Page 63 of Going Down

Page List


Font:  

After a while, Peggy made her way very gingerly back to the table in time to meet the waitress. Peggy broke out the plastic to pay the check, ordered another round, and drank the one she had. Then she leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek.

“What was that for?”

“’Cause I felt like it.” She smiled. “I wanted to see if I’d like it. I was aiming for your lips, but you turned your head too quick.” Once again, the waitress arrived with drinks. “I hope you don’t mind. I took the liberty of ordering you another drink.”

“Why would I mind? You were going to take liberties with my lips, how’s a little drink gonna matter?” I raised my glass. “To Brent.”

“To Brent. May his reign be short and disastrous,” Peggy said.

“Here, here. I second that motion.” I wondered if my soon-to-be partners would consider including the high-powered white girl on the team. It would be a strong move and would improve their access to clientele. The raised glasses came down empty once again. Peggy put her glass down and grabbed the table to steady herself. That last citron shooter took her over the edge.

“I need to get some air, Tavarus,” she said. I stood up, extending my hand to help Peggy get to her feet. I led her outside and walked her to her car. After a while, Peggy caught herself. She took another deep breath. “I’m all right now, Tavarus. Thank you.”

“Are you going to be all right to drive home?”

“I don’t think I should. APD likes hanging around here.”

“I know that’s right. They probably make a fortune on DUI cases around here,” I said, part of me regretting that I’d asked.

“Would you mind driving me to my apartment? It’s not too far from here. I can call a cab and pick up my car in the morning.”

This time it was me who needed the deep breath. She wasn’t that drunk, but she didn’t need to drive. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if something happened to her because I let her drive. “That’s cool, where do you live?” I asked as we started for my car.

I opened the car door for her. “The Estates at Phipps. You know where that is, don’t you?” Peggy replied.

“No.” I laughed and closed the door. I came around to the driver’s side and got in.

“It’s on Phipps Boulevard, next to Phipps Plaza across from the Ritz Carlton.”

“Impressive, most impressive.”

“You think you can find that, or do you need detailed instructions?”

“Are you comparing me to Brent on the sly, Peggy?”

“Now, Tavarus,” she said, putting her hand on my thigh, “you know I have the highest respect for you.”

“There you go again, taking liberties with my body.”

She squeezed it this time. “Solid, too.” She giggled.

Peggy slept through the short drive to her apartment complex. “Peggy—yo, Peg”—I nudged Peggy—“We’re here, where’s your apartment?”

“I thought you didn’t need detailed instructions?”

“Anyway . . .” I smiled. “Which way is it?” Peggy guided me in annoying detail to her apartment. She got out of the car under her own power. “I’m okay; I can walk,” she slurred as she gathered herself together. I was thankful. Carrying a drunk white girl around in Buckhead was the last thing I wanted to do.

Peggy semi-staggered toward her door and fumbled for her keys. Once she unlocked the door, I started to say good night. “Well, Peg, I’ll . . .”

“Come on in. I want to show you something,” she said, grabbing me by the arm.

“Okay, but just for a minute.”

“Have a seat,” she said, stepping out of her heels as soon as she walked through the door. I followed her in, looking around the spacious apartment. “Very nice, Peggy.”

“Thank you.”

“What do you want to show me, Peggy?” I started to sit on the couch, but selected a lone chair instead. Peggy handed me two large books and started walking toward the bedroom. “My high school and college yearbooks.”


Tags: Roy Glenn Crime