Chapter Thirteen

Discourse

As Alex drives out of the hospital parking lot, scenarios of her life without him go through her mind. What if I never took the letter back? What if I insisted on a new partner? And he and I were assigned to this case? What would the outcome have been? Would it have ended in….A car horn is blowing, the light has turned green while she was daydreaming. "Alright you impatient, jerk." She says in her best New York tone of voice.

She finds a spot to park close to her parents' home; a hunger pain causes her to smile. She knocks on their door as she slips the key into the lock, "Mom, Dad…it's me."

Sara Eames emerges from the kitchen, smiling. She opens her arms to welcome her daughter, "I'm sorry Mom, I'm sorry…." Sara holds her tighter caressing her hair, "No, no honey there is nothing to be sorry about. We understand." Dropping her arms, she takes Alex's hand and leads her into the kitchen. "Come help with me with dinner."

"Where's Dad?"

"He just went to the store, for a pound of coffee, he should be home…." They hear the front door close. John Eames enters the kitchen as his wife and daughter are finishing the preparations for dinner. Alex smiles when she sees her father, "Hey Dad, what's up?" she says as she picks out a cherry tomato from the salad that she is preparing, popping it in her mouth.

He sits down next to his daughter, placing his hand on top of hers, "Nothing much, how about you?" He leans over and kisses her cheek.

"I snuck into the hospital this afternoon," she says proudly. "Bobby, well at first he wasn't happy to see me but I stood firm and we had a good talk." She tosses the salad, "Mom should I put the dressing in?"

"No, leave it out; we can put in our own dressing. Your father has been using balsamic vinegar in his salad and I don't like it. I'll stick to ranch." She spoons the potatoes from the baking dish, placing them onto a platter. "John would you take the chicken out of the oven for me, please."

John, Sara and Alex each grab a dish and place it on the table. They fill up their plates in silence.

"Chicken is delicious, Mom."

"Thank you," Sara picks up the platter of roasted potatoes, "More potatoes John."

"Yes please," he takes the platter from her and spoons out a few more pieces. "Alex, you want more?"

"No thanks, Dad."

Sara catches her husbands' eye, gesturing with her head, he nods. "Alex I must praise you on your persistence, this afternoon, concerning Bobby."

"I know that I can be stubborn, not unlike someone we all know and love," she smiles at her father. "But Bobby, wow he's worse."

"How is he feeling?" Sara asks with concern.

"Physically he seems fine and after we confessed what and how we were feeling, and a good cry." She pauses remembering the security she felt wrapped in his arms. "We were able to smile. He blamed himself for what happened to me and I blamed myself for him being hurt. We knew it all along but it took us some time to realize that neither one of us was responsible for what happened. That little piece of….." she swallows. "Anyway he's being discharged tomorrow and when I offered to drive him home he accepted."

"I have a roast in the freezer, why don't you invite Bobby to dinner on Sunday. I think it would be good for him to have a home cooked meal and spend the afternoon with people," she pauses. "Who care about him."

"I will, Mom." She nods her head. "That's a good idea."

"Ready for dessert?"

Alex and her father hold their stomachs and nod yes at the same time. John follows his wife into the kitchen.

"I realized," Alex says as her father places a cheese cake and a pot of coffee on the table. "That I was more concerned about what other people….well cops were saying about what happened." She looks up wanting a reaction from her father. She watches as John and Sara go through the motions of pouring the coffee and slicing into the cake. Alex digs her fork into her piece of cake, "I was trying to convince myself that I didn't care but I did….It seems as if I saved the day." She sets down her fork. "I didn't…no one could possibly know what and how…" She holds her forehead shielding the tears in her eyes.

"Alex, honey..."

"I saw your face Dad, you were thinking about what happened as a cop, not as my father. You…."

John takes his daughters hand, "Alex I think you were the one who was examining what happened as a cop, not the victim that you were. You tried so hard to displace yourself from the events. I wasn't there and would never judge anything about what he did or didn't do. You are my daughter, you were hurt, and of course, I would hold resentment to the person that caused you pain. I'm not talking about Bobby, what he did; well it seems to me was about the only thing he could do and that was to keep quiet and say nothing. For that I must commend him."

John stands reaching for her, she opens her arms, father and daughter embrace. "Hey what about me," Sara says.

Alex turns, wiping her eyes, "Come here Mom."

The Next Morning

Alex arrives at the hospital, her step is lively and she is smiling. Last night went well, she leaned on her parents and they were more than willing to support her. She knew it before but sometimes she can be a little obstinate. She chuckles softly as the elevator takes her to the third floor. She nods hello to a nurse as she walks briskly down the hall. She slows her pace when she notices that door to his room is open, she peeks in. He is sitting in a chair facing the window. Suddenly a feeling of dread overwhelms her.

"Bobby," she says softly. He does not respond, a few more steps into the room. "Bobby." He turns suddenly and she backs away, "Jesus Christ Goren you scared me."

"I'm sorry," he stands, "You're right on time." He picks up his bag and leads the way out of the room.

The smile on his face is a mile wide as he walks out into the cool, crisp sunshine of this Saturday morning. They walk slowly side by side and the expression on his face is of a man who suddenly feels free.

The conversation for most of the ride is light. Alex suddenly remembers her mothers request for him to share dinner with them. "My Mom wants to extend to you an invitation for Sunday dinner." He stays silent, looking out the window. "She is preparing a pot roast," he turns to face her. That got his attention, she smiles.

"Ah, I don't think so, I do appreciate the invitation. Tell your Mom thanks but I'm not up for seeing too many people, your brother and sister and the kids."

Alex turns the car onto his street, smiling as she finds a parking spot in front of his house. "No, just us, you and me and my parents."

He grabs the door handle, "A pot roast, huh?"

She nods as she lightly pats his hand, "Come on, say yes it will do you good."

"Alright, what time?"

"Three o'clock, I'll pick you up."

"I can drive myself, you know. I mean I had a driver's license before you did."

"Bobby, I didn't mean…."

He lets go of the handle, "Alex I'm sorry. I'm just a little tired. Thanks for the invitation and the ride. He opens the car door. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Hey," she calls to him. "Wait."

"What?"

"Do you want me to pick you up?"

"No, I'll drive; depending on how I feel in the morning I might go up and visit my Mom."

"Ok, see you tomorrow, get some rest."

He exits the car, "I'll try…I will, thanks again."

Sunday

Sara and John are gracious hosts and attend to their quest. After the usual talk about his health and such, John invites him to a spot on the couch and an afternoon of football. He has visited this house on many occasions but on this Sunday afternoon, he feels uneasy. He is unusually quiet, in a way dreading the dinner conversation.

"Dinner's ready," Alex calls to the men, Bobby and John are sitting quietly in the other room watching the game. John turns off the set, "Who's winning?" Alex asks directing her question to Bobby.

He pulls out his chair, "Huh?"

Alex sets down the salad bowl on the table, "The football game, who's winning."

"Colts, by a field goal," John answers.

The food is on the table and the four-some fill up their plates. Bobby compliments Sara on a delicious meal.

Alex sets down her utensils and clears her throat. "Alright, somebody say something."

Three sets of eyeballs fixate on her. John says reaching for his water glass, "Go right ahead honey."

Bobby hastily sets down his fork, "No you see that comment was meant for me."

Alex grins at him, "You have to admit that you are awfully quiet. And I must say, it is getting irritating."

"Oh really, why? You don't have the ability to start a conversation."

"Ok I'll start. Why are you so quiet?"

"I'm not in the mood to talk, can you understand that?"

"You, ha….a man who loves the sound of his own voice," Alex looks up at him expecting a smile.

"I know what's really bothering you and I know why you asked me here." Alex sits back in the chair and crosses her arms. She remains silent. "It still bothers you that I didn't act like super cop that afternoon," he gestures with his head in John's direction. "You need to have your father here to tell me to my face."

Alex hits the table with her fist as she stands. "I always said that you have a vivid imagination Bobby."

"Yeah that's right." He stands. "Tell a joke, avoid the situation." He has to lean down to catch her eye. "Admit it," he straightens up crossing his arms.

John is ready to stand and join in the debate; Sara catches his eye, shaking her head. After over forty years of marriage he knows the look, don't interfere.

"Admit it, admit it to yourself Bobby. You're the one who feels that way. My God," she waves her hands at him." Why are you acting like this? Just like a man to….."

"What the hell does that mean? I am a man….oh I see, but not to you."

She realizes his sensitive frame of mind, sitting down she finally understands, "Bobby that's not what I meant at all." She looks up at him.

He tosses the cloth napkin, which he has in his hand, over the dish. "Thanks for the dinner, but I have to go." He turns and walks quickly through the house. They hear the front door close.

"Alexandra Eames I suggest you get up off your butt and go after him," John says sternly.

Alex looks to the faces of her parents, then nods. She opens the door to find him on the sidewalk motionless.

Great, my keys are in my jacket and my jacket is in the house.

She walks up to him; he sees her and turns away. "You know Bobby when you make a dramatic exit like that you should try and remember to grab your jacket."

"That's not funny, Alex," he says refusing to look at her.

"It's not, then why are you smiling?" She turns back toward the house. From the corner of her eye, she can see him follow. She stops before she opens the door. "Never ever would I think that you are less of a man for what you did that afternoon," she turns to face him, reaching for his hand. "I am so very grateful," she places her hand on top of his. "That you are you." He follows her into the house.

She releases his hand and reaches for his jacket, spinning around she hands it to him, "You believe me, don't you?"

He takes the jacket from her, "Yes I do, I should have known better, it's just that some strange thoughts have been jumping through my head." He places the jacket on the hook, "I would like to finish my meal, would that be alright?"

"You think too much." They both smile as she takes his hand leading him to the table.

"John, Sara I'm sorry for my behavior. Would it be alight if I….. "

Sara reaches for his plate, "I'll warm it up for you Bobby, please sit."

"Thank you," he pulls out the chair as Alex's cell phone rings and she excuses herself from the table.

Bobby places his elbows on the table, seemingly nervous he begins rubbing his hands together, as he and John sit alone.

John leans forward, "I can certainly understand your frustration Bobby, being out of control in a desperate situation. But whatever happened to you, you have to remember that you are both alive and I am so grateful to you for that."

Bobby holds out his hand, "Thank you sir." Alex returns to the table as they are shaking hands. She sits down and smiles at the sight. The look on her partners face is of a man who now feels content. The frown that he sported throughout the afternoon is gone. Sara returns with his warm food and they finish their meal, the conversation is light and the desert is scrumptious.

TBC