Disclaimer – As cool as it would be to be a member of Team Heller, it's evident I'm not. Therefore I don't own any part of the Mentalist TV series and am not making any money off these stories.
Thank you to both Cumberland River Relic and MakeMineAKiaora for your beta reading and your feedback. Truly valuable assistance!
Also thank you to JaneDoe51 for pointing out that Miss Grace VanPelt would have nooooo problem finding out what happened to the child. It was a point I hadn't even considered. Adding it really enriched the chapter, so thank you, M-O!
Chapter 53
Teresa felt like shit. Helping the St Michael's volunteers load the donations in the truck went a long way to alleviating her anxiety, but she still couldn't get rid of the flutter in her stomach.
No way, no way, no way…
She climbed the back stairs and as she was about to enter realized that the worst thing she could do was face the all-seeing Patrick Jane. Her worry would be written all over her face and he'd read it like it was written in a hundred-point neon-pink font.
There were some downsides to being married to a mentalist after all.
Teresa looked around for a seat, but the porch furniture had just been taken away by the truck. Taking a deep breath, she sat on the steps leading to the attic and leaned against the inside handrail.
Annie and Jared had been a young, energetic couple, full of love and lust. There couldn't possibly be any condoms left from whatever Tommy had lying around because they would have gone through them. Besides, if they were the reason Annie got pregnant, the two of them would have been much too smart to keep using bad condoms.
Although if that one Patrick used with her was newly purchased by the two youngsters, Annie was still guilty of poor judgment for buying cheap prophylactics to begin with.
She growled softly to herself and buried her face in her hands.
Patrick Jane is a certifiable genius and she wasn't an idiot, yet still they used it. What the hell was her problem for trying to blame a dead girl? If Patrick had gotten her pregnant, she was as 'guilty' of poor judgment as Annie and Jared may have been using Tommy's expired condoms that probably got Annie pregnant in the first place.
Blame. Stop blaming!
Cop instinct. Trying to find the guilty party for a crime. Except that the birth of Daniel wasn't a crime. He was a beautiful boy who added so much to her own life. He was the child directly responsible for her and Patrick stepping past the fears that had prevented them from facing their affection for one another.
And if their affection had created a life? Well…Teresa had to accept the fact.
But, God, she hoped they hadn't. Now was not a good time for yet another life-changing event. Lord knew, it would definitely break her.
"Reeza? What's wrong?"
She lifted her head, feeling her face grow cold and the lump form in her throat. The pain of his empathy in his expression and the thoughts that had been filling her now overwhelmed her with guilt. It was a struggle to stop any tears from escaping, especially when Patrick came through the door – he pushed it wide open – and sat next to her, placing a gentle hand on her back.
"Is there anything I can do?"
He left the door open to hear. He never forgot the baby. Her immature, irreverent, wholly irresponsible man was mature, reverent and completely responsible.
But she wouldn't be so irresponsible as to allow cold air to get in and give the boy a chill. Besides, there was no doubt, Mrs. M's gossip radar would turn on and she'd tune in to anything Teresa had to say. Standing abruptly, she crossed to the door.
"No," she said. "Let's get back to work."
He followed her into the apartment and then Tommy's room which was nearly empty.
"What needs to be done in here?" she asked.
Silence. She looked up to find him standing before the door with his arms crossed.
"What needs doing? You need to get whatever has built up inside you off your chest, that's what needs doing."
Unfortunate phrasing. Built up inside. Well, it wasn't going to come from her chest if it built up anyway.
"What are you talking about?" she asked. What the hell…bluffing worked in poker.
"Please. You think I can't tell when you're upset?"
"Even if I were, why should I tell you? You don't tell me when you're upset."
"I tell you every time I'm upset with you."
"What? I can't remember the last time you told me you're upset."
"Well…it's not my fault that I don't get upset with you, is it?"
She stared at him, her mouth dropped open. How had this turned into a discussion about him?
Then, damn it, came that charming smile when he knew he had her. He held his arms out for a hug. Cheeky bastard.
"Jane, I'm not upset with you, all right?"
His eyebrows shot up and the offer to hug disappeared when his arms returned to his side. The smile vanished too.
She'd called him 'Jane'. How stupid could she be? God, life was so frustrating!
Time to change the subject. Heaving a deep sigh, she turned toward the closet and pulled out a box. "Where's the rest of the money?"
"What money?"
"The rest of the Joliet river boat money. You hinted that there was more than what you'd stashed in the kitchen for me to find. I'm kinda tired of the hide and seek."
He made a strangled squeaking noise and she looked at his face. He stared wide-eyed in the direction of the garage with an expression of panic. Realization dawned on her; it had gone with the donations.
"No, no, no…" she groaned, starting to brush past him.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, laughing joyfully.
"I'm kidding, my dear," he said, bringing her into his embrace. "Trying to lighten your mood."
"By scaring the crap out of me?"
"That's my cranky Lisbon. Fierce and impatient."
"Patrick Jane, you sonnuva bitch…" She tried to pull away.
He only held tighter and began to rock with her. In time with his movement, he began to hum and then sing softly. "When I go to sleep at night, you're always a part of my dreams…"
"When do you ever sleep?" she demanded. "It seems like you're always awake trying to stick your manparts in me."
He burst out laughing and finally released his embrace, holding her at arm's length. "Manparts, Lisbon?"
She met his eye, feeling chagrined. "You know, I think I prefer 'Reeza'."
"Good, because I prefer you call me Patrick or even 'Trick'. Save Jane for when you're yelling at me at work."
The smirk on her lips came unbidden and then she laughed.
"Okay, Trick. I have more practice with that than Patrick so I may slip up once in a while."
"I'll try not to piss you off to that degree at home."
Home. Yes, they hadn't discussed that, had they? They hadn't really discussed anything about how and where they'd turn domestic. With the prospect that truly domestic was more and more likely, maybe they needed to. As she thought about how to open the topic, he spoke first.
"And regarding the money, there isn't that much more of it – two bunches, one in here." He gestured toward the closet. "And one in the linen closet."
She rolled her eyes and collapsed her shoulders. "I totally forgot to pack up the linen closet," she said.
"Well, it's not very big," he said. "And it wouldn't be a bad idea to use some of the towels to help pack the delicate stuff you want to bring back to Sacramento."
"Yes,…Sacramento. What are we going to do when we go home? Are you going to move in with me or…what?"
That damned twinkle again! His eyes positively glistened with his amusement. What had she missed?
"Well… I really don't believe there's enough room in the Aerie to move you and Daniel in there, unless you want to sleep in your office and just store your stuff along the wall. And we can put some boxes in your car and maybe in my trunk…"
Again she rolled her eyes and brought another carton from the closet, placing it in front of Tommy's twin mattress leaned against the wall. The bed, the nightstand and the dresser had been donated.
"If you weren't so much the rolling stone, the question wouldn't seem so silly."
Patrick held his hand up to his mouth like it held a microphone. "Papa was a rollin' stone," he sang, moving his body like a soul singer. "Wherever he lay his hat was his home. And when he diiiied, all that left us was aloooone!" Then he straightened up and grinned at her.
She sighed and jammed her fists into her hips.
"I'm serious. Anyplace you plant your ass tends to be where you're comfortable."
"Weelll, the phrase implies unwillingness, even inability to accept responsibility, but we both know that's not strictly applicable."
Is that why I'm feeling so irritated with him? Because he's always been so free and unattached? Happy to stay until he's happy to leave?
She stared at him and moved her hands to her stomach. His gaze darted toward the movement so she dropped her hands away. His soulful eyes turned to meet hers.
"I didn't expect to live, Teresa," he said softly. "I thought that I'd kill Red John and then go to prison or that I'd die in pursuit of him. I was determined not to do…this…" He gestured at what remained of Tommy's belongings. "…to anyone I left behind."
Then he moved to the closet and pulled down a shoe box from the top shelf, holding it toward her.
"I can't offer you things, my dear," he continued, "but I will always make certain you and the baby want for nothing."
With a trembling hand, she opened the box. It was full of bundles of money.
"How…how…?"
"How much is that? Should be sixty grand. There's another thirty in the linen closet. Middle shelf in a box under the three curling irons."
She fumbled the box of money in her surprise. He helped her catch it.
"A hundred and t-t-twenty thousand dollars?"
"Well…yeah. I had to win enough to leave plenty after taxes to make it worthwhile. It'll be about sixty grand, but that will go a long way toward keeping Daniel in quality diapers." He turned toward the door. "I'll go get the rest of it."
She swallowed hard, staring wide-eyed at the bundles of hundreds.
"Oh, and Teresa?"
Looking up, she found him leaned in the doorway from the hall. A kindly smile filled his face.
"I don't think you're pregnant. We're both very smart and we've been careful. But whether you are or you aren't, I'm committed to you for the rest of my life, even if you tell me to be otherwise."
The smile faded a little toward sadness, forming a thin line as he glanced at her abdomen. He then gave a slight nod and left.
To be continued…
