Inconstant Moon - Default Font Edition (32 page)

Tamara blinks. “Oh.”

“She'd been laying out there unconscious for hours. They think she was attacked in the afternoon.”

Barbie shivers and says, “It got below freezing last night.”

Tamara softening. “The girl gonna be okay?”

“How right can anyone be after that? I don't know. But I was on my way home. Then everything happened so fast.”

“So one time you had a good reason.”

“Look, Tam, why don't we go home. Talk there.”

Tamara makes eye contact with Quentin, or tries to. It's just that focusing is so damn difficult.

“Come on, we can work it out. We always have before.”

Which is what he always says.

“No Q, we don't. Talk tomorrow. I'll call.”

“I love you babe.” Quentin turns on his heel.

Tamara watches him walk away through blurry eyes. Moving fast. Not looking back. Watches him open the door and go.

Barbie realizes that she's never really liked Q. Good riddance. When she's thinking clearly, even Tamara will probably realize she'll be better off without him. Calling her 'doll.' What a jerk.

“Are you all right?” Barbie asks, for the first time realizing that her swaying friend might not be. Tamara reaches for the booth back hoping for support but ends up nose down on the bench. From under the table she says, “I'm OK.”

“Maybe we should just go.” When there's no response Barbie gets up and goes around the table to check. “Tamara?”

“Yeah.” Barbie helps Tamara sit. “God, I'm wrecked.”

“I think it's safe to say you've had too much to drink.”

Tamara says. “Maybe we just need one for the road.”

“I don't think so.” Barbie reaches out a hand and Tamara takes it and Barbie pulls her friend to her feet.

Tamara says, “Maybe we could just sit, I feel a bit rocky.”

Barbie shakes her head, sliding her arm around Tamara's shoulder. “Let's get you some fresh air, be good as new.”

Barbie heads for the exit, half dragging Tamara.

Tamara suddenly swivels and pulls Barbie into a bear hug, says, “Jus a minute.”

At a loss what to do, Barbie stands there, feeling exceedingly stupid as Tamara continues clutching at her, rocking, shaking. Oh god, she's crying. “Lets just go outside. It's only a few more feet.” But Tamara just hugs her tighter. “Come on Tamara. Just walk.”

Barbie tries to give her a push start and suddenly Tamara lets go and pulls back, her eyes roll around then focus on Barbie. Tamara's eyes clear as she smiles at her friend, but then she sways and leans forward, suddenly she's throwing up all over Barbie's matching skirt and shoes.

“Oh, gross!” shrieks Barbie. Leaping backward out of her shoes onto dry floor, leaving her pumps in the pool of vomit. “Oh Tamara, what a mess.”

Disgusted to see Tamara doesn't have a drop on herself, Barbie snaps, “Just sit down and wait for me.” As she bends to pick up her shoes, Barbie realizes this will be quite the trick since she doesn't want to actually touch the shoes since they are covered. Suppressing a shudder, Barbie sticks her hands inside them since that's the only clean part.

Wearing the filthy shoes like weird mittens, she hurries along the aisle on her way to the Ladies room.

Mouse watches Barbie's progress from the bar, not at first understanding why her friend is wearing her shoes on her hands. She can tell there is a problem, though, so Mouse asks, “Is everything okay?”

“No.” snaps Barbie without stopping.

Mouse gets the picture when she looks back to see Tamara staring stupidly at the puddle by her feet.

Kate and Amelia follow Maggie over to find out what's happening. Mouse frantically signals Billie and the bartender hurries down the bar.

“Billie,” Mouse asks, “Perhaps you have towels?”

Billie reaches under the counter, coming up with a wad of terry cloth hand towels she hands to Mouse.

“What's up?” asks Maggie while Mouse heads for Tamara.

Shaking her head at the state Tamara is in, Billie the bartender comes out from behind the bar and tells Maggie, “The other one's in the washroom. I'm going in back for the mop. Mind the store a minute?”

“Sure.” Maggie steps behind the bar and can't resist texting Stu. Billie goes in back, Kate heads for the bathroom and Amelia helps Mouse with Tamara.

Reduced to blouse and underwear Barbie is bent over the sink trying to rinse out her skirt when Kate looks in.

“God. She really got you, huh?” Kate observes. “Anything I can do to help?”

Barbie says, “Hosing down my shoes would be good.”

Kate comes in, letting the door swing shut behind her. Seeing each vomit soaked shoe resting discarded in separate sinks, Kate carefully turns on the taps, not wanting to be splattered.

“Good thing it's all liquid,” says Kate, watching the smelly mess swirl down the drain.

Barbie shakes her head, twisting the sodden skirt to ring it out. “If I'd known this was gonna happen I'd have sent her home with Q and it would be him cleaning it up. Bastard.”

Kate smiles, “Next time. Look, even if they come clean you can't go out in those clothes, you'll freeze. How about I get Nick to bring a change of clothes so you can get home?”

Although horrified at the idea, Barbie realizes she has no choice, so she agrees without enthusiasm. “Thanks.”

Liz has dark circles under her eyes as she comes into the kitchen. The sink is full of unwashed dishes which she stacks neatly on the counter, then rinses her favourite mug under running water. A glimpse of the crud encrusted on the tea towel hanging on the stove makes her opt to let the mug air dry.

The coffee carafe gets the same treatment before Liz rummages in the cupboard looking for the tin. She pulls it down and squints at the contents. No way.

Liz squeezes her eyes closed, but when she opens them again nothing has changed. There's barely enough coffee for a weak pot. A small pot. Scooping the coffee into the filter she decides maybe there's enough for eight wimpy cups. So she'll make six okay cups. Liz adds a dash of salt, then slides the filter basket in and pours the water through. Waiting, she stretches like a cat, then begins doing a few warm-ups.

Touching her toes she is startled to see the shadow of a person stretching across the floor between her legs.

At the realization that she's not alone Liz straightens up abruptly and whirls around to see Ethan leaned up against the door frame with a huge grin on his face.

“You don't have to stop on my account,” he raises his eyebrows rakishly.

“Don't sneak up in me like that,” she snaps.

His face falls. “Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, I just wanted to walk you to class.”

“You didn't scare me, you startled me is all.” She turns to pour herself a cup of coffee, then opens the refrigerator. No milk. No half and half. Resigned, she gets the powdered stuff out, chisels off a chunk off and plops it in her cup. “You didn't used to walk me to class.”

“You didn't used to be my girlfriend. I mean,” he pauses, watching Liz stir her coffee, not looking at him, “You are my girlfriend, aren't you?”

Liz sips her coffee, then turns to face him. “I don't know. I'm not sure I want a boyfriend. Lets just say we're dating, okay?”

“Uh, I'm not quite sure I see the difference. I always thought dating is what makes people girlfriends or boyfriends.”

“Look, I'm sorry Ethan. It's been a little rough lately.”

“Yeah, I know that Liz. I've been here too, remember.”

“Yes you have, and you've been great.”

“But.” supplies Ethan quietly.

She nods. “But I don't know. I don't really think . . .” she looks at the bereft expression on his face and softens a little.

“Look. I don't know if I'm ready. I like you a lot,” she looks down modestly, not quite able to meet his eyes, “No guy has ever made me feel like you do. But I don't know that I'm ready, or even if I want to be anybody's 'girlfriend.'There's implied ownership.”

“I don't want to own anybody, Liz, I want to be with you.”

“Then what's with this walking to class stuff? It's like you don't think I can take care of myself.”

“You know what they said. Until they catch that guy nobody is supposed to be going anywhere on their own.”

“Nobody isn't what they mean, or what you mean, either. It's just women. Put women in a cage instead of the predator and our menfolk protect us. Maybe we should wear burqahs too. I don't want to live in protective custody.”

Ethan stops a moment, furrowed brow, thinking. “We live in the same residence, we're go to a lot of the same places. It makes sense for us to go together.”

“But It doesn't. It might make sense for me to buddy up with Jake, or Natasha. But you're a T.A. so you're always in class way before and much later than me.”

“Sometimes yeah, but not all the time.”

“I'm an adult. I'm used to taking care of myself.”

“Liz. forget the rapist a minute. It's not about him, it's about me and you. I want to spend time with you, even if only walking to class. But I guess you'd rather not be seen with me.”

“It's not that at all.” She steps closer and slides her arms around his neck. “I'm used to being on my own. My problem is the people everywhere. All the time. On campus, in class, out shooting, where I live, in the shower for god's sake. I need alone time, not a boyfriend to boss or a babysit me.”

“Boyfriends don't have to be bossy.” Liz can't help but melt into the moment as Ethan pulls her down into a lingering kiss. Coming up for air he adds, “I'd be honoured for the opportunity to join you in the shower anytime.”

Liz can't help but giggle and the nuzzling resumes on a much friendlier note, even beginning to get hot and heavy until ostentatious throat clearing from the doorway breaks the clinch. Liz looks embarrassed, turning self consciously to the counter stirring her cold coffee while Ethan treats Maggie to a goofy grin.

“Hey Maggie. We're going to be heading to class in a few minutes. You're welcome to join us.”

“Thanks, but my classes don't start 'til eleven. I'll head over then with Mouse and Amelia.” Pouring herself a tumbler of grapefruit juice Maggie can't resist adding, “Besides, looks like you've got the buddy system figured out.”

Wolfrom hangs up the phone and grins at Lewis. “Looks like the bicycle lead paid off.”

“We got something! It'll be great to get out of here. I'm just so damn tired of talking to college students. I don't know what's worse, the ones that wanna hang out with us or the ones that read Boingboing.”

Lewis starts shutting down her laptop. “What've we got?”

“Turned up a good possibility at one of the white shoe law firms downtown.” Wolfrom is packing up the stray bits of paper and file folders into a waiting banker's box.

“A lawyer? Please don't be talking about M&Ms.”

“Well, yeah, Molony and Mulroney.” Wolfrom frowns. “Terri, is there anything you want to tell me?”

“I should have known. Of course a designer bike is gonna belong to some lawyer. Real people can't afford to blow that kind of cash on a bicycle.”

Lewis busies herself with wrapping cables and stowing the laptop in the case. She looks up to see Wolfrom staring at her, expectant. “I've got some history with the head honcho.”

Wolfrom whistles. “One of the M's. How on earth did you manage that?”

Shaking her head. “It's a long story.”

“Which M?”

“I doubt it matters, but it was Mulroney.”

“When his wife went missing?”

“Yeah; I was on missing persons. Nobody knew she'd taken a powder. They thought it might be kidnap for ransom. The guy sends a minion in to report his wife missing.”

“You're kidding!”

Shaking her head. “Nope. Apparently the minions even went shopping for gifts for his kids.”

“Get out!”

“So I paid him a little visit.”

“Shit. You kicked up a fuss?”

Stowing cables in the bag, Lewis says, “When a wife goes missing we've gotta look at the husband.”

“But Terri you gotta go on tippie toes if it's an M!”

“I don't do politics very well, Wolfie. See, I don't much care if it's an M. Everybody's supposed to be equal under the law.” Lewis zips the case closed, and glances around the broom closet sized office. “I think that's everything.”

“So what happened? You bearded an M in the tower.”

Shaking her head. “Yeah. That was me.”

“And you got in his face?”

Shaking her head. “You might say that.”

“And the wife saunters home a couple of days later with her tail between her legs.”

“Yeah, that's my kinda luck alright.” Lewis nods as she slings the laptop over her shoulder. “You know, Wolfie, it's not too late to put in for a new partner.”

Wolfrom laughs. “You kidding? I'd miss all the fun.”

Lewis grins and shakes her head. “Just tell me that we're not going to interview anybody named Molony.”

“Source says the guy's not a lawyer, just a gofer, guy from the mail room or IT department, something like that.”

“Praise the lord and pass the biscuits.”

Wolfrom glances at her as they head out the door. “There's a lot I don't know about you, huh?”

Lewis laughs as she switches out the light.

Mouse says, “This feels so stupid. People have been attacking people as long as there have been people.” as she accompanies Maggie and Amelia on the path between Fyfield House and the central cluster of school buildings, which is now charmingly known as the 'rape zone.'“There was just as much need to be careful yesterday as today. This is not the first rape that has happened in Canada.”

Amelia tells her, “Actually, there is no rape in Canada.”

Maggie snorts dismissively. “What? Of course there is. What do you think happened to Natasha?”

“Under Canadian Law it's not called rape. It's called “sexual assault,” Amelia explains. “And it covers the whole range of sex crimes.”

“That's just semantics.” says Maggie.

“It is important.” Amelia says, “It's the legal definition.”

“It's only important to English majors and lawyers, not to normal people.” Maggie says, “It doesn't change the facts.”

Amelia says, “Actually it does. That's why they try for precise language in framing laws. To cover every eventuality.”