I don't own the characters and make no monetary profit from this story. Peter Gunn and Edie Hart own each other. My profit consists of the fun I have with them.
A Lifetime in Eight Days
Chapter 24: The Contentment in the Familiar
Frank Gunn turned his head at the sound of footsteps on the kitchen floor, then smiled at the sight his son presented him. Pete's white t-shirt was rumpled and hanging half in and half out of the waistband of the brown-striped pajama pants he was wearing and his feet were bare. His usually neat black hair stuck up in spikes on one side of his head and was matted down on the other and he looked like he could barely hold his eyes open. The last part didn't surprise Frank. When she eventually came downstairs Edie had told him she'd given Pete a couple of the pills the doctor had prescribed, which he initially refused but ended up swallowing anyway because the pain in his ribs and the throbbing in his head showed no sign of subsiding. She'd managed to get him under the covers and sat with him until well after he fell asleep.
"How are you feeling?" Frank placed a covered casserole dish and several foil-wrapped potatoes in the preheated oven and closed the door and then reached for the percolator and began preparing a fresh pot of coffee. "Edie said you were out like a light once she got those painkillers into you."
"I'm fine." Pete's fairly coherent answer belied his half-asleep look. "Where is she?"
Frank hid a smile as he scooped coffee into the filter and set the lid back on the pot and plugged it in. His son really had it bad. He'd known that, if he was honest with himself, since the very first time Pete had mentioned the girl's name during one of their regular phone conversations and it had become more and more obvious every time they talked. He was happy for his boy, that he'd found a woman to love. She was a good kid. They were both good kids.
"Since you were sleeping she decided to run some errands today instead of tomorrow." Frank picked up a dish towel and wiped his hands as he leaned back against the counter. "She said she was picking some things up at the dry cleaner's and then stopping by the barber shop to talk to someone about coming over to give you a haircut." Frank's eyes narrowed as he tried to remember everything Edie had told him. "After that she was going by her apartment to take care of the cat and change clothes and pick up a dress for tonight and then she was making a quick stop to get her hair done. Sure sounds like an oxymoron to me, there's nothing quick about it when it comes to a woman going to the beauty shop," he added as an aside. "And then she was stopping at the A&P for a few things. I think that's it. She said she'd be back by five," he tilted his wrist and gave his watch a glance, "so she should be getting back any time now."
Pete's brain slowly sifted through everything Pop said and latched onto one thing.
"A dress for tonight?" He rubbed at his eyes and the back of his neck in an attempt to clear the fuzz from his mind.
"Mmmm. Mother and Barney stopped by just before Edie went out. That's where the casserole came from. They brought enough food to feed an army for a week." Frank grabbed a cup from a cabinet and filled it with coffee and handed it to his son. Pete's eyes scrunched up as he tried to make sense of where his dad was going with this. "The girl who's been filling in for Edie apparently got itchy feet and decided she needed to move on to something else. She telephoned Mother this morning and said she wouldn't be back. Mother asked Edie if she could work tonight and then she'd get by with just the guys for a few nights until Edie goes back full time on Monday."
"Who was filling in?" Pete took a big gulp of hot coffee and swallowed and winced as it went down. Maybe that would wake him up.
"Somebody named Peggy."
Pete rolled his eyes. Peggy Dolan. She was nice and was one of Mother's favorite fill-ins but she could get on your nerves after a while. And she wasn't Edie. And Emmett and the guys were used to Edie and only wanted Edie. No one else. Things must have gotten bad in a hurry if Peggy only lasted a week. He said as much to Pop. Frank just looked at him then cleared his throat and held up two fingers. Two weeks he told Pete. Miss Dolan had been subbing for Edie for the past two weeks.
Pete just stared. His coffee cup landed on the kitchen table with a loud clunk, the dark liquid inside swaying and sloshing over the edges of the white stoneware. He ran his hands over his face, exasperated with himself. It suddenly hit him for the very first time that he wasn't the only one who was missing two weeks of his life. So was Edie.
Shutting the apartment door behind her, Edie Hart juggled several items from one arm to the other, dropping her keys onto a nearby table and setting a brown paper grocery sack on the floor next to it. She carefully draped the dress she'd picked out for tonight over the back of a chair before quickly carrying Pete's favorite gray suit upstairs and hanging it on the rack in the closet. Then she released a tired breath that tickled the curls the hairdresser had left to caress her forehead after styling her hair. A check of her reflection in the dresser mirror told her she'd need to take another shower before heading for Mother's but right now all she wanted to do was have a bite to eat and then sit down for a few minutes of peace and quiet before heading out again.
Edie retrieved the grocery bag and placed it on the counter as she entered the kitchen, a smile on her face for Frank Gunn as he stood checking the oven. She turned her eyes to Pete, her smile widening before she quickly bit down on her lips to keep from laughing. But she couldn't help herself and the smile came back along with a throaty chuckle.
"Have you even looked in a mirror?"
She reached up to comb her fingers through his hair where it was sticking up and ruffled it where it was matted down, giving him an amused wrinkle of her nose. Pete felt of his hair and gave a disgusted sigh and grabbed Edie's hand in his, listening to Pop laugh all the while.
"You could have said something," Pete grumbled at the older man's back, shifting from one foot to the other as Edie used her free hand to pull at his t-shirt in a vain attempt to straighten it around his waist.
"And spoil all my fun?" Frank's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled and began gathering items to make a salad. "Why don't you two find something to do while I finish here? One of you is still an invalid and shouldn't be overdoing things and the other has been on the run all day and needs to head off to work in a little while. Go take a load off your feet. I'll let out a holler when supper's ready. It'll be a little while yet."
"Come on." Edie tugged at Pete's hand. "You have time to take a shower and then I need to jump under the water for a few minutes."
In silence he accompanied her to the stairs, stopping and turning her around to face him as she stood on the first step. She looked into his eyes, now at a level with hers, allowed her gaze to roam his face, noticed the tiny tic of the muscle in his jaw as he stared back at her.
"What's wrong?" A tiny frown furrowed her brow then cleared as Pete shook his head.
"Nothing." Edie read the word on his lips, his voice barely audible, but it was stronger as he continued. "I love you."
Her hands went to his shoulders, to the back of his neck, to the sides of his face before she leaned slightly forward and touched his lips with hers, barely clinging in a soft kiss. Pete felt her lips curve in a smile as her hands smoothed their way down his chest and around his waist, careful of his bumps and bruises and tender ribs. His hands came to rest on her hips.
"I love you, too."
"I'm sorry about what happened this morning."
Edie searched his eyes then smiled and brought her face closer to his again. Her arms left his waist and crawled back up his chest. Her fingers skimmed along the edge of his t-shirt collar, tickling the warm skin of his throat.
"What part of what happened?"
"The scary part," Pete said, a half smile curving his lips for just a second or two before disappearing. "You could have been hurt. I'd never forgive myself if that happened."
"It wasn't your fault."
"Pop said you haven't been to work for two weeks. The entire time I was..." He stared over her shoulder and tried to find the right words to describe something he still didn't understand and ended up just shrugging. "Gone. The entire time I was gone. And then when I was in the hospital. He said you just sat and waited." His eyes found hers again. "You shouldn't have had to do that."
"What should I have done?"
"I don't know." He swallowed thickly and shrugged again and attempted the other half of that smile he tried before. "Gone on with your life I guess. There was nothing-"
"I don't have a life without you." Edie pulled back and grasped Pete's hand. "If all I can ever do for you in this life is sit and wait then that's what I'll do. Sit and wait." She gave him a teasing smile. "It's not like I don't already have a lot of experience at it."
Edie pulled open the silverware drawer and began gathering forks, knives and spoons to go with the dinner plates and drinking glasses already on the counter. Cups and saucers and blue cloth napkins joined the collection. Frank gave her a smile and said another ten minutes and everything would be ready so she grabbed what she could and headed into the dining room to set the table, Pop following behind with the cups and saucers before walking back into the kitchen. This was the first real sit-down supper the three of them would be sharing and she wanted to get everything right. As she set the last utensil next to a plate the doorbell rang. Hearing Pete call out that he'd get it she walked back to the kitchen, giving him a smile as he carefully took the final two steps down the stairs. He was doing well considering the long day he'd had.
Opening the apartment door Pete was unprepared to find Janet Jacoby on the other side, her husband standing behind her sporting an uncertain smile. Pete was glad he'd actually dressed, finding an old pair of soft gray corduroys folded on a shelf in the back of the closet to wear with an equally old blue and white plaid flannel Pendleton shirt. Janet's eyes widened enough at the bruises and half healed lacerations on his face, there was no telling what her reaction would have been if he'd answered the door wearing pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. Jacoby himself wouldn't have batted an eyelash. His wife was a different story altogether. Pete stepped aside to let them in, his eyes going to the cake holder the policeman carried in one hand and the bag he carried in the other.
"A strange thing happened," Jacoby said, setting his items down on the coffee table as Pete led the way into the living room and motioned for his visitors to have a seat on the sofa. "I called the hospital to check on a certain patient this morning and much to my surprise was told he'd been released." He removed his hat and settled himself next to Janet. "Nice of someone to let me know." Jacoby's voice was gentle but tinged with a hint of sarcasm. His wife gave him a look but he ignored it.
Pete gave a little shrug as he gingerly settled himself on the BarcaLounger he hadn't had the opportunity to try out yet.
"It was a busy morning." He glanced up as Pop sauntered into the room, an oven mitt in one hand. Jacoby half rose and gave a nod to the older man and introduced his wife then sat back down. "I ended up sleeping the afternoon away and Edie was running errands. I don't know what Pop was doing." He looked up at his dad again and narrowed his eyes. "Probably snoring in my chair."
"You better believe it," Frank admitted with an easy smile. His gaze swung back to the Lieutenant and his wife. "Supper's almost on the table. You two are welcome to join us."
Janet Jacoby quickly declined the invitation. Almost too quickly. They had somewhere else they needed to be she said. It was parents night at the school and they had to pick up their three at her folks house and go from there. They just wanted to bring by a cake and some paperbacks Pete might like to read to pass the time. The Lieutenant handed the bag of books to Pete and Frank reached for the cake holder, saying he'd put the dessert into another container so they could take theirs home. He disappeared into the kitchen before either Jacoby or his wife could say it wasn't necessary.
Setting the cake holder on the counter, Pop deftly separated the top from the bottom and removed the cake to another plate, shooting a quick glance at Edie when she asked who was at the door.
"Lieutenant Jacoby and his wife."
"His what?" Edie paused in the process of adding water to the percolator for another pot of coffee and gave him a startled look.
"His wife." Frank moistened a dish towel and cleaned the cake holder and snapped the two pieces back together. "You know, the woman he's married to?" he teased.
The blonde shrugged her shoulders, obviously taken aback by what she'd just heard. The smile on Frank's face slowly faded.
"You don't know Mrs. Jacoby?" His eyebrows rose as Edie shook her head and returned her attention to her task.
"The Lieutenant mentions her from time to time but I've never met her."
Frank noticed she didn't appear unnecessarily troubled by the fact that she'd never met the Lieutenant's wife but it struck him as odd.
"You and Pete have been together for how long?" he asked rhetorically. "And in all that time you've never met his friend's wife. Why not?" Maybe it was none of his business but that didn't mean he couldn't be curious and ask. He watched as Edie shrugged again.
"I don't know. I guess I've never really given it much thought."
Edie plugged the black cord of the percolator into the electrical outlet next to the stove and listened as the water began to heat. A little frown appeared between her eyes and she stared at the pot as the water began bubbling up into the glass knob on top of the lid.
"Pete says-" She paused and thought for a moment and started over. "I'd been going out with Pete for three months before I ever met Lieutenant Jacoby. When I asked Pete why he hadn't introduced us he told me that he liked it being just the two of us and that our relationship wasn't anyone else's business." A smile lit her face at the memory of that day. "The Lieutenant was very surprised to find out Pete had a girlfriend who he knew nothing about and he wasn't very friendly towards me for a while. I teased Pete about it and told him his friend didn't think I was good enough for him." Edie's eyes followed Frank as he checked the time and turned off the oven.
"Anyway..." Edie pulled open the refrigerator door and reached for condiments and the tea pitcher and a quart milk bottle and after a moment's thought plucked a container of grape juice from the shelf inside the door. "Pete has only mentioned Jacoby's wife in passing. I get the feeling from the few comments he's made that she likes the Lieutenant to keep his professional life and personal life separate. I know he and Pete used to get together every once in a while to do something but as far as I know they haven't since Pete and I have been together." She gave Frank an awkward smile as she pried the cap off the Borden's bottle. "Maybe that has something to do with why I've never met his wife. Sometimes I feel as though I've come between him and Pete in some way. Like I'm the other woman in my own relationship," she joked with a playful frown.
"Believe me, honey, you didn't come between them," Frank assured her with an amused smile. "You just became more important. If Pete behaved in any other manner I'd have to seriously begin to question my son's manhood." He gave her a considering look and a wink as he picked up the cake holder. "I'll let them know you'll be right out."
Frank still had a smile on his face when he entered the living room, depositing the empty container atop the bar as he passed it, figuring that way it wouldn't be forgotten by their visitors when they left. He seated himself on the edge of a chair across from Jacoby and his wife.
"Edie will be out in a minute. She's doing something in the kitchen."
Pete's gaze snapped to his in alarm.
"Don't worry," Frank assured him. "I think she's just obsessing over what we're drinking at supper."
"I'm not obsessing." Edie's voice followed Frank's teasing words to Pete as she trailed unbeknownst behind him. "I know exactly what I'm doing." She directed a smile toward Janet Jacoby and introduced herself to the pretty, dark-haired woman, shaking her hand and thanking her for the cake while pointedly ignoring the man sitting beside her. She gave Pete's leg a pat as she walked around him to settle herself on the arm of his chair. "And don't think I didn't see that look, Mister Gunn."
Several minutes passed as the five of them chatted, the two women doing most of the talking. Frank looked through the paperbacks Jacoby brought and discovered two Max Brand westerns that he set aside for himself along with several Action-Packed Western magazines. Pete's vision remained blurred to the extent that he wasn't doing any reading yet so Frank figured he might get the books read himself before his son got to them. He set a handful of mysteries and a couple science fiction paperbacks on the end table and neatly folded the cloth bag to send back home with the Jacobys. Then he glanced at Pete, wondering at his silence. Pete was staring at Jacoby, a thoughtful look in his eyes that said he was trying to figure something out. Frank likened it to having a word on the tip of your tongue, aware of its presence, knowing what it meant, but not being able to say it. There was some idea floating around in Pete's head that he hadn't quite pinned down, but when he eventually did, when the realization hit him, it would be a thing of beauty. It always was. What happened after the realization came to him might not be too pretty though.
Lieutenant Jacoby glanced at the watch on his right wrist and grabbed his hat and gave his wife a look and stood up, saying they really needed to be on their way if they were going to pick up the kids and make it to parents night on time. He ushered Janet ahead of him to the door, gathering their belongings along the way and giving an all-encompassing wave of his hand toward Edie and Frank before turning to Pete, who had gotten to his feet and followed them slowly to the door. He held his hand out, grasping Pete's as he did the same.
"I'm really glad you're home, Pete." His voice was soft and his gaze sincere as his eyes met those of his friend. "I'm glad you're going to be okay. And I want you to know that I'm very sorry about what happened at the hospital yesterday. I should have just-" His thoughts went back to what Edie had said to him the previous day. "I should have just stopped being the cop for once and treated you as what you are. My friend." Jacoby let his gaze travel past Pete's shoulder to rest on Edie's back as she walked in front of Frank Gunn into the kitchen. "And I apologize for the things I said to Edie. I didn't mean any of it. I was upset and feeling guilty and I opened my mouth and I stuck my foot in and I'm sorry. I want you to know that and I want her to know that."
The expression on Pete's face didn't tell the policeman anything. If he'd been told by his girlfriend or by his father about what had happened the previous day the PI wasn't letting on. The Lieutenant released his grip on his friend's hand and moved to join his wife. He felt Pete's gaze following them as they walked down the hallway and then heard the hushed sound of the apartment door closing.
Supper was Peter Gunn's favorite meal of the day. It was invariably the one meal he and Edie had always made an attempt to get together for, whether it was scrambled eggs at her place before he took her to work, sometime during the late evening when he had an opportunity to pick her up at Mother's for a quick run to Rosie's Diner or the Chinese place up the street, or at a real restaurant on those occasions they were both free when she got off work. And of course there were also those times he managed to sweet-talk Mother into letting Edie leave early so he could prepare a special meal at his place. Breakfast was often iffy, not because they weren't together, but because that was their sleeping time. And lunch didn't always fall into a regular slot because of errands and rehearsals and appointments and social engagements and civic duties.
Ice cubes crackled and hissed and settled as Edie poured tea into the tall light blue glass she'd set beside Pop's plate. Though it had been in the refrigerator the tea was still a tad warm and quickly began melting the cubes as liquid and its frozen counterpart met. Pop said thanks and lifted the glass and took a long swallow and then gave a sigh of absolute contentment as he lowered the half empty glass to the table. It was nice to be away from the hospital, sitting at his son's dinner table, enjoying good food and the company of his family. And he told them that.
Pete gave his dad a tired smile and admitted he couldn't have said it better himself. Then Edie was beside him, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder as she filled his glass too. But not from the tea pitcher. Instead she was pouring from a Borden's milk bottle. From the way the milk adhered to the inside of the glass quart he knew it was buttermilk. The drinking glass full almost to the brim, Edie set the bottle down and gave his shoulder a little squeeze, her voice a soft whisper in his ear as she turned away to find her own seat.
"I hope that holds you for a little while." Pete watched nonplussed as she settled herself across from him and took a sip of her grape juice. Was she teasing him? She ducked her head as she spread her napkin out on her lap but he could see the cat that got the cream smile that curved her lips. She was teasing him. She was delving into their own private little world, right in front of his dad no less, flirting with him about something one didn't discuss in polite company.
Buttermilk was... well, suffice to so say buttermilk was something just between the two of them, something they alone understood, a silly expression that had been concocted somewhere along the line to refer to their, um, private goings-on. When two people found themselves in the company of friends or family or even strangers and suddenly had the urge to go home and be alone, together by themselves, they sometimes needed a way to get that point across to each other without informing the entire room what they were up to. Saying he needed a glass of buttermilk to settle his stomach had absolutely nothing to do with what it implied.
"Now that's something I haven't had in a while," Pete muttered, taking a small sip. He stared at Edie over the top of the glass. If she thought she was going to get away with something she had another think coming.
"Not one of the choices they offered you in the hospital I take it," Frank commented, following along with an observation that Mother had prepared one of the best casseroles he could ever remember eating.
"Wasn't on their menu."
Pete almost smiled at the choking sound that came from Edie's direction. She coughed and muttered something about swallowing wrong when the elder Gunn asked if she was okay.
"I don't know how you can stand that stuff," Pop said, risking a glance at his son while digging a second huge spoonful of casserole from the baking dish.
"Hmmm?" Pete turned his attention bemusedly to Pop.
"Whenever your Grandma Jean made butter she refused to throw out the buttermilk it left behind. We were forced to drink it because she didn't want anything to go to waste." Frank chuckled as he continued filling his plate. "Your Aunt Patty tried to get the old dog Shep to drink hers once, I guess she was about seven or eight, and Ma had a fit you wouldn't believe."
"I guess you could say it's an acquired taste," Pete said.
"Oh? And just how did you acquire it?"
"It's all Edie's fault. She insists it's good for me." He threw the woman in question a quick glance but she kept her eyes demurely lowered. "So she gives it to me. Sometimes whether I ask for it or not." He somehow managed to keep a straight face when her gaze snapped to his and her eyes narrowed. She took another sip of juice and wrinkled her nose at him.
"Well I'm sure she's just looking out for your best interests, son." Pop said.
"Something like that," Edie admitted. She smiled at him and then rolled her eyes at the man across the table, silently conveying her opinion that he was a nut. Pete in turn gave a quirk of his eyebrows that clearly indicated she had started the whole thing and she'd just have to accept the consequences. He chewed a bite of baked potato and swallowed, following it up with a big gulp from his glass, sighing in satisfaction as the cool liquid went down. He gave Edie a deadpan look, the milk clinging to his upper lip, and his right eye closed in a quick wink.
"You can be such a child sometimes." She shook her head at him but her lips trembled with laughter.
"Need another napkin?" Pop asked.
Pete shook his head and grabbed his from his lap to wipe his mouth.
"It may be an acquired taste but you seem to like it." Pop again, slathering butter on his potato after peeling the foil away and slicing the spud down the middle.
"It's really not bad once you get used to it." Pete looked across the table at Edie. "It can be a little tart sometimes though." That got Edie's attention.
"You watch your language there, Tiger." She eyed him narrowly as she lowered her fork and pushed her plate aside, resting her elbows on the table and her chin upon her clasped hands. Her gaze raked him up and down in mock disapproval.
Pete grabbed the Borden's bottle and refilled his empty glass.
"Don't you want some, honey?" His laughing eyes met hers.
"I think I'll save mine to go with dessert," Edie said after pretending to consider.
"There might not be any left, " Pete warned. "It's so good I just might drink the whole bottle."
Pop finished his supper, plate wiped clean, and leaned back in his chair. His eyes went back and forth, from his son to the blonde and back again, as he listened to their strange conversation. They had quite obviously forgotten he was even sitting at the table with them. He decided it was nice to see Pete so animated, so patently happy to be home and in the company of the woman sitting opposite him. His face still looked like it had been used as a punching bag, his mental reaction times hadn't caught up to where they should be and his tiredness was evident, but he had a boyish grin on his face as he parried good-naturedly with his girl.
"There's more where that came from," Edie assured him with a teasing smile.
Pop stood and began gathering the plates.
"That's good." Pete finished off his drink, his eyes never leaving her face. "Because sometimes I just can't seem to get my fill of it." He set his glass gently on the table, his eyes crinkling with a smile at the light blush that suffused her cheeks. She pursed her lips and dropped her gaze.
Pete pulled his eyes away from Edie to find Pop staring at them, one eyebrow raised, his face a picture of good humored exasperation as he leaned against the door frame. Edie's face reddened further and she stood up, clearing her throat as she stepped quickly around the table, informing no one in particular that she was going to run upstairs to powder her nose and would be right back down for cake and coffee. That way she would be ready to go whenever Emmett happened to come by to pick her up for work.
"I miss those times." It was Frank Gunn's voice that finally broke the silence between father and son.
Pete looked at him, a question in his eyes.
"Those times when you're in a world of your own, when you think no one else knows what you're doing or what you're talking about." His eyes held a brief sadness. "When its just the two of you even in a room full of people." He gave Pete a sharp look. "You hold onto that girl, son. You hold onto her tight and don't ever let go. Life isn't perfect and you'll have your fair share of problems... but she's a keeper. You got that?"
Pete cleared his throat, swallowing the lump that had formed there, and nodded.
"Finding a woman like that..." Frank crossed his arms almost protectively over his chest, as though he was guarding his heart. "That's a once in a lifetime thing. You don't mess with it, you don't screw it up. A man doesn't always get a second chance, either with the same person or with someone new. You take good care of what you have, don't go looking for something you think might be better."
"There's nothing better, Pop."
"That's the way I felt about your Mom." Frank's eyes held a faraway look. "There was never anyone before or after that could hold a candle to her. Even after all these years I still miss her. Sometimes I find myself saying something out loud and forget and turn to look for her just knowing she's going to tell me what for and she's not there. And a little of the sunshine goes out of my day."
He silently gathered the remaining dishes and found his way back into the kitchen, Pete following along behind with the silverware. They shared a companionable silence as Pop cut into the cake the Jacobys had brought by and Pete gathered cream and sugar for their coffee. As the atmosphere lightened he glanced at his father.
"So what about that Mrs. McAllister woman you've been carrying on with?" he teased. "Are you two still seeing each other?"
"We are." Pop set the dessert plates aside and covered the cake. "She's a fine woman and we have a lot in common. We share some of the same experiences." He stuck his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the counter, his eyes on the floor as he considered the woman he'd been seeing for the past couple of years. "Her husband was a fireman. He was killed in that Sculley Warehouse collapse about ten years ago. They never had children so she's been pretty much alone in the world since then." He lifted his eyes and gave Pete a lopsided smile. "We get along just fine."
"But she's not Mom."
"No, she's not your Mom. But that doesn't mean I care for her any less, I just care for her in a different way. She's a different person, a different woman, than your Mom was." An amused look crossed his face. "I suppose it's sort of like regular milk and that buttermilk of yours. The milk might quench your thirst, but the buttermilk..." Frank smiled and slowly shook his head reminiscently as he pushed away from the counter. "The buttermilk is something else entirely."