DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND THE FLACK TWINS.
Quality Time
"Everybody's looking for what we've found
Some wait their whole lives and it never comes around
So don't hold back now,
Just let go of all you've ever known
And put your hand in mine
Don't fear it now; we're going all the way
Where the sun is shining on a brand new day
It's a long way down, and it's a leap of faith
But I'm never giving up, 'cause I know we got a once in a lifetime love
I close my eyes and I see you standing right there
Saying "I do" and they're throwing rice in our hair
Then the first one's born, then a brother comes along and he's got your smile
I'll be looking back at the life we had still at your side
So don't fear it now; we're going all the way
Where the sun is shining on a brand new day
It's a long way down, and it's a leap of faith
But I'm never giving up, 'cause I know we got a once in a lifetime love."
-Once in a Lifetime, Keith Urban
"I spy with my little eye, something that is…" Lindsay Messer peered out the windshield of her family's black Nissan Pathfinder. Navigating her way through the snowy streets of Ridgewood, Queens while Kellan and Kallison Flack, bundled up in their snowsuits and secured in their booster seats, happily and exuberantly played along with their aunt.
"Yellow!" Kellan called out impatiently.
"Gween!" Kallison offered.
"No…it's not blue or green," their aunt replied.
"Purple!" Kallison yelled.
"Pink!" her sister tried.
"Nope," Lindsay shook her head, getting a kick out of teasing her 'nieces'. "Try again you two."
There were no words that could accurately describe the depth of love that she felt for the two little girls behind her. Of course, no parent could ever love someone else's children as much as they loved their own. There was a bond that existed between mother and child that could never be duplicated or replaced. But the bond that she had between the Flack twins, the beautiful little girls that had been brought into the world by her best friend, was something Lindsay had never experienced before. A bond that was powerful and impenetrable. Those girls meant the world to her, as did their parents. And there was nothing that she wouldn't do for that entire family.
But Kellan and Kallison held a huge part of her heart. Those sweet, cherubic little faces framed by all that dark hair and those big blue eyes and rosy lips and cheeks. They had the faces of angels and at times, personalities of the devil. And Lindsay wouldn't have had them any other way.
"White!" Kallison cried.
"Blue!" Kellan said. "That's daddy's faborite colour!"
"Mine too!" he sister declared.
"No it's not," Kellan argued. "Your faborite colour is purple."
"Not any more," Kallison informed her, munching on the cherry flavoured candy cane clutched tightly in her hand. "It's blue now."
"You're only saying blue 'cause it's the one that daddy likes. And blue is my faborite too and you never liked it before."
"Well I like it now," Kallison said. "So there."
"You can't like the same faborite colour as me and daddy!" Kellan argued. "That's not nice!"
"Girls," Lindsay said in a warning tone. "No fighting. You've both did so well all last night and this morning. You haven't fought the entire time you've been at my house. Don't ruin things by starting now."
"She's only saying that blue is her faborite colour to make me mad," Kellan pouted. "Tell her that that's not nice, Auntie M."
Auntie M. Short for Auntie Montana. A nickname Danny had taught the girls once they were old enough to remember it and repeat it. The same way Danny had told his kids that Samantha was Auntie Brooklyn and soon after allowed them to adopt the moniker of Auntie B for her.
"Kellan, people can like whatever colour they want, sweetie," Lindsay told her gently. "And they can have different colours they like every day."
"But she's only doing it to make me upset!" Kellan cried. "'Cause it's the colour that daddy and I like."
"And you and your daddy can still like that colour," Lindsay said. "But Kallison can like it too."
"She's just being a baby," Kallison declared.
"I am not!" her sister yelled.
"Are too!" Kallison screamed back.
"I AM NOT!" Kellan shrieked and proceeded to knock her sister's hat off and damn near yank a clump of hair right out of Kallison's head.
The little girl didn't cry or even whimper or wince from pain. But a full out slapping and shoving match ensued in Lindsay Messer's backseat. As much of a fight as could take place when the guilty parties were strapped into booster seats. It was hard to drive and beg and scream for calm. Especially when the two girls were so intent on punishing each other. It wasn't the first time that things got physical between the sisters and it wouldn't be the last. Lindsay had seen a couple of good scraps between Amanda and DJ when Amanda objected to her little brother being in her room and messing things up. But Kellan and Kallison Flack were in a league all of their own when it came to fighting. Name calling, hair pulling, biting, punching, kicking. You name it and they did it.
And five minutes later they were best friends again.
"Girls!" Lindsay yelled over the hollering going on behind her. "Do not make me pull this car over and get out and toss you both over my knee and spank both your asses!"
"She's hurting me!!!" Kallison screamed, trying to wiggle out of the firm grasp her sister had on her hair.
"You deserve it!" Kellan yelled back. Proving that it was the always the small ones you had to watch out for. That big things came in tiny packages.
"Stop it!" Lindsay roared. "Both of you just stop it! I do not want to have to tell your mommy that this was going on!"
"Let go of me, Kellan!" Kallison shrieked.
"Not until you say sorry!"
Lindsay decided to take a different approach. Use the one thing, or more specifically, the one person that could always easily and efficiently end such behaviour. Without having to even resort to violence of his own. A simple stern, angry glance and a raised voice from said person being enough to calm the twins down right quick.
"Do not make me call your daddy and tell him you're fighting!" Lindsay bellowed.
That did it. Both girls quickly stopped their screaming, Kellan let go of her sister's hair and she straightened up in her booster seat and folded her hands in her lap. Kallison smoothed her hair down and put her hat back on. Both had tears welling in their eyes and huge pouts on their faces.
"Now are you both calm?" Lindsay asked, casting a glance at them through the rear view mirror.
The twins nodded.
"There is no reason to be fighting like that! What is wrong with you two? Now knock it off and behave! Got it?"
They nodded again.
Lindsay sighed and shook her head and concentrated on her driving.
"Auntie M?" Kellan asked in a tiny voice.
"What, baby?"
"You're not going to tell daddy are you?" the little girl inquired.
"Do you think I should tell daddy?" Lindsay responded.
Kellan shook her head. "Daddy is scary," she declared.
Lindsay frowned. "Why would you say that?"
"'Cause daddy yells really, really, really loud," the little girl told her. "And 'cause he's really big, too."
"It's 'cause he's a policeman," Kallison concluded.
"No," Kellan argued. "Uncle Danny's a policeman and he's not scary. He isn't big."
"Well daddy is," Kallison said. "But mommy is small and she whips daddy into shape."
Lindsay laughed at that. "Who told you that?" she asked.
"That's what grandpa Flack said," Kallison replied. "He said that mommy is so small but she knows how to handle daddy when he gets too big for his bitches."
Lindsay laughed even harder. "It's britches, babe. And your grandpa is right. Your mommy does know how to handle your daddy when he needs to be handled."
"'Cause daddy is bad sometimes," Kellan said. "Like when he had that girlfriend and mommy found out. That was really, really bad daddy."
"How did you know about that?" Lindsay asked. Knowing that a brief, extra marital affair wouldn't have exactly been dinner conversation in the Flack house. It had happened several months ago, and she was surprised that the girls would even remember hearing about something like that.
"We hear things," Kallison told her. "Mommy and daddy were fighting and they were talking about it. Mommy was really mad and yelling at daddy about it. And she told daddy to get out of the house but he wouldn't do and then mommy told him that she was going to take us and go and stay somewhere and he got really mad at her and told her she wasn't allowed to go anywhere."
"And mommy told daddy to leave her alone and said that he was hurting her," Kellan added.
"And mommy had bruises on her arms in the morning," her sister said, pointing to the tops of her own arms.
"We just stayed in our room," Kellan said, clutching Holly Hobby to her chest. "It was scary."
"Are mommy and daddy going to get a diborce?" Kallison inquired.
"Your mommy and daddy love each other," Lindsay assured the twins. "They were just going through some really hard times back then and your daddy made a bad mistake. And he made up for that. He loves your mommy and he loves you guys. He'd never do anything to hurt either of you, or your mom. You know that right?"
They nodded.
"It's hard when mommies and daddies fight, isn't it," Lindsay said sadly.
"It makes me sad," Kellan told her, tears threatening,
"Me too," Kallison said with a heavy sigh. "I don't want daddy to go live somewhere else."
"Daddy's fun," her sister chirped. "He makes me laugh all the time. Especially when he burps really loud and makes farting noises with his armpits and tells us to pull his finger."
"And he makes really good grilled cheese and saghetti and meatballs," Kallison added. "And really, really good chocolate cupcakes."
"Daddy makes the best cupcakes EVER!" Kellan cried.
Lindsay chuckled as she turned down the Flacks street. "Daddy bakes cupcakes?" she asked. There was a side of Don Flack Jr she didn't know about. And they'd been close friends for more then a decade.
Kellan nodded. "Cupcakes and peanut butter chocolate chip cookies!"
"And pancakes!" Kallison exclaimed. "Daddy makes the best pancakes in the WORLD!"
"But not as good as the cupcakes," Kellan said. "And he wears an apron too. Mommy's Hello Kitty Apron."
Both girls giggled at that.
"Does he let you guys help?" Lindsay asked.
Kallison nodded. "He lets us pour stuff into the bowl. And helps us mix stuff, too!"
"And let's us lick the bowl and the spoons after," Kellan added.
"Shhh!!!!" her sister placed a finger over her lips. "Daddy said that was a secret! 'Cause mommy would be mad he let us do that!"
"I promise I won't tell," Lindsay assured them. A smiling spreading from ear to ear as she approached the row of red brick and stone townhouses and spotted the familiar black SUV parked in the small lot across the street. One downfall of living in the townhouses was that there were no driveways and residents had to park across the street in the designated lot.
"Hey girls," she said. "One more game of eye spy, okay?"
"Okay," Kellan chirped.
"Alright. I spy with my little eye, something that is black."
"Auntie M's coat!" Kallison cried.
"Nope."
"The seats!" Kellan tried.
"One more try for each of you," Lindsay said.
The girls thought long and hard.
"Auntie M's boots!" offered Kallison.
Her aunt shook her head.
"Mine and Kallison's hair!" her sister exclaimed.
"Nope. Wrong. All wrong," Lindsay told them, as she pulled up in front of unit 16. Visitors were allowed to park out front for short stays only. Anything over an hour and you were begging for a ticket.
"Well what is it, auntie M?" Kellan asked.
"Look to your left. At the only black thing parked over there," she told the twins, as she killed the ignition and leaned over to pop open the glove compartment. She snagged the NYPD placard and tossed it on the dash.
The girls glanced in the direction Lindsay told them and their aunt prepared for the shrieking she knew would soon ensue.
"Daddy's truck!" Kellan squealed.
"Daddy's home!" her sister cried ecstatically. "Daddy's home!"
Lindsay couldn't help but break into a huge smile. Flack worked long and hard hours and didn't get to spend nearly enough time with his family as he would have liked. And likewise, the girls didn't get to spend near the time they wanted to with him. And whatever time they did have, their father was bound and determined to make special. Flack was a huge proponent of family time. Quality family time at that. He wasn't one to coup himself and his kids up in the house. And when Sam was well and the weather behaved, it was rare to find the Flack family at home.
Skating and sledding in the winter and long walks and bike rides and trips to the park in the summer. Not to mention any activity that those girls showed even the remotest interest in. Swimming, soccer, t-ball, figure skating and gymnastics to name a few. And now both were expressing interest in hockey. And the entire family loved camping. Even when Sam wasn't up to it, Flack and Danny would pack all their kids up and head out for a weekend. Nothing but sleeping bags and tents and enough food to get by.
Lindsay climbed out of the SUV and got the girls unbuckled one at a time. She had just placed Kellan on the small patch of snowy front lawn and was reaching in to get Kallison undone when she heard the screen door to the townhouse directly behind her opening.
"Daddy!!!" Kellan squealed and raced towards him, arms outstretched. "You stayed home from work today!"
"I did," he said and scooped her tiny body up.
"Are you sick?" she asked, worry in her blue eyes as she laid her hand, palm down, on his forehead. Even if he did have a fever, she never would have been able to feel it through her thick pink wool mitten.
"Nope," Flack replied, kissing his daughter's rosy cheeks and settling her on his hip. "Why would you think I was sick, baby sweets?"
"'Cause you didn't go to work to catch the bad guys like you were 'spose to," she told him.
"My boss just called earlier and said that I didn't have to go to work today," he said. "That I could stay home and do things with you and Kallison and mommy."
"Are you happy, daddy?" Kellan asked. "That you don't have to go and catch bad guys today?"
"Yep. Very happy. And you know why?"
She shook her head.
"Because I get to spend the entire day with you and your sister and your mommy. And there's nothing that I like more then getting to spend lots and lots of time with you guys. Know what we're going to do today?"
"Can we play Barbies?" Kellan asked hopefully. "Have a tea party?"
"Maybe. But I thought of something even better. I'm going to take you and your sister and mommy to Central Park. And we're going to go and see the polar bears and the penguins at the zoo."
"Can we go skating too?" Kallison asked, as she bounded across the snow towards him.
"We can do whatever we want," Flack replied and scooped her up with his free arm.
"Sounds like you guys are going to have a great time," Lindsay said, as she carried their small wheelie suitcases.
"Were they good?" Flack asked, kissing the tiny woman's cheek in greeting.
Lindsay took in the innocent faces of Kellan and Kallison Flack. Those rosy cheeks and those long dark eyelashes framing their big blue eyes. So innocent and so pure that she couldn't possibly do anything to hurt them or get them into trouble.
"They were angels," she replied. "No trouble at all. I have their Christmas gifts loaded in the back. I'd stay for a visit, but Danny's alone with the kids and he's a little hung over and not as patient and understanding as he usually is."
"Go home and tell him I said he's a loser," Flack said and set the girls on the snow. "Go on inside and mommy will help you guys get undressed, okay?"
"Is Wiener home, too?" Kellan asked.
"Grandma brought him home a little while ago," Flack confirmed. "Say thank you to Auntie M for all the Christmas presents and for putting up with you guys and letting you stay over night."
The girls said their thank you's and gave and received hugs and kisses and then stomped off through the snow and up the stairs and onto the front porch. Where their mother was waiting for them behind the screen door.
"Enjoy your mommy and daddy time?" Lindsay called to her best friend,
"More then I could ever possibly tell you," Sam responded, giving a girlish giggle as she opened the screen door and motioned for the girls to step inside. Listening to them ramble excitedly about having French toast for breakfast and getting to watch cartoons with Uncle Danny and DJ and play with Amanda's special dollies and Auntie M letting them up with the baby. Their stories were long winded and repetitive, but their mother listened intently and offered up the right comments when the need arose.
"Well didn't you miss me and daddy?" Sam asked, feigning hurt.
"Of course we did!" Kallison exclaimed, stomping off her boots before stepping into the house.
"I missed Wiener the most!" Kellan declared.
Sam laughed and gave Lindsay a wave. "Call me later!" she called. "After supper. By then I'll have talked to Mari and I'll know what time we're heading to The Pottery Barn at tomorrow!"
"I'll be armed and ready with Danny's credit card!" Lindsay assured her. "Talk later!"
Sam gave a final wave before closing the screen door and then the heavy wooden one.
"So," Lindsay said, as she handed Flack the girls' wheelie suitcases and headed for the back of the SUV. "I take it you and your lovely wife had some nice quiet time."
"Don't know how quiet it was," he laughed as he followed her. "But it was nice. Far from nice, actually. It was just what we needed. Being alone."
"I am glad to have been of some service," Lindsay said as she opened the rear door.
"You're a godsend for taking the girls overnight," Flack declared. "I haven't had moments like that with my wife for a long time. So you agreeing to let them stay over? I can never thank you enough."
"You and Sam have done it for me and Dan many a time," Lindsay reminded him, as she pulled out two large green garbage bags. "We were just returning the favour. And the girls were amazing. We love having them."
"Don't say that too loud," Flack laughed, moving one of the small suitcases to his other hand, enabling him to have a free hand to take the garbage bags. "Sam and I may just ship them off to your place more."
"Well we wouldn't mind," she assured him and shut the door. "We had a lot of fun. Everything okay?"
"Why wouldn't it be?"
"You seemed a little off yesterday. Not yourself. Things are okay?"
"I've just got a lot on my mind, Linds. Work related stuff. For once, things are going damn good at home. No complaints there. Just a lot of NYPD, bureaucratic bullshit."
"What else is knew," she snorted. "I heard Mac was going to start lowering the boom around the lab. I guess the commissioner's released the budget and it's not good for a lot of departments."
"People are getting hit all over the place," Flack said. "No department is safe. Detective bureau alone got hit with twenty-five lay offs."
She shook her head. "Guess you're glad you climbed the ranks as quick as you did."
"My ass is safe," he said. "Other people aren't so lucky. Where'd you hear this? About the lab?"
"Just talk that's been going around. Same talk that goes around every few years when the brass starts getting their panties in a twist about spending."
Flack grinned. "Panties in a twist. You sounded so much like Danny just then."
"He rubs off of me," she said with a smile. "Try not to get so stressed, Don. It's only going to make your ulcers flare up. And that is the last thing you need. Especially over this stuff with the adoption agencies."
He snorted and waved it off. "Sam and I have come to a conclusion about that. About the whole adoption thing. We're not going to try anymore. Not even private."
"But you guys want another baby so bad," Lindsay said. "And private is a great option for the two of you and I'm sure if you ask around you'd be able to find someone who wants to give their baby a great home."
"Maybe. But we've had our hearts broken one too many time with the system. And we were talking about half an hour ago, saying that we've decided to go in another direction. Because we really, really, really want a baby. And this direction seems the perfect one for us."
"And that is?"
"Sam and I agreed to take you and Danny up on that whole surrogate thing," Flack told her.
Lindsay blinked and recoiled slightly.
"Surprised?"
"More then a little. I thought for sure that after last night there'd be no chance you'd ever change your mind."
"Well I have. I mean, if the offer is still on the table."
"Of course it is!" she exclaimed. "It was never off the table. I just knew that you guys had some serious reservations about the whole thing."
"We did. We still do. Sam's got some things she's worried about. She's a bit concerned about you getting attached to the baby while you're pregnant and not wanting to give it up in the end."
"I already told her that I will sign whatever legal document I have to do ensure that the baby is belongs to the two of you. I just want to help you guys out. I don't want the child for myself."
"I know. You're on the same page as me. That it's strictly a business thing. But Sam…" he sighed. "Sammie's really sensitive. You know that. And it would seriously kill her if something backfired. And she's a little worried that you being pregnant with my baby? That I'll develop some sort of bond with you because of it."
"Don, we both know that isn't going to happen. You'll be bonding with your baby. Not with me. We're friends. That's all we're ever going to be. I'm in love with my husband and you're in love with your wife. Like you said, this is a business thing."
He nodded. "I just…I don't want her to get hurt, Lindsay. I've hurt her enough with things I've done in the past. I don't want things getting blown out of proportion or misconstrued."
"Well it's up to us to make sure that doesn't happen," she said. "We're adults, Don. And we'll handle this like adults."
"It's just a little freaky, you know? The whole thought of having a baby with my wife's best friend."
"It will take some getting used to," Lindsay agreed. "But we'll all manage. I'll call my OB in the new year. She'll be able to set us on the right path with a fertility specialist and what not. She probably can give me some names and numbers of family lawyers. So we can get every possible paper drawn up. Sound good?"
"Sounds good," he said.
"It will all work out," she assured him, rubbing his arm softly. "I promise."
"Daddy!" Kallison bellowed from the front door. "Mommy says to tell you that the washing machine is broken again!"
Flack sighed and shook his head. "Never a dull moment," he said. "I better get in there. Calm the troops."
"I better get home to mine," Lindsay laughed. "Before daddy has a mental breakdown."
"Him and me both," Flack said as he headed across the snow towards the house. "I've fixed that damn washing machine three times in the past six months. And it's less then a year old."
"Time to call in the professionals," Lindsay told him.
He snorted. "Never."
"Stubborn bastard," she laughed. "You'll never change Flack."
"And you don't want me too," he said, grinning at her over his shoulder as he climbed the front steps, where Kallison was holding open the screen door for him. Standing on the front porch, in the snow, in her socks. "Are you insane, child?" he asked.
"I'm holding the door for you, daddy!" she announced proudly.
"I realise that. And I appreciate it, pumpkin eater. But now your socks are soaking wet. Go inside and take them off. Then ask mommy to dry your feet off for you."
"And get new socks?" his daughter asked.
"And get new socks," he confirmed, shaking his head as she dashed into the house.
"Good luck!" Lindsay called to him as he stepped through the front door.
"DADDEEEE!" Kellan shrieked. "Wiener ate my whole Gingerbread man and mommy says he's probably going to puke everywhere!"
"Save me!" he pleaded, then chuckled heartily and disappeared inside, closing the doors behind him.
Lindsay grinned and climbed behind the wheel of the SUV. Excited, and nervous, about the future.
The day had been a busy one. After quickly fixing a minor issue with the washing machine -one of the girls had left a jelly bracelet in their jean pocket and once mommy put said jeans in the washer, the damn thing became entangled on the underside of the agitator- the girls had had a quick snack and the entire family bundled themselves up and out they went for the afternoon.
Their first stop had been the Central Park Zoo. Both girls were enamoured with penguins. Happy Feet was one of their favourite movies and it was a miracle that their DVD hadn't worn out by the amount of times they had watched it. It was the only time that Kellan and Kallison actually got along. When they were hunkered down together in family room, cuddled up, side by side under a warm blanket as they watched their Disney movies.
They'd spent nearly an hour and a half at the penguin exhibit alone. Standing underground as the penguins dove into the water and frolicked in the tank for all of the observers to see. The girls were in complete and utter awe of the things. Their tiny faces and hands pressed up against the glass as their parents held them up high enough to get a good view of everything. It was the most well behaved and quiet that either Flack or Sam had ever seen their usually high spirited, often out of control twins. They listened carefully and intently to the zoo worker that gave a short, and interesting, lecture on the penguins. The girls even had some questions of their own. Much to the delight of the other people observing the exhibit. Their musical giggles and often silly questions bringing smiles to everyone around them.
Of course, no trip to the exhibit was complete without purchases stuffed penguins and two t-shirts for the girls from the gift shop. And when Sam had commented how cute the stuffed animals were, Flack had went back in and bought her one too. And she'd laughed and given that smile that crinkled her nose and eyes and made his heart skip a beat even after eight years together.
They had paid the polar bears a visit and then headed to the north end of the park to skate on Lasker rink. It was smaller and not as crowded as the more popular Woolman rink on the east side. It gave the girls a chance to 'skate' without the worry of being bowled over by hockey players out to prove they were the next miracle on ice when in fact, they were far from it. To the girls, skating was actually no more then trying to run across the ice and falling numerous times in the process. In their snowsuits and helmets they were protected from injury and enjoyed every moment out on the ice. Especially when daddy, with his excellent skating skills, would hold their hands or let them grab onto his coat and let him pull them behind him.
They had giggled and squealed the entire time. But had been so tired out by the fresh air and the exercise, that they were fast asleep before their father, who carried them from the rink, could even get them back to the car.
The twins were awake and raring to go by the time the family got home. And after everyone had had warm baths and changed into comfortable clothes, plans for dinner were made -the girls had requested cheese pizza and their dad couldn't refuse them- and while Sam caught up on the house work and the laundry, Flack and his girls assembled in the kitchen. To make cupcakes. One girl on either side of him at the kitchen island, standing on chairs in their Dora the Explorer sweatsuits and their bare feet, their long, black hair slightly damp and put up in high ponytails.
"Daddy?" Kellan asked, as she peered into the bowl as he cracked an egg into the cupcake mix. Her ever present Holly Hobby doll sitting on the counter next to her.
"What, baby?" he inquired, beating the mix and the egg together.
"Can we get a cat?" she asked.
"No," he replied. "We can't."
"But Uncle Shelly and Auntie Mari have a cat," Kallison said. "I love Buttons. He's cute. He sleeps on Jasmine's bed and he got into Elijah's knapsack once and Elijah almost took him to school. Why can't we have a cat? How come they can have a cat and we can't, daddy?"
"Because no one over there is allergic to cats," Flack told her. "And I'm allergic to them and so are you two. So no cats in this house."
"What does 'lergic mean?" Kellan asked.
"You know how every time you go near Buttons your eyes water and you start sneezing and you get itchy?" Flack asked.
She nodded.
"That means you're allergic," he said. "Which means we can't have a cat."
"Mommy's not 'lergic," Kallison told him. "So mommy can have a cat."
"She can," Flack agreed. "If she lives in a different house."
"I don't want mommy to live in a different house," Kallison said. "I'd miss her."
"So would I," her dad told her. "Which is why mommy can't have a cat either. Because I'd be sad if she wasn't around anymore. So it's best we keep her exactly where she is. Right?"
Both girls nodded.
"We wouldn't want you to be sad, daddy," Kellan chirped. "That would make us sad. And if you were sad you wouldn't want to play Barbies and have tea parties with us."
"And you wouldn't want to bake cupcakes," Kallison added.
"Well then all the more reason why mommy can't have a cat," he said.
"Can we get a dog?" Kellan asked.
"You already have a dog," he replied.
"But we want another one," Kallison told him.
"There's enough animals in this house," he said, reaching for the cupcake pans that the girls had happily slicked up with cooking spray and prepared with baking cups. "We have Wiener and Gracie and George. That's enough."
"What about a hamster?" Kellan tried. "Can we have a hamster?"
"Or a fish?" her sister suggested.
"No more pets," Flack said. "We have enough. And mommy hates anything that looks like a mouse and she says fish stink."
"Wiener stinks," Kellan complained. "He smells like farts."
"That's 'cause he's a boy," Kallison told her. "All boys smell like farts."
Flack couldn't help but laugh at that. "But I'm a boy," he said. "Do I smell like farts?"
"You're different daddy," Kellan told him.
"Yeah," Kallison agreed. "You're daddy."
"Daddies do gross stuff to," he said. "Lots of gross stuff."
"Like what?" Kellan asked, sticking her finger in the bowl and scooping out some mix. "Like fart and pick your nose?"
"And eat it?" her sister added.
"Nothing like that," he said. "Ask your mom what an Indian Furnace is when she gets up here."
"Ask me what a what is?" Sam asked curiously, catching the tail end of the conversation as she came up the stairs from the basement and into the kitchen, hauling a load of clean laundry on her hip.
"Mommy?" Kellan asked. "What's an Indian…what's the word, daddy?"
"An Indian Furnace," he told her, unable to keep a straight face.
"Oh my God, Donald!" his wife shrieked. "Don't teach them stuff like that!"
"It's perfectly innocent, babe. We got onto how Wiener smells like farts and how all boys smell like farts and that was the natural progression of the conversation."
"What kind of conversations are you three having?" she asked, setting the basket on the floor and blowing her bangs out of her eyes before scooping up some clothes and dropping them on the table.
"Apparently very gross ones that involve toilet humour," Flack replied. "Go on, babe, Tell them what an Indian Furnace is."
"I will not," she said. "It's gross."
"What is it?" Kellan asked.
"It's something your Uncle Danny and your daddy do to Aunt Linds and me all the time," Sam told her. "Something gross that they find very, very funny."
"Tell them, Sammie," her husband encouraged. "Tell them."
"You find it so funny, you tell them," she said. "Your problem is you can't talk about farting without laughing your butt off. You and your sophomoric toilet humour. You're such a guy, Donnie."
"Are you going to tell them or not?" he asked.
"It's when someone farts and then pins you under the covers so you nearly die from the smell!" Sam snapped. "There! You happy!"
Flack tried to keep the laughter in, but it was all in vain. He was more amused by the disgust in his wife's voice and on her face then the actual meaning of an Indian Furnace. And the more he laughed the more his ears and his face turned bright red and his eyes watered. And the more that happened, the louder and longer both he and the girls laughed.
"You're so mature," Sam grumbled. "Now they're going to be doing that to each other all the time."
"Just because of this conversation, I am forcing you to make a big old pot of wieners and beans tomorrow for supper," her husband told her, wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his t-shirt.
"You wish! Explain to me why I married you?"
"Because you love me," he told her. "With every fibre of your being. You love me and adore me and can't live without me."
"And because daddy is a cutie-patutie," Kallison informed her mother.
"We're cute like daddy and smart like mommy," Kellan said.
"Okay, enough from the peanut gallery," Sam laughed. "You three just make your cupcakes and get your laughs at someone elses expense. And Donnie, could you be a dear after supper and please look at the dryer. It's making that rumbling noise again."
"It's suppose to make a rumbling noise," he told her.
"It's not suppose to sound like it's going to explode, babe. And I think the central vac thing is plugged again."
"You need a handyman to solve all your problems," he teased.
"And I think the sink in the utility room needs snaking," she added.
"I should have been a plumber," he declared.
"Why's that?" Sam asked, folding a sweater of Kallison's.
"Because you like the way I lay my pipe."
"Donald!" Sam cried. "What is wrong with you?!"
"It's the chocolate," he laughed. "It messes with my brain. Good thing it's not that special chocolate from that case way back when. You know the one that got you so hot and bothered that you did a little something something for me in my car when I drove you home after work."
"Can you not talk like that in front of your daughters?" she asked. "Please? Honestly. There's something wrong with you."
"Sorry…" he said, chuckling. "I'll be a good boy. And yes I will take care of all the things on my Honey-Do list."
"It's a big one," Sam told him, nodding towards the fridge, where said list was tacked up with a magnet.
"I'm up for the challenge," he said and cracked his knuckles. "Okay…who wants to pour the first batch of mix?"
"I do!" both girls cried out excitedly.
"Who got to go first last time?" he asked.
His daughters pointed at each other.
Flack sighed. "Okay…it's a number between one and ten. Pick a number. Kellan?"
"Six!"
"Kallison."
"Fifteen."
"Between one and ten," he told her, tugging playfully on her ponytail.
"Uh…three."
"It was seven. Kellan gets to go first. And no pouting Kallison. Take turns."
Sam grinned as she watched the three of them at the island. Her tiny daughters standing on those chairs, looking at their father with the utmost love and adoration and respect. This big, tall and strong cop that seemed so abrasive and rough around the edges to outsides, but to his tiny family was a gentle giant. And she realized, as she sat there folding laundry and watching as her husband, with incredible patience and tenderness, helped their daughter pour cupcake mix into baking cups, that she had lucked out the day she'd married him and began planning to have a family with him.
Because while he may have been devastatingly handsome and possess a wicked sense of humour that had her laughing on even the darkest days, what made him incredibly sexy was the way he was with his children. The way he jumped into every activity with a youthful exuberance and treated each girl fairly and lovingly. He showed no favourites and tolerated no crap. Strict was one way to describe him. He liked order in the house and liked his children well behaved. He had no patience for tempter tantrums and fighting and was quick to discipline.
But he was also quick with the praise and the hugs and the kisses. Quick to tell the girls he loved them and show affection. Unlike his own father in every possible way.
She was lucky. So very, very lucky. Because no matter how bad things got, no matter how serious their problems, her husband loved her and their children. And she had no doubt in her mind that he was in their lives to stay. Through thick and thin. For better or for worse.
"Hey, Don," she called to him, as she finished folding another sweater and laid it on the table.
"Yeah, babe?" he asked, casting a glance in her direction.
"I love you," she told him.
He smiled brightly.
"I just wanted you to know that," she said. "You know, in case you ever think otherwise."
"I never have," he assured her. "And I love you too."
"We love you too mommy!" Kallison exclaimed.
"Lots and lots and lots!" Kellan added.
"I love you guys, too," Sam said.
Husband and wife smiled at each other.
Life wasn't perfect. But they had each other.
And they had love.
And that was the greatest thing of all.
At quarter to nine that evening, Samantha, in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt she'd pilfered from her husband's pile of clean laundry, found herself sitting at the kitchen table, with a cup of tea and a cupcake amongst a sea of paperwork she was desperate to finish before the New Year. Cases that needed to closed before she moved to her new position at Stella's lab, employee documents the New Jersey Crime Lab needed before she stepped through their doors on her first day. Medical information and insurance documents. The list went on and on.
She sipped her tea and glanced up as her husband wandered into the kitchen, carrying Holly Hobby in one hand, and a bottle of children's Tylenol in the other.
"Are they asleep?" she asked.
Flack nodded. "They're in Kallison's bed. Kellan says it will make her throat feel all better."
"Did you check her temperature?"
"It was high. Just over a hundred. But I think the Tylenol will bring it down. Amazing how quick that kid can catch something."
"It's her compromised immune system," Sam sighed. "We knew they'd have problems from being preemies, but who knew it would be Kellan that would get everything wrong with her. Did you read them a story?"
"I read them The Giving Tree twice," he said, putting the Tylenol back in the cupboard by the fridge.
"I do not know how you get through that story. I cry like a baby every time I read it."
"That's because you're overly sensitive," he informed her. "And your daughter is just like you. I managed to snag Holly once Kellan got to sleep. This thing stinks, babe."
"She takes it everywhere with her," Sam reasoned. "Chews on Holly's hand when she's trying to fall asleep. And only the left hand. Not the right. Because the left hand is closest to Holly's heart she says."
"Well whatever she's doing to this doll, it reeks," Flack told his wife. "It needs a good wash. Do I just toss it in or…"
"Put it in a pillowcase and toss it in the washer. There's a load down there waiting to go in."
"Christ you're demanding," he complained and headed for the basement. Returning a couple of minutes later with a two Polar Ice Cream bars from the big freezer in the utility room. "What are you doing?" he asked, pausing to drop a kiss on the top of his wife's head before sitting down in the chair diagonally across from her.
"Just some stuff that needs to be finished up," she sighed. "Nothing too major."
"I called the agent that sold us this place," Flack told her, peeling the wrapper from the first ice cream bar. "Left a message. And Sinclair left a message on my cell. I go and talk to him tomorrow afternoon at two. He sounds worried."
"How do you think he'll take it?"
Flack shrugged. "Probably shit himself like most people will."
Sam scoured the papers on the table before picking up two sheets and holding them out to him. "I went on the 'net and looked up real estate in Hackensack," she said. "These are all houses in the same price range as what we paid for this one. Single family homes, three bedroom, most have two baths. One has a really nice backyard with a pool."
"We'll definitely have to get down there and check things out," he said, taking the papers and setting them down in front of him. Eyes scanning the pictures and information on the top sheet as he munched on the ice cream bar.
Sam went back to her paperwork. "Donnie…can I ask you something?"
"What kind of something?"
"A personal something."
"We're married, babe. You should be able to ask me anything."
She sighed and set her pen down on her papers and clasped her hands together. "Do you think I'm a bad person?" she asked.
"What? Why would you ask me that?"
"Do you?"
He shook his head.
"I realize that I haven't always been the best wife to you. I've asked a lot and expected a lot and I haven't given anything in return."
"Samantha, you haven't asked for anything, okay? Everything I do is because I want to. I don't do it for gratitude or praise or anything like that. I do it because you're my wife and the mother of my kids and I love you. Plain and simple."
"But you do so much and I…"
He held a hand up to silence her. "Look, I know my mom's put all this shit in your head that you take me for granted and you don't appreciate me. But you know what? I've never seen that or experienced it so I don't want you even paying attention to her. She's just a meddling old bitch that needs to mind her own goddamn business. No one is perfect. And no one has the right to judge you or me or the way we take care of our kids."
"I just…I don't know if I've always been the best person for you."
"You have been. You're my everything, Sammie. And don't care about what other people say about you or who likes you. Hell, a lot of people hate me. We can't be universally loved unfortunately."
"I know…" she said and sipped her tea. "Are you ever bored?" she asked. "With your life? Your life with me?"
He frowned. "Don't ever ask me that again," he replied.
"It's just you do so much and I…"
"Samantha, I am not here, in this marriage, because I feel obligated to be. I'm here because I love you and our kids. That's all there is to it. And whoever is putting this crap in your head? About you taking me for granted? They need to seriously fuck off. And you can tell them I said that too."
She grinned. "I love it when you go all cop on me."
He smirked.
"I just needed you to know that I appreciate you," she said. "I appreciate you and everything you do. And I love you beyond words and if anything was to ever happen to you…"
He leaned across the table and silenced her with a kiss.
"No more talking," he said, and reaching across the table, took her hand in his own and held on tightly.
She smiled and went back to the work in front of her
No other word was spoken. They simply sat there in companionable silence. Comfortable with one another.
And with the life they shared.
Thanks to all of those who are reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and everyone of you. Even the lurkers. But please, please, please leave a review folks! Makes my day!
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