Dinner With Dad

by Simahoyo

Maura and her Mother have kept some information from her Dad, and when he comes over for dinner one night...Well, we all know she can't lie–right? So Maura has to tell her overprotective Father about Dennis Rockman.

The sound of Billie Holiday filled Maura's empty house. She was alone again. Her house felt huge. January gray was outside, and Maura could feel it inside too. Not a Rizzoli in sight. The whole family had gone down to New Jersey to help family members celebrate the re-building of their hurricane ravaged home. Maura had been invited, but with all the hours she had used up with various emergencies, she stayed to pay back some of those hours. She worked for the people of Suffolk County and she believed in giving them her all.

Her mind wandered back to her childhood. Lonely days and nights without her parents. It was nothing new to her, but she had gotten used to Rizzolis in her house almost all the time. She seldom listened to the Blues, except when she was feeling them. Maura was too down to read her journals. The day was too dismal to enjoy the outside.

The phone rang, and by this time she would even talk to a survey taker. Maura answered her phone with her habitual, "Dr. Isles."

"Didn't look at your caller I.D., huh?"

"Dad! It's nice to hear from you. Where are you?"

"At the Beacon Hill House. Congress won't do anything, so here we news people all sit, waiting. And unlike Rupert Murdock, I won't make things up. I thought I should call and ask if you'd like some company."

"Yes. But where's Mom? Maura heard him clear his throat."You won't believe it."

"What won't I believe?"

"She's teaching a class."

Maura caught her breath. "She told me no more famous artist. She said she would go back to teaching. I didn't know she would actually do it. I'm so proud of her."

"So am I."

"How long will it take for you to get here?"

"With the roads the way they are, about forty-five minutes."

Maura turned off Lady Day, and put on Yo Yo Ma. Then she went into the kitchen to fix some Thai food, something the two of them loved, and her Mother hated. She smiled to herself, remembering her Father's comment, "For someone who loves french fries and cheese curds smothered in gravy, how can you turn your nose up at Pad Thai?" Then her refined Mother stuck her tongue out at him.

Maura had everything ready when she heard his car door slam. She ran to the door, and opened it. Their hug was enthusiastic. The cold clung to his overcoat. He sniffed the air.

"Is that red curry salmon I smell?"

"Yes", said Maura as she hung up his coat. "Nice to see you." She lead the way to the table, set with everyday dishes and silver wear. "Since Mom isn't here, I made a pot of tea."She grinned at her father, who laughed. "Forgoing wine just for your old Dad, huh?"

"Always."

They sat, and dug in to the heavenly salmon and noodles. The silence was punctuated with sounds of ecstacy from Maura's father. She tried to hide her smile.

"I remember when Mom first tried Thai food. Seattle. I was seven. You had a meeting with the Bullet family."

"You have a good memory. It was that little hole in the wall place in the International District."

"Yes. We had Pad Thai, and you failed to tell Mom the difference between Sweet red peppers and Thai Bird peppers. I thought she was actually going to hit you."

"After she drank all the water on the table. She was so angry. She didn't speak to me for an hour."

Maura laughed. "When that hour was over, I got a big increase in my French vocabulary. I can see why she won't eat it. It's our private vice."

"My asbestos mouth kid."

By then they had finished the meal. They cleared the table together, filled the dishwasher, and went back to the living room to talk.

"So, Kiddo, what's wrong?"

"I never said..."

"I could hear Billie Holiday over the phone. You only listen to her when you feel badly. So, what is it?"

Maura shifted uncomfortably. She and her Mother had tried to keep this from him. Her easy going Father changed into a revenge seeking demon whenever she was in danger–even after the fact. He knew nothing about Dennis Rockman because her Mother had decided it was better not to tell him. Maura's problem was, she wouldn't be able to lie to him.

He took one look at her face, and got an intense look in his grey eyes.

"What happened?"

"Merde. Promise not to go crazy. Please."

He looked up, half panicked. already. "What happened? Are you alright? Please tell me."

"Dad. Take a deep breath. Unclench your jaw. I'm alright now. Do you remember that story in the Globe about the serial killer who built statues around the bodies of his victims?"

Maura's father went pale. He nodded carefully.

"The last victim escaped. I was that last victim."

His fists clenched, but tears formed in his eyes, and started down his face. "No. Maura. Oh my God. Is he in prison? I'll make sure he stays forever."

"He died at the scene."

His arms were around her squeezing her for dear life. It was becoming hard to breathe. "Dad?" Maura's breath was leaving her lungs. "Dad." She pushed him away from her. She breathed in deep breaths.

"Oh God, did I squeeze too hard? Are you okay? I'm sorry."

"Daddy, Are you going to be alright? I know how you react to things like this. Mom and I thought..."

"You thought it would be better not to tell me. Do I really overreact that much?"

The look in his eyes just hurt. Maura took a deep breath and lied.

"You're not that bad."

He looked at her and smiled. "Hives. Thanks for trying."

"Change the subject?", Maura asked.

"Gladly. You and your Mother are doing so much better. I'm very happy to see that."

"So am I. I didn't know how much guilt she was carrying around with her about her sister. And I didn't remember things as well as I should have. It's a good thing we finally talked about it."

Maura was quiet for a bit longer than was normal for her. "Dad? I want to ask you about some of my memories...I don't trust them the same way I used to."

Her father turned pale. Honestly, he worried so much about every thing.

"Shoot."

"I remember being home alone so much. How true is that?"

"Oh God, I knew this would come up." He put his hands over his face. "I feel so...like the worst Father ever."

"Why? When I finally talked to Mom, I found out so much. It's your turn. Talk to me."

"Remember when your grandfather died? What were you then, six?"

"Yes. I barely remember it."

"That's when I got stuck with the whole family business. Newspapers, radio station, television stations, cable TV...you know. It was a lot. When I got it all, I found out it was a house of cards. Too much debt, over-extended, vulture capitalists circling...and thousands of jobs depending on me."

Maura reached over and patted his forearm. "I had no idea. Wasn't Uncle Charles there to help?"

He dropped his eyes. Then looked up. "Who do you think messed it up in the first place?"

"That certainly explains a lot. I always wondered why I'd never met him."

"Well, that and he tried to come on to your mother."

Maura started to laugh. "And he survived?"

"He got away with all his body parts. His dignity and ego, however, were a different story."

"I can imagine how hard it would have been for you to save the company. No wonder we hardly ever saw you."

" Thanks for understanding. Believe me, I'd rather have been home with you. You and your mother are a lot more fun than boards of directors, and other musty old business types. People think we spend all our time with glamorous actors. Nope. I send my time with production staff, writers, and camera crews...if I'm lucky."

"You know, Dad, I'd say you are much more fun than dead bodies and criminals, but I just doesn't sound very flattering."

Maura's cell phone rang, and she answered with her usual, "Dr. Isles." Then she turned away. "Yes. I'll be right there. It should be fun and I'm looking forward to it."

"I know you love your work, but..."

Maura opened the front door and in walked Constance, grinning " Hi, Bennie."

"Bennie" jumped to his feet. "Connie! This is great. You got my text."

Constance hugged Maura and strode over to her husband for a hug and kiss.. "I finished my class, and thought I would join the fun." She sniffed the air, and made a face. "Thai food?"

"Sorry, I didn't know you were coming. I could make you something, if you like.", offered Maura.

"I'm not completely helpless." She hung up her coat. "May I throw something together, Darling?"

Maura and her father looked at each other in near shock.

"She can cook?", asked Maura.

"So much you don't know about your own Mother." She opened the fridge, took out a carton of eggs, and a couple of carefully labeled cartons. "It's wonderful that you label everything. Why do you do that?"

Maura looked embarrassed. " I started when I was an intern and shared a refrigerator with other interns. You do not want any further details."

Constance laughed brightly, and proceeded to make an omelet. Maura couldn't help staring. She had literally never seen her mother cook before.

"You know, Darling, I did have to cook for your Aunt before she learned how to fend for herself."

Maura and her father joined Constance at the table. Maura having provided her Mother with a nice glass of wine.

There was a thumping sound, and Bass slowly traveled into sight.

"Bass is getting huge. Can you lift him?"

"Daddy, think about what I lift on a daily basis. He's much lighter, and more compact."

"This is good, you know? Being here with the two of you."

"Better than being with boards of directors, and other musty old business types?", asked Maura.

"Much better.", he laughed.

The End