FAMILY
CHAPTER 7
I don't know about all of you, but after that last chapter I am more than ready for a little Mike and Sarah fluff. So here we go with The Date.
Thank you, Spook, for beta'ing and for doing it so quickly—I know you have a busy schedule. And thank you to Flashymom for suggestions and information on jazz music, about which I know very little.
Sarah stood in her garage looking at the two cars, trying to decide which one to take. Until she walked into the garage she had planned on taking the Volvo. But now she wasn't so sure. She ran her hand down the cold, gleaming, black metal fender. From the way that Mike had reacted to Derek's Ferrari the other night, she knew he would appreciate this car.
But was it disloyal to Tony? What would he think about her using his car to impress another man? She looked at the car and could almost see Tony's laughing face as he told her, "Hey, you don't need this car to lure a guy, Beautiful. All you need is that smile." She took a shaky breath and made up her mind.
Mike saw her as soon as he walked in the door of Peter J's. She was sitting at the end of the bar and had placed her purse on the seat next to her. He realized that she was not only saving a seat for him, but she had positioned herself in a way that discouraged anyone else from approaching her while she waited. That thought pleased him immensely.
The bartender was serving her a glass of red wine and she laughed softly at something he said. Sarah was wearing a black, clingy skirt that fell to just above her ankles. Small black buttons ran in a straight line from the waist band to just above her knees, leaving the skirt open and showing off her shapely calves. Her dark teal silk shirt had a V-neckline that revealed just a hint of cleavage. A delicate gold necklace lay against her dark skin.
As he approached, she turned and saw him. His breath caught in his throat at her smile and he hoped he was smiling back. She picked her purse up from the seat and he slid onto it.
"Am I late," he asked, nodding towards the wine.
"No, I was early and thought I would have a wait. But you're early, too."
"I'll have a Scotch, Sammy," he told the bartender. "So we were both early. Is that because we are dreading this date and want to get it over with, or because we can't wait for it to start?"
Sarah giggled. "You tell me why you are early first, and then I'll tell you why I'm early."
"Oh I definitely couldn't wait for the date to start," he said with a smile.
When he smiled at her, Sarah was momentarily speechless and breathless. She had been overwhelmed with how handsome he looked in his dark gray suit and dark blue tie with a light blue and pink plaid design. She finally took a sip of wine and managed to say, "Me too."
Mike reached over and laid his hand on top of her left hand, rubbing her ring finger with his thumb. Again she found herself speechless and worried that he was going to think she was an imbecile by the end of the evening.
"You aren't wearing your ring," Mike said.
She took a breath to clear her head. "Well, like I told you, wearing a wedding ring while on a date just seems like a breach of etiquette."
He chuckled and removed his hand from hers. They talked about the weather and the Yankees' disappointing World Series loss as they finished their drinks, and then Mike asked if she was ready to go.
As they stepped out of the bar Mike said, "My car is parked over here."
"Oh, I thought maybe we could take mine," she said as she took his hand and tugged him in the opposite direction. She stopped in front of her car and looked to see Mike's reaction. She wasn't disappointed as his eyes widened in surprise.
"This is your car? This isn't what you were driving the other night!"
"It's my other car," she smiled.
Mike whistled in appreciation and walked around the black convertible, looking it over.
"Cadillac Series 62…what year? 1960?"
"Yes, it's a 1960. Would you like to drive?"
She dangled the keys and smiled at him. Mike grinned and took the keys as he said, "Oh yeah!" He opened the passenger door for her with a flourish. He ran his hands over the red leather seat before getting in the driver's seat. "I think I just died and went to heaven," he said as the powerful engine roared to life.
Sarah wondered if this was a male thing. The Cadillac was beautiful and she enjoyed driving it, too. But Mike's reaction was very much like Tony's had been every time he drove it. Was it testosterone that caused this kind of reaction to things that were metal, shiny, and had powerful engines?
"This car is incredible! Where did you get it?"
"It belonged to my husband, and before that to his grandfather. Tony's grandfather bought it brand new; the first new car he ever bought, he said. That was eight years before Tony was even born. His grandfather loved this car and cared for it like it was a baby. Tony said that his earliest memories of his grandfather were driving around in this car. From the time he was about twelve, Tony would beg to just be able to wash it for him. On his sixteenth birthday, his grandfather gave it to him. He had the convertible top replaced first because it was pretty well worn. Tony loved it just as much as his grandfather did and treated it just as carefully. The first time we….uh….went on a date, it was in this car."
"Your first date, huh?" Mike chuckled at the way she blushed when she realized that she had revealed more than she intended to. Not wanting to embarrass her (although he found her very appealing when she blushed), he changed the subject. "Do you drive the Cadillac to work?"
"Sometimes. I try to drive it enough to keep everything working. But it is an old car with a lot of miles on it and I don't want to have to put a lot of money into it. Luckily, Tony found a great mechanic years ago. I don't know a lot about cars, and it shows. But I know when I take either of the cars to Lewis, that he will be honest and fair."
The closest parking space Mike could find was two blocks away from the restaurant. It was a small jazz club and it was obvious from the way the waiters and bartender greeted him that he came here often. They were seated at a small table far enough away from the band to be able to enjoy the music and still carry on a conversation. She found that Mike had good reason to like the place; the food was good and music even better.
Throughout dinner they discussed jazz, arguing the merits of lyrics versus scat versus free-form. Sarah launched a spirited defense of lyrics, while Mike maintained the purity of scat. They talked about the greats like Ella Fitzgerald and Scatman Crothers. Both agreed that no one could compare with Louis Armstrong.
"Oh I love 'What a Wonderful World!' I love to dance to it," Sarah exclaimed.
Mike found himself entranced by her. Her expressive face became animated when she talked about something she loved; which he now knew included teaching computer classes, books, and jazz. He found himself wanting to disagree with her just so he could watch her face light up as she tried to sway his opinion.
The band began to play the next song and the vocalist sang the first lines of "What a Wonderful World". Sarah laughed in delight. Standing up and grabbing his hand, she said, "Oh, they must be playing this song because they want to see us dance!"
Mike laughed as he allowed her to pull him to his feet and lead the way onto the small dance floor. He pulled her into his arms and they began to move to the music. He was acutely aware of the feel of her hand in his, the sway of her hips, the proximity of her body to his, the scent of her hair just a breath away from his lips. His hand moved from her waist to the small of her back and pulled her closer. She willingly closed the inches between them and laid her head on his shoulder. As her body came into contact with his, Mike had difficulty holding onto a coherent thought. He brushed her hair with his lips before resting his cheek lightly against the top of her head.
Sarah closed her eyes and leaned her head against his shoulder, enjoying the feel of his jacket against her cheek and the faint scent of his cologne. It had been so long since she danced with a man. Not since long before Tony became ill. She had forgotten what it was like to have her hand held firmly in a larger one, another large hand on her back holding her close, to simply relax and allow someone else to lead.
The song ended and she looked up at him with a smile, intending to thank him for the dance. But her words froze in her throat as her eyes met his intense, unsmiling stare. They stood motionless as she became achingly aware of his body against her. He said nothing, but the expression on his face as he gazed down at her caused a blush to creep over her. She thought for a moment that he was going to lean down and kiss her.
The band moved into the upbeat, faster tempo song, "Promises". Mike smiled at her and drew her into another dance. She laughed as he twirled her and began moving in time to the music again. He led her around the dance floor and ended with a dramatic dip that left her heart racing.
As Mike held her chair for her, he noted that she was flushed and slightly breathless. He sat across from her and ordered a red wine for her and a scotch for himself.
"I haven't danced in so long," Sarah said when she could catch her breath. "That was fun."
"Glad you enjoyed it," he grinned.
Mike was tempted to find another subject they could disagree about so that he could watch her argue with him. But he knew that he shouldn't avoid talking about her husband.
"How, uh, long were you married?" he asked. He noticed that she unconsciously reached to twist the ring that was no longer on her finger.
"Fifteen years," she said.
"Fifteen years?!" He wasn't sure what answer he had been expecting, but this certainly wasn't it. "You don't look old enough to have been married fifteen years."
"I know, it sounds unbelievable even to me," she laughed. "But we knew each other our whole lives. Our parents were friends before we were born and so we grew up together. He was just a couple of months older than me. We were high school sweethearts and when we graduated from high school we got married. Our parents tried to talk us out of it, even refused to pay for the wedding or to help us with college unless we waited. But we couldn't be swayed and they finally gave in. We were married in June and went off to college together in September. Our parents did help us as much as they could, but we were poor college students living in a tiny one-room, second floor walk-up. And we thought it was terribly romantic."
"Children?" he asked.
"One, a little girl. Once we finished college, got jobs, and felt we were self-sufficient, we started trying to have a baby. But it didn't happen. The, uh, problem was with me. We went to fertility experts and tried drugs and surgery, but still no baby. Finally we had to decide whether or not to try in-vitro. We decided to adopt instead. After waiting for what seemed like a lifetime, we flew to China to meet our baby daughter. She was six months old when we brought her home. Six months later, Tony was diagnosed with prostate cancer. Six months after that, he died. That was a year and a half ago." She pulled a picture out of her wallet and showed it to him. "This is Jia Li."
He looked at the pretty little Chinese girl in the picture. Her dark hair was cut short. She was laughing as she held a flower up towards the camera in one chubby hand. "She's beautiful. Jah lee?" he sounded out the name.
"Yes. It means 'good and beautiful'. Her birth mother named her and wrote it on a note before leaving her at the orphanage. We could have given her a new name when we adopted her, but I thought about that mother leaving her baby where the people at the orphanage could find her. I imagined her naming her baby Jia Li in hopes it would be an omen that her life would be good and beautiful. And when I saw her the first time, her name just seemed to fit. She is good and beautiful. So we kept her name." She pulled another picture out and handed it to him. "This was taken the day we brought her home."
This picture showed Sarah standing next to a blond man, who had one arm around her shoulders. Sarah was holding a dark-haired baby wrapped in a pink blanket. They were both looking at the baby and smiling. They looked as though they had just been handed the Crown Jewels.
"You seem so happy," he said as he handed the picture back to her.
"Yes, yes we were." She took both pictures and put them back in her purse.
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "It must be hard." Her hand was lying on the table between them and he covered it with his hand.
"Thank you. It was hard in the beginning."
"And now?"
"Well, I don't know if it gets easier or if you just get used to it. Maybe that's not it, either. Maybe I've just learned to live with it. Jia Li doesn't even really remember him; I think I've just told her about him and shown her his pictures so many times, that she feels like they are real memories of him."
Mike didn't answer. He kept his hand on hers as they listened to the music. He had watched her expression changing as she talked; from smiling about her high school sweetheart, to wonder when she mentioned her daughter, to sadness as she told about her husband's death. The smile returned as she looked at him across the table and listened to the music.
"I didn't mean to spend the evening talking about my husband," she said apologetically. "Not that there have been that many, but that's the first time I've talked about Tony while on a date."
"I don't mind," he told her. "I'd like to hear everything about you."
She pulled her hand away as the waiter brought their desserts. "Well, right now I'd like to hear about you. I know you're a detective and that you work on Staten Island, but you don't live there. Why is that? Don't you like Staten Island?"
"What's not to like," he laughed. "It's not a bad place; it's just not where I want to be. I was a homicide detective in the 27th precinct. A few years ago I was reassigned to Staten Island."
"But it's not where you want to be….so why were you reassigned?"
Mike sighed, "Well, that's a long, ugly story. Short version is that I punched a city councilman, in public and in front of the cameras. So I was reassigned."
"I remember reading about that…that was you?"
"That was me. Not my finest moment."
"Do you regret it?"
Mike considered the question for a moment before answering carefully. "I regret being reassigned, I regret losing a great partner. Do I regret punching the guy? I don't know. He had it coming, but……I really don't know that I regret it."
"OK," she said, "tell me about those plaid ties. You were wearing one the night we met and another one tonight. There must be a story behind them."
Mike laughed and ran his fingers over the blue and pink plaid tie. "That would be the influence of my first partner after I became a detective, Max Greevey. All I owned were two cheap suits and the first day I worked with Max, he looked me over. He told me that he didn't want to be embarrassed to be seen with me, and if I was going to be his partner I had to dress the part; so after work he took me shopping. He bought me one good suit with three shirts and three ties. Three plaid ties. He said every Irish cop should own some good plaid ties. It just became a thing between us after that. Max would get me a plaid tie every year for Christmas. And another partner, Lennie Briscoe, continued the tradition."
"So, do you only wear plaid ties?" she asked.
"No, I wear others," he laughed. "But I have to admit that the plaid ones are my favorites. Mostly because of Max."
"How long were you partners?"
"Three years."
"And then what? Did Max retire?
"No," Mike said slowly. "He was shot and killed."
It was her turn to put her hand over his where it lay on the table.
"Oh Mike, I'm so sorry."
"You were right, you know? You don't ever really get used to it. You just learn to live with it."
He turned his hand so he could hold hers across the table. They sat in comfortable silence, listening to the euphonious music that filled the small club. Mike didn't realize how late it was until the band announced it was about to play the last song. It was a slow instrumental, so Mike got up and extended one hand to Sarah.
"May I have one last dance for the night?"
She smiled and nodded, placing her hand in his. They moved back onto the dance floor and he held her close as they danced, neither of them speaking for the duration of the song. When it ended they went back to the table and Mike held her jacket for her and then paid the bill, leaving a big tip. They were silent on the ride back to Peter J's. Mike parked the car and turned towards her.
"Is it too soon to invite you back to my apartment for a drink?" he asked softly. Her face was in shadows and he couldn't make out her expression.
"Yes, it is too soon," she said. "But it's not too soon for this."
She leaned towards him and pressed her lips to his. He didn't move for a moment as he returned the kiss. Then he reached over and held her face between his hands as he opened his lips and tentatively touched his tongue to her lips. She opened her lips with a sigh as his tongue explored her mouth; she grasped his jacket in one hand. Mike tilted her head back and trailed kisses down her throat and over to the sensitive skin just below her ear. She closed her eyes and drew in a ragged breath at the sensations of his lips on her skin. He covered her mouth with his again and kissed her deeply for so long she thought she might pass out from lack of oxygen. Finally he pulled back and looked into her dazed eyes.
"I don't think I've engaged in heavy petting in the front seat of a car since high school," he said huskily.
She looked back at him for a moment and then asked mischievously, "So I make you feel young again?"
Mike laughed a deep, sonorous laugh that took her breath away again. He lightly kissed her, then released his hold on her and got out of the car. He went around the car and opening her door, he held her hand as she got out. He held onto her hand as he walked her to the driver's side. As she stood between the open door and the car, he put his arms around her waist and held her close as he pulled her into another long kiss. Her arms went around his neck and she responded to his kiss eagerly. He ended the kiss and pulled his head back slightly so he could look into her eyes. Leaning down with his mouth close to her ear, he whispered, "Maybe next time I will invite you back to my apartment."
He released her and turned to walk away, not looking back to see her expression. He smiled to himself with satisfaction as he heard her faint sigh of disappointment.
End chapter 7