Epicene

Penny For Your Thoughts

April 3, 2002 

Dearest Brother Francis,

Well, I managed to piss off my partner on only the second day of our working relationship. He didn't take too kindly of my filing a complaint on his car being vandalized. Caz informed me rather quickly that he'd choose the battles to fight, not my decision. He formally dismissed the report made to Captain Barnes above  her entreaty. And like a child having his bottom swiftly smacked, I apologized for sticking my nose in a fight that wasn't mine. I just wanted Caz to know I would protect as I hoped he would return the favor. 

With that incident out of the way and my nose a little straighter on my face, we began discussing players on the scene and developing strategies. The bears eavesdropped unabashed. For once they were quiet as opposed to the day before. I think Caz holding his own and accepting the gender slurs with grace he was garnering second glances of earnest interest if not of a more respected nature. In our private discussions, he spoke with authority, knowledge and casualness that were difficult to ignore. Often I would be silent just to listen to his voice and familiarize myself with both his facial expressions and body language. 

He looked over at me occasionally to find me in some sort of trance. Silence would set in, I would smile absent-minded and offer my suggestions. Seemingly reading my mind, Caz asked, "You seem lost. A penny for your thoughts?"

Offhandedly I countered, "Uhhh... nothing in particular." 

"Yeah, right," seemed to be his quippy byline when immersed in disbelief. 

"When you decide you're comfortable enough to ask those personal questions that are making you blush, let me know," Caz smugly informed. He was certainly right about that. My cheeks felt as though they could blast off the front of my face all the way to the Mars without a hint of rocket fuel. NASA would pay good money for this undiscovered renewable energy source. 

Later that day, Caz invited me to eat with him at his parents house. It was customary to bring home guests and his parents were expecting me. I hoiped he told them I was a vegetarian or this evening would end in either my still being hungry, throwing up all over the place or insulting his parents. None of which I wanted to occur. Again, Caz seemed to read my thoughts. "Don't worry. Mom makes a wonderfully filling Greek and pesto salad," he reassured. That's all I needed to hear. 

"Just don't expect Pops to be overly endearing. He doesn't like at all that I followed in his career footsteps and the manner in which I chose to do so," warned Caz. He seems to think I've disgraced the uniform and profession. If only he knew how nasty some of the detectives' appearance on the squad are," Caz added. 

Laughing, I chimed in, "I second that motion. I may not be the most fashionable, but I take pride in nicely laundered clothing that I like and fits my style." 

Caz with a grin, "You know you could wear blue more often and not just in ties. The color compliments your eyes," Caz quickly looked away only to return his gaze at my downward cast blushing smile and soft laugh. I guess he finally feels comfortable around me, or he wouldn't have said what he did. 

I followed Caz to his parents home and his current living space. Parking Kari on the side of hte road, I dated the architecture from the 1930's. Craftsman era style with an open front porch style sporting two columns with plinths doubling as self-contained flower planters. It reminded me of a home I never had. 

Caz's mother was just that, a loving creature of femininity and maternal instincts. I presented her with a freshly cut Spring bouquet of flowers to decorate the dinner table. She argued that I shouldn't have, but was overjoyed with the expression. She padded off to the kitchen like a 1940's wife and snuck a few peeks into the living room now and then to offer drinks and snacks before dinner. 

Caz had aptly described his father. He embodied the hardened demeanor about him. However, it wasn't long before I was breaking down walls as I discovered he had been a Vietnam Veteran. We discussed wars and bureaucratic policies most of the evening before dinner. I felt Caz becoming tense and somewhat left out due to bonding with 'Pops'. 

Apparently picking up on his son's discomfort, Pops told Caz I was what an officer should look and act like and that Caz should be proud to have such a wonderful partner to watch his back. Embarrassed at w hat I may  have caused, I looked down at the floor. Gathering up my courage, I looked Caz senior straight in the eyes and soothingly said, "I'm the one who should be honored to have your son protecting me. He demonstrates quite a skill with guns. I've read where he beat out SWAT teams in the international competitions, for Italy. From whom did he acquire those skills?" 

Looking in Caz Jr.'s direction with a smirk he informed, "I guess that's the only thing I've been able to pass onto him. Certainly not my ch oice of clothing or... otherwise." 

At that instant, I became very wary of Caz's spearing eyes. I looked up and gave a soft wink and smile to note my disapproval of his father's statement. 

Caz cautioned me in a whisper as he walked into the kitchen doorway, "Pops would replace me with you in a heartbeat if you aren't careful. By the way, he's not the person he pretends to be. At least I keep IT real." 

I quickly distracted the current explosive climate with attention to the Radinsky piano and asked Caz Sr. if I could play a tune.

"Sure, knock yourself out," he bid permission. 

Carefully I chose a tun that both Caz nad his parents would readily know and appreciate. After striking the first few cords, Caz and Mrs. Radinsky appeared from the kitchen to enjoy the peaceful rendition. Caz began to sing Mom lightly mouthed and danced in revelry to the beat. The tension now relieved, even Caz Sr. piped in with his baritone voice to complete the quartet. Soon after our unrehearsed  Broadway debut, Mrs. Radinsky announced dinner was thankfully served. 

As promised, Mom had prepared a most luxurious salad and accompanying pasta. Pops noted that I needed to eat some meat, but I managed to politely refuse citing a gall bladder and cholesterol disorder. He only nodded and noticed the odd manner Caz and I interacted. From different worlds, yet not that far apart. Caz had a home and parents no matter the problems. I had none. Yet both of us, incurably lonesome. At least, I hope my presence would ensure a more quiet evening at home later on for Caz. 

Before leaving, I complimented the finely prepared dinner and Mr. Radinsky's conversation. I said goodbye to Caz and offered that I too could cook and invited them to come over my warehouse apartment sometime. Of course I knew they wouldn't, but perhaps Caz might. That would be nice. Someone else to entertain besides me, myself and I.