Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Emergency or any of its characters. I promise to return them unharmed when my imagination is finished with 'em.
Forgiveness Factor
Written by: Kianda
Chapter Ten
With his feet braced against the edge of the coffee table, Johnny settled back into the couch with a weary sigh. The tight band of tension holding his muscles hostage loosened as he relaxed; diminishing the headache still present. Taking a lengthy drink from the cold brew in his hand, he closed his eyes appreciating the tranquility. As he continued to unwind, his mind played back the evening's events. All things considered it went smoothly. Under Roy and Joanne's friendly hospitality everyone remained at ease. Inviting his sister to spend the night was considerate, and would be fun for the girls. As he concentrated on his father, he absently rubbed his achy forehead. His comfortable level around him had altered little, and he wondered if he would ever loose the cagey feeling within close proximity of the man.
Thoughts continued to tumble over themselves.
Cap invited them for lunch at the station tomorrow. Dixie mentioned wanting to meet his family so he had plans to head to Rampart. He hadn't given Dixie an answer yet about attending her New Years Eve party. Wednesday was his families last full day and night in California before heading back to Montana. His intention to to hook up with the DeSoto's at Fun Land, with Lisa and Ryan, was still on. His father and stepmother wouldn't be accompanying them to the arcade. A half-smile formed as he recalled Liz's explanation. "Shopping is more our speed. Not that were old, mind you, we'll just leave the gaming to those who know how to play them."
The ringing of the phone jarred the stillness, intruding into his thoughts.
"Hello John." The voice on the other end belonged to his father.
"Is every—"
"We're fine," he said getting straight to the point. "Will you join me for breakfast tomorrow? We can go anywhere you like; I'd appreciate the chance to talk with you."
His father's request wasn't unexpected. Johnny had the feeling yesterday, his father wanted to say more than he did, and today they really hadn't had the opportunity to be alone. "What about Liz?"
"Liz says she has no desire rising early. I figure with Lisa being picked up later in the morning, we have the time."
Johnny suspected Liz was keeping out of the way, giving them the chance to be alone. He agreed to the request. "I'll meet you in the lobby tomorrow morning at seven-thirty."
"See you then."
— — —
In another part of town, Max sat hunched over a barstool within the smoky and dimly lit environment of his favorite hole in the wall. Two other 'regulars' shared the bar with him. Both nursed drinks, looking exactly the same way—miserable. In front of him and still untouched rested his drink of choice tonight, a beer-chaser.
This wasn't the first time he found himself at the bar tending a duel mixture of contemplation, but the reason behind this visit, was. Linda ought to have kept this information to herself, he thought crossly. Damn if she had, his notion of right and wrong wouldn't be in an uproar. Telling him because she was worried about the situation, he understood, but he had a sneaking suspicion she told him for another reason. What exactly Linda thought he could do about it he hadn't figured out yet. He tried to convince himself it wasn't his business, but when Linda told him what his sister was planning, his first reaction was one of surprise, and then unease. When Linda went on to say Margery didn't want her help, that she could handle her husband, he debated whether to take what he knew to Rodger first. He squashed the idea. This problem was between Margery and Rodger. As he sat chewing over the potential complications this unfolding situation could bring, his right hand strayed to the shot glass in front of him. Abstractedly using his thumb and two fingers he began rotating the glass. A portion of the liquid spilled over the top to pond against the smooth surface of the bar. The soft distinctly rich aroma of bourbon wafted toward his nose treating it to the light scent of vanilla and caramel. Realizing what he had just done, he released the glass and used a napkin resting near his beer to blot up the mess.
He sighed, and his face took on a scowl. Rodger would hardly see this coming. A few weeks out of the joint wasn't time for him to adjust, and to have this situation about to be thrust at him, and the holidays not yet over, didn't seem fair somehow. While he applauded Margery for her pluck, her timing stank. It appeared these last six months changed his sister, made her stronger. Feeling any sympathy for Rodger was foolish, hardheaded and heavy-handed, the man had made his own bed, and had it coming. On the other side of the coin a long history existed between them, and they were related by marriage.
Everything shouted at him to walk way, but Margery was his sister, Rodger his friend, and both could use his help. Ryan too would need support. He came up with the only decision that calmed his warring principles. He would try to talk with Margery before she presented Rodger with her 'little' present. He wondered what kind of reception he would receive.
"Say Max?" The bartender broke through his musings, lifting an ashtray to swipe underneath it with a wet rag, "are you going to drink that? Or are you planning on beating it up."
Max glanced up and sneered, "Sometimes Joe, you can be a real wise-ass." Reaching for the shot glass, he quickly downed the heady libation and 'chased' it with his beer. Sliding his empty shot glass toward the inquisitive bar tender, he indicated he wanted another.
Joe flipped the rag he was using over his shoulder and snatched up the glass. He reached under the bar, bringing up the desired bottle of bourbon the turkey on the label distinct, and replenished the empty glass. "Doing some heavy thinking tonight, are you?"
"What's it to you?"
"Nothing Max," Joe shrugged. "Just making an observation is all. You looked troubled, and I'm not used to seeing you here during the week."
"Yeah, well," he lifted the shot glass up to eye level turning it to catch the light, seemingly fascinated by it. "You don't have the family I've got." With that statement, he kicked back the shot and drained his beer. He placed money on the bar, and stood.
"Take it easy friend," Joe said, picking up the money and wiping the bar clean.
— — —
Tuesday morning, Joanne sat alone at the kitchen table with an almost empty cup of tea in front of her. Having seen Roy off to work some time ago, she had already prepared the children's breakfast, which sat warming in the oven; she now waited on the kids to make their way downstairs. Usually early risers, she hadn't heard any stirrings from upstairs yet. It was strange to be home during the kid's entire Christmas break. As a rule, she would spend at least a week or more visiting her mother. The visit provided an opportunity for the kids to spend time with their grandmother, and spared her husband the stress of having to deal with her mother. Even though Roy went out of his way to avoid confrontation when they were together, for whatever reason, her mother needled Roy on a galactic scale. The friction this caused inevitably spilled onto the two of them because she felt the need to defend her mother. As a way to appease her mother, keep her marriage free from pointless arguments, and to save Roy's sanity, she had thought up this arrangement. Because her mother's holiday travel plans negated her visit with her grandchildren, Joanne could expect a future call from her mother wanting to arrange her stay. Poor Roy, her husband would turn miserable at the mere hint of her mother wanting to visit.
The sound of feet tromping down the stairs had her looking toward the kitchen doorway. The girls traipsed into the room.
"Morning, Mommy," Jennifer greeted.
"Good morning, Mrs. DeSoto," Lisa said.
"Good morning girls, I didn't think you were awake yet, you were so quiet. Did you sleep well?" The two had closeted themselves in Jennifer's bedroom; as a result she hadn't much interaction with them before they were in bed for the night.
Both heads nodded amid yawns.
"There's French toast and eggs warming in the oven," Joanne told them. "If you prefer Lisa, we have cereal."
"I like French toast."
"Uncle Johnny, says Mommy makes the best French toast," she told her friend.
"Well, Jen," Joanne conveyed in a serious tone but her eyes flashed amusement. "If Uncle Johnny says its so, it must be true."
"Morning, sleepy head," Jennifer greeted her brother who followed the girls into the kitchen. Without acknowledging either his sister or their guest, he opened the fridge and took out the orange juice.
"Make sure you use a glass," his mother warned.
As the children sat down to eat, Joanne examined Johnny sister. Physically, the two didn't come across as related. Notably, Johnny's Native American features stood out. Lisa on the other hand had a combination of both her parents, with a genetic lean toward the Gage side. The two siblings did merge in certain mannerisms. The tilt of her head, her use of hands while talking, even the slight dimple that emerged when she smiled, reminded Joanne of Johnny.
"Your Christmas tree is pretty," Lisa observed.
"The one at the fire station is still up," Jo told her. "You'll see it today. Johnny is very proud of the ornament you made."
"He told me," Lisa smiled reaching for the pancake syrup. As she did her necklace, coming free from the inside of her PJ top, clanked against her plate.
"That's Uncle Johnny's necklace, the one with the pretty saying," said Jennifer eyeing her friend. "He always had it 'round his neck 'cause a special person gave it to him."
"Yep, Firefly gave it to me," she said while pouring maple syrup over her French toast.
"Who's Firefly?" Christopher asked, puzzled.
Lisa waited until her mouth was empty of food before speaking. "It's my brother's nickname." She explained why Johnny had given her the necklace on his last day in Montana.
Jennifer glanced at her mother, confusion crinkling her face. "Uncle Johnny tells us lots of things Mommy, how come he never told us 'bout his nickname?"
Like everyone else, Joanne became aware of Shannon, and her importance to Johnny only recently. She said thoughtfully, "Maybe he doesn't mention it because it makes him sad."
As soon as the words were out, she realized her mistake. While her kids were aware of Johnny having a sister, they weren't privy to most of Johnny's distant past. Both Joanne and Roy had explained to them that they weren't to bug him about anything concerning his family. Now she had unwittingly opened a complex issue. She wasn't at all sure how much information Lisa was aware of either.
"Why?" Chris asked his interest piqued. "And if Uncle Johnny had a family how come we never knew about them, only his aunt?"
Oh boy.
Lisa answered before she could end the conversation.
"He didn't know about me. Johnny moved away before I was born."
"How come?" Chris insisted.
Joanne promptly jumped in. "Chris finish eating please. I'm sure if Johnny wanted us to know, he would have said something long before now. Which means," she paused giving her children a stern eye, "please remember the conversation we had on this. Johnny has a private life too, and it isn't polite to pry, understand?"
All three exchanged glances between them.
"But Lisa is Johnny's sis . . ." He protested letting it die when he got the 'Mom' look. "Yes ma'am," he mumbled. Polishing off the rest of his juice he asked, "is it all right if I call Ryan, after breakfast? I wanna be sure he's still coming to the arcade tomorrow."
"I'm sure if he couldn't he would already have told you. Wait until after nine before you ring him."
The conversation switched to arcade games, much to Joanne's relief.
As she waited for the kids to finish, Jo thought about last evening. She expected to be uncomfortable around Johnny's father considering what she knew about him, but instead, she found John Gage to be agreeable and a good conversationalist. Estranged, as the two men were, she admired how Johnny handled himself. She felt his tension, but he gave his father polite attendance despite the fact it took its toll by the end of the evening. Deliverance presented itself just when he needed a break. Her eyes took in her fair-haired daughter. There were times when Jennifer displayed an exceptional instinct toward Johnny. She knew when he needed attention.
She drank the last of her now cold tea. As soon as the kids were through, she sent them off, and began to clean up, pretty sure Johnny would arrive before the designated hour.
— — —
The odor of fried potatoes and coffee mingled with that of stale cigarette smoke as Johnny wheeled his father into Vinnie's Café the following morning. Johnny personally knew the owner of the restaurant, and as he walked further inside his thoughts traveled back to the day they first met.
Working out of 10's a call came into the station for a hunter who fell from a tree. Once on scene they discovered Vinnie had fallen eleven feet, his body snapping sturdy tree limbs on the way down. The impact with solid ground was merciless to injuries already sustained. They called for life-flight ten, his injuries serious. They quickly had him packaged, but the hike out to meet the helicopter took time. Vinnie remained conscious and he conversed with his rescuers much to everyone's amazement. What left an impression on the young rescue man was Vinnie's strength of spirit. At one point Vinnie said something that would stick with him.
"Hey you should a seen it, a fourteen pointer. I got so excited I forgot I was up a tree. Now, instead of a tree, I'm up a creek."
Vinnie had been right. At the hospital, they discovered he had a compression injury to his lower spinal cord which they felt ninety-percent sure would heal over time, a couple of fractured ribs, and a serious compound fracture to his right leg. Though the surgeons fought to save the limb, they didn't succeed. With Vinnie's recovery an extended one Johnny would check in on him. A friendship ensued between the two men. Confined to a wheelchair for a lengthy stretch while his compression injury healed, Vinnie appreciated the needs of the wheelchair challenged keeping this in mind when he opened up the café.
Today the man in question welcomed them leaning on a pair of crutches. "Johnny, what's shakin'?" he asked giving a quick glance to the man in the chair. "I haven't seen you since you brought that good looking woman in here."
Johnny answered smoothly, "Do ya mean Olivia?" His eyes darted to his father, who must have found something amusing since he wore a smirk.
One of Vinnie's hands rose in question. "You got me, man. You're like one of them revolving doors, a new girl every turn." Johnny's look of surprise had Vinnie quickly adding, "Don't get me wrong brother, I only wish I had half your luck."
"That's right, you wish," Johnny answered as only long term friends could. "I could give ya a couple of pointers you know." He noted his father's eyes rise slightly.
"Well said fire boy," Vinnie chuckled. "Are you going to introduce me?"
"Vinnie Carlucci, my father, John Gage."
From the corner of his mouth Vinnie mumbled, "Jeez, Gage, you could've stopped me."
The smirk on his father's face broadened into a smile.
"It's a pleasure to meet you sir," Vinnie said, pumping his father's hand. "I apologize for the remarks I made. Someday a girl will come along, and Casanova will fall hook, line, and sinker."
"One can only hope," his father replied generically.
"Sorry Pisano, I couldn't help myself," Vinnie apologized as a slow creeping warmth flushed Johnny's face. "It's time for me to make a graceful exit." He maneuvered his crutches around. "Eva," he addressed a thirty-something waitress conversing with a few customers at the lunch counter. "Take 'em to table four."
"Sure thing." Coming from around the counter she picked up a couple of menus.
"Hey Johnny," Vinnie said, "don't wait so long to come back, will talk."
"Catch ya next time," Johnny promised.
"This way," Eva invited, giving Johnny a lingering look. "John Gage, fireman, right?" She led them to a table with plenty of room for his father's wheelchair. Familiar with the waitresses who worked in Vinnie's, Johnny hadn't seen this one before.
"It depends on why ya wanna know?" He conveyed pleasantly, though baffled.
"Oh, sorry," She apologized in view of his puzzlement, "I have a sixth grader who attends M C. Middle. I volunteer on a regular basis, and was volunteering the morning you and your co-workers were up on the roof with the Clayton boy. A scary rescue; you were something else."
Johnny neatly changed the subject. "Thank you. It turned out well. You haven't been here long have you?"
As they settled themselves in, she set two individual napkin wrapped silverware bundles to the side of each place setting. "This is my second week actually." Sliding a pencil out from behind her ear and holding it against a small pad of paper she asked, "What can I get for you this morning?"
"Just coffee for me," Johnny told her.
"You don't want anything to eat?" his father inquired.
Johnny shook his head. "I'm not much for breakfast this morning, but don't let it stop you."
While his father placed his order, Johnny scanned the room. Aside from the counter patrons, a couple with a small child occupied a booth close to the front, two elderly women shared a booth further back, and two tables away, sat a party of five.
After retrieving both menus the waitress told them, "I'll be right back with your drinks. The food should only take a few minutes."
Once the woman moved off, Johnny asked, "What's this about?"
"Our relationship."
"Last time I checked we didn't have one."
"My point exactly, John," He said firmly, "If you're not interested in relationship building, why have you invited us here?"
Johnny fired back, "Why did ya insist on taking me back to South LA?"
Father and son stared at one another in a wordless showdown. Tension emanated from both roping them together in a tight connection, neither one willing to give ground. Long seconds ticked by. The rattling of dishes, muted conversation from the occupied tables, and the waitress calling out the food order filtered within hearing.
The stalemate was broken when his father spoke. "I am trying to heal, John. I can't do it alone."
"Alone? You have a wife and daughter to help you. Your sponsor is a phone call away." Sourly he added, "I hope you're not expecting me . . ."
"What I expect is an answer to my question," his father said testily. "Why have you invited us here?"
Johnny appraised his father, leaning back in his chair. "I'm not sure my answer is what you wanna hear."
"Try me." Though his expression remained neutral, a slight twitch in his eye warned Johnny of his father's displeasure.
"Frankly, the invitation was for Lisa's benefit. Whether you saw it happening or not, she began to think everything you were experiencing was her fault."
His father's eyes narrowed slightly. "Did she tell you this?"
"It's my understanding from Liz; Lisa blamed herself for sending the letter." He paused. "The truth is circumstances were already comin' together for me to make my way to Montana regardless of her involvement. Her letter helped me arrive sooner rather than later."
The waitress returned with their drink order placing them quietly on the table before leaving. Johnny reached for his cup of coffee taking a sip. Hot and strong, he drank it black. When he met his father's eyes, he read disappointment there. He let his gaze drift from his father to the couple with the small child. They were preparing to leave; the little boy still in the highchair raised his arms to his father who picked him up, smiling.
The awkward silence between them lengthened. Johnny sipped his coffee; his father looked around the room. Pressing his wheelchair closer to the table his father broke the silence once again, "Yesterday Lisa wanted to know why you moved to LA."
The hardened emotional wall always present around his father cracked slightly allowing Johnny to glimpse his insecurity. "Whatcha tell her?"
"What do you think I told her?" A hard-line attitude and the personality to match rushed in to repair the crack. "I told her it was a story for another day. I'm not ready to see condemnation in my daughter's eyes like I see in yours." He reached out and picked up his water glass, Johnny noting the tremor in his hand.
"Whose fault is that?"
"Mine."
The attempt to acknowledge the bitterness of past deeds caught Johnny off guard.
"John, no matter what you think of me—or what happens between us, I won't deny Lisa her right to know who her brother is. Too many years have passed already."
The indirect reference to his aunt's deceit had him retaliate, "Your actions caused this train wreck. The role of a parent is to protect, and you failed miserably."
His father appearance carried an undeniable certainty of acceptance and pain. The elder disregarded his son's turn of phrase. "I understand the role of a parent is to protect." He searched his son's face. "As hard as it may be for you to remember, while your mother was alive you were protected John—and loved."
Giving no quarter Johnny said, "It's hard remembering when you consider what followed."
His father stiffened, sudden anger infecting his tone, "I don't need reminding. Beside you, no one knows the story better then me." A few heads turned in their direction and he lowered his voice his frustration clear. "What do I have to do to reach you?"
The manner in which he delivered the message triggered a physical response in Johnny. His hands began to tingle and a fine sheen of perspiration became visible. He knew the warning signs. His concentration swung inward to still his nervous tension, and his eyes closed to ward against the injured look his father wore. A cold trickle of moisture slipped down his back. With effort, he pulled himself together.
He missed his father's frown.
Johnny opened his eyes to find the waitress approaching their table. Neither spoke while she stood within earshot.
Positioning the food in front of his father, she refilled Johnny's coffee mug, ignorant of the whirlpool of tension churning around both men.
She cheerfully asked, "Can I get anything else for either of you?" When both shook their heads, she placed the bill face down on the table. "There's no rush, when you're ready."
Staring at the eggs in front of him his father made no move to eat. He sighed and shook his head. "I see I've made you uncomfortable, it wasn't my intent. I only want to—" Again, he sighed. "I needed your aunt's help. I sent you to California thinking it would be the better place for you."
"As you've already told me," Johnny reminded.
"There's more to the story, John."
"Then I think ya owe me an explanation," He demanded.
Long bleak moments followed before his father answered, "Rose may have disliked me, but it didn't extend to you. Because she was Grace's sister, I entrusted you into her care." He gave a bitter smile, "not that you needed looking after. You had been doing so for sometime." His fork picked at the eggs on his plate. "I had only one stipulation for your aunt, and you're aware of it." He paused, "John, understand I became caught in a quagmire of self-loathing with no escape but through the bottle." He put his fork down moving the plate a little away from him, and sat back swiping a thumb across his brow. "Sending you off without an explanation or apology for my behavior was a grave error; my self-hatred deepened. I damned myself for every failure, every harsh action, and the indifference shown toward you." A hollow smile twisted his lips. "The mocking reminder I lost everything was in an empty house I no longer wanted to live in—your empty room—and in pictures displayed on the mantel. Culpability drowned me; my life spiraled out of control. I had driven everyone from my life. I had nothing left." He paused and looked into his son's eyes, willing him to understand. "You must have questioned why you didn't hear from me."
Johnny detected a subtle shift in body language and his father's eyes—for a moment he couldn't quite place the emotion, then he recognized it. Suddenly his stomach cramped and the room shrank. What he saw was Shame. God, he sensed what was coming next. He tensed in anticipation.
"One night I called the house." His father looked away unable to meet his son's eyes. "When your aunt informed me you decided to cut any connection to me; I didn't question it, John. I believed you wanted this. That night I hit bottom. I wanted to stop the pain, the lies, most of all I needed to free myself from the black sucking void that was my life. I had enough."
It was there in the depths when their eyes locked, the reality of what he attempted.
"If I were a stronger person, son, I would have handled it differently."
The confession covered the space between them in truth.
Rocked by the disclosure, Johnny involuntarily sucked in his breath. "Jesus," He murmured, his emotions in turmoil.
"I met Liz while in the hospital. It was her belief in me that had me taking the first step toward recovery."
Liz's words came to Johnny, "There's more to this story than you know. I can say with certainty, he suffered."
His father's revelation buffeted Johnny with emotions he wasn't prepared to handle, emotions so foreign in association with his father he went into emotional lock-down. He sat still.
A distant far-away gaze sheltered his father a moment. "It took me longer than I anticipated breaking the shackle of addiction. Time passed. I wrote to you, and I tried calling." His eyes came back into focus. "You weren't approachable, and who could blame you. You were filled with resentment with every right to be. In hindsight to much time had passed.
Johnny stopped, and tried again unable to keep the unfriendliness from seeping in. "The benefit of hindsight is useless; too late it shows us what we should have done." He instinctively looked to the floor, "I-I can tell ya with certainty had you attempted to reach out to me—before I left—you wouldn't have been alone." Johnny inhaled and spoke slowly, "You chose to cast me aside, and here we are."
His father's hands tightened on the arms of his chair, "I"m sorry you continue to see it that way. I'm here now. I'm here because you opened that door when you came home. Don't slam it shut before giving us a chance. You asked me why I wanted to see the house? I needed to see where you finished growing up. You're not the only one in need of healing. I need to forgive myself. I need to put this to rest, with or without your help, and move forward. I owe this to Liz and Lisa, and yes, even you. I need you to understand who I am now, not who I was."
"Do you mind if we not talk about this anymore?" Johnny kept his composure, aware of where they were, though he knew he could easily slip. His hand nervously slid through his hair, "Your breakfast is growing cold."
Sensitive to his son's displeasure the elder Gage ended the discussion with one last thought. "Here's a truth for you," he said categorically. "You are my son, whether you want me as your father or not. I won't stop trying to find the middle ground. For everyone's sake we need to come to some understanding."
"Maybe," Johnny admitted, "maybe not."
His father began eating. "What time did we say you were picking up Lisa?"
It was hard to reconcile the man sitting across from him was the same man who terrorized his dreams for years. "Eleven." Johnny looked at his watch. It was only 8:20." He had a couple of hours yet.
"You can drop me back at the hotel when we're done." Using a napkin to wipe his mouth, his father said, "Tell me about your friend Vinnie, he seems quite the character. Did I detect a northern accent, New York maybe —?"
Johnny couldn't grasp how his father could go from one subject to the next, without batting an eye. Ten minutes later, reaching for the bill and rolling away from the table, he commented, "You ready?"
Johnny stood without answering.
— — —
Though arriving forty-five minutes early to pick up his sister, it did not dampen the enthusiastic response he received at the DeSoto home. He found himself deposited at the kitchen table, presented with a glass of milk and two chocolate chip cookies, courtesy of the girls. They left leaving him alone with Joanne.
"Sorry I'm early," He apologized.
"Lisa's having a good time Johnny," Joanne said. "If that's what's worrying you."
"No. I knew she would."
"Then what's wrong? You look as though you pulled a bad shift."
"I had breakfast with my father this morning."
Joanne nodded. "Ah, explains a lot."
"It was awkward, but I managed," He commented.
"And?" She encouraged.
Playing with his cookie, he broke it half. "My father told me a few things I wasn't fully aware of. I don't know what to make of it."
Joanne studied him a moment before saying, "You don't trust him to tell you the truth?"
He shook his head. "No, that isn't it," he sounded sincere."
"Then you don't trust the man." It wasn't a question.
He nodded. "This morning he told me he won't give up trying to find some kinda understanding between us."
"Do you want to have some kind of understanding?"
"For Lisa's sake, I should."
"Johnny," She said emphatically, "you can't do this for anyone other than yourself."
"I don't know what to do."
"What makes you think you have to do anything? To rebuild trust takes time. In this instance, it isn't something the words I'm sorry can fix, but it is a place to start if this is what you want."
He played with his glass. "I don't know what I want—or what's right."
Joanne placed a hand on top of his. "Johnny, whatever you decide will be right, only you can't rush it, let it come naturally."
"Now you sound like, Liz."
Seeing an opportunity to instill some lightness she said, "I found you're stepmother to be level headed and smart, thanks."
Johnny grinned suddenly feeling lighter. He dunked the cookie in his milk.
Joanne watched his action, chuckling.
"What? I'm hungry I didn't eat breakfast," He complained.
"Well, in that case," she said rising and going to the counter retrieving the cookie jar, "feel free to have some more."
— — —
"Thank you for inviting me Mrs. DeSoto," Lisa said as she stood saying goodbye, "I had fun."
"You're welcome. We'll see you tomorrow. Enjoy your lunch at the station."
"We will if Chet isn't cooking," Johnny answered.
— — —
The squad was gone when Johnny arrived at the station for lunch.
"Welcome to Station 51," Captain Stanley greeted his visitors. I hope you are enjoying your stay?"
"Very much, thank you." Liz answered for everyone.
After introductions, Hank said, "Lunch is almost ready, courtesy of Mike here," He smiled at Johnny's look of relief. "I'll have John take you on a quick tour and then will sit down to eat. We never know when we'll get called out so we eat when it's ready."
The 'tour' didn't take long and within minutes, everyone found places at the table.
Hank told them, "Mike prepared sandwiches, Chicken and Tuna Salad, dig in."
"It is kind of you to invite us for lunch," John Sr. said.
"Family is always welcome here," Hank, answered. Though he knew the man sitting at this table had put his paramedic through physical and emotional trauma, John had invited his family to California; He would help support that decision.
The tree turned out lovely," Liz said. "What a special acknowledgment."
"Lisa," Marco said. "The ornament you made for the tree is very unique."
Johnny watched his sister smile with pride. He gave her a wink.
Talk revolved around what they did over Christmas and the making of the ornaments and scrapbook.
"Glad to have you back on Thursday, Johnny boy," Chet commented. "It just isn't the same when you're not on shift."
"Oh, I bet," Johnny answered, cryptically adding, "having pigeon problems?"
Mike snickered, and Marco looked down at his plate trying to hide his amusement.
Liz, and his father looked confused "You have a pigeon problem at the station?" His father directed his question at Captain Stanley.
"Ah, Kelly why don't you get some more water," Cap suggested, and then answered his father. "I can assure you there is no bird problem plaguing the station."
"Daddy," Lisa explained, "Johnny told me, he and Mr. Kelly like to play jokes on one another."
Marco explained taking it further, "Yeah, these two like to see who can outdo the other in the prank department."
"I didn't start this war," Johnny mentioned.
"Sounds like a good stress release," Liz said. "As closely as you all work together it's needed."
Hank pounced on the chance to change the subject. "Exactly, it can be pretty stressful some days."
"I can imagine."
"What about earthquakes? Do you feel them often?"
It isn't—"
Klaxons rang out startling their visitors and effectively ending their pleasant lunch. Immediately all fireman were on their feet, including Johnny who stopped himself.
"Engine 51, Squad 36 in place of Squad 51—traffic accident with injuries at the intersection of Washington Avenue and Dominquez Street. Washington and Dominquez, time out 12:39."
Captain Stanley looked to Johnny as his men filed from the kitchen. "Take your time. Finish eating."
"Station 51 KMG-365," Stoker responded in the background
"Thanks, Cap," Johnny said.
After the engine pulled away John Sr. asked, "Is it always like this?"
"There are days slower than others, sometimes we can get through a whole meal, sometimes not." He shrugged. "You get used to it."
"Tell us what other things you do as part of your job"
As Johnny began his explanation, he heard the dispatcher say, "Squad 36 cancel, Squad 51 will respond to Engine 51's location." Johnny thought it was shaping up to be one of those days.
— — —
Ryan looked glumly out the window. He was waiting for his father's arrival and he was late. He tried to be happy when his father was around, but his father wasn't happy having to have someone present in the room with them, so he felt bad. His mother looked tired again, and he wondered if his father was the cause.
"Ryan, Uncle Rodger is late today. Maybe isn't coming," His cousin Stephanie said watching him stare out the window. She felt awful for her cousin, so much drama in his life. It left little doubt why her cousin suffered bouts of depression. Thank God her parents were 'normal.' "Why don't you have Mom find out for you? At least then you won't have to sit here waiting."
— — —
Margery placed the key in the lock but before she could use it, the front door was flung open. Rodger stood there, his face hard.
"I'm sorry I'm late," she said. She walked past him into the house. "If you're ready we can—" The way he stood staring caused her to falter.
"What have you been doing behind my back?"
"What? What's the matter with you. Nothing, I've been working." A slight tremor shook her voice. "I'm sorry you're late with your visit with Ry, but I had to work late."
"I'm not talking being late, explain this." He flung an open envelope at her. She made an instinctive grab for it but it hit the floor.
Color fled as the name Schuler and Associates jumped out at her. She slowly bent to retrieve it her hands shaking as she picked it up. Her mind raced, this wasn't supposed to be delivered here until after the holidays. Fear replaced the confusion of moments before causing her to take a step backward.
He said slowly, "I had to sign for it," Delivered in as chilling a voice as she'd ever heard him use he continued, "when were you going to tell me?"
"Rodger please, it's not what you think it is," Margery said, no longer showing a brave front.
"It's exactly what it says," his eyes iced over. "I can read. You've filed for divorce, whose been helping you, Margery?
"N-no one Rodger."
"You aren't smart enough to do this on your own, whose been helping, Linda? Kevin?"
She shook her head in denial. The phone's ring startled them both. Shaking Margery answered it her eyes glued to her husband. "Oh, hello Linda." Her hand gripped the receiver. "Yes, Rodger's here, he waiting on me. No I'm fine, just tired, long day at work." She glanced fearfully at Rodger, afraid to end her conversation. "Of course I'll bring him right over. Sorry for being late."
She hung up the phone.
Rodger said nothing at all, his closed silence more frightening to her than if he came up swinging.