JJ was barely in the door - had barely dropped her go-bag - after an especially awful case in Ozona, when her cell phone buzzed in her pocket. She glanced at the screen and sighed. Her older brother, Josh, had all but fallen off her radar, despite their living five minutes from one another.
He had a wife and three kids and he made it pretty clear that he didn't like seeing JJ because she reminded him too much of their sister, Janet, who had committed suicide in 1989. JJ had been eleven. Josh had been nineteen - away and in college. The eight-year age gap meant JJ didn't have much in common with him. He came to her soccer games. Cheered for her. By the time she was ten, though, Josh had moved out, and the next year, her entire world fell apart.
JJ almost ignored the call, but found she couldn't. Losing Janet left her with a constant need to always answer when family or friends called. Just in case they needed her.
"Hey, Josh. What's up?" she answered kicking off her shoes.
"It's not Josh…" a young voice sing-songed.
Even though the case had been like a special circle of hell - where kids killed other kids because they wanted to - JJ had been thinking of her niece. Had been meaning to call her. It looked like Kennedy had beaten JJ to the punch.
"Hey you," JJ greeted affectionately.
"Are you home now?" Kennedy asked, not wasting any time. "Can I come over? Mom and Dad say I can't play with any friends today 'cause I'm in trouble. But you don't count as a friend, Auntie JJ. So I'm pretty sure they'd let me come over."
"Hey!" JJ exclaimed, laughing. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Because we're related. So, are you home, or what?" Kennedy asked. "Because I'm triple-bored right now."
"Yes, I'm home. Ask your mom and dad," she prompted.
"Daddy!" Kennedy called too-loudly. "Auntie JJ's home and she really needs me to come over. So, can I?"
"I think we ought to leave your aunt alone, huh?" JJ overheard Josh saying. There was a pause, and then his voice filled the connection. "Hey, Jennifer. I'm sorry about this. I know you're probably busy-"
"She's not," Kennedy put in from close by.
"No, it's no problem. I'd like to see her. You can bring her by…or I can pick her up…" she offered.
"She tell you she's in trouble?" Josh asked skeptically.
"Yes, Josh. If you need a break, I can handle her." she said, noting the stress in his voice and seizing on it.
"Please, Daddy…" Kennedy begged. "I'll do my homework over there," she bargained. "Auntie JJ's so nice and she helps me so I can get it done fast. I won't even watch Spongebob until I'm done," she insisted.
JJ bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud.
"I'll drop her off," Josh conceded. "Clint and Reagan have soccer tonight," he said, referring to his twelve-year-old twins that JJ never really had the opportunity to know.
"She can stay the night," JJ offered. "I don't mind keeping her."
"Thanks, Jennifer. You're a lifesaver," Josh sighed.
JJ hung up, feeling a sudden heaviness in her chest. She hated expressions like that. She hated the fact that all three of her brothers' children had variations of Janet's name as their middle name - Clinton John, Reagan Jeannine and Kennedy Jane - but that his family never even spoke about her. It was as though Janet never actually existed at all.
JJ shook off her melancholy and tried to make her apartment presentable. There were piles of laundry. The sink was full of dirty dishes. Files piled unsteadily on her desk in the corner. But Josh was a speed demon and Kennedy was there before JJ was able to do much at all.
She blew in, her brown hair wind-blown and her cheeks rosy. "So, where did you just go?" Kennedy asked, plastering herself to JJ's side. "Did you save anybody? Did you think about me?"
"Um…" JJ began, trying to think. "We went to Ozona, Texas. I definitely thought of you, and, yes, we saved people."
"No, I don't mean the team. I mean just you." Kennedy insisted.
"We work as a team. No one person takes the credit," JJ reminded her gently.
Kennedy sighed dramatically. "Fine."
"So, what's this about you getting in trouble?" JJ asked, pulling her niece close.
"I don't know," Kennedy shrugged.
"Come on. You can't tell me?" she asked tickling Kennedy's side.
"Clint wouldn't let me use his half-pipe, so I rode my bike to the park instead," she said matter-of-factly.
JJ's heart stuttered in her chest. There was only one park with skateboarding equipment was six miles from her brother's house and across a major highway. Suddenly, Kennedy's being in trouble made perfect sense. If she were JJ's daughter, Kennedy wouldn't be leaving the house for a week.
"Kennedy, that is so dangerous…" JJ cautioned.
"How is it so dangerous?" Kennedy asked honestly, pulling her backpack onto the couch, unzipping it, and inexplicably pulling out a box of Triscuit crackers and aerosol cheese. "I wore my helmet. I looked both ways when I crossed the street. I didn't talk to any weird people," she said honestly, spraying some cheese on a cracker and offering it to JJ.
JJ sighed again. It seemed to be all she could do today.
"Daddy yelled at me for a long time…" she continued.
"I bet…" JJ confirmed. "It's good that you remembered all those things, but it's dangerous because that's a long distance to ride alone, first of all. And second of all, a highway is much more dangerous to cross than a normal street. There are more cars coming from more directions, and a lot of times, those drivers don't pay enough attention to what's going on around them."
"Oh," Kennedy said, taking a loud bite of cheese cracker. "Daddy said I'm eight and that's old enough to know better. I said how was I supposed to know when he didn't tell me it wasn't allowed?" she paused. "And then he got even madder…He sent me to my room, but I wanted to see what Mom was making…and the soup looked pretty good but I thought it maybe could use a bonus ingredient."
Hearing this, JJ understood her brother's lack of patience, but she also understood Kennedy's confusion. Hadn't she been on the receiving end of it countless times as a child? Kennedy's mistakes, like JJ's own, seemed to be honest ones. She was completely fearless, had a flare for the dramatic and was too curious for her own good. In short, she was just like JJ had been at her age.
"What did you put in it?" JJ asked, smiling a little.
"Promise you won't tell?" Kennedy whispered..
"Who do you think you're talking to? Secrets are my specialty," JJ said, smiling confidentially.
"The leftover coffee from the pot. I love coffee, and Mom and Dad are always drinking it, so I thought they'd appreciate that I thought of them…" she said, completely innocent and serious. "They both said I'm grounded until I'm 30."
For the first time, Kennedy seemed like all of this might be getting to her. Her shoulders slumped. She tucked the cheese and crackers away in her backpack.
"Well…" JJ offered. "Let's get your homework squared away."
"I don't have any. You can check my assignment book. I just told Mom and Dad I did, so he'd let me come over and see you," Kennedy confessed.
Because it wasn't beyond her niece to conveniently forget assignments, JJ double-checked Kennedy's book, and glanced at the notes made by her teacher. It was full of a mixture of compliments and concerns. The combination of traits and quirks that were uniquely her niece. Pleasure in class. Distractible. Helpful. Too talkative. Compassionate. A whirlwind. For once, though, Kennedy had no third grade spelling lists or math problems to complete. She seemed to be keeping up well.
"You're a good kid. You know that?" JJ asked, giving Kennedy another squeeze.
Instead of reciprocating, Kennedy stared into JJ's eyes. "Know how I said we weren't friends? Well, you really are my best friend, Auntie JJ," she said honestly.
"You're mine, too," JJ admitted. "Now come on. Let's get off the couch and have some fun."
A/N: In memory of M. Your sweet, fearless spirit is loved and missed every day.