by Jae
Dawn closed the door of the van. "I'm sorry about Cal trying to back you into a corner when he first arrived."
"Hey, it's all right. I think we've come to an understanding." Aiden studied the tired face. "I just didn't know you'd been married."
Dawn shrugged. "Not for very long. It just didn't work out between us. We got a divorce after less than two years."
"Yeah, old story. We cops don't make the best spouses, being married to our jobs and all." It was one of many reasons why Aiden wasn't in or searching for a relationship.
"That may have been part of our problems, but mainly, it wasn't him, it was me. I..." Dawn sighed, kicking against the heap of dismantled bed parts they had stacked on the sidewalk. "He was an old friend of Brian, my brother. I'd known him for years, but there was never anything but friendship between us. Then Brian died, not long after my father's death and... I thought I had come to love him, but I guess I just needed someone to hold on to. Should have known myself better than that."
"You know now," Aiden said gently.
Dawn snorted. Suddenly, there were tears in her eyes. "A little late for that insight. I'm not exactly good relationship material right now." She looked down at the bed lying in ruins at her feet. The bed she had been raped in. Raped. Silent sobs shook Dawn.
Aiden had known that it would come to this at some point. Dawn had thrown herself into taking care of the practical things, making calls, looking at apartments, trying to resume a somewhat normal life. She had kept herself too busy to think about what had happened. She had tried to be strong, holding herself up to higher standards than her patients whom she told that they were allowed to cry, scream, and mourn.
Now that the moving out of and into apartments had almost been completed and there was nothing else to do, everything caught up with her, and she was falling into a black hole.
Aiden watched uncomfortably as the dam broke and tears began to fall. She wished Dawn's psychologist friends or her mother were here, but they weren't. It's up to you to comfort her or just stand there like some dumb cop and let her cry her eyes out, just because you have to be a professional.
When she saw Dawn's shaky attempts to hastily dry her tears or hide them behind her sleeve, she finally stepped forward. Hesitantly, her arms came up and wrapped Dawn into a gentle embrace.
Hot breath danced across the skin of her neck when Dawn let out a shaky breath, immediately accepting the embrace and burrowing herself deeper into Aiden's arms. "I'm sorry," she said after a minute. "It's just that I feel like he took everything from me... destroyed my whole life, left no part of it unsullied."
Aiden let her talk it out, not offering advice or asking any questions. In her job, she had learned when to talk and when to listen. She kept one supporting arm around Dawn's trembling shoulders when Dawn took a step back.
"I can't look at any male stranger without wondering whether he's a rapist or even the one who raped me. My family and friends can't look at me without pity or sadness. I even lost some friends who told me to 'hush up' the rape and 'just get over it.'"
"What kind of friends are those?" Aiden shook her head.
"Not really close ones, but it hurt nonetheless," Dawn answered. "I don't need other people to make me feel guilty or doubt myself. I do that well enough on my own. He took my self-confidence, my trust in people, my friends, and my job. I don't know if I can ever work with victims of sexual assault again. I have to pay attention to them and not to my own feelings. What if I keep having those flashbacks when one of them tells me about her rape?" Dawn shook her head in desperation.
"Hey, don't stress yourself out." Aiden caressed a thin shoulder blade. "You'll cross that bridge when you come to it. It's too soon to be thinking about going back to work. Even if you can never work with rape victims again – and we don't know that yet – I'm sure there are a lot of people out there who need your help. I bet you'd be good with children, family therapy, maybe."
Dawn looked up, blinking back tears with long, blond lashes. "Have you ever considered a change of careers for yourself? You should be a therapist." A small smile trembled on her lips.
Aiden felt herself blush. Her ears started to burn under Dawn's grateful gaze. "I'm quite happy with the job I have, thank you very much."
"I'm quite happy that you have this job, too," Dawn said softly.
Aiden bit her lip, unable to come up with an appropriate response.
"Come on." It was Dawn who finally broke the awkward silence. "Let's hurry up before the others start gorging themselves on pizza or Chinese takeout without us."
* * *
"Hello, Detective." Once again, it was Grace Kinsley who answered the door and walked her into Dawn's new apartment. "You're the last one in. All the other helpers are already waiting impatiently for you... or rather for the entrée Dawn refused to serve before your arrival."
"Sorry." Aiden took off her jacket and hung it on the coatrack she had assembled yesterday. "Ray, my partner, kept pushing unfinished reports onto my desk."
"Yeah, the dangers of being a desk jockey," Caleb Montgomery said from his place at the dining table.
Aiden stopped directly in front of him. "Do I sense some deep-rooted jealousy, here? We can't all be detectives, pal," she repeated his words from the day before. From time to time, she could sense a jealous hostility toward her, but she wasn't sure whether it was because of their different positions within the Portland Police Bureau or because he suspected her sometimes more than friendly feelings toward his ex-wife.
Not waiting for an answer, Aiden rounded the table and greeted the other guests.
"Dawn's still slaving over the stove," Grace Kinsley said when Aiden directed a questioning gaze toward her.
Being familiar with the layout of the apartment, Aiden went in search of their hostess. "Hi," she greeted her from the doorway, careful not to startle her. "Thanks again for the invitation. It smells really nice in here. Anything I can help with?"
"Hi." Dawn's smile lit up the kitchen. She appeared to be a lot better than she had been the day before. "I still haven't found the serving tray," she answered Aiden's offer to help.
"Ah." Aiden entered the small but functional kitchen. "I think we put it somewhere on the highest shelf." A quick glance told her that Dawn wouldn't be able to reach it, so Aiden stretched her body and reached over Dawn for the serving tray. For a second, she breathed in the scent of honey and almonds from Dawn's hair when their bodies came into close proximity, then she hastily stepped back and handed Dawn the tray. "Voílà."
Dawn smiled. "Thank you, Detective."
Aiden was glad that Dawn accepted her boundaries without question, never once trying to call Aiden by her given name. I'm not even sure she knows my first name. Speaking of names... "I just noticed the name of the street you're living on now when I was searching for a parking space."
"Great name, huh?" Dawn grinned.
Aiden shook her head. "I've lived here in Portland for my whole life, but I never knew there's a Carlisle Street."
"Maybe it was named after one of your great ancestors; maybe they rendered outstanding services to the city, too," Dawn suggested.
Aiden looked at her in amazement. She knows one of my closest ancestors is a man of violence, a rapist, and yet she doesn't seem to think anything but good things about me or my family? Wish I could share her attitude. She helped Dawn carry salad, bread, and spinach soufflé to the table where she noticed that the only unoccupied seat was right beside Dawn's.
She sat down and looked about the spacey living room. The setting sun was filtering in through orange curtains, giving the room a soothing quality. Where only one day ago just the bare furniture had stood, Aiden could already detect clear signs of the Dawn Kinsley decorative style. All around her were small trinkets, stuffed animals, colorful drawings, and photos – memories of people and events Dawn obviously held dear. It felt like a home, not just an apartment.
"Help yourself." Dawn gestured toward the soufflé. "Like I sa
id, we're not very big on formality."
Aiden pointed to the place next to her plate. "But you do have napkins."
Dawn inclined her head and smiled. "My one concession to a house full of guests."
Aiden waited until the others had filled their plates and then took her first bite. She loved leaf spinach but with her limited cooking talents had never tried a spinach soufflé. Her eyes widened, and she licked her lips. She held back a joking "Marry me!" and said "It's really delicious" instead.
"Have a little white wine with it," Grace offered, extending the wine bottle in Aiden's direction.
With a glance at the clear, sparkling liquid in Dawn's glass, Aiden shook her head. "Mineral water's fine, thank you."
Dawn set down her fork. "You're not on call, are you?"
"No, I'm not," Aiden said. She would have liked a glass of wine but preferred red wine anyway, and she was determined to avoid any alcohol as long as Dawn still couldn't stand the smell of it. "And even if I was, I'm not sure I could leave while there is still food on the table. It's not often that I get to eat like this. I'm not much of a cook, myself."
"Doughnuts don't need any cooking," a grinning Allison Barry pointed out.
Caleb set down his beer. "Hey, no doughnut cop jokes, please. Us law enforcement personnel are very sensitive when it comes to our main food group."
Not bothering to ask in the relaxed, informal atmosphere, Aiden helped herself to a second helping of the soufflé. "Actually, I can't stand the stuff."
Grace poked her in the shoulder with the blunt end of her fork. "I'm sure you didn't admit that in your entrance interview with the Police Academy."
"Dad didn't like doughnuts, either," Dawn reminded with an affectionate smile. "He always said that white-powdered doughnuts and blue uniform shirts are not a good combination."
Aiden wanted to know more about her father and what had happened to him, but she didn't want to introduce a sad topic into an otherwise relaxed evening.
"He died in a traffic stop ten years ago," Dawn said, sensing the unasked question. "He stopped a car because of a busted headlight, and the driver, a man with an active warrant out on him, panicked and pulled the trigger."
"I'm sorry," Aiden said sincerely and looked from Dawn to her mother.
Grace gave her a pat on the arm. "It's an honorable but dangerous profession. I knew that when I married Jim. I just never thought I'd lose one of my kids to it too."
Aiden looked down at the table, suddenly almost feeling guilty just because she was a police officer.
Dawn cleared her throat and lifted her glass of mineral water. "To Portland's finest. May they all be safe tonight."
The toast was echoed all around the table.
That woman's really got style, Aiden thought, sipping from her water glass. When she first met Dawn, she had admired her good looks and then – when she had started to interact with the visitors of her seminar – her charm and her easy way of relating to people. Now that she had experienced Dawn in many different situations, she found that she wasn't just attracted to Dawn as a woman, but she really started liking her as a person.
She spent her first relaxed evening in what seemed like forever in the company of Dawn Kinsley and her friends. She was pleasantly surprised by the three psychologists, who were not at all as she had imagined psychologists to be. Not once did she have the feeling of being under constant scrutiny, the object of appraisal and analysis. Their job is hard enough. Why would they want to do it in their free time, too? Aiden reminded herself.
Finally, every last bite of the meal had been eaten, and the dishes had been done. One after the other, the guests said goodnight and left. When only Dawn and her mother remained, Aiden stood, too, and reached for her jacket. "Thank you for a very nice evening and a wonderful meal. I haven't eaten so well since my partner had to take me to a five-star restaurant on a lost bet."
"Has the Portland Police Bureau added another zero to those generous cop pay checks? My husband's and son's bets never consisted of more than who would spring for a hot dog and a coffee to go," Grace said.
Aiden laughed. "No sudden enlightenment on part of the PPB, I'm afraid. We usually bet for hot dogs, too, but this one was a bet we both were really confident to win."
"Do I even want to know?" Grace chuckled.
"No, you don't. I have a certain image to uphold, ma'am," Aiden declared with a dignified expression. She slipped on her jacket and turned to go.
"Detective?" Dawn's voice made her turn around again. "Could you maybe stay for a few minutes longer? I'd really like to talk to you about something."
Aiden nodded and swallowed, almost afraid of what Dawn might want to talk about. She slipped her jacket back off while Mrs. Kinsley hugged and kissed her daughter goodnight. Watching the warm interaction between mother and daughter always left Aiden with a vague feeling of longing.
"Let's try out the new couch," Dawn suggested after her mother had left. She had given away her old couch, not wanting to be reminded of the devastation she had felt sitting on that couch just after the rape.
Dawn brought coffee and tea, and they sat down on the comfortable new couch. Aiden watched as Dawn put one socked foot onto the coffee table while the other rested on the couch, both arms wrapped around her knee.
Dawn's cat, which they hadn't seen all evening, strolled into the living room and sniffed on every chair leg that had come into contact with one of the strangers invading her territory. The cat stopped in front of the couch. The slanted pupils of the amazingly sapphire eyes widened when she spotted Aiden. Promptly, the cat sat down and ignored the humans. She licked her bushy tail and used her paw to wash behind chocolate-tipped ears. When she looked up after a minute and the stranger still sat on the couch, she let out a complaining "Meow!"
Aiden looked down at the cat, feeling decidedly unwelcome. "Am I sitting in her favorite spot?"
"She's a cat, every spot in the whole apartment is hers, and the one place that she can't have because it's occupied just now is always her favorite," Dawn explained.
"Cat psychology, huh?" Aiden shifted to the side when the cat hopped up onto the couch between them and eased her body into a sphinxlike position. Feeling reassured by Dawn's expert supervision, Aiden reached out a single finger and scratched the cat behind one ear. "What kind of cat is she?" she asked, reasonably sure that there were different breeds of cats.
Dawn rubbed the cat's belly, making her purr and lie down more fully. "Kia's a Balinese; that's a long-haired version of the Siamese. Remember when you said you didn't want to marry her? What changed your mind?"
"Huh?"
"You told me you didn't want to marry my cat when you had to put her into a transport box, but yesterday you were the one who carried Kia over the threshold. Guess you're a closeted romantic, huh, Detective?" Dawn teased.
Aiden laughed and leaned back against the soft cushions, sipping her coffee. This is nice. She usually spent her days in the company of men and had few, if any, close female friends.
Even her one-night stands and the partners in her usually short-lived relationships were mostly men although she was more attracted to women. Men were safer because there weren't so many emotions involved for Aiden. Men didn't expect her to give them insight into her heart and soul. They didn't want to hear her life's story on the first date and meet her parents by the end of the first month. With women, Aiden was afraid to feel too much, to lose control, to be consumed by her fears and desires. She was convinced that it would be just a matter of time before she would hurt a female partner. It was her inheritance; it was in her genes. So she rarely allowed herself more than a one-night stand with a woman, always hiding behind affairs with men or secret attractions that couldn't go anywhere because the object of her admiration was straight, unavailable, or totally unaware of Aiden's feelings – or all three, to make sure nothing of any significance could ever happen between them.
She had put Dawn firmly into the straight/unavailable/unaware categor
y. Most of the time, she didn't even think about sharing anything more with Dawn and was content with just being friendly acquaintances. Sometimes she even thought that it was only Dawn's unavailability that made her so attractive for Aiden. If Dawn hadn't been raped, if she had been gay and interested in a relationship with her, Aiden was sure that she would have run the other way as fast as she could.
"So," Aiden interrupted her own, dangerously introspective thoughts, "what did you want to talk about?"
Dawn moved the cat into her lap and turned around to face Aiden. "Well, now that I moved into a new apartment and live all alone again, I want to do everything I can to make myself feel a little safer."