Disparity By Design 4/10
Feb. 16th, 2012 07:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
whedonistTitle: Disparity by Design
Fandom: Nikki & Nora
Pairing: Nikki & Nora
Rating: PG-13 to NC-17 – some parts are more risqué, some have serious language and deal with mature themes and adult concepts like violence, offensive language and naughtiness.
Disclaimer: I’m sure I’ve covered this in the previous 7 stories I’ve written in this fandom, but to cover my bases, I’ll repeat myself – Not mine. I’m playing with someone else’s toys, Nancylee Myatt's and others actually. All for fun and if money is being made off what I’m writing, someone should let me know.
Author’s Note: Another week goes by another chapter goes up. Enjoy everyone, happy belated v-day. =0)
Ch. 4 – Shadows Crawl
I lean back against the maroon padded leather of the booth Nora and I are sharing with Casey and her girlfriend, Gabby.
I’m a little shocked that she has a girlfriend.
Casey has always held firm to her ‘no strings’ lifestyle.
There must be something different with this one.
My assessment of Gabby hasn’t changed.
Evil pixie about covers it.
What I do know in the hour or so since we’ve been here is that Nora’s started in on a sulk that defies logic.
Three drinks in with easy conversation and I still can’t pin down what’s troubling her.
It can’t be work. We checked out sooner than we should have, but nothing from our actives was popping. We could have stayed and watched the dust settle.
We’re also neck deep in bodies, but we needed the break.
I run a hand over Nora’s right thigh then settle on the inside of it.
"So," Casey says after setting her empty beer bottle on the lacquered table top, "You two have been working nonstop. Why did you agree to come out and not go home and sleep?"
Nora shrugs, but I offer, "Well, we figured that if we drunk enough tonight, we'd still be drunk by the time we ended up going into work and that, Casey, my dear, was the better option than going home to be annoyed that neither of us can sleep."
"Well, for the record," Casey points between the two of us, "I think both you are nuts."
"Duly noted and logged," I say before taking another healthy drink of my rum and coke. The alcohol is a little too watered down from the melted ice cubes. We’ll be due for a refill soon. I set the drink down and look curiously at the new couple.
"So, how did you two meet?" Nora drawls, earning a look from me.
"Through a mutual friend," Gabby offers.
That’s all she offers.
It's Casey that takes the reins, "You remember, Bill?" She looks at Nora than at me.
“Interesting young man,” I remember. “He seemed intent on introducing us the varying differences of skinhead subculture if I remember rightly?”
Casey nods her head.
Gabby snickers. “Bill’s good for that.”
“How is he by the way?” I ask, busying myself with trying to quietly soothe Nora between the lags in conversation.
“Good,” Casey says, “he’s been between here and Chicago the past few months. He’s in town this week though and,” she turns her attention to Gabby and asks, “Is he supposed to go back soon?”
Gabby shakes her head. “I think he’s home base for the foreseeable.”
“That’s good. So, Bill introduced you two?” Nora asks.
“Not really…” Casey ventures.
“Actually, Cas and I have known each other since I was in high school. We were acquaintances. I was working in Chicago and Bill called me up saying that he needed some friends down here and could get me a job.” Gabby shrugs. “I figured that it could be a nice change of pace and here we are.”
“And what were you doing in Chicago?” I’m curious.
“I was working at a tattoo shop as a piercer during the days and a bartender at night.” She takes a drink of the dark beer she’s been nursing since we got here. “All those types of jobs are easy to relocate with. Everyone drinks and for some reason, there’s never a shortage of people wanting to get puncture wounds,” she smirks. Her eyebrows dance.
“Tattoos I get, but piercing…” Nora trails off and shakes her head.
“I still don’t know why you have one,” I poke at her.
Nora rolls her eyes, but Casey chimes in, “Oh, come on, Nik. It’s sweet.”
Gabby rolls her eyes. “You, love, are too much of a romantic.”
“Pfft, no such thing. I understand you aren’t one to be wooed or whatever, but some girls, cough cough, like it every now and again.” Casey sticks her tongue out at her girlfriend and makes a silly face.
Gabby chuckles. “I’ll remember that.”
My hand on Nora’s thigh rubs circles, trying to get her to relax a little.
It’s Casey that picks up on what’s happening on this side of the table, “You feeling okay?” She directs the question to Nora.
Nora covers the surprise quickly and her shoulders drop a little, the muscle under my hand twitches and she lies, “Yeah,” she sighs, “just really kind of tired.”
“I get like that too,” Gabby admits. “I used to work like three jobs; I’d work from nine p.m. to seven a.m., go straight to my other job until three, go home for a few hours and then go to work from six to nine to go back to my other job. You get foggy after awhile.” The short blonde bobs her head while her thumb nail works the label free on Casey’s beer bottle. She shakes her head and asks, “What do you two do again?”
Nora holds up her gold shield and Gabby’s eyes widen.
“Cool,” she recovers quickly and Cas lays her head on the woman’s shoulder. Gabby threads their fingers together on top of the table and lays her cheek against the top of Casey’s head.
“We’ve been going nonstop for about three weeks, so really, tonight, was kind of needed,” I fill in. “In fact,” I shake my empty rock glass and decide, “I think we’re about due for another round.”
Nora raises her eyebrow and asks, “Just how exactly are you planning on getting us home?”
I giggle and hold up my phone, “Phone a friend, cher. Darius said that he could pick us up if need be.”
“How is he?” Casey asks, “His band hasn’t played in a few weeks and I miss seeing him around. The man’s hilarious.”
“He’s good. Rashad is taking up a bit more of his time, but he’s not bad at all,” Nora answers while I stand and look over the table.
“Who wants what?” I inquire as I lean against the table.
“Nothing, thanks,” Gabby and Casey say together.
Nora raises her empty glass and says, “Two more of these and while you’re there, maybe a couple shots. My liver isn’t adequately saturated.”
“Nor, you are up to big things over there,” Casey whistles.
Laughing, I saunter off to go fill the order. Weaving my way through the cluster of people to the bar. The man working it tonight is someone I’m used to, Jared, I think his name is.
He smiles at me and I think I’m wrong about his name. Oh, well, nothing a good batting of my lashes can’t cure. “Three rum and cokes, more rum than coke and four shots of the reserve tequila you hide under the counter.” I wink at him and lean forward.
He nods and as his eyes drift below my neckline.
Boys are soooo easy.
He finally realizes that I know what he’s doing and scurries off to fill the order. I look over my shoulder and see two men standing in front of our table. I watch as Casey and Gabby scoot from the booth. The shorter blonde helps Casey into her jacket and then Casey leans down to say something to Nora.
The two men and our two companions for the evening head for the door, disappearing from my line of site once they get past the dance floor.
I lean against Nora and she, in all her drunken glory leans, into me. We stumble and stagger out of Phantoms. I gave up trying to multitask. My phone goes back to my coat pocket.
My head feels okay, a little fuzzy around the edges, but Nora’s three sheets and then some to the wind.
“Ya know,” she kinda slurs, resting her head on my shoulder, “I had fun tonight.”
My heels clack against the pavement and kick little sprays of water up from the storm that just passed. “Me too, sug.”
“Good.” My girl leans up and pecks my cheek. “I’m sorry too. About how crappy things have been. I kinda think that someone, like Dveris or maybe Tosano, maybe they’re gunnin’ for the department, ya know?”
Her arm tightens around my waist when we stop in front of Frankie. Reaching around I unhook the keys from her left hip belt loop, I unlock the passenger side door and deposit her on the bench seat. As I tucker her feet in and shut the door, the wind decides to pick up, sending a sharp, icy breeze through the thin material of my top.
Shivering, I run around the front end of Frankie cursing my lack of forethought in the jacket department. Through the windshield, I see Nora lean over and pop the lock on the driver’s side. I’m grateful when she pulls the latch and the door pushes open so I can dive inside.
“I’s cold,” Nora states and snuggles in to my side. I manage to slip the key in the ignition and turn Frankie over. “And I am sorry,” she nuzzles into my neck.
Oh, jeeze.
“Things have been God awful at work. I think they are gunnin’ for us. Maybe just me and you, but the teams takin’ a beating too.” As per the standard for a drunk Nora, her hands develop a mind of their own and run around my torso to lace together around my hips.
“Nor, sug, maybe we should wait to have this conversation when you’re sober,” I suggest.
“Nope,” she shoots me down. Of course she does. Why wouldn’t she? “I like being out though.”
Eh?
“I mean, like, I don’t have to make up bullshit excuses and my mom knows, which is awesome, kinda. I wish she’d drop the marriage thing, but…” Nora stops talking as her head pops up from its place on my shoulder.
She’s grinning like a fool and I shut my eyes.
I really don’t need to hear the words that I think that she’s going to say.
The silence in the car stretches. My eyes stay shut.
Eventually, her head finds its spot on my shoulder once again and she sighs. I allow my eyes to open and rest my cheek on top of her blonde head.
“Being out is okay,” she mumbles. “What I don’t like is Gabby.”
My mouth quirks up. I lace our fingers together and let the heat from the car warm us up.
“And why not?” I take the bait and just content myself with hearing her talk.
I feel her face scrunch up and she says, “Dunno, she’s just…sometimes she’s okay, like I’m good with her and I think she’ll treat Casey right. Right? ‘Cause, I know you weren’t her biggest fan, especially with the way you found out about us, but I love her, Nik and she deserves it.”
“You love her, huh?” I poke at my girl. I’m not sure this is entirely fair to Nora, but she’s given me an opening. I’m going to exploit it.
“Yep.” Her head pops up again and I look at her. Her brows are knitted together and she’s chewing her lower lip. The glassy hue of her eyes doesn’t bode well. “Like I love Jill. Jill’s special that way. Just like my Ann. They’re all mine though. My Jill. My Ann. My Casey.”
“Hmm.” I’m not sure if I should be jealous or not. I am. Kind of.
“So, she needs to be treated right and did you call Darius?” I watch as she fishes for her phone.
Stopping her, I nod. “I told him to never mind. I’m not drunk. Buckle up, Nora. I’ll get us home.”
She shrugs and goes back to leaning on me. I lean against my door and push her against her own.
She’s already half asleep and doesn’t notice the difference between my body and her precious car’s passenger door.
I put Frankie into gear and head towards home.
It’s going to be a long night.
I navigate through a city that bustles about at all hours. Weaving in and out of traffic towards our home’s quiet neighborhood, I split my attention between Nora and task of operating a muscle car that goes from zero to ‘oh, shit’ in the time it takes to blink.
New Orleans is a favorite place to party and the tourists eat it up. I watch one group of said tourists pass the front of the car as I wait on the light to change. Once they do and it does, the arrow for the left turn on to our street lights up. I rumble down it, put Frankie in her designated spot in front of Bruce and kill the engine.
“Nora,” I lean over and shake my lover’s shoulder. “Nor, we’re home. Come on.”
“Wha?” she mumbles wiping the corner of her mouth.
“Home,” I say and point to our walkway. “Our bed is that way.”
“Oh, yeah.” Nora brightens and rights herself.
Exiting from my side, I wanted to make it over to her before she tried to make her escape, but I wasn’t quick enough. She’s already stumbling up the sidewalk. I make sure her door is locked before taking off after her and place a steadying hand at the small of her back.
We manage to make it to our door with only one incident which was actually my fault. The broken heel of my pump is clutched in my left hand as I steer Nora against the frame of the door so I can unlock it.
The house is quiet when I get us through and lock up while Nora takes the steps one at a time.
Throwing the lock and racing to catch up to my lover, I ask “You okay?” and come up behind her.
“Hmm, yeah. I just want to get to sleep.” She finds a little bit of energy and we reach the landing. Not bothering with anything else, we both strip down to our undies, bra’s get discarded with the rest of our clothing and fall into bed.
Mister hops up and settles at our feet.
“Nik,” Nora whispers as she slips up behind me, pressing her knees behind mine. One arm sneaks its way over my tummy to grab my hand. She twines our fingers together and presses them between my breasts. “You know I didn’t include you in my love list for a reason, right?” her question blows her warm, alcohol laced breath over my ear and cheek.
“No,” I manage and try to pull away, but she holds firm.
“Why would I when you’re in a league of your own,” she responds and my eyes burn and water.
Damn her.
I glance down at the Philip Stein I purchased last month as an early birthday present for myself and wonder how much longer the parole board is going to take with Nora. She’s been in their hot seat for the past half hour.
I know if it were me, I’d rather them keep Skip Vatter locked up for as long as possible. I didn’t even know Nora when she put him away. It was her and her first partner, Jerry Tombridge that closed the case. Nora filled me in on the case and on Tombridge. She hasn’t been too kind when she’s brought either of them up.
The only good things she’s said are that he retired soon after she transferred to S.C.U.
I do know that Vatter was a piece of work and took the fall for a series of assaults. Ten years later the man gets to try for parole.
I’m not entirely sure that’s fair. Two of his victims showed today. One is permanently handicapped and the other’s face is paralyzed on the left side.
The goal of prison is rehabilitation and penance. Listening to Vatter talk, he says the right words, but his tone…
It smacks of bad acting and poorly rehearsed lines.
Nora’s been trying to tell them as much. I’m not sure that they’re hearing her.
The head of the board thanks her for her time. She doesn’t look pleased.
Looking up, I see her stand and turn towards me. The suit she put on this morning was a crisp black with a royal blue silk blouse, but now, it seems to have lost its appeal. My Nora looks rumpled and tired.
I stand and follow her out of the room.
The hallway is standard institution décor. White washed walls, vinyl flooring, brown baseboards and acoustic tiles. Our heels clack as we move along, filling the silence. We round the corner to the front and a guard hits the buzzer to let us into the antechamber where we left our guns.
“You two done?” the guard, the name tag reads Conner, asks.
“For this week,” I inform her. “The two we had today and unfortunately, they couldn’t schedule our other hearing this week, so we’ll see you on Monday.”
“That’s a pisser,” the guard tries to sympathize with us, “It’s what a three hour hike, one-way?”
“Yep,” Nora confirms, securing her sidearm to her hip. “See you then.”
I wave goodbye to the officer and pick up my pace to catch up with Nora.
From my purse, I produce our sunglasses and hand hers off. Slipping them on, we head straight for Bruce and I unlock the doors right before Nora yanks the driver’s side open.
Sighing, I hop in the SUV and buckle up.
She’ll let lose in a second and I can’t help but feel a little miffed about the goings on today.
We had a decent – okay so we got her drunk, but that usually does the trick when she’s wound tighter than a girdle on a Baptist minister’s wife at an all you can eat pancake breakfast.
These damn parole hearings have shot it all to hell.
I open my mouth to say her name just as her hand comes down and smacks the top of the steering wheel. “Those stupid bastards!”
The muscles in her neck chord and she spits, “They’re going to let him out. They saw his victims. They heard me talk. I told them to watch the interrogation tapes and they’re still going to let him go.”
“I’m sorry,” is pretty much all I got. My case wasn’t so bad. My guy, Leon Florence, should get out. Ron and I busted him with a truck load of stolen goods and the guy’s served his time.
Nora’s eyes shut tight and she leans her head back trying to get a grip.
“And we gotta come back up here in three days.” Her cheeks puff out and then deflate as the air leaves her puckered lips in a disgruntled huff.
“At least we can just go home today,” I try and find some silver lining.
Nora kills the Pollyanna moment. “No we don’t. Remember I told my mom we’d be over for dinner.” Her head falls forward to thump against the steering wheel. “She wants to know what we’re doing for Thanksgiving.”
That’s actually a good question.
“What did we do last year?” I wonder, scratching my forehead.
Nora straightens up and turns the car over and heads towards the Sixty-six. The one thing about Angola is there’s only one way in which means there’s only one way out.
“Your dad gave us a bye and went to your Uncles, we were supposed to go over to mom’s, but we ended up covering for Georgia and Jesse,” she answers as we pass the main entrance and turn on to the highway.
“Oh, right, we caught that floater in the Duncan Canal.” My face sours. “That ruined my appetite.”
Nora manages a half hearted laugh. “Mine too, but we still have to worry about what we’re going to do this year.”
“Hmmm,” I hum and lean my seat back, relaxing against the soft leather, “I don’t think daddy’s gonna let me off the hook this year.”
“We could split up for the day, you go to your dad’s and I can go to my mom’s?” Nora suggests and I shake my head.
“Your mom won’t let me off the hook either. Daddy’s gonna want to see you.” I turn my head and crack one eye open to spy at her. She’s a damn fine thing to look at in the mid-afternoon. The fingers on her right hand drum against the top of the steering wheel.
I lean forward and turn the stereo on. “What do you want to listen to?” I ask as I pick up the CD holder resting between us on the middle console.
“She’s also going to want to see Rashad. Terry, Joanie and the kids, from what I’ve been told are coming down too.” Her eyes skirt to the holder and she shrugs, “Ladies choice.”
“Oh,” is pretty much all I can manage and select Keyshia Cole’s new album.
We’ve seen Terry and his family once more after the debacle at the dinner Nancy put together right after we came out to her. That little get together didn’t have the same amount of drama, but it wasn’t pleasant either.
Well, let’s see, me, Nora, Patrick, Chris, Reyna, Bobby, Nancy, Terry, Joanie, Josh, Brandon, Daddy, Rashad, Darius…that’s fourteen. “If we include my father, Darius and Rashad, that’s fourteen people for Thanksgiving…”
“That’s fourteen that will not be in the same place,” Nora interrupts me.
“Well, right now, it’s not in the same place, but what if we just put everyone together?” I ask. “It would save us from going to different places and really, it’s only Daddy that would be extra. I mean if your mom’s intent on seeing Rashad, which means it’ll be Darius too and maybe Meemaw, if she doesn’t take off with her church again.”
Nora’s attention splits from the road to look at me a moment and she asks, “And just where are you planning on putting all of us at? My mom’s house won’t fit that many.”
I shrug. “What if we give her the run of Daddy’s house? The kitchen’s big enough and it’ll fit everyone just fine.”
A protest forms on Nora’s lips, but she stops from voicing it and presses her lips together instead.
“Maybe it’ll keep those with an acidic tongue in check,” I suggest trying to win Nora over.
She sighs and agrees, “Maybe. We’ll run it by mama tonight and see.”
Next>>>
Fandom: Nikki & Nora
Pairing: Nikki & Nora
Rating: PG-13 to NC-17 – some parts are more risqué, some have serious language and deal with mature themes and adult concepts like violence, offensive language and naughtiness.
Disclaimer: I’m sure I’ve covered this in the previous 7 stories I’ve written in this fandom, but to cover my bases, I’ll repeat myself – Not mine. I’m playing with someone else’s toys, Nancylee Myatt's and others actually. All for fun and if money is being made off what I’m writing, someone should let me know.
Author’s Note: Another week goes by another chapter goes up. Enjoy everyone, happy belated v-day. =0)
I lean back against the maroon padded leather of the booth Nora and I are sharing with Casey and her girlfriend, Gabby.
I’m a little shocked that she has a girlfriend.
Casey has always held firm to her ‘no strings’ lifestyle.
There must be something different with this one.
My assessment of Gabby hasn’t changed.
Evil pixie about covers it.
What I do know in the hour or so since we’ve been here is that Nora’s started in on a sulk that defies logic.
Three drinks in with easy conversation and I still can’t pin down what’s troubling her.
It can’t be work. We checked out sooner than we should have, but nothing from our actives was popping. We could have stayed and watched the dust settle.
We’re also neck deep in bodies, but we needed the break.
I run a hand over Nora’s right thigh then settle on the inside of it.
"So," Casey says after setting her empty beer bottle on the lacquered table top, "You two have been working nonstop. Why did you agree to come out and not go home and sleep?"
Nora shrugs, but I offer, "Well, we figured that if we drunk enough tonight, we'd still be drunk by the time we ended up going into work and that, Casey, my dear, was the better option than going home to be annoyed that neither of us can sleep."
"Well, for the record," Casey points between the two of us, "I think both you are nuts."
"Duly noted and logged," I say before taking another healthy drink of my rum and coke. The alcohol is a little too watered down from the melted ice cubes. We’ll be due for a refill soon. I set the drink down and look curiously at the new couple.
"So, how did you two meet?" Nora drawls, earning a look from me.
"Through a mutual friend," Gabby offers.
That’s all she offers.
It's Casey that takes the reins, "You remember, Bill?" She looks at Nora than at me.
“Interesting young man,” I remember. “He seemed intent on introducing us the varying differences of skinhead subculture if I remember rightly?”
Casey nods her head.
Gabby snickers. “Bill’s good for that.”
“How is he by the way?” I ask, busying myself with trying to quietly soothe Nora between the lags in conversation.
“Good,” Casey says, “he’s been between here and Chicago the past few months. He’s in town this week though and,” she turns her attention to Gabby and asks, “Is he supposed to go back soon?”
Gabby shakes her head. “I think he’s home base for the foreseeable.”
“That’s good. So, Bill introduced you two?” Nora asks.
“Not really…” Casey ventures.
“Actually, Cas and I have known each other since I was in high school. We were acquaintances. I was working in Chicago and Bill called me up saying that he needed some friends down here and could get me a job.” Gabby shrugs. “I figured that it could be a nice change of pace and here we are.”
“And what were you doing in Chicago?” I’m curious.
“I was working at a tattoo shop as a piercer during the days and a bartender at night.” She takes a drink of the dark beer she’s been nursing since we got here. “All those types of jobs are easy to relocate with. Everyone drinks and for some reason, there’s never a shortage of people wanting to get puncture wounds,” she smirks. Her eyebrows dance.
“Tattoos I get, but piercing…” Nora trails off and shakes her head.
“I still don’t know why you have one,” I poke at her.
Nora rolls her eyes, but Casey chimes in, “Oh, come on, Nik. It’s sweet.”
Gabby rolls her eyes. “You, love, are too much of a romantic.”
“Pfft, no such thing. I understand you aren’t one to be wooed or whatever, but some girls, cough cough, like it every now and again.” Casey sticks her tongue out at her girlfriend and makes a silly face.
Gabby chuckles. “I’ll remember that.”
My hand on Nora’s thigh rubs circles, trying to get her to relax a little.
It’s Casey that picks up on what’s happening on this side of the table, “You feeling okay?” She directs the question to Nora.
Nora covers the surprise quickly and her shoulders drop a little, the muscle under my hand twitches and she lies, “Yeah,” she sighs, “just really kind of tired.”
“I get like that too,” Gabby admits. “I used to work like three jobs; I’d work from nine p.m. to seven a.m., go straight to my other job until three, go home for a few hours and then go to work from six to nine to go back to my other job. You get foggy after awhile.” The short blonde bobs her head while her thumb nail works the label free on Casey’s beer bottle. She shakes her head and asks, “What do you two do again?”
Nora holds up her gold shield and Gabby’s eyes widen.
“Cool,” she recovers quickly and Cas lays her head on the woman’s shoulder. Gabby threads their fingers together on top of the table and lays her cheek against the top of Casey’s head.
“We’ve been going nonstop for about three weeks, so really, tonight, was kind of needed,” I fill in. “In fact,” I shake my empty rock glass and decide, “I think we’re about due for another round.”
Nora raises her eyebrow and asks, “Just how exactly are you planning on getting us home?”
I giggle and hold up my phone, “Phone a friend, cher. Darius said that he could pick us up if need be.”
“How is he?” Casey asks, “His band hasn’t played in a few weeks and I miss seeing him around. The man’s hilarious.”
“He’s good. Rashad is taking up a bit more of his time, but he’s not bad at all,” Nora answers while I stand and look over the table.
“Who wants what?” I inquire as I lean against the table.
“Nothing, thanks,” Gabby and Casey say together.
Nora raises her empty glass and says, “Two more of these and while you’re there, maybe a couple shots. My liver isn’t adequately saturated.”
“Nor, you are up to big things over there,” Casey whistles.
Laughing, I saunter off to go fill the order. Weaving my way through the cluster of people to the bar. The man working it tonight is someone I’m used to, Jared, I think his name is.
He smiles at me and I think I’m wrong about his name. Oh, well, nothing a good batting of my lashes can’t cure. “Three rum and cokes, more rum than coke and four shots of the reserve tequila you hide under the counter.” I wink at him and lean forward.
He nods and as his eyes drift below my neckline.
Boys are soooo easy.
He finally realizes that I know what he’s doing and scurries off to fill the order. I look over my shoulder and see two men standing in front of our table. I watch as Casey and Gabby scoot from the booth. The shorter blonde helps Casey into her jacket and then Casey leans down to say something to Nora.
The two men and our two companions for the evening head for the door, disappearing from my line of site once they get past the dance floor.
I lean against Nora and she, in all her drunken glory leans, into me. We stumble and stagger out of Phantoms. I gave up trying to multitask. My phone goes back to my coat pocket.
My head feels okay, a little fuzzy around the edges, but Nora’s three sheets and then some to the wind.
“Ya know,” she kinda slurs, resting her head on my shoulder, “I had fun tonight.”
My heels clack against the pavement and kick little sprays of water up from the storm that just passed. “Me too, sug.”
“Good.” My girl leans up and pecks my cheek. “I’m sorry too. About how crappy things have been. I kinda think that someone, like Dveris or maybe Tosano, maybe they’re gunnin’ for the department, ya know?”
Her arm tightens around my waist when we stop in front of Frankie. Reaching around I unhook the keys from her left hip belt loop, I unlock the passenger side door and deposit her on the bench seat. As I tucker her feet in and shut the door, the wind decides to pick up, sending a sharp, icy breeze through the thin material of my top.
Shivering, I run around the front end of Frankie cursing my lack of forethought in the jacket department. Through the windshield, I see Nora lean over and pop the lock on the driver’s side. I’m grateful when she pulls the latch and the door pushes open so I can dive inside.
“I’s cold,” Nora states and snuggles in to my side. I manage to slip the key in the ignition and turn Frankie over. “And I am sorry,” she nuzzles into my neck.
Oh, jeeze.
“Things have been God awful at work. I think they are gunnin’ for us. Maybe just me and you, but the teams takin’ a beating too.” As per the standard for a drunk Nora, her hands develop a mind of their own and run around my torso to lace together around my hips.
“Nor, sug, maybe we should wait to have this conversation when you’re sober,” I suggest.
“Nope,” she shoots me down. Of course she does. Why wouldn’t she? “I like being out though.”
Eh?
“I mean, like, I don’t have to make up bullshit excuses and my mom knows, which is awesome, kinda. I wish she’d drop the marriage thing, but…” Nora stops talking as her head pops up from its place on my shoulder.
She’s grinning like a fool and I shut my eyes.
I really don’t need to hear the words that I think that she’s going to say.
The silence in the car stretches. My eyes stay shut.
Eventually, her head finds its spot on my shoulder once again and she sighs. I allow my eyes to open and rest my cheek on top of her blonde head.
“Being out is okay,” she mumbles. “What I don’t like is Gabby.”
My mouth quirks up. I lace our fingers together and let the heat from the car warm us up.
“And why not?” I take the bait and just content myself with hearing her talk.
I feel her face scrunch up and she says, “Dunno, she’s just…sometimes she’s okay, like I’m good with her and I think she’ll treat Casey right. Right? ‘Cause, I know you weren’t her biggest fan, especially with the way you found out about us, but I love her, Nik and she deserves it.”
“You love her, huh?” I poke at my girl. I’m not sure this is entirely fair to Nora, but she’s given me an opening. I’m going to exploit it.
“Yep.” Her head pops up again and I look at her. Her brows are knitted together and she’s chewing her lower lip. The glassy hue of her eyes doesn’t bode well. “Like I love Jill. Jill’s special that way. Just like my Ann. They’re all mine though. My Jill. My Ann. My Casey.”
“Hmm.” I’m not sure if I should be jealous or not. I am. Kind of.
“So, she needs to be treated right and did you call Darius?” I watch as she fishes for her phone.
Stopping her, I nod. “I told him to never mind. I’m not drunk. Buckle up, Nora. I’ll get us home.”
She shrugs and goes back to leaning on me. I lean against my door and push her against her own.
She’s already half asleep and doesn’t notice the difference between my body and her precious car’s passenger door.
I put Frankie into gear and head towards home.
It’s going to be a long night.
I navigate through a city that bustles about at all hours. Weaving in and out of traffic towards our home’s quiet neighborhood, I split my attention between Nora and task of operating a muscle car that goes from zero to ‘oh, shit’ in the time it takes to blink.
New Orleans is a favorite place to party and the tourists eat it up. I watch one group of said tourists pass the front of the car as I wait on the light to change. Once they do and it does, the arrow for the left turn on to our street lights up. I rumble down it, put Frankie in her designated spot in front of Bruce and kill the engine.
“Nora,” I lean over and shake my lover’s shoulder. “Nor, we’re home. Come on.”
“Wha?” she mumbles wiping the corner of her mouth.
“Home,” I say and point to our walkway. “Our bed is that way.”
“Oh, yeah.” Nora brightens and rights herself.
Exiting from my side, I wanted to make it over to her before she tried to make her escape, but I wasn’t quick enough. She’s already stumbling up the sidewalk. I make sure her door is locked before taking off after her and place a steadying hand at the small of her back.
We manage to make it to our door with only one incident which was actually my fault. The broken heel of my pump is clutched in my left hand as I steer Nora against the frame of the door so I can unlock it.
The house is quiet when I get us through and lock up while Nora takes the steps one at a time.
Throwing the lock and racing to catch up to my lover, I ask “You okay?” and come up behind her.
“Hmm, yeah. I just want to get to sleep.” She finds a little bit of energy and we reach the landing. Not bothering with anything else, we both strip down to our undies, bra’s get discarded with the rest of our clothing and fall into bed.
Mister hops up and settles at our feet.
“Nik,” Nora whispers as she slips up behind me, pressing her knees behind mine. One arm sneaks its way over my tummy to grab my hand. She twines our fingers together and presses them between my breasts. “You know I didn’t include you in my love list for a reason, right?” her question blows her warm, alcohol laced breath over my ear and cheek.
“No,” I manage and try to pull away, but she holds firm.
“Why would I when you’re in a league of your own,” she responds and my eyes burn and water.
Damn her.
I glance down at the Philip Stein I purchased last month as an early birthday present for myself and wonder how much longer the parole board is going to take with Nora. She’s been in their hot seat for the past half hour.
I know if it were me, I’d rather them keep Skip Vatter locked up for as long as possible. I didn’t even know Nora when she put him away. It was her and her first partner, Jerry Tombridge that closed the case. Nora filled me in on the case and on Tombridge. She hasn’t been too kind when she’s brought either of them up.
The only good things she’s said are that he retired soon after she transferred to S.C.U.
I do know that Vatter was a piece of work and took the fall for a series of assaults. Ten years later the man gets to try for parole.
I’m not entirely sure that’s fair. Two of his victims showed today. One is permanently handicapped and the other’s face is paralyzed on the left side.
The goal of prison is rehabilitation and penance. Listening to Vatter talk, he says the right words, but his tone…
It smacks of bad acting and poorly rehearsed lines.
Nora’s been trying to tell them as much. I’m not sure that they’re hearing her.
The head of the board thanks her for her time. She doesn’t look pleased.
Looking up, I see her stand and turn towards me. The suit she put on this morning was a crisp black with a royal blue silk blouse, but now, it seems to have lost its appeal. My Nora looks rumpled and tired.
I stand and follow her out of the room.
The hallway is standard institution décor. White washed walls, vinyl flooring, brown baseboards and acoustic tiles. Our heels clack as we move along, filling the silence. We round the corner to the front and a guard hits the buzzer to let us into the antechamber where we left our guns.
“You two done?” the guard, the name tag reads Conner, asks.
“For this week,” I inform her. “The two we had today and unfortunately, they couldn’t schedule our other hearing this week, so we’ll see you on Monday.”
“That’s a pisser,” the guard tries to sympathize with us, “It’s what a three hour hike, one-way?”
“Yep,” Nora confirms, securing her sidearm to her hip. “See you then.”
I wave goodbye to the officer and pick up my pace to catch up with Nora.
From my purse, I produce our sunglasses and hand hers off. Slipping them on, we head straight for Bruce and I unlock the doors right before Nora yanks the driver’s side open.
Sighing, I hop in the SUV and buckle up.
She’ll let lose in a second and I can’t help but feel a little miffed about the goings on today.
We had a decent – okay so we got her drunk, but that usually does the trick when she’s wound tighter than a girdle on a Baptist minister’s wife at an all you can eat pancake breakfast.
These damn parole hearings have shot it all to hell.
I open my mouth to say her name just as her hand comes down and smacks the top of the steering wheel. “Those stupid bastards!”
The muscles in her neck chord and she spits, “They’re going to let him out. They saw his victims. They heard me talk. I told them to watch the interrogation tapes and they’re still going to let him go.”
“I’m sorry,” is pretty much all I got. My case wasn’t so bad. My guy, Leon Florence, should get out. Ron and I busted him with a truck load of stolen goods and the guy’s served his time.
Nora’s eyes shut tight and she leans her head back trying to get a grip.
“And we gotta come back up here in three days.” Her cheeks puff out and then deflate as the air leaves her puckered lips in a disgruntled huff.
“At least we can just go home today,” I try and find some silver lining.
Nora kills the Pollyanna moment. “No we don’t. Remember I told my mom we’d be over for dinner.” Her head falls forward to thump against the steering wheel. “She wants to know what we’re doing for Thanksgiving.”
That’s actually a good question.
“What did we do last year?” I wonder, scratching my forehead.
Nora straightens up and turns the car over and heads towards the Sixty-six. The one thing about Angola is there’s only one way in which means there’s only one way out.
“Your dad gave us a bye and went to your Uncles, we were supposed to go over to mom’s, but we ended up covering for Georgia and Jesse,” she answers as we pass the main entrance and turn on to the highway.
“Oh, right, we caught that floater in the Duncan Canal.” My face sours. “That ruined my appetite.”
Nora manages a half hearted laugh. “Mine too, but we still have to worry about what we’re going to do this year.”
“Hmmm,” I hum and lean my seat back, relaxing against the soft leather, “I don’t think daddy’s gonna let me off the hook this year.”
“We could split up for the day, you go to your dad’s and I can go to my mom’s?” Nora suggests and I shake my head.
“Your mom won’t let me off the hook either. Daddy’s gonna want to see you.” I turn my head and crack one eye open to spy at her. She’s a damn fine thing to look at in the mid-afternoon. The fingers on her right hand drum against the top of the steering wheel.
I lean forward and turn the stereo on. “What do you want to listen to?” I ask as I pick up the CD holder resting between us on the middle console.
“She’s also going to want to see Rashad. Terry, Joanie and the kids, from what I’ve been told are coming down too.” Her eyes skirt to the holder and she shrugs, “Ladies choice.”
“Oh,” is pretty much all I can manage and select Keyshia Cole’s new album.
We’ve seen Terry and his family once more after the debacle at the dinner Nancy put together right after we came out to her. That little get together didn’t have the same amount of drama, but it wasn’t pleasant either.
Well, let’s see, me, Nora, Patrick, Chris, Reyna, Bobby, Nancy, Terry, Joanie, Josh, Brandon, Daddy, Rashad, Darius…that’s fourteen. “If we include my father, Darius and Rashad, that’s fourteen people for Thanksgiving…”
“That’s fourteen that will not be in the same place,” Nora interrupts me.
“Well, right now, it’s not in the same place, but what if we just put everyone together?” I ask. “It would save us from going to different places and really, it’s only Daddy that would be extra. I mean if your mom’s intent on seeing Rashad, which means it’ll be Darius too and maybe Meemaw, if she doesn’t take off with her church again.”
Nora’s attention splits from the road to look at me a moment and she asks, “And just where are you planning on putting all of us at? My mom’s house won’t fit that many.”
I shrug. “What if we give her the run of Daddy’s house? The kitchen’s big enough and it’ll fit everyone just fine.”
A protest forms on Nora’s lips, but she stops from voicing it and presses her lips together instead.
“Maybe it’ll keep those with an acidic tongue in check,” I suggest trying to win Nora over.
She sighs and agrees, “Maybe. We’ll run it by mama tonight and see.”
Next>>>
