I remembered vaguely how she had been three years ago, the last time something like this had happened. Then, of course, there had been three down, blood on my shoes, and a panicked eight-year-old who pretended that she knew what was going on, though she really didn't. Now, there was an eleven-year-old who did know, hated it, and in addition to that was now at odds with Pembleton.
Going home that night was interesting. She didn't want to go to the apartment, and she didn't want to see Abby and Rose. But it was there that I took her, anyway, because really, it was up to me. The drive over was silent. She didn't want to talk to me, even though I wanted to talk to her. When we came into the driveway, I shut the car off, but left the doors locked.
"You want to tell me what's going on here?" I asked.
Kai scowled at me. She knew better than to unlock the door, and leave, but that didn't mean she was going to answer me. I sighed.
"You're not going anywhere until you talk to me," I said. She continued scowling.
"You can't make me talk if I don't want to. I know my rights."
"You're not under arrest."
"I don't care. I'm not talking to you."
Suddenly I envied Rose her experience in dealing with things like this. Silence fell, and Kai turned, so that she was looking out the window instead of at me.
"Y'know, sitting here and bottling it all in isn't going to help," I said finally. Kai snorted.
"Yeah, you really have room to talk. Why does it even matter?"
"Because it does."
"That's not an answer."
She was angry, that was for certain. But whether it was still directed towards Frank or at me, I could no longer tell.
"Is it about what happened?"
"Will you just lay off?"
"No."
Another silence. I knew that she knew this time, I was serious, because it was a rare thing when I didn't lay off if she asked.
"He's such a jerk."
The silence had gone on for so long this time that I was surprised when I heard her speak, and before I could ask who she spoke of, she went on.
"Ever since he had that damn stroke, it's all about him, and he doesn't even care what happens, and he wants to be partners and then he doesn't, and then this?"
She trailed off, but it was only to breathe. "And then he's gonna tell y'all that he doesn't even know what the hell happened, yeah, right. And now he has even more of an excuse to walk, 'cause hey, if it ain't happening to Frank Pembleton, it ain't happening."
Silence again. Kai was still staring out the window, furiously, and all I could do was sit there and watch her. She did have a point, though.
"What happens if he does?" Suddenly she looked back at me again, anxiously. "What if that happens?"
The problem with this question was that I wasn't exactly sure.
"Tim's not going to die," I said, an explanation that she might have bought at six, but not now.
"You don't know that," she said, and unlocked the door so she could get out.
I watched her go, more stunned than anything else and wanting to somehow go back in time though I knew I wouldn't be able to.
A knock on the window startled me, and then there was Rose, getting in on the passenger's side and looking at me.
"Wherever you want to go," she said, simply, and we left.
When we ended up on the other side of town, our feet in the sand, I wasn't surprised.
"How was she?" I asked. "When she went in, I mean."
Rose sighed. "Upset. She didn't really want to talk to you."
"She was starting to scare me," I said, without looking at her, "You know how she is, she's never that quiet."
"I know." Rose trailed off for a long moment and then went on. "She's just…Well, she understands itm ore than she used to."
"I wish she didn't."
"Well, you couldn't keep her eight years old forever."
"It was easier when she was eight."
"Almost always is." Rose was in pants, the fabric around her ankles was getting soaked, but we continued walking. "She's closer to him, I think. Not closer than she is to you, but closer than the others."
"Except Kay," I said, and remembered a day from three years ago, where I'd dropped Kai off at school…only to find her sitting on the hospital bed next to Kay three hours later.
"Yeah, except Kay. And Frank being indifferent about it doesn't help."
"That's how he copes with things. Like Felton's funeral, and Crosetti's."
It had been a long while since those names had been mentioned. Rose stopped in her tracks and turned to look at me.
"That's now how she's gonna see it. She's gone six years watching those two, on and off, partners and then not. And it's not exactly news that Frank is leaving."
"She's not on the best of terms with him. She told him off in the waiting room."
"And you didn't stop her?"
"Why would I?" Suddenly I was annoyed, angry, even, at the city, at Frank, and at Tim, but not at Rose. "She was right. It wouldn't have been worth it to stop her."
Rose looked for a moment as if she wanted to say something, but I went on before she could.
"You asked me what's going to happen if he does," I said, knowing I sounded upset and not caring. "What am I supposed to do, tell her I don't know? I can't even tell her that he's not going to die without her telling me that I don't know that!"
This time, the silence was a ringing one. I hadn't even realized that I'd been shouting. Rose continued to look at me, and I wondered if she thought that I had finally lost it, that maybe I wasn't as cut out to be a parent as I thought I was.
"Don't give me that look," I said, turning away. "I know why this happened."
"Do you?" The quiet tone she'd taken was more of a challenge than anything else. I bit back the desire to swear at her, to ask her what the hell made her think she had any right to question what I did. The reason for this was because I knew that she did, she had every right.
"Yeah," I said, "I do. It's because these people, this city, they hate us and there's not a damn thing we can do about it."
I knew that it wasn't what she had been asking about, and so I started walking again. Seemed almost hopeless, this conversation we were having, because it was never going to get anywhere.
"You know that's not what I meant," said Rose, finally catching up. She sounded breathless and annoyed. I scowled at her.
"Fine," I said. "You want to hear that I'm wrong, well, I am. I shouldn't bring her up in a squad room, shouldn't expose her to thinks like this, but damn it, Rose, you said it a million times before. I can't keep her a kid forever. So tell me, what the hell am I supposed to do?"
She didn't answer. Apparently, I had thrown her for a loop, and I wasn't surprised about it, either.
"Some lessons are harder to learn than others," she said.
"When is it going to be enough?"
"It's never enough."
Another one of those hard truths. I had been in shock before, but it was hitting me now. I was a cop and had learned to handle it, and my child was…well, not. I wandered a bit farther into the water and Rose followed.
"Then what am I supposed to do?" I asked, surprised that I could hear myself. "How are you supposed to fix a hurt that you can't see?"
"You go home," said Rose. "And you wait until she comes to you, because pushing isn't going to help, and if she needs you, then she'll let you know."
The answer I'd dreaded, and yet the one I needed, a hard truth in and of itself, on top of the other ones that had been learned already. Suddenly I felt tired, and so I handed the keys to Rose, so she could drive.
We were back before I knew it, and so I went upstairs, where I could hear Kai and Michelle, and I went to the room where I normally crashed when we were over.
Cold feet woke me up a few hours later, and then there was Kai, asleep in the place beside me, at the moment the one place where, for her, there were no more hard truths she had to learn.