David's laughter is beginning to irritate her. They're in her apartment eating Chinese food, working late on one of his bigger projects. She's technically off the clock but he'd asked her to look over some things off the record and had promised to provide a meal and she'd told him to come on over if he wanted.
She has some regrets about that now.
"It's not funny!" she hears herself whine. "It's serious!"
"I know," David wheezes. "That's why it's so funny. It's like a huge deal!"
"It's just a luncheon," Brenda says.
"Really, Chief?" David says. "It's a big fundraiser. It's sixty bucks a ticket - the D.A. goes every year. And the Mayor and the Chief of Police. How have you never gone?"
"I just…" she says. "Sharon made it seem like it would just be a few female officers sitting around."
"I went with Irene one year," David says. "It's all political - bigwigs hobnobbing, showing that they're publicly feminist and supportive."
"Crap," she says. "Sharon goddamn Raydor."
"Your friend," David chuckles.
"She thinks because she's so pretty and smart she can just get away with whatever she wants!" Brenda huffs. "It's not fair."
David snorts.
"What?" she snaps.
"It's just - pot… kettle. Black." He shrugs.
She opens her mouth to fight back but then thinks for a moment and says, "You know Rusty was the one who thought we should be friends since we had so much in common but we're having a hell of a time of it."
"I mean," David says, shrugging. "At first I was all whoa about it but I can see how you'd be good for each other. The Felix to your Oscar, so to speak."
"She's… she's certainly something," Brenda says. "I always get the feeling that she's just puttin' up with me but we keep spending time together, so I'm not really sure." She shrugs, jamming her chopsticks into her lo mein and setting the whole container down.
"Do you like her?" David asks. "Because who cares what she thinks if you don't see the point of it."
"Yes," Brenda says firmly, because she does, in a way, like Sharon. Or rather, she wants desperately for Sharon to like her and that seems like the same thing. Why bother with wanting someone's approval if you don't care about them either way? "She's so good to Rusty, I like that. She's intelligent and beautiful and sits on a much higher moral ground than I do, that's for sure."
"So you want to be her friend or you want to date her?" David asks with a smirk. He changes his voice to a high pitched southern drawl and says, "She's so pretty and smart!" And then he bats his eyes.
"Men just don't get it," she says, shaking her head. "Men just don't get women."
"Maybe women don't get men," he says.
"Either way, that's why we're here working late and not out on a hot date with adoring partners," she says, standing and picking up some of the food to put away.
In the kitchen her mama's voice says, "That nice young man David sure likes you."
And as surprisingly progressive as that is coming from her mother she says, "Not now, mama, and not ever."
"Huh?" David says looking up. "You say something, Chief?"
"Just thinking out loud," she says. "Don't mind me."
"Okay," David says. "So I have one more file that-"
He stops when the doorbell clanks. They both whip their heads to look at the door. Brenda had expected some activity this evening but nothing past David and the nice young woman who increasingly often brings her Chinese food.
"Who on earth…?" Brenda says and goes over opening the door without bothering to look through the peep hole. Fritz used to get so mad when she did that and now she does it without thought, like she's conditioned herself to be spiteful.
Sharon is holding her shoes in one hand, a red wine bottle in the other, and she's crying.
"Oh!" Brenda says. "Oh, oh, oh, honey, no, come in, come in." She allows Brenda to reach out, grasp her bicep firmly and pull her into the apartment, but the moment she sees David, she freezes, clams up so hard that she practically stops breathing and stands still, her eyes wide behind the dark frames of her glasses.
"Oh, sorry," David says, not that he's done anything wrong except he knows he's the odd man out here, he's the one that's going to have to go.
"Bedroom," Brenda says. "Come on, I'll take care of it, let's go."
Sharon doesn't move at first but Brenda just gives her a hard shove and it reboots her and she exhales a shaky breath and sucks in another that sounds like tears. Brenda hurries her into the bedroom, presses her down on to the bed, and then hurries back out, closing the door behind her.
"What's happening?" David asks.
"I don't know, but you need to go," she says. "Pack it up, mister."
David complies, hurriedly putting files back into folders and the folders back into the cardboard box he'd carted up the stairs to the little apartment.
"Is she okay?" David asks.
"Does she look okay?" Brenda demands.
"I didn't know she could cry," he mutters, pushing the lid onto the box.
"David Gabriel I swear to the Lord, I love you like a brother but if you say one more foul word against her ever again, we are gonna have a real problem, you hear me?" Brenda says, her voice low and mean. "Yes or no?"
"Yes, yes, chief, sorry," he says. "I didn't mean-"
"I know what you meant," she says. "I'll see you Monday. Now get."
"Bye," he says and scoots right out the door.
The moment the front door closes, the bedroom one opens and Sharon says, "I should go."
"Like hell," Brenda says.
She's not crying any longer, but her face is still red and the way she's wearing her hair today is unusual; she's parted it down the middle and has it tucked behind her ears and it makes her look youthful, more vulnerable.
"I'll open the wine," Brenda says when Sharon doesn't try to overpower her to get to the front door or anything. Sharon is still holding the wine, though her shoes have been left behind in the bedroom and she still has her purse on her shoulder. Brenda takes the wine slowly like Sharon is a wild animal.
She doesn't put up a fight except to say, "I ruined your evening."
"No you didn't," Brenda says. She roots through the drawer for a moment for the corkscrew before she realizes it's still out on the counter and that she never bothers to ever put it away. She'd be constantly taking it out again.
"I assumed you'd be alone," Sharon says.
"You were right to, I almost always am," Brenda agrees.
"I didn't know you and David Gabriel were so close," Sharon says, though there's a reluctance in her voice. She's fishing for more information but doesn't want to ask. Brenda can read those kind of tells like a book. This is what she's trained in, after all. To see the things people don't say and make them say it.
"We were workin'," Brenda says. "That's all." She pops the cork and looks around. She had one clean wine glass and so that she pours for Sharon and then pours herself a little in a glass cup meant for a lowball. She's not going to make the poor woman drink alone.
"I let a murderer get away today," Sharon says. She times it so strangely, waits for the moment they're both holding onto the glass before she starts talking and when she finishes the sentence, Brenda is still holding on.
She shakes herself out of it and drops her hands.
"You're cryin' because someone slipped through the justice system?" Brenda asks.
"No," she says. "My father passed away today."
Well, that makes more sense. "I'm so sorry," Brenda says.
"He was 97," Sharon says. "Quite ill and I know it's for the best and I got the call this morning, thanked my brother for letting me know, made some arrangements to fly out for the service and went to work."
"And then your case fell apart," Brenda says softly.
Sharon nods, her eyes welling up again.
"Stay here with me," Brenda offers, pointing to the sofa. "We'll ride it out together."
"Okay," Sharon says, her voice shaky at best.
oooo
It's strange when Sharon is gone to Utah for the funeral. Rusty goes too and even though it's not like Brenda sees Sharon everyday, it feels strange knowing they aren't nearby.
"You want me to condo sit?" Brenda had offered and Sharon and rolled her eyes.
"I'll be gone for three days," she'd said. "Even my plants can survive that."
Still, it feels strange when Friday night passes and then Saturday night too and Brenda realizes that not only does she have no plans, but she and Sharon have settled into an accidental routine of seeing each other every single weekend and if not the weekend at least once during the week.
They really have become friends.
"Best friends," her mama's voice sings gaily over her shoulder.
"Oh my god," Brenda says, because her mama is right. Sharon Raydor is her best friend. And she's gone and Brenda misses her and when was the last time they fought more than they laughed? It's Sunday afternoon and Brenda is alone in her apartment in the sweltering July heat, sweating from every single square inch of her body and all she can think about is that she misses her stupid Captain for no good reason at all.
Mad at herself, mad at her weakness, she grabs her phone. She can't bring herself to admit anything to Sharon, but she can text Rusty, and does so, asking in what she hopes is a casual way, when they might be arriving home.
His reply comes quickly, the only upside of how teenagers are always on their phones.
We fly in late tonight to LAX
She asks if they have a ride and he responds that they took a taxi.
Send me your flight number. I'll come get you, Brenda sends.
She waits for a moment, certain they'll turn her down, but his next text is just an airline and numbers so she opens her laptop and types in the information. The flight doesn't even land until after eleven but she doesn't mind. It's worth being a little tired on a Monday morning. She sends to Rusty that she'll see them then.
It's not far to LAX and the traffic is forgiving this late. She gets into her car and rolls all the windows down taking surface streets all the way there. She's still in her denim shorts and a white t-shirt, her hair piled onto her head, the outfit she'd thrown together in the face of oppressive heat and a small a/c wall unit that always gave under pressure. Now the night has cooled but the air that whips around her as she drives is still warm but it feels good. Pleasant, not hot enough to make the backs of her thighs stick to the leather seats of her car. Fritz had insisted on the upgraded interior. Better for resale, he'd said, though she still thinks leather anything is a place this hot is sheer lunacy.
She circles three times and then pulls up to the terminal to wait it out until either she sees them or a cop tries to wave her along. She has a badge but it's not the kind of badge that one whips out at traffic stops and security guards. It doesn't carry the weight of the LAPD behind it. And anyway, it doesn't matter because she sees Rusty first with a bag on his shoulder and then Sharon, rolling a suitcase behind her. She's got her navy trench on, belted tightly around her waist. Must've been colder on the other side.
She puts the car in park and opens the door, bounding up onto the curb in her shorts and her flip flops and she doesn't know why, exactly, she does it, but she flings her arms around Sharon and pulls her in for a hug. Sharon is frozen for a moment before bringing her free arm around Brenda and patting her uncertainly.
"You didn't have to do this," Sharon says.
"I missed you too," Brenda says, rolling her eyes. She hugs Rusty too, it seems impolite not to and then opens the trunk of her car and lets him load Sharon's suitcase and then his bag inside. "Are you guys hungry? You wanna stop somewhere or we could just get you home. Are you tired?"
"Uh," Sharon says.
"I'm starving," Rusty says.
"It's already midnight," Sharon says. "We all have work."
"We'll drive through somewhere on the way," Brenda says. Rusty gets in the backseat and so Sharon shrugs out of her coat and hands it to Rusty who takes it and nestles it beside him before closing the door. She slips in and Brenda is tickled to see she has travel clothes on - an outfit like her mama would've worn once. Sharon's lacks color but it is travel clothing all the same - a skirt, a jacket that's soft but has structure. Clothing built for comfort but can pass as anything - business wear, nice enough for a restaurant, not at all sloppy.
It takes some concentration to get out of the maze that is the airport and then Brenda, back on the road and more comfortable says, "How was it?"
"It was a nice service," Sharon says.
"Sharon has like a hundred brothers and sisters," Rusty says.
"Five," Sharon says and then, as if that deserves an explanation. "Irish Catholic."
"I have three brothers," Brenda offers. "Big families can be fun."
"Two brothers, two sisters," Sharon says.
"And like 86 nieces and nephews," Rusty says.
"Thirteen," Sharon says. "Wait, no, fourteen."
"See even she doesn't know," Rusty says, laughing.
"Candice had a baby a few months ago," Sharon admits. "So fourteen. I sent a gift!"
"I'm sure it was very nice," Brenda says. "What are you hungry for, Rusty?"
"Can we get breakfast?" Rusty asks.
"I don't think we can do drive through but there's that diner that's open 24 hours on Vermont," Brenda says.
"Oh my god, House of Pies?" Rusty says. "I love that place. Yes! Yes! House of Pies, man!"
Brenda giggles and glances over at Sharon who sighs and rolls her eyes and says, "House of Pies."
"House of Pies, it is," Brenda says.
Sharon slips next to Brenda instead of Rusty when they get seated at a booth which makes Brenda feel like she'd done something right after all. Picking them up or giving into Rusty's hunger. He orders eggs and toast and sausage and a stack of pancakes. Brenda orders a slice of pie and Sharon a cup of decaf coffee and nothing else, but when the waitress brings everything, she sets down an extra fork for Sharon.
"Go on," Brenda says, nudging the plate of Boston cream pie toward Sharon. "I don't mind sharing."
Brenda thinks Sharon will turn her down flat but she eats three separate bites and falls asleep in the car on the way home.
oooo
Brenda wakes up on the sofa to the awful, awful noise of her doorbell. Why can't people just knock? She's been sleeping out in the living room where it's cooler - August has arrived with a hateful fury and she decides that she's going to ignore the door and try to doze for just a little longer.
Then there's the key in the door and it swings open to reveal Sharon holding two garment bags with Macy's slipcovers.
"Oh," Sharon says. "You are here. I thought maybe you were out running."
"Too hot," Brenda says. "And I only gave you keys so you could get the mail when I'm in Atlanta!"
"Turns out they work when you're here, too," Sharon says, flashing her a smile. "I brought some dresses for you to try on."
"I have dresses," Brenda says, sitting up and rubbing her face.
"Just look at these, please," Sharon says.
"I haven't even had coffee," Brenda complains.
"I will make some coffee," Sharon says in a patient, motherly voice. "Take these."
Brenda does, tossing them down on the bed and then, feeling wrung out and spiteful, marches into the bathroom and peels off her clothes, turning on the shower. Sharon can wait on her for all Brenda cares and if she doesn't like it, she can go right back home.
She takes a cool shower, starting the water at lukewarm and washes her hair, shaves her legs and under her arms, squirts her honey and vanilla scented body wash into her loofah and makes sure to get every nook and cranny clean before rinsing off and watching the suds slip down the drain.
When she opens the bathroom door, a towel wrapped around her head and her body, Sharon is waiting in the doorway to her bedroom, holding a mug of coffee.
"Feel better?" Sharon asks. Brenda makes sure the towel is secure before reaching out and taking the mug, sipping it and finding it's been prepared exactly to her taste with just a splash of cream and a lot of honey.
"Yes," she admits.
"Okay," Sharon says. "Will you look at these dresses?"
"Did you shop for me, Sharon Raydor?" Brenda demands.
"I'm just… I'd like for today to go well," Sharon admits.
"Oh, honey, it will," Brenda says. "I promise. I have my speech all worked out and I'm gonna be real charmin', you'll see. I won't let you down."
"We've had over a hundred RSVPs," Sharon says. "The Mayor is coming, two police commissioners, the District Attorney, Will Pope-"
"Okay, I get it, I get it," Brenda says, pulling the towel off her head and letting her wet, tangled hair fall. Sharon watches this, her eyebrows furrowing for a moment before she reaches out for the towel. Brenda hands it over and Sharon takes it, walks past Brenda to hang it for her in the bathroom.
"Why does it smell like cake in here?" Sharon calls as Brenda rummages through her underwear drawer.
"My body wash," Brenda says pulling out a matching set of bra and panties in nude. Sharon comes out again and they swap, Brenda going into change and Sharon moving to the bed to untie the knots in the bottom of the plastic garment bags.
Brenda puts on the underwear and brushes her hair, puts some product in it so it doesn't start to dry and become unmanageable and then opens the door again. She figures Sharon's seen her in a swimsuit, this isn't really all that different and she's gonna want Brenda to try the dresses on and anyway, they're all girls here.
Sharon blinks when Brenda comes out and then shakes her head a little and says, "I got twos but I'm worried they might be too big. Jesus Christ, Brenda Leigh, how do you eat so much and look like that?"
Brenda glances down at her body, a little saggier in some places but holding up well. She runs and overworks and under sleeps but she's got generations of good genes behind her. She shrugs.
"Twos are fine, 'specially if they're petites," Brenda says. "My boobs are too big for zeros, usually."
"Yes, that must be a tragedy," Sharon mutters. "So tiny and big breasted and beautiful. How you must weep."
"Oh can it, queen of the mile long legs," Brenda says. "We all got our crosses to bear."
"Okay well this first one was so beautiful I just… I couldn't pass it up, this little Ralph Lauren cocktail dress." Sharon pulls out a black lace sheath dress, sleeveless and knee length and it is beautiful - something Brenda might not have picked out on her own but she knows will look good and black is always a safe choice for the evening, but…
"I mean, it is beautiful but-" Brenda says.
"But not for a luncheon, probably," Sharon says, wistfully. "Which is why I bought this one!"
She pulls out the other dress and it's nearly the same except it has little cap sleeves and is a creamy ivory color, not black. The lace is a little different, not so delicate but still beautiful.
"It'll go with almost any shoe," Sharon says uneasily when Brenda just stares at the dress.
"It's… it's really pretty," Brenda says. "Why are you doin' all this?"
"Because I want you to feel powerful and beautiful and comfortable!" Sharon says. "And then I want you to kick ass!"
Brenda sighs. She's not that nervous about giving a speech. She has to speak publicly a lot more now and while it's not a favorite activity of hers, she can certainly do it. She has a kind of canned speech that she gives about her department and for today she added a little bit to make it more personal - she'll talk about making Major Crimes a successful experience - it can't hurt to stroke Will's ego, even if he doesn't really deserve it. That's politics. She'll mention the CIA, she'll skip completely over Atlanta. She even has a little aside about femininity in the work place. Sharon will like it all, she knows. But she also knows Sharon and she's not going to stop worrying until it's all over.
She takes the dress off the hanger and pulls the zipper down. Steps into it and turns around holding up her hair so Sharon can zip it up. It fits really well, actually, and Sharon makes a little hum, pleased.
"You think the color is all right?" Brenda asks, turning to look in the mirror above her dresser. "Doesn't make me look too pink?"
"You look lovely," Sharon says, meeting Brenda's eye in the reflection. "What are you going to do with your hair?"
"What are you going to do with yours?" Brenda says back. "What are you gonna wear?"
"I have this green thing, maybe half up," Sharon says, her lip curling into an uncertain sneer.
"Well bring it over her and we can get ready and go together," Brenda says. "And bring me the receipt so I can pay you for the dress."
"No, no, no," Sharon says. "It's my way of saying thank you."
Brenda narrows her eyes but doesn't argue. "We'll see," she says.
"I'll come back in an hour or so," Sharon promises.
"I'll feed you a little something before we head over," Brenda says, turning around so Sharon can get her zipper again. She steps out of the dress and puts it back on its hanger, hanging it in the closet so it stays safe.
"Oh good, I never have time to actually eat at these things," Sharon says. "I'll let myself out."
When she comes back, Brenda has already gone to the store and returned and is frying bacon on her stove, jumping every time the grease pops and hits her with scalding splatter. Sharon knocks once and then lets herself in and Brenda finds that weirdly comforting.
"Smells good," Sharon says.
"BLTs, I thought," Brenda says.
"Good, good," Sharon says. She disappears into the bedroom, presumably to hang up her own dress and then comes back. She's dressed down - in jeans and a t-shirt, and it looks like she's done half her make-up and washed her hair. She's got on foundation, at least, her skin looks soft and clear. Brenda smiles at her when she comes back in. "Can I help?"
Brenda has already gotten all the ingredients out and they're sitting on the counter. A ripe tomato, a head of lettuce, an avocado. A jar of light mayo, a loaf of wheat bread.
"You want to assemble?" Brenda asks.
"Sure." Sharon washes her hands and starts cutting thin slices of tomato. When Brenda hands the bacon over, she gets their drinks together - tall glasses with ice and then offers lemonade, diet coke or water.
"Water is fine," Sharon says, so Brenda makes them both a glass from the filtered pitcher, not from the tap. They eat quietly but it's not weird, not uncomfortable.
"Is Rusty coming?" Brenda asks.
Sharon shakes her head, swallows the food in her mouth and then says, "He'd be so bored."
"Yeah," Brenda says.
"Have I said thank you?" Sharon asks. "I mean, thank you for doing this."
"Well you didn't give me much choice! But you're welcome."
"I have been doing this for years and I know it's our biggest event but I just feel extra nervous for some reason."
"Maybe you'll catch a murder," Brenda says jokingly and then realizes that the only thing worse that going to this thing would be going without Sharon. "But you'd better not!"
"Let's just hope for the best," Sharon says.
oooo
The speech goes fine and is actually the most painless part of the evening. The best part is Sharon's introduction of her, the part where she says, "My dear friend, Brenda Leigh Johnson." It makes Brenda's tummy flip, warmth spreading through her cheeks. She feels like she's the belle of the ball. Not only is everyone applauding her, waiting for her to speak, but Sharon had claimed her as someone important. She didn't know she would miss it, after the divorce. The feeling of being important to another human.
Brenda hugs Sharon before she goes on. It's not something they'd talked about or rehearsed but Sharon falls into it naturally and whispers into her ear, "Knock 'em dead!"
After, Brenda is seated at a table with Sharon and Will and one of the police commissioners and the District Attorney, too. All the fancy people shoehorned into one eight foot round. But there's also a table of the guys - Julio and Andy and Detective Sykes, Mike and his wife, even Provenza.
"Did you make them come?" Brenda asks, leaning into Sharon while they're waiting for dessert to be served.
"No," Sharon says primly, reaching for her water goblet. "I told them you were the keynote speaker and Lieutenant Provenza gave me a jar full of cash the next day and said 'Six tickets please'."
"A jar," Brenda guffaws. "I'm gonna go say hey, if they ever come 'round with dessert, get me-"
"Chocolate, I know," Sharon says, waving her off.
She weaves her way over to the table with her old squad and greets them with a smile. She gets a hug from Andy and another from Tao and even Provenza shakes her hand though he's got a gruff expression.
"I thought you we'd get to witness a classic Raydor-Johnson fight, that's why I came!" he says.
She snaps. "Sorry to disappoint you, Lieutenant."
"You hugged her," Julio says like an accusation but she knows he's got a good poker face and isn't scared.
"We're friends," Brenda says glancing over at Sharon who is standing, talking to a woman that Brenda doesn't know. "She didn't mention that?"
"She's not very open about her personal life," says Buzz from across the table.
"Well thank you all for comin', really, it's nice to see you and it's so nice of you to support your fellow female officers," Brenda says.
"Exactly!" Detective Sykes says loudly, so enthusiastically that it makes Brenda jump a little.
Brenda hears her name and she turns to look over her shoulder, sees Sharon holding up a plate of chocolate cake.
"Excuse me," she says. "So good to see you."
She gets back to the table at the same time as Will and he pulls back her seat for her.
"Nice to see you, Brenda," he says as she sits and pulls her own seat forward. "You gave a great talk."
"Thank you, Chief Pope," she says. "How've you been?"
"Good," he says. "Busy."
"How're the kids?" she asks just as Sharon slips into her seat, setting the cake before Brenda.
His face softens. "Good," he says. He turns to Sharon and says, "Lovely as ever, Captain Raydor."
Brenda can't help but scoff a little under her breath and mutter, "Still a captain."
Sharon elbows her under the table and says, "Thank you, Chief."
"You've done more as a Captain than-"
"Eat your cake, Brenda Leigh," Sharon snaps.
"Something to add, Chief Investigator Johnson?" Will says in his booming voice, the one he gets when she's crossing some sort of line. But she doesn't work for him, anymore.
"I just find it somewhat ironic that we're at an LAPD function in support of women officers but the most accomplished officer you have is doing the work of a Deputy Chief but being paid as a Captain," Brenda says, working hard to keep her voice even and cheerful. "In fact, she actually does more than I ever did - heads this committee, for one."
"Brenda!" Sharon says, scandalized. "Chief, please excuse us both for a moment."
"Gladly," Will says darkly. Sharon grasps her arm and pulls and Brenda goes with her as Sharon stomps toward the restrooms.
"Sorry," Brenda squeaks as they go. "I'm sorry, I shouldn've done it, I'm sorry."
But Sharon doesn't stop until they're in the ladies room and then she crosses her arms and turns to Brenda, her face cold with fury.
"I know," Brenda wails.
"You don't!" Sharon says. "If you knew better, you would not have humiliated me in front of the Chief of Police among others!"
"I-"
"I know to you Will Pope doesn't hold a lot of water anymore, but he's still my boss and I have to live with the consequences of you mouthing off and he's going to think I put you up to it!"
"Well it ain't fair!" Brenda says. "There's absolutely no reason for you to still be a Captain, 'specially after he already promised you a promotion to Commander!"
"Life isn't fair, sweetheart!" Sharon snaps. "And while I head Major Crimes and this little committee, as you put it, I also sat on the board that helped pick you to be on the short list for Chief of Police and left him off of it which is not something a man like William Pope is going to forget anytime soon or ever!"
Brenda's hands are balled into fists and she makes herself unclench them. "I… I'm not good at this political stuff!" she complains. "I never could control my mouth!"
Sharon sighs, rubs her forehead for a moment. "I know you mean well."
"I do!"
"I know, but a woman my age has limited choices and I've learned to be happy with what I have."
"A woman of your age?" Brenda squeaks. "Sharon, your age shouldn't mean shit! You're still smarter and healthier and better than half the people out there!"
Sharon smiles at her with sad eyes.
Thank you," she says. "Now can you please just make nice for another forty minutes and then we can go."
"You want me to apologize to Will?" Brenda asks, though saying the words leave a foul taste in her mouth.
"No!" Sharon says. "It's probably best if you don't say anything else to Pope but that man certainly doesn't deserve an apology from you about anything, not after the way he treated you."
Brenda is relieved - Sharon is still on her side. She reaches out and grabs Sharon's hand.
"I'll be good," she says.
Sharon nods. "Just forty minutes and then we can go."
Brenda smiles but says, "Thirty-nine."
oooo
They go out to a bar after, most of Major Crimes and Brenda. Buzz goes home and so do Mike and his wife and it takes some convincing for Sharon but they go to a place nearby and it's a cop bar so they get good service right away.
Andy tells them both that they look beautiful and Brenda knows he means it because he's saying it over a glass of club soda and lime. Brenda drinks wine, of course, but when Provenza comes back from the bar, he has two glasses of ice and some amber colored liquor and he slides one of them to Sharon who is sitting next to Brenda in the long booth, close enough that their sides are pressed warmly together.
"Cheers," Sharon says softly and sips it. "Lieutenant, you spoil me."
"Eh," Provenza says and nothing else. Sharon offers the glass for Brenda to sip but she shakes her head no. Anything Provenza drinks is not going to be to her taste.
They stay for over an hour. Brenda sticks to the one glass but Sharon has a second of whatever she's drinking and Brenda realizes that she's a little toasted when Sharon leans over to say something to Detective Sykes and she uses Brenda's thigh to steady herself. Brenda looks down at the hand in her lap - pale skin, clear polish on the nails, a little thin band of rose gold around her ring finger. The kind of ring that is purely decorative. The hand is mostly on dress but the tips of her fingers are on Brenda's bare leg and when she looks up, she sees that Andy sees it too and looks a little lost.
"Are y'all on call this evenin'?" Brenda asks Julio who is on her other side.
"Only if something is really a Major Crime," Julio says, "Like a celebrity or a big gang shooting. Otherwise the Pope has gotten pretty stingy with overtime."
"Still," she says. "I should probably get her home."
Julio grins, his cheeks round and ruddy from alcohol. "Let her have her fun, Chief. She doesn't do it very often."
"I'll go get her a glass of water," Andy offers and Brenda nods.
"Thanks." Brenda smiles at him and then leans into Sharon, her hand settling on top of Sharon's. Sharon looks at Brenda and then down at their fingers and her eyebrows shoot up.
"Oh!" she says.
"Gettin' a little fresh with me, Raydor?" Brenda teases, squeezing the hand before allowing Sharon to pull it away. Sharon grins at this and when Andy comes back with the water, he has another drink for Sharon, too.
"Lieutenant!" Brenda says.
"Last round," he says. "On me."
"I always liked you, Andy," Sharon says, reaching out for the glass with a smile.
"Promise you'll drink the water, too," Brenda says into her ear.
"Yes, yes," Sharon says. "I promise."
Brenda worries about getting Sharon home, convincing her to leave, but Sharon hits her limit before it becomes a problem. She's laughing at something and then stops, kind of abruptly and says, "Oh. I think I'm ready to go."
"Okay," Brenda says. "Let's go to the ladies room first."
Everyone stands when they do and though Brenda can certainly tell that Sharon is a little drunk, she walks all right to the back of the bar and lets Brenda hold open the bathroom door for her. Brenda waits while Sharon locks herself in the stall.
"You okay?" Brenda calls when the toilet flushes but she doesn't come out.
"Yes," Sharon says. "I just… that last one was probably a mistake."
"You gonna be sick?" Brenda says. She didn't think Sharon was that much of a lightweight.
"No, I just feel untethered, that's all," Sharon says. She opens the door and comes and Brenda looks her over but she seems okay. Her face is a little red but she looks like herself.
"Wash your hands," Brenda says. "We'll put some food in you, okay?"
It's not even that late. Close to dinner time. She'll take Sharon home, ride up with her in the elevator. Deposit her safely to Rusty. They say their goodbyes quickly and when Brenda asks Sharon for her car keys, Sharon just hands over her entire purse. Sharon leans against the back bumper of her car while Brenda stands next to her, the purse sitting on the trunk while she digs through it for keys. Sharon's cell phone, four tubes of lipstick, her glasses case - designer - her wallet, what looks like to be a second wallet, a paperback novel, her badge.
Then, finally, a set of keys.
"You purse weighs twenty pounds," Brenda complains, handing it back to her while she pushes the fob to unlock the door. Sharon looks at it but doesn't take it so Brenda opens the back seat door and tosses it in with her own large tote. Brenda's is black and boxy and Sharon's is an expensive leather handbag - standard Los Angeles style, slouchy with a little tassel hanging off the zipper and about four hundred different pockets.
Sharon gets herself into the car and Brenda is glad. Brenda has to scoot up the driver's seat and readjust all the mirrors. Sharon cracks her window and rides with her head back against the headrest, her eyes closed. Brenda, feeling an unfamiliar wave of maternal instinct, reaches over and pats her knee affectionately.
"Why did you let me drink so much?" Sharon mutters with a smirk.
"Getting you all liquored up is the one thing I bring to this friendship," Brenda says.
"You bring many things," Sharon says.
"Oh do I?" Brenda asks. "Pray tell."
"Oh god, Brenda, I don't know. You make me laugh," Sharon says. "You don't complain about where we eat. You always have wine."
"I am everyone's drunk aunt," Brenda says. "That's who you just described."
"My drunk aunt was always my favorite family member," Sharon protests, finally cracking open her eyes to glance at Brenda and make sure she isn't really upset. She isn't. Sharon isn't wrong about any of those things, so how could she be?
"Anyway," Brenda says. "I'm glad that event is behind us."
"You did really well," Sharon says. "Up until you embarrassed me horribly, but before that, a really nice job, so thank you."
"You're welcome," Brenda says. "Only screwin' up a little is all I ever shoot for."
Sharon laughs, a real laugh, dark and throaty.
"You know I said that because I really believe you deserve more," Brenda says. "And Will's got his head so far up his own ass that he might need a little reminding now and then."
"Send him an anonymous note next time, okay?" Sharon says.
"Yes, ma'am," Brenda says. They're close now, nearly to the park. Sharon cracks the window a little more, turning her face toward the fresh air.
"Chief Howard was going to attend," Sharon says. "I told him not to."
"What?" Brenda says. "He was?"
"I think he feels like he needs to make the political effort now that he's a department head," Sharon says. "His party line, anyway."
"You don't have to… don't shoot yourself in the foot tryin' to protect me," Brenda says. "He's still your superior officer."
"Protect you?" Sharon says. "No, I was protecting my event. I didn't need you clamming up at the last minute or him creating some sort of scene."
Brenda rolls her eyes, turns onto Sharon's street. It's tempting to just shove her out of the car and keep driving but it is Sharon's car, so she resists the urge and instead jams her finger into the garage door opener. It controls a gate to let her into the underground parking structure.
"Where do I park?" Brenda asks.
"Next to that Suburban," Sharon says, already unbuckling her seat belt.
Once in the apartment, Sharon disappears into her bathroom leaving Brenda alone in the living room. Rusty isn't home, near as she can tell, though she doesn't go peek into his bedroom to be sure or anything. She sits on one of the stools wondering if it would be weird to just go home but then she knows she promised to at least make sure Sharon eats something.
When Sharon comes out, she's out of her heels and Brenda is looking into her refrigerator.
"There's leftover chicken salad," Sharon says. "If you're hungry."
"For you," Brenda says. "You need to eat!"
"You aren't hungry?" Sharon asks, reaching past her for the sturdy plastic container with its bright green lid.
"Well, I'm always hungry," Brenda says.
"Another thing I like about you," Sharon says. "If we're keeping track."
"Oh, let's," Brenda says. Sharon takes over the kitchen, pulling out the bread and two plates, putting together sandwiches like she's done it a hundred times, a thousand, like she's going to slip it into a paper sack and send Brenda off to school. But she doesn't, she hands it to her on a plate.
"Well what about me?" Sharon demands when they're seated and Brenda has to think for a moment to figure out what she means.
"What do I like about you?" Brenda asks and Sharon nods, her mouth full. "Well…" she drawls. "I think you're smart and organized and you've got your life together."
"You like me because I'm a grown up," Sharon says. "How flattering."
"It ain't just that," Brenda says. "You not only take care of the people you love but you take care of yourself too and that's so good. You buy yourself pretty clothes and nice shoes and always look so put together. You don't sacrifice your own happiness for other people while still managing to be, at least for me anyway, a good friend."
Sharon stares at her for a moment, her eyes large and owlish behind the thick lenses of her glasses. Brenda thinks maybe she'd said too much, that should have said that she likes something simple. Something like, 'I like the fact that you also have no life because it means you're always around.'
"Oh Brenda," Sharon says. "Sometimes you just drive me crazy, you know that?"
Brenda shakes her head, feeling shame crawl up the back of her neck unpleasantly. Here she is sitting in Sharon's house wearing the beautiful dress that Sharon had bought her and she just doesn't deserve any of it.
"I meant it nice, I'm not sayin' it right," Brenda says. "I never say it right."
"You said it perfectly," Sharon says. "And it makes me crazy." She tucks her hair behind her ears with both hands and leans back, her long legs crossed.
Brenda doesn't know what to say, doesn't know if she's done good or bad. She looks down at her sandwich - whole wheat bread, homemade chicken cut into big chunks, a leaf of bright green lettuce. Sharon's is mostly gone but Brenda has only taken a few bites and now she's not even hungry.
"I'm a handful," Brenda says, finally.
"I forgot about having friends, what's it's like," Sharon says. "How it feels to care about someone you aren't related to. That you have no claim on, really."
Brenda thinks about Sharon telling the entire room today that Brenda was her dear friend. She hears her mama's voice say, Your best girlfriend, Sharon which is how she would have phrased it were she still alive.
"You can stake whatever claim on me that you want to," Brenda says now. "You don't scare me off, Captain Raydor."
Sharon smirks at her, just one corner of her mouth curling up.
"I think I'm still a little drunk," Sharon says, her voice low. And then, "You look so pretty in that dress, Brenda."
Brenda giggles. "Yes, you are definitely still drunk."
Sharon lets the other corner of her mouth curl up, too.
But Brenda understands. Sometimes she looks at Sharon and she just sees Sharon, another busy woman who is trying to carve out a little time for herself. But sometimes she looks at her - like now when she's all gussied up or when they're fighting or when she's barking orders and Brenda feels a little crazy too. Like she's burning up inside.