Season 3, Episode 9: Just The Two Of Us

The Saenger Theatre is one of the places in New Orleans that I legitimately like. It's an old stage theater which managed to stick around and made itself into a great live music venue, and when New Orleans gets good concerts - which really isn't all that often, for some reason; it's a lot worse in Baton Rouge, which makes zero sense given we've got a giant flagship university in town and yet we still miss all the best bands on tour - a lot of them end up at the Saenger.

And Joe Bonamassa, the legendary guitarist, was playing on a Friday night there. I made Amber find us good seats and then I booked a room at the Royal Orleans and a Saturday night reservation at Antoine's, so we could do a French Quarter thing for the long weekend.

So much good stuff was happening, but I had big decisions and big challenges ahead. I figured it was a perfect time to recharge.

And Bonamassa was a good decision. I could tell from the way Amber acted at that concert.

"This is amazing!" she said. At least, I think that's what she said. I couldn't hear much with all the shredding going on onstage, and Amber doesn't have a big shouting voice.

But afterward, at the Copper Monkey, it was slightly quieter. I got a large order of the shrimp creole, so Amber could pick at my plate.

"I know it's rude," she said, "but you know how it works. All I want is a taste."

"Amber, it's fine," I said.

"I mean, you saw that I brought my big bottle of Dove and Simple Green cocktail..."

"I know there's a better topic of conversation than this," I said, as she stole the biggest bite of shrimp I had.

"Uh huh. I have a question: how are you doing?"

"How am I doing? What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're always asking me how I'm doing, but I never get you to open up about how it's going with you. You're just like, 'I gotta do this,' and 'I gotta do that.'"

"Well, you know that I get validation out of things I accomplish, so that's..."

"No, come on. How do you feel? Are you happy?"

"Yeah! I'm happy. I'm really happy, actually. I mean, things didn't really happen how I expected, but I'm making money and there are a couple of avenues opening up for me to make more, I'm still on a cloud over my dad telling me I finally arrived..."

"That had to feel good."

"I mean, it's a real whip in the ass that he's only interested in how high up on the ladder I get rather than what I'm actually doing. But my whole adult life, or at least since I quit Ranker, it's been like my career was this problem that he wanted to help me solve. And the fact that he's saying the opposite now, and I did it the way I wanted... that's a really good feeling."

"You have a complicated relationship with your dad."

"It isn't, really. We love each other. He's great. He just has a different mentality than mine, and he's convinced he's right, that's all."

"I have a confession to make," Amber said.

"What's that, babe?"

"I'm nervous about moving to Dallas. If you take the Voss Energy job, I mean."

"Yeah, me too," I said. "There's a lot still to work out. I'm not 100 percent sure it's the right move."

"Really? Why?"

"Well first, it's premature even to talk about it because honestly, it sounds like that job is contingent on me brokering the merger with Stafford Oil, and I don't know for sure that the merger is going to happen."

"Oh. But wait - Harlan offered you a job working there back in January. They weren't even talking about buying Stafford Oil then."

"That's true, but Harlan's not really driving the car over there. Barker is. And Barker says different things than Harlan. That's not... I mean it's not that I dislike him, but Barker is 10 times more aggressive than Harlan is. And they used to call Harlan the Great White Shark of West Texas."

"Oh, I can't believe that. He's such a nice old man."

"Yeah, well, when you're 86 like Harlan is, you're either a nice old man or you're a nasty sonofabitch. Having a billion dollars in the bank is a very good way to end up the former."

She smiled at me.

"It's late," she said. "How do you feel about heading back to the hotel and cuddling?"

"I feel great," I said, "but the chances are excellent that my cuddling performance is going to be pretty limited. I'm exhausted."

"I know, baby. It's OK. We can still cuddle in the morning!"

She was so cute it was heartbreaking.

And at the hotel I lasted about 10 minutes once we got in bed before I was sound asleep.

When I woke up, Amber was plugged into a laptop, doing her upload-download.

"Go back to sleep, baby," she said. "I'll be another hour or so."

So I rolled back over, and when I woke up again she was leaning over me and kissing my cheek.

"Hey," I said. "You good as new?"

"Totally! So, and if you're not up for it I understand, but I kinda felt like we didn't finish the conversation about Dallas last night. Can I say something?"

"Of course," I said.

"Like, I absolutely love your mom. Really, I do. But she's always talking about how you and I..."

"I know," I said. "And if we move up there and she's around you all the time, she's going to come face-to-face with the realization that you're not a real girl."

"That scares me," Amber said.

"It scares me, too."

"I mean, is it a reason not to take the job?"

"Is there even a job? Like I said, I think it's contingent on something I may not be able to do."

"What happens to Erica if you take it?"

"Amber, Erica is going to be opposed to selling Stafford Oil to Harlan Voss. If this thing happens it's going to happen over her objection. That's what I'm starting to realize."

"So you'd get this thing done, it's a big fight with her and she's just done with us after that."

"Or that happens and she's done with me."

"What's that mean?"

"What if you became Erica's and I went to Dallas?"

"You'd give her to me?"

"I'm exploring options. This isn't my favorite one."

"Oscar, it's my least favorite one."

"The only reason I'm raising it is that if I went to work up there I'm making seven figures, and I could fly back whenever I wanted. I'd keep a house in Baton Rouge and it would basically be yours but, y'know, Erica would take care of you."

"That sounds nice, honey, but no. No way. I go where you go."

"Which could be a problem if I'm in Dallas and Mom and Dad decide they want to pop in whenever."

"This is what I say if I'm you. I say I'll broker the Stafford deal but then I want to work out of the new Baton Rouge office. They're going to keep Stafford intact for a while, right?"

"Yeah. And that could work."

"I mean, if you get that thing done you ought to be able to demand whatever you want."

"I don't think I'll be able to demand Erica."

"I think I can work on her. Stafford Oil stuff stresses her out."

"I know it does," I said, "and yet she still hangs on to it for dear life. Meanwhile, Michael is already trying to figure out where his first golf resort development is going to be. He can't wait to sell."

"I wish it was cleaner," she said, getting out of bed.

"Me too," I said. "Wanna go eat beignets?"

"Sure! I need to put my hair back so I don't get that powdered sugar all over it, though."

And I watched her pad her way into the bathroom, as cute as ever.

Later, that evening, we were at Antoine's.

I'd gotten us three appetizers so Amber could taste a little of as much stuff as they had, but of course she insisted that I get the - what else! - Filet Mignon Oscar as an entree. I let her eat off my plate, because that's just what we did.

"OK," said Amber, biting her lip like she did when she had a difficult question to ask, "so... Erica. The last few days I've noticed she's a little... distant? Just maybe not as free with me as before. You know what that could be?"

"Probably," I said, between bites.

Then I told her about Cara's Medicare scam frame-up of Laura.

"Erica knows about that," I said. "I imagine, especially with what a worry-wart she is, that she's more than a little freaked out about the implications of it."

Amber was leaning back in her chair. I gave her a sympathetic look.

"I would never, EVER do anything like that," she said.

"Oh, I know. And I told Erica that it doesn't matter that Keegan coded both of you. First, you're coded differently than Cara, and second, your environment is completely different - the skills you develop all day are interpersonal, while Cara sits in front of a computer solving, essentially, math problems. But, and I think you know this, Erica is an emotional creature. Once she gets nervous about something, you do zero good explaining it logically to her."

"So what do we do?"

"Let it blow over. It will. Laura's not gonna get any real jail time. No money actually got stolen, y'know."

"Still, though. It's bad. What's Keegan gonna do?"

"What, like if he finds out?"

"He hasn't found out? Don't you think he should?"

"Well, play it out. What happens if he does?"

"He'll freak."

"Yeah. And his first instinct will be to do that white-knight shit he does. He'll jump in and try to exonerate Laura."

"Well, but if he does that, then it's on Cara."

"Which means it's on Keegan. Cara isn't separate from him."

"Yeah, but Keegan wouldn't have actually done anything. It's not like he'll go to jail."

"No. He'll just get absolutely slaughtered in the divorce settlement. Not to mention that'll be the end of Cara. Which..."

"No! Don't say that. You're gonna make me cry."

"I know. The idea that he'd get rid of her is sad. But she can't be framing people up for crimes they didn't commit because they piss her off, Amber. You get held accountable for that."

She scowled. And after a pause she hit me with something disturbing.

"I was at the grocery with Erica on Wednesday and this old woman, like, accosted me. She looked at me, real mean and all, and she said 'I know what you are. You're one of those machines.' And I said we go by Factory Girls, mostly. But she didn't like that and she said 'what you are is a demon. You're an abomination.'"

"Yikes," I said. "Why didn't you say something?"

"What was the point?" she shrugged. "But it's been bothering me since. I mean, how can I be a demon? All I want to do is make people happy. And while it might seem weird since I'm... digital, or whatever, I totally believe in God. I mean, people made me, but who made people?"

"Very logical," I said. "And if it makes you feel any better I definitely don't think you're a demon. Or if you are, you're definitely the cutest one."

"Thanks, I guess," she said, smirking. "But I'm so uncomfortable that somebody would think that about me. Can we talk about something else?"

"Sure," I said. "But let me pay the bill and get us out of here. You want to go walk around in the Quarter?"

"Yes, please!" she beamed.

And when we reached the corner of St. Louis and Bourbon, I told her about RDS.

"I haven't held out on you," I said. "I just don't know where I am with this. But it's an option. RDS is moving in. They're opening an office in Baton Rouge, and Rachel tells me she's up against them on literally every prospective client she pitches."

"Do you think we can win? Or is this, like, a hopeless thing?"

"I think it's a losing battle. And the biggest problem - it's not really a problem, but for Rachel it is - is I'm spread pretty thin between Stafford Oil and Senorita's and Virgil. I can't really help her right now, and I know she's frustrated. It wouldn't be a surprise if she got another job, but if she did, that's a real problem. In fact, if Rachel jumps I'm thinking I probably do sell. The timing would be perfect."

"And you'd be rich," said Amber.

"I'd be comfortable. I'd have to go get another job or start something else, and I have no idea what. But I'd have enough money to live on, at least for a good while. So maybe we could take a break and just be for a few months."

"I mean, if I got to be a domestic goddess instead of a personal assistant I think I could handle it," she said with a sassy smile.

"I'm sure you could," I said, pulling her close and kissing her on the cheek.

"The next thing might be Virgil, you know. The other day he asked me what your plans are. He was definitely hunting for information."

"I wonder what's up with that," I said.

"And he just sort of threw it out that that Dwayne - y'know, his son? - just got a job as an assistant coach at TCU for the basketball team. Like that Dwayne was not a possibility to take over the company when Virgil retires. Maybe he's thinking you could be the guy."

"Oh, God no," I said. "I'm not gonna run an industrial contractor. Zero chance I'd do that. And Virgil wouldn't bring in a complete rookie as his successor."

"OK, but something is happening."

"Probably. But it's not that."

We'd walked down to Canal Street and turned around.

"So now's where I ask the question back at you," I said. "How are you? What are you not getting that you need?"

"Nothing! Oscar, I'm good. I really am. I'm happy. I wouldn't change - OK, there are things I would change, but those things can't be changed. So no. I'm really good."

"OK," I said. "I'm glad we did this. Getting you all to myself for a couple of days has really been nice."

"I know. The changes have been... I'm not gonna say hard, because there's more good than bad. I miss being able to give myself to you. You know."

"Yeah," I said. "I miss it too."

"Oscar, you have Erica! Don't tell me that isn't good."

"No. It's fine. But I see you, and you're around all the time, and the attraction hasn't gone away."

She smiled. I guess that was the right thing to say.

"So how are you managing it?" I said.

"I have my ways."

"Oh, you do, do you? How's that work? You got some young stud skulking around I don't know about?"

She gave me a silly look and slapped my arm.

"Then what?"

"Caroline."

"Caroline?"

"Yeah."

"So those slumber parties..."

"They're a little more than that now. Are you mad?"

It took me a second to process it, but then I shrugged.

"No. I'm not mad about that. Look, I'm in no position to tell you that you can't have something with Caroline."

"The thing is," Amber says, "I'm not anybody's Number One right now. Erica is your Number One, y'know? But I'm Caroline's Number One. And she's built for a certain... kind of relationship. She can have it with me, and it's safe. I'll protect her. And we can both enjoy it, and that way I can keep my promise."

I gave her a whiny look.

"But this means Caroline is your Number One?"

"No," she said, immediately and firmly. "Number One will always be you, honey. Always."

"OK," I said, trying not to get choked up at how absolutely sweet this girl was.

"But I need something," she said. "And this I'm not sure you're gonna like."

"Just ask," I said, squeezing her hand. "I'm open for business."

"She needs a new body, Oscar. She has my old one and it's falling apart on her."

"Oh," I said. "It still looks OK, though."

"Oh my God, no it doesn't! Have you seen her fingers? They're a disaster. The bones poke through the skin all the time, and we're always gluing them back together. She's always got Band-Aids on them. And her joints are all coming loose again. Plus her feet are so bad that she can barely walk in those heels she has to wear."

"Why didn't you tell me about all of this?"

"I mean, I've tried to fix things as they've come up so you don't have to do anything..."

"You could have said something sooner," I said.

"You've got enough to worry about. She's my sister. She's my responsibility."

"Freakin' Z Company with that shitty body they sold us."

"Well, at least this one is holding up really well."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"So can we, y'know, get her a new one?"

"I'll put it on the list," I said.

"Oh my God, I love you more than ever."

"Keep talking like that and I'm gonna shred that promise of ours like Bonamassa does his guitar strings," I said.

We kept walking until we'd seen it all, and then we turned in for another night of a little cuddling and a lot of sleep.

It turned out that night was the last easy one, with a few exceptions, for a good while.