Callahan's Fate

by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

  Raine loved her job, though, working with kids who were at risk. She enjoyed watching their faces light up when they realized that reading could provide such wide horizons. Although school had been in session just over a month, she thought she might be making the positive difference she had hoped she would. But the ever-changing backdrop of juvenile detention centers, urban high schools larger than any she had ever imagined existed, and pale teens who tried to learn from hospital beds or jail cells challenged her patience and often bit deep into her fragile happiness.

  If she hadn’t been so lonely or felt as lost as she traveled through the boroughs, maybe it wouldn’t have been as difficult. So far, although she interacted daily with others, at the end of the day, she went home alone. She savored solitude, but the empty hours alone were different. In time, she thought she might make some friends, but for now she was solo.

  Each Saturday, Raine attempted to get better acquainted with the city and planned an excursion somewhere. One week, she had shopped at Macy’s flagship store, another she visited Grand Central Station and ate a meal at one of the restaurants on the dining concourse. She’d visited the 9-11 memorial and taken an expensive but somehow lacking bus tour of New York. Nothing brought as much delight as she had hoped, however. So far, the Big Apple had given her a bad case of indigestion.

  On this October day, as she walked hand in hand with Callahan across Battery Park, Raine couldn’t stop smiling. Her planned excursion would have fizzled like the others, she figured. Meeting him changed everything. Her waning enthusiasm for everything ramped into a wonderful sense of anticipation. Anything could be possible.

  She snuck a glance at him as they strolled. His close-cropped, dark brown hair suited him with an almost military look. His square-cut jaw and rugged features confirmed his Irish heritage, although she suspected he might have a few other nationalities in his family tree. Callahan’s dark eyes sparkled as he talked about the restaurant where they were headed, but she thought she glimpsed remnants of sadness in their depths. Although taller than her height, he wasn’t anywhere close to NBA size, and his lean body was compact as well as powerfully built. The way he moved reminded her of a predator—a leopard or a tiger—in the way he prowled with an easy grace. In his faded jeans, she wouldn’t have guessed he was a law enforcement officer, and her gut instinct had been to trust him before he told her his career.

  Callahan combined a gentleman’s charm with the potential for danger. She liked him already and she craved more of his company. Whatever happened, wherever this encounter led, she wanted to reach the destination.

  “You’ll like this place,” he told her as they approached the restaurant several blocks away. “The food’s good and the view’s fantastic.”

  Right now, Raine figured she could eat dirt or grass and it would taste delicious. He ordered a hero sandwich, and she followed his lead. While waiting for their order, they shared conversation and she marveled it wasn’t strained or awkward at all. Once their sandwiches were delivered, she noticed he bowed his head as if he asked a silent blessing. For the first time, Raine noticed he wore a shield-shaped St. Michael medal around his neck.

  Her first bite of the sandwich was delicious, so she took her time eating and listened to Cal.

  “So you’re a teacher,” he said. “And you go all over the city?”

  “Yes, pretty much. I’ve never been out to Staten Island, but I go to all the other boroughs.”

  He lifted one eyebrow. “You go to the Bronx much?”

  “Twice a week,” she answered. “Why?”

  A line appeared down the middle of his forehead “I work outta the Forty-Eighth precinct there. It can be a rough place. You gotta be careful there, Raine.”

  “I am,” she said.

  Cal’s skeptical expression didn’t fade. “I hope so. I’m gonna get you some Mace or something to carry. You don’t go there at night, do you?”

  “I haven’t, no.”

  “Don’t.” He blew out air between his lips, then frowned again. “You don’t live there, do you?”

  “Oh no, of course not. I live in a walk-up apartment on Essex Street.”

  His eyes widened. “On the Lower East Side?”

  “Yes. Is that good or bad?”

  He chuckled. “Both, I guess. It depends. I was born and raised until I was fourteen in that area so I’m familiar. Parts of the neighborhood are fine, some aren’t.”

  It’s a small world, after all, she thought, and the words of the Disney tune floated through her head with annoying clarity. “Where did you live?”

  Callahan cocked his head to one side and sighed. “I grew up in the Jacob Riis housing on the east side of Avenue D,” he said. “You know.”

  Actually, she didn’t. “No, I guess I don’t.”

  He laughed but it lacked humor. “You must’ve seen all the big brown apartment houses in that area, all alike towering over the street? They’re the housing projects for poor people. Jacob Riis is one of the oldest, dating back to the 1940s, but they all look alike and they’re all traditionally rough places. It’s on the edge of Alphabet City.”

  “I’ve heard of that,” Raine said. Callahan sounded unhappy. If he thought she would judge him for growing up low income, he couldn’t be more wrong. “I just thought they were traditional apartments, though. Where did you move when you were fourteen?”

  His jaw tightened and his expression darkened. “I didn’t have much family by then,” he said. “My mother died a couple of years after her sister, and that ended what happy home life we had, which wasn’t much. My dad was killed in the line of duty—he was a firefighter—when I was six, so my brothers and I went to live with Gran in Brooklyn after our mom passed.”

  I upset him by asking, Raine thought and ached to take away his pain. His old grief remained, and she didn’t know if there would be anything she could offer to temper it. She tried distraction instead. “How many brothers do you have?” she asked.

  Cal’s dark eyes hardened and he glared at her. “What does it matter? Shut up about me already. How’s your sandwich?”

  Until then, it had tasted great, but she swallowed a bite and almost choked. The impact of his harsh words was almost as shocking as if he’d slapped her.

  “Fine,” she said. Somehow she’d managed to piss him off, and the day, so filled with promise moments earlier, changed. Raine took a sip of water to wash down the food, then picked up her napkin. She blotted her lips, then laid the napkin over the remaining half of her sandwich. “I’m finished, though. Thank you for the outing.”

  With more force than she intended, she shoved back her chair and stood. Raine reached for her purse and slung it across her chest, bandolier fashion, and headed for the exit. As she walked, she kept her head high. She thought she heard a muffled curse from the table, but she didn’t look back. Outside, she paused to get her bearings and tried to remember how to get back to the South Ferry station. If she could get there, she could get the right train home, and then she could forget about Callahan. She had a couple of books she’d been wanting to read, and she could pick up Chinese or something on the way to her apartment. Or maybe she could pick up something to cook at the market.

  Raine marched away from the café with feigned confidence. Ten feet into her stride, she tripped and almost fell. A pair of strong arms caught her and hauled her to her feet. “Raine, don’t run off,” Callahan said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be such an asshole.”

  “You were,” she snapped. Her hurt feelings spawned anger, but she found it hard to stay mad with his arms locked around her.

  “Yeah, I know. It’s just…well, I’ve got a lot of shit to deal with, and I took it out on the wrong person. It’s me, not you, doll. And like I said, I’m sorry. You’re the last person I want to hurt, and I don’t want to ruin our day. It’s the best I’ve had in a long time. Won’t you forgive me?”

  Should she? Several bad experiences with past relationships made Raine hesitate, but her instincts ov
erruled. His mournful expression tugged hard on her heartstrings. “Oh God, Callahan, I already do. But won’t you tell me what’s bothering you?”

  He cupped one hand under her chin and met her gaze. “Someday, sweetheart, I will, but not today. Can we forget I hollered at you and go ride the ferry again? We can go back to the café if you’re still hungry, although I threw down a twenty-dollar bill to cover the check. Or if you’re hungry, we can grab something at the terminal.”

  “We can get something before we board,” she said and smiled because she couldn’t resist his charm or the incredible attraction she felt toward this man.

  Callahan grinned and heaved a sigh. “Good,” he said. “I was afraid maybe I’d lost you already. You’re something, you know that?”

  His words pleased her, but before she could summon a reply, he bent closer and kissed her without giving her a chance to realize his intention. Cal’s lips grazed hers, light and warm as a summer breeze. A delicious electricity rippled through her body at contact, and she moved to make the kiss last longer. He groaned as his mouth latched onto hers, firm and hard. Callahan kissed her long and hard. Raine’s awareness of his heat and the way his lips delivered a lingering caress made her almost giddy, and when he pulled back, her hands clutched tight to his shirtsleeves. She’d been kissed before, but no first kiss had ever affected her with such intensity.

  His wide smile filled her with delight, so she shelved the incident. They held hands on the way back to the terminal and the conversation picked up almost where it went awry without a hitch. Raine wondered, though, what demons haunted him or what skeletons might lurk in his inner closet.

  “So you work out of the Forty-Eighth precinct in the Bronx?” she asked as they entered the building. “Do you live nearby?”

  “Hell no,” Callahan replied with feeling. “I’ve got a place in midtown Manhattan, pretty nice place, and it’s cheap ‘cause the Garment District isn’t trendy yet. I like to keep work and my home life, such as it is, separate. I haven’t had a Saturday off in a while, since July maybe, and I just worked ten days straight. Normally I work five days, two off, then another five and three off, but sometimes it doesn’t work out. My days off rotate or are supposed to, but that doesn’t always work either.”

  “And I thought I had it bad, working five days a week,” Raine said. “Do you always work so many hours?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. I’d like to make homicide detective one of these days so I do my best to impress, and I got nothing else to do most times. Besides, since I’m single, I pick up a lot of shifts for the guys with families. If they need time off with a sick kid or for a family event, a birthday or something, or to go to a funeral, I’m the guy they know will work for them. Most of the time, I haven’t had anything better to do anyway. Beats staring at the four walls, you know?”

  Raine did and didn’t. Her tiny place was her haven, her safe place from the rest of the world, and she savored time spent there. But she understood, too, that after so many solitary hours, the apartment often began to feel like confinement. “Yes. So I guess you don’t get many weekends off then?”

  “Nope,” he said. “I got tomorrow, though, and I need the time to relax.”

  A sigh escaped her lips. Figures, she thought, he’ll want to do your typical guy stuff, watch sports on television, go to the gym, or shoot pool or something. Her Sunday would consist of church, if she cared to go, catching up her laundry, and maybe cooking. Most of the time, she grabbed takeout or heated something in the microwave, but on Sundays, despite her lack of cooking space, she sometimes made a home-cooked meal.

  As they moved through the crowds entering the ferry terminal, she noticed the dark shadows beneath his eyes. “You look so tired,” she said.

  Cal turned toward her with a small smile. “I am,” he said. “I don’t sleep much.”

  “If you’d rather go home and take a nap, I understand.” She would, but she’d be disappointed, too.

  He shook his head. “Naw, I was already coming down here when I met you. Let’s go ride the ferry across one more time, then we’ll figure out what to do. You want something else to eat?”

  “No, thanks, not unless you do,” she replied.

  “I’m good. I’ll take you out for a nice dinner later then, to make up for lunch,” Cal said. “Whaddya like? Italian? Asian? Seafood?”

  “How about a home-cooked meal instead?”

  They had reached the upper level of the terminal as she spoke. Callahan guided her to the right, away from the crowds. “Wait a minute. I gotta be sure I heard this right,” he said. His lips curved into a wide smile. “Did you just offer to cook for me?”

  Raine nodded. “I did.”

  “I’m impressed. That’s a new one for me. Most of the women I’ve ever been around wanted me to take them out, see a show, have a meal, but my pockets aren’t that deep to do it very often. I like the idea, Raine, a lot. Can you cook?”

  “I know my way around a kitchen, yes.”

  “Then, hell yeah, sure, I’d love it! It’s a date.”

  “Absolutely!”

  Cal tightened his hold on her hand. “C’mon, doll, then let’s ride the ferry out and back, then we’ll do some grocery shopping. How are you fixed for a kitchen at your place?”

  “It’s basic—two burners, a microwave, and a mini-fridge,” she said. Raine made a quick mental assessment of her pots and pans, then inventoried the seasonings she kept on hand. “I don’t have a table, but we can make do with chairs.”

  “Or we can go to my place,” he said. “I’ve got a four burner apartment-sized gas stove with an oven, full-size refrigerator, and plenty of room. The kitchen’s the bigger of the two rooms. We can stop at the supermarket on Eighth Avenue.”

  Raine opened her mouth to protest, then reconsidered. She struggled to keep her small studio from being cluttered, and she didn’t want to make a bad impression. “All right,” she said. “After the ferry ride back, we’ll go to the store.”

  This time, the Staten Island Ferry felt like an old friend. Earlier, she’d been caught up in every detail of the boat and the unfamiliar experience of riding a huge boat across New York Harbor. Now Raine leaned against the rail, supported by Callahan’s rock-hard arm, and gawked. She pulled out her cell phone to snap photos of the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island, a sailboat moving across the water with grace, and a shot of the Manhattan skyline behind. She chattered without any shyness as the attraction between them increased. It shifted into something else, too—the beginnings of a friendship and maybe more. The unpleasant moments at lunch had somehow brought them closer instead of destroying whatever beginning they were making together.

  The wind shifted and the temperature dropped on the return journey. The sun faded behind a bank of clouds, and by the time they reached the Whitehall terminal again, the day had turned cloudy. Raine shivered, wishing she’d brought along a sweater to wear over her long-sleeved blouse. Callahan cradled her closer. “Are you cold?”

  She nodded. “Yes, a little bit. Aren’t you?”

  He laughed. “Naw, I’m used to being out in all weather. Winters are cold in New York, this is nothing.”

  At the terminal, he insisted on buying her a lightweight jacket from one of the shops and trimming the tags from it with a pocket knife on his key chain. “There,” he said. “Better?”

  Raine snuggled into it, appreciating the soft sweatshirt material. “Yes, thank you.”

  Her hair had become mussed, so she pulled out a brush and ponytail band from her purse. “Let me go fix my hair,” she said.

  In the ladies room, Raine almost laughed at her windblown hair. I look happy, though, she thought as she tamed her tresses into a simple ‘do. When she emerged to find Callahan waiting for her, trying to look nonchalant and failing, her heart did a triple flip. She walked forward to meet him and he surprised her with a quick kiss. She glanced up at him and he grinned.

  “I missed you, doll,” he said.

  She re
sted her head against his shoulder for a moment, savoring the solid feel of his body, and inhaling his man-scent with pleasure. “Let’s go home,” she said.

  And they did.

  Chapter Three

  By the time they crossed the plaza from the Staten Island Ferry to the subway entrance, a light rain had begun to fall. Callahan did his best to shield Raine and tugged the hood of her new jacket over her hair as she protested, laughing. They had to wait a few minutes for a train, and the cars were full due to both the weather and the time. Late Saturday afternoon was a popular time to travel. If he’d been alone, he probably would have griped with silent exasperation, but with Raine at his side, the mundane had become an adventure.

  With standing room only for the first few stops, Cal held onto a strap and let Raine clutch the pole. By the time they reached Thirty-Fourth Street Station, closest to his walk-up apartment, the crowds had thinned enough to give them seats. The rain had slacked to a fine mist by the time they reached street level, but dark skies loomed overhead. “How far is it to your apartment?”

  “Five blocks,” Cal said. “But if you’re cooking, we need to go to the market first.”

  “So let’s go.”

  At the supermarket, they dashed through the aisles, gathering the makings for a home-cooked dinner. As they entered, she asked, “What would you like?”

  “Give me cook’s choice,” he replied with a grin. “I’ll eat whatever you fix, and I’ll like it.”

  Raine considered his request. “Okay, but don’t wait by the checkouts so it’ll be a surprise.”

  Cal cocked his head, then shook it. “Naw, I’m staying with you.”

  Exasperated but pleased, too, she nodded. “Suit yourself.”

  He enjoyed watching her shop and loved the changing expressions on her face as she made her choices. She selected a nice cut of tenderized round steak, bought a small bag of golden potatoes, a large white onion, fresh mushrooms, baby carrots, and some carefully chosen seasonings. Raine added a tub of butter, a small bag of flour, and a carton of brownie mix. She also bought a package of tea bags and a canister of sugar.