Jeff Lindsay - Dexter's Final Cut

“Hi,” I said, with as much good cheer as I could manufacture.

“You said you would call,” Rita said. “And that was Monday-and Deborah says it’s something risky? But I can’t really tell what she means, and- Do you have clean socks?”

“Yes, I have socks,” I said, glancing at Jackie and hoping she was too busy musing to hear me.

“You always lose your socks,” Rita said. “And you hate when they’re dirty-remember that time in Key West? And they cost twice as much down there.”

“Well, I’m not in Key West,” I said. “And I have some clean socks.”

The corner of Jackie’s mouth began to twitch, and although I hoped she was only remembering a really good knock-knock joke, I had the distinct and unpleasant feeling that she was trying very hard not to laugh at me.

“Do you have any idea how long?” Rita said. “And there are some heavy boxes here, stuff from the garage; I can’t carry them. But they have to go to- Oh. The power is on now? And the insurance company said the new house has a market value much higher than- Astor, I’m talking on the phone. Astor, please! Are you still there, Dexter?”

“I’m here,” I said. “How are the kids?”

“Lily Anne has a tooth coming in,” she said. “She’s very cranky, and I can’t even- What? No, you have to do your homework first. No. Because you have to,” she said. To Astor again? Or was it Cody this time? There was really no way to know, and I discovered that I didn’t care. I was beginning to find the whole conversation annoying, and the way Jackie was so clearly fighting off an attack of derisive laughter didn’t help at all. I turned away from her and lowered my voice.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” I said, trying to inject a note of finality into my voice. “But I’ll try to call again tomorrow, okay?”

“Tomorrow is the conference with Cody’s teacher,” she said. “At three o’clock, and you said- Damn it, Astor, just let me talk for a minute!”

I was fairly sure I’d said nothing of the kind, but I did remember saying I would be at Cody’s parent-teacher conference. “I’ll try to be there,” I said. “But I am pretty busy.”

“Well, you did promise,” Rita said. “And it’s important to him, so- Oh lord, the baby. I have to go.”

“All right,” I said. “Good-bye.”

I put my phone down and turned back toward Jackie. She was watching me with a very strange expression on her face, part amusement and part-what? Something else I couldn’t quite define. “What?” I asked her, but she just shook her head and took another sip of her drink.

“Nothing,” she said. “Just … nothing.” She looked at me over the rim of her glass, her eyes filled with liquid amusement, among other things. “Your wife seems like a very nice person.”

“Yes, she is,” I said.

“ And a good cook, too …”

I just nodded.

She cocked her head to one side and stared at me very seriously. “So it’s worth it. The whole”-she waved a hand to indicate almost everything-“this marriage thing? It works for you?” she said.

It seemed like a strange question, which made it just right for the way this evening was going. “I guess so,” I said.

“You guess so,” she said, still staring, and I shrugged and nodded. “That’s not really an overwhelming endorsement.”

“Well, I mean,” I said, trying to think of an appropriate response, “it has its ups and downs.”

“Uh-huh,” she said. “What are the ups?”

“Oh, the, um … We’re moving into a new house,” I said. “It, ah … There’s a pool?” It sounded pretty lame, even to me, and Jackie let it hang there for a few seconds, the silence making it sound even lamer.

“Uh-huh,” she said at last. “The pool that needs a new cage.”

“That’s right-and it has a much bigger kitchen,” I just blurted out; I don’t know why, except I felt I had to say something.

“Right,” Jackie said. “So Rita can cook even more.”

“Yes, that’s right,” I said. I grabbed for my mojito, mostly because I was floundering through very boggy ground and really needed the security of having something to do with my hands.

“Uh-huh,” she said. She sipped her drink and studied me with one eyebrow raised. “So does marriage make you happy?”

“It’s … it’s, um,” I said with my usual eloquence. “I mean, you know.”

“No, I don’t,” she said. “Never had it.” She tilted her head and shrugged. “But it doesn’t sound like it’s exactly thrilling you.” And although I have to admit that I was starting to think so, too, it didn’t seem like something I should say out loud.

“You still haven’t said what Rita looks like,” Jackie said with a frown.

“Oh,” I said. “Well, um-I mean, she was very good-looking, when-”

“ Was good-looking?” Jackie interrupted. She took a big slug from her glass. I watched her throat muscles glide as she swallowed. “Jesus, I’d cut your heart out if you said that about me.”

“Oh, but that’s …” I said, wondering how this had all gotten so far out of hand. “I mean, I would never say that about you.…”

She eyed me for a moment. “You’d better not,” she said.

She drained the last two inches of mojito from her glass and set it on the table with a loud takk . “What about dinner?”

After wrestling with philosophy, the phone call from Rita, and Jackie’s merciless grilling, it was nice that there was finally something real and rewarding to latch onto. “Absolutely,” I said, with the very best hearty good cheer I could simulate under the circumstances. Jackie gave me a somewhat cynical smile, and nodded toward the house phone.

I called in our order.

I was sitting on the balcony early the next morning, nursing my second cup of coffee, when Jackie came out and sat across from me. “Good morning,” she said brightly, brushing back a strand of still-wet hair that flopped over her forehead. She reached for the coffeepot and poured herself a cup. “Um,” she said. “I’m sorry if last night was a little …” She fluttered one hand. “I don’t know. I just got thinking that, you know.” She shrugged. “I really don’t know what to do with you.”

I must have given her a look that showed how strange her statement sounded, because she blushed, looked away, and waved a hand in the air.

“I mean,” she said, “I’ve never had a bodyguard before.”

“To be honest, I’ve never been one before, either,” I said.

“Right,” she said. She sipped the coffee. “But seeing you there all the time I forget why you’re here and I kind of … you know. There aren’t that many people I can just sort of hang with.” She made a wry face. “Especially men.” She gave me a half smile. “But I feel very … comfortable with you.”

I might have told her that this was not really a strong endorsement of her good sense, but she sipped her coffee and went on.

“You treat me like a human being,” she said. “Not like I’m a rare piece of china, or the Second Coming or something, and that’s … Do you know how unusual that is, for me? To be treated like … normal?”

“Not really,” I said. “But I think I’m starting to get an idea.”

“It’s very unusual,” she said. “I mean, I know it goes with the territory, and there are even some people who like it.”

“Yes,” I said, thinking of Robert. “I have noticed that.”

Jackie looked at me, and then smirked. “Yeah, he really does, doesn’t he?” she said, to show she knew what I was thinking.

“He certainly seems to.”