by Rula Sinara
“Hi, Jim.”
“Hmmph.” The single syllable sounded more like a sigh than a greeting, and the middle-aged man didn’t even glance away from the screen of his cell phone, suggesting he’d rather be almost anywhere but here.
His disinterest was fine with her. Emily flipped open her laptop and turned it on. She had plenty on her mind. She had also already drafted an outline for this story, including a nice little send-off for Gordon Fenwick.
More than once she had to stifle a yawn. As soon as this was over, she would go back to the office and do a smattering of research on the newly appointed chief, draft the article for the Gazette, and then head upstairs to her apartment for a nap. In spite of having a good night’s sleep, she was uncharacteristically tired. Maybe it was the huge lunch she’d devoured.
She dug her digital camera out of her bag, checked the settings and placed it on the table next to her laptop. She would take some candid photos during the introductions and the formal handover from the old chief to the new one, and then shoot several staged photographs afterward. Since the mayor was also the Gazette’s editor-in-chief, he would want final approval on which image would appear on the front page of the newspaper, but she could share some of the others on her blog. She already planned to do a post on the new chief and another on a tribute to Chief Fenwick. He had been with the Riverton police department for as long as Emily could remember. She knew his wife, and she had gone to school with their children, so it seemed fitting to make something of his retirement.
Over the next several minutes, the chamber gradually filled with town councilors, a handful of off-duty police officers and the Fenwick family. To Emily’s surprise, and somewhat to her dismay, Walt and Norma Evans—Jack’s parents!—walked in and joined Gordon Fenwick’s wife in the front row. The two families lived across the street from one another, so she supposed it made sense they would be here.
Still, they were the last people Emily wanted to see right now, so she avoided eye contact by pretending to concentrate on the file open on her computer. She was beginning to wrap her head around the idea of having a baby, of having Jack in her life, one way or another, forever. The prospect of breaking the news to her father and his parents had her heart hammering.
Riverton was so small, and she was out and about so much that she saw a lot of people every day. Just last week she’d run into Norma at Henderson’s Hardware when she’d popped in to buy a bag of wood shavings for the bottom of Tadpole’s cage. Several days later, Walt had waved at her as she was pulling out of Gabe’s Gas ’n’ Go. Friendly encounters both times, the kind that indicated they suspected nothing about her and Jack.
Whatever she and Jack were, whatever they were going to become.
Her heart hammered harder. She lightly touched the tips of the fingers on her right hand to the pulse point on the inside of her left wrist.
Stay calm. This is not the time or place for a panic attack. Nor was it the time or place to be looking for answers about her future. She needed to stop posing the questions.
Right on schedule, the side door opened. Ken Bartlett stepped into the council chamber, followed by Chief Fenwick and...
Jack?
Every head in the place swiveled in her direction.
Oh, dear. Had she said his name out loud?
Her fingers fell away from her wrist, her pulse ratcheted up again, and her breath shuddered in and out of her lungs as she struggled for control. She steadied herself by white-knuckling the edge of the press table. Breathe...breathe...breathe. There. Better.
Jack’s presence behind the podium could only mean one thing. He was the mayor’s very well-kept secret. He was Riverton’s new police chief.
She had been all too aware of Ken Bartlett’s desire to conceal this information from his public. He loved nothing more than making the big reveal—her father called it grandstanding—but she didn’t care about that. She cared about Jack. Why hadn’t he told her? They had spent most of the past three weekends together. Last night he had joined her family for his second consecutive Sunday dinner and he hadn’t breathed a word, not even a hint. This meant he would be living in Riverton, which she knew was a huge sacrifice for him and which also meant she didn’t even have to consider a move to Chicago. Not that she had. Still, he should have told her rather than spring this on her.
Ken was at the podium now. She needed to focus, be professional, do her job, when the only thing she truly wanted to do was rush to the front of the council chambers and throw her arms around him.
Jack was Riverton’s new chief of police. He had to be. That was the only explanation for his being here. Was he really giving up a job he loved so he could be here for her and the baby? For the baby, for sure, and for now that was good enough, and far more than she had anticipated. He was watching her, the way he did when he was trying to gauge her reaction, and his secret smile, the one that seemed just for her, made her bones melt.
The mayor leaned into the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, it is my great pleasure to offer my deepest gratitude to my longtime friend, Police Chief Gordon Fenwick, and to thank him on your behalf for his many years of service to our fair town.” He paused, puffed up his chest and cast a slow, calculating glance around the room, ever the politician.
Ken was wearing one of the three decades-old suits—one navy, one brown, one gray—that he alternated for events like this one. By rotating the scant, outdated contents of his closet, he avoided being photographed in the same suit at successive events. Emily had always thought if he eventually followed through on his ambitious desire to run for state representative, someone would have to help the man update his wardrobe.
Chief Fenwick was all spit and polish in his official police uniform. Jack, who had yet to be sworn in and had therefore not been issued a Riverton PD uniform, was dressed in black dress pants and a blue crew neck that was a perfect match for his eyes. His leather jacket was a deep shade of espresso and had, she knew firsthand, the texture of butter. His hair had been trimmed to a respectable length, and no longer curled over his collar at the back, but there was a don’t-mess-with-me quality to the day’s growth of beard gracing his jawline. The intriguing dichotomy that was Jack Evans.
He was taller than the two men standing with him on the raised dais, and his shoulders were broader, making his presence more imposing than if he’d been up there alone. She could tell from the murmurs in the room that a person didn’t have to be in love with him to recognize his importance.
If the mayor was aware of this, he wasn’t letting on. “I also take great pleasure...great pleasure,” he repeated, puffing up his chest, “in extending a warm Riverton welcome to our new chief of police, former Chicago PD Detective Jack Evans.”
Former detective. This meant that not only had Jack been offered the position and accepted it, he had already resigned. The pieces were gradually falling into place. The chief of police appointment had been in the works for several weeks, at least since the last council meeting, and Jack hadn’t breathed a word about it to her. She might have been miffed if it weren’t for her sheer sense of giddiness over the sacrifice he was obviously making for her and the baby.
Somehow her fingers found the keyboard, and she transcribed what the men were saying, almost word for word, though none of it quite registered, not even as the words scrolled across the monitor in front of her.
After the mayor wrapped up the meeting, Emily was much more composed. It was photo time. She picked up her camera, glad she’d checked the light and exposures before being slammed with the unexpected news that Jack Evans was Riverton’s new chief of police.
The three men posed in front of the flags that stood behind the podium. For each photo, Jack’s smile softened his features and took the edge off the laser-sharp stare he’d been giving her since he had walked into the room. Click, click, click.
The former chief step
ped aside so she could take a formal shot of Jack sharing a hearty handshake with the mayor. Click.
The mayor decided she should also take one of Jack by himself—which felt ridiculously awkward, as though he was looking right through the camera and into her soul. Finally, she snapped a few shots of Jack with his parents.
Click, click, click.
“Riverton will be the safest town in Wisconsin, and if anyone can solve the mystery of the missing garden gnomes, my son can,” Norma Evans said to Emily. “Just you wait and see.”
Jack gave Emily a look that asked her to tread cautiously, but Emily simply nodded and gave his mother a weak smile. After the photo shoot, everyone mingled, gravitating to the refreshment table set up at the back of the room. Emily hastily scrolled through the images she had captured and, satisfied she had what she needed, packed up her camera and laptop with trembling hands and slung the bag over her shoulder. More than anything she wanted to talk to Jack tell him how grateful she was—now that she was over the shock—that he would make this kind of committment for their child. But not here, not now. She walked quickly toward the door, head down so no one would see the tears of relief in her eyes. Luckily, as far as everyone else knew, she was merely the reporter, and no one expected her to stay.
* * *
JACK MOVED THROUGH the room, shaking hands, accepting congratulations and making small talk while keeping Emily in his field of view. She was in a hurry to leave, judging by the way she was cramming things into her bag. He wished he could have told her about this ahead of time, but a combination of factors had prevented that.
He’d had to make this decision on his own, although talking to his friend, Paul, and his bureau chief had helped. Especially after he’d told them about the Emily and the baby. He already knew he was gaining much more than he was giving up.
To complicate things even further, the mayor, in his typical fashion, had wanted to make a big splash by keeping this top secret. If he had told Emily, he had a niggling suspicion she might let it slip to Fred, and then it would have spread through town like wildfire. That was not how he wanted to start his tenure as Riverton’s new police chief. Now Emily was leaving, and all he wanted was to rush out the door after her.
“Jack, I’m sure you know Reverend Frank Hammond and his wife, Alice,” the mayor said. “Frank’s been the minister at Grace Memorial for what, thirty years?”
“Thirty-two.” The reverend had a hearty handshake. “Welcome back to Riverton, son. Good to know we’ll have one of our own looking out for us.” The reverend had officiated at Eric’s funeral.
“It’s good to be home.”
Mrs. Hammond beamed at him. “The church is hosting the Hospital Auxiliary’s bazaar and rummage sale next Saturday,” she said. “We’d love to have you officially open the event for us.”
“I would be honored. I’ll check my schedule and let you know.” He did his best to be attentive while he watched Emily hoist her bag off the table and haul it onto her shoulder. She exchanged a few words with the reporter who’d sat next to her at the press table, then briskly walked toward the exit without so much as a backward glance.
“Very nice to see you both,” Jack said. “Could you excuse me? There’s someone I need to have a few words with.”
He tried to make a beeline for the door but instead ended up dodging several more well-wishers, including his mother.
“We’re so proud of you.” Norma Evans was literally beaming, and her pleasure made his heart swell.
“Thanks, Mom. Look, I need to—”
“About dinner tonight. I thought we would—”
“Can I call you?” He kissed her cheek. “There’s someone I need to speak to.”
“We usually eat at six,” she reminded him.
He acknowledged the time with a wave before he shoved through the exit door.
Usually? His mother had been serving dinner at six o’clock sharp since forever. He would have to stay with them until he found a place of his own or, better yet, a place with Emily. Which would have to be soon because checking in with his mother at mealtimes, letting her know if he had to work late... Yeah, that would get old real fast.
He stepped outside in time to see Emily pull out of the lot. He jumped in his Jeep and set off after her. She was headed in the direction of the Gazette, or possibly her apartment. Or was she planning to stop at the barbershop? He shoved back a tickle of annoyance that she would go to Fred to talk about this before she said anything to him. They were just friends, he reminded himself.
She parked in front of the newspaper office, and he pulled in beside her. She climbed out of her car, cell phone in hand and looked surprised to see him. She smiled, though, and in that instant, he knew everything was going to work out.
“Emily.”
She waved her phone at him. “I was just about to text you, ask you to meet me here when all the excitement died down.”
He stopped beside her on the sidewalk. “I thought maybe you were angry.”
She furrowed her forehead. “Why would I be angry? I was surprised, shocked. I didn’t understand why you didn’t tell me, but now that I’m getting used to the idea...I’m happy.”
“You are?”
She beamed at him like the cat that stole the cream. “I would never be happy in a place like Chicago, but I’ll always be happy here.”
He took her keys and opened the door to her apartment.
Inside, she let her bag slip to the floor, flung her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Congratulations, Chief Evans.”
And with her sweet, full lips on his, he knew he’d made the right decision.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE you did this,” Emily said, clinging to the lapels of his leather jacket, breathless from an impulsive kiss that had rapidly turned into several more very deliberate ones.
“It was the right thing to do,” Jack said, one hand still on her back, the other gently brushing her hair from her face. “For me, for the baby, for us.”
For us. She could stand here in his arms forever, but she had work to do. “We held up production of this week’s paper so this story could be on the front page.”
“How long will that take?”
“A few hours.”
His face fell. “My mother wants me home for a celebratory dinner. I thought you could join us.”
No way. “It’s too soon for that.”
“I guess you’re right. Maybe I could stay here and watch you write?”
She loved he could make her laugh this way. “Not a chance. Go, enjoy your evening with your family. I’ll let you know when I’m finished.”
He kissed her again, lightly. “Maybe we can get together for dessert.”
She opened the door and playfully pushed him outside. “Go, before I change my mind.”
Upstairs, she set her laptop on her desk, took out her camera and downloaded the photographs she’d shot at the press conference. She’d use one of the formal poses for her article in the Gazette. The one with Jack flanked by the mayor and the former police chief, she decided. She’d managed to get them positioned with the flags centered behind them, the Stars and Stripes and the blue state flag. The paper didn’t often run color, but Ken had already said he would make an exception for the front page of this edition. No surprise, she had thought at the time, given he would be in the photograph.
When the article was finished to her satisfaction, she logged in to her blog. As soon as the paper came out on Wednesday, she knew people would be checking her blog for a story about the new police chief, and she wanted this one to be more personal. She would write it now, while she was on a roll, and schedule it to go live as soon as Wednesday’s paper hit the stands.
No need for formality here, she decided. She scrolled through the photogr
aphs and stopped at a candid shot she had taken of Jack with his mother. The top of Norma’s head barely reached her son’s shoulder. She had stretched up to smooth his hair and ended up with her hands on his cheeks, her smile wide and her eyes lit with maternal pride. Emily opened the photograph in her editing program, cropped some of the distracting details from the edges and adjusted the color tones to counteract the effects of the council chamber’s harsh fluorescent lighting. Satisfied with the results, she saved the photograph to a folder on her desktop and opened a new blog post.
This entry would not be about Jack, she decided. For the title, she typed, A Mother’s Pride.
Dear Hearts,
It’s not every day that a mother has the honor of witnessing the community celebrate her son’s career achievement. For Norma Evans, Monday was one of those days. At an afternoon press conference, Mayor Bartlett announced that her son, Jack, who has spent the past decade with the Chicago Police Department, will be Riverton’s new chief of police.
Emily inserted the photograph and considered what else she should write. This was about Jack’s mother, after all. She ran a hand over her belly. A soon-to-be grandmother. She quickly placed her hands back on the keyboard.
Norma’s community spirit is well known to Rivertonians. Every year, she directs the Christmas pageant at Grace Memorial Church, and she recently headed up a successful campaign to raise funds for new playground equipment at Riverside Park.
Emily opened a folder on her hard drive, found a photograph of the newly constructed playground, and inserted it into her blog post. She had snapped the photo after the ribbon-cutting ceremony, capturing two colorfully dressed children testing the equipment. A little girl in jeans and a red jacket emerging from a bright blue tunnel slide, pigtails flying. A boy in a green hoodie swinging monkey-style from the overhead bars. The faces of both children were angled away from the camera, eliminating the need for her to ask their parents to sign a release form.
