We didn't see each other again after the Christmas party at the office. The team didn't get called out on another case, so we all got to spend the rest of Christmas with our families.
Sharon and I talked on the phone a few times. She always sounded excited and happy, all in the holiday spirit, 'Emily this' and 'Ricky that' and 'you wouldn't believe what Rusty said'. Momma Sharon at her very best, fussing over her children and excusing herself because she didn't want to burn the roast, laughing and asking me how my Christmas with Nicole and her family was going.
Well, that was something I could talk to Sharon about and make her laugh. Because every chance she had, my little girl was needling me about 'not-dating-dating' Sharon, making jokes about old people's 'dated dating habits' and me being a hopeless romantic. It's sweet, really, and I am so glad Nicole forgave me for my initial lie. She seemed to be convinced that her old dad was just too clumsy to ask the girl out properly, so she liberally gave out advice.
"Dad, you should ask Sharon on a proper date, you know like tell her it's a date and take her out with candlelight and nice music and the whole do – maybe an opera or a ballet? Bring her flowers and chocolate!"
Her excited curiosity was a little much at times – maybe because what she was suggesting was exactly what I had already planned. But that was between Sharon and myself and really none of my daughter's business.
"I can ask Rusty about her favourite flowers or which chocolates she likes," my girl volunteered making me smile at her cluelessness.
She obviously had forgotten that I was a detective and that I had been spending a lot of time with Sharon. That – and I was hopelessly in love with her. I knew her favourite flowers – lilies, the colour depending on her current mood, but white and purple were always a winner. Her favourite chocolate – a dark one with the tiniest bits of candied orange from Switzerland available only at her favourite French bakery with the unpronouncable name. I also knew her taste in opera - bombastic I'd call it. Not even if I got to hold her hand would I sit through another production of Wagner's Ring of the Nibelung! It wasn't even the whole thing, Sharon said, we'd only seen one out of four. Well, what she said was "Imagine, Andy, there are three more to see!" and then started gushing.
/
Sharon had called me after she read the letter. I remember that I was sitting in my comfy chair, aimlessly looking out the window into the garden decorated with Christmas lights, thinking about what it would be like to leave Major Crimes for another division. My heart ached at the idea of leaving my friends behind – and leaving her. How empty would my life be without her constant presence? My hands shook when I swiped the screen to take her call and my voice sounded hoarse.
"Sharon."
"Andy." At least it wasn't Lieutenant. That was the first thought that crossed my mind.
"I'm … Sharon, I'm so glad to hear your voice."
I could hear her swallow and take a deep breath and for a moment, I almost dropped the phone. What would she say? Would she tell me to pack up my desk and leave Major Crimes? Would this be the last time we ever talked?
"I read your letter, Andy, and I do accept your apology…"
"I … thank you. You have no idea how much it means to me to hear you say that. I'm so sorry I hurt you, Sharon, so sorry..."
"…and I am willing to rebuild our friendship."
Air rushed out of my lungs so quickly, it left me feeling lightheaded and scarcely able to form a coherent sentence.
"Oh Sharon, I … I don't know what to say."
"Then I will talk, Andy, and you will listen – because I want to make sure you understand that rebuilding our friendship comes with certain conditions from my side. Conditions I am not willing to compromise on."
"Okay."
"I have told you things about me, about my marriage to Jack that very few people know about. I have come to trust you - deeply and almost completely. I don't give my trust easily, I don't confide in people much. Yet I have with you. Andy, you knew about Jack's lies and how they hurt me, time and again. I don't want to go into detail, but I think you remember."
Of course I did. How could I forget these harrowing tales of Jack's continued lies and unfaithfulness that had given me sleepless nights after she told me – even though they had happened years ago.
"I have opened myself up to you, and I thought that openness and honesty was mutual. I expected you, I expected us to not fall into similar patterns I had with Jack. Andy, you know me well enough to understand that I am not comparing you and Jack in terms of your addiction, because when it comes to how you dealt with your demons, you are everything that Jack isn't. I admire you for your strength and resolve in staying sober, in reconnecting with your children."
"Sharon."
"No, listen to me, Andy, I am not finished yet. I will not have another relationship, be that a friendship or otherwise, based on lies and deceit. I will not subject myself to that. I can't. Andy, I need to know that I can still trust you, that you won't hide things from me again."
I promised her that and then, edged on by my elated mood because she was still talking to me, I bravely – or maybe foolishly - ploughed on, "So, were we dating?"
The moment the words were out I wished I could take them back. Me and my stupid mouth.
"We are not going to talk about that, Andy," she said sternly and I could just imagine the expression on her face.
"We were friends and I hope we can become friends again. Nicole and Rusty might have interpreted that friendship differently, but we both knew better."
Did we know better? We might have never put a name to all the time we were spending together off-duty, but what exactly had we been doing? I had been adamant, particularly with Provenza, that Sharon and I were just friends, but were we really?
"At no point during the past year was I ever your girlfriend. Hell, even you can't possibly think that!"
"Hell? You're serious, hell?" She was too cute – and then she started laughing. God, how I loved to hear that sound and how much I had missed it.
"Don't push your luck, Andy. Your bad habits are clearly rubbing off on me. I'll be calling suspects dirtbags next."
"Provenza would never let me live that one down!" I said joining in her laughter, relieved that her humour was back and she could joke with me again. Still, I knew she was waiting for an answer from me.
"Sharon, I can't tell you how much I appreciate you giving me a second chance. I promise you I'll be honest from now on. No more assumptions, no more half truths. I want to prove to you that you can trust me again. Damn, I'm so glad you called, Sharon."
"I'm very glad you wrote, Andy. Good night for now." I thought she was going to hang up and was about to wish her good night, when I heard her chuckle.
"And rip up that transfer request, Lieutenant. I'm not ready to let you go."
/
We had rebuilt our friendship over the following weeks and it was more solid now than ever before. Sharon knew about my feelings for her and she seemed comfortable enough with that. She never brought up the issue of dating, and nor did I. Still, we were growing closer and closer with each passing day and we worked together as well as we always had, maybe even better.
There had been a moment in court when Luis Navarro openly threatened Sharon after his acquittal. I had felt anger rise in me and it had only been Provenza's intervention that had allowed me to stay calm. Sharon had glared back at Navarro seemingly un-phased. I have to admit finding that dirtbag burned to death in his own car had been a relief. He wouldn't be able to hurt her anymore.
My temper was tested again during that case when that useless ex-husband of hers showed up. Just thinking of what she told me about him makes me ready to strangle him. I cannot believe we were once buddies, drinking buddies, but buddies still. I remember how Jack would talk about his wife and call her all sorts of names. None of them even remotely apply to the Sharon I know. God, that man makes my blood boil – and yet all it took was one look from Sharon, the tiniest shake of her head and the ghost of a smile - and I relaxed.
Then came Christmas and with it a new level of stupidity and a Santa flashmob. Provenza had tried hard to keep her away from the crime scene and the case - as though that would ever work with Sharon.
Boy, did she look good in her skinny jeans sweeping in to take control! I couldn't not look at her. Believe me, I tried, but I just couldn't stop myself. What an incredible woman!
There was simply nothing about her I didn't admire. The way she talked to her three grown kids and organised the rest of their Christmas shopping. I have always loved watching her mother Rusty with the distance he needs and yet such warmth and then the recognition on her face when she turned around and saw him calling her 'Mom'. Such a difference from her excited squeal when she saw Ricky in the summer - and yet so similar. Well, who could blame me for being completely taken by her?
It was Ricky who had organised the office Christmas party with me, winking when he told me I should do the honours and invite his mother to join. I had been only too happy, making sure to place my present in plain sight in the middle of the Christmas village. Ricky had told me that she used to hide gifts in the village and that if they found them, they were allowed to open them on Christmas Eve already.
Sharon was so surprised when she saw the room full of people, her kids and all the familiar decorations and when I gave her my present and wished her a Merry Christmas, she made the most adorable little sound. I can still hear it if I close my eyes. If we hadn't been surrounded by people – or if she had stayed with me just a fraction of a second longer – I would have kissed her there and then never mind the consequences. Instead, I looked on smiling as she talked to her kids, feeling her hand still on my chest.
Her eyes had lit up when she saw the small ornament inside the box mouthing a thank you to me, but the letter it rested on was the more important part of the present.
Dear Sharon,
this time, I do feel confident in addressing you as 'Dear Sharon' and I'm tempted to write 'My dearest Sharon'.
The time we spent together over the past couple of weeks has been incredibly precious to me. I know just how close I came to loosing you and your friendship forever and I cherish every moment we spend together. Thank you for forgiving me and for giving me a second chance.
My dear Sharon, you asked me for honesty and I intend to keep that promise to you. I told you in my letter how I feel about you, and that hasn't changed during the past weeks. If anything, my feelings for you have grown stronger. I want to be more than just friends, Sharon.
Would you go on a proper date with me on New Year's Eve? There is nobody I would rather greet the New Year with than you – and maybe, just maybe, 2015 can be our year.
I am not going to press you for an answer and if you want to go out as friends, I'd love to ring in the New Year with you.
I don't mind waiting if time is what you need. I am happy to stay friends for the rest of our lives, but if there is a chance … know that I will keep asking you out on dates until you tell me to stop.
Merry Christmas, my dear Sharon.
With all my love,
Andy.