Secrets and Lies part I

The next morning Jay woke up to the sounds of the TV chattering on about a bear cub stuck up in a tree in rural Vermont. He pulled on a t-shirt and pants and walked out to the living room to see Liam eating cereal in front of the TV. He rubbed his eyes and walked over, found the remote and prepared for battle as he turned the television off.

"Hey," Liam groaned as the screen turned black.

"You need to eat at the table."

"I'm not spilling. I'm being careful."

"Yeah, you're careful alright. Which is why I spent twenty minutes scraping gum off the couch a couple of days ago."

"Oh, that's where that went."

"Yeah, that's where it went so get your bowl and go to the kitchen. I'm not going to tell you again."

"Fine," Liam complained, picking up his bowl and sloshing milk over the side as he did so.

Jay took a deep breath and shook his head. He stepped over and took the bowl from his son and carried it to the table. "Go get a rag from the linen closet and mop it up," he ordered.

Liam stood momentarily, deciding whether he was going take the easy road or the hard road. But a look from Jay sent him towards the narrow closet by the bathroom where he grabbed an old washcloth and went back to the small puddle of milk he had left behind.

"Throw it in the washing machine when you're done cleaning up," Jay instructed as he poured himself a bowl of cereal and set it down across from Liam's.

One of the things that had attracted him to this apartment, aside from it having two bedrooms in a decent neighborhood and was as affordable as he could find, was the fact that it had come with a stackable washer and dryer in a small closet next to the bathroom.

Liam sat down and the two ate in silence for a few minutes before Jay spoke. "Did you throw the curveballs when he asked you to?" Liam chewed slowly and swallowed thinking about his answer. "Just tell me the truth."

"I did. Sometimes. Not all the time though."

"Did he ask you to throw them a lot?"

Liam shrugged. "I don't know. But it was hard to throw them and hard not to."

"What does that mean?"

"I usually threw them for a strike and the batter either swung and missed or didn't even move and they were in the strike zone so they got called out, because I was only supposed to throw them with two strikes."

"So that made it easy or hard?"

"Easy."

"Then when was it hard?"

"Every time."

"I'm confused," Jay said sitting back in his chair.

"Because every time I threw one, I knew you wouldn't like it. I felt like I was lying to you."

"Well you kind of were. I don't want you throwing them. Not anytime soon. Am I clear?"

"But they worked Dad. I probably won more games because of them. And coach said my mechanics are good enough that I can do it."

"I'm going to say this again. I don't want you throwing curveballs. End of discussion. Your coach is your coach but I am your father and that trumps what he wants. Now, am I clear?"

Liam finished his cereal and pushed his bowl away but didn't answer. "Did you finish checking my Halloween candy? Can I have it?"

"You didn't answer me."

"Well, you didn't answer me," Liam argued.

Jay was afraid he was getting a glimpse into the upcoming teen years and he wasn't caring for it at all. "We are going to have a long talk before you get signed up for spring baseball. I withheld the fall season from you and I won't hesitate to do again if I have to."

"You're not the boss of me," Liam stated glaring at Jay.

"Excuse me? I am very much the boss of you. In fact I am the ultimate boss of you. Now go and get dressed. You're going to help me clean up the apartment and then we're going to see if Mrs. Harris is ready for you to clean up her yard."

"I want my candy," Liam said, unwilling to let Jay have the last word.

"I will give you a little at a time."

"But it's mine."

"Please don't push me Liam. I don't have the patience or desire to argue anymore with you. Now, your day can end a good note or a bad one, you get to decide. So give me a hard time and it will be a long day for both of us or just do what I ask you and we can salvage it and have a great afternoon and evening—your choice."

Liam turned and went to his room. Jay was braced for the door to slam, but the boy didn't even bother to close it. A few minutes later he came out dressed, but didn't look all that excited for what was to come. Jay had finished his cereal and filled the sink with soapy water, watching it overcome the dishes sitting inside it. He quickly washed them and set them in the rack to dry.

"Here's a rag and cleaner. Wipe down the counters and the fridge, while I tackle the bathroom. Oh and use this," he said setting down a bottle of scrubbing bubble stuff and a sponge, "and scrub the sink."

"This sucks!" Liam complained.

"Well if it makes you feel any better, I'm not having any fun either."

"If I had a mom, she would probably be doing this."

"Perhaps. Or maybe you'd be helping just like you are now. Now you can clean the bathroom instead if you want."

"No. I'm good," Liam quickly answered as he began to squeeze cleaner into the sink.

Jay put a lot of elbow grease into scrubbing the tub. He knew it was his anger and frustration coming through. He had given himself a silent pat on the back at not having a meltdown while his son was busy having his own. A part of him—a big part actually, was ready to flip the defiant little monster over his knee and remind him who was running the show. But he wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt and an opportunity to set himself straight. He sincerely hoped that Liam righted his ship or as Jay's dad had always told him when he was a child, "straighten up and fly right." Or Jay's personal favorite, "you're cruisin' for a bruisin." Jay cruised and Pat bruised. That wasn't really fair. But Jay felt that Pat disciplined first and listened never. He didn't want to be that father, he wanted to do better.

An hour later the apartment was in good shape and Liam collapsed on the couch. "Can I have some candy now?"

"No. Maybe after lunch."

"So now what?"

"Now we go knock on Mrs. Harris' door and see if she is ready for you to do yard work."

"She might not be home," Liam offered. But he knew there was little hope of that. She was almost always home. Truthfully, he liked Mrs. Harris. She gave him homemade cookies, listened to whatever he had to say and bought him little Lego kits. She had one son who lived downtown by the river. He was still single and seemed to have no prospects for a relationship. So Liam was sort of a surrogate grandchild. She even came to some of his ball games and cheered him on. If they lost, she would buy him a snow cone and if they won, she'd buy him a snow cone. He knew he could count her no matter how his game went.

They walked down and across the street and Liam surveyed the yard while Jay knocked on the door. It took her a minute but she finally answered. "Oh, it's the Halstead's. My favorite fellas she gushed."

"Hi Mrs. Harris. Is today a good day for Liam to take care of the yard work that we promised?"

"Oh, you two are the best. I didn't think you'd come back and do it."

"Now, Mrs. Harris, you know me better than that." Jay said smiling.

"Yes. You're right. You are a good man Jay Halstead. And you are teaching Liam to be a good man as well. Yes, today is a great day to clean up these dead flowers. The tools are in the storage under the stairs. Let me get the key for it," she said disappearing. Neither Jay or Liam knew how old she was, but she was probably in her late seventies and had struggled a bit since breaking her hip last year. "Clippers, shovel and basket to throw the plants into. Then you can put them in the compost pile back in the corner. You can stack the planters and pots back in the storage area. Oh, and leave the dirt in them, I can use it next year."

"Okay," Jay called out as he unlocked the door that secured the storage under the stairs and began to find the needed items.

"Psst, Liam. Come here." She said waving Liam up the stairs. "I have some extra Halloween candy if you want some. I think a job well done is deserving of chocolate."

"Definitely," Liam said as his head bobbed up and down. "My dad won't let me have much of my candy."

"Well, we won't tell him then," she said with a conspiratorial smile.

"Deal," Liam whispered.

"Come here," Jay said looking up at his son. Liam trampled down the stairs and took the tools his father passed to him. "Now trim back all the dead flowers and put them in the basket and dump them over there."

"And can you dig up the flowers over there by the edge of the fence? They come back every year, but don't produce many flowers anymore." Mrs. Harris yelled down.

"Sure he can," Jay said as he looked at Liam.

"Yeah, I will."

"You're such a dear. I'll have a snack for you when you get done," she said as she winked.

"Not sure what that was about, but okay. Come home when you're done. And put everything away like you're supposed to. And make sure you lock this door and take the key back." Jay explained.

"I will." He said, not looking too thrilled with his chore list.

"When you're done maybe we can ride our bikes on the 606." He said speaking of the nearby trail used by walkers and bikers alike.

"Okay," Liam agreed as he got to work.

Jay went home crashed on the couch as he texted the chef that he had been with a few weeks ago. He wasn't sure if he had the energy or desire to pursue much of anything in the romantic realm. And of course he always had to think about how anything and everything he did affected his son. His love life had been unsettled since he and Erin had broken it off years ago. Hell, it had been unsettled since he had been with Bridget over ten years ago. He knew that the ordeal with Camila a couple of years ago had left a bitter taste in his mouth. He had cared for her despite the lies, obfuscation and ultimate betrayal. She was a dealer, he was a cop. She was simply a job, but despite his best efforts it grew to more than that. Working with her brother, Luis, caused the memories of his deployment to come rushing at him faster than he could deal with as did the behavior that came with it. He had felt so broken when the whole thing began and even more broken after it all was all done. He had hurt her and that had been the last thing he had wanted to do. She believed none of it was real, he was afraid too much of it had been real.

The therapy that he denied needing but Voight had demanded and Hailey pointed out was a necessity, had helped him tremendously. He came to realize that he was human and it was okay to make mistakes, some were worse than others, but his past was affecting his future and he needed to be in control and help guide it better. Life was always throwing him curveballs, although different than the ones Liam wanted to throw. Last week he had sniper duty and had shot three men that were holding many others hostage. Three head shots, three deaths. Then he went home and made macaroni and cheese and helped Liam with his math homework. He had learned that sometimes you didn't have to make sense out of things that simply signified nothing but chaos. And that's what life often felt like; chaos.

That chaos only really allowed him to date causally, and was always careful as to who he brought around Liam. He felt unlucky in love. He had no idea what type of feelings Bridget had had for him, but he had to believe there was something more to their relationship than ten days of raw passion. There had been some kind of connection, and when she had seemed to initially forget him after his deployment, it had hurt. But he had just begun to move forward when he received her letter speaking of the connection that would forever bind them together.

Where had she gone and how had she left her only her only child behind was a constant and nagging question. Had he done something? He didn't think so. Besides if he had, she would have been less likely to leave Liam in his care. Like Liam had said, the eyes will tell you everything, and her eyes had always held that haunted, hunted look. Like there was something lingering there waiting to be told, but was held forever captive. But that last day there was something so very sad about her eyes when she said that final goodbye. At the time he had truly believed that she would be back within weeks. But the weeks turned into months and then years. Liam's constant questions as to when his mother would return, broke his heart over and over again.

He had been as faithful as possible in his visitation with Liam in those early years. Every Wednesday night and every other weekend. Yes, he missed occasionally due to work, but she always seemed understanding. And Liam never seemed bitter about it, making it clear that she hadn't maligned Jay in the change of plans. They had made several attempts to renew their relationship at different times throughout the years and with each one Jay thought that perhaps there was future for them, as if their treading water could actually propel them forward in some meaningful way. But it didn't and just as he thought there was a breakthrough, she would push him away again.

"I don't get it," Jay said one morning as Bridget decided once again, that after spending a night together, it was best if they distanced themselves. Jay was trying to keep his emotions in check as Liam was excited believing his dad was there early to see him, still too young to recognize he was wearing the same clothes as the night before. "Every time, I think we are getting somewhere you push me away. What am I doing wrong?" He asked as he sent Liam to his room for a show and tell item.

"Nothing. It's not you, it's me." Bridget replied.

"Oh, great, that speech." Jay said shaking his head in frustration and disbelief.

"It's not a speech, it's the truth. Despite how badly I want this," she said holding her arms outward indicating Jay and Liam, "it's not for me. It can never be for me."

"But why not? We don't have to get married. But Liam deserves two parents in one household. Can't we just try it? I'll keep my apartment, but let's give it a shot."

"You don't understand."

"What don't I understand?"

"This, a family, a wonderful life of marriage, children, career and white picket fence, just isn't what I was meant for."

"Not sure about the picket fence, but why isn't meant for you? Please talk to me. Believe me I've seen almost everything, there isn't much that can shock or surprise me."

She smiled weakly leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. A month later she was gone.

What had she been so secretive about? What had she been hiding or hiding from? Was it something real or was her life in Chicago just something she needed to escape? Could he have helped her? Was she a victim of something, someone? Because he sure as hell felt like a victim of her absence. And she had left another victim behind, one he was sure tore her deeply.

He thought Liam was probably finishing up so he got up and stepped out into the street. He could see the form of his son, digging away at a plant then sitting down and eating something. He shook his head and figured Mrs. Harris had slipped him a treat or two. He then noticed a man across the street who was attempting to look casual, but was clearly watching his son work. Jay watched a minute more to confirm his suspicion before he went and got his gun and began to circle around to come up on the man from behind.

Being a cop and ex-soldier, Jay took nothing for granted and had his gun in his hand down at his side as he came up on the man. He looked around and noticed a few pedestrians, ears filled with ear buds, eyes trained on their phone or directly in front of them. There were no kids around him and Liam was at least thirty yards away and not paying any attention to what was happening around him.

Jay trained his eyes on the man as he came up from behind, still completely unaware that he was about to be interrogated in one form or another. Jay planted the gun in his back, pulled the gun from the man's waistband that he had noticed and began his speech.

"Don't you dare move. Now tell me, why you are watching my son," Jay said, his voice tight and directly in the mans ear.

"I'm not going to hurt him. I'd never hurt him." The man said, his Irish accent more than evident as he raised his arms in a practiced motion.

"Who are you and what do you want?"

"I just wanted to see him. See him once anyway. He's named after me you know." The lilting accent nearly forgotten but suddenly so familiar.

"What?" Jay asked, trying to keep his focus.

"Liam James. It's my name. Liam Patrick James. You knew my sister as Bridget O'Brien."

Jay's head was spinning, his blood pumping faster than his body or brain could keep up with. He placed the man's gun in his own waistband as he kept his gun trained on the adult Liam.

"She called him L.J. sometimes didn't she? My friends would call me that back home."

"Where's home?"

"She never told you did she? She didn't tell you much of anything did she? Look, I'm not going to run or do anything, can you take that gun out of my ribs?"

"Not yet," Jay said, his words biting. "Where is she?"

"That's what I want to tell you. I'm here for you. I'm not sure how to say this, but you deserve to know, Liam deserves to know."

"Know what?"

"She loved you both very much."

"How can I believe you? Or anything that you say?"

"I have a picture. You saw it or at least she thought you saw it. She left it out once for you to find. I'm going to reach into the inside of my pocket and get my copy."

"Do it slowly," Jay ordered.

Liam moved cautiously, deliberately and pulled out a photo from when they were kids. The very same picture Jay had seen at her apartment all those years ago. The girl was clearly Bridget, with a boy he had assumed was her brother, her brother who might be right in front of him.

"It was taken when we were kids. She was eleven, I was ten. We were Irish twins. We were close then and stayed close until I lost her. I didn't even know where she was for years. She was that careful."

"Why? Why did she leave and why was she so careful?"

"She left a place that wasn't forgiving of those who didn't honor the family business."

"Which was?"

"Look mate, can you please take the gun off of me. I know you're a cop and quite capable of kicking my arse. I came here to talk to you and that's all I want to do."

Jay pulled his gun back and tucked it next to the other one, glad he hadn't worn tighter jeans. But he grabbed the man's jacket and pulled him around the corner and into an alcove by a bank. "Start talking then."

"Look, I'll tell you the basics. She left a bad situation because she wanted no part of what we were born into. But it wasn't just leaving, it was escaping. Because one doesn't just leave the James family. She traveled around then came to America and found her love for Chicago. Then she met you and then, well then Liam. She wanted to put down roots and she loved it here. She even loved the snow and cold."

"I still don't know that you are who you say you are." Jay argued but as he looked at the man's face the denial was beginning to fall away. The same blue eyes, the color that he had forgotten was now staring him in the face. The crinkle around they eyes that showed both warmth and sadness, too many genetic echoes to deny.

"My passport," he said as he pulled it from his pocket.

Jay took it, looked it over, it showed the man in front of him and the name matched. "It could be a fake."

"Could be, but it's not and I think you know that. Liam just turned ten a few months ago. Bridget was a vegetarian, eating compassionately was her motto and her catch phrase was 'what were you meant for.' She loved you and loved your son. She wanted to be swept up in a romantic dream, and she began that trek, but then realized it was never meant to be. All she wanted to be was a mother. She cherished that role, more than you'll ever know."

"Did she get pregnant on purpose?" Jay asked knowing already knowing the answer.

"I don't know. It's not exactly something that you can always plan. Did you use protection?"

"Yes," Jay replied.

"Every time?"

Jay remained quiet, the air held uncertainty as he remembered the days and nights of passion and constant need for human touch.

"Perhaps the boy was just meant to be. Perhaps being a father was what you were meant for."

"If she cherished the role so damn much, then why did she leave? Why did she tell her son she was going on a trip and then never come back?"

"Because it's what she had to do. She had hoped to figure out a way to come back, but it wasn't an option."

"Then why did she leave if she couldn't come back?"

"You have to understand that she had no choice in the matter. He eats your children and she could only hide for so long. She had to act or Liam would have been lost."

"What are you talking about?" Jay asked, his eyes wide. "What did she have to do?"

"Protect your son."

"And what did she have to do in order to accomplish that?"

"Kill our father." Liam said matter-of-factly. "He was the reason she felt she could never have kids. But she clearly was meant to be a mother, even if for a short time. But she had to stop him before he discovered L.J."

Jay rubbed his face with his hand. "I need details."

"I can't give them to you. It's better if you don't know any. I promised that I would honor Bridget by protecting you from her truth. But I can tell you this much—he was an evil man, in charge of an evil enterprise. And those born unto him and around him were pulled into his net with no escape. She escaped and by doing that she became enemy number one. No one leaves Killian James' little family and lives to tell about it.

"He'd never stop looking for her."

"And if he found her?" Jay asked.

"She had always been his favorite, but even so he'd of probably killed her, definitely killed you, even if you weren't together and he would have taken Liam. I have sisters who have had abortions to save their offspring from a life of his cruel hierarchy. Cousins who have committed suicide after watching him torture and kill their husbands because they dared to go against him. His brothers are no better. She left because she loved you. Both of you."

"Is she alive?"

"She killed him. Lured him into a building full of explosives. She hasn't returned because she couldn't. I needed Liam to know she didn't abandon him. She loved him with her entire being and because of that she gave up everything."

Jay just stood dumbfounded. He walked over and looked around the corner to see Liam waving goodbye to Mrs. Harris. He turned and looked at the elder Liam. "What was her name? Her real name?"

"Emma. Emma Eileen James. And she did love you. Of that I know."

"How did you find her after she came to Chicago?"

"We had an email account set up. It took her two years to send me anything. She had learned how to send it through different IP addresses. But even with that, she only contacted me five times in all the years she was gone."

"She led you to me?"

"She gave me hints, but never gave me a map. She wouldn't have exposed you so easily. It took me over a year to find you."

"Do you think anyone knew about your email account?"

He shook his head. "No. I was careful. I played along, acted as if I despised her and her desertion. A ruse I still carry to this day."

"So you're a good actor?" Jay said shaking his head.

"When I have to be. But this is not an act, and I believe you know that. Look, can I have my gun back? Despite all of my precautions, I feel better with it in my possession."

"You couldn't bring it on the plane. How did you get it?"

"This is America. This is Chicago. It wasn't that hard."

"Will anyone come after us? His brothers?"

"No. They're too busy fighting for the pieces of the pie. And she was careful, there is no knowledge of your existence."

"I don't know what to do," Jay said, his face breaking in two with emotion. "What do I tell him?" He asked as he handed the gun over.

"You tell him the truth. She loved him fiercely but she isn't coming back. I have to go. I hope this brings you some kind of peace and my apologies if it doesn't. But you deserved to know of her fate."

Jay stepped out of the alcove and looked back down the street, relieved to see that Liam had stopped to pet a neighbors dog. He looked back around the corner in time to see the man walk to a nearby car and get in. He stood there, trying to get himself together. He looked at the sun shining down on Liam, the red highlights in his hair beaming as red and orange leaves that had been shed from a nearby tree swirled around him.

"Hey Dad," Liam said as he looked up. "We're you coming to get me?"

"Sure was," Jay said trying to swallow down his recent experience. He had had a lot of practice at it. Shoot someone while on duty, come home and fix your kid dinner and hear about how is volcano for science class exploded at the wrong time. Or how about Jimmy O'Leary tripped over his shoelace and crashed into the wall. He was used to putting a mask on, but he usually had more time than thirty seconds in which to do it.

"Can we ride bikes now?"

"Let's have some lunch first. Unless the candy filled you up?" Jay said looking down at his son.

"I just had a couple of small candy bars. She said I could, that I deserved it since I worked so hard. And she gave me this," Liam said holding up a five dollar bill that he had pulled from his pocket.

"Five dollars?"

"She said it was a tip."

"You were cleaning up the yard as a punishment, not to get paid." Jay reminded.

"Can I keep it? I'll use it to buy you a Christmas present."

"How about you put it in your savings jar." Jay said of the jar that Liam had in his room where he put money that he had found or was given for odd jobs around their neighborhood or the district when he visited. Liam agreed to his father's suggestion and shoved the bill back into his pocket as they neared home.

To be continued...

Soundtrack: Mazzy Starr Into Dust

A/n my computer has decided to play, hide the file and has been making it hard for me to track down my document...wish me luck in my endeavor to continue to find it. Yes, I put it on a flashdrive as a precaution, but positive thoughts that I don't have another mild heart attack when it doesn't open when it says it should.