"Quit my job, Maur. He wants me to quit. To be normal. To be home more. To give it all up. Or he doesn't go through with the marriage and reenlists."
"He wants you to quit Jane? As a condition of marrying him?" This is the 8th late night call, not that I am counting, that I have gotten from Jane in a state of panic or contention about Casey's proposal demands. I have talked her down from more cliffs in the past week than in our entire friendship. I know she is struggling. And it kills me.
"Well he didn't say quit but he said he wants a normal life. He doesn't want any more guns and dead people in our future. Maur, this is who I have always been. I don't know how to be anything else." Her voice cracks and I know she is on the verge of tears. It is the most heartbreaking thing I have ever heard. "But maybe he is right, ya know? Maybe he is onto something."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean… what if I could be normal for a while? Have a few kids. Have the house with a picket fence and not run to some bloody crime scene every time my phone rings. I mean… maybe he deserves that. Maybe I deserve that."
"You love your work, Jane."
She gives an exasperated sigh and agrees. "I'm trying here, Maur. I am trying to figure it all out. I am trying to weigh things out but it is like I am weighing every little thing that I know of my life against every thing that I dreamed of but have never known. God that sounds so dramatic doesn't it?" I hear her beautiful laugh on the other end of the phone and my eyes instinctively close, seeing her face in my mind.
"Jane… close your eyes." Several seconds of silence pass and I know she has complied. "I want you to tell me what you see when you see your future. Don't try to change it to fit what you think people want. I just want you to tell me the first thing you see when you see yourself in 10 years." Jane is silent for close to a minute. I allow myself to picture her processing my request. Her eyes are closed and she is leaning her head against the back of her sofa. Her legs are crossed on top of her coffee table and her right hand is toying with the arm of the sofa. Her left hand is holding the phone lazily against her ear.
"I see myself happy, Maur. I don't really know what that looks like to be exact. I just see myself kissing someone goodbye at 2 in the morning when I get a call and hearing "go get 'em" in the dark. I see myself coming home and having someone who knows when I want to brag and knows when I want to forget. I see myself making someone proud." It's not lost on me that she is saying 'someone' and not 'a man'. But I know better than to acknowledge that… to her or myself. "That's what I want. I want to make someone proud of me. I want someone who knows me and who I am. And someone who loves me in spite of who I am. I want to see myself through someone else's eyes and like what I see." I take back what I said earlier. That was the most heartbreaking thing I have ever heard. "It's like when you told me that my jokes get a little mean when I am upset or that people call me a bitch behind my back. You are honest and it gave me something to work on. So that I could be better. I want someone who makes me want to be better."
"Jane. People love you for who you are. Not in spite of it. And you don't need to be better for anyone. You are…" Intriguing. Amazing. Beautiful… "perfect… just how you are." Several seconds pass and I clear my throat to cut the silence.
"I was always the tomboy, Maur. Always kind of the outcast. I got hardened. And I think that is why I am so good at my job. Things don't get to me. I am not the typical woman. And he is right… I'm not normal. Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad change. Maybe the picket fence and kids in the front yard are what I want, I just don't know it yet. Maybe I owe it to him… maybe I owe it to myself to try." And just like that the wind was stolen from my lungs and I wanted nothing more than to curl up on my sofa and cry. There is always that one statement that reminds me how inadequate I am. She wants normal. I can never give that to her. Ever. She does deserve normal. She deserve so much better than Casey… but she deserves to be able to hold someone's hand in public without odd looks. She deserves to be able to be kissed in public without judgement. She deserves happiness… and so much more than I could give her.
"I really think you two just need to lay it all on the table, Jane. You cannot be expected to be the only one to make changes…" A soft knock on my door causes my words to trail off.
"Jane, just come in. Since when do you knock anymore?"
"What are you talking about?" I smile and walk toward my front door, knowing that Jane and Angela are the only two that ever come over at this hour. With the phone still pressed to my ear I remind Jane that I gave her a key so that she can enter on her own as I open the door.
I drop my right hand to my side, still holding the phone… "Casey?" Jane's muted voice reminds me that she is still on the other end of the phone. "uh, Jane… I'll call you right back, ok?" I hear her muffled protest before I drop the phone into my robe pocket. "Casey, what can I help you with? Come inside."
Casey shakes his head and stays planted on my doorstep. "Of course she called you. She always calls you. Another dead body… gotta call Maura. Break in the case… gotta call Maura. Which coffee should I buy… gotta call Maura."
"Casey… what is this about?" His face softens from anger to concern.
"I guess she told you. We are fighting. God, I am such an ass. I should have stopped while I was ahead but I just kept pushing. Telling her she needs a new job, telling her she needs to stay home more… she just freaked and told me to leave. I don't blame her. I kind of freak out myself, ya know? When I think about all the gun fights and dead bodies. I mean I think the woman has been shot at more than I have and I was in war. I am just worried. I don't want someone running toward the gunshots and burning buildings. I don't want someone being on call on Christmas or birthdays. Don't you think she wants to not have to see all that stuff and be in the middle of it? I mean I know you two are close… don't you worry about her?"
"Of course I worry about her, Casey. I worry about her every day. Every case. But I also trust her to do what is best for her. Jane is one of the smartest people I know. She knows herself and her job better than anyone. She knows how to handle what she does. And she knows how to balance. She has been the best friend I have ever had while still being a kick ass detective. And she can do the same for you. You have to trust her."
"I do trust her. I just don't necessarily want my wife to be detective first and wife second." He raises his voice and I can't help but feel intimidated. "I have fought for the past 15 years. Is it too much to ask to have a little peace? I little normalcy?"
"Casey… have you ever really sat down with Jane after a case and talked to her? Over a beer and fries? Have you ever cut through the sarcasm and insults and really seen her in that moment? If you had then you wouldn't be having this conversation with me. Because Jane in that moment is the only Jane you will ever want for the rest of your life. She is happy. Truly happy… when she cracks a case. She is proud when she gives a family closure. She is completely and unapologetically Jane when she is in her element. And seeing her as anything other than that is selling yourself short."
I can see my words sinking in when Casey looks to his feet, the first look of submission or guilt that I have ever seen him wear. "What would you do… if you were me?" My heart skips a beat and I try to separate myself from what I am about to say.
"If I were you, Casey, I would turn around and walk through her door and tell her everything will be alright. That's what I would do. If I were you I'd wrap her up in a hug and never let go. Even when she tries to pull away, that means you just hold on that much tighter. Even when she puts on the brave face… you hold her and you let her be the woman that she is afraid to let people see. You think she is selling you short? You think that by marrying Detective Rizzoli that you can't have Jane? Detective Rizzoli is Jane, Casey. That is who she is. And she is… incredible. I wouldn't know my best friend as anything else. If you think that having Jane is not worth being in her world of blood and death and bad guys then leave. Leave and let someone else have her. Because I guarantee you someone else will love her. It is impossible not to. Casey, if I were you I would tell her how proud you are of her for being so good at what she does. I would tell her that there is nothing in the world she could do that would make you not love her. She won't believe you at first. But when she does… you will feel it. When you kiss her, make her feel like a woman. Give her a reason to give up a little control. She has to be in control of everything else in her world, make sure you show her you can take care of her. And then do it. Take care of her. No matter how mean she is when she is stuck on a case, or how distant she is when she is working something bad, or how sarcastic she is when she is drunk… take care of her. Because mean Jane is so much better than no Jane. Sarcastic Jane is so much better…" It is only now that I realize that I am crying. My voice is strained and my past words came out as nothing more than a whisper. I tear my gaze away from Casey's wide eyes and briefly cover my face with my hand. "Look Casey. You know what to do. You love Jane for who she is. Not what she does. So just love her. Stop with the ultimatums and stop with the changing her. Just go home, shut up, and thank whatever god your believe in that she chose you." Without thinking I shut the door and press my back against it. I find myself a few seconds later sitting with my knees to my chest watching Bass inch his was toward me through tear-filled eyes. When he reaches my feet I move too quickly and cause him to retreat into his shell. "I think you have the right idea, Bass. Just pull back… keep yourself safe. I think it's time I do the same." I pay Bass' shell but he makes no movement to make himself more vulnerable to me. "You should have told me that a long time ago. I thought I could control it though, ya know? Love is biological after all. Dopamine and Norepinephrine increase during a physical attraction but die out with time. Then Seratonin and Oxytocin replace the other chemicals and govern intensity of sexual attraction and bonding behavior. So all I had to do was talk myself out of love with her. It is proven that effective self talk actually changes brain chemistry. And I can talk Bass. We both know I can talk. I can talk myself into and out of just about anything." I close my eyes and lean my head against the hard wood of my door. "But I can't lie. I think we just need to get away for a while, Bass. Me and you. Go somewhere else and start over. I can still be her best friend. She can't see hives over the phone. So I don't lose her completely. What do you think?" Bass blinks at me from inside his shell and I breathe deeply, trying to push the last hour out of my head. But Jane never really leaves my head. I allow myself a few minutes, as I do most nights, to think about her… to try to get out all of the thoughts that I can't let distract me while we work. I am lost in my thoughts when a hard knock on my door startles me. I quickly stand up and peer through my curtain to see her.
