ET began a long involved story about his first motorbike, and how his sister Janice annoyed him, harassing and nagging until he gave her a ride on it. "So she gets on the back," he said. "And I'm racing along."
"You weren’t driving dangerously were you?" Mike's mom said.
"Don't worry, mom, I was only going a few miles per hour over the speed limit," he assured her. "Anyway, talk about lead foot, Janice! Jeez! She's holding on, yelling the whole time in my ear, 'Faster! Faster!'"
"Damn! I just hate it when girls say that," Mike interjected.
The sudden mental image of what Mike was talking about cracked Marcy up, not to mention everyone else at the table.
"Mike," his mother said. "You're going to be forty this year, it’s a special day. Have you thought of how you want to celebrate? Do you want a surprise birthday party?"
"Oh, yes, please," he said, grinning mischievously at Marcy while ignoring the laughs and catcalls. "I love surprises."
Bob, Mike's sister's husband, began telling a story of how he had broken his ankle. "When I went for an operation on my ankle the nurse said, "Is it the right arm?" as they were putting me to sleep. I kept saying, "It's the ankle, the ankle! As I went under I worried that there was no telling what would happen when I lost consciousness."
"Ha, ha," Mike said. "And when you woke up you were a woman!" They all laughed uproariously over that one.
"My sister, the nurse," ET began. "When Janice was learning how to draw blood she practiced on me. No greater love, I tell you! Talk about a pin cushion. As she put in the needle her supervisor would say, "No, that's the muscle. No muscle again, nope – that's the muscle, too. Good – wait. Oops – went right through the vein that time. Well, you're getting closer."
"It wasn't that bad," Janice protested. "He's exaggerating," she assured everyone.
"He isn't," Mike whispered in Marcy's ear. "She practiced on me, too."
"Did you see the new Superman movie?" Janice asked. "Good lord, can you believe that actor's abs? Talk about beefcake. Is he ripped or what?"
ET snorted. "Disproportionately ripped - for a human anyway," he said with a cynical smirk. "While he looked pretty hot, his shape might be more appropriate for a water buffalo."
"Jealous!"
"Oh yeah, in so many ways."
"Grandma," James said to the oldest woman at the table. She hadn't taken part in much conversation, yet her facial expressions showed that she was following everything. "I'm so worried about our little Emma," he said, holding his sleeping newborn and first child. "I'm anxious over every little cough or sneeze. Is that normal? What did you find with your children? At what age do you worry most?"
Everyone went quiet while grandma took a moment to consider this question. "Well, children always go through stages when they make you worry more than other times," she pronounced. "Everyone is different of course, but for me, I think I worried about my kids the most when they got to be about the age of forty."
Marcy, who was taking a drink of wine at the time, almost choked. The entire day had been so much fun. She couldn’t recall having a better Thanksgiving.
When everyone finally left, Marcy helped Mike finish tidying up. Exhausted and overfull, they both sat down on the family room couch. Katie was outside playing fetch with Ziggy – a game neither of them ever tired of. Mike and Marcy both watched as Katie skimmed the Frisbee as far away as possible and Ziggy cheerfully brought it back – sometimes even catching it in the air.
"Did you have fun today?" he asked.
Marcy smiled. "It was the best. I love your family. It explains a lot about you."
"I knew you'd like them," Mike said. Then his voice lowered and his gaze became intense. "You and Katie need a place to stay. If I promise not to pressure you, and give you your own room, will you both move in with me?"
Marcy took a deep breath, frowned and looked away. Meeting Mike's family had obviously been just one more step in his carefully planned seduction. Not to mention marriage. She wondered what the hell she was doing. Everything was moving too fast, pushing her out of her comfort zone.
It was stressing her out.
Life on her own with Katie wasn't perfect, but it was predictable. Did she really want to move in with Mike? She hadn’t had a lot of relationships with men, but the ones she had were crap. Were her mistakes of the past likely to manifest as the same mistakes in the present and in the future? Or had she grown? Was she smarter now?
Nothing had ever worked out previously. She didn't enjoy sex, but hopefully she could change that. Mike was different person, and she was different, too. And in the final analysis, was sex the most essential reason for a relationship?
She recalled Mike's words and smiled, "Just when did having sex become the whole game anyway? Who gives a fuck about sex? Everyone acts like it's the most important thing people do, but come on! Sewer rats have sex. Cockroaches have sex. I like to think as a human being that life and love is about much more than sex. Family is important. Kids are important. Satisfaction at work and having a partner you can talk to is important. Having someone who understands you and loves you anyway is important."
Move in with Mike? Marcy's stomach jittered, thrilled with excitement at the idea of spending more time with him - including having sex with him. It was scary, it was exhilarating, and it was life changing. If what she felt toward Mike wasn't love, what was?
Marcy didn't mind jumping of the cliff, but she wasn't keen to take Katie over the edge with her. What about the risks? Moving in with Mike wasn't the safest thing to do. It could all end in tears.
A quote crossed her mind, from a 'The Way of the Peaceful Warrior,' a book she had found solace in while going through her numerous troubles over the last few years. It stated, "Stress happens when your mind resists what is. The only problem in your life is your mind’s resistance to life as it unfolds."
Marcy looked up into Mike's dark brown eyes. The restless man was perfectly still. Waiting patiently for her reply.
Thoughtful, fun, passionate and persistent. And then there were those amazing kisses. Mike's kisses were like good champagne – they gave her a ridiculous buzz, fogging her brain and pushing her whole body into a tingling high. Was this True Love? Could Mike be for real? Was he her happily ever after?
Marcy had asked Katie her thoughts about moving in with Mike. Her generally quiet and reserved daughter had screamed with delight. The man was never going to give up. She was pretty damn sure that she didn’t want him to. Why was she even trying to escape?
So stupid to resist the inevitable.
"Yes, thank you, Mike. Katie and I would love to move in with you."
37. Detective
Twenty-five year old Martin Quinn had a problem. He had fallen deliriously, madly, utterly in love with a married man's wife.
That in itself wasn't the problem.
Martin had known Debra from junior high and had been in love with her for years. Debra Berger was the perfect woman. A woman he had always imagined was out of his reach. Only now she wasn't.
Not only was Debra now well within Martin's grasp, but stealing Debra away from Trent Berger wouldn't be a sin. In fact it was the right thing to do. Martin Quinn always tried to do the right thing. He was a good man. An honest man. What Trent Berger was doing to his wife, Debra, was wrong.
Trent Berger was a selfish, cruel scumbag. He didn’t deserve a woman like Debra. Martin decided that it was up to him to take him away from her.
The question was, how could he do it? Money was not the problem – Martin had money. Yet there were other factors to take into account. Debra's father and Trent Berger for a start. Martin would have to move carefully. He needed information.
Mike Thompson had told him about a friend of his that now worked as a PI. A guy that had once been employed by Las Vegas PD as a policeman, David Abbot. Abbot investigations - that was the name. Martin would look him up and pay him to investigate Trent.
Once he had the information he needed, he wo
uld be able to decide the best way to achieve his goal. Divorce in Las Vegas only took a few weeks if both parties agreed. When Martin finished with him, Trent Berger would allow Debra to divorce him.
And then I will be able to marry her myself, Martin mused happily.
~~~
John Cooper, Debra Berger's father, sat at his desk in front of his computer deep in thought.
At fifty years old he was still big and strong. The look in his eye, the set of his jaw - it all combined with his confident, self-assured stride that proclaimed he was a self-made man. A man that it wouldn’t be wise to fuck with.
Right now John Cooper was unhappy.
That was because his only daughter was unhappy. Oh, Debra didn't say she was unhappy, nor did she act out of character, but sometimes a father just knew. Thanksgiving dinner at her house had gone off without a hitch. Conversation was normal, everyone acted perfectly. But that was the thing.
It had been all a big act.
Trent Berger was a chummy ingratiating son-in-law. Well, that was expected. John had looked into his history before he married his daughter. The man had no criminal record. He was top of his class at school. He was an excellent orthodontist.
During Thanksgiving dinner references were made about them having children. So far so good.
Then why was Debra unhappy?
John hadn’t led a perfect life. In fact he had engaged in just about every vice known to man. He had strong-armed people. He had lied and cheated, and made his first million through, shall we say, non-transparent means. This was Vegas after all. John could be prosecuted for tax evasion alone. But all that was in the past. He had been on the straight and narrow for years.
His wife, Mary had been a good woman. If she had lived, John wouldn’t be worrying about Debra. Debra was one of the only good things he had ever done in his life. He had sent her to all the right schools. He had raised her just as her mother, God rest her soul, would have wanted. So where had he gone wrong?
The only thing now would be to investigate. John wasn't going to investigate his daughter – hell no. He knew that there was nothing wrong with Debra. But Trent Berger? Trent, he would look into. Just what was that man doing to make his Debra so unhappy?
He googled Vegas private investigators, and Abbot investigations came up first on the list. David Abbott. John scanned through Abbott's qualifications, which included being on the Las Vegas Police Force for ten years.
An experienced ex-cop. Good enough. He had a strong sounding all American name, too.
John picked up the phone, and gave the man a call.
~~~
David Abbott sat in his Ford Mustang Boss 302. Even though he had bluetooth installed, he always pulled over when he got a call from a possible client. That way he had all his attention on the call, and could take notes as needed.
For this case he hadn’t needed to take many notes.
David considered calling his friend Mike Thompson immediately, and then decided against it. He would re-investigate the mark first, and think it through.
A few weeks ago, Mike Thompson had asked him to conduct a full inquiry on Trent Berger. Today, on the same day, two more people had also asked for a comprehensive investigation to be carried out on Trent Berger.
David's curious mind just loved a puzzle. There were so many questions. Why Berger? Why now? And what was the connection between these three different clients?
Mr. Trent Berger was a wealthy man – at least on paper he was. He had a practicing orthodontic clinic named, "Perfect Smile Dental." Berger also cheated on his wife with other women. Well, many men did that. Some cheated with other men, too.
Infidelity was nothing new.
Mr. Berger had a separate account in his own name where he salted away money that his wife, Debra Berger knew nothing about. Again, many married men did exactly the same thing. Of course the IRS might be interested in Berger's little offshore account. It was quite likely that the money placed there never had tax paid on it.
His father-in-law would be interested, too. Particularly as he owned half of the business that Mr. Berger was stealing from.
Other than that, the man had no criminal record. No substance abuse issues. No children out of wedlock. No potential lawsuits.
As far as David could tell – that was it.
Trent Berger's customers loved him – the man did good work. He never paid a penny of child support for his only child - which made him an 'A' grade asshole. But again, spouses of both sexes frequently avoided their responsibilities.
David rubbed his chin, took a deep breath and shrugged. It was a mystery. Why were all these people interested in Berger right now?
Putting his indicator on, David pulled back out into the traffic. As he loved a good mystery, David Abbott was looking forward to working it out.
Besides, I'm going to be paid three times for one job, he thought cheerfully. It just doesn't get any better than that.
38. Happiness
Mike Thompson's jaw ached because he couldn’t stop smiling. This overpowering elation was hard to tamp down. Katie and Marcy had moved in over the weekend. It hadn't taken much to move them, mainly because they didn't have much.
Well, that was just fine because he had plenty.
After Barbara's death, Mike's sorrow had isolated him, setting him apart from everyone else. He continued the everyday activities of living, mechanically going through the motions like a spectator, rather than a participant.
For so long Mike had a deep aching emptiness inside. He hid his anguish from his family, his friends, and even from himself. In the end that relentless loneliness had become such a normal part of his life that he had become unaware of his unhappiness.
André had seen through Mike's façade.
André had always known.
With Marcy that unspeakable burden had disappeared. Now he enjoyed a euphoric lightness of spirit. Marcy was a balm to his soul. Did his gorgeous girl have the slightest idea of just how much he needed her? Of just how much he loved her?
While helping unpack her stuff, Mike found a big family portrait of Katie, Marcy and Marcy's mom. Three generations of Paget women, three sets of beautiful honey-brown eyes staring back at him. They were sitting down in a photographic studio he guessed, because the background of the photograph was a creamy biscuit color. The women all were wearing casual summer dresses in different shades of blue.
The portrait had stirred him. Marcy's mom was in the middle. Both Marcy and Katie had their arms wrapped around her, their faces shining with love. One innocent moment of true joy had been flawlessly captured by the photographer.
Katie must have been about five years old, and Marcy's mom looked healthy and vibrant. Mike had gotten out hooks and a hammer, and had immediately put the portrait in a prominent place in the family room, just next to the kitchen.
Marcy, reserved woman that she was, had tried to conceal her emotions. Mike had seen water well in her eyes, and the grateful smile she gave him.
"Thank you," she had whispered.
Mike had been emotional, too – unable to articulate all he felt. He had simply nodded, but he could see that Marcy understood. Mike wanted them to be a family. Having them move in had been an important step toward that goal.
She's going to marry me, he reassured himself.
Was Marcy on the pill? Mike wanted to discuss having children, yet he felt uncomfortable broaching the subject. He really wanted them, but did she? He intended to marry Marcy because he loved her. His longing for a kid of his own was not part of the equation. But if Marcy wanted to have another child? Well, that would be a bonus.
He smiled, momentarily envisioning their future together. Two or three children would even be better.
Mike was having a difficult time getting Marcy to say yes to marriage as it was. He didn’t want to pressure her. And he didn’t want her to imagine that he only wanted her for children.
To his mind Katie was his daughter already. Fantastic little girl th
at she was, Katie was more than enough. Could there be a better kid out there? He didn't think so.
But Mike was still dying to have a child of his own.
Marcy and Katie live with me now. It had been a long time since Mike had known such incredible, buoyant, and joyous happiness.
Mike felt it running through his veins, in his body, in his soul. It was that satisfying contentment and crazy thrill of joy that could only be called love. He loved Marcy and was nuts about Katie. How had he lived without them? They were already so much a part of his life. His big house was no longer empty.
Now it was a home.
When Marcy admitted that she had never taken Katie shopping in the dawn of Black Friday, Mike decided they all would go. Even though he didn’t much care to shop, he wanted Katie to see what Black Friday was all about. As family outings went, it would be unique and fun.
The energy and enthusiasm for the event was overwhelming. They managed about two hours of fighting the crowds, laughing at how extreme it all was. Mike ended up buying Katie a Kindle, because she loved to read. She was such a neat kid.
On Saturday they bought a Christmas tree, and spent the weekend decorating it. Now the nine foot Douglas Fir proudly stood in the family room, just off the kitchen with its multicolored lights winking. He had put on Disney Christmas carols, to make the mood complete. The house smelled of fir tree, family and happy memories.
Marcy went to have a shower. Mike sat in the family room with Katie. She sat cross legged on the carpet near the tree, petting Ziggy. That damn dog had lost all interest in him – now he belonged to Katie. Mike wasn't even slightly envious. Kids and dogs were made for each other.
He took a pull of beer from the bottle, enjoying the sight and smell of the Christmas tree. Having Katie and his dog beneath it, only further improved his mood. This would be a perfect Christmas. Mike inhaled with a deep sigh of contentment.
"Mike?" Katie asked, turning to look at him. Poignant and familiar, "Silent Night" played in the background.
"Humm?"
"Can I ask you something?"