Please see Ch 1 for disclaimers… lots and lots of disclaimers…
It was her fourth time navigating the congested street and Angela Rizzoli was just about ready to let the All-Mighty hear His name in vain when a flash of brake lights in the perfect spot saved her from her second sin of the day. Parking in Jane's neighborhood was always a pain in the ass.
17 hours of labor should have made knocking unnecessary but Angela knocked, listened to Jo Friday bark defensively before whimpering excitedly, waited and then gave a deep sigh before unlocking the door. At once she felt relief that the key turned smoothly and then irritated for feeling relieved. Natural childbirth, grey hair and raising the woman meant that Jane's door had better open for her. But recently there was always a moment of fear.
Heaven help her offspring if the day ever came that Angela was locked out. Lord knows it wouldn't last because with God as her witness Angela knew one thing. She was the mother. More importantly she was a good mother. Damn good.
If her children needed a meal or a hug or the shirt off her back they had it. In return she asked them for one promise, to love each other and remember that family came first. And Jane had taken that to heart. Right down to taking a bullet for Frankie, her own hand helping pull the trigger. It made Angela proud and terrified her all at once.
Lately she found herself covertly watching her daughter as if she could somehow recognize her child in the woman she had grown up to be. And she could. Jane was still the protective, loving, tidal-wave of personality that had put holes in her living room wall and protected her brothers from those Amatucci boys down the street.
What Angela couldn't say for sure is that she knew Jane. Not anymore, not for certain, and that devastated her. A mother was supposed to know her child. And heaven help them both she was going to get to know her daughter again. She loved Jane. From the moment the doctors had handed her that scrap of an infant with the shock of dark hair she loved her daughter with the type of tenacity that would make her rip out her own heart with a spoon if Jane needed a transplant.
And right now Jane did need a heart transplant of sorts. Angela fully understood this, despite the anger, the irritation and may the neighbors forgive them, the arguing. Jane needed her mother's heart.
Almost as much as Angela needed to know her daughter.
She dropped her purse and the bag of groceries on the counter and surveyed the space. Dirty dishes and some whirlwind disaster but at least today the counter was free of empty bottles and discarded take out containers. Quick walk down the hall to the open bedroom door showed an unmade but empty bed. Returning to the front door she could see various pairs of boots and dress shoes but no sneakers.
Angela let go of the last bit of tension and felt a smile coming on as she leaned on the kitchen counter. Jane was out, later than usual, but Jane was out with her running shoes and this was good.
At first it had shocked Angela. She had showed up that first Sunday when her calls had gone unanswered, determined to make Jane leave her apartment and get some air even if she had to call Frankie and have him help drag her out.
Only she walked in, and while the apartment was a complete disaster with enough bottles to send Angela's heart racing, she realized the space was also empty. Panicking she'd dialed Jane and cast her eyes upward promising to get better about attending Mass if Jane would just pick up.
"Rizzoli" her voice had been gruff and sounded tired.
"Janie! Where are you? Are you trying to kill me? I thought you were dead. Can't take five minutes out of your morning to call your mother back?"
"Really Ma? It's Sunday, it's probably barely past 10 am. I'm jogging. You know, like I always do? Over the Mass Ave Bridge with the traffic and the crowds? I mean come on, MIT was having a rally or something, it was freaking noisy and I didn't hear the phone. "Angela could imagine the eye roll directed at her.
Confused Angela opened her mouth and was about to reply before her mind caught up with her mouth. Swallowing her original retort and biting back a small smile she did her best to sound annoyed "Well I'm at your place and I'm making breakfast so jog your fanny back here and come see your mother. "
It was true. Jane usually did jog on Sundays. Sunday morning she'd fetch Maura or vice versa and they'd go for a run and out for brunch. It was a standing event that started when they'd trained for the marathon and just continued. Maura always made a point to say how much she looked forward to it and Jane always made sure to complain with dramatic flair. Everyone else enjoyed needling the hell out of her just to see her bring out her sarcastic best. At this point it was almost a Sunday dinner tradition. Jane would eventually growl something that would make even Tommy back off and Maura would sit demurely beside her and bite the corner of her lip to keep from laughing. So jogging was hardly Jane's first choice for exercise but running on Sunday made Maura happy. Maura looked forward to it, end of story.
That Maura was gone and Jane was still running on Sunday was telling. What Angela couldn't figure out yet was what exactly the gesture meant. She wasn't sure her daughter even knew. Grieving a loss or keeping a tattered connection alive? Either way Angela had decided not to ask. Maura was unmentionable.
Day to day she never knew what she'd find. Often there was anger. Always sorrow. Time and again Angela ended up hurt and exasperated trying to deal with her. But at the right moment, with a mother's intuition, Angela would find a lost and lonely Jane who was very much her child just in need of a hug and to let someone else hold the pieces of her together.
So, whatever the reason, whether she knew it or not Jane Rizzoli needed her mother's heart until she got her own back together. One way or another. Reaching down Angela gave a whining Jo a tummy rub hello "So for now Jo, you and Janie are just stuck with me"