by Kira Archer
“I don’t know. I think it’s nice that you’ve got so many people who care about you.” Gina brushed imaginary lint off her skirt and looked back out her window at the scenery going by.
“Do you have siblings?” he asked.
“No.”
Rick’s eyebrows rose at that firm, flat word. No emotion behind it. No anything. Just…no.
“Parents?” he asked. He knew he was prying. She hadn’t volunteered any extra information and didn’t seem to be welcoming any conversation in that direction, but he knew almost nothing about her.
“I have parents,” she said, with that eye roll tone of voice he was starting to love so much. “But my dad left when I was little. It was just me and my mom. She’s great. Worked her ass off to keep a roof over our heads, keep me fed and happy. And I have Nat. She’s the closest thing I have to a sister.”
“I’d like to meet her sometime. You know, when I’m not in the middle of arresting you.”
Gina smiled at him, and his heart warmed. “She owns the bakery with her husband. I’m sure you’ve seen her around.”
“Well, yeah, but seeing her around is different from meeting her. If she puts up with you on a regular basis, she must be something special.”
“Oh, ha ha.”
“How did you guys meet, anyway?”
Gina looked back out the window, all hint of amusement gone from her face. Apparently that question wasn’t as innocent as he’d thought. She was quiet for long enough that he didn’t think she would answer.
Finally, she said, “Her parents took me in as a foster kid for a few weeks when we were younger.”
“You were in foster care?” His stomach dropped thinking of what she must have gone through to land in the system.
“Yeah. So?” she snapped. Then she took a deep breath. “Sorry. Kind of a sensitive subject. It was only for a few weeks.”
“My fault. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”
“You didn’t. It’s okay.” She sighed again. “I came home from school one day and no one was home. I usually had a sitter until my mom got home at five. But the sitter had gotten in a fender bender and wasn’t able to come over. She didn’t get a hold of my mom until after I’d already gotten home. My mom called to make sure I was okay. Her boss wouldn’t let her off early. But it was only for a couple hours. I was ten. I said I’d be okay. She called every fifteen minutes or so to make sure I was okay. I wasn’t scared. But I wanted to do something nice and have dinner made for her when she got home. She always worked so hard…”
Her words choked off, each one ripping a tiny hole in Rick’s heart. Gina stopped to clear the emotion from her throat before she continued. “I made macaroni and cheese.” She gave him a sad smile. “I was good at mac and cheese. But I spilled a bit of the cheese powder on the burner and it set off the smoke alarm. My neighbor investigated, found me home alone in a smoky kitchen, and called the cops.”
Rick’s stomach bottomed out. He knew what was coming.
“I told them what happened. That my mom would be home soon. That she kept calling and checking on me. That she was a good mom. But it didn’t matter. The cop said he had to follow procedure.” She sneered on that word, and Rick couldn’t blame her. The thought that made him truly ill was thinking of what he’d have done in the same situation. A child, home alone, starting a fire in the kitchen, trying to cook.
Probably the same damn thing. Followed procedure. Taken the child into custody until they could talk to the mother. Found out what was going on. Even though it could take weeks to wade through the paperwork and red tape.
Gina continued, unaware of his silent struggle. “Child Services came and got me. There were a lot of questions. They wouldn’t let me talk to my mom. And then they took me to Nat’s house.”
Finally a small smile peeked out of the pale mask Gina’s face had become. “Nat was so sweet. Took my hand and dragged me into her room. Showed me where I’d sleep. Handed me a big stack of toys and made me play with her.”
She laughed a little. “People think I’m the tough one in our friendship, but I’ve got nothing on Nat, once she sets her mind to something. She wanted me to play and be happy, and she didn’t let up until she got her way.”
“I’m glad they at least sent you someplace good.”
“Yeah.” She nodded and looked back out the window. “Nat’s parents were great. They and Nat were the only good things to come out of that whole nightmare. It took a couple weeks for everyone to do all the investigating they needed to do, file all the paperwork and whatever other shit they thought was necessary for my well-being. They finally took me home. God, my poor mom looked like she’d aged ten years in the two weeks I was gone.”
Shit. Rick’s hands gripped the steering wheel so tight his hands ached. No wonder she hated cops. He couldn’t blame her. But he couldn’t blame them, either. They’d done what they were supposed to do. What they thought, and had been taught, was in the best interest of the child. In other circumstances, in most circumstances, it probably would have been.
“So, you kept in touch with Nat and her family after that?”
“Yeah. Nat would send me letters.” Gina laughed and shook her head. “The girl was relentless. She said we’d been sisters for two weeks so we were sisters for life now. A few years after that, my mom got a good-paying job at the bank where Nat’s mom worked. We moved to be closer to her job, and we ended up being in the same school. Spent most of our spare time together after that. Her parents moved to Pennsylvania a few years ago, but I still visit them when I can.”
“Well, I’m glad something good came of it.”
“Yeah,” she said. She took a deep breath and her face lost the closed, pinched look that tore at his heart. He wanted to pull her in his arms and erase all the pain from her past. He didn’t think she’d welcome that, though.
Her story had brought home to him even more how unsuited they were for each other. She obviously had a deep-seated hatred of authority figures, cops in particular. And the bitch of it was that he actually understood. But what would she say if he told her he’d have done the same thing? It wasn’t something he wanted to find out. But he couldn’t let it go completely.
“You know that the system—”
“Don’t.”
He glanced at her, but she was staring straight ahead, her jawline tense like she was gritting her teeth.
“Don’t say it. I know the system helps a lot of kids. I know the rules are there for a reason, and more good happens than bad. And I know firsthand there are wonderful foster homes and families out there. But none of that changes how I felt, then and now.”
She turned and looked at him. “My problem is that they followed the rules rather than listen. All they had to do was listen. I was ten. I wasn’t an infant. My mom was a good mom. Our house was clean, nice. It was a home that she worked hard to maintain. I was well fed, well cared for, well loved. She never left me alone, not even for a minute. She’d never even so much as left me in the car while she put gas in it.
“What happened that day wasn’t her fault, and she made sure nothing like it could ever happen again. Even the officers who did listen couldn’t do anything about it. They had to follow their guidelines. They got my case pushed through all the hoops as fast as they could because they knew I belonged back home with my mom. And I’m grateful to those people. But that’s my issue. I get that those guidelines are needed. I really do. But they shouldn’t be so all-encompassing that they overshadow everything else. There are exceptions to every rule.”
“Yes. There are. But if cops went into every situation thinking it might be the exception, a lot might fall through the cracks. It’s safer for everyone to assume the worst and hope for the best. And if you do find the exception, do what you can to remedy the situation. The system might be flawed, but it helps more than it hurts.”
“I know that,” she said quietly.
Yeah. She knew it. But it didn’t change anything. And he couldn’t bl
ame her.
“So,” she said. “Now that I’ve totally killed the mood in here, what was your childhood like?”
He laughed. “Have you ever been at the market right before a snowstorm?”
“You mean when everyone is running around like crazy, snatching things off the shelf like they are going to starve to death at the first sign of a snowflake?”
“Yeah. That. That is pretty much my childhood.”
“Ah, come on. If you had four brothers, I could see that. Boys are a rambunctious pain in the ass. But four sisters?”
His eyes widened. “Oh, you have no idea. And the older they got the more…fun it got.”
Gina laughed. “Yeah, I can imagine.”
“Dad and I would find a quiet corner to hide in for at least one week of the month. It was too dangerous to show our faces unless we came bearing chocolate and chick flicks.”
That made her laugh, and the knot in Rick’s stomach loosened at the sound. God, he’d sacrifice a lot to hear that sound.
Rick turned into the driveway of his parents’ two-story Secaucus home. Complete with white picket fence and flower-filled window boxes. Gina’s eyes grew round surveying his parents’ home, and Rick suddenly felt self-conscious. He wanted her to like it, though the strength of that feeling confused him. He couldn’t see Gina living in a place like that, no matter how hard he tried. It’d be like plunking an exotic rain forest creature in the middle of the Sahara desert and telling it to thrive. It didn’t work. Another mark against them. Because the home with the white picket fence, the dog, the 2.5 kids…that was Rick’s dream. That’s what he wanted to come home to every night when he got off work. Gina simply didn’t fit in with that dream.
Though that didn’t matter, right? Yes, they had this amazing attraction. But that’s all it was.
Still…he wanted her approval. And he didn’t want to examine why too closely.
“Wow,” she said, and for once, it didn’t sound sarcastic. “This is beautiful.”
He happiness flooded through him. “Thanks.”
“You grew up here?”
“No. I grew up in Hoboken. My parents moved out here once all of us had left the nest.”
“Ah, okay. That makes sense.”
“Why?”
She shrugged. “It seems so pleasant. So unlike you.”
He mock-glared at her, but before he could say anything the front door flew open and Jenny poked her head out.
“They’re here!” she shouted into the house before turning to bound down the steps.
“Oh God,” Gina muttered.
“You’ll be fine,” Rick promised. “Take a deep breath. And don’t make any sudden movements.”
“Would it help if I played dead?”
He laughed again. “Unfortunately, no. Incoming.” He pointed out the window right as Jenny wrenched open the door.
“Come on in! I’m so glad you came, Gina. The family is so excited to meet you. Come on!”
Gina shot a helpless look in his direction, but Rick put his hands up and chuckled. He was no match for Jenny.
His sister hurried Gina up to the house, stopping to point at everything in the yard that held any significance. The tree where they’d all carved their initials. The spot on the driveway where his niece had fallen off her bike and broken her arm. The basketball hoop on the garage where Rick still played one-on-one with his dad.
He shook his head, chuckling at the bemused look Gina sent his way. Once they’d disappeared inside, he leaned his head back against the headrest and took a deep breath. He didn’t know if he had the strength for what was coming. He loved his family more than life, but they were a lot to take sometimes. Bringing a girl home, friend or not, was sure to escalate the situation beyond reason. Too ironic that the girl he finally brought home was a girl he wasn’t keeping.
Suddenly, he really wished that weren’t the case. But they were too different. They couldn’t cross the divide between them. He wasn’t going to stop being a cop. He loved his job. And Gina wasn’t going to let go of a justified prejudice she’d had since childhood. She wasn’t going to flip a switch and suddenly become a model, law-abiding, cop-loving citizen.
He tried to picture what it might be like to be with her. Not just in bed. In fact, he’d been trying very hard not to picture that since the second she’d walked up to him in that form-fitting leather skirt she’d poured herself into. The image of peeling her out of that skirt was the last thing he needed in his head right before he walked into his parents’ house.
But the rest. Dating her. Hanging out with her. Seeing her every day. Hearing that laugh. Pushing all her buttons just to see which of his buttons she’d push back. That was actually something he could imagine all too easily. Something he was beginning to want more and more.
Jenny waved at him to come in. Time to wade into the storm and hope he’d make it out in one piece.
And hope that Gina was still by his side at the end. Because despite everything stacked against them, he couldn’t get her out of his mind.
He was so screwed.
Chapter Twelve
Gina walked slowly down the hall, watching Rick get older as the pictures went on. There was a family picture taken every year from the date of his parents’ marriage to the present year. He had been an unbelievably cute baby. Adorable toddler with chubby cheeks and a mischievous grin—which he still had. She could see the adult he’d become even in his baby pictures. And it wasn’t too hard to imagine him holding his own child with chubby cheeks and his father’s smile.
She stood back, surprised at that thought. Since she was eyeball-deep in happy family photos it wasn’t such a huge stretch of the imagination, but it was for her imagination. The whole happy family thing wasn’t something she’d really envisioned for herself. Not that she had any objections to kids. It was…well, if she were really honest with herself, she was afraid. Terrified to be in charge of someone else’s life to such a degree. To be their sole source of survival.
She didn’t know how her mother had done it. But her mom had always kept a decent roof over Gina’s head, food in her belly, clothes on her back. Even Christmas presents under the tree. Every year. The things her mom must have sacrificed to make sure Gina grew up healthy and happy boggled Gina’s mind. She wasn’t sure if she had it in her to do so much for someone else. What if she wasn’t good enough? Wouldn’t it be better to not even try than risk screwing up some poor kid because he or she had the misfortune of being her offspring?
“He was such a good boy,” Rick’s mom said, startling Gina as she came up behind her.
After swallowing her heart back down to where it belonged, Gina smiled at her, still a bit uncomfortable. But only because she didn’t know the older woman. Rick’s mom, Linda, had made Gina feel nothing but welcome since the second Jenny dragged her through the door and right into her mother’s arms.
“He was always a help with the girls. My twins, Karen and Stacy, were born when he was only eighteen months old, so I had my hands full. But he was a helper even then. Always wanting to help change the babies, or hold them and play with them. By the time Annie came along, he was a pro at being a big brother. And he practically raised Jenny by himself. Wouldn’t let me do a thing.”
Rick joined them, laughing. “Hardly. I shared my toys every now and then and tried to keep the girls from killing themselves. Or each other.”
His mother patted his cheek. “No small feat. Those girls, I don’t know about them sometimes.” She shook her head but was smiling fondly.
Gina’s heart contracted with an overdose of the warm fuzzies. After seeing how Rick had grown up, it was easy to understand why he was the way he was. With such a big family, at least one of them had to be organized, or the place would have fallen down around their ears. Oh, it still seemed chaotic. But it was an organized chaos. Rick was definitely a chip off his mother’s block. The woman ran a tight ship.
She had given Gina a huge hug and sent her off with Jenny t
o explore the house. Every room she’d seen had been neat and organized, everything in its place, shelves tidy with boxes and baskets and labels. The place was a Better Homes and Gardens dream.
Jenny had stuck to the basics. Kitchen, full of light and the delicious smells of cooking food; living room, in pristine order with requisite family piano covered in framed photos in the corner; family room, with some sort of cushy chair or sofa in every corner; bathroom, fairly typical except for the crafty little sign over the toilet if you sprinkle when you tinkle, be a sweetie and wipe the seatie.
And in every available space of the house was family. Rick’s four sisters were in the kitchen, helping get things ready for dinner. Karen and Stacy’s husbands were in the backyard on the deck, watching their kids run around. The twins, Karen and Stacy, had actually married twin brothers. The logistics of that boggled Gina’s mind. They’d had a double wedding on their 24th birthday and had each popped out a kid within a year of marriage with another one following not too long after.
Annie was getting ready to graduate with a nursing degree and was dating a nice man who was working (he was a fireman) but would try to stop by later. And Jenny was starting her first year at college, going for a general associate’s degree until she figured out what she wanted to do with her life.
Jenny had informed her of all this as they’d wandered the house. Every person Gina had been introduced to welcomed her with a huge smile. She was torn between wanting to roll around in their warm happy family vibes like a kitten in a fleece blanket and running for the hills before she somehow destroyed their mojo. Or they destroyed hers.
“Well,” Linda said, “dinner should be about set. Let’s go see if Charlie’s ready.”
Charlie, Rick’s dad, was apparently the cook in the family. At least for special occasions. He was in the kitchen stirring some delicious-smelling steak strips in a big slow cooker and laughing with one of Rick’s brothers-in-law. Gina’s eyes widened at the display spread out on the counter. Three large slow cookers held steak strips, chunks of chicken, and shredded pork. Alongside those was every taco fixing you could think of: shredded lettuce, cheese, tomatoes, lime wedges, refried beans, salsa, three different kinds of guacamole, and tortilla chips.