Itty bitty chapter, just to keep it (somewhat) rolling...
Gail screeched up her parents' driveway before hitting the brakes and throwing her car into park with a violent jerk. Not bothering with her gym bag she grabbed the paper perched atop it and got out, slamming the door behind her.
Even if Bill hadn't been keeping a nervous eye out he would have had to have been deaf to miss the racket that accompanied her arrival. Taking a calming breath he met her in the foyer. "Morning, Love. How was your night?"
"Not spent on the scavenger hunt," she recapped shortly. "Big surprise, right?"
Bill wouldn't bother pleading his innocence, partly because he would have intervened if he'd thought he needed to and partly because he knew she wouldn't believe him anyway; she was too suspicious by nature and too (spitefully?) blind to the limitations her appearance presented to accept the real reason she hadn't been asked to participate… Bending to kiss her cheek he placated, "I'm just glad you're okay." The night of Steven's hunt was not one he ever wanted to repeat.
That he wouldn't address his involvement one way or the other only made Gail more certain he was responsible for her exclusion from the exercise. He was just lucky she had a bigger bone to pick at the moment and it wasn't with him… "Where's mom?"
"Uh…" He hesitated, not entirely comfortable with the sudden change in direction. "She's in the solarium. But you don't…"
Gail cut him off with a wave of her hand, his fear of being tattled on all the more annoying for it being unnecessary. When he fell into step right behind her she tried very hard not to be (further) reminded of Chris.
Elaine looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps, met with her daughter's surly disposition. "You should really stop frowning like that, Gail," she greeted with a 'tsk.' "You're already starting to wrinkle…"
Before she could lose the resolve she'd spent the entire ride home bolstering (coming dangerously close when her mother went back to the newspaper in an unambiguous sign of dismissal) Gail slapped the transfer notice onto the table. "What is this?"
Sparing her youngest child an unimpressed glance Elaine scanned the document. "It's a little dense, asking questions you already know the answers to, isn't it? Clearly it's a Notification of Transfer for Officer Epstein."
Bill's sense of foreboding became a fixed knot of dread in his stomach.
"From the Chief's office," Gail supplied, teeth clenched. "Why would the Chief want Dov transferred out?"
Why would her daughter care when there was supposedly nothing between her and the impertinent young man? "It says here it's a promotion for the meth lab bust…" Handing the paper back Elaine lifted a critical eyebrow. "You've been able to read since you were four, though, so I don't understand the confusion." Or why they were even having this conversation…
Gail denied the reasoning (and not-so-subtle rebuke) with a sharp shake of her head. "15 is practically the pride and joy of the TPA – how is transferring him out a reward?" The pretense was so transparent it may as well have been coming from Andy's lips…
Elaine couldn't disagree with the logic nor did she have any inclination to. "You could call the Chief and ask him to explain it to you," she suggested breezily, "Though I can't imagine he'd appreciate you questioning his judgment…"
Hot tears of frustration prickled at Gail's eyes, well aware of what her mother was doing yet unable to defend against it. Quietly – almost meekly – she argued, "Whatever he said to you…"
"The Chief?"
"Dov!" Gail snapped, the feigned misinterpretation turning frustration to white-hot anger. "You can drop the smoke and mirrors act, Mother; it doesn't work on me!" And her night had been way too long to even pretend otherwise.
Smoke and mirrors act? "I don't think I care for your attitude, young lady." Her daughter was afforded far more leniency than anyone else but there was only so much insolence Elaine would tolerate, even from her.
The atmosphere crackled with tension, like his daughter's next move could set it alight, and Bill urged her to let it go via a gentle hand on her arm and a hushed, "Love…"
Gail ignored him (and her mother's unmistakable warning) to fiercely counter, "Too bad – I don't care for you punishing Dov just because he didn't grovel at your feet!"
Having reached her limit Elaine stood so they were level, the chair legs scraping noisily across the stone floor. "How dare you insinuate I would use my position to settle a personal slight?"
The only thing that kept Gail from backing down was the adrenaline coursing through her veins and years of repressed emotions fighting for release. "Well, that's how you work, isn't it? Manipulations and veiled threats and subtle machinations? Whatever you want by whatever means necessary?" Despite the voice in her head screaming at her to just. shut. up. she hissed, "I guess the downside to teaching me everything you know, Superintendent, is that I know you…"
Elaine gaped at the daughter she'd been struggling to recognize since her return. "I have no idea what's gotten into you lately but if it's that's boy's influence he can't be transferred soon enough."
"Right," Gail scoffed, "'Cause I can't just be fed up of you playing puppet master with everyone's lives…" Pointing a reproachful finger she promised, "Well, you pushed me on the wrong thing this time, Mother."
Secretly proud of her as he was Bill could only wish his daughter's stand came with less vitriol and more tact, knowing that when all was said and done she was going to regret her outburst. Before she could dig the hole any deeper he tried to lead her away. "Maybe we should…"
"Don't!" She rounded on him – breaking free of his grip – finger still crooked menacingly. "If you had anything resembling a spine it wouldn't have come to this. She controls us because we let her." Spinning back to her mother she lifted her hands in surrender. "Well, I'm done. You want the perfect kid to follow in your footsteps? Adopt. Because I'm done pretending I can live up to your…"
"Gail!"
Gail flinched at the harsh sound of her given name on his lips; the gruff 'Sergeant' voice he'd never once used on her as far back as she could remember… "Don't," she whispered without turning, feeling all of eight inches tall. "Please don't defend her to me." Standing idly by was one thing but to take her side outright…
Her husband's intervention couldn't have come at a better time, her being at an uncharacteristic loss for words, but Elaine was far from grateful. Affixing him with an icy glare she chastised, "I was wondering how long you would allow your daughter to speak to me that way."
"Oh, shut up, Elaine," he told her over his daughter's shoulder.
The expression on her mother's face – features wide in disbelief and silent horror – would have been endlessly satisfying if Gail weren't absolutely certain it was mirrored on her own.
Elaine's teeth met with an audible 'snap,' her search for a suitable comeback resulting in a caustic, if delayed, "When you two have come to your senses you can come find me to apologize."
Watching his wife storm out Bill knew he would be apologizing, not only to her but also to the girl standing shell-shocked before him... "Lucy?"
Gail slowly shifted her gaze from the empty doorway to his solemn face.
"I'm the one who asked Richard to put the transfer through, Love…"