Disclaimer: I don't own the song lyrics quoted in this chapter.
CHAPTER FOUR
At nine thirty the next morning, Benjamin Fleming knocked on the bathroom door. "Mom!" he called over the sound of running water. "Phone!"
Sharona turned the faucet off and emerged, toothbrush in hand.
"It's Mr. Monk," the boy informed her, passing her the phone.
"Thanks."
With a nod of his head, Benjy retreated into the kitchen.
"Hey, Adrian. So, what did you-"
The man on the other end of the line did not let her finish. "What time do you want to meet at the park?"
"I don't know. Eleven thirty? Twelve? I-" The blonde stopped abruptly, narrowing her eyes. "Wait a minute. Are you telling me what I think you're telling me?"
"What do you think I'm telling you?" Monk asked, his soft chuckle filtering through the receiver.
"That you actually want to do this picnic thing."
"Yeah, that-that's what I'm telling you."
A brief moment of silence succeeded his reply.
"Um, Sharona? Are you there?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Just, um, just needed a little time for it to sink in."
Another chortle. "Let's make it twelve, okay? I'll meet you in the park, by the tree."
"Which tree, Adrian? The park is full of 'em."
"Oh. Right."
"Listen, why don't I just pick you up?" the nurse suggested. "I'll get everything ready, and then Benjy and I will swing by your place and get you. Okay?"
"Okay. So, um, what should I bring?"
"Well, why don't you take care of the tablecloth and the plates and stuff? I'll take care of all the edibles. I'll make sandwiches, potato salad, fruit salad - cliché picnic stuff. How's that sound?"
"That's fine. But don't-don't forget: no tomatoes in the sandwiches. I'm-"
"Allergic," Sharona completed the sentence. "I know. See you at twelve, all right? Be ready."
"I will. I'm . . . I'm looking forward to it," the detective added quietly, then quickly hung up before she could respond.
"I- Hello? Adrian? . . . Heh. Guess he didn't want to waste any time getting ready." Replacing the phone in the living room, Sharona returned to the bathroom to resume her teeth-cleaning ritual.
When she finished, the nurse found her son sitting at the kitchen table, engrossed in a comic book. She walked over and stood beside him, gazing down at the soggy contents of his cereal bowl. "How long have you had that cereal, Benjy?" the mother interrogated, eyebrows raised.
"A while . . ." the boy responded, glancing up.
Sharona shot him a Look, although she wasn't really mad. "Well, hurry up and finish it, will ya? You've only got about two more hours." she chaffed, flipping his comic book shut.
"What did Mr. Monk want?" Benjy inquired.
"To come with us."
Benjy's eyes widened. "Mr. Monk wants to go on a picnic?"
"Yep. I was pretty surprised myself." Sharona ruffled the preteen's feathery brown hair. "Now, come on. Eat up!"
Her son looked at the milk-soaked flakes and made a disgusted face. Rolling her eyes, the nurse reached into the basket of fruit across from him and extracted a banana. "Here," she said, placing the yellow object into his hand. "Take this into your room . . . And eat it! Quickly!"
Benjy laughed and got up from the table. "Okay, okay," he muttered as he headed into his bedroom.
After cleaning up his mess, Sharona went to work on the fruit salad. While she removed various items from the fridge, a song popped into her head, and she began to hum.
Soon, without even being aware of it, she was singing - quite loudly, in fact. Sharona was so absorbed in her crooning that she failed to notice when her son returned to the kitchen.
"'Keep smiling, keep shining, knowing you can always count on me, for sure. That's what friends are for . . .'"
"Mom?"
"'In good times and bad times, I'll be on your side forevermore . . .'"
"Mom!" the boy tried again.
"'That's what friends are for . . .'" the blonde continued, bringing the chorus to a close. She was about to begin the third verse when a finger tapped her on the shoulder. "Ooh!" she cried, startled. Putting a hand over her heart, Sharona spun around to see her son grinning in amusement.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah. You just-You just scared me, that's all," she told him, feeling slightly embarrassed. "What do you need, Benjy?"
"I just came to see if you needed help with anything."
"Oh, no, that's okay. I got it all under control. Thanks anyway."
Sharona watched him retreat, then turned back to the picnic food preparations. But instead of picking up the knife and slicing the cantaloupe in front of her, she just stared at the cutting board, lost in thought. Why she had been so engrossed in her singing? And, more importantly, why that particular song, a song about friendship? Did the song have any special meaning to her?
Further deliberation helped her to decide that, yes; it did have special meaning. It reminded Sharona of her friendship with Adrian. This realization brought a smile to the nurse's face.
Hmm. Wonder if Adrian's ever heard that song, she mused.
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"Hey, Benjy? Are you ready?"
"Yeah!" he answered, rejoining her in the kitchen. Having changed out of his pajamas, he was now wearing a T-shirt and shorts, just like his mother. "So, are you excited about the picnic, Mom?"
She nodded, a bright smile on her face. "Yeah, it should be fun."
"Mom, are you okay? Since when have you ever thought of Mr. Monk as fun?"
"You're right. I meant it should be chaotic. So, shall we go?"
"Wait. Don't we need bug spray?"
"Bug spray. Yes." Sharona left the room and a moment later returned with a can of insect repellent. "I doubt Mr. Monk will let me near him with this stuff, but I'll give it a shot."
"Yeah, if you get any on him, he'll probably say his clothes are 'irredeemable'."
"Oh, hey, thanks for reminding me. What would I do without you, kid?"
The boy shrugged. "Beats me," he replied, a smug smile on his face.
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When the two pulled up to Adrian's apartment building, they found the detective standing on the stoop, holding a large canvas bag in his hand.
He was clad in his customary attire - jacket, dress pants, shirt buttoned all the way up. Sharona could not understand how Monk wasn't suffocating; it must have been eighty degrees outside.
"Hi, Adrian," she greeted her friend as she stepped out of the station wagon. "All set?"
No answer. The man didn't even move.
Approaching her boss, the assistant studied him closely. He had much the same look on his face that he had the night before, pallid and worried. "Adrian, are you all right? I mean, if you're having second thoughts about this, I'll understand."
"No, no. I was just, um, just thinking about something," he told her, forcing a smile.
Sharona nodded. She was convinced that something was bothering him, but she didn't press the issue. Instead, she took the bag from him and headed back to her car. "Are you coming, Adrian?"
Mr. Monk hesitated a moment. Then, reaching into his jacket pocket, he removed his sunglasses and slipped them on, adjusting the optics until they were exactly where he wanted them.
You know, as much as I hate to admit it, he looks pretty sexy, Sharona decided, though she would never say such a thing out loud.
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The trio rode in silence for most of the way, until Adrian turned on the radio.
"Oh, my gosh!" Sharona gasped.
Immediately, her boss jerked his hand away. "What? What's wrong?"
"This song! I was just singing it this morning!"
"Sing it now!" urged the boy in the backseat.
"M-Maybe later."
"You sing, Sharona?" the passenger beside her queried, intrigued.
The blonde felt her cheeks reddening. "A-A little," she replied, shutting off the radio.
Benjy leaned forward. "She has a great voice, Mr. Monk."
Eager to hear this great voice that her son spoke of, Adrian turned the music back on. "This is one of my favorite songs. I want to hear you sing it."
"First of all, you're lying; you've never heard this song before. And second, I don't care what you want. I'm not singing." With that, she cut off the radio again.
A split second later, the song came back on. "Ahem. If you don't mind, I was listening to that."
Sharona stifled a giggle. "So, you really like this song, huh?"
"Yeah. It reminds me of . . . us. Of our-Of our friendship," Monk stated quietly.
His assistant's cheeks resumed their cherry-tomato tint, and it was a good ten minutes before she finally responded. "I was thinking the same thing."
