by N. M. Brown
Arthur Dalton smiled in thanks, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s been such a long time … I-… I don’t have many memories left of her.” McQueen’s heart almost gave out. This was also a feeling he knew well; the gut-wrenching blow when you just can’t quiet remember their smile, or which was their favourite toy.
“McQueen.” Hale said, placing his half-drunk coffee down. “If you can hold the fort here, I will take Mr. Dalton to see his daughter. We’ll see if we can get her body realised for burial, sir.” Spluttering a ‘thank you, thank you so much,’ Mr Dalton broke down again, flooded with the imagery of a funeral; having to bury his little girl and say goodbye for the last time.
Watching them both leave, despite the circumstance, a feeling washed over McQueen, like a warm blanket on a cold day. The knowledge that Wendall, whatever had happened to her in the past, was going back to people who loved her to be buried with care. It soothed McQueen to his very soul and as he held up the first photo he ever saw of Wendell; happily smiling at the camera playing in her father’s arms, McQueen knew in an instant, that this image was exactly how Wendell felt now. Happy, loved, carefree, but most importantly, at peace.
◆◆◆
That ‘warm blanket’ McQueen had shrouded around himself in the dying light of the day was brutally ripped away from him without warning just a few hours later.
He’d spent the better part of the evening going through reports, crime screen photos and calling all of Johnny Bell’s family friends requesting they join him at the station for some easy questions. If Johnny had been approached by these kidnappers with these sweets, maybe others had too. He’d made a few notes to go over with Hale before they called it a night, when instead, once again, his name was called across the station floor.
“Canice.” A voice shouted with delight and McQueen jerked his head up in utter surprise, but quick shrank low into his chair. Dressed in jeans, tan knee-high boots and a burgundy leather jacket, his wife walked through the sea of desks.
“Anna.” McQueen replied, trying to put as much happiness into his voice as he could but even to his ears it didn’t sound convincing. Anna, however, still giggled like a schoolgirl, oblivious to the sombre atmosphere. Not two hours ago a full-grown man had cried over the loss of her daughter. Everyone had seen and had felt his pain. Anna was a crude punch to the nose and McQueen was ashamed to say he was embarrassed. Nevertheless, she still bounded over, full of glee and sway in her hips.
“Hello my darling husband. I’m so glad you’re still here.” She smiled, planting a loud, wet kiss on his cheek though she was aiming for his mouth. A quick head turn made her miss, but Anna acted like she didn’t even notice.
Lots of the on-duty police officers enjoyed an eyeful before returning to work, but McQueen didn’t know how that made him feel. She was his wife, he should be proud she was so fine to look at, but his traitors mind whispered that they truly didn’t know her, not the way he did.
Leaning over his desk so he could get a long look down her cleavage, Anna pouted with a smile. “Could we do dinner? Nothing fancy, I’m hardy dressed, but somewhere nice. Somewhere up-beat, so we could chat.” She laughed with a smile; a smile that once got McQueen to do whatever she desired, his heart on his sleeve and his eyes blinded by stars. However, that was then, and this was now, and McQueen was quite sure that whatever restaurant Anna had in mind, he couldn’t afford it.
“No.” McQueen answered and started to shuffle paperwork. “I’m busy Anna. I don’t have the time. You should have called and asked first.”
“And have you snap at me and turn me down over the phone?” Anna hissed, all her charm and femininity gone. McQueen remembered these times more, when she would bite at him with harsh words and bitter resentment. It never took her long though to coo apologise in a half-hearted manner, before wanting to make it up to him with sex. As expected, she took a deep breath and settled her anger, sauntering around to sit squarely in front of him, pushing her body as close as possible. “All I want is a dinner date with my husband. Is that too much to ask?”
McQueen growled under his breath but kept all emotion off his face. “As I just told you Anna, I’m busy. I’m sorry you’ve wasted your time.”
“Canice.” She whispered in that gentle voice she use to use after passionate sex. It was the soft voice she’d used in years passed and McQueen's heart gave a little pitter-patter at the memory. That voice-, that voice he remembered always laughing at him, with him... she used it on him like a leash. “Please. You can’t avoid me forever.”
He could try, his mind whispered but his heart wasn’t in it. He gave a reluctant nod and stood so his face was no longer trapped in her bosom. “I meant it when I said I’m busy. No dinner date. If you want to talk, we can talk in the break room.”
Anna deflated and parted her lips to protest but McQueen was determined. Walking away, he left her objections in his wake and entered the break room that smelt of stale coffee. If she was that picky, she didn’t have to follow.
◆◆◆
Five minutes later they were sat across from each other on a round, unsteady table, each with a mug of suspicious looking tea in front of them. McQueen felt his dread rise as he stared into the murky, liquid. He wanted to hide. He didn’t want the conversation he knew was coming, so, as an alternative, he lunged at the second topic he didn’t want to discuss. “How is life staying with Echo?”
Anna’s eyes narrowed, and her mouth puckered in annoyance. Apparently, this wasn’t her first choice of topic to discuss. “Its fine. It’s a lovely place.” McQueen nodded, knowing how easily Anna was drawn in by anything that sparkled. “The House is strange. And the staff are strange. Her family, they give me… creepy looks.” She admitted. McQueen's hands tightened around his mug as he swallowed. Did he believe? Sins and devils and desires… Which side of the spinning coin did he want it to fall on: truth or lies?
“That’s good. I’m glad they are looking after you.”
Anna snorted, rolling her eyes. “Looking after’ isn’t how I would describe it.” Sipping her tea, she didn’t seem to notice its bitter after taste. “Echo’s room is on the top floor and I have to walk all the way up past all the drunk, leery men.” She shifted in her seat, like the thought of those drunk eyes made her uncomfortable. “They have no food in the whole place and its huge. I had to go out to buy breakfast and lunch today, which is why I hoped you’d join me for dinner.”
Anna gave McQueen a look which was meant to stimulate pity; but the only thought that came to McQueen's mind was, what did Echo eat? “I wish I could stay somewhere quieter.” Ann tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “I’m sure your roommates really wouldn’t mind one extra guest.”
McQueen tried not to twitch into a scowl. “They would mind Anna.” He made a point of not apologising. “Its tight as it is, and I’m still haven’t settled myself. I’ve only met two of three roommates and I’m not stirring up trouble. I can’t go and demand they make room for another person.”
Annas mouth tightened but she moved on, not winning that point. “Fine. Well, how about we get our own place: you and me. If you so desperate to stay in Rippling, then we should at least act like a couple.”
“We aren’t a-,” But McQueen quickly swallowed his words.
Anna’s hackles were up in an instant. “We aren’t what Canice?” she spat. “Not a couple? We are still married, you know. You said you needed space and I gave it to you. You said you needed new surroundings and that you were moving to the middle of nowhere. I gave you that! But you want to tell me we aren’t a couple; we aren’t together? Whose fault it that.”
The anger in Anna’s eyes shocked him, “I know that Anna.” McQueen said quietly, trying to keep her placid. “And it means a lot to me that you did-…,”
“But?” She snapped. “I can hear the but, Canice!” Suddenly tears sprung in her eyes and her anger transformed into crumpling sorrow. “But you don’t love me anymore. Is that it Canice?”
; McQueen lost his breath, his voice just above a whisper. “You know I will always love you Anna. You-… You were my everything.”
“You’ll always love me, but I was your everything, in the past-tense.” Anna sniffed, a mixture of angry and sad. “You love me, but not anymore?”
McQueen bowed his head in shame. He wasn’t lying. He did love Anna, more than she could possibly know. They’d met in primary school after his Ma made them move. A new village, a new school; McQueen had felt so alone. But Anna had been there. She tried to cheer him up every day and soon enough he looked forward to seeing her smile and her laugh. Then they had grown up and had become best friends: they’d studied together, hung out together, went to the movies together; they were dating before they realised they were. Then, they had tied the high school knot, becoming a couple and never broke apart. She’d been his first date, first kiss, first hand job, blow job, and then finally, after years, Anna had been his first love on a hotel bed after Prom.
Then it had all fallen apart.
“You still are my everything Anna, but-… so was the baby.” Tears pinched at McQueen's eyes and he could have sworn the mug between his hands would break any second.
“And you think the baby didn’t mean to world to me too?” Anna asked, but McQueen didn’t dare answer. His answer was no.
There was no way Anna could have loved that child as much as he did. He dreamed of that baby, of holding it, feeding it, lulling it to sleep with tales his Nana used to tell him. Anna never spoke of those things. She might have loved the child, sure, but there had been other ; a truth he couldn’t ignore.
“Want happened… What happened was irreversible Canice, the doctors said so.” Anna seethed. This was a conversation they had had many times. “What happened was out of my control, when will you believe me?”
McQueen could only nod. He remembered it all as crisp as a bell: what the Doctors had said, how it couldn’t have been stopped and how it was all unexpected. He knew it all.
“What do you want Anna?” McQueen finally asked. His mission to keep them off one conversation topic - Anna'a demand for them to get back together - but that hadn’t worked and evidently they'd ended up on an even worse topic. Now he was drained, tired and want to go home.
“I want to know when you are going to come back to me Canice? I want to know when we are going home. To Ireland?”
McQueen opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. Did he want to go home? Could he? He’d been a coward and run away a year ago: at first into his work, then towards his promotion and then physically to Rippling. His Ma refused to speak to him now, only sending a birthday and Christmas card because it would look immoral if she didn’t. Anna had allowed him to go and he’d been thankful, but as more time passed, he didn’t miss home. The truth was, he didn’t miss anything in Ireland.
Anna must have read this on his face, because she took a long solid breath through her nose. “So, what Canice? Do you want a divorce? Our separation almost killed your mother, while my mother blew her top. Taking it as far as a divorce would do more damage than anyone can take right now.”
These thoughts must have been dancing around Anna’s head for a while because McQueen hadn’t even thought of the outside impact. All that occurred to him were his own selfish reasons: if they got a divorce it meant he had failed, not just as a husband but as a man of God. Till death did they part meant something to him.
“I -… I don’t want a divorce Anna.” He admitted.
“Then what Canice?” Anna asked, a spark of hope in her eyes.
McQueen opened his mouth to speak, still no solution coming to mind, when a soft knock came from the door. “Come in.” He automatically responded and Anna’s face fell into a scowl, but he pretended not to see it.
“McQueen?” It was Reese… or Roman.
“Hi, Rrr-….” McQueen flushed with embarrassment.
The twin only chuckled, “Roman.” The kid smiled. “I, um… Just wanted to let you know Hale was back and looking for you…” He trailed off giving a small smile to Anna who didn’t smile back.
“Sure. I can come now.” McQueen stood to leave.
“Canice?” Anna protested but he didn’t pause.
“I told you Anna, I’m busy with this case. I’m sorry but it’s just a bad time.” Pouring his untouched tea down the drain, like a coward he kept his eyes away from Anna, unable to look her in the eye. “I’ve got to go. Take your time, but escort yourself out when you’re ready.” Leaving the room, Roman kept pace. “What did Hale say? I didn’t expect him back for a while.” He whispered to Roman.
“Ah, well…” Roman dawdled and McQueen drew to a stop to look at the photographer. He gave McQueen a sheepish grin and scratched the back of his head. “Hale’s actually not here. You looked to be about five seconds from drowning yourself in that cup of tea… I thought you’d like an out.” Showing off his dimples, Roman flushed in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to overstep. I’m sorry.”
McQueen released a breath, which Roman must have taken as anger because his face fell in worry, but the thing was, McQueen didn’t have a drop of anger in him. “No. No, you were right.” Shaking his head, “She does something to me, any time I'm with her. It’s like she just,… drowns me. I can’t think. I can’t… process what I want. It’s like all I want is to please her.” McQueen's tongue tasted bitter after he spoke and a hot, coil of blame flared in his gut.
“It sounds to me like getting away to the open countryside was the best thing to do.” Roman said honestly and smiled. “You might still be new around here, but despite Reese’s misgivings, we’re both happy to have you. Plus, I’ve head good things from all the guys here.” Roman nudged McQueen with his shoulder. “Don’t let your past control where you want your future to go.”
McQueen mulled Roman’s words around his head and smiled. “Sounds like good advice.”
And he felt it was. A lot had happened in his past McQueen was regretful of. There was a lot he hid, but he knew in the Lords own way, it made him stronger, tougher and open to new ways to love.
If he’s been asked two years ago if he was ok living with two gay brothers in a tiny, sleepy town where his job was not sleepy at all, he’d have laughed; the idea of leaving Ireland unimaginable. If he’d been asked if any other woman could catch his eye, he would have presented Anna and asked if there was a point. But now he couldn’t say. He loved her, but not as he once did. In this new town with new people and memories, his past was becoming distant.
Yet, even as he felt himself lighten; one heavy stone still hung around McQueen's neck. It was something his Nana had said in her dying days. She’d whispered it, her chapped lips scraping together as they quivered with effort.
Nothing ever went away until it had taught you everything you needed to see.
◆◆◆
Night closed heavily around them and McQueen was in a chipper mood, despite the roller-coaster of emotions he’d been thrown today. Memory lane had not been his friend, nor had it been to others.
“Look, I’m just saying, for a favour, McQueen’s squeeze could stay with us.” Reese declared as they tumbled down the Station steps haven called it a night.
Roman cast McQueen a suspicious glace before focusing on his brother. “And this favour you’d want, what would that be exactly?”
“He’s a strapping man, Roman. He could be our wing man.” Reese explained, before giving McQueen a leer, “In a strictly heterosexual capacity. We’ll go out, have fun, knock that crazy wife from his mind.”
Reese was good; he sounded very genuine, full of concern for McQueen, no doubt hearing all his struggles from Roman.
“Like next week. We’ll go to Bump. It’s Threesome Thursdays so it’ll be busy; lots of pretty girls, loads of hunky men!” Reese smiled, starting to dance in the station’s courtyard. “You’ll definitely forget all your troubles there: three shots for the price of one, three cocktails for the price of one, three pints for the price of one.” He exp
lained.
McQueen laughed, turning his collar up against the chill. “It sounds nice.” Of course, he wouldn’t commit. With Reese there was always a catch…
