She looked up. "I'm fine. Just hungry."
"The chief called while you were in the shower."
"Oh?'
He stepped over to the refrigerator and grabbed a beer. Screwing off the cap, he took a long swig. "Yeah. I have to go to IA tomorrow morning."
Vivian went back to making sandwiches. "But you knew they were going to look into it. It's policy."
"I guess." He reached over and grabbed a piece of ham from the package on the counter. "Could you make me one of those sandwiches too?" He ate another piece of the ham.
She swatted at Antonio's hand. "Already on it, but you gotta stop eating the lunch meat."
"So, what do I tell them?"
Vivian spread mayonnaise on the bread slices then began loading them up with cheese, meat, lettuce, tomato and onion. "Just tell them the truth. Gary saved your life."
Antonio took a long drink of his beer. When he set the bottle down, it hit the counter so hard, a spout of foam shot out of the top of the bottle. "What if it's my fault? It feels like it's my fault, Viv. It doesn't feel like he saved my life. It feels like I caused him to die."
Vivian stopped making the food and went to Antonio, wrapping her arms around him. "It's not your fault. How many times do I have to tell you that? The man with the gun killed Gary."
"He wouldn't have if I'd killed him first."
She leaned her head against his chest. "I'm sure you did everything you could."
Antonio pushed her away and began pacing the kitchen. "I froze, Viv. I had a chance to take the shot and I froze. It's my fault."
Vivian leaned back against the counter, gripping the edges with her hands to keep from smacking her husband to knock some sense into him. "Nothing I say will convince you otherwise until you are ready to see the truth for what it is. Gary's death was an unexpected nightmare but not at all your fault."
"Then why is internal affairs getting involved?"
"Because that's what they do!" She took a deep, patience-steadying breath. "Why don't you call that guy on your shift that used to work in IA? Ask him what to expect. It will make you feel better."
"Marks?"
She shrugged. "I guess. Is he the one that did the year in IA?"
Antonio nodded. "Yeah. Good idea. I'll call him." He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "You're the best, babe. I'm sorry I blew up at you."
Vivian shooed him away. "Just go make your call. I'll put a sandwich on the table for you to get when you are done."
Once Antonio left the room, she finished up the sandwiches, put the food away, and carried hers to her office. She had an article deadline that afternoon about a local city council meeting she'd covered while her husband was watching his best friend die in his arms. It seemed like a stupid thing to write about now when so much was happening but she enjoyed her part time job with the local paper and always honored a deadline.
An hour later, when she'd finished her sandwich and sent off the final draft to her editor, Vivian wandered out into the living room. Antonio was sound asleep, slouched in his favorite chair, the remote control on the floor where it had fallen from his hand and the empty plate from his lunch resting on his stomach. Carefully moving the plate so as not to wake him, she carried it to the kitchen and stowed it in the dishwasher. Tony wouldn't be home for another hour or so. The quiet house invited her to take a nap of her own. The little sleep she'd gotten after leaving Ellie's house had been punctuated by nightmares of bullets and blood and lifeless bodies.
Grabbing her laptop from her office, Vivian climbed the stairs and headed to her bedroom. Kicking off her shoes, she climbed in to the middle of the bed and leaned against the pile of pillows she placed there every day when she made the bed. At least, she did that on the days Antonio had off. When he worked at night, he came home and crashed immediately making it an exercise in futility to even bother making the bed.
Once she logged in, Vivian pulled up the local news website. Headlines and photos of the crime scene and Gary's death filled her screen.
Local Cop Shot Down in Cold Blood
Cop Killer High on Drugs at Time Of Shooting
Mental Illness: Is The Shooter Really Responsible?
The last one started her blood boiling before she even clicked the link. A picture of Antonio holding an injured Gary in his arms sat under the bold-faced words.
Surprisingly, the facts of the story were pretty close to the truth. Where the speculation kicked in on the part of the writer had to do with Gary's arriving on scene, lights flashing and sirens blaring. The article questioned concerns for mental illness, police procedure in a high-tension incident like this one, and flat out stated that he thought if Gary had used a different approach, the outcome could have been radically different.
What sort of reporter bashes the victim when his body had hardly gone cold? No one could understand the sort of adrenaline-based response that takes over on a call like that. Gary, and the other officers, only heard one thing, officer needs assistance. She knew from close to twenty years as a police wife some things were pure instinct.
That man had made a choice to take drugs that influenced his behavior. He'd made a second choice to fire that rifle at another human being. That’s all there was to it.
His choice had a ripple effect and he probably didn't even realize it. Gary's dead. Antonio's a hot mess. And Eleanor and her boys—they had such a long, grief laden road ahead of them.
"I really hope Eleanor doesn't look at this website." She closed the computer and set it on the bed beside her. Sliding down the pillows until she could roll on to her side, Vivian tucked her hands under one of the pillows and let her eyes close.
Sleep moved in quickly but so did the dreams. Antonio stumbling toward her, covered in blood, and not knowing if it's his or someone else's. People yelling. Sirens screaming. The ground shaking as someone called her name over and over again.
"Mom?" Her body shook lightly. "Vivian!"
She shot up into a sitting position. "What!" Tony stood at the side of the bed, looking worried.
"Are you okay? I kept calling your name but you wouldn't wake up."
Vivian pushed her hair behind her ears and rubbed at her eyes. “Yeah, I’m okay. I was just having this really intense dream. I’m sorry if I scared you.”
Tony smiled. “It’s okay. I just wanted to let you know I have to be at the school by six for my game. You think Dad will go since he’s not working?”
“I’ll go wake him up and tell him to plan on it.”
“Awesome! Thanks, Mom.” He left the room.
“Dinner will be ready in an hour!” she called after him.
“Okay!” he yelled back.
Tony was such an awesome kid. Good at everything he died, basketball held his heart and soul. So far, he seemed to be coping with Gary's death fairly well, something that kind of worried her. She'd expected him to have fears about Antonio and the job that would surface in the wake of the shooting but he wasn't saying much. Lord knows, the whole thing had brought to the surface all the worries and fears she'd tucked away years ago.
When they were newly married, Antonio worked at the shipyard driving a forklift. The hours had been long but it paid well and the work was relatively safe, compared to being a cop anyway. One evening he came home holding a flyer he'd found somewhere advertising hiring for the police department.
"This is what I want to do with my life," he'd said, putting it on the counter in front of her.
"But you have a good job," she'd replied, concerned that he was actually being serious.
"I can make a difference being a cop. I need to do something important, Viv." He'd looked so serious all she could do was nod and pray he'd never make it through the hiring process.
She spent fifteen years of their marriage as a police wife. It had its ups and downs but those first few years had been the worst.
"Aren't you afraid he'll die?" someone had once asked her at a birthday party.
"I sure hope you have a lot of life i
nsurance on him," someone else had said.
Vivian remembered crying herself to sleep that night. Antonio loved being a cop from day one. It truly had been the calling he'd almost missed. She, on the other hand, hadn’t planned to live the life of law enforcement and it took a long time to adjust to. If not for Gary taking Antonio under his wing, and through him, meeting Eleanor, Vivian would have cracked under the pressure the first year.
Now, all these years later, she was back to being terrified, and yes, afraid he'd die. Gary did everything right, followed all the rules, and knew all the policies. In the end, it didn't matter. None of it mattered.
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Vivian sat for a few minutes looking out the window and letting her body wake up. The short nap she’d intended to take had lasted over an hour. Exhaustion had apparently taken over and now she was struggling to come out of it.
The sun had begun to move lower on the horizon. The worst part about the fall and winter had to be the short days. Vivian watched as the sparse remnants of leaves on the trees in the back yard picked up the late afternoon sun. The reds and oranges became bright and brilliant for a moment or two before the sun shifted once more.
Sighing, she pushed up from the bed and stretched. Slipping on some slippers, Vivian headed downstairs to wake Antonio and start dinner.
The television was on when she made it to the first floor. Antonio sat in the chair, watching a news story about the shooting.
“Why are you torturing yourself?” she asked, entering the room.
He shrugged. “I can’t seem to change the channel. I just keep watching the same things over and over again.”
Vivian walked over and sat on the arm of the chair. Antonio reached up, wrapped his hands around her waist, and pulled her on to his lap. Resting his head against her chest, he groaned. “I wish it would all just go away.”
She ran her fingers through his thick, messy hair and massaged his neck with her fingertips. “I wish I could make it go away for you.”
“Gary was my best friend. I can’t believe I’ll never see him again.”
“I can’t imagine what you are going through right now. All I can say is that it will get better eventually.”
He shook his head. “Every time I close my eyes I see it all over again.”
She leaned her cheek against his and gently stroked the back of his hand with her fingertips. “I know, baby. I know. Maybe you should see a counselor? Someone to help you process all of this.”
He sat back in the chair. “No. I don’t need anyone at the department thinking I’m crazy when IA is investigating.”
She pressed a palm to his cheek. “No one is going to think you are crazy.”
“You don’t know how they think, Viv.”
Vivian stood up. “How about I go make some dinner and then we go see our son kick some butt on the basketball court? Maybe a little distraction would do you good?”
Antonio shrugged. “I could eat. I don’t think I’ve even seen Tony play this season.”
“You haven’t. He’s gotten really good too. Scouts have been checking him out from several schools.”
His expression changed to one of surprise. “Really? How did I not know this?”
“You’re usually working or sleeping. Life goes on around here too, you know.”
Sadness crept in to his dark eyes. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m not here enough.”
Vivian shrugged and smiled. “It’s okay. Lucky for you, I’m a strong, independent woman and I got this all covered.”
Antonio stood up and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I know how lucky I am. I’m gonna take a quick shower.”
Vivian listened as he took the steps two at a time and walked the hallway to their bathroom. Once she heard the water running in the shower, she headed to the kitchen. Tuscan chicken macaroni and cheese was Antonio’s favorite meal so she set to work making a big pan of it.
“That smells so good, Mom.” Tony walked into the room wearing his basketball jersey and a pair of warm up pants. “Dad says to tell you he’ll be right down.”
She picked up a serving spoon and began filling a dish with food. “Thanks. Have a seat and I’ll make you a plate so you can go finish getting ready.”
Tony sat down in his favorite place at the table. Vivian placed a large, steaming plate of food in front of him. He grabbed his fork and dug right in.
“This is so good, Mom,” he said, around a mouthful of noodles and cheese.
Vivian laughed. “I’m so glad you think so. Slow down though, buddy. I don’t want you to puke.”
"Something smells really good." Antonio appeared in the doorway. His wet hair hung over his forehead and the buttons of his polo shirt were buttoned incorrectly, but he had a smile on his face.
"Your favorite." She held up a plate she was filling for him.
"Tuscan chicken mac and cheese?" He clapped his hands together and rubbed them. "Load me up, baby. I'm starving."
Vivian added a couple extra scoops to the plate and set it down in front of her husband before filling a plate for herself.
"So, Mom tells me you got scouts checking you out?" Antonio said to Tony between bites.
Tony nodded. "Just a couple smaller schools so far."
"Hey, a scholarship's a scholarship."
"I'm proud of you no matter what schools want you," Vivian said.
"Thanks, Mom." Tony shoveled the last few bites of food into his mouth. "I'm gonna go finish getting ready."
"We're leaving at five-thirty," Vivian said. "Put your dirty stuff in the dishwasher please."
"He's growing up so fast." Antonio watched as Tony jogged from the kitchen. "When did that happen?"
Vivian sighed. "I don't know. It's like I went to bed one night and the next day my baby was almost a man."
Antonio ate the last few bites then pushed the plate away. Leaning back in his seat, he crossed his arms over his chest. "I've missed so much."
"You work hard to provide for your family."
"What's that even mean? If I missed his whole life—" He exhaled long and slow. "I always figured there'd be time. Now, though, I'm not so sure. Gary thought he'd have plenty of time to spend with his boys and look how that turned out?"
"Tomorrow is never a guarantee, you know that. Doesn't matter what line of work you're in."
"I guess." Antonio stood up and walked to the sink, where he rinsed his plate and set it in the dishwasher. "It's almost time to go. I'm gonna go warm up the car."
"All right." Vivian wanted to say something to make him feel better but she suspected Antonio was holding back tears and God forbid he ever let her see him cry.
By the time she finished cleaning up, Tony ran down the stairs and out the front door. Vivian put on her coat, slipped her feet into her shoes, and grabbed her purse. When she got into the car, Antonio and Tony were going on about something to do with sports. She loved watching her son play and rarely missed a home game but she didn't share their true love of sports.
The parking lot was filling quickly when Antonio pulled into the lot behind the school by the gym doors.
"See you guys later!" Tony was out of the car and running toward the gym before Antonio had even turned the vehicle off.
"There's going to be a big crowd tonight." Antonio motioned to the line of vehicles still pulling in to the lot.
"You okay with that?"
Antonio patted his hip and tapped his chest. She could see the chain that held his badge around his neck disappearing into the front of his shirt. "I'm good."
The gym was loud and full of people when they entered. Finding seats on the home team side, Vivian waved to a few other parents she'd gotten to know during the season.
She couldn't be sure—the crowd was large and busy—but she thought she heard a couple parents right behind them say something about the shooting and Antonio. That was the last thing her husband needed to deal with. Vivian turned and gave them her best I dare you to say something stare. On
e of the women turned to a man next to her and whispered something to him. He narrowed his eyes, appearing to study Antonio then he nodded.
The referees chose that moment to have the teams come out of the locker rooms, providing a distraction and preventing Vivian from saying anything. She didn't want to miss Tony's entrance. Turns out she didn't have to worry as the crowd roared when her son ran onto the floor.
"That poor kid. Such a bright future ahead of him and it might be over before it even gets started."
This time, Vivian clearly heard the woman behind her.
"I feel bad for him. This is not the time for cops to be screwing up like they did. His life is wrecked because of his old man," the man replied.
Her face burned as her blood boiled in her veins. She turned around, her fists balled at her sides in an effort to keep from hitting someone. "I highly suggest the two of you stop talking about things you know nothing about."
"Yeah? What makes you the expert?"
Antonio turned to look at them. "Something wrong, Viv?"
The woman's eyes widened and she froze as she recognized Antonio. Recognition also lit the man's eyes but he didn't keep quiet like his wife.
"Just talking about another dumb cop getting himself killed because we don't know how to handle mental illness in this country."
Antonio's expression transformed from questioning to rage in half a second. "What the hell does mental illness have to do with my best friend being shot down in cold blood?"
The man shrugged. "See? If you had any training at all, you'd understand the stupidity of that question. I'm a licensed psychologist. I know what I'm talking about."
"Stupidity?" Antonio eyes widened and his face turned crimson.
Vivian touched his arm. "Antonio, the game is starting."
He brushed away her touch, leaning in closer to the man. "Explain yourself."
"That man didn't need guns and sirens. He needed compassion and understanding. Something you cops seem to know nothing about. Shoot first, ask questions later. If at all."
"Antonio." Vivian tried to get his attention, break through the look of death between the two men, but she couldn't. "Our son is on the floor."
The Line That Binds Page 8
