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| Woman In Light And Shadow (Photo credit: James Rivera Photography) |
Chapter Five
Home for Maggie Mulhearn was a townhouse near the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Most days, even in winter, she walked from there to her office, a space she rented in a suite that featured a shared secretary, phone and internet services, conference room and office equipment. Today, tired as she had been when the alarm went off just five hours after she and John had finally called it a night and dozed off to sleep, she had taken a quick shower, then driven from his row home in Philly’s Pennsport neighborhood.
When she arrived at her own place, Mulhearn parked in one of the "residents only" spaces on her street, just a short half block away. She walked to the front door in a bit a trance, brought on too much sex and too little sleep. She unlocked the door and walked into the foyer. Since the front of the brick townhouse faced east, in late afternoon the foyer and front hall were well lit. She opened the door from foyer to hall and started to scream when a very large, soft black hand covered her mouth. The scream was more of a muffled moan as Mulhearn's heart raced. "Hey, easy does it, Maggie." The familiar voice of Eddy Ireland had an immediate calming effect on Mulhearn, who was not easily rattled as rule.
The instant he removed his hand she blurted, "Jesus Christ, Eddie. Is this your idea of a joke? Or have you turned cat burglar, starting with your
friends?"
Ireland gently guided Duffy through the hallway into her own, dimly©lit living room. She left her overnight bag on the marble floor in the entryway, where she had dropped it when Ireland startled her. Both of her large white hands were free and she used them to brush her long red hair away from her face. As her eyes adjusted to the glare of reflected sunlight from the hall mirror, Ireland closed the
miniblinds on the windows facing the street. Maggie suddenly realized that an equally dark young woman was curled in her favorite chair, her bare brown legs tucked beneath her buttocks, which were covered by a pair of filthy looking denim shorts. The girl --- she hardly seemed a woman --- stared at Maggie as she stood in the doorway, the girl/woman’s hollow eyes a deep liquid brown.
Maggie stood transfixed by the stare for a long five or six seconds, then turned to
Ireland, whose hand remained on the small of her back.
"What the hell is going on, Eddie?" she asked, her voice exhibiting equal portions of
anger and curiosity. "Who's this... a new girlfriend?" The second question was a little cruel. Maggie knew Eddie better than to think he would rob the cradle. She also know he would never break and enter --- not even a friend's house --- to
spend time there with some bimbo.
"Maggie Mulhearn," Ireland replied in a soft, even voice, as if this was the most ordinary of get-togethers, "meet Dalinda Garcia. Dalinda, darlin', this is the writer lady I told you about... the one who's going to help you." Garcia didn't move, except for her liquid eyes, which took the measure of Maggie, who placed her arms akimbo and turned to face Ireland squarely.
"You're telling me you broke into my house with a new client. Is that it, Ireland?"
"Well, sort of," Eddie replied cautiously. "Look, Mag, why don't we sit down and I'll lay it all out for you?" he suggested hopefully. Mulhearn dropped her arms to her sides and and shrugged her shoulders.
"Anything you say, Eddie. Just don't tell me you and..."
"Dalinda," he chimed in helpfully.
"...you and Dalinda plan to move in and I should get a room at the Four Seasons.
Okay?" she said sarcastically.
Eddie laughed nervously as he sat on the couch. Maggie moved across the room and sat in the chair nearest the fireplace. Unconsciously mimicking Garcia, she tucked her legs up under her skirt, slipped her purse off her shoulders, took out a cigarette and lit it. "Can you spare one?" asked Eddie tentatively.
"Oh, sure," replied Duffy, tossing the pack into Eddy's lap. "Want a beer, too? Or
have you already helped yourself."
"Come on, Mag. Ease up, can't you? I couldn't think where else to go. Now, how
about you close your smart Irish mouth and let an old friend defend himself. What say?" Mulhearn took a long drag on her cigarette, studying Garcia as she slowly exhaled the smoke toward the ceiling. "Go for it, Eddie," she said, keeping her voice low and even, trying not too betray how intrigued she was by the silent young woman and the circumstances in which she had discovered her.
"Okay, yeh... well, uh, thanks." Ireland lit a cigarette from Duffy's pack, using his own Zippo lighter. He took a long drag but exhaled quickly, not savoring the first puff, as Maggie had done. He wanted to launch his explanation before her Irish got itself up again.
Read all five chapters here:
http://www.booksie.com/literary_fiction/novel/jim_castagnera/maggie-in-the-underworld/chapter/1
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