Chapter Seven
Jane hadn't spent this much time in front of a mirror since her recovery from her bullet wound, when she'd spent the majority of her month at home examining the scar on her stomach. Tonight, however, she had redone her makeup twice, and even attempted to pin her hair up with a dainty looking hair clip she'd found strewn in a drawer. She'd only abandoned the idea after realizing that the silver piece of decoupage was Maura's. In the end, she let her hair fall over her shoulders and stuck the clip in her purse.
With one final look in the mirror, she decided she couldn't do much better than the new emerald green dress she had bought, and she exhaled slowly, blowing a rogue strand of hair out of her eyes. Her nerves surprised her. After all, it was just Maura, the same socially awkward medical examiner she'd shared a meal with on many occasions. Tonight, however, was a far cry from their usual digs at The Dirty Robber.
She glanced at her watch, unsurprised that she was already running late. Caring what the other person thought actually took time and effort. When was the last time she'd spent more than fifteen minutes getting ready for a date? With a salute at Jo Friday, she was out the door as fast as her heels would let her go, speeding toward Maura's house, thankful once again that her badge insulated her from the traffic laws she was violating.
Walking up to Maura's front door, rather than the back, and actually ringing the bell, rather than simply barging inside, felt awkwardly formal, but she smoothed out her dress and took a step back, waiting patiently. If the butterflies in her stomach had just come alive back at her apartment, they turned into a full-fledged swarm when Maura swung open the door. The blonde had on a dress that Jane hadn't seen before, but that didn't mean much, judging by the cavernous size of her closet. Whether it was new or old, it fit her like a glove.
Maura seemed just as impressed by Jane's own attire, and she gushed approvingly. "Whoa," she said, clearly surprised. "That's a beautiful dress, Jane."
Luckily, the darkening sky hid the appreciative flush that Jane was sure was creeping into her cheeks. "Thanks," she said, in a tone that she hoped was casual.
"No, really," Maura said, reaching out and fingering the fabric along Jane's waist. "Is this a Kors? The stitching is very Kors." Her hand continued stroking upward, and Jane reached quickly for it, halting it in its path.
"Whoa, whoa, I don't know, Heidi Klum," she said with an embarrassed smile. "But I'm glad you like it."
"I'll say," Maura said, stepping out onto the stoop and locking the door behind her. "We look like we're prepared to break a few hearts tonight." She leaned up, kissing Jane quickly on the cheek. "Where are our reservations?"
"Good try, Sherlock," Jane said, wagging a finger at her. "That dress you're wearing will get you pretty much anything, but it won't get you an answer to that. You'll see once we get there."
"I bet I can guess," Maura pressed, following Jane toward the car.
"No guessing," Jane replied with a roll of her eyes. Maura was beautiful, but the girl never shut her brain off. Ever. "Just sit back and enjoy the mystery."
"Fine," Maura sighed. "As long as it isn't Pura Vida. The tapas there are terrible."
Jane's head shot up as she opened the passenger door, her jaw involuntarily dropping in exasperation. As far as she knew, Pura Vida had the best reviews in the city, which is why she had chosen it in the first place. "What do you mean, terrible?" she asked, attempting to keep her voice uninhibited. There was no need to panic just yet. She could manage to come up with something just as suitable. Something completely last minute. She let out an inward sigh, the night already going downhill, but she caught a telltale twitch at the corner of Maura's mouth. "Are you joking?" she asked, slightly accusatory.
Maura's lip twitched further, and she let out a small chuckle. "Yes."
"How'd you know that's where I chose?"
"I saw the site pulled up on your computer when I was searching your desk for those chocolates this morning."
Jane rolled her eyes, but let out a relieved sigh. "Okay, number one, get your own chocolate - you've got an entire dead fridge to keep it in. Second, you're going to pretend to be surprised when we get there."
Maura looked up at with large, innocent eyes. "Isn't that like lying?" She grinned, pleased with herself, and Jane couldn't help but laugh as she shut the passenger door and rounded the car. Without even trying, Maura had managed to calm the butterflies in her stomach, so that now they were merely a pleasurable flutter.
Once they made it to the restaurant, Jane's mood eased even further. She had to admit, she chose the hell out of a restaurant. Low lighting, patrons that oozed money from their pores, but a sensible, helpful waiter that hadn't judged her when she deferred to him for the right bottle of wine. Maura seemed pleasant, but just slightly distracted. Whether it was the unfamiliarity of their first date or the distraction of Hope's impending visit, she couldn't tell.
Maura had shied away from talking about her mother, and only briefly summarized her father's dinner visit the night before, opting instead to keep things light. Jane was more than happy to provide a distraction for the evening, especially seeing as how Maura seemed to be enjoying the reprieve from real life. But she didn't want their date, this decision for them to explore something further, to be a mere diversion. They were taking a risk, a big risk, and she wanted Maura to be absolutely certain that she was ready for whatever it was they were embarking on.
Jane kept those thoughts at bay, however, instead keeping up their usual banter. "It's been awhile since I've been on a date with a woman," she said thoughtfully, determining whether to spoon another serving of ceviche onto her plate. When Maura remained silent, she glanced up at her. "What about you?" she asked suspiciously. Maura kept her head angled toward her plate, causing Jane to intensify her stare. "Maura?"
The blonde cleared her throat, tossing a sideways glance at the table next to them. "Remember that night we switched clothes?"
"Yes," Jane said slowly. She had managed to bungle a dinner with a potential suspect from Boston's rival major league while Maura had managed to get hit on by several women. How could she forget? "Aw, Maura, really?" she asked with a disappointed wine. "That night?"
"No, not that night, but I did go out with one of them a few nights later."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"There was nothing to tell," Maura replied innocently, leaning into her. "Trust me. And you had a lot going on that week."
"Apparently not as much as you," Jane murmured, finally opting for the ceviche, but she hid a smile as she shoved a forkful into her mouth.
"I can't believe we drank this entire bottle of wine," Maura said, tipping the bottle into the light. "It's going to go straight to our bloodstream. Seafood doesn't exactly soak up the toxins."
"Ease up, McGruff," Jane replied, placing her own glass to her lips. She may have done her part in keeping up their usual banter, but the closer the meal came to a close, the more the butterflies in her stomach were kicking in, and she was sure she'd be downing whatever was left of the wine. "We're walking to our next location."
Maura's eyes brightened. "Our next location? What's our next location?"
Jane grinned, enjoying the genuine smile that lit up Maura's face. She hadn't planned a second stop until she heard a fellow detective mention a small, dessert bar a few blocks from the restaurant. She had never heard of it, but this particular cop was clean-cut, respectable, and had never once come onto her, so she trusted his opinion. He was Italian, too, and that never hurt, especially when determining good tiramisu. "Just save room for dessert," she said, offering nothing further.
"Technically, there's no need to 'save room for dessert'," Maura said. "Sugar has no effect on satiety. It's more a trick of the orbitofrontal cortex." She only broke her diatribe when the waiter brought the check, reaching into her purse for her wallet, but Jane quickly shook her head, reaching out and stilling her hand.
"As much as it may not feel like it," she said, glancing at her. "This is a date. Dinner is on me."
Maura looked at her, surprised. "It feels like a date to me," she countered. "A very good one, which doesn't happen all that often, I suppose. But a date, nonetheless." The words put Jane at ease, settling some of the doubt she'd harbored about their evening, and she was pleasantly surprised when Maura leaned over, placing a chaste kiss on her cheek. "Thank you for dinner," she said politely, but Jane caught a mischievous glint in her eye that went straight to her pelvis.
"Time to test out these heels," she said by way of distraction. She stood, holding her hand out to Maura. "The restaurant is only a few blocks away. Are you okay walking in those?" she said, eyeing the blonde's heels, which were higher than anything Jane had ever dared to wear.
Maura tossed her hair, and gave her quick up and down. "Please," she said with a smirk. "I'm a professional."
Jane grinned and held the door open for Maura, taking a chance and placing her hand on the small of her back as they exited into the cool night air, a slight, wet breeze raising goosebumps along her skin. They had only made it a couple of blocks before the rain began, landing on their shoulders in large, lazy drops. Jane, having learned her lesson from their ruined picnic, heroically plucked a compact umbrella from her purse. Granted, she had stolen it from beside Korsak's desk that afternoon, but who cared. At least she was prepared.
She flipped it open, but rather than stop at its usual umbrella-shaped point, the black canvas inverted on itself with a loud snap, which prompted and even louder groan from Jane. "Are you kidding me?" she asked, looking up at the contraption, which was offering no protection from the increasingly frequent drops.
Maura pulled her pashmina from her bare shoulders, holding it over her head, and glanced at Jane. "How comfortable are you with running in heels?" she asked.
Before Jane could respond, Maura pranced off, clicking daintily along the sidewalk, and dodging those more respectable Bostonians who had working umbrellas. Jane followed her, teetering slightly in her shoes. "Did I mention that I'm not comfortable running in heels?" she called, as she worked to catch up, her longer legs her only saving grace.
By the time they made it to their destination, taking refuge under the small red awning in front of the door, Jane was out of breath, mostly because she had been inadvertently holding it in for fear of toppling into a puddle. "Sheesh," she said, her skin now slickly wet.
"Uh, Jane," Maura said slowly. "When's the last time you were here?"
"What?" Jane asked, looking up at the restaurant and for the first time noticing the boarded up windows, and the "FOR LEASE" sign in the front window. "What?" she repeated, edging to the front door, but it was waxed over, completely blacking out the interior. The only explanation she got was a small note in the front window that read "Bertolli's is now closed." "What?" she said, louder this time. "You've got to be kidding me!" She emphasized her outrage by banging the broken umbrella into the door. "They are supposed to have the best tiramisu in Boston!"
"Not anymore," Maura said tentatively, a smile edging her lips. Her mouth quickly broadened into a grin, and Jane turned, helplessly, watching as she let out a small laugh that grew into a tirade of giggles.
"Maura, this isn't funny," she said, the useless umbrella hanging by her side.
"Yes it is," she argued, her words punctuated with mirthful hiccups.
"How is this funny?" Jane challenged, her romantic plan washing away with the rain that continued to fall over the small awning. "We walked all this way with a busted umbrella, to enjoy Boston's finest tiramisu, only to see that apparently it wasn't Boston's finest tiramisu, otherwise it might still be open!" As the words echoed back to her, she couldn't help but mirror Maura's grin, and the laugh that bubbled from her throat made any residual anger she had disappear completely. "What are we going to do about dessert?" she asked, still chuckling. "It was all a part of my plan."
Maura took a step closer, her face still lit up from her grin, and pushed a strand of wet hair out of Jane's eyes. "What did you have planned after dessert?" she asked.
Both their smiles faded as the question permeated the air around them and Jane felt her familiar nerves return to her, but this time they were accompanied by something more pleasurable in the pit of her stomach. She hadn't allowed herself to think past dinner, still concerned that they were rushing into something that neither of them were ready for, but before she could offer a response, Maura's lips were on hers.
The smell of rain mixed with the blonde's usual pomegranate scent, and Jane leaned forward, cupping her hand along the back of Maura's neck in order to taste more of it. When they finally broke apart, Jane had her answer ready: "Change of plans. We're doing dessert at my place."
If she had been thinking clearly, she would have remembered that her refrigerator and freezer were as bare as a frat boy's, but Maura's lips had rendered her brain absolutely useless. Which was why, as Maura towel-dried her hair in the bathroom, Jane was desperately searching her kitchen for something that remotely resembled dessert.
She heard Maura's footsteps padding along the hardwood floor, both of them having abandoned their heels by the apartment door when they'd arrived, a little damp and worse for wear, but still giggling like a couple of schoolgirls. Maura's damp hair was tousled when she appeared, but she was still a picture of perfection, and Jane couldn't help but smile as she motioned toward the plate she had set on the counter.
"What is that?" Maura asked, looking perplexedly down at it.
"It's a fudge bar," she replied, with a flourish of her hand. "The best in Boston, I might add."
Maura laughed, walking over to it and bending closer to examine it, the same posture Jane had seen her adopt with a toxic specimen. "It does look decadent," she offered, uncertainly.
"All the decadence, half the calories," Jane replied, pointing to the abandoned packaging on the counter. "Thank you, Skinny Cow."
"You're a skinny cow," Maura mumbled with a grin, watching as Jane cut into the bar with a knife and fork.
"Here, taste that," Jane said, passing the fork over to her. Maura took a bite, her face slack, at first, but then giving a satisfied purse of her lips. "Mmm," she said thoughtfully, cocking her head. "Is that sucralose?"
Jane shrugged. "It's best if you don't ask."
Maura nodded, licking the edge of her lip. "Give me another bite," she said, inching closer to the dessert and edging Jane out of the way, her damp skin pressing against her. Jane thought about giving her some space, but instead leaned in to her, enjoying the closeness. She was just about to press her lips against the back of the blonde's shoulder when Maura abandoned the knife and fork, picking the bar up by its rightful wooden stick, and turned to face Jane, offering her a bite.
"I'm sorry your dessert is a frozen fudge bar," Jane said with a full mouth and an apologetic frown.
"I'm not," Maura replied, taking another bite. "It's quite good."
Jane cocked her head at her with a hint of a saccharine smile. "And good for you, apparently," she said.
Maura shook her head. "Actually, studies on zero calorie sweeteners are inconclusive at best," she said. "And most of them are funded by the larger food companies, not by traditional research institutions, so the data can at times be quite biased. That said, maybe – "
Jane loved Maura's anecdotes, she truly did, but this time she didn't allowed her to finish, instead plucking the ice cream from her fingers and tossing it casually into the sink. Before Maura could protest, Jane bent down and silenced her with a kiss, deepening it quickly, relishing the taste of chocolate on her tongue. If Maura was surprised, she acclimated swiftly, bracing herself against the counter before wrapping her arms around Jane, attempting to pull her closer. She let out a frustrated sigh as Jane leaned away, breaking the kiss with a few breathless words. "I hadn't planned this far ahead," she said.
"I did," Maura replied, capably slipping the strap of Jane's dress from her shoulder and pressing a light kiss against her cool skin, which was only just beginning to heat up. She kissed along her collarbone, up to her neck, finding a sensitive spot near her ear, one that no one had managed to find in quite awhile. This time, it was Jane's turn to brace herself against the counter.
Eventually her hands found their way over the curve of Maura's hips and to her backside, where she couldn't help but cup the flesh there as she moved to reclaim the shorter woman's lips. After a few moments, Maura pushed her away slightly, but only to take her hand and led her over to the couch. It didn't take much effort for her to pull Jane on top of her, the space between their bodies nonexistent as they melted into one another. Jane sighed into the crook of Maura's neck as she straddled her waist, feeling her dress hike dangerously up her thighs.
Maura's hands caressed her hips, her tongue dueling against Jane's own with a forceful need. It was that need, coupled with a wanton moan and the writhing of her hips that caused Jane to open her eyes, wanting to connect with the woman beneath her. It was that brief flicker of connection, of unbridled, need in Maura's eyes that caused a flash of doubt to flicker through Jane, dousing a sense of coldness across the heat of her body. Maura seemed to sense her hesitation, and her half-closed eyes widened in concern. "What's wrong?" she whispered.
Articulating what was wrong required a vocal ability that Jane didn't have at the moment, and she worked on steadying her breath, raising herself on her hands. She had imagined such a night with Maura for awhile now, but hadn't counted on all the other stuff that had seemed to drive them together. They needed each other more than ever, but for what reasons? For some sort of distraction? She rose on her knees, tucking them underneath her. "Maura, don't you think we should slow down?"
The look that flashed through Maura's eyes was more than just confusion. It was hurt, and even though Jane had uttered the words, those eyes railed into her like a punch in her gut, and she backtracked. "I just mean, what with everything that has happened... and is still happening..." She was struggling, and Maura's eyes weren't helping her be more eloquent. If anything, they were leaching every sound thought from her brain. "I just want us to do this when we're ready," she said. "Not because everything around us has gone to shit."
Eloquence gone. Maura pushed her back slightly, edging her own legs over the couch and back to the floor, as if physically and mentally grounding herself. "I'm not doing this because I'm confused," she said, keeping her eyes ahead of her, staring at the scattered magazines on the coffee table. "Don't put emotions into my head, Jane."
Jane watched her helplessly. She had a point. All this time she had been concerned about why Maura was ready to go forward. But maybe that was merely an excuse. She had already hurt Maura, more than she ever thought she could, and she wasn't about to do anything that might hurt her again. Maybe it was herself that she didn't quite trust.
"I should go," Maura said, standing, smoothing her dress.
"No, no," Jane said, bounding quickly off the couch, less ladylike than she would have preferred, stumbling towards her. "You can't leave just because I'm not saying anything right." She stood in front of the smaller woman, blocking her way to the door. "You are one of the most important people in my life, Maura," she said, hoping she could pry her foot out of her mouth. "And someone who I have fallen completely, head over toe-pinching heels in love with... and I want this - " she gestured toward the couch - "I want this to mean something. I can't explain why, because my body is screaming at my brain right about now, but I think we should wait."
"Sex is physiological action that can help cope with stress," Maura responded, but it was without her usual scientific certainty.
"Okay, I'm not ready to argue science with you," Jane said with a slight, smile, hoping that by reverting back to her usual self, her words were at least hitting home. "I can only argue what I'm feeling. And I think you've got enough on your plate right now."
Maura sighed, pressing a hand to her temple. "I know I haven't been myself," she offered, weighing her words in a manner that was unfamiliar. "But, when I'm with you, Jane, everything else seems to melt away." Her eyes flashed upwards with a sudden, devastating recognition and she nodded slowly. "And I guess that's your point," she said sadly.
"I'm glad I have that ability to melt everything around you," Jane replied with a smile. "But that's not necessarily the superpower that I want to have... I want to help you through all of this... not just make you forget about it."
Maura nodded, pursing her lips and swallowing, but Jane saw a tinge of loneliness in her eyes. "You're right," she said. "This isn't fair to you." Again, Jane saw the same sense of abandonment in Maura's forlorn brow, and she reached out to her, pulling her towards her. "I'm sorry," Maura breathed, the words getting lost in Jane's shoulder. She couldn't be certain whether she felt tears or just leftover dampness from the rain, but Jane pulled her in tighter, pressing a kiss against her hair.
When Maura finally pulled back, Jane leaned in and took her lips in a light, lingering kiss, just long enough to recall their earlier heat, but not going any further. "Look, why don't you sleep here tonight," she offered. Even without the sex, she wanted Maura close to her.
"No," Maura said, shaking her head. "No, I should go." She glanced up with a placating smile. "It's fine, Jane. We're fine. I promise."
"You don't have to leave, Maura. I want you to stay. There's no reason we can't just..." she glanced back at the couch. "Do more of that..."
Maura followed her gaze, and her lips curled into a small smile, but there was still sadness behind her eyes. "I should go," she said again. "But for what it's worth, I really had a great time with you tonight. I always have a great time with you."
"Yeah, that tiramisu was the best part, wasn't it?" Jane said, wanting to drag a sincere smile from Maura. Her sarcasm worked, and Maura rewarded her with what seemed to be a genuine laugh.
"Best tiramisu in Boston," she confirmed.
"That's what they say." Jane opened her arms, pulling Maura in close to her once again. "For what it's worth," she whispered, "I can't actually wait that long..."
The words drew Maura closer to her, and she reached up and took Jane's lips again, this time with a slower, gentler heat, nibbling at her bottom lip before pulling away. And with that, the blonde slipped out of her apartment. Jane stared at the door, the space around her suddenly too empty, and she headed towards her freezer, pulling out another fudge bar. Sloppy seconds, of course, but it would have to do. At least for tonight.
Maura sat in a cab, the moon bright outside her car windshield as it headed slowly back toward home. Somewhere along the drive, her tears had started, and she had only just managed to control them, at first employing a meditative tool, but when that didn't work, skipping straight to self-hatred.
She had no reason to feel upset, slighted, or anything of the sort, but she still cursed her own timing. How long had she wanted to feel Jane that close to her? She had imagined it many times over, but had never expected every cell in her body to buzz the way it had when Jane's touch ran over her. But Jane had spied her vulnerability from a mile away, and Maura couldn't blame her for taking a step back. Jane had always been the responsible one when it came to moving prudently within a relationship. Maura may be logical, but Jane was the sensible one.
She should have reiterated to Jane her feelings. She should have stayed and enjoyed their closeness, but instead she had left, preferring to wrap herself in loneliness instead. Where was her rationality now?
She sighed, plucking cash out of her wallet, stepping out of the car and slamming it loudly, the mere act releasing some of her pent-up frustration. As the cab meandered down her street, a pair of headlights turned toward the driveway, heading towards her. She squinted, recognizing Angela's car, and she glanced down at her watch. It wasn't incredibly late, but it was definitely past the Bill O'Reilly hour.
The car came to a squeaky halt, a reminder that Maura should probably check the woman's break fluid, and Angela stepped out, glancing curiously at her. "I didn't expect to see you here," she said, taking a few steps over to her. "Despite it being your house and all."
"Jane and I had dinner," Maura replied, preferring to keep the truth as uncomplicated as possible, at least for the moment. "You're out late tonight."
"Yeah," Angela said, with a tired nod. "I'm coming back from bowling night."
"Ah," Maura said with a nod, taking in her orange and green bowling shirt and her bright, sparkly shoes glared under the moonlight. "Wow, those are something," she said, pointing down to them and skirting a lie. "Are those lucky shoes?"
Angela glanced down at them, nodding. "Pretty lucky. I bowl a two hundred every time I wear them. Of course, I lose some sequins each week, but it's worth it. I've had them for years, back when Jane's father and I used to be in a bowling league. They're the only thing from those years that still fit," she said with a chuckle.
Maura's polite laugh didn't seem to fool Angela, although she was pretty sure her smeared mascara gave her away. "You all right?" the older woman asked. "It's okay if you tell me I'm prying, Jane does it all the time."
Maura wiped a hand across the bottom of her eyes, hoping she wasn't exaggerating the raccoon eyes she'd probably developed on the way home. "I'm fine," she said with what she hoped was a convincing nod.
"Did Jane make you cry?" Angela asked, her brow furrowing.
"No, no," Maura said, suddenly embarrassed, but chuckling nonetheless at the absurdity of her current situation. She rarely talked to her own parents, much less the parents of the people she dated. "We had a wonderful time."
Angela nodded. "I'm guessing those are remnants of happy tears, then?"
Maura took stock of the woman in front of her, the kind eyes and cocked, attentive gaze. "Angela, Jane and I had a date tonight," she explained, although she was pretty certain Jane's mother had a way of knowing these things ahead of time.
"Don't worry," Angela said, putting her hands up defensively. "I'm not saying a word to anyone."
"No," Maura said, shaking her head, feeling the familiar increase of her heart rate that came with awkward conversations. "I mean, thank you. But – I think – Jane wants to take things slow and – Jane and I aren't sleeping with each other. Not yet." Even under the moonlight, she was certain her cheeks were resembling the shade of a beet, and she put her hands over her face, horrified by her revelation. "I'm so sorry," she mumbled. "I think my melatonin levels are completely off balance."
"Well," Angela said slowly, exhaling, and Maura was afraid to look up at her. "Then I guess there's nothing for me to tell, then, is there?"
Maura slipped her hands from her face, but she was reluctant to look Angela in the eye. When she did, she saw only kindness and a slight perplexity. "I'm sorry," she said again. "I'm meeting my biological mother tomorrow, and - " again, she felt her face reddening - "and I think its affecting my normal social inhibitors."
This time, Angela's eyes looked back at her with concern. Still no judgment. Had she ever seen Angela Rizzoli look at anyone with judgment?
"Well, now that's a big deal," Angela replied, setting her bowling bag on the ground beside her. "You looking forward to meeting her?"
Maura didn't know whether to nod or to shake her head, so instead she shrugged helplessly. "I don't know." There was a familiar burn behind her eyes, and she turned her head to the ground, focusing on the glare of Angela's shoes.
The shoes took a step towards her, and she felt Angela's hand on hers, giving it a quick squeeze. "Well, it sounds like the last thing you need is another mother," she said, with a comforting lilt in her voice. "But can I share something with you?"
Maura nodded, finally moving her gaze back to Angela's.
"You can pine the past all you want for answers and perspective, and all sorts of things, but at the end of the day, all you got is you and the people around you. Family, friends, turtles, whoever. At the end of it all, you decide who you need in your life. As a parent, I trust my kids to do that. You just trust yourself to do it, too, sweetheart, you got it?"
Angela blurred in front of her, and she nodded, again averting her eyes. "What if you need them and they don't need you?" She couldn't see Angela clearly, but she saw her move towards her, enveloping her in a comforting, practiced hug that seemed to come naturally to good mothers. Her shoulders were rigid at first, the matronly move unfamiliar to her, but she eventually relaxed, enjoying the comfort.
"You underestimate yourself, Maura," Angela said, pulling back slightly and giving her an encouraging smile. "And you may be underestimating your parents, too. Just give 'em a shot."
"Thank you," Maura said, again wiping a finger under her eyes. "I'm sorry to fall apart on you like this." She paused, and only because there was no way she could further humiliate herself, continued. "Jane's lucky to have you."
Angela patted her arm. "You just make sure to tell her that every day, okay?" she said with a chuckle. "Now go inside and get some rest." Her eyes changed, and she studied Maura for a moment, as if evaluating whether to offer one last piece of advice. "And remember, Jane's ego isn't the only thing that bruises easily. I have never seen her as devastated as the past few weeks, and I know that's because you're one of the most important people in her life. So if she's handling this whole courtship with kid gloves, it's because she's afraid of losing you." She bent down to pick up her bowling bag. "Of course, you never heard that from me."
Maura watched her amble toward the guest house, turning once to give her a wave and a smile before she closed the door behind her. However she had ended up with this particularly quirky cast of characters around her, she knew that whatever happened with her parents, or with Emily the next day, she would always have a family to fall back on.