It was trivial and stupid and it made Foggy mad. Matt was gone, and the world’s only response was a slight rise in petty crime.
Foggy went to work every day. He handled the cases Hogarth gave him, and he was damn good at it. His billable hours looked great to the firm, his win rate was high, he was in line for a hefty end-of-year bonus and an excellent review. Hogarth smiled at him, her cold little smile, when they passed in the hall or on the elevator. Hogarth didn’t give those smiles out lightly. Foggy had the rare combination that made for a very lucrative career in defense— an excellent memory for precedent, a mind that saw easily around corners, and a genuine desire to defend both the innocent and the stupid.
He couldn’t defend Matt though, not against the accusations of his own mind. And so, he fretted.
He found himself wandering to places he and Matt had gone together. The Thai place near their old office. The ice cream parlor Matt loved to be taken to for his birthday. The pizza joint that delivered the super supreme on movie nights. The coffee shop where they bought a reprieve from Karen’s bitter brew.
Foggy ordered the noodles Matt loved, the thick ones in peppery sauce with plenty of seafood. He’d never questioned a blind man’s skill with chop sticks. Foggy had never questioned anything about Matt. Matt was his own personal miracle. Only, he’d never bothered to share the whole story with Foggy. Foggy washed the noodles down with Thai tea, thick with sweet condensed milk, and finished it off with mango sticky rice, a treat that had sent Matt swooning every time the mangos were perfectly ripe.
Foggy ordered pizza and watched Top Gun. The third time the pizza guy arrived while “Danger Zone” was playing in the background of Foggy’s swank apartment, he made some kind of snide remark about Foggy’s crush on Tom Cruise and Foggy almost punched him. No one cries their way through Top Gun, but maybe he wiped his eyes a few times. It was only because he’d always liked “Take My Breath Away,” and he certainly put away the pizza no problem.
Foggy had managed to stay away from the ice cream parlor, mostly, but empty pint cartons of Chubby Hubby and Cherry Garcia could be spotted in his trash with increasing regularity.
He never went to Josie’s. Never. He couldn’t bear the thought of it.
Matt had been gone for nearly a month, when Foggy went to Cafe Grind for a mocha. He was looking over the cookies of the day, the double chocolate looked great as always, but the gingerbread was fat and glittering with sugar crystals. And of course, the butterscotch blondies…
The doorbell jingled, and someone came in, tapping a cane. The rhythmic sound was like a heartbeat in Foggy’s ears. He froze. He couldn’t look. The cookie case was riveting.
“Foggy?” Matt said. He voice was rusty, like he hadn’t spoken in weeks.
Black swam across Foggy’s vision, and he knew he wasn’t going to handle this well.
“Hey Matt,” he said mildly, “you want a cookie?”
“Uh,” Matt said. “Yes, please.”
Always such good manners.
Foggy paid for two coffees and one of each kind of cookie.
“Long time no see,” Foggy said, and despite himself, his voice wavered, a tear trickling out of his left eye. Maybe Matt wouldn’t smell it over the salted caramel.
Kummerspeck is a German word that literally means "grief bacon." It refers to emotional overeating. On the show, Matt and Foggy eat and drink together all the time. Their clients are too poor and often pay them with food. Karen makes bad coffee (probably on purpose), so they bring treats into the office. Josie's is a neighborhood dive bar where they used to go to unwind. I'm not sure if Foggy would gain weight from grief-eating, or actually lose weight from working long hours.
The detail about Top Gun refers to an in-joke between Matt and Foggy that they are Maverick and Goose.
go on to part 4, Sang-froid