The BPD cafe thrummed with life at 7:30 in the morning, with beat cops shuffling in and out with cups full of steaming coffee, detectives putting their orders in for breakfast, members of the brass schmoozing with others and each other, hoping for some gossip to serve as the latest rung on their ladder up the chain of command.
Jane sat at a table for two close to the vending machines, alone, appraising the interactions around her with silence and ambivalence. She then considered her hefty breakfast: eggs, bacon, and toast, made just the way she liked it by her mother, exactly what she needed to face the day.
"I don't think Cailin should have been forced to have dinner with us." Speaking of her mother, a woman who looked, sounded, and walked just like her had approached the table with a to-go cup of brew that Jane ordered, but she could hardly believe the words were coming out of Angela.
"Why weren't you this evolved when I was 18? I distinctly remember at least thirty-five events that I did not want to go to and your response was only ever 'suck it up buttercup,'" Jane complained in disbelief.
Angela rolled her eyes. "You weren't all alone with your mother in a brand new big city, Jane. All your friends, your family, everything was here. There's a difference between a bad attitude and sadness."
Jane acquiesced. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Still don't know if you would've had that opinion when I was 18, though."
"Maybe not," said Angela. "Here's your coffee. We ran out of the creamer you like so I left it black."
"Even better. Thanks." Jane reached for the cup greedily, taking a couple of hearty sips, just as pleased with black coffee, which got caffeine into her system the same way creamed coffee did. She set it down, another big bite of eggs shoveled with her fork, when Maura approached them.
The large lunch cooler on her arm looked out of place as Jane perused the lines of her black skirt. It didn't detract from her overall beauty, however, or the way her blue blouse billowed at her front, the way her perfectly styled blonde-brown hair framed her face. Jane felt familiar jolts of desire down each side of her spine. "I'm so sorry about last night," Maura said to the both of them, and it brought Jane back to reality. Maura in the morning, dressed professionally, fashionably, for work, looked just as good as Maura wearing nothing when the sun went down and they… did what they do.
"Why?" Angela asked, "it wasn't your fault."
"Yeah," Jane agreed, suddenly remembering a conversation was being had, "you don't exactly have to do much to put a teenager in a bad mood, Maura."
Maura didn't reply. She busied herself with pulling a towel out of her cooler and holding it up to Angela.
"What is that?" Angela pulled it to her nose and groaned in pleasure at the smell. Jane watched in horror.
"A chilled lavender towel. Put it on your neck," explained Maura. Angela did so, delighted at the sensation, and then walked off to finish her duties behind the counter. Maura held out another one to Jane. "On your neck," she repeated.
"No," Jane said a little too enthusiastically, around a big bite of eggs.
"It's very soothing. It's used for treating amenorrhea, athlete's foot, vaginitis-"
"I'm eating," Jane interrupted. "I don't need to be soothed. Sit down, will ya? It's been too many hours since I got to look at you. Properly."
Maura's skin flushed pink and she pulled the chair out across from Jane, who already opened the strawberry jam packet next to her toast, ready to spread it. Jane hated fruit preserves of most kinds, especially on toast. But Maura quite enjoyed them - guiltily of course, and not very often. But if someone as nice-looking as Jane, with as long and deft fingers as her, wanted to make her jelly toast, far be it from her to refuse. She took the white bread offered to her without complaint and gave Jane a grateful smile. She put the toast on a napkin in front of her as she adjusted the towel on her neck. When Jane busied herself with her breakfast again, Maura spoke. "No sign of his erectile-dysfunction medication."
Jane had momentarily forgotten about the particulars of this case, a man who injected himself with ED drugs because his heart couldn't handle viagra. Gag. "Still eating," she joked, but then turned serious at the implication. He had been given something else. By someone else. In a syringe. "Well he was injected with something. What was it?"
"I'm still testing," said Maura, careful to swallow very intentionally before talking. "I dissected his heart tissue. And whatever drug was injected did cause a heart attack."
"Hmm. So something he was not used to taking somehow got in him, by way of somebody else, and it killed him," Jane posited.
"That's correct," said Maura. "Are you going to eat that last slice of bacon?" she asked sheepishly, already reaching for it.
"Knock yaself out. Uh, shit," Jane replied, and when she glanced up, she saw none other than Hope Martin walking through the doors of headquarters. "Don't panic, but Hope just walked in."
"What?" Maura said in a voice that sounded suspiciously like panic as she shot up from her chair. Jane shot up with her when Hope entered the cafe and came up behind them.
"There you are," the older woman said, and Maura turned to see her.
"Hello, Dr. Martin. Hi." Jane was all banal professionalism again. She grabbed the towel from Maura's neck when Maura looked at her for help. "Have a fabulous day. Call me later." Jane offered none, sensing Hope's desire to speak to Maura alone, and walked off with the towel and her coffee towards the elevators.
"I feel the need to apologize for Cailin," said Hope, grasping at the straps of her purse, black against her black trench coat, clearly nervous in the way that she addressed Maura.
Maura let that fact put her own discomfort at ease. "No, please don't. You know, I was 18 once, and her life has been disrupted, so, it's all right. I, I just feel bad for you," she said.
Hope placed her head down and shook it. "Cailin is actually very ill, which is why I brought her back to Boston."
Maura's features turned grave. "Have a seat." She motioned for Hope to sit at one of the tables close to Jane's. "Ill with what? Can you say?"
Hope nodded. "She contracted a bacterial infection while I was doing relief work in Africa."
"You can't blame yourself."
"She's in desperate need of a kidney transplant," Hope said, to show that it was serious enough for her to blame herself. "And of course I would give her one of my own in a heartbeat, but… we're not a match. And neither is her father. You know, it is so ironic. I've helped so many patients and I cannot help my own child."
Maura, as she listened to their plight, couldn't help the sudden ache to cry. She held it in, thought about mothers and daughters and sisters, and said, "there must be something that I can do."
"No," Hope said resignedly. "There isn't. But I so appreciate the thought. I just wanted you to know in light of last night and because I… I trust you, Maura. I know we've just met, but I feel like I can confide in you."
Maura sickened herself with thoughts of the truth. How suddenly she felt like lying to Hope was awful, but also the only way to keep her glued together, especially given Cailin's grave condition. She smiled at Hope sadly, who patted her wrist.
"Thank you for your ear," Hope said as she got up to make her exit. "You don't know how much of a help it's already been."
Maura knew what she had to do as soon as she saw her biological mother cross the street and get into her car.
Jane bit at her thumbnail as she waited for the elevator ding to signal her arrival to the crime lab. She hadn't seen Maura since the morning. Hope had seemed forlorn when she had walked into the cafe, more forlorn than one should be just because of a cranky teenager. Jane had only hoped that the woman wouldn't burden Maura with whatever the cause of that sorrow was, not two or three days into their very nascent relationship.
So, Jane steeled herself for a number of possible scenarios when she rounded the corner to get a good look at Maura - tears, anger, full-throttle avoidance through hard work. None of the scenarios she had envisioned, however, involved Maura thoughtfully holding a swab that clearly had been used on a water glass from last night's dinner. "Is that from last night and am I about to get sick?" she asked, worrisome.
Maura smiled and shook her head. "I think we're a match."
Jane smirked, her hands coming up from her sides to lean on the workstation playfully. "You're not really my type."
Maura gasped in fake hurt. "Me and Cailin," she replied.
"I think we're having different conversations," Jane said as she scrunched up her face in awkwardness.
"Cailin needs a kidney," Maura elaborated, "I needed a sample of her DNA."
"Y-you can't give her a kidney," Jane sputtered at the revelation, "I'm not done getting to know your kidneys."
Maura stood to meet Jane's eyes, to study them, to get lost in them. "It's my kidney, my love. I can give it to whomever I please."The term of endearment, sounding so effortless and timeless coming from Maura, barely softened the blow of what she intended to do.
"Oh, so you told Hope?" Jane asked pointedly - how Maura planned to donate this kidney, a match, to Cailin when they did not know that she was their daughter and sister, was a mystery.
"I'm going to donate anonymously," Maura said resolutely.
Jane angered on behalf of Maura. It came out as angry at Maura. She grabbed a nearby scalpel and brandished it. "You need any help getting it out, or are you gonna do that by yourself, too? No, Maura. You can't do it. What are you thinking? No."
"Cailin's dying, Jane, and Hope is overwhelmed. The last thing she needs is to relive the worst event of her life - my birth. And death," Maura said.
Jane sighed, moved by Maura's compassion and selflessness. "I guess I just don't get it." She shook her head.
"If I… If I tell her who I am, I'll be a reminder of her tragic past. I'll never be anything else to her," Maura said quietly. Jane smiled at her. "What? You only need one kidney," explained Maura.
"I know," Jane said. "You're incredible."
"You'd do the same for one of your brothers."
"Maybe," Jane hedged, "they'd have to be really, really nice. I'd definitely do it for you, though."
"You would?" asked Maura, voice breaking, knowing the truth but wanting to hear it anyway.
"In a heartbeat," Jane confirmed, leaning closer. "In fact, I'd give you that, too."
"Your heart? But then you'd be dead," Maura pointed out in horror.
"Well, if you needed it, I'd give it. No point in bein' alive if you're dying."
"You can't donate your heart to someone if you're still alive, Jane."
"Would you just let me be good to you? Huh?" asked Jane, wanting a kiss but accepting the fleeting fingertip against her chin given the amount of criminalists in the lab at noon.
"Yes," Maura conceded. "But I'd rather you be good to me in more practical ways."
"What'd you have in mind?"
"Have dinner with me tonight. And stay over. Maybe your brothers can come."
Jane grimaced. "You want my brothers to join our sleepover?"
Maura laughed openly at the thought. "Absolutely not. But they can share a meal with us, can't they? They've avoided my house like the plague since we… announced. I'm not sure I like it."
Jane felt warm at the sentiment. "Alright, then. Rizzoli kids it is. I'll text 'em. We need to come up with a game plan for when Pop eventually comes after us about Ma, anyway," she thought out loud, straightening up to face the outside world again. "Anything I need to bring?"
"A change of clothes. Or several," Maura said seriously.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Anything dinner-related?"
Maura considered it, settling on a diplomatic answer. "Wine? I've got food covered."
Jane smirked. "Hint taken. I will bring the best bottle of wine Trader Joe's has to offer," she promised as she walked towards the double doors of the lab, pushing them out with her back.
"Jane!"
"Kidding!"
Maura settled the files around her, and resolved to send a few more e-mails before the end of her day, before she could go home and be with Jane, Frankie, and Tommy. Her time with her mother, with Hope, had been volatile to say the least - there had been high highs and precipitous lows. Emotions had run high on both sides, and while Maura could account for that in herself, Hope's reactions had remained mysterious until this morning.
Cailin was gravely ill. And she was gravely ill in a way that seemingly only Maura could help. At least, Maura was the only sure option for life that Cailin had. Maura did not have children, she wasn't sure if she wanted them, but watching your child die slowly from a disease she got because of your work, and then being able to do nothing to help her, despite being a doctor, had to be a special kind of agony.
In fact, Maura read the agony on Hope's face easily as she walked down the hall of the crime lab toward her office, escorted by one of the senior criminalists, appearing as if conjured by Maura's very thoughts. "Dr. Martin," Maura greeted when the criminalist had knocked on her open door, "please come in."
Hope couldn't muster a smile, but Maura rose up from her seat to meet her anyway. "I'm sorry to barge in yet again," said Hope, "there really was no one else that I could talk to."
"Well, you can talk to me. Please." Maura motioned Hope to the sofa and joined her there.
"Why is it so much easier to tell a stranger the most intimate details of your life?" lamented Hope.
Maura couldn't answer that; she didn't know. She found it equally difficult to open up to strangers and friends alike, often saying too much to people she barely knew and walling herself off from people she loved and who wanted to love her. "Because a stranger doesn't judge," was the best she could come up with.
"Hmm," Hope seemed to agree. "My daughter. I feel like I barely know her. She's just so angry. And she has the right - I took her to a place that made her sick, and I've made her live my life."
Maura pulled from her musings just before Hope had entered her office. "I don't have children, but I… I think I understand. I can't imagine all the complicated feelings you must be having."
"Well, no one makes you know you've failed the way your child does," Hope responded.
"I think all daughters feel that way about their mothers. We fear that we won't measure up," Maura said. Her mind ran through so many instances of her bids for Constance's affection, for her love, for even her acceptance. So many of those bids had failed, until only very recently.
"But it's a mother's job to protect her child. I've failed twice."
Emotion choked Maura, wound tight around her throat. "You said that you… that your first baby died. I mean, how can that be your fault? And Cailin, she's, she's a teenager, you know? It's her job to push you away. It says that she's strong, because of you."
Hope let a few tears fall. "Maybe," she nodded, touched and encouraged, "Mass General called today. They found a kidney donor for her. It's an anonymous donor, a complete stranger."
Maura smiled as brightly as she could without crying.
"Maura, I'm afraid I've already lost my daughter. Not to this illness, but-"
"No, you haven't. I know you haven't," Maura assured her.
"You have been so very kind," said Hope, "the kindest of strangers."
"It's been no problem," Maura said. Hope stood, and she stood with her. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have dinner plans with Jane and her brothers. Are you going to be alright?"
"Oh yes, I'm going to be fine, I think. I hope that Cailin grows up to be half as accomplished and well adjusted as you, Maura. I hope she's able to find a fulfilling career and someone to love her, just the way you have. And now that she's got a donor, that hope doesn't seem so wild anymore."
Maura smiled and touched her mother's arm. "Oh, I'm not as well adjusted as you might think," she said, trying to sound comforting and not ominous. "Let me shut down my computer and I can walk you out?"
When Maura unlocked her door and stepped in, well past dark, all three Rizzoli siblings hovered around the kitchen island, pizza boxes still closed. She shuffled over to them tiredly, eyeing the pizza with suspicion.
"Hey, thought we were on for six," said Jane, looking at her watch. "That was an hour ago. Everything ok? What happened?"
"Hope came by," Maura said in a daze. She accepted the hug offered to her by Jane, leaving her items at the hall table and taking comfort in the strong arm around her shoulders as she squeezed Jane's midsection tightly.
"Uh oh," Frankie said, pulling from his beer. His hair was still styled and perfect, but he was out of his uniform, now in a t-shirt and jeans. "How was that after last night?"
"How did you know about last night?" Maura asked, smirking at him. "And how did pizza get here? I thought I told Jane I had food taken care of."
"We uh, we wanted pie," Tommy piped up over his glass of water, "but Janie told us about last night. Sorry, Maura. We didn't mean to butt in."
"Don't apologize. It's kind of nice to have people that know me so well. Did you at least get me veggies?" asked Maura, extricating herself from Jane's arms and opening the two boxes on the counter.
"Yup," said Jane. "We each got half a pie to ourselves. What did Hope have to say? You alright?"
"I'm ok. She wanted to tell me that… well, that Mass General called her with an anonymous donor for Cailin."
"Wait, what's wrong with Cailin?" asked Frankie. He got up and started to pull down plates from the cupboard. "Besides the obvious attitude problem."
"She's uh, she's sick, brother. She needs a new kidney," Jane explained, gratefully accepting a dish from him. "And Maura here has… decided to donate one of her own, anonymously."
"Oh hell. Why? She couldn't even be bothered to stay for your dinner party," Frankie scoffed.
"She's my sister, Frankie," Maura said, "I can't just let her die if I know for certain I can help her."
Frankie shrugged. "I guess so," he said as he separated a few slices from the rest and piled them on his plate. "You gonna tell Hope? Seems like that's a big secret to keep on top of a lotta already big secrets."
Maura marveled at the way Jane's and Frankie's brains worked so identically. She glanced between them, shooting Jane a questioning look, as if to ask if they had planned it. Jane was too busy serving herself to see it.
"That's what I said," replied Jane. "I think you gotta tell her, Maura."
Tommy leaned over to see what toppings were left. "I dunno, how bad is it gonna hurt her? Sometimes we keep secrets because we know that it'll be less hurtful for someone than the truth," he said. He sucked the grease off his thumb and dusted a few crumbs from his flannel shirt.
"Oh yeah? What kinda secrets are you keepin', huh?" Jane pressed him, her sculpted brows down and forward as she looked at him. "Besides the fact that you set up Pop with Lydia."
"Ok, can you not fight over dinner?" Maura asked, standing between them. "I'm going to go upstairs and change. Think you can manage some civility until I come back?"
"We're not fightin'," Jane said as she rubbed the back of her neck, and Tommy punched her shoulder playfully.
"Yeah, given that we've actually fist-fought, this is just a regular weeknight, right Janie?" he smiled, the one that usually disarmed all the women he came into contact with.
Maura was not all women, though, and Frankie had that in mind as he stepped in. "I'll keep the peace, Maura. Go change."
"Thank you," said Maura, smiling at him, touching his arm. "At least one of you is a voice of reason." She set her plate down and went up the stairs. She could hear the three of them chattering away, the topic switching to sports as soon as she was out of their sight, and their presence, the loudness it brought to her home, calmed some of the turmoil in her heart. She stretched her neck gingerly when she reached her bedroom, still meticulous from when she had tidied it that morning, and she set about removing her blazer and blue blouse to hang until dry cleaning day. She took a simple black scoop-neck tee from her dresser, right below the drawer where Jane left her firearm and badge, accentuating it with a low-hanging gold necklace just above the dip between her breasts.
Most things she wore she picked for herself, but also now for Jane. She quite enjoyed this part of any new relationship, curating how she looked to please her partner, finding out what they liked her in best. With Jane, the payoff was exponentially greater than before, because she knew her. She knew what Jane liked to see on her, because Jane had always liked looking. But now that Jane was allowed to look, Maura felt allowed to manipulate her wardrobe to the exact specifications that made Jane weak in the knees, rather than get dressed and then hope for the best in order to maintain fair play. Being with Jane gave her permission to actively choose the skinny jeans she painted onto her legs now, knowing how Jane would try valiantly not to look when her brothers were around, knowing that it would make Jane fidgety, impatient, and anxious to fall into bed. Because now, they were allowed to fall into bed.
She slipped on her flats and then looked in the mirror, satisfied that her outfit served twin purposes: comfort and seduction. Jane loved both, so Maura intended to give them to her. And that was the mistake that so many men made with Jane when they attempted to woo her - no comfort, all frills, like Dean had been, or all comfort and no frills, like Casey. Her Jane needed an equal marriage between the two, and needed them tailored to her. Frills like expensive Red Sox tickets, or trips to museums (though she'd never admit to liking them), were a must. Frills like flowers and chocolates were tolerated, but not specific and therefore not needed. And comfort, well, Jane very much liked comfort. Jane liked the comfort of her everyday life, the way a well-worn hoodie fit just perfectly in the fall time, or the way Maura could wear a t-shirt but still smell like a two-hundred dollar bottle of perfume: the perfect blend of both of their everyday lives.
When Maura reached the bottom of the stairs and bounded back into the kitchen, Jane was engaged in the old comfort of discussion with her brothers. And they liked to shout when they discussed. Maura patted herself on the back for giving this comfort to Jane this evening, even if it was also a little bit for her. Well, a lot a bit for her.
"There's no way it makes sense to keep him in when you know you have a lock down guy in the 'pen," Jane argued, seated on the right side of the dining table, her brothers on the left.
"Ok but he's your ace, Janie," Tommy said, hands out to protect himself as he watched Jane get more and more heated. "Don't you want your ace out there to handle things when it's the seventh and the game's on the line?"
"I dunno, Tommy," Frankie wasn't sure whether or not he bought it.
Jane didn't even entertain buying it. "Sure, but when is your ace not your ace anymore? If you look at the numbers, Buck's not your ace the third time through the order. Batting average skyrockets off of him the third time 'round."
"Oh, hey, Maura," Frankie said, waving her over to the seat across from him. "Saved you a spot. Sorry about all the baseball stuff."
"Yeah, with the playoffs goin' on, it's kinda all we talk about," Jane said, smiling with her eyes as much as her mouth as she pulled out Maura's chair.
"Oh it's fine," Maura said to Jane, "I quite like it when you spout statistical theory. Unexpected, but titillating."
Jane, Frankie, and Tommy all blushed darkly. "Ok, geniuses, then solve this riddle. If all of what you said is true, then why did we lose after we took Buccholz out?" asked Tommy, after a generous clear of his throat.
"Because it wasn't the guy they sent out for the hold that blew it! It was the guy they sent out for the save!" Jane, now recovered, shouted over a mouthful of pizza.
"A'right, a'right, Castiglione and Merloni, leave it alone. Point is we lost, and ya can't change that. As the only person at the table who has played semi-professional ball, let me tell you that it's better to just turn the page and prep for game 3," Frankie jumped in, thrusting his chest toward them, arms out on either side. Maura chuckled behind a napkin. "Now eat, will ya? I could choke you both for making me sound like Ma," he finished, behind back in his seat.
"Your diplomacy is much appreciated," said Maura, patting his hand, "how is your mother doing, by the way? I haven't seen her pretty much all day."
Tommy folded a slice of pepperoni in half and took a huge bite. "Janie thinks she's got a boyfriend," he said.
"I do, too," Maura replied, her bite much smaller and cut off with a fork and knife, the utensils having been put out for her, and her heart pumped a little harder, a little faster, when she realized it could have been any one of the siblings that did so. They all cared about her enough to know she quite sacreligiously ate pizza this way, and they accepted it anyway.
"Maura thinks it's Cavanaugh," Jane said, eyes wide and concerned at Frankie.
"Wouldn't surprise me. I've seen 'em makin' googly eyes at each other over the counter almost every day this past week," he conceded. "We can still hope it's not true, though."
"Cavanaugh, your boss Cavanaugh? Awkward." Tommy giggled behind his water and the reverberation of it clattered around the glass.
"Yeah, you're tellin' me. I can't think about it for more than a few seconds," Jane griped.
"How do you think your father's going to take it when he comes back and she's with someone?" asked Maura.
"He better just grin and bear it. With all he's done, he doesn't really have a leg to stand on," Frankie growled into his beer.
"Yeah, after ditching Ma for some random... lady, I wish he would say something," said Jane.
Tommy, ever the outlier, shrugged again. "I mean hopefully he doesn't say anything. But Pop seems happy with Lydia." He made pointed eye contact with Maura.
Jane only missed it because she had thrown her head back in disbelief. "That's because she's a shiny new toy, Tom. Of course he's happy with her."
"No matter what the three of you think about Lydia, or your father, I know you would never do what he did," Maura said seriously. "You would never abandon your family."
"That's supposedly somethin' he taught us," Frankie said quietly. He bunched his napkin and tossed onto his plate, clearly affected by the notion.
"So let's just carry it on, a'right?" said Tommy to his older sister and brother, who had turned taciturn. "So Pop screwed it up. Doesn't mean we have to. You guys coulda gave up on me when I was in prison, but you didn't. I'm not gonna give up on Ma or you guys either. We can be better than him. And when he eventually tries to get us to sway Ma, we just all gotta stay strong and tell him she's already made up her mind."
"You got a lot more goin' for you than people give you credit for, brother," Jane smiled at him, moved.
They talked about family, about baseball, about work, for another two hours. Plates were put into the dishwasher, decaf coffee was brewed and served with some of the leftover lemon cake from the previous night's dinner party, and the four of them migrated to the living room for the remainder of their evening together, until Tommy yawned exaggeratedly and informed them about the early start of his shift. Frankie stood with him, citing Tommy as his designated driver, and soon goodbyes were said amongst them just before the boys exited the side door to Tommy's car.
"I'm glad we did that," Maura said, rolling her head to the side on the back of the couch, admiring the way Jane's long legs looked sitting next to her.
"Me too," Jane responded, leaning over to kiss Maura quickly. "They're not so bad, huh? I gotta shower. I sweated all day today."
"Ok," Maura agreed, but held onto the collar of Jane's button up to kiss her longer, with more intensity. She tasted like coffee and a burst of citrus from the cake they had all eaten. "Go. I'm going to tidy up in here for a bit."
"OK, but you gotta let me," Jane chuckled, and then was released. "I'll be back down when I'm done."
Maura nodded, and away Jane went. She heard the jets of her showerhead burst to life, and dresser drawers slam shut as Jane moved about the room, waiting for the water to warm. Jane navigated Maura's bedroom like it was her own, and it had been that way since after she'd first spent the night. Secretly, this aspect of their friendship enamored Maura, even before they had slept together. It was just like the way the Rizzoli brothers took to her house as if it were their own home, and she felt loved, accepted in light of that fact, when someone knocked on the door.
Thinking Tommy or Frankie had left something behind, she smirked on the way to it, ready to jibe them as soon as she opened it. "What did you- Cailin?"
Her sister, half-sister, stood on the other side of the threshold, tears just about to spill over onto her cheeks. "Hi," she croaked.
"Hi, come in," Maura hesitated, unsure how to handle the emotion wafting from Cailin, but moving aside anyway.
Cailin pushed past her, holding an iPad to her chest, turning on her heels when she reached the middle of the floor. "Do you know what the name 'Cailin' means?"
"No," Maura said honestly. Confusion drew her brow upward and crossed her left arm over her right.
"It means uncertain," Cailin spat. "That's the name that my mother picked for me. 'Maura' means great."
"Yes, I know," Maura replied, approaching her slowly.
"That's the name she picked for you."
Maura's mouth opened in epiphany, but luckily, it was almost imperceptible. "Cailin, please let me explain-"
"Hmm-" interrupted Cailin, "can you explain why you called my mother out of the blue with some bullshit story?" she thrust the iPad toward Maura, an article highlighting her relationship with Paddy Doyle on its screen.
"It's really complicated," Maura tried again, holding her hand out.
"She's trying to bond with me now, since I'm dying," Cailin said sarcastically, "you know, to make up for all those years she wasn't there."
"You're not going to die," Maura assured her, but clearly her sister was on a roll.
"'Don't - don't do what I did, Cailin,' she says. Right. Like I'm gonna have time to fall in love," she said pointing right at Maura's heart, especially bitter at this part of Maura's life, of Hope's life, "or get pregnant, have a baby… hold that baby once before she dies..."
Maura bit the inside of her lower lip to fight tears. Her eyes shined, full of them. "Cailin, I-"
"I went snooping. I found it in the bathroom. I mean, it is my mom, isn't it? And that's, that's your gravestone. Which is weird, because you look ok to me," Cailin shouted as she walked over to the drawing of Hope, scoffing at it.
"Please just let me explain. I didn't mean for any of this to-"
"Do you have any idea what it's like to grow up in the shadow of a dead baby?" Cailin interrupted again, now just inches from Maura's face. In the distance, police sirens wailed, moving closer and closer. The whine grew louder as they talked. "I was never enough!"
"Baby! What the hell are uniforms doin' out front?! Did you call 'em?!" Jane shouted from the staircase, clamoring down the steps in only a sports bra and some hastily thrown on jogging shorts, hair still dry and water droplets on her skin. She stopped short when she saw both Maura and Cailin close to the dining table.
"You are more than enough. She loves you," Maura said, needed to say, before she acknowledged Jane behind her. "I know you think I should have told her, that I should have told both of you, but I...:"
"Yeah, yeah, you should have. Did you know about this?" Cailin looked past Maura's shoulder at Jane, "when you tried to bond with me, make me like you?"
"Yeah, kid," Jane answered quietly and evenly, hands at her sides. "Yeah I did. But it's not my place to air out your family business."
"That's shitty, Jane," Cailin said with war in her eyes, marching toward them.
"I want to help you," Maura darted in front of Cailin, between her and Jane.
"I don't want your kidney. I figured that was you. You don't get a match like that from a stranger."
Maura couldn't help the few tears that escaped. "Cailin, please," she begged, "please don't throw your life away because of what you think of me."
"I don't want any part of you living in me. You're a liar and a manipulator," Cailin whispered virulently.
"Hey," Jane bounded toward Cailin, finger out, arm stretched, no longer harmless, "you don't know that the fuck you're talkin' about-"
"Cailin!" Hope's voice, quivering and anxious, called out as she ran into the house through the unlocked front door, and all three women turned around. She had clearly been crying, quite hard by the looks of the red in her eyes and the tremble in her fingers as she reached out for her youngest daughter. "What is going on?" Two uniformed officers stood at the door. When they caught Jane's gaze, she shook her head for them to stay back.
"You followed me?" Cailin asked, incredulous.
"Well, you took our car!" Hope defended herself, though she needed no defending given Cailin's erratic behavior.
"Hope," Maura said definitively, with resolve when she looked at Jane standing close beside her, "there's something I need to tell you."
"Maura," Jane reached out, having been the advocate for this confession, but now unsure if now was the time or place.
Maura continued anyway. "I'm Paddy Doyle's daughter."
"What…?" Hope said, flummoxed, pulling Cailin into her arms to anchor herself.
"I'm your daughter," Maura said, and Hope fell from flummoxed to broken. "Paddy told you that I died at birth. I am not looking to be your daughter, I - I have a mother and a father. I just wanted you to know-"
"Just stop!" Hope pleaded sharply, openly sobbing now. "I don't know who you are or what you want, but I've had just about as much as I can bear. Cailin, honey, let's just go."
"Listen - I don't know where the hell you two get the nerve, but you need to stop insinuating what you're insinuating before I get good and pissed off," Jane came forward, and there was the shoulder in front of Maura again - bare, cocked forward in a threat. Maura herself couldn't catch the sob that bubbled out of her chest. "So I think you're right - the best thing for you to do would be to get the hell out. Now."
Maura grasped onto Jane's hand tight as she motioned for the two uniforms to see the Martins to their car.
"You need the tissues?" Jane croaked into the crook of Maura's neck when she felt the smaller woman start to shudder again.
Hope and Cailin had left hours ago. Jane had fallen asleep wrapped around Maura from behind shortly after that, body melded to Maura's back, holding her while she slept in fits and starts. She'd been reaching backwards for the tissue box on her nightstand each time Maura woke up. She did it again now, a sliver of skin exposed at her midsection as she stretched her free arm toward the kleenex and brought a couple to Maura.
"Thank you," Maura whispered, blowing her nose and then tossing the used tissue into the already prodigious pile on her own nightstand.
"Mmhmm," Jane grunted when she fell back into place and into a twilight consciousness between sleep and waking. "I dunno what to say."
Maura sighed. "You're doing enough. You're more than enough," she said, rubbing her hand slowly against the skin of Jane's forearm that draped over her side. "It's just… out of all the scenarios I thought of, that wasn't one of them."
"Mmm," Jane hummed, her breathing evening out. She sensed Maura tense in disappointment at her lack of response, registered it against her arms and her torso as she slipped into sleep. "She's in denial," she finally forced herself to whisper, "she's in shock. Imagine, how would you react if a grown woman walked up to you and said, 'how ya doin', I'm your… dead baby'?"
Maura let out a humorless chuckle. "I don't think I said, 'how ya doin','" she teased.
"Yeah, yeah," Jane snarked, burrowing deeper into the base of Maura's skull, inhaling the flowery, feminine scent there. "I'm tired, Maura."
"You talk like that awake. Maybe she wouldn't be so mad at me if you had told her," Maura whined, scooting backwards even though there was already no room between them. "She very much likes you and your accent. You have a way of endearing yourself to people who are related to me."
"Yeah, except Paddy Doyle. Don't beat yourself up, Maura. She woulda reacted like this regardless."
"Believe it or not, he likes you, too. But what about Cailin, her reaction? If she doesn't let me help her, she'll die."
Jane huffed air into Maura's ear. "Babe, you can't force your kidney on her."
Maura sniffed. "I wish I could," she cried. "I don't know. I never, ever meant to cause them any pain. It's just so awful," she said against the crisp of her pillow.
"Well, I tried to warn you. Family sucks, period," whispered Jane. She reached behind her again and handed Maura another kleenex. "Blow," she ordered between four loud kisses near the nape of Maura's neck.
"No," Maura said firmly. She dabbed at her eyes with her finger.
"No?" asked Jane.
"No. I'm all cried out. Ok? I'm done. I'm done," resolved Maura. She adjusted the sheet under their arms and turned over to look up into Jane's sleepy face. "I'm over them. I'm ready to cultivate the family that really matters to me."
"I'm officially lost."
"You, my love. You, your brothers, your mother. Tonight with you and Tommy and Frankie felt so nice. It felt worth something. Worth protecting."
Jane smiled indulgently, her eyes closed and her teeth glistening white in the moonlight. "We are pretty great."
"Yes," Maura agreed simply.
"So your stuff with Hope and Cailin didn't feel worth protecting?" Jane asked, rotating flat onto her back.
Maura winced at the ensuing pop of grinding vertebrae. "No," she answered. "And actually, I'm a little offended." She pressed her finger into Jane's sternum forcefully.
"What'd I do?"
"Not you. That girl rejected my kidney."
Jane's left eyebrow curled up in solidary indignance. "The nerve," she growled.
"I know, right? It's a very nice kidney," Maura said, in a mock severity.
"It sure is," Jane asserted when she smelled the juncture of Maura's neck and jaw. "You should keep it. In your body. Where I'll take care of it."
Maura laughed, finally. "That doesn't make sense."
"Just sayin'," Jane grumbled, satisfied enough in her work to leave Maura for the bliss of REM cycles.
