Part 16 (1/2)
”That works for me.”
I stood off to the side, not wanting to intrude upon such a touching moment. I looked from one to the other, my smile a mile wide. I could not believe Monica had just waived her fees. All that work for what? That question was answered when I saw the happiness on the young mother's face when her two year old daughter was brought to her by the bailiff. I knew from the case file, and what we'd heard in court that day, that the woman had been through enough with the father, and his family, and just needed some peace with her daughter.
”Come on.” I was yanked from my thoughts by a hand on my arm, and a voice in my ear. I looked up to see Monica standing in the elevator cage. I hurried in after her. As the doors closed, I turned to her.
”I can't believe you did that. I thought that sort of thing only happened on Matlock, or Perry Mason.” She chuckled, switching her briefcase from her left hand to her right.
”Well, sometimes you have to do what's right instead of what's popular.” She pushed the b.u.t.ton that would take us to the lobby of the courthouse, and then turned back to me. ”Tell you what, Emily, why don't you go on home, get ready, then I'll pick you up at your house in an hour, okay?” I nodded. What on earth did she have planned?
I climbed into my Jeep outside of Monica's office, and blew out a breath. I was surprisingly tired. I think it had been more of an emotionally tiring day as opposed to anything physical I did; which was next to nothing. I switched on the ignition, and smiled as Wham began to sing, ”Wake me up, before you go-go, instead of hanging me on like a yo-yo,” I sang along as I pulled out of the parking lot, and headed home, a smile on my face.
I gave my mother a brief description of the trial as she sat on my bed, watching me finish up with my hair, getting ready to go with Monica. My mother listened, and asked questions. She had been so thrilled when I'd told her where I'd be working, and what I was doing.
”There's a client that we're sort of worried about, though.” I said, as I tucked my s.h.i.+rt in, and stuck my comb in my back pocket. My mother looked at me strange.
”Honey, why are you taking a comb with you when you have enough hairspray in there to keep a small community together?” I shrugged and looked into the mirror, patting my feathered bangs down.
”I don't know. Guess it just looks cool.” I watched her reflection in the mirror as she shook her head in confusion. Parents. They never understood anything about fas.h.i.+on.
”So, tell me about the client you're worried about.”
”Oh!” I turned to face her, my face colored with excitement. ”Well, we have this client who's name is, well, actually I can't tell you that. Confidentiality.” I said, feeling rather important that I knew something my mother didn't. I was slightly irritated when I saw her try to hide a small grin. What was so funny? ”Well, anyway, so this client is trying to get their little girl away from the father who is a complete monster. Just two weeks ago he barged into the office, and threatened Monica. The man's crazy!” I turned back to the mirror as I put on my lip gloss, smacking my lips together. ”The wife is afraid of what he might do. I know Monica is really worried about it.”
”Wow. Sounds exciting.” My mother said, leaning back on her hands. I looked at her with wide eyes, and nodded.
”It is.” She smiled, and c.o.c.ked her head to the side a bit.
”Where are you going tonight, honey?”
”Monica has some sort of surprise for me. Don't know what's up.”
”Oh.' She said, looking down at her hands as she sat up, entwining her fingers together. I drew my brows together.
”Why?” I asked, grabbing my purple, Velcro wallet, and sticking it into my pocket.
”Well, It's just that it's your birthday, and you're never home lately. I know me and dad aren't as exciting as Monica, but I thought you might want to spend some time with us.” She looked up shyly at me, then looked back down to her hands. I stared at her dumbly. Not spend time with Monica? It had never even occurred to me. I sighed. Try and be diplomatic, Em.
”I'm sorry, mom.” I walked over to her and sat on the bed next to her. ”If she hadn't already made plans for us, I would stay home. Tell you what,” I put my arm around her shoulders, ”Tomorrow is Sat.u.r.day, and I don't have to work, so why don't you and me go down to the mall, and just window shop all day like we used to? We can even go into that music store, and laugh at all those crazy groups coming out.” She looked at me and grinned slightly, nodding.
”Okay.” I smiled back.
”Thanks, mom.” I gave her a quick hug when I heard the doorbell. I shot up from the mattress, nearly knocking my mother off the bed. ”She's here.” I was running out the door when my mother stopped me.
”Emmy?” I turned back to her, my hand on the door frame.
”Yeah?”
”I'm so proud of you, honey. Have a good time.” I smiled, and raced down the stairs.
I jumped into Monica's white Jeep Cherokee with a smile, and glanced over at her. My eyes were nailed to the spot.
”Wow.” I breathed. ”You look really good.” I muttered, then blushed deeply. I hadn't meant to say that out loud as I looked at her red tank top that showed off trim, well-tanned shoulders and arms. That simple silver chain still around her neck, a good contrast against her skin tone. She wore Jean shorts, and sandals. Her short, dark hair was clean and s.h.i.+ny, and combed back. She smiled.
”Thanks. So do you.” I smiled, and looked down at my own T-s.h.i.+rt and shorts. I felt like just a kid next to her graceful countenance. She backed us out of the driveway, and we were off.
”So where are we going?” I asked, reaching my arm out of the open pa.s.senger window so I could try and catch the breeze. She shook her head with a smile, her eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead of us.
”Not going to tell you. However, we do have a quick stop to make. Is that okay?” she turned briefly to me before her eyes darted back to the road.
”Fine by me.” I said calmly, but inside I was jumping for joy. Monica made me feel so important, as if what I said really mattered, and she saw me as an equal, not as some kid. I felt a smile spread across my face as I stared out into the early evening, everything turning gold as the sun went down.
”And now, a big hit for Rick Springfield, 'Jesse's Girl.'” I turned back to see that she was messing with the radio, about to change the channel.
”No, wait. I love that song.” She put her hand back on the steering wheel as the car was filled with the song about a guy who had fallen in love with his best friend's girlfriend.
We jammed to the song as we pa.s.sed through downtown, and headed toward Santa Fe Avenue, and a back road that I had never seen before. I looked around. The small building was low to the ground as if it were hiding from something, a few cars littering the dirt parking lot. Monica pulled up in front of the building, and cut the engine. Turning to me she smiled.
”This will only take a sec.” She said.
”Wait, I want to go in with you.” I said, looking through the winds.h.i.+eld at the building seeing a Budweiser sign in a window. Hmm. Must be a bar of sort. Monica's face darkened slightly.
”Uh, well, are you sure?” she asked, her voice slightly nervous. My curiosity was definitely piqued then. I nodded enthusiastically.
”Yup.”
”Okay. Come on.”
We walked toward the door of the place, a piece of wood painted black, and nearly were bowled over by someone coming out.
”Monica! Where you been, girl?” I looked up, and up to the tallest man I had ever seen, his dark skin like polished onyx. He was extremely thin with very feminine features, chiseled cheek bones, and straight, white teeth. I squinted as I stared up at him. Was he wearing eye make-up?
”Hi, Magenta!” Monica exclaimed, succ.u.mbing to the ma.s.sive bear hug. I watched on. Magenta? They parted, and the large man looked over at me.
”Who's this precious young thing?” he asked, extending a long, narrow, yet surprisingly elegant hand for me to shake. As I slowly pumped our hands up and down I noticed that he had his nails painted a deep pink. What the h.e.l.l?
”This is Emily. She's working for me for the summer.” Monica explained proudly. Magenta nodded with a bright smile.
”Well, it's sure nice to meet you, sweets.” He let go of my hand and turned back to my boss. ”Sweetheart, I'd love to chat with you, but I must be going. You need to come in some time. We miss you, girl.” He said dramatically with an affectionate pat on Monica's shoulder.
”I will. I've been so busy lately.”
”Well, catch you two cuties later.” He said with a wink, and walked past us, out into the parking lot. I glanced over my shoulder as I watched him sashay to his car, then turned back to Monica to meet amused dark eyes.
”Come on, Emily.” She chuckled, holding the door open for me. I walked ahead of her, looking around as I did. The place was dim, but obviously not open for business. As I looked at the string of lights strung around the ceiling and support poles, my guess was that the place was only lit by those tiny lights, and probably on the dark side. Small round tables were everywhere, chairs stacked neatly on top, a hardwood dance floor in the center of the largish room. The long bar was to the left, and back toward the back of the room. Two women were sitting at bar stools talking to the bartender. Other than that, the place was empty.
I moved to the side, allowing Monica to walk past me as I had no clue where we were going, and why we were there. The two women, and male bar tender looked over in our direction, one of the women standing, but not walking toward us. Her eyes were on Monica, only briefly darting to me. She was a short woman, not much taller than me, with short blonde hair tucked under a cowboy hat. She wore tight-fitting Wranglers, and black boots. Her western-style s.h.i.+rt was half unb.u.t.toned, revealing some of her cleavage. My eyes bulged slightly when I saw that, and quickly found the juke box in the back incredibly interesting.
”Hey, Mon.” she said, her voice low and smoky.
”Hi, Lee. Thanks for meeting me.” They embraced, then stepped back from each other. I moved away a couple steps, not wanting to eavesdrop. I looked around, walking out to the dance floor, and turning in a small circle. I had never been in a bar before. It wasn't so bad, granted it was closed at the time. I saw the bathrooms at the back, near the pool table. A large picture of James Dean was on the men's, and a picture of Marilyn Monroe was on the women's. Hmm. Kind of cool, I supposed. I looked past those to see more liquor signs, mostly different beers, and saw a giant upside down pink triangle on one of the mirrors. I drew my brows, and walked a little closer. I thought it a bit strange, having no clue what that was supposed to mean. Shrugging, I turned back toward the bar. Monica was sitting with the other three, talking to the bar tender, and laughing. I decided to see what the joke was.