Heal Me

by Grady, D. R.

  They got to church unscathed, with the men putting the three women between them. Jenna felt fortunate to be seated next to Owen. Fred, with a frown, noticed his mother and TJ were then seated next to one another, and quickly rectified the problem. With little fanfare, he picked TJ up and moved her to his chair, while he plopped into her now vacant one. Jenna saw her lean over and hiss something into his ear.

  Fred just smiled and patted her head. An action that increased the hissing. Owen leaned over in his seat and made a face at her. That calmed her down, some. Fred’s mother gazed straight ahead, a calm, serene expression on her face. Jenna figured she decided to ignore them.

  It wasn’t a bad idea, except they were vastly entertaining. Owen may very well be onto something here with the Fred–TJ thing. She definitely came to life whenever he was around. And he seemed to do the same in her vicinity. There was no denying they rubbed sparks off one another. Jenna shot a look at her companion and wondered again what it would be like to kiss him.

  Before she remembered where she was and figured she’d better remove such thoughts from her mind. She was slightly appalled at herself. Something about the tall, quiet man beside her definitely affected her physiology. Which may not be a bad thing, but something she figured ought to be kept under wraps. At her age, she really should be able to control herself better.

  After the service, they went on to a restaurant for a quick meal before heading over to his mother’s house.

  “This seems so weird going to Aunt Rachel’s house with you,” McCully told him, poking him for good measure.

  “Yeah, I know. Seems weird that my mother looks and acts like you,” he replied drolly, tweaking her nose in affection. Yet he still couldn’t believe he was related to her. He wondered idly if his mother could eat like her.

  “So what is our mothers’ maiden name?” he asked, after thinking the question.

  “Finnigan,” McCully replied, leaning forward to peer out the window. “That’s the family house, by the way. Aunt Rachel took care of Granny and Gramps until they died.”

  He turned in his seat to look at Jenna, who sat in the middle, separating Fred’s mom and McCully. She sent him a sweet smile, and he was quite happy he asked her to join them.

  “I’m eager to meet your mother,” she said.

  “She’s just like McCully. It’s a bit scary, actually.”

  “Is not. Besides, I’m more like my mother than yours,” she reminded him.

  “McCully, they’re identical twins.”

  “So?”

  “So, they’re probably more alike than you and your mother. Which means you’re just like my mother,” he said morosely and scratched an itchy spot under his lip. It made him think about Jenna’s lips and how he really wanted to kiss those lips, or nip at them, and most definitely taste them.

  “I’m not sure if my folks will be here or not today. I called Aunt Rachel and told her we were converging. She tried to coax me into bringing you all for lunch, but I told her we just wanted chocolate cake. She probably pulled out all the stops,” McCully warned.

  “What exactly does that mean?” Fred asked from behind the wheel.

  “She’s still going to have a spread,” she clarified.

  Her estimate wasn’t very far off. When they reached his mother’s home, the most delectable scents wafted out on the humid air. Tempting, and nearly irresistible, the scent of chocolate already hung heavy from the chocolate factory located only a few short blocks away. His mom pulled him into a tight hug before he stepped back and introduced the Savages and Jenna.

  Jenna got a hug, too, as did Mrs. Savage, who returned the embrace with her usual aplomb. “Well, Detective McCully does look a good bit like you,” Fred’s mom exclaimed as she took in his mother’s features.

  “Yes, she didn’t have many options. Most of the Finnigan females end up with these features. It’s always been the case,” his mom said with a rueful smile.

  Then she turned her attention to Jenna. “So, love, you’re a doctor?”

  “I am,” Jenna answered with a calm serenity that would have clued in most passersby as to her chosen profession.

  “That’s lovely. Do you enjoy your work?”

  “Most of the time,” Jenna answered truthfully, he was certain. Her lips twisted into a chagrined smile.

  As they talked, his mother ushered them into the same room they had occupied the day before. He took a place on the sofa again, and tugged Jenna down beside him. His mother took the vacant seat on his other side and Fred, Mrs. Savage, and McCully settled into individual chairs scattered around the rather large room.

  Spread on the coffee table was a large, succulent looking chocolate cake. Near the decadent looking dessert were plates scattered with cookies, sweet breads and even some tiny sandwiches and pastries. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” he told his mother with a frown.

  “Are you kidding? She lives for this kind of thing. Besides, I think most of the sweets were probably in the freezer,” McCully said, her gluttonous look in place as she surveyed the fare.

  “I do enjoy this sort of thing, love. Since I haven’t been able to feed you for thirty plus years I have a lot of catching up to do,” she said gently with a motherly pat to his arm.

  “You have had to feed McCully, so I suppose you’d have to be good at this,” Owen conceded.

  “Lands, yes. She is one who needs plenty of calories. Takes after we Finnigans in that, of course. Who wants cake?” she asked and smiled when everyone indicated they’d take a slice.

  “I might have bragged about your chocolate cake, Aunt Rachel,” McCully admitted around a rather large bite.

  “I do tend to get compliments on this recipe, love,” his mother replied with an absent tap to her hair.

  “Yes you do. Okay, I’m ready for another one,” McCully answered, thrusting her plate forward.

  “My, you can eat, can’t you, young lady?” Mrs. Savage commented with a bemused expression.

  “None of her brothers can keep up with her,” his mother stated with pride.

  “Yeah, well, O’Maley can,” McCully said in disgruntlement.

  His mother’s eyes widened. “Really? He can keep up with you?”

  “Yes, without difficulty,” she said, her chin nearly on her chest.

  “Well done, my son,” his mom said with pride as she turned a beaming smile in his direction.

  He smiled back, but didn’t reply because his mouth was full. He didn’t believe it was polite to comment with a full mouth and this cake really was spectacular.

  “Oh, my,” Jenna said and all eyes turned to her. She held up the cookie she’d just bitten into. “The only other person I’ve ever encountered who can make cookies this delicious is my sister-in-law, Emmy.” She turned to his mother. “Did you make these?” And he saw the cookie in her hand was a shortbread.

  “I did, love. They’re a family recipe that’s been passed down for generations.”

  “Are you aware that Owen’s favorite cookies are shortbreads?” Jenna asked.

  “Now that doesn’t surprise me. After all, he is Scottish. We’re all quite fond of those shortbreads,” she said complacently before turning her attention to her niece. “Of course, some enjoy them more than others. Some tend to go for chocolate.”

  McCully beamed at her aunt. “I like the shortbreads, just not as well as I enjoy this cake.”

  Owen leaned over the coffee table and palmed a few of the shortbreads in question and wasn’t exactly surprised when Jenna swiped one of his. He’d grown used to thieving women in the past few months. He was grateful to be far enough from his partner that her access to his plate was limited. She excelled at lifting his goods. The sweeter, or more chocolaty the treat, the more likely he was to lose said baked good.

  “These are exceptional,” he exclaimed after biting into his first cookie. “Wow, you are every bit as good at baking these as Emmy, and I didn’t believe anyone could come close to her skill.”

&n
bsp; “I’m probably older than she is, dear, so I’ve had more practice. And I am a Scots girl, so I should be able to make these cookies well.”

  “Yes,” Jenna agreed with a warm smile. Man, how he loved that smile. She was definitely the most amazing of women. And he had a pretty impressive mother, two actually in the room, and a cousin who was impressive, as well.

  “So, what is your heritage?” his mother asked Marion Savage.

  “I’m Native American, obviously, but also German and Jewish,” Mrs. Savage replied. “My husband had some Jewish blood, West Indies, he was born in Barbados, and we think English as well.”

  “You think?” his mother asked, frowning.

  “Well, he didn’t know who his people were. So, we’re just surmising, really. Some he picked up from the few relatives he did locate.”

  “Dad located some relatives?” Fred sat up abruptly.

  “Yes, but before you were born, honey. They’re all gone now, unfortunately,” Mrs. Savage said regretfully.

  “You have no cousins?” McCully asked in astonishment, her eyes wide.

  “None that I know of,” Fred replied with a negligent air. Owen had always assumed his lack of a known heritage had never bothered his friend, but now it seemed that wasn’t the case.

  “Of course, he does have a few on my side, but none on his father’s.”

  “Wow, I can’t imagine not having hundreds of cousins,” McCully breathed before looking at her newest relative. “By the way, you’ve now got too many cousins to count.”

  Owen swallowed. “How many of them are like you?” he asked, reaching for more cookies. These things went down easy.

  She sent him a chastising glance. “All of them are just like me. And just like you, pal.”

  Beside him, Jenna emitted what sounded like a laugh, which she covered with a delicate, ladylike cough. He sent her a suspicious look, but turned his attention back to McCully, his partner and first cousin. With that thought he turned instead to his mother. “Are you certain we’re related to her?”

  “Yes, love, we’re definitely related. Watching the two of you now it’s very evident you’re related. Even though you’ve got your father’s height and large build, you still look like a Finnigan.”

  He sent a dubious look at Fred, while helping himself to coffee. His friend wore his I’m-thinking expression and Owen watched with interest as Fred looked between them. Fred’s lower lip covered his upper one as always when he thought. Either that or his tongue stuck out.

  “You two do look like one another. I’d never noticed how much until now,” Fred decreed, still glancing between them. He leaned over and helped himself to another slice of cake, not taking his eyes off them. Owen noticed McCully’s eyes go bug-like as she took in this maneuver. Fred easily settled the cake onto his plate, and never once looked at what he did. He supposed this was impressive, except he’d seen the action so many times, it failed to impress him now.

  “How’d you do that?” McCully asked in an accusatory voice.

  “Do what?” Fred responded mildly, now finally looking at or in this case, ogling his rather large second slice of cake.

  “You got that cake on your plate and never once looked at it,” she stated, eyes narrowed.

  “He rarely does, love. Just one of Fred’s many talents,” Mrs. Savage answered for her son.

  “Personally, I never take my eyes off chocolate,” Jenna said, with a cute grin. Something warmed inside of him.

  McCully snorted and of course broke the moment. “I’m beginning to think that around this crowd, that’s a good idea.” And she sent a fulminating glare in his and Fred’s directions.

  He couldn’t help but send his own glare back at her. “Excuse me, but I don’t recall giving you my chocolate cupcakes, yet you ate them.”

  She had the decency to blush, but looked unrepentant, nonetheless. “There were extenuating circumstances.”

  “Yeah, like you didn’t have cupcakes, and I did,” he retorted.

  Jenna shuddered beside him and turning to her, he found laughing blue eyes twinkling up at him. “You and McCully need complete diet overhauls,” she stated emphatically.

  “They’re bad?” his mother asked in alarm.

  “Oh, yes,” Jenna began, but McCully slid a hand over her mouth.

  “Really, Aunt Rachel, they’re fine. We’re fine, right, O’Maley?” She turned beseeching eyes on him for assistance.

  Although new to the family, he still figured out when to pick up the ball now winging into his court. “Of course our diet isn’t bad. Jenna’s a doctor, and we all know how picky doctors are.”

  Jenna’s brow rose in question of this judicious lie. Even McCully’s hand over her mouth didn’t dampen the effect. Jenna removed the hand and turned to his mother. “I don’t know about picky, but I personally think cupcakes, doughnuts, Swiss Rolls, pizza, and coffee as a steady diet is not a balanced, nutritious way of eating.”

  “Sure it is. We’re healthy,” McCully added her two cents, again.

  “You’re getting over a nasty cold,” Jenna answered with a doctor look.

  “So are you.” McCully was quick to point out.

  “My diet hasn’t been much better than yours lately, which is why I can say unequivocally how awful your eating habits are,” Jenna returned easily.

  “But we like our diet,” Owen felt compelled to add. Besides, McCully would die without chocolate.

  “We do.”

  “I’m sure you do, but it wouldn’t hurt to add some fruit and vegetables.”

  “We get plenty of vegetables. We always get the garbage pizza, which has lots of toppings, half of which are veggies. And there’s tomato sauce on the pizza. Plus, we get a salad sometimes,” McCully defended.

  “One time we even got pineapple as a topping,” Owen deadpanned. He caught Fred’s grin out of the corner of his eye. Jenna just rolled her eyes, and McCully laughed.

  “Yes, we did. I suppose we could get veggie and pineapple pizza from now on,” she mock mused, as though she really would comply. He knew better.

  “I was thinking more along the lines of eating an apple rather than a doughnut and ordering a side order of, oh, green beans rather than French fries when you eat dinner,” Jenna said, her lips twitching as though she figured her suggestions would be met with protests.

  They were. “Green beans. Why would I choose green beans over French fries? Do I look crazy?” McCully sounded and looked aghast.

  “Oh, maybe just to shock your body once in a while by offering it nutrients it’s most likely crying for,” Jenna suggested.

  “We eat Chinese food sometimes. That has vegetables,” McCully ventured.

  Jenna sighed. “I give up. While you’re living with me, I’ll make an attempt, but you know, you’ll probably feel better eating a banana or apple than you do after consuming a three pack of cupcakes. And fruit is just as convenient.”

  “I can’t believe you eat so poorly,” his mother looked and sounded horrified. Except that Owen had encountered that same look before in her niece, so he wasn’t as apt to believe what he saw.

  “Yeah, like you eat any better, there, Aunt Rachel,” McCully scoffed.

  “True,” his mother agreed, and turned to Jenna. “I’m afraid our deplorable diets are a family trait. Although, the older I get, the better my diet has become. So there is hope, yet, for these two.”

  “You all eat so awfully?” Jenna asked candidly, and Owen watched in amusement as her cheeks look on a crimson hue. “Oh, that was terribly rude, I’m sorry,” she exclaimed, looking horrified.

  “No offense taken, because we do know ourselves, love. And, yes, most of us don’t make wise choices. But that’s only in food. Otherwise we do fairly well. I mean, look at our mate choices. Hardly any of us ever divorce.” She glanced at Fred when she said this before looking pointedly at McCully.

  Who choked on the sip of coffee she’d just taken.

  When they left, Jenna felt both relieved and sadde
ned. Owen and his mother held hands throughout the afternoon. She suspected neither noticed. And when they hugged goodbye, they both had a sheen of tears in their eyes. Never before had she thought tears in a man’s eyes so attractive. But the fact that this big, tough cop could shed a tear impressed her and humbled her. Why, she couldn’t tell, but she definitely found Owen O’Maley attractive in every way possible.

  She was relieved to be leaving because the emotion of the day had begun to weary her. Or perhaps her tiredness simply stemmed from her recovery from illness. At any rate weariness rapidly encroached so she longed for her bed. She was sleepy and feeling a bit irritable. Perhaps she just longed for a few minutes alone with Owen. There was a definite possibility in that, of course. She definitely wanted to hold and be held by him while they napped. The last few attempts she made to rest hadn’t proven very restful. She tossed and turned because he was downstairs in the basement and not beside her. How weird was that?

  Never having had trouble before sleeping alone only served to confuse and dismay her now that she missed sleeping beside the man. With his strong, masculine body right beside her there was a certain measure of safety there. If he was with her, he was safe, and so was she.

  Not that she worried overly much about his job. She knew his work was dangerous, but so was hers. She understood he could get shot or mowed down by a psycho, but then so could she. She also got exposed to the newest diseases and drugs that came along, and there was the chance of her taking them home with her.

  Jenna bit her lip. She had never considered the possibility of taking something potentially deadly home to her family, but now she thought maybe she had better consider that. She realized she was already beginning to think of Owen O’Maley as that family.

  She wondered if she should be excited by that flip in her stomach, or worried.