Bud Morris was an excellent detective. In fact, Peter predicted that he would be a Lieutenant someday. He didn't take no for an answer, he was thorough, and he was stern when he had to be. He got the job done. He didn't miss much. He could usually tell when a suspect was making up an alibi. The way they shifted their eyes, their lame excuses, their body language.
But he was the first to admit that he was clueless when it came to women.
When it came to his relationship with his wife, Bud felt as though sometimes he was clinging for dear life to a roller-coaster. He had a good job. So did she. Bud thought they had it all worked out. But then Jeannie accused him of being "married to his job" when she didn't see him as often as she wanted to.
Bud sighed. He realized that one of his biggest problems was bad communication. Oh, he could express himself alright. Sometimes I wish that she could just hear the things I don't say. Sometimes I just… say things that I don't mean. But so does she… at least she admits it.
Bud hated apologies. But he was realizing more and more that saying "I'm sorry" and admitting that you're wrong often worked miracles. Miracles which had saved him more than once from a lonely hotel room and a nagging conscience.
But this time things had escalated to such a degree that he knew he couldn't go back to Jeannie for at least a couple of days. The heat of the moment had been so intense; Bud winced slightly as he recalled the angry words that had been tossed around so carelessly. He slumped down lower onto the lumpy hotel couch and reached for a mint from the coffee table. Why am I such an idiot?
He rested his head in his hands and thought about some way that he could make it up to her. Maybe he would call her Friday and ask her if she wanted to go out to dinner.
She might think that's lame. Why are women so complicated?
Bud genuinely wished that he could understand his wife better. He knew intellectually that men and women think about differently, but man, that really screwed things up sometimes.
When it came to Sam, things were different. She was a friend as well as a colleague. Somehow it was easier to get along with her than it was with Jeannie. Bud cracked a smile.
She took the easy way out and just stayed single.
Bud sighed again as he recalled past arguments he had had with his wife. It usually started out with some complaint that she made. Then she would put all the blame on him and look to him to fix things. About two weeks ago she complained that she never saw him, and when she did he was tired and grumpy. Bud snapped back. "I have a job. I work. Maybe part of the reason that I'm "grumpy" when I come home at night is because I know you're just going to nag me to death as soon as I walk through the door." To which Jeannie replied tersely "If you just shut up and listened to me once I wouldn't be nagging you." Enter more verbal grenades. Then comes the throwing of Bud's things out into the street. Then the slam of the front door. Then the car door. Then a little while later two bedroom doors; one in the house, and one in a hotel down the block.
Maybe I just need to listen. Like Jeannie said. Just shut up and listen.
Bud got up from the couch and took his tie off the chair where he'd thrown it when he walked in. Something had to change. He desperately wanted to save his marriage.
"It'll all work out in the end."
He recalled saying those words to Megan a few months back. It was not until tonight that he realized that he had to make it happen.
The detective's cell phone rang and with an irritated sigh he grabbed his phone. It was Jeannie. He stared at the screen for several seconds before he picked it up.
"Please don't say anything… I'm really sorry. I hate this. I really do… but I need to tell you something. You should sit down first."
Bud raised his eyebrows.
It's almost like she knows I'm pacing around, he thought, with a rueful smile. He settled himself back down on the couch, his heart beating a little faster in anticipation.
Has we gone too far? Does she not want me to come back ever?
"I'm pregnant."
Bud's cell-phone hand fell limply to the couch. His mouth dropped open, and he stared at the ceiling in disbelief. After a few seconds of processing this news, he realized that Jeannie was still on the line. He took a deep breath.
"I… that's… uh… Jeannie, I don't know what I'm going to do." There was a short pause.
"Just come home. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you before… listen, I want you back. Please come home." Jeannie's voice broke up, and she started to cry.
Bud blinked a few times.
I'm going to be a father…
He felt overcome by emotions he hadn't felt since he first married Jeannie.
She needs me more than ever, now. And I need her.
He sniffed and nodded.
I need to man up.
"I'm coming. We'll do this together, okay? I'll be right there… it's okay…"
Bud's conscience nagged him all the way home. When he got there, Jeannie immediately ran into his arms. He wrapped her in a warm embrace and held her there for a while.
"I'm sorry…" he whispered.
"Just… be here for me. That's all I ask."
Bud nodded.
"I will."
[My first shot at writing Bud/Jeannie. Thanks for reading.]