Jennifer Crusie: GETTING RID OF BRADLEY

“Don’t say that word,” Zack said. “Maturity means death.”

“It does not. What’s wrong with you?”

Zack started drumming his fingers again. “I don’t know. Sometimes… You know, my brothers are all married. They’ve got wives, they’ve got kids, they’ve got big houses, they’ve got responsibilities.” He scowled at Anthony. “It’s like they’re living death.”

“I’ve met your family. They’re happy. What are you talking about?”

“Responsibility,” Zack said. “Maturity. The minute I stopped chasing that camcorder, death said hello.”

Anthony started to laugh. “I don’t believe this. You’ve always been a flake, but this, this is new. You know what you need?”

“Nothing. I need nothing. I’ll be fine.”

“You need to settle down. Look, you used to live for this job, but it’s not enough anymore. That’s good. But you look at your brothers, and you want what they’ve got, and it scares you, so you become depressed instead. That’s bad. Face it. Maturity is not death. It’s just the next step in life. Most people encounter it sooner than you did, but you’ll do fine.” Anthony sipped his coffee. “You will have to change the kind of women you date, though.”

“What’s wrong with the kind of women I date?”

“They’re younger than your car, they carry knives, and they ride motorcycles naked on I-75.”

“Well, they beat those plastic Yuppies you hang out with. What’s the latest one’s name? Cheryl? Please.” Zack rolled his eyes.

“Cheryl has many fine qualities,” Anthony said without much enthusiasm.

“Name one.”

“She can read. Have you ever dated anyone literate?”

“Look, I don’t want to date anybody right now.”

“You’re not dating?” Anthony frowned at him. “There are no women in your life?”

“I’m resting.” Zack leaned back in the booth and tapped his fingers on the cracked upholstery. “I’m concentrating on my career.”

“Oh, good for you. So how long has it been since you… dated?”

“New Year’s Eve.”

I Anthony shook his head. “That’s two months. That alone could make you depressed.”

“I’m not that depressed.” Zack’s tapping picked up speed. “Could we get off this please?”

“All right, you’re not ready for a wife. Start small. Get a dog.”

“A dog? A dog?” Zack slapped the table. “A dog. That’s all I need is some dopey dog with big sad eyes telepathically telling me he never sees me and where have I been?”

“Zack…”

“Besides, I had a dog once. I got him when I was three.”

“Zack…”

“I went away to college and he died. Dogs are a responsibility. You can’t leave them.”

“You went away to college.” Anthony cast an imploring look at the ceiling. “I don’t believe this. Zack, if you got him when you were three, he was fifteen by the time you went to college. That’s 105 in dog years. He died because he was old, not because you went to college.”

Zack wasn’t listening. “You start taking responsibility for things, they worry you. I don’t need that. Worry slows you down. You start to second-guess everything. And then, pretty soon, the instincts go. That’s why I hang out with you. Nothing ever happens to you.”

“Thank you,” Anthony said. “I think. All right, a dog is not a good idea, but maybe-”

“Look, could we get back to work here? This conversation is really depressing me.”

“Fine. But think about what I said.” Zack scowled at him and Anthony held up his hand. “All right, hack to work. Now, which one of those two women over there does your sixth sense tell you is John Bradley, embezzler?” He studied them. “The hot brunette has a mean look to her, but I suppose the blonde’s a possible, too.”

“You don’t think the blonde’s hot?” Zack shook his head. “You have no taste in women. The hair’s a little weird, but the face is good, and the body is excellent.”

“How do you know? They’re sitting down.”

“She went to the counter to get another fork. I may be getting older, but I’m not dead yet. The blonde would definitely be worth some time.” Zack squinted over at her. “You know, I think she’s been looking at me.”

“Right.”

“Hey. Women look at me. It happens.”

“Well, at least you’re not depressed anymore.” Anthony checked his watch. “We’ve wasted an hour here for nothing. Would you like to arrest the blonde so you can pat her down, or shall we just leave?”

“Fine. Make fun.” Zack shoved his coffee away and tossed some coins on the table as a tip. “But I’m telling you right now, there’s something here that would have helped us break this Bradley case. And now we’ll never know.”

“I can live with that,” Anthony said.

“That’s because you have no instincts,” Zack said.

“OKAY,” TINA SAID AS Lucy finished her salad. “Let’s concentrate on the basics-getting your new life started.”

“Let’s not,” Lucy said.

“First of all, you’ve got to get rid of anything of Bradley’s that’s left. Then we’ve got to change your hair. And then I’ll fix you up with some presentable men I know. Everyone I know has money, so at least you’ll be eating in decent restaurants. Not like this dump.”

“Tina,” Lucy said. “No dating. I will fix my hair because it looks awful, but no dating.”

“What about Bradley’s papers? I think you should throw whatever he left out on the lawn. Or better yet, burn it and dance around the flames.”

“Tina, that’s ridiculous. You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“No, I’m not. Psychologically, this is a very big deal. Get rid of his things and you’ll get rid of him.”

“I am rid of him,” Lucy protested. “I just want to talk to him so I know what happened. I don’t want him back.”

“Good Remember that.” Tina stood and took her black silk trench coat from the rack at the end of the booth. Then she handed Lucy her bright blue quilted-cotton jacket and bag. “What have you got in that bag? It weighs a ton.”

“My physics book, remember? I brought it so if the divorce got boring, I could review. And sure enough…” Tina closed her eyes. “I have to save you. This is too painful.” She jabbed her finger at Lucy. “You go home and start throwing Bradley out. I’ll make an appointment for your hair tomorrow.”

“Tina. No. If I want my hair done, I will do it.”

“I know this wonderful woman on Court Street…”

“No.”

Tina stopped. “All right. But at least get rid of Bradley.”

“Maybe.” Lucy took a deep breath, full of independence. “Maybe.”

“DAMN IT. I was sure there’d be something about Bradley here.” Zack stood.

“Your blonde’s leaving,” Anthony said and they both turned to watch.

They were splitting up, the brunette heading for the back door to the parking lot, the blonde to the street door. Just before she got to the door, the brunette turned.

“Lucy,” she called, and it sounded like an order. “I mean it. As soon as you get home.”

“All right, all right,” the blonde said. “As soon as I get home, I will get rid of Bradley.” Then she turned and walked out the door.

“Instinct,” Zack said and took off after her.

“I hate it when you do this,” Anthony said, and moved toward the parking-lot door to stop the brunette.

The February wind cut at Lucy’s face as she set off at a dead run to find her car, her purse banging heavily into her hip. She’d almost reached the alley next to the lot when somebody grabbed her arm, and she swung around and fell against the brick wall of the building behind her.