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Part 7
“So, what happened?”
“We called it off.”
“C’mon. Lisa, this is me—what happened?”
“He was screwing my sister. That clear enough 4 U?”
“Shit…I’m sorry.”
“N then they went on MY honeymoon. Jesus. I even paid 4 it, stupid me.”
“I’m so sorry—don’t know what else 2 say. Just so sorry 4 U.”
“I know. Yes, it’s pretty horrible. I’m returning all the presents now. The
thanks anyway cards are a little awkward.”
“I guess.”
“But other than that, the play was great, Mr. Lincoln. Nice resort—U should
go sometime. Go with someone U want to share it with. Beautiful place.”
“That a hint?”
“No. I’m off men 4ever. They all suck. I hate them all.”
“Me?”
“U don’t count—U’re not real. U’r an e-mail or an IM on my computer.”
That made Dick stop. She was hurting and he knew that—he’d been through it
himself, but he wasn’t real? “Lise, I M real. I’m here 4 U.”
“No—U’re sitting at a desk with a keyboard in front of U. U’re not even a
voice on the phone. U’re fantasyman.”
“I’m me. I’m real.”
“Sure, whatever. L8R.”
* * *
Bruce turned back to his monitor, it seemed that the two youngsters were going
through a rough patch. Perhaps this would finally be the end of this ridiculous
long distance relationship between the two of them. Yes, of course it was an
interesting insight into Dick’s personal life and his real feelings about
things, but it was also obvious that this girl was simply out to use Dick as an
emotional crutch and Dick seemed to be returning the favor by leaning on her as
well.
It should have stopped years ago, but, well, never mind. This had its uses.
“I would think that this might explain why Master Dick has been a bit
uncommunicative of late, Master Bruce, would you agree?”
“Hmmm? Yes, I suppose it might, yes. Have we heard from him recently?”
Alfred rolled his eyes. Much as he loved the master, he could be remarkably
dense a times and there was simply no getting around that. “He’s coming to
dinner his evening, if you’ll recall, sir. I expect him imminently.”
“Oh, good.” That simple sentence was spoken as distractedly as it was humanly
possible to do so as Bruce turned back to his computer, Alfred dismissed.
* * *
“Lise? C’mon, answer.”
* * *
“L?”
* * *
“U know I didn’t mean anything. I’m sorry. Pls.”
* * *
“Lisa, stop being a bitch. This is stupid—answer. Yell at me but answer.”
* * *
“Oh, Dick, you’re here after all.” He didn’t notice Dick’s outstretched hand,
but then he wasn’t really looking at Dick anyway.
Dick bit back a snide retort, barely managing to not either roll his eyes of
shake his head at the usual non-greeting. “Always good to be back. What’s the
occasion, and where’s Jason—he busy stripping out cars this evening?” Bruce
seemed to miss the sarcasm. Dick had entered the Manor through the kitchen, much
to Alfred’s pretended annoyance, immediately forgotten as he’d been hugged in a
typical Grayson unrestrained way when he was dealing with the old man. The
dinner was ready, and they sat in their customary places, Bruce at the head of
the table and Dick to his left. The salads were already in place.
“Jason is at a movie. So, things all right down in Bludhaven? I understand that
you’ve done a lot to help the situation.”
“How did you hear that?”
“Jim Gordon and I had lunch a few weeks ago. He says that you’re getting some
good notices—you should be careful about that kind of thing, makes you too easy
to target.”
Well, this was starting out well. “No shit.”
“Excuse me? First of all, drop the attitude and secondly, you know as well as I
do that what you’re doing is dangerous and unnecessary. You’re as effective
undercover—in fact, you may be more effective that way.” He sipped his
wine, a very old and very good Bordeaux. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about
something—I’m thinking about legally adopting Jason. Thoughts?”
Dick had a sudden feeling of dizziness coupled with a detached moment of
unreality. He was that easy to replace? Bruce had decided to order up another
kid and this time make it ‘real’?
Dick carefully removed he napkin from his lap and placed it beside his plate as
Alfred was bringing in the entrees. “I’m sorry, Alf, but I forgot that I have an
appointment this evening. Another time, okay?” And he was gone.
“I’ve never been quite as disappointed in you as I am at this moment.” Alfred
gave Bruce the looked which eventually evolved into the Batglare—this was where
he learned it. “This is your doing and if that young man stays away merely
another six months it will be sheer luck—I hope you realize that.”
* * *
“Lisa, answer—I need 2 talk.”
“About?”
“Good! U’r there. About things—us, B, all that crap.”
“We’re crap?”
“NO—c’mon, don’t do this, ok?”
“OK—what’s the prob? U sound like U’r on the rag.”
“I feel like it.”
“I’m sorry U thought I was an ass about U’r ex. I’m sorry—been through it and it
sucks.”
“Yes—thanx. What’s really bothering U? This isn’t like U.”
“Job is going ok—B thinks I should quit. B thinks I should never have signed
on.”
“Do U?”
“No. I’m doing the right thing.”
“So stay. What else?”
“B—same old.”
“Like?”
“He’s adopting some half-assed kid. Told me 2nite.”
“Y?”
“Y? Who the fuck knows? He does whatever he wants.”
“But he adopted U—deal with having a lil bro.”
“HE NEVER ADOPTED ME. I WAS JUST HIS WARD AND THAT ENDED WHEN I TURED 18.”
“What???????”
“How’s that for a kick in the head? This kid is in the house 4 six months and
he’s a legal son. I was there 4 10 years and zip.”
“There has to B a mistake.”
“No.”
“B loves you. U know that.”
“Sure.”
“D, U know he does. Talk 2 him.”
“Y? No point. It’s done.”
“U’re done?”
“What dif?”
“D—don’t do this. Talk 2 Alfred.”
“…”
“D—TALK to A.”
“L—L8R.”
“D—no—TALK.”
“D.”
“D, dammit—talk!”
* * *
Two months later
“D? U there?”
“Yes.”
“U better?”
“Yes.”
“Talk to B?”
“No.”
“Talk to A?”
“Yes, he doesn’t understand it. Sez B wants 2 replace me or some crap like
that.”
“Replace U? What does that mean?”
“B needs a kid around 2 look up to him, 2 teach.”
“Ego?”
“Maybe.”
“Y doesn’t he have his own kid?”
“Ask him.”
“D, c’mon.”
“Sorry.”
“Hurts, I know.”
“Yeah.”
TBC
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