Authors: Devin Morgan
The train rattled as it pulled above ground. Her stop was next. She gathered her bags,
buttoning her top button, girding against the wind she knew would be whipping across
the platform. The bright lights reflected on the huge snowflakes and the gusts stirred
them until it appeared they were falling sideways. The cold air took her breath away.
She hurried down the stairs and through the turnstile into the street. Feeling the
chill on her face, Sarah
quickened her pace driven by the unrelenting Chicago cold. Her toes began to feel
frozen despite her boots. She was glad when she reached the entrance to her building.
“Good evening Miss Hagan.”
“Hi Ralph.” She shivered as she stepped from the winter air into the warmth of the
lobby.
“Working late tonight, aren’t you Miss?”
“Not nearly as late as you are.” She smiled, patting his shoulder as she passed him.
“Have a good sleep,” he called as she stepped into the elevator.
She pressed the fourteenth floor, raising her hand in a wave as the doors slid closed.
Once inside her apartment, she kicked off her boots, took off her gloves and unwrapped
her muffler. Flipping on the light, she yawned. She hung her coat in the hall closet
and as she crossed the living room to the kitchen, the thick pile of the beige carpet
felt welcoming to her cold feet. Seeing her breakfast dishes still in the drying rack
reminded her she hadn’t eaten lunch and as she opened the white cabinet above the
sink to put them away, her stomach growled. She rubbed it in a little circle.
“Okay, okay, let’s see what we have here.” Opening the refrigerator, she peeked in.
“What a sad, sad situation.”
The all but empty shelves held a couple of old carrots, some cottage cheese and a
pint of yogurt. In the back of the top shelf she found some old take-out Chinese that
was growing a science project. Her stomach rumbled again. “Hush! You’re just going
to have to wait ‘till morning. I’ll take you out to breakfast.” A long plaintive protesting
grumble was the only answer.
#
Sarah sat in the restaurant savoring the huge plate of scrambled eggs and potatoes
in front of her. She took her first sip of the strong black coffee in her cup. The
deli was her usual breakfast place.
Many days breakfast was the only meal she had time to eat so she always ate heartily.
The food at Saul’s was simple, delicious. There was plenty of it and it was close
to her office. Today Ruth was her waitress. All of the women working at Saul’s had
been there since the restaurant opened. Several of them had the pinkish hair that
happens when red dye goes over snow white strands. Their uniforms were harvest gold
with brown bib aprons and they all had their name tags pinned to the lacy handkerchiefs
they wore on their lapels.
She lifted her fork to attack the eggs when her cell phone rang. She fully intended
to ignore it until after breakfast but she made the mistake of looking at the caller
ID.
“Colleen. Damn!” She put her fork down then answered the phone. “What’s up?”
“Are you at Saul’s deli?”
“Yes, why?”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes. I need your help.”
“What’s up Colleen?”
“I’ll tell you when I get there.” Suddenly, there was silence.
Sarah replaced the phone on the table. She hurried to finish her breakfast before
Colleen descended on her with more energy than she was ready to deal with on an empty
stomach.
#
“It’s colder than a well digger’s butt in Alaska.” Colleen slid into the booth opposite
Sarah, shaking the melted snow off of her spiky black hair. “In December.” Her dark
rimmed glasses fogged when she came in from the cold. She removed them to clean them
with a napkin lying on the table.
“Maybe if you wore a hat . . . ”
“In a snowstorm.”
Sarah laughed, signaling Ruth to bring her friend a cup of coffee.
“Okay Colleen, what’s up? What was the phone call at midnight
last night?”
“It’s a whole story. Are you in a hurry?” Still cold from her walk to the restaurant,
Colleen rubbed her hands together then looked at her watch. She saw her own brown,
bloodshot eyes reflected in the crystal. The sight reminded her why she was already
on her tenth cup of coffee of the morning. And it was only eight o’clock. “I’ll never
sleep again,” she said as she pulled the mug closer to her, wrapping her cold hands
around the warm ceramic surface.
“What are you talking about? You’re not making any sense.”
“I know; I’ve been up all night. Okay.” Colleen unzipped her jacket. She slipped it
behind her, tucking it around her shoulders as she realized the deli was not as warm
as it normally was. “Are they conserving on energy here or what?” She waved at Ruth
to warm her coffee and gave her a tight lipped smile as the waitress filled her cup
to the very brim.
She muttered under her breath. “Thank you, thank you. Now I’ll burn myself for sure.
And I won’t ask you to fill my cup again.” She looked at Ruth to see if she had been
listening. “Like that wasn’t the plan.”
“C, quit complaining or complain loud enough for Ruth to hear, not just me. Okay?”
“Sorry, just really tired.” Her grin was sheepish. She stirred her coffee for a very
long time before she raised her eyes. She laughed out loud when she saw the scowl
on Ruth’s face.
“Will you please concentrate?” Sarah exhaled loudly in mock exasperation. Colleen
was highly fragmented. Her personality resembled the spikes in her hair. Extremely
intelligent, she was able to handle being all over the place just fine. It was those
around her who might have a bit of trouble.
“Oh. Okay. Well, I wanted to talk to you about this young guy who is one of my parolees.”
She sipped her coffee, made a face then poured more cream into the cup. “This guy
is a special case. He’s
been in and out of trouble since he was in juvenile hall. Now he’s twenty five and
on parole for grand theft auto.” She stirred the coffee, tapped her spoon against
the side of the mug, then put it back on the table. “I caught him carrying a blade.
If I report it, it’s a violation.”
“So?”
“Good coffee here.” Colleen tipped her head toward the mug as she placed it next to
the spoon, pausing only a moment before continuing her original thought. “He’s been
clean for a year, I know that. And he’s really smart. I mean smart, Sarah.” She played
with her napkin for a moment in silence then raised her gaze to meet the eyes of her
friend. “I don’t know what else to do for him.” Her voice had a pleading tone. “I
just can’t reach him. It’s as if he doesn’t care what happens to him.” The look on
her face was one of honest concern.
Sarah knew what Colleen was intimating, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to work with
an ex-con. She hesitated a moment, then spoke. “This is a little out of my line of
expertise if you’re suggesting what I think you are, C.”
Colleen scooted to the edge of the bench seat, “Look Sarah, I’ve read your book and
I think it’s brilliant. I think that maybe if we hit this guy from a different angle,
we may be able to figure out what’s going on with him. I can’t get anything out of
him; he just keeps it all inside.” She drained her cup as she signaled for the waitress
corps to come do their duty. Ruth balked at having to return to the table once again,
but thought better of it. “You get into people’s heads; you know what to say. Maybe
he’ll talk to you.” She smiled. “So, how about a little pro bono work?”
Sarah looked at the check the waitress placed under her mug, pulled her wallet out
of her purse, then slipped her credit card under the bill. “I don’t know Colleen.
I’ve never worked on a case like this one.”
“Why don’t you just meet him? After that, decide what you think. It’s worth a try,
isn’t it? Come on, Sarah.”
“Well, I’m really not sure but I guess there’s no harm in a consultation. Have him
call to make an appointment and we’ll see how it goes. I’m not promising anything.”
Colleen smiled, “Thanks for the coffee.” Sarah nodded returning the grin, glad to
make her friend happy so early in the morning. “And thanks for helping Carlos. His
name is Carlos Havarro.”
“Carlos Havarro, huh? Nice name. I’ll let you know what happens.”
Sarah toyed with her cup a moment before she spoke again. “I had that dream again
last night.”
Colleen leaned forward. “You mean the one where you wake up with the guy standing
in your bedroom?”
“Yeah, except this time he was right next to the bed and he didn’t have a shirt on.
It’s really disconcerting to wake up in a dream in your own bed and still be dreaming.”
“I’ve done that a couple of times. I know what you mean.”
“That’s all. He was just standing there. I just think it’s kind of strange, that’s
all, C.”
“Could you make out who it was this time?”
“No, it’s too dark but I could see an athlete’s torso outlined against the light from
the window. Whoever it is, he’s something to look at.”
Colleen chuckled then spoke. “Sarah, have you and Steve done the deed yet?”
Her friend’s cheeks turned pink as she replied. “No, not yet.”
“For God’s sake, what are you saving it for? You’ve been dating a few months already.
I mean I don’t particularly like the guy but obviously you do.”
“That’s just it. I like him okay but in all the time we’ve been seeing each other,
we’re hardly alone. We’re either on a business
dinner or he’s exhausted from work.” She sipped her coffee. “I just don’t feel I really
know him well enough to sleep with him.”
“Hon, you’re thirty seven years old. You’ve been married and divorced. What in the
hell is wrong with just getting laid?”
“I know I’m a bit provincial.”
Colleen laughed out loud. “A bit?”
“Okay, a lot. I’m just not ready to be vulnerable like that again.”
“Yeah, well Steve reminds me of that narcissistic ex-husband of yours. Knocking boots
with Jeff wasn’t so great and I doubt it’d be any better with Steve.” She slipped
her arms into her jacket sleeves. “Maybe you should just carry on with your dream
man for a while until a hunk with some real blood in his veins comes along”
S
arah walked to the door of her office. Her three-times-a-week assistant, Maggie, was
sitting just outside at her desk with her computer tuned to a shopping site. “Maggie,
do I have a one o’clock or can I go for lunch today?”
Maggie put the roll of oatmeal cookies aside then pulled up the client schedule for
the day. “Sorry Sarah, you do have a one o’clock. It’s Colleen’s little pal, Carlos.”
“That’s right. Did she email his information to us this morning? I left her three
messages yesterday.”
“Yeah, it just came through.”
Sarah looked at her watch. “Great, now I’ve got a whole half hour to read up on him.”
She sighed. “Just put the phone on voice mail and go ahead to lunch. I’ve got the
fort.”
“Thanks.” Maggie shut down her computer, grabbed her purse from her desk drawer, then
headed into the hall.
“Maggie, bring me a salad.” Sarah called after her, hoping she would be heard above
the ding of the elevator. ”Okay. Carlos here I come.” She closed the door going back
to her office and her computer.
Sitting at her desk, she kicked off her shoes. She brought the file onto the screen.
“Ah, Carlos Havarro. Okay, twenty five. In trouble most of his life.” She read in
silence for several minutes then leaned
back in her chair. She gazed at the ceiling thinking how different his case was from
any she had worked on before. Would she be able to help him? Would he open up to her?
She understood anger management, but his wasn’t the usual textbook case.
Suddenly Maggie stepped though her door wearing a huge smile. “Sarah, I just got back
and there’s a young guy outside. He’s the infamous Carlos and he is gorgeous.”
“Maggie, don’t worry about his gorgeousness. Just ask him to come in.” She slipped
her feet back into her high heels.
When Carlos walked through the door, Sarah was surprised. He didn’t look like a convict.
In fact, he was indeed gorgeous. Tall with black silky hair. Eyes so dark they had
a purple cast to them, eyelashes so long and thick they looked like brushes. His cheekbones
were strong and high, his skin, golden. His lips were indescribable, thick, shapely
and smooth with a perfect cupid’s bow. How could the face of a Botticelli angel be
in so much trouble?
“Hi Carlos. I’m Sarah. Come in and have a seat.” Appearing more confident than she
felt, she shook his hand then directed him to sit in the consultation area. The seating
space was designed to feel like a living room. A few chairs, a coffee table and small
sofa created a comfortable, homelike atmosphere. Her clients opened up more readily
when there wasn’t a desk separating them from her.
He moved to one of the wing back chairs. He sat slumped down with his legs straddled,
his hands folded in his lap. He wore torn baggy jeans and a black leather jacket over
a hooded black sweatshirt. He rested his elbows on the arms of the chair He looked
Sarah directly in the eye. “So what do we do now?”