Chapter 10: Long Night

JD picked up another copy of Virginia Law Review and caught sight of the clock as he did so. 2:46am. Charles was no doubt long since in bed. He thought about turning in for the night himself and then imagined the cold, empty room waiting upstairs. He took another sip of bourbon and opened the magazine. One more, he thought to himself, one more issue and then I'll turn in.

This would be the 12th 'one more issue' of the night.

Sometime later Charles shook him awake. It was well past sunrise and his son was dressed, "Now, come on Dad, we had an agreement." Nominally being that the office was Charles' during daylight and JD's at night.

"I'm up." JD answered but neither opened his eyes again or made move to get out of the chair.

"You a lie." He shot back, poking him, "Come on, now. Rise an' shine."

JD swatted aimlessly at the poking finger, "Quit that, boy. Show some respect."

The phone rang and frowned as Charles answered it. He put the call on hold. "Alright now, Dad, that's uh conference call. So you kin either head on outta here or you kin talk ta Marcus. Take yo pick."

JD forced himself up, "I can't talk ta Marcus 'fore I had a full pot uh coffee. I'm gettin'." He yawned and stumbled upstairs, "Need my own office 'round here." By the time he got to his room, however, he found he had no desire to climb into bed.

He looked at the headboard. It was relatively new. They had bought it after the third time he tried to tie her down. They spent so much time laughing because her hands kept slipping free that he simply got dressed, drove to the nearest store and bought the first bed frame with four posts. Three hours later, she was strapped to the new frame and all laughter had been exchanged for moans of pleasure. Later that night, she tied him down for the first time and he got to see what all the fuss was about.

He smiled. After that, they bought a couple pairs of padded handcuffs. Much stronger - and less expensive - than his silk ties. Neither of them found pain much to their liking but a little bondage, a few toys and a bit of latex does wonders for the imagination. They were turning the basement into a playroom and were considering making a small one in Reedville as well.

Were. Past tense.

He showered and dressed for the day. After a quick cup of coffee and a brief wave to Charles, he drove in to Washington. Twice a week he met with Bill to see how various issues were progressing. So far, it seemed productive. Bill seemed to genuinely appreciate JD's insights and JD made a point of not talking to Paul about policy decisions. 'The decision process needs to be between Bill and Paul', JD reminded himself frequently, 'you in the way, old man.'

He was very careful to avoid Helen when he was in the office.

He was in the elevator on the way to the garage, when the doors opened and Miss Bogud was the only one waiting. He groaned silently but did not speak. She stepped on, looked at the lit button and waited for the doors to close.

"You're a jackass, you know that right?"

"Good evening, Miss Bogud, I trust you had a pleasant day?" He did not look at her, although for some reason, he could just remember how her skin tasted. It was a far more sensual thought than he wanted to have at the moment and reminded him forcefully of just how long it had been since he held Rachael.

"She sleeps with one guy and you throw her out? No discussion?"

"Quiet day in our office. Not much going on, overall." He continued as if she's responded in kind.

"I wouldn't care if she slept with one guy a day."

"I suspect, Miss Bogud, that you would not care if she slept with one man an hour. You and I have slightly different criteria for fidelity."

"Did you give her a chance to explain why it happened?"

"Did she tell you who it happened with?"

"You are an arrogant, self-righteous, mean-spirited, hypercritical bastard and I hope you die alone." The elevator doors opened and Helen strode out and across the parking lot. JD watched her walk. He did not remember being a lecherous old man so he could not understand why all he could think of while Helen was yelling at him was taking her into his arms and burying his face in her more than ample cleavage.

Die alone. He seemed destined to now. Without Rachael, days seemed longer, work meaningless, family had become obligation. Charles. Charles should be in Reedville with Lizzie and the children not in Falls Church with his father. Maybe then, JD should just retire from everything. Bill had the firm more or less under control. The Fishery certainly did not need him. Falls Church was quiet and convenient. He could just live there off his annuity income without bothering anyone else. Claudia was re-married. The boys were all grown. Wilton had Rachael.

The though always made him run cold, as if someone poured ice water through his veins. He seemed to have it at least once a day. He found himself standing next to his car and not quite sure how he got there or how long he'd been there. He was much more absent-minded of late. One more proof that he was an old man - too old to be chasing young girls barely his son's age. He got in the car and drove to a bar-and-grill near the house. He ate there often enough that the wait staff recognized him, if they didn't know him by name.

He sat at the bar, ordered a sandwich and a bourbon and water and stared at a matchbook cover. He didn't have any contracts to review. There was no pending legislation to analyze. No woman in his life to think about.

"You alright?"

He looked up to see the pretty, little thing tending the bar looking at him. She was small and almost elfin with short, dark curly hair around a round face and bright green eyes. He smiled wanly, "Fine, honey. Thank you."

"You don't look alright."

"I have just realized that I have outlived my usefulness." He said with a deep sigh, "Happens to the best of us. Don't you worry 'bout me."

"What happened to your daughter?"

He frowned, "Mah daughter?"

"Yeah, didn't you used to come in here with a tall girl, 'bout 25, real long hair?"

He stared at the girl for a moment. Daughter. They thought Rachael was his daughter. "That" he cleared his throat, "That was my, uh, my girlfriend. My fiancée."

She looked embarrassed, "Oh, my god. I'm sorry I didn't mean ... She looks really young." Then she leaned over to him, "Actually, we sort of had a kind of running thing around here 'cause we weren't sure." She stood back and grinned, "So I'm kind of glad I asked. So where is she?"

JD tried to get his face and emotions under control, "We, uh, we are no longer seeing each other."

"Oh," she lamented, "I'm so sorry to hear that. Well, you'll find someone new. You're young. You're cute." She tapped his glass, "Refill?" He nodded and she popped down the bar.

Young. Cute. Two words that even Rachael would never have applied to him. He was neither young nor cute. Nor was he open, friendly or likely to find someone else. Die alone; Helen's words came back to him. The girl brought his drink and a few minutes later his dinner.