As always, thank you so much for your patience. And thanks for the kind reviews and encouragement to keep going with this. I'm having so much fun writing this and it's nice to know that people are having fun reading it. This is another fairly long chapter with a lot going on, so buckle up and dive in.
Pick Up on Aisle 10: Chapter 14
Frank woke the next morning with a smile on his face. He enjoyed the feeling of the warm body pressed against his and the light, fresh scent that still clung to her hair. At some point during the night, her improvised nightshirt had ridden up and his hand now rested on the bare skin of her stomach. He stroked it lightly, his fingers detecting the slight ridges of stretch marks left by her previous pregnancy.
Sending up a quick prayer for the safety and well being of the babies…he didn't think either of them could bear losing another child…he carefully slipped out of the bed to head in for his shower.
A thought suddenly struck him and he cursed softly before stepping into his slippers and grabbing his robe from the foot of the bed. Tying the belt, he carefully opened the bedroom door and slipped out.
As Lucy drifted towards wakefulness, her first thought was a feeling of…not wrongness…unfamiliarity perhaps?
The bed felt different.
Firmer, maybe?
And the smell, while nice, wasn't her usual detergent.
Those thoughts, though, were pushed aside by the very familiar sensation of her stomach roiling and the dizziness and nausea that accompanied. Eyes still closed, she reached for the crackers on her nightstand.
Her hand connected with the mattress, and she scooted over and reached again.
More mattress.
Her bed was not this big.
She opened one eye slightly and the night before came rushing back to her.
Her failure to save her patient.
The baby, all alone and fighting for his life.
The desperate need to be sure her children would be protected.
Ending up here, where Francis and Henry welcomed her with open arms. Fed her. Comforted her. Reassured her.
The talk with Francis, then falling asleep in his arms.
It had been a long time since something had felt so right.
And she was not about to pay him back by throwing up in his bed.
She reached behind her, feeling the empty space where he had slept. It was still somewhat warm, so he hadn't been gone very long. He was probably in the shower or possibly already gone for the day, though her internal clock told her it was still very early.
Slowly, carefully, she pushed the covers back and scooted to the edge of the bed. After waiting a moment for the nausea to recede, she pushed herself into an upright position. Another moment and she opened her eyes again, searching the room for a wastebasket or bin of some sort.
With nothing appropriate in sight, she decided she would have to make a dash for the bathroom and hope she could make it. Closing her eyes again, she took a deep breath, willing her stomach to hold on for a few more moments.
Before she could move, she heard the soft sound of the bedroom door opening. She glanced over quickly to see Francis entering the room.
"Sorry," he told her, moving to sit beside her on the bed. "I had hoped to be back before you woke up."
She heard the crinkling of the plastic sleeve of saltines, then felt a small, square object pushed into her hand.
After a quickly whispered thanks, she took a small nibble or the cracker. When that went down alright, she proceeded with larger bites, thoroughly chewing each before swallowing. Finally daring to open her eyes again, she looked at the man sitting next to her, offering him a small smile as she took another cracker from the pack.
"Better?" he asked, concern clear on his face.
"Getting there," she assured him. "Definitely settling down."
He reached over to set the rest of the package on the bedside table. "I brought you some ginger ale, too," he told her, twisting the lid from the bottle and handing it to her. "We have plenty on hand, because crackers, ginger ale, ginger tea, and cheese puffs were the only things Eddie could keep down the first trimester."
"Cheese puffs?"
"Yeah. The funny thing is, she usually hates them."
"Pregnancy does funny things to the body," Lucy told him, shaking her head. She took another sip of the drink. "Thank you for this."
He shrugged. "I was heading for the shower and realized you didn't have anything to eat when you woke up."
"I'm glad you did. I did not want to throw up in your bedroom."
Frank continued watching her.
"Which I won't. I should be fine in a few more minutes."
He didn't seem entirely convinced.
"I'm fine," she reiterated. "You need to go get your shower so you can get to work."
When she scooted back to lean against the headboard and pulled the covers over herself again, he reluctantly stood up and made his way into the bathroom.
With his morning routine taken care of, he headed to his walk in closet to get dressed. Smiling, he paused to study the woman in his bed. She was still sitting, eyes closed as she sipped at her drink. He was pleased to note a soft, pink flush to her cheeks and lips.
"Something I can do for you?" she asked.
He walked to the bed and sat on the edge.
"You already have," he told her. "You said 'yes.'
She sighed and opened her eyes, studying him.
"You're not changing your mind, are you?" he asked.
"No. I did at about 3 this morning. And again about 3:30. And a couple more times. It still just doesn't seem fair to you."
He opened his mouth to counter, but she held up a hand. "But that's your place to choose and this is mine and it's what's best for the kids."
"And for us," he added.
"And for us," she agreed.
He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. She kissed him back, then gave him a gentle shove.
"You need to get ready for work," she reminded him.
"I do." He snagged a cracker and headed into the closet. "I'm about to have two new babies to support. Did you sleep well?" he called as he buttoned his shirt.
"Very well," she called back. "Had to get up a couple of times for the bathroom, but managed to get right back to sleep."
"The bed is comfortable enough for you?"
"I'm not sure if it was the bed or having someone I felt comfortable with close, but I slept like a log. What about you?"
"Likewise. I'm used to the bed, so it must be you."
"So, you're saying I put you to sleep," she replied, laughing.
"No, just help me sleep better," he countered.
"Just call me 'Ambien.'"
When he came out, sliding the knot on his tie up, he found her on her knees, looking under the bed.
"Looking for something?" he asked.
"My socks," she told him. "I thought I was wearing them when I went to bed, but I'm not wearing them now, so either I had taken them off before, or they came off during the night. I didn't find them in the bed or in my stack of clothes and my toes are cold."
"I can loan you a pair of socks," he told her, offering a hand to help her up. "I'll even loan you clean ones."
Reaching for his proffered hand, she laughed as he pulled her to her feet.
"So kind of you."
"It is, isn't it?" he joked, crossing to his dresser. After a bit of digging, he pulled out a pair of slipper socks he had been given for Christmas a year or two back. She climbed onto the bed and he handed them to her before opening another drawer.
When she had the socks on, she looked up to find him holding out an oversized NYPD sweatshirt.
"Thanks," she told him, standing up. He shook it out and dropped it over her head. The shirt swallowed her, the hem falling almost to her knees and the sleeves hanging several inches past her hands.
Frank laughed, then took one hand and neatly rolled the sleeve up, then repeated the process for the other hand. Holding her gaze, he reached up, his hand caressing her cheek before sliding to the back of her neck. Very gently, he took hold of her hair and pulled it free from the neck of the shirt.
She closed her eyes, leaned her head back and groaned as he ran his fingers through the silky tresses.
"That feels really nice," she told him, her voice low and husky.
"From this side, too," he agreed.
Her eyes popped open and she blushed furiously. Attempting to step back, she discovered that she was still standing right next to the bed.
He smiled and leaned down, his lips capturing hers. She slipped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss.
Finally, he sighed, breaking the kiss but continuing to hold her close. He rested his forehead against hers as both paused to get their breathing under control.
"Work," he reminded her.
Or himself.
She nodded agreement as she pushed him back slightly, then reached up to straighten his tie.
"Looking sharp, Commissioner," she told him. "You have a whole closet full of these suits?"
"Pretty much," he agreed. "It's the uniform I wear these days."
"And you wear it well."
He grinned, nodding his thanks.
"By the way," he told her, leading her towards a set of folding doors, "this bedroom has two walk-in closets, so this one is all yours. I hope it's big enough."
When he opened the doors, her eyes went wide.
"This is bigger than my first apartment, Francis."
He shrugged. "It can double as a dressing area. Plenty of room for a dresser and a chair. You can start bringing clothes over. Decide what of your belongings you want to bring and we'll figure out how to rearrange. You saw where my stuff is in the bathroom. I'll double check, but I think the cabinets at the other end of the counter are empty, so that can be your space as well. Stuff can go wherever you need in the shower."
"I guess that there's not really any major hurry to get most of my clothes over here," she commented.
His eyebrows raised and he laughed. "While I wouldn't have a problem with you walking around naked, this place does get a bit drafty in the winter. Plus, there's Pops to think about."
She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "I meant that, hopefully, most of my clothes aren't going to be fitting right much longer. "
"That's right," he replied. He reached over, gently stroking her stomach. "You'll be needing a whole new wardrobe."
"Scrubs. A couple of dresses for church. Some sweats. I suppose I shouldn't need too much."
"Maybe some evening wear," he added. "I do have to attend the occasional formal event and I'd love to show off my beautiful wife."
"I'm not really fond of formal events," she told him.
"Me either," he admitted. "But having you there will make it less painful. Plus, we'll have a great excuse to leave early if we want to." He patted her stomach again.
"Happy to be of service," she laughed.
"What else do you want to bring over?"
She considered. "Mainly, my library, I suppose. Old textbooks, research books. Journals. My notebooks. I like to research things I see or hear about and publish the occasional journal article," she explained. "Though, I think most of that is available online, so I suppose I don't really need my hardcopies."
"It's nice to have resources you can actually hold in your hands, though," he told her. "It's not a problem. We can find office space for you," he told her, taking her hand and leading her out of the room. "You said you like to read, so I assume you have quite a few books other than just for studying."
"Quite a few," she admitted.
Downstairs, he led her down the hallway to his study, then opened a door across the hall from it.
"Would this work?" he asked.
She walked into the almost empty room, turning a circle to study the area. It was large, the walls a clean white. There were several large windows that would flood the room with natural light. Additionally, a set of French doors opened into the back yard. A desk was pushed against one wall.
"This is nice," she told him with a smile.
"I can get the cleaners to give it a thorough cleaning, get a coat of fresh paint on the walls and get some shelving set up. Move this out," he said, indicating the desk, "and get yours in here. Or get a new one."
"Looks like it's been unused for a while," she commented, drawing her finger through dust on the windowsill.
"It has been. Ma used it for her quilting for a while. Joe had his bedroom in here. When he was old enough to need space away from 'the kids.' Then Danny. Preferred it to climbing out the windows."
"And?" she asked, watching him closely.
"The sick room."
They both turned to see Henry standing in the doorway.
"When Betty got sick, this was where we set up the hospital bed and oxygen and stuff. Did the same thing a few years later when Mary got sick. After she passed, it's pretty much stayed like this. The great grands would use it for studying sometimes when they were here."
"They both died in this room?"
The two men looked at each other.
"Yeah. I can see how that might bother you," Frank acknowledged.
"No, not really. I work in emergency medicine. In spite of my meltdown last night, I deal with death on a pretty regular basis. I'm fine with it. I just want to be sure you both are. And the family. Do you think they'd be bothered by me 'taking over' a room that belonged to Betty and Mary?"
"I wouldn't be bothered," Frank assured her.
"Me, either," Henry added. "I'd like to see it being used again. The lighting is good and those windows make for a nice cross-breeze."
"And the rest of the family?"
The two men looked at each other.
"I'm afraid there will be some pushback from pretty much anything we do regarding you getting married and moving in here," Henry admitted.
"But we need to do what's right for us and for our kids," his son interjected, pulling her close. "Things may be a little bumpy in the beginning, but I think everyone will come around. Eventually."
"It's that bumpy beginning that worries me," she replied. "I really don't want to be the cause of any issues between you and your family."
"You won't be. Any issues that come up will be on whoever has them."
"But"
"No, no 'buts'. We'll get through it."
"Right now, we need to get through breakfast," Henry told them. "I make pancakes and they're getting cold."
The three headed back to the kitchen where they took their place at the table, said grace, and started eating.
"What's the plan now?" Henry asked.
"We'll need to figure out how things are going to work. Equitable division of labor and expenses," Lucy stated. "I fully intend to contribute."
"There's a household account we both put money into. It goes to pay the bills. Utilities. Taxes. Maintenance. Groceries. Things like that. We also keep separate accounts for personal spending."
She nodded. "That sounds like a good plan. Just give me a dollar amount and I can have it transferred in each paycheck. When the time comes, we can also set up another joint account to pay for the kids' expenses."
"We can sit down and figure all of that out later. I guess the first thing we need to do is get the license," Frank commented, looking over at Lucy. "Do you know what we need to do that?"
She picked up her phone and started typing.
"We'll need to make an appointment with a city clerk. They'll need a photo ID and a birth certificate. Marriage may take place after a full 24 hours but within 60 days," she read. After a moment, she frowned. "Unfortunately, I don't see any appointments available for a couple of weeks."
"I'd rather not wait that long," Frank commented. "Now that I've finally gotten her to agree to it."
"There's always Las Vegas," Henry reminded them.
Lucy sighed. "I suppose. Though I'm not changing my mind," she assured Frank.
He studied her.
"You don't really want a Vegas wedding, do you?"
She shrugged. "I wouldn't mind."
"Remember what we talked about last night?" he reminded her. "What do you want?"
"I'd like a proper wedding," she finally admitted. "Nothing fancy, but nice. I'd love a church wedding with a priest, but I know they usually require multiple classes and counseling sessions before they'll perform the ceremony in the church. That's why Oscar and I got married in the church garden. It was kind of a rushed thing, too, since he was home on leave. I'd like for Henry to be there," she added, glancing over at the other man.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," he assured her.
"And your family. If they want to be there."
Frank nodded.
"And you probably have some friends you'd like to invite. Your 'inner circle' that you seem fond of."
"As well as your friends," Henry mentioned.
"Maybe." Her gaze shifted back. "What about you, Francis? What do you want? That's important, too."
"I just want to be married to you."
"Do YOU remember what we talked about last night?"
"Small and nice sounds perfect. Definitely want Pops there. The family, if they're so inclined. Few people from work. I'm pretty sure I can work out something in regards to the church." He leaned close. "I know some people."
"Do you know people who could speed up getting the license, too?" she asked.
"I can make some calls," he told her.
They finished their breakfast, then Frank started gathering his things.
"What are your plans for the day?" he asked her. "You're free to go back to bed for a few more hours, if you'd like."
She shook her head. "I'll help Henry get cleaned up here, then head home and get showered and dressed. Start going through some things, decide what I want to bring over here. I don't think there will be much."
"Whatever you want."
"Then, I think I may have a date tonight. Someone asked me about going out on one of my free nights, but we didn't really settle anything."
He pulled his overcoat on and she reached up to straighten the lapels. He took advantage of the opportunity to slip his arms around her and draw her close, then leaned down to kiss her.
"We didn't, did we?"
When she shook her head, he laughed.
"I guess I'll make some calls about that, too. And I will give you a call and let you know what I've worked out. About tonight and the wedding."
"Sounds like a plan," she told him, stretching up to return his kiss.
He continued looking down at her, running his hand through her hair before letting out another laugh.
"What?"
"I was just thinking about how nice a way this is to start the day and that I could certainly get used to it. Then I realized that I CAN get used to it, because it's soon going to be the norm around here."
It was her turn to laugh. "At least for a few months. Then we'll have bottles and formula and diapers and a couple of screaming babies to deal with."
"Even better," he replied.
With a final kiss and a wave to his father, he headed out the back door to the vehicle and his detail waiting to whisk him off to work.
Back in the kitchen, Henry tried to shoo her off, insisting that he would take care of clean up on his own.
"I'm not helpless yet," she told him with a glare. "I would appreciate being allowed to help out while I still can. Which I would imagine you would understand."
"Ouch," he replied, placing his hand on his chest. "You're right. I don't respond well to being told what I shouldn't be doing anymore either, especially when it's something still well within my capabilities. Please accept my apologies."
She nodded. "Of course."
"You want to wash or dry?"
In the end, it was decided that she would wash and Henry would dry and put away, since he knew where everything belonged. As he hung the towel up to dry, he looked around the kitchen.
"How much space do you think you'll need in here for the stuff you'll bring from your place?"
Shrugging, she carefully wiped down the counters.
"I don't suppose I really need to bring anything. Your kitchen is already pretty well equipped and you do the majority of the cooking."
"But you like to bake. There are probably some tools you have that I don't. You said it's one of the ways you relieve stress," he reminded her. "And I want you to still be able to do that. Because you need that. And because I want to be your taste tester."
"I just don't want to be invading your space," she admitted.
"You won't be. This is going to be your home, too, and you have a right to space here, too."
Lucy nodded, but didn't meet his eyes. "I know."
"But do you believe it?"
"It's complicated," she finally told him.
He reached over and rested a hand on her shoulder.
"Whenever you're ready."
"Thank you."
After she had changed, Henry walked her to the door. When he mentioned finding a coat for her, she assured him that she had a spare in the car and that the sweatshirt she had…borrowed…from Frank would suffice.
Before she could leave, her phone rang. Pulling it from her purse, she smiled, showing the caller ID to the older man.
"Hello, Francis."
"I missed you already," he told her.
"Aww…miss you, too."
"Are you still at the house?" he asked.
"I am. Just about to head out," she replied.
"Pops there with you?"
"He is."
"Can you put me on speaker? I've made some calls and have some news."
Looking at Henry, she proceeded to do so.
"What's going on, Francis?" Henry asked.
"I got in touch with some people I know with some contacts with the Manhattan city clerk's office. They close at 5 today, but if we're there, they will go ahead and arrange the license for us."
"That's great!" Lucy replied.
"I need you to meet me there before 5. If you take a cab, we can head out from there for our dinner and movie."
"That sounds good."
"I do need you to bring a few things with you."
"My birth certificate and photo ID, right?"
"Right. And I need Pops to give you my birth certificate."
"I can do that."
"And a bottle of good scotch."
"Scotch? Are you bribing someone, Francis?"
"Not a bribe. Exactly. More of a 'thank you.'"
"Anything else?: Lucy asked.
"I also promised him a couple of dozen of the best homemade chocolate chip cookies he's ever tasted," he admitted. "I'm hoping that you still have some stashed in your freezer."
"I do indeed," she confirmed.
The day progressed, and at a quarter till 5, a cab dropped her off at the city clerk's office building. She quickly made her way to the correct office. Frank arrived shortly after, and in no time at all, they had the appropriate paperwork in hand.
As they settled in the back of his SUV, she tucked the papers away carefully and asked him what he had planned for the night.
"I hope I'm dressed okay. I wasn't sure what we would be doing."
He took in her deep green sweater dress, the v-neck showing a hint of cleavage, but still modest. The hem fell just below her knees where it met low heeled black leather boots. A black leather coat topped off her ensemble.
She had left her hair loose and he pushed down the urge to run his fingers through it again. A heavy gold chain rested just below her collar bone matching her hooped earrings. He detected a touch of makeup, but smiled to notice that her freckles were still visible.
"You look amazing," he told her. "Absolutely perfect for the bowling alley."
At her look of surprise, he laughed.
"I thought we could have dinner at Delmonicos. You do like Italian, don't you?"
"Very much so."
"Then a movie. You said you like old movies and there's this old theater on 38th that runs classics. They're showing 'It Happened One Night,' if you'd like to see that."
"I never say 'no' to Clark Gable," she told him. "There's something about that mustache."
"But is it a legendary mustache?" he asked with a grin.
"Well…he IS kind of legendary." She studied him, then reached over and smoothed his down. "But I do think I like the fuller, thicker look."
He leaned over and kissed her.
"We aim to please."
"And you do," she assured him.
"By the way," he told her, "I did get in touch with my connection with the church. He has a couple of ideas, but wants to meet with the both of us. Go over some of the preparation and counseling stuff…decide if he's comfortable marrying us. Said we could get started at 9 in the morning, if that's okay with you."
"My day is free," she told him. "I would definitely like to hear the perspective of an uninvolved third party."
"I'll let him know."
He fired off a text, then nodded when the response came through.
"We're confirmed," he told her. "He said he'll provide breakfast and lunch."
"That's good."
He continued watching her as the vehicle moved smoothly through the snarled afternoon traffic. She was quiet, her head down as she twisted at one of buttons on her coat.
Reaching over, he stilled her hands.
"What's on your mind?" he asked.
After a pause, she shook her head.
"Nothing. Everything's fine."
"Something's telling me otherwise," he retorted, nodding down at her hands.
She took a deep breath, then turned to face him.
"After our date tonight…when you take me home…" Looking down at her hands, she deliberately folded them, then looked up at him again. "Will you be expecting to come in? For sex?"
He adjusted his position as well, facing her.
"I told you, Lucy. I'm a normal man. I enjoy physical intimacy. You're a very beautiful woman and I'm extremely attracted to you. I want to hold you. Touch you."
He reached over, brushing the back of his knuckles across her cheek before lightly running his hand down her arm, skimming her breast, hip, and thigh. Watching her closely for any discomfort, he slid his hand under the hem of her dress, his thumb stroking the warm bare skin of her thigh.
She took in a deep, slightly shaky breath.
"I want to taste you," he continued.
He lowered his head towards her, stopping for a moment before allowing his lips to barely touch hers. From there, he ghosted light kisses across her jawline and down her neck, stopping when his lips rested on the pulse point at the base of her neck. He paused, feeling her heartbeat racing to match his own.
Raising his head to catch her gaze, he could hear her ragged breathing and see the desire in her eyes. "As special as that one night was, it was needy and rushed and I want to take my time with you. I want to explore every inch of your beautiful, amazing body, Lucy. I want to make you groan with pleasure and say my name like it's the only thing you can say. I want us to be so focused on each other that the rest of the world doesn't exist."
He almost groaned himself as she licked her lower lip before catching it between her teeth.
"And that will happen on our wedding night," he finished, reluctantly removing his hand from her thigh.
She started to speak.
Stopped, shaking her head.
"You were saying that you want to wait, weren't you?" he asked.
Finally clearing her throat, she replied.
"I was. I know it seems a bit hypocritical, all things considered."
"Not at all," he assured her.
She gave him a sly grin, glancing down at his lap, at the evidence of his attraction. "Though I am having second thoughts after that speech."
"We only have to wait 24 hours from when the license was issued," he reminded her. "So, Kevin could actually marry us tomorrow afternoon, if he decides he's willing to do it."
"So, instead of telling your family we're pregnant and getting married at Sunday dinner, we'd be telling them we're pregnant and married. Do you think that would go over better?" she asked."
"Probably not," he acceded.
"It would probably be better to give them at least a little bit of time to get used to the idea. And maybe some of them might want to be there."
"Maybe," he agreed, though his face looked less hopeful than his words.
"I was thinking about next weekend," she told him. "Saturday afternoon, if we can get everything arranged. And since we're going with simple, that seems doable to me. I'm off Friday and the weekend and can arrange a couple more days the next week if we want. What do you think?"
"I definitely don't want to wait any longer than that, no matter what my kids say or do. I'm sure I can find someone to marry us, if Kevin won't. And I'm also pretty sure I can arrange for a long weekend in a swanky hotel, if that would work as a honeymoon for you."
"It would," she nodded.
"And maybe we can plan a trip together later, after the babies are born. A proper honeymoon. Hawaii, maybe?"
"I'd really like that." She studied him. "I can just see you in a Hawiian shirt, speeding down the road in a red Ferrari, the wind in our hair."
"You'd have to drive, though," he told her. "I haven't really driven in years."
The SUV pulled to a stop and the driver turned to look at them as the other man stepped out to open Frank's door.
"We're here, Sir."
He stepped out, then turned to help her alight. She looked around in confusion, not seeing the restaurant.
"What are we doing here?"
"Another call I made to another friend," he told her, inclining his head towards the jewelry store. "Getting married calls for rings."
"I really don't wear jewelry much," she told him. "Between the gloves and unpleasant things my hands get into at work and the equipment we use, it's just not a good idea. Plus, there's the whole weight gain thing. But we can get you one, if you'd like."
"I'd like," he told her. "And, call me old fashioned, but I'd like for you to have rings as well. I know you can't wear them at work, but I'd like for you to have a set to wear when you can."
He watched her consider.
"I saw your wedding picture on the mantle at your house. You were wearing a wedding ring then."
She nodded. "Simple plain gold bands we got from a pawn shop," she told him with a smile. "Probably not even real gold as cheap as they were. He always said he would get me an engagement ring and a proper wedding band for our tenth wedding anniversary."
He reached over and took her hand.
"Which you never got to."
"No, we never did."
"This is one of those things that I want," he told her. "I want to buy you a wedding ring."
"Just a plain, simple wedding band? Silver or gold?"
"Silver. Or white gold."
"Your first one was gold, too, right?"
"It was," he admitted.
"Okay. Simple, silver band."
"No engagement ring?" he asked.
"Like I said, I'm not much for jewelry and so many engagement rings I see are too fancy and flashy for my taste. I'm just not big on diamonds."
"I'm sure he has some options that are delicate and tasteful. Would you at least consider it? Keep an open mind and at least look around? See if something tickles your fancy?"
Finally, she nodded, and he led her to the door, buzzing for entry. A well dressed older gentleman opened the door, and ushered the couple inside, out of the cold.
Frank introduced him to Lucy as Bradly Hunt, an old friend he had made back in his days on the beat.
"I must admit, I was surprised to get your call, Frank," the other man admitted as the two shook hands. "I figured old widowers like us were out of the game."
Frank smiled and shrugged. "I was surprised to be making the call, but sometimes…the time and the place and the person all line up just right and things just…click into place." He pulled her close, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on her forehead.
Leading them to a seating area, Bradley inquired if there was anything in particular that they had in mind. Admitting that neither of them did, he proceeded to discuss options, trying to get a feel for their taste.
"Something relatively small and simple," she told him. "White gold, maybe?"
After looking at her hands, he excused himself and crossed to the cases. He had a selection of several pieces pulled and placed on velvet display trays and brought to the table. Nothing seemed to really catch her attention, so Frank wandered over to look at the case himself.
He stopped, smiling, and turned to get the attention of the duo at the table.
"This one," he said, lightly tapping the case.
They joined him, Bradley stepping behind the case to pull out the set indicated. The center stone was a pear cut emerald, small diamonds surrounding it. The matching wedding band alternated the two stones around a delicate platinum band.
"Good eye, Frank," the other man told him, placing the rings on a cloth his assistant quickly spread in front of him.
"Beautiful," she whispered.
He picked it up and slipped it on her finger, holding her hand where they could all study the effect.
"What do you think?" he asked, though the look on her face told him all he needed to know.
"I'm not sure. Maybe a little bit too fancy?"
He pretended to consider for a moment, then lifted her hand for a kiss.
"It's perfect," he told her. "Absolutely perfect."
"It is," the jeweler agreed, leaning across the case to study it. "I could have been made for you."
"We'll take them," Frank told the other man. "How quickly can you get them sized?"
"A day or two," he replied, placing the rings on the tray and handing it off to his assistant. He reached for her hand and quickly determined her size, whispering the information to the young woman and sending her off to the back.
A bit more browsing yielded a similar man's ring which was also sent to the back.
"I'll let you know when they're ready," Bradley told Frank as he walked them to the door. After accepting his congratulations once again, they exited the store and returned to the vehicle.
The remainder of the evening was filled with good food, pleasant conversation, and an enjoyable cinematic experience. At the end of the night, he walked her to the door, taking her keys and pushing it open for her to disarm the alarm.
"I guess this is 'good night,'" he said, gently stroking her cheek.
"That is what we decided," she reminded him, leaning into his touch.
"It is," he agreed.
"I had a lovely time," she told him.
"Me, too."
He finally leaned down and kissed her, forcing himself to step back as things became more heated.
"I'll see you in the morning," he told her. "About 8."
She cleared her throat, then nodded. "See you then, Francis."
The next morning found Frank once again on her front porch. He knocked, bouncing lightly on his toes until she answered the door. She quickly invited him in, then closed the door against the cold.
"Almost ready to go," she told him, heading back to her bedroom. "There's coffee in the kitchen. Help yourself."
Instead, he followed her back to the bedroom, standing in the doorway to watch her as she quickly applied a coat of mascara, then picked up her hairbrush. Her gaze caught his in the mirror.
"Do I look okay?" she asked, tugging at the hem of her cream colored sweater. It had been paired with a pair of dark burgundy slacks and the black boots she had worn the night before.
"You look fine," he told her.
Smiling her thanks, she started to pull the brush through her hair.
"Better than fine. Actually, you look amazing." He stepped closer and took the brush from her hand, taking over the brushing process.
"I may be getting a bit obsessed with your hair," he whispered in her ear, replacing the brush with his fingers.
She sighed and leaned her head back.
"Do you have any idea what that's doing to me?" she whispered back.
His low laugh told her that he did, in fact, know exactly what he was doing.
With a laugh, she turned around, gently pushing him away as she made her way to a chair to pull her boots on.
"We need to go."
The ride was uneventful, the couple finding plenty of topics for discussion.
"This guy…Kevin? Is he your priest?"
"Not exactly. He's not the priest at St Michaels, but he is with the church. We've had some interactions over the years regarding matters with the police and the church and we've gotten to be friends. Confidantes of a sort."
"With THE church, as opposed to A church."
"Yeah."
She raised an eyebrow as the vehicle pulled through the gates of the archdiocese, but didn't ask any more questions. Her silence continued as he helped her from the car and led her to the door. Once inside, they were led to the kitchen.
Kevin Kearns rose from the table and greeted Frank, who proceeded to introduce the two.
Over breakfast, conversation was light, topics such as the weather and ongoing construction in every part or the city being discussed. Afterwards, he led them into his office.
"What I'd like to do," he explained, "Is to go over some of the things usually discussed in the premarital classes and counseling sessions. Get a feel for where you both stand on things. Areas and things you may need to further explore as far as your compatibility and making a marriage work."
They looked at each other, then nodded.
Kevin continued. "I know you've both had good marriages before and are both devout Catholics."
At Lucy's surprised look, he smiled. "Frank has told me quite a bit about you. When he told me you had agreed to marry him, I made some calls. Talked to the priest from St Lukes. He had a lot of good things to say about you. Your work with the homeless ministry at Holy Family and the Children's Charity Home as St Annes."
"Both are important causes to me," she told him.
"I'd like to start by getting to know you a bit," he told her.
Over the next several hours, the Archbishop led them in discussions of their beliefs and values, of their hopes and plans for the future, and their definitions of the commitments they were making to God, to each other, and to their family.
After a break for lunch, they returned to 'boot camp' as they were calling it, discovering more about each other, and discussing where compromises and flexibility would be needed from two people who had been on their own for a very long time.
Finally, Kearns sat back with a smile.
"Well, I think I've learned a lot about you both and I think you have about each other, as well."
They both nodded their agreement.
"I've got to admit, I've counseled people who have been dating for years that I felt less comfortable marrying than I do the two of you."
"Does that mean you'll approve a proper church wedding for us?" Lucy asked.
"Not only approve it, I'd be happy to officiate," he told her.
"Thank you," she told him. "Do you know someplace we can do it next weekend?"
"As it happens, I do. There's a small chapel here on the archdiocese grounds. It only seats a couple of dozen people, but it sounds like you're planning to keep everything small, so it should work."
"What do you think?" she asked, turning to Frank.
"It sounds fine to me," he replied before offering his thanks to the other man.
"Shall we go take a look?"
A young acolyte, Sarah, led them across the grounds to the small, stone chapel set in the middle of a small, beautifully kept garden. Inside, Lucy smiled with delight at the serenity of the simple sanctuary. Stained glass windows painted the wooden pews and altar in a riot of color.
"There are a couple of changing rooms. Piano over there," the young woman told them, leading a tour of the building. "I can arrange someone to play, if you don't have someone."
Frank smiled at his fiance.
"Lucy?"
She walked over and wrapped her arms around him, looking up into his face.
"It's perfect, don't you think?"
"I do," he agreed.
"Remember those words a week from now," Kevin told him with a laugh.
"I'll put your name down," the other woman told them. "What time did you have in mind? Morning? Evening?"
"Early afternoon?" Lucy asked, looking to Frank. "Around 2 or so?"
"Sounds good."
"I have a few more questions for you," Sarah said, leading her back to the front of the chapel.
"You're a blessed man, Frank Reagan," Kevin told him. "I really think that the two of you will be good for each other."
"I think so, too."
After plans were firmed up, Frank wrapped an arm around Lucy and led her outside. They slowly made their way through the garden, admiring the hardy flowers still blooming in the wintery conditions. Stopping at a stone bench, he took a seat, pulling her down next to him.
"Watch the sunset with me?" he asked.
"Love to," she replied, snuggling close.
After a few minutes, he cleared his throat.
"Actually, I need to talk to you about something."
She glanced up and he saw a flash of panic in her eyes.
"Nothing bad," he hurried to assure her. "Something good."
"Good. You scared me."
"I'm sorry. I intended to surprise you, not scare you."
He shifted his position to better face her.
"I got a call early this morning and made a stop on my way to your house. I know we've already talked about this and we're doing things all out of order in this relationship, but I want to do this properly."
"Do what properly?"
"Kind of properly," he amended, "Since I believe doing it 'properly' would involve me getting down on one knee. While that wouldn't be too much of a problem, the getting up would be and that would kind of ruin the moment."
As she continued watching him, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a dark, velvet box. He popped the lid open and turned it towards her.
"Lucy Makenna. Will you marry me?"
She cocked her head, a mischievous sparkle in her eye.
"Why, Francis. This is so unexpected."
He laughed, leaning forward to kiss her forehead.
"I suppose…if you need time to think about it…" he closed the box and moved to return it to his pocket.
She reached up, taking his face in her hands to pull him down for a proper kiss. When they finally broke for air, he looked at her.
"Is that a 'yes?'"
"That is a most definite 'yes,'" she assured him.
He took the ring out and slipped it onto her finger.
"Perfect," he commented.
"It is," she agreed, staring at the ring now glistening on her hand, then looking up at him. "I know I said I wasn't really interested in an engagement ring, but I really do love it. You have excellent taste, Francis Reagan."
"I certainly do," he agreed, staring into her eyes as he lifted her hand, pressing a light kiss into her palm.
"Aw, shucks," she whispered, keeping her own gaze locked on him.
"What?"
"We missed the sunset."
They made their way back to the main house and took their leave of the Archbishop, settling into the back of the SUV. They stopped and picked up food, then headed back to the house in Bay Ridge to have dinner with Henry.
After giving his full approval to the ring, they sat down to discuss wedding plans as well as financial and logistical planning for their future living arrangements over dinner. Some decisions were made, some deferred to the future.
"I can bring dessert for tomorrow's dinner," Lucy told them. "Unless that's someone else's job. I don't want to step on any toes."
"No, we usually pick up something from the bakery," Henry assured her. "You're more than welcome to bring something."
"Any preferences?"
The two men looked at each other.
"No. You said you have a stash in your freezer, so whatever is easiest for you. Pretty much everyone has a sweet tooth, so I'm sure anything you want to bring will be just fine," Frank told her.
"Except for myself."
Henry sighed "Maybe. Probably."
Frank sighed as well. "It's been a long time since I've found myself not looking forward to a Sunday dinner," he admitted. "And that was because of who wouldn't be there."
"Do you think we should not do it tomorrow?" she asked.
"We're getting married next Saturday," Frank reminded her. "This is the last time before that when everyone will be here all together for us to break the news."
"We can always push the wedding itself back," she suggested.
"No. Absolutely not," Frank disagreed. "There may be some people who are upset and disagree with my decisions, but my mind is made up. They'll just have to deal with things."
"Like ripping a bandage off," Henry commented.
The younger man pondered a moment.
"You don't actually have to be here, though," he told her. "I can just tell them about you…explain the situation. You could come later. Or we could set up another family dinner later in the week, when they've had time to process."
Lucy shook her head. "No. We're getting married. That means we deal with things together. As a team. I can't very well convince your family that I'm going to be your partner if I'm not even here to stand by you."
"I don't want you to have to deal with things that might be said, Lucy."
"I can handle it, Francis. I doubt anything will be said that I haven't heard before, either from my parents or someone in the foster care system. My skin's gotten pretty thick over the years and I'm pretty good at not letting things get to me.:
He sighed again, then reached to pull her into his arms. Resting his hand on her stomach, he leaned down.
"Your mommy is one tough cookie, kids."
"Indeed she is," her future father in law agreed.
The drive back to her house was quiet, both physically and mentally exhausted from their session with Kevin and both wrapped in their own thoughts. At the door, he took her keys and undid the locks, stepping inside with her as she took care of the alarm.
"Thank you for another lovely day," she told him, sliding her arms around his waist and lifting onto her tiptoes to kiss him.
"I enjoyed spending it with you," he replied.
"Stop worrying," she told him, reaching up to smooth the furrow lines on his brow. "Everything is going to be just fine."
"You don't know that," he countered. "You don't know how my family can be."
"But I'll find out. And I'll deal with it. We'll deal with it. I've got you and Henry in my corner. Right?"
"Absolutely."
"And you said Danny seemed a little less hostile about the whole situation."
"True."
"And I can handle being disliked, Francis. I'm not some fragile little flower that's going to wither up and die because people are upset and say mean things to me. I'm tougher than I look."
"I know," he replied. "But I don't want you to have to be tough all the time. It's got to be tiring. I want you to feel safe and comfortable and accepted."
"And I do. Right here with you. I feel safer and more comfortable and at ease than I have in I don't even know how long."
"Good."
"We'll get through this," she assured him.
"Yeah, we will."
On the way back to his house, he closed his eyes in prayer.
"Please, God. I don't want her hurt again."
Another chapter complete. It was a little long, as I said, but I kind of wanted to get the next really big event: The Family Dinner (ominous music). It's underway and I really hope it's not a disappointment after all the buildup. Also, I am not of the Catholic faith, so I did a lot of googling about the church. I apologize for any errors. No disrespect is intended. Please continue with the lovely reviews. I feed off of them.