BACK ON THE CHAIN GANG – Chapter 3 of 4
Author's Note: Well, I published two chapters of this story and promptly got well and truly stuck. It seems that the way to get unstuck was to switch to Goren's POV…but that took some doing, because I find it a lot harder to get inside his head than Eames'. I would love to know if he seems in character. And, I hope all the introspection in this chapter isn't too boring. I think (hope!) that the fourth and last chapter will come pretty soon after this one. Thanks for reading!
A quiet family dinner – right, Bobby thinks with some amusement. With eight adults, two kids and a baby crammed around a dining room table that was probably designed to seat about half that number… and, at last count, at least three different conversations going on simultaneously…quiet is not exactly the word.
Eames catches his eye and grimaces apologetically. It's okay, he telegraphs back, with a lift of his shoulders and a small shake of the head. With some surprise he realizes that he means it: he's actually sort of enjoying himself. He finds he doesn't mind the din – even welcomes it. It's cheerful noise, at least, and it's helping to drown out the part of his brain that's still ticking over crime scene details and scrolling through web pages full of hate. And Eames and her family are providing a fascinating source of distraction…something new to think about, and that's even more welcome than the noise, the food or the glass of Scotch that John Eames thrust into his hand earlier.
Not that they're making any effort to distract him; in fact, as his partner promised, her family seems to be observing a sort of unspoken agreement not to try and draw him out. Somehow he doesn't feel excluded, though, or overly conspicuous – which is unusual for him, in this context. Lewis has occasionally talked him into Thanksgiving dinner, and he spent one ill-fated Easter weekend with Irene's family when they were an item…and all those times, he ended up floating on the fringes, making awkward small talk and feeling as though the words DOESN'T BELONG are tattooed on his forehead.
It's odd, he thinks, because in other social situations he's perfectly capable of functioning. He actually likes meeting new people, likes asking them questions and building up their profiles in his head, figuring out how their minds work and what they're passionate about.
But raucously cheerful family dinners…they put him on edge. Maybe it's just that you had zero practice, growing up, he thinks bitterly. Or rather, far too much practice – too much first-hand knowledge of how a family can seem happy, and still have minefields of pain and cruelty and ugliness buried just beneath the surface. So much tension, all the time, and back then he could never be sure which word or gesture would trigger the explosion. He's light-years away from that frightened boy now, but he hasn't managed to turn off the hyper-awareness, the constant low-level dread.
But tonight – tonight, he's more relaxed than he would have thought possible. Maybe it's exhaustion – but he thinks it has more to do with the Eames clan themselves. They're a cop's family, his partner had said, and maybe that's partly why. He knows he won't have to field friendly questions about what he does for a living, won't have to worry about making the answers palatable to civilian ears. There's a certain level of tacit understanding, of…acknowledgement, and it's a relief.
Still… sitting here in the midst of them all, he should be tensed for the storm to break, but he's not. And it's not that this family is an exception to the rule, either – he can see that it has its share of tensions. For instance, it's already abundantly clear to him that Alex and her younger siblings find their oldest brother's wife somewhat less than a kindred spirit, and that Molly knows it and compensates by trying too hard to be friendly, which only succeeds in further irritating the rest. Does her husband notice? He must. What does he do about it? Bobby hasn't quite got a read on Chris yet – he's at the other end of the table, telling his dad some story about a friend down at the firehall.
John Eames – now there's a man who went into retirement kicking and screaming. Bobby wonders how much of the man's subsequent lapse in judgement – being caught double-dipping – could be put down to frustration, a career cop sticking it to the bureaucracy that forced him out before he was ready to go. He probably thought it would serve the City right, to be paying him twice. Didn't think about what would happen if he got caught. Now he lives vicariously through his kids, or tries to – as much as they'll let him. He's proud of them, and also more than a little jealous, which probably comes out as over-protectiveness, and probably drives them up the wall. And, Bobby thinks inconsequentially, he's worried about his wife. He watches Alex's father watch her mother fumbling to butter a piece of bread, visibly restraining himself from offering to help. She's deteriorated a lot since her stroke – he knows it and she knows it but they don't talk about it. They'd feel better if they could admit to each other that they're afraid.
And Jen and Mike – well, they're exhausted, of course, just like any other set of new parents. He's surprised, though, by how relaxed they seem. He's only met Jen once or twice before, and remembered her as bright, fun and… tightly wound, driven. Given how hard it has been for her to have a baby, how long the journey has been for her and Mike, he'd have expected them to be nervous with Owen, treating him like precious glass, never letting him out of their reach. And they are…awestruck seems like the best word, or possibly smitten…but they're also happy to pass the baby around to be fussed over by everyone from his grandmother to his young cousins, ages eight and six; and so far they seem more likely to complain good-humouredly about late-night feedings and diaper-changing mishaps than to worry over the minute details of their son's young life. There's a deep undertone of gratitude, especially when Alex is part of the conversation, which he can tell makes her uncomfortable.
And the old wounds aren't totally healed, he thinks, remembering how Jen turned abruptly away, earlier, when Molly was going on at Alex about losing weight after her pregnancy. There's always going to be a loss there, something huge she didn't get to experience.
So there are deep-running currents, sure. But underneath, there's solid love and trust, like bedrock. He can feel it, see it in all their interactions. Unlike so many families he's met over the years whose members seem almost like strangers except for the accident of blood, these people know each other…which, Goren has no doubt, leads to some pretty spectacular fights on occasion…but he's also certain that if some outside threat were to present itself, they'd close ranks in the blink of an eye.
It sheds new light on why Eames has always backed him up in front of others, even in the first rocky weeks of their partnership. Deakins had said to him early on, if you cut Alex, she bleeds blue. He'd been annoyed because it sounded to him like the Captain was implying some sort of bias on her part, and that was the last thing he wanted or needed in a partner, blind faith or the so-called "Blue Wall" of cop culture getting in the way of clear thinking. Of course, it had soon become obvious that there was nothing wrong with Eames' thinking – as often as not, it was clearer than his. So then he'd thought she maintained the united front out of simple professionalism, or the desire to save face. Eventually, he'd realized that loyalty was one of the basic building blocks of her character…and now, three years later, he suddenly understands that on a much more visceral level. How could she not be loyal and strong in her sense of herself, he thinks wistfully, growing up in a family like this?
He can also see how she got to be so quick-witted. Laughter, teasing, snappy retorts – they're how this family shows affection, and he already knows from close to four years of partnership with Eames that sarcastic humour is also the mechanism of choice for coping with stress. And they don't suffer fools gladly, he decides. Eames would have had to be fast on her feet – both literally and figuratively – from early childhood on, to hold her own in this atmosphere. He grins inwardly, picturing her as a scrappy, skinny little kid going toe to toe with her sister and her brother. Brothers, actually, he reminds himself. You haven't met the youngest one yet. They don't strike him, any of them, as being very good at admitting weakness – in each other or in themselves. Good to know she comes by that honestly, too, he thinks sardonically.
His wandering thoughts are interrupted by Molly, leaning across the table.
"So Alex, how has it been, getting back to work?"
Eames opens her mouth to reply – but Chris cuts in before she can get a word out.
"Wait, I bet I know…Goren, you can confirm if I'm right."
Uh oh – so much for being left to my own devices.
"Let's see," Chris continues jovially. "She's chomping at the bit to get back on the job, and thus probably overdoing it, but she insists that she's fine and bites your head off if you try to tell her to slow down. Come on, I'm right, aren't I?"
Pretty much dead on the money, friend.
"Well –
He stalls, but his hesitation tells the story for him.
"I knew it!" her brother crows amid general laughter. Eames smiles, but it looks forced. Shit, he thinks. He tries to catch her eye, but she won't look at him.
"I'd like to see you try giving birth and going back to work a month later," she fires back at Chris. "See how cheerful you are!"
"But you could have had a whole three months," says Mrs. Eames gently. "I still don't understand why you didn't take the full leave the Department offered you."
Three months? She hadn't told him that. He'd been so glad to have her back at work that he hadn't questioned the timing of her return. He had no real idea of how long it took to recover from labour – and you didn't really look into it, did you?
Eames is looking rebellious, which amuses him in spite of his sudden attack of guilt.
"I was going stir crazy, sitting at home," she says evenly, and he can tell it's not the first time she's been through this with her family. "What would I have done for two more months?"
"If you think she's cranky now…" says Mike slyly. Everyone laughs again, and Bobby sees Eames flash her brother-in-law a grateful look. He remembers, suddenly, that the two of them were friends before Mike and Jen met – were they at the Academy together? The details are vague in his mind, but he gets the feeling they're often allies.
"We would have been happy to have you spend more time with us," says Jen, rubbing Owen's back.
Eames flinches just a little. "Oh – I know…and it's not that I didn't want to…" She reaches out and lets the baby grab her finger. "I just – I missed the job. I had to get back."
Her eyes flick over to his, and he's selfishly, guiltily glad. Her near-constant tiredness at work twists his heart with worry, but at the same time he's been wrestling with impatience and resentment when she isn't as quick to follow him as she might once have been. It used to be she wanted the solve as bad as he did, and she didn't care how many late nights or weekends it took to get it. But now – well, there's Owen, and she wants – needs – to spend time with him. He hadn't thought it through, hadn't reached the logical conclusion, that after birth the baby would remain a priority in Eames' life. Hadn't anticipated that he'd feel…jealous.
That's great, Goren. A new low, even for your impressive fear of abandonment.
That's what it is, he realizes in a flash of clarity. The truth is, he's never seen Eames look at anyone or anything the way she looks at Owen.She's going somewhere new, some place where maybe he can't follow, and a panicked, self-absorbed part of him is saying what about me? What if she leaves me behind? Not literally, not professionally, but…
It figures, he thinks bleakly. Just when he'd finally started to acknowledge how essential she was to him. Just when they'd started, maybe, to forge a new closeness, a different kind of friendship… but since her return to work she's been so…short and impatient with him, and it's clear that her priorities have shifted. Just how much…remains to be seen, and if he's honest he'll admit that it terrifies him – the prospect that she may have lost the desire or ability to be with him, that they're not on the same page anymore…
"But don't you think you're pushing things too hard…?" Mrs. Eames is saying worriedly.
"Don't fret, Susie." John Eames speaks up for the first time. "James Deakins is a good man – he'll keep an eye on her. So will Goren – right, Goren?"
And that's where Eames learned that thing she does with her eyebrows to make a friendly question sound oh-so-subtly threatening, Bobby thinks, amused in spite of himself.He meets her father's eyes with perfect understanding.
"Yes, sir. Whether she likes it or not."
"I don't need to be monitored!" sputters Alex, glaring daggers at both of them in turn. He gazes back levelly, not backing down this time. I shouldn't have to apologize for caring, any more than your family does, he thinks at her – and maybe she picks up on it, because her eyes soften just a little.
Maybe it'll be all right, he thinks, flashing back to the living room, earlier that evening…seeing again the open affection in her eyes, the way she smiled at him over Owen's head, the teasing that felt so familiar even if the context was totally new. If we can just get back to that at work…I can handle the rest.
He'll carry away a vivid picture of how she looked, leaning over the baby on the couch…so relaxed, more at peace than he can ever recall seeing her before. She deserves that – she deserves every bit of joy that comes to her. You can bloody well suck it up and stop being so grouchy when she clocks out at five pm on the dot, or when she gripes a bit about coming in on her day off. And you can stop pining for the more open, more…accessible…Eames you were starting to get to know before she came back to work. Just be happy that she IS back.
And hope that she stays.
TBC in Chapter 4: The Drive Home