[ Part Nine ]
N O W
Sharon gave a soft groan of pleasure when her fingers closed around the chilled glass, the moisture of the condensed water wetting her fingertips slightly. She brought the glass to her lips and took a small sip, the taste of the dry white wine spreading through her mouth, leaving her throat with comforting warmth. She was determined to enjoy the one glass she could allow herself tonight after a long day of complicated issues, endless meetings with lawyers and numerous dirty glances from upset police officers. Treading carefully not to spill a drop, she carried her glass over to the coffee table where her plate of sandwiches was already waiting. With a sight she lowered herself down, grabbing a throw pillow to hug it to her chest, praying that no police officer would choose to even as much as just accidentally discharge their weapon tonight. As she was the one who was running the department, she was not officially on the call roster and she usually had no problem taking advantage of the privileges her high rank brought about. However, she had two officers on her team who had just become parents for the first time and so she had chosen to not put them on call for a few weeks so they could get acquainted to parenthood without having to leave the house in a hurry in the middle of the night. Sharon was a strict boss who always expected top performances and thorough investigations, but she was also conscious of her subordinates' needs, especially when it came to family. Right now, however, she regretted the decision because she had been dealing with so much today that she was desperately longing for a hot bath and at least two glasses of the fine French pinot grigio her favorite wine bar served.
She had taken her shoes off the moment she had entered the house and now curled her toes into the rug and closed her eyes, sipping her drink slowly. She knew that she should have eaten first, but somehow the day's events had taken her appetite away. Working in FID wasn't as hard as it used to be; she had quite a reputation now, so most officers met her with grudging respect and she had grown a thick skin over the years when it came to insults or ridicule. In fact, she rather enjoyed her role as the powerful outsider most of the time, knowing that she had a circle of devoted friends and her two children who loved her. At work she didn't need to be liked; in fact it helped her cause not to be too close to anyone. Her phone chirped and she grinned at the text message: "Nice job today. Too bad you're on call. I'll show you my new watering hole next weekend. No excuses. XO, G." Gavin had become one of her closest friends. Having worked with the attorney on numerous occasions, she had come to appreciate his witty sense of humor and his kind heart.
Sharon was still debating whether to turn on the television or make an attempt to work up enough concentration to read a book when she heard a key in the lock. Her eyes flitted towards the clock on her desk; it was too early for Lizzie to be home yet. A moment later she heard a bag drop in the hall, followed by a pair of trainers and then her daughter appeared in the doorway, wearing an expression that was somewhere between moping and devastation. Sharon cocked her head, already vaguely expecting what was coming next.
"Sam's gay," she murmured without preamble and heavily dropped on to the couch next to her mother. "Says he wasn't sure before, but after dating me he is." She folded her arms in front of her chest and gloomily stared at the coffee table in front of her in silence. Although Sharon felt sympathy for her daughter, she had to suppress a laugh at the almost comical display of hurt pride. She knew that Lizzie had just picked someone she got along well with at ballet school to go on a date with because all of her friends were currently trying their hand at the dating game. There hadn't been any genuinely romantic feelings involved yet and for that Sharon was glad as it meant hurt feelings rather than true heart break. She wrapped one arm around her daughter and felt her embrace her tightly in return. Lizzie was a lot like Sharon had been at seventeen. Head full of ballet, novels and music, curious about boys but not actually willing to commit to a relationship just for the sake of having one. She was waiting for someone she really liked and Sharon hoped that it would not be a brilliant but self-centered law student. Sam had been the rare exception and a selfish little part of Sharon was glad that she would have her child to herself for a little while longer.
"I feel like an idiot, Mom. Boys turn gay after dating me. What does that say about me?" Lizzie lamented into her mother's shoulder, causing a smile to appear on Sharon's face that, fortunately, she could not see with her head buried in the sweater.
"Nothing, actually," Sharon said softly. "People don't turn gay. They just are and you actually did him quite a favor in helping him learn more about his own sexuality. It's also quite a testament to his trust in you that he was so open about it."
Lizzie gave a little growl that reminded Sharon of her brother. Thinking about Tom still gave her the slightest pang of pain even though she should have been used to missing him on a daily basis by now. After all, her son had moved to Washington, D.C. for college almost two years ago.
"I know, Mom. You've said that before, but that's what it is going to look like to people at school. Lizzie Raydor is such a boring person that guys who date her are put off girls forever!"
Straightening up, she looked at Sharon again with an expectant look that she knew was her way of asking her to tell her that everything would be okay. For a second she took in her daughter's straight caramel-colored hair that she wore at shoulder-length and her blue eyes that were the exact shade of her father's.
"If they do say that at all, let them. Your friends will understand and that's all that matters."
Lizzie still looked miserable, so Sharon decided to bring out the big guns. "I know exactly what you need. It's in the freezer downstairs. Ben and Jerry's."
Lizzie's eyes lit up as only a teenager's could at the mention of ice-cream.
"My favorite?"
"Chocolate chip, of course," Sharon beamed.
There was a small moment of silence, then Lizzie narrowed her eyes.
"Mom... you knew this would happen, didn't you?" She looked as if she couldn't decide whether to be angry or amused so Sharon just shrugged apologetically.
"I have 50 years of experience with human beings, honey. That is a lot compared to your seventeen."
"I'll get the ice-cream," Lizzie murmured.
"Bring two spoons!" Sharon called after her, earning a huff. She indulged in a little chuckle that was immediately silenced by the sudden but immediately persistent ringing of her cell phone. With a pained moan she grabbed the offending piece of technology. She had to try hard not to allow the annoyed tone to seep into her voice as she answered it. When Lizzie returned with the ice-cream, Sharon was already slipping on her shoes and throwing the dark-blue trench coat around her shoulders. Despite her apologetic smile, her daughter's face fell.
"A crime scene?" she asked wearily. "I thought we might watch a movie and lament my general existence."
Sharon was glad that Lizzie's sense of humor seemed to be about to return, but she still closed the distance between them and hugged her to her chest, kissing the top of her head. "I put 'The First Wives' club in the VCR. It's what Gavin likes to watch when he's been dumped. Although I might have to remind you that poor Sam has done nothing wrong at all."
Lizzie crinkled her nose. "Stop being so damn understanding of everyone," she growled good-naturedly. "For tonight I am going to pretend that he's the biggest asshole ever and tomorrow after practice we're going to hang out again like we used to."
"That's my girl." Sharon stepped back and grabbed her keys from the table in the hall. "If I'm lucky, I'll be home in time for 'You don't own me'."
Sharon couldn't deny that she liked the grim faces of the crime scene personnel as she had her sergeants strip away the standard yellow LAPD crime scene tape and replace it with FID's red one. She was, very literally, staking her claim here and she didn't even have to slow her pace to have it done as her subordinate officers were the ones who did the legwork. Lights were flashing and a small crowd had gathered but she didn't let herself be distracted, all the while barking the usual orders at her people while she was surveying the scene, trying to take in all the details. It was the figure standing next to Lieutenant Provenza by the side of the crime scene that almost made her freeze in her tracks. It took all her self-restraint to continue going about her business although her heart had suddenly started to slam against her ribs.
Andy Flynn.
Seventeen years and seeing him still felt like a blow to the stomach. She buried her hands in her pockets both out of habit and vaguely aware of the fact that she was trying not to let anyone see them tremble at the sight of him. Considering the fact that they were both working for the LAPD, they had managed to stay clear of each other remarkably well ever since she'd notified him of his partner's death. In fact, they'd only ever seen each other in passing and their interactions had merely consisted of polite nods or quick glances. He'd only been in trouble with her division a handful of times and in the beginning she had handed all of it off to Ginger to deal with while she now didn't handle minor offenses herself at all anymore. She'd heard that Provenza had been his partner for a few years now and she found that both oddly infuriating and a bit amusing. She also wondered whether the old lieutenant knew of his partner's former relationship with what he considered his arch nemesis for some reason that was well beyond her understanding.
With deliberate ease she approached the two men but almost recoiled when Andy addressed her by her rank and last name.
"Captain Raydor!"
Her throat became dry at the sound of his voice. A little more gruff with age and yet the very same melodic tone she had grown so used to back then. And here they were. In the middle of the night, at another crime scene, on opposite sides of the red tape again. Only this time he wasn't the officer who had broken the rules of professional conduct but a concerned squad mate who was here to oversee the proceedings.
"Lieutenant Flynn. I am a little busy. What is it?" It took a lot of strength to keep up her stride when she walked towards him, stopping right in front of him and Provenza.
"Well, we were wondering if while you are investigating the shooting of a scumbag suspect, maybe we might be able to look into the actual murder," Flynn said, not aggressively, yet pointedly. While she managed to keep a straight face through Provenza's ramblings about Chief Johnson's stance on all of it, Sharon was fighting an inner battle with herself. It felt as if she was just listening to herself rehashing the whole thing about this being her jurisdiction for the umpteenth time. Sometime she wondered why everyone was always so intent on taking her cases away from her. Wouldn't they be glad to go home to their families? Or girlfriends?
"That dead body over there is ours!" Provenza protested and she turned away from them with a sing song in her voice that she was channeling her nervousness into. "Not tonight!"
Conscious of a rambling Taylor on her heels, she made her way away from Flynn and Provenza, determined not to look back at them. She and Andy hadn't exchanged more than two sentences, but she felt ready to faint. She asked Taylor which hospital she was headed to and made for her car again, eager to be able to make it away from the scene before the full reality of it all caught up with her. It was too late, though, as the shock wore off and was replaced with decades-old dread as soon as she had reached her car. She placed one hand against the driver's door for support and took a deep, calming breath. No matter how she usually could, she was unable to fool herself right now. Cutting someone out of your life and burying yourself in the other aspects of it, your children, work, church, your friends, only worked if you were not in denial. And in denial Sharon had obviously been for seventeen years. If all it took to make her falter was one glimpse of Andy Flynn, she had to admit to herself, she was not over what had happened. A small part of her had known all along that it had been wrong not to tell anyone about Andy. He was still her secret after all those years. Jack didn't know of his existence, Lizzie had never met him and Tom only vaguely remembered a friend from work visiting them from time to time. Not even Gavin knew and they had told each other everything about their love lives despite that. Andy, however, had been locked up inside her along with the pain of losing him ever since that night when she'd last talked to him.
After leaving his house all those years ago, she had wiped her tears away, corrected her eye make-up and had gone home to Jack and her children. She had tiptoed into Tommy's room and had kissed his sleeping form goodnight and had given Lizzie a midnight feeding before she'd climbed under the covers with Jack. Sharon had slept with him for the first time that night ever since Lizzie had been conceived and she'd found herself feeling numb and alone afterward, even though Jack was holding her tenderly, whispering his love into her ear. Sharon swallowed. If she had been able to lock her feelings away for seventeen years, she would be able to continue doing so until this investigation was over.
"Excuse me?"
She whirled around at the familiar drawl and found Andy standing there. She was about to call him by his first name when she spotted Provenza standing by their car just a few yards away. Unsure how to address him in a semi-private situation like this, she settled for a simple "yes?". It was odd how eyes that had once been familiar always stayed familiar. She could still read Jack like an open book although his visits came far and in between and looking into Andy's eyes was a little bit like coming home. To an empty house, she reminded herself, as what they'd had had ended a long time ago. By her own choice.
"You've lost this." He opened his hand and held it out to her so she could see the small golden object there that she immediately recognized as one of her favorite earrings. Her hand came up to her earlobe as if on its own accord and found it bare, confirming that this was actually hers. She was about to ask him how he had known that it was when it struck her. She'd owned these earrings for a long time and as fate would have it, she had worn them to another scene seventeen years ago. She picked it up while trying to avoid her fingertips touching his skin. They did anyway.
"Thank you," she said. "That was very kind of you."
Now that he was so close, she could tell that he smelled the exact same way he had back then. She couldn't say whether he was still using the same cologne or whether it had never been the perfume in the first place, but the scent enveloped her and immediately catapulted her back to a different time. She shook her head to chase the memories away that were welling up like blood from a fresh cut.
"Well, your money is hard-earned, I guess," he said evenly. "Annoying others for a living and all."
He turned away and walked towards Provenza before Sharon had a chance to retaliate. She watched his retreating back and Provenza's condescending smirk but felt oddly comforted. While she would have liked for him to stay just a little longer, she was also a little grateful that he had left. The sharp end of the earring dug into her palm until it drew blood and she welcomed the sting and a moment later the sensation of a few drops of warm blood pooling inside her fist.
She didn't make it home for the end of the movie that night and she hardly stopped by for dinner the one after. Dealing with the notoriously difficult Brenda Leigh Johnson was even harder than she had expected, but at least the conflict had taken her mind off Andy for the time being. Now, however, that she was comfortably curled up on her couch with a book in her lap and a glass of wine in her hand, she couldn't shake off the feeling that seeing Andy again had opened something up inside her. Her administrative position and rank had allowed her to get off early so she was once again awaiting Lizzie already when she came in the door. Her daughter looked to be in a much better mood today as she discarded her ballet bag by the door and hung her jacket in the hallway. Her hands in her jeans pockets, she wandered into the living-room.
"What's for dinner?" she asked, famished as usual after a hard round of practice. Lizzie had the gift of a naturally lean body and had never needed to watch her weight even for ballerina standards which Sharon was very grateful for.
"I haven't decided yet," she said, setting her book aside. "Any preferences?"
Lizzie sat down opposite her mother in one of the armchairs. "Can you make the tomato sauce?"
Sharon smiled and nodded, suddenly choked up. "The tomato sauce" was a term that never had to be specified as her children loved the recipe she had once been taught by Andy. "Maybe I should teach you how to make it," she said. "You don't have much time left until you go away for college."
"Mom, you old sap! It's still a year away!" Lizzie protested. "Don't you tear up now!"
Sharon chuckled as she rose from her couch. "Don't flatter yourself. I can't wait to buy myself a neat little apartment in Los Feliz that isn't as much work as this house."
"Yeah, yeah," Lizzie cooed as she followed Sharon into the kitchen and took a can of soda out of the fridge. Sharon playfully shooed her aside and took the desired items out, methodically piling everything up next to the stove. It was a weird day, gloomy outside and the last sunlight of the day seemed to come through a filter that dipped everything in shades of ocher. She turned towards her daughter and took in her young, uncorrupted beauty. The little make-up she wore had worn off with the physical exertion and her hair that she wore in a strict bun for practice was falling around her face in soft strands now. Sharon looked into her eyes and tried to conjure up a mental image of Jack, but saw only Andy. He looked good with his salt and pepper hair and the new lines around his eyes. The boyish attitude was still there, even more out of place with age and alluring precisely because of that very fact.
"Did you see Sam today?" she asked as she rummaged through her pantry to find the right pan. Lizzie sat down on the table and swung her legs lightly.
"Yeah. It's all cool. He told me to keep his secret a little longer. Actually, he offered to tell the others that I dumped him because he wasn't smart enough for me."
Sharon grinned into her wine glass. "What did you say?"
"I told him to tell people the truth. Or at least part of it: That we're better off as friends. I mean, it never got to the point where we couldn't be friends anymore, right?"
"Yes," Sharon agreed, having to clear her throat and repeat what she'd said because her voice was cracking at the notion and what it had meant for her and Andy. Lizzie slid off the table and walked towards her mother, looking mildly worried.
"Are you okay, Mom?"
Sharon was of the firm belief that children should be children. Her daughter wasn't her best friend and she would not whine to her about her past regrets. Never would she tell her anything that would maneuver her into a position where she might feel she had to keep her mother's secrets from her father. Then again, she hardly ever spoke to Jack on the phone, let along see him in person. The stressful few days, the latent crisis with Major Crimes and most of all, the – if brief – reappearance of Andy Flynn in her life finally took their toll on her and she found herself giving the one dry sob that she always allowed herself as she was suddenly in Lizzie's arms. It still surprised her that the tiny girl that she had carried around, whose tears she had dried and whose hand she had held was now grown and mature enough to feel like a real lifeline.
"Come on, Mom. You can't fool me. Something's wrong with you and you don't usually cry over impertinent blond superior officers."
Despite herself, Sharon laughed into her shoulder. "No, it's not her."
Lizzie drew back and looked at her. "Then what is it?" she asked, not yet old enough to understand that sometimes demanding to know something wasn't the right course of action, even if the person in question was her own mother. Sharon was all too happy to indulge her, however, as suddenly, after all those years, she felt the need to get the old secret off her chest.
"This is something you might not want to know about me," she warned in a small voice. "I made a mistake years ago and I think it just came back to haunt me today."
"Mom, you're scaring me," Lizzie replied, only half-joking. She snatched Sharon's empty glass from the counter and carried it to the fridge where she poured her a generous helping of her favorite white despite her protest. "I know, the 'one-glass-on-a-weekday'-rule, but there is actually an exception to that called 'two-glasses-in-times-of-emotional-distress'."
Sharon shook her head. "I don't need alcohol to get through emotional distress, honey." She knew that her children needed at least one positive role model when it came to responsible drinking habits, but her daughter seemed to have enough faith in her to know that she was never in danger of developing an addiction. Most nights she preferred tea, anyway. Grudgingly accepting the offered drink, she led Lizzie to the table and leaned against the counter to take a long sip.
"There is this guy-" Realizing how cliched this beginning sounded, she cleared her throat and decided to start out differently. "You know, when I was pregnant with you, your dad and I went through a rough patch."
"When did you not?" Lizzie asked sarcastically, her disdain for her father showing so clearly that it made Sharon's heart ache, especially after seeing Andy again. All she had wanted to do was give her children a proper family and a chance to know her father and what had she chosen over Andy? More heartbreak. For all three of them.
"I met him through work," Sharon decided that it would be better to keep the details vague. The emotional core was what mattered here, not the exact circumstances. "I was alone and miserable and so was he. We became friends and-" She trailed off, her haze of emotions lifting for just a second to make her realize what she was about to do and why she had never done it before. Lizzie was the last person she was supposed to tell about this. She was the ultimate reason why she had given up Andy and if she told her that, she might feel guilty about it. Lizzie was smart but in many ways she was still too inexperienced to see that Jack was the one to blame. She blamed him plenty, that much was obvious, but like many children from a broken marriage, she sometimes seemed to think that things might have turned out differently due to something she'd done. It was a thought Sharon had worked hard to erase from her mind and she was not about to plant its seed again by telling her about her personal sacrifice that had turned out be ultimately meaningless.
"We've- we've lost touch when your father returned from rehab," she finished weakly. "I saw him again today and it struck me how far you can drift apart over time."
If Lizzie knew she was lying, she didn't show any signs of it. "Why wouldn't I want to know that about you?" she asked. "Did you break his heart or something?"
She had broken both of theirs in one act but she was not about to disclose that information.
"No," she said simply. "No, it wasn't like that. You know, people from FID, people from the rest of the force... that just doesn't work out in the long haul. I meant that I wouldn't win a popularity contest any time soon."
Lizzie pretended to be surprised. "Really, Mom? Tell me, did you slap that woman from Major Crimes with your 'I must go first speech' again?"
Sharon burst out laughing as she had indeed done just that. Lizzie shook her head.
"I knew it, you crazy old woman. Now show me how to make that tomato sauce so I can survive without you at some point in the distant future."
Sharon swallowed, the tight feeling in her chest resolved for now. She hadn't crossed paths with Andy Flynn for seventeen years, chances were that she wouldn't again for a while. Still, she resolved to tell Gavin about him at some point between margaritas number five and six when they were both past the stage where they still cared about keeping up appearances. After all, she had learned a lot of dirty details about Gavin's love life that way that she'd rather forget.
"Okay," she instructed. "Rule one: Always use olive oil. Extra virgin. No butter. Get it?"
"Yes Ma'am." Lizzie saluted. "How much?"
Two hours later, after having eaten and having shared a cup of tea, both shuffled upstairs to their individual bedrooms. When Tom had moved out, Lizzie had taken over his bedroom, while his things had been moved to her smaller one and in front of its door was where Sharon, emerging from the bathroom in her pajamas, kissed her daughter goodnight. She was almost back at the other end of the landing, her hand already outstretched towards her own door when Lizzie's head peeked out through the half-closed bathroom door.
"Mom?"
Sharon turned around and cocked her head. "Yes?"
"Tom and I do talk, you know."
Sharon shook her head in confusion. "I know, of course. So?"
Lizzie gave a devious grin. "If you would like to see Andy again, you probably should." And with that the door clicked shut behind her.
A/N: Thank you all SO MUCH for all of your lovely reviews! It broke my heart to write the last scene of chapter 8 and I am glad that I finally got started on the second part. I hope you liked it, too, and forgive me the slow pace. :)