Pete was attempting the impossible; sleeping the morning away while in the hospital. He kept his promise to Gary, the boy he met in the stairwell, staying with him until it was time for the boy's surgery. Reading "The Cricket in Times Square" had lulled Gary into a fitful sleep, but Pete was there every time the child woke up. Throughout the night, he picked up right where they left off.
While Gary slept, Pete flipped through the book, lost in memories of his own childhood; much of it spent reading when he should have been doing something else. While his mother was a teacher and his father a farmer, his grandfather was a dreamer who exposed him to Jules Verne, Mark Twain, H.G. Wells, Swift, Melville and Poe. His parents taught him about responsibility, the value of hard work and protecting the family; his grandfather instilled in him the credo that family isn't defined by blood.
Last night, Gary was family.
When Beth Meyers rushed into her son's room, she expected to see a boy on the verge of panic. Her hair had the pressed down look common to waitresses who are required to wear a hair net. She had thrown a sweater on over her uniform, not bothering to take the time to change her clothes before coming to sit with her son. A large tote bag hung on her left shoulder, a change of clothes visible through the unzipped tote. As much as she wanted to be with him that night, her job wouldn't allow her the time off. With her husband stationed on a Destroyer off the coast of Southeast Asia, Beth couldn't risk losing her job.
Mrs. Meyers stopped short at the sight of a strange man, in pajama bottoms and a robe, sitting by her son's bed. Torn between calling for a nurse and attacking like a mother bear protecting her cub, she hesitated when Pete smiled up at her. That small opening allowed him to put his Irish charm to work.
"You must be Gary's mom. I'm Pete. Gary and I became friends last night." Pete stood up, set the book on the bedside table and moved away from the spot by Gary's head. "He told me that you had to work, so I stayed to keep him company."
"Thank you….Pete, you said?" Beth Meyers, smiled back, but she moved sideways, giving her a view of the hallway. If she was looking for reinforcements, she was out of luck; there wasn't a nurse in sight.
"They know I'm in here." Pete took a few steps back, towards the window; giving Beth some room.
"Don't worry. I'm harmless." Pete gave her a lopsided grin, his eyes sparkling as he laid it on thick. It wouldn't help Gary's anxiety to have his mother start yelling for help. "Really. I'll leave if you want."
"You don't look harmless, but I don't think that someone who sat here all night reading to my son means to hurt him or me." She set the tote bag on the foot of the bed, offering her hand to Pete.
"Beth Meyers. It's nice to meet you."
"Pete Malloy" After shaking hands Pete leaned back against the other bed in the room; flashing a grin. "You're not buying the harmless part, huh?"
"Not totally. Did you expect me to?"
"Not totally, in here I am", he sighed, using his right fist, thumb pointed towards the city beyond the window. "Out there; mostly."
Gary's mother's right brow arched at the "mostly" comment, but any questions she might have had, were precluded by her son's voice.
"Mom, is it time to get my tonsils out? I'm ready." It was the boy's tone of voice that surprised Beth the most. She had reluctantly left her understandably upset child and returned to find him calmer, more settled. This stranger had certainly been a Godsend, mostly harmless or not.
In the end, Pete stayed past Gary's departure for the operating room to keep Beth Meyers company, that is until the fourth floor nurses station called down for him.
O~O~O
After Jim's lecture about facing death and not trying to be a hero, they handled a backyard intruder call that turned out to be a large German Shepard breaking into a dog pen to get to a female dog that went into heat earlier than expected. Jim wasn't sure who was more embarrassed, them or the owner. Clearly, the Shepard had no regrets.
"I wonder what a half German Shepard, half Basset Hound pup will look like." To his credit, Kasak managed to not laugh while the owner of the Basset Hound demanded that the Animal Control officer castrate the offender before returning him to his owners.
"It'll be short, one pointy ear standing up, with the other ear drooping to the ground, it'll have the black and tan coat of its sire, except for its mother's brown and white tail."
Jim couldn't blame the owner for being mad. "Sheba" was a prize winning hound who will now be skipping her appointment next week with Quincy, a similarly pedigreed male Basset. Still, despite her demanding that they stop the dogs from doing what they were doing, there was no way that either Jim or Larry could have pulled the two dogs apart, especially since the shepherd growled and snapped at them whenever they tried to get near the pair.
"Do you think she was serious about giving us each a free puppy?"
"She sure won't be able to sell them, so yes; I think she will give you a puppy." Jim shook his head, chuckling. "Jimmy would love a puppy, but Jean would make me sleep in the doghouse if I brought home another dog. She finally got Queenie to stop throwing up Brussel Sprouts."
"Why would your wife feed the dog Brussel Sprouts? I didn't think dog's liked them." Larry had yet to meet Jean so the question wasn't as stupid as it sounded, but still…
"She doesn't. Someone taught Jimmy to slip his veggies under the table to the dog." While Jean had accused him of teaching his son that trick, Jim was entirely innocent on that count.
"You make it sound like you know who taught your son to do that."
"I do. It's the same person who taught him to blow raspberries, spit, steal cookies from the back of the package and told him that Ovaltine is yucky. All things my wife has accused me of doing." Jim smiled at the memory of Jimmy and Pete sneaking a snack of Oreos and Bosco together.
"Why don't you just tell your wife who is doing it so she'll blame them instead of you? I would." Spoken like a true bachelor; admitting to knowing all along who did it and covering it up is just as bad as doing it himself.
"It's worth keeping the secret. I owe them a debt…debts that I can never hope to repay."
"Malloy?" It was the logical jump for Larry to make, but Jim would never let Larry know about Pete's mischievous side or the fact that he had, inadvertently, taught Jimmy the "s" word.
"Let's head for the barn."
At the next intersection, Jim turned west, intending to go back to the station. Five minutes more and they would be done, but fate was having none of it. Up ahead, a late model tan coupe swerved into oncoming traffic, narrowly missing a head-on collision, before moving back into its own lane.
"Run it for a want." Reed turned on the reds and leaned on the gas pedal. It took a few honks on the horn, but the car eventually pulled to the curb. There were two people visible in the car, a man and a woman. Jim waited for the dispatcher to report back before he and Kasak left the unit. The car was clean, registered to a West Los Angeles man.
"Take the right side. Don't let your guard down because that's a woman in the passenger seat. Keep an eye out for any movement. Got it Junior?" The events of this shift were weighing on Jim; a hint of exasperation in his voice. This kid was going to learn to stay alive if Jim had to beat it into his head.
"Yes Sir." The rookie gave Jim a look at the term "junior", but decided against saying anything. On the other hand, his training officer thought it felt right. Both Mac and Pete had warned Jim to hold onto the distance between instructor and student, until Larry was broken in enough to listen. Being called "Junior" had worked on Jim when Pete used it.
"Repeat it back to me Junior." Jim leaned heavily on the dismissive nickname. While he doubted that the woman had a gun in her possession, Jim was not about to take the chance that Larry wouldn't' pay attention.
"Take the right side. Don't let my guard down because that's a woman in the passenger seat. Keep an eye out for any movement." Kasak didn't say anything, but Reed thought he saw some resentment in the rookie's eyes.
Before they made it to the car's doors both occupants starting yelling, accusing the other of assault. The man and woman were competing to see who could get the officers' attention first.
"He hit me!" The woman in the passenger seat was a tall bleached blond in her mid-fifties. The man, obviously her husband, was a diminutive balding man of approximately the same age.
"She poured hot coffee in my lap!" The man attempted to open the driver's side door, but Jim held it closed for the moment.
"He hit me first!" His wife, after getting a good look at Larry, leaned over her husband to appeal to someone who looked old enough to actually be a cop.
"She deserved it."
"Enough! Both of you get out of the car now. Mrs….?" Jim paused long enough to find out that the woman's name was Lilian Balint.
"…Balint, please get out on your side and follow Officer Kasak's orders. Mr. Balint, please exit the car on this side."
Between the swelling on the woman's cheek and the man's soaking wet lap, there was evidence enough to bring them both in when they insisted on pressing charges against each other. The man was searched and handcuffed; his wife merely handcuffed. Larry read them their rights and put them in the back seat.
"Put us out to Central Receiving and request a police woman to search Mrs. Balint. Then get in the back with them."
They wasted an over an hour waiting while the couple was treated for their injuries. Mrs. Balint had a black eye and cracked cheekbone. Mr. Balint was treated for first and second degree burns on his lap. Strong assault cases stemming from an argument over a broken alarm clock and the resulting missed breakfast.
The men of Adam=12 were more than happy to turn the couple over to Sgt. Miller and let him sort it out. Jim paused long enough to call Jean and tell her that he would be late. Together, he and Larry filled out the paperwork.
O~O~O
Every time Pete started to doze off, someone interrupted him. First the nurses insisted on taking his blood pressure and temperature. Next came breakfast, which he ignored because he and Beth Meyers had gone down to the cafeteria after Gary was taken to surgery. Then it was time for his antibiotic followed by his pain medication. Why couldn't they have given him both at the same time? Pete almost refused the morphine, but the night's events left him hurting.
As the pain disappeared, Pete finally fell into a deep sleep. Then Mrs. O'Brian arrived.
"Pete Malloy! Do you know what is going on at your apartment?" Her voice was higher than usual, rising to the level of fingernails on a chalkboard whenever she had her dander up. She was dressed in her usual flowered dress and small hat. Despite Pete's assertions that it would be safer to hold her purse under her arm, it still dangled from one hand.
"Um...what?" Pete shook his head in an attempt to clear it. "Mrs. O'Brian, I was sleeping."
"It's morning. You shouldn't be sleeping. Now, answer my question." While she spoke, Pete reached over to the breakfast tray, grabbing the cold cup of coffee and took a large gulp. It wasn't the worst coffee he had ever had, but that wasn't saying much.
"Would you repeat it please? I don't hear so well in my sleep." He took another swig of coffee; wondering what were the chances that he could get Mrs. O'Brian to stop questioning him long enough to go to the cafeteria and bring him back a hot cup of coffee.
"Do you have any idea what they are doing to your apartment?" The older woman stood next to the bed, hands on her hips and giving him a look that reminded him way too much of his third grade teacher, Sister Perpetua. All Mrs. O'Brian needed was a ruler and a habit.
"Do you mean what are Sally and her brothers doing at my apartment? Isn't it obvious?" Pete knew that Sally was spending part of her day off moving some stuff into his apartment. She had sublet her apartment in order to move in and take care of him. Besides her belongings, the only furniture she was bringing was a bedroom set. "She's moving in."
"She is not!" The older woman actually huffed at him. "I won't allow it."
"What you mean you won't allow it? I don't remember anything in my lease that says I have to live alone or that you have to approve whoever moves in with me." Initially, Pete had shared the apartment with a friend from the army, but by the time he moved out, Pete could afford the rent on his own. "What about Steve?"
"Steve doesn't count. He was a man." It was the response that Pete expected from her and he was ready for it.
"The last time I was there, that apartment still had two bedrooms. You haven't stolen one of them, have you?" He let out a small chuckle as his landlady was temporarily stopped.
"It's indecent, that's what it is. Just the two of you alone in your apartment; those dark curtains hiding what's going on inside." There were times when Mrs. O'Brian sounded way too much like his mother.
"Are you saying that you have been trying to see through my curtains? Shame on you, Mrs. O'Brian." Sergeants Sanchez and MacDonald couldn't understand how Pete put up with having Mrs. O'Brian for a landlady. His response was to stay on her good side; the other half was to not let her get away with most things.
"I have not!" The old woman gave him an indignant snort before muttering, "It's near impossible to see anything, anyway."
"Sally is moving in to take care of me. What is indecent about that?" This is one of the times Pete was glad that he hadn't moved into that one bedroom apartment she had tried to get him to switch to after Steve moved out. Whether Sally used the spare bedroom or not was none of Mrs. O'Brian's business. The fact was that the woman who sublet Sally's apartment wanted to use her own bedroom set.
"That last girlfriend you had, she didn't move in, but this…this…" She paused long enough for Pete to know that whatever word she was searching for wouldn't be praising Sally.
"The word you are looking for is nurse. However, I'll give you an even better word to describe Sally; fiancé."
Pete laughed when Mrs. O'Brian's eyes flew open, her jaw dropped and she plopped down into a nearby chair. In all the time he's known Mrs. O'Brian, he had never seen her this shocked, until today. Pete knew when to press his advantage.
"Sally and I are getting married and if you behave yourself, we might invite you to the wedding."
A/N: Hi Folks,
As always, I appreciate you reading and reviewing my stories. It's what keeps me going. I am asking for your opinions. This story is open-ended. I can wrap it up with Pete going home and leave it as Jim continuing to train Larry. My question is this: Do I end this now and perhaps start another story entirely?
~J~
