Chapter 21

© Copyright 2007 by Elizabeth Delayne



Trisha opened the door to her second floor apartment, coffee cup in one hand, while the other reached up to rub the sleep from her eyes.

“Morning,” Julie greeted as she stepped past her into the apartment. Nicole and Dusty, still asleep as well, followed. They were going shopping for wedding stuff via taking Dusty back to school, hence the fact that it was really to early for everyone.

Dusty, for his part, dropped down on the sofa with Julie’s ever present hand held video game and zoned out.

Though the walls of were a dismal white, the furniture and wall art were bright a vibrant colors, like something out of a Moroccan painting. The furniture was obviously used, the sofa and single chair slip-covered, the dining room chairs somewhat scarred—and not all the same.

It was a normal looking apartment, Nicole thought with some relief, and contrasted starkly with Jason’s furnished home. Trisha had done something with what she’d had, turned it into a place that suited her. Nicole wondered if the furniture had been passed down to her, or if she’d shopped bargain shops to select each piece.

Her room at Jason’s had never really felt like home. It was too ... extraordinary.

“I just need a minute,” Trisha mumbled and headed back to her bedroom with her coffee.

Nicole wondered over to look at the pictures Julie had over her mantle. There were pictures of her and Jason, Gabriel, her father. There was a woman who must have been Julie’s mother, standing with her at her high school graduation.

And there was a picture of her and Jason, and another of her, Jason and Dusty. The three of them, now part of Trisha’s family.

Nicole smiled and looked back as Trisha walked back out with a carryall bag. She could see a bridal magazine peeking out from the top.

She glanced back at the mantle of framed photographs as Trisha opened the door.

Part of the family.

* * *

On their third shop, now warm to conversation—and sans ten year old boy—Nicole walked through the wide open maze of china display cases as Trisha looked over china patterns with the sales girl. They’d come here after two dress shops to take a break from the pace, but it seemed to Nicole that Trisha didn’t need a break. She knew what she wanted.

She’d been planning this wedding for awhile now.

When her cell phone rang for a third time, Nicole answered it without even glancing at the caller ID. “Everything’s fine, we’re fine, and we’ll meet you when we get back.”

On the other end, Gabriel laughed. “I guess that’s all you have to say.”

“It’s what Julie told Jason five minutes ago when he called.”

“We’ll have to coordinate our calls a little better.” Gabriel paused a beat. “Is that all you want to say?”

“What else is there?” Nicole asked as she wondered further away from the saleslady and Trisha, turning her back to the wall so she could see the floor.

She didn’t like these enclosed spaces.

The store was brightly lit with gleaming china and crystal, silver and colorful bowls and place settigs. Fabrics hung on the far wall.

“You want to hear about china patterns, fabric texture or some other wedding term I know nothing about?”

“How about the ice cream? Isn’t that where you were headed—“

”When you called the last time?”

“Different place, different time, but you’re still the same girl I’m looking after. Or trying to look after.”

Nicole sighed dramatically, but slid found herself sliding easily into the banter. He had always seemed like such a demanding man. Now, if just seemed natural to talk to him. She could tell him about her day, her thought, how it seemed absolutely odd to be here, with Trisha. People she’d been around hadn’t been planning weddings. Not to this degree.

And it was easier than she would have thought to laugh with him.

She was reminded of the first time they’d met, where she’s showed up at Jason’s house to evaluate the situation. She’d thought him so backward, so odd.

Her usually good instincts of people had been off. He was so much more complicated then she’d originally thought, and not the small town cop she’d thought him to be.

He was part of her family now. Part of who Jason was ... and he had helped her find her way yesterday. It was all so new, she had so many questions, but it just felt ... right.

“She pick out your dress?” Gabriel asked and Nicole realized she’d slipped into silence.

“Not since the last time you asked.”

Gabriel chuckled. “I’ll take that as my exit cue. Be safe Nicole.”

Nicole sighed as she disconnected.

“Who was that?”

Nicole turned with surprise to find that Trisha and Julie had caught up with her.

So much for keeping safe. She should have known they were there. She should have felt it. She had lost her touch.

She couldn’t depend on her senses to keep her safe.

“What?” Nicole asked, as she flipped closed the phone.

“That’s the second little semi-private phone call you’ve taken today,” Julie pointed out.

“It’s nobody.”

“Nobody huh?” Trisha grabbed at the phone and laughed as she tugged it from Nicole. She laughed again as she flipped it open and checked the answered calls.

“It’s ...” it would only be a big deal if she made it a big deal, Nicole decided. “Gabriel. Who else is going to call me? He was just checking in.”

“Un-huh. He’s got you’re number one slot set to speed dial him,” Trisha held up the phone as she pushed the first digit and held her thumb over send.

“Jason programmed it in when he gave it to me. Jason’s cell’s number two. Jason’s home is number three. The police station is number four. And so on. He said if we got into trouble, all I had to do was hold down the number one button and it would send automatically.”

“Jason plugged in Gabriel’s number into your number one spot.” Trisha asked.

“I’m sure it was after Gabriel told him that it was his job to do the protecting,” Julie muttered.

“Gabriel told Jason it was his job to do the protecting? And Jason just followed?” Trisha teased, watching Nicole carefully.

Nicole shrugged. “Something like that.”

“Gabriel had to have won a bet or something,” Trisha rolled her eyes as she shook her head. “Probably thought they settled it like men.”

“Over a video game,” Julie prompted.

“That sounds like Jason. And Gabriel. I just think there’s more to this then the checking in thing. If that was all it was it would be –hey, we’re okay—that’s it. But you told him about the store, the trip, the ice cream...”

“We were just talking. I was telling him ...” Nicole shrugged. “I’ve never had ... a sister day. Who else am I going to tell?”

“And you told Gabriel.”

“I told Gabriel.”

“Jason and I did a lot of talking. For a long time.” Trisha waved her hand. “I’m not trying to pressure you. I’m just glad you’re settling in. Making friends.”

Nicole smiled as she looked at Trisha. “Me too.”

* * *

“Home, time of arrival 10 minutes, Trisha said as she drove passed sign that marked the county line.

“Mmm,” Julie groaned as she leaned back in her seat. “I don’t miss these days, driving for half a day through no mans land to get to a store.”

“No, you just like waving through traffic for the same amount of time,” Nicole said dryly from the back seat. Still, she understood Julie’s point of view. She’d never been on a shopping trip that had taken so much time in a car. Time waiting. Time moving.

Not just sitting.

Few of the people she knew in New York drove. Not many more actually had a driver’s license. It was too expensive and a little wasteful, considering everything could be reached by subway, bus ride, or a good brisk walk.

Of course, she’d never spent the day shopping—maybe a little time browsing, looking, wondering the streets. Sometimes she had stopped and dreamed. Created a new life for herself where she could be that person who shopped and not just doing it in the way her father had trained her.

She’d never really browsed to spend money—unless it was in discount stores or thrift shops. She’d always thought the money had gone to put food on the table. Maybe used for her father to buy his prime cigarettes.

Until Sarah. Sarah Brown.

All that money ... Now she wondered exactly what her father did with the money.

Julie laughed. “That’s invigorating. This is ...”

“Exhausting,” Trisha agreed. “Between the drive and the questions and all the choices ... and wondering how on earth I’m going to get Jason to settle down through the process ... I could sleep for a week.”

“You think we’ll have time for a nap?” Julie asked as she stretched her legs and shifted into a more comfortable position.

Nicole smiled. Julie would be one who was used to being in the driver’s seat, not sitting idly by.

“I hope so,” Trisha agreed as she glanced at her watch. “I’m hoping for a nice long soak in the tub. Jason said they’d meet us at 6:30.”

“That’s more than an hour. At least my things are over at your apartment. I have something to change into.”

“Why?” Trisha asked cheekily. “Just because Layton’s going to be there?”

“Why should it matter if Layton’s going to be there?”

“Oh, I don’t know ... a little birdie told me that you and Layton had talked quite a few times over the past couple of weeks.”

“We’ve talked,” Julie said, “you know ... we’ve just talked. Like Nicole and Gabriel are talking.”

Trisha laughed. “Probably so. What do you think, Nicole?”

Nicole glared up at them. “Gabriel and I are just talking.”

Still her tone gave way that she thought the talking between Julie and Layton was a bit more than what was between herself and Gabriel. “Besides, it’s not Chicago to New York long distance to talk to Gabriel. He just shows up. Sticks himself into your space.”

“So, are you not interested?” Trisha asked. “Good looking guy, really great job, great city.”

“I happen to live in a great city—well next to a great city. I can drive the hill up in my neighborhood and spot the skyline of Manhattan. You can hop a train and drive in, spend the afternoon. You can see the Statue of Liberty, visit countless museums, see Broadway plays. Hundreds of restaurants ... thousands of restaurants with any dish you could ever want or imagine, shops ...”

“And there isn’t that in Chicago?” Trisha asked. “From what Layton’s sister says, when they go up to visit him, they spend days shopping, seeing plays and eating at restaurants you wouldn’t be able to do around here.”

“So it’s Layton’s sister I’m going to have to kill.”

“You’re a social worker. You can’t kill anyone,” Trisha said with a laugh. “Still ... you’re not even giving Chicago a chance? It could be great.”

“It could be,” Julie agreed. “But no city’s like New York. Right Nicole?”

“You can’t ask a diehard New Yorker to compare anything with New York. It’s in the blood,” Nicole said.

But there was also something about the roll of the road, the passing of the trees, the open blue of the sky.

Even if it was different, there was something magical about riding in a car long distances, and listening to the radio, and the banter between friends.

It was just different. Different then the fly by discourses, and talking with the cabbies, the constant flow of people passing by, and the tall structures of buildings instead of trees.

It was different.

Even though she missed it and she missed her roommates and the people she’d known, she’d something else here. A place. Something she hadn’t had since her mother had been alive.

And maybe home hadn’t been the apartment in the old neighborhood, and neighbors like Mrs. Cambise, and old Joe three floors below, or walking the streets and seeing familiar people who knew you by name. She hadn’t had that, not since her father had taken her from the old neighborhood.

Still, maybe that place hadn’t been the neighborhood itself, but her mother.

But she hadn’t had that. Hadn’t ever gotten that feeling, that acceptance from her father.

Quiet, she sat in the back listening to Trisha and Julie banter until they pulled up in front of her apartment. They climbed out and gathered the bags from the day’s shopping trip from the back.

Trisha and Julie headed up the stairs as Nicole hung back. She felt herself still flushed back in time, washed with memories.

For a moment she was back in New York, looking up the inside stairs of the apartment she’d shared with her father and Dusty. Her stomach clinched, her hands tightened around the bags. She couldn’t breathe.

Her chest hurt.

Her hands flexed on the bags and she nearly dropped them and ran. She didn’t want that life anymore. She couldn’t be that person anymore.

She made herself stop, look around, take a deep breath.

She was here. In South Carolina. Away from New York.

She’d found Jason ... she’d found more. God, relationships ... hope.

And she was building a new family.

She had both her brothers. She had escaped from her father. Jason was getting married. She was gaining a sister.

She slowly assimilated all the facts and tried to get her stomach to stop churning. She drew in another deep breath and fought against the sense that she could smell those high end cigarette’s her father craved. Her father’s brand.

It smelled like him. But it wasn’t, she told herself. She wasn’t there.

And then it hit her. It did smell like him.

She could pick up the faint traces of the cigarettes that her father picked up at the specialty store.

She was imagining things, she told herself ... but even as she argued with herself, she dropped the bags and fumbled with her cell phone and was running up the stairs with her finger on the first button.

She stumbled into the living room, and there, with Trisha and Julie, was her father.



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