Part 3
Dick googled the Richards’ again, pulling up some stories and articles
about Bob Richards, his latest promotion, all very upright and standard. The
blurbs he could find about Marykate were a little more interesting, but only
slightly. He was a glorified accountant, from what Dick could tell and she was
your generic corporate legal hack, the kind Bruce had an entire department of
working for him. They were both competent enough but neither would be likely to
rise much further and would probably spend the rest of their professional
careers working for someone else and a bi-weekly paycheck.
They gave enough to various high profile charities to garner a fair amount of
invitations to the black tie things Bruce and his crowd frequented, though they
likely bought individual seats and not entire tables. They might be social
climbers, but it wasn’t like they were the only ones and it wasn’t a crime.
They seemed harmless enough. He called Marilee around ten the next morning. “Hi,
Marilee? I may be a little late to the game but I’ll try to make it by half
time, okay?”
“That’s okay—something up?”
“Nothing major, Bruce just has some things he wants me to finish before I leave
and they’re going to take a few hours but I’ll see you later, all right?”
“Fine; do you have any idea what you may like to do after?”
“Uh…”
“Because if you don’t I usually go out with some friends but if you’d rather
not, I understand.”
“Whatever you want is all right with me. I’ll see you later.”
“Later.”
The chore Bruce had for him was mostly forensics involving evidence for a murder
they were trying to solve. A body was found by the harbour and Dick was trying
to match DNA with some missing persons. Basically, it was just another day at
the office for him but it had to be done.
* * *
“Honey, are you going to be home for dinner?”
“I don’t think so, Dick is meeting me at the game and we’re going out. I’ll call
you.”
“Are you two becoming an item?”
“Mom, god—we’ve only been out like two times; lighten up.”
Marilee huffed her way out of the house when Annaclaire honked out front, both
girls already in the cheering uniforms and on their way to get three more girls.
Marykate nodded to her self and smiled just slightly. So far, so good.
* * *
Dick showed up midway through the fourth quarter, Marilee picking him out of the
crowd almost immediately and jogged over to him. He greeted her with a polite,
public friendly kiss that didn’t go unnoticed by the other cheerleaders or a few
of the players over on the bench. Most of them had no idea who the new guy was,
but he was good-looking and had that veneer of money and wealth they all
recognized for what it was; Marilee had landed a catch, or was trying to,
anyway. Or he was using her, but then that could be a two-way street and likely
was. Whatever. It probably wouldn’t last.
Fifteen minutes later the game ended with Ridge taking another drubbing, losing
twenty-four to seven, making their record for the season one win to six losses.
So far. Not expecting much, the crowd wasn’t disappointed and left the stadium
in good spirits with Dick and Marilee heading for the Boxter, parked several
blocks away, since Dick had gotten there so late.
“So, you want to go to that after thing you mentioned?” He hadn’t even started
the engine, waiting to find out what, if anything, was the plan.
She gave him a semi-flirtatious sideways look. “Not really, unless you wanted
to.”
“Not really, so where to? And—Marilee? Really, cut the act, all right? I don’t
want to hurt your feelings or anything, but really, I know you’re smart, I know
you have opinions and I believe that you know what you want to do. The helpless
female thing gets old fast.”
She looked a little stunned and Dick felt badly for not being ore tactful but,
cripes, he wasn’t into playing games and if this had any chance at all, she
might as well know it now. Then she looked like she was about to cry, even
though her face was turned away from him.
“I, god, I’m sorry, but I like you—I like you when you’re being yourself, all
right?” Dammit, now he’d done it, Alfred would tear a strip off of him for
making a girl cry and he’d be right to do so. He could have found a better way
to say it, or just kept his mouth shut.
She sniffed a little then seemed to straighten her shoulders both mentally and
physically, took a couple of beats and turned to him, nodded, took a deep breath
and another few beats and said, “You’re right—it’s a bad habit and I know I do
that. I think…it’s just so easy and it always worked so I—I know. I won’t do it
again and if I do, tell me, okay?”
“You’re okay? I shouldn’t have…”
“Yes, you should. You’re right.” She reached over and lightly took his hand,
hoping he wouldn’t pull away. He didn’t and gently held her fingers while she
finished composing herself. “Do you still want to go out?” Her voice was
tentative, seeming to assume that he’d say no but he smiled and nodded, relieved
that she wasn’t as angry or hurt as he feared.
“Home first so I can change and then we’ll see, okay? I was thinking maybe we
could stop and get some take out or sandwiches or something. I can’t eat before
a game and I’m starving—do you mind? It’s a nice day, ‘seems stupid to sit
inside somewhere.”
“That sounds good. I didn’t have time to eat either and we can wipe the slate
and relax, if that’s all right with you.”
She smiled a real smile, nodded and genuinely glad that he’d said something
instead of just dumping her, mush as she didn’t want to hear it. She’d been
playing the stereotypical cheerleader for so long; vapid, spoiled, a bit of a
bitch who always, always got her way—and been so good at it—that it was a
surprisingly nice change to drop the act.
Dick chatted in the kitchen while Marilee went up to her room, her mother giving
him a glass of water and making semi-small talk. “So, Dick, Bob and I were
planning on going over to your place next week for that Cancer fundraiser. ‘Any
chance we can look forward to seeing you there?”
“Probably. I know Bruce expects me to be there. He really wants me to get into
the mindset of doing that kind of thing; you know, raising money for good causes
and everything that goes with it.”
She gave him what seemed like a sympathetic smile. “Those things must seem
pretty deadly to you, you poor thing. I know Marilee would rather wash her hair
or cram for a test than get dressed up for a charity auction, even if it is a
good cause.”
“They’re okay, ‘part of the job. Bruce feels really strongly about giving back
to the community. He’s trying to ingrain it in me, make it a habit and, if it’s
done right, it can make a difference.”
“Yes, of course, he’s right. Goodness, the Wayne family has had a hand in
practically every good works project in the area; Gotham is lucky to have him.”
Dick had heard this before and just nodded. Yes, Gotham was lucky; Gotham had no
idea how lucky it was to have Bruce around and everything he brought to the area
both during the day and after dark. Dick had looked up the stats a couple of
years ago: since Batman made his first appearance in the city crime was down
over thirty percent and when Dick—Robin—joined it went down another ten percent.
No argument, Gotham was lucky to have Bruce around.
Half an hour later the two kids were sitting on the bank of the Gotham River in
a quiet corner of the park, the city across the water and their lunch spread out
beside them. “The others were asking about you today.”
Dick swallowed, “The others?”
“The other cheerleaders, a couple of the players. They were wondering who you
are.”
“And who am I?”
“I told them your name and where you live and that we’ve been seeing each other.
I think they’re all jealous.”
“Because we’re seeing each other?”
She smiled at him, not quite laughing, “Because they all think that you’re
gorgeous and want to jump you bones.”
“Sure they do.”
“Seriously.”
“Right, Marilee, seriously.” Alfred and Bruce had tried, with obvious success,
to drill into Dick that while his looks may be considered ‘all right’ he was,
under no circumstances, to think of himself as anything more than that. It was a
concerted effort to downplay his external and focus on his abilities beyond how
he filled out his clothes or photographed. They had possibly done too good a
job. He knew he didn’t look like a peeled onion, but never would think of
himself as anything beyond ‘okay’ as long as he lived.
“Seriously, even my mom was saying how cute you are.”
He took another bit of his sub. “This is an effort to embarrass me, right?”
“You caught me, embarrass you then build you up so you’re so grateful that you
invite me to that big dance thing Bruce is having.”
“The charity dinner next week? ‘You want to go to that? Why?”
She laughed, “Well, yeah, I love getting all dressed up—it’s the whole fairy
princess fantasy.”
“Making me Prince Charming?”
She leaned in and kissed him, a real kiss that lasted a long thirty or so
seconds. “I’m starting to think that you’ve been type-cast in the role.”
He kissed her back for a couple minutes, “If you want to come with me, I think
we can arrange that.”
“Really? You’re not just saying that because I’m getting you hot, are you?”
He smiled against her mouth, their arms around one another. “That’s part of it.”
“And the other part?” They were talking into one another’s mouths.
“I’ll have someone to talk to under forty.”
She laughed happily. In the hour or two since he’d chastised her about
pretending to be a simpering twit she’d dropped the mask, relaxed and was
herself—the first time in her life she hadn’t played a role with a boy and she
liked how liberating it was. If he liked the real her, great and if he didn’t,
well—that was his problem but she’d had an epiphany and she was going to be
herself and let the chips fall where they may. She pulled back an inch or two.
“This is dress up time, right?”
“Dress to the nines and impress the peasants, that seems to be what most of the
women try to do; spend more money on what they’re wearing than they give to the
cause du jour.”
“Oh, you’ve met my mother’s friends, have you?”
He laughed, nodding. “More times than I can count. Your mother said they’re
coming so just drive over with them; Bruce expects me to be there to greet
people, when you get there you can help, help keep me focused instead of glazing
over like I usually do.”
“I’ll keep you focused all right…” She launched herself at him again just as he
leaned towards her—they met in the middle.
* * *
“Bob, did Marilee tell you that the Grayson boy invited her to Bruce’s dinner
next weekend? I’m taking her shopping tomorrow for a new dress.”
“Isn’t she a little young for a formal thing like that? Won’t she be bored—I
wouldn’t want her to make a bad impression.”
“She said he wants her there so he won’t be bored. It sounds like they’ll be
spending the entire evening together, or most of it, anyway. She’ll be able to
meet Bruce as Dick’s date so he’ll pay attention t her, she may even get to sit
at his table!”
Bob regarded his wife. “So, it seems that you have her on track.”
“So far, so good. I’ll have a talk with her, make sure she knows how to behave
and then we just sit back and watch.”
“Honestly, don’t you think she’s a little too young for all of this?’
Marykate gave her husband a patronizing look. “She’s getting her foot in the
door before anyone else has a chance, Bob. You’ve said it yourself; you never
forget your first love, this is perfect.”