ONE SMALL VICTORY (31 page)

“Scott and Alicia would love to have you in
their lives.”

He turned away quickly, fumbling for his
keys. “I’ll call. Make arrangements.”

Was she mistaken, or was that the sound of a
sob she heard as he opened the door?

He got in the car, brought it to life, then
pulled away without looking back.

If that wasn’t the surprise of all time.
Motionless, she watched the taillights fade into the darkness. The
shock was still so strong, she wasn’t even sure how she felt. She
should be happy for the kids. But what if it was just another empty
promise?

That thought stirred the embers of her anger,
and she realized that she was furious that it had taken this long,
taken losing their son to bring Ralph to this epiphany.

And she still wasn’t sure she could trust
him.

But the alternative – refusing to let him -
wasn’t such a good thing for a lot of reasons. Mostly for the sake
of the kids. They deserved to know and love a father.

~*~

Jenny and Scott were in the kitchen. They’d
finally gotten around to the ice-cream, which luckily was more than
enough for three small bowls, and Alicia had just finished hers and
gone to brush her teeth.

Scott stirred his spoon around his empty
bowl. “Dad seemed kind of... I don’t know. Different.”

Before Jenny had a chance to respond, the
doorbell pealed. She checked the clock on the wall. Almost
nine-thirty. A little late for company.

“Want me to get it?” Scott asked.

“No.” Jenny stood and pushed her chair
back.

She walked into the dim interior of the
living room and turned a lamp on before going to the front door.
She opened it to see Steve standing just at the edge of the
illumination. He wore a Dallas Cowboys jacket and had his hands
thrust deep in the pockets of his jeans. The jeans had a very nice
crease down the front of both legs.

He glanced away, then back and she wondered
what had brought him here.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No, I—”

“Who is that?” Jenny hadn’t realized that
Scott had followed until he spoke. She shot him a quick glance,
then looked back at Steve, hoping he could read the question in her
eyes. He nodded.

“This is Steve Morrity.” She faced Scott.
“He’s one of the officers I worked with.”

Then she turned to Steve. “This is my son,
Scott.”

Steve reached around her and shook the boy’s
hand. “Can I borrow your mom for a minute?”

“Has something happened?” Jenny asked.

“No. This isn’t official.”

That means it’s personal. She allowed a brief
flight of fantasy involving knights and steeds and wondrous places
like Camelot to play in her mind. Then she centered herself on
reality. A reality that included a son and daughter who were sick
of her being gone all the time. Not to mention the distinct
possibility that a relationship with Steve simply wouldn’t
work.

“It’s late.”

“Of course. I should’ve thought.” Steve took
a step back. “Just thought we could talk for a bit.”

Do I dare
?

If you don’t you’ll never know
.

“I’ll just be a minute.” Jenny stepped back
into the house and grabbed the jacket she’d dropped on the back of
the couch. When she walked past Scott, she caught a hint of a smile
on his face. “What?” she said.

“Nothing.” He followed her to the door.
“You’re gonna owe me big time for this.”

Jenny went down the steps and joined Steve on
the front walk. He motioned toward Scott who was closing the door.
“Is he upset?”

“No. He’s actually being pretty cool about it
all.”

Following her down the sidewalk, Steve
mentally scrambled for a conversation opener. “Nice night.”

“A little cool.” Jenny tucked her hands into
the sleeves of her jacket.

“You want to go back?”

“No. I’m fine.” She stopped walking and
leaned against the trunk of a towering Oak. “But if you’d just get
to the point, we can both go in and get warm.”

“I was hoping, maybe...” Steve pushed at an
acorn with the toe of his brown leather boot, then glanced at her
quickly. “Was I reading the signals right?”

He looked so much like an awkward teenage
boy, Jenny had to stifle the urge to laugh. “What signals are you
referring to?”

“Uh, at the club. When we were dancing. And
afterward. I felt...”

“Yes?”

He chuckled. “You’re enjoying the hell out of
this, aren’t you?”

She felt a twinge of chagrin. “Don’t know
what’s gotten into me. I’ve had Scott on a string all day.”

Steve took her hand and pulled her away from
the tree. “It’s been pretty close to a circus at the station, too.
But that’s pretty common after a big case breaks. That incredible
relief that it’s over and we’re all safe makes us a little
crazy.”

They walked for a few minutes with only the
distant sound of traffic on the highway filling the silence. Then
Steve cleared his throat. “I still don’t know where all the
professional lines are drawn and how permanent they are. But
certainly until after the trial. Which I sincerely hope will be
plenty damn soon. So maybe we’ll have to wait. But I was hoping we
could see each other.”

Jenny stood for a moment in awe at the length
of his statement. Several sentences all strung together. Almost a
full paragraph. Other than that day at Conamara, this was the most
he had spoken at one time since she’d met him.

Part of her wanted to respond to the charm of
the moment. He was as nervous as a teenager a month before prom,
and that was incredibly endearing. Another part of her was afraid
to let go of her reserve. They were both damaged goods, and it
would take a lot of work to make them whole again. Was she up to
it? Was he? Could they both let go of the past enough to do
that?

“I don’t think I’m going to like an answer
it’s taking this long to come up with.”

As the moon broke out of some cloud cover,
Jenny watched the light play across the planes of his face. He
looked worried.

Reaching up, she touched the tight line next
to his mouth. “It’s too soon for answers. My life is an emotional
wreck, and I wouldn’t want you to become one of the
casualties.”

“I see.”

He quickly turned his face away.

“Awfully quick to cave in, aren’t you?”

He swung back around and she smiled. “As they
say in some self-help programs, could we take it one day at a
time?”

He looked at her for a long moment, then
matched her smile. “We could do that.”

“Good.” She took his arm and turned back
toward her house. “Let’s start with relieving any fears Scott may
have about you dragging me off on some new undercover
operation.”

EPILOGUE

A full moon slanted silver rays through the
branches of bare trees, and Jenny felt like she was being led by
some beacon. This was one night that Scott hadn’t objected to her
going out. In fact, he’d almost pushed her out the door. What a
relief the past few days had been. With the exception of that one
big hole in their home, things had been as close to normal as she
could remember.

It was also a relief to be out minus the
skimpy clothes and miles of chains. Why did so many druggies wear
chains when they were so friggin’ cold?

She parked on the side street and walked
toward Main. She didn’t want to drive these streets. She wanted to
stroll and savor the fact that the dealers were gone. Maybe more
would take their place eventually. At least that’s what Burroughs
had said. The big-city gangs would try to come back and set up
business again. But for now people could go to the Dairy Queen and
simply enjoy an ice-cream without worrying about what was going on
in the parking lot.

After getting a chocolate cone, Jenny
wandered down several streets without a purpose in mind and was
surprised when she realized she was next to the cemetery. The
ice-cream soured in her stomach and she threw the rest of the cone
into the bushes. Some critter might enjoy the treat.

Then she entered the cemetery. The wind was
stronger here, and she had to pull her coat tight against the
chill.

Following a path that she would remember the
rest of her life, Jenny wound her way through the narrow lanes
until she came to the spot where Michael was buried. The mound of
earth was still raw and bare, and she played the beam of the
flashlight across the headstone. Michael Jasik BELOVED SON. Her
tears blurred the dates and she looked away quickly.

Just go. What are you doing here
anyway
?

She swiped at the wetness on her cheeks and
faced the rounded hump of dirt. “I killed a man the other
night.”

She waited, feeling foolish for the pause.
Did you expect a response? Some heavenly word of absolution? She
slumped to her knees on a patch of winter grass at the edge of the
grave. Dampness seeped through her jeans, but she didn’t have the
strength to stand up again.

“Next to losing you, it was the worst thing
that ever happened in my life.”

Feeling a tightness grip her stomach, she
listened to the wind soughing through the trees, like some distant
lullaby that was somehow soothing. “I didn’t tell Scott. Or Alicia.
I don’t know if I ever will.”

She fingered the coarse, brown turf. “And I
don’t even know why I’m telling you this. Hell, I don’t even know
if you can hear me.

“Why is it that people come to gravesides and
talk?” She sat back on her heels and looked around. “Do spirits
hang around waiting for loved ones to come?”

She returned her gaze to the grave. “Or is
everything that was you gone from this earth?”

A new flood of tears choked her for a moment
and she took a deep, heaving breath. Somewhere close a cricket
chirped and from further away came the baying of a hound. Normal,
everyday sounds in a moment that was anything but normal.

Leaning forward, she picked up a handful of
the loose dirt, drawing the pungent aroma deep. She liked the rich,
earthy smell of loam. Always had. “I wonder what it’s like.
Heaven.” She let the soil drizzle slowly through her fingers.
“Probably not like it’s usually depicted.”

A fluttering in a nearby tree sent a jolt of
panic through her, and she turned to see an owl lift off from a
drooping branch. “Was it something I said?”

She laughed, then. Not something she ever
thought she’d do at Michael’s grave. But the act seem to free
something up in her and allow her to say what she’d come here for.
“I don’t know if that man is up there with you. If the preachers
are right, he went straight to hell. Which is probably where he
deserves to be. But maybe...”

A sense of absurdity almost drove her out of
there.

What in the hell are you trying to prove?

I don’t know. I just...

In a desperate effort to center herself, she
touched the hard, cold granite of Michael’s headstone. “If he’s
there. If you see him. Could you...Could you tell him I’m sorry? I
just didn’t want to die.”

THE END