Benny & Ray 60

Sleeping Dogs

 

  

 

 

I sat at my desk at the consulate, staring out into the dull gray sky.  Snow on the way, it looked like. I twirled around in my chair and tried to get my mind back on my reports.  Admittedly, I was distracted today. 

 

I had dropped Ray off at his second chemo this morning; despite my insisting, he told me I needn’t stay with him.  Ma was just two floors up from him if he needed anything, and I was just a phone call away, too; we were very fortunate that Ma was so close.  It certainly made things much easier. 

 

I was to pick him up at three o’clock this afternoon and take him to the house.  And then I had to go to class.  Ma and I had decided to alternate taking Ray to chemo, although I had told Ma that I would be happy to take him myself every week. 

 

I had told Ray that I was considering dropping out of school, but he’d hear nothing of it.  “Keep going, Benny,” he said.  “Whadda you gonna quit for?”

 

“But Ray—

 

“Benny, I’ll be okay.  Really. I’ve got Ma, and Maria, and Frannie, too, if I have a problem.  It’s one of the few benefits of having such a large family.”

 

“I don’t know, Ray. You sure?”

 

“Course, I’m sure.” He gave me tight little insincere smile, which certainly didn’t put me at ease.

 

Ma and I had mapped out the entire schedule for the next six months of Ray’s treatment.  I’d take him to radiation Wednesday mornings.  On the Thursdays he needed to go chemo, Ma and I would alternate.  Because Ray was on the R+CHOP14 regimen, he’d have one day of chemo by IV, five days of an oral steroid called prednisolone, and nine days medication-free.

 

Ray had been exhausted several days after the first chemo, and after the effects of the prednisolone wore off around day eight, he began to experience some nausea.  He took his anti-nausea medication as instructed, and he soldiered on with surprisingly little complaint. 

 

But I was afraid for him.  What frightened me was how quiet he has become. A noisy Ray was a happy Ray. 

 

I never truly realized how much Ray drove our daily conversations until I felt the absence of it.  When Ray had his quiet spells, the days were filled with long silent pauses.

 

Ray and I had decided it was best that we stay at the house on the weekends after he had chemo, so that Ma and Maria could help look after him.  I was grateful, because I was still struggling to catch up academically, and the weekends were my only chance to catch up.  I had a major paper to write, and needed time to research and write a draft. 

 

Of course I told my staff about Ray’s illness shortly after we received the news, and apologized in advance for my many planned absences.  Charles and Melissa were stunned by the news.  Turnbull actually cried for Ray, which I found surprisingly moving. 

 

I had been in touch with Ottawa in regards to my retirement.  I was doing everything I could to get my replacement in place sooner.  The retirement date I had given the RCMP was 17-May, but with Ray’s illness, I requested that they release me sooner. They promised to step up the candidate search. 

 

There was a sudden hard rap on my door, causing me to startle.

 

Francesca.  She wore a long black wool coat, with a fur-trimmed hood, and black gloves.

 

“Hey!” She called. “Can I take you to lunch?  It’s on me this time,” she smiled. The office where Francesca worked as a private detective’s assistant was not too far from here.  She and I got together for lunch every once in a while, and I was enjoying a new level of comfort with her.

 

I smiled back.  “Well, it’s a little early, but sure, that would be fine.”

 

“Is Joe’s okay?” she asked.

 

“Sure, give me just a moment to send off one quick e-mail, and let Charles know I’m leaving for an hour.”

 

“Okay, I’m going to stop in and say ‘hello’ to Mac.  Meet you in the lobby.”

 

 

VVVVVV

 

 

Fran and I had bundled up against the wind whipping off Lake Michigan and hurried the three blocks to the diner.  Once inside the super-warm building, we quickly stripped our outer layers, and were seated at a deep, red vinyl booth embellished with art deco style trimmings.  I ordered a thick quarter-pound burger laden with blue cheese and bacon.  She requested a Boston clam chowder and a Cobb salad.

 

“So how you holdin’up, Frase?” she asked.

 

“I’m fine.  I took Ray in this morning, and he was in good spirits,” I said.

 

“Yeah, he is taking it all rather well, considering he used to be the guy everybody called ‘Doug Whiner’.”

 

“Who?”

 

“You know- from Saturday Night Live? Doug and Wendy Whiner?”

 

“Sorry, I’ve never seen that program.”

 

“Oh Frase.  You’re like, the last person in America who hasn’t seen that show.  You must have seen some of the sketches - Hans and Franz, the Cone heads, Wayne’s World…”

 

I shook my head.

 

“Mmm-nevermind. More importantly, how’s Ray feeling? I haven’t spoken to him in a couple of days.”

 

“Aside from a little nausea, he’s doing a-okay. Are you coming by the house this weekend?”

 

“I can’t come by ‘til Sunday dinner. I’ve got a lot on my plate this weekend.  I’m hosting a sex-toy party on Friday, wanna come?” She teased.

 

Fran had recently begun selling Mary Kay cosmetics and had also resumed peddling her…adult novelties…traveling from place to place or sometimes having them at her condominium. Fran claimed to make as much income off these two ventures as she did her day job. 

 

I shook my head ‘no’; I definitely would not be attending such an event.

 

She continued, “And Mac and I are going to the movies Saturday night, and then we’re going club-hopping.  Can you believe she’s never been to a night club before?”

 

“Well, sure. Plenty of people go their entire lives without going to such an establishment. I myself have only been once, and that was rather inadvertent.  I was escorting the teenage daughter of a Canadian trade diplomat—

 

“Oh yeah, Ray told me about that one. You ended up at that fetish bar—

 

Our waitress picked that very moment to appear with our food.  She looked me up and down speculatively upon the words fetish bar.  I could feel myself turning hot.

 

I gave her an apologetic smile, shook the embarrassment off and dove into my food.  “I will say,” I said to Ray’s sister, firmly changing the subject, “that it’s been heart-warming to see people come forth and wish Ray well.  Lt. Welsh, Margarita Gamez, and Micky Doyle stopped by the house a couple of weekends ago.  Big Vinnie and Domenic came by last weekend.  Bruno stopped by and took Ray for a drive, just to get him out of the house for a little while.  Angie came by with the baby, Jack Huey sent flowers, and Elaine came by Sunday night and had dinner with us.”

 

Elaine took few bites of her salad, and sipped on Diet Pepsi before saying, “I heard somebody else came by, too.” She cleared her throat.  “Tommy?”

 

I sighed.  “Yes, Tommy came by.”

 

“That must have been a little awkward, no?” 

 

“Well, Ray asked me beforehand if it was okay for him to visit, and I said ‘yes’.  I could hardly say ‘no’.”

 

“Yeah, you could have.”

 

“But it would have looked petty. And besides, nothing was going to happen.  I was with them the entire time.”

 

“You don’t trust him, do you? Smart man.”

 

“Francesca,” I protested.

 

“Oh come on, Fraser. Ray’s never claimed to be Mr. Faithful.” She took another sip of her soft drink.

 

“Well, I’m hardly one to throw stones,” I said impulsively, more to myself than to her.

 

Francesca suddenly went into a coughing fit.  “What?!” she exclaimed when she got her breath.

 

“I…nothing.  I’m sorry. It’s not really appropriate for me to say.”

 

She pushed her nearly-full plate of food aside.

 

“Spill,” she said.

 

“I really can’t.

 

“Ben! Tell me! Tell me or I’ll tell Ray about that time when—

 

“Alright, Francesca. Alright, alright! Fine. Here it is.”  I leaned in close, and whispered, “When we were in Ecuador, Hugh and I kissed.”

 

Francesca’s jaw dropped, and her eyes went wide.  She gasped for air for a moment. “What?!! You??? Mr. Perfect? Now I’ve heard it all. Have you told Ray?”

 

“I was going to.  But then he got sick, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him after that.”

 

“Wow.  So…you and Hugh aren’t having a… a ‘thing’ now, are you?”

 

“No! No, no, no! It was just a thing that happened.  Hugh… propositioned me …but I declined.”

 

“Before or after you had your tongues down each other’s throats?”

 

“Oh, Fran, Fran, Fran.”

 

She laughed breathlessly.  “Benton Fraser, you have shocked me.”

 

“Please don’t tell Ray.”

 

“Are you kidding?  He’d shoot the messenger.”

 

“I’ll tell him when the time is right.”

 

“If I were you, I wouldn’t say anything at all.”

 

“I have to tell him.  It’d be wrong not to.”

 

Francesca pulled her plate of salad close, and began munching on it again.  “Alright.  Suit yourself.  But you ought to know when to let sleeping dogs lay, Benton Fraser.”