Once Upon a Valentine’s

by Holly Jacobs

  Michelle and Samantha both laughed, which made Carly smile, some of her ire easing off.

  She’d been angry for so long. Angry that she’d given up so many things for Dean, and he’d so casually thrown her away once she’d served her purpose. Angry he could forget the vows they’d made so long ago. Angry that he could walk away from her and the kids so easily.

  “Honey,” Samantha said, her voice laced with concern. “You can’t be angry with him forever.”

  “The truth of the matter is, I’m not. I told myself that I was burning that couch as a way of purging my past, letting go of the anger and the hurt. And I think I did. I think I’m over Dean Lewis. The problem is, I don’t have a couch to burn to get over being mad at myself. I need a change. More than the haircut I got the other day.”

  She’d gone into the hair salon and asked them to cut off all her hair, wanting—no needing—to do something more to break from the past. The stylist thought the new style suited her.

  “Carly?” Samantha asked softly.

  She ran a hand through her spiky hair. “I let it happen. I don’t know how, I don’t know why. I just let him take over. It wasn’t any big decision, you know. Just little ones. Don’t cut your hair so short. I like it longer, he’d say. So, I let it grow out.”

  “I really like the new do, it suits you,” Samantha said, and Michelle agreed.

  “Thanks,” she said and paused. “Then he just pecked away. Piece by piece. Honey, I don’t know if I can do law school and work… So, I quit college to financially support us. I planned to go back and get my nursing degree when he passed his bar exam, but it was the kids, and honey, I really need you to stand by me while I get my practice off the ground. Then it was joining the right club, volunteering with the right organizations, befriending the right people, decorating in the right way…And the problem was, the right way was never my way. I love color. Big, bright, bold color. Our house was in tasteful neutrals, and if I was really wild, a pastel or two. That’s the problem, I guess. That’s the anger. I let myself fade from a vivid color to a washed-out imitation.”

  “The divorce was final months ago. You’ve divided the assets, so it’s finished. You’ve graduated, and you’ll take your boards and be official,” Samantha said. “Your future is just a few weeks away, waiting for you. You can decide your own color, Carly. You can be as vivid as you want.”

  “But…I can’t seem to get back to the color I was before Dean.”

  “Of course you can’t,” replied Michelle. “You’re different now. The thing is knowing you’re not your old color, and you’re not the colors Dean tried to make you. The trick is finding out what color you are now.”

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  “Sure you can. And finding out could be fun,” Samantha promised.

  Fun?

  That’s not exactly the word Carly would use.

  Somehow she’d do it. She’d get through January. She’d study for her boards, do her service hours, plan the PTA’s Valentine Dance, and start interviewing for a job. Working as a graduate nurse at the hospital was good, but she wasn’t sure if it was where she wanted to build her career. So, she needed to figure out what sort of nursing she wanted to practice, and what color she was now.

  Carly Lewis, the teenage college student, was long gone.

  Carly Lewis, a perfect lawyer’s wife, was gone as well.

  Carly Lewis, single mother and nurse…she was just waiting to be discovered.

  Chapter Two

  On Monday, Carly headed downtown to the police department. She parked on Perry Square near the back of City Hall. The streets were actually clear and dry, though there were still huge piles of wet, sticky snow everywhere. It clung to the trees, weighing down their branches. The Christmas lights that the city strung in the park’s trees each holiday season stuck out from under the snow at odd angles. It might have made her pause to enjoy the pretty two-block park in the center of town if she hadn’t been on her way to meet with a cop.

  Carly pulled her coat tighter as she walked from the Square to the rear entrance of the building. She had flashbacks to the night the young officer had brought her in. He’d been very sympathetic, but he’d also been young enough that it felt as if she was being taken in by Opie rather than Sheriff Taylor. The kid was so young he probably didn’t even know who Opie and Sheriff Taylor were.

  The thought was a depressing one.

  She glanced at the paper the judge had given her. She was to meet with the Communication and Community Outreach Officer.

  She walked through the automatic doors, then through a second set. Up the hall and to the left were doors with an Erie Bureau of Police sign hanging above it.

  She unwound her scarf, but left her coat buttoned.

  A cop who reached out to the community as part of his job description—he had to be nice, she assured herself. Fair and just, of course, but also nice.

  Taking a deep breath, she went to the small reception room. There were a couple of chairs, a few pictures of police officers on the wall and a huge window straight across from her, with a door to the right.

  Carly walked up to the glass. There was a pass-through hole at the bottom, and a metal speaker area that was probably level with most people’s mouths. But Carly had to stand on tiptoe to get her mouth even close to it. “Excuse me,” she said.

  A woman wearing civilian clothes rather than a police uniform was working at a desk near the glass. She looked up. “Yes?”

  “I have an appointment with the Communication and Community Outreach Officer. I’m Carly Lewis. It’s about the safety program.”

  “Let me tell Chuck you’re here.”

  A guy named Chuck was probably nice. A small bit of relief seemed to calm her nervous stomach, and Carly unbuttoned her coat.

  The door next to the window opened. “Carly Lewis?” a tall, uniformed officer asked. He had very short brown hair. Shorter than hers. Not quite a buzz cut, but military-looking. Familiar-looking.

  Very familiar.

  It felt as if she was taking an absurdly long time to make the connection, but she was pretty sure only a moment had gone by before she had it. “You? You’re the Communication and Community Outreach Officer? “

  She recognized him from the day of her accidental arsonage, as well as from the judge’s courtroom.

  “Ah, Mrs. Lewis, you remember.”

  She snorted. “Like I could forget. You were that first officer on the scene. The one who doesn’t get out of the office much any more. The one who’s second language is sarcasm.”

  “My mother always says, if you have a gift, use it. And I was just filling in until the patrol guys finished up at an accident scene.” He held the door open wide. “So, do you want to come into my office and I’ll give you our schedule for the Safety Awareness Program?”

  “Do I have a choice?” She went through the door into another hall, then waited while he walked ahead and led the way to his office.

  “Certainly you have a choice. So many of our perps don’t seem to understand that. They can choose to do the right thing, or not. In this case, you can choose to participate in the program, or I can call Andy and tell him you’d rather not fulfill your community service.”

  “Andy?” She couldn’t remember having met an Andy here.

  He paused, and turned around to face her. “Anderson Bradley. Judge Bradley.”

  She had to crane her neck in order to look the lieutenant in the eye. “You call the judge Andy?”

  He started walking down the hall again, and without turning around, said over his shoulder, “My brother-in-law.”

  Carly shook her head. She was going to spend the next month working with the judge’s brother-in-law? Great. Just great.

  The lieutenant opened the door to a small cubby of an office where there were piles of paper littering a desk. The walls were bare. There was a bookcase with binders and books jammed in it helter-skelter. He didn’t seem to mind that his office was a mess.
<
br />   Carly could think of a number of ways to make the small space more attractive and certainly more user-friendly. But she was out of the office redecorating business permanently, so she didn’t say anything.

  “Have a seat.” He nodded at one of the two functional but uncomfortable looking folding chairs in the room. “So, Andy said you’re coming to the Safety Awareness Program. I’ve got a schedule—which schools, which days.”

  He dug through the pile of papers on his right and miraculously produced a folder, which he promptly handed over to her. “I know Andy said you should talk about fire safety. He’s warped. That’s the sort of thing that would appeal to him. We’re dealing with middle-school kids, not kindergarten ones. So, you’re welcome to mention fire safety, if you like. But we’d hoped that since you’re a nurse, you might consider manning our health booth. Last year, our health booth consisted of a few pamphlets the kids could help themselves to. I thought—we thought—that maybe a live person there would be beneficial.”

  “I’ve got a nursing degree, but I haven’t passed my boards yet.” She didn’t want the lieutenant coming after her for not being forthright.

  “You’ve got more knowledge than any of us do.”

  She glanced at the folder. There was a list with six dates and the corresponding schools. “Nine to two?”

  “Some might end early, but yeah, mainly.”

  “Fine. I’ll be there. Is there anything else, Lieutenant?”

  “No, I don’t think so. But here—” he reached into the pocket of his uniform shirt and took out a card and handed it to her “—if you’re running late, or have any problems, call me.”

  “There won’t be anything I can’t handle. I’ll be there on time, sir.”

  “Have I done something to offend you?”

  Carly couldn’t get past the memory of this man standing next to her at her fire. Well, fires. He’d been so smug, so superior while watching the mess she’d created. And she’d been crying.

  That was the worst of it—he’d seen her cry.

  “No, of course there’s nothing wrong. I mean, I was humiliated when I caught my husband cheating, and the whole fire and charges, that’s been even more embarrassing. Then, rather than the judge accepting my plea bargain, I get your brother-in-law whose warped sense of justice requires I add one more thing—no I take that back, six more things—onto my already tight-to-the-point-of-exploding schedule. And here you are again, giving me that insincere I’d-never-set-the-neighborhood-on-fire smile. So, no, officer, nothing’s wrong. I’ll be at each school promptly at nine, and I’ll stay until two. While I’m there, I’ll talk to the kids about everything from fire safety to good tooth-brushing habits.”

  “Listen, this wasn’t my idea.” He rubbed the palm of his hand against his buzz-cut.

  She sighed. She was being unfair. It’s just that with everyone else—including Samantha and Michelle—she could play off the whole accidental-arson thing as if it didn’t bother her.

  But this man, through no fault of his own, had witnessed her embarrassment. He’d seen her tears. He knew that the changes mattered to her. She could be as flippant as she wanted to and pretend she was tough, but he knew better. And that made her feel exposed—vulnerable. She didn’t like these feelings, so she was going to ignore them. She’d do her best to remain totally professional and aloof around him.

  “You’re right. It wasn’t your idea. And it wasn’t mine. However, we’re both stuck with it, so we’ll make the best of it. I’ll see you—” she glanced in the file “—a week from tomorrow. If I need to know or do anything more than what you’ve indicated in this folder, call me.”

  “You didn’t give me your number.”

  “I was arrested, remember? I’m sure you have it on file.” And with that, she waltzed out of the room with as much dignity as she could muster.

  It was going to be a very long January.

  She had to study for her boards, work, organize the Valentine’s dance for the Social Planning Committee and now this. Not to mention the kids. She’d spent so long looking forward to the new year. To starting over.

  New Year’s Eve wasn’t until Wednesday, and she was already wishing it was February.

  CHUCK WATCHED CARLY Lewis…strut?

  Stalk?

  No, flounce.

  Yes, Carly Lewis flounced from his office, the file grasped a little too tightly. He was going to kill Andy. The last thing he needed was a pissed off firebug helping him with the safety program.

  His phone rang, and he picked it up without checking the caller ID. “Lieutenant Jefferson, Communication and Community Outreach.”

  He hated that his title was so long. He’d lobbied for something shorter. Mouthpiece of the Station, for instance. The Deputy Chief had nixed it.

  “Chuck, it’s Mom.”

  “Oh.” Knowing that sounded less than enthusiastic, he quickly added, “Always good to hear from you, Mom.”

  His mother snorted. “Christmas is over. You don’t have to try and be nice in order to secure a good gift.”

  “Mom, really, can’t a son just be happy to hear from his mother?” He swung his chair around so he could look out the window that faced snow-covered Perry Square.

  Cars lined the curb of the two-block park. He wondered which one, if any, was Carly’s.

  “Yes, I’m sure some sons are happy to hear from their mothers, but Charles, darling, you’re not one. At least you won’t be when I tell you that you’re expected at dinner this weekend. I know it’s only Monday,” she assured him hastily. “But I also know if I don’t give you plenty of notice, you’ll be ‘too busy’ to come. And when I say ‘too busy’ I’m air-quoting it as a visual indication that I’m being sarcastic. I wasn’t sure you heard the sarcasm over the phone.”

  “I heard it.” It didn’t take anyone overly astute to recognize his mother’s sarcasm. His mom didn’t do subtle well, probably because she didn’t even try.

  “See, you’re such a smart boy. You must get it from your very intelligent mother, who’s putting you on notice—dinner on Sunday.”

  He might as well start laying the groundwork for skipping out last-minute. “I’ll be there if I can, but you know what my job’s like.”

  His mother scoffed. “I know that for the first time since you started working as a cop, you’re on a weekdays, nine-to-five schedule. No more swing shifts, no more weekends, which means you’re able to come to dinner on Sundays. It’s your New Year’s resolution. Having a meal with your family each Sunday.”

  “I thought I was supposed to make my resolution.” He scanned the sidewalk, looking for Carly Lewis.

  “Have you made any resolutions?” his mom countered.

  “New Year’s Eve isn’t for a few days, I have time.”

  “You also have time to start the new year off with weekly family dinners. Five o’clock on Sunday. If you’re not there, I’ll have Andy swear out a contempt of court against you.”

  “Andy’s coming?”

  The moment the words left his mouth he realized how they sounded, but he didn’t have time to take them back because his mother answered immediately. He could hear the pain in her voice. “Andy’s family. No matter what, he’ll always be family, so of course he’s coming.”

  As if shaking off the vulnerability he’d heard in her words, she added in her most bossy-mom voice, “And so are you. Don’t forget. Five.”

  “I—”

  “Oh, and I should mention that if you’re dating someone, she’s welcome as well. You know me, there’s always twice as much food as we need.”

  There she was.

  Carly.

  The public entrance to the police station was on the other side of the building. Which meant she’d gone out the back and had to walk the length of the block to get to her car. He watched, waiting to see which vehicle she approached. But rather than going to one of the cars, she headed into the park, toward the gazebo.

  When he didn’t say anything, his moth
er added, “Charles, it’s time for you to settle down. It’s been a long time since Ami.”

  “I’ve dated since Ami,” he answered by rote. His concentration was on Carly. What was she doing?

  “But no one for very long. Nothing serious. You haven’t dated anyone long enough to come meet your mother. Not since Ami.”

  He wished his mother would stop saying his ex’s name. “Mom, I’m an adult.”

  “And I’m your mother. I want you to be happy. You need a good woman in your life. And I’ve decided that my New Year’s resolution is going to be finding you one.”

  That was just what he needed. His mother on a matchmaking mission. “I don’t need my mother finding me dates.”

  “Fine, then bring your own.”

  “Mom—”

  “I’m serious, Charles. You find a woman to date, or I’ll find one for you. And if you find one between now and Sunday, bring her to dinner.”

  He didn’t say anything because for the life of him, he couldn’t think of anything to say. He was the voice of the police department, both on camera and at community events like the Safety Awareness Program.

  He was the one they shoved in front of the reporters whenever they came to cover a story. The Chief had told him he got the job because he was articulate and quick on his feet. So, why was it his mother could reduce him to an in-articulate blob?

  “Charles, did you hear me?”

  “I heard you, Mom. And I’ll see you Sunday. Gotta go.” He hung up and reminded himself that in the future he should always, always check the caller ID. How hard was that to remember?

  The idea of a Sunday dinner at his parents’ didn’t appeal. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his family and didn’t like spending time with them. It’s just that Sunday dinners should include everyone, and because they no longer did, it just seemed to emphasize what was missing. Who was missing.

  Chuck shook his head. He wasn’t going to think about what was missing. His mom was right, they had to find a way to put themselves back together.