by Anne Patrick
"You think maybe you're just scared, like you were with Coop after he started talking marriage?"
"That might have something to do with it."
"I know David hurt you pretty bad, Gwen. What was it, two years before you even went out with another man?"
"Something like that."
"Well I'm guessing this guy, Ian, means a lot to you or you wouldn't be here talking about him. You aren't exactly an open book. I don't mean that in a bad way. You're just a very private person."
"You're right on both counts. Ian and I seem to have a lot in common. We've both suffered great loss in our lives. In a lot of ways we're like kindred spirits. Apart from all that, I really like spending time with him."
"Sounds to me like you already know what you want to do, Gwen. Just follow your heart. Like Mom always said, you have nothing to fear but fear itself."
She smiled at him. "You remind me so much of her sometimes."
"Is that why you've been such a stranger this last year?"
"Yes, and I'm sorry about that." She reached over her shoulder and held his hand. "You know I love you and Kara. I wouldn't purposely hurt either of you, but it's just been real hard getting over their deaths. I know that sounds selfish, because you're hurting, too."
"You don't need to apologize, Gwen. I had a feeling that's why you were avoiding us. And I understand. I wish you could have the sense of peace that I do with their deaths. I miss them, don't get me wrong, but I find comfort in the knowledge that someday we'll all be together again."
"I wish I could believe that, Tony. I really do."
"You will someday. I'm sure of it."
A truck pulled into the driveway. Stuart got out, carrying several plastic bags. He came onto the porch, seemingly oblivious to Gwen's presence.
"You have a visitor, Stuart."
He glanced over and grinned. "Detective Jamison. Are you checking up on me?"
"I just wanted to see how you're doing, Stuart. And I have a favor to ask."
"You got it. I can't thank you enough for sending me here. Tony and Kara are the best."
"I agree." She stood up from the swing. "Let me help you with those."
Tony followed them inside. "I'll start dinner while you guys talk. You can use my office."
"Thanks, Tony." Gwen grabbed them a couple of sodas from the fridge and she and Stuart went into the office. "Have a seat, Stuart."
"I suddenly feel like I'm back in your interrogation room." He popped the tab on his Coke.
"Sorry." She looked at him over her shoulder. "Please."
"That's better." With a grin, he sat in one of the chairs.
"Now I know you weren't on the streets long, but I'm hoping you might've seen this girl around." Gwen removed the sketch from her back pocket. "She would've been wearing a white scarf."
He studied the composite for several seconds then handed it back. "Never seen her before. Sorry."
"Look at it again, Stuart. Think hard." She dropped it in his lap." It's real important that I find her."
"What'd she do?"
"Strong-armed robbery." Gwen leaned on the edge of Tony's desk. "She's also a material witness in my liquor store robberies."
"The ones you brought me in on?"
"Yes. So you see, you helping me will be beneficial to yourself. You'll no longer be a suspect."
"I didn't realize I still was."
"Not currently but that could change. You never know." She took a sip of her diet soda.
"Blackmail. Come on, Detective. I know you're not as mean as you like everyone to think you are. Tony's told me a lot about you while I've been here."
"Forget what Tony said and just look at the sketch," Gwen pleaded. She had to find this girl.
"I'm telling you, I've never seen her before."
"Okay. Well would you be willing to talk to some of the people you met while you were on the street? Show them the sketch and get me a lead on her?"
"That I will do. I have to warn you, though; you aren't going to have much luck getting someone to turn her in. These people stick together. Watch out for each other. Most of them do anyway."
He wasn't telling her anything she didn't already know. It was that street camaraderie that helped her survive when she had nowhere to go. "Just do what you can. I would really appreciate it."
"Sure." Stuart glanced at the sketch once more before folding it and stuffing it into his jeans pocket. "So…" he said with a glint in his eye, "Tony tells me you were quite a scrapper even as a teenager. Nearly broke his nose once. I wasn't really all that surprised judging from the way you tackled me in that alley."
Tony knocked on the door. "Dinner is almost ready, guys. Wrap it up."
Gwen walked to the door and Stuart grabbed her arm. "I want to thank you properly for what you did for me, Detective." He offered his hand. "You helped me keep my job and gave me a roof over my head. I won't forget that."
"You're welcome, Stuart." She shook his hand. "And you can call me Gwen."
After helping to devour two pepperoni pizzas, Gwen told the guys she needed to head home so she could prepare for court tomorrow.
Tony walked her to the door. "I'm glad you stayed for dinner, Gwen."
"Me too. You still make the best homemade pizzas around."
He followed her out onto the porch. "Hey, Gwen. About what we were talking about earlier, you said you both had suffered losses in your lives. Does that mean you've told him about your childhood?"
"No. You know I don't like to talk about that."
"I do, but sometimes in order for a wound to heal, you have to remove the Band-Aid. Did you ever tell David or Coop?"
Gwen shook her head. She had come close to telling Coop a couple of times but had lost her nerve. It wasn't that she was ashamed of her past. None of it was her fault. It was out of her control. Gwen had fought hard, though, to overcome those obstacles and she didn't want anyone to ever see her that vulnerable again.
"You can't really get to know someone if that person is hiding a large part of who they are."
"Tony, I can't change who I am anymore than I can change my past. Why dredge up stuff that's long buried?"
"Because it's not buried. If it were, you'd be able to talk about it. All I'm suggesting is when you find the right person with whom you want to share your life, let him get to know you. All of you. It might help him to better understand why you are so darn difficult sometimes."
She grinned.
He slid his arm around her shoulder. "Believe it or not, Gwen, talking can be very therapeutic. The more you do it, the easier it gets."
"I appreciate the pep talk. I feel so much better."
"You're a smart-aleck."
Gwen hugged him. "Thanks, Tony. You're the best big brother a girl could have."
"Any time, kid."
CHAPTER TWELVE
Friday night at exactly eleven-thirty, Teddy unlocked the alley entrance to Boulevard Liquors. While the owner gave Nick a refresher course on running the register, Gwen stayed hidden behind the slightly open door leading out into the store. From where she stood, she had a clear view of the front door and counter.
"You guys hear me okay?" Gwen spoke into the mike connected to her earpiece.
"Loud and clear," Kris responded.
A few minutes passed and Teddy joined her. "I sure hope he doesn't screw up my register."
"He won't, Teddy. Nick isn't as stupid as he looks."
"I heard that," Nick growled in her ear.
"All right. I'll see you at two." Teddy walked to the alley entrance.
"Two-ten," Gwen reminded. The robber had hit in the past before closing but she didn't want to chance him showing up while Teddy was here.
"Right. Good luck." He closed the door behind him and Gwen locked it.
The bell jingled and Gwen hurried back to her spot. Peering through the opening, she saw an older gentleman walk to the first shelf and pick up a bottle of scotch. He paid for his purchase then left. Several minu
tes later, a young couple entered. They separated then rejoined at the register moments later. She put two four-packs of wine coolers on the counter next to his twelve pack of beer. Nick rang them up, sacked the coolers, and wished them a good night.
"I didn't hear you ask for ID's," Gwen commented into her mike.
Nick came back immediately. "You need glasses, Jamison. Mid to late twenties easily."
"Better check next time. We don't wanna get Teddy in trouble."
"Do you wanna do this?"
"Yes, please."
"Jamison, you step one foot out of that back room and you'll spend the rest of the night in the car with Todd," Ian warned.
Nick snickered.
Gwen hadn't counted on Ian listening in, which meant he was nearby. "Hey, Lieutenant, nice of you to join us. I was just kidding."
"Sure you were."
Gwen thought of the envelope she'd left on Ian's desk during her lunch break today. It contained her U2 tickets and a short note telling Ian to take his son. She had purchased them several months ago and had planned to take Coop. The plan then changed to taking Kris for her birthday. Thankfully, Gwen hadn't mentioned it to her yet. The tickets had cost her a half months pay, but if they helped in ending the estrangement between Ian and his son, it would be worth it. Her visit with Tony reminded her how important friends and family really were.
For the next two hours, Gwen stood readied behind the door. But the robber never showed. Had he been watching the place during the week and knew what they had planned for him?
The lock on the backdoor turned and Gwen swung around, her hand steady at her side.
"Easy, Detective. It's just me." Teddy smiled at her. "I take it your man never showed."
"No, sir." She relaxed her hand. "Come on back, Nick."
They hung around until Teddy locked up and made plans to do it again the following night.
*****
Gwen entered her apartment disappointed and exhausted. She dropped her keys on the table in the entranceway and went into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water. Her cellphone rang, startling her. With a glance at the clock, she saw it was a quarter till three.
"It's Ian. You weren't in bed yet, were you?"
"I just walked in the door. Where are you?"
"Sitting in my driveway."
"Is everything okay?" Gwen moved into the living room.
"Yeah. I just wanted to tell you good night and that you did a good job."
"We didn't do anything. I bet he knows we were there."
"I doubt that. I was monitoring the scanner, too. He didn't hit any of the other stores."
Gwen shoved the phone between her ear and shoulder and twisted off the lid of her water then took a drink. "Tell me something, were you there tonight because of me?"
"Does that make you uncomfortable?"
"You're avoiding my question."
"Yes, I am." He chuckled. "Well, unfortunately, I won't be able to make it tomorrow night."
"Hot date?"
"No. You're the only woman I've been able to think about since I met you."
Gwen smiled at his words.
"Now, you're uncomfortable," he teased.
"You know you're making it extremely hard to just be friends."
"Maybe that's because I would like something more than friendship."
She sank onto the sofa, kicked off her shoes and planted her feet on the coffee table. "How did we get on this subject?"
"You asked if I had a hot date."
"Oh yeah."
"And my answer was—"
"I remember what it was," she stopped him. "I just got out of a serious relationship three months ago, Ian."
"If you're trying to tell me you're not ready to start dating again, don't bother. I'm not buying it. Whether you realize it or not, that's sort of what we've been doing. I know a lot has changed since I first started dating, back some twenty years ago, but we're still friends who enjoy one another's company. We don't have to put a label on it."
He made an excellent point.
"Besides, if you didn’t care about me, you wouldn't have given me your concert tickets." There was a hitch in his voice and a brief hesitation. "Gwen, you have no idea how much I appreciate you doing that. I'll be seeing him tomorrow. I just hope he'll want to go."
"He will. Any U2 fan would be an idiot to turn down the chance of seeing them perform live."
"Well I promise to make it up to you."
"You can by reimbursing me for the tickets."
They both laughed.
"I will." He sighed. "Listen, I'll try to be back before eleven-thirty tomorrow, but just in case I don't make it, you guys be careful. Okay?"
"We will. I hope everything goes okay with Isaac."
"Thank you. Good night, Gwen."
Gwen hung up and tossed the phone on the cushion beside her. Lizzie came into the living room meowing and jumped up on the sofa beside Gwen. As she pet the cat, she thought of her conversation with Tony on Wednesday. Getting involved with Ian on a more personal level was starting to sound better every day. Even if it didn't last, at least she wouldn't spend the rest of her life wondering what might've happened.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ian gathered the last of Isaac's belongings from his room and carried the box out to the rental trailer hitched to his car. A cleaning crew would be coming in Monday to get the house ready for its new owners. He glanced up at the white, two-story, and the rose bushes lining the front. He and Laurel had planted them together more than a dozen years ago. They had also built the tree house in the backyard together. A lot of great memories had been made here.
He had a new life now and, for the first time in years, he was happy. Gwen had a lot to do with that. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, there was a lot more between them than physical attraction. He enjoyed spending time with her. Even if it was just a few minutes here and there throughout the day. He loved her generous heart, her passion for life and her humor. He was also enchanted by her complexity. The majority of the time Gwen brimmed with confidence and was a pillar of strength, but occasionally Ian got a glimpse of a hidden vulnerability in her. A sadness deep within that she, as of yet, refused to reveal. The only thing he didn't like about her was that work seemed to be the number one priority in her life. He wanted to change that if she gave him the chance.
A silver late-model Chevy truck drove up behind the trailer. Ian immediately recognized his son behind the wheel. Lord, please let me keep my cool. May we each be patient and tolerant. Help us to mend our relationship.
Isaac got out of his truck, ran a hand through his reddish brown locks, and stopped a few feet from Ian. "You haven't thrown my stuff out yet, have you?"
"Of course not. I have it all boxed and labeled here in the trailer. Open your tailgate and I'll give you a hand moving them."
"I can do it myself," he snapped. Like his grandfather, Isaac had an Irish temper.
"All right." Ian looked over at the truck he had never seen before. "Nice. How long have you had it?"
Isaac walked past him carrying two taped boxes and placed them on the ground near the tailgate. Ian started to unlatch it but Isaac stepped in front of him and did it himself.
"'70 model, right?"
Isaac moved back to the trailer without answering.
"Listen, Son. I don't know why you're so mad at me. Maybe if we talked, though, we could work it out."
"You don't know why I'm mad? Oh that's rich. You stood by and let mom kill herself, remember?"
He might as well have thrust a knife in Ian's heart. "You can't help someone unless they want to be helped."
Isaac deposited another box into his truck and started back to the trailer. Ian stepped in front of him. "Listen to me, Isaac." Ian pushed aside his anger and gathered his composure. "I did my best with you kids, and your mom. Did I make mistakes? Sure I did. There are a lot of things I wish I'd done differently. Someday, when you have children of your own, you'll soon realize it i
sn't as easy as it appears. But as far as not helping your mother, that's a flat out lie. I did everything I could with her."
"You could've told me how bad she was. Maybe I could've helped."
So it wasn't just Ian he was mad at, he blamed himself, too. Isaac had just started college when Laurel began substituting pills for work. "Tell me, Isaac, what would you have done?"
He lowered his head, jamming his hands into his front pockets. "I don't know. Talk to her. Let her know how much we loved her and needed her."
"You don’t think I tried that. Both JoAnn and I did everything we could short of admitting her to a mental facility against her will. If I screwed up anywhere, it was there. But you know how stubborn your mother was. Even if I had admitted her, I doubt it would've done any good. The whole point of therapy is talking about what caused the problem in the first place, and your mom wouldn't. She refused to accept the fact she wasn't responsible for Christine's death."
Isaac just stood there staring at the ground.
"You had a bright future ahead of you, Isaac, I knew if I told you what was going on back home, you wouldn't be able to concentrate on your schoolwork, or worse, you'd leave college. It was bad enough JoAnn had to deal with it."
"I should've been given that choice."
"Yes, you should've, and I'm sorry I made it for you. A parent's first instinct is to protect their kids. There wasn't any way I could shield JoAnn from seeing her mother slowly kill herself, but I could spare you. I thought I was doing the right thing."
Isaac looked at Ian as tears welled in his eyes. "I miss them so much, Dad."
"I do too, Son. There isn't a day that goes by I don't."
"Why'd Mom do it? Didn't she know how much we needed her?" Isaac began to sob. "Didn't she care? I mean Chris died in an accident but Mom…she chose to leave us."
Ian wished he had those answers, but he didn't. So he did the only thing he could, he hugged his son. "Your momma loved you so much, Isaac. She was so proud of you. So am I." He continued to hold Isaac until his tears subsided.
Isaac stepped back and lifted the bottom of his t-shirt to wipe his face. "I guess Mom and Chris are together now, right?"