Chapter Two
On Monday, Carly headed downtown to the police department. She parked on Perry Square near the back of City Hall. The streets were actually clear and dry, though there were still huge piles of wet, sticky snow everywhere. It clung to the trees, weighing down their branches. The Christmas lights that the city strung in the park's trees each holiday season stuck out from under the snow at odd angles. It might have made her pause to enjoy the pretty two-block park in the center of town if she hadn't been on her way to meet with a cop.
Carly pulled her coat tighter as she walked from the Square to the rear entrance of the building. She had flashbacks to the night the young officer had brought her in. He'd been very sympathetic, but he'd also been young enough that it felt as if she was being taken in by Opie rather than Sheriff Taylor. The kid was so young he probably didn't even know who Opie and Sheriff Taylor were.
The thought was a depressing one.
She glanced at the paper the judge had given her. She was to meet with the Communication and Community Outreach Officer.
She walked through the automatic doors, then through a second set. Up the hall and to the left were doors with an Erie Bureau of Police sign hanging above it.
She unwound her scarf, but left her coat buttoned.
A cop who reached out to the community as part of his job description—he had to be nice, she assured herself. Fair and just, of course, but also nice.
Taking a deep breath, she went to the small reception room. There were a couple of chairs, a few pictures of police officers on the wall and a huge window straight across from her, with a door to the right.
Carly walked up to the glass. There was a pass-through hole at the bottom, and a metal speaker area that was probably level with most people's mouths. But Carly had to stand on tiptoe to get her mouth even close to it. "Excuse me," she said.
A woman wearing civilian clothes rather than a police uniform was working at a desk near the glass. She looked up. "Yes?"
"I have an appointment with the Communication and Community Outreach Officer. I'm Carly Lewis. It's about the safety program."
"Let me tell Chuck you're here."
A guy named Chuck was probably nice. A small bit of relief seemed to calm her nervous stomach, and Carly unbuttoned her coat.
The door next to the window opened. "Carly Lewis?" a tall, uniformed officer asked. He had very short brown hair. Shorter than hers. Not quite a buzz cut, but military-looking. Familiar-looking.
Very familiar.
It felt as if she was taking an absurdly long time to make the connection, but she was pretty sure only a moment had gone by before she had it. "You? You're the Communication and Community Outreach Officer? "
She recognized him from the day of her accidental arsonage, as well as from the judge's courtroom.
"Ah, Mrs. Lewis, you remember."
She snorted. "Like I could forget. You were that first officer on the scene. The one who doesn't get out of the office much any more. The one whose second language is sarcasm."
"My mother always says, if you have a gift, use it. And I was just filling in until the patrol guys finished up at an accident scene." He held the door open wide. "So, do you want to come into my office and I'll give you our schedule for the Safety Awareness Program?"
"Do I have a choice?" She went through the door into another hall, then waited while he walked ahead and led the way to his office.
"Certainly you have a choice. So many of our perps don't seem to understand that. They can choose to do the right thing, or not. In this case, you can choose to participate in the program, or I can call Andy and tell him you'd rather not fulfill your community service."
"Andy?" She couldn't remember having met an Andy here.
He paused, and turned around to face her. "Anderson Bradley. Judge Bradley."
She had to crane her neck in order to look the lieutenant in the eye. "You call the judge Andy?"
He started walking down the hall again, and without turning around, said over his shoulder, "My brother-in-law."
Carly shook her head. She was going to spend the next month working with the judge's brother-in-law? Great. Just great.
The lieutenant opened the door to a small cubby of an office where there were piles of paper littering a desk. The walls were bare. There was a bookcase with binders and books jammed in it helter-skelter. He didn't seem to mind that his office was a mess.
Carly could think of a number of ways to make the small space more attractive and certainly more user-friendly. But she was out of the office redecorating business permanently, so she didn't say anything.
"Have a seat." He nodded at one of the two functional but uncomfortable looking folding chairs in the room. "So, Andy said you're coming to the Safety Awareness Program. I've got a schedule—which schools, which days."
He dug through the pile of papers on his right and miraculously produced a folder, which he promptly handed over to her. "I know Andy said you should talk about fire safety. He's warped. That's the sort of thing that would appeal to him. We're dealing with middle-school kids, not kindergarten ones. So, you're welcome to mention fire safety, if you like. But we'd hoped that since you're a nurse, you might consider manning our health booth. Last year, our health booth consisted of a few pamphlets the kids could help themselves to. I thought—we thought—that maybe a live person there would be beneficial."
"I've got a nursing degree, but I haven't passed my boards yet." She didn't want the lieutenant coming after her for not being forthright.
"You've got more knowledge than any of us do."
She glanced at the folder. There was a list with six dates and the corresponding schools. "Nine to two?"
"Some might end early, but yeah, mainly."
"Fine. I'll be there. Is there anything else, Lieutenant?"
"No, I don't think so. But here—" he reached into the pocket of his uniform shirt and took out a card and handed it to her "—if you're running late, or have any problems, call me."
"There won't be anything I can't handle. I'll be there on time, sir."
"Have I done something to offend you?"
Carly couldn't get past the memory of this man standing next to her at her fire. Well, fires. He'd been so smug, so superior while watching the mess she'd created. And she'd been crying.
That was the worst of it—he'd seen her cry.
"No, of course there's nothing wrong. I mean, I was humiliated when I caught my husband cheating, and the whole fire and charges, that's been even more embarrassing. Then, rather than the judge accepting my plea bargain, I get your brother-in-law whose warped sense of justice requires I add one more thing—no I take that back, six more things—onto my already tight-to-the-point-of-exploding schedule. And here you are again, giving me that insincere I'd-never-set-the-neighborhood-on-fire smile. So, no, officer, nothing's wrong. I'll be at each school promptly at nine, and I'll stay until two. While I'm there, I'll talk to the kids about everything from fire safety to good tooth-brushing habits."
"Listen, this wasn't my idea." He rubbed the palm of his hand against his buzz-cut.
She sighed. She was being unfair. It's just that with everyone else—including Samantha and Michelle—she could play off the whole accidental-arson thing as if it didn't bother her.
But this man, through no fault of his own, had witnessed her embarrassment. He'd seen her tears. He knew that the changes mattered to her. She could be as flippant as she wanted to and pretend she was tough, but he knew better. And that made her feel exposed—vulnerable. She didn't like these feelings, so she was going to ignore them. She'd do her best to remain totally professional and aloof around him.
"You're right. It wasn't your idea. And it wasn't mine. However, we're both stuck with it. so we'll make the best of it. I'll see you—" she glanced in the file "—a week from tomorrow. If I need to know or do anything more than what you've indicated in this folder, call me."
"You didn't give me your number."
"I was arrested, remember? I'm sure you have it on file." And with that, she waltzed out of the room with as much dignity as she could muster.
It was going to be a very long January.
She had to study for her boards, work, organize the Valentine's dance for the Social Planning Committee and now this. Not to mention the kids. She'd spent so long looking forward to the new year. To starting over.
New Year's Eve wasn't until Wednesday, and she was already wishing it was February.
CHUCK WATCHED CARLY Lewis . . . strut?
Stalk?
No, flounce.
Yes. Carly Lewis flounced from his office, the file grasped a little too tightly. He was going to kill Andy. The last thing he needed was a pissed off firebug helping him with the safety program.
His phone rang, and he picked it up without checking the caller ID. "Lieutenant Jefferson, Communication and Community Outreach."
He hated that his title was so long. He'd lobbied for something shorter. Mouthpiece of the Station, for instance. The Deputy Chief had nixed it.
"Chuck, it's Mom."
"Oh." Knowing that sounded less than enthusiastic, he quickly added, "Always good to hear from you, Mom."
His mother snorted. "Christmas is over. You don't have to try and be nice in order to secure a good gift."
"Mom, really, can't a son just be happy to hear from his mother?" He swung his chair around so he could look out the window that faced snow-covered Perry Square.
Cars lined the curb of the two-block park. He wondered which one, if any, was Carly's.
"Yes, I'm sure some sons are happy to hear from their mothers, but Charles, darling, you're not one. At least you won't be when I tell you that you're expected at dinner this weekend. I know it's only Monday," she assured him hastily. "But I also know if I don't give you plenty of notice, you'll be 'too busy' to come. And when I say 'too busy' I'm air-quoting it as a visual indication that I'm being sarcastic. I wasn't sure you heard the sarcasm over the phone."
"I heard it." It didn't take anyone overly astute to recognize his mother's sarcasm. His mom didn't do subtle well, probably because she didn't even try.
"See, you're such a smart boy. You must get it from your very intelligent mother, who's putting you on notice—dinner on Sunday."
He might as well start laying the groundwork for skipping out last-minute. "I'll be there if I can, but you know what my job's like."
His mother scoffed. "I know that for the first time since you started working as a cop, you're on a weekdays, nine-to-five schedule. No more swing shifts, no more weekends, which means you're able to come to dinner on Sundays. It's your New Year's resolution. Having a meal with your family each Sunday."
"I thought I was supposed to make my resolution." He scanned the sidewalk, looking for Carly Lewis.
"Have you made any resolutions?" his mom countered.
"New Year's Eve isn't for a few days, I have time."
"You also have time to start the new year off with weekly family dinners. Five o'clock on Sunday. If you're not there, I'll have Andy swear out a contempt of court against you."
"Andy's coming?"
The moment the words left his mouth he realized how they sounded, but he didn't have time to take them back because his mother answered immediately. He could hear the pain in her voice. "Andy's family. No matter what, he'll always be family, so of course he's coming."
As if shaking off the vulnerability he'd heard in her words, she added in her most bossy-mom voice, "And so are you. Don't forget. Five."
"I—"
"Oh, and I should mention that if you're dating someone, she's welcome as well. You know me, there's always twice as much food as we need."
There she was.
Carly.
The public entrance to the police station was on the other side of the building. Which meant she'd gone out the back and had to walk the length of the block to get to her car. He watched, waiting to see which vehicle she approached. But rather than going to one of the cars, she headed into the park, toward the gazebo.
When he didn't say anything, his mother added, "Charles, it's time for you to settle down. It's been a long time since Ami."
"I've dated since Ami," he answered by rote. His concentration was on Carly. What was she doing?
"But no one for very long. Nothing serious. You haven't dated anyone long enough to come meet your mother. Not since Ami."
He wished his mother would stop saying his ex's name. "Mom, I'm an adult."
"And I'm your mother. I want you to be happy. You need a good woman in your life. And I've decided that my New Year's resolution is going to be finding you one."
That was just what he needed. His mother on a matchmaking mission. "I don't need my mother finding me dates."
"Fine, then bring your own."
"Mom—"
"I'm serious, Charles. You find a woman to date, or I'll find one for you. And if you find one between now and Sunday, bring her to dinner."
He didn't say anything because for the life of him, he couldn't think of anything to say. He was the voice of the police department, both on camera and at community events like the Safety Awareness Program.
He was the one they shoved in front of the reporters whenever they came to cover a story. The Chief had told him he got the job because he was articulate and quick on his feet. So, why was it his mother could reduce him to an inarticulate blob?
"Charles, did you hear me?"
"I heard you, Mom. And I'll see you Sunday. Gotta go." He hung up and reminded himself that in the future he should always, always check the caller ID. How hard was that to remember?
The idea of a Sunday dinner at his parents' didn't appeal. It wasn't that he didn't love his family and didn't like spending time with them. It's just that Sunday dinners should include everyone, and because they no longer did, it just seemed to emphasize what was missing. Who was missing.
Chuck shook his head. He wasn't going to think about what was missing. His mom was right, they had to find a way to put themselves back together.
So Chuck would go to dinner and make nice for a couple hours.
He was welcome to bring a date, his mom had said.
It had been a while since he broke up with his last girlfriend, Patty. She was nice enough and they'd gotten along fine, but there was no spark. No chemistry.
Besides, he'd seen too many relationships fail. Hell, he'd had what he thought was a long-term relationship with Ami when he'd joined the department at twenty-three. And she hadn't lasted a year. She hated the fact he worked swing shifts, and had odd days off.
But now his mother had vowed to find him a woman. . . unless he found one himself.
He just needed a body.
A female body.
Not necessarily someone he was dating, just someone to come to a dinner and get his mom off his back for a while.
As he reflected on his mother's New Year's resolution for him, he still watched across the street. What the hell was Carly doing?
She'd walked to the gazebo in the middle of the park and was kneeling by a homeless guy who was sitting on the steps.
Chuck was up, out of his chair, and hurrying through the private door that opened directly onto South Park Row and the Square.
What on earth was the crazy woman thinking approaching a stranger? Obviously, thinking wasn't her strongest suit. After all she did torch her neighborhood. Okay, accidentally, but still. . .
He was so annoyed he hardly took note of the cold wind blowing in off the lake or the fact that he was freezing because he hadn't paused to put a coat on. He caught Carly just as she was walking away from the guy toward the line of parked cars. "What were you thinking?"
She stopped short, looked up and made a face as if she'd bitten into a lemon. "Pardon?"
"I asked what were you thinking? You don't just go talk to strangers in the park."
"And if I said he wasn't a stranger?" Her arms crossed, clutching the file to her chest as she tapped her foot.
Chuck didn't need any major insight to realize she was annoyed. That didn't faze him in the least. He was annoyed, too. And he'd match his annoyance to hers any day. "I'd say he still doesn't look like a very savory character."
"And I'd say mind your own business. Your crazy brother-in-law said I had to help with your safety thing, and I will, but that's where our relationship ends. And it so happens that I was finishing my rotation at the ER last month when Mr. Deever came in. I wanted to say hi and see how he was doing, not that it is in any way your business, and even if it were, I still wouldn't permit you to take that tone with me. Save the cop tone for cop business."
"If you'd been assaulted in the park, it would have been cop business."
"It's broad daylight, no one was assaulting me but you." She looked meaningfully at her arm.
Chuck hadn't realized he'd grabbed her arm. He dropped his hand immediately. "Sorry. You scared me."
"What, a woman who accidentally burns down a few sheds becomes such a big danger to herself and the community that you have to worry?"
"I—" What was it about this woman? She was turning him into a blathering idiot, and to date, the only other woman with that capability was his mother.
An idea started to form.
It was a crazy thought—one he'd hesitate to mention to any other woman but Carly, who'd already shown that she did crazy quite well. "I have an idea."
Carly shook her head. "Men and kids . . . it's never a good thing when either has an idea."
"You see, I need a date."
"Whoa, there, boy. That's not going to happen. Ever. Never." She paused a moment, then added, "And if that wasn't clear enough, no. Absolutely not. I've already decided I'll never marry again, but I haven't ruled out dating. However, I'm officially ruling out dating you. I have made a list of what I'm looking for in a man I date, though. And you don't possess any of the qualities I'd want."
Chuck wished he'd grabbed his coat. It was freezing outside, but it was Carly's attitude that was truly arctic.
He should take her rather emphatic no and go in. Instead, he found himself asking, "Such as?"
"If I date, I'd want a quiet man. One who wouldn't tell me what I should or shouldn't do. One who would allow me to stand on my own two feet because I guarantee that I won't be relying on a man ever again. Someone compatible. Nice even. One who doesn't mind kids and pets."
Just turn and walk away, he told himself, and instead asked, "And how do you know I'm not that man?"
"May I remind you that we've only met on two occasions, and still you felt you had the right to come running and be sure I wasn't assaulted by a patient? That whole wouldn't-tell-me-what-I-should-and-shouldn't-do? You blew that. And the quiet thing? I'll confess, I don't see that in you either."
"Maybe I like kids and pets. and some people think I'm nice." He wasn't sure why he was pushing. He absolutely didn't want to date this woman for real. She was all bristles and snarls. He liked softer women.
Carly Lewis was all edges.
She snorted at his I'm-nice statement. That sort of raised his hackles. "Listen, I simply thought it might be a win-win situation."
"Who'd win what?" she asked.
"I'd come to Sunday dinner with a woman in tow, so my mom wouldn't begin her New Year's resolution campaign and start fixing me up."
"Okay there's a win for you, but I don't see one for me. So, no thanks." She shook her head and started walking toward the cars.
Chuck followed her. "I'd say a nice meal that you don't have to cook—Mom's a good cook."
She glanced behind her and shook her head again. "I can get take-out just as easy if I don't want to cook."
The head-shaking thing was starting to get to him. He wanted to tell her if she continued shaking it that hard she was going to shake her few remaining brain cells loose, but he didn't think that would endear him to her. so he bit his tongue. "But that wasn't my big win for you. Your big win would be the fact that Andy will be there. And having spent the last few minutes in your company. I can only imagine how hard it was for you to bite your tongue in his courtroom. And you had to bite it because he's the judge. But at my mother's table, you're both guests. You'd have free rein to make his life—well at least his dinner—miserable."
That made her stop. As she turned to face him, there was a twinkle in her dark-brown eyes that said she rather liked the idea. "And you'd be on my side? No threats to haul me off to jail or anything?"
"If you're on my side and therefore against my mother as my own personal matchmaker, then you've got an ally against Andy." His brother-in-law was his best friend, but he still owed Andy for making sure the picture of him dressed up as a cowboy found it's way onto the police department's bulletin board. Chuck still got an occasional "yippee" from the guys. He could see that Carly was wavering, so he threw in, "And, of course, your kids are welcome, too."
"They're with their father next weekend." Her frown spoke volumes.
"Is there a problem with him and the kids? I could—"
"No, nothing like that." This time she shook her head softly. "It's just . . . the secretary he was boffing on my couch?"
How on earth could he forget that particular story? He nodded.
"She's moved in with him. So she's there on the weekends he has the kids. I've got a friend who's actually friendly with her ex's new girlfriend, and I've tried to emulate her and be forgiving. I've tried to be adult about it. But I've found I'm not able to be. I put on a good front for the kids, though. They don't need to feel caught in the middle. But honestly, I don't think the fire purged all of my bitterness as I'd intended. Maybe the fact I was worried about burning down the neighborhood overtook its purging effect."
"I don't know anyone who'd recover completely from something like that," Chuck assured her. "You're a good mom not putting the kids in the middle."
"You sound surprised."
Chuck was pretty sure he had the beginning of frostbite on his hands. He tried to keep his teeth from chattering as he answered, "In my line of work, I've found most divorced couples spend so much time hating each other they rarely have time to spare a thought for their kids and what the animosity is doing to them."
Carly cocked her head to the side, studying him. She let out a long, low whistle. "Lieutenant, you are officially even more jaded than me."
He didn't take offense because she was right. Instead, while she was looking less defensive, he asked, "So, dinner on Sunday at five?"
No head shaking this time . . . she nodded instead. "I have to be home by nine when my ex drops off the kids."
"That's a yes?"
"Good that you're in charge of PR and not a detective if that's the best you can do. Yes, it's a yes, Lieutenant. Just don't get any ideas that this is more than me taking advantage of an opportunity to needle 'Andy—'" she used his nickname for his brother-in-law with obvious delight "—without being tossed in jail for contempt."
He held up his hand and made a scout sign. "I swear, no illusions of us liking each other. And it might be best if you started calling me Chuck instead of Lieutenant. I'll pick you up at four-thirty."
"Fine, Chuck." She started walking toward the row of cars lining the Square and moved toward a van.
It was a very mommish vehicle. If he'd chosen, he'd have said Carly drove a Jeep. Tough, able to go off-road, take a beating and still get her where she wanted to go. Yet, there she was getting in a van. A soft, mommish van.
"Hey, I need an address," he called before she got in.
"You've got that on file, too," she repeated. "I'm sure you'll figure it out."
He watched her exit her parking space and head around the Square. He would very definitely figure it out.
When he heard Andy's claim in the courtroom, Chuck had been less than enthusiastic. But after today, the January Safety Awareness Program was looking to be a lot more interesting than he'd anticipated.
January
"SAMANTHA, I HAVE NO idea why I said yes," Carly said on Friday as she trailed after Samantha from examination room to examination room.
She'd seen healthy kids who'd come in for immunizations and check-ups, kids with flu, kids with scrapes, breaks and the occasional mystery rash. It was so nice of Dr. Jackson to let her shadow Samantha today. But rather than concentrating on what nursing in a pediatric practice was like, all she could think about was her dinner with Chuck's family in two days.
Samantha ignored Carly's rhetorical question as she stood at a nurses' station and updated the chart from the last patient, five-year-old Jessie, who'd come in with a BB in her ear. "Are the kids going with you? They could come have dinner at my place, if you'd like."
"They'll be at their dad's. I take them over right after school tonight, and he'll bring them back Sunday night by nine. So they're no problem."
"Well, then, there you go." Samantha went back to work on the file. "You're single, the kids are accounted for. There was absolutely no reason not to say yes."
"Except I don't like Chuck at all. It's not a real date, he made that clear, and sure, I'm relieved, because he's nothing like the man I'll date when I start to date again."
Samantha paused and looked up. "You've given this some thought."
"Sure. When I date again—and despite the fact it doesn't sound the least bit appealing right now, I suspect it will again someday—when that day comes, I want someone who's the antithesis of Dean. Loyal, quiet. Someone who doesn't mind my independence, and is independent himself. The lieutenant is anything but quiet, and he's bossy. You should have seen his office. It almost made Sean's room look neat, and that's hard to do."
"Well, see, you're just a cover. No worries. A free meal, some adult conversation. It's win-win. And of course, there's the chance to needle the judge."
Carly grinned at the thought. "Yeah, there is that."
"So relax." Samantha deposited the updated file in a basket, and grabbed the next one. "I'm sure you're right and it's nothing."
"Okay, you're right." She felt better. More centered. Samantha was like that. She mothered everyone, and Carly wouldn't have admitted it out loud, but she'd needed that today. It was at a moment like this that losing her parents kicked her all over again, even after all these years.
"So, about the Valentine's dance?" Samantha said, changing the subject. "How's that coming? Did you get a band or DJ? Michelle and I are here to offer whatever help you need."
"I figured we'd just set up an iPod station with speakers all over. I know that Sean and his buddies did something like that for a party and the kids loved doing their own music."
"Kids?"
Carly nodded. "At the dance."
"Carly, did you look at the file Michelle gave you?"
"Not yet. I mean, with finals, graduation, work and interning, not to mention my brush with the law, I haven't had much time. It was on my list for this week. It's barely January and I've got until February. How hard can it be? You and Michelle got the two hardest events."
"Carly, the dance isn't for the kids. It's for the adults. All the parents of current students and alumni of the school. Pretty much anyone who will pay for the ticket. A fundraiser that's practically a mini-reunion. If you'd read the file, you'd have seen that the PTA voted to change it last year."
"But. . . I mean . . . " Last year was a haze. She'd been so unbelievably busy and missed a lot of meetings. "I must have missed that discussion and vote last year."
Missing PTA meetings was definitely something she'd avoid in the future. Nothing good ever came from missing a PTA meeting. She had the folder Michelle had given her, but she'd only given it a cursory glance because she knew she couldn't really work on the dance until January, and hadn't anticipated it being a big deal.
"You're sure about the adult thing?" she asked, weakly.
"Positive."
"Seriously, I want to know what I've done in my past to anger the universe. I am a woman who doesn't believe in romance, but I figured the dance wasn't a problem because it was for the kids. I'd bring in a sound system for them, throw up a few paper streamers, and have some snacks on hand, and I'd be done. But adults? Happy couples all over the place dancing and making googly Valentine eyes at each other? I'm going to hurl worse than that kid in Exam Two."
"Michelle and I will help," Samantha promised.
Carly knew that Samantha meant her offer, but rather than just accepting or declining she groused. "You and Michelle will be two of the worst—"
"Googly-eyed couples?" Samantha's grin said she wasn't insulted in the least.
"Yeah."
"Sorry." Samantha didn't look the least bit apologetic, either.
"Don't get me wrong," Carly assured her. "I'm happy for you and Harry and for Michelle and Daniel, but . . . " She shook her head. "A Valentine's dance for adults, and dinner with my warden and the judge who sentenced me. My life continues its downhill spiral."
"Well, the good news is you've got nowhere to go but up."
Carly snorted. Samantha had been a unending font of optimism since they'd met. She claimed it was all because of some book, but Carly suspected that Samantha was at heart a Pollyanna.
If there was an antithesis of Pollyanna, that's what Carly was.
Planning an adult Valentine's dance was a lot different than planning something for kids. What an idiot to not have known that this was a grown-up affair and fundraiser?
An adult Valentine's dance.
She'd suspected that the universe hated her since the moment she'd found her husband with his secretary.
Now she was sure.