by Ali Vali

Disclaimers: The characters are of my own creation. Any similarities to anyone living or dead are purely coincidental. No part of this story may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from me, the author

If the thought of two women being romantically involved is not for you, then this story is one you won’t want to read. But seriously if you are underage and live someplace where that is not allowed move on, literally.

Sit back and enjoy the story and if you have something wonderful to say about it write to me at terrali20@yahoo.com.

I want to thank my betas for correcting this for me. Jaden, Sue R, Lenore and Doc, you are all godsends. I bow to your grammatical knowledge.

This one, as always, is dedicated to the woman who is all my leading ladies rolled into one. When I write about love and everything that comes with it, I learned all of it from you. Thank God you have taken me on as a lifelong student.

Let me also take the opportunity to thank all of you that read these literary vacations my imagination takes every so often. Your wonderful notes and words of encouragement mean everything and I appreciate them all.

Thank you to Stephanie and the wonderful folks over at The Royal Academy of Bards for hosting this Halloween special again. Without you, we would be bards without an audience.

Happy Halloween!

Copyright © 2004 by Ali Vali. All Rights Reserved.

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You’re traveling to another dimension.
A dimension not only of sight and sound, but also of mind.
A journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of the imagination.
There’s a signpost up ahead, your next stop.

The Twilight Zone

First Assistant District Attorney, Mordecai Sydney O’Shea had a reputation for grabbing the attention of a jury and leading them with the facts to the verdict she was looking for. Her boss loved the news coverage after every murder conviction, and with her record, there were plenty of cameras always hanging around. Mordecai hadn’t lost a case since coming to work for Gilbert Gilespy, the District Attorney, and everyone present was certain John Rohan wasn’t going to be her first.

"Guilt. A one-syllable word that sometimes carries with it the most costly penalty for those that fall within its trap. For Mordecai O’Shea it’s always meant victory. One more scumbag off the streets and headed for either life in prison or the needle, and at age thirty five she’s piled up more than her share of kills for the justice system. But everyone who knows her is quick to defend her character and tell you about how noble she is - living life by the same code of honor with which she treats the law. You don’t cheat, you don’t steal, you play by the rules — always, and you don’t kill."

"Sydney, as her friends know her, has finally chosen to settle down, and settle is how some of those closest to her would define it. For two years she’s shared her life and her bed with Kay Millard, an uptown socialite who captured the Assistant DA’s attention at one of the cocktail parties always being hosted in one of the mansions along St. Charles Avenue in New Orleans, Louisiana. Petite in stature, but not in personality, Kay put Sydney in her sights much like a lioness with a gazelle that’s fallen behind the herd."

"Kay’s main problem is that she doesn’t live by the same code or rules that Sydney has set for herself. After twenty-four months, she’s grown bored with the concept of a committed relationship and with monogamy. What she hasn’t grown bored with is the O’Shea family money. As Sydney puts more notches in her gun belt for justice, Kay has started to accumulate her share of notches on other people’s bedposts."

"So you ask yourself, is this a story about a love gone wrong where the end is predictable? Come on, we’ve read this a million times through history. A lover scorned and in the clutches of grief kills the one who has broken their heart. No, this is a different story, one which will explore the true nature of cruelty and of perseverance. In the end we will see how far greed will push one woman, and how far the other is willing to bend her principles in the face of pain. Mordecai is about to learn the lessons that can only be learned in The Twilight Zone."

"Ladies and gentleman, I want to first thank you for time and service. Jury duty is always something you think’s going to happen, well never. You tell yourself that the day you march down to the courthouse to register to vote until that summons arrives. Then you take off from work to come down here and find out it’s a murder trial, and the cherry on the ‘I’m having a crappy day sundae’ comes when you hear the word sequestered." The fourteen people in the box along the wall sitting in comfortable leather chairs laughed at Sydney’s opening remarks. If they all admitted it, they would have sat through another three weeks of testimony just to watch the woman in action.

Sydney walked to the railing that separated the prosecution’s table from the jurors, undid the button of her jacket and put her hands on the old ornate wood. "You’ve been great listening to the facts that help you decide Mr. Rohan’s fate, and that is what we’re asking you to do, decide this man’s fate."

The consummate communicator looked at all fourteen sets of eyes before she went on, making each one of the jurors feel like the center of the universe at that one moment in time. Each of them in return looked into the deep blue eyes; feeling like they could believe whatever Sydney had to say next. She turned and pointed toward the defendant, John Rohan.

"The defense will have you believe that Mr. Rohan’s wife, Marie Rohan, just decided to walk out one day and into the arms of another man. Plausible enough story, this is Louisiana after all. Passion’s in our nature." She stopped and turned back toward the chuckling jurors giving them the killer smile that had made women swoon for years.

"But let’s review the rest of that story, shall we? Marie finds some hunk to replace her boring husband, so on a Friday afternoon she drives off into the sunset with this mystery man for a better life. She’s so caught up in the rapture of new love she leaves behind not only her purse and the paycheck she’d picked up that morning, but most importantly — she leaves behind Bridget and Mollie, her two young daughters." Sydney ticked off the list holding up a finger for each point she mentioned. "She’s so caught up in the rapture that she doesn’t tell anyone. Not her mother, whom she spoke to every morning, not her children whose lives she cherished? No, ladies and gentlemen, the only person Marie told was her husband of ten years, John Rohan." She pointed now to the defendant and drew the jury’s attention back to him.

"She sends John a ‘Dear John’ letter." Again the laughter came not only from the jurors but also from the gallery and the judge’s bench as well. "Appropriate in this case I know." She picked up the letter she had referred to, sealed away for posterity in a clear plastic evidence bag marked ‘State’s Exhibit #42.’ "Our proverbial red herring in this whole drama, the letter from Marie."

Sydney read parts of it again to strength her argument. "Tell the children I miss them but I’m not ready to come home. I’ve grown to hate you John. Your silence and anger are two things I can no longer live with. I’ve found someone else who fulfills the need in my heart and in my soul."

"I find it hard to believe that the one person Marie chose to contact after her departure in any fashion was John Rohan. The man, if this letter’s indeed from her, she herself says she hates. She doesn’t write to her mother or her sister or even her children. What I don’t understand is why the only fingerprints the police and FBI labs were able to find on this page and on the envelope are Mr. Rohan’s? Did she feel such contempt for him that she put on gloves to pen this letter?" Sydney held the letter up and walked back to the jurors’ box. "No, ladies and gentlemen, this letter was written by Mr. Rohan to cover his tracks. It was hard for Marie to write anything under three feet of dirt concealed by the rose garden. A garden you could see from the window of the master bedroom she’d shared with her husband of ten years."

Sydney put the letter back on the table and picked up a polyester shirt next to it. Everyone had been amazed that after ten years of being buried, the shirt and shorts Marie had last been seen wearing were in remarkable shape except for a little dirt. "This is what really happened that Friday night. Marie came home from work to find her husband sitting at the kitchen table. He told her he’d found someone new and wanted to make a life with this girl. An argument ensued in which Marie told him he was free to go, but the children were staying with her. That wasn’t what John had in mind so he followed the upset woman into the den, where in a fit of anger he struck her in the back of the head with the poker from the fireplace. The medical examiner from LSU testified that was the first blow," said Sydney as she pulled the sheet back on the gurney that had first been rolled in during the trial. The staff at LSU had meticulously laid Marie Rohan’s bones out after they had been recovered from the Rohan’s backyard. Sydney picked up the fractured skull and pointed to the back. The gasps that had come when the police had first wheeled it in came again. "But it wasn’t the death blow." She put the skull down and covered the bones as if to give Marie Rohan some of her dignity back.

The muddied shirt held the key to the murder they were prosecuting so Sydney picked it up again. "In a panic from seeing his wife moaning and bleeding on the floor, John went into a self-preservation mode. He did the only thing he thought would get him out of the situation, he shot Marie in the back to put her out of her misery and his." The back of the shirt showed the hole to support Sydney’s story.

She put the props down and moved back to the people who would decide the case. It was time to tie up all the loose ends that would erase any doubt and any guilt that would come from giving John Rohan the punishment he deserved. "Had he stopped there and called the police, you could define this as a crime of passion. In the heat of a fight I struck and shot my wife, Mr. Rohan could have told you, but he didn’t. No, this cold murderous bastard drove around for two days with Marie in the trunk of his car until he was able to bury her in their yard. Two days, ladies and gentlemen, think about that. Two days during which he went to work, visited his girlfriend and future wife, and went about his business while his wife was stuffed into the trunk of his car."

Some of the jurors shivered at the scenario and the rest glared at the seemingly unaffected John Rohan. The man looked like Sydney was talking about someone else as she spelled out his own macabre end behind the fences of the Angola State Penitentiary. "If it hadn’t been for Mr. Rohan’s arrogance we might’ve never heard from Marie again. Selling the house to someone who installed a new septic system was this sweet woman’s chance to speak to you from the grave." The new owner had found the bones as he leveled his yard after the job was complete. Part of a jawbone led a team of police on a digging expedition in the Rohan yard for the rest of Marie’s bones.

"She spoke to you in this courtroom as well when you saw her remains, her clothes and heard about her life. Marie Rohan wasn’t somewhere living it up with a new man. She was dead. Had the defendant given her the chance she would have given him his divorce. She would’ve been happy to live out the rest of her life with her family and her children. This wasn’t some loose woman who was out running the streets and hanging out in bars, this was a woman who did volunteer work for the church and drove her daughters to dance classes and Bible study. Go into your deliberations and give Marie what she’s asking for, justice. The defendant, John Rohan is guilty of second-degree murder. Marie deserves no less than that verdict. Thank you."

Sydney looked at them for a second longer before turning back to her seat. The defense attorney didn’t have as much to say to explain away all the evidence the state had accumulated against his client. If the idiot had only stayed in the house, was his only thought as he sat down when he was finished.

"Ladies and gentlemen, you have heard from the defense and from the state. The court will adjourn giving you the time to weigh the evidence presented by both sides and we will meet here again when you have reached a decision. If there’s anything I can do from answering questions to providing anything you need to reach that verdict, please inform the bailiff outside the door and I’ll see to it immediately. Court is in recess." The judge banged the gavel once and the jurors were escorted down the hall to their new home until they came to a unanimous verdict.

Sydney and her two assistants watched as the jurors walked out. They stood and smiled at each person as a way of giving them a virtual pat on the back for a job well done. Unless the four men and eight women were brain dead a guilty verdict wouldn’t take that long. The two alternates were on their way back to the hotel in case they were needed.

"Nice job, Ice," said Elwood White one of the assistant DAs who had worked on the case. All the new attorneys on staff wanted to second chair for Sydney. There was no better teacher with which to cut your teeth within the criminal judicial system than Sydney O’Shea. Win after win had earned her the nickname Ice, the other reason was her take no prisoners attitude during sentencing.

"Thanks, guys, it was a team effort. I appreciate all the long hours and weekends you put in. If the jury comes back early, drinks are on me." Sydney put the rest of her papers into the beat up leather briefcase as she talked, wanting to go back to the office to get some work done before heading home. She noticed the blonde sitting in the last row of the gallery when she turned from the table to go.

"I see Ice strikes again. Those women were creaming in their pants to give you what you want, Mordecai." Sydney laughed at the blonde’s comment that had no doubt been said to get a rise out of her.

"Hey, darlin’, I didn’t know you were coming down here today. What’s your verdict?"

Kay looked up into the blue eyes and smiled. It was times like this that reminded her why she’d fallen in love with Sydney. The power she exuded was intoxicating, but the black hair, dark tanned skin, blue eyes and classic features didn’t hurt. At parties and political events they made a dashing couple. The tall dark idealistic avenger of the innocent fighting the good fight, and the diminutive fair maiden who spun words as a local reporter who did anything to get the full story.

"Guilty, baby. Isn’t that what you always tell me?" Kay moved to the railing and leaned over for a kiss. "Are you free for lunch?"

"If we make it quick and we make it Chinese. The pile of wicked people in need of a spanking has gotten high on my desk while I was playing with Mr. Rohan."

"Come on, Captain Marvel, it’ll be my treat." The small blonde grabbed the brown case on the table and handed it to one of the men behind Sydney. "Deliver this back to the bat cave if you would, I’m stealing her away for an hour."

"Are you just fishing for an exclusive?" asked Sydney.

"Would I do that, baby?"

"Yes, I think that’s the only reason you live with me sometimes."

"You wound me, lover, but I’ll let it slide since I do what I must so New Orleanians can get the news."

The steps of the courthouse on Tulane and Broad were crowded with people there for trial, attorneys looking for new clients and the police officers who kept everyone in line. One of the men in blue was busy watching the Mercedes roadster with the top down that was doubled parked. It was a toss up as to which got more looks, the car or the woman who drove it.

On a reporter’s salary alone, Kay probably couldn’t have afforded a nice bicycle much less the pretty import, but she had married well. Sydney’s family had built a shipping company over four generations that was now worldwide. The O’Sheas were hard working and had millions to show for it. As the oldest of four from the fourth generation of O’Sheas that had founded the company, Sydney’s money had been invested in blind trusts so there would never be a hint of impropriety with her job. Her three younger brothers had gone to work for her father, but the old man talked incessantly to anyone that cared to listen about his kid the ADA.

"Thanks, Wally, I owe you one." Kay hugged the large guy sitting on the hood of her birthday present.

"Anytime, Kay, and you," he pointed to Sydney. "Good job today. The guys were talking about you holding up that head, I’m sorry I missed it."

"Don’t worry, Wally. You’ll get to read all about it in tomorrow’s paper," said Kay. The second her door shut the phone in her purse rang. "Millard here, talk to me." She turned away from Wally and Sydney a little as she recognized the voice on the other end. "I’ll be there in fifteen. Thanks for giving me the heads up."

"News flash?" The nearness of Sydney’s voice startled Kay into almost dropping the phone.

"You scared me, baby, and yes, I’ve got to go to work. Can you forgive me for skipping out on lunch?" Sydney just sighed and nodded her head. Their time together was getting to be a precious commodity. "You’re the best, Mordecai." Kay drove off in the direction of the docks without another word or a kiss goodbye.

"Not the shoes, mama, not yet." Charlie Thompson looked like a little man in his school uniform. The only thing missing from the navy blue shorts, shirt and socks were the black shoes the school insisted on to complete the ensemble. If Charlie got his wish, it would stay that way.

"Yes the shoes, Charlie, come on we’re going to be late. It’s just orientation today so I promise you won’t have to keep them on long." The pretty blonde looked down at the little heart breaker and couldn’t blame him. In an effort to speed up the process Blithe Thompson put on her own shoes.

The excitement of Charlie’s first day of preschool was sharing time in her brain with the conversation Blithe had had with her friend Kay the night before. Even though their relationship went back to their first day of preschool, the two had drifted apart over the last few years. There were her responsibilities with Charlie, and Kay’s relationship with Sydney and her work. Except for an occasional lunch and a monthly phone call to catch up, the two rarely spoke.

It was the absence of the closeness they had once shared that surprised Blithe about Kay’s request. Sitting on her sofa the night before, Blithe had felt like she was in some twisted episode of the Twilight Zone as Kay spelled out the favor she was asking of her old friend. The light of morning still wasn’t making it any less surreal.

"Why do I hafta go, mama? Don’t you want me around to play with?" Charlie cocked his head to the side to work on his mother’s sympathies.

"You’ve got to go so you can learn to read. When I’m old and you’re taking care of me, I don’t want you giving me the wrong medicine because you wanted to say home and play with your trains instead of going to school. I promise you’re going to love it, Charlie boy." She grunted when she picked him up to hug him. With any luck he’d be bigger than her five feet three inches. "I love you, buddy, and I’ll be right beside you all afternoon."

"Thanks, mama, I love you too."

The phone rang as Blithe pulled the older model minivan out of her driveway. A social worker for children’s services, she was almost always on call.

"Hello."

"Did you think about what we talked about?" Kay got off the interstate near the river and headed toward the back end of the garden district.

"It’s hard not to, and I still can’t believe you think it’s going to work."

"Blithe, don’t be such a prude. Sydney just needs a little push in the right direction then she’ll see the light. If I’m not the only one guilty of cheating it’ll be harder for her to pull that righteous indignation she does so well."

"And you get to keep trucking in style too. Isn’t that what it’s all about?"

"I love Sydney, silly. I don’t want to lose her over an itch. This thing will be over in less than two months, but I still need the security an affair of her own will give me."

Blithe heard the wind and engine stop from the other end signaling that Kay had gotten to wherever she was going. "As a mental health professional I can’t begin to tell you how screwed up your thinking is. It’s your life, Kay, find someone else to help you derail it."

"You owe me."

"Dream on, girl, I don’t owe you anything. Why can’t you just be happy that you found someone who loves you and thinks it’s a bad thing to sleep with other people? If you love her this isn’t the way to show her."

"Because I’m not even thirty, Blithe. I enjoy sex, but I don’t think I should lose everything because of it. Think about it and I’ll call you later." Kay ended the call before Blithe could put forth any more rational arguments. Her first caller stepped onto the porch of the old shotgun with his shirt off. Stuck in with the chest hair was a mixture of fresh and dried paint flecks from working that morning.

Matt Franklin had gotten an itch of his own in the middle of a canvas and was certain Kay was only a phone call away. The aspiring artist smiled when Kay licked her lips and bumped the car door closed with her shapely behind.

The two had met at a gallery opening six months before and after an evening of conversation, figured they had a few things in common. The most important being an attraction for each other that Kay had wasted no time acing on. With Sydney working such long hours, finding time with Matt hadn’t been a problem. But it was days like today, when Kay gave her partner time to put that brilliant analytical mind to work with a sudden departure, that worried her. Blithe was going to be Kay’s security ticket to keeping Sydney and her extra curricular fun.

"Get in here and get naked, I feel like fucking," said Matt holding the front door.

"It’s nice when great minds think alike because so do I, baby." Kay moved to follow him inside never noticing the car across the street. The pad the man put back into his breast pocket had her license plate number and the digital camera that was worth more than the piece of shit he was driving had a series of shots of the kiss the couple had shared before going inside. His personal favorite as he reviewed them was the last three when a paint-splattered hand grabbed a hand full of ass.

Hugo wasn’t the sharpest pencil in the box, but he knew the lady wasn’t there to look at the guy’s etchings. With the amount of fucking around this guy did, it was a wonder he found time to paint.

"I heard Vincent Carlotti’s gotten through the feds net again. This is what, the fourth time they’ve tried him and lost?" Nick, the other assistant assigned to Sydney, came back to the table and put a cup in front of her and Elwood. The three had escaped from the office after news of the broken air conditioning system had been high on everyone’s priority list of complaints when they got back from court.

"They need to pull their heads out of their asses and fry this guy. I mean everyone knows he’s the head of organized crime in the city; it’s not a secret. So why can’t the feebies figure it out? Vinny’s been off limits to us because all those wiretaps and FBI tails haven’t been able to prove murder, but we all know he’s doing that too." Sydney rolled her sleeves up and grabbed the next folder on the stack they had brought with them as she listened to Elwood complain about the federal prosecutor’s inability to close the deal on Carlotti.

The coffee shop was fairly empty and was far enough away so that the usual legal crowd that tried to push deals for their clients weren’t going to be stopping by the table. If the Rohan verdict came in, three cell phones were sitting in the middle of the table ready to receive the call.

"State versus Larry Smith. Drug possession with intent to distribute and gun possession. Wasn’t this dipshit in court two months ago facing the same charges? He’s out on bail so he can finish moving his product, fabulous." Sydney read the folder seeing that Larry had two kilos of coke when the officer pulled him over for a broken tail light.

"His lawyer called me and said dear Larry’s willing to plead to the drugs and give up some of his suppliers in exchange for simple possession. He’s willing to do five to ten," said Elwood after looking at his notes. "There’s a tape of his arrest by the way."

"How sweet of him. No deals on this one, Elwood. Mr. Smith’s going down to the farm for life, and it’s going to be you that’s going to nail his ass there. I already know who his suppliers are, and did he think I’d forget he’s on probation for an earlier offense? Last time I checked the law, gentlemen, carrying a gun while on probation’s a crime."

"Next we have the State versus Gary Augustern," Nick held up the brown folder. "Poor guy was having a bad day so he shot and killed four people at a gas station last night. This one’s hot off the presses, boss."

"Was it the crazy weather that made him do it?" asked Sydney.

"The crack cocaine he’d smoked and the fact they were out of Pringles drove him to commit multiple homicide."

"Can happen to the best of us. Did he ask for a cash donation while committing this heinous crime?"

"Yes, it was the least they could do since they were out of the chips he was craving," answered Nick.

"Start working the brief for the grand jury and make sure you’re both at the bail hearing. This guy gets remanded. Don’t let some pansy judge let this one lose on society. Gary’s going down for first degree murder and tell his public defender we’re going for the death penalty." Sydney broke the pile into four smaller piles and sent the two men back to the office to hand out assignments. Capital cases took precedence so some of her colleagues would get the rest of the cases that had been waiting for her.

She pulled out her laptop and started looking for the case files that would be needed to start building a capital case. Behind Sydney the door opened letting in new customers in search of a chocolate malt to celebrate a successful first day of school.

"Can you believe we can make our own paint, mama?" Charlie held up the small container the teacher had given each child to take home to make a finger painting for the following Monday. The project had been easy but fun enough to build excitement in each student to want to come back the next week.

"And red too. That’s your favorite color. Now go find us a table and I’ll get us a treat." Blithe moved to the counter to order while keeping an eye on her son as he climbed into a chair and pulled a sheet of blank paper out of the new school bag she had bought.

Memories of her school days came back with a smile. The end of the summer always meant new pencils, crayons and notebooks. Blithe just hoped Charlie would love school as much as she had. Her trip down memory lane made Blithe miss little dexterous fingers open the finger paint and the beginning of Charlie’s masterpiece.

Charlie poured some of the paint on one of the sheets he’d taken out so he could coat his hands. With that done he pressed them into the middle of the second sheet, pleased with the result when he lifted them off. Another coating brought forth another set of handprints, but no room to put another set. The little boy’s laughter was drowned out by the blender the waiter was using to make the two malts. With a fresh coat of paint on his hands, Charlie looked for a new canvas. A quick look around the shop found him the perfect spot. It was stark white, broad and looked like it was in dire need of adornment. Leaving more than a little bit of paint on his chair when he climbed down, he lost no time in zeroing in on his target when his legs hit solid ground.

Sydney’s head popped up when Blithe yelled, "Charlie, no!" She wondered why right before a little cyclone ran into her back. The attorney turned in her chair to find a contrite child holding up red tinted hands like they were frozen in that position. She guessed that the rest of the paint she was now on the Egyptian cotton covering her shoulders.

"Charles William Thompson, you’re in so much trouble, young man." The reprimand Blithe started with reminded Sydney of her mother and the constant stream of fussing caused by her four children from hell.

"Are there two red hand prints on my back?" Sydney asked the little boy who was still holding his hands up in front of him.

"Yeah sorry." He turned and looked at his mother hoping not to find too mad a face from the woman still at the counter. In front of him, Sydney reached into her bag and pulled out a badge.

"I could place you under arrest for painting up an officer of the law, young man." The joke backfired on her when the small boy’s lip started to tremble with fear. "I’m kidding, come on don’t cry. I think you might be in more trouble from your mother than you are from me." She pointed to the pretty blonde and smiled. Before there could be any other conversation her phone and pager went off at the same time. "O’Shea." Sydney answered the call. "All right, round up Frick and Frack and tell them I’ll meet them at the courthouse."

"I’m so sorry for my son." Blithe had moved closer to the table in an attempt to calm any bad feelings down since she saw the woman was getting ready to leave.

"Don’t be, we’ll blame it on his temperamental artist side. I’m sorry to cut this short, but I’m due back in court."

Blithe looked at the good-looking woman and wanted to draw out the conversation. Since Charlie’s birth sent her girlfriend packing, no one that had gotten past asking her name without striking out. This person seemed nice and didn’t seem like some idiot that was just looking for a score.

"Can we make it up to you?"

"It’s really all right. I’m sure Charles William Thompson didn’t mean it and I’m guessing you don’t let him play with oil based enamels so a good run through the heavy duty cycle should get it right out."

"I’m sure it will but we’d still like to make it up to you." Blithe knelt by Charlie and started to wipe the excess paint off his hands before he got into any more trouble.

"How about you two buy me a cup of coffee tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow’s Saturday so if you don’t mind waiting until our park play date’s over, we’ll meet you back here at, let’s say two."

"What’s there to do at the park, Charlie?" Sydney asked him so he wouldn’t feel like he was being left out of the conversation.

"Swings are my favorite but I don’t have anybody to push me high like all the other kids do. Mama tries but Gabriel’s dad does the best job. He’s really big and my mama’s really not."

Sydney stood up and looked down at the blonde and her black haired child. She and Kay had never talked about children but looking at Charlie made her regret never taking the time to have that conversation. If she ever had a son it would have been nice to look at such a small person who looked so much like she did. Charlie looked nothing like his mother with the black shiny hair and big blue eyes. Sydney shook her head and chalked her thoughts up to some innate drive to perpetuate her family line.

Charlie followed her trip from the chair to her feet and was in awe when the big body finally unfolded itself. This lady was a lot bigger than Gabriel’s dad was, and he’d bet she was a champion swing pusher.

"Wow! You sure are big."

Sydney laughed and knelt down as well to be on the level of the two Thompsons. "I’m hoping you meant that in a good way or I really will bring you and your mother in for insulting my workout plan."

"I just think you would be great pushing me on the swing. I could go higher than Gabriel if you were there to push me," Charlie explained.

Sydney’s phone rang again before she could comment on his request. "O’Shea. Yeah I heard you the first time. Have someone outside waiting because I’m not going to have time to park the car. I should’ve just stayed in the sauna since I had a feeling they weren’t going to be out long."

"Mama, you hafta get her to come tomorrow. Just once I’d like to beat Gabriel at the swings."

Blithe thought of the best solution for the both of them. If she talked the woman into coming to the park, Charlie would be happy and if she got to do the woman a favor maybe she’d feel indebted enough to make her happy too. "We could give you a ride to wherever you’re late for, then when you’re done we could bring you back here for that cup of coffee. Sound good?"

"I can’t let you do that, Miss."

"It’s not letting me when I offer, and please call me Blithe. You’ve already met Charlie."

"Well Blithe and Charlie the law abiding citizens of New Orleans will thank you if you could do that."

"I’ll ask what you mean in the car and now that you know who we are, what’s your name?"

"Mordecai O’Shea."

"What?" asked Blithe.

"Mordecai O’Shea’s my name. You just asked me, remember?"

"But you’re a woman."

"Last time I checked. I’m also the eldest of four and the subject of my mother’s sense of humor, or maybe it was her love of Seuss. I’m still trying to figure it out."

"What do you mean?"

"Don’t tell me you’ve never read Dr. Seuss. You have a small child, I thought it was a prerequisite."

"What book?" Blithe watched as Sydney kept packing her bag looking up only to wave at the guy behind the counter.

"So…

Be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray

Or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O’Shea,

You’re off to Great Places!

Today is your day!

Your mountain is waiting.

So…get on your way!"

The voice sounded like it had run through the lines more than once and it made Blithe and Charlie laugh. After hearing them they had in fact read the book Sydney was quoting and it had never occurred to Blithe that someone would actually name their child for it.

"Oh, the Places You’ll Go! by Dr. Seuss, is that right?"

"That’s right Ms. Thompson. I have to thank her though, I’ve gotten in more fights because of that name than I care to remember, and because of that I can hold my own in any situation. To cut down on the teasing after I turned ten, I go by my middle name."

The café worker brought out the two malts and gave Sydney a slip to sign. Blithe moved to pick up all of Charlie’s things intending to give Sydney a ride. The busy phone made an appearance again as Sydney dialed her office.

"Sal, meet me in front of Judge Rose’s court with a fresh shirt and please don’t ask what happened to the old one." Sally had been her executive assistant since she had come to work for Gilbert. The old woman was an outcast in the District Attorney’s office because of her attitude, but had loved Sydney from the first day they had been introduced. But just because she loved her didn’t mean she didn’t love giving her a hard time.

"You’re late already, O’Shea. The only thing you got going for you is that it’s after twelve noon, cause you know how much pleasure that man gets out of hanging people." Sally said referring to the judge.

"I’m on my way, beautiful. If I don’t make it in time go on in and let him make doe eyes at you."

The young man behind the counter waved Blithe off along with her money. Sydney had put the two malts on her tab, which surprised him after seeing her shirt. "Are you going to tell me what your middle name is, or shall Charlie and I call you Mordecai?"

Only my mother and father call me that without me putting my fists up, and Kay but her calling me that is starting to work my last nerve. The thought went through Sydney’s head as she looked at the twinkling green eyes looking up at her.

"Wait don’t tell me, it’s Ali Van Allen?" Blithe laughed and got a smile out of Sydney with her joke.

"It’s Sydney, funny lady. I really do have to get going."

Another police officer was waiting for Sydney outside on the sidewalk, surprised when she got out of the minivan with peeling paint. Sally was waiting with him with a fresh shirt under her arm, retrieved from the drawer of Sydney’s desk. Blithe sat behind the wheel and wanted nothing more than to drive off after getting over the shock of who she had accidentally run into. After seeing Sydney for the first time, Kay’s favor didn’t sound like such a gross proposition.

"Thanks for the ride. If you want you can go. I don’t know how long this is going to take, and I don’t want you and the mad painter to be bored."

"How are you going to get your car?"

"I’ll get someone from my office to bring me back. Thanks for the ride over here."

Blithe watched as Sally stepped to the passenger side of her van and held up a new shirt. In the middle of the commotion of the Tulane and Broad streets corner, Sydney stepped out and stripped the dirty one off. If anyone headed up the stairs to the courthouse noticed none of them slowed down to stare. Blithe found herself unable to look away though. Why Kay would take any chances on losing the fabulously built Sydney was beyond comprehension at this point. Not that physical attributes should be the one deciding factor. Sydney had proved to have a wonderful personality, but the abdominal muscles she was gawking at were hard to ignore.

"Mind if we come in and watch?"

"Sure, I’m not sure how exciting it’s going to be, but you and Charlie are welcome." Sydney made short work of the buttons on the new shirt before tucking it into her pants. The fine, almost linen, cotton garments with her initials on the cuffs were gifts from her mother.

Gracelia O’Shea’s full time job was taking care of her family. She still shopped for all four of her children as well as her husband and joked with her friends that the five O’Sheas were under the impression they had a magic underwear and sock drawer. All of the girlfriends and then wives knew when it was time to throw in the towel to the small Italian woman’s shopping sprees. The one thing the women were grateful for was that Grace had not added them to her list. The other thing that was perfectly clear was when you riled the Irish and Italian ire in Grace’s children by saying a cross word about her, all four of them came out swinging first without asking questions. The two women that had married into the family could only hope to instill such family loyalty in their future children.

"If you’re good enough, maybe Charlie can bring you to show and tell."

"I’m good enough, don’t worry about that. If that jury comes back with a not guilty verdict I’ll trade cars with you."

"Mighty confident."

"I’m just sure about this one. Mr. Rohan has no one to blame for this unfortunate afternoon but himself. I’m a firm believer that everyone is free to make their choices in life, with that comes the responsibility of owning up to those choices."

"Spoken like a true attorney."

"I don’t expect anything less from myself, ma’am.

"And polite too. Go on before I make you any later. Charlie and I’ll be right in as soon as I find a parking spot." Sydney took the permit Sally was holding up without asking how she knew she’d need one, and handed it over to Blithe.

"Just put this on the dash and pull up a little." Sydney pointed to the curb ahead of them. "Good bye, Charlie, I’ll see you in a little while." The attorney walked at a fast pace up the stairs followed by her staff. Blithe looked at the long legs and groaned.

"Maybe she won’t notice, Charlie."

"Please rise." The bailiff yelled over the din in the large courtroom.

Judge Jude Rose situated his robe before banging down the gavel. "Be seated. Madame Forewoman, you’ve informed my bailiff you have reached a verdict?"

"Yes, sir your honor." The judge looked over the form his bailiff had taken from the woman with the tag Juror #3 and read it over.

"Everything seems to be in order, officer, if you would," instructed the judge.

"We the jury, in the above entitled case find the defendant, John Rohan, guilty of second degree murder."

Screaming from both sides of the families involved started the moment the bailiff had finished, prompting the judge to start banging his gavel from a standing position. "Sit down and shut up. This is a court of law, people, not an episode of the Springer Show. One more outburst like that and I’ll have the room cleared." The noise stopped so abruptly it seemed like someone had flipped a switch.

Sydney was hiding a smile behind her hand as she sat back down. When the screaming had started she had stood up and faced the gallery. It was a reaction she’d learned when an unhappy family member in a previous case had flung a concealed rock at the back of her head. Six stitches had taught her to be vigilant ever since.

"And, Ms. O’Shea, care to tell me why you have two lollipops stuck to the back of your pants?" asked Jude getting a small laugh out of the court staff. If there was one thing you could count on from Sydney, aside from always being prepared, was her immaculate appearance.

Sydney swung around again to find two sets of innocent Thompson eyes staring back. "I apologize for my appearance, your honor, it won’t happen again."

"Mr. Rohan, I’ll see you in three weeks for sentencing. Bailiff, take Mr. Rohan into custody please. We’re adjourned." The gavel wrapped against the small block it sat on once again, turning the noise back on when the judge stood. "Sydney, a moment please."

"Yes, sir?"

"I hear you caught the Augustern case."

"Yes, sir, and don’t worry, no deals on this one. I’ll be ready to go to trial by next month."

"Just like your father, Mordecai, that’s what I love about you. I just wanted to check my facts. One of the people killed in the convenience store was a friend of Victoria’s, so you’ll have my wife to answer to if you cut any deals."

"Don’t worry, Mr. Jude, deals aren’t in my nature on cases like this."

"Give your parents my best and tell them we’ll see them at the end of next month for their anniversary." The old O’Shea family friend patted Sydney on the back and headed for his chambers.

"I’m so sorry." Blithe was standing by the railing holding Charlie. "I wanted to call you back from the car, but you were already running late."

"You saw two suckers sticking to the back of my leg and you let me come in here like that?"

"Um…yeah?"

"I meant that thing about having people arrested that I told Charlie earlier."

"How about we take you to dinner to celebrate your victory, then I’ll give you the name of my dry cleaner for all the crimes Charlie and I’ve committed against your clothing?"

"Is there anything else hiding under your seats?"

"I have a three year old, I’m not making any promises. What’s the matter, you’ve never gotten dirty in your life?" Blithe held the gate open for Sydney hoping she would walk through and accept her invitation. They had only just met but she was guessing the attorney was kidding about being mad.

"I haven’t been messy since the early nineties, it’s not a look I do well. As for dinner, I’ll have to take my chances. Do you mind waiting while I make a quick phone call?"

"Please take your time, it’s early yet." Blithe sat in the first row and watched the elderly couple wait until Sydney had finished her call. The DA was frustrated when Kay didn’t answer her cell phone and the newsroom told her they didn’t know where she was or that they were aware that she was working on a story.

"Ms. O’Shea." The old man got up and helped his wife off the bench seat. They had sat through the testimony and watched as the charismatic woman defended the dead Marie Rohan’s honor. They had waited so long for this day and could only thank God they had lived to see it.

"Mr. and Mrs. Bailey, I’m so sorry about your daughter. I hope that today’s outcome has brought some sense of closure with all this. That seems like a trite thing to say in the face of your pain, but I’m glad we could do our part to punish the person responsible for Marie’s death."

"You will be in our family’s prayers from this day forth, Ms. O’Shea. My Marie deserved better than she got in her life but she couldn’t have found a better champion from the grave." The older woman stepped forward and hugged Sydney to her as her way of saying thank you. The simple act showed Blithe the other side of what people suffer through and what set them on the path of healing. She tried to do that everyday with the children she saw, but Sydney had done it with a good case.

"Thank you, ma’am, I can’t get enough of those."

"Is this your son?" Mrs. Bailey pointed to Charlie.

"No, ma’am, he’s my friend though, and if you and Mr. Bailey will excuse us, he and his mom were taking me out to dinner. If there’s anything you need from me, please just call me at home or at the office. You still have the numbers right?"

"Yes we do, and you all have a good night."

"Silly, will you come to push me on the swings?" asked Charlie as they walked out of the empty courtroom and took the back stairs to avoid the press. Gilbert and Sydney’s two assistants on the case were doing a good enough job talking to them without her.

"Silly?"

"He tried to pronounce Sydney and it hasn’t worked out yet," explained Blithe.

"Charlie, can you say Cai?"

"Cai," he faithfully repeated after his new hero.

"Let’s go with that then."

It was after nine before the three new friends got out of the pizza parlor that Blithe had driven to from the courthouse. The one thing that struck Sydney as she carried the sleeping Charlie to the van was that it had been forever since she had laughed as easily as she had that night. The new shirt that Sally had brought out to her was now covered in sauce along the sleeves where the little boy touched every time he wanted to get her attention, but the neat fanatic didn’t seem to mind.

Blithe turned in the driver’s seat when they arrived back at the coffee shop so Sydney could get her car, and looked at her passenger. She had a feeling that the exuberant Charlie had broadened the scope of Sydney’s orderly life after just one afternoon.

"Can I confess something to you?" asked Blithe.

"Sure."

"I know Kay."

"And?"

"You’ve never heard of me?" Blithe found it hard to believe that one of her oldest friends hadn’t mentioned her or her son to the person she lived with.

"I’m sorry but no. If she had, I’d have said something when we met this afternoon. I can’t explain Kay’s actions, but she likes to keep her secrets every so often, and I’m afraid I’m so busy most of the time I don’t take the time to question why."

"I just thought you should know that we know each other."

Sydney smiled and tried to decipher what Blithe was talking about. "I’ll mention it to her when we get home if it’ll make you feel better. Thank you for dinner and celebrating with me. You and your son were great."

"You’ll make his day if you show up tomorrow to push him on the swing."

"I’ll try, Blithe, but I can’t make any promises. I’ve got a big case coming up, which means my time is going to be wrapped up in that for weeks to come."

"If you get a chance it’s the park before you get to the university. I’d like it if you came."

"If you know Kay, then you know that we live together."

"And? What’s your point, counselor?"

"I don’t cheat, Blithe."

"I’m asking you to push my kid on a swing, not sleep with me."

"Sorry, I just didn’t want there to be any misunderstandings if I do show up tomorrow."

The van pulled away leaving Sydney behind wondering why Kay had never mentioned Blithe. She disarmed the alarm on the Lexus and popped open the trunk to put her briefcase and laptop in. On the way home she called Kay again to see if she needed anything before she drove to the uptown apartment they shared. Grace had been after Sydney to buy a house, but she’d resisted not yet ready to admit Kay was the one.

Why can’t you stop asking what else is there, counselor? The voice in her head asked. Whenever she had time to herself, Sydney crossed examined the part of her brain that had perpetual cold feet in making the final plunge into commitment. Your mother hasn’t put the screws to you so it must mean, like you, she doesn’t think Kay’s the one. "Maybe it’s time to take Kay somewhere and try to regain those feelings that we seem to keep putting off for career and other commitments." Sydney addressed the empty car when the answering machine at home picked up instead of Kay.

"Where’ve you been?"

"Are you questioning me, District Attorney O’Shea?" Kay walked passed the chair Sydney was sitting in smoking a cigar. "I told you I was working."

"It’s not smart to keep your phone off when you’re working."

"Your honor, I think the prosecution’s being hostile."

"I’m just curious, Kay, or am I not allowed to ask what’s keeping you busy these days and nights you disappear on me?"

Kay turned on the lamp next to the chair and looked at the casual outfit Sydney had on. Sweat pants and a t-shirt replaced the usual pressed expensive suits. Kay was curious herself when she had stopped finding such a gorgeous creature attractive.

"Not when you ask it in a tone that infers I’m doing something wrong. Now how about we get naked and go to bed, it’s late."

"I would think you’ve had enough for one night."

The statement was delivered with Sydney’s usual calm tone of voice. The same tone she used in the courtroom when she had a fist full of your short hairs and was getting ready to start pulling just for the pleasure of hearing you scream. It made Kay stop moving toward the bedroom and clench her fists. Had she been facing Sydney, the attorney would have seen her pale.

"What in the fuck’s that suppose to mean?"

"That you should put on pajamas and go to bed, darling. All this working you’ve been doing has to tire you out." Kay did turn after hearing the answer, taking a scalpel to it to see if she could dissect an accusation out of it.

"I’m never too tired for you."

"I have to work, Kay, go to bed. In the light of day maybe you can tell me what’s got you so spooked by a few questions. Vulgar answers were never in your repertoire before, must be a fascinating subject your working." Sydney couldn’t help herself. She pushed Kay a little further knowing now something was wrong. The only time Kay lashed out was when she felt trapped by something she wasn’t saying.

"Good night, Sydney."

"One more thing."

"What? I’m tired."

"I ran into a friend of yours today. Or should I say her son ran into me."

Kay looked at the ceiling and fought the feeling of wanting to run out of the room. How did Sydney know Blithe was a friend of hers? "Really, who?"

"Blithe Thompson and her son Charlie. Ring any bells?"

"Of course, excuse me." Kay left after that not wanting to sound any more suspicious than she had already made herself sound. She would have to call Blithe in the morning and find out how the legal genius had figured it out. Looking toward the den one more time, Kay saw Sydney blow a smoke ring in her direction and smile. "Fuck me, she knows." Sydney’s smile got bigger when Kay’s lips moved mumbling something to herself before she turned and walked toward their bedroom down the hall.

"You fucking told her you knew me?"

"Kay, what do you think she would’ve thought had she found out later? Sydney seems like a nice person and Charlie hasn’t stopped talking about her all morning. I’m not going to seduce her so you can keep the condo and the car, but I wouldn’t mind being her friend. Count me out of your plans, I don’t want any part of it." Blithe packed a lunch for her and her son in preparation of heading out to the park to play. The Saturday outings weren’t her favorites but the social worker would try anything to get the shy Charlie to come out of his shell.

"Blithe, you screw me and I’ll make sure your life becomes a nightmare. Don’t think of going to Sydney with this."

"Going to Sydney with what?" asked the subject of the conversation from behind Kay.

On Kay’s end she almost smashed the phone into Sydney’s face after the woman scared her. The black Lexus had driven away, she had seen it, since it was what she was waiting for to dial Blithe’s number.

"What in the fuck is the matter with you?" Kay screamed as she disconnected the line.

"When did the word fuck become your favorite?" countered Sydney.

"I just saw you drive away to the office."

"And I forgot something, I didn’t realize it was an offense to return for something once you’ve left the house. Just like I didn’t know it was wrong to inquire about why someone’s talking about me when they think I’m not here."

"Sydney, if you want to accuse me of something, spit it out. And you don’t own me so my vocabulary is my concern. Try and remember that."

Not in the mood to fight with Kay, Sydney turned and walked to her study. The files she had downloaded the night before were on the disk that sat at one corner of the desk. The two attorneys that would be helping her with the upcoming capital case were waiting for her at the office. That morning she had left Kay sleeping when she got up to shower and get dressed. After the conversation the night before she wasn’t anxious to think too much about what was taking up Kay’s time. The subject wasn’t going to be forgotten, but Sydney didn’t have time to think about more than one crisis at a time.

"Wait, Sydney. You just walk out all the time. Don’t you think we need to talk?"

"What would you like to talk about? If it’s this irrational anger you pull out every time I ask you a question, then I’m all ears. If not, I have somewhere to be."

Kay knew if she let her lover walk out the door it would only add to the gulf that was building between them. Had she known how hard it was to juggle her emotions between a live in lover and a part time one, she would have been content to admire Matt from across the room the night they met. The sex was incredible, but the man gave new meaning to the term starving artist. With Sydney, the attorney was predictable between the sheets, but there was the security her bank account provided.

"If you put as much priority on us as you do to the scum of this city, we’d be the happiest couple in the country."

"Really? So this is all my fault because I work too much, is that it?"

The opening she was looking for came and Kay took it. If she couldn’t count on Blithe to even the score then the next best thing was guilt. "Yes, Sydney. If you came alive here the same way you do for the juries you pick, we wouldn’t be having these problems. I never know when you’ll have the time to spare for just me."

"You know where I am all the time, Kay. I’m just a phone call away and my nights are spent here, waiting for you lately it seems. All these secret stories you’re working on sound so trite when I read them in the paper. Your last story was on how wearing white after Labor Day was now acceptable. What about that took four nights of research? Is there some underground group waiting to kill people who dare wear the color after the first Monday in September? I’m busy, sweetheart, not brain dead. If you want to look for someone to blame for what’s happening or not happening at this address, take the day and ponder what you’re doing wrong." Before Kay could dispute the allegations, the back door had slammed behind Sydney. At the beginning of their relationship the attorney wouldn’t have made it to the corner before turning the car around and coming back to smooth things over. Today Kay watched as the Lexus drove down the streets without the brake lights coming on once.

"I’m not so easy to get rid of, Sydney."

The drive downtown gave Sydney time to think. Had she settled for Kay because she had grown tired of the dating scene and the small blonde had been the easiest solution to that? If she had, she was paying the consequences now for that laziness. It should have been her first clue that losing the two-year relationship wasn’t upsetting her.

Stopping for a traffic light, Sydney looked to her left and saw the playground Blithe had mentioned the night before. The petite blonde was standing in the standard swing pushing position talking to the husky man next to her. Charlie had been right, the kid next to him was going much higher than he was. On impulse, Sydney turned and parked the car.

Blithe didn’t see her as she walked up from the rear entrance to the park. When Sydney got closer she noticed Charlie was right about something else, she was taller than Gabriel’s father. The first smile of her morning came when with one good push Charlie shot a little higher than all the other swings, which was met with a heartfelt laugh from the toddler.

"He’s been moping around all morning waiting for you to show up. Thanks for not disappointing him." Blithe moved to stand a little behind Sydney so as not to get clipped by the swing now flying over her head on Charlie’s return trips.

"I’m a public servant, ma’am. I just drove by and saw some public in need of serving." The joke got Blithe to smile, which went unnoticed by Sydney who had turned her attention back to Charlie.

The tall expert swing pusher was like a dream come true for Charlie. He had to ask her to stop instead of her getting tired. When she lifted him out of the bucket seat Charlie hugged her leg before leading her and his mother over to one of the benches.

"Hey, Charlie, how’d I do?"

"That was great, Cai. Would you play with me?"

"Don’t you want to play with your friends?"

Blithe butted into their talk before Charlie started stuttering from nerves. "Charlie’s working on winning these guys over. Right, Charlie?" The little boy looked toward the jungle gym before looking at Sydney and nodding. In every generation there was one kid the others took pleasure in picking on. For these set of three-year-olds it was Charlie. The nervous speech impediment had been what had set him apart.

"You know something, Charlie?" asked Sydney.

"Wha..wha…what?"

"The other thing I’m pretty good at is pulling the merry go round." Sydney pointed toward the empty piece of playground equipment. She just hoped she could get some traction going with loafers on. "Want to go and give it a try?" He held his arms up as his answer and smiled from his new high perch on the trip over.

"Not too fast, I get motion sickness." Blithe warned as she sat in the middle holding her son. The look she got from Sydney was like the gauntlet of challenge being thrown down. "I mean it. You aren’t going to like it if I throw up on that nice cable knit sweater and the chinos with the creases from hell." Sydney rubbed her hands together before grabbing onto the bar and started a slow trot. The scream Blithe let out when she really sped up made everyone in the park look over just in time to see Sydney jump on with them.

"Are you ok?" Sydney was starting to feel the cool air through her shirt when she’d had to strip off her sweater. She didn’t think the blonde was serious about getting sick. The one good thing was that Charlie hadn’t gotten caught in the return of Blithe’s pancakes from that morning.

"Sorry about your sweater."

"It’s not like you didn’t warn me. Either that or you and Charlie have something against someone with a neat appearance. You aren’t looking too good. You want to lie down?"

Sydney buckled Charlie into his seat and Blithe into the passenger side of the van before driving them to her office. An hour later Charlie was sitting on Sydney’s desk coloring while his mother took a nap on the leather couch at the back of the room. The attorney would look up from her work to smile at Charlie every so often liking the company of the quiet child. Blithe slept through the pizza the other attorneys ordered for lunch, but Charlie soaked up the attention the adults doled out without hesitation.

At two, Blithe woke up to a strategy session that concentrated on anticipating all the motions the defense would most probably file. The sight of a sleeping Charlie in Sydney’s lap made her smile more than the picture now hanging off the attorney’s filing cabinet. She sat still listening to Sydney call out case numbers from memory complete with where in the file the assistants would find the arguments needed. The quick mind was the downfall of more than one defendant when they reached the trial stage.

It wouldn’t be the last time Blithe spent the afternoon in Sydney’s office so Charlie could spend time with his new best friend. The friendship between the adult and child grew as the weather grew colder, and Blithe couldn’t help but get swept away by Sydney’s generous nature. Nothing romantic had grown between them, and the social worker wasn’t going to encourage anything for fear that Kay would use it against Sydney. The problem now was too much time had gone by for Blithe to confess what Kay had asked her to do, less Sydney shut her and Charlie out of her life.

Sydney never talked about Kay during their Saturdays or during the nights they took Charlie to dinner. A few calls from Kay let Blithe know she was still in the house but Sydney was growing more suspicious. The itch as Kay had put it, had grown into a full-grown obsession, and no request from Matt was refused. The more that happened, the more distant Sydney became.

"How about hamburgers tonight, Charlie? Think we can talk your mother into that?" Sydney looked at the little boy sitting at the small desk next to hers that Sally had found and set up for him. Blithe sat on the sofa finishing the mound of paperwork that had accumulated from the fieldwork she’d done. With Sydney not minding sitting with Charlie during some of her confirmed afternoon office hours, Blithe had been able to take on a larger caseload. She was saving for a new van since Sydney had shied away from the current vehicle after the lollipop incident.

Charlie nodded his head, which wasn’t surprising since he was agreeable to anything Sydney suggested. After five Saturdays on the playground he was the envy of the other children with his non-tiring playmate. "Sounds good, Cai. How about you, mama, sound good?"

"Are you letting me pay?" Blithe asked Sydney.

"No."

"Then I’m not going."

"Not even if I asked you real nice?"

"No, I’m not going unless you let me pay. I don’t want you to think Charlie and I are freeloading off of you."

"It’s not freeloading if I ask you to go. Isn’t that what you told me before you bamboozled me into a ride so you could stick old candy on my suit pants?"

"That was different."

"How do you figure?"

"I wasn’t asking you to dinner and I offered to have the pants cleaned."

"You offered to take me to dinner and did you know bubblelicious lollipops tear fabric when you try to pull them off of fine wool?"

"They didn’t, did they?"

"They did, but they made the most attractive shorts I own. Only if I try to wear them in the summer I’ll die of heat exhaustion, so, my lovely friend, you owe it to me to take you and my little buddy out to dinner."

"Since I ruined your pants, it’s the least I can do," said Blithe blushing at the compliment.

"That’s better then. Pack it in, buddy, I’m tired of looking at these walls."

The case she was working on was finished and Sydney wasn’t going to miss working for the next two weekends. Her parents’ anniversary party was the next Saturday, and the whole family was going up on Friday afternoon. The summer home the elder O’Sheas had purchased ten years prior was going to be the location for the family reunion and Sydney was looking forward to some down time on the beach and on the golf course. Grace had picked Biloxi, Mississippi as the second home’s location claiming the two hour drive was far enough away to leave job stresses behind, but not too far to make it a pain in the ass to get to.

"Doesn’t this look cozy." Kay stepped in with out knocking wanting to see if Sydney was free for dinner. She had given the attorney long enough to calm down and now it was time to reel her back in.

"Hey, Kay, it’s nice to see you again." Blithe stood up and put her shoes back on.

"Blithe," said Kay without any further greeting.

Charlie didn’t know who the lady was but she was making his mom sad. "Ca..Ca..Cai, can we g..g..g..go?"

"Sure, buddy, can you and your mom give me and minute? Blithe, why don’t you and Charlie go sit at Sally’s desk and I’ll be right out. She has some M&M’s out there special just for Charlie." Sydney picked up Charlie’s bag and handed it to Blithe then closed the door to her office.

"I thought I’d come to the mountain since you’re never home anymore." Kay sat on the corner of Sydney’s desk and crossed her arms.

"Pining away for me at home were you? Funny, if you missed me so much you should have returned my calls. There were five today alone."

Kay smiled thinking the cold shoulder she’d given her partner was working, and finding her with Blithe was an extra-added bonus. "Did you miss me, darling?"

"The dealership called, it’s time to service the car and they couldn’t get in touch with you. But now that you’re here, I’d like you to set aside some time for us to talk. Things can’t go on like this, Kay. Life’s too short to be this miserable."

The small blonde exploded off the desk and stuck a finger in Sydney’s chest. "Funny you weren’t so miserable with me before you started fucking your new little whore."

"What in the hell are you talking about?"

"Come on, Sydney, little Blithe with her pathetic little kid. Tell me you’re not fucking her."

"Get out."

"I’m not done. God, I led you to water and like the predictable ass that you are, you helped yourself. So much for all those principles you love to go on about."

"I don’t think you heard me. Get out." Sydney moved closer to her and Kay took a step back. "Get your screwed up ideas and get the hell out of my office. You may think a good offense is to become defensive, Kay, but don’t push me. Since you like the word so much, I’ll fucking make your life miserable if you ever talk about Blithe and Charlie like that again. They’re my friends, so don’t cheapen that with your twisted fantasies."

Sydney grabbed her briefcase and chose to leave instead. Two anxious faces looked up when she opened the door and she smiled to make them feel more at ease. The frosted glass panel wasn’t the best sound barrier when she raised her voice. Anything Kay had said was forgotten when she saw Charlie’s lip start to tremble. That night was the first time in weeks Sydney had heard him stutter. Going down on one knee, Sydney opened her arms and scooped the child up when he ran into them.

"Sorry about that, little buddy. I didn’t mean to yell." Sydney spoke quietly to the child in her arms but looked at his mother as a way of apologizing to her as well for what was said.

"You’re not going to be our friend anymore? I promise t..t..t…to try be…better, Cai."

"Oh, sweetheart, you didn’t do anything wrong. Take a deep breath for me. I love being your friend, Charlie, don’t ever think differently."

"Pinkie swear?" He held up his little finger the way Sydney had taught him, getting his mother to smile. Unlike Charlie, she’d understood the whole argument in Sydney’s office. The attorney put up her finger and Charlie wrapped all of his around it and shook.

"That’s a binding contract, buddy."

Charlie took a nap in the new child’s safety seat in the back of Sydney’s car. Blithe had insisted on the large towel it sat on, saying it would take her getting a second job if something happened to the leather seats. They headed to a restaurant Sydney frequented in college, and the word joint popped into Blithe’s head when the attorney shifted the car into park.

"I can smooth it over with Charlie if we’re causing you too many problems." Blithe kept her head forward and tried to sound sincere. If the only way she could have Sydney in her life was as a friend she’d take it, but not at the expense of the prosecutor’s piece of mind.

"I don’t think I could come up with a suitable explanation for not seeing Charlie again and it’s what I do for a living. Unless you think I’m doing him and you more harm by being in your life."

"No, you’ve found the little boy I knew was always trapped in there. I was only trying to do the right thing."

"You really have got to stop doing that. Think of yourself for once and go after the things or the person that’s going to make you happy."

If only you meant that, thought Blithe as she put on a forced smile and nodded her head. "I have to tell you that I’m pretty happy with my life now."

"Blithe, I can’t promise you and Charlie anything until I’ve cleared up the mess my life has become, but if you give me time…."

"You take all the time you need, Mordecai O’Shea, I’m not in a hurry. Don’t you want an explanation on what Kay said earlier? I’m ready for my cross examination."

"I know what Kay’s after, sweetheart, I don’t need to hear it from you. I spend my life dealing with people who have perfected the art of lying, which has made me an excellent judge of finding the truth no matter how hard people try to hide if from me. Charlie and you can’t hide what you two are, just like you can’t fake your feelings because it would go against your true nature. Mine is to bring the best person I can into a relationship and give the person I’m with the honor of my word backed by my actions."

"I can’t ask for more than that, and if you want the truth from me just ask."

Sydney opened the backdoor and released Charlie from his seat. The restaurant’s looks didn’t detract diners from filling up most of the tables and the entire bar section. Fabulous aromas were coming from the kitchen and Blithe was sure there was an inch of grease on the walls, but she trusted Sydney’s judgment. They seldom ate at the same place twice and all the places they’d tried had been kid friendly, so what was a little food poisoning if Charlie was comfortable.

"I know what you’re thinking and I promise the oil they fry everything in is hot enough to kill the black plague."

"Comforting thought, counselor."

"Mordecai, is that you with a little Mordecai?" The booming voice was coming from a table toward the back where a big man sat with a young child. Next to them was a table of four men who watched the door and the other patrons but didn’t have any food in front of them. The thing that made them seem out of place was they were all wearing suits.

"Vincent, don’t tell me you’ve gone and taken the plunge? I thought I would’ve heard a wail coming from the eligible women in the city the day that happened." Sydney told him when they moved closer.

"Mordecai, meet my little sister, Alicia Carlotti. Alicia’s named for my father’s mother."

The elder Carlotti had lost his wife five years prior in a car accident and had taken another trip down the aisle two years later with a woman that was younger than his daughter. Sydney hadn’t realized the union had produced more children. Vincent Carlotti III and she had gone to school together from high school onto to college. The future head of the Carlotti crime family was smarter than his father, which made Sydney think he would no more get caught by the feds than the old man.

"Vinny, this is Blithe and her son Charlie. Blithe, this bum is Vincent Carlotti an old school pal of mine." Blithe looked at her after the introduction and thought Sydney had lost her mind. Unless there were a lot of other people running around the city named Vincent Carlotti, they were talking to a gangster.

"Nice to meet you, ma’am. Don’t worry, the feds outside only start looking into your background if you’re seen with me more than two times in a row," joked Vinny.

"I’m glad you have a sense of humor about it."

"You get so used to those guys you start to forget they’re there sometimes, only sometimes though. You heard about the old man?" Vinny asked of Sydney.

"Dodged another bullet is the story on the street. Tell him to stick to the feds, Vinny, he shows up on my doorstep I’m not going to be so nice."

"It’s the one thing he thanks God for every night, that you decided to stay making the chump change down at the zoo on Tulane working for Gilbert. The day they put federal in front of that prosecutor’s title of yours and stripes might be a new family look for us." Vinny signaled one of the guards who brought over three more chairs. Sydney waited for Blithe’s nod before sitting down.

"Flattery will get you no favors if the day should come, Vinny. Tell me about this little beauty."

"Alicia’s dad’s final masterpiece as he likes to say. This beautiful girl as you put it, is what makes him want to get out of bed some mornings. It’s my job to take her out to dinner every so often so she can learn what it’s like to be a Carlotti. Not to mention she has me wrapped around her little finger. I’m having so much fun I might just find a girl and have a couple of my own."

"Don’t teach her too much. I’m glad you’re father’s happy. Despite his colorful past, I always liked him. I used to smile in law school when we studied old case files and his name came up over and over again. Made me feel like I’d grown up with someone famous. The media missed the boat passing out the name ‘The Teflon Don’ too late. Gotti beat three convictions to your father’s five."

"He’s going to be sorry he missed being here tonight to listen to you say that. I’m not just blowing smoke, Mordecai, he really likes you. You three go ahead and order while Alicia and I go and pick out some stuff on the jukebox."

"I thought only your mother got to call you Mordecai?" Blithe looked over the menu written in grease pen on the wall and tried to sound miffed.

"If you’re in the family business that has a tendency to kill people, I don’t have a problem with whatever they want to call me."

"So he’s that Vincent Carlotti."

"Yes, and his father’s even more of that Vincent Carlotti than Vinny is. Vinny’s just learning, his father’s committed more sins than Al Capone and then some."

"You’re one fascinating character, Mordecai." Blithe looked at her and arched a blonde brow daring Sydney to fuss at her for using her given name.

"I’m glad you think so, Ms. Thompson. Might I suggest the swamp burger, it’s the best thing up there."

They ate as Vinny told Blithe about some of their more risqué adventures on campus when they were in college. At one point Blithe laughed so hard that coke shot out of her nose making the social worker turn red from the blush it caused. She waved good bye to Vinny and his little sister when they all got up to leave and laughed again when Sydney waved to some of the agents that were sitting across the street watching the activity around the cars getting ready to depart.

Sydney pulled up to Blithe and Charlie’s house promising to come back in the morning to drive Blithe to her van that was still in the courthouse parking lot. "I wanted to ask you something before you two went in. You don’t have to answer now, but I’d like you and Charlie to come with me next weekend to my parents’ anniversary party. We could stay the weekend if you like or we could just go for the Saturday night party and come back."

Blithe just looked at Sydney like the attorney had asked her to walk naked down Canal Street at noon. In all the time they’d known each other, the young mother had not met any of the members of Sydney’s family. The only time Sydney had ever rescheduled time with her and Charlie was when a last minute dinner invitation had come from Grace. But not ever meeting them and not knowing who they were was ludicrous.

"Are you sure?"

"That it’s my mom and dad’s anniversary?"

Blithe hit her in the arm to make Sydney get serious. "No, that you want me and Charlie to go with you?"

Sydney thought she understood some of the hesitation and for the first time put her palm against Blithe’s cheek. "You’re a beautiful woman, Blithe, you should know that without me telling you. If you don’t want to go because you have other commitments I’ll understand, but don’t turn me down because you feel like you aren’t good enough or you won’t fit in."

"Thank you for saying that, I didn’t think you were interested in anything besides spending time with Charlie. Not that that’s a bad thing."

"I’m sorry I gave you that impression, I love Charlie, but I’ve noticed his mother too. You promised me time to get my affairs in order. Not that we’re having an affair but you know what I mean."

"I know what you mean. And you’ll help me by telling me what I’ll need to bring, right?"

"I’ll do something even better."

Blithe waited for Sydney to go on but the attorney just stopped talking but hadn’t removed her hand from her cheek. "What?"

"Go to bed, Blithe, and take the shrimp with you. What I said will make sense to you tomorrow."

Sydney pulled into her own driveway after seeing her friends inside their house for the evening. She sat in the car for ten minutes trying to calm her emotions down when she saw Kay’s car in its designated spot.

The clank of Sydney’s keys on the kitchen counter brought Kay to her feet in the living room. The fight she’d started at the DA’s office was now, she realized, pushing Sydney too far. With a few glasses of wine for company, she’d practiced her apology since she’d gotten home. The silk nightgown wasn’t lost on Sydney when she walked into the room; unfortunately for Kay it was too late for reconciliation.

"The apartment lease is in your name so keep it if you want, same goes for the car. The movers are coming in the morning for my grandfather’s desk in the study along with the bookcases and cabinets in there that belong to me. The rest you can keep." Sydney moved to the study and bolted the lock she’d had installed knowing what Kay’s temper was capable of.

"It’s not that easy, Sydney."

"Sure it is. This isn’t a divorce, Kay, it’s a break up of something we both don’t want anymore. I would’ve loved to have parted as friends but I don’t like you all that much at the moment."

"Who takes care of me now?"

"The same person who put the hickey on your neck, lover. If that wasn’t a rhetorical question, my answer is I don’t care."

"So it’s all right for you to run around and screw some pretty thing, but when I do it I get tossed aside. Is that how it works with the high and mighty O’Sheas?"

"I’m not sleeping with Blithe, if that’s what you’re implying. You wanted me in a committed relationship and that’s what you got, Kay. The one that stepped out on that arrangement was you, not me." Sydney moved to the bar and poured herself a scotch from one of the decanters.

"Please, Sydney, I asked her to come on to you so I’d have some leverage if the need should arise."

"Smart of you to do that. Always be prepared, eh? You must have been one hell of a scout."

Kay laughed despite the rising anger that was taking over her reason. "So you’re telling me you fell for the act? The kid was a nice touch the first time she ran into you. I’d just gotten off the phone with her, so you’re being there playing the caped crusader couldn’t have been better timing."

"I live to please, but that’s not important now. What you’re saying is you did all this for me because you love me? You cheated so I should be given the same opportunity. I must say your sense of fair play boggles the mind."

It was Sydney’s calm demeanor that drove the reporter insane. No matter what the situation Sydney could be counted on to keep a cool head. When the attorney sat in one of the wingback leather chairs in the room and crossed her legs, Kay had the urge to rip Sydney’s eyes out. The yelling she’d gotten earlier had surprised Kay but this was the Mordecai she knew, the persona known in the courtroom as Ice.

"I do love you." Kay stopped when Sydney put up a finger.

"You love the money more. Sad thing here is, it’s my money, so when I go it goes with me. If you wanted to keep the money and me, you should have kept your panties on. You’re going to blame me I’m sure, but take it from someone who knows guilt, Kay. You’re guilty. In court it wouldn’t have been hard to prove."

"I’m guilty of what, you bitch?"

"Greed." Sydney put her glass down and stood up. She had wasted enough time playing games with Kay. Looking at the reporter now, there wasn’t anything that remotely reminded Sydney of what had attracted her to the woman in the beginning.

"Does it matter to you at all that I planned Blithe coming into your life?"

"Yes, congratulations, your plan worked beautifully." Sydney heard the scream and the shattering of the heavy crystal glass against the door when she stepped outside. It was done.

Continued Part 2

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