Entropy and Sorrow's Kiss

"God, I love it when you call me that. And what about the Jewish thing. Were you serious about that?"

"You know, kid, becoming a Jew wasn't at the top of my to-do list, but it's not a deal breaker for me, either. We're talking about the same God, after all. Just different paths to the same place."

"You'd really do it? Take the classes and everything?"

"If that'll warm the cockles of your heart, darlin'? Then yes, I will."

She looked at him with hard, disbelieving eyes, still unsure of his answers, and of her own motives in asking these questions.

"Let me ask you this," he continued. "Do you want to raise our kids as Jews?"

"No."

"Excuse me?"

She shook her head. "No. I'd do it to make Dad happy, but that'd be the only reason. I hated it. The whole Hebrew school thing, the holidays. All of it."

"Have you ever told him that?"

"Sure. That's part of the reason I left Kansas and came here. I wanted to get away from all that stuff."

"So, I just fell into his trap?"

"Nope, I don't see it that way."

"Oh? How do you see it?"

"You just fell into my destiny."

"And do you believe that should make me unhappy?"

"It should!" she said, laughing and crying at the same time.

"Well, if that's your destiny, and you just happen to be my destiny, then that kind of leaves me in a pickle, doesn't it?"

"What? A kosher pickle?"

"Not bad, Wassermann. Not too shabby."

"Thanks. But, Alan?"

"Yup?"

"You love me? I mean really, really love me?"

"Yup."

"Do you always want to be a cop?"

"It's what I am, Deb. I've tried on a few other things, but nothing seemed to fit."

"Oh, okay, it's not that I don't like what you do..."

"Then what is it?"

"The danger thing. You know, the knock on the door in the middle of the night, being told you're dead."

"I know. It happens. On average about a hundred times a year, too."

"Oh my God..."

"But try to put it into meaningful context, Deb. Every year almost a thousand convenience store clerks are killed in armed robberies, and every year about two to three thousand people die falling down in their bathtubs. So think of it this way: I'm big, I'm strong, and I carry a big fucking gun. What could be safer?"

"I need you to hold me, Alan. Right now, please."

"Right now sounds good, darlin'. Matter of fact, I think I was born to hold you right now."

+++++

He put in a request for time-off, for the wedding and a two week honeymoon, and worked his finances into shape and put in an offer on a little three bedroom house Debbie liked. A couple of days before they were due to fly back up to Kansas City he and some friends from the department moved all their things to the new house, and that was that.

Instant change, perpetual change. He liked it, liked where life was taking him, and he liked the idea of spending the rest of his life with this funny little Jewish girl. She fit him like a soft leather glove, and he felt like he was happier than he'd been in years when they were together.

The day came around and they flew north to Kansas City on a crystal clear day and checked into a very nice, very old downtown hotel; the ceremony was going to be at a nearby temple Saturday evening and the rehearsal diner and bachelor party were going to happen in the downtown area as well, so it was just easier, Henry said, to keep everything around 'one big waterin' hole'.

"Bachelor party?" Burnett remembered asking, and Henry laughed.

"Don't ask, son. You'll only make a liar out of me."

"Secret, huh?"

"Kind of, but no big deal. Thought we'd go out, have some fun."

"Sounds good. What about the rehearsal dinner?"

"At the Frog. Hope you don't mind."

"No, not at all. Great place."

"So, where's the honeymoon? Deb won't say."

"She's never been to Paris."

"Oh, so that's where..."

"Didn't say that."

"Does she know?"

"No sir, she has no idea."

"Are you going to tell me, at least?"

"Switzerland. A little village called Mürren."

"Hidden depths, Alan. You are full of hidden depths. Not sure I'll ever really get you, if you know what I mean?"

"I'm a lot less complicated than you think, sir."

"I kind of doubt that, but I am real happy you met my daughter. That you're a part of our lives now."

"Thank you, sir."

"And you're always going to call me sir, aren't you?"

"Never can tell, sir."

"Alright, son. Alright. Listen, I'm going to take Deb out to lunch at noon, and I think Elaine wanted to take you out about that time, too."

"Sir?"

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about her. She's been on the wagon for the past couple of months. She's done all the wedding stuff, you know, and she loves Debbie. Feels right to me, anyway. She's helped hold this family together for a long time."

"Yessir."

"And if she gets out of hand? Well, just put her in her place, but don't tell her I said that. You'll do fine, and she'll be alright."

+++++

She was waiting for him out on the street, in her Mercedes, an old C-class coupe from the 70s, a real classic. Silver-gray, with a light gray interior, pure MB, pure class. She said hello as he climbed in and buckled up, but remained silent while she drove through town to a small tea room near the river. A valet took the car and Burnett offered his arm and walked with her into a trim little trellised garden, and he held out her chair for her, then sat across from her in the shade.

She was if anything even more stunning than he remembered her, dressed now all in palest gray – a fine linen suit, silk blouse and stockings, very high heels, and she looked to Burnett the epitome of everything he'd ever imagined a truly fine woman could. She was, he also realized, dressed to kill, and she'd done a fine job of it, too.

An English woman brought tea and sandwiches, then left them alone in the garden as fluffy white clouds passed over their heads, leaving small, fleeting shadows in their wake.

"I assume you have something you'd like to say to me, Elaine?" he said after several awkward minutes – for not a single word had passed between them.

She canted her head a little, looked him in the eye.

"I've taken a room upstairs, Alan, and I'd like to spend the afternoon with you."

"Oh? I see." He felt his heart racing. Look, he is unsure of himself.

"Yes. I've thought of little else these past few months." She is as well, Keeper.

"It's odd, Elaine. Debbie was sure I was attracted to you. She was jealous of you, when we went home in May."

"Really? Why do you say that?"

"She told me as much, in a roundabout way."

"And what did you say?"

"I told her that you are an attractive woman. And that I wasn't attracted to you."

"And? Were you telling her the truth?"

"I was, then."

"And now?"

"Do you really want me to answer that, Elaine?"

"Yes. Very much."

"And then what?"

"What might pass between us today would remain a secret. A secret between friends. Forever."

"I see. You know that would never work, of course?"

"Perhaps, but tell me the truth. Do you want me?"

"Have you looked at yourself, Elaine?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, have you looked at yourself. In a mirror?"

"Yes, of course."

"What do you see?"

She turned away for a moment, then looked him in the eye. "An old woman, one I hardly recognize. An old woman loosing every one of her charms with each passing day. Is that what you want to hear, Alan? But now I'm curious. Why do you want to humiliate me so completely?"

He watched her, watched the trembling lips, the quivering eyes, the eyes growing moist, a tear forming.

"Would you like to know what I see, Elaine?"

"No, I'm sure I don't."

"Well, let's assume you do, for the moment, anyway."

"Alan, please..."

"When I first saw you today, when you got out of the car, when we were walking to this garden, you can't imagine how lucky I felt."

"Lucky?"

"Oh yes, Elaine, lucky. Lucky to have the opportunity to be here with you, be be with a woman as totally, unashamedly gorgeous as you. Whenever I look at you I grow weak in the knees, whenever I think of the line of your neck, the grace of your fingers, the shape of your legs – it's all I can do to control myself."

"Alright, Alan, you can cut the bullshit now."

"Oh? You think I'm playing you? Trying to make you feel better about yourself?"

"Aren't you?"

"You know, you really underestimate yourself."

She looked away, sighed. "I didn't always."

"So you feel there's something unattractive about turning fifty, or sixty?"

"Don't you?"

"Not when I look at you."

She took in a deep breath. "What are you saying, Alan?"

"Only this, Elaine. I love Debbie, with every fiber of my being. But if you ask me to go upstairs with you, to that room, there's absolutely no way I can resist you, and I won't even try. I am so powerfully attracted to you, so overwhelmed by your beauty, I would be lost. And I'm not sure I could ever find my way back."

"You were a poet once, weren't you? In another life, perhaps?"

He shook his head. "Those poets you studied were inspired by great beauty, Elaine. If I stayed with you long enough, perhaps I might find words pure enough to describe the beauty I see when I look at you, but I doubt it."

"Could you ever love me, Alan?"

"Perhaps I already do, Elaine, but with time I believe I could love you completely."

"Could you love us both? Debbie and..."

"And if I could? One love would destroy the other. How could such love ever do anything but?"

"I want you, Alan."

"And I want you."

"Do you want me enough to walk away from Debbie?"

"No."

"If I asked you to, begged you to? Would you come upstairs with me?"

"Yes."

She took in a sharp breath, looked him in the eye.

"I'm so sorry Alan."

"I know – I think I understand."

She stood, and he hurried to pull her chair out for her, then she took his hand and led him to the stairs that led to a little room looking over an English Garden, and time stood still in the shadow of another passing cloud.

+++++

The rehearsal dinner at the Frog was a light little affair; perhaps fifty of the doctor's closest friends and family were on hand, but Henry had invited several of Burnett's friends from the department to attend, and had graciously paid their way. Debbie was radiant, Henry the replete, elegant host, and Elaine had, once again and to no one's surprise, surpassed even her own high standards of sumptuous beauty.

Alan Burnett walked into the dining room, found Debbie standing beside a table with what he thought might be friends she had grown up with, and he walked to her side.

"And here he is, finally," Debbie said, then she turned to him. "And just where have you been?"

"A few last minute details, darlin'. Presents for the groomsmen."

"Ah."

"And who have we here..."

With Alan in tow, Debbie made her way through the room, making introductions and catching up with old friends, and then it was time for dinner. They sat with Henry and Ben, Ben's wife Frida and Elaine, at a large round table in the center of the dining room, and for most of the evening Elaine studiously ignored Alan, preferring instead to talk away the evening with Ben and Frida.

When at last she turned to Debbie – and Alan – it was almost as an afterthought.

"I don't suppose you two would ever consider moving back to the area?" Elaine asked, pitching the ball into the center of a discussion concerning the problems police officers face when dealing with racially charged situations.

Debbie looked at Elaine. "Not for a while, Aunt Debbie. We just bought a house, you know, and..."

"And your father needs you, Debbie."

"Now Elaine," Henry interrupted, "there's nothing pressing happening right now."

"Henry, how long are we going to keep up this charade?"

"Elaine!" Henry barked, slamming his hand down on the table. "Enough!"

"Daddy?"

"Alan?" Henry said, turning away from Debbie as fast as he could. "Let's take a walk."

"Yessir."

They walked out into the little parking lot and over to Henry's Suburban; he opened the back doors and sat down on the cargo bed, pulled out two cigars and handed one to Burnett.

"COPD. Know what it is?"

"Elaine told me about it this afternoon," Burnett said.

"Figured she might. Goddamn it to Hell!"

"Pretty far along?"

"For my age, yeah. I've probably got ten years or so, of productive life, anyway."

"What can I do to help, sir."

"Any chance you two could...No, no, that's not fair. I don't want to ask that of you. Not when you're just starting out."

"Would it make a big difference if we were here, sir."

"Not right now, but in a few years? Yes, it would be a big help Alan. The farm will belong to Debbie after I pass, and running it isn't easy. If I had a couple of years to work with you, get you familiar with everything, that would make a big difference."

"The farm? Is it so important?"

"My great-grandparents came out here, in the 1870s. Been the family's homestead ever since. Our roots are here, Debbie's roots are here. Hell, son, you can put down roots here, work in the department or go back to school, teach, you name it. Lawrence is a great town, great people, and it's not some jerkwater hick-town, if you know what I mean."

"We've never even talked about his, sir. I mean, Debbie's never talked about wanting to come back here – all of this is a surprise."

"Is it? Well, you've had a glimpse of what I'm up against with Debbie, and all I'm asking is that you consider the idea. This will be your decision, for the two of you to make, but you will be needed out here, son. I can promise you that."

Burnett nodded his head, looked off into the distance.

"Now, tell me what happened with Elaine today."

"Lunch. She wanted to talk about you, and..."

"And, she made a pass at you."

"Yessir."

"Well, I knew that had to happen, sooner or later, anyway. If you don't mind me asking, how'd you handle it?"

"I let her handle it, sir. I laid out what I thought she wanted, what was on the line, then let her make the decision. I think she made the right one."

"Oh? She upset."

"Yup."

"Well, figured that. She's been pretty cool all night long."

"She's an amazing woman, sir."

"She is that. Like my mother. Debbie too, in a way."

"Why didn't Debbie go to medical school, sir."

"Reason why most physician's kids don't. I was hardly ever around, missed a lot of her growing up."

"I think she'd be a good doc."

"Oh? You could talk her into it."

"Maybe."

"Nothing would please me more. But she knows that."

"I'm not sure if those things are really set in her mind yet, sir. Still a lot of things about her I haven't figured out yet."

Henry laughed a little. "Good luck with that, Alan. Women in general are tough, but these Wassermann women are damn near impossible. One last question, Alan, if I may."

"Shoot."

"Would you be opposed to moving here? To the farm?"

Burnett looked up to the sky, watched clouds drifting through the night and it was like all his future was being laid out before him.

"Henry, I don't know what the future holds, what will happen next week, let alone what might happen a few years down the road, but if your family needs me here, I'll be here."

"My family, Alan? Or, our family?"

"If you need me, sir, I'll be here."

"We'd better get back to the party, son, before Debbie has a fit.

There were speeches and toasts and a few anecdotes of life on the street thrown in for good measure, then Debbie and her childhood girlfriends were off to visit a few bars, while Alan and Henry set off with a gaggle of cops to hit a few strip-joints. He got back to the hotel a little after four in the morning, exhausted, thinking that Henry Wassermann was just about the greatest human being on earth.

Alan was undressing, getting ready to brush his teeth when he heard a faint knock on the door.

He opened the door, saw Elaine standing in the hallway and asked her to come in.

"Thank you for seeing me," she said.

"Elaine?"

"I just need to hold you, have you touch me, one more time." She went to the bed and sat, revealing stocking tops and garters – and, he guessed, no panties.

"This afternoon? What was that?"

"I know. I just never expected to feel the way I do."

"And what do you feel?"

"Love, Alan.

"You love me?"

"I don't know how, Alan, or why. I don't want to know, either. But I don't feel old and unwanted anymore, I don't feel like I've been discarded. I see that in your eyes, and then I feel like I've been waiting for you all of my life, and I'm not sure I can exist without you. Doesn't that sound ridiculous?"

"No. It sounds tragic."

Her eyes blinked rapidly. "Tragic?"

"This will all come to a tragic end, Elaine. For you, me, Henry, Debbie. All of us."

She stood, and he came to her, and he kissed her, lightly, gently. "I can't hardly stand to look at you Elaine."

"What? Why..."

"You are so gorgeous, yet you'll always be forever just beyond my reach. I hope you know that every time I see you, I'll want you."

"It doesn't have to be this way, Alan. We could make it work, the two of us."

"At the cost of your family, Elaine? What would we do? Move to Paris?"

She smiled. "You have been thinking about us, haven't you?"

"Yes."

"You do love me. I know it. I can feel it."

"Of course I do."

"Say it, Alan. Tell me that you love me."

"I love you, Elaine. And I will. Forever."

She flew into his arms. "Oh why-why-why!"

"Because I love Debbie. And you do too."

She pulled back, nodded her head. "You're right, of course, but Alan?"

"Yes."

"I'll always love you. And I'll always be there. When you need me."

He kissed her again, longer, and held her close.

"Oh my God," she whispered. "I could hold you like this forever."

+++++

Alan and Debbie were married the next day, just as the sun set, and early the morning next they flew to New York, then on to Zurich, but in the weeks that followed their return to Texas Alan Burnett saw the truth of the mistakes he'd made when Debbie fell away from him in a series of meaningless affairs, with interns and residents at the hospital. He didn't know what she knew about his brief time with Elaine, and in the end, it didn't matter. She had seen what she'd seen, and moved on.

Less than six months into their marriage Debbie filed for divorce, citing irreconcilable differences, and she asked that he move from the house he had bought for their new life, together.

Part II: Diane

Seven Months Later

Alan Burnett listened to an 'oldies' station, an AM radio station that had been around for longer than forever; the same station he always listened to, the same music rooted comfortably in the seventies. Steely Dan was still Reelin' In The Years as he sat in his air-conditioned patrol car, and his eyes swept the streets, his thumbs drumming away on the steering wheel while he cruised down one suburban street after another, looking for something – anything – out of place. A door standing open, an unfamiliar car in a driveway, a shout, a scream, a barking dog, Hell, even a woman in a bikini at that point in the morning would have been a welcome distraction...especially a woman in a bikini, he thought.

Less than an hour 'til lunch, he said to himself as he looked at his watch, yet he wasn't hungry – he rarely was these days.

With no significant calls so far this morning, and no reports to write, he was bored...yet something felt odd, some second sight was bothering him. The streets seemed quiet – almost too quiet – for a midsummer's morning, yet he knew there were burglars out now, because late morning was prime time on Days for burglaries. Houses on these late summer mornings were ripe for the taking, because they were either empty for the day, or for weeks on end as summer vacation rolled along, and, Burnett knew, every 'scrotey' looking car that could be stopped would be stopped, today, like every day, and brief investigations would follow. That was the job. That's how you deter crime.