by Jae
"Oh, Jesus! I'm sorry. I... I didn't know. If I had known, I would never have –"
"It's all right," Dawn said. She tried hard to reestablish her emotional equilibrium and find her way back into her role as a therapist. "There was no way for you to know, and I'm sorry if the way I handled it caused you any –"
"No." This time, it was Linda who interrupted her. "Don't apologize. You don't have to feel guilty about any of it – that's what you taught me, right?" Linda gave her a small, tentative smile.
"Right," Dawn said, returning the smile.
Linda shuffled her feet. "I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything. Just promise me you'll continue with another therapist. You made so much progress, and I'd hate to have it all be destroyed just because I... I couldn't be your therapist any longer."
Linda nodded immediately. "I promise." She bit her lip. "Do you... um... do you have any... help... for yourself, I mean?"
Dawn half turned and looked back at Aiden, who was gesticulating and explaining something to the vendor while at the same time keeping an eye on Dawn. "I do," Dawn said when she turned back around.
"Good," Linda said. "That's good."
A little awkwardly, they said their good-byes, and Dawn slowly made her way back to Aiden's side.
"Everything okay?" Aiden asked.
Dawn nodded. "I just had to clear up something with a former patient."
Aiden studied her. "You told her." It was a statement, not a question.
Dawn didn't ask how she knew. Aiden was a trained observer, and she knew Dawn well enough by now to guess what had happened. "Yes," she answered.
Slowly, Aiden reached out and took Dawn's hand. "That took a lot of courage. You're an amazing woman, Dawn Kinsley." She softly squeezed Dawn's hand before letting go.
Dawn had felt neither courageous nor amazing when she had been talking to Linda, but under Aiden's admiring gaze, she began to feel better about her decision and herself. Absentmindedly, she rubbed her fingers over the hand Aiden had squeezed. "Why is your hand so sticky?" she asked, feeling the residue on her own skin.
"Oh. Sorry." Aiden wiped her hands on her jeans. "That's resin from the tree."
Dawn looked around. "Where is it?" Her perfect if too tall tree was gone.
"I got the vendor to take off a foot from the bottom so it would fit into your apartment," Aiden said. "I hope that's okay?"
"Okay?" Dawn grinned up at her. The way Aiden was there for her and tried to take care of her felt more than okay. "It's perfect."
"Well, that's what you wanted – the perfect tree, right?"
Dawn smiled. "Right."
CHAPTER 26
AIDEN TIGHTENED HER fingers around the carefully wrapped presents in her hands. Why on earth did I agree to come here? I've felt more at ease at the front door of serial killers.
The door opened, and Aiden came face-to-face with the one person she had hoped to avoid for a little bit. Grace didn't seem surprised to find Aiden on her doorstep. "Please come in. Dawn said you'd stop by."
Stop by? Is that wishful thinking on her part, or did Dawn forget to mention that she wants me to stay for dinner? Aiden wondered. She awkwardly followed Grace into the apartment.
"Aiden!" Nine-year-old Jamie raced through the living room. Aiden barely had time to put down the presents before Jamie threw herself into Aiden's arms.
Aiden grinned. Well, at least one Kinsley woman is happy to see me.
"Hi," Dawn said over the head of her niece. Her eyes were twinkling with delight.
Okay, make it two Kinsley women. Aiden set the girl back down and stepped closer to Dawn to admire the formfitting corduroy pants and the soft woolen sweater she wore.
"I'm so glad you could make it. C'mon, I'll introduce you to everyone." Dawn grabbed her by the hand, both of them very aware of the simple touch, and dragged her enthusiastically to the living room.
Aiden took everything in with growing astonishment. Grace's apartment looked like something she had thought only existed in picture books and movies. Her mother had always had a present for her, but she had never done a lot of decorating and to Aiden's knowledge had never even bought a tree.
The Kinsley family was the exact opposite. In one corner of the living room, a Christmas tree extended its branches to all sides, decorated with colorful lights and ornaments that must have been owned by the Kinsleys for generations. Aiden could see an angel with Dawn's clumsily scribbled name across its chest and a star with the carefully stenciled name of her brother, Brian, on it.
More presents than Aiden had ever seen in one place rested under the tree, and half a dozen red stockings hung over the fireplace. The room smelled of hot chocolate, freshly baked cookies, and pine needles.
Dawn introduced her to uncles, cousins, friends, and colleagues, but Aiden was sure that she would never remember the names of all these strangers. Just when she began to feel really overwhelmed by the big family and all the Christmas cheer, Del Vasquez appeared at her side. "Do you know anything about electronics?"
"Sure." Aiden would have answered "yes" even if she had been asked if she knew anything about rocket science, just to escape the awkward situation.
"Sorry, grasshopper, I have to borrow her for a second," Del announced, leading Aiden out onto the deck where half a dozen kids stood around a glowing reindeer. "We have a problem with Santa." Del pointed to the plastic figure next to the reindeer. "He refuses to shine."
Aiden fumbled with the wires for a minute before she stepped back from the now brightly glowing Santa. "Just a loose connection." She had a sneaking suspicion that the competent lieutenant could have fixed Santa on her own but was too grateful for her intervention to call her on it. That she was now the hero of the assembled children didn't hurt her position in the Kinsley household either. Single-handedly rescuing Santa had to count for something.
"Hey." Dawn stepped out onto the deck, looking between Del and Aiden. "Problem solved?"
The two other women nodded.
"Do you want eggnog or hot chocolate?" Dawn asked Aiden.
"Hot chocolate, please. I'm still on call."
"Coming right up." Dawn turned and headed back inside.
Del watched her retreat and then fixed Aiden with an intent stare. "You're on call on Christmas?"
To Aiden's ears, it sounded almost reproachful... as if she should have made sure that she would be able to spend the whole day with Dawn. Or maybe the accusation lay not so much in Del's words but in her own guilty conscience. "I'm always on call during the holidays. It's some kind of Christmas tradition with the SAD," she said, trying to smile.
"The single, lesbian detective volunteers for duty because she doesn't have anywhere else to be anyway," Del mumbled. "Been there, done that, and was stopped from doing it again by one determined Kinsley woman. So, you better prepare yourself for experiencing the same."
"Are you trying to warn her off, Del?" Dawn reappeared, handing over the mug she carried to Aiden, so she could bump Del with her shoulder.
Del looked at her, her dark eyes wide and innocent. She pressed her palm against the left side of her chest. "Would I do something like that, grasshopper?"
"The last cop who got on her bad side is probably still scrubbing the precinct bathroom with a toothbrush," Dawn explained to Aiden.
Del stretched her sinewy body with dignity. "I don't have a bad side. And now you'll have to excuse me – I'm thirsty and someone, who shall remain nameless, failed to bring me something to drink." With one last smile, Del left them alone on the deck.
Aiden leaned against the railing that separated the deck from the backyard and looked down into the mug that warmed her hands. The hot chocolate was topped off by whipped cream and marshmallows. Aiden couldn't remember when someone had last taken the time to prepare cocoa with all the extras for her.
"You're not hiding out here, are you?" Dawn closed the sliding door that separated them from the apartment. "I know my family can be a b
it much."
"No, no, they were all very friendly to me," Aiden said. "It's not them. It's me. I'm not used to having a house full of people. It's always been just my mother and me. I needed a breather, but I'm okay. You don't have to stay with me. I'm sure there are a lot of relatives in there that you haven't seen all year." She nodded toward the living room.
Dawn leaned her hip against the railing next to Aiden. "Yeah, but I'll have time to talk to them later. I don't know how long I'll have you."
Is she talking about today... the fact that I could be called away anytime? Or is she unsure whether I'll stand by this relationship for very long? "You go on in. We'll have the time later, too," Aiden said.
The glass door slid open. "Girls?" Dawn's mother stepped out onto the deck. "What are you doing out here in the cold?"
Girls? Aiden wasn't sure if she should be amused, flattered, or annoyed. Does she want to believe that I'm just Dawn's kindergarten playfellow or what? She still didn't know how to take Dawn's mother. She liked Grace, but the certainty that she would not be a big fan of her relationship with Dawn made her suspicious about everything Grace said.
"Come inside," Grace continued when neither of them answered. "Dinner is served."
Aiden followed the two Kinsley women inside. Half of the guests were already sitting around the large dining table while the others were busy placing bowls, pots, and plates on the table or helping the kids into their chairs. Aiden lingered behind, not sure where her place in the seating arrangements might be.
A small hand grabbed hers. "Aiden is sitting next to me!" Jamie announced for everyone to hear.
"Jamie!" Her mother, Eliza, raised her voice to be heard above the commotion. "Maybe Detective Carlisle doesn't want to sit next to you? I'm sure she wants to sit next to your aunt."
"It's Aiden, and lucky for you I have two sides." Aiden winked at the girl and barely held herself back from calling her "grasshopper."
Jamie's mother nodded. "Then it's Eliza. And this is my husband, Rick."
A slender man with friendly brown eyes looked up from his attempts to put his son into a high chair. "Hi. I don't suppose your child-whisperer skills extend to my youngest kid, too?" He pointed to the ten-month-old who was kicking his legs, making it impossible to put him in the high chair.
"Oh, for God's sake, Rick!" Eliza took over the task.
Youngest kid... Aiden mentally repeated. That means he considers Jamie his kid, too.
Rick grinned apologetically at his wife while he continued talking to Aiden. "I hear you're on the job?"
Aiden allowed herself to be dragged into the chair next to Jamie and answered over her head. "Yes. I'm a detective with the Sexual Assault Detail. And you?"
"I'm a dispatcher –"
"No shop talk today," Grace ordered and handed Aiden a carving knife. "Would you be so kind?" She nodded down at a giant turkey.
Aiden raised startled eyes. Me? She wants me to carve the turkey? She would have thought that honorable task would fall to Grace herself or maybe to Dawn, Rick, or Del.
Her face must have shown her surprise because Grace smiled at her. "You're part of the reason why my daughter is able to sit here today and celebrate Christmas with her family, safe in the knowledge that her rapist is behind bars. Therefore, you're my guest of honor and get to carve the turkey."
Aiden turned her head to look at Dawn, who gave her a somewhat watery smile and a nod. She carefully started her appointed task, a little clumsily in her eyes since she didn't have a lot of practice.
Finally, everyone settled down at the table. Even the children were quiet as a circle was formed as everyone joined hands. Jamie's small hand wrapped around Aiden's fingers on the left, and Dawn softly squeezed her right hand while Dawn's mother said grace.
As soon as she said "amen," the laughter, the chatter, and the clinking of plates and glasses started again. It was a family moment that Aiden had never experienced before, and she watched numbly as Grace heaped large amounts of turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, and gravy onto her plate. "Thank you, ma'am," she said belatedly. "I think that's enough."
"It's Grace," the older woman corrected while she added cranberry sauce to Aiden's dinner.
"Aiden." She nodded, much more at ease with Dawn's mother and the rest of the family now. She picked up her fork and tried a bite of turkey with gravy. "Wow, that's delicious!"
"Yeah," Del agreed, still chewing. "My mamá always told me that if I didn't bring home a Latina girl, I should at least pick someone who could cook. But alas, it was not to be – for some incomprehensible reason, she chose my partner over me." She blinked her lashes at Grace.
Grace reached over the table to slap her on the arm. "I was already married to Jim when he got partnered with your rookie Latina ass, Delicia Vasquez Montero. And your mother never told you to bring home any girl."
"She would have if she ever tasted the arte culinario of the charming Kinsley women," Del insisted with a bright grin.
"Dawn, no more wine for your aunt," Grace ordered, making everyone laugh.
By the time dessert was served – pumpkin pie, Christmas pudding with brandy sauce, and pastries filled with dried fruit – Aiden's fear of being overwhelmed or not fitting in had all but vanished. Jamie was chatting her ear off, half a dozen toddlers had tried to climb on her lap, and even Grace had gone out of her way to make her feel welcome.
Finally, she leaned back and pressed her hands against her stomach. "God, I'm stuffed!"
Dawn patted her leg. "Want to come outside with us and build a snowwoman?"
"A snowwoman?" Aiden gave her a lopsided grin.
"Yep, it has to be a snowwoman, nothing else for me."
Aiden grinned and resisted the urge to look up and see if Grace had heard the comment. "All right. Let's build a snowwoman."
Half a dozen children, bundled up in warm jackets, scarves, and woolen hats, followed them outside and began to roll growing balls of snow along the driveway. Aiden helped the small hands lift the snowwoman's head onto the torso and watched as Dawn formed two smaller snowballs. "What's that going to be? A snowbaby?" she teased.
"We're building a snowwoman; you figure it out." Dawn mischievously attached the two snowballs to the figure's front.
"Ah, it's an anatomically correct version of a snowwoman – and a very nicely endowed one at that."
Dawn stepped back to study her work and then looked down at her own chest. "You think that's a life-size replica?"
Her breath condensed in front of her as Aiden barked out a surprised laugh. "Well, a woman can hope, can't she?" She winked at Dawn but didn't delve any deeper into a comparison of the snowwoman's endowments with that of anyone else around.
A snowball that pelted Dawn from behind interrupted the conversation before it could steer into that particular territory. Dawn whirled around. "Jamie! You're throwing large, icy, hard snowballs at your favorite aunt?" She stared at the girl in exaggerated outrage.
Another snowball hit Dawn on the shoulder, dusting her with cold particles as it burst on impact. "My only aunt!" Jamie shouted back.
A few of the other giggling kids started to fling snowballs in Dawn's direction, too.
"Aiden! Help me!" Dawn took cover behind her taller friend.
"Hey, hey, hey! Leave me out of this." Aiden bent down to dodge snowballs and tried to step around Dawn, out of the line of fire, but Dawn held on to the back of her coat and followed each of her movements.
"I thought you're on call today?" Dawn panted behind her. The hot breath on her neck made Aiden shiver. "Well, there's a female citizen being attacked by a horde of hoodlums, so why don't you try to earn your paycheck and start protecting me? Now!" Dawn squeaked as one of the kids circled them, and another snowball hit her in the back.
Right at that moment, the pager at Aiden's hip went off. She opened her coat and unhooked the pager from her belt to look at its display. Shit. She pressed her lips together. "I have to go." Being on call had been a safety line for her, a r
efuge should she become overwhelmed and feel uncomfortable with Dawn's family. She hadn't expected to feel regret when she was called away, but she did.
Dawn looked equally disappointed that their time together was coming to an end, but she didn't try to get Aiden to shirk her duties or even to keep her for a few more minutes. Growing up among cops hadn't made her enthusiastic about sudden interruptions, but she understood the necessity. "Do you have time to say good-bye to everyone, or should I tell them you had to go?"
"No, I have the time to say good-bye." The victim was already dead, so two minutes more or less wouldn't matter.
