"Thank you again for inviting us, you really didn't need to," Dan Healey said with a grin as he received the bowl of roast potatoes from his partner and spooned a couple onto his plate. "My wife is glad to have the night off; she's going out with the girls." He chuckled wickedly.
Jeannie looked at him with a warm smile. "It's our pleasure, believe me. Mike and I owe you and Norm a lot for what you did for us."
Her father, cutting off a piece of the roast on his plate, nodded in agreement. Beside him, Steve sat back with an affected frown and a sigh. "So, ah, so what about me? I got down there before they did, and I did a lot more, you know…" he whined dramatically, pointing at Healey and Haseejian with his fork.
Mike, without missing a beat, glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "You're family, it doesn't count." He put the piece of roast in his mouth.
The other three trying not to laugh, Steve glared at his partner for a long second then shrugged. "Yeah, I guess you're right," he said matter-of-factly and sat forward, spearing a carrot on his plate.
Everyone laughed genially; the overall atmosphere in the cramped kitchen was warm and relaxed. Jeannie had called the office when she and Steve had returned from their shopping expedition and invited the two sergeants to dinner then set about preparing said meal, with Steve's help. Mike, true to his word, had spent the day in bed, mostly sleeping, only getting dressed and coming downstairs when Healey and Haseejian had arrived. Now, around the kitchen table that had been expanded with the leaf they seldom had to use, the small group that had survived the drama that had been Eldred were enjoying each others' company in a much more peaceful setting.
"So what's happening… in the office…?" Mike asked slowly, trying to sound conversational.
The words were barely out of his mouth when his daughter turned on him sharply. "What did I say? No shop talk, remember? You're not going back to work for at least a week and I don't want you obsessing over things that you can't control." As Mike looked down at his plate like a scolded puppy, she shifted her attention to the other side of the table, pinning both sergeants with a ferocious glare.
Healey swallowed heavily and nodded; Haseejian studied his plate, tossing quick glances in her direction from under his lowered brow. Steve was watching it all with barely contained amusement, relieved, for once, that he was not the recipient of Jeannie's motherly ire.
Clearing his throat, Steve forked another another slice of roast onto his plate and broke the silence. "So, ah, I picked up copies of the Examiner and Chronicle so Mike and I can go through the want ads for a car. If, ah, if you guys hear of a good car available -"
Mike had looked up, grateful that his partner had managed to change the subject so deftly, and interrupted, "Yes, please. If you guys know of someone who has a good late-model sedan for sale, preferably with low mileage, I'd be very interested."
Both Healey and Haseejian looked at their boss and his partner thankfully for getting them off the hook. Nodding quickly, Healey blurted out, "Yeah, of course. Um, are you loyal to Ford or do you care -?"
"No, not at all," Mike said quickly. "I don't really care what make it is as long as it's around the same size as the Falcon - the trunk space, you know. And I'd prefer a four-door."
"I hear the Monte Carlo is a great car," Haseejian offered and all the men nodded.
"Yeah, I heard that too," Mike concurred.
And they were off, spending at least the next ten minutes talking about cars and the pros and cons of various makes and models. Smiling softly to herself, Jeannie quietly went about finishing her meal, starting to quietly clear the table when the others were done, pouring their coffees. She was relieved not to be the centre of attention and not feeling the pressure of having to contribute to the conversation. She wasn't entirely sure, but she had a feeling that Steve and her father were being deliberate in their attempts to steer the discussion away from her, and she was immensely grateful.
She opened the oven, put on the mitts and took out a beautifully browned apple pie. They were still talking cars when she set the plates of steaming pie slices with small dollops of vanilla ice cream on the table in front of them.
"Whoa," Healey exclaimed in surprise and delight as he leaned back when the plate appeared in front of him. "That smells amazing." He looked up at Jeannie with a huge grin and inquiring eyes.
She smiled back and shook her head. "Nope, I was too busy with the roast." She nodded across the table at a smugly smiling Steve. Healey looked at his colleague with a confused frown. "You made this?" He pointed at the dessert plate with his fork.
"Umh-humh." The younger man nodded once. Beside him, Mike glanced up with a very amused grin then, chuckling quietly, looked down at the plate that had just been placed in front of him.
"You baked this apple pie?" Healey was obviously having a hard time with the concept.
"Well, I didn't bake it - the oven did that - but I did make it." Steve's tone was pedantic without being condescending; Mike was impressed, and he nodded in admiration at the plate as he forked off the tip of his slice.
"You did not," Haseejian rebutted from the other side of the table, his own face contorted with doubt.
"He did so," Jeannie said pointedly as she sat, glancing at Steve with a smile and a quick, confirming nod which he returned. "He's very good at following directions and I think he did a wonderful job." He looked at the sergeants with raised eyebrows. "Don't you?"
They looked at her blankly for a moment, then nodded. "Oh, yeah, absolutely," Healey nodded, cutting off a slice with his fork. Haseejian just nodded quickly and looked down. Both Mike and Steve were chuckling silently as a grinning Jeannie turned her attention back to her plate.
The rest of the meal passed in genial camaraderie, and it turned out to be a wonderful night for them all, a much needed respite from the drama and its continuing repercussions. Healey's concern for Jeannie's emotional welfare had not been lost on either her father or Steve, who had both clocked the Irish sergeant's occasional solicitous and avuncular glances in the young woman's direction throughout the evening. And they were heartened by his obvious concern, though they knew there was nothing Healey could do either.
# # # # #
Mike sat slowly and gingerly, holding his breath. Steve had closed the bedroom door and was standing over him. "You okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the older man said quickly, exhaling loudly. "Just tired, and sore."
"I'll get some fresh water." Steve picked up the almost empty glass from the bed table and disappeared down the hall to the bathroom.
Mike had his shirt off when he got back. "Thanks. Ah, listen, I'm all right, I can do this." He waved the younger man away. "Why don't you go help Jeannie with the dishes."
Steve put the glass down and moved the bottle of Tylenol next to it. 'Yeah, I will. Listen, ah, I just wanted you to know she's going to come by around 11 tomorrow, take Jeannie out to lunch. You okay with that?"
Mike's eyebrows snapped up. "Oh yeah, you bet. That'll be perfect."
"Good. So look, ah, I'm going to go into work for the day, like I said, and if you stay in bed all day, then Jeannie won't feel guilty about leaving you to go out to lunch."
"Yeah, sure, of course. Good idea."
Steve had taken the pajamas out of the top bureau drawer and tossed them on the bed beside the older man. "Okay, well, I'll go down and do my husbandly chores," he chuckled dryly. "Try to get a good night's sleep."
Mike laughed softly. "I will. Hey, thanks."
Standing at the door, Steve winked. "You're welcome." He closed the door after him.
# # # # #
"Your pie was a big hit," Jeannie said with a chuckle as he stepped into the kitchen. She was filling the sink.
"Thanks," he crowed comically. "I had a great teacher. I gotta remember how to do that so I can impress my dates."
"You cook for your dates?" She started to put the dirty glasses and cups in the sink.
"Well, no… I haven't yet but… well, you never know…"
They both laughed. He took a fresh dish towel out of a lower drawer, studying her from behind. He could see the thin, almost fibrous hold she was maintaining on her frayed emotions, trying to appear normal. He knew it was an act but one he would let her maintain. His only hope was that the course of action he had set in motion would unfold in the way he had planned. If it didn't, then he wasn't sure what to do next, and that scared him more than he wanted to admit.
# # # # #
There was a light knock on the door and Mike raised his head from the newspaper. "Come in," he called. Jeannie pushed the door open and stepped into the room. He smiled at her from overtop his reading glasses.
"Find anything yet?" she asked as she crossed to the bed. He had gotten dressed and was lying on top of the bedspread, the folded newspaper against an upraised knee and a pen in his right hand. He had been circling possible used car want ads.
"A couple," he said with a shrug, "but nothing that screams 'buy me' yet."
She chuckled and sat on the side of the bed. "I know it's early but I was wondering what you might want for dinner."
"Dinner? We haven't even had lunch yet," he laughed.
She smiled. "I know."
He put the paper down and frowned at her. "Are you that bored? Sweetheart, I'm okay, you know that. Why don't you think about going back to school? Haven't you missed enough already?"
She bit her lip, frowning, and stared at him. "Not yet, Daddy. I'm not ready yet… okay?"
He looked at her for along beat, then nodded, swallowing heavily. "Okay," he said softly and the smile she rewarded him with was brief and sad. And his heart broke a little more. He smiled. "Listen, ah, I don't want anything for lunch, I had a big breakfast. If I want something, I'll just wander down and help myself."
"You sure."
"Sure I'm sure. I don't want you waiting on me. Besides, I have a car to find," he chuckled as he picked up the newspaper again. "It's not an easy task, you know."
Smiling, she leaned towards him and kissed his cheek. "I love you," she said softly.
"And I love you too," he grinned.
# # # # #
She was curled up in the recliner, reading "The Osterman Weekend", the only contemporary novel she could find on her father's shelves that didn't have something to do with sports, when the doorbell rang. With a frown, she put the hardback book facedown on the coffee table and got to her feet, looking at her watch. It was 11 a.m.
She turned the lock and opened the door. A cute young woman about her height, with medium length dark brunette hair was standing on the stoop. Her face exploded into a wide and appealing grin and her dark eyes lit up.
"You must be Jeannie," she said enthusiastically in a low and husky voice, thrusting out her right hand. "Hi. I'm Sherry Reese. I worked with your father and Steve. And I'm here to take you out to lunch."