Rating: PG

Summary: A weird encounter-sort of. And other weird encounters.

Spoilers: Nah.
 

"What the fuck is your problem?" I'm wondering what the hell's going on that's got Langly pushing me in the other direction.

And the dude looks scared. The nails are on their way up to his mouth.

He whispers harshly. "If you wanna really know, Junior, there's somebody there I don't wanna see. And you don't wanna see him, either."

"Did we beat him at pool and not pay him or something?"

"Wish it was just that. C'mere."

We duck inside a tavern. It occurs to me I could use a drink right now. Maybe a few.

"You see that guy over there?"

"Where?"

"About a hundred yards out. Near the antique store there."

"Yeah. What about him?" Just a guy in a long coat and suit and smoking a cigarette. Looks like about half the population in this city.

"Well, let's just say he's not our friend."

"What, you owe him money?"

"Not funny, Junior. Let's just say...he knows where we live. And a nice guy he's not."

It occurs to me, in the middle of this godawful day, that something amazing has happened.

I can go inside a warm building and not have my eyes fog up. I could see things that were far away.

You think of the weirdest things sometimes.
 

Langly asks me if I want a beer, and I tell him, yeah. He says one only, since I'm driving.

True. And I have a passenger.

A very special one.

"Don't you have to go back?" I ask him.

"Told Sheridan I had some business to take care of. Sheridan's cool. Besides, I get my work done. That's all he really cares about. And besides, after this, I think I need to go home and talk to my wife."

"She's gonna go out and talk to Kelly's mother."

"WHAT?! Oh Jesus fuck." He takes a long drink of beer. "What if that asshole is there? Oh, Ally, don't you ever use that brain of yours?" He's shaking his head furiously. "Y'know, one of the things I love about her is that she'll drop everything if you got a problem. One of the things that drives me crazy about her is, she'll drop everything if you got a problem." He takes another drink. "I hope she calls Byers or your dad or something. I don't want her going there alone."

"She's not stupid, Langly."

"She's not. But she forgets sometimes to think something all the way through. I think that's one of the reasons I gave her so much shit about going to grad school. I mean, it's cool and all that she wants to do this stuff. But grad school sucks big time most of the time. I wanted her to think about that."

And you don't like it that it takes time away from you, Blonde Boy.

But I don't say that.

"So where's Kelly gonna stay? I mean, she can't go back home. That's not gonna work."

"I think she's staying at your house for now. I mean, I don't know. Ally says she could stay tonight." Actually, I bet Ally told her she could stay as long as she wanted.

"I love this. Your woman gets attacked by some critter, your dad doesn't even wake you up. My wife takes this girl in, she doesn't even tell me what's up. Are we just mushrooms, Junior?"

"Why you say that?"

"Because everyone keeps us in the dark and feeds us bullshit."

For the first time today, I laugh.
 

I could've used, oh, maybe another six or seven beers, but Langly pays for one for each of us and hustles us on out.

It's almost 5. By the time I get crosstown and find a parking place, it'll be time to pick up Kelly.

Langly says he's gonna get a few things from his desk and he'll see me back at his house.

I'm about to bail when he calls after me. He's just a few feet away.

"Hey Junior."

"Yeah."

"You can come visit again, y'know."

There's some weird comfort in knowing that.
 

ALLY:

This has been one of the more unappetizing afternoons of my life.

Byers and I trucked out to Warrenton to see Kelly's mother.

Hard to remember when somebody impressed me less positively than Betsy Martin.

We found her at work and said we needed to talk to her. She immediately became suspicious-okay, that's understandable. We tell her it's about Kelly, and she starts getting really hostile.

She does not want to talk to us. She does want to know where the hell her daughter went last night.

I tell her she was at my place, and I tell her why.

I think Betsy Martin is drunk when I first meet her, and her reaction more or less confirms this.

She says her daughter is lying. That Troy does have a mean temper, and they did have a spat, as she calls it, but no way would Troy ever hurt her girl.

Byers tells her that St. Theresa's Hospital says otherwise.

Betsy's response is that "Kelly don't like no men I ever get. She's tryin' to get him out so she don't have to talk to him."

The words are slurred.

On first glance, this woman looks young. She's small and even blonder than her daughter. But a few minutes up close and personal change this impression.

"Does Kelly lie to you consistently?" I inquire of her.

"Huh?"

"Does she lie to you a lot?" Byers simplifies the wording for this woman.

"No, Kelly ain't no liar. But she don't like no men I ever get. I think she don't like men, period."

"I don't think that's true. By the way, have you seen Troy today?"

"No. But that don't mean nothin'."

"For your information, Troy's in jail. He didn't call you?"

"What? I can't post no bond for him! And you're lyin'! I bet you anything you're just tryin' to get my girl away from me, thinkin' I'm not good 'nuf for the likes of her! You people with all your fancy de-grees and shit, you come 'round here, you try puttin' ideas in her head, you try makin' her turn on her own people-"

"Mrs. Martin. The fact is, Kelly's been sexually assaulted." The calm, modulated voice of Byers interrupts the whiskey harshness of this illiterate woman's rant. "She's also 18 years old, and the Commonwealth of Virginia recognizes her as an adult. We can't hold her anywhere against her will. And we won't. We do, however, don't feel that she is safe at this point.
If she wishes to contact you, nobody will keep her from doing that."

"Then why ain't she here?"

"She's at work." My contribution. I'm trying to emulate Byers's calm.

"Yeah, you take her away from here, and I need her!"

"Mrs. Martin. We're not taking her away from you. But we will keep her safe, if need be. But the choice is hers. We'll have her call you. In the meantime, we need to get some of her clothes and her books."

Now she's really upset. "Ain't no way're you goin' through my house!"

Byers holds up a palm in a gesture of nonagression. "We don't want to go through your home, Mrs. Martin. We simply need some of her things. That's all. We'll be happy to let you get them for her."

She's crying now. "If Kelly wants her stuff, she can come get it herself! Now get out of here. You ain't welcome here, and I don't wanna be seein' you back here."

I ache for this woman. She's a mother, losing a beloved daughter.

But I feel no pity for her. She's losing her daughter through her own poor judgment and neglect. She puts her own desires ahead of her own child's safety.

I can't forgive that.

No mother is perfect. I most assuredly am not.

But I have tried very hard to do right by my daughter.

This woman has left me unconvinced that she's made a similar effort.
 

Byers and I are quiet on the way back. I'm shaken by what I've witnessed.

"She's pathetic," I say to him.

He just nods. "We need to get her things for her. Of course, we need to speak with Kelly, feel her out, offer her alternatives. I do feel strongly that she should not go back there. I think her safety would be compromised. The boyfriend will be out of jail at some point. And he's likely to be angry. I think we need to emphasize this to her."

My turn to nod.

"So what do we do about her clothes and schoolbooks?"

Byers turns slowly towards me, smiling ever so slightly. There's a mildly fiendish look in those bright blue eyes.

"A minor problem."

I'm glad somebody thinks so.

Then again, I never was the queen of funky poaching.
 

MICHAEL:

I'm waiting for Kelly to come out of work.

So I'm sort of surprised when this little dark-haired lady comes out instead of Kelly, and it's not even six yet.

"Are you waiting for Kelly Martin?" She's got this real soft accent.

"Yeah." I'd like to know who I'm talking to first.

"I'm Dr. Shalad." She extends a hand that's even tinier than Ally's, if that's possible. But she's got good nails; Ally chews hers up. "And you are?"

"Michael."

"Michael. What's your last name?"

I don't like being given the third degree, but she is Bergman's wife, and I bet they talk about people at night.

"Frohike."

"Ah, all right. Daryl told me about you. You were the boy with pneumonia, weren't you?"

Probably one of about a thousand, but since she hired Kelly, maybe he gave her more info about me.

I'm not sure I like that.

"Yeah."

"Michael, I don't like to be so presumptuous, but would it be possible for us to talk for a few minutes? Kelly's in the lab with one of my grad assistants. I'd like to find out what happened to her a little bit. She keeps telling me she's fine, but I think it's obvious that something's wrong. I'm not asking you to break confidence with her, but I noticed that she's very bruised, so it's not as if that's going to be much of a secret. And I'm not asking for the circumstances. I just want to know if she was assaulted."

"Yeah, she was."

"Do you know if it was beyond what's visible?"

"Uh-maybe you oughta ask her that." I don't feel right talking about this. I mean, she's probably worried and all, and her intentions are good, but I think it's wrong for me to tell about what happened to Kelly.

I know how I'd feel if she did it to me. I'd be pissed.

"Sorry. I don't feel right talking about her that way."

She just nods. "I understand. Would you be willing to wait a little longer? I do want to talk to her before she leaves, and it's mostly going to be work-related, but I do feel some responsibility as a physician to know what occurred. How are you doing?"

Me?

"Uh-okay, I guess." Not really. But I don't know her, and she's a lot pushier than her husband, who is like the king of mellow.

"Well, just remember, if you need information, or you want to talk about anything, you know that Daryl and I are both available. It's nice meeting you." She vanishes back into her inner sanctum.

Well, she is a nice looking babe. She's obviously born elsewhere, but I don't place accents all that well. And Kelly'll probably like working with her.

This has to work out for her. She's had enough bad stuff go down already. I want something good for her.

So I wait. And wait some more.
 

It's like going on seven when Kelly finally comes out, and she looks like shit. I mean, she's not ugly, but she looks like she's been crying again.

I'm going to kill Dr. Shalad if she made Kelly cry. I don't care if she is Bergman's wife.

"You okay?" I rush over to her and put my arms around her. She doesn't hug me back, but she doesn't push me off, either.

"Yeah. I'm okay. Let's go. They're about to close up here."

"So how'd it go?" I ask her.

"Huh? Oh. You mean the work. I think I can do it. There's a lot I have to learn, but she's got two assistants and they'll teach me." I sort of thought she'd sound more excited.

"When do you work again?"

"Friday. Same time."

She doesn't feel like talking.

"How's Dr. Shalad?"

"She seems fine. Better than working with my mom and my uncle."

She looks so tired.

"We're going back to Chateau Langly," I tell her. "Ally says you can stay, didn't she?"

"Yeah. But I don't have any of my stuff. I've gotta get my stuff soon. And I gotta talk to my mom. I hope she's okay."

"Ally went to go see her today. Maybe she got your stuff."

"She said she was going."   Kelly sounds like she doesn't care one way or another about this. "I just hope my mom's okay. I feel really bad for ditching her like that-"

WHAT?!

"YOU feel bad for ditching HER?! I'm sorry, Kel, but she ditched YOU!"

Uh-oh. Wrong thing to say. She looks like I slapped her.

"She just did what she had to do to get away from Troy. I tried to help her-"

"Hey, I hear you say one more time you feel bad about not helping her, I'm gonna be PISSED!" I don't even believe this is me saying it, but you know what? I've had a long day, too.

And she's got no reason to feel like this.

What kind of asshole am I, yelling at her this way?

I figure I'm gonna make her cry, but she just gives me this real hard look. It's not sweet.

Now I feel like I'm gonna cry. Fuck.
 

ALLY:

I'm a bit surprised to see Langly so early, but relieved as well, as I haven't informed him of the latest in a series of crises that seem to periodically crop up in our lives.

"Hey," I call out to him as he walks in.

Instead of the usual kiss and friendly greeting, I'm faced with an arms over the chest, rather hostile posture. "So when were you thinking about telling me about this?"

"Telling you about what?" I'm not playing stupid here; I'm truly baffled.

"About what happened to Kelly."

Shit, the grapevine gets more and more efficient.

"I was going to tell you when you got home-figured it would work better than trying to catch you on the fly as you were playing beat the clock this morning."

"I think it was important enough you could've told me."

"Look, I'm not arguing the point. And how'd you find out?"

"Had a visitor today."

"Who?" I was with Byers and Frohike most of the afternoon. I know it wasn't them.

"Junior came by."

"Michael came by work?"

"Yeah, he did."

"Not even in the same area as Georgetown."

"Yeah, well, seems that Junior and me, we got a lot of the impact from this, and nobody bothers to tell us what the fuck is going on!"

He's definitely annoyed.

"I mean, what's the deal, Ally? I'm not saying Kelly can't be here, I mean she sure as hell can't go back home, but this is both our house, don't you think you could at least keep me informed as to what the hell is going on?"

We're up to really irritated now.

I hand him a beer, and he takes it but doesn't open it right away.

"I mean, what is with you and Fro? Kelly turns up at their place last night, Frohike doesn't even wake up the one person Kelly probably came to see! And then you get all wrapped up in this, and you don't even leave me a fucking voice mail!"

"You don't pick up your voice mail half the time," I rebuke him, and it's true. He's notoriously bad about it.

"Yeah, but you coulda left me one, anyway!"

"Look, I wanted to discuss it with you when you weren't half asleep, weren't hung over, and weren't trying to set new land speed records getting out the door!" Now I'm getting irritated.

"Yeah, well, you mind telling me now? I suppose no time like the present!"

"Well, I was planning to, if you'd quit bitching at me for half a minute!"

"So do we get an occupant in the spare bedroom?"

"I think so. Look, if you have a better idea, I'm listening."

"I dunno. I mean, she's gotta stay somewhere not at home, but man, I mean, we just unloaded Shelby, and that kid's still here seems like at least half the time!" This is true-Shelby's presence has hardly become less noticeable; she just stays here fewer nights.

"Look, Langly, I'm just trying to do the right thing, okay? I'm sorry if you don't approve of my planning process all the time-"

"Or lack thereof!"

"I'll let that one go right now. But if you've got another idea, I'd like to hear it!"

He pops the top of the beer, takes a long swig. He's thinking.

"Frohike still here?"

"Out back." I flick my thumb towards the offices.

"I think he and me need to have a little chat." He picks up the beer and stalks out.

It's going to be another wonderful evening. I can't wait.

And Michael and Kelly walk through the kitchen door at that moment.

END OF PART 41