Three shirt deal

Chapter 14

It was eight-thirty when I pulled into my driveway and parked my busted Acura in the carport next to Alexa's rented BMW. I knew her car was still at the Venice Auto Body Shop for repair because the fender guy called the house about a parts problem and I happened to pick up the phone.

Alexa still hadn't mentioned that she crashed her car and that really bothered me, but if I brought it up, I knew it would trigger another argument.

Inside I found Alexa at the desk in the alcove closet we'd converted into her home office. She had papers strewn everywhere. I'd never seen her work space in such disarray. The old Alexa was organized. This new one could never seem to find anything.

"Hi," I said as I entered.

"I wish you wouldn't move things on my desk, Shane. I had all this stuff exactly where I needed it. Now I can't find anything."

"Alright," I said. "I'm sorry."

I hadn't touched her desk, but I didn't want to fight about that, either. I went into the bedroom and changed from my black gunfighter's outfit into jeans and an old LAPD sweatshirt.

Then I got a beer and headed outside to the backyard for some perspective.

I was sitting out there trying to sort through everything, when Alexa came out and put a hesitant hand on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"You didn't move anything on my desk, did you?"

"No, ma'am."

She rubbed my neck for a minute, then came and sat beside me. "I can't organize my thoughts like I used to. I do things, and half an hour later I find myself doing them again."

"Honey, it will get better."

"When? When is it gonna get better? Part of me wants so badly to hold on to this job because I love it, and part of me knows I'm screwing up so badly I don't deserve to be there."

This was the opening I'd been waiting for, but I wanted to come at it another way. For the moment, I changed the subject and said, "I got rear-ended on my way home. Gonna have to get the Acura fixed. I was thinking I should take the MDX to Venice Auto Body on Ninth, then go to that rental car place on the corner of Ocean, and get something to drive until it's fixed."

I saw her stiffen. I already knew the place on Ocean was where she'd rented the replacement BMW. Venice Auto Body was where her car was being repaired. If I went to either of those places, she knew she'd be busted. I held my breath while we sat in silence.

She inhaled deeply. "Shane, I need to tell you something. That car out there in the garage. It's not mine. It's a rental. I crashed my car, too. The first convulsion happened when I was driving home last week. Nobody got hurt. I hit a tree two blocks from here. That's why I've been using a department driver to chauffeur me."

I reached out and took her hand. "I was worried about you driving when you first told me about the convulsions." "And you're not mad?" "Why should I be mad? You couldn't help it." She thought about that, and then turned to face me. "You knew already, didn't you?"

Her blue eyes were so beautiful, I was always amazed at the many ways she could look at me-sometimes with childlike innocence, other times with sexual mischief and sometimes, like now, with razor-sharp understanding.

"You knew. I can't believe you knew," she repeated.

We sat holding hands silently, for a moment.

"And you didn't say anything?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I understood. It wasn't about me, it was about you." "I sure hit the jackpot when I found you," she said, and laid her head on my shoulder. I put my arm around her.

We sat like that, feeling a closeness we hadn't felt in a long time.

Then, from out of nowhere, she said, "I'm sorry I haven't wanted to make love in a while. I know that bothers you." "It's okay," I said, still holding her.

"We could go inside. We could do it now," she offered tentatively.

"Is that what you want?" I said.

"Not really." She smiled sadly. "I'm never quite in the mood anymore."

"Then we should wait," I said. "It's more important that we talk."

"I used to be so sexual," she said sadly. "Nothing feels the same anymore. It's not you." "I know."

"I'll find my way back, Shane." "I'll be right here."

We continued to sit like that for almost an hour, feeling close, feeling sad, feeling strangely different.