Chapter 3: Wagging Tongues

January 20, 2002, Chicago, Illinois

🎤 Jesse

“Are you doing anything tomorrow?” I asked Macrina after church on Sunday morning.

“Going to my mom’s brother’s house in Rockford. I want to see you again, but Dad is being a pain in the butt, and hockey and church make weekends difficult!”

“I know, which is why I was hoping you were free tomorrow.”

“I can probably see you next weekend. I asked Mom about coming into the city and she said she’d drive me, but someone would have to bring me home. When is your hockey game?”

“Saturday morning at Johnny’s Ice House. If your mom brought you to the game, that would work.”

“I’m sure Mom would be OK with that, because it’s even closer.”

“And what did you want to do?” I asked, suspecting I knew the answer.

“Have you poke me with your big stick as much as possible!”

“I think that can be arranged,” I replied with a grin.

🎤 Steve

“Gorgeous!” I said to Liz when I greeted her at the chapel.

She was wearing a royal blue dress which perfectly complemented her black hair, and which showed off her sexy body without being immodest.

“And you look amazing in your tuxedo!”

“Julius is a very lucky man.”

“And so are your wives! Well, lucky women!”

I chuckled, “Every bit as pedantic as I am!”

“Yes, but my pedanticism required me to be trained! You’re just that way naturally!”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing!”

“Are you ready?” Elyse asked. “The judge and Julius are waiting for you.”

“Ready if you are,” I said to Liz.

“Let’s do it!”

“That might not be a good idea,” Elyse smirked.

“Behave!” I declared.

“Oh, that’s rich!” Liz said with a soft laugh. “You telling someone to behave! Well, besides Penny!”

“Or Birgit!” I added. “Shall we?”

We left the room and went to the front of the chapel where Julius was waiting with a judge from the Cook County Circuit Court who had agreed to do the wedding of the two lawyers, telling Julius that he was happy to ‘keep it in the family’.’ The ceremony was very quick, lasting less than ten minutes, which was about half the time it took for the photographer to take the pictures of Liz and Julius, as well as Liz and her friends, Julius and his friends, and, with Julius agreement, Liz and me.

“Thanks, Steve,” Liz declared. “See you at the reception in a few hours!”

“We’ll be there! Jess appreciates you scheduling it so she could attend.”

A couple of hours later, Kara, Suzanne, and I arrived at Bucktown Bistro. We were a bit early, but that gave me a chance to flirt with Sam and chat with Alex.

“You Americans love your wars on inanimate things,” Alex said. “War on Crime, War on Drugs, War on Terror ... how about trying peace for a change?”

“Don’t look at me!” I insisted. “I’m opposed to intervention and want ALL the troops brought home, with the possible exception of the ones in South Korea. Our President, on the other hand, is looking for full-scale invasions of Afghanistan, and to listen to the rhetoric, Iraq. And I voted Libertarian!”

“Alex,” Sam interjected, “do ANY of these Navy men who eat here regularly agree with going to war?”

“No,” Alex admitted. “But they feed the system by joining the military.’

“And,” I countered, “are necessary to the defense of the country, our allies, and to keep the shipping lanes open. The problem is not the military, it’s the civilians in charge of the military. And we could prevent most of the BS interventionism by restructuring the military, such that the vast majority of ground troops were Reserve or National Guard units. That would provide an automatic pause while they were activated and called up, and make the political price for going to war much higher.”

“An interesting concept.”

“The Navy and Marines,” I continued, “would be the ‘first responders’ if they were needed. And that really wouldn’t hurt national defense, as any invasion, despite the fantasy in Red Dawn, would be nearly impossible. The Chinese have no navy to speak of, and they sure aren’t going to walk across the Pacific. The Russians would have to try to come through Siberia and Alaska, and I think we’d notice if they were foolish enough to try that. Our Navy and Air Force would close the Bering Strait instantly. We’d have plenty of time to activate our units.”

“Are you running for President?” Alex asked. “I might actually vote for you!”

“I doubt it,” I chuckled. “I don’t believe Washington, DC, should control healthcare, I believe the federal government is far too big, I think taxes ought to be lowered and I believe the true minimum wage is $0.”

“Zero?” Sam asked.

“He means people would be fired if the minimum wage is raised,” Alex said. “It’s a fairly tired argument with no real basis in fact.”

“Businesses have to be profitable,” I said, “and other than their initial capitalization or borrowing, all of their available cash comes from their customers. If costs increase, prices have to increase, quality has to decrease, or you have to find efficiencies. You can argue that the business models are all wrong, and I won’t disagree with you, because that’s not how I run NIKA, but in the end, a business only has limited funds to spend before they’re forced to raise prices. YOU know that, because we’ve discussed your costs when we work out our agreements for the special meals.”

“And the CEOs all take home millions at the expense of the little guy.”

I nodded, “That is a major problem, and one I debated with a businessman friend. Eventually, the peasants rise up and take everything from you if the disparity in income and wealth is too great. That’s why our lowest-paid people make enough money to live comfortably in Chicago, and our highest paid people make far less than people in comparable positions. I can’t give you a fixed ratio, but someone making ten million while employing people who make $7.00 an hour is seriously problematic in my book.”

“So you’re a socialist at heart!” Alex said with a grin. “Good to know!”

“It’s pragmatic,” I replied. “But it’s also the right thing to do. You take less out of this place than most owners would, because you pay your staff better. It’s the same basic principle, even if we have fundamental philosophical differences. And you know we agree on most civil rights issues, and, more importantly, we both detest George Bush!”

Alex laughed, “Common cause between a socialist and a libertarian! Who’d have thunk it! I do have to correct one thing you said — defense contractors get piles upon piles of taxpayer money that could find much better use.”

“No argument from me. While I believe in a strong national defense, the military-industrial complex is little more than an enrichment scheme for their shareholders at the expense of the people.”

“As I said, we’ll make a good socialist of you yet!”

“Alex, you’re a capitalist, just as I am. This place proves it! Hell, if a Canadian can be successful here, anybody can!”

“You adhere to our national religion, so what does that say about YOU?” Alex grinned. “And your favorite player is a French-Canadian!”

“I think he’s got you there,” Kara replied.

“Hush, you!” I commanded.

“The room is ready for you,” Sam said.

“Thanks,” I replied.

“Where’s Jessica?” Sam asked.

“Probably elbows deep in somebody’s guts,” I replied. “She’ll be here once her shift is over, which, if things go right, means she’ll be here right before we start dinner.”

We headed to the banquet room, which was created by opening the movable walls between all three private dining areas. Alex had arranged his last seatings such that the restaurant would be empty by 8:00pm, and tables would be moved to create a dance floor in the main dining area. We were the first to arrive, but over the next thirty minutes, most of the guests arrived, including all the ‘Saint Martin Six’, each with a spouse or significant other.

“Fond memories?” Samantha asked after I’d affectionately greeted Louise, who was the last to arrive, with a boyfriend in tow.

“There’s no way I could forget,” I replied. “Nor could I forget a certain hayloft in a barn in Plainfield.”

Samantha smirked, “You’re still the only one to get the ‘Wonder Woman’ experience!”

“Is Brian coming home soon?”

“No. There’s an op on. You can guess where and what. Howard is at Diego Garcia now.”

“We’re just going to sink deeper and deeper into the briar patch. Hopefully, our friends will all come back alive. Just because they’re in non-combat positions doesn’t mean they’re safe.”

“Nor does being at your desk minding your own business on a quiet Tuesday morning.”

“True,” I agreed.

“Before you move on to talk to others, I wanted to let you know that Wendy Cobb accepted the role as Chief Security Officer at Spurgeon. She’ll start on February 11th.”

“I’m not surprised. I was reasonably sure she was a good fit, and as an honest cop, she needed to get out of the CPD.”

“The only way that’s ever going to be fixed is to start putting leadership in jail. Complete transparency and an independent civilian police review board with actual teeth. And no contract that in any way interferes with oversight.”

“And you think I have ideas which are impossible to implement!”

“A girl can dream, can’t she?” Samantha asked impishly.

“So can a boy!” I agreed, knowing exactly what she meant.

The guests mingled and drank, and Liz and Julius arrived about twenty minutes before the meal was to begin, followed almost immediately by Jessica.

“You look ravishing,” I said to my wife when I greeted her.

“I spent all afternoon doing chart reviews, grading papers, and reading medical journals. The ER was a ghost town today for some reason.”

“Don’t complain, Jess!”

“Never!”

We sat down, enjoyed our meal, and later, just before she and Julius were to leave, I had a dance with Liz.

“I’m very happy for you,” I said as we danced chastely.

“Thanks. Will you survive without me for two weeks?”

“I have Jamie, Deborah, Ben, and Bob to keep me out of trouble!”

“They’ll have their hands full!”

“And you don’t?” I asked.

Liz laughed softly, “Oh, I do, but it’s my full-time job!”

“I’m lucky to have you.”

“And I’m lucky to have you, too.”

January 21, 2002, Chicago, Illinois

🎤 Jesse

“What are you going to do?” Libby asked when she arrived at my house after breakfast on Monday morning.

“About?” I asked.

“Angelina! Duh!”

“Well, if I don’t do it with her, I’m letting my dad control my actions. If I do it with her, I’m having sex with a girl who had sex with my dad!”

“You already did that!”

“Yeah, I know, but I didn’t know, if you know what I mean.”

“Get your dad out of your head!”

“Easier said than done,” I replied.

“Obviously,” Libby confirmed. “How many virgins will it take to solve the problem?”

I laughed, “And you’ll provide however many it takes?”

“Let’s just say I know some girls who want to have the starting goalie of the hockey team ‘twitch their twine’ for the first time!”

“You do realize that a goalie tries to STOP that from happening, right?”

“Is your dad as difficult as you are?”

“Worse!” I replied with a grin. “He’s had twenty-three more years to practice! So, out of curiosity, who?”

Libby giggled, “Out of curiosity, huh?”

“I am actually curious.”

“CeCe, who plays first base for the girls’ softball team, Kenzie, who plays second-chair sax in the concert band, and Riya, Mr. Kassidy’s daughter.”

“Oh, sure, that would be a grand idea! Fail math AND get booted from the hockey team!”

“I didn’t say you should tell him!”

“And how is it that you know about these girls?”

“CeCe asked me if you had a girlfriend, and I told her you weren’t interested in going steady. She said that was fine because she just wanted the ‘Jesse Block experience’.”

“The what?!” I asked.

“I might have mentioned how great you were in bed,” Libby replied.

“Wonderful!” I replied sarcastically. “And how did THAT come up in conversation?”

“Some girls were talking about what they thought it might be like and I volunteered information. They put two-and-two together.”

“Some girls?” I asked.

“CeCe and Kenzie, plus a couple of other girls. The others are probably interested, but they haven’t said anything specific.”

“And Riya?” I asked.

“She’s Kenzie’s best friend.”

“You do realize this is pretty much exactly what happened with my dad in Junior High and High School, right?”

“And that’s a bad thing? Seriously?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“First of all, you’re my best friend, and shouldn’t a best friend tell their best friend when a girl wants to fuck? Second, I can guarantee they haven’t been with your dad. Third, you’re a red-blooded hockey player and you should get ALL the benefits of being a star athlete!”

“And you want to watch, right?” I asked.

“That would be cool, but I don’t think the girls would go for it!”

“And you think having sex with those girls would be a good idea?”

“It wouldn’t be a BAD idea,” Libby tittered. “And, just think, they have friends. And those friends have friends!”

“You’re a nut!” I said, shaking my head.

“Takes one to know one!” Libby replied with a silly smile. “So, what are you going to do about Angelina?”

“See her after class. I’ll decide before then.”

“And the other girls?” Libby asked with a smirk.

“I’ll think about it,” I said, mostly to get Libby to drop the topic.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” she asked.

“Adi will be here for lunch, but otherwise, no plans. Is Karli going to be here?”

“Yes. You didn’t practice this morning, did you?”

“No. When there’s a public holiday on Monday, we skip practice.”

We had a fun day just hanging around the house with nothing special to do.

🎤 Steve

The call I expected came just after lunch, and I had Kimmy put it through.

“Mark February 8th on your calendar!” Officer Wendy Cobb declared. “That’s my last day on the force, and we have a date!”

“Congratulations, and I’m glad you saw the light!”

“Thanks! And you better make me see God, or I’ll shoot you as I promised!”

“You do realize it takes two to tango, right?” I asked, my voice modulated to convey amusement.

“Nobody has ever complained!”

I chuckled, “Any guy who complains about sex isn’t going to get very much of it!”

Wendy laughed, “Good point!”

“Where did you want to meet?” I asked.

“Why not come to my place? I’ll make you dinner and the bedroom is just up the stairs, so there’s no wasted time!”

“Why wait?” I chuckled. “Kitchen counter? Dining room table? Foyer?”

“I have handcuffs!”

“Not after you’re off the force,” I replied.

“I have my own set!”

“Of course you do! Don’t forget about the requirement for an STI test.”

“I should be offended, but given stories I’ve heard, I understand. Bring a case of rubbers!”

“I had a vasectomy, remember? So I will, but they aren’t necessary from my perspective.”

“I do remember, now that you mention it. No rubber ... the last time THAT happened was Prom! And it led to a brief scare!”

“A not uncommon occurrence,” I replied. “I’ve marked the 8th on my calendar. What’s your address?”

She provided an address which, from what I knew about the city, would be a walk-up brownstone, and in a fairly nice part of the city.

“Pretty good on a cops’ pay,” I observed.

“Got it in the divorce. My ex-husband works in the city’s finance department. He’s a senior guy in tax enforcement.”

“How long were you married?”

“Four years. We met not long after I graduated from the Police Academy, got drunk together, got married a couple of months later, then spent three years working towards a divorce, which is why I never considered having a kid with him. The divorce was final about two years ago.”

“OK. Remember, my price of freedom is reporting.”

“Including explicit details?”

“Kara has wifely privileges in that regard, yes.”

“Ever given a bad report?”

“Not because of ME!” I declared piously.

“Mr. Adams, I keep my promises. If you aren’t the best fuck I’ve had in my life, I’m going to shoot you in your most valuable asset!”

“A headshot is a sure kill,” I replied.

“Not THAT head!” she said, laughing.

“See you on the 8th!”

We said ‘goodbye’ and I hung up. I saw in adium that Kara was on-line, which would let me tell her.

NIKASteve: Wendy Cobb called, as predicted!
PolymerPrincess: And????
NIKASteve: I’m having dinner at her place on the 8th.
PolymerPrincess: And????
NIKASteve: I think you can work out the rest for yourself!
PolymerPrincess: I think I’m going to want details on this one!
NIKASteve: She did threaten to shoot me if I wasn’t the best she’d ever had.
PolymerPrincess: Like there’s any risk to that?
NIKASteve: You never know! :-)
PolymerPrincess: Well, I sure don’t believe there’s anyone better, though that’s anecdotal, not from experience! See you at home!
NIKASteve: Love you!
PolymerPrincess: Love you, too!

I minimized adium, brought my development environment back to the front of the screen, and got back to work.

January 22, 2002, Chicago, Illinois

🎤 Birgit

“Birgit Adams, your entire family is going to burn in hell!” Leah announced from the end of the lunch table, where my friends and I were sitting.

“I’d have to actually believe hell existed to be concerned about that,” I replied, calmly taking another bite of my BLT sandwich.

“You’ll find out just how real it is!” Leah declared.

“It’s as real as the «djinn» you ask to grant your wishes every day,” I responded. “How is that working out for you?”

My friends all laughed.

“And,” I continued, “if your imaginary being actually existed, and he, she, it, or they are that concerned about my family, they have a lot to answer for — war, famine, pestilence, death, and crazy girls spouting nonsense!”

“There’s nothing imaginary about Jesus Christ! He was a real person!”

“So was Socrates, and he basically met the same end!”

“Not even close!” Leah protested. “Did Socrates rise from the dead?”