Chapter Six
1 Month later
Two with One Blow
She's reminded of the fairy tale, the one about the tailor and the giant. Seven with one blow the tailor had said. She lost both of them at once. Two with one blow.
Catherine stands at her kitchen sink, rubbing a soapy sponge over a plate that was clean five minutes ago.
She hadn't been kidding that night, the last time she had them both in front of her, when she'd said they were her two favorite guys, and only now, now that they're both gone, does she realize just how much of each one of them is wrapped up in her. Her friends, sparing partners, flirting buddies, sounding boards. They were her test dummies as she learned to drive her new position as supervisor.
They were hers, and now they're gone. Vanished from her sight in just a breath of time.
Two with one blow.
There was a case, not all that long ago, and it's been on Catherine's mind quiet a bit these long four weeks. A mother losing both her sons, one to murder, the other to prison. She'd thought, as she stood there, listening to the confession backed by the sobs of a devastated mother, she thought then that she understood how the other woman felt. She'd thought of Lindsay in those moments, had taken her feelings for her daughter, doubled them internally, then subtracted each one, and had thought she'd understood. She hadn't. Not until now. Not until her own boys were gone.
She's given up on trying to talk to Warrick, he stopped listening the moment Brass had pushed the off button, so now, she talks to Nicky. She tells him about the cases she's working; how the new hires, (she can't bear to use the word replacement), can't compare to him. She tells him each asinine thing Hodges says, and how well Greg is doing. She tells him how much she misses him.
Realizing the plate in her hands is clean; she drops the sponge into the sink and moves the dish under the clean running water. Her mind slips, picturing Nick as she knows he would be now, the ants having left long ago, mother nature taking over, the dish leaves her grip, weather it slips or she throws it, she'll never know, bouncing off the counter, crashing in to a glass, sending them both to the floor, shattering in a million pieces.
Two with one blow.