Chapter 2
Jane and I have been talking about our most recent case; a list of homicides committed on adolescent males; particularly strangling. A very peculiar case indeed. I could never imagine having to bury Samuel. A mother should never precede her child. The mere thought of living without Sam makes me squirm. My heart aches for the families affected by these homicides! Poor babies…
"Momma! My tummy says it needs to eat!" Samuel houts back to us from the jogging stroller. Oh, those terrible twos and threes…When vocalization is both being developed and understood. Jane stifles an amused laugh and covers her smile with an open hand. I grin easily and roll my eyes at Samuel's irritated request.
"Might as well take a detour and feed the kid before we go to the park. I hear the Dirty Robber serves a mean breakfast...and it's only a block away." Jane smirks at me and playfully jabs her elbow into my bicep. I rub the spot, hoping a bruise doesn't form.
"Very funny, Jane! I am not exposing my 3 year old to that...lifestyle. Who's to say the Dirty Robber is even open at this hour?" I cast a doubtful gaze toward Jane and she exaggeratedly grabs a fistful of my sweater. Breathing heavily, we slow to a walk.
"Okay, okay...sheesh! How about Henry Hank's? It's just down the street and before you protest…no, they don't serve booze…At least not in the morning." Jane suggests without any evident signs of humor in her voice. However, the slight smirk she wears tells me otherwise. Sam makes "boom boom" noises and points his red plastic gun at every person he sees.
"Henry Hank's was awarded an "A" in cleanliness by the Boston Health Department…" The thought rolls off of my unguarded tongue. I seem to speak my mind in Jane's presence which is both embarrassing and refreshing. As long as Henry Hank's has pancakes, Samuel will be happy.
"So...is that some sort of cryptic code for 'yes'?" Jane raises her sculpted eyebrows in irritable question. I need to learn not to spout out facts, even if they're relevant. That falls in the middle of my long list of priorities though. I nod my head answering Jane inaudibly, a small smile playing on my lips. Jane is so feisty…
Jane and I briskly walk the rest of the distance to Henry Hank's, allowing our heart rates to return to normal. Out of my peripheral vision, I spot a man in a red windbreaker. Casting my gaze at him, we catch eyes. He smiles beautiful and leisurely in my direction. For a moment, my heart nearly stops beating inside of my chest. James!
It can't be him. James. Maura, it isn't him. James is dead. You have known this for 37 days, 3 hours and 20 minutes. The man jogging in a red windbreaker is not James. I want him to be James. The man adorns the same blonde hair and blue eyes that James had. His muscular body is very proportionate and lean, exactly like James.
"Maura...are you...crying?" Jane wraps her long fingers around my forearm and we stop walking. I break my gaping stare at the red windbreaker-wearing man. With my free hand I do my best to wipe away the stream of tears. Samuel swivels around to look at me. I wish he wouldn't. I hate crying in front of him!
"I'm sorry." The airy, quiet words tumble out of my throat. Trying to stifle the tears only makes them fall harder. This is the first time I've cried in anyone's presence in 37 days. Jane turns my body to face her and grasps my shoulders firmly. My eyes meet hers weakly and guarded.
"What is it? What's going on, Maur?" Jane's eyes search mine for the truth. The familiar pinch between her eyebrows tells me she is genuinely worried. I cannot stop the tears from falling heavily down my cheeks. People are starting to stare. I am so humiliated! Jane and I stand awkwardly in front of the Henry Hank's entrance. I am unable to control my tears.
"Why you crying, momma?" Samuel's sweet little voice is concerned and his lower lip starts to quiver with fear. I want so badly to lie to him- to tell Sam that his father is not dead. I haven't told Samuel anything and the guilt knocks roughly on my subconscious. He still holds onto the hope that James will return home to us. The thought of Sam never seeing his father again sends a wave of nausea through me.
Jane raises her eyebrows at me in concern, waiting for an explanation. I look back down at Samuel, wanting to wrap him up in my arms. Just to know that Sam's strong little heart is beating comforts me. Jane frees her hold on me and I walk around to the front of the stroller. I bend down to talk to Sam on his level. His arms reach out for me.
Holding his little fingers in my palms, I look into his beautiful blue eyes. "I just miss Daddy. I'm fine though, okay? Sometimes grownups cry when they miss someone they love." I try my best to explain this to Samuel in a way that he will understand. He blinks long eyelashes at me and nods his head cooperatively.
"Okay…I love you, Momma. Can we feed my tummy now?" Samuel asks me in all seriousness. A smile breaks through the desperation and agony I'm filled with. I nod my head, tears still spilling out of my eyes. His smooth, porcelain skin is chilly from the autumn air. What I wouldn't do to make him happy…
"Of course we can. I love you too, Samuel." I run my fingers over his little knuckles and stand up once more. Be strong, Maura, Sam needs you to be strong. I sniffle and return to Jane's side. I feel the heat of her interrogative stare on my face. Jane is far too intelligent to be deceived any longer. I will tell her about James when the time is right. Now, however, is not the most opportune time…Later.
Thankfully, Jane lets the conversation go. I will have to confide in her soon though. Nothing gets by Jane Rizzoli. Nothing.