ONE SMALL VICTORY

by Maryann Miller

  As Alicia complied, Jenny tried not to let her amazement show. “That was very thoughtful. Thanks.”

  Ralph shrugged. “The cabin’s too small to sling a bunch of junk around. We worked on being neat while we were there.”

  Jenny remembered the ice-cream she’d left in the kitchen and pictured a mess dribbling off the counter. “I’ll be right back.”

  After stowing the ice-cream back in the freezer, Jenny returned to the living room as Scott and Ralph were saying an awkward goodbye. Then Ralph picked up Alicia and hugged her tight. “I’ll call soon.”

  “Okay, Daddy.”

  Ralph put the girl down and turned toward the front door.

  “I’ll walk you to your car,” Jenny said.

  Ralph opened the door and they stepped out. Then he waved one more time to the kids before starting down the front steps. He paused at the bottom and looked up at her. “Is it too late?”

  “For what?”

  “To try. With Scott and Alicia?”

  The shock was so great, Jenny was afraid her knees would buckle. She grabbed the banister on the porch.

  “I know I wasn’t...” Ralph’s voice faded as if he couldn’t put words to his failings.

  If that’s what he meant. Or am I—

  “Losing Michael...” Again he faltered.

  Conflicting emotions threatened to tear her in half. Anger that he still had so much trouble saying anything significant, and anger at her impulse to help him out. That’s the way it had always been. But she could also feel his pain...and something else. Almost a desperation that underscored his words. Maybe she should lead with her heart on this one. Do it for the kids.

  “Scott and Alicia would love to have you in their lives.”

  He turned away quickly, fumbling for his keys. “I’ll call. Make arrangements.”

  Was she mistaken, or was that the sound of a sob she heard as he opened the door?

  He got in the car, brought it to life, then pulled away without looking back.

  If that wasn’t the surprise of all time. Motionless, she watched the taillights fade into the darkness. The shock was still so strong, she wasn’t even sure how she felt. She should be happy for the kids. But what if it was just another empty promise?

  That thought stirred the embers of her anger, and she realized that she was furious that it had taken this long, taken losing their son to bring Ralph to this epiphany.

  And she still wasn’t sure she could trust him.

  But the alternative – refusing to let him - wasn’t such a good thing for a lot of reasons. Mostly for the sake of the kids. They deserved to know and love a father.

  ~*~

  Jenny and Scott were in the kitchen. They’d finally gotten around to the ice-cream, which luckily was more than enough for three small bowls, and Alicia had just finished hers and gone to brush her teeth.

  Scott stirred his spoon around his empty bowl. “Dad seemed kind of... I don’t know. Different.”

  Before Jenny had a chance to respond, the doorbell pealed. She checked the clock on the wall. Almost nine-thirty. A little late for company.

  “Want me to get it?” Scott asked.

  “No.” Jenny stood and pushed her chair back.

  She walked into the dim interior of the living room and turned a lamp on before going to the front door. She opened it to see Steve standing just at the edge of the illumination. He wore a Dallas Cowboys jacket and had his hands thrust deep in the pockets of his jeans. The jeans had a very nice crease down the front of both legs.

  He glanced away, then back and she wondered what had brought him here.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  “No, I—”

  “Who is that?” Jenny hadn’t realized that Scott had followed until he spoke. She shot him a quick glance, then looked back at Steve, hoping he could read the question in her eyes. He nodded.

  “This is Steve Morrity.” She faced Scott. “He’s one of the officers I worked with.”

  Then she turned to Steve. “This is my son, Scott.”

  Steve reached around her and shook the boy’s hand. “Can I borrow your mom for a minute?”

  “Has something happened?” Jenny asked.

  “No. This isn’t official.”

  That means it’s personal. She allowed a brief flight of fantasy involving knights and steeds and wondrous places like Camelot to play in her mind. Then she centered herself on reality. A reality that included a son and daughter who were sick of her being gone all the time. Not to mention the distinct possibility that a relationship with Steve simply wouldn’t work.

  “It’s late.”

  “Of course. I should’ve thought.” Steve took a step back. “Just thought we could talk for a bit.”

  Do I dare?

  If you don’t you’ll never know.

  “I’ll just be a minute.” Jenny stepped back into the house and grabbed the jacket she’d dropped on the back of the couch. When she walked past Scott, she caught a hint of a smile on his face. “What?” she said.

  “Nothing.” He followed her to the door. “You’re gonna owe me big time for this.”

  Jenny went down the steps and joined Steve on the front walk. He motioned toward Scott who was closing the door. “Is he upset?”

  “No. He’s actually being pretty cool about it all.”

  Following her down the sidewalk, Steve mentally scrambled for a conversation opener. “Nice night.”

  “A little cool.” Jenny tucked her hands into the sleeves of her jacket.

  “You want to go back?”

  “No. I’m fine.” She stopped walking and leaned against the trunk of a towering Oak. “But if you’d just get to the point, we can both go in and get warm.”

  “I was hoping, maybe...” Steve pushed at an acorn with the toe of his brown leather boot, then glanced at her quickly. “Was I reading the signals right?”

  He looked so much like an awkward teenage boy, Jenny had to stifle the urge to laugh. “What signals are you referring to?”

  “Uh, at the club. When we were dancing. And afterward. I felt...”

  “Yes?”

  He chuckled. “You’re enjoying the hell out of this, aren’t you?”

  She felt a twinge of chagrin. “Don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’ve had Scott on a string all day.”

  Steve took her hand and pulled her away from the tree. “It’s been pretty close to a circus at the station, too. But that’s pretty common after a big case breaks. That incredible relief that it’s over and we’re all safe makes us a little crazy.”

  They walked for a few minutes with only the distant sound of traffic on the highway filling the silence. Then Steve cleared his throat. “I still don’t know where all the professional lines are drawn and how permanent they are. But certainly until after the trial. Which I sincerely hope will be plenty damn soon. So maybe we’ll have to wait. But I was hoping we could see each other.”

  Jenny stood for a moment in awe at the length of his statement. Several sentences all strung together. Almost a full paragraph. Other than that day at Conamara, this was the most he had spoken at one time since she’d met him.

  Part of her wanted to respond to the charm of the moment. He was as nervous as a teenager a month before prom, and that was incredibly endearing. Another part of her was afraid to let go of her reserve. They were both damaged goods, and it would take a lot of work to make them whole again. Was she up to it? Was he? Could they both let go of the past enough to do that?

  “I don’t think I’m going to like an answer it’s taking this long to come up with.”

  As the moon broke out of some cloud cover, Jenny watched the light play across the planes of his face. He looked worried.

  Reaching up, she touched the tight line next to his mouth. “It’s too soon for answers. My life is an emotional wreck, and I wouldn’t want you to become one of the casualties.”

  “I see.”

  He quickly turned his face away.
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  “Awfully quick to cave in, aren’t you?”

  He swung back around and she smiled. “As they say in some self-help programs, could we take it one day at a time?”

  He looked at her for a long moment, then matched her smile. “We could do that.”

  “Good.” She took his arm and turned back toward her house. “Let’s start with relieving any fears Scott may have about you dragging me off on some new undercover operation.”

  EPILOGUE

  A full moon slanted silver rays through the branches of bare trees, and Jenny felt like she was being led by some beacon. This was one night that Scott hadn’t objected to her going out. In fact, he’d almost pushed her out the door. What a relief the past few days had been. With the exception of that one big hole in their home, things had been as close to normal as she could remember.

  It was also a relief to be out minus the skimpy clothes and miles of chains. Why did so many druggies wear chains when they were so friggin’ cold?

  She parked on the side street and walked toward Main. She didn’t want to drive these streets. She wanted to stroll and savor the fact that the dealers were gone. Maybe more would take their place eventually. At least that’s what Burroughs had said. The big-city gangs would try to come back and set up business again. But for now people could go to the Dairy Queen and simply enjoy an ice-cream without worrying about what was going on in the parking lot.

  After getting a chocolate cone, Jenny wandered down several streets without a purpose in mind and was surprised when she realized she was next to the cemetery. The ice-cream soured in her stomach and she threw the rest of the cone into the bushes. Some critter might enjoy the treat.

  Then she entered the cemetery. The wind was stronger here, and she had to pull her coat tight against the chill.

  Following a path that she would remember the rest of her life, Jenny wound her way through the narrow lanes until she came to the spot where Michael was buried. The mound of earth was still raw and bare, and she played the beam of the flashlight across the headstone. Michael Jasik BELOVED SON. Her tears blurred the dates and she looked away quickly.

  Just go. What are you doing here anyway?

  She swiped at the wetness on her cheeks and faced the rounded hump of dirt. “I killed a man the other night.”

  She waited, feeling foolish for the pause. Did you expect a response? Some heavenly word of absolution? She slumped to her knees on a patch of winter grass at the edge of the grave. Dampness seeped through her jeans, but she didn’t have the strength to stand up again.

  “Next to losing you, it was the worst thing that ever happened in my life.”

  Feeling a tightness grip her stomach, she listened to the wind soughing through the trees, like some distant lullaby that was somehow soothing. “I didn’t tell Scott. Or Alicia. I don’t know if I ever will.”

  She fingered the coarse, brown turf. “And I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. Hell, I don’t even know if you can hear me.

  “Why is it that people come to gravesides and talk?” She sat back on her heels and looked around. “Do spirits hang around waiting for loved ones to come?”

  She returned her gaze to the grave. “Or is everything that was you gone from this earth?”

  A new flood of tears choked her for a moment and she took a deep, heaving breath. Somewhere close a cricket chirped and from further away came the baying of a hound. Normal, everyday sounds in a moment that was anything but normal.

  Leaning forward, she picked up a handful of the loose dirt, drawing the pungent aroma deep. She liked the rich, earthy smell of loam. Always had. “I wonder what it’s like. Heaven.” She let the soil drizzle slowly through her fingers. “Probably not like it’s usually depicted.”

  A fluttering in a nearby tree sent a jolt of panic through her, and she turned to see an owl lift off from a drooping branch. “Was it something I said?”

  She laughed, then. Not something she ever thought she’d do at Michael’s grave. But the act seem to free something up in her and allow her to say what she’d come here for. “I don’t know if that man is up there with you. If the preachers are right, he went straight to hell. Which is probably where he deserves to be. But maybe...”

  A sense of absurdity almost drove her out of there.

  What in the hell are you trying to prove?

  I don’t know. I just...

  In a desperate effort to center herself, she touched the hard, cold granite of Michael’s headstone. “If he’s there. If you see him. Could you...Could you tell him I’m sorry? I just didn’t want to die.”

  THE END

  Table of Contents

  ONE SMALL VICTORY