Brian and Christine
Wendy spent the rest of the day with Brian. She was primarily concerned about his feelings, so she kept hers inside. But she was boiling with rage over the disclosure of what Saint Jane’s Home For Girls was really all about. She really wanted to destroy Mother Magda and her whole group. She thought about saying to Martinez that she would gladly do whatever she could to help him put them all away for good. He would probably refuse her help, since they had been adversaries once or twice, but it was worth a try.
Brian kept silent most of the afternoon. There were too many things wrong. He had trouble sorting them all out in his mind because his feelings kept flying through his head like predatory birds. He was drinking a cocktail of sorrow, guilt, fear, despair, anger. What have I done? he thought. How could something that wasn’t my fault turn out to be something I am guilty of? Injustice wasn’t a new topic to him. He had written about it. But it was always some one else who was the victim. But now there were a great load of victims and he and Christy were two of them. He wanted her there right now, to start a healing process. But she was gone into some secret place, and who knows when he will see her again? Even with Wendy there, he felt so desperately alone.
He turned off his computer, had some more to drink, sat by the pool but didn’t swim. Mrs. Romero had prepared a nice dinner for the two of them which Wendy enjoyed. But Brian just picked at it. Finally he had had enough to drink that he felt like passing out, so he went to bed, leaving Wendy to describe to the Romeros what had happened that day..
Brian awoke the next morning to the sound of Wendy talking on her phone to Wong. She affirmed a meeting with DA Martinez and checked up on other business. When she saw that Brian was awake she said “Gotta go….Bye” and hung up.
“How do you feel?”
“Before or after my coffee?” he said.
She slid off the bed, got dressed quickly and went to the door “Meetcha there” She said, and left the room.
Brian rose, took a shower and slowly got dressed. This was a day when he wasn’t going anywhere or doing anything except fencing with the foils of thoughts and feelings jabbing at him.
Downstairs there was a pot of coffee waiting for him and a pack of cigarettes. Mrs. Romero came in with Mr. Romero behind him. “So sorry to hear what happened with the girl” she said. “Bad place. Very bad.”
“Yes, thank you Mrs. Romero.”
“Where she is now?”
“We don’t know, but maybe we’ll find out soon.”
“Should be here.”
“Yes. Maybe. We’ll see.”
(To be continued.)