Another chapter complete. This one is less angst-filled than the last two have been. It's still not dinner time at the Reagans yet, but I'm getting there, I promise. Thank you so much for the kind feedback. Enjoy your read.
Pick Up on Aisle 10: Chapter 10
Henry looked up when Frank's phone rang late that night. He grinned knowingly at the delighted smile on his son's face, knowing who was at the other end of the call before he even answered.
"Hey, Lucy."
He put down his book, settling back into his chair as he listened to her.
Wanting to give them some privacy, Henry rose.
"Think I'll head upstairs," he told Frank in a low voice.
The younger man nodded.
"Night, Pops. See you in the morning." He listened a moment. "Lucy says 'good night,' too."
"Same to her."
As he climbed the stairs, he could hear the quiet murmuring of Frank's voice as they conversed, the occasional low burst of laughter.
He raised his gaze heavenward.
"Thank you, God. He really needs this."
The next morning, Frank found himself reaching again for his phone on the drive in to work. He told himself he needed to check up on her, to see how she was feeling this morning.
Truthfully, he wanted to hear her voice again.
He breathed a sigh of relief when she answered the phone, her tone warm and relaxed. She assured him that she had slept well and that her morning routine had served her well this morning, the nausea passing before it could become a problem today.
"Good. Glad to hear it," he commented.
They continued to chat until he arrived at 1PP, the ride seeming far shorter than usual to him.
Lucy puttered around her house, finding herself humming softly as she took care of some cleaning. She tried not to think about the fact that she looked forward to these daily conversations with Francis and that they always seemed to put her in a good mood.
'Thank you, Lord, for letting me screw up with a great guy,' she muttered, resting a hand on her belly.
Was it beginning to pooch a little, she wondered, stopping to examine herself in the mirror.
Maybe.
And if it wasn't now, it would soon enough.
She needed to get some things settled. Make some decisions.
Picking up her cell, she scrolled through her contacts, finally finding the number she wanted. After a moment of thought, she took a deep breath and pushed the button to make the call.
A familiar voice answered and she froze for a moment.
"Hello?"
Clearing her throat, she tried to speak.
"Hello?"
She thought back, remembering the feeling of safety
"Henry?"
"Yes?"
"It's Lucy," she told him. "Lucy Makenna."
"Hello, Lucy. How are you doing this morning?"
"I'm good. You? I'm not calling too early, am I?"
"Oh, no," he assured her. "I get up early. Get Francis's breakfast, then get my day started."
"Do you have a few minutes? There's a couple of things I wanted to talk to you about."
"I have all the time in the world, Doll. That's the joy of being retired.'
"And you hate it, don't you?"
"I do," he admitted. "I've never been one for sitting around on my duff. That's why I took up cooking."
"Well, if Monday night's dinner was any indication, you have a definite talent for it.'
Henry laughed. "I'm glad you feel that way, considering how sick Francis said you were the next morning."
"I wasn't really sick and it had absolutely nothing to do with your cooking," she told him. "In fact, the leftovers you sent home with me were my dinner last night as well. It tasted every bit as marvelous and I'm perfectly fine this morning."
"I'm glad to hear that." He paused for a moment. "Have you had breakfast yet? You probably have, right?"
"I have," she confirmed. "Had my morning crackers, walked on my treadmill for a bit, talked to Francis, and had some fruit and yogurt. Just cleaning up a bit now before I shower and head in to work."
"Francis called you this morning?"
"He did. On his way in to work, I suppose. I think he wanted to make sure I was being truthful about the morning sickness not being bad."
"Apparently your idea of 'not that bad' is very different from his," he told her.
"I guess. It may have been more about the memories that the situation brought back than about me."
"Memories?"
"Mary. The side effects from the chemo."
"Yeah. That was bad. He felt so helpless. As did I. Just like we did with his mother a couple of years earlier."
"I'm sorry, Henry. I realized early in my oncology rotation that I was not cut out for that particular field."
"I imagine emergency medicine is no picnic either."
"No, I suppose not. But it's a 'crazy' that I can deal with."
Henry laughed. "What time does your 'crazy' start today? Would you be able to have lunch with me?"
"I'm in at noon this week," she told him, regret clear in her voice.
"Then how about brunch?" he asked. "Aren't you supposed to be eating multiple small meals? Something every few hours?"
"As a matter of fact, I am. I do plan to have something else before I head to the hospital," she admitted.
"There you go, then. Get yourself ready for work and come over here. I'll fix something to eat and we can have that talk before you head in."
She hesitated. "I really don't want to put you to any trouble."
"It's no trouble at all," he assured her. "I'm fixing something for myself, so adding a little more is no problem at all. And I hate eating alone, so your company would be more than welcome."
"If you're sure…"
"Absolutely sure," he confirmed. "I'll see you in about an hour."
After ending the call, Lucy showered and pulled on a fresh set of scrubs. She frowned, noting that her top was definitely feeling tighter around her bust.
'Part of the process,' she reminded herself.
An hour later, she was ringing the doorbell at the Reagan home. Henry opened the door, a broad smile on his face. He invited her in, taking her jacket and hanging it on the coat rack before opening his arms for a hug.
"i'm so glad you could join me. I'm just fixing some omelets. I hope that's okay with you," he told her, leading her into the kitchen. "I suppose I'm going to need to get to know your preferences if you're going to be a regular here. Or a resident," he commented with a questioning glance.
"I'm about as far from a picky eater as a person can be. I will eat just about anything, though right now some things are off the menu."
"Not vegan, vegetarian, keto or any of those other 'terian' things?" he asked.
"Nope. No food allergies or sensitivities either. Just certain things that are advised against during pregnancy."
Henry nodded. "I did some research on that when Jamie and Eddie announced her pregnancy, so I've already been avoiding that stuff. Fish, undercooked meats, unpasteurized stuff. Things are well cleaned and cooked thoroughly. Anything else I should be aware of?"
Lucy shook her head. "Sounds like you're looking out for your family."
"It's what I've always done," he told her. "Just differently."
"Oh." She held up a box. "I brought some muffins. Orange cranberry."
"Homemade?"
She nodded.
"You didn't have to do that," he told her, reaching out to take the box, "But if they're as tasty as the cookies Francis brought home on Saturday, I'm very glad you did."
"What can I do to help?" she asked, looking around.
He pointed to a chair. "Have a seat and keep me company."
She opened her mouth to argue, and he gave her a stern look.
"I'm not helpless," she protested.
He thought for a moment. "Can you chop vegetables?"
"If I hadn't gone into emergency medicine, I was leaning towards surgery," she told him. "So, I'm pretty good with sharp instruments."
Nodding, he moved a cutting board to the table along with red and yellow peppers and a tomato, then handed her a knife.
"Take care of that and I'll get the sausage cooking," he told her.
The two worked in comfortable silence for several minutes before he glanced back over his shoulder at her.
"What was it you wanted to talk to me about, Doll?" he asked.
She looked over at him. "A couple of things, I suppose."
"Okay." He checked the sausage, then came over to sit across from her.
"First of all…Francis."
He nodded for her to continue.
"He introduced himself to me as 'Frank,' so that was what I was calling him. Anyone else that addressed him when we were together did so as Sir or Commissioner. When we were here the other night, you were calling him by his full name."
Henry nodded again. "I always do."
"We were kind of joking around and I called him 'Francis' as well."
"Yes." He got up, taking the vegetables she had chopped to the counter where he started whisking the eggs for the omelets.
She followed with the cutting board and knife, putting them in the sink.
"When I called him that, it kind of clicked, you know. It felt that it suited him better. It felt…right."
"Clearly, I've always thought so," he told her, turning to look at her as he motioned her back to the table.
"It's just…I understand that sometimes names or nicknames are sometimes only used within the family or by certain people or groups of friends. I wanted to be sure I wouldn't be stepping on toes if I kept on using that."
"Did you ask him what he thought?"
"I did. He said he would be okay with it. But I wanted to check with you, too, since he said you're the only one who still calls him that."
Henry sighed. "I suppose I am. That was all his mother ever called him, too. In fact, she used to get downright irritated when people shortened it to 'Frank,' even when he was okay with it."
He set the milk jug and a couple of glasses on the table in front of her.
"Eventually, she came to terms with it, though she absolutely refused to use it herself."
While she poured the milk, he took the sausage from the skillet and placed it on a plate with paper towels to soak up the excess grease, then carefully poured the egg mixture into a pan.
"Honestly? It was a little odd to hear someone else refer to him by Francis, but I got the impression that he kind of liked it."
"He said he did," she replied. "That it felt different, but nice."
"I have no issue with you calling him that, if that's what the two of you want," he assured her.
He brought the plates to the table, poured them each a cup of coffee, then took his seat across from her again. Opening the box she had brought, he pulled out one of the muffins she had brought to set on her plate, then another on his.
Grace was offered and they both dug in, each praising the other's contribution to the meal.
"What else is on your mind?" Henry asked.
"I want to know how you really feel about this whole situation that Francis and I have gotten ourselves into."
She looked across at him.
"His solution…us getting married and me moving in here…that's some major upheaval in your life. More cooking. One more person in your house, leaving things lying around, making noise. Being limited in what I can do. Possibly going on bed rest at some point."
"I'm aware."
"Then, the babies. They cry. They're smelly. They need so much stuff. Clothes and diapers and play pens and highchairs and carriers and car seats. All times two."
"Plus whatever would be needed when Jamie and Eddie bring their little one over."
"Exactly. But he won't be here all the time. These two would be," she reminded him.
"It's going to be an adjustment, for all of us, but I'm of the opinion that it's the best option for all involved. I think it will be nice to have someone else around the house. To have you around. And, like I said before, family is about taking care of each other when we can. That means I look out for you, help with what you can't do, later on, when you're not pregnant anymore, you can help me out with the things I can't do anymore because I'm still going to be old. Still won't be driving."
He reached over and patted her hand.
"I know that babies are noisy and smelly and seem to need a whole lot of stuff. And I'm fine with that."
"You're sure?"
"I am. Those are my grandbabies. I know that there's a good chance that I won't be around long enough for them to remember me, but I look forward to being able to spend as much time as possible with them. That, maybe, somehow, they'll at least feel how much their gramps loved them."
"Hopefully, you'll be around for years to come. You're the only grandparent they'll have."
"Hopefully, but doubtful. Just be sure you get plenty of pictures."
"Definitely."
"So, in a nutshell, I'm all for the marriage and you and the kids living with us," he assured her.
"That's good. What about the rest of the family?
"Ah, yes. The rest of the family."
She waited for him to continue.
"They will most certainly have their opinions."
"That bad?"
Henry sighed. "Look, Lucy. If you make Francis happy…and you do…they will come around. Eventually."
"Eventually."
"The news will probably not go over well in the beginning," he admitted. "As I said, it will be an adjustment for everyone. I think there's a tendency to not think of our parents as normal human beings with normal drives and needs. They all still miss Mary, of course, and aren't ready to think about Francis with another woman."
"But he said he's dated some. Even had a couple of intimate relationships since her passing."
Henry nodded. "He has. But he kept that part of his life very low key. None of those relationships were ever serious enough for him to really even talk about with the kids, much less ever introduce them."
"And he's only introducing me because I slipped up and got pregnant."
"No. I'm of the opinion that the pregnancy only sped things up. I think there was a spark between you two and something could have easily developed anyway, if he had been willing to let his guard down."
"That's a big 'if,' Henry. Francis strikes me as a man who is very protective of his privacy. Probably even with those he cares about most."
"And that's one of those things he wouldn't let many people get close enough to realize about him."
She bit her lip. "You don't think any of them are going to like me very much, do you?"
"They won't like the situation," he corrected. "They won't know you well enough to like or dislike."
She raised an eyebrow.
"I'm sure they'll come around when they get to know you. See how happy Francis is with you. And the babies."
"And how long do you think that will take?"
HE sighed again. "I can't really say. You're a delight and they're actually good kids, but…"
"But this is their father or grandfather and I'm not Mary and she's the only one he should be with," she finished for him.
"And they're hard headed, stubborn Reagans."
"So, just be patient," she concluded.
"Be patient. The younger ones may come around quicker. Jack probably doesn't remember much about his grandmother and Sean even less. Joe never met her, so they're less likely to feel like you're trying to replace her or that Francis is betraying her somehow. Plus, you bake like a pro, and those boys love their treats."
He paused to pop his last bite in his mouth.
"Nicky adored her grandma, but she's a very kind hearted young woman and more willing to see the good in people. She's also always been very close to her grandfather and is more likely to have seen his loneliness than the others."
Motioning for her to stay seated, he gathered up their plates and headed towards the sink.
"Eddie would probably be okay with you, but she might hang back a bit and just follow Jamie's lead. Or she might not. She's very much her own person, usually, but the pregnancy has been a bit rough on her…not what she expected it to be. I think she's feeling a little less confident than normal right now."
"I can understand that," Lucy commented.
"And the fact that the two of you are in the same situation might help, too. Having something so major in common, same journey and all that."
"True."
"I'm not sure about Jamie's reaction. He's usually the calm, rational one, willing to look at things from different angles before coming to a decision. Right now, though, I think he's a bit emotional as well. The reality of impending fatherhood has him worried, for the baby and for Eddie. He was also the baby of the family and very close to his mother and I think all the change he's facing has him missing her even more."
Rinsing their dishes, he loaded them into the dishwasher and refilled their coffee cups.
"You have something for dinner?" he asked her, looking in the refrigerator as he returned the milk jug.
"I do. I have some leftover spaghetti from a couple of days ago as well as some crackers and cheese for snacks."
"Let me bag up some of these carrots and celery for you, too," he told her, pulling some containers from the refrigerator.
"And Danny and Erin?"
"Danny could go either way. He's also a widower. His wife was killed in a helicopter crash a few years back. She was a nurse at St Victors. Maybe you knew her?"
"Linda, right?"
"Yes."
"I did. We worked together fairly often. We still miss her around the hospital."
"We do, too."
"I'm sure. She spoke of her family a lot."
"Anyway, Danny has been on his own for a while and finally started dating again. I think things might be getting serious with the young woman he's seeing now, so he may be willing to cut his father some slack."
"You think he might be okay with it?"
The older man sat down again, setting the containers he had prepared on the table between them.
"Maybe. But maybe not. He's known to be the one with the quick temper. He's passionate and quick to speak out and says exactly what he thinks. He often doesn't take other people's feelings into consideration before he speaks."
Lucy waved dismissively. "After some of the things I've been through, my skin's gotten pretty thick. It's not easy to hurt my feelings."
"That's good. Because I can pretty well guarantee that Erin will take the news badly. In a lot of ways, I suppose you could say she's been the acting matriarch of our little tribe since her mother passed."
"So, in her mind, I'd not only be usurping her mother's position, but hers as well," Lucy commented. "Though I have no intention of trying to replace anyone. I hope to make my own place."
"Exactly. As much as she butted heads with Francis and Mary both, she absolutely adored them."
"That's good."
"Also, she's kind of made herself the gatekeeper where the dating relationships of the Reagan men are concerned. She's very protective of us and is very suspicious. While she will acknowledge that we're good at police work and properly suspicious in general, she thinks that we're a bit naive and overly trusting when it comes to letting a beautiful woman into our lives. That we might be too easily manipulated by a pretty face."
He grimaced, looking down at his hands.
"And I may have given her reason to think that. Let myself be taken in by a woman who had a history of conning lonely old men."
"I'm sorry. I'm sure that was difficult," she said, reaching over to squeeze his hand.
"Embarrassing, to say the least."
"Well, I've never conned anyone. I can see where it could look like I manipulated this whole situation, but I really didn't."
"You didn't plan to get yourself taken hostage with my son at a grocery store in the wee small early hours of the morning so that you could seduce him and claim an unplanned pregnancy? With twins?" he asked her with a mischievous grin.
"Darn. You got me. I guess the gig is up," she replied with a matching grin.
"It is."
She got serious again. "I'm sure that Francis has checked up on me. Background check and all that. Verify everything I've told him about myself. As well as what I didn't."
"Does that bother you? That he would do that?"
"No," she replied, shaking her head. "I think it's a prudent thing to do, especially considering how fast things have gone. We haven't really been able to get to know each other over time like most couples do."
"His kids will probably do their own background checks as well," he told her. "Would that bother you?"
"Not at all. I'm glad that Francis has a family who cares about him enough to be concerned about who he's involved with."
"Even if it's hard on you?"
"Yes. Because I'm hoping that at some point, that concern and protectiveness will extend to our children. I want them to have people in their lives, other than just me, who will look out for them."
"Like you never did," he commented, his eyes sympathetic.
"But I did. I had my husband, Oscar. Now, I have Francis. And you. I had some tough times, but I came through it just fine," she assured him.
"Yes, you have," he agreed. "And the others will come around."
"I hope so. It may take a while, though. And I'm sure there will be an issue about the paternity test."
"What about the paternity test?" Henry asked, a trace of suspicion on his face.
"There hasn't been one." She looked him in the eyes. "Francis is the father. There's no other possibility, but I figured that he would want to be sure. Not just take my word for it."
"But you've discussed it?"
"We have. The options available for prenatal testing are either risky or not accurate for twins. It could be done easily once I deliver, but…"
"He wants to be married before then. So he can be there for you."
"And if we're married when they're born, he automatically is listed as the father. He says he's comfortable with that, that his gut is telling him that I'm being honest with him."
Henry nodded. "My son has always had excellent instincts when it comes to people," he told her. "If he's comfortable, then so am I. Not that my opinion matters."
"It does to me. Thank you," she told him. "But I rather doubt that the rest of the family will be as willing to accept my word on the matter."
"You're probably right about that," he conceded. "Lawyers and cops both like to have proof. In the end, though, Francis is the only one that matters. If he wants to marry you regardless, he's an adult and no one else gets a say in the matter. Except you, of course. This is something for the two of you to decide."
"I know that, but I really don't want to cause any conflict between him and the rest of his family," she replied.
"I understand and appreciate that, but with this bunch, there's usually conflict somewhere. Differences of opinion. Cops versus the district attorney's office. Street cops versus detectives versus intelligence versus top cop. Old fashioned versus new fangled methods. We all have our own ideas and opinions and those don't always agree. We're all stubborn and hard headed. We battle it out at that table sometimes, but when it comes down to it, we're family and we love and support each other in spite of the differences."
Lucy sat silently for a moment, toying with the containers he had packed up for her. Finally, she looked up at him.
"Thank you, Henry. I appreciate your honesty. Francis has just been telling me not to worry, that everything will work out."
"And it will."
"Eventually," she added.
"Eventually."
"You've given me a lot to think about and a little bit better idea of what we're going to be facing."
"I firmly believe you can handle it, Doll. And don't forget, you have me in your corner."
"I appreciate that, Henry." She looked at her watch and stood up. "And I appreciate the meal."
He walked her to the door, helping her put her coat on before wrapping her in a warm hug and wishing her a good day at work.
"Don't forget to call when you get home tonight," he reminded her as she headed down the walk to her car.
In her vehicle, she turned the ignition, letting the engine run for a few minutes. Leaning forward, she studied the house, returning the wave of the man standing in the doorway.
Not a house, she corrected herself.
A home.
A home with a place for her and her children.
If she was willing.
So, I seem to be a fan of these conversations with Henry. He's a good listener and a wise advisor. I hope you don't mind. Some reviewers have wondered if Lucy will meet the rest of the family in one fell swoop. That was the plan, however, this story is evolving as I write and I've had a thought about a separate Lucy/Reagan encounter. I may have to see where that goes. As always, I'd love to know what you though. Reviews are really appreciated, especially since the 'views' stats still aren't working and the reviews are the only way of knowing people are reading.
Chapter 11 is underway.