Chapter Seven

Rebecca drove to a small restaurant on the mainline known for its excellent food and quiet intimate decor. The owner greeted Rebecca by name and seated them personally at a secluded table that offered them a view of the sweeping lawns and luxurious gardens. He left them to ponder the eclectic selections artistically displayed on fine parchment menus.

"Do you come here often?" Catherine asked, curious about the special service they were receiving. They had been seated immediately despite several parties waiting before them.

Rebecca shrugged uncomfortably. "Not for a long time. But whenever I do, Anthony insists on waiting on me himself."

She’s embarrassed, Catherine thought. She waited, knowing there was more.

"I found his daughter for him a few years ago," Rebecca continued in a low voice, remembering the run down rooming house and the frightened young girls inside. When she looked at Catherine, she couldn’t quite disguise the pain of the memory. After so many girls in so many squalid squats, the sorrow had become a dark ache in her eyes. "She was fifteen years old, working on her back for a pimp who had promised her the excitement a girl her age longs for. What he gave her was a needle in the arm and a beating if she didn’t earn enough." She didn’t know how to describe the rest of it how she felt when she found Anthony’s youngest daughter strung out on smack and turning tricks for twenty dollars a pop. Her anger so intense that she almost forgot she was a cop. Her overwhelming need to stop the waste and the abuse. If Jeff hadn’t interceded, she would have beaten the young pimp with her bare hands. She was grateful Jeff stopped her, but the rage still seethed, fueled by the daily destruction of lives and dreams she witnessed everywhere around her. She remained silent, alone with her anguish.

Rebecca didn’t know that the feelings she had forgotten how to share were clearly displayed in the sweeping planes of her face and the ever changing depths of her dark blue eyes. Catherine, so sensitive to the sounds of silence, caught glimpses of Rebecca’s secret tears. She ached for Rebecca’s pain, and she stood in awe of the strength it required to face such horrors every day.

"To him it must seem like life’s greatest gift-- the return of his child. He’s trying to thank you without making you uncomfortable," Catherine said softly. Rebecca winced, and Catherine continued lightly. "You’ll just have to bear it. I don’t imagine he’s going to stop."

Rebecca heard the gentle mocking in Catherine’s voice and caught the glimmer of a smile on her full lips. The knot of anger in her chest began to loosen, and she felt herself relaxing. She broke into a grin that brought a flash of brilliance to her eyes and a youthful energy to her face.

"If that’s your professional opinion."

"It is," Catherine responded, rewarded by the light in Rebecca’s eyes. She’s so beautiful Never could she remember being moved so deeply by anyone, and the force of her response was a little frightening. I hardly know her why do I feel like I’ve been waiting for her?

Rebecca startled her from her reverie with the words, "Then its my professional opinion that we should enjoy dinner and have no more talk of business."

Catherine agreed happily, and after following Rebecca’s suggestion to try the house special, settled back contentedly with a glass of wine. Over the course of the delicious meal she found herself telling Rebecca about her life. Rebecca learned that Catherine was the only child of a college professor and his wife, also a psychiatrist. She was close to her parents, but saw them only rarely. They were both still active in their professions and otherwise involved with joint pursuits. Catherine had grown up in a loving and supportive environment, but her parents had always maintained an emotional closeness with each other that sometimes made Catherine feel excluded. As a result, although this was something she didn’t share with Rebecca, Catherine was reserved in her own personal life. Unconsciously she was searching for the same depth of commitment she had observed between her parents. Rebecca was a good listener, and she watched Catherine intently as she talked. Somehow she knew that these were things Catherine rarely spoke of.

"What do you do for entertainment?" Rebecca asked at one point.

"I love to read and take long bike rides. I’m a sucker for old movies, too," Catherine answered. "How about you?"

Rebecca laughed. "I’m afraid I’m one of those obsessive workers. When I’m not working, I’m working out."

"How did you decide on law enforcement?"

"I didn’t decide. I was born into it, like a lot of cops. My father was a beat cop for forty years, just like his father. I always knew I would be a cop, too. I took a slight detour and went to college first, but there was never any question I would be a street cop."

Rebecca’s pride and satisfaction were evident in her voice. Catherine thought she looked more relaxed than she had ever seen her, and she was glad. Rebecca’s charm and quick humor surfaced as she grew more comfortable. Catherine found her even more enchanting as the evening passed.

They lingered long after the other diners had gone and only left when neither of them could hide her weariness. They drove in companionable silence through the now quiet streets. For the first time in weeks, Rebecca didn’t think about work. When she pulled up in front of Catherine’s brownstone, she realized suddenly that she didn’t want the evening to end.

"Catherine, I" Rebecca stopped, unused to putting her feelings into words. She wanted to tell her how wonderful the evening had been, and how much she wanted to see her again. Old habits, old fears, held her back. When are you going to learn, Frye. What in hell do you have to offer a woman like this?

Catherine’s eyes were warm and welcoming as she gazed at Rebecca, waiting for her to go on. Rebecca flushed and looked away, her jaw tightening. She sensed Catherine waiting, but still painful disappointments haunted her, holding her a silent hostage.

Catherine touched her arm gently, speaking instinctively, without her usual restraint. "Rebecca, I am a lesbian. If you didn’t already know that, I’m sure you would soon. I also find you incredibly attractive. Regardless of how you feel about me or women in general that fact remains. However, I can assure you that I have no intention of doing anything to make you uncomfortable."

Rebecca turned to her, stunned by her honesty, her pulse racing at Catherine’s words. She grinned, unable to hide the lightness in her heart.

"Catherine, there is nothing about you that makes me uncomfortable."

Catherine grinned back as she slipped from the car. "That, Detective Frye, is very good news!" She was still smiling as she watched Rebecca drive out of sight.

Дата добавления: 2015-11-16