'You forgot to get some lunch'
Angela's voice echoed in the basement of the Boston Police Department headquarters. Jane was sitting on the floor, looking through a box of old case files. She didn't really bother to look up to answer.
'I wasn't really hungry and I am not eleven years old anymore.' She kept going through the files until one caught her attention.
'I bought you the last chili con carne, but someone else will be happy to have it.'
'Wait, Ma... I'm sorry.' She wiped her eyes with one hand to get a quick rest 'I didn't mean to be an ass'
Angela saw the bags under her eyes, but made a point not to bring it up; knowing how little it took for Jane to be pushed away. That made her concern grow. She took a seat on the chair in front of her daughter.
'I know you and Maura weren't talking much, but you can't tell me it took you by surprise, Jane.'
'Took me by surprise? Maura's 'Assholes Without Borders' boyfriend leaving them to go back to Ethiopia when he was done playing families?'
Angela opened her mouth to say something, but the Detective was faster 'Let's just say he had a bit of a reputation for doing precisely that; so no, I'm not surprised'
The ceiling light flickered for a moment and she stood to reach for the last box she needed to look through and went back to her sitting position on the floor.
'Fuck. She has two kids to take care of now' Jane sighed
Her mother gave her a knowing look.
Jane thought about TJ, and how she had helped around with him. Some visits to the doctor, a couple of colds and tummy bugs and a handful of sleepless nights. Yet she could only begin to understand what it would be like for Maura to raise her kids by herself.
'I want to be there for her' If she wants me to - she wanted to add 'Maura doesn't deserve this.' But for some reason she didn't.
Angela only smiled and touched her hair in the lightest way.
'I always knew I raised you well, Janie'
With that she left her daughter feeling a bit surer of herself.
Maura fidgeted with the folded piece of paper as she sat on her home office.
She had dropped Abdi at school at eight. He seemed very happy to meet his friends again after the Easter break and it was the only thing he would talk about in the car while Maura drove them. She listened patiently and submerged in a world where daily problems took a different shape and size. Like, Am I allowed ice- cream after dinner?, or Lucas says I'm three, but I'm really four, mom.
She pulled the curtains and opened the bay windows in her studio and the sound of two birds chirping filled the spacious room. Maura looked at the cherry tree in the back patio, bursting with white and pink flowers.
Her mother had offered to take Lola for the morning so she could have some quiet time for herself but her own mind working seemed to be winning the war to quietness
Maura picked up the loose paper again and looked at the telephone number her father had scribbled there the last time he had visited and considered her possibilities. Something she had been postponing thanks to a series of more or less intricate excuses: beds to be made, a car to repair and messes to clean up.
She could call the number; get a position that would allow her to be home for Lola and Abdi. To be able to see them grow as well as doing something she loved for a living.
Settle down, professionally, in France; something she had neglected to do so far.
She knew the clinic could really use her help; but she ditched that line of thought –she had promised herself she would stop doing things just because someone else needed her to do them.
There was a knock on the door and she opened it absentmindedly to find her father standing there with a tennis racket in one hand and a bottle of red wine in the other. He gave Maura a kiss on the cheek and handed her the bottle.
'I was going through the cellar the other day and I thought you might like to have this'
She looked at the date printed on the dark blue an golden label.
'That's very thoughtful; thank you.'
She indicated for Richard to come inside and he did.
'Are you settling okay?'
'We're settling all right, Dad.' Maura pointed to the espresso machine and her father gave her a nod.
'The kids really like the house. They have more space to just be kids here and Paris is just half an hour away if we want to spend time there'
He let finish, watching attentively as Maura opened kitchen drawers to get a couple of spoons and sugar.
When Maura had prepared the coffee, he walked to the sofa holding both drinks. Maura followed with a small jug of milk
'I was asking about you, Maura. I know the kids are okay. '
She gave him a confused look.
'Just now.'
'Oh.' She smiled automatically 'Did Mother tell you about Ian and I?' Maura lowered her eyes and asked, although she knew it was unnecessary. Her father just nodded and took her hand, and Maura blushed slightly at the gesture. Like that, she didn't feel like an adult in her early forties and she grew uncomfortable.
'I'm thinking about my possibilities' she took a sip of coffee and the strong flavor filled her with a new wave of calmness. 'I need to make a decision sooner or later' She said; more to herself than anyone else.
'I know anything we tell you won't be much help, Maura. And you have been making your own decisions since you were ten.'
There was pride in her father's voice, but Maura laughed with sadness at the memories of her childhood.
'But do you remember when I joined you and your mother in Boston?' Richard let go of Maura's hand.
'For the Du Pont retrospective? I remember, yes.'
'Remember when you took us to eat hamburgers, with your friend, the Detective.?'
Jane.
'Jane.' Her voice came out broken, threatening with tears, and it caught her by surprise.
'I haven't seen you so happy since then, Maura.'
She couldn't contain her tears as her father held her.
When Angela returned to work she had to sit for a minute because her legs were shaking.
She hadn't noticed at first, but when she bent down to close the dishwasher, she was slightly trembling and had to help herself up again with a steady hand resting on the countertop.
She had seen concern in her daughter's eyes for the first time in years. And it was strange, she thought, how she had grown accustomed to see Jane in cop mode most of the time.
When she came to think about it she hadn't helped with her endless insistence; urging her daughter to find someone – a husband, someone who would take care of her.
Perhaps Jane could be the one taking care of someone.
Perhaps there could be space for both in Jane's life. To take care, to be taken care of.
Angela had seen concern in her daughter's eyes; and definitely love.
She had inkling she would be seeing more of it in the near future.
And she was more than okay with that.
Thanks for reading! More coming soon :)
