Page 26 of Best Served Cold
Morgan Finch took a step back from the counter and flattened her hair, exhaling towards the wooden flooring below. “It’s hard for me to live with myself knowing what you saw, too. And yet at the same time there’s this weird, crazy, part of me that is somewhat glad that it happened…?” she questioned, shaking her own head now, as if confused by her own sentiment. “It’s out there now, in the open. It’s been the elephant in the room with me for years, hell, it’s been the whole fucking herd. You’re the only person in the world that I wanted to tell. Now that you know, I feel like I can finally just…breathe.”
Lee Holmes couldn’t help but appreciate the irony in Morgan's words. Since discovering who her girlfriend was, she had found breathing to be harder than ever. “I’m glad that I know. Truly, I am, if only so that I can make my own decision about what to do with that information. I deserve that, at the very least. Except, it’s hardly a normal thing to find out about your spouse. I would expect you to consult me if you wanted to buy a new couch, for instance. I’d want the choice of color, and shape, to be a joint decision. But this isn’t buying a new couch, Morgan, it’s…” she paused, trying to figure out the right thing to say. “I want to be informed about matters related to you-know-what, but Idon’t think I want to know about the color, or size. Perhaps just knowing that you’re buying the couch is enough.”
“You’re right,” Morgan responded, calmly, allowing the atmosphere in the room to die down. “No more surprises.”
“A secret birthday party is a surprise, babe. What you did in our living room could hardly be considered as cut from the same cloth. I’m only asking that you don’t leave me completely in the dark, but that you respect my boundaries at the same time. My final request is that you will answer any questions I havewheneverI desire to ask them. This needs to be on my terms, Morgan, not yours. I’m sorry, but those are my deal breakers.”
Taking a cautious step forward, Morgan extended an arm, placing her hand against Lee’s own. It was then that Lee acknowledged that her own body didn’t tense at all. “Whatever you want, or need, I’m all in. I'll do better, I promise. You know what they say; happy wife, happy life, right?"
Lee wasn’t entirely opposed to the fact that her heart fluttered around the term ‘wife’, and perhaps whilst the timing was inappropriate, the act was seemingly out of her control. Perhaps their trip to Paris was a fleeting memory, but for the first time in a while, Lee Holmes believed that new recollections would soon be blossoming in its place. She exhaled, in an act of defeat, or relief, she wasn’t sure, squeezing Morgan's hand in the process. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I'm all in, too."
Chapter Twenty-Two
When Morgan Finch returned home from work the following day, for the first time in what felt like a long time, Lee was not there in the hallway to greet her with an inquisition. Instead, she had just exited the shower, wrapping a towel around her body as she dried her hair with another. An orange dress lay upon the heated towel rack ready for her to put on in preparation for a dinner reservation with Diana.
It wasn’t something she or Morgan could necessarily afford, especially as their rent had only recently gone up, but Morgan’s mother had become increasingly persistent about spending more time together, and, after private discussions with Morgan about Diana, they both agreed that the fundamentals of Diana’s work, combined with her acquired-taste personality, had resulted in her having very few friends to spend time with.
This was something Lee Holmes would no longer complain about, despite her finances, or her common distaste for spending time with Morgan’s mother. She wouldn’t complain, because Morgan had told her only a few weeks ago that she had felt bad that Diana had few people in her life to mingle with, andthat the both of them could be a nice, welcomed distraction for her.
If Morgan could think and say these things, and have empathy for another human being, even if it was her own mother, it was comforting. It settled Lee more and more into the notion that her girlfriend wasn’t missing the part of her that made her feel things.
Morgan entered the apartment, followed by the bathroom just as Lee had finished drying herself, placing the towel on the heated radiator in favor of her matching underwear combo. Her girlfriend was in her construction gear; a high visibility jacket and baggy brown cargo pants that were slightly too big for her. Her hair was pushed back, messy, and caked in dust and sweat. “Looks like I got home right on time,” Morgan said, a smirk lighting up her features as she edged closer towards Lee, extending a hand out in front of her in order to stroke her bare waist.
Lee laughed, retracting Morgan’s hand as she did so in order to put her underwear on. “You can look but not touch,” she said, as she pulled up her underwear over her legs. “You barely have enough time to get ready let alone do anything else.”
“I only need five minutes,” Morgan said, exchanging her previous smirk for a grin now, as she took off her high-vis jacket, exposing her dirty white T-shirt underneath.
Shaking her head, Lee wrapped her arms around her back and clipped her bra on. “If you think I’d be willing to give you those five minutes after I’ve just showered when you look…like that…” she said, gesturing to all of Morgan with her hand. “Then you need your head examined.”
“Noted,” Morgan laughed. She pulled her white shirt off, discarding it to the floor, revealing her torso, still bruised, underneath. Her cargo pants followed shortly afterwards, andLee took her girlfriends disrobing as her cue to exit, grabbing her dress from the towel rack.
Upon entering the hallway, she looked down at the floor, and smiled, before throwing the dress she was once holding towards it. She turned back around towards the bathroom, took off her underwear, and entered the shower for the second time that day.
Lee Holmes did everything in her power to tune out the phone conversation that Morgan was currently having in the bedroom with her mother, Diana. It worked to some extent in the respect that she only heard the occasional words or phrases such as “understand,” or “don’t worry.” What she couldn’t do, however, was stifle the inner dialogue of her mind, telling her that Diana had discovered something about the both of them that would shatter her world.
Upon Morgan re-entering the room, offering a half-smile in Lee’s direction, she allowed herself an exhale as she sank into the couch; an act she hadn’t been able to commit to in their living room for over a week, her mind and body still repellent of the idea of even occupying the space. As a result of their proximity now, she could hear the entirety of Morgan’s side of the conversation, stifling her inner dialogue entirely.
“Honestly, it’s fine, Mom. What you’re doing is far more important. It’s not like we never see each other. Just don’t stress, okay?” Morgan said, her phone between her ear and her shoulder as she searched around the living room, for what, Lee was unsure. “I’ll talk to you later, love you.”
Shifting forwards in her seat, Lee observed her girlfriend removing the couch cushions beside her, followed by looking underneath the coffee table, huffing at every interval. “Losesomething?” Lee asked, a half-smile reaching her own features now at the notion that everything was fine, for starters, whilst also relishing in the normality of her girlfriend’s disorganized nature.
Morgan barely acknowledged Lee as she spoke. “The television remote, we need it, like…immediately,” she said, her head turning from left to right as she searched, not looking at Lee for a second. “Oh, and by the way, my mom cancelled our dinner plans.”
Lee began to laugh slightly now, feeling more comfortable by the second knowing that Morgan’s priorities were focused more on watching the television and less on the possibility of being caught. “I figured,” she said, standing up now herself in order to begin searching alongside Morgan, checking behind the couch initially, followed by underneath it. “Why do we need the TV remote all of a sudden?” she continued, still crouched down.
Morgan halted her search for a moment, addressing Lee directly as she stood up once again. “It would be easier to just show you,” she said, looking Lee in the eye for a fraction of a second before her own eyes lit up as she made her way over to the couch for a second time, this time removing the cushion Lee was sitting on minutes prior. “Voila!” she said, upon finding the remote, before immediately switching on the television whilst they both sat down.
Lee’s eyes found Morgan’s side profile as she sat to the left of her on the couch, the woman’s eyes facing forward, focused only on the television as she opened the electronic television guide, flicking through with one of the buttons on the remote. Turning her own head now, Lee looked at the television, and felt the impact of an invisible force hit her square in the jaw when the channel Morgan settled on was a news one.
Just like a real punch, the feeling settled gradually as the television depicted scenes that made sense to neither her, norMorgan. Placing the remote control on the coffee table now, Morgan wrapped an arm around Lee and sank into her, allowing Lee to settle further into the feeling of being comfortable, and less on high alert.
She settled for a moment or two, but only a moment or two. The moment passed when a photo of a man illuminated the screen, and the atmosphere in the room changed completely, as if the invisible force that had hit her had just pushed her head underwater and she had suddenly forgotten how to hold her breath.
Her hands lay at her sides, fists clenched, whilst the television spoke.
Police are looking for a Mr Arthur Strickland, male, mid-fifties, in relation to an ongoing investigation. His last-known location was at Tony’s Garage, his place of work, however, it is now believed that he returned to his place of residence only yesterday evening.
Lee leaned over Morgan’s body, retrieving the remote from the coffee table. She adjusted the volume on the television, turning it up a few notches whilst the news anchor continued.
