Juice was not a person to press his luck - when good things happened, even in small doses, he accepted them. So, he was happy take the slow rebuilding of his family for what it was. Denise took care of him, checked on him, brought Sofia in and made sure they all ate meals together, even if it meant dragging the baby's high chair into the bedroom so the three of them could eat together in the bedroom. She still slept on the futon out in Sofia's nursery, but she spent most of every day around Juice - Denise had even refused to book any new photoshoots until Juice was better so that she could be there with him.
It was a pleasant surprise, however, when Juice woke from an early afternoon nap to find that Denise and Sofia were sitting in a chair by his bed, napping as well. It was, he realized, the first time they had all slept together as a family again, even if it wasn't in quite the same way as it had once been. For the first time, he could hear his baby daughter's gentle breathing... and his wife's gentle snores.
In recent days, Juice had found his strength returning quickly once he'd finished up his course of antibiotics and the skin on his road rash was not quite as raw. Now, he realized, he wanted to do something nice for Denise because she had come back. She had forgiven him. She had done both, even though she was obligated to do neither. Slowly getting up on the opposite side and treading slowly so to avoid waking his wife and daughter, Juice tiptoed - practically hovered - to the kitchen. Today, lunch was on him.
Granted, he only had the energy to make sandwiches - but he knew Denise wasn't picky. It wasn't much, he realized, but it was something, and it had been a long time since he'd felt like he was able to do anything for her.
He was settled in the kitchen, throwing together turkey and avocado sandwiches - because, he reasoned, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches lacked a certain elegance he was going for. The process of trying to throw something together for her brought back thoughts of Stockton, of the night before he'd found out that she was Henry Lin's niece - the nice dinner, the lazer tag, dancing to music coming from the car speakers until a lamppost light. He'd loved her then - even before he'd been thrown into all of this mess with her, he had loved her with all of his heart.
"Juice?"
He looked up in surprise when he heard a voice at the door and saw Brucey's clean-shaven face peering in through the window, waving. "Hey, brotha', let me in!"
Juice set down the knife he was using to cut the sandwiches, rolling his eyes slightly but still wearing a slight grin when he opened the door. "First time you've come by to see me, man, what gives?" he chuckled, extending his hand towards Brucey, pulling him inside and slapping the other hand on his back in one-armed hug.
"You're up and about - that Deedee's car out front?" he asked, nodding over his shoulder before closing the door. Juice couldn't help but chuckle to himself as he nodded, scratching the back of his neck.
"She came back a couple days ago, we're... we're workin' shit out," he affirmed, shuffling back over towards the kitchen so he could finish cutting the crust off the sandwiches. "I mean, it's mostly still me layin' in bed all the time and her makin' me cry like a baby while she changes the bandages on this roadrash," he laughed, gesturing at his side before adding as a joke, "I think inflicting a little pain on me once in a while is helpin' her out a little too."
"Juice, what are you - did you really just go to the kitchen and make me a sandwich?"
Denise emerged from the bedroom, her arrival heralded by the pitter-patter of Sofia's feet across the floor as she toddled ahead, babbling joyously as she hurried over to Juice (as much as her little legs would allow her to hurry, anyway). Denise was grinning as she walked over and gave Juice a swift peck on the cheek before picking up the plate with the sandwich he'd been making.
"Sorry, Brucey," she said before taking a bite of the sandwich. "Dozed off. I guess playing nurse for this guy is a little more tiring than I thought it would be -"
"Whoa, hold up," Juice said, raising his eyebrows in surprise and looking at Brucey. "You came over here looking for her?"
"That's my fault," Denise piped in. "I sent him off on an errand and I didn't tell him where to find me. What'd they say?"
"Talked to the manager, Ma'am. Said that for an ol' lady, they can make room in their schedule."
"Hold on, hold on," Juice said, first crouching over and scooping Sofia up off the ground and then standing back up, holding up his index finger to pause everyone's chatter. "Can I call a time out and get an update here?"
"Oh, I asked him to check if Saturday was open over at Bozo's for Sofia's -"
"First birthday," Juice said, now clapping his hand over his mouth. "That's right, huh, princess? You gonna have a birthday at Bozo's?"
Bozo's was an arcade and playhouse - the smalltown equivalent of Chuck E. Cheese except, as Denise was apt to point out from the times that she had brought Abel there when he was smaller to run off his abundance of energy, with much better pizza.
"I was just checking if it was free on such short notice," Denise shrugged. "But, I mean, I know it might be a little much for you -"
"Nah," Juice said, scoffing casually. "Look at me. I'm strong as a freakin' ox - I'm good. Let's throw our babygirl a par-tay!"
"Aight," Brucey chuckled, holding his finger out towards Sofia, who grabbed it with her tiny fist and chomped down on his fingertip so that he grimaced in pain, but didn't dare yank his finger away from little Princess Ortiz in front of her daddy and mommy. "I'll go let the guy know that we'll take the banquet room on Saturday."
"Baby," Denise said, reaching out and gently tapping the pad of her pointer finger on Sofia's chubby cheek. "Give Uncle Brucey his hand back so he can go set up your birthday party, okay? Okay?" Denise cooed, eliciting a string of babbles from Sofia as she released Brucey's finger.
"Beeebaaa," Sofia babbled. "Beedoobabuuuuu!"
"Alrighty," Brucey chuckled at the little girl's incoherent chitter chatter, while Denise pouted slightly at the fact that as of yet, Sofia still hadn't started saying full words. As Brucey departed, Denise's face still looked slightly concerned as she went to sit on the couch and Juice took Sofia and sat down next to her.
"Do you think it's my fault she's not talking yet?" Denise asked suddenly, her voice quiet as she looked over at Juice. "I mean, all the stuff we've been going through, maybe I haven't been talking to her enough -"
"Hey, hey, c'mon," Juice said, scoffing again and shaking his head. "There's nothin' wrong with our little girl, aight? Nothin'. She's probably just like you - keepin' all the words inside until she comes up with just the right way to say 'em."
"If you say so," Denise sighed, forcing a lopsided grin. In fairness, Sofia listened extremely well. She knew what the word 'stop' meant, she knew that 'no' in a quiet voice meant 'yes' if she giggled, but 'no' in a loud voice meant 'no' no matter what. But Juice saw the fearin Denise's eyes that she was falling short as a mother, and a part of him still felt a pang of guilt at the fact that it might have been, in part, because he and the club had sapped so much of the life out of her lately.
"I'm gonna make sure that she had the best first birthday ever, aight?" Juice said, leaning over and planting a kiss gently on Denise's temple. "And I ain't lettin' nothin' get in the way of that. No club business, no nothin'."
"My hero," Denise chuckled, slowly scooting over and leaning her head on Juice's shoulder with a calm sigh. That, Juice realized was the most calming thing he'd heard in a long time, because when Denise was calm, it meant she felt safe. It meant things were getting better.
So, Juice went about the rest of the day and fell asleep that night with a contented grin as well, thinking that things were going as well as they possibly could. However, Denise always had a flair for oneupmanship. Juice stirred slightly in the middle of the night, shifting in his sleep to turn away from the tiny sliver of light that leaked in through his blinds. When he turned onto his other side, however, he had to blink in disbelief when she saw Denise laying next to him under the covers, sound asleep. A smile tugged at his sleepy features and he reached over to tuck an errant strand of hair away from her face before kissing her forehead gently.
"Welcome home, baby," he muttered sleepily, draping his arm over her before dozing off again.
"I believe I've found what you're looking for, Mister Kwan."
Charles, backing away from the press that the Triads used to produce counterfeit cash, stared at his phone when he heard the simple statement from Althea Jarry. He'd forgotten he had asked her for a favor at all because as far as he knew, she had given the woman an impossible errand. He rolled his eyes, ready for the overeager puppy of a sheriff to tell him some trivial piece of information, that Harvey and Melissa had a parking violation in Stockton, or that they'd been caught getting hot and heavy in a car somewhere. He figured the woman would try whatever she could to stay useful. He couldn't blame her. Usefulness, in their position, was key to survival.
"Sheriff, I really don't have time -"
"You wanted to know about the Mulligans," she said, sounding mildly confused. "Mister Kwan? I thought that you wanted me to gather intelligence on the Mulligans."
"Harvey Mulligan, yes," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "I doubt -"
"Yes, Harvey. Flick's brother?"
Charles paused. Flick was brothers with Harvey? The insecure yuppie boy that used to follow Denise around like a creepy, at times slightly perverted puppy? He cleared his throat, realizing that what had been meant as a wild goose chase to distract Althea Jarry had become potentially useful. "I suspected as much," Charles lied. "If you could keep this between -"
"I've already informed August," she piped in. "He thinks it could be useful."
Unbeknownst to Althea since they were on the phone, some of the color drained from Charles' face as he realized he had perhaps unwittingly found a way to place Denise in peril again, when he just barely managed to convince her to give him a chance to free himself from August's clutches. Whatever he was going to do, however he was going to earn his freedom back, he was going to need to act fast.
A/N's
Eek, where has the time gone! Sorry to all of you for the short chapter and the long wait. I was going back and forth about where to divide chapters, and what scenes I had written to cut and include. In the end, things felt slightly more natural to divide things this way, and the result was a set of much shorter chapters.
This chapter was mostly setup and filler for the next few, which are going to have slightly more meat to them and throw a few more curveballs to make life a little more interesting for everyone. But there will be fluff too, so the drama shouldn't burn you out too terribly!
Anyway, thank you again for your reviews, your support, and for just being the best! I've got a lot going on in real life, so writing this story and reading all of your feedback is a little bit like an escape - a mini vacation, if you will. So, I hope you all liked this humble installation to my story, even if not a whole lot has happened yet, and the next chapter should be up very soon as well! Until then, cheers!