Classification: TRHA

Rating: PG-13 for large quantities of alcohol, smoking, cursing.

Summary: More girl talk. More drinks. Hangovers. Kids turning up in bad neighborhoods.

Spoilers: Nope.

Disclaimer: They belong to 1013 Productions and Fox Television, but we're not ready to give them back.
 

"My child, what odd complaints you let escape you."

Homer, "The Odyssey," Fitzgerald Translation, Book 5, Line 24. Used without permission.
 

Cor Ad Cor Loquitur
 

October 25, 1999

"So where're Dave and the kiddies on this retreat?" I asked her when we reseated ourselves on the sofa. We were drunk as skunks and loving it.

"It's Cub Scouts. It's one of the nice things about Dave only being the assistant rabbi. He can actually deal with the kids."

"They should be having fun."

"I'm sure they are. Y'know, Al, I love them dearly, but sometimes, they're just too much to take. You know that Alex is learning disabled, don't you?"

"No, I didn't. I always thought he was just energetic."

"He's got ADD. It's tough. And to tell the truth, I'd rather sometimes be out there chasing psychos and dealing with weird diseases and unnatural events than dealing with my own son, because it's easier."

"Nothing wrong with admitting that, El. It is tough to have a kid with a disability."

"Dave never seems fazed by it. Me, I go insane after a few hours. I adore him-he really is a sweetie, Alex is-but I have a hard time dealing with him."

"How about Steve?" Steve was her older son.

"Steve, he's just, he's superserious, good student, good older brother, good son-Al, he's so perfect, he scares me. I just worry that when he gets older, he's gonna totally lose it and go nuts. And it's not like I'm doing a lot to keep it from happening."

"Yeah, but you're probably not doing a lot to make it happen."

"Ha! I think just the way we live could make any child nuts."

"Maybe we don't give our kids enough credit for their strength. Seems to me they're a lot tougher than we realize. I mean, they're kind of built for survival."

"Yeah, maybe. It just seems...Al, do you ever feel like there's something you should be giving Miranda, and you don't know what it is, you just know you're not doing it?"

"Well, hell, all the time. I think it's called mothering." We both cracked up.

"Speaking of mothering, I think Dana's gonna do a terrific job," she claimed.

"I'd have to go with that. They really wanted this child so much. I just hope her problems abate." Rebecca Mulder was having a number of physical problems, mostly with breathing. She seemed to be progressing, but very slowly.

"If any kid has a chance, it's Becca. I went to see them yesterday." Although Dana had long since been released from the hospital, it was as if neither parent ever went home. They may as well have taken up residency there.

"I saw them earlier this week. I sent e-mail last night. Just haven't had as much time as I'd like."

"Well, you've watched them in action, right?"

"I have. It's amazing."

"I swear, Al, it's like Mulder can just breathe life into that kid just by holding her. He'll sit there for hours, with his shirt unbuttoned, just holding her against him and singing to her and looking like if she needed him to sit there and not move for a month, he'd do it, happily. And even though she's still weak for nursing, Dana does the whole breast-pumping thing religiously, and she keeps putting her on the breast, and sooner or later, that baby's going to latch on and suckle. This baby is their life now, Al. That's why I think what I do."

"Maybe you're right. It's just that they're such consummate workaholics."

"The bigger they are, the harder they fall. I think they're the sort of people that whatever they've got in their lives, they're going to do it full force, including care for their daughter. Makes parents like us look bad, doesn't it?" She grinned ruefully.

"I just can't be that...obsessed with anything. I don't have the temperament."

"And I'm obsessed with everything. Sculder, now, that's focus for you. It's part of what makes them so good at whatever they do."

"Rebecca Mulder is one lucky baby. Of course, by the time she gets to be a teenager, she may start feeling a bit suffocated if they keep this up."

"True, true. I guess our kids can't complain that we suffocate them. For mine, it's more like benign neglect."

"Hey, I think kids should have their own lives. If that's benign neglect, then so be it. We do the best we can, El. I'm trying, God knows. And I fall short all the time. I think we all do. But we're working on it. That, to me, is what counts."

"Al, you do have a way of making everyone around you feel better. Trust me, it's a gift." She raised her glass. "Here's to friends who make it bearable."

"Shalom," I clinked with her, and we drank up. "Anyway, how's Mark holding up? You said he's been in rough shape since his wife bailed on him."

"Yep. Took the baby back to Boston with her. She's served him already. Catholic or not, she wants out."

"You met her?"

"Once. Not much personality there."

"It's not like Mark is the life of the party exactly."

"No, but Mark's basically a nice guy, he's a good agent, and right now, he's not quite up to snuff. Makes it hard for all of us. I mean, I feel sorry for him, but we are so damn backlogged, and -now this is the kicker, Al. You're gonna love this. Fowley is gunning for him."

"I thought she was hot to bed the ex-husband."

"I think she looked around and saw that the ex-husband was a lot less available than she'd hoped, and decided to settle on what's there and willing and able. Or maybe she thinks she can make him jealous this way. If she thinks that, she's stupider than I think."

"She can't be a total idiot, El."

"She isn't stupid. Not by a long shot. But I think she never got over the ex."

"Frohike tells me that she was the dumper and he the dumpee."

"Yeah, but you know, you don't know what you got till it's gone? I think we have a serious case of seller's remorse here. Anyway, it's disgusting. She's been purring around Mark, trying to get him to go out with her, asking if he wants to join her for a drink...the three of them are on a road trip this weekend. And I don't think she pays much attention to the rules regarding fraternization with fellow agents. Ten bucks says she'll get him in bed before they fly home."

"You're on. Only because I don't want to lose ten bucks. Mark doesn't seem the type for casual stuff."

"Yes, but honey, he's got the Y chromosome, and we all know what kind of damage that can wreak." We giggled. "Means, motive, opportunity. What you need for a successful crime. And she's got all three."

"So what're you gonna do if they do the deed?"

"Me? Nothing. I'm not in any official capacity to reprimand them right now, and you can be sure Mulder's gonna keep quiet about it. I'll just have to take my Maalox and try not to gag." We laughed. "You know what it is, Al?" She had turned serious again. "There's just something about this woman that doesn't feel...clean."

"Well, sounds like she's had her share of amours."

"Not in that way. It's as if...I don't trust her. I trust Mark. I even trust Jeffrey now. From the point of view of Jeff and I working together, Mulder's getting out of the office was the best thing that ever happened to us. There's a lot of tension between them that I can't put my finger on, and since Dana's been in the hospital, we've gotten closer and we work better. That tension was spilling over into his and my working relationship, and with Mulder on leave, it's evaporated. I'm not sure why. But Jeff's a humper. He's done probably more work for Lydia's case than the three of us put together. He's a good agent. And he feels clean. Fowley doesn't."

"You think she was-I don't know, Langly has this theory..."

"I've heard all about your boy's theories. What's this one?"

"Langly thinks she was forced in by people who are sitting on Skinner."

"Never know. It can happen. Congressional favors, whatever. All I know is, I've gotten pretty territorial about my department, and I don't want her there. Remind me to be more careful about what I wish for."

"Where's the road trip?"

"Utah. Now that's rich. Mormon country." She giggled.

"Were you supposed to go?"

"I persuaded Skinner that the three of them were more than capable, and I had a commitment this weekend." She giggled more; we were both liquored to the point of seeing double, and our restraint was low. "And I hate the Utah desert. No booze." We both howled.

"Not one of our problems tonight, that's for sure."

"Amen to that. Hey Al, isn't your phone ringing?"

"Is it? Maybe it's the girls."

"They're downstairs."

"Miranda's got her own phone down there, and if she doesn't feel like coming upstairs, she'll call. Life is rough." I stumbled over to the cordless cradle, and the phone wasn't in it.

"Is this it?" Ellen retrieved a black plastic device from the sofa cushions. She pressed the talk button. "Hello, Ally and Langly's house." She passed the phone to me. "It's for you. I think it's loverboy," she caroled drunkenly.

"Hey."

"Hey, I was thinking the house had been destroyed, it took you twelve rings to pick up. What's going on?"

"Just Ellen and I sitting here getting wasted."

"Sounds like fun."

"So where are you?"

"Somewhere in fucking New Jersey. God, I hate this state."

"So why'd you go?"

"Things to do. And I don't think I can hear the kids from here."

"Anything interesting?"

"If you call waiting for some kid to return to his apartment interesting, sitting on the street and drinking bad coffee and playing go fish interesting, then it's interesting."

"Waiting for anybody in particular?"

"None other than Michael Frohike."

"Oh, Jesus. He decided to look for him."

"Well, we know where he is. It's just a matter of him getting his sorry ass back to where he lives. Frohike finally decided he'd do it."

"No wonder he's been so nervous lately. And here I figured it was Rebecca."

"Re-oh, you mean the Mulderette. Yeah. No, he decided it was time."

"How's he doing?"

"He's scaring me half to death. I swear he's gonna have heart failure. Keeps hyperventilating."

"Get him a beer."

"Tried to. He wouldn't."

"Sounds like fun. How's John?"

"Byers? Byers is cool. I'm up five games of go fish with him."

"What an accomplishment. I've never seen you beat him at cards, babe."

"Well, I'm hot tonight."

"Where are you calling from?"

"7-11. At least this kid had the decency to live across from one."

"Oh thank heaven..."

"Anyway, we'll see how this gig goes. I'm gonna go back and kick Byers' ass again I guess."

"Planning to be back Sunday still?"

"Hey, I've become respectable. Gotta go to work on Monday."

"Babe, you may have to go to work on Monday, but you will never be respectable."

"Thank you."

"Anytime. Be careful, babe. I prefer you in one piece."

"Miss ya, Ally. See ya later."

"Miss you too, sweetheart."

"Love ya." He clicked off. I set the phone back down.

"So how's loverboy?" Ellen slurred to me.

"Hanging. They're up in Jersey, trying to meet up with Frohike's son, whom he hasn't seen in years."

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Glad I'm not there. Those sorts of reunions aren't usually pretty."

"I imagine they're difficult."

"Sometimes they're lethal. One of my first cases when I was on the beat was one of those reunions that went bad." She looked really sad now. "I hate this shit, Al. I love my work, but I hate the shit that goes with it. I don't want to see any more kids getting killed or injured or sick, I don't to come and bust kids who should be out playing soccer, not playing with guns..."

"So you do it and hope you can stop it."

"Yeah, I do. Dave tries to prevent it. Me, I mostly clean up when it's too late."

"El, it's not always too late and you know it."

"Yeah, but I feel like feeling sorry for myself right now, and nobody will deprive me of it." I glanced over at her. She'd pulled the barrette from her hair and her mass of curls was falling wildly over her face. Her suit jacket was long gone, her shoes were history, and her silk shirt was hanging tails out over her skirt with the top button undone. She hadn't lost her
hose yet, but they were full of runs, one more pair for the rag pile. She looked a lot less like the consummate professional FBI agent she was and a lot more like a woman whose eyes had seen too much. She was looking every one of her 37 years and then some. I knew she was incredibly resilient, but perhaps it was therapeutic for her to be maudlin sometimes. If that's what she needed, then that's what she could have.

She began pacing, albeit unsteadily. She was a big woman, but she'd had a lot to drink.

"Al, I'm not trying to be premature about this, and I'm not trying to get you upset or anything...I just don't know that I share Mulder's conviction that Lydia is still alive."

"He thinks she is." I was mildly surprised.

"He's certain of it. I wish I shared his faith."

"I wish I did, too. Maybe this isn't something you can talk about, but didn't Dana...disappear for about three months a few years back?"

"Been using that as a primary resource. Unfortunately, I don't think the two cases are linked, at least not directly. None of the evidence would indicate it."

"But Dana came back okay."

"No, she didn't, Al. She almost died. She developed cancer of the brain and sinus passages, and I think only a miracle saved her. It's a bit unclear in the records exactly what it was that happened..."

"Wow. And then she ends up somewhere at the South Pole, and when she gets back, she's deaf a few weeks later. Woman's had some hard luck."

"They both have. And that's another reason why I don't think we'll be seeing them around the office much. They've had such a run of horrible luck that I think now that they've had something that's good, they're going to hold on to it and not let go." Ellen looked utterly depressed now. Her professional bearing was gone, and all she looked was scared, vulnerable, and drunk. And a fashion victim to boot. She staggered back to the sofa, where I was smoking another Marlboro Light. "Give me another one, would you?"

"Just don't burn down the house." I handed her the pack and lighter. She could barely fish one out, she was so smashed. "Did you bring any extra clothes?"

"Nope, didn't figure I'd be this wasted." She was finally able to work the lighter, to my amusement.

"Well, I think some of Langly's stuff might fit you. You're sure as hell not driving tonight."

"Probably not be a good idea. Thanks, Al. I appreciate all this."

"No problem. I'm glad we could finally get together. Let me go dig something up for you." I made my way into Langly's and my room with some difficulty, and located amidst the mess that passed for our closet a pair of sweatpants that belonged to him-old but soft and clean. I found his old Truncheon Scars T-shirt and took that with me to Ellen.

"Hope you're not averse to fringe bands, because that's pretty much what Langly's got. 'Less you want to try and fit into mine."

She laughed. "No offense, girlfriend, but it'd be totally stretched out for good." She yawned. "I think I've had enough tequila here. How about some coffee?"

"You're not tired?"

"Al, you're joking, right? We're really gonna sleep with that racket going on downstairs?"

"Oh, yeah." I hadn't paid attention, and only when she called me on it did I notice the air was replete with giggles and shrieks. Being oblivious to everything has its advantages.

I went and got out of my long skirt and sweater and henley, put on a pair of shorts, my slippers with the cat heads, and Langly's Ramones T-shirt. I started up the coffeemaker and Ellen emerged a few minutes later. She looked more comfy now, even if she didn't look any more sober than she had before.

"Want some eggs and toast?" I offered.

"If you don't mind, that sounds wonderful," she agreed. "God, it's so nice to come over here and get spoiled."

"It's not the Hilton, but nobody ever complains about the food or the price of the rooms."

I started scrambling some eggs and popped some toast into the toaster. "Hey Ellen, can Dave cook?"

"Passing fair. Mostly we do take out. I can cook, I just don't."

"Only thing Langly can do is toast," I laughed. "Can't believe he's been single as long as he has and can't cook for shit."

"Yeah, you'd think being on his own as long as he was, with his mom working and all, that Dave would cook better than he does. He's okay if it's real basic, but he gets distracted and usually burns it. He does make better coffee than me, though."

"Ellen, if you remember nothing else of this night, remember this: Do not, under any circumstances, drink Langly's coffee. You'll die. I guarantee it."

"Guy's been alone for all his adult life and can't make coffee? Pathetic. I suspect you've been fattening him up, though."

"Strangely enough, no. He's hollow, I swear. If I ate like that, I'd weigh 400 pounds. In fact, I think he got thinner when he was sick."

"Yeah, he had a bug that hung on for a long time. He's okay now?"

"Seems to be. He's not coughing all over the place, at any rate."

"Hard to believe that guy could get thinner than he already is."

"Yeah, isn't it? He's all arms and legs. Well, not all arms and legs," I grinned lasciviously.

"You dirty old woman."

"Speak for yourself."

"I wish. I think it's a pathetic commentary on our lives that we're too busy to cook a meal or have sex."

"Sometimes it just happens that way."

"No, Al, it doesn't just happen. It happens because Dave and I are the way we are. And sometimes, I wish we could be different."

"Don't think that's gonna happen. And anyway, what makes you think my life is just one continual lovefest? Most of the time we're working and taking care of Miranda or dealing with the animals or coping with a power outage or cleaning the place up or trying   to..." deal with missing relatives, I thought silently.

"Yeah, I guess...I'm looking for the ideal world, Al. I used to think if I just worked hard enough, I'd create it. Or at least play a part in its creation."

"Ellen, you do what you have to do to make the world a better place. I do what I have to do. Maybe it's not enough. But I think it has to be, because we just can't do anything else. If we're missing something here, hopefully we'll find it. Now eat."

"You sound just like a Jewish mother."

"I am a Jewish mother, and so are you. Get over it." I sat down to join her, but as I hit my chair-and not very gracefully, I might add-several youthful faces appeared in the doorway to the kitchen.

"We smelled something good," one of the girls explained. Which kid was this? I had no idea.

"And we're hungry," Shelby added. "We can make it ourselves."

"No, go downstairs, I'll mix it up and call you when it's ready. After I eat mine," I added.

"Cool! Hey 'Randa, your mom's cooking breakfast!" Screams echoed throughout the house.

"Should've let them do it themselves, Al."

"No, you don't understand. This is my kitchen. I'm intensely territorial regarding my kitchen. If I'm here, I cook. That's the rules."

"Well, I can't say I mind being the beneficiary of such stringent rules," Ellen giggled. "Seriously, it's delicious. Hits the spot."

"Ellen, it's eggs and toast. Anybody can do it. Well, almost anybody. Langly can't," I laughed. "Maybe the toast. And only if you don't mind it on the dark side." I giggled some more. "It's funny. I didn't think I'd miss him, but I do. I mean, he's only gone a couple days, but I actually miss him here. I've gotten addicted to being in bed with him."

"Doesn't sound like a bad thing to be addicted to," Ellen affirmed through a mouthful of toast.

"He's a pain in the butt sometimes-"

"What man isn't?"

"True, but he really is a sweetheart. Well, most of the time. He's pretty moody sometimes, and he doesn't always think about what he says-if it's on his mind, it's pretty much in his mouth. And sometimes what he says stings."

"Well, Al, it's not like you can't dish out what you take. And you do dish it out. I know you think you're harmless. Well, you're mostly harmless. But not totally. Nobody is. Least of all myself."

"And you've got a gun."

That made her laugh the first real Ellen-laugh I'd heard in hours. Then she grew sober. "Know how many times I've fired my weapon in 14 years?"

"No idea."

"Twice."

"That's pretty normal, isn't it?"

"Running about average. And I hope I never have to draw it again. The guns are my least favorite part of the job. You probably don't believe it, but I'm scared to death of them. And I hate having them in the house with my kids. I mean, they're good about it, and I have a safe for them, but it still makes me nervous. I still get jumpy sometimes at the practice range.
Which is something I need to do soon. I need to update my firearms certification."

"I've never held a gun. Never wanted to. We don't do them here, and Eric and I didn't do them."

"Wish more people felt that way. I mean, my boys think it's cool I have a firearm and all that, I carry a gun in my work, but if only they knew. I've tried to teach them that guns are the court of absolute last resort. You don't do it until you're on the line, and everything else has been tried."

"I find it interesting that a veteran law enforcement officer would be uneasy about weapons."

"I don't. It's because we see up close and personal the damage they do. You have a husband and wife arguing because he's drunk and she's overdrawn the checking account or something. Normally, it might get nasty, might even come to blows, which is bad enough. Throw a gun into the mix, and it you've got a murder. DV was one of my first assignments after I made detective, and I'd be happy to never see the likes of that in any lifetime."

"I hear you. You know I used to work juvey as a court reporter, didn't you?"

"No, I didn't. God, that's a nightmare."

"Why do you think I'm not doing it anymore?"

"I hear you. You know, I can pretty much deal with whatever adults want to do with each other. They're adults. They have a choice. But kids? Kids have no choice. And lately, a lot of our work's been dealing with kids. And this is really getting to me, Al. I can do a lot of things and sleep nights, but when I see things happening to kids, well..."

"Yeah. We don't take very good care of our kids as a society, do we?"

That made her laugh harshly. "The United States of America? One of the four nations in the world that still executes minors? Putting us up right there with South Africa, Iraq and Bangladesh? Where we'll build bombers that we'll never use but cut immunization programs because they cost too much? Where ketchup is considered a vegetable in the school lunch program?
Where we'd rather build jails than schools? Oh, we take great care of our kids. And then we blame them when things go bad with them. As if we had nothing to do with it."

"I was under the impression we had everything to do with it."

"We do, girlfriend. That's why we're sitting here sweating about everything we're doing wrong in our lives." She finished her coffee. "One thing I will say for Sculder: Unless I'm horribly mistaken, they've got their priorities straight."
 

At four thirty we went to the top of the basement stairs.

"Go to sleep now!" I shouted. I received a response in the form of peals of laughter.

Ellen's here, and she's got a gun!" That got a respectful reduction in noise level.

"And I'm a black belt!" She shouted. Things got significantly quieter.

We passed out until the first parents came to the door later the next day.
 

My initial fear when I woke up was that I had died. Then I feared I hadn't. My head shrieked with pain with every movement I made, and that was before I got up to walk. I hurriedly got a parent and child out the door, and race to the bathroom to deposit the contents of my stomach in a proper receptacle. This routine continued until the last child was gone, save for
Shelby, and I had been reduced to puking up bile.

I didn't even venture downstairs to assess the damage, but simply informed Miranda and Shelby that they were not to come back upstairs until it had reached an acceptable level of order. Upon seeing my state, they vanished, and I didn't see them again for a long while.

Ellen came to sometime in mid-afternoon. She groaned, but she didn't look as if she'd suffered as much damage as I had. The advantages of being a larger person, I thought rudely, are so unfair.

"It's quiet," she moaned, closing her eyes again.

"Nice, isn't it? Only way I know I didn't die and go to hell."

"Mind if I use your shower?"

"Be my guest."

"Thanks." She moved slowly off the sofa. "Hope you don't mind, I'm not quite ready to drive yet."

"No problem, stay as long as you like."

"Thanks. Mind if I keep these clothes on? I'll wash 'em."

"I don't think Langly would mind. And if he does, I'll spank him."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, girlfriend." She laughed.

The phone rang, and of course I went through the roof.

"Hey, did I interrupt your hangover?" Langly was on the other end.

"Don't tell me you're still in the 7-11."

"Nope, now we're at Denny's. You're not gonna believe this."

"Don't make me guess, babe, my brain is nonfunctional right now."

"Frohike's eating. With his kid."

"So he finally came back."

"At about 6 this morning. Probably spent the night trying to score."

"I surmise he came home alone."

"He did, although we should have knocked earlier, he's got a roommate."

"How'd it go?"

"Well, let's just say, not real friendly."

"To be expected."

"I mean, me and Byers, we hung back, just in case the kid was a psycho or had a gun or it was just the wrong kid."

"So he is the kid."

"Yeah, and about the worst thing you can say about him, he's a surly bastard."

"Bet he was surprised."

"That was the weird part. Not as much as you'd think."

"So what do you think of him?"

"Well, he's Frohike, but a lot less polite. But definitely the apple didn't fall far from the tree here."

"Meaning?"

"Hey, paranoid, rabid, covert, and horny."

"Okay. And what does he do for an encore?"

"Who knows? They're bitching at each other over omelets right now."

"So they've gotten to the discussion state."

"I think Michael's gotten to the point where he'd go for a free meal."

"I don't think one meal is going to get things straightened out between them."

"I don't think one meal's even gonna get them to where they can start getting it straightened out. Hey, if my old man materialized by magic here on earth today, I'm not sure we'd even make it to point A without a lot of arm wrestling."

"Your situation's different. Your dad died. Frohike's ex cut him off from the kids."

"Doesn't matter. Still pisses me off that he went and died on me when I was way too young."

"Jason says the same thing. Unfortunately for you two, you're stuck where you're at. Michael Frohike, on the other hand, has a chance to restore some kind of relationship with his dad. I hope he does. I think it would do Frohike's heart good, and I imagine it would be good for Michael."

"If I don't kill the little snotfaced bastard first."

"You don't like him much, do you, babe?"

"Only 'cause he's just like I was when I was his age." We laughed.

"Langly, it's not like you're ancient. How old is this kid?"

"23."

"And you're 36. Not exactly an ocean apart."

"Yeah, well, he's a brat."

"And so are you."

"Who, me?"

"Yes, you. Takes one to know one, babe."

"You're such a bad little girl, you know that?"

"Well, when you get back, you'll find out just how bad I can be."

"Ooh, promises, promises. How'd the kiddie party go?"

"Loudly. I don't know what they did to the downstairs, but I told Miranda and Shelby not to show their faces until they'd restored some semblance of its original state."

"Original like when we moved in, or original in like the mess that was there before it started?"

"Don't care, so long as I don't have to cope with it."

"Planning another night of serious drinking?"

"You've got to be kidding. I don't think I want to see another bottle of tequila for a while. I haven't had a hangover like this since I can't remember when."

"Worse than Vegas?"

"Vegas was nothing, babe. I was tired, but none of my internal organs were compromised. I don't think I could necessarily say the same thing today."

"Ah, praying to the porcelain god, I see. God, I wanna get out of this fucking miserable state. I hate NJ."

"Where in NJ are you?"

"Newark."

"Jesus."

"Could be worse. We could be in Hackensack. Thinking about going out to Bergen County tomorrow, though. Pay our buddy Sam Silverman a little surprise visit."

"From what Frohike indicated to me, he won't appreciate that."

"Tough. I think the dude knows stuff he's not telling us."

"You all going? Last time, he agreed only to see Frohike."

"Well, I suppose it depends on how it goes with the kid whether or not Frohike comes along for the ride. Me and Byers, though, we wanna talk to him."

"He may not want to talk to you is all I'm saying."

"Well, we go there, what's the worst he can say? He can say no, right?"

"Or put a gun in your face."

"Even with guns, you usually get time to scream and run. 'Sides, we'll let Byers go to the door. Everybody trusts Byers. They shouldn't, but they do."

"Why? Because he looks like he sells insurance?"

"Oh God, he's gonna love that one. I gotta tell him that." He was laughing. "So whatcha gonna do tonight?"

"I suspect we'll watch terrible TV and fall asleep. You?"

"Sleep would be cool, since we didn't get hardly any last night. We got a few hours at the pay-by-the-hour motel nearby."

"Hope the sheets were clean."

"I didn't pull back the covers to see. Anyway, Byers said we'd spring for Motel 6 tonight."

"Whoa, now you're living large."

"Hey, they got free HBO. What more could a guy want?"

"If I have to tell you that, you really are pathetic."

He laughed. "Anyway, I think my food's coming up, finally! God, I hate Denny's, they're so fucking slow and they always bring me toast and not an English muffin, even though I always ask for one. Let's see if they keep up their amazing track record."

"Go eat, babe. You're looking skinny these days."

"Spoken like the Jewish mom you are. Miss ya."

"Love you, babe."

"You, too." I cut the connection. Ellen had emerged from the shower, and she looked a lot healthier than she had previously.

"Hey, Ellen, I've got a favor to ask you."

"Shoot." She was toweling her hair dry.

"Think Dave would do the Mourner's Kaddish on Wednesday for me? I mean, I can't be there for the unveiling, but it would mean a lot to me for him to do it, if it's not too much trouble."

"Al, get real. It's his fucking job to do it. Of course he'd do it for you."

"Maybe you should ask him first."

"Trust me, he'll do it. With Dave, there are certain things you don't wonder about, and that's one of them. Now, what was this you said, you've got a bunch of old Land of the Giants tapes? I love that show. Let's pop 'em in."

"Want a margarita to go with that?" I teased.

"You really are a cruel woman, Al."

END OF PART 31