Cooked Goose

tips of his boots together.
    “Now, even if your wife told you that all the other wives do it when their husbands go through one of those weird ‘pecker-shrinking’ periods, I still don’t think you’d be too happy about it. Right?”
    Another grunt.
    “You’d probably tell her to get those damned mags out of your house, to wait and be patient until things were back to normal and you could take care of business again.”
    He choked and cleared his throat. “So, you think what I did was wrong, too?”
    Savannah flashed back on the materials that Tammy had removed from the guest room. “Well... I’m not going to say what you do in your own bedroom... or bathroom, is right or wrong. That’s between you and your own conscience. But the Golden Rule says, ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.’ And I think it’s a darned good rule... no matter what all the rest of the guys might be doing.”
    He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and sniffed again.
    “Also,” she said, “I think it’s really important, once you’ve made a promise to your mate, to keep it. But, like I said, it’s free advice. You can take it or leave it.”
    She stood, leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. “And I meant what I said; you are a great guy. Vi’s a lot luckier than she thinks she is.”
    “Thanks, Van.” He gave her a weak smile and crushed his beer can in his hand. “I’ll go talk to Vi. I want this to be a good Christmas for us all.”
    “It will be.” She slapped him on the back. “Hell, just one big happy family, right?”
    When Savannah walked back into the house, she found Margie and the twins still absorbed with their dough... the part that wasn’t on her floor or chair seats. They were using her cookie cutters to make bells and stars. For once, Jack’s creations were not genitally enhanced.
    “We’re gonna bake ‘em in the oven,” Jillian announced proudly.
    “And hang them on the Christmas tree,” her brother added.
    Savannah gave Margie an affectionate smile. “Good going, Ms. Bloss.”
    “No problem, Ms. Reid.”
    In the living room, Savannah found Dirk sitting on her sofa, feet propped on the coffee table. Gee, she thought, it must be about dinnertime.
    He was wearing a bedraggled expression, the one he wore most often these days. But she couldn’t really blame him.
    “I’ve seen cheerier faces on death row inmates,” she told him as she sat beside him on the sofa and slipped a newspaper under his feet. “Need a beer?”
    “No, I need an IV drip of morphine, but I’m still working.
    I just got back from that bookie’s place, you know, Maldonado.”
    “Let me guess: Judging from the sourpuss you’re wearing, it was a bust... and I don’t mean the kind where you slap cuffs on him.”
    “You got that right. He’s out of town, has been for over a month. Visiting some relatives in Atlantic City . And yes, it checks out. Completely. He’s been very visible in the casinos there. About a zillion people saw him.”
    “Poop.”
    “My sentiments exactly. What’s going on up there?” He pointed to the staircase. “I saw your brother-in-law going up, looking like a hanged dog.”
    “I laid a guilt trip on him. Hopefully, it’ll lead to domestic tranquility.”
    “What had he done wrong?”
    “He was born male.”
    “The bastard.”
    “Precisely.”
    The doorbell rang, and Savannah hauled herself to her feet. This was getting to be a bit much. “Grand Central Station,” she muttered as she made her way to the door. “I’m beginning to long for the old days when I was suicidally lonely.” But it was a pleasant surprise—Ryan Stone in all his male glory, decorating her front porch. He was wearing a charcoal suit that was damned lucky to be draped across such a body. Savannah wished she were wearing something other than a faded T-shirt and jeans.
    “Sorry I didn’t call first,” he said. “But I’ve got something interesting, and I couldn’t wait.”
    “Come right in. Heaven knows, we could use something interesting.”
    “I saw Coulter’s car out front,” Ryan said as he walked inside. “This is for him, too.”
    “What’s for me?” Dirk said, sitting up straight and taking his feet off the table.
    Ryan glanced around. Seeing that the younger set was absorbed in their craft, he unbuttoned his jacket and sat in one of Savannah’s easy chairs.
    “As you know,” he said, “I’ve still got friends in the bureau. And since I’ve left,