Ted’s condo. 

In jeans and his grungy Cool Cat tee, Ted stood in his kitchen, held a dish of cat food and panned the living room.  “Lupe.  Come on, Lupe.”  He did a jittery wristwatch check. “Shit.  I should’ve pushed for two.”  His eyes darted down to the full-grown gray cat rubbing against his legs.  “Finally.”  He set the dish on the kitchen floor, patted the purring tabby.  “Enjoy and think of me fondly.”

Rushing past the couch, Ted bumped into the covered cat bed, quickly straightened it.  Then he ran to his bedroom, scrounged his closet floor and grabbed an armful of old shirts, carried them back to the living room and tried to collect three paint cans.  Too much.  Next trip.  He struggled to open his door, flew out and rumbled down the steps. 

At the main entry, he set the kickstop to hold the security door open, unlocked his car trunk, threw the rag pile in and zipped back into the building.  Past a prim-dressed Woman locking her door.  “Hi, Mrs. Rosenblum.”

She pointed to the open door. “Mr. Schmidt, there’s -”

“It’ll only be open a minute, and I’ll be watching the whole time,” he vowed and rumbled up the stairs.

She shook her head, hurried out the door and turned up the walk.  By then, Ted was back with his paint cans and a paintbrush held like a flamenco rose in his teeth.  He flung everything into the trunk, slammed the lid.  Glimpsed his watch again while dashing to release and check the security door.  Then he sprinted back to his car and was on his way.  Can’t be late.  Have to keep a good impression.

On the Loft landing…

Daphne saw the open door and heard Justin clear his throat.  Twice.  Something he did when he was upset.  Not sure what to expect, she crept to the doorway and rapped lightly on the frame.  “Justin?”

“Hey, Daph.  Come on in.”

She stepped inside, saw him bent over and ramming clothing into his duffle.  “You didn’t sound too good when I called.  Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.  Fine.”

Oh god.  He can’t be moving out already.  Daphne raised an uneasy smile, glanced around for Brian.  “What’re you doing?”

Catching her tension, Justin looked up, “No, it’s not what you think,” punched the last shirt inside and yanked the zipper hard.  “Brian’s cleaners already picked up so I’ll hafta do one load before I can get on their schedule.”

“Yeah, right.  Like I believe you’re freaking out over your laundry.”

“I’m not freaking out.”  No sense laying shit on Daphne.  Justin stood up, dim smile. “Sorry.  It’s just a shitty business deal with the comic.” He kicked the duffle, “I don’t wanna talk about it,” took a settling breath, reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.  “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh.”  Daphne fished through her purse, held out a slip of paper.  “Here you go.”  She watched him read the receipt, count out bills.  “It’s still in the car.  Just in case he was here.”  She tried a brighter smile.  “Maybe it’ll improve your evening.”

“Brian called and said he’ll be stuck at work till seven, so I’ll just put it in the basement for now.  From the way he sounded, I doubt either of us’ll be in the mood tonight anyway.”  Justin handed her the money.  “Don’t worry about the change.  I really appreciate your bringing it over.  Want a drink or something?”

“I have to get back to help my aunt clean up her basement,” Daphne wrinkled her nose, shoved the bills in her purse.  “But I can drop you at the laundromat if you want.”

“That’d be great. Thanks,” Justin nodded, stooped to center the shoulder strap then heaved the bag up.  The least of his burdens.

At Sad Elder Sophie’s bungalow…

Ted pulled to a fast stop, popped the trunk lid, sped to the back of the car and froze wide-eyed before groaning, “Lupe.”  He gently lifted her off the rag pile, squinted and brushed his hand over a gray sweatshirt.  Stared at his hand, covered in cat hair.  “So THAT’S where you’ve been staying.”  He smiled apologetically at the purring cat.  “We’ll make sure that shirt comes back home.”  Then the dilemma struck. “What am I gonna DO with you.”

His thoughts were interrupted by Edna on the front porch.  “Ted, do you need help with …oh my.  Is that a cat?”

“Oh, hi, Edna,” he smiled with nervous nonchalance.  “I just thought I’d bring a friend with me, if it’s not too rude, presumptuous or disrespectful.”  I’m dead.

At the Laundromat…

Justin saw a mix of people loitering outside with duffels and baskets.  And not all of them were smoking.  He opened the door to damp heat, chlorine smells and more of the crowd. 

A harried Lady Attendant in a smock and holding a stack of chits blocked his entry, barked, “Two machine limit.  No rags or rugs.  Wait till your number’s called,” and shoved a chit at him before going back on patrol.

He glanced at his number, watched her weave up the aisle and was turning to leave when he saw a familiar blonde tossing clothes into a couple machines at the far end.  “Linz!”  he shouted, waved his chit.  He saw her gesture him over, wormed past the line and ignored, “Thought  I was next.”  “I didn’t hear the number.”  “Was he here earlier?”

Linz put on her smiley Gallery face and a sweet, “It’s okay.  He’s with me,” to the scowling Attendant, then discreetly to Justin,  “Get your things out and we’ll combine loads.  Hurry up.”

Justin unzipped his duffle, shot looks at surly faces as he piled items between the open lids.  “What’re they giving away today?”

“It’s the only laundromat open, and a lot of people can’t use their own yet. I had to wait almost two hours for these.”  She grabbed and separated Justin’s things into the washers, quickly added liquid detergent, slammed the lids.  “There.”

Justin dug a roll of quarters from his pocket.  “I’m paying, and don’t argue.”  He unrolled, slotted and shoved in change until the machines started.  “I really appreciate this.  And I completely forgot about soap.”

“It’s no problem at all, Sweetie.”  Linz thunked her basket on one machine, plopped his bag on the other, pointed to nearby wall space and whispered, “We’ll have to stay close.  People who leave come back to find their wash piled in corners.”

“Hostile seems to be the mood of the day,” he muttered as he joined her against the wall.

Linz risked a low, “Did something happen with Brian?”

Why are people quick to pick on Brian.  “No.  The movie deal.  I may have to check out my legal rights and I’m not sure where to start.”  Suddenly regretting the blurt, he flicked a look at her.  “It’s really kinda private.”

Linz softened, “Why don’t you talk to Mel?”

As in, Mel-The-Mother-Of-Michael’s-Child?  “No, I don’t think so,” he wrinkled a face.

“If you’re worried about privacy, I’m sure if you let her know that, she’ll keep it to herself.”  Linz watched Justin’s eyes connect with hers, still some doubt.  “She’s a professional attorney, Justin.  And she cares a lot about you.”

His desire to change the subject bowed to repressed intimacy in her tone.  “Sounds like you still care a lot about HER.”

Linz’s eyes darted uncomfortably around the room, “I never said I didn’t.  It’s just not the same,” then returned with a dolorous, “Maybe once we spend some time apart, we’ll figure out how to handle this new, different…us.” 

They both snapped toward a man’s loud, “Hey.  We’re next.”

Emmett with a clothesbasket under one arm, stepped up to Irate and blinked annoyance right back at him.  “Excuse me.  Did you take a number?”

“Yes I did.”

“Then you worry about yours?  And I’ll worry about mine.”  He revved a broad smile at Justin and Linz, “Hi, Sweeties!” and sashayed over.  “I would’ve been here sooner, but Mr. Speed Queen wanted to chat?  And there’s no worse bitch than a queen down to a Z-List wardrobe.”

Justin furrowed a brow at Em’s basket, reached in and lifted a lacey pink brassiere.  “This is YOURS?”

Linz stifled a laugh; Emmett snatched it with a horrified, “Ohmygod.  That’s a fine washable.  It’s not even supposed to be IN here,” and carefully wedged it into a corner of the basket with a more serious, “No, it’s Darren’s.  His sister was scrubbing out her basement and had a little episode…they think a mild heart attack.”

“Oh no,” Linz paled.  “Isn’t she about our age?”

“About that…really young.”

Justin sparked, “How is she?  And Darren?”

“Not to worry.  I just talked to him and he said she’s fine now, but they’re keeping her at the hospital for observation.  I told him I’d take care of this while he’s there.  And he asked when the movie’s coming out.  Any new dish?”

“Nothing much,” Justin shook his head, side-eyed Linz and smiled at her silence.

Emmett rubbed an eye, swivel-scanned a host of fluffer-folders, swished a hand in front of his face, “How can you two stand this tropical dust storm?” and noticed a tall Hunk in line waving back.  “I, uh, think I see somebody else who might want to…combine loads,” he grinned and left.

“We’ll see you later,” Linz waved then faced Justin, “After we’re done, you’re coming back to the house with me, you can talk to Mel, and I’ll drive you home.  All right?”

“Okay,” Justin exhaled.  Shit.  I have to do SOMETHING.

At the bungalow…

Edna waited in the kitchen until Sophie stepped from the basement.  Dimmer hearing made Edna louder than she thought.  “Sophie, I know you don’t want to be here alone with him, but I really have to leave.  Why don’t you ask him to come back tomorrow?”

Ted, painting near the bottom step, heard the strained hush.  His face drooped.  Eyes fell.  And his brushstrokes faltered limp.  It’s useless, he thought, labored to his feet to move away from any more stabbing words.  Until he heard Sophie’s answer.

“You go ahead.  We’ll be okay.”

“But after what the paper -”

“Oh, that paper. They always blow things way out of proportion.  How could anyone who cares about animals so much be that horrible?”

Ted’s face lit, smile recharged.  He pulled his shoulders back, gripped the brush and attacked the last spot.  Then he stood back with a plucky nod, tamped the paint lid on the can and ran it up the stairs to the kitchen.

He saw Sophie sitting at the table, quietly talking, petting the cat on her lap.  “It’s all done good as new.”

“So soon?” she asked, turned back to Lupe.  “We were just getting to be friends.”

“Why don’t you get a cat of your own?”

“At MY age?” she shook her head.  “It’s not that I can’t take care of one.  It’s just that…if something ever happened to ME, who would care for HER.”

Ted thought, tipped his head, “We can share Lupe.”  He saw her eyes widen, the first glint of a smile.  “I work long hours, and I still like to go out once in awhile.  It’ll keep her from getting lonely.  And she’ll have a spare home.”

“Now I know why your Mother is so proud of you.”

“I’m proud of HER, too.”  Ted lifted the paint can in one hand, dirty brush in the other.  “I seem to have my hands full right now…can you keep Lupe for awhile?  I can pick her up tonight.”

“I’d like that,” Sophie smiled and nodded.  Strange light in these dark days - a Pound Kitty and a man of questionable morals - diamonds almost missed because of the rough.   

At Mel and Linz’s house…

Michael sat beside Mel on the couch, eyes fixed on Jenny in his arms.  “Then it’s all settled.  Tomorrow you and Mom are coming to Dad’s place while he paints the basement.”  He shifted focus to Mel.  “Are you sure you don’t want the drywall redone?  Because between Brian and me -”

“White block will look just fine,” Mel assured.  “I can handle the expense.”

“I know you can,” Michael shrugged.  “But I’m still a part of this family, too.”  He smiled at the Baby’s roaming eyes.  “Yeah.  Once Daddy’s movie comes out, you’re gonna live like a real princess.”  He paused and added to Mel, “Or a Lesbian.  Whatever she wants is fine by me.”

Mel smiled warmly.  Was it his trust in her ability as a working mother?  Or his devotion to the tiny bundle?  During those moments, Michael was her star.  Yet not.  In a brief flash, she saw Linz with Jenny, Gus awed and touching Jenny’s hair.  Mel sank with a pang of longing, blinked and groped for a change.  “So when IS this Movie Premiere?”

Michael’s smile fell. He looked down at Jenny, handed her to Mel. “Not sure yet.  Looks like we’re gonna have some legal problems.”

“I’m not an entertainment lawyer, but I can check around for someone if you want.  Why don’t you ask Brian if HE knows anyone?  Advertising is more media-oriented.”

“I really don’t think he would -”  Dammit.  Justin.  Would he?  DAMMIT!

Mel caught Michael’s silent groan.  “What is it?”

“You’re right.  I’ll give him a call right now.”  Michael stood up and pulled his cell phone as he walked toward the front window.  Don’t want to do this.  Don’t really fucking want to do this.

At Kinnetik, shirt part unbuttoned, right sleeve rolled up, Brian stretched in his chair, sniffed back fatigue and rubbed a hand over his eyes.  Cynthia stole in, face somber.

“Brian, it’s five-thirty.  I have to go.”  She watched him sit straight and wave her off.  “Sorry about Epicurean.”

“Can’t win ‘em all.  And Cynthia?  You were dynamite on the scanner.”

She beamed a wicked smile.  “Just don’t lay off the Art Department and expect me to do that, too.”

He leaned back, hand to his chin, big grin.

“Don’t even think it!  ‘Night.” She turned and hurried out before she gave him any MORE great ideas.

Grin sinking, Brian went back to scanning notes on his desk and entering them into his computer.  Fuck.  This one-hand shit’ll take all night.

Still in work clothes, Ted entered the office, got Brian’s eye and smiled wide.  “I saw Cynthia leaving.  She said you were still here.”   

“Why, Theodore.  You finally got laid.”

“Better.  And I wanted to thank you again for the early quit.”

“If you really want to thank me, burn that shirt.”

Never.  Ted took it in stride, watched Brian work.  “What are you doing?”

“Adjusting payroll.  Updating the Brown account.  Counting up the loss on Epicurean.”

Grasping the meaning, Ted’s smile faded.  “Oh.  Wow.  Was it something I did?”

Brian twisted a frown, stared at him.  “You’re still here, aren’t you?”  He watched Ted tilt a thought, softened, “It was a tough project.  And a risk of working on spec.”

Ted nodded.  Knew Brian hated to lose at anything.  Wanted to do something to help, impossible as it seemed.  He leaned over the desk and gathered papers.  “Why don’t you call it quits for tonight and let ME finish this.  It’s the least I can do after what you did for me.”

“On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“Stop thanking me.  It’s boring as shit.”

“You got it,” Ted smiled and made a hasty exit.

Brian shut down his computer, calmly set his briefcase on the desk and opened it.  Lifted the Epicurean folder - Fucking maggot peddlers – flung it into the case and slammed it shut.  Then his cell phone rang.  Brian worked the phone from his pocket, checked the caller ID and answered, “If it isn’t Michaelangelo.  Did you finish your Mom’s chapel?”

“Yeah.” Michael glanced at Mel talking to Jenny, decided not to elaborate.  “Hey.  You wanna grab a beer at Woody’s after work?”

“For once your timing is perfect.  I’m just on my way out.”

“Good.  I’ll meet you there in about a half hour.”

“If I’m not barside, check poolside.”

Brian closed his phone and shoved it back into his pocket, grabbed the briefcase handle and paused.  I had enough of this shit for one day.  Bring on the fucking beer and mindless chatter about Debbie’s basement.  Brian tossed the briefcase under his desk and walked out. 

At Mel and Linz’s house…

Mel parted the living room curtains, saw Linz park the car, the trunk lid rise and Justin get out.  Made her smile to see someone familiar who could keep the conversation from becoming too frigid.  She opened the front door to Linz’s quiet greeting.

“It took longer than I expected.  The place was a madhouse.”  Linz stepped in with Justin close behind and holding a loaded basket.  “And look who I found.”

“Hey, Mel.”

“Justin,” she smiled, shut the door and followed them in.  “Thanks for helping.”

“Actually, Linz saved me from a long wait. Where should I put this?”

Linz motioned, “Just drop it right there,” volleyed glances from Mel to Justin.  “Justin told me he might need some legal advice on the movie deal, so I hope you don’t mind.”

“I know.  Michael already asked.”

“He did?” Justin rolled up wary eyes.  “What did he say?”

“We didn’t get into it.” She watched Justin’s lips tighten as he looked down and slowly shook his head.  “I’m really sorry, Sweetie, but it’s not my area of expertise.  If you want to check with Brian, they’re both at Woody’s right now.”

Pulse jumping, Justin caught himself before his stare turned acrid, kept his voice calm.  “I’ll touch base with them later on.  Linz?  Can I leave my stuff here?  I’ll just be gone for a little while.”

“Sure.”

“Thanks,” Justin grimly smiled and saw himself out.  Hafta get out of here before I say something choice about Jenny’s Father.

Mel watched with regret.  “I didn’t want to disappoint them.  Maybe I should have at least asked him what the problem was.”

“I don’t think that’s it.  He told me they wanted it kept private and he’s probably just concerned that it isn’t anymore.”

Mired back in personal woes, Mel stared, “I guess you and I both know the feeling.”

They stood staring at each other from across their invisible cavern, knowing that soon EVERYONE would know, and their empty shell of normalcy would begin to fall apart.

Outside, Justin cleared the bottom step, stopped and kicked it, took a couple deep breaths and debated what to do.  He dug out his cell phone and checked for a formal invitation.  No messages.  Temper rising, he keyed Brian’s cell, quickly cooled off and disconnected.  Could he call either Brian OR Michael without sounding like a jilted date?  What the FUCK was Michael up to.  With Brian.  Who was supposed to be working late.  Then again, it wasn’t unusual for Michael to seek out Brian for any trivial to catastrophic reason.  Or for Brian to avail himself.  But right after the legal advice thing? 

No.  I’m not waiting until after the fact.  It’s not like Woody’s is a closed meeting place.  If it involves the movie, it involves ME, and I need to know what’s going on.  Only one way to find out.

Eyes set, pace solid, Justin rams his phone into his pocket and hikes toward Woody’s.

Song: “Hornets Nest” by Tim Reynolds

[1] - [2] - [3] - [4] - [5] - [6] - [7] - [8] - [9] - [10]