Courting Trouble

It was late by the time they got to Bennie’s house, and Anne settled onto the warm dining room table, trying to shake her gloom and her fatigue. Bennie had gone to fix some dinner for her and to get Mel a saucer of milk. The cat crouched at Anne’s feet while Bennie’s golden retriever, Bear, snuffled up his fur with a wet nose, leaving slobbery patches in the cat’s usually immaculate coat and misaligning his dark stripes. Anne’s hand hovered protectively nearby. For the dog’s protection.

“How they doin’?” Bennie called from the kitchen, just out of eyeshot.

“Oh, they’re becoming fast friends!” Anne called back. Mel took a declawed swipe at Bear, which would remain their little secret. It did nothing to deter the dog, a hundred pounds of red fur with a pink tongue. Bear had been in constant motion, dancing around Mel when Anne first set him on the floor, then bowing in front of him to play, and finally pawing the air between them. She marveled that Bear craved such instant intimacy and attributed it to a disturbing lack of discretion on the animal’s part. In other words, a dog thing.

“Is the cat okay?” Bennie called out again. From the kitchen came the clink of glasses, and in the living room Mel took another swipe with his paw, which Bear misinterpreted as an invitation to frolic. Anne was getting the distinct impression that goldens believed everyone really loved them, despite any and all evidence to the contrary. They could be the erotomanics of the dog world.

“Not to worry!” Anne called back.

“Two percent or light cream?”

“Two percent is fine!”

“I have a can of tuna, too.”

“Great! Thanks!” Anne lifted the cat onto her lap before he blinded his new best friend. Mel settled into Sphinx Cat, and by the time Bennie entered the room with a tray, he looked completely innocent. He was scary- good at it.

“Here we go,” Bennie said, setting the tray down on the oak table. The tray had a frosted-glass bottom, funky blue handles, and a price tag stuck to the side. $12.98, Michael Graves, on sale at Target. Anne was no sleuth but she figured Bennie didn’t entertain much, and she’d heard something about Bennie breaking up with her live-in boyfriend. Mental note: You can never tell who’s lonely just by looking.

“Thanks.”

“Can this tiny thing feed this creature?” Bennie asked, holding up a white ramekin of milk.

“Sure. Just set it on the floor.”

“No way. Not with a golden in the tri-state area. Food on the floor is fair game.” Bennie set the ramekin on the dining room table, as Mel watched. “Murphy, you want to show it to him or something?”

“He sees it. He’ll have some when he’s ready.”

“Amazing.” Bennie rolled up the sleeves of her workshirt. Between it, her worn shorts, and her slightly grubby bare feet, she looked remarkably comfortable, not only in her own house, but in her own skin. “A dog never delays eating. See?” Bear’s tail wagged like crazy and he was already sniffing the ramekin. He would have snorted it empty if Bennie hadn’t leaned over and moved it out of reach. “I hope the cat doesn’t wait too long to have some.”

“Guaranteed that he will, for purposes of doggie torture.” Anne stroked Mel’s head and he purred. She reached for her soda and took a long, cold slug. “Thank you for the drink and the hospitality.”

“I’m happy to do it.” Bennie cocked her head so that a tangle of ponytail tumbled over her shoulder to her breast pocket. “I checked on what I have for dinner. Oranges and three eggs. Sorry, I haven’t had the chance to go food-shopping, with depositions and the near-death experience of one of my best associates.”

“I’m not really hungry. I usually have cereal for dinner.”

“That I can cook.” Bennie turned, headed for the kitchen, and returned with two tablespoons, two bowls, a half-quart of Wawa milk, and a box of Shredded Wheat, which she put on the table and sat down in the chair opposite Anne. Track lighting that ringed the room set a soft glow to her face and highlighted her blond hair. “Dinner is served.”

“Great!” Anne said, though she usually avoided Shredded Wheat. The box remained on the table: squat, red, and remarkably smug for a breakfast food. Its long list of “Nutrition Facts” faced her, reporting alarming amounts of phosphorus, magnesium, zinc, and copper. Metal belonged in plumbing, not breakfast, but Anne reached for the cereal, fixed herself a bowl, and pretended it was Captain Crunch.

“So, let’s review,” Bennie said, swallowing. “You’ve survived a stalker who wanted to kill you, a client who wanted to fire you, and haircut by office scissors.”

Anne managed a smile. “One of these things is not like the other.” She took another bite of Shredded Wheat, which didn’t taste bad because it lacked taste altogether. She glanced around the polished pine table for a sugar bowl, but it was completely bare except for the woven place mats of yellow straw. Maybe that’s what was in this cereal. “May I have some sugar, please?”

“No,” Bennie answered.

“Kidding?”

“There’s no sugar in the house. No sugar and no TV. They’re both bad for your health.”

Anne thought this must be some form of insanity. No Lucy? “No sugar?”

“Ever hear of sugar blues?”

“Is it how you feel when there’s no sugar in the house?”

Bennie smiled. “Forget it.” She finished another mouthful of Shredded Wheat. “You don’t like sports, do you, Murphy?”

“I shop. It takes stamina. I train by eating Cocoa Krispies. Now that’s dinner.” Anne became vaguely aware that she was trying to make Bennie laugh, and wondered why that was so.

“I admire you, Murphy. I do.”

“Me?” Anne almost choked, but it could have been the place mat.

“I think you’re handling your situation like a champ. I’ve taken some heat in my time, but not like this. I’m proud of you. This is just awful, and I know how horrible you feel about Willa.”

“Thanks,” Anne said quickly, feeling her face warm. “I do appreciate everything that you, and the others, have done for me.”

“No problem, but it’s not over yet. Tomorrow is the big day. The memorial service.” Bennie ate more cereal and washed it down with Diet Coke. “We will get this asshole. DiNunzio’s tougher than she looks, and Carrier comes through in any clutch. They both do.”

“I bet.”

“But I have an apology to make, on their behalf and my own.” Bennie paused, eyeing Anne directly. “None of us was welcoming when you first came to the firm, and it’s my fault. I didn’t take the time to get you assimilated. I didn’t realize how important it was. None of us acted very well, and I’m very sorry for that.”

“That’s okay.” Anne swallowed the thickness in her throat. She set down her tablespoon and vowed never to eat home furnishings again.

“No, it’s not okay. I’m a good lawyer, but I see now I’m not a good manager. I’m not so good, I think, at making sure everybody is getting along, being happy. Working together. I usually make sure we win.”

“Winning is good.”

“Not good enough. Things fall through the cracks, and people. Like you.”

“I wasn’t so friendly—”

“The burden was on us. On me. You came to my city, to my firm. However you acted was understandable, considering what you’d been through.”

No time like the present. “I have a question, Bennie. You knew everything about Kevin. About my past.” She thought of her mother’s bouquet of daisies. “How was that?”

“One of your work references told me about Kevin. That he’d tried to kill you, that you’d held up under extreme pressure and put him in jail.”

“They’re only supposed to verify term of employment,” Anne said, surprised.

“They wanted you to get the job. They were trying to help you change your life. And when I heard the full story, it sold me. I knew you could take anything I could dish out.”

Anne smiled. She really wanted to ask about her mother, but it seemed so awkward.

“The rest I researched. I have lots of friends in the criminal defense bar out there, and I asked around.” Bennie sipped her soda, and the ice made a sound too festive for the conversation. “I remembered from the interview that you said you had no family. But you didn’t say anybody had died. And there was no mention of a