Hands cup her face, warm and soft and familiar. Chrissy tries to focus on Reggie, on the words she’s saying. She can’t hear her, though; her heartbeat is too loud. She stares and breathes and trembles and finally realizes she’s crying when Reggie wipes away her tears.
“I’m sorry,” Chrissy whispers.
“You have no reason to be sorry.” Reggie kisses her, her movements slow and gentle. “What happened was terrifying, and I didn’t even see what happened. I was hiding under a desk while you stared down a man bent on killing me. And you got hu…hurt.”
Reggie’s stutter surprises Chrissy. Pulling back, she loses her breath when she sees the tears streaming down Reggie’s flushed cheeks.
“Don’t cry. Please don’t cry,” Chrissy says. Cathy steps forward to rub Reggie’s back with slow circles. “I’ll heal. I’ll get better. It’s okay. I’m okay.”
She pulls Reggie forward and tucks her under her chin, looking up at Cathy with wide eyes when Reggie starts to sob. Cathy grimaces and makes nonsensical noise while continuing to rub Reggie’s back. Reggie’s hands clutch at Chrissy’s sides, and she does her best not to flinch in pain. She waits out the storm of Reggie’s emotions.
When Reggie pulls back, eyes swollen and red, Chrissy says, “And it was so worth it, Reggie. I will always want to protect you. You and Ben. And if I lost either of you…I’d never heal.” Chrissy waves a hand in front of her torso. “This is temporary. This is a nuisance. This will pass.” She can’t stand seeing Reggie so upset. She’s recognizing how she’s contributed to Reggie’s sadness by caring so little about her own welfare. She was ready to die, thinking she wasn’t nearly as important as Ben or Reggie, but now that she’s accepted the truth of Reggie’s affections, Chrissy’s determined to do better. She’s worth something in both their eyes and accepting that means taking better care of herself.
“Hey. Everyone okay?” David asks. He and Ben crowd around the bed, and Chrissy can see Reggie’s embarrassed.
“Yeah. I got upset, and that got Reggie upset. We’re a mess.” Chrissy grimaces with exaggeration, rolling her eyes. She sneaks a look at Reggie and is glad to see her slight smile.
“Well, we’re here for you. All of you,” Cathy says.
“Are you worried he’ll get out?” Ben asks, surprising Chrissy. He shrugs. “I know he’ll be in court tomorrow. He won’t, though, and even if he does, I’m here.” He stands tall, eyes bright and chin jutted out.
“Kid, you’re like a fire-breathing rubber ducky.” Chrissy grins when the others laugh, their voices overriding Ben’s squawk of outrage. “I love you, Ben, and you’re right. We’re safe.”
“And we’ll make sure you know what to expect every step of the way.” David looks toward Cathy. “Did you ask…”
Cathy winces. “No.”
“That’s okay. Hey, Ben, want to play a game of chess?” He nods at a chess set on the other side of the room.
“Yeah. I’ve been learning all these new moves.” He digs a hand into the front pocket of his jeans and pulls out a piece of paper. “I’ve been writing them down so I can practice.”
“Cool. Maybe this old dog can learn some new tricks.” They move away, and Chrissy looks at Cathy.
“We were wondering how you’d feel about having Ben sleep over during his break. Maybe toward the end of next week so he’s more at ease about your recuperation. Todd will be staying with us while his parents are on a cruise. They don’t usually leave him this long, but the cruise is a twentieth high school reunion event.”
Chrissy’s touched, both by the invitation and their tact with not discussing it in front of Ben. She nods. “That sounds great. I know he’ll enjoy it. Feel free to talk to him about it.”
“I’m glad. He and Todd seem to have hit it off.”
Once Cathy joins David and Ben, Chrissy studies Reggie. Although beautiful, Reggie looks bedraggled, her hair mussed and eyes tired. “After they leave, how about an early night?”
“As long as I can sleep with you in my arms, I’ll agree to just about anything.”
“I’ll be sure to remind you of that once I’m able to capitalize on it.”
The way Reggie’s tongue flicks out to wet her lips before she captures her bottom lip between her teeth mesmerizes Chrissy. “I certainly hope so.”
***
“I don’t know whether Ben brought this up with you, but I’ve received several messages from people wanting to interview me. I was thinking of talking to a reporter at The Boston Globe.” Chrissy’s sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs near the bedroom window, glad to be anywhere but in bed after several days of feeling like an invalid. Reggie’s eyes flick up from the document she’s studying, and Chrissy hurries to add, “I don’t have to answer any questions I don’t like, and I was thinking I could meet the person at their office. You can come, too.”
“I’d rather have the reporter come here so you can be comfortable. I know you’re feeling a bit better, but I can guarantee traveling across the city will take a toll on you.”
With a nod, Chrissy realizes she’s worried about overdoing it. “All right. If you don’t mind, I can get set up in the downstairs parlor, and Ben can hang out in the den. I’ll call back today to arrange it.”
“I don’t mind.” Reggie’s grin is rueful. “I hate sounding like a nagging Nellie, but I worry about you.”
Warmth bubbles up in Chrissy’s chest. “I love you. Thank you.”
“Hi, Mom. How are you feeling?” Ben asks, crossing over to them. He leans over to deliver a gentle hug before plopping into a chair. His hair is still damp from his shower. He’s wearing jeans and a blue-checkered flannel shirt.
“Better. How did you sleep?”
“Good. I talked to Todd. Is it okay if I sleep over David and Cathy’s on Wednesday night?”
“That sounds fine. Listen. I’m going to agree to an interview for tomorrow. We’ll set you up in the den, and—”
“What? No.” Ben jumps up. “I want to be with you during it. I’ll be quiet. I promise.” His eyes plead with Chrissy to agree, but her mind’s made up.
“That won’t work. It’s bad enough you’ve been reading all the articles on the internet. I don’t know what I’ll be asked, and I really don’t want the reporter asking you anything.”
“But that’s why I have to be there. I have to protect you.” His eyes well up. This isn’t the first time he’s expressed his desire to protect her.
Reggie tilts her head toward him, eyebrows lowered. “I’ll be there. I’ll make sure nothing happens to her. If I think the questions are too invasive, I’ll step in.”
Ben’s face clears up. He gazes at Reggie, the two having a silent conversation. “Okay.”
“Okay,” Reggie echoes.
By the time the reporter arrives to interview Chrissy the next day, she’s a nervous wreck. Chrissy sits in a cream-colored chair near the fireplace in the parlor. She has a handmade cinnamon-colored afghan covering her legs. Her ribs ache, but as long as she’s cautious with her movements, she hopes to avoid any sharp pains. Her lacerations ache, but they’re manageable. Reggie changed the gauzes that morning, and she said they didn’t look as angry.
Detailed carvings over the mantel emphasize the realistic lion reliefs seated to each side of the fire, front paws crossed and mouths open to roar. Chrissy’s restless gaze traces the animals’ bodies while she listens to Reggie answer the front door. The reporter, a balding, slightly overweight man wearing a tan sweater and jeans, follows Reggie into the room. He has a jerky gait, as if he’s pushing off the floor with each step. Reggie takes a seat on the fawn-colored sofa at the end farthest from Chrissy.
“Hi. I’m Lenny Morton.” He shakes Chrissy’s hand. “Thanks for agreeing to the interview. I promise not to take too much of your time.” He sits down on the other end of the sofa, closer to Chrissy, and opens a notebook. “Is it okay if I record?” He looks up, a small recorder in his hand. Chrissy nods, and he places it on the table between
them.
“Interview with Chrissy Kramer on December 27, 2016,” he intones before looking up. “Chrissy, since I’ve done some preliminary work on this article, I’m going to jump right into it. Do you know the shooter?”
“Yes. He was a client of Reggie’s.”
Lenny looks down at some documents. “Frank Hogan. What was the case?”
“I believe you already have that information from the police report,” Chrissy says. Two questions in and already I’m getting a bad feeling about this guy. Why’s he asking me about things he already knows?
“Right. So, Chrissy, what were you thinking when you realized what was happening?”
“I needed to stop him. He was hurting people and heading toward Reggie’s office.”
“Where were you when you first saw him?”
“I was returning from the restroom.” She twists her fingers in the blanket, her mind returning to December 23th. She’s done her best not to dwell, but the sight of Hogan striding through the law firm is one she will not forget.
“Had you ever spoken to Mr. Hogan before the day of the shooting?”
“Yes. He came into the office a few times to discuss his case with Reggie.”
“So you were able to identify him as soon as you saw him.”
“Yes.”
“Weren’t you afraid he would shoot you?”
“Of course. But I was more afraid he would kill Reggie.” What a stupid question. Who wouldn’t be afraid?
“Just Reggie?” Lenny rifles through some papers before reading it. “The police report states Ben Kramer was in the office, too. Isn’t he your son?”
A spike of anger races through her, and she hesitates before answering. “I’d prefer you don’t mention him by name in the paper. He’s young.”
He offers a small smile. “I understand. But, you were willing to place yourself in danger to protect him, too. Right?”
“Of course.” The edge in her voice is unmistakable. What the hell kind of question is that? What type of mother does he think I am?
He hums, jotting down some notes. “Why was he there? It’s an odd place for a teenager to hang out.”
“What does that have to do with the shooting?” Chrissy glares at the guy. He better not be insinuating I’m a bad mother for letting him visit me at work.
“His being there motivated you to put your life in danger.”
Chrissy nods, though she sees no reason to add she would have reacted the same way if only Reggie were in the office. “I would die for him.”
He fiddles with his pen. “I find that although many people may make such a claim, few carry through when a loved one’s in danger. It takes great courage. Which leads me to my next question: have you had any training for disarming a person?”
“No. I knew Hogan wasn’t going to stop, though.”
“And you needed to stop him because he wanted to kill your boss, and your son was with her. Did the alleged assailant know he was there?”
Chrissy shakes her head. “He was hiding in Reggie’s office with her under the desk. I made them hide,” she adds, not wanting this guy to get the wrong idea about Reggie. “I tried to talk to Hogan, but he became more agitated by the moment. So, I tackled him at the knees and got the rifle from him.”
“Your son was on winter break?”
What the hell! Chrissy gives an explosive exhalation. “Why do you keep bringing him up? Yes, he’s on break. Yes, he was there. It was Friday afternoon, and we were going to pick out a Christmas tree after work.”
“Right. Sorry. I’m like a dog with a bone, sometimes.” He looks around the room, and Chrissy’s eyes also take in the area. The light gray walls bring a modern feel, while the overstuffed furniture, plush navy area rugs, and round side lamps lend comfort. “I’m curious. Why did we meet here instead of at the law firm or your home or at a coffee shop? Even my office?”
Not sure how to answer, Chrissy looks at Reggie, who gives her a reassuring smile. “She’s allowing me to recuperate here.”
“Oh. That’s kind of you to help her,” he says to Reggie with a fake smile. “Certainly more than what the typical boss would offer.”
Seeing Reggie’s eyes tighten and lips purse, Chrissy says, “Reggie’s been great. She knew I’d have a hard time taking care of myself because of the broken ribs, and she offered to help me.”
“I’m surprised you aren’t staying with your family. Aren’t they in Chelsea?”
Chrissy’s eyes widen, her gut twisting. She rubs her hands together, wanting to dodge the question. Her eyes flitter around the room, finding Reggie’s warm ones. Chrissy’s stomach settles, and she redirects her gaze to the reporter. She offers a tight smile and remains silent. She has no intention of talking about her parents. They haven’t been her family since they kicked her out.
“How has your family reacted to all this?” Lenny asks.
“I have a feeling you know more than I do.” Chrissy does her best to maintain a genial expression, even though she wants to rail against this fool for asking questions she doesn’t want to answer.
“They did mention they haven’t spoken to you in a while.”
Chrissy’s eye twitches. She clasps her hands together, not wanting the reporter to see how they tremble. All this talk about her parents is upsetting. What could they possibly have to say about me? Why is this guy talking to them about me? Why can’t he stick to the shooting? Chrissy stares at her hands, doing her best to control her anger. First, he drags Ben into this, and now he’s opening up my past like it’s some sordid soap opera.
“Right,” Reggie says, clapping her hands together while jumping to her feet. “Thank you for coming. I’ll show you out.” She gives him a polite smile and extends her hand in the general direction of the front door.
The reporter turns off the recorder, gathers his notes, and nods at Chrissy. “It was nice to meet you. Thank you for your time.” He pauses before exiting the parlor. “Happy New Year.” He leaves before she can reply.
When Reggie returns, she leans over to deliver a soft kiss. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. He just threw me for a loop when he mentioned Ben and then my parents. I don’t understand why he was asking such personal questions.” She shakes her head. “I thought this interview was about the shooting. Why was he asking about them?”
“He probably wants to make the article more interesting by inserting information about you. You may want to prepare Ben for it. And yourself.” Reggie sits on the sofa and crosses her legs, hands smoothing over her black slacks. “He mentioned the article will appear in the Lifestyle Section on Thursday.”
“Do you think he spoke to them? To my parents?”
“I do.” Reggie stares at the table between them. Chrissy watches her rub her thumb and forefinger together in a circular motion while she’s lost in thought. “Any idea what they might have told him?”
“Not really. I don’t like to talk about them. After I became pregnant, they demanded I get married. Like all good Catholics do. When I refused, they threw me out.”
“Don’t feel you have to tell me…”
That makes Chrissy look up. “I want to tell you. I should have told you before now.” She picks at the edge of the blanket. “They told me on several occasions I was an accident. A drunken mistake. They got married because they’re Catholic, and their parents expected them to. Mom always complained I gave her heartburn during the pregnancy and it never went away. Dad worked long hours as a used car salesman. He used to let me clean the inside of the cars and keep any money I found.” She frowns. “That’s the best memory I have of Dad.”
“Have you ever tried to contact them?”
“I did the first few years after Ben was born. I sent them pictures, begged them to meet their grandson, but I received no response. I knew they were ashamed of me. Angry, I only appeared at their home once.” Chrissy shakes her head, weary. She always feels this way when she allows herself to think about the past. “They had compan
y over. As soon as my mom opened the door, I knew she’d send me away. She told me to not return. I left the house key on the stoop and vowed never to talk to them again.”
“I’m sorry. Ben’s better off not being around them.”
“I know, but he deserves better.”
“You both do.” Reggie moves over to Chrissy, kneeling before her and clasping their hands together. “I know it’s not the same, but I’m grateful to have you in my life. I love you and Ben. You’re not alone anymore, not for as long as you’ll have me. And I know this is all new, but I feel like we’ve been dating for months.”
“Well, I think we have been. You had me at Gino’s.”
Laughter bursts from Reggie like popcorn over a flame, making Chrissy smile. “Not at hello?”
“More like at tiramisu. Although, by then I’d already resigned myself to being head over heels in love with you.”
Reggie squeezes Chrissy’s hands. “When I started thinking of you while kissing Ashford, I knew I was in the best kind of trouble. That’s when I began to let you in. I wanted to know everything about you. And please believe me when I say, I’m glad I took the chance.”
It doesn’t take much to make Chrissy believe Reggie means what she says. Reggie’s words, her intense eyes and passionate voice, leave no doubt in Chrissy’s mind that she’s telling the truth. Besides, she wants to believe her. “Thank you.” She rests her forehead against Reggie’s, ignoring how her ribs twinge. “I love you.”
Rising, Reggie extends her hands. “Let me help you up.”
“That’s okay.” Chrissy places a hand on her ribs and rises. “I spoke to my doctor a bit earlier and made an appointment to see how my shoulder and calf are healing for Friday morning at ten.”
“I’ll take you to the appointment, if you don’t mind.” Reggie shifts from foot to foot.
Chrissy’s forehead crinkles. “I’d like that,” she says, watching Reggie straighten up, take a deep breath, and exhale slowly. Chrissy steps into Reggie’s space and cups her jaw. “I think you’re right. We’ve been dating for a long time, even if we didn’t label it that way. I was afraid my feelings were one-sided, but you keep showing me how much you care.” She delivers a chaste kiss, and when they part, she admires Reggie’s upturned face and closed eyes. Unable to resist, she rests her hand on the back of Reggie’s head, fingers sifting through silky brunette locks, and pulls her forward for another kiss.
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