All Work And No Play

By WritePassion

Esperanza Axe had a gift for figure skating. Her teacher said so, and she proved it at the southeast Florida junior competition. With her first gold medal hanging from her bedpost at home, Esperanza spurred herself to work harder at each practice. She had a competitive nature, and winning brought it out even more. After class the next Saturday, she spent extra time out on the rink while the other kids skated away to get back into their street clothes and shoes.

"Espie, time to go," Sam called as she seemed oblivious, moving to the music that was in her head, she knew it so well by now. "Espie! Now!" Still she ignored him. He sent out a shrill whistle, which finally got her attention.

"Just a few more minutes, Dad. Please?"

"No, we have to go! I need to meet your Uncle Mike."

"Oh, yeah." She stopped and put her hands on her hips, thinking about whether her father's meeting was more criticial than her skating. He could see Uncle Mike anytime. Didn't he realize how important it was for her to practice?

"Espie, I'm not gonna tell you again. Session's over, we've gotta go!" He glanced at his watch and shook his head. He was going to be late.

With a heavy sigh, she skated slowly toward the exit and gave her father a look. It was a good thing he didn't see it. He was too busy on the phone.

"Hey, what's this kid doing here? It's my ice time!"

Esperanza stopped and gaped at the woman who stepped on the rink and pushed off, gliding gracefully past her without a second look. But Espie was shocked, stunned, and frozen in one spot.

"Hey, you, get off the ice!"

"Huh? Who, me?"

"Yeah, you."

She looked up at the older man with a Russian accent, and immediately, she recognized him from pictures on Penny O'Loughlin's web site. He was her coach, Alexsander Valentin. She stared at him, unable to speak.

Alexsander saw Sam and asked, "Is this your kid?"

Sam nodded while he listened to Michael on his phone. "Come on, Espie! Sorry, Mike. Sorry, uh..." Alexsander was already half way across the rink.

Espie was almost off the ice, her eyes glued to Penny as she warmed up by skating around the outside. She was coming toward her, and Espie hoped that maybe, just maybe, she would stop and say hello. She hoped so, because she herself was unable to speak at the moment she was so star-struck. Maybe if Penny spoke first, her tongue would loosen up. But she kept on going, never even giving her a glance.

"Yeah, Mike, I'll get there as soon as I can. Esperanza is being really stubborn getting off the ice today." He pulled the phone away from his face and yelled, "Esperanza! You've got five seconds, and you're grounded. No skating for a week!" Sam didn't like playing that card, but when he did, it always got the desired results.

"Ohhhh, Dad!" She stomped off to get her shoes. "That was so embarrassing!"

"I'll talk to you when I get there, Mike." Sam sighed, put his phone away and approached her. "I don't care if I embarrassed you. You didn't obey me when I told you to do something, and that's what happens when you don't listen."

"I heard you just fine, Dad. I was distracted, that's all."

"That doesn't justify it."

"But Dad, it's her!"

"Who?"

"Her!" She pointed toward the ice.

Sam followed Espie's line of sight to the woman doing complex spins on the ice. Somehow, he knew he should know who she was, but he'd been so preoccupied and busy with work the past few weeks, he had no clue. "Yeah, who's she?"

Esperanza stuck her feet into her sneakers as she rolled her eyes and let out a breath, signaling her impatience. "She's only like the most famous skater in the world, Dad! Penny O'Loughlin! And she's here, in our arena! How cool is that?"

"Great. You ready to go?" He was texting something to Barry, an inspiration about one of their cases suddenly hitting hm.

"Yeah."

"Okay then, I'm gonna drop you off at the house and then I have to hurry up to meet Mike, because now I'm late thanks to you, Missy!"

"I wonder how long Penny is going to be around. Maybe I can get her autograph this week when I come for practice!"

"Maybe." He let her in the car, texted one last message to Mike, and got in. He drove Espie home and pulled into the driveway, letting the engine run. "Now, tell your mom I might be late tonight. We'll probably have another stake out."

"Stake out, shmake out."

He turned in his seat to face her and his eyes bored into hers. "You know, young lady, I'm getting really tired of your attitude lately."

She didn't back down. "How would you know, Dad? You're hardly around...lately." She slammed the door and ran for the back entrance of the house before Sam could give her a quick rebuttal. That was all he had time for. Instead, he shook his head and was thankful he hadn't had to go there, because there was no arguing with his daughter. She was right. But he had no choice. If she wanted to keep up her skating, being supplied in boots and blades that cost over a thousand dollars a pair, costumes and whatnot, they needed him to work. Good thing there was a lot to be done. Once they cleaned up these cases, he could afford to take off for a couple of months. Then he would have plenty of time for his family.

Michael and Sam sat in the Charger in the dark, with nothing, not even a street lamp, to give them a little light to see by. They came prepared for a night of sitting in the dark doing nothing. Sam crunched on some carrots, while Michael opted for the popcorn. He much preferred eating things he shouldn't while on a stake out, especially in the dark. Then he didn't have to worry about Fiona getting on his case. However, he should have known they were in trouble when she packed a small cooler and a grocery bag full of plastic containers. It was all healthy stuff. At least they had yogurt if he didn't feel like eating like a rabbit.

"Sam, you mind not crunching so loud? I swear they're gonna hear us."

"Boy, I get it at home and I get it from my friends. Maybe I should just call Virgil and see if he'll take me to the Bahamas for awhile just to get away from it all!"

Michael let out a breath. "You too? Fi's been on my case about spending so much time working. I told her that if she didn't keep wanting to buy the kids designer clothes, we could live on a more modest income and we wouldn't have to do so many jobs."

"And she said..."

"Nothing. She just gets this look in her eyes. I don't know what to do." He grabbed a carrot and decided to munch along with Sam. "So what's your problem at home?"

"Money's tight, we've cut just about everything we can, and it's still not enough. I need to work as much as I do to make ends meet." Sam let out a breath. "I'm afraid it's going to come down to cutting the skating lessons, or at least the extra time we rent the ice for one-on-one sessions with her teacher. Coaches don't come cheap."

"I know it seems harsh, Sam, but the kid's gotta understand."

"I don't want her to have to understand. She shouldn't have to suffer because...never mind." He paused. "I've been thinking about trying to pick up some security consulting on the side."

Michael snorted. "Oh, like you have any free time as it is!"

"Yeah, I know. I just don't know how else to make it all work."

His phone bleeped, and he touched the screen as he moved it under the dash so the glow wouldn't give away their position.

Nighty night. Love you, Daddy.

Sam smiled in the dark.

Nighty night, punkin. Love you too. See you tomorrow. {{{{{hugs}}}}}

That was the extent of his conversations with his family these days, through text, with woefully inadequate text hugs and kisses. If they weren't in a sensitive position, he'd take a phone call or make one. It wasn't the same as being there, he knew that. But for now, it was the best he could do. He hoped they understood that he was trying.

Yvette left Espie's room and made her way to her and Sam's room. Samuel's door was closed and she saw a sliver of light underneath. She knocked first and waited for him to say, "Come on in." Then she opened the door and found him on his bed, stomach down, drawing pictures. At eight years old, he was quite the artist. He obviously inherited the talent from his father, because she couldn't even draw a stick figure. While other kids were still drawing primitive looking people, he was trying to flesh them out. Their proportions were all wrong, but he was still learning.

"Whatcha drawing, Sammy?"

"I'm making a picture for Daddy. See, this is him and Uncle Mike. And I'm going to put Mr. Jack and Mr. Jesse in there somewhere. Maybe behind the car." He shrugged. "I don't know."

Yvette sat on the edge of the bed and marveled at his rendition of the Charger. "That's really good. I bet your Dad's gonna love that picture when he sees it. But right now, I want you to get to bed, mister. It's late."

"But it's Friday night, Mom!"

"So? We have to take your sister to her lesson tomorrow. Tell you what, why don't you bring your drawing along and work on it there?"

Samuel wrinkled his nose. "It's always so cold in there. I don't like it."

"Well, I'm not leaving you here alone, and you know Gramma and Grampa always go walking in the morning, so they won't be around to watch you."

"If Dad comes home, he could watch me." Samuel's eyes lit up. "He wouldn't even have to watch me, just be here."

Yvette hated to dash the hopeful look in her son's eyes. He knew by now that his father's work kept him very busy, and about the only time he took off anymore was on Sunday. Even that wasn't a given, if they had a good lead that would grow cold if they waited until Monday.

"I'll call Daddy in the morning if he isn't here, and I'll find out what his schedule is like. If he can come home, great, you can stay. But if not, you're coming along. No ifs, ands, or buts."

"Okay," Samuel grumbled as he tucked his pencils and eraser into a small zippered pouch. He closed the drawing tablet and placed the drawing instruments on top of it before putting it on his desk.

Yvette stood and reached out for a hug. "You have a good night, and I'll see you tomorrow."

He hugged her and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Night, Mom. Love you."

"Love you too, my little man." She gave him one good lip smack on the cheek that made him cringe and wipe it away. She laughed and retreated from the room.

Now it was time to go to their room. It felt more like her room, and Sam was just a guest these days. If he came home, it was often late and he tried so hard to not disturb her as he slipped under the sheets, she got used to not knowing when she awoke if he'd be there or not. Sometimes he would wake her and they would make love, but most of the time he was too tired and just went to sleep. She would give anything for life to get back to the way it used to be. If it meant the WAR Agency hired more staff, so be it. But Sam insisted that they could handle things themselves, and besides, they needed the money.

Sometimes, Yvette thought she'd rather be living in some shack in the sticks, as long as they had each other and enough to keep themselves from starving to death. Life would be so much simpler then. She fell asleep thinking what that would be like, dreaming about their family being whole and happy again.