“Am I detecting a little sarcasm here?”
“A little.”
“What’s up?”
JJ held up a hand as if to say, “Wait a minute,” and jogged off to refill her drink. “You sure you want to hear this?” she asked Sean when she returned.
“Sure, as long as it’s not X-rated.”
“It’s not.” She sipped from her plastic cup. “I want a baby and Chris doesn’t. And he wants me to quit the department. Says it’s too dangerous.”
Sean shook his head, guffawing loudly. “Jesus. I wonder if he’s related to my gi—ex-girlfriend.” Ex-girlfriend. It felt odd even saying it to himself.
JJ looked at him with newfound interest. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”
“I did, until yesterday.”
“What happened?”
Sean shrugged, not exactly eager to talk about it. “She couldn’t handle my being a firefighter, among other things.” He glanced away. “We just didn’t work as a couple, you know? It’s hard to explain.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Yeah, it is.”
Her expression changed to one of concern. “You look really awful, you know.”
“Thanks. You’re the second person in less than ten minutes to tell me that.”
“Aren’t you sleeping?”
“Not much.”
There was a split second of hesitation before she asked, “Does this have to do with the brownstone fire?”
Sean slumped against the wall miserably. “Maybe. What have you heard?”
JJ looked uncomfortable. “You know. The kid. The chest.”
Sean glanced at her sharply. “So word’s gotten around I’m a fuckup.”
JJ peered down into her drink. “It could have happened to anyone, Sean.”
“Then why is everyone talking about it?”
“Firefighters are gossiping old biddies. You know that.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “Look, I’m sorry I even brought it up.”
“Yeah, me too. Thanks for ruining my day.” Sean tilted his head back and drank.
JJ, stung by Sean’s response, started to get up to leave. Sean, feeling even worse now, reached out for her elbow. “I’m sorry. That was totally unnecessary. Sit back down. Please.” He made himself look at her. “ Do I really look that bad?”
“Yeah.”
“Great.”
“When was the last time you took a few days off, Sean? Got away on your own?”
“I don’t know. Months ago.”
“Maybe you should go away for a long weekend or something. It might help.” JJ sighed. “I would love to get away on my own for a few days. Just to think.”
“Why don’t you?”
“Can’t afford it. We’re mortgaged up to the eyeballs on the house. Plus, Chris would probably squawk.”
“So let him squawk.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Leary motioning to him. “Can you excuse me a minute?”
JJ nodded and Sean went to rejoin his friend. “What’s up?”
“You hittin‘ on her?” Leary asked excitedly.
“What are you, out of your mind?”
“Why not? She’s hot.”
“She’s also married. To a prick who carries a gun. Remember?”
“Oh, yeah, New York’s finest. Forgot about that.”
Sean poked him hard on the shoulder. “Here’s an idea: Why don’t you mind your own business instead about worrying about everyone else’s?“
Leary’s mouth fell open. “What wild hair is up your ass today?”
“Nothing. Look, I gotta go. Give my best wishes to Nabby.” He gave Leary a light, playful punch in the arm. “I’ll catch you on the rebound, okay?”
He strode away. Everyone was getting on his nerves. Everything. JJ was right. He needed to get away.
———
“Kiss her again and she’ll get a complex.”
Gemma looked up from cuddling baby Domenica to see Michael and Theresa coming through the front door. Only twenty minutes earlier, they’d left to go out to dinner alone for the first time since their daughter was born. Now they were back, Theresa hurrying toward the couch with out- . stretched arms. Michael sounded like he was teasing but he looked alarmed.
“Is everything okay?” Gemma asked, surrendering the baby.
“You tell me.” Michael sighed, regarding his wife affectionately. “Mama Bear couldn’t relax. As soon as she ordered, she was convinced there’d been some catastrophe and we had to rush home.”
Gemma eyed Theresa. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“It’s not you,” Theresa swore, kissing her daughter’s plump fists. “It’s some weird maternal thing. I couldn’t bear to be away from her.”
“You’re away from her when you’re at work,” Michael pointed out.
“Only because I have to be. This is different.”
“I can’t wait ‘til she goes away to college and you want to be her roommate,” Michael teased.
“She’s not going away to college. She’s living at home and getting her degree online.”
Crouching down, Michael put his mouth to his daughter’s ear. “Your mama’s ubatz, Domenica. The sooner you know it, the better.”
Touched as she was by this domestic scene, Gemma felt out of place. “I guess my services aren’t needed tonight.”
“Don’t go,” Michael said. “We haven’t had dinner yet.” He gave Theresa a look. “We’re going to order Chinese. Stay.”
“You sure?”
“Stay,” Theresa echoed. “I want to hear all about you and Sean.”
“Actually,” Gemma said, working hard to sound nonchalant, “Sean and I broke up.”
Storm clouds brewed in Michael’s eyes. “What happened?”
“It was mutual, Mikey. No need to spear him with your hockey stick.”
“If you say so,” Michael grumbled, heading toward the kitchen. “What do you people want to eat?”
“Eggplant in garlic sauce,” Gemma called out.
“Moo shu pork,” Theresa said. She turned to Gemma. “It was mutual?” she repeated, sounding unconvinced. Off in the kitchen, they could hear Michael opening and closing drawers, looking for the takeout menu.
“Kind of. I don’t know.”
As Theresa held her daughter on her lap, she and Domenica looked like a modern-day Madonna and Child. Both of them glowed with contentment, making Gemma painfully aware of the void in her own life. Gemma wanted what Theresa had: a husband, a baby, and a quiet Saturday night at home eating Chinese takeout and watching videos. Was that too much to ask?
“What happened?” Theresa demanded in a low voice tinged with urgency. Gemma took this as a sign they should have this discussion quickly, since Michael was now on the phone ordering their food.
“It just wasn’t working,” Gemma confessed sadly. “I was a wreck every time he went to work, which annoyed him, and my being a witch was a little too far off the beaten track for him. It was all sorts of things.”
“What about the sex?” Theresa mouthed, as if the baby she now jostled on her knee might hear and understand.
Gemma blushed. “It was great. But he was involved in this bad fire a couple of weeks ago, and ever since then, it’s been like talking to a brick wall.”
“Maybe he was afraid that if he talked to you about it, you’d really freak out.”
“Maybe.”
It was possible Theresa had something there. Still, Sean’s silence felt more symptomatic of a lack of trust, a failure to connect. Thinking about him, Gemma was overcome with remorse and self-doubt. Maybe she should have left him alone rather than prodding him to open up? But keeping your thoughts and feelings to yourself was so alien. Her family wore their hearts on their sleeves. She and Frankie talked everything to death. Communication was the yardstick by which you measured relationships: how intimately people knew each other’s business. Now she wondered: Were there other ways of being intimate?
Michael rea
ppeared in the living room. “Ten minutes on the chow. Which really means twenty.” He settled down on the couch between his wife and cousin, transferring the baby onto his lap. “So, what did I miss?”
“Nothing,” Theresa said.
He looked at Gemma, who detected sympathy in his eyes. “I can set you up with another of the guys on the team, if you want,” he offered.
“I’ll think about it.” She held out her arms. “Give that baby back to me. You guys get to hold her all the time. I’ve got to steal time with her when I can.”
Michael willingly obliged, handing Domenica over to Gemma. She was such an easygoing baby, affectionate, with a big, gummy smile for everyone. Holding her reminded Gemma of fiddling with a camera lens: It brought everything into sharp focus, including her own behavior. She should have cut Sean some slack. She should have waited for Sean to call her. He would have eventually; she knew that. She hated the way they parted, him snarling and angry, her just withdrawing. It felt wrong. She loved him. She wanted him. She would fight for him. If he needed some space, she’d give it to him. But there was no way she was going to give up on him, or let him give up on himself.
———
She waited until the next morning to pay Sean a visit. She had toyed with the idea of stopping by as soon as she got back from Michael and Theresa’s, but it was late, and she had no idea of his schedule that week. Besides, she didn’t want to look desperate. Or crazy.
It wasn’t much of a peace offering, but Gemma had run out to battle the typical Sunday morning crowd to get coffee and some of the chocolate chip muffins Sean loved. Walking back to their building, she rehearsed what she’d say. I come bearing muffins. Too geeky. Can we talk? Better, more her style: simple, direct. Once he smelled the coffee and muffins, still warm in her hand, how could he resist? She wasn’t feeling nervous, exactly. More anticipatory.
By the time she reached Sean’s door, her heart was beating double time. She went to knock then hesitated, convinced she heard shouting coming from inside his apartment. Glancing around to make sure no one was looking, she quickly pressed her ear to the door. Definitely shouting, though it was muffled. Sounded like just one voice. Unsure of what to do, she stopped eavesdropping. If he was asleep and having a nightmare, ringing the bell would wake him. If he was on the phone having an argument, she would interrupt him. What to do?
She bit her lip. The raised voice seemed to have gone quiet, at least momentarily. Meanwhile, the coffee in her hand was getting cold.
“To hell with it,” she said out loud and rang the bell.
Immediately, Pete and Roger went crazy in their cages, their excited squawking louder than Gemma could have imagined. She cringed, praying Sean came to the door before his neighbors up and down the hall got angry. Ten-thirty on a Sunday morning might be too early for some people.
From within the apartment, footsteps pounded across the floor, and Gemma felt hope spring inside her. In just a few seconds, the door was going to open, and they’d be face-to-face. He’d smell the coffee and muffins, and break into that rugged smile that she loved, beckoning her inside. By the time the morning was through, everything would be worked out and they’d be back in each other’s arms.
One lock clicked back. Gemma’s stomach did a somersault.
Two more sprang back. Gemma held her breath.
Then the door opened, and everything fell apart.
Standing there wrapped in Sean’s robe, her long blond hair shimmering wet from the shower, was a woman. She had a cell phone in her hand and a scowl stretched across her gorgeous face.
“Yes?” she asked impatiently. Behind her, the birds’ squawking was deafening. “Shut the fuck up!” she yelled before her face seemed to collapse in on itself, from stress or annoyance, Gemma couldn’t tell which.
“Um…”
“Sean’s not here,” the woman said curtly. From her clenched hand came the tinny sound of someone’s voice shouting on the cell phone. “I’m sorry, I can’t talk now.”
She closed the door.
Gemma stood there, stunned. Who was that—? Were they—?
Gemma moved away from the door. Sean and another woman. She felt as though a giant invisible hand had plunged into her chest and torn her heart right out, leaving it hanging there, bruised and bloody. What a sap she’d been. Numb, she trudged back to the elevator. The sight of her own hallway drew tears as she remembered it strewn with stuffed animals, its emptiness now taunting her. How enchanted she’d been, willing to take a risk. Why had her intuition failed her?
Back in her own apartment, she made a beeline for the kitchen, throwing the coffee and muffins into the trash with gusto. She could still hear footsteps above—boom! boom! boom!—as the blond continued her fight with whomever was on the phone. Maybe it was Sean and they were having a lover’s quarrel. Good. She hated her pettiness, but there it was. She didn’t want to hate him, but she did. She hated them both. She slid into a kitchen chair, head in hands. Now what? The urge to wail, to just let it rip, was strong. Never, she vowed. Never again would she give her heart away so fast. If her faith had taught her anything, it was that things always happened for a reason, though the reason might not become clear for some time. There was a lesson in this, Gemma knew.
She just wished she knew what it was.
CHAPTER 14
After two days at the Blackfriar Inn, Sean had had enough. Walking through the woods, reveling in the scent of pine as shifting rays of sunshine dappled through the branches of the bare trees, his mind had returned again and again to the fire scene. He couldn’t escape the boy in the hope chest. As he headed out for a final amble through the woods before going home, his thoughts turned to JJ. He’d called once to thank her for agreeing to bird-sit. It had been the perfect barter: JJ got a weekend away free of charge, and he got to go away without freaking out Roger and Pete.
He inhaled deeply, letting the crisp air fill his lungs. At least the weekend gave him space to think about Gemma. Their timing had been off from the beginning. Then there were her friends. And the witchcraft. Part of him envied her freedom to be completely who she was, convention be damned, open to the world. But that wasn’t who he was. A fantasy flashed through his mind. He was apologizing to her for the way things had ended. “I hope we can still be friends,” he heard himself saying. He burst into bitter laughter, the sound booming through the still woods, scattering a flock of starlings. He remembered a woman saying that to him and thinking, “Fuck you! You just wrecked my life and you have the gall to think I want to keep you as a friend? Screw you!”
But he did want Gemma to remain his friend.
Being with her was like opening a new book by your favorite author: You weren’t quite sure what was in store, but you knew you’d like it. She was full of mystery and surprise, as sweet as she was iconoclastic. But he was toxic. As much as he yearned to maintain some kind of contact, he knew he shouldn’t. Gemma deserved better than being dragged down with him into his black hole. He walked on, dead leaves crunching beneath his feet. Her last words to him had been unselfish, asking him to please take care of himself. He closed his eyes, sending a message to her. I’m trying, Gemma, in the only way I know how. Please forgive me.
He couldn’t blame her if she didn’t. He couldn’t blame her for anything.
———
Turngin the corner onto his street, Sean tensed as it dawned on him he might run into Gemma—if not today, then some other time. The thought made him sad, mainly because he could so vividly picture his own inept reaction to such an encounter: shuffling feet, muttered phrases. He sucked at post-relationship stuff.
Approaching his building, he noticed what looked like a bulging, fractured rainbow wrapped in plastic. Coming closer, he saw it was the menagerie of stuffed animals he’d bought for Gemma. She had put them out in the garbage, a clear message. He tore open the bag, rescuing the hot pink wildebeest. He wasn’t sure why, only that it disturbed him to see that particular item carelessly tossed away. He�
�d give it to one of his nieces the next time he was out on Long Island.
Deflated, he entered the lobby and went up to his apartment. This was not how he’d wanted his day to begin.
Letting himself in, he noticed immediately that things were pretty much the way he’d left them—only cleaner. The rug was shampooed and vacuumed, windows denuded of grime, and nary a speck of dust could be seen on any surface.
“Merry Maids were here, I see,” Sean teased, throwing his bag down and closing the door behind him. JJ’s smile was friendly. At least someone was glad to see him.
“I couldn’t help myself,” JJ confessed, eyes momentarily straying to the TV, where she appeared to be watching some kind of canine competition on Animal Planet. “I get some of my best thinking done with a dust rag in my hand. How ‘bout you? How was your weekend away?”
“I’m back early. What does that tell you?”
Pete and Roger were going nuts at the sight of him. Crossing the room, he released them from their cages, watching as they joyously winged around the room, reveling in their freedom. Most women screamed when he freed his birds, but JJ seemed unfazed. How would Gemma have reacted? he caught himself wondering. He shook his head, clearing his mind.
“So, what did you do for fun?” he asked.
“Went shopping. Cleaned. Mainly relaxed and did some thinking.” Her eyes finally caught sight of the stuffed animal sitting by the doorway, and she looked at Sean ques-tioningly.
“It’s for one of my nieces. Go on: What else did you do?”
“That’s it, really. You?”
“Hiked. Ate. Thought. Didn’t sleep.”
“We’re quite a pair.” Pointing the remote at the TV, she turned it off. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you for letting me use your apartment this weekend, Sean. It really helped me clear my head.”
“Hey, I got a free bird-sitter out of the deal, so we both benefited.” He knew it was impolite, but he found himself hoping she’d leave soon. He wanted to be alone.
JJ rose from the couch, yawning. “I guess I should get going.”
Thank you, Lord.
“Here, I’ll walk you downstairs.”
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