Bruce went directly home after work, still thinking about his encounter with David McClaren. Ever since he'd first heard of the guy, something rubbed him the wrong way. He knew that he was a good judge of character, but he also knew that he couldn't interfere with Judge Gray's love life without risking their friendship, which he greatly valued. It was difficult, therefore, to watch her leave and know that David McClaren probably had something to do with the reason why. Trying to put those thoughts out of his mind, he looked forward to getting home to Rebecca, his daughter. She was the same age as Lauren, but this wasn't a big topic of conversation when he and Judge Gray were together. Keeping his professional distance had also meant glossing over parts of his life that she could possibly help him with, or at least help him understand more. Pre-teen girls were hard to deal with.
As soon as he got out of his car and looked up at the windows of his apartment he was in a bad mood. There were no lights on, which meant that Rebecca had decided to go to a friend's house and had probably gotten her Aunt Winnie's permission. Winnie, of course, had neglected to let him know about it. Sighing, Bruce got changed, left a note incase Rebecca came home for anything and went to a local court to shoot some hoops. There was so much frustration circling around him that he knew exercise would be the best way to alleviate some of his aggression.
Whenever an ambulance buzzed by the court, Bruce couldn't help looking up, hoping that his daughter wasn't in the back of it. He knew that because of Rebecca's epilepsy she was especially likely to find her way into a hospital bed, and it wasn't something that would change too much with age. The doctors had never told him much about why this happened, or really whose genetic fault it was. Somehow he always blamed himself. All part of that Catholic guilt that he prided himself on; that he lived by. His religion was something that was very important to him, but also something that he knew would always keep him from having any sort of meaningful relationship with Judge Gray. She couldn't understand why he felt the way he did and he was generally at a loss when trying to explain it to her. There was no easy way to describe his feelings about his beliefs, just as there was no real way to overcome the racial barrier between them. All of these thoughts floating through his head made for some very poor shooting, yet he continued. Finally, he called it a night and packed up his gear, heading for his car and deciding what to have for dinner.
For the fifth time in the 3 minutes since Vincent had left the theater, Peter checked to make sure his phone was on, and that he hadn't missed a call. Little attention was being paid to the movie he had once been so eager to see, and after checking his phone 5 more times, he excused himself and squeezed past Lauren. Pacing back and forth in the lobby, staring at the phone, he tried to will it to ring to no avail. Walking back in, he scooted past Lauren again and sat down, quickly checking his phone. He couldn't shake the words of his mother, 'It's Amy…', and hoped that everything was okay. He was a natural born worrier, and when it came to his family Peter was especially sensitive. Amy was his little sister, and while she wasn't always the easiest person to get along with, he would always feel some inherent need to protect her from the outside world.
Lauren looked over at her uncle with a scowl on her face. All she wanted to do was enjoy the movie, and so far she'd been embarrassed and blocked from seeing it. Why was it so hard for her family to do a relatively simple activity like watching a movie without chaos? Spinning around sharply towards Peter she whispered, "Uncle Peter, quit it!" and was relieved to see him put the phone in his pocket. The feeling of relief was short lived as a minute later; Peter pulled the phone out again. Rolling her eyes, she stared up at the screen, praying he wouldn't make a scene.
Folding her arms over again, she put her feet up on the seat in front of her in an effort to prevent Peter from getting up and blocking her and everyone else's view. It wasn't long before Lauren found herself the victim of many shushes and stares as Peter kept opening and closing his cell. This not only caused a distraction with the clicking sound it made by being closed, but the light that came on was taking away from a movie which was beginning to get really exciting. Letting out a small whimper, Lauren scooted down further in her seat, face bright red.
Peter was barely aware of the fact that people found his constant checking of his cell annoying and continued, despite the looks and warnings he received from Lauren. Twenty minutes had soon passed and he knew that Vincent must be home by then, probably taking care of the whole situation. When no calls came ten minutes later, he was exasperated and could sit still no longer. Lauren was visibly upset and humiliated; she readily agreed to go into the lobby, not knowing that they wouldn't be returning for the rest of the movie.
"Uncle Peter! What is with you? I thought you wanted to see this movie!" Lauren cried. Now, not only had she been humiliated, but she probably wouldn't get to go skiing with Taylor if they went home and made a lot of noise. Pulling her jacket on was an after-thought as Peter pulled her outside towards the parking lot. "Uncle Peter? We don't have the car keys anymore, remember? Vincent took them."
"Damnit!" Peter exclaimed as he pulled Lauren back inside with him. He'd have no other choice but to call Gillian, knowing full well that it would mean bundling the boys up and take at least 20 minutes for her to get here. His main concern was to try not to worry Lauren, but he knew he wasn't doing a very good job of that as worry was written all over his face. "I'll get us a ride home, don't worry about a thing."
"Is something going on you don't want me to know about?" Lauren asked cautiously, suddenly concerned with why Vincent had left in such a hurry, "Is everything okay?"
"Yah, I'm sure everything's just fine Lauren, don't worry about a thing." He lied, trying to protect his 12 year old niece from the truth; whatever the truth was.
Lauren looked into his eyes, trying to get a sense of what he really meant, but was startled when a horn honked across the parking lot. She knew she had no real choice but to have faith in her Uncle, but it didn't mean she wouldn't worry. Something was going on, and she was definitely old enough to know about it, wasn't she?
"Hi, Gillian… it's me… Peter! Look, Lauren and I really need a ride home from the movies. Yes we took the car here… no, Gillian… no… Vincent has the car right now. I'll explain later, okay?" he spoke quickly, away from Lauren, so that she wouldn't hear what he said. "Okay, see you in 15 minutes, thanks. She'll be here soon."
"Okay," Lauren said, nodding her head. Shivering a little, she sat down on a bench and texted her friends while she waited, wondering about what was happening and what it would mean for her.
