A Cold Blue Call

by A. J. Downey

  Angel…

  “Man, the weekend cannot come fast enough,” Backdraft said, flopping down into the seat beside mine at the dinner table.

  “Yeah, I feel you,” I said, and he eyed me carefully.

  “Last night was a rough call, I hear.”

  I nodded. “Man, if I hadn’t had Claire to go home to, it would have been a lot rougher.”

  He grinned and nodded. “I like her,” he declared. “It’s good you have that, bro. I feel the same about Lil. It’s like, things were good before her but it was always like a piece was missing.”

  I nodded and said, “That’s exactly what it feels like, dude. You took the words right out of my mouth.”

  He clapped me on the back.

  “How’s she doing, anyway?”

  “Still waiting to hear back from the Night Circus but she’s not expecting much on that front. An opportunity opened up over at the Thin Blue Line for her. At least, maybe. She’s waiting to hear back from McGowan.”

  “Oh yeah, what’s that about?”

  “You haven’t seen it?” I asked. “I figured everyone had by now, I keep getting texts and messages about it.”

  “Naw, man. What’re you talking about?”

  “Hey!” I called out and a bunch of guys who were talking in the station house’s living room looked over. “You guys actually watching that over there?”

  “No, we’re just talking, why?”

  “Cool, I want to pull something up on the TV.” I brought out my phone. Some of the guys around here were tech-crazy and we all had our phones synced with the TV. One of the guys picked up the TV remote and flipped it over to the input and my phone’s screen popped up. I brought up YouTube and punched in the search term that would bring up Claire’s performance at the Thin Blue Line.

  The sound blared out a little loud and I turned it down from my phone, but it captured a bunch of the guy’s attention as she and McGowan squared off to climb. Backdraft lost his shit when she straight up smoked him.

  “It gets better, dude, just watch.”

  We settled back and she dropped that gym bag and Barnaby, one of the guys, called out, “Angel, is that your new girl? The suicide call you went on?”

  “Yeah, and don’t put it like that, man. I don’t want that shit to be what she’s known for. I knew her a long time ago before that even came up for her. That was just how we reconnected.”

  “My bad,” Barnaby replied.

  “Jesus, Barn.” Ripley shook his head.

  “What?”

  Barnaby wisely didn’t push it, just went back to watching Claire sitting up in her silks, asking for music. Everybody watched appreciatively as she went through her freestyle routine, and no surprise, one of the first comments made was out of Johnson, saying, “Man, she must be fun as hell in the bedroom with all that flexibility.” He gave a low whistle.

  “Dude! Respect, that’s Angel’s woman. You talked about my Lil like that, I’d knock your damn teeth down your throat.” Backdraft scowled at Johnson who immediately shut his skinny ass up. Johnson, in typical fashion, got butt-hurt and got up, moving away from us to sulk. I shook my head.

  “Man, I miss my old partner.”

  “How she doing?”

  “You know, I don’t know. Haven’t heard much from her since she hit Florida. Funny how that works out, some people you work with, you think you’re tight, you think you’re friends, then they move on and it’s like you’re forgotten. You really were just a job.”

  “Wow, that’s seriously how you feel about that one?”

  “I mean, yeah. I’ve sent her messages and she’s read ‘em. It’s said she’s read ‘em, but she don’t answer back.”

  “Now, that’s some bullshit. I’m sorry, man.”

  “Tell me about it. I hate to sound like a pussy, but that hurts.”

  “Maybe she’s got something going on.”

  “Maybe, but is it really so hard to say so?”

  “You’ve got a point there.” Backdraft heaved a sigh and looked around. “Johnson getting on your nerves?”

  I nodded. “It’s not a good fit. I think he doesn’t fit with anybody, to be honest with you.”

  “That’s why they put him with you,” Backdraft said dryly. “You’ve got God’s own patience, bro. You do fit with anybody.”

  “Yeah, well, I guess it’s saying something that I don’t fit with him.”

  “Yeah, yeah it is. Gonna request a different partner?”

  “Thinking about it.”

  “Hey, Angel! Let’s go, man we got a call!” Johnson called from down below.

  I heaved myself to my feet and said, “Duty calls.” Backdraft and I grasped hands and I pulled myself down to tap shoulders.

  “Be careful out there.”

  “Always.”

  “You should bring your lady for dinner. That was some impressive shit,” Ripley said, as I passed him.

  “Yeah, I’ll suggest it to her,” I said, and took the brass pole down to the first floor. I jumped into the passenger side of the rig and Johnson pulled out of the open garage door, tripping the lights, but waiting until we hit the end of the drive to hit the sirens.

  I didn’t really speak to him, still pissed about his inappropriate comment about Claire. It just wasn’t something you said to a man about his woman. Not when it was serious.

  By the end of the shift, I had put in my request to be partnered up with someone else. I didn’t throw him under the bus and say why I wanted to be swapped, and I had a feeling it was a question I was going to be asked. The sad reality was, I had a laundry list of reasons. I didn’t want to see the guy lose his job, and I was afraid for him on that front. It wasn’t a good situation to be in, yet there I was.

  I just hoped that Claire’s night was going better than mine was.

  20

  Claire…

  I skipped down the steps and went down into the urban market. I’d had to get out of the house. I was someone who constantly had to be moving or doing something and there were only so many books I could read without starting to climb the walls. We needed some things around the place, nothing super-essential, but enough to warrant a trip to the store.

  It was a ways away from the marina, but a familiar market to me, being close to my brother’s. I had walked there, and planned to take a car back. Rideshare apps had made city life so much easier in that regard, and I loved that.

  I picked one of the little double-decker half-buggies out of the line of them. I liked those, too. Bigger than a basket, but smaller than a traditional shopping buggy, they seemed more efficient and less wasteful. I took a deep cleansing sigh and headed into the store, starting with the produce section. It felt good to be doing something even as mundane as grocery shopping. Especially, after the news I’d gotten, which had been expected, but still hurt.

  I was still fired and Milo still had his job.

  They were circling the wagons around him, and no, I wasn’t going to go quietly. I’d already spoken to a lawyer, and after listening to all I had to say? He was already drawing up paperwork and seeing dollar signs. I hadn’t told management everything ‒ why would I? They had every opportunity to do the right thing, and had taken a pass. All bets were off, now.

  Still, I felt down. I felt shitty, and for some reason, it seemed the universe just wanted to pile it on.

  “Auntie Claire!”

  My little niece’s exuberant voice broke me out of my sightless staring at the carrots. I looked over as she broke free from her mother and came bounding over. She was wearing her little tap shoes, and her light pink tights peeked out from under her heavy, brighter-pink winter coat.

  “Heyyy!” I cried, laughing nervously as she threw her five-year-old self into my arms. I picked her up and hugged her, because it wasn’t her fault the adults weren’t getting along. Still, I looked for Carter and didn’t find him. When I didn’t see him, I relaxed a little.

  “Urgh! You’re choking me!” I mocked, and laughed as her gr
ip got just a little bit stronger where her arms were behind my neck.

  “Gracie, come here, let’s give Auntie Claire a bit of a breather, okay?” Mallory, her mother, called out. I set her down and tried not to cringe on the outside. She hadn’t said so, but I heard the ‘crazy’ in Mallory’s tone just the same; as in ‘Let’s not agitate crazy Aunt Claire.’

  Of course, it could just be me projecting. I hadn’t spoken to Mallory at all, not since before I’d taken all those pills. I also had no idea what Carter had told her. The whole thing left me feeling embarrassed and like I was standing on shaky ground. I didn’t like the feeling at all.

  Mallory took Gracie’s hand and smiled at me, asking, “Claire, how are you doing?”

  “Fine,” I said, nodding. “Surprisingly, everything is good.”

  “Yeah?” she asked, taken aback, and it flipped the switch on my suspicion.

  “I’m doing everything I should be doing,” I said, nodding again. That wasn’t exactly true. I was taking my medication they’d prescribed and I was feeling better, but I hadn’t followed up with any therapy once I’d been released. I probably needed it, but I felt okay. Solid again. I had to credit that to Angel more than anything, for giving me someone to talk to, for loving me when I felt unlovable, and for providing me a safe, quiet place to heal.

  She sighed and looked at me, a worried expression on her face. I shifted uneasily on my feet, unsure what to say. She broke the awkward silence first.

  “I really wish you would reconsider and come back home, with us,” she blurted.

  I frowned.

  “What?” I asked.

  Her expression went from sympathetic and concerned to bewildered. I turned my head slightly and let out a sigh of pure frustration.

  “Carter said –” and I raised a hand to stop Mallory in her tracks.

  “I don’t know what Carter told you, Mal, but I promise you, me not coming back wasn’t my choice. What really happened was, he didn’t care. He didn’t want to know why. All he cared about was whether or not you and Gracie would have been the ones to find me like that, and he said he’d bring my stuff and that was it. I had to go. He wasn’t about to have me back in your house to try again.” I shook my head, tears stinging the backs of my eyes.

  “Oh, my God, Claire…” Mallory looked stricken.

  “Don’t be sad, Auntie Claire,” Gracie begged and I sniffed.

  I knelt down and told her, “It’s okay to be sad sometimes, Gracie. Just not all of the time, okay? If it’s all of the time, you need to talk to somebody, okay?” She nodded and I smiled. “Come give me another hug,” I said, before I lost it.

  She hugged me tight around my neck again and said miserably, “I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too, little girl.”

  “Claire, I don’t know what to say,” Mallory said and it was true. She looked as speechless as anyone could get.

  I stood up and shook my head, “There’s nothing to say. I’m gonna go. It would probably be best if you didn’t tell Carter you saw me.”

  I left abruptly, overwhelmed and fighting back tears. I loved my sister-in-law, adored my niece, and even though he was a total asshole now, I missed my brother. He was the only family I had left, so this was hard. Incredibly hard.

  “Claire, wait!” Mallory called out, and I stopped outside on the sidewalk when I heard Gracie’s running steps, her little tap shoes clacking against the pavement.

  I didn’t want her to get hurt, so I turned around and caught her as she flung herself at me. She was fighting back tears and cried mournfully, “Don’t go! Not like that, don’t be sad!”

  “Gracie’s right, Claire. Come inside, finish your shopping and talk to me. We’re your family, too. Even…” she faltered a bit, then made up her mind and said resolutely, “Even if Carter isn’t acting like it.”

  I sniffed and stared at my sister-in-law, my niece hugging me around my waist, looking up at me hopeful, and I couldn’t resist that face even if I tried. I felt a deep concern of my own over her and Mallory’s well-being, stemming from Mallory’s siding with me over my brother. The fact she even remotely believed me over Carter spoke volumes. There was trouble with my brother’s marriage, but I couldn’t say I was totally surprised. Carter had turned into a control freak. The problem was, how to stop it? He lived for Mal and Gracie. I may have been hurt by my brother, but I still loved him and I didn’t want to see him lose his family.

  “Have things gotten that bad?” I asked Mallory, sensitive about asking something like that in front of Gracie, but my curiosity was overwhelming at this point.

  “I didn’t think so,” she said, drawing near and hooking her arm through mine to guide me back down the stairs and into the market. Gracie echoed her mom on the other side, her little hand in mine. I realized my typically-exuberant niece was being uncharacteristically quiet and reserved and I knew she was a smart girl. I shot Mallory a pointed look and looked down at Gracie. Mallory nodded and gave a big sigh.

  “I didn’t think so, but apparently so,” she supplied and I nodded and had to read between the lines. I assumed she was talking about Carter lying to her, which he clearly had about me. We went through the grocery’s sweeping automatic glass doors and headed back in the direction of the colorful fruit and vegetable displays.

  “We should have dinner,” she said after we found our abandoned buggies, right where we’d left them in the produce section.

  “Oh, I don’t know…” I said.

  “Seriously!” she cried.

  “Yeah!” Gracie echoed enthusiastically.

  “We could even have dinner wherever you’re staying if that would make you more comfortable. Speaking of, I really hope you’ll let me drive you home after we’re done here.”

  “Oh, I really don’t know…” I trailed off.

  “Pleeeease?” Gracie begged. “I wanna see your house!”

  “Oh, honey, I don’t have a house,” I said.

  “What hotel are you staying at?” Mallory asked.

  I shook my head. “I’m not staying at a hotel. I’m staying with someone.”

  “Oh.” She looked at me, her eyes widening a little and she blinked, surprised, the sentiment echoed in her exclaimed, “Oh!”

  I blushed and put some carrots into a bag, weighed them to make sure I had enough, added some more, and, satisfied, put them in the buggy.

  “What does that mean?” Gracie asked.

  I laughed a little and said, “It means that it’s not my house, it’s my friend’s house; I’m just staying there.”

  “Oh. Well then I want to see her house!”

  “It’s not a she, honey. Angel is a man.”

  “His name is Angel?” Gracie asked, scrunching her nose.

  “Well, no, his name is Ramiro, but all of his friends and family call him Angel.”

  “How come?”

  Because he is one, I thought, but I didn’t know how to explain that one. I looked to Mallory for help, and she just looked at me, amused, like I was on my own.

  “That is a very long story for another time.”

  “When?”

  “When you’re older,” I said, and Gracie rolled her eyes and gave an exasperated sigh.

  “That’s what Daddy tells me when he doesn’t want to tell me.”

  Mallory chuckled and I fought not to smile. I knew she was smart for her age. I also knew she was about to be six, going on thirty-six. Gracie had my brother’s habit of wanting to know everything, even things that were no five-going-on-six-year-old’s business. Like trying to put herself in the middle of her parent’s issues.

  Genetically, she had a lot of her father in her, and as a result, I had no worries for my niece. She would go far and be quite successful in life once she got to be old enough to put that moxie to use. She would be just fine.

  As long as she’s not like you and tries to join the circus.

  God forbid she become passionate about something other than a straitlaced job that would earn he
r money and praise. I already knew how that would go over with my brother. Something like a balloon filled with lead.

  Nothing seemed good enough for Carter other than what his idea of success was. I’d learned that the hard way and I hoped that Gracie never had to.

  We finished our shopping and I followed Mallory and Gracie to the garage. Gracie got herself settled in her booster seat and Mallory asked me where she could take me. I directed her to the marina where Angel’s houseboat was moored, and Mallory asked, “When would be a good night for the four of us to have dinner?”

  “Four of us?” I asked, unsure if she meant me and her little family of three, or if she were including Angel.

  “Yes,” she said evenly. “You, your man, your brother, and I.”

  “I didn’t know if you meant Gracie,” I stammered.

  Gracie piped up from the back.

  “Yeah, mom! Why can’t I come?”

  “Because the adults need to talk, baby.”

  Gracie harrumphed and went back to her tablet and whatever little game she was playing that had frogs’ ribbiting all over the place.

  “I really don’t know how I feel about the whole idea, to be honest,” I murmured. “When were you thinking?”

  “How about Sunday?” she asked, and I shook my head.

  “Angel and I already have dinner plans for Sunday night. He’s a devout Catholic and takes his nephew every Sunday. We’re supposed to go to his brother’s for dinner that night.”

  “Oh, well, scratch that, then.” Mallory laughed, and it held an edge of something I couldn’t define but it almost sounded like nervousness. I guess the whole thing was really awkward. I mean, they’d never heard of Angel before. I hadn’t talked about him.

  “Let me call you,” I said gently, as she pulled down into the lot of the marina. “Something next week maybe. I would like to talk to Angel about it first.”

  “Okay,” Mallory said, a bit dubiously. “Just promise me that you will call.”

  I nodded and said, “I can at least promise you that.”

  She leaned across the center console and hugged me and I thanked her for the ride. A little, solemn voice came from the back seat.