The Mourning Mail (final release candidate #8)

Chapter 15

The crowd was building at the Born and Raised Steakhouse. Those working from offices in the surrounding businesses were filtering in on their lunch breaks. Marci beat me there and took a table in the back. As I joined her, I couldn't help but notice she had a new emerald ring. The way she was displaying her hand made it hard to miss.

"Oh, Marci, I see you've been holding out on me... care to share?" I asked with a quick laugh as I sat down, taking the extended fingers of her right hand into mine to admire the stone.

"I thought you'd never ask!" Marci replied with an affected high-society inflection in her voice.

We both laughed, and I asked, "Nice stone! So, who is the new love interest in your life? Or is the rock on your finger something you saw in a store window that you couldn't resist?"

"I've kept it a secret until now, but I met Danny at AA. I'd seen him at several meetings—he'd just gotten his five-year recovery medallion. Four months ago, we left a meeting at the same time and played a round of 'whose Uber is it, anyway?' He asked me to go out for coffee, and things took off from there."

"I can tell you are happier than I've seen you in quite a while," I said, truly glad she had good things going on in her life. "Okay, out with the goods—what's he like?"

"He's a lieutenant at the Balboa Park fire station. He has a nice little place not too far off the beach. His sister dates my cousin, and we learned we have much in common. We've had some pretty deep conversations, some of them difficult. He's good at accepting me as I am, warts and all. So, he surprised the heck out of me last Wednesday when he popped up with this. He calls it a friendship ring, but I think it's a little more than that for both of us. Day by day, right? We'll enjoy the journey until we get to the destination, whatever it is."

"I am so happy for you," I said, "and it's good you found someone who feels right."

"What's going on in your romantic life?" Marci asked. "Not to be nosey, but Ray Costello in Major Case has a thing for you. If I don't ask, he's going to keep bugging me."

"We saw each other at the Warnake crime scene—I guess it was three months ago?—and I thought he was acting pretty friendly to be working a homicide," I said with a snicker. "He's a nice enough guy, but I don't think having a cop in the family would work too well for my career. No offense intended."

"None taken—any other prospects I should know about?" she said, batting her eyelashes.

"No, I've not been in the mood since Dad died," I said. "In college, I had a great relationship with an ROTC cadet, Paul Castro. Before the Navy commissioned him as an officer and he had to use his given name, everyone knew him as 'PJ.' Gotta love a man in uniform, and I did. My first experience with anything real. It was one of those things where it sneaks up on you. You don't realize how great it was until worse things come along. I still think about him now and then..."

"What broke the two of you up?" Marci asked.

"PJ had to serve out his Navy obligations," I answered. "Ended up in Annapolis, and I graduated and got a good job here. You know how it goes—you promise to keep in touch, but..."

"That was it? Nobody else came along?" Marci asked.

"When Mom got sick, I was thirty-one and feeling that biological clock ticking. The relationship I was in was horrible, but I talked myself into making do. I'm ashamed I didn't leave the first time he hit me. But the second time did the trick."

"Having been through that myself, I'm sorry it happened to you," Marci said, the smile leaving her face.

"Dad would never admit it," I said, "but he had some muscular men from one of his construction crews visit the guy afterward. Once my ex left the hospital, we never heard from him again. Two years of my life wasted – I just wasn't prepared for the depression and feelings of complete worthlessness that followed. People like that plant things in your head and you don't know realize how much of it takes root. I soured on relationships for a while after I got some semblance of myself back."

"I can sympathize," Marci replied, her head slowly nodding.

"I've never shared any of that with you because compared to all the challenges you've had to overcome, mine were so trivial. I was surrounded by people who loved me. They'd seen the situation unfold right before them, and could see the changes in me even as I refused to acknowledge them."

"That last part is so important," Marci said. "I didn't have it, and I spiraled down a lot further than I would have. My friendships and relationships mean so much to me now because of that."

"I've never said this to anyone," I replied, "and I hate to admit I'm so selfish, but that terrified me when I learned I was going to lose Dad. Not having someone who loved me and would be my anchor when things were getting to me. But I'm not the same person I was ten years ago.

"No one could compete doing what I do unless they're willing to seek out the ugly in the world and go after it. Even so, I don't know if anyone but you would understand how hard I work to keep the bad from getting to the 'me' inside. Sometimes people I don't know see the façade I put up to deal with my work, and accuse me of being naïve or idealistic. When that happens, in my mind I hear, 'Good job, kid, you've held off becoming a cynical burnout for one more day.' It's something I discuss with my mirror every morning before I take on the world again."

"I've not heard it put that way, but yeah, it fits perfectly...," Marci said, and then took a moment to reflect.

"Ever think about looking your Mr. Castro up again?"

"Now and then, yes, but never have followed up," I answered, and a warm memory came to mind. "You know, PJ never lost his cool. We got a puppy, a little poodle, from the shelter. We loved her so much. I kept her when he left, had her until last year when I had to put her down.

"But when we got her, we didn't think about having to pay a pet deposit. One day we came home, and the landlord was in the bedroom of our little apartment. He was bent over next to the bed, whacking underneath it as hard as he could with a broomstick at the poodle. She was whimpering and scared to death, trying to hide. PJ's expression turned as hard as I'd ever seen, and I truly thought he was going to kill the guy."

"Oh, God, what did he do to the landlord?" Marci asked, her eyes wide.

"I didn't learn how angry he really was until he told me later when we were alone," I said. "But at that moment, PJ just stood there. He listened with a clenched jaw to that landlord. He was bitching about the dog disturbing the neighbors with her whining whenever we were out. Didn't move a muscle when the man made a stink about us not paying that damned deposit. PJ just promised we'd keep the puppy quiet and wrote the man a check. It might have seemed like no big deal to people who didn't know him and the situation. But I learned so much about PJ that day. An officer and a gentleman to the core. Much better than me. I'm no fighter, but I wanted to kick the guy in his fat ass when he was bent over."

"PJ's the one who got away...," Marci said.

"Yup. But hope springs eternal," I said. "I interviewed a man named Sven Nielssen for the Fat Leonard case. He imports fine wines and liqueurs. Tall, blonde, Swiss, gorgeous hair, built like a wrestler - hubba, hubba! Sadly, he's married. But if that guy had a brother, and he was available, I'd be back on the market in a heartbeat," I said with an over-the-top wink.

"I hope that works out for you, Debra Ann; I truly do. But this is a family restaurant—anything more would be too much information," Marci said with a smirk before intentionally changing the subject. "I meant to call you so we could meet up and I could show you the ring. But you called me first. So, what is on your mind?"

Our server appeared before I could answer, and we ordered. Marci knew, of course, about Dad's passing. She'd been a stalwart friend to me as I'd worked through the initial anger, frustration, and, finally, acceptance. But I hadn't told her yet about the trust or anything that happened after Dad's estate had settled. I opened up about some of my struggles in the years between quitting the paper and Dad providing for me in his will. I shared a little of the emotional roller coaster I'd been on the past few weeks.

"Butthe good part is that I'm paying for your lunch now that I'm a trust fund baby.I practiced saying 'trust fund baby' over and over in the mirror—it makes mefeel so... young!" I said with a laugh.