CHAPTER 9

On Christmas Eve, Sharon was scheduled to work for a few hours in the morning. She double timed it to her office and said a quick hello to Tao and Provenza who were the only ones in. She kept her sunglasses on and hoped that she could mostly avoid her co-workers. In her office, the first thing that she noticed was a large white box on her desk tied with red ribbon. Opening up the box and underneath a couple of layers of tissue paper were a pair of Manolo Blahnik black pointy toe pumps. There was a little card inside shaped like a white flag and one word was written on it: Truce.

With a hearty laugh, Sharon opened up her door and called Provenza in. "I see you got your Christmas gift," he said.

"Lieutenant Provenza," she said, "Thank you. While I appreciate the gesture, I can't accept a pair of $500.00 shoes. I've gotten all of the gum off. It's a wash. I do, however, think a truce is in order."

Provenza's eyes widened when she mentioned the figure for the shoes. "Are you sure you got both cards? Maybe you should have a closer look without those sunglasses."

"I have a migraine," lied Sharon. But she looked in the box and found another little card wedged in one corner. It read, Manoco Blarnik BK PT $25.00. She looked up at Provenza who was grinning.

"I whittled the lady down at the Big Flea to $15.00 Are you sure about that truce, Captain?"

"It's the holiday season. What the hell?" Sharon shrugged her shoulders at him. "Merry Christmas, Lieutenant," she said warmly.

"Merry Christmas, Captain."


Sharon was just packing up the last few items for the car with Rusty in preparation for their two hour drive to San Diego when her cell phone rang. It was Samantha.

"Hello, Samantha," said Sharon.

"Hey, darlin'. I just wanted you to remind Rusty to bring a bathing suit. Even if it's a little cool, you know the pool's heated."

"Already done. "

"Don't bring a dress. I have something for you to wear tonight."

"Samantha, you didn't have to—"

"Oh shut up. I have more money than God. I like to splurge." Husband Number 3 had left an already wealthy Samantha with a very sizeable inheritance. Unfortunately, he had been the love of her sister's life, passing just before his 39th birthday in a skiing accident. Samantha didn't marry for money—she didn't need to. Sharon's eccentric sister married so often because she loved the idea of being in love and she loved to plan weddings; neither were really the best reasons to tie the knot but Sam was Sam. Oddly enough, Samantha was friendly with all but one of her four exes. Last year she told Sharon that she wanted to get married just one more time because six is such a "nice round number." A maid of honor five times already, Sharon dearly hoped that her sister changed her mind.

"Sam, my closet is already bursting at the seams—not that I don't appreciate it."

"Then smile gracefully, say thank you, and accept it with the spirit of joy with which it is intended."

"All right—thank you," Sharon said between clenched teeth, "Can you hear the smile?"

"You're such a smart ass," Samantha said good naturedly. "Good, now that we've settled that, let me say hello to Rusty."

"All right," replied Sharon. "But don't corrupt him. "Rusty, my sister Samantha wants to say hello to you." He was plugging the GPS for their trip into the car charger. Sharon handed him the phone.

"Hello, Rusty!" Samantha sang into the phone. "I can't wait to meet you, honey. Can my sister hear me?"

Rusty looked a little uncomfortable. "Uh no…"

"Excellent. Now listen, this is important. I have a little mission for you. I need you to get Andy Flynn's phone number for me but you can't let Sharon know. She's quite fond of Mr. Flynn and I'd like to invite him to the party and surprise her."

Rusty liked Lieutenant Flynn. He had never really considered the idea of him and Sharon as a couple. They were always so professional around one another. But Flynn was the kind of decent guy that Sharon deserved. The more Rusty thought about it, the more it dawned upon him that they did seem to look at one another an awful lot. And Flynn had invited him and Sharon over for dessert on Christmas…

"Rusty?" prompted Samantha.

"Sure, Samantha," Rusty said, glancing at Sharon. "Do you want to talk to Sharon again?"

"No…and thank you!"

"Rusty, I'm going to bring this dress back inside and we'll go. Need me to grab anything for you when I go back in?" asked Sharon as she unhooked her dress from the hook in the backseat.

"No, I'm all set." Sharon walked back toward the apartment, leaving her cell phone with Rusty. It was the perfect opportunity. He went into her contact list, found Flynn's cell phone number, memorized it, and quickly called Samantha back with the requested information.

Getting in touch with Andy Flynn was easy. He answered the phone on Samantha's first try.

"Flynn."

"Hi," said Samantha brightly, "this is Samantha Leary. I'm Sharon Raydor's sister. I'm calling to invite you to a Christmas Eve party at my home tonight. Sharon will be there, of course. I realize that you might not be able to make it with other family obligations but I wanted to extend an invitation anyway. Wear whatever you want. A lot of people go black tie but a lot don't. We have a blast. Hor d'oeuvres and desserts. Starts at 8. We party half the night so even if you want to come late, you'd me more than welcome. You can spend the night if you'd like, too." Samantha gave him her address.

"Thanks….that's very nice of you to offer. Is Sharon all right?"

"She's fine. But I think she'd be a lot more fine if you'd come, Mr. Flynn."

"Andy," he corrected.

"Andy," Samantha agreed. "Either Sam or Samantha is fine for me. I'm sure you're wondering why the invitation didn't come from Sharon. She doesn't know that I've called you and she'll probably be furious with me for this but that's never stopped me before." Samantha laughed. "The reason for my invitation is simple. Sharon really likes you. It's been a long time since I've seen her truly happy and I think your presence would be a definite boost. There's no pressure. Either way, I definitely want to meet you—either now or later."

"I'm going to my daughter's but I could be in San Diego by about midnight…."

"That's fine; I'll make sure my little sister doesn't turn into a pumpkin. You'll have a great time. I hope you can make it. And Andy—don't say a word to Sharon."

"Got it."

"I knew I liked you. See you soon, Andy."


Rusty hesitated as the GPS told him to turn left in what looked like a very private driveway.

"This is it, kiddo," Sharon told him with a little smile. The drive turned out to be nearly a quarter of a mile long and ended at a gate, complete with buzzer, camera, and speaker. Rusty looked a little panicked and turned to Sharon.

"Just hit the little black button," instructed Sharon. She leaned over the seat as he did and waved at the camera. The gate swung open and Rusty drove through.

"This is really nice," said Rusty.

"Samantha doesn't do things halfway."

"Did you grow up here?" Rusty asked curiously.

"You can park over there," Sharon instructed, motioning to a spot a little beyond the wide circular drive.

"No. This is all Sam's. You look nervous." Sharon patted his arm and gave him a reassuring smile. "Don't be."

Samantha opened the door and ran down the steps waving madly at them. She was a platinum blonde version of Sharon in a pale blue sweater and jeans. Her hair was cut in the short waves of Marilyn Monroe and she wore the actress' trademark red lipstick. With a shriek, she threw her arms around Sharon and gave her a huge hug.

"Oxygen would be nice," wheezed Sharon. But it was clear that she was very glad to see her sister.

Sam hugged Rusty next. "Aren't you adorable?" she said enthusiastically. "Welcome!" She turned back to Sharon. "Let me look at you." She took in Sharon's perfectly pressed gray Armani suit and white blouse. Not a hair was out of place. Sharon was, as always, impeccable. Next, Samantha gently took off Sharon's sunglasses and she looked at her twin's bruised face without making a sound.

"It's not the first time I've been clobbered in the face and it probably won't be the last; it comes with the job of being a cop," Sharon said lightly. Sam put an arm around Sharon and another around Rusty and walked them into the house, chattering about how her make-up artist friend would take care of it. But inside she was seething and would have gladly cleaved Richard Raydor in two.

"Rusty, let me show you around the house and to your room. Shar, Kate and Ryan are in the sun room if you want to chat with them," she said meaningfully.

"Thanks, Sam." Sharon took Rusty's hand and gave it a squeeze. "I'll catch up with you in a bit, okay?"

Sharon put her sunglasses in her purse and headed to the sun room. She took a deep breath, released the air, and walked in. Ryan was sitting on the sofa next to his wife, a petite blue-eyed brunette named Elle. Sharon could still recall Elle's short spiky hair, thick black eyeliner and Goth days. Elle was an artist and now illustrated children's books. She'd known Ryan since they were teenagers and even with all the piercings and the heavy black makeup, which she'd long ago given up, Elle had always been a complete sweetheart. She was the kind of girl every mother hoped their son would wed and when Ryan married her three years ago, Sharon couldn't have been more pleased. Kate stood across from them in a pale yellow top and white skirt.

Ryan's face lit up when he saw his mother and darkened when he saw her black and blue eye.

"Hey, Mom." Ryan hugged her, rocking her back and forth. Sharon gave her son a kiss on the cheek. Elle hugged her mother-in-law next, kissing the uninjured side of Sharon's face. Kate just looked at her mother but didn't move, and it was Sharon who went over to her and hugged her daughter.

"Merry Christmas," said Sharon.

"Mom, were you decking some bad guys and forgetting to duck?" her son teased lightly but his brow was creased with worry.

"Something like that," Sharon answered vaguely. "Look, why don't we all sit?"

Everyone sat except Kate who remained rigidly in her original position. Ryan and Elle sat on the sofa and made room for Sharon in between them.

"Aunt Samantha said that you wanted to talk to us before we all got ready for the party," began Ryan. "Is everything okay, Mom?"

"Dad's not coming," interjected Kate. "He called me on his cell phone and said he couldn't make it." Despite Sharon and Richard's differences, Samantha had always extended an invitation to him. Richard and Sharon would arrive separately, of course, and they were always civil. That way Ryan and Kate could see both of their parents on Christmas Eve. Ryan gave his sister a warning look.

"Damn it, Kate, you promised you wouldn't do this," Ryan cautioned his twin.

"Your father called you?" Sharon asked. She was genuinely surprised. Richard wasn't supposed to have contact with the family for the first couple of weeks at the rehab center. That's why Sharon had been asked to talk to the kids to let them know about Richard's whereabouts. If Richard had called Kate, it meant one thing.

He wasn't in rehab anymore.

"Yes, he called me. He was very upset," continued Kate. "He said that he and Mom had an argument." She turned to her mother, eyes flashing. "He went to see you to pick up some suits from your apartment and you were entertaining some guy in your nightgown—"

"Kate!" Ryan exclaimed. "She's a grown woman and they've been separated for over thirteen years, for God's sake. "Let's not pretend that Dad hasn't had girlfriends."

"But at least he warns her. That's a lot different than coming in and suddenly seeing your wife with another guy."

"Listen to yourself. You're being completely irrational and ridiculous!," Ryan exclaimed.

"I don't want you two arguing," Sharon interrupted calmly. "I will explain what happened." She looked at Kate. "I will not defend myself. But I will describe the events of the evening and put things in perspective.

First of all, your father and I are getting a divorce but you both already know that. We've been living separate lives for the past thirteen years. It was mutually understood that we could, if we wanted to, see other people without having to explain to the other person.

I went to a Christmas party Friday night with a friend from work and yes, he was with me in the morning when your father arrived. His name is Andy Flynn and I've known him for the past five years but we've only become close very recently. He's in my life and I hope he chooses to continue to be in it in the time to come."

Sharon continued the story and explained that Richard had been high on cocaine and had been drinking. She also explained that he was responsible for her bruised face. She distanced herself from the situation and simply recounted facts, as she would in a case—somehow, it made the telling easier.

"Your father checked into drug rehab." Sharon pulled a little notepad out of her purse and ripped off the first page, handing it to her son. "The information for the facility is there. I'm not sure what his status is, though, if he was calling Kate. I'm sorry. I know that this is terrible news to deliver to you on Christmas Eve but you needed to know."

Ryan was holding Sharon's hand. He'd interlaced his fingers through hers sometime during the moments when she was explaining what had happened. Kate was looking straight ahead, not saying anything.

"I can't believe he hit you," Ryan said angrily.

"I think it was the drugs talking," said Sharon.

"That's very generous of you, Mom," Kate spat and stormed out of the room.

There was an uncomfortable silence. "Ryan, why don't you give the facility a call and check on your dad's status," Elle suggested.

"Yeah, let me do that." He kissed his wife on the cheek and went to make the call.

Elle leaned toward Sharon. "Don't mind Kate. She and Patrick broke up a couple of days ago. I don't think she's really angry at you."

Sharon fidgeted with the buttons on her jacket. "It wasn't always like this with Kate and me. I don't know. Somewhere along the way this division happened. Kate and her dad. Me and Ryan." She rubbed her face in her hand. "I don't know."

Ryan came back in the room. "Okay….the bad news is that dad did start the process of checking out of rehab which is when he must have called Kate. The good news is that one of the counselors talked with him and he's back. We can't contact him for two weeks but they will call me if he checks out."

"Oh, honey, I'm so, so sorry about all of this."

"Don't be sorry, Mom. It's not your fault."

"I'm going to go find Kate," Sharon said.

Sharon had always wanted to protect her kids; it's the natural instinct of a mother. She'd downplayed Richard's antics during the marriage. She'd known about the gambling but she'd often looked the other way-a lot more than she should have. Was the drug use new? Sharon wondered. Is it possible that she just hadn't noticed? He hadn't been a very good husband but the one thing she had to say about him was that he cared about his kids. At his best he was vibrant, funny, and fun to be around. At his worst, like recently, he could be manipulative and vindictive.

Sharon found Kate walking down the hallway. "I was looking for you," Kate told her mother when she saw her. "I'm sorry for the things that I said to you earlier. I didn't mean them. Not really."

"It's okay. Your father is back in rehab. Ryan just checked in with the rehab center."

Kate nodded. "That's good." She promptly burst into tears.

"Oh, Kate…." Sharon reached for her daughter and Kate allowed her mother to embrace her, crying against her shoulder. "I don't know why I'm having such a hard time with all of this."

"It isn't an easy thing," Sharon said sympathetically. "You've been hit with a lot all at once. The next couple of weeks will be critical for your dad but I'll always be here for you, Kate. You know that. No matter what is happening between me and your father. If you want to come stay with me in L.A. for a while, you know the invitation is always there."

"Is Rusty staying with you?"

"Only when he's not in college. I love Rusty, Kate, and I won't apologize for it. Love isn't like a cup of sugar or a pound of flour. You can't measure it and it doesn't run out. I don't love you or your brother any less because I love Rusty, too. This problem that your dad has…it's his problem, honey. You didn't cause it. I didn't cause it. And you can be there in the background to be supportive if you choose to. But it is not your responsibility to fix. Only your dad can do that. The good news as that your dad's problem is out in the open; I really had no idea that he had a drug habit. But at least now he can face it and hopefully stay on the road to recovery."

Kate continued to cry quietly on her mother's shoulder. Sharon held her until her tears subsided and she was quiet. "I'm not sure if I'm up for this party," Kate sniffled.

"Let's not go then. We'll break out the Ben & Jerry's, stay in our pajamas, and spend the night watching Christmas specials." It was something Sharon and Kate used to do a lot when she was a little girl, eat ice dream and watch a marathon of holiday shows.

"You'd give up the party for me?"

"Of course I would." Whatever you need." Sharon pulled a couple of neatly folded Kleenex out of her purse and handed them to her daughter who dabbed her eyes.

Kate shook her head. "No…no….it's Christmas Eve," Kate said. "Aunt Samantha puts on a pretty great party. Lots of eligible bachelors. Maybe I'll at least get a one night stand out of the deal."

"As your mother, I am going to pretend that I didn't hear that."

Sharon checked on Rusty. He had found Ryan and Elle and the three of them were playing Wii Sports in Samantha's game room. Ryan had been comfortable with Rusty from the start and Sharon was thrilled to see them having a good time together.

"Play with us, Sharon," coaxed Elle. "Let's show these boys what real women are made of!" She tossed Sharon a Wii mote. Sharon caught it without missing a beat with one hand.

"I'm game," laughed Sharon. "But in a half hour we really should start getting ready."

"That's my mother," teased Ryan. "Our little planner."

"Your mother and I are going to wipe the floor with you boys," Elle sang.

"Oh, bring it on ladies!" Ryan grinned.


Back in L.A. Andy Flynn was just arriving at his daughter's house to spend Christmas Eve with her, her husband, and his grandchildren. As he hung his leather jacket up in the hall closet, he wondered how Sharon had made out talking to her children about the situation with their father. He was putting his car keys in the right pocket of the jacket when his fingertips touched a piece of silky, diaphanous fabric. He pulled Sharon's scarf out of the pocket-the black and burgundy one that she'd left at his house a week ago. He had folded it and put it in his pocket to bring to her at work but he had completely forgotten about it and hadn't worn the jacket for several days. The familiar soft white floral scent of her perfume still lingered faintly in the fabric just the way she lingered in his mind-only not so faintly.