Restoration
Chapter 18
Nolan isn't sure what makes him more nervous, the thought that Rosalind might be sending another of her apprentices after him or his meeting with Councilman Abbot. Right now, the two fears are fighting each other for supremacy. With Harper in her car behind him, her sharp gaze surveying the area for any threats, the meeting is winning out. He pulls into the parking lot near the councilman's office, shoves his off duty piece at the small of his back, and gets out of his serviceable truck. If the councilman sees the vehicle, it may add to his credibility as someone who knows his way around a construction site.
The wheels on Abbot's chair squeak as he pushes out of his seat to shake John's hand. "It's good to see you again, Officer Nolan. I admit I'm curious about ideas concerning renewal, especially from the cop who saved my butt. I don't think I thanked you properly for that."
"Not necessary, Sir," Nolan replies as Abbot waves him to a chair. "Protecting you and anyone else in L.A. is my job, which brings me to why I wanted to talk to you. In my life before police work, I was a contractor in Foxburg, Pennsylvania. I built just about everything from dog runs to six-bedroom houses. Given the L.A. housing market, I decided the only way I could afford a decent home would be to buy one out of foreclosure and rehab it. I'm in the midst of that process now, and I couldn't help noticing how many houses in my neighborhood are standing empty or even scheduled for demolition, at no small expense to the city. With some TLC, those houses could hold families that are out on the street now. It would be a win-win situation for everyone."
"I agree that demolition should not be the answer, Officer Nolan. That's why that guy you arrested threw a punch at me. But right now, what you're talking about is a rough concept. Putting it into action will take time, money, and the support of the community. How do you propose to make that happen?"
John scoots his chair closer to Abbot's desk. "I was hoping to pick your brains about that, Sir, if you support the idea. Perhaps the city has a grant of some type that could pay for materials. Police come face to face with the homeless problem every day. If we put together a viable approach to the problem, I believe I could enlist the help of fellow officers to drum up enthusiasm and volunteer labor."
Abbott strokes his roughening jaw. "Give me some time to think about the details, Officer Nolan. If your project looks feasible, I'll be in touch. I take it that my office has your number."
"Yes, Sir, but," John pulls a card from his shirt pocket, "this is all my contact information, including my private email and badge number. Please feel free to send me any questions that come up."
Abbot rises as a visible cue to the end of the meeting. "Thank you, Officer Nolan. I appreciate your dedication to serving the people of this city."
Harper's eyes sweep over any approach to Nolan's car. It was easy enough to spot the babysitters who should be following him as soon as he finishes with the councilman. She hopes that they gain in effectiveness what they lose in subtlety. She'll be watching how good a job they do following John home and clearing the area. Then she'll order the drawing table that she dreamed up for Lila. Maybe she'll order shelves too, or get John to build some. Her excuse for watching his back was off the cuff, but her daughter does need places to work on her art and store her supplies. Nolan had remarked on the girl's talent, something Nyla had already observed. Unfortunately, her ex, Donovan, is too practical to lend much support to his daughter's dreams of being an artist. Dreams can get you through almost anything. Over the past few years, Nyla's been forced to experience that firsthand.
Nolan tries the best he can to settle down for the night. He'd like to call Grace, just for the comfort of hearing the sound of her voice. Even more than that, he'd love to spend another night at her apartment, on the couch, or wherever. But if he is Rosalind's obsession and a target of her newest apprentice, the last thing he needs is to pull Grace, or God forbid, Oliver, into it. He has his alarm system set. Armstrong's detail is outside. He should be fine. He just has to get that message from his brain to his stubbornly wide-open eyes.
For 18 months, Grace hasn't felt lonely in her queen bed. After her separation, the emptiness on the other side was a relief. She no longer had to try to convince herself she still harbored feelings that were long gone — if she'd felt them in the first place. She can't help believing that there's always one love that burns in your memory and heart, no matter who comes along later. For her, that love was John Nolan. She'd convinced herself that it was eclipsed by pain and resentment, but after his explanation and apology, she feels little of either, just a glowing ember of attraction slowly being fanned to flames.
They're not college kids anymore. For God's sake, John has a son the age he was when they were together. And Grace has Oliver. The boy changes everything. Whatever she does has to be with his best interests in mind. Is that getting involved with John again? She honestly doesn't know, but she'll have to figure it out. She wonders if John's asleep yet. She'd really love just to hear his voice. She did leave a few of John's voicemails on her phone. For now, listening to those will have to do.
Lucy's body refuses to follow her command to lie down, at least not all the way down. She's propped against pillows, knees bent and the soles of her feet flat against the sheet. The book Becka brought is up against her thighs. The two women went through a lot of the text together before Becka left for the night, but they didn't finish it.
It's no secret how the story will come out. The summary is on the back cover. The cop wins the battle to return to duty. The vital thing to Lucy is how. Thank God, the fight isn't portrayed as simple, or anything but three steps forward and two steps back. At least Lucy can trust that it wasn't sugar-coated. Recovery isn't easy or straightforward, and there are relapses. She's hanging on to that last part. Just because she has a bad minute or hour or night, is no reason for Lucy to give up on herself. If there's anything she's sure of, it's that she wants to be a cop. She gave up John Nolan for her career. There's no way that Rosalind or Caleb or anyone is going to take what she's fought so hard to achieve, away from her.
Slowly her eyelids drift closed as her heels slide down the sheet, and she pulls the extra pillows from beneath her head. Finally, she nods off, the book still beneath her hand, a talisman to banish the terrors from her dreamscape.