The Snow White Christmas Cookie

“And what about Lem? Aren’t you afraid he might find a nude photo of Matt on your computer?”

“Lem doesn’t want me anymore, I told you.”

“That’s right, you did,” Des said with a twinge of profound sadness. Not because what Tina Champlain was telling her was shocking, but because it wasn’t. The Champlains were just a typical modern Dorset family. None of them were participating in their own lives. Instead of working toward a genuine career, Kylie wanted to be a reality TV star. Tina was more emotionally and sexually involved with her cell phone than with her husband. And Lem was reliving his glory days with his first girlfriend while Champlain Landscaping seemed to be circling the drain. Kylie had stolen a pair of four-hundred-dollar Ugg boots to keep her dream alive. Tina was sending and receiving pornographic text messages and photographs. What was Lem resorting to? Was he siphoning off money from his own business to pay for those trysts with Debbie at the Mohegan Sun? Was he stealing prescription meds, gift cards and Hank Merrill’s Christmas tips? “Tina, this is the part where I have to tell you something you won’t want to hear.”

Tina frowned at her. “About Kylie?”

“About Matt. You have no idea who he really is, okay? Matt could be some sleaze in Croatia who’s peddling those pictures of you on a porn site. Matt could be the online identity of a half-dozen horny sophomores in a frat house somewhere. Matt could be a predator who’s looking to steal your identity or nuke your credit.”

Tina’s eyes hardened. “Why would you say something horrible like that?”

“Because it’s my job to look out for you. I’ve seen what can happen. I’ve seen an innocent blond schoolgirl who thought she was meeting up at West Farms Mall with this nice high school boy she’d met on Facebook. There was no nice high school boy. She was abducted and gang raped by a wolf pack for forty-eight hours straight before they left her for dead.”

“Des, I’m not fourteen years old. I know what I’m doing. But I get where you’re coming from.”

“Do you?”

“Absolutely. You think I’m stupid.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yeah, you do,” Tina said angrily. “So stupid that I can’t even tell what’s real. What I have with Matt is real. The way we make each other feel is real. He’s the best thing that’s happened to me in years and don’t you tell me otherwise. My daughter may never walk normal again. And she may go to jail. How dare you show up here and crap all over the one good thing I have going on in my life? Who in the hell do you think you are?”

CHAPTER 8

“I need a second opinion here, doughboy. Is Tina just playing harmless X-rated cyber-games or is she cheating on her husband?”

“It’s no game. She’s totally cheating on Lem.”

“Even though she and Matt have never actually bumped skin?”

“Tina’s emotionally and sexually involved with the guy. That means she’s having an affair with him.”

They were snuggled together on the love seat in front of a roaring fire, sipping Chianti and enjoying the aroma of Mitch’s meat loaf with pancetta and onions as it baked in the oven. He still had to mash the potatoes and sautee the chard. But he was in no hurry. He could sit here like this all night with Des, who had changed out of her uniform into the gray four-ply cashmere robe that he’d bought for her in Paris on his way home from the Cannes Film Festival. Clemmie and Quirt were nestled together in an easy chair. Des’s yellow string bikini was back up on the Chanukah bush where it belonged. Outside, the snow had turned to frozen rain. He could hear it tapping on the roof and windows. On the stereo was Everybody Knows This is Nowhere, a highly addictive vintage album from Neil Young’s Crazy Horse days.

“But, Mitch, it’s not real.”

“Beg to differ, little lady. How she feels about Matt is real. Her sexual responses are real. Therefore, the betrayal is real. We’re living in a not-so brave new world now. The line between real and virtual has gotten really blurred. There are a lot of lonely, unhappy people out there. Many of them are married people who are desperate to become someone, anyone, else. Dating sites allow them to create a whole new identity. They meet new people, get involved, get laid. They even fall in love.”

“That’s not real love. And it’s for damned sure not my idea of real sex.” Des sipped her wine, staring into the fire. “Sometimes I get the feeling that things have stopped making sense.”

“You’re not alone. I get that feeling a lot.”

“Does it scare you?”

“It can. But then I hug you and I’m not scared anymore.”

She leaned over and kissed him softly. “I wish you wouldn’t say things like that. I get all gooey inside and then I’m no good for anything.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” He stroked her face, studying her with concern. “You look whipped.”

“Only because I am. After I visited the Champlains I had to log face time with my troop commander in Westbrook. Explain to him up, down and sideways why I didn’t just put out a BOLO on Kylie and let her go.”

“Are you going to get in trouble over this?”

“I don’t think so. I didn’t provoke the chase. And I tried to talk her out of her car. I’ve got witnesses who’ll corroborate that. But I had to file a detailed incident report. And it’ll definitely be reviewed by Internal Affairs.”

“Sounds to me like we’d better watch Palm Beach Story after dinner.”

“Again? I’ve already watched that damned movie three times.”

“Is that all? Then we definitely need to see it. That sequence when Claudette Colbert escapes on the train with the Ale and Quail Club has to be the funniest ten minutes Preston Sturges ever filmed. Pure gold.” He got up and put another log on the fire. “You have no idea how lucky you are.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that right?”

“You could have gotten mixed up with a critic who’s a Danny Kaye fan. Then you’d be sorry. He’d make you sit through The Man From the Diner’s Club over and over and over again. No two ways about it-you dodged a bullet when you met me.”

Des gazed out the bay window at the lights in the windows next door. “How’s Josie holding up?”

“Amazingly well considering the day she’s had. First Bryce, then Kylie. Plus Casey Zander showed up out here and got creepy on her.”

“Creepy as in?…”

“He has a major crush on her. Josie asked him politely to go home. He refused. I had to encourage him. It got a little physical-nothing serious-before he finally left. After the funeral home people carted Bryce’s body away she started right in on her to-do list. She’s incredibly organized and take-charge. I guess it helps to be a professional life coach. When I left her she was already boxing up Bryce’s possessions. She has to call his attorney, Glynis, to find out what to do with them.” Mitch refilled their wineglasses and sat back down. “She and Casey were lucky they weren’t seriously hurt when Kylie slammed into her office. She’ll have a shiner from that ceiling tile whacking her in the eye but it could have been a lot worse.”

Des pulled in her stomach muscles ever so slightly. So slightly that most people wouldn’t have noticed it. Mitch wasn’t most people.

He sipped his wine, studying her over his glass. “There’s something you really want to avoid telling me. What is it?”

She looked at him in amazement. “I can’t hide a thing from you, can I?”

“Don’t even try.”

“Look, this is kind of awkward for me. I know that you like Josie.”

He nodded. “And I know that you don’t.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You get all stiff-necked whenever she’s around.”

“Is it that obvious?”