It was ten minutes to midnight when she heard the key in the lock and the tumblers click. She was half-asleep, the volume of the TV low but still audible as she tried her best to stay awake and watch the late movie. Looking towards the noise, she pushed the blanket away, slipping her feet into her slippers as she stood, pulling the dressing gown tighter as she padded to the door.
It opened slowly. Her father, the fedora low over his forehead, his tie and collar loosened, stepped with obvious weariness over the threshold. Steve was right behind him, his equally tired eyes glued to the back of his partner's downturned head. He saw Jeannie first and tried an encouraging smile.
She reached out for her father, putting a gentle hand on his right arm, and he looked up almost in alarm. He smiled sluggishly with a breathless chuckle. "Hey, I wasn't expecting you to still be up…"
Jeannie briefly turned her worried frown on Steve, who looked back with a furrowed and obviously concerned brow. "I wasn't expecting you to be so late…" She increased the pressure of her hand on her father's arm. "Are you okay?"
With a soft snort, he looked at her sideways as he started to move deeper into the living room, Steve right behind him. "Yeah, I'm okay," he tried to sound confident, failing miserably. "It turned out to be a longer day than I thought, that's all."
She watched him slowly approach the armchair, bending forward to put his right hand on the arm for balance as he turned and dropped heavily onto the recliner. Exhaling loudly in a gasp, unable to hide his discomfort, he laid the back of his head against the seat, the fedora dropping low over his closed eyes.
Steve, hovering nearby, turned to look into her now obviously worried eyes. He smiled grimly. "It was a long but very good day," he said quietly.
Still looking at her father, she glanced at the younger man and asked, "You got him?"
Both men nodded. Steve glanced at his partner and smiled. "Yeah, we got him. He was hiding in an… apartment they'd built in his parents' basement."
She frowned. "An apartment?"
Mike chuckled. "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow…" he said quietly through a yawn, not opening his eyes.
Steve leaned over the armchair. "Are you okay?"
Mike nodded. "Yeah, I'll be fine."
"Okay, good." Steve straightened up then turned for the door. As he passed the young woman, he said over his shoulder, "I'll be by first thing in the morning to –"
"Where are you going?" she stopped him with a hand on his arm and he looked at her with a frown.
"Home," he said simply.
"Now?"
He stared at her blankly for a long silent second then glanced at Mike, who was looking at him from under the lowered hat brim. "Ah… yeah…?"
"No, you're not," she said flatly. "You're still in pain, you can't fool me, and there's no way I'm going to let you go home by yourself in that condition. Besides, your stuff is still up in my bedroom, remember?"
Any notion that he was going to argue evaporated quickly when she dug her nails into his forearm to emphasize her point. Still holding him, she glanced at the sofa, where the blanket and pillow lay haphazardly on the cushions. "I'm fine on the couch for another night or two…"
"I told ya so…" came the quiet singsong voice from the armchair and both younger people looked in that direction. Mike was smiling smugly.
Frowning, Jeannie looked from her father to Steve and back again. "You told him what…?" she asked flatly, her eyes narrowing. It was a look the men knew only too well.
Mike's dancing eyes slid from his daughter to his partner. Jeannie turned her head. Steve cleared his throat and smirked. "He said if you were awake, you wouldn't let me leave."
Her eyes narrowing even more, Jeannie swiveled her head slowly towards her father. If it was possible, his grin got even smuggier. "Oh, he did, did he?" She looked back at Steve and he couldn't tell what was going through her mind. "He's a pretty smart guy, my dad, don't you think…?"
Steve opened his mouth to retort but she cut him off.
"When it comes to other people," she continued, her voice tinged with pride, concern and sarcasm as she looked at Mike again. "But he sometimes has blinders on when it comes to his own limitations." She stared at him expressionlessly, letting her words sink in.
Mike's smile disappeared. He took a deep breath, briefly closing his eyes. "I'm fine, Jeannie –"
"Like hell you are!" she snapped, watching her father's eyes widen and his mouth slam shut. "Look at you… You look like hell. You're so exhausted you can barely stand, and you're obviously still in a lot of pain. You're so… obstinate about making sure everybody else is okay but you don't do the same for yourself… God…!" She looked down, biting her lip, trying not to cry from sheer frustration. It was something she'd had to battle all her adult life and she was really beginning to lose her patience.
Alarmed, Mike looked at his partner, who raised his eyebrows and shrugged helplessly, then back to his daughter. He started to sit up. "Jeannie, I'm okay, sweetheart, I really –"
"Oh, Mike," she raised her head, pinning him again with her anger, "don't lie to me, please… I know you. I know when you're hurting and I know when you're okay… and you're not okay." She paused and took a deep breath. "Don't lie to me, Daddy…" she said quietly, and his heart broke.
His eyes drifted down, away from her accusatory stare, and he bit his lower lip. He knew she was right. After a couple of very long, tense seconds he whispered, "I'm sorry…"
Her posture relaxed slightly but she stayed silent, staring at his downturned head.
Eventually his head came up again. "You're right, I'm not okay… I admit that. And I know I overdid it today. But it was something I had to do, sweetheart, and you know that too… You know that's who I am." He shrugged slightly with a wry, self-deprecating smile. "But I'll make you a promise, right now, that I won't leave this house until I'm healthy enough to go back to work." A warm smile lit his face and he raised his eyebrows. "Does that work for you?"
She stared at him silently for several long tense beats without expression, biting her bottom lip, then a slow smile began to build. Eventually she started to nod. "Yeah…" she said almost breathlessly, "yeah, that works for me…" She crossed to the armchair, leaning forward and putting her hands on the sides of his face, planting a kiss on his lips. She pulled back slightly and stared at him, keeping her hands on his face, her brow furrowing. "But you have to shave that beard off, the sooner the better."
Mike grinned. "Consider it gone," he chuckled. "But in the morning, okay? I don't feel up to it right now."
She kissed him again then straightened and turned to Steve, who had, very adroitly, kept his mouth shut throughout. She smiled at him warmly. "So, you look marginally better than he does," she nodded over her shoulder, "but I think you need a few days off too. Am I right?"
He inhaled deeply, trying not to smile too broadly, and started to shake his head. "Jeannie, I'm fine…" he began slowly and she charged towards him rapidly, raising her right fist like she was going to punch him in the ribs. He flinched, bringing his forearms up quickly to block the blow, the effort making him gasp in pain then grab his chest with his right hand.
She dropped her fist, staring at him with a furrowed brow, a frustrated sigh escaping her pursed lips. "I thought so…" She looked over her shoulder at her father, who was watching everything with wide-eyed intensity and more than a bit of trepidation. "What a pair…" she sighed; there was no mistaking the love mixed with frustration in her voice.
She repositioned herself so that she could see them both easily. "Okay, so these are the ground rules for the next few days. You are both going to bed right now –"
"You'll get no argument from me," Mike mumbled with a chuckle as he started to get up but she turned on him quickly, raising her right forefinger threateningly and pinning him to the recliner with a ferocious glare. Swallowing heavily, he sank back down onto the chair, unable to stifle a pain-filled moan as he did so.
She sighed softly and lowered her hand. "You are both going to bed right now," she repeated evenly, "and will remain in those beds for at least the next 36 hours. You will be allowed visits to the bathroom, of course, and to come down here for meals but the remainder of that time will be spent in bed. You can sleep, you can read, you can write the Great American novel, I don't care – but you will spend that time in bed. No arguments."
She looked from one to the other with raised eyebrows, ready to counter any number of objections, and was mildly surprised to receive only submissive nods, which worried her more than she let on. Their immediate compliance taking most of the wind out of her sails, she smiled gently as she moved closer to her father and held out her hand to help him to his feet.
He squeezed his eyes shut as he stood, the pain in his chest the worst it had been all day. He was too tired to try to mask it anymore, and he swayed slightly as black spots swam before his eyes. In a second, Steve was also at his side and he felt strong hands grab his upper arms. The dizziness passed quickly and he opened his eyes and smiled. "I'm okay…" Both pairs of eyes staring at him were skeptical. He tried a slight chuckle. "Honest… I'm okay… I'm just really tired, that's all…"
Steve stared at him evenly, then nodded. "Then let's go to bed," he finally said, taking a step back to let the older man precede him towards the stairs.
With Jeannie still holding his right hand, Mike slowly climbed the steps to the second floor, Steve following close behind. He bade his goodnights to his partner and Jeannie and disappeared into the bathroom. Mike turned to his daughter in the master bedroom doorway and smiled lovingly. "I can take it from here," he chuckled gently, pulling his hand out of hers and cupping her chin before he leaned forward to kiss her goodnight.
She beamed up at him, then reached up and took the fedora off his head. "I don't think you need to sleep with this on," she giggled and he grinned.
"No, I guess I don't."
As he started to turn away, she grabbed his arm to stop him and he looked back, frowning. She smiled at him with quiet pride. "You really caught him?" she asked simply.
He smiled then nodded almost shyly. "Yeah… yeah, we did. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow, okay?"
She nodded, suddenly unable to speak past the lump in her throat. As he stepped deeper into his room, she reached out and grabbed the doorknob. "Sleep well, Daddy," she said softly and he turned to her and winked as she closed the door.
As she started back down to the first floor, she looked at the hat in her hand and her heart skipped a beat. Tears sprung suddenly to her eyes and she bit her lips to muffle the cry that tried to escape from the back of her throat. She sat on the bottom step and let the waves of emotion flow over her, softly caressing the grey felt hat that had come to mean as much to her as it did to her father.