SAILING INTO UNCHARTED WATERS
Chapter Seven
Several weeks later…
"Shit," muttered John when the "A" key on his typewriter jammed yet again.
For the last twenty minutes he'd been intermittently cursing under his breath. He was trying to complete the report on the collar he'd made earlier in the day. The report should have taken ten minutes at best, but the faulty equipment in the squad room made everything take twice as long. Forced to stop every few seconds to unjam the broken key, he was short of patience.
"You'd think the guys upstairs could spring for some better equipment!"
He felt Arthur Fancy's presence behind him before the lieutenant spoke. "John, you know how it is… budget cuts. Always." Fancy sighed. He was as pissed as John at the broken down equipment his men had to contend with.
"Yeah, yeah… always the same story," remarked John, not bothering to look up. He knew Fancy did the best he could and he sympathized. He wouldn't want the lieutenant's job for love nor money.
For his part, Fancy stood silently for several seconds. The lieutenant was at a loss as to how to bring up the sensitive subject he wanted to discuss with his favorite detective. He knew the close bond between Kelly and Sipowicz, but it was time to address the situation. Finally, throwing caution to the wind, he blurted it out.
"John, where's Andy?"
John froze, and light pouring through the grimy windows of Precinct 15 caught the ginger highlights in the younger cop's flaming red hair. The sight made Fancy smile in spite of the tense discussion he was about to have with Kelly. He paused, studying the silent young man.
Youngest cop on the force to ever make detective, John Kelly had a good career in front of him – if he wanted it. The instincts that made him so successful on the streets would make him a good lieutenant someday. Maybe even captain, if he was serious above moving up the promotional ladder.
He was savvy and intuitive. He had a temper – that red hair wasn't for nothing – but he was able to control it. Kelly was dependable in a pinch. Most of all, he was loyal. Fancy liked the way John unconditionally looked out for the other cops in the squad room. Every cop learned early the importance of having a fellow officer at his back, ready to step in and do the necessary. Kelly was that kind of man.
That's what made the discussion he was about to have with him all the more difficult.
"John?" he repeated, waiting for an answer.
His face grim, John turned to meet his superior's eyes. "Andy wasn't feeling well… something he ate."
Fancy wasn't buying it. "Ate… or drank?"
"Look, Lieutenant, you've got it all wrong. We stopped for lunch at Geppi's diner. You know Geppi's – it's a dump. We shoulda known better. Anyway, Andy ate something that didn't agree with him – he ended up running for the bathroom even before we left the diner. I told him to go home… he wasn't going to be much use to me with a bellyache."
Fancy said nothing, continuing to stare at John. John met him gaze for gaze. Finally, Fancy backed down, shaking his head.
"John, this has to stop. You know it and I know it."
"Lieutenant, don't make more of this than it is."
"Come on, John! This is serious. Sipowicz has been skating on thin ice for several weeks now. His behavior is becoming more extreme each day." Exasperated, he pounded a fist on John's desk. "You can't keep carrying him, understand?"
"I'm not carrying him," protested John.
"Yes, you are." Fancy's voice became very quiet. "You are – and you're not helping him any. If this keeps up, I'm going to have to split the two of you up. Don't you see it? He's being unfair to you, taking advantage of your feelings for him.
"You keep covering for him and one day something bad is going to happen. It's going to happen to him or it's going to happen to you. This isn't the boy scouts, John. When you're out on the street, you need a partner you can depend on – not one sitting in Patrick's Saloon, belting back a few."
John was silent, unsure what to say. His thoughts flashed briefly on the conversation he'd had with Lori a few weeks ago. It had been eerily similar to this one.
"I'll talk to him, Lieutenant."
"You do that," said Fancy.
"Hey, man, you okay?" asked one of the cops after Fancy had gone back inside his office. He'd overheard the conversation and had been watching John closely.
"Yeah, I'm fine." John yanked at the piece of paper in the typewriter, pulling it from the carriage. He signed his name to the report and tossed it into his outbox.
"Good," said the cop. "You know, the couple of times you and I worked together, we had a good thing going. If you go looking for a new partner, you know where to come, okay?"
John looked at him. "I'm not looking for a new partner, got it? This is just a misunderstanding."
The cop smirked and shook his head. "Yeah, man, whatever you say. Still, the offer is on the table."
John was leaving for the day when Fancy beckoned him inside his office. Expecting a continuation of their earlier conversation about Andy, he was surprised when the lieutenant thrust some sort of notice at him.
"What's this?" he asked.
"It's an opening for a lieutenant's position further uptown. Thought you might be interested."
John frowned. "You trying to get rid of me, sir?"
Fancy smiled. "Not at all. Look, John, it's a good opportunity. Better hours, more money. You've got what it takes – and I'm willing to go to bat for you."
John was touched. Fancy played his cards close to his chest, and he and the other detectives sometimes had trouble figuring the man out. Knowing that Fancy believed in his ability to take on the position meant a lot to John.
"Thanks, Lieutenant – I appreciate the vote of confidence," he said, handing the notice back to him.
"No," said Fancy, refusing to take it. "You keep this. Think about it. You've got a baby on the way – I'm sure you could use the extra money, and I'm sure your wife would feel better knowing you were behind a desk."
"Hey, look, Lieutenant, I'm not seeking to make a career change…"
Fancy interrupted. "Take the notice and just think about it. That's all. Now go home, John – enjoy the weekend. I'm sure your wife is waiting for you."
Walking into the apartment, John found Lori's note:
I've gone to look at some color cards at the paint store.
Maybe we can paint the baby's room tomorrow.
I'll pick up some take-away on my way home.
There's cold beer in the 'fridge. Have one and sit back – I won't be long.
Reading the note, John was troubled. Lori was determined to stay in the apartment rather than look for a new place.
Pulling a beer from the refrigerator, he popped the lid and sat down at the kitchen table. He thought about taking a shower, but he was so damned tired. He had not only taken care of his duties that day, he'd covered for Andy as well. It had to stop – Lori and Fancy were right. He knew it, but he wasn't sure what to do about it. There was a part of him that shrank from confronting his partner.
He still had a lot of respect for Andy. Affection, too.
He looked at Lori's note again. Paint cards… he'd forgotten they'd agreed to paint the spare bedroom this weekend.
Feeling tense, he took a large swig of the cold beer, remembering the argument they'd had a few nights before.
Lately, it seemed all they did was argue.
John wanted a bigger house for his child; he didn't want to bring a kid up in an apartment. Neither did Lori, and yet she seemed to be using the apartment as a weapon to force him into taking a desk job.
He thought once they'd conceived the baby, it would bring them closer. Instead, Lori seemed more withdrawn than ever. She was often sad and confused, clinging to him late at night; at other times, she was moody and distant.
When she'd remarked that they couldn't afford a bigger place, he had offered to work a second shift. The unpleasant surprise in her eyes had taken him aback.
"My God, Johnny – what can you be thinking? The last thing I want you to do is work extra hours on the street!"
"It wouldn't have to be on the street, Lori; I could get a job doing private security work."
"Why? Why would you work extra hours when all you have to do is apply for the next available desk job? John, you're not a twenty-five year old with no family responsibilities! Leave that to the younger men. Do you remember how you felt when your father died? Do you remember your mother? Is that what you want for us?"
"Of course not," he said, suddenly furious. "Do you think I'm selfish? I want the best for you and my kid… but Christ, Lori… why do you make everything so damned hard? You've known from the beginning that I love police work! You didn't go into this with your eyes closed!"
At that, Laura burst into tears. "I know… I know… but it's different now. I'm scared. It's not just the baby… I don't want to lose you! I can't sleep at night… the dreams… Maybe it's a premonition, a warning of things to come… every time I turn on the TV or the radio I hear of a police officer who has been killed in the line of duty. What if that happens to you? I worry all the time! I'm pregnant with our child, Johnny – is that what you want? My worrying about you, being upset all the time?"
The memory of that conversation and his actions afterward still bothered him, and John took a deep swallow of beer, letting the cool liquid slide down his throat.
Yeah, slide down his throat and anesthetize him. He wasn't too proud of the way he'd acted after Laura had admitted to being frightened.
Instead of staying to comfort her, he had walked out of the apartment, too angry to continue the conversation. He'd walked a fair distance that night, deep in thought. An hour later, he'd found himself standing outside his mother's house.
That's when the idea of their moving in with his mother had occurred to him. It was a big old house, well built, in good shape. It had a nice little yard… just right for a kid. He had a lot of good memories of growing up there… at least until his dad was killed.
It was a creative solution to the problem of a bigger place – he wouldn't have to work an extra shift to pay for more space, his mother would welcome the company, and it would be a great neighborhood for a kid to grow up in.
Still, he'd never brought the idea up to Lori. In the end, he realized it was a poor solution. His mother was becoming more forgetful. His sister, Kathleen, came three or four times a week to check on her. It wouldn't be fair to Lori – or any new mother – to put her in a situation where she'd wind up caring not only for a baby, but also a mother-in-law. Besides, it was likely Lori would return to work after the baby was born. They'd be looking for day care.
Problem after problem… endless complications. This should be a happy time; why were things so damn difficult? It frightened him to consider that there might be no way to extricate themselves from the arguments they'd begun having.
C'mon, Kelly… you know there's a solution, but you're too damn selfish to consider it.
He set the beer on the table and pulled from his pocket the notice that Fancy had given him.
The lieutenant was right. John knew he could do the job. Hell, he'd made detective at twenty-eight; why not lieutenant at thirty-six?
I have to figure a way out, he thought. I've got a kid on the way. I love my wife. Maybe… maybe, Lori is right. Maybe I'm being selfish, being on the streets, when I have a family.
With a sense of guilt, he quickly downed the last of his beer.
He knew the statistics. Most cops ended up divorced. Too many times, their jobs sucked the life out of them. Was that happening to him? Was he craving the excitement of the streets more than he was a happy family life? The excitement, the danger – it was like a drug; it could be addicting. It happened to other cops. They ended up sacrificing their families to their own need for action. He knew that.
Look at Andy… did he want to end up like his friend?
He heard the door open and hastily shoved the notice back inside his pocket.
"Johhny?" called Lori from the living room.
"In here, babe."
She walked into the kitchen, putting some cartons on the table. She looked flushed and happy. Her eyes were sparkling and her cheeks were rosy. He smiled. She was so damned pretty! Pregnancy obviously agreed with her appearance. Her body, always well rounded, was firmer and fuller than ever. She never failed to excite him – even when just walking into a room.
"Hi, beautiful – how'd you make out?" he asked.
She came over and kissed him on the mouth. "Pretty good. I picked up the paint cards – I want your opinion – I'm torn between five different shades of yellow."
He grimaced. "You're kidding, right? Yellow is yellow."
She laughed. "Men! No, yellow is NOT yellow. I had 15 paint cards of yellow, but narrowed our choices down to just the five. I'll show them to you after dinner. Hungry?"
He looked at the cartons; one especially caught his attention and he sniffed at it. "Hmm… Chinese. What's in here?"
"That one is mushu pork. But I also have shrimp chow mein, and some other goodies – like fortune cookies. I bet one of them says you're gonna be a daddy." She smiled widely. "I'm starving. I kind of like this eating for two thing – gives me carte blanche to over indulge. Will you love me when I'm fat?"
Looking at her fuller, still sexy body, he grinned. "I think I can stand it."
One thing he knew would never change between them – the passion. No woman ever got to him the way Lori did. There was something challenging in her large brown eyes, in the way she looked at him, in the way she held herself. She made him horny without even trying. A lot of couples didn't have half of what they had going for them.
That's why he knew they'd make it.
And that's why he knew he'd do whatever he had to for her and the kid.
He stood up and reached for her, surprising her with his sudden passion. "Dinner," she began.
"Can wait," he finished.
He carried her into the bedroom, resolute in his determination to look into the new position when he returned to work on Monday.
The streets were exciting and made him feel alive; his home life, however, was more important.
To be continued.
Author's Note: This is a continuing story from the writing team of WriterJasmine and Teeheehee1234. It's meant to be a fun attempt at writing a story together based on words that readers provide to us on a weekly basis. For more information about this, please read our profile and please feel free to participate. The 'bolded' words throughout the story are words that some of our reader friends sent our way this week. The words utilized are: broken; flaming; unconditionally; extreme; unfair; moody; premonition; memories; creative; extricate; pork; and horny.