It is Maura who makes the call to Tommy to confirm Frank's illness.
"Yeah," he mumbles into the phone. "He told me a couple months ago."
"Months," Maura breathes. "Tommy."
"Don't you start," he says, though she thinks he sounds a little guilty as well.
"I'm not starting anything," she says. "I'm trying to figure out what you could be thinking. How you could do this to your family."
"Pop is my family, Maura. Even if Jane doesn't want anything to do with him."
Maura sits down at the kitchen table, cradling the phone between her ear and shoulder. "Tommy," she scolds. "You know that's not the whole story." She waits, and when he doesn't answer, she sighs. "Is that why you and Lydia fought?"
"She idolizes Jane. She didn't want TJ to know his grandfather, no matter how much he's changed."
"What if he hasn't changed," Maura responds, and she is unsurprised by the Jane-like scoff she gets in response. "I'm not saying he doesn't want to make amends. I'm questioning his motives."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Tommy snaps back, but he doesn't sound as surly as he did before.
"Why now, Tommy?" Maura asks. "Why has he expressed a desire to get to know his extended family now. When the twins were young he had no interest in Isabelle at all. Do you remember that? Why now is he interested in Grandchildren he previously did not care about?"
Tommy pauses for a long moment. "He's sorry," he says finally. "He's changed."
"He's frightened," Maura says firmly. "And so are you."
"What?"
"He's scared that he will die alone. And you are scared that he will die without you getting what you need from him."
Tommy sputters incoherently for a moment before answering, and Maura wonders when in his life anyone has ever spoken to him this honestly.
"And what exactly is it that I need from him, Dr. Know-it-All?"
"I don't know," she says honestly. "I don't know, Tommy, but you'd better figure it out, and fast. Or else you will alienate the family that has stood by you for your entire life in search of something that may not exist. And then you will be alone as well."
"Maura-"
"And that would be a terrible shame." She hangs up before he can say anything else, and then she stands for a moment in the kitchen, her heart pounding hard. And then, because their relationship has evolved miraculously to allow this move, Maura calls Constance.
Her mother picks up on the third ring. "Well?"
"He's not sorry," Maura says, still allowing herself to be amazed that they can speak in this sort of shorthand. "He's not sorry, and Frank really is ill."
"How is your wife?" Constance asks.
"I just got off the phone with him. I haven't gone up to her yet."
Constance makes an indistinct sound.
"Mother?"
"Angela has called to talk several times. She, like her youngest son, is very torn."
"She thought what she did two weeks ago would win her favor with Jane. She thought it was the big reconciliation."
"I attempted to explain to her how it felt to meet you in a hotel and explain that I had kept a very important letter from you," Constance replies. "I attempted to recount how sure I was that it would fix us, and how devastated I was when you became more distant for a time."
Maura allows a brief moment of silence. "Did she understand?"
Constance sighs. "She loves that man, Maura. I do not know the feeling of having to make a choice between your husband and your children."
Maura looks towards the stairs, making sure that no children are around to overhear her. "She is breaking down under this, Mother. This last case, her father, Tommy and Angela. She is breaking."
And Constance does not even hesitate. "Then go," she says at once. "Go and hold your wife together. The way she has always done for you."
…
…
She enters the bedroom to find Jane on her back on their bed, staring up at the ceiling.
"You were talking to Tommy?" It's not really a question.
Maura sits down on the end of the bed and slips out of her shoes. "Yes."
"So, it's true?" Jane's monotone voice still unnerves her more than any other.
"It's true," she says softly, turning to crawl up the bed to lay with her wife. "But he says he kept it from everyone. No one else knew." She means Frankie and Angela, but she doesn't say this.
Jane blinks slowly. Her expression doesn't change.
She gave the Kohut case up two days ago, bringing the box down to the Aged Cases Department herself. They haven't caught another murder yet, and Maura hopes they will get another day or two of rest. Her detective needs it.
"This doesn't change anything," she says against Jane's neck. "This doesn't change anything at all."
Jane's sigh is heavy. "It changes things for Tommy," she says quietly.
"He's...he's lost," Maura says, only half believing the excuse. "He doesn't understand."
Jane shakes her head once against the pillow. "I am tired," she says quietly, "of people who don't understand."
"I understand," she says, moving to put her lips against Jane's neck. "I understand, honey."
She lets Jane unbutton her blouse, lets her work the front clasp on her bra, and threads her hands through the dark, thick curls while lips work over her breasts, her chest, her shoulders and neck.
"God," she breathes. "That feels so good."
"No sex," Jane murmurs. "Just skin."
"Yes," Maura says. "Whatever you want. God. Anything you want."
"I'll never hurt you," against her sternum like a promise. Pressed hard enough to be a threat. Maura tightens her hands in Jane's hair.
"I know," she whispers.
"Skirt," Jane breathes, and while Maura wiggles out of her skirt and underwear, Jane sits up to pull off her t-shirt.
Their intimacy is usually in the dark, usually quick and hot, under blankets at 2:30 in the morning, hands moving quickly, striving for accuracy and release.
But now it is barely 11, and the overhead light is still on, and when Jane is bare chested in front of her, Maura can see the past there like she's been given a history book. She can (she does) reach out and map it, like braille.
Frank. Hoyt. Marino. Hoyt in disguise. Hoyt for the final time. Dominic.
"Maura," Jane's ribcage under her hands, soft breath on her shoulders.
"So powerful," Maura says. "So damn beautiful."
"I'd never hurt you," Jane repeats, but her voice is challenging. She doesn't want Maura to agree.
"I'd never let you," she says, and she pushes the body in front of her, just a little so that they can look each other in the eyes.
Jane's expression hardens, her voice drops. "I'd never hurt our children," she says.
Maura allows herself to imagine anything harming her children. She nearly bares her teeth. "I'd never let you," she snarls.
She is not surprised by the hand at the base of her throat. She does not panic when it tightens.
"You'd never hurt me," she says evenly, and she wraps both her hands around Jane's wrist, tight enough that Jane's eyes flicker downwards for the space of a second. "I'd never let you."
And Jane lets herself drop, boneless, on top of her wife. She's not crying, just breathing deeply. Just holding on tightly to the one thing that is as strong as she is.
"Pants," Maura murmurs, and Jane lifts her hips so Maura can help her slide out of her sweats.
"No sex," she murmurs, as Jane tucks herself against her side. "Just skin."
Jane growls.
….
…..
When Isabelle leads McKenzie into the Rec Room of Greenfield Psychiatric, she stares around at them all with wide eyes. Maura sees her hand shoot out towards Isabelle, an involuntary request for comfort that Isabelle answers immediately.
"Happy Birthday!" Noah, Levi, Sofia chorus together. They are all wearing little, pointy party hats (Noah had insisted), and Noah and Sofia are waving kazoos. McKenzie blinks at them, some of her immediate fear melting into detached curiosity.
"What are you all doing here?" she asks, as though the 'Happy Birthday,' was not meant for her.
"It's your birthday today, sweetheart," Jane says, "We came up to help you celebrate."
Isabelle squeezes McKenzie's hand. "We all came for your birthday!" she says happily. "To surprise you!" her smile slips a little when McKenzie doesn't immediately answer. "Is it an okay surprise, Kenzie? Remember last month...you said you weren't expecting to do anything?"
Maura watches as McKenzie looks at Isabelle, and her face breaks open into one of gentle tenderness. She doesn't think she's ever seen anything so sweet. "It's a great surprise, Bella," she says quietly, though when she looks around at all of them, it is still with a slightly confused expression. "It's really good to see all of you. I...can't believe you came to see me."
So far it has only been Maura and Isabelle who have made the drive to see McKenzie, although twice Jane has sent long, handwritten letters in sealed envelopes. Maura has never opened these beforehand, and she hasn't told Isabelle about them either. She thinks she made the right decision, as she watches McKenzie studying Jane.
Sofia steps forward, holding out a party hat to McKenzie. "There's cake," She says. "Bella said that your favorite ice cream was strawberry, so there's some of that too."
"Some," Jane says with a laugh, "we brought enough ice cream and cake to sink a ship." She steps forward and holds out her arms, and after a moment, McKenzie steps into them for a hug. "Happy birthday, kiddo," Jane says softly.
McKenzie pulls back. "You got off work to come out here." She says, and it is more of a statement than it is a question.
Jane grins. "Anywhere there's cake," she says giving the teen a playful nudge.
"Do you want to open your presents, Kenz?" Noah asks hopefully, and Levi gives his little brother a smack on the back of the head.
"He just wants to see what everyone got you," Levi explains.
"Oh," McKenzie looks genuinely apologetic as she steps away from Jane and holds out her hands. "I'm sorry," she says. "I didn't get any presents. I don't have anything to open."
For a moment there is silence, as the other kids in the room digest this heartbreaking attitude. Noah looks so stunned that Maura thinks he might insist on going home and retrieving some of his own things to give her. She steps forward, holding up the large tote bag that's been over her shoulder.
"No, darling," she says gently. "Noah means the presents we brought you. We all got you a little something. Would you like to open those?"
McKenzie stares at her. "What?"
"We brought you gifts," Levi says, and his voice is harsh, like his mother's, when he is emotional. McKenzie doesn't look at him. "We brought you birthday presents," he tries again.
"Yeah," Sofia chimes in. "And we brought games, and a movie, and a soccer ball to play outside."
"Games?" McKenzie asks.
"Pin the tail on the donkey!" Noah says excitedly.
McKenzie's eyes widen. "Pin the…" she looks at Isabelle. "A donkey?"
Bella smiles. "Not a real one," she says quietly. "Just a game."
Maura's chest aches a little. Jane throws her a knowing look over the heads of their children.
"I-I might have to go to group." McKenzie says. "The days here are pretty scheduled out."
"Not today," Maura says, moving to the big table in the middle of the room, beginning to unpack the presents and the board games, the extra party hats and kazoos. "I called ahead, Kenzie, and cleared everything with the director. You are ours for the day."
McKenzie looks at Isabelle. "The whole day?" like she hardly dares to believe it.
Isabelle leans forward and kisses her cheek. She nods, her smile so wide it looks a little painful. "The whole entire day."
….
"Thank you," McKenzie says quietly.
"For what?" Maura asks. They have found a moment alone, or rather, Maura has finagled this moment alone, promising Isabelle that she would take all of the others outside and give them some alone time if she could be granted this five minutes of check in.
McKenzie looks around the rec room. "For getting everyone to come here today. For making them stay the whole day and acting like...it was normal. I've never had a birthday as good as this one."
Maura looks over to where Levi and Sofia sit, engaged in their chess game. "I didn't force any of my children to come here, McKenzie," she says finally. "You know I couldn't force Sofia and Levi to do something they don't want to do."
She watches McKenzie consider this.
"It's not just Isabelle who cares about you," Maura reminds her. "Unfortunately, you're stuck with the whole Rizzoli-Isles clan now."
"That's what Jane said," McKenzie says with a faint smile. "In one of her letters."
"It wasn't just talk," Maura says.
"I see that now," McKenzie says. She frowns. "Isabelle was always telling me that you and Jane keep your promises. I didn't believe her. She said you'd bring her to visit. I didn't believe her. I tried to break up with her."
Maura has to bite her tongue to keep from replying.
"She came to visit anyway," McKenzie says. "She said she'd be my friend if that's all I wanted."
Maura smiles. "That sounds comforting," she says. "I'm glad she allowed you the space you wanted."
"She did all this for me," McKenzie says. "She...you…" but she breaks off, seemingly too overwhelmed to speak.
Maura doesn't press her, but she puts her hand on her shoulder and gives it a little squeeze. "You're a wonderful, smart girl," she says quietly. "And my daughter knows she is lucky to have you in her life."
McKenzie doesn't answer. She looks up at Maura, and then away, like she's embarrassed.
Isabelle, who seems to have been counting down the seconds of the five minutes she allotted her mother, appears at that moment, a small wrapped box in her hands.
"You didn't open my present yet, Kenz," she says shyly.
Maura steps away as McKenzie rips the wrapping off of a little metal gyroscope, still in its plastic box, but she is still close enough to hear Isabelle's stuttered explanation.
"It...it's a gyroscope," she says. "It - you wrap that string around it and then you pull it and it spins, sort of like- sort of like a top. But, unlike a top, you can pick it up and tilt it, and even turn it upside down." Bella stops, gathering herself, and Maura smiles because she knows her daughter and she knows where this is going.
"It's like you," Isabelle says. "You've got this whole, amazing, secret world in the middle of you. And its still there, no matter how tilted or upside down you feel. No one can stop the...the beautiful way you spin."
And for a moment, McKenzie just stares at her present. For a shimmering, terrifying second, Isabelle looks frozen with fear.
But then McKenzie laughs. She throws her head back, and she laughs, and then she leans forward and she kisses Isabelle on the lips. Right there in the rec room, in front of all of them.
Noah covers his eyes, and Levi rolls his. Sofia looks away, bright red.
Jane smiles at Maura, shaking her head.
Maura puts her hands over her heart.
…
They get home just before dinner, and as they climb out of the car, Jane calls to the kids that she's going to order a pizza.
"Can I go out?" Levi asks. "Some of the guys are getting together downtown."
"Just some of the guys?" Maura asks, pulling Isabelle to her as she passes by.
"And some girls."
"And Nadia?" Maura presses.
"And Nadia," Levi says, fighting a grin.
Jane pauses at the door of the garage and looks around. "Lee," she says tiredly. "Your mother and I are going to have to meet this girl at some point. You understand that, right?"
Levi sighs heavily. "Maaa. I thought we talked about-"
"It's been, what, a couple months now?" She waits for Levi to nod. "So, relatively serious. You cannot keep her from your family forever, iffy past or no."
"Why not," Levi mutters, and though he thinks that he's been quiet enough not to be heard, Jane turns from the door, eyes flashing.
"Because that's not the way we work," she says firmly, and before Levi can answer, she stalks through the door.
Levi looks to Maura, eyebrows raised. She shakes her head, squeezing Isabelle and kissing the top of her head. "Your mother is right," she says gently. "Now go on, get going. Be mindful of your curfew."
Levi only hesitates for a moment before turning and heading towards the street with a little nod.
"Lee," Isabelle calls, and when he turns, she kisses her first two fingers and holds them out to her brother. "Thank you," she says. "For today. It meant a lot to her. To me."
Maura wishes more than anything that Jane had stayed to see this interaction between their children.
Levis smiles back. "Love you, sis," he says, before turning again and ambling off in the direction of the T.
Maura has not yet let go of Isabelle. She kisses the top of her head. "I love you so much, Bella. Have I told you that lately?"
Isabelle leans into the hug like a much younger girl, and Maura is glad she's made good on her promise to be more affectionate. "Only like, every other day, Mommy," Isabelle says into her sweater. When she pulls back, though, she is serious. "I hate seeing her there," she says quietly.
"I know, darling."
Isabelle bites her lip. "Can I ask you something?"
"Anything at all."
"Did…did you and Mama ever, like, not fit?" Isabelle looks up into her mother's face, hopeful and worried and embarrassed. "Did you ever think it just…did you ever doubt?"
Maura can't help her laugh. She hugs her daughter again, hard. "You don't want to watch the baseball game with Mama and Sofia, do you?" she asks, laughing again when Isabelle wrinkles her nose. "That's what I thought," she says. "So come into the kitchen with me, and I will tell about the first ten times I was sure that your mother and I wouldn't make it. Okay?"
Isabelle smiles faintly. "The first ten? How many are there?"
Maura smiles. "At least a hundred," she says. "But they all have happy endings."
…
Frankie comes.
Maura pulls the door open, big smile on her face. "Frankie," she says. "I'm...so, so glad you decided to come."
It's normal for him to come over on Saturday nights, to watch whatever sport happens to be in season, split a six pack with Jane and play wrestle with Noah and Sofia. It's become almost as much of a tradition as Family Dinners on the last Sunday of each month.
Frankie holds up the six pack of Sam Adams like it is the toll he has to pay to enter the front hall. He looks relieved at her reception.
"Tommy called," he says without preamble. "Maura, I swear I didn't know."
She nods ushering him past her. "I know," she says. "And Jane knows too."
"Has she said-"
Maura shakes her head. "She hasn't said anything about it...I don't think she really knows what to say."
"And…" Frankie looks at her hopefully. "What should I say?"
Maura considers this. "Well, what do you normally say when you come over for the game?"
Frankie shrugs. "I grab her a beer, toss Noah in the air and tell her I'm pretty sure that this year will be our year."
Maura smiles. "So do that then," Maura urges. "Don't bring it up unless she does."
Frankie looks unsure. "I just want her to know that I didn't have anything to do-" But he breaks off abruptly, looking over Maura's shoulder, and the doctor turns to see Jane standing there.
For a moment, the three of them just stand there, not speaking. And then Noah appears at the top of the stairs, his excited voice carrying down to them.
"Is it Uncle Frankie?" he calls excitedly. "Is it game time?"
Jane doesn't take her eyes off her brother, but she calls back to her son, and her voice sounds light and easy. "Yeah! Uncle Frankie's here. Get your sister and c'mon down!"
"Yipee!" Noah yells.
Jane nearly grins. "Yipee," she echoes, and she heads towards the TV room, calling over her shoulder, "crack two of those for me, little brother."
Maura has never seen Frankie smile so widely.
She watches them settle together on the couch, Noah, Frankie, Jane, Sofia, and as her son reaches to turn the channel to the correct station, Jane puts her hand briefly on the back of Frankie's neck.
"Jane," he begins, but she shakes her head.
"Forget it."
"I didn't know."
"Forget it, Frankie."
He grins at her, and she rolls her eyes, and Maura turns away smiling. There is still Angela to deal with. There is still Tommy and Lydia and TJ and Frank.
There is still the Kohut case, a copy of the file hidden in the study where Jane thinks Maura won't look.
There is still the possibility that they could get called out to a murder scene.
But at the moment, Maura takes comfort in the fact that her detective is smiling, drinking a beer and wrapping an arm around her daughter as she yells at the TV.
Right in that moment, Maura holds on to the knowledge that she can make the immediate space around them safe.
For the time being, it is enough.