Simply Friends (6) “Ted isn’t coming today,” Ben answered. “Really?” Kim said putting menus in front of them. “Business I suppose. They’ve got him running like crazy.” “No,” Ben said, catching Janice’s eye. “Ted is sick.” “Sick?” Kim’s voice raised in surprise. “I just saw him on Thursday. He was going to go out to the mountains and relax and spend Friday and Saturday resting.” The attorneys glanced at each other. Thursday had been harrowing. Janice remembered helping Beth back to the hotel and staying with her to calm her down after she had broken down on the witness stand. Ted had been a little rattled, too but Janice knew because she had talked to him this morning that Ted wasn’t faking his illness. He had too much integrity for that. “Came on suddenly,” Ben said. “He asked Janice to take over the cross examinations this week and prep the witnesses. Seems he’s confined to bed. High fever. Headache. Cough.” “He’s pretty sick,” Janice confirmed. “He asked me to run things so we’re here to meet and plan strategy.” “Unfortunately,” Ben said trying not to sound too exhausted, “Ted got hit with this year’s flu bug. It’s hitting De Moine like crazy. And well he’s the latest to get it. Timing isn’t so great. We all miss Ted,” Ben said wistfully. “This particular strain isn’t gentle. Maybe he needs someone to check on him.” 2 A shrill ringing summoned Ted Hamilton from a far away place and he groped for the telephone to silence it. His bed seemed too big for him, blankets strewn on it, a sheet at his feet, he seemed to search forever through the change, pencils, id cards, a credit card, and a watch on his nightstand for the offending instrument. It rang in his hand. “Hello,” he choked in a wheezing breath. “Ted.” He heard a woman’s voice but in his fevered brain it barely registered. “Ted," said the voice, "it’s Kim. Kim Hemming.” She could hear his labored breathing.” Ted lay on his back not bothering to sit up. It would take too much energy. “Kim,” he wheezed again. “Oh, Kimberly, I’m sorry. I am ill.” “Ben told me. What do you need, honey? I’m coming to see you today. To make sure you’re okay. You don’t sound okay.” “I’m not,” he admitted. “I need sleep. It’s the only thing that helps about now.” “How long have you been like this?” “Today. Can’t sleep. Can’t eat. Can’t hardly get out of bed. At least not for long. God, Kim, what time is it?” “It’s 10:00 AM, honey. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Ted desperately wanted to go back to sleep. If he went to sleep he wouldn’t feel so feverish and sick. “Kim. There’s a key in the mailbox. Get it and let yourself in. It feels good to sleep.” Back in the bustling kitchen, Kim approached Angie Jones, her right hand. “Angie,” she took her aside. “I need you to do me a huge favor. Joe will probably kill me but I need to take some time off, to go check on Ted. He sounds sick.” Angie wiped her perspiring face with a towel. She smiled a little. “Kim,” Angie said, knowing Kim was right, “he’ll be fine. “go on over. He probably does need someone to fetch and carry for him. And we know if he’ll take fetching and carrying from anyone it’s you. He respects you.” Kim turned her economy car onto Flowing Stream Lane and directed it carefully into Ted’s long driveway and turned off the engine, noting the silence, the cool morning, the solitude of an early Sunday morning that promised great comfort or just relaxing moments when one required a respite from more harrowing tasks. She got out and looked around her, short grass, neatly groomed plants, no fence, a neat cobblestone pathway to the front of the house offset from the street. She remembered years ago when Ted had first seen this place. He had flourished here and so had the house. She balanced her bags in her hands and took a look around for Ted’s car. She found it and then made her way up the path to the front porch. The swing moved gently in a light breeze, a watering can sat on a small wooden shelf just to the right of the front door. She looked around for the mailbox and found it, a small box inset into the door. She pulled out a pile of mail and felt toward the bottom, her fingers touching the key. She opened the door into the dark quiet of the house. The sudden movement of the door and perhaps the strange shadow that fell across the floor scared Ted’s black and white cat. She watched Snooty flea across the wooden kitchen floor. “Hey kitty,” she cooed soothingly, “it’s ok. It’s Kim. Your friend. Where’s your friend Ted? Are you taking care of him? I bet you need feeding.” Snooty, the cat, stood at the door as if listening to her, his ears pricked up. He walked a few steps into the living room then fled the other way. Kim laughed. “Oh, baby. You’re just like a man. Get close and then run away. Lets go see how Ted is doing.” The place was quiet and dark, but, Kim thought, as she glanced quickly around, in good working order. Ted didn’t have much time for chaos. At least if he was sick in bed he wouldn’t have to worry about his house going to the dogs, or the cats. She smiled in amusement. Everything was in its place. He had been getting ready to go to work on Monday morning. His trial bag stood in a corner, his car keys hung on a nail next to a bookcase. She remembered Ted’s joy when she had helped him find this house. So many times he had retreated here to heal; after his failed marriage, his mother’s death, his accident, and now once again, here it was to comfort him. She looked around at the landscapes on the walls and was impressed once again by Ted’s neatness. Making her way through the living room, she deposited some grocery bags in the kitchen, some chicken soup, some crackers, apple sauce, orange juice, some food for sandwiches. He had not asked for any of these things but Kim knew that he would need them. Making her way to the hallway, she saw his bedroom with an open door and looked in. She felt a little awkward but quickly entered and saw that He lay unmoving on his bed, clothes spread on the floor. She noticed a good suit crumpled in a corner. She gasped a little for she had never seen Ted’s clothes rumpled. She went into the room and picked up the clothes, putting them in the closet, hanging them up neatly. He did not stir. She came over to the bed, and looked down at his face. She did not know that he had slept for an hour, it had been the first real hour of sleep he had gotten since waking up this morning with a fever and headache. His body seemed to hug the bed, his head eased against the pillows as if moving it would disturb the order of the universe. Ted Hamilton, six feet tall and 188 pounds, at this moment, looked small and fragile. He turned, propped himself up, and looked around him. He thrust the blankets off him, exposing his body to the cool air. He shivered and then Kim approached and wiped sweat from his face. “Fever broke,” she said to him, now holding the limp hand that lay on the beige bedspread. She would get a file and file down his nails. She rested his hand in her’s and his eyes opened slowly. He did not pull his hand away. He did not sit up. Kim lay her cool hand on his forehead. “Ted, honey,” she said gently, “it’s Kim. Don’t worry about anything.” “Thanks,” he said, “too sick to worry. She held out some capsules to him and he took them curiously. “Can you take medicine? It might ease you just a bit. Ted, where did you get this? Everyone’s worried about you. “Thanks,” he said taking the capsules and the cup and letting his fingers rest on hers for a moment, “this just came on suddenly. Probably got it from someone in the court.” Quietly she took the extra blankets and folded them at his feet. She smiled a little, she knew that Snooty would climb up there and make one of them his home. Cats could be amazingly loyal some days. She watched her friends’ eyes flutter and then watched as he curled back into his comforting sleeping pose. She pulled the single sheet and light blanket over his shoulder and laid her hand on his cheek. She caressed it and pushed his straggling, wet hair from his forehead. Ted remembered the stressful moment on Thursday when Judge Owens had recessed court and he had escaped to the office for a moment. He remembered rubbing his eyes and wondered if that had been the moment when he had incubated this bug. He suddenly felt weak and now put his hand to his head and rubbed it, trying to ease his headache, overwhelmingly exhausted. Thursday seemed far away from this day. Now as Kim covered him gently with the sheet, he surrendered to the fever again and didn’t care. 3 “He’s down for the count,” Kim told her friend Angie. She had walked out of Ted’s room into the kitchen to use her cell phone. Ted had asked her just before the Tylenol Pm lulled him back into sleep to please feed the cat. Now she talked to Angie and searched through the somewhat cluttered pantry to find the cat food. At her feet, Snooty meowed and pranced, jumping up the cabinet in his excitement. “He’s sick and asleep. I’m going to stay with him. Listen Angie I appreciate this. I’m going to pay you double time tomorrow. Don’t tell anyone, honey it’s our compensation. Ted has a case to try and well…” “I know,” Angie interrupted. “You love him. You know it and well you don’t want him languishing by himself. Snooty can’t fetch and carry.” Kim laughed at that. “Angie, you’re great. I’ll go searching through Ted’s library for reading material and I’ll work on my loan proposal. I brought my laptop I never leave home without it.” “Speaking of money, Kim, don’t…” “No, Angie,” Kim said. “We’ll make it. I’m paying you double tomorrow. I’d rather do that than worry about Ted. Money will come. Wait and see.” Worrying about money was something that Kim did well. Before she could worry about the state of her restaurant’s finances there were things to get done. First she did a survey of the house. She put away anything that seemed to be out of place though there wasn’t much. There was, however, quite a load of laundry that could probably turn into two loads. She sorted through the piles of clothes, shirts, pants, underwear, a woman’s nightgown. She looked in confusion at this item. And decided not to ask. Since Ted’s failed marriage she hadn’t known him to have any kind of romantic relationships, but it was his life and she never asked and he had never mentioned anyone. Maybe, she thought, it was his daughter’s. She smiled a little, once again looking at the lace and frills. It did look too small for an older woman, it had to be Andrea’s or Melanie’s. She lifted the frilly thing and put it in a pile. She got to work and did her best to make his life just a little bit easier. Kim sat at Ted’s kitchen table peering at the screen of her laptop. The fluid words were dim in the early evening light. The house was quiet except for Snooty’s meowing from time to time and the clicking off and on of the refrigerator and the forced air heating system. But she was not thinking of those things. IN the chill of late Sunday evening, while outside the world settled down and grew cold and moisture congealed into frost, she thought about money. She didn’t know if worrying was quite what she did. Kim’s Café wasn’t going broke or anything. She was looking for a loan to invest so that the restaurant could have a cushion against troubled economic times. She pored over the document on the screen, filling in the proper information and wondered if she should submit the application. It was a silly thing to worry about, she thought. Of course Kim’s Cafe would make it. They had been in business for 25 years and they had always managed. Now they managed to bring in enough customers and their funds collecting interest were doing pretty well. But it wasn’t comfortable enough for her. She needed another layer of security. It was just something she worried about from time to time and now on the screen of her laptop sat another application from a bank. She had good credit. She had some catering possibilities around the bend and so she wondered if taking out the loan would be a good idea. “Why don’t you turn on the light, Kim.” Kim started as Ted’s voice broke the silence. He stood behind her, sniffling. He laughed a little and laid his hand on her shoulder she could feel its warmth. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” “Ted, you’re out of bed.” She turned to look at him. He stood barefoot in t-shirt and boxer shorts, fragile, his face flushed. He tried to smile but it hurt too much. “Fifteen minutes,” he croaked. “Just enough time to get tea and find something for my head.” “Oh,” she said getting up and coming to where he stood. “I’m sorry I didn’t leave the medicine on your nightstand. I gave you some earlier. Did it help?” “Probably,” he said taking the bottle out of her hand. “It’s awful I don’t know if I can really tell.” She rubbed his back and returned to her spot. Silence passed between them for a moment. “Do you want some light?” he asked again. “No,” she said gently. “I can see just fine.” “What are you working on, Kim?” he asked into the comfortable silence. “Thinking about taking out a loan,” she explained. Ted sat down across from her and rapped his hands around the hot steaming mug. He sipped the hot, lemony liquid and let it ease down his throat. His feverish gaze rested on Kim’s laptop. “are you in trouble with money?” “I’m working on a loan proposal.” It was comforting somehow to even just mention it to him. “You didn’t answer my question,” he remonstrated. “What question, honey?” she looked up, distracted. “Trouble with money,” he repeated, all the energy out of his voice. Suddenly Kim had a picture of Ted standing in the courtroom looking at someone on the stand with those flashing blue eyes and gesturing and saying “trouble with money!” What a contrast, this diminished version of a man wanting an answer to a simple question. He sat back, waiting. “No trouble with money,” she said wearily. “No trouble.” Ted rubbed his temples as if this were all too much for him. “Don’t worry, Ted,” she said seeing his misery. “The restaurant is fine. I’m just planning ahead.” “Good girl,” he replied and sat back in his chair. Ted wanted to help Kim with her investments. They had been friends for over twenty years, since they were both just out of high school. He thought that his friendship with Kim was one of the most rewarding experiences he had in his life. Even now when he wasn’t at his best and he was clearheaded only for a short time he was comfortable in her presence. “Can I help?” he asked her now. “With money I mean?” “I don’t want to trouble you about it, Ted,” she said as he caught her gaze, but somehow she knew it was no trouble. She concentrated on the application before her and wondered what he might do. “Oh, Ted,” she finally said, letting it poor out of her, “This is the part I don’t’ like; trying to keep us solvent and plan ahead. I’d rather have someone else do it. Investing is not my forte, but I give it my best.” “How much do you need,” he asked tentatively. “At these rates?” she said. “Probably about ten thousand.” “Why don’t you talk to my broker, Kim. He’s not a risk taker. He can help you out.” “yeah,” she said. “I probably will.” “Okay,” he said and got up. He put his hand to his head and leaned on the table. Kim got up and came to him, slipping an arm about him. “Just got dizzy,” he said. “I’ll be okay.” “Go back to bed, Ted,” she said to him. “Everything is good here. I’ll finish this up and see how you’re doing. You aren’t feeling well. Just go and rest. All this stuff will work out. Let’s just get through tonight.” Ted who had never imagined himself needing looking after suddenly just thought that was the best thing he could do and so he made his way back to his room and left Kim with her dilemma. 4 U.S. Verses Michael Jameson resumed session on Monday morning. Beth unconsciously looked around for Ted Hamilton. Janice had told her that the prosecutor was ill he wouldn’t be in today perhaps not the rest of the week. Judge Owens had granted that he was absent but wanted a doctors note after three days. Janice knew from her own experience and from Kim’s email describing Ted’s rough night, that someone would be taking him to get one. Janice knew that Beth counted on him. He was a comfort to her spirits. Janice, Ted’s long timed colleague and friend hoped Ted would be better, soon. Everyone would miss him but they had a job to do and because of his hard work and dedication to this case, they would do it right. At 9:00 AM, when judge Owens gaveled the proceedings to order, Ted Hamilton was asleep. After a rough night of high fever and delirium, he had briefly scanned the headlines. They informed him that the lead prosecutor in the Jameson case was down with the flu bug that was sweeping the country. Lacking information about the case, reporters went into great detail about influenza, what it was, what it did, even tracing the history of the cause and treatment of the disease going back to the 1920s. Some more discrete reporters not wishing to take advantage of Ted’s indisposition, wrote that Janice Cross had taken over his duties today and maybe for the rest of the week. He was lucky, they wrote. She was a first rate prosecutor, some said maybe in line to be the next U.S. attorney, that is if she didn’t get pushed out by Ted Hamilton whose own record was impressive in its own right. Some wondered if the case would undergo a new strategy but as her boss had done, Janice Cross didn’t give the reporters any inkling of her plans. Having nothing more to go on, the discrete reporters quoted the defense team as saying they wished him well. It was all very civil. Now Ted dutifully like a good patient or a sick man went back to bed. Whatever the press wrote about him, the fact remained that his fever was persistent and his headache severe. The last thought he had before falling asleep was that he hoped Beth would do better today than she had on Friday. He closed his eyes and curled into a protective cocoon. If Janice Cross was with Beth today, she would be fine. On the second day, Ben Meadows examined one of the defense’s witnesses. they were harrowing moments for everyone. They were moments that if Ted had been in the courtroom would have made even the veteran attorney flinch. Ben was steely and hard, tenacious, pulling the straying witness again and again back to the finer points of his testimony, disputing it at every turn. As the emotionally charged atmosphere lengthened and judge Owens recessed the court, Ted lay sopping wet, the fever having broken yet again. He was propped up by pillows to help ease his deepening cough, for the moment relieved of his persistent headache. He was far from caring that Ben was about to clench the case for the U.S. government. He was far from caring that as they paced the halls and went to council chambers, Beth was in her hotel room reading her bible. As the court returned into session and Ben finished his questioning, Ted caught his breath for a cough that left him weak and breathless. He reached over to his nightstand, swallowed some medicine as a defense against the headache he knew would return, closed his eyes and fell asleep. It would be another day before he could even think about getting out of bed for more than a few minutes at a time. As Ben returned to the council table and Janice questioned the next witness, Snooty, Ted’s faithful cat, climbed up beside him and curled up against his hip and put his head on Ted’s back. Wednesday morning was quieter in the federal court where the Jameson case was being tried. Attorneys filed into the room, the judge took his seat, the jury was ushered in and settled into their places. A wrestling could be heard in the quiet room as the last of the spectators took their places and journalists took out their notebooks and their laptops and wondered how the day would go today. While this went on, Ted woke slowly. If he had looked out his drawn blinds he would have seen that on this day dark, stormy clouds blanketed the sky. Finally sleeping through the night, he did not notice that the wind had howled fiercely, bringing in the approaching storm. Ted didn’t realize that he was lucky to have his house in order, the windows and doors snug, the cat fed. They would see rain, soon. But he didn’t look out the window. He woke slowly and gaged his surroundings. Could he discern where he was? Did his head hurt? It did. It seemed to him that the cough had only grown worse, that in addition to his head and joints hurting his ribs hurt, too. Part of him wondered if he was a hypochondriac, but, no, this was serious and there was something in his head that reminded him that judge Owens wanted a doctor’s note. A doctor’s note? He had slept soundly most of two days while Beth was questioned and while Ben meadows did his duty and Janice Cross organized everything. He wondered in the back of a cottony fog if she had tried to contact him. The lead federal prosecutor had done one wise thing on Monday morning and it was only now that he had remembered it. Ted Hamilton had quietly reached over to the telephone on the nightstand and switched off the ringer. In his room he wouldn’t hear the phone in the office so he hadn’t bothered to turn that one off. Now he slowly got out of bed. He could stand, that was a good sign. The world wasn’t tilting forward, that was an even better sign. In moving he had disturbed his loyal companion Snooty. Now the cat stood up on all four legs and walked toward him, putting his front paws on his knees. Ted petted him, stroking his fir gently. He remembered waking intermittently when the fever had broken and feeling a warm vibrating press of flesh against his side and now he smiled. Snooty didn’t care a whit how he felt. He was just always there. They were friends. Now Ted picked up the cat and held him to his chest and buried his face in the fir. The cat purred and Ted smiled, perhaps for the first time since Sunday morning. Snooty wriggled in Ted’s gentle grasp, signaling an end to the affection. Ted let him jump down onto the floor. Ted coughed painfully and decided that a shower might help him feel better. Some time later, He made his way to the cheery room that served as his office. He had dressed in fresh light clothes. For now his fever had lessened and he could notice his congestion and his other aches. A glance at the calendar and the small, brass clock on the desk made him gasp a little. Could it be Wednesday already? Where had he been for the last three days? He wasn’t sure he remembered. He thought he’d try to get a few things caught up before returning to bed. He would be there, he knew that. For here and now, he sat down at his large, oak desk. Reaching up to the answering machine on the desk he pushed the play button. The beep of the first message threatened to revitalize his easing headache. “Ted this is Janice. It’s Monday. Hey we’re all wondering how you’re doing. Court went well today. I need some notes if you’re up to sending them to me. Ben’s handling the questioning for the next two days. If I don’t’ hear from you by Wednesday I’ll give you a call.” “Ted, it’s Allen from church. Hey the scouts meeting is cancelled on Wednesday. Don’t know where you are, haven’t heard from you for a couple of days you must be busy in court. Give us a call Ted.” Scouts? They would meet Wednesday. Today was Wednesday. Well that was one thing he didn’t have to worry about. They weren’t’ meeting anyway. That was the end of the messages. He picked up the phone and called Janice. “Hi this is Janice Cross, attorney at law. Please leave a message and we’ll get back to you.” “Janice, it’s Ted. Sorry I’ve literally just now gotten out of bed. I don’t think I remember the last three days. Thank you for being so in control. I owe you. Anyway I don’t have any notes online. Everything’s in the top drawer of my desk. Go through it and take what you need. It’s up to you, Jan, I’m still down for the count.” His last call before turning out the light and returning to bed was to Kim Hemming. If Ted had thought Kim was a friend before Sunday night, her faithful ministrations had only deepened this understanding. She had cared for him Sunday night, and at 2:00 in the morning after helping him bathe and putting him to bed she had collapsed wearily in the guest room and slept till late Monday morning. Ted had barely opened his eyes when her hand touched his forehead and she said she would be staying with him at least till Tuesday morning. Later when the fever had remitted for a longer period, he remembered Kim standing over him, gently resting her hand on his, saying that he seemed better, she had to go check on the restaurant, that she was just a phone call away. “I think judge wants a doctor’s note,” he remembered saying. “If you can make the appointment I can drive you.” She had run her fingers through his hair. “Go back to sleep. I’ll come back soon.” Here and now Ted Hamilton would not argue with judge owens' request. he was feeling bad enough to warrant a trip to the doctor. It couldn’t hurt. And it would give him more time out of the court room. He didn’t want to be there now. He wanted to go back to sleep. Kim looked up as Ted fitted his key into the lock and opened the door. Ted walked silently and purposefully into the house and headed for the bathroom. She followed behind him, turning into the bedroom, and put the new cough syrup on his nightstand. He came out of the bathroom and wearily lay down on his bed. Kim had found him in the morning asleep in his recliner, Snooty curled up on his lap. Waking him, she had helped him into the car where he had remained uncommunicative. On the way home from the doctor he had looked at her appreciatively, but did not say anything. Kim knew that Ted’s day had been trying. Doc Miller had said that not only did Ted have influenza but he had acute bronchitis, too. When he went out of commission, he knew how to do it right. “Go home, go to sleep and just let it run its course.” He had smiled a little at his patient. “Your judge will have to wait and that woman in the other room, Ted, well, she looks like she’d like to help out. Just let her. You’re not going to feel like doing much of anything for another week or so. Call me if anything changes.” He reached out and shook his patient’s hand. “Good luck, counselor.” Ted couldn’t argue with Dr. Miller’s sound advice on either count. He didn’t feel much like doing anything and he was glad Kim was here. He wouldn’t refuse her assistance. Now, he lay back, the cough syrup having eased the cough and his trip to the bathroom having cleared his sinuses vigorously. “The note,” Kim said quietly, tucking the blankets around him. “I’ll mail it to Janice. Is that good enough?” “Fine,” he said, helping her secure the blankets. Kim had learned that Ted liked being covered up. It was comforting, somehow. Now she watched him drift into sleep. She took his hand, holding it in her cool one she examined the nails. They really did need cutting. She put his hand on the bedspread and left the room. She returned in a moment with her manicure set. Making herself comfortable she took the right hand and filed the nails. His eyes were closed and his breathing easier. She looked at her friend, much more comfortable now that he slept. He had been restless and uncomfortable all day, clearly longing for this haven. Now she watched his body relax, and the expression on his face grow more peaceful. She admired this hard working, kind man. He had grown from an adolescent with dreams to a focused middle-aged man whose persistence and dedication had shaped him into a thoughtful individual with tangible evidence of his work. Taking Ted’s left hand and holding it allowed her to focus on her feelings about him. She was ready after all these years to admit to herself that she really did love him. She waited every week for him to come to her restaurant after being scarred and battle weary. Court was like war, she thought, Kim was his r and r in a way. She let his hand lie in her’s. It didn’t matter how she rationalized it, she loved him. She could wait. Sometimes she thought she saw shades of something more than escape in his eyes, something that said he wished he could tell her. A man who was so skilled at pulling the truth out of others somehow couldn’t pull the truth out of himself. Kim would just wait. She would be his friend. She would, as Angie liked to put it, fetch and carry for him. After the trial and the illness were finished she would get down to brass tacks. Maybe twenty years after their relationship had started she would lay her cards out on the table and see if he matched them. She would just ask him straight out if he loved her. The answer might surprise both of them. 5 No sooner had Kim put down the nail cutters than the storm that had loomed on the horizon for the past 24 hours broke with unrestrained fury. Kim did not relish the drive home in this weather. She would have to stay till the angry wind and rain had passed. She sat in the living room watching the news. There was something comforting here, she thought. She liked Ted’s sparse furnishings, the landscapes on the wall. He was a man of means but he preferred to live simply. Out of the corner of her eye, Kim caught sight of the cat lurking in the doorway. Snooty stood in the door of the living room and eyed this new intruder. “Come on kitty. I’m not new. You know me.” Slowly Snooty approached. He was sleek and black, white head, white paws, little white streaks on his ears. He had spent most of the last three days with Ted, curious about what only the cat knew. Maybe the cat thought it was strange that he should have to share the house with Ted. Maybe the cat didn’t think anything. Kim wondered when she saw Snooty curl up beside him if he knew that Ted was ill. There was something she had read somewhere about the healing properties of cats. She put more faith in the healing properties of sleep so she had left the room so that her friend would not be disturbed. He slept soundly now, perhaps the result of medicine, exhaustion, or just wanting to get away from how bad he felt. Whatever the reason Kim did not want to wake him. She felt a little awkward about sitting here. This was his private space. Maybe he would want her to go so that he could just be here by himself. She would go when the weather broke. The TV flashed a picture of Janice Cross, explaining that the prosecution would probably rest its case tomorrow or the next day no one was really sure. Ted Hamilton who was currently out of court due to illness was scheduled to give the closing argument, but Janice would give the closing argument. This was all that Janice would say to the camera. She did not share her strategy, doubtless disappointing talk show hosts who thought that someone should say something. Certainly the defense had been all over the talk show circuit before judge Owens had imposed a gag order. Well, that would be lifted soon enough and Kim thought that the lead defense attorney would be happy to get in front of a camera. She sighed. The reporters and the public would never know, or at least not for a while, about the battle weary lead prosecutor and his four hard workers who came in to her café every week, and especially Ted. She wasn’t going to tell. It was refreshing to see someone who didn’t go to a camera like a cat to light. A scampering sound caught her attention and now she looked up to see Snooty prancing across the floor, sliding, turning, jumping. She laughed, distracted by Snooty’s night crazy. “Snooty is putting on a show for you.” Kim looked up, this time not surprised to see Ted standing in the door. “My cat does that.” “It’s entertaining.” Ted came into the room, looked around. His eyes fell on Kim and stayed there for a moment. Then he looked out the window and blinked. “Good grief,” was all he said. “When did all this start?” “When we got back from the doctor. You slept all the way home when I went to get the medicine and stopped by the store.” “I see.” He sat down on the sofa. Kim got up and brought him the TV remote.
Copyright © 2008 Shelley J Alongi |