Jill Danko resignedly cleared the table, putting the food back in the refrigerator. She sighed, hoping that everything would keep. She imagined that her fresh baked rolls wouldn't hold up though. After all was put away, she sat down at the table alone. She leaned on the table, resting a slim hand against her cheek, contemplating the plate in front of her. She wasn't really all that hungry anymore.
She rose from the table, taking the wine glass with her and settled on the couch instead. She wasn't angry. She understood her husband's job, and it wasn't uncommon for a phone call to interrupt dinner. Still, it was a dinner she'd been looking forward to all week. It wasn't often that her day off coordinated with his. She'd spent all afternoon cooking and getting ready. She was generally happy to cook for her three men - as she sometimes thought of them. They had just sat down to eat when the phone interrupted with a shrill ring, and she knew before he even picked up the phone; before he even turned to look at her with guilty eyes; knew that they wouldn't eat the pot roast she had made.
She set down the salad bowl she'd been holding and turned to face him; face the news with a smile.
"Sorry, babe." He said, looking decidedly hang-dog. "C'mon fellas." He had said turning to Willie and Terry.
Sheepishly, they had risen and with apologies had left quickly saying, "We'll meet you downstairs, Mike." No doubt their quick getaway, an attempt to avoid her anger.
"I'm really sorry." He said again, his hands resting on her shoulders.
"That's okay." She said cheerfully - or at least trying to sound cheerful. "It'll keep." She smiled up into his warm eyes.
"I don't know when . . ." He began.
"I'll be here, either way." She said. "You better go."
"Yeah, okay." He said squeezing her shoulders and leaning in for a kiss. "Sorry." He said again before he released her and turned to head out the door.
"Mike," She said softly, stopping him just as he opened the door. He turned to look at her. "You don't have to apologize. It is really okay. I understand."
He met her eyes, and she could see his whole body relax. "Yeah?" He asked with eyebrows raised.
"Yeah." She said with a quick nod of her head. He reached out for her hand and lifting it, kissed her palm. "Be safe." She added, her constant, low-level fear eeking out.
"Always." He said with a wink.
She shook her head. "Never, you mean." She laughed.
"Don't start." He responded, laughing.
"Superhero complex." She said with a grin.
"Some women find that very attractive." He said squeezing her fingers again.
"Get outta here." She said with a gentle shove, her hand on his chest.
"See ya later." He said.
"Maybe." She said closing the door to his surprised, wide eyes, and laughing still she had returned to clear the table.
***R***
"She mad?" Willie asked him, as he came down the stairs.
"Nope." Mike said climbing into the driver's seat. "She was cheerfully understanding."
"Oh, great!" Terry moaned from the passenger seat. "Now I feel like a complete jerk! It's better when she's mad."
"Yep." Mike agreed.
"We can make it up to her." Willie said from the back seat. Both Terry and Mike turned to look at their him.
"You are such a kid, Rookie." Terry commented as Mike pulled away from the apartment complex.
"What?" Willie asked.
"She spent all day cooking, got everything ready and the second we sat down the phone rang and we bolted." Mike said as he maneuvered through traffic. "She knows where we're going too." He sighed. "How do you think the three of us are gonna mange making up for the dinner, and the next hours she's gonna spend trying to convince herself that none of us are gonna get shot?"
"Flowers?" Willie asked with raised eyebrows.
"That'd be one hell of a bouquet!" Terry shook his head with a glance at Mike.
"Not enough flowers in the world, for a cop's wife." Mike said.
"Never." Terry agreed with a shrug.
"Guess we'd better just not get ourselves killed then." Willie said.
"It would only be considerate." Terry agreed.
"How do you ever convince women to go out with you?" Mike asked meeting Willie's eyes in the rearview mirror.
"With my good looks?" Willie asked. "Plus I got that uniform."
Mike shook his head with a glance at Terry as they pulled into the station. But even as they laughed together, even as they strode up the steps of the building, his mind was on Jill; her beautiful eyes looking proud and fearful all at the same time.
***R***
She finally fell asleep on the couch. She couldn't explain what it was about this night. They'd left before; dashed off leaving her behind, but she had such a strange feeling of worry. Fear was something she lived with every day. It wasn't just that he was a cop. It was Mike; part of who he was. He wouldn't back down from a situation if it meant he could help someone; save someone. Maybe it was the after effects of the war and his guilt over the ones he couldn't save. Maybe it was a superhero complex. Maybe it was just the way he was since the day he'd been born - a man determined to set things right - no matter what the cost.
It filled her with pride. She was proud of him - the kind of man he was. He was an old fashioned man in a modern world. Even his determination to marry her - not just live together like so many young people were doing nowadays. He wanted to do things right - put a ring on her hand and sign a legal document to be by her side forever. She found it intoxicating. She wasn't used to men treating her with respect; it hadn't really been her experience up until him.
But fear was part of the deal. He might wade into a situation that was over his head. He might walk into a fire-fight and never walk out. He might put the needs of someone else above his own. She knew he was a cop and she recognized what that might mean before she'd married him, but living with it day-after-day was another thing.
It wasn't something that was ever spoken of either. At least not among the other cops wives. Of course, they weren't really all that quick to embrace her. She was younger than them, and Mike was just about the only rookie who was married. They would smile at her at the luncheons and parties with wise, knowing eyes. But none of them had said one word about the fear. They laughed in their beautiful, elaborate, conservative, respectable cop's wife clothes and talked of children and recipes. She nodded and played along, trying not to seem childish, but she wanted to ask them - hell, she wanted to scream at them, "How? How do you sleep? How can you eat? How do you put that smile across your face when you know they are chasing down some psychopath who just might smile at them and then turn right around and shoot them?" But she never did.
She wished there was someone she could call now - in the middle of the night - to listen to a friendly voice. It was times like now that she wished she had a different family, or that Mike had a better relationship with his. She wished she could call her mother-in-law up on the phone and admit to her how terrified she was. Then they could commiserate together. But she imagined her mother-in-law's tight, formal voice, "One does not call after eight o'clock! It simply isn't done!" Of course, the person she could call on the phone and cry to was Mike - he was the only one she trusted that much - and of course, he was the one person she could NEVER admit those fears to. She couldn't have him distracted at work - worrying over her.
She curled up on the couch, pulling the blanket over her legs. She couldn't face the bed alone tonight. It would remind her where she wished he was, and remind her of what dangers he might be facing even as she lay in their warm bed, safe. She had clicked on the tv and as her eyes drifted closed, the news began.
"Police are in a standoff near a warehouse on East 82nd street. Officials report that the men inside are believed to be heavily armed and . . ."
She clicked the tv off, terrified, trying to erase the image of that dark neighborhood surrounded by flashing lights. She hated the news - especially when they sent out a helicopter to capture the scene live. She didn't need pictures to go with her fears. She remembered hearing a story from a cousin who had been visiting with a friend when an image flashed across the tv screen of another group of soldiers who'd been killed in Vietnam. Her cousin had said her friend had dropped to the floor in a dead faint, as they both realized the picture included her husband. It was nearly two days later, that the Marines had finally come to her door to tell her what she already knew.
Jill prayed that would never happen to her. She laid back down on the couch, trying to stem her fear. Fighting the urge to flip the tv back on, or worse yet find a way to drive right down to that warehouse. She imagined Mike's reaction with a laugh. He'd kill her! But still she pictured herself dashing into harms way, pushing Mike aside as a bullet aimed for him, hit her instead.
***R***
The sunlight pouring in woke her, and she stretched lazily, at first not remembering why she was on the couch. She sighed and went into the kitchen to make coffee. She didn't bother to check the bedroom. He wasn't home. If he had come home during the night, he would've kissed her awake - she was sure of that. She sighed, glancing at the clock. 5:42 a.m. She shuddered suddenly. Why had she read the time that way? So specifically? Why was she so frightened? She pushed dark thoughts from her mind and decided on a hot shower.
An hour later she snapped on the news, telling herself she would just check the weather but she knew it was a lie. She sat down, coffee in hand, her eyes on the screen, waiting to see if there was any news; hoping there wasn't any and wishing there was. Unfortunately, all she saw was a bunch of commercials. Feeling a rising tide of anxiety, she clicked off the tv. She had decided to forget about everything and start some laundry. Her shift didn't start until two, so she had plenty of time to get something done. She had just turned to grab the dirty clothes when the doorbell rang. She glanced at the clock - 7:18. Who would come by this early. She tried to act like nothing was wrong, but as she reached out to open the door, she saw her fingers trembling.
"Who's there?" She asked a catch in her voice, as she swung open the door.
She stood completely silent staring into the eyes of Lieutenant Ryker. She lifted a hand trying to grab a hold of something, but everything around her began to spin, and then it all went black.