DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND BABY KIERAN.
Life lessons
"Well I take my time
Never notice changes anyway
But lately I've been waking up to
All that we've done, change that has come
There's just no escaping the damage we do
But we get along
Going through our paces in the world
And maybe I could always be fooled
But you brought me here, you're making it clear
You're taking the veil I look through
Love never lies
Love never sneaks around at night
Love won't turn its back on you when you turn out the light
Love won't ever walk away carelessly
That's the way that love is, darling."
-Love Never Lies, Blue Rodeo
"I'm nervous," Samantha declared.
It was shortly before three in the afternoon on Boxing Day. The sun was high and bright in the sky but was ultimately deceiving. The temperatures hadn't gotten above freezing in nearly two weeks and a light snow was adding to the inches already on the sidewalks and streets.
They stood on the small landing just outside of the Moran's front door. Flack carrying Kieran in one arm and the baby bag on the other, while his wife juggled a large china plate holding various Christmas treats she had made covered with tin foil and a large gift bag that held the small tokens of appreciation that they had brought along for Gavin and Andrea and their grandchildren.
Sam had to spend. It was a rule. If she could come up with an excuse to buy something for someone, than nothing Flack said or did could convince her otherwise. When she'd come home an hour after her shift two weeks ago with a Bloomingdale's bag in tow, he just pictured the charges on the credit card bill that would be arriving the following month.
"What are you so nervous about?" Flack asked, as he reached for the doorbell.
"I don't know…I've just never been good when it comes to meeting new people," she replied. "I'm shy."
Flack's eyes widened and he looked at his wife. "Excuse me? You shy?" he burst out laughing.
"What?" she asked incredulously. "I am!"
"Babe, I can think of a lot of words I could use to describe you. But shy doesn't even crack the top one hundred."
"Okay, smart ass. So give me the top five than," she challenged.
"I don't know…down to earth, bubbly, friendly, outgoing, luminescent."
"Luminescent!" it was her turn to laugh. "You've been reading some big books with big words to come up with that one detective," she teased.
"Detective Sargent," he corrected her, and dropped a kiss on the top of her head before laying a finger down on the doorbell. "Wanna hear number six?" he asked, looking down at her with a sly grin on his face as they waited for someone to answer the chime.
"I don't know," she replied. "Do I?"
He nodded.
She arched an eyebrow.
"Perpetually horny," he said.
She snorted. "You wish."
"Are you going to deny it? Please tell me you're not going to deny it."
"I am not always horny," she argued, shifting from side to side in an attempt to keep warm in the sub zero temperatures.
"Don't lie in front of your son," Flack said. "You're setting a bad example."
Sam smirked and set the bag down on the recently shovelled landing. Reaching around her husband and underneath the bottom of his jacket, she slipped her hand up and pinched his ass. Hard.
"Do you mind, woman?" he exclaimed and jumped away from her. "I know you have a hard time keeping your hands off of me but don't be feeling my ass up in public."
"You've never had a problem with it before," she said, winking at him and moving her hand up even further, this time to rest on the small of his back. "I mean just last night you were…"
The heavy wooden front door clicked open and Andrea Moran stood before them with a bright smile. Dressed sharply in a dark grey pencil skirt and cream coloured chenille sweater. Drying her hands on the festive apron tied around her waist.
"Merry Christmas!" she greeted cheerfully and held the door open. "Come on…come on. No sense standing out in that bitter cold any longer than you have to."
They kicked snow off of their boots and stepped inside the spacious breezeway with its gleaming ceramic tiled floor and its high cove ceiling that boasted a dazzling crystal and gold chandelier. On each side of the front door, running vertically, were elaborate, brightly coloured panes of stained glass. Flack was impressed. So was his wife by the look of appreciation and slight awe that was on her face as her eyes took everything in. All he could think was how in the hell Moran could ever afford a place like that.
"I know what you're thinking," Andrea said, as her guests toed off their boots and set them on the rubber mat by the side of the door.
"And what's that?" Flack asked, as he undid the tie under Kieran's chin that was holding his blue and white stripped wool hat on his head. He stuffed the hat inside of his own coat pocket and unzipped his son's one piece snowsuit.
"You're wondering how Gav and I afford this place," Andrea replied. "Well let me assure you, we are living just comfortable and than some. We won the lottery last year."
Flack's eyes widened. "Get outta here. Are you kidding me?"
Andrea laughed. "Yeah…I am. My father left us a very nice inheritance when he passed. Between what he gave us and what we got selling the old place and using some of Gav's pension, we were able to buy this place, furnish it and decorate it and still have a nice healthy sum in the bank."
"It's beautiful," Sam praised. "I'd kill for stained glass like that. And floors like this. We have hard wood that has seen better days. These are for you," she held out the plate of desserts and the shopping bag. "It's not much. Just some stuff I made and a few little things that Donnie and I got for you and Gavin and your grandchildren."
"You didn't have to do that sweetheart," Andrea said, embracing the young woman and kissing both of her cheeks softly.
Sam didn't react right away. She'd never been a touchy-feely type of person, and didn't feel like she knew Andrea Moran enough to hug her and show that kind of affection. But she got over it quickly and embraced the other woman briefly and drew away with a pleasant smile on her face.
"We wanted to," Sam told her.
"She just likes having another reason to spend my pay," Flack joked. "Boxing Day to her is just another reason to shop. And trust me, she doesn't need anymore reasons to max out the credit cards."
"Ha-ha," Sam scoffed. "Very funny."
"Well, come on in," Andrea said and pushed open the doors that led into the living room.
It was enormous and immaculate. Furnished with all white couches and chairs and highly polished cherry wood flooring and glass topped tables. A gas fireplace stretching across the wall across from them, the mantle boasting photographs in frames that matched the floor. A white Christmas tree, done in all silver and various colours of blue ornaments and dressed up by a silver and blue embroidered skirt, towered in the corner.
Not the kind of place Flack say someone who shopped at Target living in.
"Gav and the girls and their hubbies are in the den with the boys," Andrea told them. "It's where we put the big tree and all of the presents. We were going to have things in the family room downstairs, but Gavin still hasn't gotten around to adding more insulation and I was afraid it was too cold for a little one to be down there. Did the three of you have a nice Christmas?"
"It was tiring," Flack said. "Exhausting, actually. Nothing but Kieran bouncing off the walls and freaking out over opening presents. We were dead on our feet by the time we got back from my folks and in bed and out like a light well before midnight. And that's rare for us."
"How are your folks?" Andrea asked.
"Alright. My mom's still as feisty as ever and my dad is still as grumpy as ever. Nothing will ever change there."
"They must just love having another grandson," Andrea commented. "He's just such a little darling. I can't get over how much he looks like you, Donnie. Spitting image. Except for those freckles on his nose. Which I can see he inherited from his mother."
"He gets all the cute from her," Flack said, and winked at his wife.
They headed passed a formal dining room closed off with French doors and passed through the massive country style kitchen that was filled with the delicious aromas of a Christmas dinner in preparation. Andrea led the way towards the den situated at the back of the house. Laughter and conversation filtering out.
"Our guests are here," Andrea announced as she stepped into the room. "Take your coats off and I'll put them upstairs on one of the beds," she told Flack and Sam. "And feel free to let the little guy wander around. Lots of toys here for him to play with. Six boys between my girls as you can see. All under five. It's just pure insanity."
Flack set Kieran on the ground and got him out of his snow suit. Watching as his son, all confidence and swagger at almost a year, as he sauntered, albeit a little unsteadily, towards the Christmas tree and all of the brightly wrapped presents that were underneath.
"Vikki," Andrea called to her one daughter. "Get the baby one of his presents and let him open it."
"You didn't have to buy him anything," Flack told her. "Trust me, he's spoiled enough."
"We know we didn't have to. We wanted to," Gavin Moran informed him as he joined his wife and the guests. He and Flack embraced warmly. "Merry Christmas."
"You, too, Gav. Thanks for inviting us. This is my wife, Samantha. Sam, this is Gavin Moran."
"Pleasure to meet you," Moran said, offering his hand.
"Likewise," she said with a bright smile and shook his hand warmly. "Donnie's told me so much about you. About how you used to bust his butt when he was rookie and you were his training officer."
"He was a great pupil," Moran praised. "One of the best, if not the best, that I ever have. I like to take some responsibility for him climbing the ladder so quickly. I like to think that it was my fine supervisory skills that helped make him a detective Sargent at such a young age. Broke a fifty year old department record from what I hear by making it before you turned thirty-one."
"That's what I heard too," Flack said modestly.
"Don't be shy," Moran chided him. "It's a huge deal, Donnie. I'm sure your wife would tell you the same thing."
She nodded and smiled at her husband and slipped an arm around her waist. "I tend to be a very proud wife. I brag a lot to people."
"It's something to brag about," Moran told her. "And trust me, a proud, understanding cop's wife is hard to find. So hang on to this one, Donnie. I don't want to see you going back to your old habits. I'd hate to have find out from this pretty young lady that you're being a scum bag and be forced to kick your ass."
"Don't worry about me, Gav," the younger man said and smiled down at his wife. "I'm not going anywhere. At least not for fifty, sixty years God willing."
"Well come on in and I'll introduce you two to everyone," Moran said. "Make yourselves at home. You want anything to drink? We've got beer, wine, coolers. Pick your poison and we got it. There's pop of all kinds for the abstainers like Donnie here."
"Pop's fine," Flack said.
"Samantha?" Moran asked. "Glass of wine?"
"No thank you. I'm staying away from alcohol. For a little while anyway."
"More like for the next nine months," Flack told Moran.
The older man clued in right away. A broad smile crossing his face. "You serious? You two are expecting another baby?"
"Just found out on Christmas Eve," Flack said proudly.
"Congratulations," Moran embraced his old friend once again. "Great news, Donnie. Looks like the two of you are doing a great job with the one that you have. He's damn adorable. Smart, huh? Walking that good already?"
"He's always been pretty quick at learning new things," Flack said. "Gets his smarts from his mother."
"Well thank the good Lord for that," Moran laughed.
He introduced them his sons in law first. Rob was his Vikki's husband. A broker for one of the bigger firms on Wall Street. It was owned by his father and he was all lined up to take over the helm of things. Harrison was Diana's husband. A broker as well but for a smaller, less known firm on the lower east side. Both young men were tall and athletic and exceptionally built.
Harrison was blond and well tanned and reminded Flack of a guy you'd see hanging out on the beach in California surfing and wearing nothing but Abercombrie and Fitch. With his perfectly straight and gleaming white teeth and his khaki Dockers and Ralph Lauren polo shirt, the guy seemed he would have been more at home in the Hampton's than related to a retired cop. He was also as phony as all hell and had a weak handshake a voice that was a little too feminine to not draw suspicion. Rob on the other hand -not Robert or Robbie, strictly Rob- was friendly and easy going and genuinely warm. He was tall and dark and big and broad and built like a brick shit house. From his years playing rugby and football at Boston College. And from serving a stint in the Marines. Flack could tell, by the way Moran praised the young man and talked so highly of him that this Rob kid was Gavin's favourite.
"Well I'll be…Donnie Flack," Moran's daughter Diana greeted him with a bright smile as she finally found her way over to where he and Sam were sitting on one of the leather couches, nibbling on finger food and sipping Coke on the rocks.
"Diana," he said simply and stood up, giving her a light kiss on the cheek. "Nice to see you again. It's been a long time."
"It has," she agreed. "I hear you're some kind of big shot in the department now."
He shook his head. "I'm just a detective Sargent. No huge deal. Here you're doing well for yourself. Nice husband, great kids."
"We have a lovely life," she agreed. "Your son is just precious. Looks just like you. I bet you hear that all the time."
"Nearly three hundred and sixty five days a year," he chuckled.
"I can't get over how much you've changed," she gushed. "You're much bigger than the last time I saw you. And the hair. Nice and short."
"And going grey," he added.
"It suits you. Glad to see you cut all of that hair off. Mind you, it was one of the things that attracted me to you. Made you seem like a bit of a bad boy."
Sam cleared her throat noisily from where she now had risen to her feet beside her husband.
"Diana, this is my wife, Samantha," Flack introduced. "Sammie, this is Diana. The oldest of the twins."
"Nice to meet you," Diana said as she shook the other woman's hand. "Never thought I'd see the day when someone tamed him. He was the one that all the girls wanted but none of us could seem to get. Glad to see someone finally managed. What was your secret?"
"I don't think you want me to answer that," Sam responded. "This is a family party. Not an x-rated one."
Flack smirked when he saw the somewhat startled expression that took over Diana's face. Moran's daughter was guilty of what most people who first encountered Sam were. Looking at this tiny, fresh faced brunette and assuming she was the shy, 'take any shit that came her way' girl next door. And she had found out quick, that the Brooklyn girl was no push over.
"Mommy!" Diana's older, Brock, bellowed from the other side of the room.
"Excuse me," she said to Flack and Sam and quickly departed.
"Classic," Flack chuckled as he and his wife sat back down. "That was a real nice line, babe. You're a real pro at starting conversations."
"More like shutting down conversations that don't need to be had between your current wife and an old girlfriend," she huffed and sipped her pop.
"An old girlfriend? Are you kidding me? I never dated her. First off, I was never interested in her. Second, even if I was, Gav never would had let me within ten feet of her."
"So she's just another member of the Don Flack Jr fan club?" Sam quipped.
"More like a another member of the Don Flack Jr flavour of the month club," he corrected.
She glared at him.
"Joking…just joking…don't tell me you're jealous of Diana."
Sam ignored him. "So tell me," she said, swirling her ice around in her glass. "How many of those members did you actually get to taste?"
He grinned and wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him. He pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "You know what? I only have a flavour of my life club now. And there's only one member."
A slow smiled spread across her face. "You are so damn lucky you had something cute to say instead of something sarcastic. Because if anything remotely off hand had have come out of your mouth, you would have found your ass on the couch for many, many years."
"Mom-meee," Kieran chirped as he toddled over to his parents, a large stuffed Ernie doll from Sesame Street clutched tightly in one hand and a sprinkled shortbread cookie in the other.
"Hi, baby," she greeted. "What do you have there?"
"Dis," he responded and plopped Ernie into her lap. Than proceeded to, with some difficulty and a lot of grunting and groaning and hard work, climb onto the couch between his parents, stand up and turn himself around and than plop down hard on his ass, sandwiching himself between his mom and dad.
"Where'd you get the cookie?" Flack asked. "Can daddy have some?"
Kieran shook his head.
"Please? Let daddy have a bite," he said, reaching for the cookie.
"NO!" Kieran screeched. "MINE!"
"Kieran Shaun Donald Flack!" Sam scolded. "That wasn't very nice. Be nice to your daddy. You don't want daddy taking the cookie away because your bad do you? Be a good boy. Now can mommy have some of your cookie?"
He smiled brightly and held it up to her. "Mom-meee," he said.
"Thank you, baby boy," she pressed a kiss to his forehead and took a bite of the cookie. And than smiled victoriously at her husband.
"Oh I see how this works," Flack said. "You have him wrapped around your little finger."
"Actually," she corrected. "I have all the men in our house wrapped around my little finger."
Flack just smiled.
He could find no argument there.
Dinner had long been served and the dishes cleared away. Both of Gavin and Andrea's daughters had departed for the night. The drives to Long Island and Far Rockaway were time consuming in perfect weather conditions. With the strong winds and snow and the ice pellets that had been coming down for an hour straight, it was going to take twice as long to get home. And the thought of being stuck in a car with small children for longer than was necessary was a terrifying one.
Samantha helped Andrea in the kitchen. Assisting in the rinsing of plates and saucers and cups and silverware and placing them in the dishwasher. The men were still holed up in the den, talking about old times on the streets while keeping an eye on Kieran who was growing weary but still refused to give up playing with all of the toys that the Moran's had bestowed on him.
The two women got along well. They had found there were similarties that existed between them that went beyond simply being married to cops. They had both grown up in Crown Heights, Brooklyn. Sam in the tenament housing complex not far from the infamous, low income building that Andrea had lived in years before. Both were from broken homes. Andrea's birth father had skipped town with another woman when she was five and her mother had remarried when she was in her teens. Both attended St Gregory the Great elementary school and than St Mary's Co-Ed high school. And they both worked part time at the same Denny's as waitresses, even if it was fifteen years apart.
Andrea found the younger woman warm and unassuming. She laughed easily and seemed to be fit in well. She carried on conversations easily once she felt comfortable, and was likeable and friendly. And obviously adored by her husband. And vice versa. It was in the way that the young couple looked at each other. The way they smiled at one another and listened intently when the other talked, their eyes never leaving each other's faces. They were a couple very much in love. Who mutually respected and honoured each other. And who had staying power. Their pride in each other was astounding, and Andrea hoped that they looked at each other, and love each other, that same way fifty years from now.
"Donnie was telling Gavin earlier that the two of you are expecting," Andrea commented, as the two women retreated the kitchen table. She'd plugged in the kettle for some fresh tea and had set a plate of sweets on the table.
Sam nodded. "We just found out Christmas Eve. It's somewhat…surprising."
"You weren't looking to having a baby?"
"Well we were trying to get pregnant," Sam said. "We just weren't expecting it to happen as quickly as it did. It's amazing news, don't get me wrong. We're ecstatic. We're just a little overwhelmed by it all."
"Finding out about a pregnancy always is," Andrea sighed. "I was over the moon when I found out I was pregnant. We hadn't been trying long ourselves and it was just the most incredible news ever. But we were so scared! We'd never been parents before. And when we found out it was twins! Let me tell you, Gavin nearly fainted."
Sam laughed and helped herself to a shortbread cookie. "Donnie would have a stroke if there was more than one. That would just blow him away."
"I know pretty much all there is t know about his family. What about yours? Any multiples?"
"My mom has cousins that are triplets. But their in their sixties now and never had more than one baby at a time. Neither has anyone else in our family. So I doubt the gene is just lingering on waiting for me to find out what I'm having."
"You never know," Andrea said, and got up from the table when the kettle clicked off. "I have heard of stranger things. It could have just been lying in wait all these years and you could be the lucky one."
"I don't know how I'd feel about that," Sam admitted. "One baby at a time is hard enough work. And Kieran's still small. I don't think I could handle him and a couple of newborns."
"Preference? Boy or girl?" Andrea asked, as she poured boiling water into a china tea pot.
"Not really. As long as it's healthy. Donnie really wants it to be a girl I think. He hasn't come right out and said it, but I'm pretty sure he'd love a daddy's girl. Personally, I wouldn't mind another boy."
"You're a brave woman," Andrea chuckled and carried the pot and two mugs to the table, setting them down before grabbing milk and sugar and bringing them to the table as well. "It's decaf," she assured the younger woman. "I drink regular this late at night and I'm bouncing off the walls."
Sam smiled her thanks and poured herself, and Andrea, a cup of steaming tea.
"So you met Donnie at work?" Andrea asked.
Sam nodded. "Outside of the crime lab. It was my first day. Well, it was more of a meet and greet everyone type of thing. I was sitting outside and Donnie and his best friend whose a colleague of ours were heading inside and they stopped to talk to me."
"Talk?" Andrea grinned. "Knowing Donnie flirt is more the appropriate term."
"There wasn't much of that going on. Not on his part anyway. But he was a nice guy. Holding the doors open and stuff like that. I won't deny that I was checking him out though. I mean, how can you not check him out? He's pretty hard to miss with those blue eyes."
"He's a very attractive young man. No denying that. So things happened quick between you?"
"Quicker than either of us expected it to. Our relationship…I don't know if you want to call it unconventional or odd or even just plain bizarre. But we got really serious really quick. We weren't together that long when I found out that I was having Kieran and we got engaged on the same day we took the pregnancy test. Let's just say things have never been normal."
"Who needs normal?" Andrea asked with a laugh.
"True…I just…I never came back to New York expecting to or wanting to fall in love with someone. That was pretty low on my list of priorities. But I'm glad it happened. That I met him that day. Because he came along when I needed someone the most. Even if I didn't realize it at the time. And our lives aren't perfect, but I love him and I love our son and I'm happy with things the way they are. Mind you, there are some days I could kill him."
"Join the club, sweetie. I've been threatening to do it to my husband for nearly twenty-seven years now. And four years before that. Gavin and I were high school sweethearts. Married shortly after high school."
"My mom was married young, too. To my real dad. She was eighteen. But she had me at sixteen."
"That's very young," Andrea said.
Sam nodded. "If I ever have a daughter, I won't even let her date until she's nineteen."
"I used to say the same thing. And Gavin vowed they would never go out with boys until they were close to twenty. They find ways. You were that age once. I'm sure you remember doing things like that."
Sam nodded and sipped her tea. "I dated this boy when I was fourteen. He lived a few doors down from us. He was Native American and my dad just despised him. More because Chester wasn't the kind to take shit from anyone and always stood up for me and my brother. Very assertive and aggressive when he needed to be but for the most part very calm and cool and soft spoken. We used to sneak around to see each other. He was a really nice guy. Once I moved to Arizona that was it. I never saw him again."
"Do you regret that? Would you have liked to see him again?"
"I was going to look him up once I came back," Sam admitted. "But I never got around to it. Because I'd met Don and things happened so fast with us and I never looked back. I still don't. I don't regret anything I've done in the past year and a half since I met him."
Andrea smiled. "Your little boy is adorable. He just sparkles. He's a lot like you in that respect. Looks like his dad but inside he's all you."
Sam beamed. "I like to think that. He's my baby. I can't describe how much I love him. It's nothing I've ever felt before. For either of them, really."
"I have to admit," Andrea said and took a swig of tea. "It was a little shocking to find out that night in Target that Donnie Flack was married and had a child. When him and Gav worked together, Donnie was into a lot of girls. There was never one in particular he saw for a long period of time. So I didn't think I'd ever see the day where he settled down and had a family."
"I don't think he did either," Sam said with a laugh. "I think it all pretty much jumped up and bit him in the ass. I'm sorry," she apologized sheepishly. "My mouth…sometimes I can't control it…the swears get out without me realizing it."
"Honey, I've been married to a cop for twenty-seven years. Ass is the tamest I've heard. It's hard, isn't it."
"What's that?" Sam asked.
"Being married to a cop. Worrying every time they step out the door that they won't come back in. Jumping out of your skin each time there's a knock on the door or the phone rings because you're terrified of that one phone call or that one visit."
Sam nodded. "Our circumstance is a little different with both of us being cops," she said. "But yeah…when he leaves for work I'm scared I might not see him again. Alive anyway. I've had a lot of sleepless nights I'll tell you that much. I don't know what I'd ever do if something happened to him. Seriously, I don't think I could cope. I've always prided myself on being so strong and independent. But if something happened to Don…honestly, I don't think I'd survive. Because he's everything in my life. My entire world outside of Kieran. I don't think I'd be able to deal with something happening to him."
"You would," Andrea assured her. "It's just a reality we accept when we agree to marry them. That the job is dangerous and anything could happen in the blink of an eye. It's why we hug them and kiss them and tell them we love them each time they step out the door. Because we just never know if we will get that chance again. And the last thing you want on your mind is the last memory of your husband being a negative one. Gavin and I used to have this thing that we'd never leave each other angry. Whether we were going to sleep for the night or he was on the way to work. We sucked it up if we were fighting and kissed at the door and said I love you. Just in case."
Sam smiled. "It's a good philosophy to live by. Donnie and I are both guilty of getting into nasty fights and not swallowing our pride and apologizing. Neither of us hate to admit we're wrong. I mean, we've gone days without speaking to one another and we work together and live in the same house. And that's not good. Because one day he will leave after we've been fighting and that's when something will happen to him. And I don't want the last thing I say to him is I hate you, I wish you would never come back. Because I've said it and…" her voice broke off and she put a hand to her forehead as she blinked back tears. "I'm sorry…I think I'm just hormonal."
"No," Andrea corrected gently. "You're just a wife whose madly in love with her husband."
Sam nodded. "I get emotional. When I talk about him and his job and things that could go wrong."
"It's okay. It's normal. I'd be worried if you didn't. And you haven't been married long. You're still getting used to the whole being a cop's wife thing. But trust me, hon, words can't be taken back. I know things get said out of anger. Mean, horrible things. But don't let him leave the house without telling him how you feel. If something does happen, you don't want to live the rest of your life regretting something you've said or done and wondering if he knew you didn't mean it. I've seen that happen to many cops wives after nine eleven. They'd been having a fight or never said goodbye when their husbands left that morning. And that haunts them to this day. And I don't want to see that happen to you, Samantha."
The younger woman nodded and sniffled noisily and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm sorry. I barely know you. I don't get like this with people I barely know. I barely get like this with my colleagues and friends any my family never mind virtual strangers."
Andrea reached out and squeezed the tiny brunettte's hand. "We all need someone sometime," she said. "I had a mentor of sorts when I first married Gavin. Betty Campbell. She was the wife of Gav's training officer. She was always there for me when I needed someone to lean on. Someone to rant and rave to and bitch to when my husband put the job before me. And I know Gavin isn't with the department anymore, but I wouldn't mind being there for you like Betty was for me. You know, someone to talk to that gets it. 'Cause you've got yourself a great guy there and he absolutely adores you. And I'd hate for anything to come between the two of you. If you'd let me, I'd like to be your go to girl for stuff like that."
Sam smiled and nodded. "I'd like that," she said.
Andrea returned the smiled and dipped a cookie into her tea. "I guess Donnie told you. About what went down with Gavin."
"He told me about what happened," Sam confirmed. "And I know it ate at him afterwards that he had to have any part in things. It still bothers him when he talks about it. He never wanted to be involved in it."
"It was his job," Andrea concluded. "And neither Gavin or I held that against him."
"I know. I told him that when he was telling me the whole story the first time around. But it didn't matter how much I told him not to feel guilty about or feel like he betrayed your husband. He needed to hear that from Gavin. And it did a lot for me when Gavin stopped by the precinct to see him and invited us over. I guess they talked and cleared things up and it helped Donnie get over what happened. Helped him deal with."
"He's a good man with a big heart under all the sarcasm and gruff exterior," Andrea mused.
"A lot of people don't get to see that. They just see what he's like on the job and think he's this mean, big, bad police man. And he's not. Outside of work he's loving and attentive and he's an amazing father and a great husband. He's not perfect and doesn't try to be. But neither am I and we accept that about each other."
"We wouldn't want our men perfect," Andrea said. "They'd be too damn boring."
Sam laughed. "True."
"I bet you wonder why I stuck around. After finding out my husband had a whole other secret life. Another child he'd been paying support to for years. One that he threw his entire career away for. Other women on the side for years. She wasn't the only one, you know. I know about all the others. Women he met on his beats that he couldn't resist helping," Andrea made air quotes around the world helping. "It started soon after we got married. He was spending more time at work than at home. It's no surprise they find themselves attracted to women they see every day at the precinct or out on the street when they see them more than their own wives."
Samantha didn't respond. She had her own personal views on men, and women, that cheated. And while she had told herself many times that if she ever found out her husband was fucking around on her behind her back she was packing his bags and kicking his ass out, the truth of the matter was that she didn't know if she could bust up her marriage. She just loved him too much to ever let him go. And with a child in the mix, it made splitting up even harder. She just hoped she'd never be faced with that situation, or decision.
"I wondered," Sam admitted. "But it's really none of my business. It's your marriage and your life. And you make the decisions that are the best for you. And your children."
Andrea nodded. "It's harder you know, to walk away when there's kids involved. You want them to have two parents. Not one and another one that visits every second weekend. You want that stability and a nice place to live and not have to worry about making ends meet. So you stay for their sake. And you put up with whatever crap comes your way. And when you love someone that much…well you'll tolerate just about anything."
Sam just sipped her tea.
"Would you be able to just walk away?" Andrea asked. "If it was Donnie. If you found out he'd done something like that?"
Sam sighed and shook her head. "Probably not. As foolish as it makes me to admit that."
"There's nothing foolish about it. A mother will go to the ends of the earth to protect their children."
"I don't know about that," Sam snorted. "I mean, I know I'd do anything for Kieran. But my mother…she did nothing for my brother and I other than cause us a whole lot of grief. And she still torments us to this day. It's why I am the way I am with Kieran. He's not going to know that kind of life. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure he never experiences that."
"Which is exactly why I stuck around," Andrea concluded. "I hope you never have to go through what I did. I don't wish it on anyone. But as much as I love Donnie and I know he adores you and his son, I'm just warning you to not be surprised if somewhere down the road, he happens to loose his way a bit. It just seems to be the nature of the job. It's like the majority can't help it. That it comes with the territory. But I'll be praying that it never happens to you."
"Yeah…well I'd probably kill him if he does," Sam said, only half joking. "I don't know if I'd ever forgive him."
"You probably wouldn't. I never forgave Gavin. But I dealt with it and so would you. For your son."
Sam sighed and stared into the remains of her mug. She wanted to tell the woman that her husband would never be that low down and dirty to do something like that. That he'd have the deceny to at least end things before moving onto something and someone else.
"But who knows what's going to happen in your life," Andrea said. "You may be one of the lucky ones that have a husband who'd never do that."
I sure as hell hope so, Sam thought.
Flack and Gavin Moran relaxed with some drinks in the den while their wives busied themselves in the kitchen. Busying themselves was really a code word for gossiping about anything and everything under the sun and comparing tales about stupid things their husbands had said or done in the course of their marriages. Andrea had an encyclopedia of things to share. And even more words of advice and wisdom that Moran knew his wife would be unable to resist offering up.
The Knicks and the Celtics game was on playing on the plasma tv mounted on the wall across the room. Flack sipped black coffee as he sat on one of the leather couches, Moran, a scotch on the rocks on the table beside the easy chair he was sprawled in, had a sleeping Kieran, thumb shoved in his mouth in all, tucked protectively under his arm. Kieran had taken to him easily and comfortably. The minute the baby had been handed his last sippy cup of milk and had his diaper changed, he'd climbed up beside his new found friend, snuggled into him and had made it his new home.
"How's your folks feel about having a little grandson wandering around?" Moran asked.
"They love it," Flack replied. "My folks watch Kieran when he's not at day care and we need to work. Only spot we could get in day care was part time so my mom offered to take him the other days. And she comes on short notice if Sam gets called in on her day off and I'm already working. They love having him around. Keeps them young my mom says. Really helps us out that they're so ready, willing and able."
"And your old man? What's he like as a grandpa?"
"Amazing. Which is surprising considering what a shit ass father he was."
"Trying to make amends," Moran concluded. "He's an old man now, Donnie. Time to let the past be just that."
Flack nodded.
Moran smiled down at the sleeping toddler and ran a hand softly over Kieran's hair. "He's beautiful, Donnie. You've got yourself a great little family. Adorable little boy, lovely wife. Another baby on the way. Don't go messing that up, okay?"
"I won't," he vowed. "It's why we go to therapy."
Moran's eyes widened. "You? Therapy?"
"Shocking, huh? Did you ever think you'd see the day? We started going while she was pregnant with Kieran. We had some issues that we needed to straighten out before things exploded into a massive mess. And we're still going. Twice a month. Keeps us sane and prevents us from strangling each other some days."
"Whatever helps you cope. That's my theory. No marriage is perfect. Some need more work than others. Doesn't make it a bad thing."
"We bust our asses to keep things together sometimes," Flack admitted. "But it's worth it. I wouldn't be sticking around if it wasn't."
"Just don't be going and doing anything stupid," Moran advised. "Don't be meeting no woman at the precinct or the lab or in any other department. Keep your nose clean and your dick in your pants and it's all good. Avoid temptation at all costs."
"You handing out advice now, Gav?" Flack grinned. "Passing along some of your pearls of wisdom?"
"Just speaking the truth. Don't screw things up like I did."
"Doesn't look like things turned out that bad in the end," Flack said. "You saved face within the department, you and your wife are still together."
Moran snorted. "Together…if that's what you want to call it. We're nothing more than roommates these days. You know we haven't slept in the same room let alone the same bed since the whole shit went down?"
Flack shook his head.
"My wife is practically a stranger to me these days. We co-exist at best. And I love that woman more than life itself."
"You tell her that, Gav? How you feel?"
"I've been telling her that every day and begging for forgiveness since the day it happened. She'll never forgive me completely. Or forget."
"Time heals everything," Flack reasoned. "Eventually that will happen in your case."
Moran sighed and reached for his drink and took a swig. "I only have myself to blame, Donnie. So take advice from an old man like me. Don't make the same mistakes I did. You've got something great with your wife. Don't wreck it. 'Cause you will regret it and live the rest of your life a lonely, bitter man. And you'll never, ever forgive yourself. You hear me? Look at me and tell me you hear me."
Flack looked over at his mentor. His second father. Saw the seriousness and intensity in Moran's eyes. "I hear you," he said. "And trust me, I'm not going to do anything to ever cost me my family."
"Good," Moran said and looked away from the younger man and swallowed the remains of his drink. "Because I'm going to hold you do that. And I'll haunt you if you so as much make one small little fuck up."
Flack didn't doubt it for a second.
The clock on the dining room wall read quarter after two in the morning. Sam only knew that because she'd been using the small flashlight she kept nearby at all times to check the time every ten minutes. The flashlight was a habit she'd held onto since Kieran was a baby. She'd been so paranoid about crib death that Flack had tried to curb her fears by having the baby sleep in the bassinet at the side of the bed, and had given her his flashlight that he normally used for work so that she could routinely check on Kieran and not wake the baby, or Flack himself, up.
She still kept that light with her every night. And while the rest of the apartment was in darkness and deep in slumber, she had been tossing and turning for the past two and half hours. She couldn't get the words Andrea Moran had spoken out of her head. They re-played over and over again in her mind and drove her crazy. And it didn't help that the pull out couch was quite possibly the most aggravating, uncomfortable thing to sleep on in the entire world.
She just couldn't take it anymore. She just couldn't take the overwhelming feelings surging through her. The feelings that she had to say something. To get so many things off of her chest now in case tomorrow was too late.
She rolled over onto her left hand side. Her husband was fast asleep on his side facing her. And as much as she hated what she was about to do, she couldn't help herself.
"Don," she reached out and laid her hand on his shoulder and shook him. "Don…wake up!"
He didn't respond. He simply pushed her hand away from him and kept sleeping.
"Don't be like that," she scolded. And shook him more vigorously. "Don!" her voice was a harsh, urgent whisper. "Don! Wake up! I need you to wake up!"
"Samantha…go away…" he mumbled. "Leave me alone."
"I need you to wake up!" she insisted.
"And I need you to be quiet and go back to sleep."
"I haven't been sleeping," she told him. "At all. That's the problem."
"Well than go and take one of those Ambien things and knock yourself out for about eight hours. Why do you have to harass me and wake me up from a perfectly good sleep because you've got insomnia? Do I really need to suffer alongside of you?"
"Don't be so fucking mean," she said. "And I can't take those because of the baby."
"Than go and make yourself some warm milk. Drink it, come back in here and lie down and count goddamn sheep."
"I need to talk to you," she told him.
"About what? What is so important that you need to talk to me about at…what time is it anyway?
"Quarter after two."
"You're nuts, woman. There's something wrong with you. Why is it you always feel the urge to discuss things with me in the middle of the night?"
"Because we're always so busy during the day that I don't get a chance to talk to you any other time."
He sighed heavily and rolled over onto his back and draped an arm over his eyes. "This better be damn good, Samantha. 'Cause if you woke me up to tell me about some damn stupid dream, you'll be finding yourself sleeping alone."
"It's not about a dream," she promised. "It's about something important."
"It better be. And make it quick. I have to be up in four hours."
"You're so damn bitchy when you first wake up," she grumbled.
"Samantha…come on…out with it so we both can get some sleep."
"I just wanted to tell you that I love you," she said.
He gave a small laugh and removed his arm and looked at her. "You woke me up at quarter after two in the morning to tell me that? That couldn't have waited?"
She shook her head and sat up. "I needed to tell you now so that in case you left without waking me up to say bye that I wouldn't regret not telling you if something terrible happened to you at work."
He stared at her. "Excuse me?"
"I needed to tell you that in case you walked out the door and never walked back in," she said, and promptly burst into tears.
"Samantha," he sighed heavily and sat up as well, wiping sleep from his eyes with his hands before reaching out for her.
His hand fell on her shoulder and he gently pulled her into him. She circled his neck with her arms and continued to cry into his shoulder.
"Baby, what's wrong?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her slender body. One hand on the back of her head, the other on the small of her back. "Why are you being like this? Did you have a bad dream or something?"
She shook her head.
"You're not usually like this. Something must have bothered you or you wouldn't be waking me up at this time of the night and telling me these things and than crying. Are you sure you didn't have a bad dream? Maybe you just don't remember it?"
"No…it wasn't a dream," she said. "It was Andrea."
"Andrea?"
"Something she said. A lot she said. And it made me realize that I haven't always been the nicest, most loving wife in the world to you."
"What? What are you talking about?"
"I say things to you when I'm angry. Mean things. Things I don't mean!"
"We both do that. So why….?"
"I don't mean them," she insisted, ignoring him. "I really don't. Last week we got into a fight right before you left for work and I told you I hated you and hoped you never came back!"
"Jesus, Sammie…that was a week ago. I'd all but forgotten about that."
"But I didn't!" she sobbed. "And I didn't mean to say it and what would have happened if something happened to you and I never got to take it back?"
"Well nothing happened to me and you and I kissed and made up and that was that. Why are you letting it bother you now?"
"Because it was a horrible thing to say! Because I didn't mean it and I love you and I don't want you going anywhere."
"I'm not going anywhere. You know that."
"You can't promise me that," she argued. "You can't promise me that you're not going to be out doing a raid or going after someone and something bad won't happen to you."
"No.I can't but…"
"See what I mean!" she broke down into tears again. "That's why I never should have said it!"
"Shhh…just relax…you're tired and probably a little hormonal…just relax and stop worrying about stuff like that."
"I don't hate you," she sniffled against his shoulder. "I don't…."
"I know that. You don't need to tell me that, baby."
"Yes, I do. I do need to tell you. I need you to know that I love you and I appreciate everything you do. I don't say it or show it enough and I need you to know it."
"I do," he assured, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "I do know that. Just calm down, okay?"
"I don't want my last memory of you being some fight we had and something bad I said."
"You know what?" he pulled back from her and took her teary face in his hands. "Look at me…I don't want you talking like this. Okay? This isn't you talking. I don't know where you got this stuff from, but this isn't you. I plan on being around for a long, long time and I need you to just calm down and stop thinking things like that."
"But I…."
"Samantha…please…listen to me. Stop talking like that and relax. I need you to take it easy. You're not doing yourself, or our baby, any good by getting like this. You know that. Now are you going to stop and calm down?"
She nodded and sniffled.
"Good," he said and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. "I know you don't mean the things you say. Just like I don't mean the things I say when I'm upset. And I know that you love me. You don't need to feel guilty about things you've said out of anger. Alright?"
"Alright," she said.
He kissed her. Longer this time, but equally as soft. "I'll be back," he said, and let her go and climbed off the pull out and headed for the kitchen in his boxers.
"You really should put some pyjama pants on in case my mom or dad come out," she said.
"Fuck your mom and dad," came the response as the kitchen light flicked on.
She wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her pyjama top. She could her him bustling about in the kitchen. The creaking of a cupboard door and the soft clink of a glass as he removed it from the shelf and it caught another on the way out. Than the fridge door being pulled open and than shut again after thirty seconds. Followed by the microwave being opened, closed and turned on.
"Here," Flack said moments later, as he appeared at the side of the bed with a glass of warm milk in his hand. "Drink it."
"Thank you," she said and took the milk. Than she frowned and bent her head down to the glass and sniffed it.
"Milk's not sour," he assured her, slipping back into bed. "I just bought it this morning."
"I know," she said, and sniffed it again.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Checking to see if you put anything in it," she replied.
He couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah…that's what I did…I crushed up some of you tranqs and dropped them in there and stirred them around so you'd be out for a couple days and I can get some goddamn peace and quiet aroud here."
She frowned. "You didn't really, did you?"
"I'm not in the business of drugging women," he told her. "Especially not my pregnant wife. So do me a favour and drink the damn milk."
"I just want to know if…"
"Samantha, there is nothing in there. I promise you that I did not drug it."
She sighed and took a small cautious sip.
"Jesus Christ," he grumbled and flopped down on his back. "This place is a fucking nut house. I would not drug you. I simply got you a glass of warm milk to calm you down. It usually helps you sleep. I am not trying to kill you, I swear."
She took a larger sip of her drink. "Thank you," she said appreciatively.
"You're welcome," he said, and reached out to lay a hand on her thigh. "You okay now?"
"I think so."
She sat in silence as she quickly finished the milk and he rested beside her. His eyes closed.
She reached over to set the glass on the end table beside the couch. "Are you asleep?" she asked, as she lay back down on her side and snuggled up to him, laying her head on his chest.
"Not yet," he replied. "And you know what? I love you, too. And for the record, I don't mean the things I say either. And I know I can be a real mean, spiteful and hurtful bastard."
She didn't respond. She simply pressed a kiss to the underside of his chin and wrapped an arm around him.
He kissed the top of her head and put his arm around her slender body, his hand resting on her back.
Neither of them spoke the rest of the night. They lay there, listening to the beating of each other's hearts and feeling each other breathe. Their eyes closed. Yet very much awake.
Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing. I appreciate each and every one of you! Even the lurkers! And I know there's lots of you! So please R and R folks. Just takes a few minutes, if that, to drop a line!
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