Feb 24, 2019

The day after the visit to the Girls’ Home, there was some small change between Godot and Franziska.  Initially she approached him with some trepidation, unsure of precisely what had caused his change in behavior the day prior or if these changes would still be in place.  She found him waiting in his office with a large cup of coffee and his nose buried in a police report.  She decided to start with a basic question so that she could test the waters.

“What does it say?”

He looked up at her, put the report down, and took a large swig from his mug.

“They’ve begun investigating some of the hotels that were involved in the ring. From the twelve hotels they’ve looked at so far, they’ve found three names of interest.  One man is now in police custody, another is being tracked down as we speak, and the third guy they’ve got nothing on but the name.”

“Have they spoken to the man in custody yet?” Franziska asked, pulling up a chair to the opposite side of the desk.  Godot shook his head.

“They said we’d be getting a transcript of the questioning later today, but so far they’ve given us nothing.”

“So what is our next move?” Franziska asked, the question was directed at herself as much as at him.  She wrinkled her brow and leaned on the table with her chin in one hand, thinking deeply about the answer. 

“I say we wait until we find out how the questioning went.  There might be some interesting leads in what he says, or we might have to question him ourselves, either way we can’t do much until the police have finished with him,” Godot shrugged and took a sip.

“How long did they say it would be?” Franziska asked.

“I don’t know.  The detective gave me the report about an hour ago, and said they’d be starting in on the guy almost immediately.  So, I’m figuring they’ll be done with him soon enough,” He took another sip, “You want something to drink?”

“No.  I had some tea before I came to work.”  She was silent for a little too long before adding, “But thank you anyway.”

“Bleah,” said Godot, “Tea.”

“Have you ever tried it?”

“Tea is a woman’s drink,” Godot announced.

“Miles Edgeworth likes it well enough.”

“Oh, like that proves anything.” Caught off guard, Franziska snorted in a rather undignified fashion.  Godot smiled but said nothing.  The two sat in silence for moment, their current conversation at an end, but neither really having anything else to say.

“What were you doing at the office so early?” Franziska asked, in an attempt at light conversation.

“I wasn’t sleeping too well,” Godot answered gruffly, “Figured I might as well accomplish something.”

Silence fell over them again, but before either lawyer could think of something worth saying they were interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Franziska called before Godot could say anything.  It didn’t seem to occur to her, that it wasn’t her place to invite people into someone else’s office.

“Uh, hello Miss von Karma Sir,” Gumshoe said nervously as he edged his way into the office.

“Oh, it’s Scruffy,” Franziska said dismissively, “Did you want something?”

“I have a transcript here, and I was told to bring it to Prosecutor Godot’s office.  So I was doing that…”

“Well, do it then!  Give it to me.”  Gumshoe obediently did as he was told, hurrying to place the file in her hand.  He stood there awkwardly when he was through, worried that whatever he did next would anger her.

Franziska, who had immediately begun reading the transcript, took a moment to notice that he was still present.  “Dismissed!” she told him, snapping her fingers, and Gumshoe scurried out the door.

Godot let out an impressed whistle, “Jesus Christ, you are demanding!  I suppose the little princess got whatever she wanted growing up, eh?”

“Shut up,” she said, “I’m reading.”

“You know, he was told to bring the file to me, not you.”

“I’ve finished the first sheet, you may have it.” She slid a single piece of paper across the desk.

“Thanks, I guess,” he said shrugging and picking up the sheet.  The room was quiet as they read through the questioning.  Franziska finished first, and watched him earnestly as he finished reading.  “Pretty interesting stuff.”

“That restaurant he mentioned, the one where he met with his coworkers, we should investigate it,” Franziska said.

“Won’t do us much good in the day time.  He said it was only open to the public at night,” Godot told her, gesturing to the paper.

“Then we’ll just demand that the owner speak with us.”

“Personally, I think we’ll learn more if we’re not making ourselves known.  Let the police do all the muscling in.  Just having a meal there and listening will probably do much more good.”

“So, we should go tonight then?” Franziska asked.

“We?  No.  I’ll go alone.  It’s too dangerous,” Godot said firmly, putting his mug down and looking at her.

“I find you tiresome,” Franziska told him, “I am sick of telling you that I don’t care what you think.  You cannot control my actions!”
            “I’m not taking you down there to investigate!” Godot said angrily.  Franziska’s lip curled and here eyes flashed, before she suddenly grew reserved again.

“Fine do what you will.  Investigate alone.  I won’t go with you.  It’s fine.”

“Oh, well, good then,” Godot said, taken aback by her sudden submission. “I’ll tell you what I find out tomorrow.”

Franziska nodded and left the room.

OOO

            That night Franziska took a taxi to the restaurant in question.  She preferred not being hindered by Godot’s presence anyway.  She had dressed herself in inconspicuous clothing and asked for a table in the corner from which she could see the whole room without drawing much attention to herself.

            The evening passed in a rather uneventful sort of way.  She saw Godot enter soon after she did, but he took a seat on the other side of room, with his back to most of the tables.  Better for listening, she figured, but not so good for seeing.  Either way he didn’t notice her and the evening went on.  A number of unsavory characters came and went, but none  of them seemed to be in the act of doing anything wrong, and she saw nothing of particular interest.

            She grew bored and began to consider the idea of simply turning the restaurant in for serving her alcohol when a large group of men came in, all together, and sat down at a table near her.

            “I think they might be onto us,” she heard one man say.

            “Who?” said another.

            “The cops,” replied the first man.  They stopped in their conversation when a waiter came up to ask what they wanted to drink.  They did not continue speaking until he was gone.

            “I think they know about me.  I think they’ve been tracking my calls.”

            “You idiot!” another man growled, “get out of here.  You’ll get us all caught.  You’re on your own now if they’ve found you out!”

            “No! No!  See, ‘sokay.  I bought this thing from this pawnshop today.  It messes with frequencies and electronics and stuff.  Should stop them from over hearing my calls.”  The man pulled out a small and sketchy looking metal box and placed it on the table.  “The guy promised me it was good.”

            The man fiddled with his machine, and suddenly there was an earsplitting high-pitched noise.  Every cell phone in the room began to emit a similar sound, and suddenly there was a loud pop from across the room.

            Franziska looked up to see that Godot’s hands had gone to his mask.  It was crackling slightly, and its usual red glow had gone out entirely.  He stood up hurriedly and staggered forward, leaning on the chair in front of him.  It occurred to her, suddenly, that he couldn’t see a thing.  She cast a quick glance at the table of men next to her; they were now making a fuss over the little machine.  She sighed heavily, put her pay on the table and went to Godot.

            “Do you need any help?” She asked as she approached him.  He glanced around wildly, trying to locate her voice.  “I’m here.” She said going forward and touching his arm.

            “Do I know you?” he asked, not quite managing to look directly at her.

            “No,” said Franziska, deciding to avoid unwanted discussion, “But you walked into a chair, so I thought you might need help.”

            “Thanks,” he said smiling.  “I could use some help actually.  You think you could help me call a cab?”

            “Let me get you out of here first,” she took him by the hand, helped him pay, and the led him out of the restaurant.  It was relatively dark out on the street, with only one lamppost there to give any light.  Godot fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone and pressed a few buttons.

            “Shit,” He said, “I think this is fried too.”

            Franziska found her own phone was acting up as well.  “Mine won’t work either.  Hopefully it’s nothing that won’t solve itself with time.”

            There was an old public telephone next to the streetlight, and she began to walk toward it.  Godot’s hand went out the moment he heard her walking away.

            “Where are you going?” he asked with panic.  She was surprised to see this side of him and answered in a bewildered voice.

            “I’m just going to use a public phone over here.  I’ll be back in a moment.”  She left him in his own private darkness to make the phone call.  When she returned she brushed against him slightly, as though it were an accident but with the purpose of letting him know that she was back.  They stood close together in a comfortable silence until the cab arrived.

            Taking him by the hand she helped him into the taxi, and let him give his address as she sat down.

            “Are you coming with me?” he asked with a smirk.

            “I want to make sure you get home alright,” she responded with all seriousness.

            “Oh,” he said quietly, “Thanks.”

            “You’re welcome.”

            She rode with him all the way back to his apartment building.  She followed him out of the cab with the intention of helping back up to his room.

            “I’ll be fine from here.  I know this place well enough,” he said, “Thanks though.  You’ve been a lifesaver.  What’s your name, by the way?”

            “Do you need to know?  Can’t this just be a sort of…” Franziska lacked the natural inclination towards poetry necessary to express her idea, “Mystery thing?”

            “One of life’s little miracles, huh?  I suppose that would work.  Thanks then, Angel.”  He smiled at her, before making his way into his building.  She stared after him for a moment, and then called for her own driver.

oOo

Feb 25, 2019

            Franziska was tired, but determined not to show it, when she arrived for work the next day.  She made her way to Godot’s office, reminding herself to ask him what he had discovered the previous day, even though she knew neither of them had learned anything.

            She found him alone in his office.  She could see by the glow of his mask, that it was once again in working condition.  This did not surprise her, as she had awoken to find her cell phone bore no sign of last night’s failure.

            “How did last night go?” she asked.

            “Waste of an evening.  I didn’t find anything out.”  She waited for him to continue but he said nothing.  Suddenly he took his mask off; his eyes were closed. “Say something again.”

            “Excuse me?” she asked incredulously.

            “More,” he said.

            “Why would you want to hear me speak?”

            He put his mask back on and stared at her for a moment. “It was you!  You were there last night.”  He stood up angrily and advanced towards her.  “I told you it was dangerous and you went anyway.  You went alone!  Do you have any idea what could have happened to you in a place like that.  I’ve never heard of anything so stupid!”

            “I was stupid?” she responded with even more ferocity than Godot possessed himself. “You think I was in danger?  You followed someone you thought you didn’t know out of a restaurant, when you couldn’t even direct yourself up from a table.  You could have been robbed or murdered and you wouldn’t even have had a chance to notice!  I would never have been so stupid!”

            Godot was cowed by anger and logic.  He rather quietly argued, “It turned out alright…”

            “Because it was me.  Because you were lucky!  You’re entirely too proud.”

            Godot sat down at his desk as she glared at him.  He opened his mouth a couple times, always thinking the better of what he was going to say.  Eventually he decided on the right words.  “I’m sorry.”

            This time Franziska was taken aback; she had not expected him to give into her like that.

            Godot kept talking, “You’re right.  I was stupid.  It probably would have been best if we’d acted together in the first place.”

            She sat down opposite him and looked him over for a second, “I suppose I forgive you for this specific case of pig-headedness.”

            He smiled at her wearily, “God, but you’re hard to please.”

            “I consider that to be a positive trait.”

            “Is this a German thing or an only child thing?”

            “It is a von Karma thing,” she answered, “and I’m not an only child.”

            “You said your sister was married before you were born.  I consider that to be pretty much the same thing.”  Silence fell between them as they each took the time to truly regain their composure.  When Franziska’s mood had reached a more companionable level she decided to continue the conversation.

            “I suppose you have siblings then?”

            “I’m the oldest of six,” he told her, before quickly adding, “No Catholic jokes.”

            “Do you really have five siblings?” she asked in disbelief.

            “We’re all within seven years of each other too.  Although there’s a set of twins so it’s not quite as ridiculous as it sounds.”

            “It still sounds pretty ridiculous to me,” Franziska told him.  However, she quickly asked, “What are they like?”

            Godot smiled at her genuinely before answering her question, “Well, for starters I’m the only boy, so they’re all my sisters.  The oldest after me is Maria.  We were born in the same year, but we’re not twins.  I think there’s some name for that, but I forget it.”

            “Irish twins?” Franziska suggested.

            “I said no Catholic jokes!” he teased.

            “I was being serious,” she said.

            “I know.  I actually think you’re right.  Kind of a nasty term isn’t it?”

            “This from a man who calls me a Nazi on a regular basis.”

            Godot laughed out loud.  “You’ve got me there, Kid.  Anyway, Maria’s a very motherly sort.  She always did well at school, but all she ever wanted to be when she grew up was a mom.  She’s married and has a few kids of her own now.

            “The twins are next.  Dolores and Gloria were born two years after Maria.  Gloria’s very smart, she’s a nurse, but she’s taking classes so that she can become a doctor.  Dolores, is kind of the opposite.  She’s very lazy.  She’s married now, and doesn’t work.  But unlike Maria, she doesn’t do much when she stays at home.  After them is Claudia.  She’s always been very sweet; she used to follow Maria around all the time.  She’s a kindergarten teacher now.  She’s married to this big gentle guy.” He paused briefly, “I’m boring you aren’t I?”

            “No,” Franziska said earnestly.  “I’m curious.  What’s the last one like?”

            “The baby of the family is Natalia, but we’ve always called her Nat.  She’s seven years younger than me.  She wants to become a stage actress, but so far she’s never had any really big roles,” he frowned slightly, “She was only in college when I went into my coma.”

            “You’ve seen you’re family since waking, then?” Franziska asked.

            “I went to visit as soon as my trial was over.  My mom’s been calling me again, begging me to visit.” He said with a chuckle.

            “What’s she like?” Franziska asked, with a little more interest than she meant to convey.

            “She’s hard to explain.  She’s bubbly, overbearing, well-meaning, but very often wrong.  She’s got the biggest heart though.  My Dad’s a pretty loving guy too, but other than that they’re complete opposites.  He’s very quiet and serious.  A hard worker whose not very good with emotion.”

            “What are their names?”

            “Emanuel and Theresa.  Why do you care so much?” he asked, smirking.

            “I don’t.  I was just being polite,” Franziska said refusing to look at him.  He watched her carefully as she stared determinedly at the rug.  She suddenly seemed very young and lonely.  He smiled at her gently and made a carefully worded suggestion.

            “You know, Filly.  I really should go visit some day next week.  But it would be a shame to lose the work time.  I don’t suppose you’d come down with me, so we can work on the train?”

            Franziska blinked at him in surprise, before giving him a very small smile.  “I think I could do that.”

oOo

Feb 28, 2019

            Godot hadn’t actually expected to do any real work on the train.  He had thought that his request to work en route, had been a very obvious and thinly veiled excuse to let her visit an actual family.  If Franziska knew that it was all a pathetic cover, she did not let on.  Instead she met him at the train station with a large number of case reports and papers to read and discuss on the trip.

            “What did you do, wake up early and raid the police station?” he asked as they sat down beside each other on the train.

            “I had Scruffy deliver them to me this morning.”

            “So he had to wake up early and raid the police station?”

            “I suppose.” She shrugged, clearly uninterested in Gumshoe’s general welfare.

            “You are such a bitch,” he told her fondly.

            “You are a fool and a bastard so I consider us even,” she said as she rifled through her papers.  “There are a few new things today.  Here; read this.”  She shoved a pile of papers at him.

            “I can’t.  Reading while moving makes me sick,” he told her this as though there was nothing that could be done about it.  Franziska glared at him and he grinned.  Smugly he took out his travel mug and took a sip, “I’m so sorry, Filly.”

            “Fine then,” Franziska said, “I shall read to you.”

            Godot sighed heavily and settled in to listen to the report.  Instead, he found himself watching her closely.  She looked so very serious, sitting there bent over the paper.  She frowned slightly as she was reading, and almost seemed to forget where she was as she became more absorbed in the information.  Her hair slipped out from behind her ear and fell into her line of vision, but she made no movement to do anything about it.

            Not entirely thinking, he reached out and tucked the lock of hair behind her ear again.  Abruptly she looked up and stared at him.

            “Sorry, Kid.  It looked like it was bothering you,” he said.  She raised an eyebrow but went back to reading.  He interrupted her, “What color is your hair exactly?”

            “That’s a strange question.  I thought that mask let you see.”

            “Well it does, but all the colors are wrong.  Everything’s off.  It’s like…” he frowned as he tried to think of the best way to explain it.  “Did you ever wear those 3-D glasses when you were a kid.  You could close one eye and everything would be shaded over in blue, and if you closed the other everything would become red.  This stupid mask makes everything look like I’m wandering around with the blue eye closed.”

            “I’ve never worn 3-D glasses,” she told him, “But I think I understand what you’re talking about.”

            “You’ve never worn 3-D glasses?” he repeated in disbelief.  “That’s so sad.  What a sheltered life you’ve led.”

            “We should get back to work,” she told him.

            “Yeah, you’re right.  I need to stop being so lazy.  Read on, Filly.”

            Franziska began and immediately stopped.  “It’s a light grayish-blue,” she said, and continued reading.

oOo

            “Oh Diego!  It’s my boy!  My boy!  My only son.  Back to visit his mother!  Come here Diego.  Give your mother a hug!” Mrs. Armando appeared at the door of her house with a dish towel over one arm and her hair pulled back in a hopelessly messy bun.  At the sight of her son she practically lit up, and began to wave him over to her excitedly.  He went to her with a resigned look on his face.

            She was a round woman, short and fat, but with an undeniably pleasant face.  She was in her late fifties, and her hair had all but gone gray leaving only a few streaks of very dark hair.  She was wearing a faded old dress, and was currently forcing her son to duck down so that she could kiss him on the cheek.

            When Theresa Armando noticed that there was a young woman standing awkwardly in the tiny yard, she smiled at her, and looked up at her son.

            “You didn’t say anything about bringing someone.  Who is this girl?”

            “From work,” Godot said shortly, “I’m going to make some coffee.”

            “Oh no you don’t!  You are going to introduce me to this fine young lady right this moment.  Go on now, talk.”

            “Mother, this is Franziska von Karma.  She is a Prosecutor in Los Angeles.  We’re working on our case together.  I brought her with me so that we could get work done on the train,” he said tiredly.

            “So you’re not dating her?”  Theresa asked carefully.

            “No Mom.  I am not dating her.”

            “That’s good.  You’re much too old for her.” Mrs. Armando turned her eyes on the girl, “Welcome Dear!  Welcome.  Come in!  Come in!  I’ll get you something to eat.  Ai, dios mio!  It’s nearly lunch time and I haven’t got anything ready.”

            She put one chubby arm around the girl as though they had known one another for many years, and began to lead her into the house.

            Franziska von Karma was stunned.  Never in her life had she been treated in this way.  People did not call her ‘Dear’ and put their arms around her.  They were too afraid of her, or too in awe of her prowess.  But here she was being pushed into a house by a woman she had met only moments ago.  She was ushered into a chair, had a cold drink thrust into her hands, and then was asked what sort of deli meat she liked.  Franziska von Karma did not eat deli meats.

            Yet she could not find the words with which to share this information.  She was too busy trying to reorganize her thoughts and figure out the best way to act in this situation.  It didn’t seem to matter much to Theresa Armando whether or not Franziska said anything.  She immediately set about preparing for lunch despite the silence.

            “So Filly, how do you like my Mom?” Godot whispered sitting down across from her at the small kitchen table.  He was smirking, and it was very clear that he found Franziska’s discomfort highly amusing.  Theresa appeared behind him, and smacked him across the head. “Ow!”

            “Don’t you go whispering like that behind my back.  I thought I taught you not to behave like that.  Now stop dragging the poor young lady into your mischief.” Theresa placed a large platter of sandwiches on the table, and sat down to join them, “Now Dear, tell me about yourself.”

            “Well, Go- or well, Diego already told you the basics…” she said awkwardly, speaking for the first time since their arrival.

            “Nonsense.  Nonsense!  All he spoke about was work.  What is work?  Nothing.  You tell me the important things.”

            Franziska stared at her blankly.  She had been under the impression that work was the important thing.  It was at this point that Godot decided to take pity on her, and help her along.

            “Franziska’s from Germany,” he said.

            “No me digas!  From all the way over there?  You know I came from Mexico when I was about your age.  Not that far at all, and I was so homesick!  But look at you half way across the world and perfectly fine.  Your family must be with you.”

            “My brother is here.  Although he came here many years before I did,” Franziska told her, glad the conversation had taken a turn that she could understand.

            “Just your brother?  You must miss your father and mother terribly.”

            “Not really,” Franziska said honestly.  Across the table she could see that Godot was displeased with the conversation path.  She wasn’t entirely sure what the problem was.

            “Not at all?” Theresa asked.

            “Well, they’re both dead so I couldn’t see them in Germany anyway.”  At this pronouncement Theresa threw up her hands and Godot sighed heavily.

            “Dead!  Oh you poor baby.  Poor innocent child!  How lonely you must be!”  It was only a moment before Franziska found the life being squeezed out of her by the zealously empathetic matriarch of the Armando family.  “You can come here anytime, Dear, anytime.”

            “I’m really quite fine,” Franziska assured her weakly.  She was desperately uncomfortable being held.

            Theresa Armando retreated to her seat.  “How old are you, Dear?”

            “Nearly twenty,” Franziska answered.

            “So young!  So young and all alone!  How do you take care of yourself?”

            “She’s a lawyer, Mom,” Godot interrupted. “She doesn’t act her age at all.  She’s very self sufficient.”

            Franziska flushed just slightly and looked at him in surprise; she had thought he looked down on her because of her age.

            “If you say so,” Theresa said quietly. “But if you ever need a family, Dear, there’s one for you here.”

            The conversation grew more comfortable then and turned away from Franziska in general.  Theresa spent a lot of time trying to get information out of her son and they then fell into talking about the different members of the family. 

The afternoon was beginning to draw to a close, and Godot had made a number of failed attempts to end the conversation with his mother, when they were interrupted by the slamming of the front door.

“Yo, Grandma!  You got any flour?  Ma’s run out,” a boy’s voice called from entryway.  The mysterious trespasser soon tramped into the kitchen.  He was a young teenager, caught in the especially awkward early years of adolescence.  His hair was thick, messy and brown, and hung in thick curls around his face.  He was dressed in oversized, brand name clothing, and he looked as though he might turn out handsome, although he certainly wasn’t now.

He blushed when he saw Franziska.  He then nodded in her direction and said, in a surly fashion, “’Sup.”

“Stay right there José, you’re tracking mud all over the house,” his grandmother scolded.  The boy remained where he was in the doorway.

“Hey Joey, How’s it going?” Godot asked, he didn’t sound especially interested.

“It’s Joe, now,” the boy said.

“But Grandma can still call you José?”

“Yeah, well.  It’s Grandma, you know?”

“José is what his mother named him.  I’m only calling him by his name.  I don’t see the problem.”  Theresa came over with a bag of flour and handed it to the boy.  “Now out with you, and stop staring at your Uncle’s friend.”

“Bye!” José called desperately over his shoulder as he was shoved out the door by his grandmother.  She returned, shaking her head.

“That boy.  Always with the ladies.  He reminds me a lot of you when you were his age,” she said gesturing to Godot.  “Do you know he’s had five different girlfriends already, and it’s only been two years since he stopped finding girls disgusting.  It’s never nice Latina girls either, just like you isn’t he?”

“Mom, I dated tons of every type of girl, you’ve just apparently erased the ones you approved of from your memory.  And besides,” he added, “Your being offensive.”

“You never dated any of them seriously,” she said.

“Then why are you worried about Joey.  He’s thirteen; he’s not dating anyone seriously,” Godot said testily.

“I suppose,” she answered.  A deeply uncomfortable silence hung over the room as Godot fumed at the table and his mother made herself busy around the kitchen.  She came back to the table in the middle of lighting a scented candle and said quietly to your son.

“Whatever happened to the Asian one?”  Godot had stood up and turned on his mother in a single motion.

“Don’t you ever speak about her like that!” He shouted at her.  Frightened, his mother stumbled backwards; the lit candle fell from her hands and, in a moment, the curtain behind her was alight.  Godot and his mother stood in shock, staring at the flame.

Thinking quickly, Franziska grabbed her drink and tossed it at the burning cloth.  The fire died down for a second, but began to rise up again.  She then tore the curtain down from its rod, flung it into the sink, and turned on the faucet.  A dark and foul smoke rose up from the sink causing everyone in the room to start coughing.

Godot grabbed both women by the wrists and pulled them out of the kitchen and into the yard.  It was a minute or so before anyone said anything.

“I’m sorry, Mom.  Are you alright,” Godot asked, gently taking her by the arms and looking her over. 

“I’m fine, Diego, really.  It was just a bit of a scare,” she told him.  Turning to Franziska she said, “That was very quick thinking, Dear.  We would have just kept staring at the flame like deer in the headlights until the whole house burnt down.”

“I just did what needed doing,” Franziska informed her matter-of-factly.  Theresa smiled at her.

“I didn’t mean to offend you, Deigo.  I didn’t mean to say anything wrong.  I was only curious to know if you were still seeing anyone,” she said gently.

“It’s fine, Mom.  I know you’d never purposely say anything offensive,” Godot said quietly.

“So you’re no seeing anyone then?” she asked urgently.

“Mom!” Godot said in exasperation.

“Calm down, Diego. I’m asking for a reason,” she said patting him on the arm. “Just last week I was invited to visit the Ortiz family.  You remember them, don’t you?  They used to live across the street before they moved to New Mexico.  They had a daughter about your age.”

“Mom,” Godot muttered in annoyance, “This is about the girl isn’t it.”

“Of course it’s about the girl.  Her name is Blanca, she was in Maria’s grade at school.  She was always a sweet girl, and I was very good friends with her mother; we’ve kept in touch this entire time.  I just think it would do you some good to get out of the office and meet some people.  You’ve done nothing but work since you got better.  You need to live a little.”

“That’s not true.  I spent some of my time since getting better in a holding cell.”

“Don’t speak of it!  You’ll put me in an early grave.  Just, please Diego, we’re visiting this weekend.  If you can get the time off work, join us.”  She took her son’s hands and looked up at him pleadingly.  He sighed and looked away, deep in thought.

“I think you should go, Diego,” Franziska suggested wickedly, deciding that it was boring to remain on the sidelines.  She attempted to smile at him sweetly, but the look came out somewhat sinister instead.  Godot’s mouth tightened into a frown, and she could only assume that behind his mask he was glaring at her.

“See?  Your little friend agrees with me,” Theresa went and stood by Franziska, so that the two women could have a united front.  “We just want what’s best for you.”

“It doesn’t bother me if I have to do a little extra work, Diego.”

Exhaling heavily, Godot threw his hands up in surrender.  “Fine!  Fine, whatever.  I’ll do it.  I’ll go visit them with you this weekend.  Is everyone happy now?”

The women nodded, one more earnestly than the other.

“So I’ll see you this weekend, Diego?” Theresa went over to and hugged her son, “I’m so glad.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you Mom,” Godot told her.  She kissed him and went back into the house to open all the windows, leaving the two lawyers to make their way back to the train station.  Godot turned from his parents’ house and looked at Franziska.

“God I hate you.”

She smiled.