Shoeless Child
Page 23
“That might be best,” Alex smiled.
She put their gift under a pile of other presents on the birthday-decorated table, then with Jake showed them her small kitchen. “Still pinching myself that that nightmare brought me here,” she said, glancing fondly at Jake.
They took some moments, the four of them apart from the commotion, and sat at the kitchen counter.
“You’ve remade your life,” Kerri said to Rachel, looking around at the open shelving showing neat stacks of china, canned goods, filled rustic baskets. Walls and the refrigerator were studded with more photos and Charlie’s doodles and drawings. Before them on the counter was a bowl of fresh fall apples.
Rachel toyed thoughtfully with some brown sugar packets. “What’s amazing is, the scariest part wasn’t getting shot.”
Kerri nodded because she knew. “Depression,” she said. “Most terrifying because you think you’re done, you’re never going to pull yourself back up again.” She had talked to Rachel about her own traumas, pain that still hurt.
The four of them got in much in a few minutes. Rachel had been reading Kahlil Gibran; loved one of his quotes so much she had printed it out, framed it, and hung it on the kitchen wall.
Jake reached for it and passed it around. Kerri’s shoulder touched Alex’s as they read, “Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.”
“Amen,” Alex said quietly.
Jake gave a crooked smile. “Now if I could only explain that to kids.” He pointed to one of Charlie’s drawings. It looked like a grasshopper trying to jump through too-tall grass, but the background was yellow, sunny. “He seems okay.”
“No scary masked guys?” Alex asked.
Rachel’s eyes glistened. “A few nightmares a week at first, only one in the last six days.”
“You’ve both come back.” Kerri’s eyes met hers. “You struggled through pain to be strong for your child.”
Jake clasped Rachel’s hand.
Kerri sighed and looked back out to the dining area, its table covered with a paper rainbow tablecloth. Birthday hats, paper plates, and napkins all bore the same theme.
“Rainbows,” she looked back to Rachel, smiling.
“It appealed. After the storm, right?”
They fell silent, listening to the kid clamor and yakking parents. The kitchen window let in early December sunlight; overlooked Bellevue Hospital and Bellevue South Park with its playground, swings, exercise trails, and animal sculptures. Rachel had made friends in the building. Many doctors, nurses, and their families lived there.
A nurse Kerri was sure she recognized stuck her head in brightly. “Ready to light the candles?”
Kids clambered into their seats. Rachel carried out the cake decorated with a rainbow and flowers. Charlie – “Wow!” - raised his eyebrows and shoulders and sent his biggest blast of air to douse the tiny flames. The walls shook with voices singing Happy Birthday.
Then, oohing, Charlie opened his gifts. “Awesome! Thank you!” he kept piping at one action toy after another. Jake and Rachel bent to him, helping with wrappings. Once, Kerri saw Rachel fighting tears, but Jake was there with his arm around her.
When Charlie finally opened the present from Alex and Kerri, he fell silent. Blinked, stared, then was lost in it, murmuring, “Wow, oh wow” as he turned page after page of The Art of Maurice Sendak.
He stayed lost in it as the party wound down. Parents gathered their kids high on sugar, and few noticed that as he said his good-byes, he ran back to the book.
Until Kerri and Alex started to leave.
He clung to them, out the door, down the hall and by the elevator. Jake and Rachel hovered, looking tired but happy.
“I love the book,” he whispered, his round, soulful eyes going to both of them. “I can’t wait to get back to it.”
“You’ll draw us some pictures?” Kerri asked, kneeling to hug him.
“Yes. Lots.” He put his arms around her and buried his face in her shoulder. “Y’know what?” he said softly.
“What?”
“I want to be like you when I grow up.”
Kerri’s eyes misted painfully – “Aww” - as she hugged him tighter. This child could always make her cry.
Then he pulled back; looked at Alex too and his eyes lit. “I’m gonna be in a holiday play. Wanna hear about it? Will you come?”
They congratulated him and said of course. The once mute, traumatized little boy was going to be in Peter and the Wolf, playing one of the animal friends who help Peter catch the big bad wolf.
“He’s still learning his lines,” Jake said, reaching to tousle Charlie’s hair.
“What’s to learn?” Charlie protested. “I’m a duck.”
They all laughed as the elevator arrived.
73
The sun still glowed on the trees and lawn of Bellevue South Park. They found a bench and sat, watching bundled-up kids on swings, activity on the volleyball court and the jogging trail.
“This is nice,” Kerri said, laying her head on Alex’s shoulder.
His arm was around her. “Nah, I miss all the stress and no sleep.”
She laughed.
They sat like that, not speaking, just slumped contentedly together. But Kerri knew they were thinking the same thoughts.
“Rachel seems so happy,” she said after a while.
“Charlie too.”
“She’s finally found happiness. She’s so courageous.”
“But still pinching herself.” Alex was thoughtful for a moment. “Sometimes it’s all one big stumble. You try your best and bang, hard times. You just have to hang on, put one foot in front of the other…”
Kerri sighed, nodded, and they fell silent again. Alex looked up to the sky, starting to darken with cloud veils of mauve and violet. “Temperature’s dropping.”
“Mm-m, getting chilly.” She snuggled deeper into the crook of his arm. “Y’know what?”
“What?”
“I’m loving this. In the whole world, you are the only place where I feel safe and warm.”
“Write that into your wedding vows.”
“Okay.”
“When?”
Her eyes welled, and she took a moment. “Tonight, let’s talk. Figure a way, throw caution to the wind.” She started to get worked up. “So what if the brass knows we’re married, starts hollering Can’t have that, have to be separate you, work different shifts in different time zones…”
“Not gonna happen.”
“You know it will.”
“Nope. We’ll figure something. Did I mention? A new apartment’s opening in my building. Two bedrooms. Gummy would love having a room of her own.”
“Ah, that settles it.”
He exhaled, and looked at his watch. “Restaurant or home for dinner?”
“Home…magic word.” Kerri looked up at him, raised her hand to touch his jaw, his stubble. “I’ll get the fireplace started, you cook.”
“Deal. Then we’ll talk.”
“Right.”
“Awesome,” Alex smiled, and squeezed her tighter.
Author’s Note
Hello, and thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this book, I would love to ask you a favor to please spare a moment to leave a review for SHOELESS CHILD. Here’s the link to do that. It would mean so much.
If you do write a review, or comment on your favorite social website, I’d love to hear from you and thank you. Here’s my Facebook author page. Or come say hi and friend me? My email is Joyce@jaschneiderauthor.net
A new thriller’s in the works, so please join my Newsletter at http://jaschneiderauthor.net and/or follow me on BookBub (click upper right). You’ll be the first to know about sales or new books about to release.
Huge thanks again for reading!
Joyce J
About the Author
J.A. (Joyce Anne) Schneider is a former staffer at Newsweek. She is the author of the Embryo medical thril
ler series, and of Fear Dreams, Her Last Breath, Watching You, and Shoeless Child. All are standalone psychological/police thrillers featuring NYPD Detective Kerri Blasco.
She loves to hear from her readers. Her website is http://jaschneiderauthor.net, her email address is joyce@jaschneiderauthor.net, and come say hi on Facebook http://tinyurl.com/7fm44mk. You can also join her website Newsletter to hear about sales and new books about to release. She lives with her family in Connecticut, and is working on her next Detective Kerri Blasco thriller.