Warning--Saccharine Alert! Also, chapter hijacked by a character.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
She carefully arranged the cookies on plates and wrapped them in plastic wrap and foil. She tied the packages with red and green ribbons before she walked into the small pantry. She sighed when she saw the picnic basket was on the highest shelf. "I hate being short," she muttered as she pushed the step stool into position. She stepped up and pulled down the basket. She carefully examined the basket's interior and exterior, and was pleased to discover it retained no sand or shell pieces from its summer use. She carried the basket into the kitchen, carefully lined it with a clean kitchen towel, and arranged the packages of cookies in the basket. She placed another towel over the top of the packages and surveyed the results with some satisfaction. "In a pinch," she thought. "I can be quite domestic."
A bittersweet longing touched her. At one point in her life, she expected to have many moments like this, moments when she would bake many cookies, make many dinners, and pack many lunches. She wished briefly for a drink of something strong and potent, but the house's supplies didn't include alcohol. Her sister only kept beer and wine at the house during the summer, and Alex hadn't brought anything with her. She knew Bobby couldn't have anything stronger than a soda while he was on his medications, and the idea of drinking in front of him hadn't appealed to her. She walked across the kitchen, hesitated a moment, and slowly opened the door to the master bedroom.
Bobby lay on his left side. His right arm lay carefully straightened on his body. He was deeply asleep, his breathing regular and quiet. For once, no dreams disturbed him. Alex stepped closer to the bed and knelt beside it. Asleep, his long eyelashes occasionally fluttering, Bobby appeared young and vulnerable. Alex wanted to take him in her arms, to hold and hug him, to let him know that she cared for him, that she…Her hand hovered over his curls for a moment, and then she fell back on her haunches. He stirred slightly, and she held her breath, but he didn't wake up. She moved carefully until she knelt again by the bed.
"No," she thought. "I…I can't be…not another cop…Not this cop…Not Bobby…Not this stubborn…troubled…brilliant…good…" She took a deep breath. "C'mon…What you've done for him…How you care about him…" She studied his pale face. "This is bad…So bad…And…and what does he feel? Could he…" Alex remembered the line of brunettes, including Carolyn Barek, who moved through Bobby's life. But there had been none of those since Carolyn. "And maybe," Alex thought. "He keeps pulling back because he knows the rules better than anyone…He probably thinks he isn't good enough for me…That he'd be to much trouble…" Her hand tentatively touched his curls. "He'd never consider that I might be too much trouble…That I might not be good enough for him…"
Bobby stirred and again and moved closer to her touch. He made a soft noise somewhere between a purr and a sigh. Alex pressed her hand gently against his curls, and Bobby smiled. "I calm him," she thought. She stood, wincing when her knees protested. "I know you have problems, Bobby," she thought. "But we can't wait forever…Too much could happen…Too much has happened." She bent down and brushed her lips across his curls before she left the room.
It was a wonderful dream, and Bobby struggled to hold onto it. He had so few good dreams that he fought to remember them. This one, like so many of the past seven years, involved Alex. She was near him, only a few inches from him, and he felt her soft hand on his head. He smiled as its warmth flowed through him. And then it was gone. He tried to find her, but she was gone, lost to him. He tried to recover the wonderful warmth, but it was just beyond his reach, close, but too far away. He moved, and pain sliced at the edges of his mind. He didn't want to wake up. His body still begged for rest, and his mind desperately wanted to return to the dream of Alex. But the pain persisted, and, with a groan, he reluctantly woke up. He looked at the clock and was surprised that he'd managed to get a couple of hours of sleep. He groaned again when he sat up and his body protested the move. He sat on the edge of the bed and tried to collect his thoughts.
There was a soft knock at the door. "Hey," Alex said. "Mind if I come in?"
"Uh…Yea…" He managed to get his feet into his slippers.
Alex opened the door, and his heart leaped at the sight of her. She was dressed simply but elegantly in a red turtleneck sweater and grey slacks. Bobby recognized the pedant around her neck as a gift he shyly presented to her the Christmas after she gave birth to her nephew—he thought she might need something extra—and the earrings she wore as something he impulsively bought for her during one of their undercover operations. She'd worn the jewelry before, but for some reason the fact she wore them now deeply touched him. Her hair was pulled up and away from her face, which glowed in the late afternoon light.
"You're beautiful, Alex," he said reverently.
She blushed. "Thank you," she said softly. "How are you feeling?"
"Better." He wasn't lying. He felt amazingly better. All of his fear and pain retreated from her.
"So, think you're up to this evening?" She tried to hide how much his answer meant to her.
He stood slowly. "You're sure…that it's ok?"
Alex felt a slight irritation at his continued questioning of her family's invitation. "But this is Bobby," she thought. "He's never sure he belongs…"
"It's definitely ok," she said warmly. "I think everyone would be disappointed if you didn't come."
"Let's see how I feel after a shower," Bobby said after a moment. He shuffled towards the bathroom. "Alex…Could I ask a favor?"
"Of course."
"I…I'm not sure what I should wear," he said shyly. "Could you pick something out for me?"
"Not a problem," Alex answered cheerfully. "You must trust me if you let me pick out your clothes."
He stopped in front of the bathroom door. "I trust you with everything, Alex."
Stunned, she watched him disappear into the bathroom. "Wow," she thought. "That was definitely two steps forward at least." She smiled. "I get to dress Bobby Goren…Let's see what I have to work with."
After laying out his clothes, Alex waited in the living room for Bobby. She stared at the photos on the shelves and wondered if her sister was living the life Alex had wanted. "But maybe I wasn't meant for that life," she thought. "I had it…" She looked out the window at the darkening sky. "But maybe…in some way…for some reason…I'm meant to be with Bobby…that we're meant to help each other in some way…" She sighed. "But what if Bobby won't admit that…or doesn't know it…"
"Hey."
Alex turned to see Bobby standing in the door to the living room.
"I'm sorry I didn't bring much for you to pick from," he said softly. "I…I didn't think I'd need a suit…"
"You look…better than fine," Alex said admiringly.
Bobby's face flushed. Alex had selected a dark green turtleneck and black slacks for him. He had shaved, and above his pale face his just washed hair was in riotous grey and black curls on his head.
"I…I feel pretty good…at least as good as I've felt in a long time," Bobby said.
Alex picked up her coat. "Ready to go?"
"Yea." Bobby carefully slipped on his leather jacket. "But I feel bad…I don't have anything to bring."
"Yes you do," Alex said cheerfully. "You helped with these." She lifted the basket of cookies. "And there's you…"
Bobby smiled sadly. "I don't think I'm such a great gift."
Alex followed him out the door. His shoulders slumped, and he seemed more like a man about to face a trial than one headed for a holiday party.
"For him, it probably is a trial," Alex thought. "His idea…experience…of family is very different from mine."
There was a comfortable quiet in the car as they drove to Alex's parents' house. The traffic was light, and the weather, while cold and grey, lacked any icy moisture. Their route took them through several neighborhoods brightly, even gaudily, decorated for the season. Alex smiled as they passed one row of houses bearing particularly elaborate displays of reindeers and angels.
"My Dad always says that it takes just one guy in a neighborhood to start decorating," she said. "Then everyone wants to get in on the act."
Bobby looked out the window. "Yea," he agreed.
"My Dad never went too crazy with the outdoor decorations…and my Mom, as much as she loves Christmas, is always pretty restrained," Alex mused. "I guess she had to be, what with all those kids to watch and buy presents for…But we'd always take one night to look at lights…My parents had a great time commenting on how much time and effort people put into them…"
"That…that musta been fun," Bobby said wistfully.
"It was," Alex said. "We'd all pile in the station wagon. My Mom would bring a couple of thermoses of hot chocolate—no Starbucks on every corner those days—and we'd turn on the radio and sing along with the Christmas songs. It was great, even if we started arguing about who got the last of the hot chocolate."
"It sounds wonderful."
Alex glanced at Bobby. He was huddled in the passenger seat, and she couldn't see his face. "I guess," she said hesitantly. "You don't have good memories of this time of the year."
He was quiet for several minutes, and Alex feared she'd crossed a line.
"I…I'm afraid," he finally said. "I don't have a lot of good memories from when I was a kid." He stared out the window. "I'm sorry, Alex. I may not be the best guest tonight…"
"Look," Alex said. "Everyone knows that you've been through a lot. If things get too much for you, you can go to the quiet room."
"Quiet room?"
Alex smiled. "Yea…Whenever my family gets together, there's always a quiet room designated. Where you take a crying baby or an upset kid, or where an adult can get away from the rest of the horde."
"Sound like a good idea."
"We probably won't need it tonight," Alex said cheerfully. "Not too many of us, and the reasonable ones at that."
"This is the first time I've been to your parents' new house," Bobby said. "How are they adjusting to the smaller space?"
"Really well," Alex said. "My Dad says he wishes he did it a long time ago. And it's much easier for my Mom. Everything is on one floor, so she can get around with her chair or her cane. My oldest brother got the old house, so it's not like the family really lost anything. It's working out great."
"No arguments about who got what?"
Alex wondered if Bobby was acting out of courtesy, but she sensed a real interest from him.
"No…My Mom and Dad are taking the route of giving things away bit by bit…So far, it's worked." Alex grinned. "Except for the really ugly side table no one wants."
"Your family…It…it must be nice to have that…"
She heard the longing in his voice. "Yea," she said. "It is."
Alex turned her car into the driveway of a small house surrounded by a neat lawn and well kept trees. Christmas lights covered several shrubs, large Christmas wreaths filled several windows, and a large tree dominated the living room window.
"Nice tree," Bobby commented as Alex parked the car.
"Artificial," Alex said. "My Mom got it just as the last of us left the house. Although I swear it takes as long to put up as it did to get a real tree."
The front door swung open, and a small boy raced out. "Aunt Alex! Aunt Alex!" he shouted. "And Bobby! Bobby came! I knew it! I knew he'd come!" He ran to Alex and threw his arms around her legs.
"Nate!" A woman with Alex's features appeared in the doorway. "You need to get your coat on! And don't tackle Alex and Bobby!"
Nate turned to Bobby, who wrapped his long arms around the boy. "Wow, Nate…You've grown…"
Nate beamed up at Bobby. "I played T-Ball this year. I get to play Pee-Wee ball next summer."
"Great," Bobby smiled at the boy. "I'd like to come and see you play."
Nate's smile grew. "You know Santa comes tonight?"
"Yea." Bobby subtly guided Nate back towards the house.
"Mommy and Daddy said Santa will find our house even if we're not there," Nate said excitedly. "But I hope we get to see him tonight."
"I'm afraid, Nate," Bobby said gravely. "Santa is the all time champion in not being seen. I've never caught him."
Nate stopped and stared up at Bobby. "Aunt Alex says you're the best detective…If you've never seen Santa, he must be really good at hiding."
Bobby glanced back at Alex. "Your Aunt Alex has an awfully high opinion of me," he said. "I'm not that good…"
"For goodness sake, Nate," the boy's mother said. "Get in here where it's warm or you'll get sick during Christmas…You'll get pneumonia…"
"What's pneumonia?" Nate asked as the adults herded him into the house.
"Pneumonia," Bobby said as he took off his coat. "Is an infection of your lungs caused by tiny bugs…"
"Yuck!" Nate declared. "I don't want that." He rushed into the living room, leaving Bobby and Alex in his wake.
Bobby warily entered the living room. In spite of Alex's reassurances, he feared that his welcome might be less than enthusiastic. But Mr. Eames greeted him as warmly as ever, Alex's brother-in-law asked if he'd been working on any cars lately, and her sister was clearly glad to have someone else to entertain Nate. Nate was almost as excited about seeing Bobby as he was at Santa's imminent arrival.
"Grandma!" Nate said as he pulled Bobby with him. "Bobby came!"
Not for the first time in his life, Bobby felt huge and awkward.
Mrs. Eames sat in a large, comfortable chair close to the Christmas tree. A cane leaned against the chair, but no wheelchair was in evidence, and Bobby guessed that the older woman's physical therapy must be going well.
"She can probably whack me with that cane if she wants to," he thought.
"Bobby," Mrs. Eames said warmly. "I'm so glad you came…"
It was one of the best evenings Bobby had experienced in some time, perhaps one of the best evenings of his life. His fears evaporated in the face of the warmth of the Eames family members. Everything was very simple and relaxed. The food consisted of soup and sandwiches and a wide variety of sweet treats, including Alex's cookies. Her mother and sister laughed at Alex's description of the cookie making process, especially the "mystery lumps". Nate stayed close to Alex and Bobby, favoring Bobby with particular attention and reciting various facts and theories regarding Santa Claus and the man in the red suit's habits.
"He's not driving Bobby crazy, is he?" her sister asked as they dealt with the dishes.
Alex smiled as she watched Bobby draw a picture for Nate. Her nephew examined it closely before he spoke to Bobby, who considered the boy's comments with the same gravity he gave to a witness' statement.
"No," Alex answered. "I think Nate is very good for Bobby."
"He's always been wonderful with Nate," her sister said. "Nate was as excited about getting to see Bobby as he has been about Christmas. Bobby's so good with kids. Too bad he isn't a father instead of some of these other guys."
"Yea," Alex said softly. "It is."
They played several vicious hands of Uno, with Nate delighting in dumping cards on Bobby at every opportunity, and, to Alex's embarrassment, several photo albums made the rounds. Around nine, Nate began to yawn, and his parents started to drop hints that it might be time to leave. In spite of threats that Santa might pass him by in confusion, Nate clung to Alex and Bobby.
"Santa knows everything," he insisted. "He'll know where to leave my presents." He yawned.
"You know," Mr. Eames said. "You all could stay…Your Mother said she'd like to go to Midnight Mass at St. Anthony's."
"That would be great, Dad," Alex's sister said. "But I don't think Nate is up to it…"
"Yes, I am!" Nate said, but his argument was severely undercut by his huge yawn.
"Uh…I…I'd be happy to watch him while you go," Bobby said tentatively.
Nate's eyes grew wider, and he looked eagerly at his parents.
Alex studied Bobby. "You're sure you feel up to it?"
"I wouldn't offer if I didn't," Bobby replied confidently. "Nate and I can stay here and watch for flying reindeer."
"Are you sure you don't want to go, Bobby?" Mrs. Eames asked gently.
"I'm afraid I'm not much of a churchgoer, Ma'am," Bobby replied. "I'm sure that Nate will keep me out of trouble, though."
Nate looked expectantly at the adults.
"Nathaniel," his father said gravely. "Do you promise to behave? And to go to sleep if you have to?"
"I promise," Nate said and put his hand on his heart.
"All right…"
Nate squealed and dove into Bobby, who sat on the couch. "Yea! I get to spend time with Bobby!"
Bobby winced as Nate hit his sore ribs, but recovered quickly. Only Alex caught his brief show of pain.
"If we want to get a set," Mr. Eames said. "We ought to get going."
"C'mon, Nate," the boy's mother said. "Let's at least get you in your pajamas. Maybe then you'll at least think about sleep."
Bobby stood slowly and walked to Alex. "If you want, you can go with them…"
Alex studied her family for a moment.
"If you want to stay, that's fine," Bobby said. "But I get the sense you might like to be with them…And get a little break from me…"
"The whole point of this evening," Alex said. "Was to make sure you weren't alone…"
"I won't be," he replied evenly. "I'll be with Nate…And, aside from you, there's no one else I rather be with."
"What's going on here?" Mrs. Eames asked as she slowly walked up to Bobby and Alex.
"I'm trying to get Alex to do what she wants to do," Bobby said dryly.
Alex opened her mouth to utter a protest, but her mother's laughter stopped her. "Getting Alex to do anything, whether she wants to or not, can be a struggle."
She fumed for a moment, but Alex saw her mother and Bobby's smiles. "You've been in the house for a few hours," Alex said in mock dismay. "And already you're on my Mom's side."
"I'm not on anybody's side," Bobby said. "I…I just want you to do what makes you happy. I'll go check with his parents to see what Nate needs." He turned but looked back at Alex. "Really…whatever you want, Alex. You can stay or go."
"That's strange," Mrs. Eames said thoughtfully. "He seemed to be talking about more than just going to church."
"Yea," Alex said with equal thought.
"So, Alex," Mr. Eames said. "You coming with us? Shock the priest and parishioners?"
"I'll be lucky if I'm not struck by lightning," Alex mused. "And the rest of you with me."
"Ha," her brother-in-law said. "If I haven't gotten struck down yet for some of my thoughts during sermons, no one is going to get hit." He smiled at Alex. "We've managed to convince Nate to put his pajamas on. Bobby told him that Santa will come faster if boys and girls at least pretend to be asleep."
"Just give me a moment," Alex said.
She walked into the kitchen, where she discovered Bobby pulling a gallon of milk from the refrigerator. Nate, now wearing blue pajamas with feet dotted with snowmen, sat expectantly at the table.
"Bobby," Nate announced. "Is making coco."
"So I see," Alex smiled.
"I've never had coco," Nate said, swinging his feet. "Is it as good as hot chocolate?"
"Better," Bobby said as he spooned coco and sugar into a pan. "It's got more chocolate taste…'Course it's harder to make…which makes it more valuable."
Nate considered this statement. "Daddy tells me that the things you work harder for are the best."
"Your father is a wise man." Bobby stirred the dark liquid.
"Is there enough for me to have some?" Alex asked.
"Yea…It's nearly ready…Where are the mugs?" Bobby said.
"I want a big mug," Nate declared.
Smiling, Alex walked to a shelf and pulled three mugs from it. As she placed them on the counter, Bobby turned off the burner and lifted the pan of coco. He poured the coco into the mugs and brushed against Alex. The disturbing but comforting warmth rose between them.
"Hey," Nate said. "Your faces are red."
"It…it's the heat from the coco," Bobby said quickly. "Here…try this, Nate…Be careful…It's hot."
Nate blew on the coco and took a tentative sip. "This is really good…We should leave some for Santa."
"We can," Bobby said. "And maybe something for the reindeer."
"Carrots," Nate declared. "And apples. Reindeer like that."
"Ok," Alex thought shakily. "Crisis avoided." "Hey," she said to Bobby. "You really ok being alone with Nate?"
"We'll be fine." Bobby smiled at Nate. "We'll listen for the reindeer and keep each other out of trouble."
Nate, coco ringing his mouth, looked up. "I'll take good care of him, Aunt Alex."
They finally left Nate and Bobby cocooned on the couch. "Be sure to send Santa here if you see him," Nate said solemnly.
"We'll be fine," Bobby smiled. "Don't worry."
Nate fought valiantly against sleep for several stories. Bobby told him about the miracle of speech given to the animals on Christmas, about how tabby cats got their stripes, and about how the reindeer prepared through the year for the big trip on Christmas Eve. Roughly forty five minutes after the time his parents predicted their son would fall asleep, Nate finally showed signs of surrendering. Bobby carefully laid him on the couch and covered him with a thick blanket. Bobby straightened, stretched, and winced.
"You ok, Bobby," Nate asked drowsily.
"Yea…I'm fine…You ok?"
Nate regarded Bobby through half opened green eyes, eyes that looked like Alex's. "Aunt Alex said you got hurt…"
"It…It wasn't bad," Bobby said weakly.
Nate yawned. "She said you were a hero…that you saved a lot of people…a little boy…"
"It wasn't a big deal," Bobby said.
"Heroes always say that it's not a big deal," Nate said. "So you must be a real hero." He yawned again, and finally closed his eyes in sleep.
Bobby, rubbing his neck, looked from the sleeping boy to the Christmas Tree and back again.
END CHAPTER FOURTEEN