by Edwin Dasso
Staying busy the rest of the day helped Nicole push the sadness out of her thoughts, as one minor case after another filed through the ER. Finally, her shift was over at seven. Twelve hours a day, three days a week, she was exhausted but still had one more day to work before Christmas vacation. It would be the first Christmas in years that she didn’t have to take call or work.
Contemplating what was for dinner from Gus’s deli got her through many stressful days, but tonight, it was about seeing Andy, too. At the end of her shift, at her locker changing out of her grubby scrubs, she heard the chatter around her as other nurses prepared to leave for the day. Many had families waiting for their arrival that evening. After dinner, they’d prepare for the next day, making sure homework got done and clothes laid out. But this week, they’d be getting ready for Santa to come.
The single women went to the gym or their book clubs or the neighborhood knitting shop. Hearing about all the vital activities her colleagues did unsettled Nicole. She vowed to do something constructive with her time off, but by the time she got home, all her resolve to exercise or do something creative would disappear. She looked forward to food too much, often planning what snacks she’d eat while watching inane television, wasting time that she could’ve used for reading or sleeping.
Why wasn’t it enough to do healthy things for herself? And now that she’d met Andy, why did she suddenly feel like she would follow through because of him? Some women need a partner to get motivated, a voice said. Depressingly she thought, What if nothing comes of it?
Pulling into the parking garage in her building, she decided not to walk up to her apartment to get out of scrubs, glad she’d changed. It was already nearing eight, and she didn’t want to keep Andy waiting. She arrived at Gus’s as one other customer was in line, waiting for her dinner order. She glanced at Nicole and smiled, they recognized each other from the hospital. Andy came out with a bag of food containers, giving Nicole a warm smile that went right to her heart.
“Here you go,” he said, reading off a list. “Two spaghetti and meatball, a pastitsio and lamb.”
“That’s right,” she said, taking her bags to leave. “My house is going to smell so good tonight.”
Nicole smiled at her. “Have a good night.” She was finally becoming part of the community. Running into her co-workers, now getting to know the shop owners, she was sure Greektown would be where she would spend the rest of her life. Waves of warmth and peace washed over her. Don’t jinx it, she thought.
Andy walked around the counter and came to her. He took her mittened hand and pressed it to his chest, looking into her eyes. “Hey, there.”
“Hey,” she replied softly. They could hear Gus and Estelle chatting back in the kitchen, laughter and clanging pots and pans.
“Let’s have dinner upstairs. My boys are there alone.”
She nodded, a lump in her throat making speech difficult, and she didn’t know if she could trust her voice.
“My mom and dad just left,” he said. “When you met them Sunday I think it helped that you were Greek.”
She tried not to read anything into his words; his mother was definitely trying to give her a message about Andy not being ready for a girlfriend, but she wasn’t going to tattle on her.
“Oh, is that right! Well, it’s finally working for me,” she said, laughing.
“My mom’s Syrian,” Andy said. He told her about Anna’s devotion to her own parents, who were still alive, active in their mosque, and critical of their daughter who worshiped at the Greek Orthodox Church, too.
“Are you an only child?” Nicole asked.
Andy nodded. “What about you?”
“I have sisters. I’m number three, right in the middle of five girls. The stories I could tell!”
“I’m trying to imagine what that’s like. Growing up, the house was so quiet; my mom doted on me while my father’s life revolved around my afterschool activities. Now I have to keep a schedule to make sure I’m attending to my boy’s needs.”
“It must be difficult doing it alone,” she replied.
Andy thought about his late wife, Dana, how he tried to please her by taking over the morning routine with the boys so she could sleep in, and rushing home everyday from work, leaving Gus alone for the dinner crowd. But it still wasn’t enough.
He decided to be upfront with Nicole. “It’s really okay. My marriage was over, but we hadn’t gotten around to formally ending it. My wife was murdered by her lover, in front of our boys.”
Nicole gasped, and then not able to control it, she started to cry. “Oh, I’m sorry. How awful for you, Andy. You and the boys.”
He put his arm around her shoulder. “Let’s go upstairs,” he said, calling goodbye over his shoulder to Gus. They walked together as Nicole wiped her eyes. When they got to the stairwell, he bent down and kissed her on the mouth. Nicole tried to hold back a little but failed. History had her succumbing to the need for affection, jumping into bed too quickly and then never hearing from the guy again. It was devastating to her self-esteem, but she kept doing it.
This time, she was going to try something different. It already felt different; Andy was an adult for one thing, with a lot at risk. He wouldn’t have introduced her to his boys if she wasn’t worthy of them. She’d never dated anyone with kids before. Hoping her nurturing trait just needed the opportunity to come out, she’d find out soon if she even had one. The kiss told her he was fond of her, that he wanted to get to know her better. She was all for it, so she kissed him back, deciding not to worry so much.
“Definitely good,” Andy said.
“Definitely.” They held hands, and she followed him up the stairs, laughter coming from the apartment. He opened the door for her, and she walked through into the now familiar space. The boys were sitting at the same kitchen table she’d sat at the first time she had coffee with Andy, coloring with crayons and blank sheets of paper.
“Greg, Danny, you remember Miss Nicole,” Andy said.
“Hi,” they chorused.
Greg looked at her pink scrubs. “Are you a nurse?”
“Yes,” she answered, to screams of delight.
“Ew! Blood and guts,” Danny said.
Andy was surprised they were goofing around, happy that the memory of Dana’s murder just last summer hadn’t lingered. The boys teased each other, but soon lost interest in Nicole and their father, going back to coloring their pictures.
“Do you want coffee first?”
“I better not,” she said, explaining since it was so late, she had to be in bed by ten or the next day at work would be torture.
“Oh, I’m sorry, of course,” he answered. “Here, have a seat, and I’ll bring you dinner.” He smiled as he helped her off with her coat and pointed to his recliner.
“I can’t take the recliner. I’ll never get up.”
“Well, that’s okay, too.” He went back down the stairs to the store. Nicole felt silly with her boots on. The recliner was warm and comfortable, and a soft yellow light from the table lamp cast shadows, while the boys talked to each other as they colored.
“Nicole, dinner’s ready.” She heard him, felt his hand on her shoulder.
“Oh, how embarrassing,” she said, pushing the foot of the recliner down.
“Don’t get up,” Andy said. “I’ll bring your dinner to you.” But she was already sitting up.
“Forgive me. I keep forgetting what a dud I am during the week. I almost always fall asleep before bedtime.”
He was smiling down at her. “I do, too. I’m glad you’re comfortable here, Nicole. It means a lot.”
She thought it transcended comfort; she was ready to move in. Trying to regain some decorum, she smiled as she struggled to get out of the chair. She excused herself to use the bathroom.
“Nice job, Haleros,” she said to her reflection. “Are you friggin’ kidding me? I hope you didn’t snore.” She washed her hands and, smoothing her hair, shook her head at the reflection in the mi
rror. “You’re a mess.”
He was waiting for her in the dining room, his dirty apron off. The plates were dished up, and she could see she was having baked chicken for dinner, with potatoes, green beans and a salad.
“Oh, this looks so wonderful,” she said. “I’m grateful for dinner. Thank you, Andy.”
He leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Thank you,” he replied. “Thanks for having dinner with me.”
It was less than a year that Dana had been gone; a little early to be dating, his mother had warned repeatedly. But Andy didn’t care. His marriage was over long before Dana died, her rejection breaking his heart.
Whether or not this new relationship was going to go anywhere was yet to be seen. So much about it was good; Nicole was pretty, smart, funny and wanted a family. He’d do his best to allow things to take their course.
While she was struggling to stay in control and out of his bed, he was planning how they could be together without the whole family finding out. He’d have to get a sitter for the boys if he went to her place, and he didn’t feel right about her staying with him.
Unless, and this thought came to him as he was holding her body against his down in the dark stairwell before she left after dinner, unless it was during an evening that Gus stayed at Estelle’s. He’d found a solution to the dilemma, and in his excitement that there was hope for them, he bent down and kissed her again.
16
With an ice pack strapped to her face, Jill was lying on the floor doing very slow leg lifts. It was all the exercise she could manage with her busted rib. The movement of her arms or upper body sent her intercostal muscles into painful spasms. Nature would have to take its course before she could resume doing yoga.
Albert had worked at her apartment that morning. They watched the crime scene video, and while it was running, Maxine called her to tell her they’d been able to get a cast of the shoeprint along The Strand, but only for size. The brand was indistinguishable.
“I keep thinking there is an explanation to all of this, Albert,” she said. “Not that the murderer is blameless, but that it is more complicated than we think.” Since she was off the case, she knew it wouldn’t make any difference what her opinion was.
“Do you think Fred is involved directly in the murder? I mean, what would he have gained by killing her? If he didn’t want her to give the videos, all he had to do was take them away from her.”
“I think he is involved in some way,” Jill admitted. “But I agree that he didn’t kill her to keep me from finding out about the videos.
“The sister bothers me. Does she bother you?” Jill asked.
Albert thought about Valarie Caldwell. “I’m bothered by her parents’ apathy for her. They talked down to her. Her mother sneers at her; I mean, when we were at Caldwell’s cottage, her mother pushed her out of the way to get past her.”
“Do you think she’s involved?”
“I don’t know. No. Maybe.” He undid his ponytail and spread his hair out like a shawl over his shoulders.
“You’ll figure it out,” Jill said sympathetically. “It’s so early. Give yourself a few more days, and facts will come forward.”
“What do you think? My new look,” he said, batting his eyelashes.
Jill cocked her head to the side and studied him. “It works,” she said. “But then I’d have to let my hair down, too.”
He laughed and pulled his ponytail back into place.
Mark arrived at the same time Gus came with lunch. The four of them had a great meal together, laughing and talking, the three men focusing on Jill. She was uncomfortable with the attention and kept up a stream of sarcasm to help her feel better. At one, Mark left for work, Albert went back to the precinct to give a rundown of the latest details of the case to Rob, and Gus went back to the store.
After everyone had gone, she was on the floor doing leg lifts when her phone rang, seeing the familiar number made her ill. It was Fred Cooper.
“I thought you’d have heard from your partner by now, and I wanted to give you time to process everything before I called,” he said.
Jill had a body rush of adrenalin, the blood cruising through from head to toe. The injury to her face pulsed with each beat of her heart. “You shouldn’t have called me. We shouldn’t even be speaking.”
“I know it looks bad. I know you are wondering if I had anything to do with Cindy Caldwell’s death.”
Jill wasn’t going to discuss the case with him. “You were seeing her when we were supposed to be exclusive.” The detective in her was dying to ask him why he was in Detroit on the same day she was murdered, but resisted, not wanting to jeopardize the case in any way. It was enough to acknowledge his infidelity and then be done with him.
“Yes, and for that I am truly sorry. It wasn’t what you think it was,” he said, stumbling.
“And what was that, Fred? What do you think I thought it was? A booty call? An accident? The love of your life?” Jill’s sarcasm was no match for Fred, and he clammed up. “I think it was a gift from God that it happened, that I discovered how little you must have really thought of me, before I made a serious mistake.”
As she yammered on, she realized it was ludicrous she was trying to make him feel badly because she was through with him long before his betrayal was discovered. She didn’t really care that he’d been unfaithful to her. Catching herself, she stopped.
“Look, Fred, it was over anyway, so don’t beat yourself up.”
“It was? I mean, I didn’t set out to be a jerk.”
“No, I don’t imagine you did. But whatever, it’s over. I need to hang up. Don’t call me again.” With that, she ended the call. Struggling to sit up from the floor, she crawled to the couch and slowly pulled herself up.
Mark was in the locker room, pulling on his street clothes after working out with his team that afternoon. “Castro’s in a hurry to get out of here again,” one of the men shouted. There was laughter at Mark’s expense, but he didn’t care and joined in. It had been so long since he had a real girlfriend, he was happy they had something positive to tease him about and welcomed the banter.
“Is it the detective?” someone shouted.
“New experience, eh? Datin’ someone with a brain.” Another teased.
Mark shook his head and laughed. “You wouldn’t know, would you?” he answered, laughter rising up. He escaped as fast as he could, smiling on his way to the car.
Sitting at the window next to the Christmas tree looking down at the street, Jill waited for Mark. It was the only light she had on in the apartment except for candlelight and the light above her unused kitchen stove. She looked toward the river and could see the colorful lights from the casino and the shops that were open after seven. Christmas was on Friday. Just three more days.
Car lights were coming down the street, and she knew it was Mark. Seeing him driving toward her filled her with warmth and excitement and, she thought excitedly, love. Maybe because of her injury, something had shifted, and she was getting more information in the past hours. Walking past her altar on the way to open the door, she glanced over and mouthed, Thank you.
Hearing him coming up the stairs, she waited until he was inside the vestibule before opening the door for him. Every time he saw her poor black and blue face, he had to remind himself not to wince.
“Did you have a good afternoon?” he asked, taking her hand and squeezing it.
“I did,” she said, moving aside so he could pass. “I have dinner for you.” He looked at her with raised eyebrows. “No, no, I didn’t make it. More food from my dad’s. I thought we’d have sandwiches tonight, so you don’t get sick of his hot dishes.”
“Never happen,” Mark said. “I’ll go wash up.” When he returned, she had his food ready. They ate and talked, Jill asking about his day.
“I’m intrigued with your job,” she said. “Knowing that a life is on the line is intense. In my line of work, the victim is usually already dead. I rarely worry
about my own safety.”
“Ah, hello,” Mark said with a smirk, nodding toward her face.
“This was a fluke,” Jill replied, embarrassed, her hand traveling to her broken rib.
“Well, it was a lesson, too,” he said gently. “Neither of us can ever be too cautious.” After they ate, they cleared their plates from the table and moved to the living room.
“It was common sense, not just ESP that warned me about going back to Belle Isle alone. I’ve never felt afraid about being at a scene by myself. It’s never been a problem. But something about that morning—it was so cold, and the sky was clear. I looked up at the stars, and I swear, they were flashing a message. I ignored the warning.”
“So tell me, do you get any vibes from me right now?” Mark asked, trying to lighten the mood.
Sitting across from him, Jill giggled at Mark. He’d confessed that stories about her premonitions had reached his precinct.
“What vibe do I get from you,” she repeated, trying not to roar with laughter. “I think I get a vibe that a small child resides in your body; that’s the vibe I get.”
Mark snickered. “You’re right, but let’s be serious. Do you get anything when you look at me?”
Jill could’ve made several provocative comments, but it wasn’t usually her style and too early in their relationship anyway. However, she wanted to give him something.
“I do,” she said, giggling. “But it’s not polite to repeat in mixed company.”
He shifted in the chair. “Oh, I see, torture,” he said.
They were silent for while, Jill enjoying the playfulness of their growing friendship. Then as a reminder of unfinished business, Fred’s phone call that morning came to mind.
“I guess now would be a good time to tell you I had the opportunity to finalize things with the state trooper today,” she said. “Talk about a buzz kill.”
“What happened?” Mark asked softly.
Jill told him about the conversation she’d had with Fred, ending it by telling him never to call her again.
