Takes place sometime after Rusty meets Jack. You'll notice as you read that I never name Sharon's daughter. I apologize if that gets annoying, but since we don't know her name yet, I thought it best just to avoid it.
Telephones
"Please, Mom."
"I know he isn't a good father, but he is still your father," Rusty heard Sharon say as though she'd had this conversation a dozen times.
"That was hardly my decision." From where Rusty was sitting, it was clear that Sharon's daughter was not impressed. However, the Skype connection was lagging a bit.
"At least he called you," Sharon replied, choosing not to reply to her daughter's jab.
"And what did you have to give him to make him do that?"
Rusty was surprised to see the shocked look on Sharon's face.
"Don't look at me like that," Sharon's daughter continued. "I lived with you most of my life, and I know you're not above bribery."
Rusty gave an amused snort as he pretended to study the chess board.
"What if I said that it would make me very happy if you at least tried to talk to him?"
There was no reply for a few moments, so Rusty glanced at Sharon's computer screen to see Sharon's daughter. She was staring straight out of the screen with a look Rusty couldn't quite decipher. She looked both angry and sad, but at the same time seemed to be trying to hide her emotions. Rusty thought she could use a little more practice.
"If he ever calls me back, Mom, I won't hang up on him. That's all I can promise."
"Thank you."
"I have to go. I have practice," Sharon's daughter said.
"Okay. I love you." Sharon's voice always had a soft melodic quality when she said that, Rusty had noticed. It always made him feel…something when he heard it. She'd only said it to him a few times, but she said it the same way to her kids whenever they talked. He wondered if hearing those little words meant as much to them as it did to him.
"Love you, too, Mom." Sharon's daughter then called out a little louder, "See you later, Rusty."
Sharon turned the computer towards Rusty, so he could wave and say goodbye before she closed her laptop.
Rusty didn't quite understand why Sharon's kids said "hello" and asked how he was doing whenever they called. He'd even had full conversations with them before, and even though they'd never actually met they seemed to like him. To confuse the issue even more Sharon acted like this was completely normal behavior. It's not that he didn't like her kids, but he didn't know how he'd feel if Sharon suddenly showed up with another orphaned kid to take of. He didn't think he'd like it, but Sharon's kids seemed to like him. Weird. Rusty watched as Sharon stood up and put her laptop away before going into the kitchen to start dinner.
"She really doesn't like Jack, huh?" Rusty asked after a moment.
"She's understandably upset with him, yes," she replied with a shrug. Both quickly lost themselves in their thoughts momentarily as they each processed the conversation. Finally, Sharon broke the silence and asked, "What do you want for dinner?"
Rusty shrugged. "Burgers." he said offhandedly. "Why is she so upset with him?" He then added under his breath, "It's not like he ever left her at the zoo."
"No burgers." She then glanced at him from around the refrigerator door. "How about chicken and rice?"
"If you already knew what you wanted to make, why'd you ask me?" Rusty whined.
Sharon, however, ignored Rusty's protest. Instead, she filled a pot up with water and put it on the stove to boil. A moment later, she returned to his previous question, nearly giving him whiplash from the sudden change in conversation again. "He did abandon them, Rusty. The only difference is that they still had me, whereas you were left without anyone except yourself."
Rusty waited for her to continue; when she didn't, he decided another question was in order. "Ricky doesn't seem to dislike him as much. He'll talk to Jack on the phone anyway."
"Ricky was also younger when Jack left. He barely remembers Jack doing something besides randomly showing up and just as randomly leaving."
"Oh." His confusion must have shown on his face then because Sharon continued explaining as she cooked.
"Also, there was a…turning point for my daughter that my son never experienced. Thankfully."
"Turning point? What kind of turning point?"
"When my daughter was eleven years old…"
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"What are you all dressed up for?" Sharon asked, sitting next to her seven-year-old son at the table and helping him with homework. Her daughter had been acting oddly since Sharon picked her up from school. In fact, she was now standing dressed up in the fanciest dress she owned. Well, a dress that still fit anyway. Sharon thought for a moment about how she'd have to take her daughter shopping again soon. She was growing out of her clothes faster than Sharon could buy them. And Sharon didn't even want to think about how she'd have to add tiny little girl bras to the shopping list.
"Daddy's coming to take me to the Father-Daughter dance for Girl Scouts!"
Sharon felt her heart actually stop for the briefest of seconds. "Father-Daughter dance? You didn't tell me about that."
Her daughter rolled her eyes and immediately adopted the classic pre-teen girl attitude. "That's cause you're not my father. Duh."
Sharon gritted her teeth and forced a smile. Killing one's own daughter was illegal after all, even if one did give birth to the ungrateful little brat. "I realize that, but I am your mother. In order for me to do my job as your mother properly, I need to know where you're going in advance. Not the day of. Also, I very clearly remember us having many conversations about you asking permission before making plans."
Her daughter rolled her eyes again and let out a long suffering sigh. "I did ask permission. Daddy said I could go, and that he would go with me."
"When did he say that?"
"Last week."
"You talked to him last week?" Sharon asked curiously, since she didn't remember Jack calling and asking for money for the week before. Like he always did when it suited him. In fact, it had been at least three weeks since she'd been able to get in touch with him. Normally, he refused to answer the phone if it was her calling.
"I called him, Mom. I'm not stupid, you know. I can use a telephone."
Not for much longer, Sharon thought. If her daughter had reached the age where she started making phone calls behind her mother's back, there were going to be some new rules in the house very soon.
"When did he say he would be here?"
All the preteen smugness and playing it cool attitude disappeared for just a few moments, and Sharon realized why her daughter had come out of her room to tell her about this now. She knew before her daughter answered that Jack was late. She could already see the writing on the wall, and she didn't think there was anything she could do to stop what was going to happen in the next few hours. But as any good mother, she would sure as hell try.
"Four-thirty" was the quiet answer.
Sharon glanced at the clock on the stove. It was almost six now. Dammit, Jack!
"I'll call him," Sharon said, going to pick up the phone.
"I already tried. Lots of times. He didn't pick up."
"I'll try again," Sharon said, knowing it wouldn't do any good, but praying for a miracle nonetheless. For her daughter's sake.
When Jack didn't pick up, she tried again. And again. It was when she tried to make the fifth call that she started hearing the busy signal. When she still heard it on the seventh call, she knew beyond a doubt that Jack had purposefully unplugged the phone from the wall jack just to make the phone stop ringing.
She hated her husband right then. Hated everything about him. And hated herself for marrying him. And…and she really didn't have time to think about that right now. She had to turn around and face her daughter. She had to watch as her husband's actions broke their baby girl's heart, and pray she could help put it back together.
Her son had finished his homework and was sitting in front of the TV. His school things were still scattered all over the table. She'd worry about making him clean it up later; right now her daughter needed her. Her little girl was now sitting at the table with her head buried in her arms so Sharon couldn't see her face.
Sharon sat down next to her and started rubbing small circles on her back while trying to think of the right words.
"He's not coming, is he?" Her daughter's words were muffled, and her voice cracked a little, but it didn't sound like she was crying yet.
"I'm afraid not."
Sharon felt her daughter's muscles tighten as her little girl tried her best not to cry. The battle was soon lost, however, as her bratty not quite teenage daughter gave up all pretenses of being too old for hugs and threw herself into her mother's arms.
Helplessly, Sharon did the only thing she could. She held onto her daughter as sob after sob made her whole, tiny, little body tremble from the effort. Sharon tried to think of a way to fix it. To cushion the blow somewhat, but she knew there was nothing to stop the pain her little girl was feeling. It was probably similar to what she felt when she'd come home from work one day to find a note on her bed from her husband and discovered all his things were gone. And that he'd cleaned out their bank account.
"Mommy, I'm hungry!" her son screamed from the living room in order to be heard over his sister's crying.
"Dinner will be ready soon." Which wasn't a lie exactly. She hadn't started on dinner yet, but she'd make something quick and easy tonight. She was fairly sure there was a box of Macaroni and Cheese in the kitchen.
"But I'm hungry now!" he screamed, louder and started crying, too. Just to have the full effect.
Sharon ignored her son's tantrum. Instead, with a great deal of effort since her little girl wasn't that little anymore, after all, she stood up with her daughter in arms and went to make dinner. She sat her daughter on the kitchen counter and pushed her away slightly. Her little girl's sobs had stopped, but her eyes were still wet, and she didn't seem inclined to let go of her mother anytime soon.
"How does mac' and cheese sound for dinner?"
Her daughter shrugged.
"Good. You can help me cook while we talk about—" her sentence was cut off abruptly as she heard a crash from the living room. She sighed. "Stay here. I'm going to see to your little brother."
"No!" Once again her little girl launched herself at her, and Sharon barely had time to catch her before she fell face first off the counter.
"Honey, I can't carry you anymore. You're too big." Her daughter just clung tighter. "Come on. Feet down." Sharon coaxed for a moment before her daughter realized she was sliding down her mother's body and if she didn't put her feet down soon she'd end up on her bottom. "Good girl."
Sharon kissed the top of her little girl's head and held her against her side as they walked into the living room to see what her son had broken.
He was sitting in front of the TV with his Nintendo in pieces, and now the tears were real.
"What happened?" Sharon asked, slightly angry. That thing hadn't been cheap.
"It broke!" her son cried, trying to fit the pieces back together.
"Did you throw it?"
He shook his head, and Sharon would have rolled her own eyes if her daughter hadn't been watching.
"That's what happens when you throw things. Now pick up the pieces and throw them away."
Her son just kept crying, and laid down on the floor. She didn't have much sympathy for him this time. Maybe breaking his own toy, instead of his sister's or something of her's, would teach him not to throw things. Leaving her son to cry in the living room, she returned to the kitchen with her all too quiet daughter in tow and started making dinner.
She helped her daughter back up on top of the counter. "Now, about using the phone…"
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"Did you really give her new rules about using the phone right after all that?" Rusty asked, already knowing the answer but figuring he'd point out how unfair he thought that was anyway.
"I did."
"That's mean, Sharon, even for you."
"She thought so, too," Sharon replied, "but it distracted her for a while."
"Oh," Rusty replied. He still thought it was unfair, but Sharon did love the rules. "What about the Nintendo?"
"What about it?" Sharon asked, unsure of why he'd ask about that.
"Did you get him a new one?"
"Santa brought one two Christmas's later, I think. Or maybe it was three..."
"Oh. Wow." Was all Rusty could think to say.
"Rusty, he was a seven-year-old throwing a tantrum, and broke his own toy. I wasn't going to reward that behavior."
Rusty shrugged, "So she still hates him because he stood her up when she was eleven?"
The change of topic didn't faze Sharon at all. "Not just that. That was just the turning point for her. The moment when she started to see the sort of person her father really was. And she didn't like what she saw."
"Yeah."
"It can be difficult to accept when someone you love and who loves you, let's you down like that."
Rusty knew exactly how that felt.
Sharon put a plate of food in front of him. Before she could sit down, though, he turned and hugged her tightly before he could change his mind.
He relaxed as Sharon's arms wrapped around him. He didn't hug her often. For the most part he still didn't like being touched. But Sharon was…he didn't know what she was, she was Sharon. He'd lived with her long enough now to know that she wouldn't just leave him, but that didn't stop the fear.
"I'll tell you what I told my daughter, Rusty, when she crawled in bed with me that night. No matter what, I will never leave you like that. You will always be able to find me. And if you call me, I will always pick up the phone."
I received wonderful reviews on my first Major Crimes fanfic, Dirty Dishes, I hope everyone enjoys this one just as much. Thank you!