Tuesday morning, Sanchez residence
Christina Sanchez was not too drunk last night during her date. Nevertheless, this morning she barely had time to prepare lunch for Eliza.
"I hope you don't mind PB&J for today," Chris asked Eliza with major regret. Usually she prepared something better.
"Give me lunch money," she answered while she walked into the kitchen with her book bag.
"I'll be damned if you have to eat any of those school lunches, Eliza," she disagreed, as she spread jelly on the last piece of bread for the second sandwich.
"Okay, PB&J it is. Did you have fun last night?" Eliza was an intelligent little girl, and shifted subjects to the reason her mother got gussied up.
Chris ceased wrapping the second sandwich as if she were hit by a time-freezing ray gun. "You're going to be late for school."
"The bus isn't even here. Are you going to go out with Jim again?" Eliza waited for some kind of answer.
"I'd like to. We'll see." Chris answered, mostly to herself. She bagged the sandwiches and handed them over. Chris widely smiled at Eliza, and lightly wrenched her own hands. Chris actually thought this answer through, but hardly expected the question to come from her daughter. The school bus horn honked from outside, alerting both females. Chris scooted her child to the door. "All right, mija, off you go."
"All right, I'm going." Eliza playfully answered.
Chris kissed Eliza and sent her to the bus. She watched her as she skipped toward and hopped in the bus. Every day she was a reminder of Chris' place in the world as a police officer, to protect her and others. As she gathered her own gear to leave, she remembered what day today was.
"Oh shit, the new guy; I hope he doesn't become a scumbag like T.J. did."
Tuesday morning, Boxer residence
A healed Michael Boxer stood inside his home foyer, having already kissed his two children good-bye and sent them to school. He demanded to return to active duty for the first time since rogue officer Jason Gamble shot him. His wife Elise also prepared for her work. The physically commanding, bearded Boxer was content to be in the field again. He had felt useless and distressed from sitting on a hospital bed while his neck mended. He even contemplated quitting. Thankfully his family assured him they would always be there.
"Mike, you going to be okay? " Elise asked as she approached him.
Boxer stared at his lovely, blonde wife adjusting his uniform. "It's going to be great to work with the guys again, baby."
"We already discussed that excitement. You're jumping right back into active duty. You're going to be rusty. I just want you to be sure about this."
Boxer stared at the sunny streets and activity. Children sprinted to school with their book bags. Old ladies watered lawns. His view represented a tremendous city that was denied his protection for weeks. What he needed to do for himself, his family, and his team, was protect and serve. He stared into his wife's eyes and then cradled her hands up to kiss them
"I'm fine, just hoping the new guy doesn't become a scumbag like T.J. did."
He smiled at her, which she returned in favor. They opened the door and he stepped out, back into the real world.
Tuesday morning, Street residence
Jim Street, former Navy Seal and two-time S.W.A.T. officer, showered and shaved this morning for work after a run on the beach with Arnie, his German Shepherd. He was on Cloud Nine after his first date with Chris Sanchez, and hummed an Irish Lullaby his mother sung to him when he was little. He slipped on his work pants when the telephone rang. He fervently searched for the phone in his cluttered apartment. Finally he found the receiver and picked up.
"Hello sweetie," an older woman answered on the line. It was Estelle O'Street, his mother.
"Hi, Mama, I'm getting ready for work. What's up?" Jim asked
"Sorry James, I haven't heard from you in a while. I just called to see how you were doing," she said.
"Oh, I'm fine, things couldn't be better. We've been busy at work; crazy people making our job tougher. You know how it is."
"Yes, I do. I also wanted to ask you if Lara was coming to our Thanksgiving dinner." Estelle sighed.
He winced, having predicted his mother's reaction would not be positive. Thanksgiving was the last thing on his mind and he hardly believed it was a couple of weeks away. Lara was not even an issue anymore, but he never mentioned it to his folks. "Lara and I broke up, Mama."
"How can things be better when you haven't settled down with the right girl?" She groaned. This was nothing new.
"I don't have time to talk about it." Jim rolled his eyes.
"Make time," Estelle demanded.
Jim knew better than to cross his mother. With her Irish temper, she was a force to be reckoned with. This time around, Jim thought he had something to ease her mind. "Okay, actually, I have met someone else. We had our first date last night that even ended with an old-fashioned good night kiss."
"Well that's wonderful, Jimmy! Where did you two meet?" Relief returned to her speech pattern.
"Work. Her name is Chris Sanchez and she's very special." Jim answered and bit his lip.
"Is that right," was Estelle's drawn out answer. "Are you seeing her again?"
"I don't know."
"Why wouldn't you know?"
"Like I said, we work together. Plus, she has a child," Jim listed.
"She's very special, but you just gave me two excuses to not see her again," With her voice once again devoid of ease, Estelle Street purposely sent him on a guilt trip. "You sound a bit confused. Would you care to speak to your father about this?"
"Let Papa sleep, or eat, or whatever. Can we discuss this when I have time? We're breaking in a new guy, today. Hondo won't take tardiness well." He fumbled with both his shirt and phone.
"I love you, James." Estelle chuckled some over the line.
"Love you too, Mama," he noted and hung up. "This new guy better not become a scumbag like T.J. did."
The beginning