Page 89 of Road Trip
I drove to my house on high alert. My partner, Manny, was off duty and agreed to meet me and watch my back while I moved my important stuff out of the place and packed up enough clothes. For the past week I’d been scrambling for clothes to wear and I was a little tired of it. I missed my Calvins. I wasn’t a clothes hound or anything, I just liked my comfy undies.
Manny was out front when I arrived, glaring at a car parked a little down the street. He pulled out his phone as I got out of the truck and he turned with his hand on his sidearm so whoever was in the car would see it. I planned to grab my extra weapons to bring with me. I didn’t want to make Abra uncomfortable, but I was not going to be caught without a weapon again.
“What’s up?” I asked him as I approached.
“Yeah, it’s Officer Manuel Ramirez. Badge 6242. I need you to run a plate for me.” He read off the numbers to what I assumed was dispatch. The car started up and slowly rolled toward us. He and I both watched, like sitting ducks, as the car sped away. I had to admit my heart was pounding and I felt a little panicky. Ramirez stayed cool, though, which was why I’d always loved him as a partner, even if he could be a jerk.
“Can you leave a message for the Lt.? Tell her this plate was casing Graham’s place. I’ll call her later. Thanks.”
“Thanks, man,” I said, shaking his hand.
He looked pissed and that was not a look I’d ever want aimed at me. Standing around six foot two and weighing about two hundred sixty, Manny Ramirez was one tough dude. At thirty-five years old, he was in better shape than most people in the department and he was on the S.W.A.T. team as well as riding patrol with me. We’d met while in training for the Police Olympics where he’d won medals in boxing. Shortly after that he’d transferred to Hayward PD from Oakland PD. He was always professional on the job, had never had any complaints against him. We’d become partners and then friends, and I knew he’d have my back no matter the circumstances, which was the only reason I allowed his constant razzing.
“So who’s this lady? Is she hot? She let you take her in the a—”
“Don’t you dare, Ramirez! What the heck is your problem? You know I’d never answer that!”
He chuckled to himself as he checked all of my weapons in my safe and loaded them into his duffel. He said he’d store whatever I didn’t take with me at his house. “I’m sorry, dude, but you should have seen your face! I want to know, though…is she just as into you? I mean, of course she’d fall all over you, Mr. Underwear Model.”
“It’s not like that. She’s different, man. She’s older. She’s like established and very complex.”
“Older? Damn! Like how old? Are we talking cougar territory?”
I threw a book at him. “Throw that in there, too. And no, she’s no cougar! I just don’t think she would normally be with someone like me.”
“What? You got a picture of her?”
I thought about that for a minute and remembered that yes, we’d taken a selfie at the Slash show. I pulled it up on my phone and showed him.
“No smart aleck comments,” I warned.
Ramirez rolled his eyes, until he got a load of my woman.
“Holy fucking shit, dawg! She’s beyond hot! She’s on fire, dude. She looks like one of thoseSuicide Girls. You heard of them?”
I shook my head, confused.
“They’re like, burlesque dancers or something. They strip and stuff but don’t do porn or anything. I bet she’s one of them! Oh my God, dude, you have to introduce me! It’s obvious you can’t handle all that.”
I snatched my phone back. “That’s not funny! I happen to be in love with her, all right? So stay away.” I was furious.I didn’t think Ramirez would do anything, but I’d never been serious about someone like this.
He stepped back with his hands up. “Graham, dawg, you know I’m just fucking with you, it’s just…dude, I never thought I’d see you get serious about anyone. I mean, I knew you dated, but I almost thought…you know.”
“Really? Because I don’t screw every chick I go out with and tell you about it? I can’t believe you. I’m not gay, Manny. That’s…I can’t believe you.”
“It’s just that you’re so finicky. Picky. You want everything so perfect in your life from your appearance to your fucking patrol car. Don’t you know there’ve been questions? I mean, no one doubts your ability to handle yourself, especially not after they’ve seen you on the streets. But you never talk about chicks. You never even react when they hit on you. I don’t know, dawg. I’m sorry.”
“Just because I like things neat does not mean I don’t like women. I just never wanted to feel like this about anyone and have to deal with a relationship and the job. Now I have to, because I’m not walking away from her.”
Manny held his hands up. “I get it. I do. Why do you think I never got married? But then I’m a pain in the ass. You’re a good man, Kelly. You deserve to be happy and have a life outside the job. It is possible, you know? Look at the Lt. She and her wife are doing awesome. The captain and his wife? They’ve been married for thirty years! Of course, there’s always shit like my cousin’s situation. She was having an affair with a cop, and he was killed in the line of duty before their daughter was born. She was a badass, though. Best damn mom I’ve ever seen to her daughter and she turned out good. But you gotta go into it knowing the possibilities. You just can’t let them keep you from what you want. Life happens. You could die in a fucking bathroom fall accident just as likely as getting killed on duty. Life fucking happens and you can’t do a damn thing about it.”
“You sure are a ray of sunshine,” I added with a humorless laugh.
“Just keepin’ it real, dawg.”
I went to my bedroom to pack up clothes, still dwelling on our conversation. Had he really thought I was gay? Other people in the department, too? What the heck was wrong with having manners? I guess I was a little more out of touch than I thought. I’d kept myself isolated in a way, so focused and driven. But if that was leading to people questioning me, I was going to have to rethink that strategy.
I’d kept to myself to avoid drama. My mother and sister provided enough of that to last me a lifetime. A big part of Katie’s depression stemmed from Mother’s need to have a trophy family. The pressure was a lot more for Katie than me. I set my own goals and chased after them with a vengeance because I was driven, not just to keep Mother off my back. Katie wasn’t built the same, and Mother was always disappointed in her. I never wanted to do that to my own children.
