Home Cooking
(Season 5: A Stroll on the Wild Side)
Inspector Brackenreid unlocked the holding cell. "Go home to your family, Slugger." He said with a bit of a sigh.
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Jackson jumped to his feet, eager to show how neatly he'd sobered up.
"Oh, and there's a desk at station house four waiting for you when you get back." The inspector told him.
Jackson paused a moment and suppressed a grimace. It would do no good now to insist on staying on a station five. Inspector Brackenreid had more reason to have him fired than he did to offer him a place. The best Jackson could do was be grateful he still had a job.
"Yes, sir." Jackson repeated.
He didn't stop once as he headed home, not even when his stomach growled loudly enough to attract a shocked stare from a passing stranger. At last he came to the wonderful sight of his front porch.
"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!"
A shrill chorus greeted him the moment he stepped through the door. Three little bodies charged across the room and flung themselves against his legs with the force and energy only children could muster. Jackson grunted and braced his hand against the door frame to keep from tottering.
"I swear, the lot of you are getting bigger by the day. You'll be taking me off my feet if I don't keep up my strength." He crouched down to hug each of them in turn.
Robert gave an embarassed grin at the tight squeeze. More and more his oldest was looking to become man of the house in his father's absence, but he still forgot himself from time to time and carried on like he was little. Joe, on the other hand, leapt straight into his father's arms, eager to be babied at every chance.
"Dolly got scared when you didn't come last night." Susan stared at him with watery eyes, clutching her rag doll tightly to her chest.
Jackson swallowed back a twinge of sadness when he looked at his daughter. His youngest was the very image of his wife, and fear that she might develop her mother's same illness plagued him daily.
"I love you even when I'm not here. You be a brave girl and remember that for me, alright?" He told her firmly.
Susan nodded slowly.
"Once last hug," Jackson scooped her up in his arms and swung her off her feet until she giggled.
"Come on, Dad. Ma kept supper late for you. I'm hungry!" Robert begged.
"Supper!" Jackson echoed. "You don't have to call me twice."
He hugged his wife when he came into the kitchen, putting all his gratitude into the gesture.
"There you are at last," She said, holding him tight.
She whisked them all to the table in a blink and doled out the food. He dug in, and closed his eyes as he chewed. Nothing compared to Mrs. Jackson's baked beans. Savoury and just a little sweet, this simple dish laid out by a loving hand embodied everything good. This was what life was really about; enjoying time with his family over a wholesome meal. All the restaurants and street vendors of Toronto combined couldn't tempt him away from home cooking.
"It's a relief to see you home safe, Gus. We really did worry." His wife briefly clasped his free hand.
"I had some things to clear up at work. In fact, I was meeting a new inspector. It looks like I'll be working at station house number four these days." Jackson watched his family's reactions.
His three kids stared back, not knowing what this could mean in their lives. His wife's mouth puckered anxiously before she spoke.
"Will this keep you late more often?"
"No, I shouldn't expect so," Jackson said quickly. "Things should go back to normal once I'm settled in. The switch just came a little suddenly, that's all. When Inspector Brackenreid approached me he seemed..." He shut his mouth, realizing he was about to put his foot in it.
He had some choice words he'd like to use on Brackenreid, but never in front of his kids. For all his soft talk, the inspector was no saint, not judging from the insults he threw about Mrs. Jackson. Gus Jackson wasn't about to have that brought up before his angels, any more than he'd utter salty language. He may not get to see his children as often as he'd like, but he took pride in the part he played in raising them to be decent people.
Looking back, Inspector Brackenreid had opened their talk with a friendly attitude, even something of a paternal twinkle. The insults that came after had only been to set him off, and he'd been foolish enough to take the bait. Some inspectors were kings of their station houses, but Brackenreid was a father set out to take pride in his constables. Being a constable was more than just a job, it was a calling. Just the same, a station house was more than just a workplace, it was a second home, and the lads a second family.
"I think we'll get along." He finally concluded.
If he could keep a civil tongue for one family, he could do it for another. Perhaps station house four wouldn't be so bad after all.