by J. R. Rain
“Why is your dress on the doorknob?”
She blinks at me like I asked a dumb question. “So it don’t get any poop on it.”
I glance at Tammy’s room where the boys continue their marker duel. “Why is your brother naked?”
Ellie Mae shrugs. “I dunno. He get in trouble if he got marker on his clothes.”
Ahh, the joys of children.
“Go wash your hands and get dressed.”
Ellie Mae scrambles off to the bathroom while I stoop to collect the diaper, groaning from the flare up in my side. The mess is abnormally aromatic today, making my eyes water. What the hell has Danny been feeding him? The boys, giggling their heads off, run back in.
“Stop that.” I grab the markers and re-cap them. Since they’ve already gotten undressed, I take them by the hand to the bathroom. Ellie Mae darts by, her hands dripping wet, and scurries into Anthony’s room while Ruby Grace continues to frolic in the mountain of plushies.
“Sam?” asks Mary Lou from the living room end of the hall. “What happened?”
If I wasn’t nursing a bruised rib, I’d have held her son up by one arm like a caught fish. Instead, I merely maneuver him so she can get a good look at the marker scrawls. “Zorro lost.”
“Oh, I’m sorry… I fell asleep and―”
“Stop apologizing,” I say. “You’re overextending yourself.”
Mary Lou runs over and takes the boys’ hands. “I got it. Go lie down, you’re still hurt.”
Ellie Mae, back in her dress, steps out into the hall, faces her mother, and beams. “I changed Anthony! He made a pock lips.”
My look of stunned confusion gets my sister laughing.
“Ricky calls a loaded diaper ‘an apocalypse.’” She tugs the boys into the bathroom. “Come on, you two. Bath time.” Halfway in the door, she peers back at me. “Sam, are these water soluble?”
I hold them up in a fist, grinning. “The boy’s two. Everything is water soluble.”
Ellie Mae follows me back to the living room to watch TV.
“Sorry for waking Aunt Marlou up,” says Tammy. “You need to be not moving so you get not hurt faster.”
I ruffle her hair. “Thank you.”
The rest of the day passes in relative calm. At least as calm as can be expected with five children aged six and younger around. Ricky, my sister’s husband, arrives at 5:45 p.m., dying to hear about my ‘shootout.’ Tammy stares up at me wide-eyed. I hadn’t told her how I got hurt. Ugh. Her gaze turns pleading.
“Yeah.” I pull her into a hug. “A bad guy shot at me, but I had a vest on.”
She clings.
Ricky cringes. “Oops.”
I sigh. “It’s all right. She was going to find out sooner or later.”
Mary Lou starts cooking, baked chicken and mashed potatoes from the smell of it, and soon after Danny gets home at six, we all collect around the table. Danny and Ricky kibitz about work, mostly about how Ricky is considering starting up his own electrician business instead of working for a company, and wants Danny’s opinion since he’s gone independent already.
“Cai have more a’tatoes?” asks Billy Joe.
Anthony grabs a handful off his plate and throws it at him before I can react, nailing the boy square in the face. Billy Joe appears not to mind this, and scoops the splatter into his mouth. Mary Lou jumps up to wipe him down while Danny whisper-scolds Anthony.
Despite the dull ache in my side, I couldn’t be happier, surrounded by family. This is going to be one of those memories that will stick with me forever. A few snapped photos from my cell phone won’t hurt either, right? I snap Anthony, his face covered by little bits of mashed potatoes and gravy making goofy faces across the table at Ruby Grace. Next photo is Ellie Mae trying her best not to get any food on her pretty little dress. I get one of Tammy, a look of stern concentration shoving her eyebrows together as she tries to figure out how the whole using a fork thing works. A few more snaps capture Ricky and Danny laughing and Mary Lou looking exhausted but fulfilled.
The guys graciously clean up after the meal. We hang out for a bit after, but it’s not long before Mary Lou gives Rick the ‘it’s time’ glance. I grunt and push myself up to stand, which causes Danny to run over and try to get me to sit back down.
“I’m okay. It’s getting better.” I kiss him before drifting over to the door as Mary Lou is matching shoes to children. “Hey. Thank you so much for all this help. Soon as I’m back to a hundred percent, I’m going to take a week off work and watch your three.”
“Oh, it’s all right. You just did take a week off work.” Mary Lou gingerly hugs me. “I should’ve become a teacher or something. Watching kids is fun for me.”
Rick picks Ruby Grace up and sets her standing in her itty-bitty sneakers. “You look exhausted, hon,” he says to Mary Lou. “Maybe you should listen to your sister. We haven’t been away for a long time, just us.”
“Well, I’ll think about it. Don’t want Sam getting in trouble. She hasn’t been at her job that long.” Mary Lou hugs Danny, counts kids, and heads out with a, “See you tomorrow.”
I push the door closed and lean my forehead against it. I hate needing to be taken care of like this. My sister did plenty of that when we were kids. I’m the strong-willed one. There’s no reason I need to stay out of work another week. It’s not fair to her. Plus, I got bad guys to catch.
“Sam?” Danny walks up behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
I turn away from the door and cling to him. “Just feeling like a burden. I think I’m going to go in Monday.”
“You’re not a burden.” Danny kisses me. “Though, you know I’ve been wondering if I could talk you into doing something less dangerous.”
“I’m fine, Danny. Ninety-nine days out of a hundred, I stare at paperwork.”
He gazes into my eyes, pain and worry etched in new lines on his face. “Yeah, but all it takes is one day… one moment.”
I look down.
After an awkward silence, Danny sighs. “I’m not going to force you to make any decisions. This is just me being worried to death.”
He pulls me close, holding me for a few minutes in silence. Being a federal agent is something I busted my ass for, and giving it up over some punk drug runner isn’t gonna happen. It’ll take a lot worse than a bruised rib to make me walk away from everything I put into getting this job. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t keenly aware of the risk, more so than ever. Tammy’s reaction almost did it. If that kid ever asks me to ‘stop getting shot at’ or something like that, I very well might cave in. Last week was an anomaly. The odds are in my favor as a federal agent, especially with HUD. Beat cops have it far worse. Maybe in a couple years, I can transfer to the FBI and investigate corporate fraud or something along those lines. I’m not gung-ho like Bryce. I’ll be happy as long as I’m still a federal agent.
“I’m really lucky to have you, Danny Moon.” I lean up and kiss him deeply on the lips.
He runs his hands down my back and squeezes my ass. I moan into his mouth. My side’s tender, but I’m willing to put up with a little soreness for this. We’ve both been so busy lately, it’s been almost a month since we had sex.
Anthony’s shout of, “Daddy! I potty!” pours a bucket of ice water over the mood.
We crack up laughing into each other’s shoulders.
Soon, our son runs in wearing only a shirt, grinning from ear to ear. “I did it!”
He leads us back to the bathroom to show off the little potty chair with most of the pee in its basin. Most. There are dribbles on the wall, the side of the sink, and the floor as well.
“Very good!” Danny scoops him up and swings him around. When he faces me again, he mouths, “I’ll clean it” without lending it voice, and carries the boy off to bed.
I collect Tammy and tuck her in. After goodnight kisses, Danny and I sneak back to the living room and wind up on the couch together.
“Feels like I’m in
high school worried my dad’s going to walk in and catch us,” says Danny.
“Hah,” I laugh. “Mine would’ve kept on walking like nothing was going on.”
Danny threads his arm around behind me and carefully pulls me closer. “Seriously? He wouldn’t have freaked out?”
“Depends on the year. Junior or senior, he probably wouldn’t have made a big deal out of it. Free love and all that. As long as the guy was close to my age.”
“Is two years older too much?” Danny eyes me up and down. “I’m having pretty impure thoughts right now.”
I bite my lip and trace a finger across his jawline. “That’s not much of a difference. He’d be more worried that you’re a lawyer. Tools of ‘the system,’ much like federal agents.”
Danny leans his head into mine. “Your parents are being foolish like mine.”
“They think you’ve sold your soul, too?”
He chuckles. “Hah. No… my soul’s staying right where it is, thank you very much. But they never fail to miss a chance to remind me how much it’s in danger for having married a woman who doesn’t go to church.”
“Ugh. Parents.”
“Parents.” He nods.
“I’m glad I have you, Danny. I have no need of judgmental people in my life.”
He puts a finger under my chin and lifts my head into a kiss. “There’s nothing in this world more important to me than you.”
“We’re not going to turn out like our parents, are we? Our kids breaking off contact and not wanting to see us?” Well, technically, Danny’s parents don’t mind seeing him. It’s me they don’t want around.
“No, we’re not.” He smiles. “You’re the most devoted mommy in the world. Our kids could turn out to both be serial killers and you’d still smother them with love.”
I roll into him, muffling my laughter against his chest. “That’s not even funny.”
“Sorry,” he says. “We both know Anthony’s a perfect angel, and Tammy’s her mother’s shadow. Your sister’s words, not mine. She also says our kids are a bit backwards.”
“Backwards how?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Something about daughters usually glomming onto their fathers and sons hanging onto their mother’s leg.”
I snuggle tighter to him. “They’re still small.”
Minutes later, the snuggling turns into something a little more than snuggling. My hand brushes against something rigid. “Oh, someone’s awake.”
Danny places a gentle hand over my injured side. “Maybe we shouldn’t? I don’t want to hurt you.”
Unable to help myself, I laugh. “It’s not that big.”
He stares at me.
I laugh some more. “Come on. I’m teasing.”
Danny scoops me up and lifts me into the air. “Not that big, eh?” he asks in a bad attempt at an old Dick Tracy voice. “Well, I’ll show you a thing or two!”
Trying not to giggle loud enough to wake the kids, I kick my feet and fake pound at his back as he carries me down the hall to our bedroom.
Chapter Seven
Trust
Friday, I’m up and able to do something I haven’t pulled off in ages: cook breakfast. Too much sitting around has left me an abundance of energy. We have a (relatively) quick family breakfast before Danny rushes off to work, nearly colliding with Mary Lou on the path to the driveway. Her two oldest zoom in the door and begin running in circles around the sofa. Tammy, cheering, pursues. Ruby Grace dangles, squirming from my sister’s arms until the front door closes, and toddles off into the frenzy once her mother puts her down.
Anthony slaps his high chair shelf and yells, “Go-be-down.”
“What are you doing?” Mary Lou hurries over and gawps at me.
“Cleaning up after breakfast, what’s it look like?” I grin.
“You’re…” She relaxes. “You look better.”
“Well my side’s still sore, but I’m so done with sitting on my ass all day.”
Mary Lou hugs me, still quite careful not to squeeze too hard. “Don’t overdo it.”
“I’m good. Going back to the office Monday.”
“So soon? But the doctor said three weeks!” Mary Lou glances up from wiping pancake syrup off Anthony’s chair.
“What can I say? I heal fast.”
Ellie Mae walks in. “Aunt Sam, can we watch cartoons?”
“Of course, sweetie.”
“Yay!” Ellie May zips off to the living room.
I duck in to turn the TV on and return to my sink of dishwater.
“I’m really glad to see you doing so well.” Mary Lou smiles and tosses a wad of paper towels in the trash, having made quick work of the syrupy mess.
My arms up to the elbows in hot suds, I say, “Chad called to check up on me last night. The suspect who shot me’s only sixteen.”
Mary Lou gasps. “Oh, that’s…”
“He’s not dead like I thought. Chad said he’s expected to make it, but they’re not sure if he’ll ever walk again.” I pick the egg pan out of the water and attack it with a sponge. “As soon as I realized I didn’t watch someone die, it felt like a huge weight fell off my shoulders.”
“Sam…” Mary Lou leans against the counter beside me. “He tried to kill you. I mean, it’s awful that he’s so young, but… these people have a different life.”
“These people?” I quirk an eyebrow at her. “You’re starting to sound like Dad.”
Mary Lou gazes at the ceiling, sighing. “Not that kind of ‘these people.’ I don’t mean it as a racial thing. How could I? You never even told me what he looked like. I mean these drug dealer gangs. They recruit them young and these poor kids don’t know any different. Trafficking and killing become a way of life.”
“I guess.” My mind drifts back to his expression in the instant before muzzle flash bloomed in front of his face. Panic. I don’t think he really wanted to do anything but get away. “Still. It’s a lot easier to sleep knowing I didn’t kill anyone.”
“Didn’t you say the sniper got him?” asks Mary Lou.
“Seemed like it at the time. This heavy boom went off somewhere behind me and the kid spins around and drops.”
“Aww.” Mary Lou gives me a quick hug before moving to wipe down the table. She glances back at me, opens her mouth, and looks down.
“What?” I ask.
“Oh, nothing. Just… I umm. Don’t want you to get hurt. If someone points a gun at you―”
“I did get hurt.” I set the pan in the drainer. “But I didn’t hesitate either. I’m just not a great shot with a carbine.”
“Mom! Wipies!” shouts Billy Joe from the bathroom.
We laugh.
“Wow that didn’t take long.” I wink at my sister. “You haven’t been here twenty minutes yet.”
Ellie Mae darts into the bathroom.
“No. I want Mommy!” yells Billy Joe. “Go ‘way!”
Mary Lou walks off to deal with her son while I finish off the kitchen and flop on the couch. Tammy crawls up to sit next to me again, grinning. I think she knows I’m feeling better, but she still wants to tuck under my arm.
I deal with some light housework and laundry, though Mary Lou insists on carrying the baskets for me still. It’s a nice day out, so we set the kids loose in the front yard for a while before lunch. Later, with them all (mostly) down for naptime, I flip on Judge Judy.
Mary Lou emerges from the hallway after coaxing Ruby Grace to sleep (that kid has an inhuman amount of energy) and arrives at the couch by way of the kitchen. She hands me a bottle of iced tea, opens hers, and takes a huge gulp. “This is good, but it’s missing something.”
“Bit early for vodka.”
“Blasphemy.” She chuckles, but her mirth melts away to a worried look.
She’s got our father’s longish nose, and when she’s moody, sad, or anxious, she turns into a (much) prettier version of him with long hair. I wouldn’t say Dad’s nose is too long, but I will say I’m glad I got Mom’s.
She barks a laugh like a startled hen. “Oh, that’s not fair. Okay fine.” She stares down at her lap. “I’m worried Ricky might be cheating on me.”
My attempt to take a sip of tea turns into a coughing fit. Oh, damn, that hurts. I lean back, holding my side and cringing.
“Sorry! Sorry!” she says, realizing what she’d done. “Never mind.”
I wag my finger at her. “No take-backs on something like that. You got some splainin’ ta do.”
“Your Ricky Ricardo is horrible.” Mary Lou rubs my shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Coughing is not a good thing for me yet. And thus far, my experiments to breathe tea have proven unsuccessful.” I fix her with a serious look. “Why on Earth do you think he’s cheating? Ricky?! I can’t believe it.”
“Well.” She stares at the label on her drink, twisting the bottle around and around in her hands.
Appropriately enough, Judge Judy is reaming out some idiot for taking his girlfriend’s car without permission and getting into a minor accident. Her rant began when he slipped and admitted he was on his way to his other girlfriend’s place at the time.
“Out with it, Mary Lou.”
She looks up at me. “He’s come home really late twice this week. Tuesday and Wednesday. Both times, he said the guys from work wanted to hang out. But… he’s been with Harris Electric for almost six years and he’s never ‘gone out with the guys’ before.”
“I have a hard time believing Ricky would do that to you. He doesn’t seem like that kind of man.”
“They never do.” She closes her eyes to hold back tears.
“Hey.” I grasp her hand. “Maybe he finally feels secure enough at the job to do something like that, or maybe one of the guys is retiring or getting married or quitting and they’re celebrating. Did you talk to him about it?”
She gasps. “No. What if I’m wrong and he really is going out with the boys? I don’t want to turn into that wife who flips out if her man doesn’t spend every waking second at her side. I’d sound paranoid.”
