Callahan's Fate

by Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

  She parted her lips to refuse, but something in his eyes changed her mind. It’s important to him so I will. “Okay,” she said. “I trust you, but stay close to me. And if I freak out, can we come back down immediately?”

  Cal’s face lit up. “You bet your ass we can. Put your jacket on, doll, and let’s go.”

  Hand in hand, he led her out of his place, down the corridor, and they rode the elevator to the top floor. They exited through a door onto the roof. Raine had expected something out of a 1940s movie, a barren space with a pigeon coop on one end and broken bricks underfoot. Although not large, the roof offered a smooth concrete floor, the walls Cal had mentioned on all sides, plus a couple of small patio tables with two chairs at each. The round water tower with a conical top found on most buildings took up some space. So did a couple of chimneys and the elevator shaft.

  He led her over to the side and used his free hand to wave at the nightscape. “Here’s my city at its’ finest,” he said. “Isn’t it pretty?”

  In every direction, skyscrapers and tall buildings sparkled with light. Illuminated window squares shone bright into the darkness. Many had closed shades or drapes, but others were open, offering a view into other people’s lives. One structure a few blocks away had a spire that changed colors, shifting from iridescent blue to a bright green, then to a softer red. Raine forgot her fear as she gaped with wonder at the city spread out around and below her. To the west, she saw a river. “Is it the Hudson?”

  “Yeah, you got it. And look, right there, it’s the Lincoln Tunnel,” Cal replied. He pointed with one finger. “Across the river, that’s Jersey, and if you look over here, you can see the sign for The New Yorker Hotel.”

  Above, a jet banked and dropped lower for landing. She followed its path, and he noticed.

  “Flight patterns for both JFK and LaGuardia pass overhead,” he told her. “And if you’ll notice, the moon is rising.”

  She spotted it, a huge orb shimmering with radiant light, and smiled. “Back home at this time of year, sometimes it can be almost orange,” she said. “Where are all the stars?”

  Cal laughed. “It’s hard to see them here because of all the city lights. You have to go out to sea or into the country to get a good view. I guess you can see them back home. Where are you from, again?”

  “Missouri,” she said.

  “Oh, yeah, St. Louis,” he cried. “That’s home to the St. Louis Cardinals and the Arch, right?”

  Since she came to New York, everyone said the same. Raine’s reaction combined exasperation with amusement. “I live about as far from St. Louis as possible,” she said. “I’ve been there, sure, but I grew up in the southwest corner of the state. I lived at Springfield before I came here, but I grew up in a small town where yes, you can see the stars. They fill the sky at night like thousands of diamonds and sparkle.”

  “That sounds pretty.”

  “It is.” A rush of homesickness struck her with force. Raine longed for the rain-clean air of home, the lingering scent of wood smoke, not traffic exhaust, on the wind. She wished for open skies, the stars, and trees reaching toward the heavens, not tall buildings. She missed the familiarity of the place where she’d grown up, as different from Manhattan as if she stood on Mars. Her breath caught in her chest, and to cover her angst, she leaned over to peer down at the street view. Despite the hour, vehicles filled the lanes, their taillights bright red streaks as traffic moved forward. The constant sound of horns blasted through the night, and everything below seemed so very small. A sense of vertigo swamped her, and a sudden dizzy turn made her head spin. She uttered a wordless cry and stepped back.

  “Hey, what’s the matter?” Callahan said. He put his free arm around her shoulder. “You okay, Raine?”

  If he hadn’t sounded worried, if his deep voice didn’t offer comfort, she would have been fine, but his concern lowered her defenses. “No,” she said. Raine turned toward him and buried her face against his shoulder. Then she cried, and Cal held her tight.

  All the tears she’d held back for so long erupted, and every sob she had swallowed down in the past few months broke loose. She wept hard, her body shaking, and vented all her loneliness with force. As she shed tears, he cradled her close. Callahan rubbed her back with one hand and talked her through it. At first she didn’t pay attention to what he said, but as her outburst began to ebb, his steady flow of words calmed her.

  “Hey, doll, don’t you worry. You ain’t alone anymore. You got me, you hear? And I’m not going anywhere. I know this city is a big place and it’s probably confusing as hell for you, but there’s a lot of good here, too. People look out for each other, at least some of them. You told me you hoped you made a difference with the kids you teach. Well, I bet you do, because you already made a difference with me, more than you know. Easy, easy does it. You cry it out. My grandma, she always said tears were good for the soul, and she’s right, God rest her soul.”

  As Raine’s sobs eased, he began to sing. His voice was a rich tenor, not the bass she had expected, and the lyrics of the song were beautiful, something about angels watching over and a refrain that repeated the words, “hear the wind blow.” It reminded her of “Down In The Valley,” a folk song her grandmother had sung to her, but the words were much lovelier. Listening, she calmed, and when he finished, Raine lifted her tear-stained face to him. “That was awesome,” she said. “What’s the name of the song?”

  His lips curved into a small smile. “Ah, it’s ‘The Connemara Cradle Song,’ an old lullaby from Ireland, something else my Gran gave me. It always soothed me, and I thought it might help.”

  She touched his face with gentle fingers. “It did, a lot. You’re full of surprises, Callahan.”

  He snorted. “I try, anyway. What happened? Did you get scared of being up high?”

  Raine shrugged. “I looked down, and yes, I was a little frightened, but mostly I just had a homesick moment.”

  Cal used one finger to gently wipe the tears from her cheeks, then delivered a light kiss to her mouth. “Are you okay now?”

  To her surprise, she realized she was. A brisk wind blew across the roof, and she shivered. “Yes, but I’m cold. I bet it frosts tonight.”

  “Maybe in Central Park,” Callahan said. Then he laughed and hugged her. “I know the frost is on the pumpkin and all that back where you come from, but here frost doesn’t do much except ice a few windshields. Do you like the view?”

  Her eyes scanned the broad vista, and she nodded. “I do, Callahan. It’s like Christmas or New Year’s or something special.”

  “Aw, you’ll get used to it,” he said. The way he ducked his head made her think maybe all the emotion had embarrassed him. “Let’s go inside before we freeze and drink some wine before I start singing again. Some stray cat might start yowling or something.”

  “I doubt it,” Raine told him. “Some of those angels you sang about might join in, but no cats.”

  Although he shook his head, she caught his smile. He liked the compliment, no matter what he might say to the contrary. “I doubt I’ll be asked to sing at Madison Square Garden or at the Met anytime soon. C’mon, doll, let’s go in.”

  ****

  After the chilly interlude on the roof, she savored the warmth of his apartment. While he opened the wine and produced two dusty glasses, which she insisted he rinse, Raine chose a movie from his small selection. His tastes seemed to run toward action and adventure movies—no real surprise—so she chose one of the Wolverine movies with Hugh Jackman. They settled down together on his couch and she slipped out of her shoes so she could tuck her feet under. Cal handed her a glass of wine and they touched the rims. “Slainte!” he said.

  Slawn-cha? Raine had no idea what it meant, but she did her best to repeat it. After her first sip of the sweet, full-bodied wine, she asked. “So what’s that mean?”

  Callahan met her gaze. “Good health, in Irish,” he said. “It’s Gaelic, or whatever you want to call it.”

  T
hey drank wine and cuddled, as they watched the fast-paced movie. About thirty minutes into it, she cuddled closer and shivered. He put his arm around her shoulder. “Are you cold?”

  “A little,” she said.

  “No problem,” he said. “I can fix that. I got steam heat. It runs hotter than the devil’s backyard.”

  He put the movie on pause and tinkered with the radiator until Raine heard it begin to hiss. Warmth soon emanated from it, and she relaxed against him. After the second glass of wine, a delicious calm descended over her as she relaxed. Her taut muscles eased, and her bones all but melted. Her languor turned to drowsiness, and she thought she’d begun dozing when his cell phone rang with loud, shrill insistence.

  Raine recognized the opening notes of Billy Joel’s “We Didn’t Start The Fire,” as she stirred. Callahan pulled the device from his pocket. “Yeah, whaddya want?”

  Although she couldn’t make out the words, she heard a definite masculine rumble. Cal laughed. “Yeah, I’m alive, asshole. You can play poker without me this week. I’m busy.”

  He listened, then repeated. “Like I said, I’m busy. You firefighters can fleece some other cop this time. I ain’t coming.”

  This time, she made out what the caller said, his voice choked with laughter. “Yeah, what’s her name?”

  Cal glanced at her, eyebrows raised in unspoken question. She nodded and he said, “Raine. Good-bye and good riddance.”

  He shut off the phone and tossed it on the dresser. “Sorry about that, doll.”

  “Sounds like you had plans.”

  “Naw, it’s just the guys at the firehouse down the block. They always play poker unless they get called out on an alarm on Saturday night. Sometimes I join in, sometimes not. I’d rather be here with you.”

  His simple statement made her glad, but a stray glance at the digital time on the DVD player shattered the mood they’d created. Feeling like Cinderella minutes before the clock chimed twelve, Raine wanted to cry, because the evening was pretty much over. “It’s late,” she said. “I should go home. It’s going to take awhile to get there anyway, and longer if I get lost.”

  “You won’t,” he said. “I’ll take you.”

  “All the way to the Lower East Side?” she asked. “It’s a long way on the subway.”

  “The subway’s not the best place to be at night, not for you,” Cal said.

  Raine frowned. “Is it dangerous?”

  Callahan shrugged. “It can be, most of the time it’s not. You’re not familiar, though, and I wouldn’t want you lost at night at the Fulton Street Station or anywhere else.”

  His pompous manner irritated her a little. “I could manage,” she said.

  He offered her a hand and pulled her to a standing position. “I know,” he replied. “But I care about you, baby, and I don’t want you to take chances. I’d worry for you if I knew you were going home on the subway this time of night. I’ll go with you, or we’ll take the bus or even a cab.”

  She savored the fact he cared, and although his old-school approach could be a little much, Raine admitted she liked it, too. Deep down, some feminine part of her psyche craved his protection. “Taxis are expensive.”

  “You’re worth it, doll.” His deep, dark eyes met hers with a steady gaze. He means it, she thought with mingled wonder and excitement. Wow.

  “I don’t know about that,” Raine said. “But thanks. Let me get my blouse, and then we can figure out how we’ll go.”

  “Or you could stay.” Cal leaned down and cherished her mouth with his. He ran one hand down her body, slow and gentle, but it lit the fires within. Her heart beat faster, and a feverish heat radiated from her crotch. Raine’s nipples hardened as he kissed deep, using his tongue with amazing effect.

  It would be so easy, she thought, and I want to stay. I want to make love with him and wake up in his bed, but it’s too soon. I just met him today.

  With effort, she pulled back. To take the sting out of her words, she stroked his cheek with one finger. “I want to, Callahan, but it’s happening too quick, so not tonight, not yet.”

  His eyes darkened with emotion, but he smiled a little. “Yeah, you’re right, it’s too soon. I haven’t even known you twenty-four hours yet. It won’t be a quick bop between the sheets when we do, doll, but something special. Okay?”

  Raine nodded. “Okay, I’m glad you understand.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Get changed and let’s go before I change my mind.”

  For a moment, she wished he would, then the moment passed. She exchanged his shirt for hers, put on the new jacket, and slung her purse over one shoulder. Together, they headed out into the night, down onto the subway, and a few steps closer to the future, whatever it might hold.

  Chapter Five

  After he returned from seeing Raine home, her scent lingered in his apartment. Callahan could smell it on the couch, in his pillows, and he swore he could smell it in the air, too. When he picked up his shirt, it had her fragrance, too. He didn’t need it to evoke her, though. She filled his consciousness in every way possible, and parting at the door to her building had been difficult. He left her with another kiss and a promise to call.

  On the subway ride, they had exchanged phone numbers and sat together among the few late-night riders. Cal thought some of them had intimidated her with oddness, and in a few cases, their complete freakiness, but he gave them his “hard cop” stare and they didn’t give Raine another glance.

  He sprawled on the couch, tired but not at all sleepy. He’d slept more while she cooked than he had in a straight stretch for a long time. If he dozed off now, he would probably dream, and he didn’t want to face any nightmares. But if he could be certain he might dream of Raine instead, he’d try to grab a few winks.

  God, but the woman had him smitten. Cal laughed at the old-fashioned word he’d summoned up. Call it whatever, but he’d never felt this way about any gal. He replayed the day in slow motion, delighting in remembering the best moments. Tomorrow loomed ahead empty. He could shine his shoes, do his laundry, and watch a football game. When he got hungry, he could send out for some Chinese takeout or a pizza. Sounds lonely, he thought. Guess I could go over to Jersey and visit Shay, take the kids something. His stomach lurched at the idea, though, of spending time with his brother’s widow and playing the favorite uncle with the boys. He should’ve asked Raine if she wanted to do something. Now he didn’t know when he might see her again, but probably not until next weekend, if then.

  Callahan heaved a sigh. With his rolling schedule, he worked the next six shifts, then would be off Sunday and Monday. He picked up the open wine bottle and drained the remainder in a single gulp. On impulse, he grabbed his phone and dialed Raine. She answered after one ring, her voice clear and not sleepy, but still he asked, “Did I wake you?”

  “No,” she said. “I was reading.”

  “You wanna go to Coney Island tomorrow?”

  “Is it open? I mean, it’s October.”

  “Yeah, sure, it’s always open. There might not be much shakin’, but the ocean’s there and we can eat a hot dog at Nathan’s. They haven’t closed in like a hundred years except during Hurricane Sandy. Whaddya say?”

  His heart stumbled over a series of uneven beats as he waited.

  “Yes, sure, I’d love to go to Coney Island.”

  He let out the breath he’d been holding. “Okay, great. Meet me at the Essex Street Station, all right?”

  “Okay. What time?”

  “Is nine too early?”

  Raine laughed, and he delighted in the merry sound. “No, it’s perfect. Hey,Callahan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m glad you called. Good night.”

  Joy spread wings within. “Good night, doll. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  After he ended the call, Callahan sat still and let his emotions rush through him, swift as a river. The taste of happiness lingered, and to his surprise, he slept and did not dream.

  ****
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br />   Cal woke early, showered, and grabbed a quick breakfast downstairs. The strong coffee tasted like last night’s last pot, but he drank it anyway. The two donuts were fresh, and once finished, he set out for Raine’s neighborhood with a light heart and quick step. Going to Coney Island brought back some of the best memories of his childhood, and en route, he recalled some of the golden moments. For once, he could think about his mom, Aunt Birdie, and his brothers, Anthony and Aidan, without anguish or grief. Callahan almost laughed aloud remembering the long afternoons on the beach, splashing in the ocean, trying to ride the waves, and falling asleep listening to the sound of the incoming surf. He savored the taste of a Nathan’s hot dog and the glittering lights of the amusements at dark.

  At the Essex Street Station, he left the train and emerged to wait for Raine. Since he had arrived early, he thought about walking toward her apartment, but Cal decided to give her a chance to show.. Ten minutes later, he spied Raine walking down the sidewalk. She wore a bright red cable-knit sweater over black jeans and boots. A matching tam perched atop her long hair, tamed back into a long braid. He liked the way her face brightened when she saw him, and he moved forward to greet her with a quick kiss. Their hands touched and linked. “Good morning, doll,” he said.

  “Hi, Callahan,” she replied. “It’s brisk out this morning.”

  “Yeah, teach, it is,” he answered with a wide grin. “Ready to go to Coney Island?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then let’s go!”

  He wanted her to have the best possible experience, and since he preferred the Q train when heading to Brooklyn or the beach, they rode the subway to several stations until they were en route to the famed amusement park. “So, you ever been before?” he asked as the train rattled across the East River Bridge into Brooklyn.

  “No, and I’ve wanted to see it. I’ve always heard about it. Is it as wonderful as I’ve heard?”