CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Behind her, high heels tap a staccato beat along the hallway. A rhythm that seduces her heart, begs it to thump along at the same pace.
She doesn't need to turn to know it is Maura who approaches. Yet she breaks from the ten minutes she's spent watching through the family room window to grace the doctor with a warm smile.
She shoves her hands in her pockets, leans casually against the wall. Permits herself a moment to appreciate Maura from head to toe. Can't help but grin a little as pale cheeks start to color. Enjoys the twinkle in hazel eyes. Eyes that crinkle and smile in the corners, that try to scold her obvious mental undressing of their owner, but that only manage to flirt back.
"Hey, you," she breathes as the blonde sidles up close.
"Hey, yourself. Nina told me where to find you. Are you doing okay?"
"Me? Yeah. I'm good," she dismisses. Shrinks away a little as Maura's eyes lock on to the bruise that is fast developing beneath her eye.
"That growing hematoma over your zygomatic and maxillary bones would suggest otherwise." The doctor tuts and gives her a look that says she's an idiot and not fooling anyone. "You need an x-ray. Or, at the very least, an ice pack."
Maura's concern is as heart-warming as always, but she brushes it off. Shucks a thumb over her shoulder and turns away towards the window. Watches Kelsey play at the feet of two older women as Maura sighs in irritation and turns to join her. "That's Rebecca's mom, Abigail," she points. Though the tears and Kleenex give away which woman is the grieving grandmother and which is the Family Services worker. "She didn't even know she had a granddaughter until Nina called her."
Maura's eyebrows shoot up. "Wow."
"They'd been estranged for years. Sounds like Charlie played a big part in keeping it that way."
"Isolation," Maura states with a sharp nod. "It's one of the ways an abuser keeps control."
"Mm," she hums as they stand shoulder to shoulder, reflects on all the unknown aspects of Rebecca's relationship with Charlie. "But he'd finally lost that control. Rebecca filed for divorce and sole custody. Abigail said she would have helped if she'd known what was going on. Maybe Rebecca was just too proud to pick up the phone after all that time." She shrugs. "Who knows?"
"And Kelsey? How is she?"
Jane sighs. "She'll be fine." Kids are resilient, she's learned. But losing both parents so young is no small thing, and all she can do is hope for the little girl's future.
"So, what happens now?"
"DCF will do the checks they need to make sure Abigail's home is suitable for her to keep Kelsey. So the kid might be in foster care for a little while. But once that's all done she can go with her grandmother back to Manchester."
"New Hampshire?" Maura brightens, and Jane gives her a nod. "Nice."
"Mm," Jane murmurs as she turns away from the window to face the blonde. "Where politicians go to die and the homicide rate is less than half that of Massachusetts."
Maura turns to her with an eyebrow cocked, a little thrown off. "Well, that's… cheery. Come on," she urges, loops an arm around Jane's elbow and leads them away down the hall. "I saved you some lunch. It's in the fridge downstairs. You probably don't want to eat whatever they have left in the café and we can ice your eye while you eat."
Jane freezes, throws her wrist out to get a look at her watch. "Oh, shoot!" It is hours later than she realized. "I still might prefer café leftovers to food from the dead fridge," she mumbles. "And I promised Ma…"
The words seem to prick at Maura's ears and the doctor stiffens. "You spoke to Angela?"
"Er, yeah," she scowls, wonders why Maura would say it like it's a strange thing. Wonders, more to the point, why her mother hasn't been chasing her all over Boston yet. "She called me yesterday."
"Oh, that is good news!" Maura exclaims with a handclap. "I thought the two of you would never speak again after what happened with your father. Repairing your relationship might take some time, but it'll be worth it in the end."
Pulse racing with shock, she tries to remain calm. Tries to control her breathing and act as if nothing is wrong. Doesn't want to tip Maura off to the fact that she doesn't even know her own life. That other Jane's life.
She hates the fact that this isn't the first revelation she's dealt with either. Hates these subtle and not-so-subtle differences between realities. Hates that she's becoming more adept at hiding her true and natural reaction to things.
Never in her life has she been interested in acting. And if you ask her, she's terrible at it.
Linking Jane's arm as they start walking again, Maura bumps her shoulder, seems to take pleasure in quoting her own words back to her. "I'm glad you weren't too proud to pick up the phone. Maybe we can take a trip to Florida sometime." Maura becomes positively giddy as they stop by the elevator and she pushes the down button. "Ooh, we could do a road trip!"
"Ugh," she groans, exaggerates a funny face with crossed eyes. Immediately imagines the strict itinerary and tourist stop research that would no doubt be required to complete a long journey like that with the perky medical examiner. "Why would we do a road trip to Florida?"
Maura swats her on the bicep. "Not funny. Just because you hate being in the same room as your father, doesn't mean you should never visit your mother. She still needs you, Jane. Even if she doesn't say it. Frank's cancer treatment won't have been easy on either of them."
Wait – What?!
The elevator dings open and Maura enters, but Jane's feet don't move.
"I'll meet you downstairs in a few minutes," she says, eyes on the floor and a deep crease between her eyebrows. Holds her palm to the edge of the elevator door to keep it from closing. When she lifts her eyes, it's clear Maura doesn't quite understand what's going on.
It's not the blonde's fault, but Jane can't explain. And she can't continue this topic of conversation without finding out what the hell is happening.
If she's going to maintain this pretense, it's time she bit the bullet and did a little investigating.
"I won't be long," she says, makes a point of meeting hazel eyes and smiles kindly. Hopes that's enough to steady Maura's spirits as she lets go of the elevator door and steps back. "I just need to make a call."
A low voice comes through the phone the instant it connects.
"I can't talk right now!"
"Frankie!" she blurts as she pauses in her restless pacing of the break room. Lowers the phone to her chest as she breathes, "Oh thank god." Grateful that he hasn't vanished from her life, too.
"Whaddya want, Jane?"
"Is that any way to talk to your – wait - why are you whispering?"
"We're setting up that drug bust I was telling you about. It's going down today."
"Drug bust? Wha -" she scoffs with a chuckle. Runs her mouth without realizing the weight of her words. "Who died and made you a detective?"
"Ha ha, very funny. Like I haven't heard that joke a million times. If it's not you, it's my old patrol buddies. But you know what… this detective is busy working, what's your excuse?"
"Um," she stalls, processes the surprising new information. Her Frankie was still in uniform, had failed his detective exam by one point, but it seems that's not the case here. "I called to check if you've spoken to Ma recently?"
"Not since last week. Why?"
"Just, I -" she pauses, chooses her words carefully so he won't suspect she's fishing or think she's crazy. "I guess I wanted to know how she was doing."
"She's still pissed about the way you spoke to Pop, but she'll live. And I told her again that I'm not taking sides. I love you both."
"I still don't understand what happened…?"
"Things just got out of hand, that's all. It's not the first time let's face it. So, you were a little hot headed that day… she'll get over it. Between you and me, Pop never should have cussed out Maura like he did. Treating her like garbage in her own home instead of like family. You did nothing wrong, Jane. Remember that."
Oh.
She remembers a similar incident way back when Frank was still trying to pick up the pieces of his ruined marriage. After the revelations about Lydia and the IRS. She doesn't remember a fight with Angela though. Knows for a fact that her mother didn't up and leave them all behind.
"Ma hates me?" she mumbles to herself.
"She doesn't hate you Janie, just… where do you think you got your stubborn streak from, huh? She'll come around. Give her some time."
"But it's been… what, several months?" she guesses, needs confirmation that this is as serious as Maura had implied.
"I didn't say it'd be quick. If she still lived next door you might have cleared the air by now."
"And the cancer? Is that -" she cringes, doesn't know what else to say, or how to say it. When her father had fled to Florida, he'd done so with his perfectly healthy tail between his perfectly healthy legs. It makes her wonder… he'd said some pretty awful things first time around, so just how low had he sunk this time?
"Maura said he'd be fine and he will. Ma was fussing over nothing, not that Pop would admit it. He got her back just like he wanted. But, I gotta be honest, Jane… I think she shoulda stayed here like you said. And, I know… I know I didn't back you up at the time, Jane and I'm sorry about that, because you were right."
She frowns hard. "Right about what?"
"About Ma being better off without him."
Angela has been so much better off without him. And knowing it for a fact makes all of this seem so much worse. "She's okay though, right?" she asks, chews on the inside of her cheek, afraid to hear the answer.
"Honestly? She doesn't sound happy."
"Right." It's a fact that's hard to swallow, even though she expected as much. It sends a pain through her heart and her eyes well up with tears.
"And hey, while I have your attention… do me a favor will ya. If you're gonna crash on my couch, at least pick your dirty laundry up off the bathroom floor before you leave! Or I might rethink letting you keep that key and make you move the last of your stuff."
"Oh, um… yeah," she sniffs as the penny drops about Frankie's stuff being all over her apartment. Her old apartment. "Sorry about that."
"Shit. Here comes Martinez. I gotta go! Bye, Jane."
She slumps into a chair beside the small lunch table. Only manages half a response before the call cuts off. "Be safe, Frankie. I lo -"
With a heavy sigh, she lowers the phone. Stares at the screen unblinking until it turns black with sleep. Decides she can't call her mother until she knows how, or even if she can help fix things.
Trudging back up the hallway to the elevator, she realizes as far as pros and cons go, the cons of living in an alternate reality are stacking up faster than she can keep track of them.
Her original life isn't perfect. But it's okay.
Sure, there are things she would like to change, but at least everyone is around. She has them in her life and they're happy. That should be more important than her selfish desires, shouldn't it?
She can't help but think that using that fucking doorway might have been a really bad idea.