Family Time

By

Nora Lou Wilson

And

Rebecca S. Smithey

Disclaimer: Okay, we don't own anything to do with Blue Bloods. We just like to play with the characters from time to time. This is just a very short piece, inspired by the conversation between Erin and Frank at the end of "Working Girls".

Frank Reagan loved being a cop. But even more than wearing the shield, Frank loved his family. Nothing made him feel more fulfilled than being a husband and father.

He and Mary had been neighborhood playmates as children, bosom buddies as adolescents, steady dates in high school and soul-mates for life. He still wore his wedding ring not as a force of habit (like he had once told Pop) but because it felt natural parked there on his hand.

From early on, he realized how very fortunate he was. Most of the guys he had grown up with were on their third or even fourth marriage, and estranged from their kids. He might get irritated at his kids from time to time, but he also got antsy if he did not talk to at least one of them once a day….and Sunday dinner was always the highlight of his week.

He also knew that his marriage and kids did not come without a price. He had missed a lot of ball games, recitals and school plays because of the job. He'd also left Mary hanging onto countless cold dinners and missed anniversary celebrations.

But he also knew that he had done the best he could to make up for all those, too. It had taken some doing, but he'd managed to spend at least one hour a day with the kids – even if it often meant missing their bedtimes. And once a week, without fail – okay usually without fail – he and Mary had "date night" so they could have some time alone together.

Late one night, sitting in his kitchen nursing a beer, Frank was remembering a lot of those times. He did not often allow himself the luxury of dwelling on the past, but as he had gotten older, he'd been doing precisely that.

He would never admit it now, but when disco was at its height, he and Mary were the best dancers in Bay Ridge. They took weeks of lessons, then went out every Saturday night – with her parents babysitting, and gave the crowd at the Bay Ridge Dance Club something to talk about. Even now, the sounds of the Bee Gee's "How Deep Is Your Love?" could take him back in time in an instant.

As the kids came along, it was not long before he realized that spending time with each of them would have to be tailored to their individual personalities. Danny had always been the action-oriented one. He had told Danny once that he had the attention span of a gnat – which was true, unless his attention was focused on anything to do with a ball. They spent most of their time together in the backyard, with a football…baseball…basketball…He remembered the first time he had taken Danny to Yankee Stadium for a game…

"Wow! We got great seats, Dad, huh?" Six year old Danny said as they found their places in the nosebleed section. "We can see everything from way up here, Dad!"

"We sure can, son!" Before the game had even started, Danny was standing on his seat, picking out his favorite players way down on the field. He already knew the numbers and positions of all the Yankees, and could recite the best stats…They were way too high to catch a foul ball, but that never stopped Danny from trying, standing on his seat and waving his glove around like a pro. Only an upset stomach (brought on by three hot dogs, soda and cracker jacks) had brought him to a halt, and he spent the last two innings sitting quietly on Franks's lap.

With Erin, it was her vivid and colorful imagination that Frank liked to fuel. Even way back then, she was firm in her convictions. She knew what she wanted to do in life, and she was going to be…a pirate…In his mind's eye, he could see her now, waving that plastic gold sword around at the South Street Seaport. She wore a pair of his binoculars around her neck, but her favorite looking glass was a cheap plastic replica left over from her Halloween costume.

"I'll spot the pirates first, Dad, won't I?"

He adjusted the tricorn hat on the top of his head. That morning, it had been a part of the comics in the Sunday paper, but Mary had fashioned hats for both of them before they set out. Her hat was tilted over one eye, while she studied the shoreline. "I'm gonna get on that pirate ship and sail ALL OVER the world, huh, Daddy?"

"You sure will, sweetie." He reached one arm over and brushed a lock of her hair out of her eyes. "But Mom and I will miss you while you're out sailing the seven seas."

She turned her wide eyes back to his face. "But you're gonna come with me, silly!"

She jumped into his arms, and he heard someone laugh behind him. "You're a very lucky man, Detective Reagan."

When he looked around, he saw the Mayor of the City of New York watching the both of them. "Yes sir, I sure am…"

It was never hard to spend time with Joe…so long as he had something to do with his hands. He started out with Tinker Toys, Lincoln Logs and Legos, then moved up to model cars. The basement was filled with the smell of model glue for weeks after Joe got started on a model, and he made models for every kid he knew in the neighborhood.

But there was one model in particular…They were in FAO Swartz, looking for a birthday gift for Danny, when Joe's eyes suddenly went wide, and he grabbed his father's hand. "Dad!' he whispered. "Look!"

He was pointing to a shelf full of car models, and there on top was a scale model of Frank's Chevelle. He bought it when Joe wasn't looking, and they spent the next few nights putting that car together. A lot of Joe's models were long gone now, but that particular model was still sitting on a shelf in the den where the two of them had placed it once it was finished.

Jamie was the easiest to entertain. Almost from the day he was born, he started a love affair with books. If Frank would just read to him, then he was happy, curled up on Frank's lap, listening to…well, it started with nursery rhymes, moved up to Pooh, then he started to read on his own.

"Why don't you read to me this time, Jamie?" Frank asked once, as he tucked Jamie into bed after his bedside prayers. Jamie was six, had just started school, but was now reading at a higher grade level.

"But, you always read to me, Dad…it's our thing!"

Frank sat at the edge of the bed and ruffled his son's curly hair. "You're right, son…why don't we read to each other?"

That started a ritual that was only interrupted by the demands of Frank's job. They went through the Redwall series, all of the Hardy Boys books, and then moved into history, westerns by Louis L'Amour, and the Shakespeare plays. They were still reading together from time to time until Jamie went off to Harvard Law, and it was a ritual that Frank had found hard to give up.

Maybe Nikki, Jack or Sean would like to read with their Grandpa…