Possessing Morgan:
A Matter of Conviction
by Aurelia
Part 12
See Part 1 for Disclaimers
Chapter 12
Morgan watched Andrea walk with the old lady back towards where the mounted officer was waiting with his charge, intent on getting her back with her handbag. If the woman was like any other elderly person in New York City her life savings were probably in that bag. She observed the two of them talking, fingers flying continuously in the air. Just when she thought she had figured out the counselor she found another layer underneath, revealing another facet to the already complicated personality. She couldn’t help but wonder how many more layers there were to uncover.
During her introspection she didn’t realize that the small blonde had slowed her walk and was now walking beside her. “Hey there. That was some pretty impressive police work, Sergeant.”
“Nah. Just a little light exercise.” Her chest puffed out at the compliment. “I eat perps like him for lunch.” Aww God, why did I try to be 'cute'? Now she thinks I’m a total idiot.
“With everything or just ketchup?”
“Ha ha. My, my, we are full of quips today, aren’t we?” Okay, that sounded better. Quips is a good word. I think my I.Q. just jumped ten points.
“Yes, we are.”
“I’m sorry about this. I’ll need to file a report at the station before we continue, and you could probably help with the woman’s statement, but after that what do you want to do?”
“I don’t know. This is your town, not mine.”
“Well, there’s the Metropolitan.” Make that twenty points…
“There is?”
“Sure, it’s up towards the Great Lawn on the other side of the lake, so we can head in that direction.”
After the visit to the Central Park Police Precinct, they picked up their walk where they had left off. “Ummm…” Morgan sweated. Is it a date? She’s gonna think it’s a date. It is a date, isn’t it? Damn… it is. “The New York Philharmonic gives a couple of free concerts in the park in summer. I… I was wondering if you’d like to go.”
“You’re not worried about being seen with me?” Andrea figured the woman was past that but she couldn’t help getting her own barb in.
“You’re not going to let me forget that, are you?”
“Last one. I promise.” The counselor looked up at Morgan, a gentle smile indicating she harbored no ill will. “Sure. That sounds great. Just let me know when.”
“You’re not worried about Joel misconstruing it as a date?”
“You should be more worried about me misconstruing it as a date.”
But the tall redhead didn’t answer that, leaving Andrea to wonder what exactly the invitation was. Maybe it was a date without it being called a date. Only time would tell.
* * *
The last time Morgan had been to this museum she was still in pigtails. Her family was not really the museum-visiting type. There were more important things to do with her dad, like going to watch the Yankees play. That was a hell of a lot more fun than looking at dry paint hanging on a wall.
Despite not being a connoisseur of art Morgan enjoyed the museum, but she figured that may be because of the company more than the art. Andrea led her around, talking about this painting and that, doing enough talking to cover Morgan’s silence, for which she was forever grateful. There was no way she was going to open her mouth to show her ignorance, but she was content to enjoy this time just existing in the presence of this woman. She had never felt so comfortable like this around someone before, except for her father of course. This was… so... so very...nice.
* * *
By the time they had finished at the museum and wandered idly around the lakes eating ice cream, the sky was slowly darkening towards twilight, the sun kissing the clouds with an orange tinge before its departure for the day.
Returning to the hotel they stood at Andrea’s door, facing one another in indecision. “Well, I guess it’s time I made my way home. Thank you for a very nice day, Andrea.”
She stepped backward but a firm hand grabbed her wrist. “Please…” The pleading whisper made her stop. “Please, don’t leave me. I don’t want to be alone.” Morgan looked down into Andrea’s eyes, reading a need that she herself felt. She didn’t want to be alone either.
“What did you have in mind?” She murmured, putting a lot of power in the hands of the small blonde.
The counselor couldn’t help but smile. “My choice? That’s asking for trouble, isn’t it?” She saw the withdrawal in the detective’s eyes, the water once again slipping through the sand’s fingers to return to the ocean. “Dinner. Please, I’m so tired of being alone.”
“What about Joel? I’m sure he would come if you call.”
“I’m sure he would, but it’s not Joel’s company that I want.” The redhead eyed the counselor warily. “I just don’t want this day to end just yet. Dinner down in the restaurant. Please.”
It was not a good idea, she knew that, but that last please buried itself deep within her. If she was honest with herself, she didn’t want the day to end either. For the moment being in Andrea’s company was like breathing air, essential to her wellbeing, and she was unable to stop herself agreeing to the request.
Morgan was thankful that Andrea didn’t change her clothes because she felt like a wolf in a pack of sheep. Elegance surrounded her as she sat in her jeans and T-shirt. If it wasn’t for the counselor’s presence she figured she would be sitting on the sidewalk by now.
“Will you stop doing that?”
“What did I do now?”
“Don’t think I can’t see you checking out what everyone is wearing. It’s fine.”
“Really? Did you see the look the maitre d’ gave me?”
“I’m wearing the same as you and he didn’t even give me a second glance.”
“Andrea, you have a room here, I don’t. I’m sure if you had turned your back I would have been spirited away like Jimmy Hoffa, my head buried in the large dumpster outside the kitchen. Don’t underestimate your influence here.”
“Hmmm, probably my name,” she mumbled.
Morgan mentally slapped her head, all the while sitting there smiling at the small woman benevolently. Well, d’uh. She felt the social gap widen between them as Andrea ordered a wine… by name… in French. Her confidence dropped. Who was she kidding? She couldn’t even order a bottle of wine in English.
Andrea watched the redhead in her peripheral vision, noting the slight slump of the shoulders as she talked to the waiter. Damn. She realized her mistake too late. It would seem like she was slapping the woman in the face with her wealth. This was supposed to be a dinner to reinforce their friendship but instead it seemed to be putting one more nail into the failure of that same friendship. She couldn’t win.
“I wanted to say that I really enjoyed today. Even the laundry.”
“Oh, come on. You have maids to do that.”
“Not all those years I spent in college I didn’t. If it had been allowed I’m sure mother would have sent along one to clean up after me, but I fended very well for myself, thank you very much.” She looked at the skeptical look in those green eyes. “You still think of me as snooty rich bitch, don’t you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Her words said one thing but her eyes said different.
“Yes, you do. You don’t think I belong in your world, do you? Your opinion of me hasn’t changed at all!” Agitation laced Andrea’s words, upset that Morgan had made up her mind once and for all.
“That’s not true, and you know it!”
“Oh yeah? ‘You have maids to do that.’ What sort of crack is that?”
“A true one?”
“That’s right. Throw my parents’ money back in my face.”
“I’m the one that should be upset. Look around you, Andrea. Are you doing this to rub it in my face?” Morgan had lost the plot, coming out of her corner verbally swinging her fists.
“Calm down, Morgan. I just wanted a quiet dinner with you, nothing more.”
“Nothing? Do you know how uncomfortable this is making me feel?”
“Why are you getting so upset over this? It’s just dinner.”
“It’s not just dinner and you know it! You’re up here…” she lifted her hand over her head, “…and I’m down here.” She moved her hand downward to nearly touch the floor.
“Is it so hard for us both to be here?” Andrea lifted her hand halfway, indicating a compromise.
“I think it is.”
“It’s not, unless you want it to be.” There was silence from across the table. “Do… do you want it to be?” Suddenly everything was shifting, her confidence in the tall woman shaken to the core. “What is going on here?”
“I've always known you were loaded. Somehow I was able to ignore it but this… this I can’t handle.”
“Let’s find somewhere else to eat then. I don’t mind. Please… please don’t do this.” She knew where this was heading.
“It’s too late, Andrea. Everywhere we go now I will think of this. The Lady and Tramp.”
“We’re two dogs now? I didn’t say you were that scruffy looking, but hey it’s cute.” Andrea’s attempt at levity fell flat. “Oh, come on now. It’s not that serious. Why is this so important to you?”
“Never mind.”
“No! If you’re going to do this I want to know. I at least deserve an explanation.” Andrea grimly hung onto her emotions, focusing herself on the why.
“You have never had to struggle financially from day to day, have you?”
“But you’re not that now. You told me so.”
“After my mom died, dad had to raise us four kids. A man working full time with four kids, do you know how hard that was?”
“Pretty hard, I imagine.”
“No shit! We drained him, I know that. He worked very hard to keep us clothed and fed. The moment they were able to my brothers left to find their own careers. Abandoned him… abandoned me. The selfish bastards left me alone to look after him. I was barely out of the police academy when he was medically retired.”
“Is that why you never talk about them? Did you resent being in that position?”
“No…” Morgan sighed, letting her anger bleed off. “I loved my dad. He was a wonderful man and I would have looked after him anyway. No, it was the fact that I didn’t even know they were going until they were gone.” Her eyes wandered down to her shaking hand. “I suppose I could have forgiven them for that except that I never heard from them after that. I don’t even know if they became successes in their chosen professions, or whether they got married and had kids. I got no support from them at all, not financially or emotionally. It was as if they had written their own childhoods out of their minds. I never forgot where I came from… my roots… my home.”
“So you hate all successful people, is that it? Am I being measured against what your brothers did?”
“No!” Morgan thought for a moment. Had she? Her mind was not clear enough to sort through the mire of information.
“Come on, Morgan. Let’s not fight… please!” Andrea was fast losing control of the situation and if she didn’t stop it now the day would be a complete disaster.
“No! I just can’t do this at the moment.” The detective stood up, staring down to the seated blonde. “Go back to your fiancé, Counselor,” she murmured with finality, the words slipping past her lips involuntarily. She really didn’t want to do this, she knew that, but somehow a part of her mind was on a rescue mission to save her from her own heartache.
Pain lanced through her chest as Andrea watched the tall woman walk away, defeat evident in every step. She slumped in her chair trying valiantly to hold herself together until she reached her room. After that, she just knew she would need to order another box of Kleenex.
“Is madam ready to order?”
“I’m sorry. Dinner has been cancelled.” Just like my life…
* * *
Outside the hotel Morgan slumped against the wall of the building. What on earth possessed her to lash out like that? She knew… her pride. She didn’t want to become a rich woman’s plaything. It was a stupid notion, she understood that, but emotion and ego were ruling right now and they overruled her logic. It had come to pass as she had been afraid it would, not even making the connection that she herself was the cause of her own pain. She could sense those jagged rocks below coming at her at frightening speed and she was about to be impaled on her own misery.
* * *
Andrea barely made it back to her hotel room before the tears fell. How could something so right all of a sudden go so horribly wrong? She collapsed clumsily on the bed, burying her head in the pillow and let the sadness roll over her. What was she going to do now?
The phone rang, its shrill ring grating on her sensitive emotions like sandpaper on her soft skin. “Hello?” Her voice was barely recognizable.
“Andrea? Honey?” Joel was the last person she wanted to hear from right now but her upbringing wouldn’t let her hang up on him.
“Joel.” The voice held very little warmth or enthusiasm for that name.
“What’s wrong? What happened?”
“Nothing, Joel. It’s just been a long day and I’m tired.” And broken…
“C’mon, sugar. Tell me what's wrong and I'll kiss it and make it all better."
“I just had a fight with a co-worker, that’s all.”
“Co-worker? You were working today?”
Oh shit… “Yeah, I have to spend all weekend preparing for a case on Monday.” That was half-true. She had put aside tomorrow for that job. Now she was lying to Joel. She was getting sick of all the half-truths, lies and double meanings that had ruled her life lately. Why can’t people say what they mean instead of burying it in innuendo?
“What can I do to cheer you up, honey?”
“Nothing Joel. I think I’ll just crawl into bed and get some sleep.”
“I don’t know if you realize this but it’s only seven p.m.”
“Is it? It seems a lot later to me.” She was just compounding the lie with another one, and another one, until the truth would be a distant memory. The confession sat on the tip of her tongue and she was so tempted to just blurt it out and let the cards drop where they may. Of course, she could end up with nothing. No Morgan. No Joel. No life. For the moment, she kept her secret.
“Look, honey, I’m developing a headache here. I’m going to take some Tylenol and go to bed. Can I talk to you later?”
“Sure, sweetheart. I was just touching base with you. Everything is progressing well here but it’s still going to be a while before the final move.”
“That’s good, honey. I’ll talk to you soon.” She hung up on him before he could utter another word. That was surely going to need an explanation next time. Andrea took her Tylenols and changed for bed, hoping the analgesics could deaden her pain. She just knew sleep was going to evade her tonight.
She rose and moved to her suitcase, reaching into the side pocket. Extracting a photo, Andrea returned to the bed, lying on her side to study the picture. A small finger ran over the glossy surface, tracing the tiny face there. It was a picture of herself with a toddler. “My angel…”
* * *
Morgan cursed and muttered all the way home, angrily ignoring a pesky subway passenger who was trying to pick her up. Luckily he took the hint before she drew her weapon, giving up on the woman who sported a look like she had sucked on a lemon. Broads…
If she had both hands she would have found a gym and pounded out her anger on a punching bag. Instead she went home and pounded out her frustration on her mattress, pushing herself to exhaustion and tears. What was the matter with her? What had she done? Was it the last desperate act of her independence? Somehow she suspected that she had succeeded.
Sleep did nothing to improve Morgan’s disposition in the morning, tossing and turning at a frantic pace most of the night until she couldn’t hold sleep at bay anymore. With sleep came dreams, and with dreams came revelations. Did she really want to face the fact that she had given up the best thing to come into her life? Probably not…
* * *
Andrea looked at herself in the mirror the next morning, not surprised to see some old hag looking back at her. Puffy eyes and flushed skin made her face look swollen while her hair stood out on end. She stripped down and stood in the hot shower, allowing the cleansing water to wash away her sadness, her tears and the scent of Morgan. It wasn’t until she stepped out of the shower recess that she realized that Morgan still clung to her. The woman was inside her, every sense remembering her ghostly remains. Washing away what was developing and what could have been wasn’t going to happen with a simple shower. Yesterday she would have shouted with joy. Today… today all it brought was an ache to her heart.
Andrea knew it was useless to hang around the hotel room, settling for going in to work to do her research. All the reference material was there and she knew she had to go sometime. There was nothing to keep her here now.
* * *
Morgan cleaned, tidied, moved, juggled and put away, but nothing cured her restlessness. Neither the TV or a video game keep her interest for long. She knew where her mind was. It was back in that hotel room where she would be taking the young woman out for the day. Desperately she wanted yesterday again, strolling in the sunshine with the counselor talking about inconsequential things and learning about each other. She cursed under her breath. It was all ruined… or was it? Could she save this? Should she save this?
Sitting at the kitchen table with a coffee in hand, Morgan stood and moved to the window, climbing through it to sit on the fire escape. It was always a good spot to make life altering decisions, and this was certainly one of those. She had to stop all this indecision and make a decision. The counselor was right… she deserved an answer.
Morgan watched the light shift as the sun made its journey across the sky, her mind finally returning when the sun was directly overhead. Time had drifted by as she examined her life and her decisions, finally coming to one more important decision, one that she needed to tell someone.
The detective climbed through the window with purpose. Time for some humble entreaty I think, and maybe a little serious begging. Hmmm… and some flowers too.
* * *
Morgan stood outside the counselor’s hotel room, disappointed to find the woman was not there. She slid down the wall until she was seated on the carpet, a small bouquet of flowers sitting clenched in her one good hand. She looked one way, then the other, checking out the corridors in the hope of seeing the small woman return. Where was she?
* * *
Andrea tried, really tried, to concentrate on the case at hand but her mind refused to think of anything but Morgan. She had made a little headway in the case, but not as much as she had hoped she would. Finally giving up the exercise as a waste of time she headed towards the hotel, her emotions sinking lower and lower with each step towards home. As she traveled up in the elevator fleeting thoughts of returning to Charleston entered her head.
The ding of the elevator doors drew her attention to the corridor and the lone figure sitting slumped in it. She ran. She ran as if her life depended on it. Sad green eyes rose to meet hers as she approached, communicating a need and an ache that she herself felt. “Oh God, are you alright?” Andrea released her breath as the seated figure nodded. “What are you doing here?” She offered her hand, feeling the warmth of the large hand enveloping hers.
“I came to see you.” Andrea’s eyes dropped to the flowers, taking in the gentle shake of the nervous hand. “I came to apologize. As you can see, I’m pretty messed up.”
“Yes, you are. But you have potential.” Andrea gently smiled at Morgan, trying to bridge the gap.
“I do? I thought you would have given up on me. I was pretty rough on you last night.”
“Yes, you were, but it proved something to me.” Andrea made her wait, taking in the inquiring eyebrow before answering. “I’m miserable without you, Detective.”
“Yeah?” Morgan barely spoke as the words sunk in. “You took the words right out of my mouth. I’m finding that I can’t stay away. My heart won’t let me.”
“Get in here. This conversation is not for the general public.” Andrea swiped her keycard, waiting for the click before pushing. Her handbag landed clumsily on the bed, the contents spilling out across the flowery bedspread. Her briefcase stood idly near her suitcase, destined to stay there until tomorrow. She had intended on dragging out the papers and trying one more time to absorb the information for court, but somehow that wasn’t important right now.
“These are for you…” Morgan’s voice dropped to a whisper, uncertainty lacing them.
“They are beautiful, Morgan. Thank you.” The counselor looked up shyly to the detective’s freckled face, taking in the tension. The woman was terrified of rejection, it was written in the bowed body trying to stand negligently before her. If Morgan was any more rigid she would have snapped. There was no vase that she could see, so Andrea settled for the bathroom sink for the moment.
“You know, I have my appetite back. You want to join me for dinner?” This was tricky, but the blonde didn’t want Morgan to be afraid of them. She was going to get the woman back on that horse.
“Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“You don’t trust me?” She saw Morgan tremble as if waiting for a slap. “Come on. I’ll protect you from the big bad world.” She extended her hand, grabbing the large hand in her own and dragging Morgan out the door before she could react.
The elevator ride was nerve wracking and Andrea could have cut the air with a knife.
Andrea could sense Morgan’s apprehension. That damned elevator muzak playing in the background put her own senses on edge. Just as they reached the door of the dining room Andrea kept going, pulling the stunned woman with her. They stepped out the door onto the street, turning left to walk down the sidewalk.
“Where are we going?”
“To a restaurant. I’m hungry.”
“But… but…”
“Butt, yes you have a very nice one but I’ve got to eat right now.”
The quips were back, Morgan sighed with relief. Things looked like they would be okay. “I’ve got no idea where we're going. Do you?”
“Of course.” But they both knew that Andrea’s knowledge of New York City could fill a postage stamp. The detective made sure she kept track of where they were going. She figured she would need those directions pretty soon.
Morgan continued to walk, not realizing that Andrea had stopped. She looked back to see the woman’s head cocked to one side, a gentle smile gracing her delicate features. The detective looked up, her eyes widening as she realized where they had stopped. “Here?”
“Yes. It's world famous I know, but I think I can get us a table.” She couldn’t help but smile when she heard the quiet chuckle of her companion, ecstatic to finally see those dimples make an appearance again.
“Well, if this is where you want to eat… madam.” Morgan’s arm swung in a flourish, allowing the small woman to precede her. Her heart soared as memories of last night were washing away. She knew what the two of them had was fragile, easily broken with an errant word or a misconstrued action. But still… it felt so very good... and so very right.
“Two Big Mac #1's....and Super Size them please…”
Feedback is always appreciated. You can contact me at aurelia_fan@yahoo.com.au