15. Fifteen
Fifteen
Z ak
For the last twelve hours, I had gone from one call to the next with no letup. It started with a five-car pileup in Layton and ended sixty miles south and half a day later, with a broken nose.
Clive and I arrived at the home on Stock Island to find Mr. Hugo Tauberman, a 37-year-old male, suffering from a gunshot wound to his left shoulder. Also present at the scene were his wife, Verna, a sturdily built woman in her early forties; and his sister-in-law, Laurette Chomsky, a buxom blonde of indeterminate age.
As I worked to patch Mr. Tauberman up, his only concern was if I thought his injury was serious enough that he could collect disability. I allowed, with little conviction, “Anything is possible,”
“You hear that Verna. Doc says I’m disabled. Looks like you did me a favor, shooting me. I can collect government money and never have to work again.”
Verna, who had not been feeling well, and left work at Pearl’s Bar several hours earlier than scheduled, did not seem impressed. When she arrived home, she found Hugo in bed with her sister Laurette.
According to Mrs. Tauberman, her sister had always been ‘a piece of no good white trash’ and she should have never invited her to live with them after Laurette’s boyfriend went back to jail for a third time.
At that point, Ms. Chomsky stated that if Verna took the stick out of her ass, Hugo wouldn’t have to come to Laurette for butt stuff . At which point, Verna landed the punch that broke her sister’s nose.
When the police arrived to arrest Verna on two counts of assault, Clive and I gave them our statements before carting Ms. Chomsky and Mr. Tauberman to Key West Medical Center. Now all I wanted to do was fall into bed and sleep for the next ten hours.
But when I opened my front door, Morgan was standing in the living room, looking terrified. She was always in control of her emotions, so the look of panic in her eyes scared the heck out of me.
“What's wrong? Did something bad happen?” She shook her head and looked away. I did not remember telling her where I lived, so for her to track me down like this meant whatever was going on was serious.
“I couldn't hear what you said with the damn dog barking,” said Dante, stepping from his bedroom wrapped in a sheet. “Oh, you're home. Dr. Morgan Lewis, this is my roommate, Zak Weston.”
I already had a pretty good idea of what was going on, and did not hide my anger. “Technically, I'm his landlord.”
“I swear to god, I didn’t know you guys lived together.” Morgan bit her lower lip, holding back tears. “It’s probably best I leave.”
Dante seemed to be a step behind. “What’s going on? Do you guys know each other?”
“Yes,” I whispered, “intimately.”
“Oh, shit, I don’t believe it.” He looked from me to her. “She’s nothing like the woman you described. You’re always going on about how intelligent she is and how much she liked that stupid boat ride you took her on.”
Morgan gave him a withering look. It was her turn to be angry. “So what, you don’t think I’m smart?”
Before I could enjoy seeing Dante squirm, he pivoted. “Of course you're smart, but Zak makes you sound like some kind of scared nerd. The Morgan I know has an adventurous spirit. You’re willing to take chances no matter how much they scare the hell out of you. There’s a passion that burns deep within your soul. He mentioned none of those things.”
“Maybe because I didn’t think it was any of your business.” I stared at him defiantly. Then I saw the bruised lump on his forehead and stepped close enough I could smell his strong spicy scent. I brushed his hair back and softly asked, “What happened?”
“I was embracing my adventurous spirit. ” Morgan spit out the words like they were a curse, “and almost killed him. God, I’ve made such a mess of things.”
Dante appeared fine. I decided it was a story that could wait for later and reached for Morgan’s hand. She pulled it back, her body contracting in on itself. “I’ve got to go.”
If she walked out that door, I knew neither of us would ever see her again. “You’re upset right now. I get it. But nothing has to change.”
“How the fuck do you figure that?” Dante snarled. “I would say this changes everything.”
“Not really, if you think about it. We both already knew and accepted she was seeing someone else.”
“But she never told us who. She refused to even discuss it with me,” Dante said. “Why did you do it, Morgan? Was it all some kind of sick game for you? See how long you could bang both of us before we figured it out?”
“Dante,” I snapped. “We both know her better than that. I can't believe you would even suggest such a thing.”
“It’s all right. I don’t blame him for thinking the worst of me right now. But I honestly didn't know until ten minutes ago, when I saw Zak’s name on the electric bill. The only time you were together was when that woman bit your arm.” She paused. “Neither of you seemed to hold the other in high esteem. So why would I think you were friends, let alone living together?”
“And because I didn’t want things to be awkward between you and me, I never brought her to the house,” I said.
“Shit, that makes sense,” Dante agreed. “And we were both so secretive when we talked about you, neither of us referred to you by name. I always called you my Good Girl.”
Morgan blushed. “How about you Zak? What’s your secret name for me?”
“You’ll love this.” Dante chuckled. “He calls you his lady friend.”
“My god, that’s horrible,” Morgan laughed and all the tension left the room. “It sounds like something my eighty-year-old grandfather would call his girlfriend.”
“Then what do you suggest I call you?” I asked.
“Goddess,” Dante said.
“It has a nice ring to it,” Morgan giggled.
“May I give you a hug, Goddess?” I had to admit, the word felt good on my tongue.
Morgan pulled me and Dante into an embrace. “God, I'm going to miss you two. You always know just the right thing to say and do.”
“Then don’t leave. Nothing has to change,” I said. “Keep seeing both of us.”
She looked at Dante, who shrugged and said, “If he's good with it, then so am I.”
“I am not sure it is as simple as the two of you think. There's a lot that we would need to talk about before I would be comfortable agreeing to such an arrangement.”
“Like what?” Dante asked.
“Like how I would feel if things didn't work out, and I ruined your friendship.” Her lower lip quivered as she looked at her watch. “Unfortunately, I don't have time to discuss this. I need to go home and shower so I can be at the hospital by noon. I'm covering for Dr. James until six.”
“Then come back after you get off and we can talk about it over dinner.” I hoped I didn’t sound as desperate as I felt.
“I’m on duty tonight,” Dante said.
“No, you aren’t,” Morgan told him. “I spoke to your lieutenant after you went to bed. As your physician, I explained you are concussed, and he agreed to a forty-eight hour medical leave.”
“Then we'll look for you at 7:00.” I held my breath.
She sighed and looked at Dante. “He’s not going to give up, is he?”
“Nope. Neither of us are.”
“Then I guess I have no choice. I will see you tonight.” She kissed Dante on the lips. It did not make me jealous, at least not in the way I would have expected. After bending down to rub Oliver’s belly, Morgan asked me to walk her out.
“I think he's going to be fine, but keep a close eye on him today.” It was obvious Morgan was not just speaking as a doctor. She cared a great deal for Dante. Reading my mind, she said, “Nothing happened between us last night. Try to keep him calm today with no strenuous activity.”
“I understand the concussion protocol. But maybe you can enlighten me. What the heck happened?” I listened closely as she recounted the jet ski accident and blamed herself for it. But I knew better. Morgan was like me. She was not a risk taker.
“It doesn't sound to me like you were at fault. You're lucky you weren't both killed. If I blame anybody, it's Dante for putting you behind the controls.”
“See. That's exactly the kind of thing I'm worried about. You can’t get mad at each other because of something that happens between me and the other one. I refuse to cause discord in your friendship.” I laughed, and she asked what was so funny.
“That discord, as you put it, is why our friendship works so well. Our differences keep us balanced.”
“My god, what am I getting into?”
As much as I wanted to take her in my arms and give her a proper kiss, I worried Dante might be watching through the front window. I opened the car door for her. “We will see you tonight, right?”
“Don’t worry, I will be here.” She took my hand. “I can't make promises, but I think it's at least worth the three of us talking about it.”
“That is all we are asking.”
When I went back inside, Dante had put a t-shirt on over his boxers, and was in the kitchen preparing to make breakfast. “Do you think she'll be back?” I asked.
“Definitely.” He licked a spot of maple syrup from his finger. “She likes the dog.”
“Funny,” I said. “Go sit on the couch. You're not supposed to do anything strenuous.”
“Making bacon and French toast is hardly strenuous.”
“It's not healthy either. I'll make you an egg white omelet and some wheat toast.”
“Yuck,” he groaned.
“Just shut up and eat it.” I tried not to let him see how upset I was. “You've got to stop living life on the edge. You could have died yesterday. I don't know what I would do if anything ever happened to you.”
“Sure you do. You’d have Morgan all to yourself.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Forget I said anything.” He sighed and rubbed his temples. “I'm just feeling sorry for myself.”
“Why?”
“When it became obvious you weren’t interested in a romantic relationship with me; it hurt. Hurt like hell. I knew in my heart if you just gave us a chance, we could be happy together. But I respected you too much to pressure you into something you weren’t comfortable with. It hurt, but I got over it, eventually.”
I could see his eyes were leaking when he turned around. Angry at their betrayal, he wiped them roughly with the back of his hand. Such a raw display of emotion was rare for Dante, and knowing I was the cause of his pain hurt my heart.
“Then I met Morgan. We had a lot of fun together, but at some point, it stopped being just about sex. I started having genuine feelings for her. To find out the two of you are getting it on…it's a punch in the gut. Of course, she will pick you; you're the better man, and I'll be alone again.”
I did not consider myself the better anything, but at the very least, I could do the right thing. “I'll stop seeing her.”
“No, don't do that. She makes you happy and I’m just being a jealous bitch because Morgan gets to have you and I don't.”
“Well, in Morgan’s defense, she does have the right equipment.” I hoped humor would hide my growing discomfort, but I could see from the look in his eyes, I had hurt him. “I love you, Dante, and if I was into men, you would be the one I’d want to spend the rest of my life with. But unfortunately for both of us, I am not gay.”
“I don't know how you can be so smart about everything else, but so stupid about this.” There was no anger in his voice, only conviction. “With love, there are no boundaries. Gay, lesbian, straight, are just labels. I don't consider somebody's gender if I find them attractive or interesting. I think deep down everybody is bisexual. Some of us are just more honest about it than others.”
It was a line of logic I had heard many times before. But this time; maybe because of everything that had happened the last 24 hours, the words hit differently. It was time to be honest with myself. I leaned in and kissed him on the lips.