When you walk into the room, you know I stand on shaky ground…I’ve built so many walls around me, now the walls keep tumbling down
I don’t care whose right or wrong, only know I love you so
Why did I have to write this song?
I should’ve never let you go
Should’ve never let you go
Should’ve never let you go
Neil Sedaka and his daughter echoed and slowly faded in unison. Maura was on her second Manhattan as she glanced around the bar, taking in its detail to decor.
She didn’t dare go to the Robber, because her inner circle, the people she loved and adored most, were Jane Rizzoli’s family members and she couldn’t face them right now, knowing what had just happened between them.
So for the time being, she conceded to the Rizzoli home court advantage and chose a new watering hole of her own.
The music was soft and very mellow for late afternoon, and guests were very sparsely scattered at tables. She wondered if many people would come in for dinner midweek or not. If it became too animated, Maura would simply go home. The irony to this being she had not wanted to go home alone, upset and get sloshed. Instead, she might merely get sloshed or at least tipsy in public. Then she would go home.
At least that way, she could drop her clothes at the en suite door, and collapse on her bed in a thoughtless oblivion which was preferable to reliving her afternoon conversation with Jane.
The mere dread of it brought their conversation back to her mind.
First of all, they had barely argued in their seven year relationship. They became fast friends through working together and over time, they were practically inseparable. It made sense that in a field dominated by men that they would begin to spend time together and build a bond of their own.
That’s what women did,right? They had book clubs and shoe shopped, compared fashion notes, went to museums and coffee houses. At least, that’s what men thought they did and it might nearly be true of Maura.
Dr. Maura Isles was Chief Medical Examiner for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts and she worked very closely with the detectives of the Boston Homicide Unit due to the fact they were sending no less than one or two bodies to her morgue every day.
Jane Rizzoli was a seasoned detective with the Boston Police Department and as soon as she moved from the Narcotics division to Homicide, she and Maura saw one another daily. After a few exchanges of hello, Jane offered Maura coffee one day in the BPD Cafe. It was rather an unspoken relief between them that they were in the minority and now had someone to confide in.
As the ’new gal,’ Maura needed help getting her feet on the ground and Jane was perfect for that, as she was unafraid to put the male officers in their place when they openly leered at the Doctor.
Jane was all-girl athlete, boxed, kickboxed and ran and used her little free time to spend with her clan at a local bar. There were still days though, no matter how many years she had been working murders, that a crime scene would eat at her and she refused to show any hint of vulnerability or wavering to her fellow officers. Maura’s arrival had been a godsend to Jane before she even realized it.
Four months previous, they had been a little intoxicated after the office New Year’s party and Jane kissed Maura. They both discounted it to the alcohol, though both knew better. Neither wanted to admit what had been building between them for quite some time.
Maura enjoyed the kiss, but Jane had been sufficiently rattled. It was late at night and they were coming out of Maura’s office after the party. Jane was slightly taller, but Maura’s heels made them closer to the same height and when they were waiting for the elevator to leave, Jane’s arm was already around Maura’s waist as they leaned against each other to walk, and without hesitation, in between banter and their laughter, Jane leaned in and kissed her softly on the mouth.
Maura kissed her back and tried so hard not to act overeager. The elevator bell startled them apart and they got on board, each retreating to a different side of the car. Of course, neither of them mentioned it after that.
Maura was quite frustrated over their relationship of late, especially after the leukemia scare. She was not only more aware of her own mortality, but running alongside it, was her biological timebomb about to blow. The sad truth was that she and Jane were going to grow old alone together. ’Alone’ as in ’catlady’ alone only she would be a turtle lady. She had even begun to wonder about what to do with Bass if something should happen to her. He was not getting any younger either, and often sat idle to the point he impersonated furniture. It couldn’t be good for him when you factored in her long work hours.
Maura sulked into her drink, and glanced up at the bartender, oblivious to the woman approaching who sat down beside her.
She thought he was returning to offer her another drink, when she realized the brunette sitting to her right ordered a martini. After the martini, she glanced at Maura hypnotically, stating ”Stunning.” Then she questioned, ”Is that a Valentino Spring collection?”
Maura smiled and actually turned slightly on the bar stool to look at the woman, who was wearing a very stylish pinstripe business suit with a pair of suspenders exposed where her jacket fell open.
The stranger removed her sunglasses, stuffing them into her bag as she awaited Maura’s reply.
”Yes it is, how kind of you to notice.” Maura resisted blushing, fought it with all that was within herself.
”Oh, not kind at all, I am a bit of a clothes whore myself,” the lady confessed. ”Can I get you another Manhattan?”
”No, thank you, I have had enough. Maybe a glass of wine would be nice.”
Maura was still smiling over the ’whore’ remark and extended her hand, I am D-” She stopped herself, and let her title dissipate into thin air. ”Maura Isles. Thank you for the wine.”
”Spade. Kate Spade,” the woman kidded, adding ”I have always wanted to do that, sort of Bond. James Bond thing,sorry. I am Bette. Bette Porter.” Bette reached out and took Maura’s hand in a very genteel shake, not her standard business grip.
”Actually, you look pretty terrific yourself in the Kate Spade, Bette. I have about three or four of her suits. I just don’t feel like my height carries them off as well as it does with a taller person, but they are ridiculously comfortable, so I couldn’t resist.”
The waiter returned with the wine glass and made Bette’s martini.Maura realized her dainty Greek salad from lunch was not going to carry all this alcohol, so she asked Bette if she would like to share a table.
”I don’t have a lot of time, but that would be nice while I wait,” Bette offered.
Great, Maura thought,While she waits for whom? I must be getting drunk if a stranger in a bar is turning me on. But, why not, Jane turned me down. It’s evident I am free to choose.
Excuse me, Maura,I didn’t quite hear you,”
Bette said over her shoulder as she was standing up.
”Oh, I was just saying there are quite a few tables to choose from.”
Maura stretched the truth and followed Bette to a table near the front overlooking the street.
The small talk continued as they drank and Maura ordered a plate of necks on the half shell, and also a cheese and fruit plate they could nibble on.
Bette lived in Los Angeles and was the curator of the California Arts Commission gallery. She had been in Boston looking over the work of a couple artists she was considering for her gallery. Her ’wait’ was actually killing time prior to her flight home to the West Coast. It made Maura a little sad, as she actually liked this woman. A lot. Then she wondered if the alcohol was talking again.
Just as Bette sucked in a small cube of cantaloupe, a shadow appeared in the glass above their table. It startled her a bit, but Maura knew what was coming next.
Thirty seconds later, Jane Rizzoli was standing at their table, glaring at Maura with her signature ”Really?” look.
”Jane,” Maura addressed somewhat coldly.
”Maura, is this your answer to what happened between us, run and find–”
”Excuse me,” Bette interrupted. ”I seem to be interrupting something, Maura.” Bette started to scoot away from the table, and Maura urged her to stay.
”No, Bette, you aren’t. There is nothing to interrupt. This is Jane Rizzoli, one of my co-workers. Jane, Bette Porter,she is in town for her art gallery work.”
Jane felt like an absolute ass. She had stormed in on Maura and a client for the Isles artsyfartsy Foundation. She started to apologize.
”Maura, I’m sorry. I didn’t know this was work or for your mother. BUT you know we need to talk.”
”Agreed. This is not a good time Jane, okay?”
”When will you be free?” Jane was pleading for a chance to put things right between them, but Maura was still too steamed.
”Not before tomorrow. I’m not ready to to speak to you yet, okay? Meet me at my office after work tomorrow.”
”Maur- I apologized, okay?”
”Bette interjected, ”I really can go, Maura. This sounds time-sensitive.” Ha! Maura thought to herself. It’s been seven years, what is one more night, but she didn’t voice it. She was getting more annoyed at Jane for the intrusion though.
”Jane, please, leave this alone til tomorrow and after we both sleep on it, we can talk. I am too mad to speak about it frankly. So leave our table, please, or I will. How did you find me anyway?”
”Wouldn’t you like to know,” the detective seethed smartly, giving Bette another once over.
”Are you following me?” Now Maura pushed her chair back from the table, and she and Bette stood at the same time.
”Maura, here’s my card, give me a call if you ever get to California.” Maura fished out her card and scribbled her cell number on it. ”Call me when you come back, and I can introduce you to my mother. She knows quite a lot about art.”
Bette smiled and questioned,”Oh,” as she zipped her jacket up.
”Constance Isles, maybe you have heard of her?”
Of course Bette’s jaw dropped and Maura smiled, ”Yes, I grew up calling her mother.”
Jane was astonished at this exchange and realized in her gut, that she was the problem and Maura was not. She didn’t know how she was going to fix it, but she had to or someone like this, this ’Bette Porter’ person could take Maura away from her.