DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN….BLAH BLAH BLAH. YOU ALL KNOW THE DRILL.
A/N: Okay, so for the most part, this chapter is somewhat DL and Danny centric. Which I am extremely nervous about because as you all know, DL is not my usual shtick. But I thought I'd give it try. So I'd like to give my very good friend, Laurzz, much love and thanks for giving me the support, and courage, to try my hand at this stuff.
And I wasn't going to post this soon, but I just couldn't wait. So enjoy!
Two couples, one silver lining
"Under an old brass paperweight
is my list of things to do today
Go to the bank and the hardware store,
put a new lock on the cellar door
I cross 'em off as I get 'em done but when the sun is set
There's still more than a few things left
I haven't got to yet
Go for a walk, say a little prayer
Take a deep breath of mountain air
Put on my glove and play some catch
It's time that I make time for that
Wade the shore and cast a line
Look up a long lost friend of mine
Sit on the porch and give my girl a kiss
Start livin', that's the next thing on my list
Wouldn't change the course of fate
but cuttin' the grass just had to wait
'Cause I've got more important things
like pushin' my kid on the backyard swing
I won't break my back for a million bucks I can't take to my grave
So why put off for tomorrow what I could get done today."
-My List, Toby Keith
The sun was just beginning to rise. A brilliant display of shades of orange and pink glowing on the horizon. It was a cooler morning than those recently. Over night the temperatures had dipped into the high fifties and now hovered in the low to mid sixties. A soft dew lined the grass and sparkled in the rays of sun and a gentle, crisp breeze danced through the treetops.
Samantha woke to an empty bed. An empty floor, really. Because after over an hour of attempting sleep in a bed that was way too crowded for someone Flack's size let alone him and a second person, they just moved all the pillows and blankets to the floor at the side of the bed closest to the open window and settled down there. Hardwood didn't make the most comfortable mattress in the world, but after some grumbling and complaining on both of their parts, she'd finally just snuggled up to her husband with her arm over his chest and her leg over his thighs and her nose tucked into the side of his neck and promptly fallen asleep.
She was emotionally drained. The passing of her father in law after such a lengthy illness, although a blessed and welcome relief for both him and those that had watched him wither away and become nothing more than a shadow of himself, had wiped her out. It had brought back non to welcome memories of the others that she had loved, and lost, throughout her life. The work related death of Chester Lake. Watching Sid suffer with, and eventually succumb to, cancer. Sarge dying so unexpectedly. All three were grouped together in her mind and not a day went by where she wasn't sitting alone, at a down time of the afternoon or at night lying in bed when she had time to think, that they didn't cross her mind.
And now her father in law to add to the list. Their relationship, which had started out awkward and strained, had grown over the years into one of mutual love and respect. He would often tell her that she was the best thing that had ever happened to his first born son. His namesake. That Donnie Jr had become a man the day he had married her. That she had taken him and turned him into the husband and father that Don Senior knew his son was capable of. Sam always begged off the compliments and told him that it was his son who had changed himself. She had nothing to do with. And the old man would laugh and wave off her modesty and tell her that she better keep that boy of his line and not let him go wandering off and getting himself into a mess. Or he'd have his father to answer to.
Now his father was gone. And although Sam admired her husband for the way he handled himself with such poise and strength, for being the stead fast pillar of support for those around him, she also knew that it was going to catch up to him. The reality of the situation would come crashing down on him when he least expected it. And she was going to be the one that was there for him. His comfort and his strength just as he'd been hers for almost sixteen years now. After all the heart ache and the struggles and all the tears and pain, he had always been there. Giving a lot and expecting so little. And now it was her time, her chance, to show how grateful and appreciative she was for all that he'd ever done, and all that he'd ever given her.
When she found the bedroom empty, she'd managed to pull her aching bones up off of the floor with a lot of moaning and groaning and creaking and cracking, and grabbed the soft pink velour hoodie that she had snatched from her hall closet and yanked on as she hurried out the door the night before. It was one of Reghan's favourite items of clothing, but it was the first thing Samantha had seen when she opened the closet door in the front foyer and she hoped her daughter wasn't going to miss it too much. The surprising thing was that it actually fit. At thirteen, almost fourteen, Reghan was already three inches taller than her mother.
She headed from the bedroom and padded softly down the hallway. She paused outside of her mother in law's door, her hand on the knob as she listened for any movement or noise coming from inside. She waited for a minute and heard nothing and than retreated, heading down the creaky stairs and into the living room and through to the kitchen where she could smell coffee. The room was empty, but the door that led out onto the back porch was open slightly, allowing the cool morning air to seep into the house.
Yawning loudly, she snagged a mug from the cupboard above the sink and poured herself some coffee from the still steaming pot and headed outside.
Flack glanced over his shoulder at the sound of the back door squeaking open. Smiling softly at his wife as she stepped outside in her bare feet and their daughter's sweater over the hideous night dress she'd borrowed from his mother.
"Good morning," she greeted in a soft voice, as he held out a hand to take the mug of coffee from her so she could sit down beside him. She pressed a kiss to his rough, unshaven cheek and nuzzled the spot below his ear with her nose before taking the coffee back from him.
"Good morning. You don't usually drink my coffee. That's my poison."
"I was too lazy to fill the kettle and wait for it to boil for a tea," she said, sipping the strong brew. "How long have you been up for?" she asked.
He sighed. "I never slept. I just lied awake all night listening to you talk away in your sleep about everything under the sun. Than my back and my knees really started killing me so I just got up and I watched some t.v. for a bit and when the sun started coming up, I made some coffee and here I am."
"You really need to get some sleep," she said gently, rubbing his back softly. "We've got a long day ahead of us. A long few days probably."
"I'll sleep when I'm tired," he told her.
She didn't have the heart to tell him that he looked, and sounded, exhausted and that the time for sleep was obviously now. Instead she rested her head against his shoulder and curled her arm around his bicep and they sat and watched the remainder of the sunrise.
He glanced at what she was wearing. "Isn't that Reggie's sweater?"
Sam nodded.
"Shes going to kick your ass for taking her favourite sweater. I can't believe it fits you."
"She's got your height, Donnie. And just think, I have just proved what you have always teased me about. I can fit in stuff for a thirteen year old."
He grinned and pecked her cheek. "You've always been my Tinks," he teased and she smiled.
"I figure I'll go home sometime this afternoon and talk to the kids," Sam said. "Unless you wanted to tell them yourself."
"That's fine. You can tell them. You're better at that kind of thing than I am. You always know what to say to them. I handle things like I'm delivering news to a vic's family. I'll stay here with my mom and help her start planning things. Not that I know what the hell goes into that type of thing."
"Well I'll grab some clothes for us and personal stuff while I'm home and we can go over things when I get back here. Lindsay already said that she and Danny can stay with the kids as long as we need them to. And Carmen left a message on your phone that she was sorry and Speed gave her the go ahead to stay at our house and help Linds and Danny out. She said she's going to pop Alessa on home after Kieran's hockey game. I said it was okay if she spent the weekend as long as she cleared it with her parents. Because seriously, that's like nine kids in one house and there is no way Danny and Lindsay could have their sanity intact at the end of that."
"Think the kids will be okay? Without one of us there?"
"Are you kidding? They'll probably be on their best behaviour. And we have four teenagers that would love nothing more than be away from mommy and daddy for a while. Well, maybe not Kieran. He really wants to be here for you. You know that, right?"
Flack nodded.
"He's growing up so quickly, Donnie. When I look at him…I don't know when I look at him I can't believe that fifteen years has gone by so quickly. I remember how scared we were after he was born and he got so sick and how happy we were to finally bring him home. And that trip we took, to Far Rockaway beach? Do you remember that? He was seven months old and you took that picture of me and him in the water? Do you remember?"
"I remember that he loved the water," he said. "And that he was practically a fish after that. That kid would live in the water, I think."
"Remember his first birthday?" she laughed. "When he had cake from one end of the kitchen to the other? Up his nose and in his ears and every where else in between. Took me damn near two hours to scrub it off of him in the tub."
"I remember Danny wearing that stupid In the Night Garden party hat off to the side of his head and him and Kieran sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor making a hideous mess out of pizza and ice cream and cake and Danny saying, the things I don't do for you kid."
"Danny enjoyed every minute of it," Sam declared. "He was into the party more than anyone else. That was fun, wasn't it? It was silly and stupid for the most part but it was a lot of fun."
He nodded. "I was just so relieved that when you brought that cake out for me, it wasn't Hello Kitty."
She giggled and kissed the side of his neck. "You really didn't think that I'd do that to you in front of your friends, did you?"
"Sammie, if there's one thing I've learned about you, it's expect anything."
"Your life would be so boring without me, Donnie. You'd be miserable and lonely."
"That I would," he agreed, and pulling his arm out of her grasp, wrapped it around her and pulled her tight against his side, his hand resting on her hip.
"Dean Lessing," she said quietly.
"What about him?" Flack asked.
"I was thinking about him taking Kieran. And now scared I was that I'd never see him again. And how I've never forgiven myself for what happened."
"It wasn't your fault, Sammie. You know that. You just made a mistake. And innocent mistake. How many times had you left Kieran sleeping in the apartment while you ran downstairs with a load of laundry? Tons of times. How were you supposed to know that that one time someone was just waiting for the chance to snag him?"
"I never should have left him. And if something had have happened to him…"
"Well it didn't," Flack told her. "And we're lucky that Lessing wasn't out to hurt him. That he was just using him to send a message. Or whatever bullshit it was that he was spewing in the end. Because he thought of all people that would understand his methods and his plans it would be me. What did he call me and him? Comrades in arms?"
Sam nodded.
"Guy blows me up and he thinks that I'm one of his men? That I'd understand why he was as fucked up as he was? That of all people who would get it would be me? Only thing I got was that he was seriously disturbed and needed to be locked up for a very long time. Which is thankfully what happened to him."
"After you nearly kill him," Sam said.
"I should have. To this day I wish I hadn't have stopped when Danny and Speed pulled me off of him."
"And than you know what would have happened?" Sam asked. "Than Kieran and I would have lost you because you would have been in jail for the rest of your life. You did the right thing, Donnie. You walked away in the end. Kieran was safe and that's all that mattered. And now look at him.."
"Kid's huge," Flack said. "Never thought he'd be that big at fifteen. I don't even think I was that big at fifteen. I think I was seventeen and hit a growth spurt and went from five eight to six two in six months. He's already what, six one?"
"And a half," Sam said. "And he weighs a hundred and ninety five pounds."
"Jesus Christ, woman. What was in that breast milk you were feeding him when he was a baby? Human growth hormones or something? He's going to hit eighteen and be six seven and two fifty if he keeps going like it is. He's just going to be crushing people in the NHL."
"And if that isn't what he wants to do? Or if he doesn't get that far? I mean, there's a lot of kids with talent that never get there."
"So he plays in college and than gets an awesome job in whatever he's studying."
"Donnie, you know that.."
"Don't say it, Sammie. Please don't say it. Because yeah, I do know he probably won't get there. That he has other plans and there's probably not a damn thing I can do to change his mind. And if that's what he wants, to be a cop, than…I don't know…" Flack shrugged.
"He just wants to make you proud, Donnie. And he thinks that by becoming a cop, by following in your footsteps and his grandfather's footsteps…"
"It shouldn't be about wanting me to proud of him. It should be about him becoming a cop because he wants to be one, " Flack argued. "I made that mistake. I thought me becoming a cop would make my ild man proud of me. It's why I did it. And sometimes, as much as I love my job and how far I've come, I seriously wish I'd done something different."
"Maybe you should be telling Kieran all of this. Because he thinks the only way you'll be proud of him is being just like you."
"I'm proud of him each and every day for something he does. For getting a decent grade on a test or seeing how he is with Declan or when I think about how he could be out doing drugs and stealing cars and whatever else crazy shit he could be doing. Because he's a damn good kid."
"Because we raised him that way," she said. "Because once we were able to realize that all of our fighting and the hate we spewed at each other while he was around was only hurting him, we were able to be a team and a proper husband and wife and raise him the right way. And we've never had easy times, Donnie. But we've always got through them and we were always stronger for them. You see that, don't you? How strong all of that made our relationship? Our marriage? Our love? You must see that."
"I do. Every day I think about that. About all the shit we survived. All the times we nearly tore everything apart yet here we are. Almost sixteen years later. It's surreal. Sometimes I just sit back and think about things. We've been married fifteen years, Sammie. We have six kids. We want more. I mean, is that not just crazy when you think about it?"
"I want more," she corrected him. "You're going to do all the research, remember?"
"I don't need to do any research. If that's what you want, Sammie…"
"I want you to want it too," she said. "Because you're just as much responsible for a new baby as I am."
He sighed heavily. "It's a huge responsibility," he said. "We're not in our thirties anymore. We're well into our forties, Sam. You're almost fifty."
"I've got two years and a month until I hit fifty, I'll have you know."
"Old for having kids. Both of us are pretty old to be taking care of a baby. And the chances, of having another one with Downs…"
"We'll get all the testing done and take care of things if it turns out that way," she said.
"So if we do this where do we go first? We see one of them fertility people or what?"
"I guess we'd talk to the family doctor first and she'd make a referral for us. I mean, we could try the old fashioned way for a few months and see what happens."
"Why don't we try the old fashioned way and see a specialist? Kill two birds with one stone so to speak?"
She smiled and laid her hand on the back of his neck and kissed his cheek softly. "You have a beautiful mind, you know that?"
"There's occasionally a method to my madness," he said with a chuckle. "You know, we did pretty good with all of our kids. They don't get themselves into much trouble. As far as we know they're not skipping school and hanging out with the wrong crowds. Older ones are a little mouthy and break curfew once in a while but nothing that's too get too excited about. Declan's come leaps and bounds and did better than I think either of us expected him to when we found out about his diagnosis. I think we both saw nothing but doom and gloom at first."
Sam nodded in agreement.
"Mikayla's doing well in school and she's happy save for these boy problems no eleven year old should be having. And Liam…well, Liam the Demon is a story all in himself. Go figure the only one that looks just like you also acts just like you."
"And what's that suppose to mean?" she laughed, tousling his hair. "That I'm a bad ass, hell raiser?"
He nodded. "Pretty much."
"If that isn't the pot calling the kettle black."
"Smallest one causes the most problems," Flack reasoned, and pressed a kiss to her temple. "But we did good," he said. "And we'll do good with another baby, too. I might be a little rusty after seven years, but I'll pick it up with some practice."
"Are you referring to the actual caring for the baby or the baby making?" she teased.
"Okay, smart ass," he laughed and lightly pinched her hip. "You usually don't complain about my baby making techniques at the time. Why you always gotta make fun of me and ride my ass about it afterwards?"
"Because it's fun," she reasoned. "I like teasing you and getting you all hot and bothered."
"You always have," he said, and yawned noisily.
"You really should get some sleep, Donnie," she suggested gently. "I don't want you burning yourself out and making yourself sick. You won't be any good to your mom if you do that."
"I know," he said with a sigh. "But for once…for once I don't want to be the one doing things for other people. The one that's always there picking up the pieces and taking care of everyone and everything. Maybe for once I'd like someone to do all of that for me. 'Cause it's tiring, Sammie. Being that one person everyone relies on. It's so goddamn tiring, baby."
"I know," she said, and ran her fingers through the hair at the back of his head affectionately.
"In a way it's good. That he's gone. Because watching my mom go through what she's been going through, back and forth to the home every day and caring for him despite the fact all he did from the moment he met her was treat her like complete shit. How do you love someone like that? Does that make any sense to you? To love someone that beat on you and beat on your kids constantly? Does that makes sense?"
Sam shook her head.
"She loved him still after all of that and I don't get it. Why would she stay? Why didn't she just leave him after me and Chris were out of the house? There was nothing holding her back one we were gone. No kids to worry about. Yet she still stayed. Why? So she wouldn't lose her lifestyle? What lifestyle? Does this look like Camelot to you?"
"People have their reasons, Donnie. Your mom must have reasons of her own."
"Was I that bad, Sammie? Was I? To you and our kids? Am I that bad? Am I like him?"
"Of course not. You're nothing like him."
"I mean, I know we've had our problems and things haven't always been easy. But am I that bad?"
"No. You're not bad at all. You know that. And your dad…your dad made his peace with himself and with the people in his life before he became ill and you need to let go of this anger and bitterness that you have inside for him. I know you loved him. Despite everything the two of you had been through. And it's time that you just put that all behind you."
"I'm just so angry, Samantha. At him. For the way he treated my mom. For the way he treated my brother and me. For the way he treated you and Kieran without even giving either of you a chance."
"That's a long time ago, Don. You need to let that go. Okay? Because it's been eating away at you all the years and that's not good baby. And you know that's not good."
"I just wanted him to say he was sorry. Just once. Just once I wanted him to look me in the eye and tell me that he was sorry for the things he did and the things he said about you and the baby. That's all I wanted. And he could never give me that for some reason. And now I'll never get that out of him. And that's what hurts. It doesn't kill me inside that he's dead. Because he was sick and it's best that he did go when he did. What kills me is that I still had so many things to say and so many questions to ask and I'll never get that chance."
She sighed and stroked his hair. "It's okay to feel sad, Don. It doesn't mean you're weak because you feel sad about your father."
"I don't feel sad about him. That's not what I feel sad about."
"Okay…so what is it that you feel sad about?" she asked softly.
"The way I've been over the years. With you. There's been times I was a mean, nasty, condescending bastard to you. And you didn't deserve that and I didn't deserve you sticking around."
"I stuck around because I love you," she said.
"I just.." his voice cracked with emotion and the tears that he'd been holding back for so long finally caught up to him. "I'm sorry, Samantha. For every shitty, god awful thing I ever did or said to you. Because I love you and maybe I don't tell you as often as I should. Or show you as much as I should. But I love you and there's so much that I regret between me and you. That I wish I could take back."
"It's okay, Don," she said, and laying her hand on the top of his head, drew his face down to her shoulder. She wrapped her arm around his waist and with her free hand, grabbed a hold of his that rested on her hip and entwined her fingers tightly with his.
"It's not okay," he sobbed. "It's not. It's never been okay."
"Yes," she assured her, rocking back and forth as she held him fiercely. "It is okay. Just like it's okay for you to be feeling like this."
"I just want the pain to go away. All the pain and all the regret. All the mistakes I've made. Make it go away, Sammie."
She pressed a kiss to the top of her head and felt his hot tears on the side of her neck.
"I'll try," she promised.
Danny Messer was in complete and utter awe of his best friend.
It wasn't that fact that Flack's house was bigger - much, much bigger, in fact- or that he drove a better car - much, much, better, actually- or the fact he had a swimming pool in his back yard and all the toys a guy could possibly want and more. It had nothing to do with material possessions. It had to do with the fact that this man had six kids and still managed to keep his sanity.
The morning had started with Danny Jr, accompanied by Liam, bounding into the master bedroom where Danny and Lindsay had been sleeping peacefully, and pouncing on the bed and proceeding to jump up and down on it while screaming wake up over and over again. And of course, Liam, the apple of his Aunt Linds' eye, was shrieking in sheer happiness and glee that his Auntie Montanie had come to live with him for a little while. She hadn't had the heart to tell him that she was only there for a couple of days. Instead, after bestowing kisses and hugs on her own son, gathered Liam into her arms and tickled him until he howled with laughter and warned, around his hiccups and tears streaming down his face, that he was going to pee his pants.
It had been chaos since the second Danny had opened his eyes. All those kids to get washed up and dressed. Thankfully the older ones could do it themselves and then could help the littler ones out. Except for the fact that now that his Auntie Montanie was around, Liam didn't want anyone helping him but her. And Declan didn't want anyone checking up on him and making sure he'd done things right unless it was Kieran or his father. By the time everyone was showered, dressed and downstairs, Danny was ready for a nervous break down. All the noise. It was nearly deafening. All the bickering between the two oldest Flack girls and the fighting between Liam and Mikayla over the fact Liam was in her room when he was strictly forbidden from it and Declan and Kieran arguing over the fact Declan wanted to wear a red t-shirt with green cargo pants and Kieran was insisting it didn't match and his brother would look like a damn Christmas tree.
The Flack kids made the Messer kids look like damn angels. And Danny was the first to admit that his kids were nothing but sweet and innocent.
"This is just damn insane," Danny grumbled, as he stood beside his wife at the kitchen counter while she buttered an entire loaf of bread that she'd just finally finished toasting. Earlier, Danny had brought the plastic patio table and chairs in from the deck so there'd be enough sitting room for all them damn kids.
In the toaster oven were strawberry pop tarts with white icing on the top. On the stove, pancakes and sausage sizzled noisily while scrambled eggs on another burner were being kept warm on minimum heat.
The kids couldn't just be happy with toast and bowls of cereal and glasses of juice. And they couldn't be satisfied with just one meal prepared for everyone. Hell no. The moment Lindsay had strode into the kitchen with Liam practically hanging off of her legs, she'd been greeted with a menu of the different things every one wanted. And while Danny bitched and moaned about it, she just shrugged her shoulders and gave that little smile of hers and set to work. She didn't lose her patience or get frazzled. She didn't mess a damn hair on her head or lose the bounce in her step or one ounce of her bubbly personality.
"What is?" Lindsay asked, as she licked some stray butter off of her finger.
"All this chaos," her husband replied. "All this noise and craziness. Six kids, Montana! They have six kids!"
"That just means that they're both apparently really fertile," she reasoned. "And there was triplets in there, Danny. Four pregnancies and six children. If the three had have just been one, than technically there'd only be four Flack kids."
"But there wasn't just one, Linds. There was three. At one time! Bringing their total to four. They couldn't have just stopped there? They had to go for six? Half of twelve? Or are they actually trying for a baker's dozen or something?"
"What Sam and Flack do, pro-creation wise, is their business," she said, and carried the toast to the table before returning to check on the other food.
"It's not normal, Montana. You can't tell me it is. It is not normal to have that many kids this day in age when birth control is so readily available and idiot proof."
"They wanted a big family, Danny," she reminded him, as she used a fork to turn the sausage. "If they had wanted to stop, they would have. And if they want to have seven or even eight, than that's their decision to make."
"Well thank God that can't happen or I'm committing Flack myself," Danny declared as he leaned against the pantry cupboard beside the stove. "What's that little grin for?" he asked his wife.
"What little grin?" Lindsay asked innocently.
"That little grin you get when you know something I don't. When you've got a juicy piece of info you're dying to share but won't and you make me work my ass off trying to find out what it is. Don't stand there and say that you don't know what grin I'm talking about."
Lindsay reached out and snagged a piece of scrambled egg and popped it into her mouth and grinned at her husband.
"There it is again!" Danny exclaimed. "You've used it twice in two minutes! Must be something really good for that to happen."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said and moved over to the toaster oven.
"Montana…come on," Danny followed her. "You're holding out on me here. You've got something you're just itching to tell me."
"Can you get me down a little plate please? One of the plastic ones?" she asked, pointing the the cupboards near the sink.
Danny huffed with impatience and did as he was asked.
"Put these in the freezer," she instructed, dropping the Pop Tarts on the plate. "These are for Liam and Danny Jr. Two for Liam, one for DJ. They need to be cooled down before they can eat them."
"You gonna tell me what's going on or what?" Danny asked, as he walked over to the fridge and sat the plate in the freezer.
"Or what," she replied. "All you need to know is that Samantha and I had a little talk a couple of mornings ago when I stopped in for tea before picking DJ up at daycare."
"And what was this talk about?" he inquired.
"None of your business," Lindsay said, as she prepared plates of eggs and sausage.
"Don't dangle it out there like a fish on a hook and yank it back in, Montana. Don't make me work so damn hard all the time. It must be good for you to get that grin."
"Fine," she sighed in exasperation. "But you have to promise me you won't say a word of this to anyone. Especially Flack."
"Jesus Christ…she's having an affair."
"What?" Lindsay laughed at the absurdity of the idea. "Are you insane? Never. She loves that man more than life."
"She wants a divorce," Danny tried again.
"Did you not just hear what I said? Sam and Flack break up? Are you crazy? That would not only shock me but send me into a deep and impenetrable depression and prolonged state of mourning."
"Yeah, yeah. I know what a big fan you are of the SamFlackie union. But quit busting my onions here and tell me what's going on already."
Lindsay held out two plates and smiled sweetly. "Declan on the left, Mikayla on the right. Make sure you get it right. You give Mikki the one with the sausage on it and she's running from the room vomiting."
"What? She's a vegetarian or something?" he asked.
"She doesn't like the grease. She's like her Aunt Linds. Now go."
"Jesus Mary and Joseph," Danny muttered and took the plates and carried them over to the table crowded with kids.
"Our kids," Lindsay told him, holding out another two plates when he returned.
"Can't we just set up a serve yourself buffet?" Danny asked as he trudged back to the hungry, noisy natives.
"And these are for Kieran and Alannah," Lindsay said, the last two plates in hand. "Reggie and her friend Alessa said they're happy with just toast and cereal. Kieran's is the one with the strawberry jam on top of the eggs."
"That's just gross," Danny declared. "Gets his weird food combos from his mother apparently. When do we get to eat?"
"Children first, honey."
"By the time all these kids eat there'll be nothing left," he complained, taking the last two breakfasts to their rightful owners, than filling requests for glasses orange juice and milk before he was finally able to rejoin his wife as she made up plates for them. "So spill," he said, as they stood at the counter and dug into his own food. "What dirty little secret do you have on our Brooklyn?"
"It's not a dirty little secret," Lindsay told him, biting into a piece of toast. "It's just something she confided in me and told me that she's planning on mentioning to Flack sometime soon."
"Maybe she wants to quit? Stay at home full time finally?"
"That will never happen and we all know it. She told me that she wants to have another baby."
Danny spit scrambled eggs out all over the counter and down the front of his shirt. Than proceeded to choke and cough and sputter on what remained in his mouth. He grabbed his wife's cup of orange juice and took a huge swig to wash the food down.
"She wants to what?!" he exclaimed.
"Have another baby," Lindsay said calmly.
"Are you…is she…are you people seriously fucking…"
Lindsay clamped her hand over his mouth and frowned at the use of language.
"Are you people seriously mental?" Danny asked, after she'd removed her hand. "Another baby? Why?"
"Does there have to be a reason?"
"They already have six! Why does she feel the need for seven? Lucky number or something?"
"She just wants another one, okay? She doesn't need a reason to want another baby. And you have to swear to me you will not breath a word of this to Flack. It's up to her to tell him and I know you have the propensity to have a big mouth. A huge mouth actually."
"A huge mouth, huh?" Danny grinned and leaned sideways and reached out to brush a piece of hair over her shoulder and press a kiss to the side of her neck. "Other night you were raving about my big mouth," he teased and combed his fingers through her curls. So grateful she'd let her hair grow until it tumbled past her shoulders.
"It wasn't your mouth I was raving about," she said with a giggle. "It was your tongue and what you can do with it."
His grin broadened. "You always did have a thing for the Messer hidden talents. Ever since that night on my pool table."
She felt herself flush at the memory. It had been over sixteen years since that night. Since they'd been downing the tequila shots and playing pool and she'd beat him a Benjamin she could make a seemingly impossible shot. Sixteen years since she had turned to him, somewhat drunkenly, and told him he owed her some money and when he complained he was flush and she'd have to wait until pay day, she'd taken the bold step of suggesting he could pay her back in other ways.
And he had. She may have been drunk but the alcohol had done nothing to cloud what had happened that night. She could still remember the way she trembled under his touch and his ministrations. The way she had clung to him and raked her nails across his back and called out his name.
Sixteen years seemed like a long time. But to Lindsay, it seemed like just yesterday.
"Penny for your thoughts," Danny said, tapping the end of her nose with a fingertip.
"Hmm?" she asked, snapping out of her reverie and finding herself in the middle of Flack's kitchen as opposed to lying in the arms of the man she loved on that old pool table.
"You were lost in thought there for a second," Danny told her. "You wanna fill me in about what you were thinking about?"
"I wasn't thinking," she said. "I was day dreaming."
"About.." he pressed.
"The moment I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I loved you and would never love anyone else the same way ever again."
He frowned, as if trying to figure out when that time exactly was.
"You moron!" Lindsay laughed. "I was talking about the next morning. After the whole pool table incident. When I woke up in your arms and you smiled at me and touched the end of my nose just like you did a minute ago. And when I got up later on and saw that little daisy in your Giants mug and that note you scrawled on that chalk board in your kitchen? Well that just sealed the deal right than and there."
He smiled and kissed her softly. "That was one of my finer moments. And you know, I miss that chalk board. We should get one for our kitchen. Leave each other little love notes on it."
She grinned.
"But you know what I miss most of all?" Danny asked.
Lindsay shook her head.
"That pool table. 'Cause man, that was one lucky pool table if I do say so myself."
Lindsay laughed heartily, the sound quickly muted as she was drawn into her husband's arms and against his warm, strong chest and he covered his lips with hers in a smouldering, toe curling kiss that had all the kids either ooing and awing or complaining at how gross it was.
"First mom and dad and now this!" Reghan moaned. "What have we done to deserve such torture?"
As the kiss ended, leaving them both breathless and aching for so much more, Danny slid his hands down to his wife's sides and leaned his forehead hers.
"I love you," he told her. "You've always been my Montana. Even through all those years we spent apart."
Lindsay smiled and pecked his lips softly. "I love you, too," she said, and trailed a finger tip down his cheek. "And you've always been my cowboy."
The hockey game had been a complete success. The entire group that had once been a tight knit team at work, had gathered at that high school arena. There wasn't a face missing. Save for Sam and Flack who were still in Queens dealing with the aftermath of his father's death. The news of Flack Sr's demise had already spread through the department and condolences had become pouring into the house via phone calls as soon as the clock hit nine am. It had been a feat keeping the news from all of the children. Kieran had been good about not breathing a word of it and keeping a stiff upper lip despite how sad he felt.
No one talked about it in the stands during the game. They're thoughts were with Flack at his time of loss, but they were focused on all of the kids. Specifically the two on the house pouring their heart and soul into their craft. Egged on and uplifted by the cheering of their family and friends and Danny, acting in Flack's place as assistant coach, yelling encouragement across the ice at his godson playing right wing and his own son in net. Aiden Messer wasn't a big kid but he was a force to reckon with. He had a quick temper and even quicker reflexes and a smart wit. He was the hero of the high school. A legend for having an astounding record of shut outs in one season and propelling the once beleaguered varsity hockey team to the top of the stats. It had been a pleasant shock in itself when he'd even made varsity only in grade nine. But one look at his skills had shown the head coach that Aiden shouldn't be passed up on because of age or size.
At the end of sixty minutes, he had another shut out to add to his stats and was named the team MVP for the regular season. Danny had stood behind the bench, beaming with pride and a small tear in his eye and emotion choking at him as he watched his often shy, sheepish son accepting his award, and accepting a huge hug and a congratulations from his best friend. Aiden Messer and Kieran Flack were an odd couple. Aiden with his small stature and glasses and book worm looks and Kieran with his broad shoulders and strong build and those blue eyes and dimply grin that he'd inherited from his father. They were as different as night and day but as close as any friends could possibly be.
A friendship, akin to brotherhood, that their fathers had passed along.
"Awesome game, K," Danny praised his godson, laying a hand on the back of the young man's neck, as the large group headed for their cars in the crowded parking lot.
"I coulda done better," he sighed.
"What are you talking about? You had a goal and two assists? And a fight. That's a Gordie Howe hat trick."
Kieran grinned.
"You played awesome. You're not the team captain for nothing, you know? You need to go easy on yourself. You can't have a few goals each game. Hockey, and life, doesn't work like that, kid. Lots of disappoints in both. You remind me off your dad when you get like that. Second guessing and judging yourself. Your dad's like that, too."
"Yeah…but dad's better at hockey than I am."
"Your dad's also been playing longer than you have. He's thirty years old than you, K. Been lacing up the skates since he was five. But, in my honest opinion, you've got way more skills than he does. Not to mention a hell of a lot of promise. Your dad does it for fun. You could seriously make a career out of it."
"I doubt that," Kieran said, as they stopped at the back of his dad's SUV that Danny had been given personal permission to borrow.
"Don't underestimate yourself, kid," Danny said, as he unlocked and opened the rear of the SUV. "You put your mind and your talent to it, and you could be going places. And I'm not just talking hockey here. I'm talking with your schooling, too."
Kieran smirked as he loaded his equipment into the vehicle. "You've been talking to my dad. About me wanting to go into the academy."
"A little," Danny admitted. "He mentioned to me that you've been talking a lot about it."
"Just something I really want to do," Kieran said.
"You're fifteen, K. You've got a lot of time to figure out what you really want to do."
The fifteen year old sigh.
"Look, I'm not going to bitch and moan at you for thinking about becoming a cop," Danny told him, closing the back of the SUV and leaning against it as they waited for Lindsay and the rest of the kids to get a move on. They had taken two cars, obviously. Danny's own SUV was parked in the spot next to them. "But your dad, he wants more for you, okay? He wants more than you slaving away for an ungrateful city. He wants you having more than he ever did and more than he could ever give you. Understand what I'm saying?"
Kieran nodded.
"Your dad? Your dad is an amazing cop, K. I trust him with my life. There's no one else that I trust more than your father. But he became a cop to make his father happy. So his father would be proud of him. And you know what? No matter how hard your dad tried or all the arrests he made or the people he helped and those he saved, none of that mattered to your grandfather. And I know he's gone now and God rest his son, but your father did not deserve to be treated like that. And he shouldn't have had to feel that he needed that kind of approval from his old man. You know he had scouts looking at him the last year of high school? Scouts from colleges and even from the Rangers? Did you know that?"
Kieran shook his head.
"Well he did. He had a chance to make something big for himself," Danny said. "And instead, he went into the academy to prove himself worthy of his father's love. And that wasn't fair to him. And your dad loves his job and it's because of that job that he met your mom and has all you guys. And believe me, K. He loves your mother and you and all your siblings more than life itself. But there's also that small part of him that wonders what if. And he doesn't want you having any what ifs when you're his age. You see where I'm coming from?"
He nodded.
"I'm not going to tell you to not be a cop," Danny said. "If you want to be one, than that's fine. But be one because you truly, in your heart, want to be one. Not because you think it's going to make your dad proud of you or love you more. Because your dad is my best friend. I love him like a brother. And I can tell you without a doubt that he loves you and is damn proud of you no matter what you choose to do. Don't ever doubt that, K. Don't ever question if you father loves you. Because he does."
Tears sparkled in Kieran's eyes and he cleared his throat noisily and looked away.
"Kieran Flack?" a deep voice asked, as a man in his mid to late forties with short salt and pepper hair and wearing a pair of Dockers and hiking boots and a leather varsity jacket from the University of Notre Dame approached the SUV. Carrying a large manila folder.
He wiped his eyes and composed himself before turning to face the stranger. "I'm Kieran Flack," he confirmed.
"Mr Flack," the man offered Danny a hand.
Danny shook it. He didn't bother correcting the guy. He just wanted to see what was up first.
"My name is Robert Boyd," he introduced himself. "I'm the head scout for the athletic department at the University of Notre Dame."
"Home of the Fighting Irish," Danny commented. "What finds you in New York City all the way from Indiana. And in Queens, nonetheless."
"This young man right here," Boyd responded, nodding at Kieran. "I've had people watching him for three months now. His name first came to our attention when a parent of one of Kieran's team mates with a son playing for us, sent us a footage of game in January where he scored five goals and had three assists."
"And?" Danny asked.
"Archbishop Malloy is renowned for its superb athletic program. We've accepted many a student into our university. Notre Dame is an independent, national Catholic university and we have affiliations with Catholic schools all over the country."
"And…" Danny pressed.
"And we're very interested in Kieran."
"You're scouting him?" Danny asked. "He's only fifteen."
"We've followed some kids since they were even younger that showed remarkable talent. And your son, shows remarkable talent."
"Okay, first off, this isn't my son," Danny said. "Does he even look anything remotely like me? Look at him. He's at least four inches taller than me and outweighs me by about forty pounds. This is my godson. His dad couldn't make it today because his father passed away last night."
"I'm so sorry to hear about that," Boyd said sincerely. "My condolences to you and your family, Kieran."
"Thank you," the young man said quietly.
"So back to business," Danny said. "You're telling me that you're here, at this game, because you're scouting my godson?"
Boyd nodded. "And we'd like to keep scouting him. Until he's ready to graduate and make a decision as to where he wants to go in life. We've seen his transcripts. He has decent grades and I have no doubt he'd be able to continue having good grades and playing for our team."
"But he's fifteen," Danny said.
"Like I said, we've followed some kids since they were much younger. We've noticed a couple of areas that he could improve in, hockey wise."
"I'm right here," Kieran said. "You don't have to say he or talk to my Uncle. You can talk to me and call me by my name. I can carry on a conversation."
Boyd blinked, taken back by the somewhat brash tone in the young man's voice.
Danny grinned. "He's got a bit of a temper," he told the other man. "Both his folks are of Irish descent so that explains it right there. But he's right. Talk to him. He's the one you've been watching, talk to him, to his face."
"Like I've said," Boyd continued. This time speaking to Kieran. "We've been watching you for three months and we've seen game tapes and we've talked to the head coach and other players. We'd love to follow both your academic and athletic career over the next three years."
"And what than?" Kieran asked. "What happens after three years?"
"If you keep up your grades and how well you play, we'd be looking at offering you a place, at Notre Dame, on our team."
"My parents can't afford to send me to a place like that," Kieran said. "I've got five brothers and sisters. One of my brother's has special needs and my mom and dad work for the city and they can't be affording to send me to a place like that."
"We'd be more than willing to offer an athletic scholarship," Boyd told him. "If at that time, you graduate successfully and your family shows financial hardship, we wouldn't think twice at offering you a package."
"It's not that we're poor," Kieran said. "It's just…there's a lot of kids to send to college, you know."
"I know. I come from a family of eight myself."
"And you were saying there's areas I could improve on," Kieran pressed.
"One is the temper your Uncle briefly touched on. We'd like to see you have less penalty minutes and fighting majors. The second is your skating."
Kieran nodded. "Dad always says I should concentrate on that. That because I'm so big I tend to be a little slow. I guess I just let my size make up for my lack of speed."
"Have you ever heard of power skating?" Boyd asked. "That's one option you can consider. If you're serious about wanting to improve."
"Of course I am. I mean, who wouldn't want to play for the Fighting Irish," Kieran said excitedly. "I mean, I would love to. But three years is a long way away."
"Which is why we'll keep an eye on you and keep in touch," Boyd told him. "I'd love to meet with your parents but this obviously isn't the time for it. So I'll tell you what," he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a business card. "Give this to your mom and dad and ask them to call me if they have any questions. Maybe when the time is right, the three of you can come down and check out our school and meet with me."
"That sounds like a plan," Kieran said and took the card.
"And here's an information package on Notre Dame," Boyd now held out the manila folder he'd been carrying "A little light reading for you and your parents."
"Thank you," Kieran said and took the folder.
"It was nice meeting you, Kieran," the older man offered his hand.
"Likewise," the fifteen year old returned, shaking his hand.
"You as well, Mr.."
"Uncle Danny," the CSI said and shook the man's hand as well.
"I'm looking forward to hearing from your parents," Boyd told Kieran. "Again, my sincerest condolences on the loss of your grandfather. You had a hell of a game today. You showed real leadership out there. We liked that in our athletes. Take care, Kieran."
"You too," he called, as the older man headed through the parking lot.
Kieran sighed and looked down at the business card and folder in his hands. Than turned his blue eyes to his beaming, proud godfather.
"You're going places, kid," Danny said. "Mark my words."
My nerves are just so wound up right now it's not even funny. Please no flames on the DL stuff. I really, really did try.
Thanks to all of those who are reading and reviewing. I appreciate each and every one of you. Even the lurkers! So show some love folks and drop me a review! Makes my day! Postings will slow down soon. So I have been enjoying writing as much as possible!
Special thanks to:
laurzz
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shopaholic20
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Forest Angel
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