Sharon's phone buzzed for the 6th or 7th time in a row and she sighed quietly, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes. Her phone was on vibrate, but everyone in the meeting could hear it buzzing, pressed firmly between the fabric of her back pocket and the hard chair. She cursed herself for choosing today of all days to wear the blazer with the "ornamental" pockets. She vowed never again to let a salesperson talk her into something with fake pockets. It's just absurd. Why go through all the effort of pretending to have them in a garment if you're not going to make them functional?
It buzzed again and this time Chief Pope stopped mid-sentence, "Are we keeping you from something, Captain Raydor?"
"No, Chief. I'm sorry, I thought it was on silent," she says, her cheeks coloring slightly as she slipped her phone out and pointedly switched it to Silent without checking the messages. "Nothing that won't keep until we're finished up here. Please," she gestured for him to continue.
He paused slightly, still looking at her, fully aware she hadn't actually taken the time to check her notifications before returning to his all-too-familiar lecture about budget overages.
When Sharon got back to her office, she closed her door with more force than necessary, causing the officers at their desks to jump slightly at the harsh sound. Safely ensconced in her office, she sat down hard in her chair and finally pulled out the offending device and switched the sound back on.
Two missed calls and 10 text messages. She knew when she'd declined the second call before walking into her meeting that she was asking for trouble, but that man was infuriatingly insistent. Sharon picked up her office phone and dialed the number she knew by heart.
"You do realize I'm a police officer, right?" she said as soon as the call picked up.
"Sweetie, it's just a party, what's the big deal?" Gavin pushed.
"Exactly, what's the big deal?" she shot back. "Stop harassing me or I'm going to file charges."
"You wouldn't–"
"Gavin, my boss interrupted our budget meeting today because of you–"
"Not my fault you've been avoiding me or that you forgot to put your phone on silent for the meeting…"
"I normally don't have to worry about my adult friends blowing up my phone during the work day for non-emergencies," she snapped, glaring at a stack of papers on her desk. Gavin might not have been able to see it, but he felt the edge nonetheless.
"I just don't understand why you don't want to come…" he whined.
She sighed heavily, rubbing her forehead, "Gavin, I just…why does there have to be a reason? I'm an adult with a stressful job and I get to choose how I spend my limited free time," she finished.
"Right! So why not cut loose at the most fabulous Halloween party in town?"
"Gavin, we've been over this. I'm at work and I really don't have time to get into it again right now."
"Are you and Brenda doing something together instead?" he asked after a brief pause.
"No," Sharon's response was sharper than she'd intended, but she really did not have time for this right now, which was precisely why she'd been avoiding him.
"Wait, did you two have a fight or something? Oh my god, honey, did you break up?! Is that what this is about?"
"No!" she snapped again and then took a breath, wishing she'd just lied and said yes so they could be done with this discussion.
"It's not—we're not…Gavin, I'm not talking about this with you right now."
"Well, if you two don't already have plans together, then you should both come to my party."
Sharon's only response was a familiar non-committal hum.
"I mean it, Sharon. Just…consider it. And if you don't at least tell her she's invited, I will." And she knew he would.
"Alright," Sharon conceded after a long pause, "I will inform her that she is invited, but just so we are perfectly clear, I am not committing to anything beyond that." Gavin's giddy squeal was cut off as she continued, "And please, please stop harassing me about this at work. I really do have a job I need to focus on."
She hung up the phone without waiting for any further reply, shaking her head and sighing heavily, rubbing at her forehead once more.
"Inform who they're invited to what?"
She startled slightly, not having heard anyone come in. She was grateful she didn't have to bother schooling her features for the blonde. "You. And Gavin's annual Halloween party," Sharon said, her voice flat, "Please consider this your official invitation."
"Well geez, Sharon, you don't have to sound so excited about it. If you didn't want me to go with you, you could just say so," Brenda said, slumping and turning back toward the door. "You don't have to be mean about it." She wrenched open the door and stormed through the bullpen toward the elevators, her kitten heels sounding angrily against the linoleum flooring.
Great, just great. When Sharon caught up with Brenda near the elevators, the blonde turned away and veered toward the stairwell instead. Sharon followed after her, not saying anything just yet in case of prying ears. She followed Brenda all the way back to the Murder Room where the blonde promptly slammed her office door in Sharon's face causing her to pull up short and everyone in the room's eyes to go wide before they all suddenly became conspicuously engrossed in whatever activities they'd been working on before the two women blew in.
Without bothering to knock, Sharon opened the door and walked in, closing it firmly behind her, but careful not to let it slam. She took a step toward the blinds to close them, but then thought better of it and walked over to stand behind one of the chairs in front of Brenda's desk, her hands looking for non-existent pockets before settling on the back of the chair instead.
"Brenda, look at me," she pleaded as the blonde began angrily shuffling papers around on her desk, stubbornly refusing to make eye contact or in any way acknowledge the older woman's presence.
Sharon sighed heavily, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose, "Brenda, it's not about not wanting you to go with me. It's not about you at all. It's about me-–"
"Oh, 'It's not you it's me,' well, that just makes me feel a whole lot better," Brenda snapped, slamming a stack of files down with a loud slap. "Thank you, Captain Raydor, for clarifying the situation."
"No! It's not—" she stopped herself, taking a breath as her thighs hit the front of the desk. She wasn't sure when she had moved and she hadn't meant to yell, tried very hard not to raise her voice at work, but Brenda was just so frustrating sometimes she couldn't help herself.
"I don't want to go at all, okay?" she continued in a more normal volume as she sat down in one of the chairs. "I…I hate Halloween," she said quietly, staring at her hands.
Brenda's head shot up at the admission, eyes wide in disbelief, hands frozen mid-shuffle. How could anyone hate Halloween?!
"Every year, Gavin throws a huge party and every year we argue about it and he pulls out all the stops trying to get me to go even though he knows how much I dislike it," she sighs heavily, looking up now.
She could see the look of horror on Brenda's face, her mouth open and starting to form the first of what were likely a thousand questions. Sharon held up her hand, cutting her off before she could begin, "I don't have time to get into it more right now, I have a report due in," she paused to look at her watch, "an hour and a half and Chief Pope wasted the better part of my morning in a meeting that could just as easily have been an email. I would be happy to discuss it further with you later, I just—it truly isn't about not wanting to go with you, and I needed you to know that," she reiterated, holding Brenda's gaze until the other woman nodded her head slightly in acknowledgement.
"I promise we can talk more about it later—tonight, or whenever you have time—but I really do need to go wrap up this report now. She paused, "Are we okay?" she asked, the edge of uncertainty in her voice causing an uncomfortable tightness in Brenda's chest.
"Yeah, we're ok," Brenda said, her tone gentle, brown eyes finding green as she stood up to walk Sharon to the door. "Although I'm starting to wonder about you now, Captain," she teased, the corner of her mouth turning up slightly. "Wanna come over for dinner tonight? I have wine…and some questions."
"Certainly, Chief," Sharon said as she opened the door, "I'll expect to hear from you by the end of the day."
. . .
Brenda had hardly been able to focus for the entire rest of the day. Had forgotten to stop on the way home to pick up dinner, so had to hurry and call something in as soon as she got home.
How could Sharon hate Halloween?! Any holiday involving an excess of candy and sweets was reason enough to celebrate as far as Brenda was concerned.
She heard a car door close and was already at the door when Sharon knocked. She opened her mouth to say 'Hi' to the older woman, but what actually came out was, "How can you hate Halloween?!"
Sharon physically blanched at the greeting, rolling her eyes as she pushed past the blonde, holding a mock conversation with herself in an exaggerated, high-pitched drawl.
"Oh, hi Sharon, please come in. It's so nice to see you. How was the rest of your day? Hi Brenda, thank you for inviting me, the rest of my day was incredibly shitty, thank you for asking."
"Sharon Raydor! That was a terrible accent and not even remotely what I sound like!" Sharon crossed her arms and shot her a tired, half-hearted glare. "Okay, okay, point taken, Captain," Brenda said, deflating significantly. "Sorry…" she averted her eyes and pressed a glass of wine into the crabby brunette's hand before grabbing her own and moving toward the living room.
"The food should be here soon," she continued, flopping down on one end of the couch. She watched Sharon carefully fold one leg underneath her as she tucked herself into the other end, taking a sip of her wine and closing her eyes.
"I'm sorry the rest of your day was shitty. I know you're tired and I didn't mean for it to come out like that," she said, picking nervously at the hem of her shirt. "I was planning to at least wait until you had some wine and food in you, I really was, Sharon." Her words came tumbling out faster than she'd meant them to, but she hated when Sharon was upset with her and she felt compelled to try and fix things before she made them worse.
"I'm just having a teeny tiny bit of trouble understanding where you're coming from on this one," Brenda added more gently. She stopped then, leaving an opening she hoped Sharon would take so she didn't have to ask the question a second time.
Sharon took another large sip of her wine and sighed heavily. She'd had this conversation with Gavin so many times over the years she could feel herself preparing to recite the tired, hollow responses, everything about her flattening and dulling. But then she shook her head. This wasn't Gavin asking, it was Brenda. And as worn down as she felt, she reminded herself that she and Brenda had never talked about this before. Brenda wasn't asking for the 10,000th time trying to wear her down, she was asking because she genuinely wanted to know. Sharon at least owed the younger woman her full presence in the conversation. She took a moment to gather her thoughts and then began.
"It's, well, it's not any one thing. It's a lot of things all wound up together into something I…prefer to avoid." Brenda just nodded, allowing her space to continue now that she finally started to explain.
"Halloween as a single parent is hard enough, negotiating that while working for the LAPD was…less than ideal. Trying to come up with costumes for the kids when I had no money and even less time was difficult to say the least. Sometimes I don't know how I did it, getting home late and then staying up all night to make sure their costumes were ready, praying nobody would realize the reason their costumes were so "unique" and "creative" wasn't that I was "artsy," it was simply that I couldn't afford the expensive store-bought things all their friends had," she sighed. "If Ricky and Emily ever got made fun of, they never said anything about it."
"As cops, we see people at their worst, we know what kinds of horrors they're capable of inflicting on others, even on those who just happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sending my children to knock on strangers' doors trick-or-treating always felt like tempting fate. Ricky and Emily loved it, but I could never shake the worry, the feeling that if I blinked or looked away for even a second, something awful might happen to them…"
Sharon's voice cracked and she trailed off. She felt a warm hand on top of hers where it rested on her knee, a gentle squeeze, and she let out a shaky breath. She wasn't quite sure when Brenda had moved closer, but she was glad to have the blonde sitting next to her now instead of at the other end of the couch.
"As you know, Halloween means increased crime rates, which, in turn, means an increased chance of situations escalating to the point of triggering use-of-force investigations. And, while they may or may not have been made fun of for their costumes, my children can certainly attest to the fact that I 'ruined' more than one Halloween, either by cutting their trick-or-treating short to leave them home with a sitter or by pawning them off on classmates or families from church with whom they weren't particularly friendly for a sleepover because I got called in."
The corner of Sharon's mouth curled with the hint of a smirk, "Both of my children seem to have inherited my propensity for forthrightness when expressing…displeasure with something. It's quite an experience when they join forces in their efforts," she added with a chuckle.
The doorbell rang signaling their dinner had arrived. Once everything was unpacked and they were situated at the table, Sharon continued, "Being a parent at Halloween aside, I also hate the costumes and the dressing up as an adult." Brenda tilted her head slightly as she chewed, but said nothing.
"I used to get more upset about it, but at this point, I'm tired of the debates about slutty vs. non-slutty costumes for women and people judging, shaming, or otherwise providing unsolicited commentary no matter what choice they make. As far as I'm concerned, people should be able to wear what they want whether it's revealing or conservative or somewhere in between. Everyone should be able to choose for themselves. If a guy wants to dress as a scantily-clad nurse or if a woman wants to wear a t-shirt and jeans instead of some elaborate costume, let them. Just let them be."
Sharon stopped to take a bite of her food, "I dislike the pressure of it all, and I hate coming up with costume ideas for myself."
"But you're always dressed all fancy," Sharon snorted at Brenda's interjection. "What? I thought you liked picking out outfits and accessories and all that," the blonde added, gesturing at Sharon's put-together appearance.
Sharon hummed a negative response with a slight shake of her head. "I don't want to buy something I'm only ever going to wear once. And I'm certainly not shelling out money to rent some costume that Lord knows how many people have worn before," she shivered at the thought, "and that smells like stale perfume and cigarette smoke or Febreeze, but hasn't actually been dry cleaned in ages. No. There are plenty of other things I'd rather spend my money on." She paused for a sip of wine.
"And besides," she added, her tone changing, "I already spend most of my days in a type of costume, pretending to be someone else, someone who isn't phased by being constantly disliked and mistrusted by my fellow officers. The last thing I want to do in my limited time off is put on yet another costume."
Brenda could hear the weariness in her voice, and it went deeper than just the tiredness from today. She bumped the older woman's leg under the table until Sharon looked up and met Brenda's eyes with a sad smile and a shrug of one shoulder.
"I don't know," Sharon continued, sounding more like herself, "Halloween just doesn't have the same feel as other holidays. It seems to be about an excess of candy, sugar highs, and stranger danger for the little ones, and just an excuse to get wasted and make poor choices for the adults—but with the added requirement of costumes," she made a face, "What's the point? It feels more like a college frat party I'd rather not attend than a holiday…"
"Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against sweets in general," she clarified before Brenda could explode, "It's just that if I have that much extra candy around, I'll end up eating it and I'll regret it. Not all of us have your superhuman metabolism, and my wardrobe is far too expensive to be constantly replacing things that have become too tight. Although I'm sure Elaine wouldn't mind the extra business one bit," she added with a playful roll of her eyes.
Brenda smiled at that, remembering her own interactions with Elaine and the amount of money she'd managed to spend even with the discount.
Sharon took one final bite of her dinner before pushing her plate slightly away from herself. "And lastly, I am not a fan of scary movies or haunted houses." Brenda's fork stopped momentarily on its way to her mouth. It was almost imperceptible, but Sharon caught it.
"You know how much I love surprises, so you can imagine what jump scares do to me, especially as a police officer. I see enough violence and gore at work, and the psychological horror films are the worst of all—they give me nightmares worse than most crime scenes." She shook her head and Brenda watched a shiver travel through her body as she reached for her wine.
"My, Captain, that's certainly not what I was expecting. Thank you for explaining," Brenda replied with a smile, trying to picture Sharon in a haunted house or watching a scary movie.
"Well I, for one, love Halloween. I can load as much candy as I want in my cart for a whole month and the cashiers don't give me judgy looks because they assume it's for trick-or-treaters and not just for me." Sharon snorted, unsurprised by the blonde's revelation.
"I hadn't really given that much thought to the rest of it, not having kids and all. I can't remember the last time I was home to hand out candy and not at a crime scene. Like you said, crime rates go up this time of year—not that I'd be willing to share my chocolate with strangers anyway," Brenda muttered, causing Sharon to snort again.
"And I don't really have friends—outside of work—so since Fritz and I split up, I haven't exactly had a lot of party invitations. And even before, he mostly went by himself because I was at work…" she shrugged and Sharon nodded, both women sitting for a moment in silence.
"So," Brenda wondered aloud, "if he knows how much you hate Halloween, why on Earth is Gavin pestering you so much about his party?"
Sharon sighed heavily, "Gavin loves parties and he loves dressing up, so he doesn't understand how anyone could possibly feel differently about it than he does." She paused, swirling the wine around in her glass, "And he also loves to try and get me drunk."
Brenda's head tipped to one side again, regarding the other woman closely, "Really, Captain? Any particular reason?"
Sharon hesitated before speaking, but she'd already brought it up and she doubted Brenda would let this one go now that she had. Sharon could see the look in the other woman's eyes.
"Once, years ago, after I wrapped up a particularly rough case and came home to find Jack had left again, I got drunk at one of Gavin's parties and ended up dancing on a table." Brenda's brown eyes went wide, and it was an effort to keep her mouth from dropping open in surprise.
"One time," Sharon continued shaking her head and chuckling to herself. "It was just a coffee table and I wasn't the only one, but the shock of it seems to have burned the incident into Gavin's memory banks and he's been angling to get me to cut loose like that again ever since. I keep telling him it's not going to happen, but that doesn't stop him from trying."
She sighed again, "I go to plenty of his other parties, I just don't want to go to this one. But every year the Halloween party gets bigger and bigger, and every year he whines and pesters and guilt trips to try to get me to go.. This time, I think he might want to show off his new boyfriend—none of us have met him yet. And Gavin made it very clear that I was to be sure and invite you. I'm actually pretty upset with him about that—" she held up a finger when she saw Brenda's mouth open in protest.
"Under normal circumstances, I would be happy about him making an effort to include…you. What I do not appreciate is him using you to try to manipulate me into going to something he knows full well I have no interest in attending."
"Ok," Brenda nodded, pouring them both more wine and waving off Sharon's attempt to clear the table, gesturing instead toward the couch.
"So, let's review our options. Number one, we tell him to go jump in a lake because we have other plans and we throw ourselves our own private Halloween party—no costumes, clothing optional at best." Sharon chuckled and tried to hide it behind her glass as she once again folded herself carefully into one end of the couch.
"Well, that's likely out of the question at this point…Gavin already asked me this morning if we had other plans together and I was so upset with him harassing me at work that said 'No' before I could think better of it," she admitted sheepishly.
"Ok, so tell him I went ahead and made plans for us that you didn't know about yet when you talked with him this morning. Or I can," she shrugged, "It wouldn't be the first or last time I make a unilateral decision without consulting the other parties involved."
Sharon shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, but Brenda beat her to the punch. "It's not necessarily a lie, Sharon. How do you know I don't have plans for Halloween? For us? You invited me to Gavin's—grudgingly—but I have yet to officially respond to the invitation."
"Option two," she continued, "we make a brief appearance at the party with no costumes and then leave. That way at least he can't say you didn't show up. Number three—wait, is this just a general Halloween party or is there a theme or something?"
"Oh, this is Gavin we're talking about. There is most definitely a theme," Sharon confirmed. "This year's theme is 'uniforms.' And before you even suggest it, no, I will not, under any circumstances, be wearing my LAPD uniform to this party." The finality in Sharon's tone left no room for discussion.
"My word, Sharon, nobody is going to make you wear your dress blues. I don't particularly want to wear mine either, they're not exactly designed for comfort and not something I choose to wear in my free time—or even on the clock unless it's required…"
Sharon nodded in agreement, her posture relaxing. They both sat quietly sipping their wine, but she could see the wheels turning in the younger woman's head before she finally broke the silence.
"Ok, option three, we go to the party and wear some other type of uniform."
"What do you mean 'other type of uniform'? I'm not—"
"Just hear me out, Sharon," Brenda said, raising a hand. "You and I are police officers," Sharon nodded her head slowly, curious to hear where this was going.
"And we have certain clothing items that we wear to work regularly, that people recognize and associate with us" Sharon nodded again.
"So…couldn't that make it a type of uniform?"
"Brenda, you want us to dress up as ourselves? How is that different from option 2?"
"First of all, at least for you, what you wear to work and what you wear outside of work are two very different things. So no, it's not the same as option 2. Second of all, no, I'm not suggesting we dress up as ourselves, I'm suggesting we dress up as each other," Brenda concluded, a smirk spreading across her face as she watched Sharon's eyes go wide and her features shift from confusion to horror to…something else. Like maybe she was actually considering it after all. Brenda watched her, waiting.
"You know…I can't believe I'm saying this being as familiar as I am with your wardrobe—maybe it's the wine talking—but option three is sounding like it could actually be, well, an option. The look on Gavin's face might just be worth it. He certainly wouldn't be expecting…that," she chuckled. "We still wouldn't have to stay very long, but at least then he couldn't give me shit for not going with the theme—at least tangentially…"
Brenda's grin widened and she leaned in to place a chaste kiss on Sharon's lips. The older woman pulled back briefly, "What was that for?"
The blonde just shrugged, eyes focused on Sharon's wine-stained lips, and Sharon pressed their lips together again, leaning forward and deepening the kiss when Brenda started to pull away. The two shared one more brief kiss before Brenda took Sharon's hand and stood up, tugging gently for the brunette to stand and follow her toward the bedroom. Once they were both standing, she dropped Sharon's hand to grab her glass and the rest of the wine, and the two women retreated to Brenda's bedroom to look through her closet for viable 'costume' options.
. . .
At some point, the fashion show had devolved into Brenda helping Sharon out of clothes and making no further effort to get her into any new ones. Warm fingers gently caressing exposed skin had turned into a make-out session that had moved from the closet to the bed as things escalated, the remaining 'costume' options laying draped over a chair, forgotten.
They hadn't had sex since their hurried encounter in Sharon's kitchen. They'd both been busy with work and, despite her body's actions to the contrary, Sharon hadn't quite been ready to go there again right away, needing some time to process the emotions their first encounter had brought up.
Sharon now found herself with Brenda straddling her hips and nuzzling behind her ear in a way that caused shivers to course down her spine. The blonde paused to inhale the older woman's scent before kissing her way down Sharon's exposed chest toward her bra-clad breasts. Just as her mouth made contact with the soft skin along the edge of her bra, Sharon's phone began to ring. Groaning, the older woman's hand reached out toward the edge of the bed, searching for where they had tossed their phones earlier before the fashion show had started. Brenda tried her best to ignore the sound and continue her ministrations, but as soon as Sharon's hand connected with the cold phone, she sat up, forcing Brenda up with her. Running a hand through her hair and licking her kiss-swollen lips, she answered the call on the last ring, not bothering to look at the caller ID.
"Raydor," she said sharply as she waited to find out the reason for the ill-timed interruption, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.
"Oh good, mom, you picked up!"
"Ricky!" Sharon exclaimed, her body going rigid, eyes widening in surprise as she held the phone away from her for a second, still trying to get her breathing under control. "How are you, sweetie?" She added after too long of a pause.
Her voice sounded slightly too high to Ricky and he could hear movement on the other end of the phone. It sounded like fabric shifting, maybe?
"Hey, where are you?" He asked. It didn't sound like she was at a crime scene, but he didn't want to bother her if she was in the middle of a reporting cycle and pressed for time.
"Did you need something?" Sharon asked, attempting to sidestep his question with one of her own. There was a sharp intake of breath from his mother and then what sounded like a dull smack.
Ricky paused, "Are you at work or something?" He could have sworn he heard a muffled giggle in the background as he continued, "I'm in town and just stopped by the condo, but you're not here…"
Sharon shoved Brenda off of her none-too-gently and left her vicinity, closing herself in the bathroom as she tried to clear her mind and focus on the conversation with her son.
"You're at the condo? Now?!" The background sounded different now, more echoey and he wondered again where she was.
"Yeah, I had a meeting in town and then was out catching up with some friends and figured I'd stop in to see you, crash in the guest room for the night, and head back tomorrow…Mom, are you ok?"
"Yes, honey, I'm fine. I—what a wonderful surprise! I'll be there in about…20 minutes. Did you eat? There are leftovers in the fridge if you want anything. Help yourself!"
"Mom, it's after 10pm."
"Right…" How was it already after 10pm? She knew they'd gotten a little…off-task, but…she shook her head. "Well, you just sit tight and I'll see you soon, sweetie," she added before abruptly hanging up the phone.
Ricky pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it for a minute. Yep, she'd just hung up on him.
Sharon looked at herself in the mirror. She was a mess. She took the opportunity to use the bathroom and clean herself up. She pulled her hair up into a messy ponytail and then grabbed one of Brenda's make-up wipes to clean up under her eyes where some of her makeup had settled before scrubbing at the smear of lipstick she discovered trailing down her neck. Feeling slightly more in control of herself, she opened the bathroom door again, a pained expression on her face as her eyes found Brenda. The blonde was sitting on the edge of the bed now facing her, hair a mess, bra-clad torso exposed enticingly.
"I'm so sorry, Brenda, but I have to cut our evening short. Ricky's at the condo right now waiting for me…" she leaned in and gave the blonde a soft, apologetic kiss before gathering up her clothing. Once she was fully dressed, she collected the last two outfits they'd selected for her to try on before their…diversion, draping them over her arm.
"Thank you for dinner and for…this," she said, gesturing toward the closet and holding up the outfits. Still somewhat stunned from the abrupt change of course, Brenda just nodded before they shared one more lingering kiss and then she watched the slightly panicked brunette breeze out of the room and heard the front door click closed behind her moments later.
Brenda tried not to sulk, this certainly wasn't the first time one of Sharon's children had accidentally interrupted one of their evenings together. She was just glad it wasn't an emergency at work. But still, she couldn't help the droop of her shoulders as she picked up the half-empty wine glasses from the top of her dresser and shuffled back through the house to the kitchen. She paused and then poured what was left of Sharon's glass into her own, taking a sip before depositing Sharon's empty glass in the sink. She emptied the remaining wine from the bottle into her glass as well and then headed over to lock the front door.
She set her now dangerously-full wine glass on the coffee table and retrieved her phone from the bedroom. Flopping down on the couch, she turned on the TV and began surfing as she took a large, careful sip from her glass.
. . .
Sharon flew into the condo, apologizing before the door was even fully open. She dropped both her purse and the extra clothing and then ran over to give her son a hug.
She smelled different, he noticed. Maybe a new perfume? Ricky took in her appearance. Pink hair tie in her hair, clothing piled on the floor next to her purse.
"Ricky! It's so good to see you!" she exclaimed, running her fingers through his slightly shaggy hair, causing him to make a face and pull away.
"Hey Mom. Sorry I didn't call first. So…where were you?"
"Oh, I was just over at a friend's for dinner."
"Dinner. You must have been running late to still be having dinner at—" he paused to look at his watch, "11pm…"
"I've been in the car for the last 20 minutes or so, so that doesn't count."
"Ok, so, 10pm then. Must have been a rough day at the office."
"Hmmm, yes, it was," Sharon hummed in agreement, "but we didn't eat that late. We were—Gavin is throwing a Halloween party," she made a terrible face. "He's insisting I go this year and won't take no for an answer. So I was trying to sort out some sort of costume and we may have gotten a little carried away and lost track of time," she explained.
"You and…Gavin?"
"Oh, no. Gavin is not privy to the costume discussion," she said a little sharply. "He's the one forcing me to go, so he can wait and find out what it is when we show up at the party like everyone else. I'm sorry I kept you waiting, honey," she said, squeezing his arm. "I didn't know you'd be stopping by tonight. I got here as quickly as I could. Can I get you something to eat?"
"Mom, it's 11pm, I already ate."
"Not even a snack?" she offered, he'd never been one to shy away from extra meals, but Ricky just shook his head 'No.'
"So…if you weren't with Gavin, who were you with?" he asked at the same time Sharon said, "How about something to drink?" Her mouth went dry as Ricky continued to press for an answer to the question she'd been trying to avoid, seemingly unphased by her attempts to steer the conversation elsewhere.
"Hmm?" She asked, trying to buy herself a little time.
"Do you have any beer? I only saw wine in the fridge."
"No, I don't think so, but I've got vodka and…whiskey if you'd prefer one of those to wine?"
Ricky thought about the early morning drive ahead of him and shook his head. "No thanks, I need to get an early start tomorrow."
"How about some tea, then?" Sharon offered.
"Sure," he gave in with a shrug.
Sharon put the water on and then moved back to collect Brenda's outfits from where she'd unceremoniously deposited them upon her arrival.
"Wow, that's a lot of pink. And flowers." Ricky commented when she was halfway across the living room having crossed behind the couch and only just returned to his line of sight.
"Tell me about it…" she mumbled as she resumed her path toward her bedroom to hang them up.
"What is it? Wait—are you actually going to wear that?!" The look of surprise and horror on Ricky's face made the corners of her mouth twitch in a faint smirk. Despite his own slightly rumpled appearance, it was good to know he had some sense of fashion. Sharon stopped again and let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"I don't know yet. Not all of it. It's a couple different outfits."
"…Is that supposed to make it better?"
"No—I—I haven't even tried them on yet. You called, so I brought them home with me to try on later. Just give me a minute to hang them up, I'll be right back."
Sharon re-emerged just as the kettle whistled signaling the water was ready.
Ricky followed his mother to the kitchen and sat at the breakfast bar as she prepared their tea.
"So, where did you get those outfits, anyway? They're definitely not your style…is Gavin's theme 90's midwestern housewives or school teachers or something?"
Sharon snorted, grateful she'd waited and didn't have a mouthful of hot tea.
"No. Gavin has…an appreciation for uniforms, so that has become the theme for this year's party."
"Uniforms. How on earth is any of that," he said, gesturing toward the hallway, "in any way related to uniforms?! Why don't you just wear your police uniform? That seems like a no-brainer."
Sharon sighed, "Ricky, I'm not going to wear my dress blues to one of Gavin's parties. You know how they can get. I would probably end up having to buy a whole new uniform. Plus, it's scratchy and uncomfortable and the material doesn't breathe. I have no desire to spend my entire evening in physical discomfort when I'm already not pleased about attending in the first place."
"Ok fine. I still don't see how any of that stuff fits the bill."
"They're Brenda's," Sharon said matter-of-factly, as if that clarified everything, before bringing her cup to her lips to blow on the hot liquid.
"Brenda's." It was a statement, but clearly meant as a question.
When she just nodded, taking a sip of her tea, Ricky pressed further.
"You said 'when we show up at the party' earlier. Is this Brenda going with you to the party?"
"Hmmm, yes," she hummed, nodding her head, willing the color not to rise to her cheeks. Hoping that offering up additional information would cause her suddenly nosy son to stop pulling on this particular thread, she elaborated, "Brenda works with me. Well, not exactly with me, historically more against me, really, but we're working on it…" She shook her head, refocusing on her explanation.
"In any case, we were talking about it tonight and since I really don't want to wear my dress blues and we're both LAPD officers, she suggested we could dress up as each other." She punctuated the explanation with a shrug of one shoulder and took another sip of tea.
"Wow, you must really hate your dress blues…" he commented, taking a sip of his own tea. "She really dresses like that? Like, every day?" he asked, incredulously.
"Hmm, most days, yes," Sharon answered, rolling her eyes playfully, her lip curving up in the hint of a smile. "We did manage to get her a couple decent pencil skirts recently, though."
Sharon's phone dinged indicating an incoming text message and Ricky reached over to grab the phone for her. He could see the whole message previewed across the top of the screen and couldn't help but read it. All he said was, "It says it's from BLJ, is that Brenda?" as he handed it over.
Sharon took the phone from him and opened the message, squinting slightly in concentration as she read the small type, the corner of her mouth curling up of its own volition.
Hope you made it home ok. Enjoy your time with Ricky. - B
"Yes. I was in a bit of a hurry earlier when I left after you called. She was just making sure I got home ok."
Ricky's attention shifted back to his mother's slightly rumpled appearance, her wrinkled shirt, her normally impeccable hair barely contained by a bright pink elastic. She had been trying on clothes, though, and it was late. No reason for her to be all dressed up or made up at this hour.
Her phone buzzed a second time and she smiled fully this time, shaking her head at the screen.
"And making it clear that she expects to see the remaining two 'costume' options before any final determinations are made."
Ricky's face broke into a sly smile, "Why don't you go ahead and try them on then?"
"What? Now?!"
"Sure, why not? That way I can take pictures for you," Sharon looked dubious. "Come on, mom, it'll be a lot easier for me to take full body shots than for you to try to do them yourself later. When you do it, you always end up with the phone right in the middle blocking everything."
She made a face at him and rolled her eyes before looking back at her phone, "...Are you sure? You said yourself it's getting late and you have an early morning."
"Sure, it won't take long. We can do it while we finish our tea. She's still up and texting you anyway."
Sharon sighed, giving in and sending off a quick text to Brenda.
Ricky is suggesting I try them on now so he can take pictures for me…will you be up for a little bit yet? - S
Brenda's reply was a picture of a mostly full wine glass followed by:
At least until I finish our wine…Go for it! : ) - B
"Ok, Ricky, she says she's up for it. She's still finishing the rest of our wine. Why don't you go make yourself comfortable on the couch, I'll be back in a minute," she suggested, tossing her phone down on the middle cushion as she walked past.
When she came back out a few minutes later, Sharon was frowning and her hands were desperately seeking nonexistent pockets. Ricky had to choke back a snort that he quickly tried to disguise as a cough. She was wearing a floral a-line skirt paired with a two-toned pink sweater set. The skirt didn't quite sit right on her hips causing the material to bunch a little awkwardly at the waist just under the hem of the shirt and making what should have been smooth lines look somewhat rumpled.
"Well, that's, uh, certainly…a look," Ricky ventured, reaching for her phone. He handed it to her so she could unlock the screen again and then he snapped a couple photos. One from the front, one that gave a partial side angle, both photos prominently featuring Sharon's displeased frown. He attached the images to the text thread with Brenda and sent them off. He desperately wanted to send copies to himself and his sister, but Sharon was watching him closely with an all-too-familiar glare.
"Thank you," she said, snatching the phone from his grasp and taking it with her back into the bedroom just to be on the safe side. She opened the conversation again and typed out a brief message of her own before moving to try on the second option.
That one is definitely a No - S
She was about to head back to the living room when her phone started dinging again.
You're right.
Take it off!
Followed by a displeased, frowning emoji.
I usually am ; ) - S
Brenda texted back an emoji sticking its tongue out.
I can't take it off and text at the same time. Trying on the last one now. - S
It took a little longer this time, but she reappeared in the living room wearing a vintage ¾ sleeve dress covered in tiny flowers ranging from white to pale pink to dark pink. Although it wasn't Sharon's style or her colors, it actually fit her quite well. It sported a higher neckline, but was fitted through the bodice showing off her figure before opening into a gentle a-line skirt that hit right at her knee. On Brenda, it hit slightly below the knee, but it still worked.
She stepped closer to Ricky, who was still staring at her in surprise, and handed him her phone again.
"Wow, mom. This one actually doesn't look half bad—I mean, aside from all the pink and the flowers," he admitted as he stood to take a few pictures.
Her face was more neutral this time even as she tugged a little self-consciously at the top of the skirt, trying to adjust the snugly-fitting bodice.
"Stop fussing and hold still for a minute. I can't get a good picture if you keep moving around like that. Ok, now maybe try to smile a little? Got it."
Ricky sat back down on the couch and reviewed the pictures before selecting a few to send to Brenda. The phone dinged almost immediately with a response.
A line of three heart eye emojis and then a picture of a different dress laying pooled on the floor. Confused, Ricky turned the phone to show the cryptic response to his mother. He wasn't sure if it was just the colors of the dress, but it looked like his mom's face had a little more color in it than it had before.
Sharon looked at the new messages, the photo was of the dress Brenda had not-so-carefully removed from her right before their make-out session earlier. Sharon quickly grabbed the device and headed to her bedroom to change, dialing Brenda as she went. She closed the door and made a beeline straight into her closet.
"Brenda!" Sharon hissed as soon as the blonde picked up.
"What? What's wrong?"
"Ricky had my phone since he was the one taking pictures of me. He was very confused by your last message."
"Oh! Sharon, I'm sorry, I didn't realize it wasn't you. I hope I didn't—"
"No, I think it's ok. He didn't understand the last picture," she said with a quiet chuckle. "I grabbed the phone and came back to my room to change. I just—I haven't said anything to the kids yet and—"
"Sharon, it's ok. How long is he staying?"
"He's driving back early tomorrow morning. I have the phone back and I'll be keeping it now, so it's fine."
"So I can send whatever I want then?" Brenda's voice was low and playful.
"Brenda Leigh Johnson!" Brenda giggled, the wine was starting to go to her head.
"I have to hurry up and change before Ricky starts to wonder what happened to me," Sharon said, surprisingly reluctant to hang up the phone.
"Sharon, honey, go spend time with Ricky, we can talk more later," Brenda said through a yawn.
"Ok. Do me a favor, though?
"What?"
"Get a couple glasses of water in you before you fall asleep. Please?" Sharon pleaded, concern lacing her voice.
"Aye aye, Captain," Brenda said, pushing herself up from the couch to head to the kitchen.
"Thank you," Sharon said with a smile as she heard the muffled sound of water filling a glass. "Ok, I've got to go now. Goodbye, Brenda."
"Bye, Sharon."
Sharon quickly changed and went back out to finish her tea with Ricky. Her phone dinging once more as she sat down.
I think that last one might be the winner, but we'll need to do a final elimination round with the other one from earlier just to be sure - B
Sharon smiled at her phone and typed out a response.
I'm sure that can be arranged. Maybe you can bring the other one over some night this week? We still have to find something that will work for you. And figure out shoes and what we're doing with our hair… - S
Drink your water and get some sleep. I'll talk to you tomorrow. -S
Ricky watched in amusement as his mom finished texting her friend, trying to remember the last time something other than work had pulled her focus. She locked her phone, still smiling, and deposited it face down on the coffee table, trading it for her tea.
"Thank you for helping, sweetie. I'm sorry it took so long," she said apologetically.
"No problem, it was kind of fun, actually. And it didn't take that long. The tea is still warm," he replied, gesturing to her cup.
"I have a feeling it would have taken a lot longer if you'd been left to do it on your own."
Sharon shot him a half-hearted glare over her tea cup that quickly morphed into a smile, her eyes bright. It might not have been how she planned to end her evening tonight, but she was overjoyed to be able to spend some time with her baby boy. "So, what's going on with you? Tell me more about this meeting you had today…"