Selling the Drama

by Theresa Smith

  She heard the garage door open, closing again moments later, feeling like a love-struck teenager at the way her heart accelerated with the knowledge Toby was now home. She raced to the hall, meeting him in the entryway. He looked completely washed out and deflated, his limp more pronounced than usual.

  "Hi. Are you alright?" she greeted him cautiously, worried by his appearance.

  He nodded, his face creasing in pain as he took a step towards her. "My leg just hurts. I need to get it off." Still, despite his discomfort, he pulled her against him, hugging her hard.

  Charlotte returned the embrace, putting her arm around him as they walked through to the lounge, forcing him to lean on her. She steered him to the couch, watching wordlessly as he dropped down, pulling up his pants leg immediately so he could release the prosthetic limb from his own leg. He sighed with relief as he removed it, collapsing back into the couch with his eyes closed. He rarely took it off like this, preferring to keep it on until bed, never letting anyone, even her, see him without it. His removal of it now was clear testimony to just how greatly it must have been bothering him.

  "Can I get you anything? Are you hungry?"

  He opened his eyes and looked at her with a weary expression. "A bit. But I'll get something after. Just sit with me for a while." He patted the couch beside him, smiling as she fell into it. "They're all asleep?"

  Charlotte nodded, sitting sideways so she could face him. "Sure are. How was the trip?"

  Toby's faced distorted for a moment and he shook his head. "I'd rather not talk about that right now," he muttered.

  "Okay. I have something we can talk about," she offered with a smile.

  His eyes lit up with interest. "Does this conversation include being naked?"

  She pretended to think for a moment, teasing him. "Well, I suppose, if you really think about it, yes. There was nakedness involved at some point."

  "Keep talking. Although, I did just note you used 'was', as opposed to the much more preferable, 'is'."

  "I'm pregnant." She watched him, unsure on what his reaction might be. He was supposed to have had a vasectomy by now, but the accident, and his usual busy schedule, had prevented it. He said nothing, just stared at her for a couple of long moments before tipping his head back and laughing. She smiled at that, knowing instinctively where he was coming from. "I know. I kind of had the same reaction."

  He leaned over, pulling her into his arms, still laughing as he hugged her. "Of course you are," he said. "How is that possible?"

  "I was very sketchy with feeding Danielle for a while back there." She shrugged then. "You know me and how fertile I am."

  "It could be me," he countered.

  "It's not a competition," she replied, giving him a light shove.

  He kissed her once more. "It's totally a competition."

  "Whatever." She sat back, looking at him carefully. "Are you upset?"

  "Do I look upset?"

  "You could be hiding it well."

  He shook his head at that. "No, I'm not upset. It's fine. I am having a vasectomy next week mind, but it's fine. I'm happy; we've got this."

  Charlotte laughed then, reaching over to run her hand through his hair. "Yes, we have."

  "Are you happy about another baby? It'll be different, just us, not having your mother to fall back on. You have the gym now too; a lot has changed since Danielle was born."

  "I know. But I think that after four babies, we'll be right with a fifth. I'm pretty certain both of us have it covered by now." She grinned at him. "Could be a boy."

  Toby raised his eyebrows at that suggestion. "Could be. I did it once; it is possible." He curled his hand around her neck, stroking the skin at the base of her skull before threading his fingers up into her hair. "You didn't answer me though. Are you happy?"

  Charlotte nodded. "I am happy. I hadn't thought about having another baby, once we made that decision, but now that it's happened, yeah, I'm happy. I would always be happy to have another baby with you." And that was the truth of it. Charlotte loved being pregnant; she had never suffered overly much during any of her pregnancies. But what gave her the most satisfaction was that the life inside of her, developing into another child, was a product of them. Their love and commitment to each other. It was a bond like no other.

  Nodding, Toby shifted in his seat, wincing as he moved, his leg still clearly giving him grief.

  "Your leg is still causing you pain?"

  "Don't worry about it," was his reply, which Charlotte now knew as code for, 'yes, but what can you do?' And the answer to that was, not much. She decided the best course of action for taking his mind off the pain was distraction; it worked a treat every time, and given that he had been away for five days, she was not anticipating any hesitation on his part.

  Toby woke at two in the morning, but not from the pain in his leg. Although, now that consciousness had surfaced, so had an awareness of the discomfort that came from overdoing it, wearing the prosthesis in cramped conditions well past the time his own leg had begun it's protest against it. No, what woke him, was the crushing weight of knowledge. Lying beside Charlotte, who was sleeping deeply; he knew where her father was but he did not have the balls to tell her. If he could live with himself, he would like nothing more than to forget he had even seen Royce. But he knew that was not possible. For so many reasons. After lying awake for nearly an hour, Toby eased himself out of the bed, using his crutch to navigate his way out of the bedroom and through to the kitchen. It was so much easier living in a house with no stairs. He could get around in the dark, hobbling along with one crutch wedged under his left arm, no obstacles to contend with, and no extra people to run into. Jenna was a great one for night stalking, wandering around at all hours, wanting to chat if you put so much as a toe into the kitchen, no matter what the hour.

  Jenna was the one giving him the most grief right now. There was no hearts and rainbow daddy for her in this story. She was better off thinking her grandparents had been her parents; far better off. Who would ever be happy to learn that their real father was a murderer; a wife beater before that? Talk about a come down. And she was pregnant too. She really did not need this shit, she had enough to worry about with a baby on the way, less than a month from being born, not to mention having Chad to always watch out for. A bombshell was definitely not what she needed in her life right now.

  Yet, she was his sister.

  And Charlotte's.

  Which was a whole different scenario again.

  Standing at the sink, drinking down a glass of water, Toby pressed his forehead with his fingertips. Every time he thought about any of this, his head would start to ache, further compounding his anxiety over the entire situation.

  Placing the glass quietly into the sink, Toby grabbed the cordless handset and took it with him over to the sliding doors, slipping out to the patio and sinking down into one of the loungers. He hit Jake's number on speed dial, listening to the rings, counting them down, knowing if it got to fifteen…Jake picked up just before it was set to go to the message service.

  "Hey! What's wrong?" he greeted Toby through the phone.

  "Why does something have to be wrong?" Toby replied, grinning even though he knew Jake was unable to see him.

  "It's quarter past three in the morning. Just called me for a chat, did you?"

  "Yeah. I've been away and I missed you. So much," Toby drawled. "The minutes are like hours when you and I are apart."

  "Yeah, yeah. Fuck off. I'm busy. I'm at work."

  "I know that arsehole. I wouldn't have rung you now if I thought you were asleep at home. What took you so long to answer? Long line at McDonalds?"

  "No. I was booking someone. Now I'm heading to McDonalds." Jake laughed down the phone line. "Want me to bring you something around?"

  "No. I hate that shit."

  "I love it. So what's up?"

  "I found Royce."

  There was nothing but silence on the other end of the phone. Toby waited a few moments be
fore checking to see they were still connected. "You there?"

  "Yeah."

  "And?"

  More silence. Along with a growing sense of unease within Toby. When Jake made no reply, he knew, without having to be told. He knew what he should have known all along. Because Royce had not been all that far away, and because Jake was far too good at his job to have missed what was essentially right under his nose. "When did you find him?" Toby asked, an edge creeping into his voice.

  "After your accident. I looked again. I looked harder, thinking you were done for."

  "You speak to him?"

  "No. Just located him."

  "You find out anything about him?"

  There was a long pause, and then, "Some."

  "What?"

  "Basic details. Address, work."

  Toby exhaled with frustration. "Jake, he's gone and-"

  "Toby, don't say anything more. I'm on duty." Jake's voice was firm down the line.

  "Okay. Sure." He left it at that, totally understanding where Jake was coming from. And he only knew the half of it. Anyway, now was not the time to get into it. "I'll let you go get that McDonalds then," Toby said, an attempt at lightening the mood that did nothing more than fall flat.

  "Thanks. But I'm not all that hungry anymore." Jake sighed wearily before speaking again. "You know, sometimes, we need to separate our professional self from our personal self."

  "And sometimes, people just need to stop breaking the fucking law, so that people like us don't need to sit around in the middle of the night talking in code about shit they don't want to know." He hung up then, tossing the phone onto the seat beside him, laying back to close his eyes, the balmy early morning twilight air washing over him, lulling him into a state of near contentment, despite his inner turmoil. He was no closer now to knowing what to do than he had been before talking to Jake. He needed to do some research. Familiarise himself with the crime of bigamy. Get everything straight in his own head before he even considered making his next move.

  The last time Jake had knocked on her front door in uniform, Charlotte's world had tipped on its axis. This time though, it was another police officer standing on the threshold, which unbalanced Charlotte even more. Toby and all of the children were at home with her, which left one other person: her mother. As the panic set in, she listened to the young officer introduce himself politely, explaining that he was here on behalf of Jake.

  "Why? Where is Jake?" The panic shifted. What had happened to Jake? Ellie would be a wreck. Had he been injured in the line of duty? Become one of those statistics they read about and mourned, fallen officers, dying while on the job? Charlotte felt her heart speed up. She needed to get to Ellie. Her parents no longer lived close by; Charlotte was the only person she would have to lean on. Maybe they could try and get her to move in with them for a while. All of these thoughts tumbled through Charlotte's head as she stared at the police officer before her, watching his lips move, yet not really hearing him, until something he said caught her attention.

  "I'm sorry, but what did you just say?" She gripped the door harder, a certain feeling of unreality taking her over. She swayed on her feet and the police officer reached out, taking hold of her elbow to steady her.

  "I'm so sorry. His wife died this morning. He's at the hospital and…I didn't know who else to come and get…he really needs someone close to him right now…" his voice faded away, his distress evident within his tone. "Is Toby here?"

  Charlotte looked up into his face, yet she was no longer seeing it. All she could see was Ellie, holding Danielle, less than twenty four hours ago, talking to her, and breathing in the same air as her, arguing with her, yet still loving her more than any other friend she had ever known. Would you not feel it when somebody so important to you left your life? Would you not know, the very minute it happened? It seemed so wrong, that you could be eating your breakfast and reading the paper while your best friend died and her husband fell apart from the grief. Charlotte pulled herself away from the police officer, backing up into the entry foyer so she could slip down onto the floor, the weight of her own body suddenly far too much for her to hold up. She curled up into herself, burying her face into her hands, hiding from the world, the truth, the emptiness that would surely be a solid part of her from now on. All she could think of as she started to weep, was that Jake, so funny and solid and always such a rock for everyone around him; he was alone now, and for all the pain she was feeling about this for herself, it would be infinitely worse for him, and for that reason alone, she rose to her feet, calling out to Toby.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Head reeling and heart pounding, Toby drove to the hospital with only half a mind to what was going on around him. If anyone had ever been going to die on the job, it surely would have been Jake. As a police officer, he was in the line of danger each and every time he went to work. And how ironic, that Toby himself could survive a massive car crash with multiple injuries, but Ellie only had to be stabbed once, and that was it. All over.

  It was horrific.

  Running across the car park, Toby entered the hospital, taking in the immediate chaos, patients waiting to be seen mixed in with police, an investigation of the crime scene already underway. Toby approached one of the police officers he knew well.

  "Hey, Dart." His greeting was sombre. "You know where I can find Jake?"

  "Hey, Toby, glad to see you here." Dart clapped Toby on the shoulder, shaking his head sadly. "Terrible day. Jake is with her."

  Toby looked at him for a beat, confused. "What?"

  "He won't leave her."

  Oh. Of course. Shit. "What actually happened?"

  "A total fuck up, that's what. Drug fuck stumbles into emergency, he jumps her demanding meds, and before security's gotten wind of anything, he's stabbed her clean through her side and taken off. Bad timing and bad luck, I don't know, but the end is all the same. She's gone. Didn't even make it into surgery." Dart looked away, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

  Toby swallowed deeply, overcome by a grief he had never imagined feeling for Ellie, who in all honesty, was a woman he had never really liked all that much. But still, she was his best friend's wife, as well as Charlotte's best friend, and both of those connections counted for something. This was terrible. Poor Jake. He needed to find him and get him home to Charlotte, where he could grieve in private, with people who loved him around for support, if and when he needed them.

  "So, where is he?" Toby asked once again, impatient now to get out of this chaotic area.

  "Back here." Dart gestured for Toby to follow him. He led the way down the corridor, stopping at the door of a room that had another officer and a small handful of nurses clustered around it, all of which were sniffling and red eyed as they mourned their co-worker openly. "He's in there." Dart flicked his head toward the closed door.

  Toby nodded in reply, placing his hand onto the handle, gripping it tightly; he paused before turning it, inhaling deeply as he contemplated what he was about to find on the other side. Eyes closed, he turned the handle, stepping into the room and only opening them again once he was inside with the door shut firmly behind him. Jake was sitting motionless beside the bed, his gazed fixed on the pale figure lying before him, covered from the shoulders down by a sheet, clean thank goodness; Toby was almost certain he could not have entered the room any further if her blood had been visible. Jake did not turn around, even though Toby was sure he would have heard him enter. Waiting, he shifted his gaze between Jake and Ellie, back and forth, the lump in his throat lodging deeper. How in the hell was he supposed to get Jake to leave her? Would he leave, if it were Charlotte? Toby groaned inwardly, torn; he really needed to get home to Charlotte. She was beside herself with grief and had all of the kids with her as he had been unable to get Iris on the phone to see if she could come over and help them out.

  "Did they tell you what happened?" Jake did not turn around as he asked. His voice sounded hollow, echoing, a distant version of his usua
l vibrant tone.

  Approaching the chair Jake was sitting in, the only one in the room, Toby came to a stop beside it, his gaze coming to rest on Ellie, now able to take in the pallor of her up close. What struck him the most were her lips; completely colourless now. Ellie was the type of girl who had always had that golden glow about her, blond hair, tanned skin, freckles, and rosy lips. Now, she looked entirely washed out, her hair appearing so much darker against her pale skin. Looking away from her, he tried to find something else to focus on, not wanting to remember her this way. He was so glad now in hindsight that Iris had not picked up the phone, otherwise Charlotte may have insisted on coming here with him. She did not need to see this. Hell, Jake did not need to see this.

  "Dart explained."

  "The fucker got away."

  "Not for long," Toby replied. "They have him on the security feed. He'll surface and get picked up." They always did, hopping from one crime to another until it all caught up with them. Toby had seen it enough times to read the type.

  "You think?" Jake pulled his gaze from Ellie, turning it onto Toby who was at once shocked by the expression on his friend's face.

  "I'm so sorry, Jake," Toby said. The pain evident within Jake's eyes was so tangible he could almost feel it. "This is so fucking wrong."

  Jake frowned at that, saying nothing, yet Toby could see his throat swallowing furiously, as though he were fighting off the urge to cry. Toby waited him out, crossing the room to the window, giving Jake his back, offering privacy alongside a reprieve to himself from the sight of Ellie.

  "We only had each other." Jake's voice came to him, broken. "Now I have nothing."

  Toby pressed his forehead to the glass, closing his eyes once again. Charlotte would be able to handle this so much better than him. There was nothing whatsoever he could think of to say to Jake in this moment. Nothing he could offer, nothing he thought would be good enough. The guy's wife had been murdered. It did not get much worse than that; and who the hell was he anyway to think he had the right to try and make this better? Better was impossible.