“Are you okay?” Ramirez asked me.
“I’m fine.” I paused. “He didn’t do it.” I know, it was a feeble attempt, but I had to make it. And, I realized, I honestly believed it. It was painfully obvious now that Richard didn’t have the guts to shoot anyone.
But it made any trace of Ramirez’s concern for my safety disappear. His face settled into those hard Schick commercial lines and just like that he was the unreadable Bad Cop again. He crossed the room in one quick stride and before I could say Miranda Rights, Richard’s hands were cuffed behind his back and Ramirez was doing the right to remain silent speech.
A lump knotted in my throat and I balled my fists at my sides. Only right at the moment I wasn’t sure who to be more angry at. Richard for getting involved in such a stupid scheme to begin with, or Ramirez for arresting the father of my possible child. Or, to be honest, myself, for leading Ramirez right to him. I suddenly wondered if this had been Ramirez’s plan all along. Why he’d sat through my mother’s kitschy wedding and made nice with Grandmother.
“You can’t do this,” I protested. “He’s innocent. He didn’t kill anyone.”
Ramirez wasn’t moved. He didn’t even look at me, dialing a number into his cell phone instead and requesting backup.
“He was here the whole time. Please, don’t do this.” God, I was pleading as pathetically as Richard had been just a minute ago.
Only Ramirez wasn’t half as receptive as I’d been.
“I have a warrant,” he responded in a flat monotone. “He’s wanted for murder. I have to take him in.”
“But, but… you kissed me!”
Both Ramirez and Richard turned to look at me. Then at each other. Uh oh. I could feel the testosterone level rising in the air.
“It was just a little kiss,” I squeaked out.
Had Richard not been in handcuffs, I’d like to think he would have decked Ramirez. In reality, Ramirez would have had him flat on the floor before he even threw a punch. Either way, they let the animosity lie between them untouched as there was little Richard could do besides glare.
Ramirez held Richard by the shoulder and escorted him to the door. He paused as their little parade passed me. “I assume you can find another ride home.”
And then he left.
Shit. I picked up the lamp on the writing desk and threw it on the floor with all my might. Just my luck it was plastic and kind of bounced on the shag carpet instead of making a satisfying crash. Tears welled behind my eyes, but I was damned if I was going to cry again. I’d done enough of that in the last few days to last me a lifetime. And especially not over two idiots like Richard and Ramirez.
I hated them both. Richard could rot in jail for all I cared and Ramirez… Well Ramirez could kiss my granny panties. He’d had his tongue down my throat not fifteen minutes ago and now wouldn’t even listen to me. Just like a man. That was it. I was through with all of them. The whole male species. Maybe I’d make my grandmother proud and go join a convent after all.
Speaking of Grandmother…
I was pretty sure if I sat here feeling sorry for myself much longer, someone from the reception would come looking for me. And I so didn’t want to have to explain this to my relatives. How many Hail Marys did one get for sleeping with criminals?
Because it hit me, that’s just what Richard was. Even if he hadn’t had anything to do with the murders, he’d flat out confessed to the embezzlement. White collar or no, that was a crime. I was carrying a criminal’s baby. Maybe.
That squishy burrito turned into a lead weight in my stomach.
I left the room, closing Richard’s door behind me and took the elevator back down to the lobby. I was sure in a matter of minutes Ramirez’s backup would have CSI teams combing the room for any speck of incriminating evidence. And I wasn’t in the mood for a lint roll right now.
I hightailed it back into the main hall just in time to see Mom throwing her bouquet. Both Mrs. Rosenblatt and Dana made a mad dash for it. A few beads popped off Mrs. Rosenblatt’s mumu, but Dana caught the flowers in the end. Then gazed starry eyed at No Neck. Poor guy, he didn’t know what he’d gotten himself into.
I think I put on a passably convincing facade of everything was hunky dory in Maddie’s life for the rest of the reception. I avoided Grandmother’s not-so-subtle hinting over my biological clock versus Ramirez’s suitable Catholic husband status, and even managed not to scratch my own eyeballs out through the removal of the garter belt, which I now knew should never be attempted by any bride over the age of forty. Yick.
By the time we were all blowing bubbles out of tiny bell shaped wands as Mom and Faux Dad jumped into their 1974 Mercedes with the words “just married” in shaving cream on the back window, I felt like I’d run a marathon. If I had to keep the plastic smile wedged on my face any longer I had a feeling I’d permanently end up looking like Perky Reporter Woman.
And as I watched them drive away I had a sudden and profound feeling of loneliness. Richard was on his way to prison, Ramirez – whatever that was between us – was over, Dana and No Neck had left hand in hand for another night of great sex at the Actor’s Duplex, and even Mom and Faux Dad were in their own little honeymoon world for two weeks in Hawaii. It was just me and the Purple People Eater. Deep sigh.
Mrs. Rosenblatt agreed to give me a ride back to Beefcakes, where my little red Jeep had spent the night. It was dark by the time I finally drove up to my studio and I was beyond tired. I was in that state of feeling sorry for myself that comes just before the walking dead phase of exhaustion. I trudged up the stairs and unlocked the door, not even bothering to turn on the lights before I collapsed onto my futon.
I gave myself five minutes to cry. Just five. Then, I was going to be done, finished. Over that creep for good. Never mind I wasn’t quite sure which creep I was talking about.
Richard, right? I mean, Richard was the one I should be getting over. He was the one I’d been dating for the past five months, all the while blind to the fact he’d been married to Cinderella on the side. Richard’s betrayal was what should be eating me up inside.
Only, as I closed my eyes all I could think about was the way Ramirez’s lips had tasted on mine. Like canapes and champagne.
God I was pathetic.
I rolled over and buried my head in a pillow, my only comfort knowing that tomorrow couldn’t possibly be worse than today had been.
I felt sunlight hit my face the next morning, but was almost afraid to open my eyes for fear of what new disaster might await me. Tornado? Hurricane? Plague? It wouldn’t surprise me. With the way my life was going my aura must be a pukey puce by now.
I summoned up all my courage and cracked one eye open.
No detectives sleeping beside me. No cell phone ringing. No screeching brides or best friends. So far so good.
Gingerly I got up and flipped on my Mr. Coffee. After two strong cups I turned on the news to see if Richard had made the morning report.
Perky Reporter Woman did a ten second snippet on the arrest of Devon Greenway’s lawyer, but the whole story was losing steam and had been sandwiched between a segment on a school closure in Watts and a dog who sniffed out heroin at the airport. The press had moved on.
And, honestly, I should too. Richard probably had a whole team of lawyers surrounding him by now, pulling every rabbit out of their legal hats to get him safely back to his leather and chrome condo. What could I possibly do to help that they couldn’t? More importantly, why did I even want to?
I sighed. My gaze straying to the EPT on the counter.
That’s why.
I stared at the little pink box. It stared back and I could swear it was silently mocking me. (bok, bok, bok)
“Fine, I’ll take the damn test!” I yelled to the universe at large. I picked up the stupid little box and marched into the bathroom. After reading the instructions only three times (my hands were shaking just a little) I
