almost twenty-four hours a day, practically.
I thought there was a good chance we might kill each other."
"Don't talk too soon," she said as we proceeded to the kitchen.
"It's not over, yet."
I laughed, but held my tongue. It was close to over, and we
both knew it. But saying so would lead to a discussion of the
possible endings, and there was no reason to ruin the moment
like that.
"I hate to break it to you," she said as I reached for a cabinet
above the stove, "but I don't know what kind of snacks there
are."
"Lucky for us, I was still shopping after you'd mentally checked
out at the store the other day."
I pulled out two tan bags of baked chips — one plain, one
flavored.
"Oh, I love those," Danni said. "Most of the baked stuff tastes
like..."
"Potato," I finished, knowing exactly what she meant.
Make no mistake. I love potatoes. I would be a traitor to my
Irish heritage if I didn't. Baked, boiled, mashed, french
fried, and, most importantly, on top of my Shepherd's Pie. But
there is no chance I would pull a raw potato from the bag and
take a bite out of it, and that's what most baked chips taste
like.
"I can never find them," Danni said of the particular brand in
my hands.
"Some stores put them in the natural foods aisle, which is kind
of a stretch if you ask me."
"Isn't that whole aisle a stretch?"
"That's a fair point."
I filled a couple of glasses with iced tea from the fridge, and
retrieved a pair of bowls from the cabinet. I poured the
contents of each bag into a bowl, and handed both to Danni. I
grabbed the glasses, and we headed back to the room.
I know... literally a full bag apiece? Trust me. Once you open
the bag, there's like six chips in there. And the two varieties
must be eaten together, as the plain are needed to temper the
sharpness of the flavored.
Back to the show... I won't say this out loud — because I refuse
to give away anything I can use to tweak Danni — but I've seen
PD before, and it really isn't bad. Though I don't know his
name, I've seen the actor who plays Commander Voight here and
there throughout the years, and I've always liked him, even when
he plays an assh*le.
Not to mention that Sophia's pretty awesome, too.
After a few minutes, I picked up on Danni's amateur approach to
the chips — alternating between one bowl and the other.
Without saying anything, I took a chip from each bowl and held
them together for her to see. She eyed me sideways with
well-disguised wonderment, and watched me put them in my mouth
together. Then, I gestured toward the bowls.
Try it.
She continued her incredulous look for an appropriate amount of
time to establish that she thought me strange. Then, she
reached for the chips and repeated my procedure.
As she chewed, I spread my hands as if to say, Am I not a
genius?
She gave a half smile, and a little tilt of her head. Enough to
indicate she thought the technique was not bad, but far short of
confirming my tacit assessment of my intelligence.
I noticed she continued to use my method from that point
forward, though.
By keeping the playful sparring to a minimum, we managed to
squeeze in a few more shows before calling it a night.
As I climbed into bed, I thought about what I'd said earlier
about how successful this little forced cohabitation had been.
That success was owed more to Danni than anything else. This
was her home and her life I had invaded, but she'd never even
flinched from the moment Spenser suggested it. She'd been open
and welcoming from the start, and that had been the key to all
that followed.
Tramp eyed me curiously from the blanket I had laid on the floor
as his bed.
"Time for a little payback tomorrow, buddy," I said.
He wagged his tail happily, then proceeded to lick his privates.
I took that to mean he liked the idea.
The following morning, Danni wandered into the kitchen about
eight-thirty, her nose following the scent of coffee and bacon.
"What's this?" she said, likely wondering how the hell I'd
gotten myself up so early, let alone managed to start cooking.
I set a full mug of coffee in front of her — light with two
sugars — and a glass of orange juice.
"Breakfast," I said.
She smiled as she eyed me for a moment. It wasn't hard to see I
was putting in quite a bit of humble effort, and she figured out
what I was up to without having to ask.
She also showed her appreciation in typical fashion.
"This fresh?" she asked, holding up the glass and squinting at
it as if processed orange juice were beneath her high standards.
"Bite me," I said.
I went back to the stove, as she looked over what I had going.
Two big griddle pans covered the range top — one loaded with
bacon, the other with pancakes and sausage.
"Bacon and sausage?" she asked.
"The bacon is for dinner."
"You're making dinner at nine o'clock in the morning?"
"Only the bacon," I said.
"Well, what are we having?"
"You'll see."
Her smile returned as the depth of my plan became more obvious.
"This isn't necessary."
"That's part of why I'm doing it. Now, have a seat. Pancakes
are ready."
I lifted two pancakes and a couple of pieces of sausage onto a
plate and slid it in front of her.
I'm not sure if it was her eyes or her nose that first clued her
to the fact that the pancakes weren't plain.
"Banana," she said.
"You seem to be a fan," I said, as I set a bottle of syrup and a
shaker of confectioner's powder on the counter.
"Very observant," she said.
"I try."
She adorned the pancakes with a sprinkle of the powdered sugar
and a small amount of syrup. Then she cut off a piece and put
in her mouth. After a moment, she nodded her appreciation.
"I think there's a song about this," she said.
"The one by Jack Johnson?" I guessed.
She nodded.
I let the songs lyrics play through my head, then asked, "Does
this make you my baby?"
A piece of pancake momentarily lodged in her throat, but she
cleared it quickly.
"Oooh," I winced. "Sorry."
Her expression went wild for a second, then she gathered herself
and smiled as she reached for the OJ.
"Trying to kill me?"
"No, I save that stuff for our workouts."
Another grin told me my plan was working. I hadn't seen her
smile this much in forever.
"So, what's on the agenda?" she asked.
"Not a damn thing," I said. "I've got the food covered. Other
than that, we officially have a whole day of nothing."
And that's exactly what we did. Though the temperatures were in
the mid-thirties, the air was still, allowing us to spend most
of the morning outside with the dogs. Tramp — who was used to
being completely fenced in — ran directly to the river, sending
the wildlife scattering and leaving me to wonder if he was ever
coming back. Winzig trotted out behind at a more leisurely
pace, bringing my lunatic canine back with him when he returned
a few minutes later.
Danni produced a couple of tennis balls, and watching the
stately Dane convert into a puppy at the sight of them was one
of the most incredible things I've ever witnessed. She handed
one to me, then held the other up. The big dog scrambled
backward for almost ten feet, refusing to take his eye of the
yellow orb. When Danni threw it, it took the big guy nearly two
full seconds to turn and get all of himself flowing in the right
direction to chase after it. None of that bothered him though,
as he came back with the ball in his mouth and a happy bounce in
his step.
When the dogs were good and tired, we all ventured out to the
river bank - Danni and I sitting and letting our feet dangle
over the frozen surface below.
It was fun, but probably an activity more suited for springtime.
After only a short time, we were just about frozen stiff, so we
trooped back inside. I made hot chocolate on the stove top — a
process Danni found antiquated, fascinating and delicious.
Then we retired to her sanctuary, each with a steaming mug and
the book of our choosing — James Patterson for her, Harlan Coben
for me.
We were hungry for lunch about an hour later. With the
morning's heavy breakfast and a big dinner planned, I kept the
noon meal light. Tomato, fresh basil and fresh mozzarella on
rosemary ciabatta, with just a touch of garlic oil.
Having accepted that I was doing this — whether she felt I
needed to or not — Danni ate the sandwich without protest and
enjoyed it thoroughly.
The afternoon was consumed with more reading and TV watching,
and I was surprised at just how relaxing it was.
Of course, there was a good chance my present company was what
kept relaxing from becoming boring.
Early in the evening, I set to work on dinner. The bacon I had
prepared earlier was crumbled and waiting in the refrigerator,
but that didn't come until the end. I started off by carving a
lean piece of beef into bite size chunks, then braised them in a
little bit of oil. Once they were evenly browned, I added beef
broth, flour, garlic, thyme, a tiny pinch of salt, pearl onions
and red wine — the latter causing Danni to point out that I cook
with an awful lot of wine for someone who doesn't drink. The
final ingredient was the secret to the dish — a considerable
portion of sugar.
The other key to getting this one right was taking things
slowly. It needed to simmer on the lowest setting for a couple
of hours. Then came the bacon and another hour of simmering.
I served it over egg noodles, and waited for Danni's reaction.
"Seriously... where did you learn to cook like this?" she asked,
giving just the response I was hoping for.
"What can I say?" I said. "I like to eat."
"So do I, as long as you're cooking it."
"Why, Miss Harris... was that a compliment?"
"Don't let it go to your head."
"Too late."
We finished out a very pleasant day with a few more episodes
from the back log, and the night ended with me once again
wondering what this experience might be like without the lead
weight that was attached to it.
If everything went the way I wanted, we would have to give it a
try. And, if it all went wrong, we would never get the chance
to find out.
[hr]
Character Reference
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/x7gm9w22n/Richelle_100x120.jpg
Name: Richelle Winterfeld
Nickname(s):
Background: Owner of the RSI stable, former underground fighter
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/9av3z511b/Danni_100x120.jpg
Name: Danneel Harris
Nickname(s): Danni
Background: RSI stable leader, reigning DEF welterweight
champion
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/u4khk9chr/Sophia_Bush_100x120.jpg
Name: Sophia Bush
Nickname(s): Sophs
Background: Danni's close friend, Dragon's Den stable leader,
DEF welterweight competitor
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/kmg56h1fj/ORourke_100x120.jpg
Name: Patrick O'Rourke
Nickname(s):
Background: Major with the New Jersey State Police, family
friend of Richelle's
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/bwegrvukf/Meghan_Taylor_100x120.jpg
Name: Meghan Taylor
Nickname(s):
Background: New Jersey State Police Detective, works for Major
O'Rourke
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/e0pn1hhfj/Gavin_Brown_100x120.jpg
Name: Gavin Brown
Nickname(s):
Background: New Jersey State Police Trooper, works for Major
O'Rourke
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/zdkkf918f/Vince_Jordan_100x120.jpg
Name: Vince Jordan
Nickname(s):
Background: New Jersey State Police Trooper, works for Major
O'Rourke
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/5ul2pzr7j/Tramp_100x120.jpg
Name: Tramp
Nickname(s):
Background: Richelle's dog
HTML http://s19.postimg.org/6rw3cls3j/Winzig_100x120.jpg
Name: Winzig
Nickname(s):
Background: Danni's dog
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