Chapter 2: Strike Three
July 2009
He had just walked out of her office that day and Sharon hadn't been sure what to expect after that. The resemblance between Ricky and Mario was hard to explain away. No wonder Andy had reached his conclusion so quickly. She waited for a call from him or another visit – but nothing. A week passed, then another one and after a month she was beginning to think that maybe he had lost interest, that his display at her office had been born more out of frustration about the case and FID investigating one of their own, and less out of an actual interest to meet Ricky. Maybe that was for the best. She couldn't exactly picture herself … co-parenting, for lack of a better word … with Andy Flynn of all people. Besides, Ricky was almost an adult and she doubted that Flynn would want to share the cost of sending him to college, and university. Not that she would ever accept that anyway. Ricky was her son, she had raised him by herself up to this point and nobody was going to change that. Nobody, and most certainly not Andy Flynn.
Then she got the call to a Major Crimes roll-out. She frowned when she saw the name of the division investigating the case. Like she always did, she went into Ricky's room, gently running her hand through his unruly hair until he woke up enough to look at her.
"Uh, Mom, time?"
"Hey honey, just wanted to tell you that I've been called to a crime scene so I'm leaving." To go work with the father you don't know yet, she added in her thoughts.
"'kay. Night, Mom, sleep well."
"Ricky, honey, I'm going to a crime scene."
He stared at her. "Yeah, crime scene, got it."
"You'll remember that when you wake up tomorrow."
Ricky nodded and turned away from her mumbling something about ungodly work hours. He was almost an adult now, but there had been a time, just after Emily had left for New York, when he'd found himself alone upon waking up. She would never forget her boy's frantic frightened voice when he finally reached her on her cell. It had gotten better since, and she didn't have too many middle of the night roll-outs anymore, but she kept the habit of always making sure he knew where she was. She smiled and leaned in to place a kiss on his temple. "Sleep well, honey, and have a good day tomorrow if I'm not home in time for breakfast."
"Night, Mom, love you."
Sharon gave herself a few additional moments to look at her sleeping son, blissfully unaware. Hopefully, she'd never have to tell him.
/
"Nurse Ratchett is here and she's got her very own command post," his partner's voice sounded even more grumpy that usual. "Can't that woman leave us alone?"
The hair on Andy's arms stood up when he heard her voice arguing with the chief. After their conversation he hadn't heard from her. Not that that surprised him. She was playing for time. She was devious like that and he knew it – and it pissed him off. This, and her automatic assumptions that these two young officers had made a mistake. He bristled with irritation at her sharp tone and decided to pay her back in kind. He stood as close to her as possible trying to breathe heavily so she would feel his breath on her neck. Well, she probably couldn't with all that hair. That hair that had once … no, she had been lying to him for the past two decades and he was goddamn angry with her! Hell, he was pissed! She didn't give him a response, crossing her arms while her aloof smile remained in place, seeming unfazed by his close proximity. Then she moved and put her hands on her hips and he wasn't sure whether that was intentional, but boy, that move …
They didn't call her the ice queen for nothing. Cool, and controlled. She was good, he had to give that to her. Didn't flinch when that Kretschner guy looked her up and down like some piece of meat, screamed and shouted. No matter what the guy tried, he couldn't get a reaction out of her.
"Is that 'eat me' as in 'I wanna talk' or 'eat me' as in 'I want a lawyer'?" Andy couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. She always had a comeback. Captain Raydor had the last word in pretty much all their fights. If he was being honest with himself, Andy rather liked that. Captain Sharon Raydor. A part of him still couldn't believe that this woman was the mother of his third child, the son whom he still hadn't met. At that thought, he felt the familiar flush of anger rise in his chest. Fuck! He was going to teach her to stall like that!
/
Sharon went straight home after the funeral of Officers Stern and Duran and changed out of her uniform. She hardly wore it these days and it wasn't the most comfortable, nor flattering piece of clothing. It was a hot day and she was off duty for the rest of the day, so she decided on a light summer dress. It was much too informal, and a little too revealing to wear to work, but it would do perfectly for a lazy afternoon on her balcony.
She looked at herself in the mirror trying to remember why something about this dress felt so familiar. That good kind of familiarity that made you feel happy and content without a particular reason. Gavin had given her the dress for her last birthday. That man had a knack for fashion, and an uncanny instinct to find what suited her best. She loved this particular soft shade of very light lilac – it was the perfect colour for summer and she liked the way it contrasted with her hair. Sharon had to laugh at herself standing in front of the mirror and indulging in a moment of vanity. Then she took her hair out of the strict bun that went with the uniform and shook her head vigorously. She didn't look that bad for her age – and the curls certainly did make her look younger.
With a pot of herbal tea and a crime novel she had been meaning to read for ages she stretched out on her chaise longue, looking out over the glistening city. There was a nice breeze and she congratulated herself on having moved into the condo. Her house in the suburbs had been hot, almost unbearably so at this time of year and she remembered the first years with her two small children. She didn't have air-conditioning then and they had spent many a night sleeping out on the porch. Fond memories of gazing at the stars while telling them stories of fairies and galaxies far, far away.
Her quiet contemplation was interrupted by the chirping of her phone. Her brow furrowed when she recognised the number, but she didn't give the caller that satisfaction.
"Captain Raydor."
"Sharon," he started, dropping all formalities and dashing her faint hope that this might only be an official call requesting her presence at a crime scene. "I want to meet my son."
"Lieutenant Flynn, good afternoon to you, too."
"Stop messing around with me. I don't know what game you're playing, but I'm done. I want to meet my son. Now."
"Stop harassing me."
"Hey, hey, why so angry? You've been the one hiding the boy from me – I should be angry."
"I don't know who you think you are, Lieutenant, but this behaviour is inappropriate."
"What do you think is appropriate, then? Tell me Sharon, because I don't know. Sue you? Get a court order for a DNA test?"
"Appropriate would be for you to apologize for your outrageous behaviour and then hang up," she said quietly enunciating every syllable.
"Not gonna happen. What's in that precious rulebook of yours, Captain? I'm sure even that doesn't tell you how I should approach this situation."
"Lieutenant Flynn."
"Ah, I see, this is how you're gonna play this? See, I was thinking I could head over to St. Joseph's after school and meet my son."
"You wouldn't dare!"
"Watch me!"
"Andy, please! No. You can't do that to Ricky!"
"Good, at least that got me your attention. Meet me outside your apartment in 15 minutes and we'll go somewhere to talk."
"I don't want to talk to you – and you can't order me around like that."
"Do they still make all students attend Monday morning mass? I'm sure our Ricky is a good boy, and he would go to mass, if only to please his Mama. He is his Mama's boy, isn't he?"
Sharon could feel herself begin to panic. Ricky couldn't find out like this. He would be devastated.
"Andy, please." She hated the pleading sound of her voice. "Please think of Ricky. This is between you and me, not him. He's is a child. Please don't do that to him because you're angry with me."
"Well, honey, that is entirely your choice and the way I see it, you've been stalling. Well, guess what, I'm done waiting!"
Sharon hated to admit it, but he had rattled her this time. How much did he already know about Ricky? And what if he made good on his threat?
Suddenly her doorbell rang, then it was joined by banging on the door.
"What the hell? Flynn?" How did he know where she lived?
"You have a choice, open up the door or I'll kick it in."
"I'm going to report you for trespassing."
"Yes, that's your defence. Now, open up."
"Damn you, Flynn!" she ripped open the door and stared at him, phone still in hand. "Who do you think you are that you can just waltz in here? How do you even know where I live – and what if Ricky was here? How would I explain this to him?"
Andy was speechless, well and truly speechless for the first time in so many years. He opened and closed his eyelids in rapid succession, shaking his head to clear his view. An apparition. This couldn't be. There she was, Sharon.
Sharon from the midsummer night's dance.
"So now you've gone quiet? Well, fine, I'm going to close this door and you can go back home."
"Sharon." Something in the tone of his voice made her stop. "Sharon, it's you." Andy couldn't even remember why he had been so angry with her just a minute ago. There she was, the Sharon he had met all these years ago with her lavender summer dress and her curly hair and green eyes. It seemed that he had caught a rather private moment to interrupt her; but his Sharon was still there! Behind the stern façade and the make-up and the black suits of Captain Raydor there was still this woman he'd fallen for so many years ago. He had expected Captain Raydor and instead he was facing Sharon – and Andy couldn't find it in his heart to yell at her.
"I don't want to fight with you," he said quietly, pleadingly but that only earned him a raised eyebrow.
"You have an interesting way of showing that."
"Is … is Ricky here?"
"You can thank your lucky stars that he's at school."
"And anyone else?"
"Are you asking me if I am alone? You do realise I can defend myself."
"I … I just want to talk with you, Sharon, and I don't want to interrupt anything. Can you give me some time? Just a few moments?"
Sharon could tell Andy was different. He was still angry, but there was something underneath all that anger. A genuine interest, a sort of concern for her that surprised her.
"Okay, fine, 10 minutes," she said, putting her hands on her hips.
"May I come in? Or can I take you somewhere for a cup of coffee?" Andy was desperate to have a few minutes with her, but he realised that he had gone too far when turning up at her condo unannounced.
Sharon sighed audibly, wishing she could go back to the feeling of contentedness just a few minutes ago on the balcony. No, she decided, she didn't want Lieutenant Flynn here, at her home. She wasn't exactly dressed to go out either, but he had already seen her – and given her a strange look. Not disapproving, and he wasn't ogling her either, it had seemed … wistful, somehow.
"Let me get my purse. There's a small café in the courtyard," she suggested, bending down to slip her feet into her sandals. The café should be relatively empty at this time of day which worked well for her because she didn't want any witnesses to this conversation.
The ride in the elevator was silent, with Andy sneaking secret glances at her. He seemed different now, no longer so angry and intense. She tried a small smile and he smiled back. Captain Raydor and Lieutenant Flynn had never genuinely smiled at each other. Sneered, yes, but smiled? And then she felt a strange feeling, deep in her belly, a memory – and pushed it away decidedly.
"Thank you for coming, Sharon. I appreciate it." That smile! That was the woman he remembered, the way she nodded her head and her curls moved – just like when he had asked her to dance.
"I didn't mean to shout at you, earlier. Sharon, I'm not going to do anything to hurt Ricky, but I would like to know if he is my son. I would like to meet him."
"I need time to prepare him. You know Jack. He wasn't a good father, not by a long shot, but he's the only one Ricky knows. I can't just spring a paternity test on him out of nowhere." Sharon knew the test wasn't necessary, but at the very least it would buy her some time. Time in which to prepare Ricky, talk to him, see what he wanted to do.
"He's only seventeen, Sharon, you could…."
"No! Absolutely not!" she cut him off. "I don't know how you raised your children, but I am certainly not going to lie to my son!" Within a matter of seconds all goodwill seemed to have evaporated and they were back at each other's throats.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to suggest … it's just, if we do the test and we find out that I'm not his father, then you wouldn't even need to tell him."
Sharon was surprised. That was something she hadn't expected from Andy. She smiled, despite herself, and for the second time in the past fifteen minutes. "Andy, I have no doubt the test will show you are Ricky's biological father."
Her sentence hung there between them for a moment, full of meaning. No doubt. She knew. She had always known.
Andy's heart made a little jump: she had called him Andy, she had actually used his first name! "So Ricky is our son. A midsummer night's child."
Sharon nodded, her throat suddenly constricting.
"How much time do you need?"
"What?"
"How much time do you need to prepare Ricky? Sharon, I'm not some monster, I'm his father and I want to meet my son, but I'm not going to just push this on him. You're his mum, you've raised him all his life and … I trust you when you tell me you need time to prepare him."
Sharon nodded, "I don't know. It's not like I've done this before. Can …" she took a deep breath. "Can I call you when we're ready? When Ricky has made up his mind about meeting you?"
Now it was Andy's turn to take a deep breath. "Thank you, Sharon. Thank you for giving me a chance to meet my son."
"Let me be very clear about this, Lieutenant Flynn." The sudden coldness in her look chilled him through to the bone. "I am going to talk to my son, but the choice is his, and I am certainly not going to encourage him to meet with you."
