Maura waits in line, at the cafe, for her cup of tea. Finally she reaches the front of the line. Angela has her freshly brewed cup ready for her. She yawns, as the hands the cup to Maura.

"Is Frankie talking to you yet?" Maura questions.

"He's already over it."

"You told him yesterday, and he's over it?" Maura raises an eyebrow.

"Jane is the one who doesn't seem to want to talk to me," Angela answers.

"She'll get over it."

"I certainly hope so," Angela agrees, yawning again.

"Are you feeling alright?" Maura quizzes.

"I'm fine, just a little bit tired."

"Ok," Maura nods, leaving the cafe. On her elevator ride to the morgue she thinks about the previous day's dinner.


Sunday dinner-

There are six people, gathered around Angela's dining room table. They look around the room, in silence. Jane stares at her lieutenant. Frankie fixates on his mother. Tommy's eyes remain focused on the lasagna she's placing on the table.

Frankie speaks up, before Angela can cut the lasagna.

"Ma? Can you explain to me, why we're having Sunday dinner at the lieutenant's house?"

Sean looks at Angela. She exhales, and nods. Before either of them can open their mouths to explain, Jane begins speaking.

"Frankie, our mother went behind our back," she explains.

"What are you talking about?" he questions.

"She, and the Lieutenant have been married, for six months. They have been living together for that long, as well. They eloped, and didn't tell us. We were not invited to participate," she rants.

"Jane," Maura looks at her, sternly, "it's not your news to tell."

Frankie looks at his mother, in disappointment, "Ma, is what she said true?"

Before Angela can get a word in, Jane interrupts, "She's wearing a ring, moron," she points.

Sean turns about eighteen shades of red, clearly angry. He stands up. He turns to his wife.

"Sorry, Angie," he apologizes, in advance.

Angela nods.

"Jane, thank you for coming, but you need to go now. You can't come into my home, and disrespect my wife. You are welcome to come back, some other time, when you have a better attitude."

"She's my mother," Jane tells him, and then turns her Angela, "Ma, are you going to let him do this?"

"I think you should go," Angela answers.

Jane pushes her chair out. She stomps as she storms out of the house.


Jane sits at her desk, in silence. She stares at the back of her partner's computer monitor. She wears a sour look on her face. Her arms are folded across her chest.

"Jane?"

She doesn't respond.

"Jane," Barry repeats.

She looks up, making eye contact, "What?"

"Are you ok?" He queries.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because you have been in a shitty mood for days. I don't really care about your personal problems, but the attitude has to stop, so spill."

"That is a little harsh," Jane points out.

"What's wrong with you? You've been going off on everybody. You get upset over the littlest things. Are you PMS-ing, or something?

She clenches her jaw, and her nostrils flare, "No I am not."

"So what gives?"

"My mother."

"What did she do?"

"Got married," Jane grits her teeth.

"Good for her," he comments.

"Good for her? That's all you have to say? Good for her?"

"I hope that she's happy," he adds.

"She eloped," Jane adds.

"I know."

"You know? How do you know?"

"There wasn't a wedding," he points out.

"I can't believe that she got married."

"I can. Heaven forbid that she gets to be happy, or move on with her life."

"Don't feed me that crock of shit."

"That is what you told Frankie, a while back."

"Don't use my own words against me," Jane insists.

"Why are you so pissed that she got married? Are you jealous?"

Jane furrows her brow, "No."

"Then why do you dislike it, so much?"

"Because she married my boss. How would you like it, it your mother married your boss?"

"I wouldn't care."

"Not to mention, on Sunday we had dinner, at their house."

"I am guessing that it was awkward."

Jane shrugs, "Maybe. I got kicked out within ten minutes of arriving."

"I think that you need to go to the gym," he suggests.

"Are you saying that I look fat?" she responds defensively.

"No," he shakes his head, "You need to do something to get out your anger. Hit something, and preferably not me."

"Why is everyone taking her side?"

"Why aren't you?" he retorts, "She's your mother."

"He's my boss."

"Jane, let it go," he insists.

"Why aren't you surprised?" she asks.

"That you're angry? I know you, that's why."

"No," she shakes her head, "Why aren't you surprised that my mother got married?"

"I am more observant than you are."

"No, you're not," she argues.

"The lieutenant has been wearing a wedding band for months now."

"I guess I didn't notice that."

"Who else would he marry?"

Jane shrugs, "I don't know."