Curve Ball

Will opened the door to reveal his brother standing there. "Hey man, come on in."

"Thanks." He said as he shucked his coat and looked around. "Where's Liam?"

"Down the hall. The neighbors have a little girl who's his age, and they just got a kitten. Apparently I am no competition for a tiny ball of fur."

"How was the day?" He asked as he smiled. Liam loved animals and had asked for various pets over the years. But Jay had always said no as their lifestyle was just too busy to include a dependent animal. He also couldn't afford to worry about pet policies if they should ever have to move.

"Great. We had good time. We spent several hours at the museum. He loved the submarine. We ate lunch. Did you know he wanted Chinese food so he could have tofu? What ten year old wants tofu?" He said shaking his head. "For dinner I suggested burgers and fries. He ate his fries, my fries and the pickles off his burger. Is he getting pickier?" Will said as he grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge.

"I don't know man. He picked all the pepperoni off of his pizza a couple of weeks ago."

"He's never eaten pepperoni," Will said setting a beer down on the coffee table indicating Jay to have a seat.

"Thanks man. He hasn't? I swear he liked it."

"Nope. I've never seen him eat it. Or hotdogs. I took him to that White Sox game with dad a few years ago and he didn't want a hotdog. What kid doesn't want a hotdog?"

"Yeah, that is odd." Jay agreed, taking a drink of his beer.

"Shit. I just figured out the common denominator." Will stated.

"To what?"

"His picky eating. He doesn't eat the meat. Or he just picks at it until it's unrecognizable."

Jay looked like he had been hit over the head with a baseball bat, the revelation all too clear. "Bridget was a vegetarian. I fed him chicken nuggets and fish sticks when he was with me and I guess he ate them." He said trying to remember back when Liam was little. "Or did he? He always ate whatever side dishes I served. Dammit, I'm a worse father than I thought."

"What? You're a great father." Will encouraged.

"My kid doesn't eat meat and I don't realize it for five years. Yeah, I'm right on top of it."

"He eats it, just very little of it. I can't believe he hasn't said anything about it."

"Speaking of talking, did he say anything about last night?" Jay asked.

Will took a swig of beer and looked over at Jay. "He said you busted him setting off firecrackers and didn't take it too well."

"That's all?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I lost control Will. I put my hands on him."

"Whoa, did you hit him?"

"No! Did he say I did?" Jay asked, his eyes wide.

"No. All he told me is that you were really mad at him and he didn't understand why."

Jay went on to recount the details to his brother. "So many things could have gone wrong."

"For sure. But they didn't. I think that maybe it reminded you of something from the past. You know PTSD is common for soldiers, for cops too. You can't ignore it. You can't pretend the memories aren't there. You deal with a lot and are a responsible for a child at the same time. Sometimes it all doesn't mesh."

"Like when and what? When has my job and parenting clashed, other than the long hours?" Jay asked setting his beer down on the table with a thud.

"Like that time a couple of years ago when he couldn't wake you up," Will reminded as he recalled the frantic phone call.

Two years ago~

"Uncle Will, I can't wake my dad up. His alarm was ringing and he didn't turn it off so I came in to his room and have been shaking him and he still won't wake up." Liam had yelled, his voice shaky and panicky.

"Okay, take a breath and then put the phone on speaker okay?" Liam did as requested and Will could hear the phone being set down. "Can you still hear me?"

"Yes. I put the phone down and shook him again but he won't wake up."

"Okay, is he face up or face down?"

"He's on his stomach. There's no blood anywhere, he's still wearing his clothes. But he doesn't have his gun or badge on."

"Put your hand by his mouth and tell me if you feel him breathing."

"He is, it feels warm."

"Okay. Go into the kitchen and get a small cup and fill it with cold water and then come back to the phone." Liam scurried off and came back a moment later.

"I'm back," he announced.

"Is it cold?"

"Yes. I put an ice cube in it. That's why it took me a minute. I need a chair, I can't reach the freezer."

"Okay. I want you to pour the water on the back of his neck. But Liam, as soon as you do I want you to step back because he might jump up in a hurry."

"Okay."

And Liam did both as Jay flew upwards, looking for whatever had taken his slumber from him.

Present time~

"I was working a case. A CI, I was undercover." Jay said after Will had reminded him of the turmoil from that morning.

"Yes. And your eight year old son thought you were dead. You were passed out, probably drove drunk and left him wondering if he was an orphan. Jay, you're always working a case. You have to think about Liam in your big picture."

"I do. He had a sitter until I came home. And for your information, I wasn't drunk. Just tired. I had to be at work every morning and work the Informant late at night. I was exhausted. And you're not helping me think that I'm a decent father." But Jay was questioning himself. He knew he had rationalized and justified too many poor decisions during that time. He had allowed himself to lose control when he had been undercover as Ryan and enjoyed way too many nights with Camila, pretending that he was a single and unencumbered man with no responsibilities.

"You are a decent father. You're a great father. You have a lot on your plate and you are making it work. How did you put your hands on him last night?"

"I grabbed his arms and shook him. Not much, but some. I just wanted him to understand the danger. He just wouldn't understand."

"Probably because he couldn't Jay. Look PTSD isn't something to be ashamed of. You went to war for this country. Liam knows that and is very proud of you. What was it that had you so freaked out? You hear gunshots all of the time. It had to be something big to trigger you enough to grab Liam."

Jay took a long drink and looked back at the door as if Liam was about to walk through it. He turned on the couch so he was looking at his brother as he held on tightly to the beer bottle. "We had been heavily patrolling this neighborhood. Been there for days and days," Jay said, his face was somewhere between anxious and serene. I had watched these kids play soccer, kicking the ball around, smiles on their faces. How they could see anything positive in the destruction all around them, I'll never know. Hell, I had even kicked the ball around with them a few times.

"There had been two boys that seemed to become attached to me. They were brothers, around Liam's age nine or ten. And one day, their ball had gone flat. Their uncle tried to get them a new one, but he came back with firecrackers instead. I had heard of their punctured ball and went in search to find them something to use. I figured if anyone had one, I could buy it—good old American cash. I was heading back up the street, successful with a blue and white ball, knowing how excited they would be. I was probably twenty yards away when the firecrackers went off. I remember the boys pointing at them fascinated and then—then their heads exploded. They dropped like rocks in a pool of blood."

"Jesus, Jay. Do you know who did it?"

Jay shrugged. "Have no idea. I just stood there holding that damn soccer ball. Nobody in our unit owned up to it. We had cleared the area, but fear was rampant and it's possible that someone was scared that the noise would alert insurgents or they just reacted to what they believed to be a threat. Either way, they were dead. Just two innocent little kids, and they were gone, just like that. I had gotten the letter with the sonogram picture just days before. Found out that I was going to be a father.

"So when I saw Liam with the firecrackers, I just—I just couldn't handle it. Then I couldn't handle that he couldn't understand. Will, there was still a guy with a gun. I still have a right to be concerned and pissed off."

"Yes you do. The situation could have gotten out of hand. But, there was a better way to get through to him."

"I know," Jay said as he set his beer down. "I blew it."

"You didn't blow it. You just have to adjust your methods. All parents blow it. Hell if we had a dollar for each time Dad blew it, neither one of us would have to work."

"Amen brother," Jay said picking his beer back up and clinking it with Will's.

"Hey did that baseball coach get a hold of you?" Will asked, changing gears.

"Liam's baseball coach?" Jay asked.

"Yeah. He left a voicemail with me since he'd been unable to get in touch with you. Apparently, you hadn't returned his messages."

"Yeah, I put you on the form as an emergency contact. No, I haven't returned his multiple messages. But he did show up at the district."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. And naturally I was there." Jay said thinking back.

"I noticed Liam didn't play fall baseball this year." Will said.

"He would have been on this guys team. Coach Habner. It wasn't happening. Besides I wanted him to try soccer. He needs to expand his horizons."

"How come?"

"Because it's good for him to have multiple options and I think he had Liam pitch too often. Plus the secret."

"What secret?" Will asked as his eyes widened. "You're like a ninja kiddo. How was the kitten?" He asked as he saw Liam suddenly appear.

"Fine. Little, hairy, and full of teeth and claws." Liam replied.

"Hi buddy," Jay greeted as Liam walked over. He pulled him into his lap and could feel his sons resistance. "Ready to go?"

"I guess."

"Tell Uncle Will thank you for the day." Jay reminded as he let him go.

"Thanks Uncle Will. I had a great time," he said giving him a hug.

"Anytime kid. We'll try for another fun day next month. Sound good?"

"Definitely." He answered as he heard a shriek in the hallway. He ran to the door with Jay pushing him aside to get there first. "It's just Dara. She's the girl with the kitten," Liam explained, peeking around the door.

"Help me Liam, Twinkie got out." She yelled as an orange fluff ball went running by and continued down the hallway.

Liam looked back at Jay who nodded his consent. Jay and Will stood in the doorway watching the kid's attempt to corral the kitten.

"Look. I know you haven't had an easy time. You had a rough time when you got back home. You spent a lot of time drinking, partying among other things."

"I know. I didn't even go see my son for six months. I was back in Chicago for six months before I was ready."

"But then you were ready and look at you now. You're a successful CPD detective, in an elite task force, a single father of a fantastic son."

"Yeah, he gets the credit for that."

"I know you had a tough time after Dad died. Sometimes your reactions come from the right place but aren't always the best decisions. Getting shot, diving deep undercover, drinking when you should be home."

"Wow, tear me down why don't you? Look, I know I'm far from perfect, but that kid is my anchor."

"Liam isn't an anchor, he's your son. And if you need help, for you, for him, then there is no shame in asking for it. I have faith in you, but more importantly, he has faith in you," Will said nodding at Liam who had managed to scoop up the wayward feline near the elevator.

The ride home was quiet. Jay decided to let the silence sit. Once inside Jay stopped Liam from going to his room. "Hey, can we talk for a minute?" Liam sat down at the kitchen table and began to fiddle with the strings of his hoodie. "I'm sorry about last night. I didn't mean to grab you. I didn't handle it well."

"Okay," Liam whispered as he continued to focus on his strings.

"Will said you had tofu for lunch. Do you like that stuff?" Liam shrugged. "The other night when I made that lasagna and you basically performed surgery on it. What were you doing?"

"Scraping the meat out of it. You didn't really make it, you just put in the oven." Liam clarified.

"True. You wouldn't have wanted it if I had tried to make it. I just thought you were picky, but all of this time you've been hiding the fact that you haven't been eating the meat?"

"I guess. Mom was a vegetarian and it's like having a piece of her with me if I do the same thing. It's stupid."

"No it isn't. You don't like hamburgers and chicken?"

"Chicken tastes like rubber and hamburgers are greasy. And chicken comes from chicken and hamburgers from a cow." Jay raised his eyebrows. "Mom read me a book about how animals are our friends not our food. I guess it stuck with me."

"Why didn't you tell me? I could have bought different options at the store."

"You already have," Liam said getting up and walking over to the refrigerator and opened the freezer and jumped up and grabbed a bag of nuggets. "They aren't chicken. See there's an apostrophe in the middle of the word. It's made of vegetables. I make sure to pick them out and you didn't even notice, not even after you ate them."

"Wow. Okay." Jay said as he realized just how much he had missed. "Why didn't you just tell me that you didn't want to eat meat?"

"I don't know. Because I thought you might think it was stupid."

"No I wouldn't."

"I figured you'd notice at some point. But until then it was my secret, mine and mom's."

"Okay then. Well, next trip to the store, we'll find things together okay?"

"Okay." Liam said grabbing the bag of nuggets and putting them back in the freezer. He turned to go to his room.

"Hang on buddy," Jay said again causing Liam's shoulders to sag. "I'm not done yet."

"Why did my coach go to your work?" Liam interjected.

"You heard that huh?"

"Yeah."

"Is it because I didn't play fall baseball?"

"Yes it was."

"Why couldn't I play?"

"I told you why. Don't you remember?"

"Because of the secret?"

"Yes." Jay answered thinking back to when Gary Habner showed up a week ago at the district. Sargent Platt had told him a gentleman was waiting to see him.

Two weeks earlier~

"Hey, Mr.—Officer—"

"Detective," Jay filled in. "Look I'm busy, what can I do for you?"

"Detective. Way cooler job than me. Not much of a thrill in accounting. Yeah, I tried calling you. Left several messages but you hadn't gotten back to me."

"Yet, here you are," Jay said, wearing his stoic police face.

"I wished you had let Liam play fall baseball. He would have gotten some valuable experience. He was amazing last year as a nine year old and in the spring he'd still be in the ten and under league. He really would have benefited from a few more months of practice and games.

"He's got talent and a love for the game. He could really succeed and even exceed."

"Well, the season is almost over now. Is there anything else I can do for you?" Jay asked.

"I guess I was just wondering why you wouldn't let him play."

"And if I was going to let him play next spring?"

"That too."

"Look, I work a lot of hours—" Jay began.

"I would have had no problem helping out. Picking him up, dropping him off. Besides I know that he played soccer instead."

"He did. My neighbor coached. He took responsibility for Liam. I wanted him to try another sport." Jay said hoping that Liam wouldn't be so focused on baseball.

"My problem with baseball is that you used him too much. You knew you always had a chance to win with him on the mound. You used him as a starter and at times a reliever. His wrist and elbow would be sore and you'd put him right back out there. He was nine years old. If anyone is going to live vicariously through my son it's going to be me. Besides you asked him to keep a secret and that is so far over the line," Jay said getting in the coaches face.

"It wasn't anything bad. I swear. Did he tell you what it was?"

"No, he refused." Jay thought privately just how much the boy was like his mother, keeping things close and quiet. "I saw you talking to him privately after one game and asked him what you had discussed and all he told me was that you said it was secret between the two of you. I told him if he didn't tell me there would be no baseball in September. But he still kept quiet. Now how is that supposed to make a father feel?

"He kept his secret and I kept my promise. I can't say I was too upset about withholding the season from him."

"It wasn't anything bad. I'm sorry. You're right. I shouldn't have told him to keep a secret from you." Jay just raised his eyebrows as he crossed his arms. "Curveballs. I had shown him how to throw a curveball. He mastered it in no time. But he told me you saw him practicing it and told him he wasn't allowed to throw them."

"I did see him and I told him he was too young. Way too young. It was too much stress on his elbow. He didn't have the musculature yet."

"But he did have great mechanics. That's the trick, mechanics. He already had a great fastball and change-up, I just thought if he could sprinkle in an occasional curveball, he'd be—well nobody would be able to figure him out. That game, the one you saw, he had pitched well."

"But not well enough," Jay offered.

"He was frustrated. So, since you didn't make it to many games I told that maybe he could throw a few curveballs, but only when I told him. Then I noticed you were waiting for him, so I told him to keep it a secret. That's it, I swear."

Jay shook his head. "I'll think about the spring season. But even if I do let him play, I may request a different coach."

"But we're in a neighborhood league. The kids all live close by."

"I have to get back to work," Jay said as he turned and walked up the stairs and back to to the office.

Jay was snapped back to the present as Liam began to speak. "You have secrets."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"The firecrackers. I mean, I get it. It was stupid and I'm not supposed to play with lighters, but there was something else going on. Something that you won't tell me. A secret. Why can you have secrets and I can't?"

"What makes you think I have secrets?"

"It's in your eyes. Mom always said eyes will tell you everything you need to know. You're eyes were like they are when you wake up from a nightmare." Jay wasn't sure what to say. He knew that his eyes probably looked wild and unfocused when he woke up from the midst of difficult dream. "So, why do you get to have secrets and I don't?"

"Because you're a kid and you're not allowed to have secrets."

"And I'm not supposed to lie either right?"

"Of course."

"But you can lie."

"What are you talking about?" Jay asked again, uncertain how this conversation had started or where it was going.

"You've lied to me."

"About what?" Jay asked, his mind spinning. His guilt taking him back to his time with Camilla and nights out, the drinking, the lying to everyone. The promises to Voight, to himself, to Liam that he would do better.

"You got shot. A couple of years ago, you told me that you had fallen down the stairs tackling someone, but it was a lie. That bruise on your chest came from a bullet. You had your vest on and that's the only reason you aren't dead."

"What are you even talking about?"

"See, you're still lying," Liam accused, standing his ground. "It was on the news. The arsonist from the fire in grandpa's building. The guy is killed and you have a big bruise. I'm not stupid Dad."

"No you're not," Jay said, realizing just how smart his son was.

"But you are a liar and have secrets."

"Not everything is for you to know. Some things are for adults to keep to themselves."

"So it's okay for you to do whatever you want?"

"I didn't say that."

"There's two sets of rules right? One for you and a different one for me."

"Yes, fair or not there is."

"Then it's okay for you to be a hypocrite. Because that's exactly what you are—a fucking hypocrite."

"Oh hell no," Jay said standing up, towering over his son. "That is not okay. You do not speak to me or any other adult like that. I want you in your room right now."

"Fine," Liam huffed. "You don't have to come in to tell me goodnight." Jay closed his eyes as Liam disappeared towards his room. "Curveball," he said as he reappeared in the kitchen a second later. "The secret was that coach wanted me to throw curveballs when you weren't at the games."

Jay sat back down at the table and closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. This was supposed to be a nice calm talk about the incident from last night. He did want to apologize for his reaction but also hammer home Liam's inappropriate behavior and how dangerous it had been. Instead his son had totally hijacked the entire conversation, called him out as a liar and totally disrespected him in the process using a word he had always been careful not to say around the kid, until last night that was. He was ten years old, but somehow he had just owned a seasoned detective.

Despite Liam's declaration that Jay need not check on him that night, he did anyway. He peeked in just after ten o'clock to find his son asleep, half under the covers. His bedside lamp on, a book sliding off the bed. He picked the book up and looked at it, the emotions threatening to take hold. It was the well read, well worn copy of Charlotte's Web. It had been Bridget's favorite and she often read it to Liam. On the inside cover she had written: "To my son, the best friend a pig or spider could ever have." No wonder the kid didn't eat meat. Jay had also read the book to Liam before the boy declared he could read it himself. As he looked through the pages, he saw traces of her all around. Asterisks, smiley faces and hearts dotted the margins. Passages were underlined and highlighted, the book held Bridget on every page, it held their relationship in-between its pages. He traced the doodles with his finger and thought about a lifetime of what-if's. The story was of deep friendships, life, death, sacrifices and starting over. He took the book and put in on the nightstand, pulled the blankets up, causing Liam to stir a bit, but not wake up. He then put his head down next Liam's and just breathed in his son's essence. He kissed him on the forehead and turned off the light hoping for a better day tomorrow.

Soundtrack: Sounds of Someday by Radio Company