Chapter Nine
Carly didn't mind freezing in Chuck's snowy driveway, because it was obvious that Sean and Rhiana were thrilled not only with their police-car tour, but with the attention Chuck was lavishing on them as he answered all their questions.
Questions that continued on the drive back to their house.
" . . . and when you arrest someone, do you ever fingerprint them yourself?" Sean continued.
"Yes, I've fingerprinted them."
"Maybe, sometime, you could teach me how? I mean, I can buy an inkpad with my own money," he added hastily, glancing at Carly. "And if you showed me, I could practice for when I'm older and a cop."
Carly wondered if Sean had been thinking about it for a while, or if Chuck had inspired the new interest.
"I can definitely show you how to fingerprint someone. You know, there's a summer camp that the State Police put on every year, if you're really interested. I'm not sure how old you have to be to go, but I could find out."
"Oh, man that would be cool. Wouldn't it, Mom?"
"Yes, Sean, that would be cool. Please don't get too excited until we have more facts."
"Sure, Mom. I won't get too excited." They pulled into her driveway and all piled out of the car.
Carly fished around in her purse for her keys. She knew that Sean might have agreed not to get too excited, but too excited had already come and gone. The last time Sean had been this enthused about a subject was last summer when he was considering a career in marine biology. Carly could still recite the differences between toothed whales and baleen whales. Before this new interest ended, she'd probably know more about police work than she'd ever imagined.
"Hey, Chuck, do you think maybe you could bring your handcuffs over next time you come?" Sean asked as she herded them into the house and flipped on the hall light.
Chuck laughed. "Maybe I could."
Having Chuck and Sean talk about the next time they got together made Carly feel nervous. "Okay, kids. Coats and boots off. Rumor has it that your weekend bags are stuffed in closets, so they still need to be unpacked. Any dirty clothes need to be taken to the laundry room. Then homework. If you get it done in time, game night. If not . . . " She purposely left the end of the sentence hanging. She'd discovered an unknown threat was so much better than a real and concrete one.
"Can you stay for the game, Chuck?" Sean asked as he took off his coat, threw it at a hook and missed.
"If you want me to," Chuck answered before Carly could jump in and make excuses why Chuck shouldn't, couldn't stay.
Sean was nodding. "Yeah. I got more questions. Lots more questions for you." Sean bolted up the stairs.
"You've done it, now, Chuck." Rhiana hung up her coat and traced her brother's steps.
As they walked into the living room, Carly tried to tamp down her irritation that Chuck had answered without even looking to her for a response. "Sorry about that, Chuck. I can make your excuses if you'd like to make a run for it." She hoped her annoyance couldn't be heard in her tone.
"Carly, I can't think of anything better than hanging out with the three of you for a game night. Well, maybe a couple of things that might be better." He wiggled his eyebrows at her in a comic leer. "Things we did at the hotel that we can't do now. But things I'd like to repeat at our first possible opportunity."
And just like that, her annoyance evaporated.
What was it about Chuck that could set her teeth on edge one minute, and have her laughing out loud the next? "Well, it may be a long wait for that first possible opportunity, considering Dean's out of the picture for a while."
"We'll figure out something. . . if you want to."
"Oh, I want to," she assured him. And she didn't understand just how much, until now. "I've discovered I enjoy having a boy-toy at my beck and call."
"Speaking of beck . . . "
"Hey, Mom, I pulled a button off my uniform shirt. Can you put another one on?" Rhiana called, interrupting all talk of beck and boy-toys. She peeked her head into the living room.
Back to the real world. The world that revolved around kids and work. Around buttons and comic-book runs. Around absentee fathers and laundry. Studying for her boards and planning a Valentine's dance.
"Sure," she said. "Bring it down."
"Thanks." Rhiana ran back up the stairs.
"You and I together is going to be a challenge." Carly warned Chuck. "My life is busy to the point of bursting. Trying to find time for the two of us to have a private minute is going to be more than challenging, actually."
"Lucky for you, I'm up to the task."
Carly caught the double entendre and groaned. "That was bad, Chuck. Really bad."
"That's not what you said at the hotel," he teased.
"Well, I don't know that you know what you're getting yourself into, but okay then." She kissed his cheek. "Let's hope you're as up to the challenge as you think you are."
"I would have thought that after last night you'd have realized I'm always up for whatever comes my way."
"Worse, Chuck. You just went from bad to worse. Almost as bad as whatever you were going to do with that stray 'beck' comment."
"Now, wait a minute. That was brilliant—"
Before he could explain how brilliant the comment was going to be, Sean tiptoed into the living room. "Hey, Mom, I'm out of fish food and they're going to starve if I don't get them some."
"They'll have to wait until tomorrow. I'll add fish food to my list. Next time a bit more notice would be good."
"And Mom," Rhiana said as she came into the room with her shirt, the button and a small stack of papers, "you need to sign most of these."
Carly took the pile of papers. "Seriously, Rhi, we've talked about this last-minute stuff."
"Tomorrow morning would be the last minute. This is just not early. It's timely, even."
Chuck nodded. "Can't argue with her logic."
"You're not helping, Lieutenant," Carly scolded.
"Oh, you better watch out, Chuck. My mom loves using proper names when she's annoyed. Whenever I hear Rhiana Stephanie Lewis I know I'm in for it. And if she screams—"
"I never scream."
"—Sean Baxter Lewis, he runs and hides."
"Hey, I don't hide," Sean protested.
"Nothing wrong with hiding," Chuck assured him. "I'd hide, too. Your mom might be tiny, but she's tough."
"And scary." Sean's expression said he was teasing her.
Carly played along. "Oh, yeah, I'm scary. And I've noticed two kids who are stalling and not doing their homework as they promised."
Both kids turned around and fled. She could hear their laughter echoing up the stairs.
"I like them, Carly. You've done a good job with them."
People saying nice things about her rarely got to her, but hearing someone praise her kids always did. "Thanks. I think they're great, although I know that I'm biased."
She waited for Chuck to pick up their banter again, but instead, he simply leaned down and kissed her cheek.
It was as platonic as kisses come, and yet for all its non-sexiness, it moved Carly. Maybe because of its mere sweetness.
"You might be biased, but I'm an expert and having just met them, I can't be biased at all. Your kids are great."
TWO HOURS LATER, Chuck roared, "I'm the king of this land. I hold a monopoly on everything. I either own the property or you all have it mortgaged. So, I think it's time everyone admitted their defeat."
"Seriously . . . what is it your mom called you? Charles August Jefferson? Lieutenant Charles August Jefferson—"
"Ooh, here it comes." Sean, who'd been his ally throughout the game, ducked for cover. "You're in for it now, Chuck."
"Uh-huh," Rhiana assured him. "Once she's invoked your middle name, it's all over."
"Chuck's in trouble. Chuck's in trouble," they taunted.
"So, apologize for being a poor sport," Carly insisted. She'd caught on that Chuck's act was for the kids' benefit, and it was working. They were both grinning from ear to ear.
"Come on, Chuck, apologize. We're young and impressionable," Sean teased.
"Dearest hooligans, I apologize for pointing out that you're both losers." He made an L against his forehead with his thumb and finger. "But not as big a loser as your mom. She's got nothing left even to mortgage."
"That's it." Carly picked up the pillow she'd been sitting on, and thwapped him soundly. "Come on, kids. Get him."
Melee was almost too sedate a description, he realized later. But when the pillow fight had exhausted itself, and Carly had sent the kids up to get ready for bed, she turned to him and said, "Thank you."
"For what? For being a bad sport and setting a horrendous example for your kids?"
"For goofing around with them. For going out of your way to see to it they had a great night . . . something that would lessen the hurt of their father's disinterest." She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Just thank you. This wasn't in our boy-toy agreement."
"Hey, neither was another dinner at my folks'. Let's not worry about what we should do and what we shouldn't do. There are no rules, Carly. Let's simply enjoy ourselves." He pulled her close. "And, in case you didn't notice, I seriously enjoyed myself tonight." He paused and added, "Last night, too. Let's say this entire weekend was a resounding success."
"I think so, too."
"And I've been thinking about how we're going to find some grown-up time. I don't have to be at the station before the program tomorrow. And it doesn't start until nine. If you took the kids to school tomorrow, then came over to my place, we could ride to the school together . . . "
"I don't see how that's going to—" She paused. "Oh, before we go to the program?"
He nodded. "I'll bet we can find thirty or forty minutes. I know that's not a lot, but it may be enough."
"I planned on driving to the school early and studying for my boards."
He could sense her indecision. "Studying or me? You choose."
Carly hesitated a moment too long.
She was going to say no. That she'd better study.
And as much as he was disappointed, he would understand. "Hey, don't worry. We'll find another time. Studying comes first. That's what my mother always told me. I'll just see you at the school and we'll figure something else out."
"I'll find some other time to study. I still have a few weeks before my boards." She kissed him. "I'll be at your place right after I drop the kids off tomorrow. I can't believe there are only two more presentations to give."
Chuck couldn't believe it either. It was great to have a built-in reason to see Carly. He knew she was busy, which meant that once her community service was over, spending time with her might get more difficult.
Of course, she'd already agreed to dinner at his folks on Sunday, and he was working security for the Valentine's Day dance.
Still. . .
"Earth calling Chuck."
"Sorry, I was drifting."
"Thinking about tomorrow morning? Because, I am. I'm thinking . . . " She leaned over and whispered what she was thinking in his ear. And suddenly all Chuck could think about was having Carly to himself tomorrow morning.
WEDNESDAY WAS THE LAST presentation of the Safety Awareness Program. Carly sat in the gym of yet another school and let that idea sink in.
This was it—the last one.
She'd met Chuck before the Monday one, and now today's. But after this?
Carly had thought she'd feel relieved that one more thing was crossed off her to-do list. She'd paid her debt to society. Her record would be expunged.
But instead of relief, she felt . . . let down.
She'd enjoyed the program. Enjoyed working with the kids—talking to them and listening to them. She'd miss that.
Though more than the work or the kids, she'd miss having an excuse to spend time with Chuck.
Oh, she still had dinner at his parents this weekend, and he was providing security for the dance. But after that?
" . . . and then I rushed into the burning building," Bob, the fireman said.
Bob had been talking nonstop in between the classes that filed through the gym.
Carly had hoped to use the time to study for her nursing boards—to make up for the time she'd spent with Chuck in the mornings. She kept trying to steal glances at her flashcards, but Bob just kept talking and she forced herself to smile and nod at whatever he said.
She glanced at Chuck, across the gym and he looked up at her and smiled. It was a smile that spoke of things they'd done this morning. Things she'd very much like to do again.
" . . . the lady screamed, and I . . . "
Carly liked Bob. Although he was disturbing not only her studies, but also her very lurid fantasies about Chuck.
Both Monday morning, and this morning had been hasty, fun—and each time had left her wanting more. More time, more of Chuck.
" . . . and then I told him, it might work better—" He stopped abruptly. "Oh, here comes the next batch of kids. Our last batch."
Carly glanced at the clock. It was quarter after one. "Wow, the day went fast."
"I don't think it was my scintillating conversation that made it speed by."
She looked at him as he used the word scintillating.
He laughed. "I've got a good vocabulary, and scintillating is a great, highly underused word."
"I didn't mean to underestimate either you or your vocabulary. Sorry."
He laughed. "Don't be. Your mind was on other things—other people. Chuck's a lucky guy. Does he know?"
"Know what?" The kids had flocked to the first two tables, but a few were drifting toward Bob.
"That you're in love with him."
"I am not. Gee, first scintillating and now going all hearts and flowers. You're sure you're a fireman? A tough, rushes-into-burning-buildings-to-pull-someone-out sort of fireman?"
"You can try to deflect the question by getting mad, Carly, but I just call them like I see them. . . with my very impressive vocabulary."
She gave a very unladylike snort as three kids swarmed Bob's table and a few more came to hers. Yet Bob's comment stayed with her as she handed out her brochures covering everything from fire safety to head lice.
Love Chuck?
No.
Bob was confusing lust for something more.
When that last group of kids had left and Carly started gathering her things. Chuck came over. "So that's it. You're done."
"Yes."
"I'll sign off on the paperwork when I get back to the office and let Anderson know it's coming. He's going to push it through, so hopefully by the time you get your test results, you'll have a pristine record again."
"Thanks, Chuck." She nodded at the box of pamphlets. "So, what do you want me to do with these?"
"I'll take care of them." He grinned. "You have a while before your kids get out of school. I thought maybe we could get a coffee . . . or something."
She caught Bob looking in their direction and grinning.
Love Chuck?
She shook her head. "I'd love to, but really, I have to study. I work the next two days and—"
He interrupted. "Carly, that's fine. I get it. Maybe dinner?"
"It's sort of crazy the next few days. How about I see you Sunday at your mother's?"
He looked disappointed, and part of Carly wanted to say she'd changed her mind, but she glanced over at Bob again and didn't say anything.
"Sure," Chuck said finally. "I'll pick you guys up on Sunday."
"That's okay. I know where your parents' house is now. We'll meet you there."
Chuck's smile looked a little forced, but it was there as he nodded. "Great. See you Sunday, then."
Carly walked out of the gym, her debt to society paid and her independence from Chuck as clear as she could make it.
She should feel elated.
But she didn't.
She felt something else entirely.
Something she couldn't quite put her finger on.
"YOUR KIDS ARE ADORABLE and so well-behaved," Mrs. Jefferson said on Sunday.
The men and kids were all playing a very intense game of Wii bowling in the other room. "Having children in the house gives my guys an excuse to play."
Mrs. Jefferson was busy mixing a vegetable dip while Carly sliced the carrots and celery.
"Well, Sean and Rhi are enjoying the attention."
Mrs. Jefferson scraped the dip into the serving bowl. "I hope you don't think I'm being nosey, but I was wondering about their father? Is he still in the picture?"
Ah, there was a question. Dean hadn't called the kids all week, so how much in the picture did he consider himself?
"Yes, for the most part he is. At least, when it's convenient for him." She caught herself. "Sorry. I keep swearing that I'm over the bitterness. That I'm going to be that classy sort of ex-wife who puts aside her own pain, forgets the past and forges a new relationship with her ex for her kids' sake. I do try, but sometimes I lapse. It gets harder when he neglects the kids. Sometimes I want to shake him and ask him if he understands what he's missing."
Carly lopped the greens off a carrot with far more force than was really necessary.
Mrs. Jefferson stopped mixing the dip, then reached across the counter to pat Carly's hand. "Of course it's harder when you feel he's slighting the children. You're a mother and you just want what's best for them."
"Which is why I need to figure out how to get along with him. That's what's best."
"How long has it been since your divorce?"
Carly used to be able to answer that question down to the day. But as Mrs. Jefferson asked the question, Carly realized she didn't know. She was no longer counting. She didn't wake up each morning and think it's been so many months, so many days since her marriage had died. "A little over a year."
"Well, maybe it's fate. Kismet even." Mrs. Jefferson sounded way too flippant about the most traumatic even in Carly's life.
Carly's surprise at her tone must have showed because Chuck's mom said, "Oh, that didn't come out quite right. I didn't mean your divorce was a good thing, or fated, but rather if you hadn't married your ex, you wouldn't have divorced him and asked for the couch. And you'd have no earthly reason to burn it and start the fire . . . so you'd have never met Chuck." She smiled as if she'd worked out some sort of quantum theory. "I've never been one to believe in fate. We make our own fates. But your story has me near to believing."
"Mrs. Jefferson, I don't want any misunderstandings. Chuck and I—"
How to describe their relationship to Chuck's mother without crushing her newly discovered belief in fate. "Maybe I was fated to meet Chuck. He's become a good friend. He's done more to help me than you'll ever know. You raised a lovely man."
"Why, thank you, dear."
"But . . . " She paused until she was sure that but got Mrs. Jefferson's attention. "But Chuck and I aren't destined for some fairytale romance. We're friends. Good friends. But . . . " she said again, then shrugged. "I don't want you to think it's more than it is."
"I've seen the two of you together. There's something there. Some spark."
Carly wasn't about to tell Chuck's mother that indeed there was a spark. Three days apart had definitely led to a combustible sexual tension from them and that spark threatened to ignite it at any second. "Ma'am, I don't want you to think there's more to us than there is. Any sparks you see are firmly founded in friendship. Neither of us is looking for a happily-ever-after."
"Fine dear, you don't have to look. But if it's okay, I'll be watching out for you."
"Mrs. Jefferson . . . " Chuck's mother smiled in such a way that Carly admitted it was hopeless to argue with her. She'd believe what she wanted to believe, until the relationship ended. "I just didn't want to lead you on."
"Don't you worry about me, dear. Now, tell me more about the children. Chuck said they're both in seventh grade?"
"Sean and Rhiana were born ten months apart, and Sean wasn't quite ready for school, so I held him back a year—"
They finished what they were doing in the kitchen and took the appetizers into the living room.
"Mom, we've gotta get a Wii," Sean said as Chuck's father swung his arm back then forward. The little avatar on the screen mimicked the move and a bowling ball spun down a cyber-lane.
"Strike," Mr. Jefferson yelled excitedly.
"See, Mom? We need one."
Carly wasn't a big fan of video games. She'd avoided buying them for the kids, although she knew they used them at friends' houses. But watching Anderson take a turn proved that this one did look fun. "Maybe next Christmas."
"Next Christmas will be too late," Sean muttered. "Everyone else will have something new by then."
"We'll talk about it later."
Anderson's avatar got a spare. He beckoned her over to the couch. "I just wanted you to know, Chuck got me the paperwork right after you finished on Wednesday, and I've put it into the system. You should be a record-free citizen in short order."
"Thanks, Andy—"
He frowned. "I'd rather thought we'd gotten past the Andy stuff."
"I'll confess, I called you Andy at first to needle you. Now, I do it because that's who you are when you're here. In court you're Your Honor, or Judge Bradley. The rest of the world knows you as Anderson. But here, in the Jefferson house, among family, you're simply Andy. It fits who you are here."
He didn't say anything for a second, then he nodded. "Fine. When you put it like that, how can I complain?"
"Oh, you could complain, but it wouldn't do you any good," she teased.
"Are you two at it again?" Mrs. Jefferson asked. "I still have the time-out corners I used to use with Chuck and Julia."
As she mentioned her daughter's name, it was as if every adult in the room froze, waiting for Anderson's reaction. The kids, unaware of the tension, continued crowing about the game.
"Well, Carly started it," Anderson said, with the right degree of childish whine.
Carly might not have known the Jefferson family long, but she knew them well enough that the fact that Anderson was joking—that he'd heard his wife's name without freezing up—was something of a milestone.
Maybe that's what set the tone for the meal.
Or maybe it was Mrs. Jefferson's misguided newly discovered belief in kismet.
Or maybe it was simply having kids in the house.
Whatever it was, the Sunday dinner became a festive one.
Carly and Anderson, and occasionally. Anderson and Chuck kept up a jovial banter, Mrs. Jefferson lectured all three of the adults on behaving and warned of time-outs, much to Rhiana and Sean's delight.
When the meal finished, they had another round of Wii bowling, before Carly proclaimed it time to go home.
The kids both moaned.
"Now, now," Mrs. Jefferson said. "It's not as if you won't come over again. We'll just have to convince Chuck to bring you all back soon."
Chuck's mom leaned over and hugged Carly. "I'm so glad you brought Sean and Rhiana. I hope we see you at more Sunday meals."
Carly didn't want to say yes, because she wasn't sure how much longer she'd be seeing Chuck. And coming to Sunday meals at his mother's felt too intimate. Too much for what they were. So she didn't acknowledge the blanket invitation. She simply said, "Thanks for inviting us. We had a lovely time."
"Don't be a stranger," Chuck's father said. He reached out and slapped Sean's shoulders. "You and your sister were good fun. You remind me a lot of Chuck when he was young."
"Oh, poor kid," Anderson teased. "Seriously, don't scare the boy by telling him he reminds you of Chuck. That's just wrong."
"Nice, Andy. Better me, than you. I mean, Sean's already said he'd like to be a cop. How many kids his age say, oh, man, being a judge must be so cool?"
"I don't think anyone uses the word cool any more, Chuck. It's not hip," Anderson corrected.
"Come on, guys," Carly prompted, which put an end to Anderson and Chuck's banter.
She loaded the kids in her car. Then turned to Chuck. "Well, thanks again."
"Is something wrong?" Chuck asked. Carly had barely talked to him all night. She'd chatted with his mom and Anderson. Even his dad. But not him.
"Of course nothing's wrong."
"Then do you mind if I come over for a bit? I've got some stuff for the kids."
She nodded slowly. "Sure."
Chuck trailed Carly's van to her house, and grabbed a bag from the passenger seat before he followed them inside.
"I have a present for you," he said after they'd shed their coats and boots.
He handed the bag to Sean, then turned to Rhiana. "I know you weren't the one who asked, but I thought you might enjoy it as well."
Sean had already opened the bag. "Oh, cool." He thrust the bag at Rhiana.
She looked up at Chuck and smiled. "Will you show us how?"
"What is it?" Carly asked.
"I brought the stuff we need to fingerprint, and I have my duty handcuffs," he explained.
Sean crowed with delight.
"Just to show you," Chuck added.
"Yeah, I guess Mom would be mad at you if you let me keep them and I locked Rhiana up every time she tried to hog the bathroom. And Rhiana hogs it a lot, so she'd be handcuffed up a lot."
"Hey, I don't want you to think I forgot you." From his jacket pocket he took out a small plastic bag.
Carly took it gingerly and peeked inside. "Highlighters?"
"I thought it might make the studying go faster. It's a four-pack."
She gave him an odd look, then simply said, "Thanks."
For the next hour Chuck taught both kids the art of fingerprinting while Carly flitted about the house, doing this and that. He knew how busy she was and wouldn't have minded her catching up on house stuff if he thought that's all there was to it. But it didn't take a detective to notice Carly seemed to be avoiding him. He wasn't sure why.
When they finished fingerprinting, Sean asked for math help and Chuck volunteered. He was pleased to discover he remembered enough algebra to assist the kids with some simple equations they had for homework.
Carly finally sat down at the table with them, filling out forms, making out the check for the kids' February lunches.
Chuck rather liked the feeling of the four of them all sitting around the dining-room table, working together.
There was a stack of nursing books on the sideboard. He caught Carly eyeing them as she got up to toss another load of laundry in.
"Hey, Chuck, are you leaving?" Sean asked.
"It's almost nine. So, I'd better be going soon. You two have school tomorrow, and I know your mom wants to study."
"We've got a while. We thought maybe you'd like another game of Monopoly? We can play the short version."
"There's a short version to Monopoly?"
"Well, we've sort of made up our rules in order to make the game go faster. The three of us can play while Mom studies."
"Does that work for you?" he asked Carly, who'd come back into the room with a basket full of clean clothes.
She looked uncertain. "Sure."
An hour later, game played, laundry put away, and kids in bed, he knew it was really time for him to go. "When can I see you again?"
"The next few weeks are going to be busy. My boards are just a couple of weeks away. I've got to study."
"Maybe I could help you study."
"I don't mean to look a gift-helper in the mouth, but Chuck, just what do you know about PICC lines?"
"Carly, let me help." He wasn't sure why she was trying to push him away. Normally, Chuck would take that as a sign that it was time for a relationship to end. All he knew was that wasn't what he'd prefer to happen.
"I'll bring dinner over tomorrow and if I'm in the way at any time, you can kick me out."
She shook her head and let out a huge sigh. "I was going to say no. I meant to say no. And yet, here I am saying yes. I'm not sure why."
Something had spooked her. Had his mother said something to her in the kitchen? Still, whatever it was, she'd said yes, and he wasn't about to pass up the chance to be with her, and the kids.
"Great. See you then."
And before she could say anything else, he kissed her good-night. It wasn't nearly enough and a big part of him wanted to push for more, but he could tell Carly needed her space.
"Tomorrow," he said then sprinted out the door.
Maybe tomorrow he'd get to the bottom of what was wrong.