Al Shu’ala, Baghdad, 2008…
The Hummer seemed to be almost lumbering; due more to the uneven surface of the road than the vehicle. Still, it felt like she was sitting in the back seat of her father’s Suburban. She almost expected Danielson to turn around to them in the back seat with a ‘will you kids just shut up.’ The woman beside her grabbed her arm to get her attention.
“Don’t worry, I got your back, ‘kay?”
Even with all of her gear, Amani Fayzi still looked to be the prettiest woman she’d ever seen. She knew, of course, that Amani would have her back, but circumstances and regulations kept anything more from developing. The moment felt very awkward as the two exchanged disappointed glances, Danielson did turn around briefly, but only to ask for another bottle of water. Amani grabbed a bottle and leaned forward to hand it to him.
“Forget your still-suit, Jack?” she laughed; Iraq wasn’t Arrakis, but it was hot and dry. Danielson reached over for the water just as the Hummer hit a bump in the road. A very loud bang followed...
Queens, New York City, 2015…
Darla stood next to the police cruiser, leaning slightly on the fender with her right hand. She stared at the bodega entrance, waiting for her partner to emerge. A moment later gunshots rang out. She was about to hit the switch on her radio when something whizzed past her ear. Mere seconds played out in slow motion as she reacted by ducking and a pain exploded in her left temple. And everything went black.
“Okay, sweetie, we’ve got you,” she heard a voice off to her left; lights seemed to flash, almost strobe-like as she felt something well up in her from the odd motion.
“Oh shit,” the voice said. She felt a hand grab her head; not too gently in fact, as she vomited even as a hand wiped her face with a wet cloth…. And then it all went black again.
Mt. Sinai Hospital, Queens, NYC…
“Hey partner,” a voice seemed to come out of the hazy dim light.
“Thought I lost you. Too fucking close if you ask me.”
“Ohhhhh…my head.”
“Easy…you took a nasty crease on your temple. Never thought anyone could bleed so much and not….well…just rest.” He laughed only a bit before stepping closer. His face was familiar…just.
“What …what happened? Alex?” A name. That’s good, right?
“Listen…you really don’t remember?”
“No… did you get my sandwich?”
“Yeah, but I sorta fell on it when I got shot.” Officer Alex…Petrovic? Subway… Eat fresh….
“Oh… shot?”
“Yeah… two guys tried to rob Mahmoud’s. You really don’t remember? Holy shit, Darla. You saved my life. I got winged by one of the perps before I took him out. The other guy ran out of the store, and when I went to follow he turned and started shootin’ at me. By then I couldn’t even hold my arm up to fire back. Your shot got him in the shoulder. He turned a got off the round that hit you in the head. You actually stood there and shot back. Got him in the chest…those fuckers were wearing vests.”
A gasp.
“Yeah. Anyway, by then I’d staggered over where he fell. He was trying to turn around to shoot at you, but by then you’d already passed out. I still couldn’t lift my weapon, so I did the next best thing.” Alex started to laugh.
“W…what?”
“I kicked him in the head. He dropped his gun. By this time Stinson and Capaldi pull up and he ends up in cuffs like two seconds later.” Another laugh.
“What?”
“The other guy…mind you, he’s got a vest too. Who the fuck wears a vest to rob a sandwich shop? Anyway, he goes to try to stand up and follow his partner out of the store. Mahmud… God bless him. Hits the guy in the back of the leg with a Louisville Slugger and then pounds the shit out of the fucker’s arm when he reaches for the gun. Between the two of you, you should both get a medal.” Another laugh followed by a broad gesture.
“Best he could do without us all getting in trouble,” Alex said as he produced a bottle of caffeine-free Diet Pepsi.
“Mahmud said any time you come in, the drinks are on the house.” And odd turn of phrase, since he and his partner were recovering alcoholics.
“They say you're pretty much okay, but you’re here for the night.” I’ve got a shitload of paperwork to fill out. I’ll catch you tomorrow when it’s time to fly this place.” He stepped closer and offered a handshake.
“Not bad…not bad at all.”
Alex walked out. With no one else to talk to there was nothing else left to do. Darla put her head back and closed her eyes. Visions of other times and places seemed to flood her half-dreamy state as she saw another skirmish...
This time, she was hoping and praying instead of wielding any weapons, accompanied by complete and utter failure as the child who had just been given a hug and a chocolate bar had run off to tell her mother about a very welcome if unexpected kindness.
“NO!” she screamed as the little girl disappeared in a horrific explosion.
“NOOO!!!” A scream; quickly followed by a hand reaching out with soothing words.
“It’s okay….shhhh.” Darla looked up and saw her mother standing by the bed.
“Mom?” She stared into her mother’s face. The disconnect began almost immediately with her mother’s smile turning into a disappointed frown.
“You should have listened to me. You couldn’t handle it. I knew you couldn’t handle it. A fine one you turned out to be. Just like your father!” The curt words were accompanied by a head shake as the woman pulled her hand away. Her face seemed to dissolve even as another hand grasped Darla’s; the words of comfort returned as the nurse wiped her brow with a cold cloth.
“It’s okay….you’re right here and now and you’re okay.” The woman smiled with a look that said she knew exactly how Darla felt, which eased the inside pain enough to help her lower her outside guard as she laid back on the pillow and sobbed. The nurse smiled and continued to dab Darla’s forehead.
“It’s okay….shhhh.” Not the ‘shh’ that says ‘stop crying,’ but the soft, quiet assurance that gives permission to cry.
“Shhhhh,” the nurse smiled down at the officer. So many changes in the past three years, she thought. How could the girl’s mother be so obstinate as to stay away. How indeed when everyone else loved Darla, including her Aunt Jo.
“Dear god in heaven, how do I deal with this?” Jo Bianchi was determined to help her sister’s ‘only ‘child, with one daughter living in California with her own family and another daughter now residing in heaven. The ‘remaining’ child being the one who served bravely a lifetime ago and a world away. She had followed her aunt’s footsteps at least during her time of service; in the medical corps. And while she had chosen only a few years ago to be a cop, she still was all about serving people.
And then, of course she took after her favorite aunt in another, even bigger way. HMC-3 Aldo Farnetti performed with distinction; but it was Officer Darla Farnetti, three years past her ‘first’ birthday who lay in the hospital bed. Jo held her hand as she passed finally into a restful half-sleep. She kissed her niece on the forehead and walked out of the room.
Jo smiled, recalling the other huge connection with her niece as she remembered her own surgery over two decades earlier; the fond if held safe in her heart memory of the day Joseph Bianchi became…or rather, allowed herself to emerge as Josephine Bianchi after years of hiding. And the utter disappointment as her only sibling rejected her just as she rejected her daughter Darla…
“Your father would be so disappointed in you,” the woman huffed. That Aldo’s father would be disappointed was a foregone conclusion; nothing his son ever did was good enough. God knows he had tried, but every attempt was thwarted by the angry words that never expressed expectations but demanded satisfaction.
“I’m sorry, Mommy, but this is who I am.”
Aldo looked down at his body; the evidence of new change had yet to be seen, and the clothes he wore looked as out-of-place as his mother believed. Nothing spectacular in the reveal; women’s slacks and a blouse on a body that was only just beginning a long-delayed transformation. And a protracted conversation only two days before had ended in frustration. That her favorite Aunt had been the arbiter between mother and child did nothing to mitigate the near-casual dismissal from Louise.
“You’re a man. Stop it, Aldo!” she snapped. Louise turned her back but continued talking.
“I think you need to go. I’m too upset with you…”
“But Mommy?”
“You’re not a child any longer, Aldo.” She said the name almost as an insult.
“Mom?” Mommy had long departed in a way; leaving in her place a bitter woman who seemed to hate her only child.
“No!” Louise walked to her bedroom. Standing at the doorway she spoke.
“Leave…Both of you!”
Jo had literally been ignored up until that point. She faced Louise and saw tears flowing freely from the woman’s face. It would have been better for the child if the mother had remained mean-spirited and cruel, but the tears indicated that somehow love, however misguided, still dwelt deep in the recesses of the woman’s soul; a teasing promise of sorts that would likely never be kept.
Louise stepped inside and closed the door firmly. A click indicated not only a locked door but a locked heart. Aldo turned away for the last time as Darla emerged; Jo there to witness a still-born birth in a way as the love between Louise and Aldo died, only to be replaced with resentment and sadness from mother to daughter…
14th Precinct, Astoria, Queens, New York…a few weeks later…
Darla threw her purse on the desk; the contents threatening to spill out as it tipped over and fell onto the chair beneath. She looked around; her well-wishers seemed to have retreated into some cavernous hole of anxious dread. Thankfully a handful of folks stayed in touch while she recuperated from her injuries. Her partner made sure that she knew she was at least supported by some at the precinct.
Picking up the purse, she walked into the locker room and sat down on the bench in between the lockers; breathing out a sigh.
“Hey, Farnetti. Here...Catch!” She turned to see an object tumbling in the air as it made aim toward her head. She grabbed it and laughed. A bottle of Excedrin Migraine; owing almost as much to the headache of her place in the precinct as the wound that put her out of commission. She looked over and noticed her ‘assailant’ was echoing her laugh; a rich, merry soprano.
“Welcome back, sweets.” Lisa Kovic smiled and playfully blew a kiss. No secrets between the two of them or anybody else at the precinct for that matter. Lisa was quite comfortable in her skin; all idiocy and ignorance aside, she didn’t mind at all that anyone knew her preferences. ‘Scratch that,’ Darla thought. It wasn’t a preference to either of them other than with whom of any of the women they knew they might choose. But it wasn’t a choice that they 'preferred' women at all.
“You and I oughta get together sometime, Darla,” Lisa teased. She was in a very comfortable, long-term relationship with a dentist in Queen; her words were more to nettle the few remaining stalwart Neanderthals that frequented the locker room.
Most of their fellow officers were either of the ‘live and let live’ variety or outright found that working with lesbians was akin to working with someone who was left-handed or with brown eyes instead of green. It still disappointed both women that few of them would speak openly about that acceptance, but thankfully there were a few who didn’t really care what their brothers in blue felt either.
“Welcome home, kid,” a voice spoke from around the corner. A second later a tall African-American man emerged into the narrow space and sat down next to Darla.
“Eunice and I’ve been praying for you.” He leaned closer and hugged Darla. Apart from her partner and Lisa and the man beside her, no one other than Human Resources knew anything of her past. Her secret was safe; wrapped up in a blanket of pre-conceived notions that assumed she was ‘only’ a lesbian. And truth be told, none of the three would ever label her anyway.
“Thanks, Jerico. I’m glad to be back and I think I almost felt the prayers.” She smiled at the tall man.
“You know we’re still praying about that other thing, Darla.” It was important to Jerico and his wife that they supported every bit of their friend’s hopes and dreams. And that included someone that might be a part of Darla’s life outside of work.
“Oh don’t I know it. I can’t believe you do that.” She sighed a bit; frustrated at the reminder but happy at the thought of how much her friends cared.
“If it’s important to you, child.” Jerico was only a few years older than Darla, but was the Papa Bear in the squad room to the younger officers. Darla came to the party late, having gone through the academy at nearly twenty-six after a literal lifetime in another place. She sighed and her face grew red.
“It’s okay, Darla. You remember there’s nothing wrong with you ‘cause god don’t make no mistakes.’” Jerico had grown up in a place where he had been made to feel he was a mistake, and knew exactly…mostly how Darla felt. He patted her on the back and stood up.
“You’re invited to Vanessa’s birthday party. Sunday at four if you don’t pull the weekend. Okay?” He opened his locker; pulling out a hand-written invitation.
“She’s turning six, and you know how much she likes you….loves you…” He breathed out a content sigh. Darla looked up at Jerico and smiled. It was good to hear that someone loved her, even if it was a soon-to-be six-year-old girl.
“Hey…look who’s back…. Hey, Farnetti…forget to duck?” One of the knuckle-draggers said casually as he walked past the row of lockers. A moment later he emitted a muffled 'oof' which was followed by a hasty apology.
“Geez… I was only making fun.”
“You’re an idiot. She nearly gets killed saving my life and the lives of the family in that store and you make a fucking joke? Get out of my face!” The words were followed by another thud as the man was shoved rudely into the end locker.
“I’m sorry,” Alex Petrovic said as he stood at the end of the row of lockers. He was protective of Darla; a older big brother of sorts as well as her partner. They had known each other before Darla began the newest chapter in her life; classmates at QCC before they both chose to serve their country albeit in different places a world away.
Alex came back nearly as intact as his best friend since both continued to deal with what and whom they left behind. And the 'whom' Darla had left behind was sorely missed at first until Alex realized that his best friend was still the same person if changed quite a bit. Aldo still lived; just not in a way that Alex immediately understood.
Over a short time they renewed their friendship and ended up quite coincidentally as partners out on the streets as they say. A brief foray into a ‘deeper’ relationship ended amicably enough when Darla realized that she never stopped loving girls and Alex realized the best relationship for them both was as de facto brother and sister.
“You, sir, are a blessing,” Lisa said as she closed her locker; ready for her shift.
“If I ever decide to date boys, you are the first one on my list,” she laughed and walked out of the locker room.
“I got some news that’s a bit crazy.” He nodded and sat down next to Darla. She tilted her head, expecting the worst. He shook his head.
“No…not that crazy…just…. Those guys we busted at the store? You know how skeevy it felt….robbing a mom-and-pop and wearing vests?” Darla nodded but her eyes widened a bit in confusion.
“They made bail that night….what the fuck? The bastard practically kills a cop and he’s out and his buddy too?” The look on Alex’s face told Darla there was more to the story and likely even more skeevy.
“A couple of nights ago patrol over at the 105th found the mutts in an alley behind a pizza joint in Ozone Park….double tapped. I mean….what the…” Alex left off the colorful metaphor and shook his head again.
“Are you serious?” Darla looked straight ahead and then back at Alex.
“No shit…. I can almost see guys like them getting offed over a bad deal, but double-tapped is a pro hit… Crazy.” Darla nodded reflexively.
“Anyway, they aren’t going to be robbing anybody else in this lifetime…..” He laughed at the irony before continuing.
“I guess Mahmud can breathe a sigh of relief. For the moment….” Anybody trading in nearly any place in the five boroughs stood to risk life and limb and fortune of sorts. The lucky ones only got robbed once or not at all, but it wasn’t a surprise to find the neighborhood bodega being the target of multiple robberies. Darla nodded again.
“Anyway, just so you know? Mahmud says he’s upping the reward. Two Diet Pepsis a week and he’ll even throw in a free Post.” Alex laughed.
“Well, old buddy…up and at em!” Alex stood up and walked around the corner to his locker In a few minutes they were at Roll Call and a half hour later they were in the black and white heading out for the day.
Al-Salaam Grocery, Astoria…a short while later…
“I wanted to thank you and you,” the young woman said; her gaze and smile divided equally between Darla and Alex.
“My father owes his life to you both.” She put her hand on Alex’s wrist before drawing it back.
“Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to be so forward.” She lowered her gaze a bit before turning around. Mahmud smiled at her. What his daughter did in the store and at home was their business and theirs alone. She nodded; feeling a little less embarrassed, but a bit relieved as well. She turned to Darla.
“I am so sorry you were hurt, Officer….” She paused and her eyes fell upon Darla’s name tag.
“Farnetti. Ah..Italian. My mother’s mother came from Siracusa… Her father was an Imam. So we are related, si?” The woman smiled, almost playfully. Darla turned away for a moment in thought; her heart drawn swiftly across miles and time as she recalled another smile…..
Al Shu’ala, Baghdad...
When will you be back?” Aldo leaned on the fender of the Hummer and shrugged at the woman. She nodded her head.
“We go where they tell us and when they tell us…” She resisted the urge to use an endearment. It was no secret to anyone that the two were an item; a perilous place for too many reasons to cite and only one glorious reason to rejoice. As far as the folks in charge knew, Amani Fayzi and Aldo Farnetti were just two valuable assets in their efforts to make the world safe for whatever the going phrase happened to be. Unofficially, winks and nods at least didn’t scream ‘stop…this is against regulations,’ and their beginning romance had begun to bloom.
“Hey you two, let’s roll,’ Danielson said as he hopped into the driver’s seat. Exactly twenty-seven minutes later, Aldo Farnetti beheld Amani Fayzi’s smile for the last time as their Hummer somersaulted twice from the shock of the explosion of an IED. And exactly twenty-eight minutes later, Aldo Farnetti got on with the rest of his life by dying in a way on a dusty road on the outskirts of Baghdad…
“Officer Farnetti? Is there something wrong?” Darla looked up from her absent-minded view of the scuffed floor tile to find the young woman smiling at her again. She took a deep breath and smiled back nervously before saying,
“Oh…I’m okay. I just remembered a call I have to make…. Follow-up visit to the doctor’s? If you’ll excuse me? “ She didn’t wait for an answer but hurried out of the store. A few minutes later she was joined by her partner; his face displaying a bit of confusion and just a smaller bit of anger.
“What the fuck was that about?” He said, climbing into the squad car. She looked at him but turned her face toward the window.
“I…”
“They wanted to thank us…. I mean Mahmud and his daughter ….you were ….what the hell, partner? What’s going on?” His expression softened and he placed his hand on her arm. She went to pull away, but he kept contact without grabbing as he leaned closer.
“Listen…we go back a long way, and you know you can tell me anything, right?” He wiped his brow with his arm and leaned against the headrest.
“I…I know, Al….I just….Not right now….okay?” She turned around and smiled weakly. He nodded.
“Okay…whenever you’re ready.” He smiled at her; the brotherly smile she had always known and come to love even more as her own part in the relationship changed after her transition. Where there once was a brothers-in-arms equation, the whole thing had evolved into a big brother-little sis situation, which was fine with both of them.
Fits and starts that hung on even after several years as Alex walked side by side with Darla as she negotiated the minefield her new life had become. But it was and would always be side by side. He reached over and touched her cheek; feeling the moist track of tears. He didn’t know what to do at that point other than to brush away the wetness gently with his hand as he spoke softly.
“Don’t worry about talking, okay? I think I know….” His eyes sparkled warmly as he turned his gaze to face back at the store. Beseema Abdel-Salaam stood at the doorway; her face an expression of concern over the abrupt departure of the woman in the squad car. Alex turned around and nodded silently. A moment later Darla had started the car and seconds later they were driving away.
“I don’t want to talk about it now, Al but I promise you I will..with you, okay?” Darla said without taking her eyes off the road. Alex nodded and said okay. As the store disappeared from the rearview of the windshield mirror, Alex Petrovic grinned to himself; a confident grin over recalling what he knew about Arabic from his time in Kuwait.
“Beseema Abdel Salaam,” mouthed silently and out of Darla’s vision.
“Please forgive me,” Mahmoud had said….”I am sorry that I forgot to introduce my daughter Beseema.”
Alex looked in the mirror once again, realizing the irony of the moment as he recalled the meaning of the young woman’s name.
“Beseema…smile….” His expression mirrored the meaning. And her family name?
“Abdel Salaam…servant of peace.”
Alex wasn’t into prognostication; especially when it came to his best friend. But he looked over at Darla and squinted a bit. That smile of the young woman struck a nerve in Darla. He could only hope that the woman’s last name would finally provide some peace for her as well.
A few nights later…
Darla lay awake; staring at the ceiling seemed to be de rigueur for her nights since sleep seemed to be only an occasional visitor to her bedside. She turned and looked at the display from the clock radio; 4:02. She turned her attention once again to the ceiling. How many times had she counted the square tiles in hopes that they might function in the same manner that sheep do for others. She closed her eyes, trying to reset, but her default continued to be ‘lie awake in my own sweat and tears.’
“Now I lay me down to sleep….” She knew other prayers from other times and other places, but this one seemed to fit. She had prayed desperately as a child that God would take her if he chose not to change the sad little boy into a princess or a nurse or a cowgirl. And while the particulars of the hopes changed as she grew older, the desperation never abated. She had a lifetime of risky and even borderline self-destructive choices; no worry about being in harm’s way since anything was better than a life as Aldo.
But God never chose to take her soul, so to speak. Even when her life seemed to be ripped apart by the destruction of others, she remained whole…too whole for her needs. Only after beginning to deal with the loss of the love of her life was she able to accept that it was in her hands alone to become Darla; no matter what help she might receive along the way.
But becoming Darla…or rather, finally presenting as Darla, had done nothing to relieve her of the demons that had beset her from childhood. Her mother practically hated her even when she was ‘Mommy’s little boy.’ Guilt and shame over her feelings and beliefs about herself didn’t just magically fade away. It was only when she started facing herself….looking inward instead of seeking outside solutions…that she started integrating the good with the not so good. Becoming a whole person with one outlook instead of being torn in two.
“4:37…oh fuck….” She winced at her own words. A woman shouldn’t talk like that, much less a ‘lady.’ Her head and heart filled with stereotypes that shoved her around like bullies on a playground. She sighed and blinked back the obligatory guilty tears. If sleep failed to drop by, she was at least assured that crying was predictable and therefore leaving her forewarning to cope.
Fewer tears fell from guilt and shame, and what little guilt remained came from what was left undone and neglected rather than what she had finally chosen to act upon. No one chooses to be transgender, but all are left with choices in how and when to move or not.
“5:12….oh maaaannnn…” A comment that was an old friend as well; complaints over marginally annoying tasks or expectations that had become the go-to expressions for the more serious or disappointing. Less than an hour to rising and she already knew it was pointless to try to gain any sleep. Nevertheless, she closed her eyes, hoping for at least some respite from the emotional buffeting from the past several days.
“I love you,” a woman’s voice echoed from within; a voice she would never again hear this side of paradise. But the face that accompanied the voice still smiled. Perhaps Amani Fayzi was as peaceful as she imagined, but Darla was not, no matter what she imagined for the woman whose death left a hole in her heart wide enough to drive a Humvee through. As she lay there, the vision began to change. Where the face of her beloved once was, another face began to materialize, so to speak. A face as beautiful, but fraught with sadness and fear and horror. The face was familiar, but Darla struggled in the midst of the vision; pulled between the past and the present...
“6:22….oh fuck….” She put her hand on her forehead and then wiped away more tears than she could remember shedding in a long time. Tears for her loss. Tears for her confusion. Tears for another? Her sad musing was interrupted by the electronic strains of the Piano Guys coming from her cell phone. She reached over and hit the pad.
“Farnetti, yes? Alex, what the fuck…it’s not even 6:30..what…No…son of a bitch…” She didn’t even bother to say goodbye; time enough for pleasantries in a short while since a quick shower would be followed by the hasty trip to the precinct for her shift. She fell back against the bunched up pillows; a few minutes to take it in.
She closed her eyes and tried to make sense of what she had just heard, but the face she had seen only moments before seemed to plead even more. She found her own tears had begun to mirror the tears that fell freely from the woman in her vision. Beseema Abdel Salaam pled with her….beseeching more than just answers, but seeking something that seemed only Darla could provide; peace.
Mahmoud Abdel Salaam had been shot to death while opening his shop. It’s said that the death of only one person diminishes us all. Darla hardly knew Mahmoud other than the kind, warm, and welcoming smile that he gave to her; a gesture withheld even by her own mother that was a blessing from a virtual stranger. But his death was made even more meaningful and tragic in that Darla’s small grief was dwarfed by the sadness of the woman in her dreams.
And as odd as it felt, that loss seemed to pull her a bit out of her own sadness. Something about Amani’s death would always seem noble if tragic. But if that death truly was to remain noble, it had to be that Darla needed to seek her peace among the living. And that peace was destined to be bestowed by the love of another.
Al-Salaam Grocery Store, a short while later...
A petite woman stood back against a steady breeze; her coat barely keeping out the morning chill. Her aqua-hued Hijab was tucked under the coat collar. Alec and Darla stood facing her and the bustle of activity over her right shoulder.
“Please, Officer Farnetti, Officer Petrovic....who could have done such an evil thing. What did my father ever do to deserve this?”
Beseema pointed in the direction of the storefront; the sidewalk was clear other than crime-scene tape stretching across from two lampposts to both sides of the metal trellis-like security curtain. The body had been removed, leaving a dark brown stain against the sun-bleached asphalt. Two detectives were speaking with the beat cops who had arrived first. Beseema turned away and put her hand to her face; more out of a sense of propriety than the underlying, overwhelming grief.
“I don’t know, Ms. Salaam, please pardon me if I didn’t get that right?” Alex asked gently. He didn’t get it quite right, but that was the furthest thing from Beseema’s mind. He continued.
“The detectives from Homicide will be handling the investigation. They’ve already gotten the information from the other attack. They’re not quite convinced this wasn’t random, but then they’ve only had the case for an hour. I’m sorry we can’t give you more than that.”
“Oh, I understand.” She half-smiled at Darla and Alec, causing Darla to blush. She nodded and waved at one of the crime scene techs before walking over to the taped-in square, hoping the redness in her face hadn’t shown. It did.
“Your partner? Is she always this… “
“Rude?” Alex shook his head before following up.
“I’m sorry. Officer Farnetti is just …well she’s going through some things right now and she’s a bit distracted.”
“Ah…I see.” Beseema didn’t quite see that, but she was seeking to understand. She had noticed something inside herself that she wished she hadn’t. And with the grief being gently nudged aside, she was hit by a wave of guilt. How could she not focus on her father’s murder? She sighed. Alex reached into his jacket pocket.
“Here’s my card; I wrote Darla’s number on the back. We try not to get too involved when the detectives take over, but something tells me we…me and Darla…are both going to want to see this thing through; at least we can keep our eyes and ears open, okay?’
“Yes. I will be staying at my mother’s sister’s home for the next few days while arrangements are made.”
She smiled warmly, but tears began to fall. The thought of having someone interested in her and her father was too much to handle since that care squeezed through the thin gaps in cultural and even personal defenses; leaving her vulnerable. Alex knew enough not to even offer a hand without her offering first. He nodded and half-smiled.
“I just hope we can see some progress soon for everyone’s sake. Please give our condolences to your family?“ He looked over at Darla who was talking with one of the detectives. A few minutes went by before her return. Beseema was nowhere to be seen and Alex had a very frustrated look on her face.
“Now what the fuck was that all about, partner?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Darla looked back at the crime scene; ostensibly lost in thought.
“You know damn well what I mean. That’s the second time that you’ve walked away in the middle of a conversation with her.” Darla’s eyes flashed a microsecond of anger only to be replaced with frustration and embarrassment.
“She’s….oh fuck…” Darla bit her lip; recalling the visitation of sorts that she had only a few hours before.
“She’s just like your girl,” Alec said. His words might have seemed dismissive but Darla could only shrug in painful recognition.
“You’re my girl,” Aldo had said to Amani. And she had returned the declaration with one of her own.
“And you’re mine.” Not just hers alone, but Aldo was Amani’s ‘girl’ even if that part of her never emerged in anything but hidden places and secret times. Amani was the only one save for Alec who knew back then just who Aldo Farnetti really was.
Darla’s eyes widened and tears came quickly.
“I remember the look on your face when you talk about Amani. You’ve got the same look in your eyes now. Ms. Salaam…she’s more than just a victim, right?
“Yes….”
Darla stammered. She looked at the crime scene tape again; that protective part of her was outraged and saddened and almost furious that someone had killed the father of the girl in her dreams. Even at the thought and with Alex looking almost stone-silent at her confession, she was filled with shame and doubt. How could anyone care so soon for someone so new? How could she betray Amani’s memory over someone she barely knew? She shook her head.
“Yes? Is that all you can say? I’ve known you since Hector was a pup, kiddo. What’s going on inside there?” He tapped her shield with his right index finger. Darla winced and mewed an ‘ow,’ that complaint that comes not from pain but from surprise.
“I saw her, Alex…in a dream…last night…”
“You’ve had plenty of dreams of her since she died, Darla.” He would have added ‘what’s the big deal,’ but for the sad frown on Darla’s face.
“No…not just Amani….” Even at the mention of the woman’s name, she felt guilty, as if by including another in the same breath she was somehow dishonoring Amani.
“Oh…I get it….You had a dream about…Beseema?” He hadn’t meant to use her first name out of respect for the woman, but something urged him nevertheless. Darla nodded.
“She was …her eyes were sad…like today…it was like a sign, Alex….Something was telling me and I didn’t do a damn thing.” Darla shook her head angrily over the thought. Convention made no claim regarding how he interacted with his partner and best friend; he reached over and grabbed her hand and squeezed like the big-brother he should have been if the stork hadn’t mixed up houses and dates.
“Stop it, Darla. Quit kicking yourself. Nobody could have seen this coming. It was a dream….that’s all.
“But you should have seen her eyes, Alex.”
“I’m not saying it wasn’t real. But there’s real and then there’s real, you know? No one could have helped Mahmoud, but something tells me that someone with a higher grade of pay than even the Commish wants you….and ME….to look out for her, right?” Darla nodded reflexively.
“You gonna be okay? “
“It hurts, Alex.” Darla put her head down; tears fell on her blouse, turning dark blue to near black in droplet-shaped stains. At one time she might have shaken or paced a bit, but those ways seemed to be fading like so much colored paper in a window display.
“It’s gonna be okay.” Alex made a promise he wouldn’t have dared make to Beseema Abdel Salaam, but he was supremely confident, as some might say, that at least for his partner, no matter which form and substance it might take, that it was indeed going to be okay.
A few days later at Darla’s apartment…
Darla sat on the couch; her legs curled up under her with a dark maroon throw surrounding her.
The familiar cadence of a rap rap rap came at the door.
“It’s not locked. Come on in!” Darla shouted and a moment later the door opened, revealing a very tired Jo Bianchi.
“You up for company?” Her aunt held up a six pack of Blue Moon.
“I can come back later.” She smiled and shrugged her shoulders slightly.
“No….Please?” Darla patted the couch and Jo walked over, placing the six-pack on the coffee table. She walked into the kitchen and returned quickly with a bottle opener, holding it up.
“I can never tell who has twist off and who doesn’t, and I’ve decided I don’t want to take the chance of ripping the hell out of my thumb.” She laughed and popped the top off of two bottles of ale; handing one to Darla.
“How have you been, sweetie?” Darla shrugged and looked away slightly. Things were on the mend, so to speak, but she still needed the attention only Jo could give with understanding.
“It gets better,” Jo said, patting Darla on the arm.
“I know. It’s….”
“Something else….” Not a question. For Darla and even for Jo, it was always something else. The fatigue they both shared came from the predisposed Bianchi genes and the painful stress of combat. And the glaring loss they both shared as Louise Bianchi Farnetti rejected both her sister and her daughter. But it was another something that was on Darla’s mind.
“She’s still with you,” Jo said, patting her own heart. I know it hurts and you miss her.” Anyone else might have told Darla to let go of the only love she ever knew. That death was final and that she had to move on. That wasn’t Jo, however.
“You hear her voice and see her face and it hurts so much,” Jo said. Darla’s eyes were already filled with tears. She looked at Jo and back at the picture sitting on the entertainment center. Two soldiers; dusty and tired and still bright and in love. The photo was taken the morning Amani and Aldo died. Amani from an IED and Aldo from self-realization that brought home to Louise Farnetti the daughter she never knew she had.
“I’m sorry. You getting along?” Jo asked, rubbing Darla’s arm. Darla nodded and half-smiled even as the tears fell off her face.
“I worry about you, you know? And I’m always here to talk if you need to.”
“Why couldn’t you have been…?” Darla began and Jo shook her head.
“Your mother? No, honey. No.” She said it softly; not a rebuke so much as a plea for understanding. Darla shook her head back in argument.
“I mean it. You’ve been more of a mother to me in the past few years than…”
“No, Darla. I haven’t. I’m your mother’s sister.” She said it with confidence. Josephine; not Joseph or even Giuseppe Bianchi. She had gotten past feeling guilty about what Louise had termed ‘abandoning’ her family. Her youngest cousin Monica was like a niece to Jo and was just fine with having an aunt instead of an uncle; something she also imparted to her kids. Something which frustrated Louise to no end because she wanted company in her miserable, self-imposed solitude.
“She bore you. She raised you and your sisters without any help.” Jo gasped as she thought of how hard it had been for them all at Connie's passing. A gasp echoed by Darla, but quickly replaced with a near-furious headshake.
“That’s bullshit, Jo…You helped even when…. You helped but she wouldn’t …. Oh fuck…” Darla shook her head once again. Her mother’s hatred of the two of them made no sense. And as much as it hurt each of them, both bore the same family tendency to care for others more than self. It hurt Darla more to see Jo rejected than to feel her own rejection, and Jo felt the same way.
“She …she didn’t want my help.”
“But I saw…. We couldn’t have made it without…. “
“It wasn’t….. I wanted to hold you and Connie so bad…. I wanted to shake Louise… your Mom can be just as stubborn….”
“As you, Jo? You have the patience of fucking Job.”
“It’s……I love my sister… your mother.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Sure you do…. You have faith… I have faith…. We both hold onto the hope that your mother will change. Not because we want to but because she needs to know she’s loved. She can’t believe it.”
“But…
“How? It takes two to tango? Was that what you were going to ask?” Jo smiled; blinking back her own tears.
“We keep trying. I stop by the apartment every day, hon…. I knock on the door. Some days silence. Other days ‘go away.’ One afternoon she forgot herself and said Jo, but she couldn’t let that go, so she added, ‘Go away, Joseph.” Her face practically beamed.
“How can you…. How do you do that… let her do that to you? You’re okay with that?”
“Listen, honey. There was a time when she’d never bother to say anything. I think something is changing in her.”
“I don’t know….” Darla put her head down.
“I know it hurts for her to reject you, but you’ve got to keep trying. For her sake as much as for yours. She’s the only mother you have.” Jo patted Darla’s hand.
“But you…you’re mmm my….”
“If God had seen to do things differently, I’d still only be your aunt. I love you more than my own life, Darla, but I can’t make things what they aren’t. And you can’t give up. You’ve got a lot of your mother in you, and that’s good. She is stubborn, yes, but she’s also very brave, even if she has made some bad choices.”
Jo caught herself. Even while being hurt by Louise, Jo didn’t want that hurt to become Darla’s hurt; as similar as the two of them were in Louise’s eyes. If anything, she wanted to halve the pain; not increase it.
“You’ll be okay, no matter what, honey, but you might find things will be better still, if you reach out to her, you know?” Darla nodded with only a bit of reluctance.
“I know you’re afraid of being hurt, but can you look at things between you and her and see them worse than they already are?”
“Why are you so fu…. Why are you so confident after how she’s treated you?”
“A friend of ours….your mom and mine…. Was being treated the same way by her own mother the way your mom treats you….” She didn’t need to compound things by adding herself even it that was so
“I asked her how she could deal with the constant rejection. She said ‘You see her as she is. I see her as she can become.’ I try to do that with your Mom, and I think you can as well. And I’m here when things go wrong and I look forward to being here when you tell me or I tell you how right things went with her.”
“Why…. “
“Again, why? I don’t know why, but I can say this. It’s not hate that makes your mother treat us the way she does. It’s really about her being too ignorant in the middle of loving us as much as she can. If she can see us as we are and not what someone tells her we should be or some faith or some belief pushes her to save us from ourselves? She loves you. She doesn’t know enough to love you as good as she can, since she doesn’t think she’s …. Sorry….I’m going on like an idiot.”
Jo put her head down and began to cry.
“No you’re not. I understand.” Darla stammered.
“She just doesn’t know who she’s loving? I know. I saw it in her eyes when she sent me away. She wasn’t angry. She was sad. Not just for her, but for me, ‘cause she just doesn’t understand. I guess…”
Jo lifted her head and pulled her niece into a very tentative hug.
“I’m not your Mom, but I know I would be the happiest woman on earth if I was. Go talk to her. Make her understand she can be the happiest woman on earth.” Even as she spoke the words haltingly, they still rang true. Darla kissed Jo over and over on the cheek, weeping, but with more hope than she had ever had in her life….
At the precinct the following day…
“Hey, Partner….” Alex waved almost frantically at Darla when she walked into the break room. She hurried over and smiled.
“Easy does it, Bro. We’ve got the whole shift to talk,” she laughed. He grabbed her arm and squeezed It slightly.
“No… you gotta…. Oh shit.”
“What?”
“I just heard from the Captain. Mahmoud?”
“They got the guys? Tell me they got the guys.”
“No….not yet, but ….oh fuck…”
“What?” Darla closed her eyes; only for a moment, but long enough to see Beseema’s smile. She shuddered; her arm shaking enough to get Alex to let go.
“No, D…. I know what you’re thinking. She’s okay…. “ He looked away.
“She’s …okay? What’s wrong?”
“DHS got a hit on Mahmoud’s fingerprints. He was on the no fly list….”
“Oh no…no… He…”
“No…not that. …. Sorry.” Alex paused. Even the casual relationship they had with old man left him and Darla still grieving for someone they hardly knew.
“He….Apparently he defected…. In 79…” Alec blew out a frustrated breath. Darla stared at him in puzzlement.
“He might have run a deli in Queens, but back in 1979 he was one of the leading nuke experts in Iran.” He shook his head and Darla’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“Please … tell me he wasn’t….”
“No…that’s just it. He was being transported to a safe house somewhere when the van got hit. Two feds wounded and no Mahmoud.”
“No… God, no, Al….”
“Easy, D…. the Captain says the state department thought he just got iced. He was legit… But they thought he was dead. Jeez, Darla, I’m sorry.” He put his hand on her arm and rubbed it like a father might do when his daughter got teased at school.
“I know she means a lot to you, and that means he means a lot….me too. He was a nice guy. But Cap says the feds think things just caught up to him.”
“Not things, Alex People. Those guys who tried to take him out the first time? Remember? They had Kevlar vests. It wasn’t a robbery. It was a hit…. “ She bit her lip. She didn’t have to close her eyes this time; Beseema’s face appeared as if she was standing right there.
“That means if they were after him….they probably…. Oh God, no.” Darla’s face was a mask of horror at the thought.
“Cap says the feds are bringing her in….”
“Bringing her in?!!”
“For protection. She’s what…. Late twenties? Thirty tops? She wasn’t even born when her father came here. She may not know anything.”
“But the guys who killed him don’t know that. They might go after her thinking she knows something…” Darla began to thump her thigh with her left hand; a fist of frustration which was slowly turning to anger.
“Yeah. Well, they’ve sent someone over to the family home to bring her in…. it’s going to be alright.” Alec went to rub her arm once again, but Darla pulled away.
“No, Alex It’s not going to be alright until we know she’s okay.”
“I know, but it’s out of our hands. We gotta roll, D. Okay?” He put his hand out once more and Darla grabbed it; squeezing it in welcome.
“I know….I know….”
That evening... At the home of Louise Farnetti…
Darla stood at the doorway to her mother’s place. She took a deep breath, spoke a quick prayer and knocked on the door. A moment later Louise held the door open and motioned without word for Darla to enter.
“Hi, Mom. I was in the neighborhood after my shift, and I ….”
“I made a pot of coffee, “ Louise sad as she shuffled silently into the kitchen without waiting for an answer. A moment later she placed two mugs of coffee on the coffee table as she sat down on the sofa.
“Dark….no sugar?” Louise asked. Darla had recently taken to drinking her coffee black, but just her mother remembering was more important than getting it right. She picked up the mug and took a sip, wondering what to say.
“Your sister is visiting next month. Paul can’t come… his job, you know. But April and Aubrey are coming,” Louise said. It was if they had been talking all along. That the gulf between them not only had been spanned, but that it had never existed. Darla nodded. The word 'sister' scraped against her heart; as much for what it implied about herself as for what it said about the fractured Farnetti family and who was missing. By choice like Gina or by the absence of the youngest Farnetti sister.
“Aubrey is in eighth grade…. She’s on the soccer team, you know. I’ve got a picture on the entertainment center,” her mother said, pointing off to her side. Darla looked over to see the clutter of photos.
“That’s nice, Mom.”
The small talk was a beginning after nearly two years of estrangement, but it made no sense. Louise smiled weakly and coughed. The cough turned into a spasm and Darla found herself sitting next to Louise, patting her on the back. It was foreign, since they hadn’t embraced for years, and she felt almost out of place. The coughing subsided and Louise took a sip from the mug as if nothing had happened. She smiled weakly.
“April is taking ballet lessons.”
“That’s nice.” Darla nodded once again, at a loss to respond further.
“Paul got a promotion. You know how hard he works.” Darla knew her brother-in-law to be a good man who was devoted to Gina and the girls. She could only assume Paul worked hard, but she barely had spoken to the family when Gina joined in lockstep behind Louise to reject Darla. Things had warmed between her and Darla only recently with Jo's encouragement. Darla was about to speak when Louise turned away and looked out the front window; staring blankly.
“I want you to make sure your sister is okay.” She turned and faced Darla and sighed.
“I’m sorry. I missed your birthday…..” Darla spoke, trying to make sense of her mother’s sudden change. Louise turned away again; almost searching for words. When she turned back once more, her face was etched with pain, and not just from the coughing jag. Even still, she put her hand on Darla’s wrist and patted it.’’
“That’s okay. It’s okay.”
She shook her head, and for the only the second time in three years, Darla saw tears in her mother’s eyes as she continued to pat her wrist. She shrugged slightly and nodded; as if she had gained some inner strength.
Darla leaned closer and nodded back, giving her mother a permission she didn’t need to seek. Darla had prayed long and hard over the past several days. Between her talk with her Aunt Jo and the news about Mahmoud, she was overwhelmed, and she hoped she was ready for whatever her mother had to say.
But nothing she had sought prepared her for what her mother said next. Louise smiled; as kind and welcoming as Darla could remember as her mother spoke softly.
“The doctor told me…maybe….six months…. “ She paused as Darla’s fears played out on the look of fear that crossed her face.
“Osteo….bone cancer…. “
“What? No,” Darla practically shouted.
“Your Aunt Jo always told me to stop smoking. I guess I didn’t stop soon enough. It went from my lungs to ….” She strained to look over her shoulder at her back.
“Aunt…Jo?”
“My…my sister….” She bit her lip. Even the shame she felt brought little color to her ashen face.
“It’s okay…..really,” Louise patted Darla on the shoulder.
‘I…I am so….so…. sorry,” she said at last as she fell into Darla’s arms; weeping. Darla held her mother; feeling closer than she had ever been in her life as she just said over and over,
“I know, Mom….I know….”
Cinque - quelle tre parole (Five – Those Three Words)
At the precinct the next day…
Things were about as jumbled and mixed up for Darla as at any time in her life. She had been chasing down her dreams for years, but cautiously and without much hope. And now?
“They went to her place. It was tossed and there was no trace of her, Dar…” Alex shook his head; mostly in sympathy but also in fear for the woman in jeopardy. He put his hand on Darla’s shoulder.
“What…what if?”
“Let’s not go there just yet, Dar. Maybe she made like the wind, you know? She had to think something was up. The idiots over at NHS should have been in front of this after they figured out who her father was. But maybe they’ve got her on ice? You know they wouldn’t share anything with us even if it killed ‘em.”
“I know, but not… I’m so afraid.”
Alex patted Darla on the back. If his partner was anything, it sure wasn’t afraid. She was maybe as brave as anyone he knew. But fear for the woman? And now with her mother as sick as she was? How the hell was she supposed to handle that as well?
“I called my pastor, and she’s got the prayer chain going for your mom.”
Darla turned and frowned. She wanted to believe in miracles. Perhaps her allotment for miracles was used up when they reconciled? But even if that was the case, there was nothing she could do about it now. Either her mother was going to recover or not, and that was just too much to think about. She shook her head and put her hand to her face in shame. As if being human was somehow shameful.
“Hey, Farnetti? Break a nail?” Alex turned to see Marty Sipowitz standing at the end of the row of lockers with a very mean grin on his face. He took a step toward the guy when a hand reached out and stopped him.
“I got this, Al…. take care of our girl,” Lisa Kovic said before turning around.
“Am I supposed to be scared, Kovic. And you of all people,” Sipowitz laughed. Lisa smiled and shook her head.
“I’m a peaceable kind of gal, Sipowitz.” She might have been peaceable, although her Army Ranger training would have easily handled the fool. But she had technology on her side as well.
“You might want to rethink how stupid you’re being. Between me and a couple others, we’ve got you on our phones harassing Farnetti here. Now you could just keep it up and wait for IAD to tap you on the shoulder or you could just shut the fuck up and join the human race, you know?” She looked back over at Alex and Darla and smiled.
“You are now on notice, dickhead! You and Russell just stop the shit and we’ll all sing Kumbaya at the next Christmas party."
“You wouldn’t!” Sipowitz said, looking only a bit smug. Russell had walked in at the beginning of the exchange and he put his hands up as if to say, ‘just kidding.’ Lisa held her phone up and grinned.
“All I have to do is hit ‘send’ and you and IAD will be stuck together like Velcro for a very long time.”
“You….wouldn’t….” He repeated; this time weakly. He turned to his partner in crime and Russell held his hands up once again.
“You’re on your own, Sip. Hey, Farnetti? No hard feelings?”
Darla wasn’t mad at either of them at that point, but the hurt of being betrayed by one of her own would leave things very difficult for some time to come. She smiled weakly and shook her head no.
“Just say the word, Sipowitz.” He eyed her phone.
“Don’t even try it. I already sent a copy to Papa Jerico and Stinson and Capaldi. We’ve got her back.” Sipowitz looked back and forth between her and Alex. Lisa was satisfied that he was sufficiently remorseful, but Alex stared at him and shook his head. Either way, the rest of the precinct for the most part indeed had Darla’s back.
Sipowitz nodded meekly and walked around the corner to his own locker. The loud slam of the locker door was followed by some mumbling and Russell’s voice.
“Fun’s fun, Sip, but Farnetti is one of us.”
“One of us? Maybe you, but not me."
Lisa was about to shout out an expletive when Russell practically shouted,
“You know, Sip? Kovic is right. You really are a dickhead…..” The locker room grew quiet until Capaldi’s voice came from the doorway.
“But you’re our dickhead, Sip….” His comment was accompanied by mock applause and Sipowitz walking back around. As he passed them he shrugged in defeat before walking out of the locker room.
Lisa turned to Alex and nodded again.
“Like I said, take care of our girl, Al, ‘kay?” She reached across the bench and shook his hand; partners in protection in a way.
“You got it, Kovic!” Darla raised her head and smiled at the two. It was going to be hell for some time to come, but she realized in that moment that everything would be alright.
Neptune Diner, Astoria, Queens, NY, late afternoon….
Darla sat in the booth looking around nervously.
“I’m sorry we got yanked into a double, but DeGregorio’s over at the hospital holding her wife’s hand waiting for Helen Junior to make her first appearance.” Alex laughed.
“What a world to come into….” Darla’s voice trailed off.
“Hey, Dar. I know it’s hard, but you’re proof that the world is a good place, right? And your Aunt Jo? And your Mom finally…” He stopped in mid-sentence; fearing that the good of the reconciliation was still lost on the pain of Louise Farnetti’s impending demise.
“No, Alex…you’re right. I hate that she’s…..” Darla bit her lip as tears spilled off her chin into her coffee cup.
“But we would never…. I got my Mom back, Al, and I’m not going to stop fighting for her. Or….”
“No news is good news, right, partner?” Alex looked out the window; searching for words of comfort. Darla hardly knew Beseema, but it was clear as crystal that she had it bad.
“No news is just no fucking news, Al….” Darla snapped at him. He shook his head in apology but she reached across the table and patted his wrist.
“I’m sorry. She’s probably someplace safe….. I hope she’s okay, and that’s what matters the most.”
“No, Darla, that’s not what matters the most,” Alex said; his turn to disagree.
“You don’t have to explain or make excuses or anything, Dar. I understand.”
“Am I crazy, Al? Really. Tell me the truth. I’m fucking…..I’m crazy.”
“Crazy about a woman you hardly know?” He paused. No secrets between partners, right?
“I’ve got….I’ve got a crush on someone I hardly know, Darla. I…..I haven’t told anyone about her, and I can’t even say her name, but I know exactly how you feel.” He didn’t know exactly how Darla felt, but then again none of us can know that of another, but we can come close. Alex trusted Darla with everything, but he didn’t trust himself enough to tell her about the woman he had come to love just by one or two casual meetings and a handful of conversations about her with his partner.
“I know, Alex.” Darla was almost deadpan but for the tears in her eyes. Darla Farnetti cared about Alex just like a sister from another mother might. And she treasured his care and love as much as she treasured the care and love of the only other person who understood. It seemed almost fated that the two…. That the two might come together.
“You don’t know, Darla. I haven’t even told my own mother about her. I trust you, Darla, but I’m….” He turned away.
“Jeez, Al…I’m an officer in the New York Police Department. I see things and pay attention, just like you do; even when others miss the details entirely.” She paused and laughed softly.
“What’s so funny?”
“Not funny, Alex. Adorably cute. You are absolutely incapable of hiding your feelings. A closet Italian?”
“No way!”
“Way, bro. Every time I mention her name, I see the look in your eyes.”
Darla wondered, understandably, how a red-blooded, dyed-in the-wool he-man might be attracted to the woman in question. But she was almost selling her partner short. Alex Petrovic was straightforward and had integrity oozing out of his ears. Maybe it was because of who…. Maybe it was because Darla needed her own eyes open to the possibility of acceptance beyond herself. She sighed and smiled.
“She’s as good as it gets, Al…. I know it and you know it and I know that you know it, so stop hiding, okay”
“I’m not hiding…. I’m being ….prudent.”
“You’re not hiding….it’s pretty obvious, since you couldn’t keep a secret if your life depended on it.” His life depended on it, alright. We may get to choose the person we date or even marry, but none of us gets to choose who we fall for. Alec hardly knew the woman in question and yet had it as bad for her as Darla had it for Beseema.
“No secrets, Al. Not just because we’re partners, but because you owe it to yourself to tell her exactly how you feel. I’m sure she can handle it.” It was Darla’s turn to look out the window, and she gazed in the general direction of where the woman might be at that moment. No secrets; now and from then on in. She turned back and smiled.
“You got her number?” Alex shook his head no, and Darla patted his wrist once again; this time in encouragement. She grabbed the small note pad and pen from her breast pocket and scribbled quickly.
“Her work number…. Her department, Al. And her home number. Give her a call, okay?”
“I don’t know what to say, Darla. Seriously. I have no fucking clue.”
“Okay. How about ‘Hello?’”
“You know what I mean,” he shook his head.
“I know, Al…I’m sorry. Let me tell her to at least expect a call? The rest is up to you, but for starters, just say, ‘hi?’” He shook his head nervously.
“You faced down guys with guns and stuff over there, Al. She understands. And she’ll understand now. Just tell her to give me a call if she has any questions,” Darla teased. Al’s face grew red and she patted his wrist for a third time.
“I’m sorry…. For real this time. She’s about as wonderful anyone I know, and if anyone deserves happiness it’s her,” she paused as tears came to her eyes once again.
“And I can’t think of anyone who can make her happy as much as you can, partner. I love her and I want the best for her, and right now? The best? Maybe the best for all time? It’s you, Officer Petrovic.”
“I…. don’t know what to say,” Al begged even as he blushed once again.
“Just say, “Excuse me? Would you like to go out for coffee or pizza? My treat?’”
“You don’t mind?” Al shook his head; so modest and even fearful as he completely missed Darla’s words for the past several minutes. Unworthy? Ashamed, even?
“You have every right in the world to be happy, Al, and she has every right to be happy, too. Call her, okay?” Al looked at Darla and then down at the piece of paper on the table.
and just below,
“You sure?” As in are you sure I’m good enough? Am I okay? Do you trust me?
“You’re my partner, and you both are my best friends. Go ahead, Al. Call her.” He sighed and she smiled again, patting his wrist for a fourth and final time.
“She’ll be fine, Al. And since I’m calling her when I get home? It’s more than okay, okay?” Darla looked down at her phone, anticipating her call to her aunt. As she went to pick it up, the familiar tones of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons startled her. She looked at the display. 718 area code, so it was either local or a cell. She tapped ‘receive’ softly.
“Hello?”
“Hello? May I… May I speak with Officer Farnetti?” Darla had only heard the voice a handful of times, but she recognized it immediately. Her heart skipped the metaphorical beat as she answered.
“This…this is Darla….Officer Farnetti…. Who is calling?” She knew already, but the woman spoke.
“This….We…. This is Beseema … Beseema Abdel-Salaam…..”
“Yes?” Darla grew anxious in an instant; that heart skipping a beat feeling seemed to overwhelm her.
“Officer… Farnetti? Please listen carefully?” Darla’s eyes grew wide and Alex tapped her wrist to get her attention. She mouthed ‘Beseema’ to him even as her attention was pulled from his gesture.
“Go ahead,” she said. A few moments of nodding and shaking her head quickly followed by her looking up slightly; almost in prayer.
“You have my word, Miss….Abdel-Salaam,” she said. Darla bit her lip as the soft voice of the woman was replaced abruptly by a dial tone. She laid the phone on the table and took a gulp of coffee. Her face was a mixture of fear and anxious hope as she turned toward her partner once again.
“What the….did she say where she was? Is she okay? What…” Alex began but Darla moved her hand slowly downward in an oddly calm assurance.
“She’s okay. She is safe,” Darla said even as she breathed out a semi-relieved sigh; accompanied by the tears that began to well in her eyes.
“What’s wrong, Dar?” Alex asked; the anxiety in his expression almost mirrored the look on Darla’s face.
“Oh….nothing, Al…. but…”
“But what?”
“I’m…. I can’t…” She looked out the window; searching somehow for a bit of clarity in the midst of the chaos her life had become.
“You ….you want to know more…. You want to know why?”
“I hate this. This is so crazy. I don’t understand, Alex. I really don’t, and it hurts.”
“You hate that you don’t know if she really is safe? Or that you don’t know where she is? Or maybe because it’s just one more thing you don’t have control over?” He shook his head; it wasn’t meant to be a rebuke, but she took it that way none the less.
“Is that so wrong, Alex? I don’t know what the hell is going on….not out there,” she snapped but quickly calmed and patted her chest.
“I don’t know what the hell is going on in here. It’s like Amani all over again, and I feel so….selfish.”
“Because? Why the fuck is caring about her selfish?
“That’s just it, Alex. It’s all about me. Not Beseema….Not even Amani….it’s about me. How I feel…I don’t want to feel this way, Al. I hate it,” she sighed and turned away slightly as the tears began to drift down her cheek.
“You don’t want to love the new because you’re afraid she’ll be taken away like the old? Like Amani… like…” he paused as her eyes widened once again in sad realization.
“It’s okay, partner.” Alex nodded and patted her on the wrist once again. He pointed to the untouched glass of water on the table in front of her.
“Slow, Darla….slow,” he urged as she took a long sip of water.
“You’re ….I’m sorry this hurts so much, Dar. First Amani and now the woman you don’t even know? But it’s not just about them. You…”
“Mom….I’m so scared, Alex…. We just …”
“I know, kid.”
Jo Bianchi’s apartment later that evening….
Jo had just settled into the sofa; an old dog-eared copy of Lewis’ The Great Divorce opened up by a book-spreader in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Her cell phone rang. Placing both book and mug on the table in front of her, she clicked the phone on.
“Yes? Oh…. Alex. How are you?” Jo smiled as she tilted her head in anticipation.
“Why, yes…. Are you…oh please, Alex. You’re my niece’s best friend.” She laughed but quickly added,
“I can’t think of anyone I respect more than you, Alex…. Really!” She nodded as if he was standing in front of her.
“Go ahead. I’m sorry. I really am serious. You’ve been as much a member of her family as I have. Probably as much a brother as anyone could be. And you’ve had her back for a long time.” Jo hadn’t meant to get so personal, and certainly didn’t want to embarrass him, so she was glad he wasn’t face to face with her. Her nostrils flared and her face got hot.
“Yes….Oh God, if it weren’t for you?”
She sighed. It was almost like Alex was a brother to Darla, since they both were brave and strong and completely insecure about their character. Jo shook her head and blinked back a few tears. As confident as she was in nearly every other part of her life, she still remained vet shaky in the relationship department.
“I’d say I can’t thank you enough, but you already know how much I appreciate how much you care for Darla. But even then? “ She paused.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but there’s almost no need to thank…. Yes…. Exactly…. Because you care for her like she was your own….” Jo smiled, trying at the same time to keep from crying.
“Oh, gosh, yes. You are like one of the family….” She immediately regretted those words.
“Anyway, to answer your question? A day game at Citi Field sound pretty non-threatening to me.”
“Damn,” she thought; nearly blurting it out. Even talking about non-threats was threatening.
“Ah…. I’ve got an evening off next Sunday. Hell, I’ll even spring for the overpriced hot dogs and twelve dollar …oh shit… I’m sorry…. You didn’t? Okay…. What? Pat La Frieda's after the game? Uh….okay….”
Loud sports bar equals an innocuous, who-cares-if-we-can’t hear meal. She breathed out a sigh relief.
“Okay… noon? Uhh…okay… See you here … yeah… Love you…” She clicked off her cell and hoped the last two words were only from a doting aunt to her niece’s best friend. And then she curse herself for not wanting more than being just a good friend to a man she had grown to love.
At Thursday morning; a brief moment for coffee while on patrol…
“You hear anything more, kid” Darla winced from the endearment. She wasn’t a kid at all, but she felt like one. Like she was still a little boy waiting for her father to get home to hear of how bad a boy she was. Alex picked up on her frustration.
“I’m sorry Darla. This has to be so hard.”
“It’s… that’s alright. I feel like I am behaving like a kid. But it’s just so hard not knowing….”
“You want a lift to your mother’s place?”
“Maybe drop me off at the florist’s up the street. I need to walk for a bit okay?” Alex nodded and started the cruiser. A few minutes later they were at curbside across the street from the florist.
“Give me a call or maybe we can talk before shift tomorrow, okay.” With that Alex waved and drove off.
At Louise Farnetti’s apartment, a while later…
“I’m stuck, Mom.”
“I don’t know what you expect me to do about it,” Louise snapped. Darla frowned but put her hand on her mother’s arm.
“I’m not expecting you to do anything.” Darla said but quickly added,
“I’m sorry. I just want someone… “ She paused for a moment.
“To just listen, Mom.”
“You have Jo?” Louise asked ; torn between relief and jealousy over her sister’s love for Darla.
“Yes, but…”
“I know. I don’t deserve… You should have had….” Darla shocked her mother and relied,
“Yes, Mom, I should have…. But up …up to the point where this all started coming out? You tried to be there for me. I know this hasn’t been easy to understand.”
“But you’re my… I should have understood. I should have accepted you.”
“We can’t…. we don’t need to relive the past, Mom. I’m just glad….” Darla paused and shook her head.
“It’s not fair. We’re just beginning to get to know each other.” Darla had resisted the urge to cry. The urge? The need to weep over what had been wasted and nearly irretrievably lost had kept her walking around the neighborhood until she had the strength to deal with the loss to come. But the tears began to spill off her cheek onto Louise’s wrist.
“Aldo…oh damn…. Darla…” Louise put her hand to her face; she was blushing and she had tears in her eyes.
“It’s okay, Mom. You’ve been calling me Aldo all your life….”
“No, D…Darla…it’s not okay…it never will be okay. I want you…. You are my daughter. I just took too damn long to tell you…”
“I know Mom. That’s why it hurts so much. Because you know and now….”
“But don’t you see? If it weren’t for this… “ Louise used her hand in a broad gesture. She touched the scarf that covered her bare scalp. Darla noticed that her mother’s skin had become almost translucent.
“If I didn’t get sick I wouldn’t become desperate. And if I didn’t become desperate I would never have realized just what I have.” She smiled and touched Darla’s cheek.
“But now…. “
“But now we finally have each other….”
“Mommy…” Darla gasped. She wiped the tears from her face and kissed Louise on the palms of her hands.
“Mommy…. Don’t go….Please,” she said haltingly.
Louise pulled Darla into an awkward hug. Mother and daughter at last, for however long that would last.
“I will fight this as long as I can. I didn’t even care when the doctor….when….” Louise pulled back and held Darla at arms’ length and smile.
“But now?” She shook her head and embraced her daughter again; stroking Darla’s hair while she softly repeated something Darla hadn’t heard since she was little.
“Mommy’s here… shhhh….shhhh….. Mommy’s here.”
Pat LaFrieda's Chop House, Sunday afternoon...
“Not as loud as I expected,” Jo said as she looked around the restaurant. The Sunday evening crowd hadn’t arrived, so to speak and the place was half-empty; leaving her wondering what to say now that there was a very good chance she would be heard.
“Yeah,” Alex said as he stared at his menu. He took a gulp of water and turned his attention to her.
“The game was good,” he said.
“Yes.”
“DeGrom is a great pitcher.”
“Yes he is.” Jo turned her own attention to the menu; staring absent-mindedly at the drink selection. But even a beer in front of a recovering alcoholic wasn’t a good thing. Their waitress returned to the table.
“Need more time?”
“How about a coffee for me and a Stella for my friend?” Alex said. As the waitress walked away, he smiled.
“I know you want to be polite. Thanks, but I’m okay. That is quite considerate of you, though.”
“Too many missteps with others, I guess. “
“We’re adults, Jo. I guess we both know the score….how many years have I run around in circles?” His half-frown turned to a wry grin.
“You’re awfully anxious, and I’m sorry to put you in that position, but you …. You can relax. I do bite?” An odd turn of an old phrase. Instead of being taken aback, Jo smiled and arched an eyebrow in thought.
“I take that to mean you’re dangerous? Unsafe? Or just marginally playful?” She laughed.
“It’s rude to ask a woman her age, but since you already told me a while back that you’re seven years older than me? You’re still a very attractive woman,” he chuckled.
“Oh, I’m a joke, eh?” She said, but the smile on her face grew.
“You can’t kid a kidder, Miss Bianchi! I know you’re not insulted and I also know you don’t actually mind being complimented. As someone once said…sorta? ‘You should be complimented…and often by someone who knows how to compliment.’” To that point, the conversation had been playful, but the implications of the paraphrase made Jo very uncomfortable; both for what it said but also what it didn’t say.
“So, yes, Miss Bianchi. You’re older than me and that doesn’t make a damn bit of difference. And you’re attractive, which I hope means more than a bit of difference to you.” He reached out and touched her hand; sending an odd jolt up her arm. She pulled her hand back and pursed her lips; putting her head down.
“But we have to talk, okay?”
“Talk? I thought we were talking,” she said; stopping in mid-sentence as she realized she was speaking out loud instead of just thinking.
“Yes, but I guess it’s that we need to talk….more.” He laughed, but his expression was almost flat.
“I’m sorry, Jo, but between the odd dinner with Darla or meeting you at a police thing she invited you to, we’ve only really known each other through her. But that’s just it.” He paused and it was his turn to be nervous.
“Alex…uh….” Jo stammered, putting up her hand.
“Where are you going with this?” She looked away. She knew exactly where he was going, and as much as she wanted to follow, she was afraid. He touched her hand again.
“For starters? I’m sitting here with you after a very long afternoon in the hot sun and instead of being pulled again into wanting a drink I’m happy and relaxed. Maybe that’s not a good way of putting it. First, one’s an addiction and the other?” He grabbed her hand gently.
“Yes, you are intoxicating, I guess, but that’s not what I really want to say.”
“You don’t know me…Alex? You don’t know me one bit.”
“No, I don’t. That’s usually why people start dating. To get to know each other?”
“Is that what this is? A date?” Jo shook her head slightly; almost denying her denial. She tried to smile, but her face wouldn’t cooperate; leaving her with a disappointing half-frown. Alex took his attention away from her hand and looked up; seeing her frustration.
“If you don’t mind. Yes. A date. The first of several I hope.” He smiled warmly; leaving her feeling awkward and ashamed.
“You know about me, Alex,” she apologized.
“And? I’m not good at short-term memory stuff on occasion, but I still seem to remember saying something about you being attractive.”
“You’re just saying that…”
“Stop, Jo,” he said abruptly. He went to continue, but the waitress had returned; placing their drinks on the table.
“Need more time, hon?” The waitress said with a flirty wink. Alex handed her the menus.
“Two steaks, medium rare with mushrooms. She’ll have the rice and zucchini and I’d like the garlic mashed potatoes and asparagus.” He nodded at Jo and smiled back at the waitress - Danni by her name tag.
“Thanks.” Danni walked away and Alex returned his attention to Jo’s hand; stroking it gently.
“How’d you know?” Jo watched as the waitress walked into the kitchen and then back at Alex.
“Just a guess.” He shrugged his shoulders and smiled.
“Anyway…where was I? Oh, yes. Queens, if I recall. A nice restaurant with an attractive lady.” At the word lady, Jo pulled away with a start. It had taken years getting used to people finally using the correct pronouns since she had felt inauthentic even after her friends got it right. But this was way too much to take in. Lady?
“You… I don’t think I can do this, Alex.” Jo got up and walked quickly to the restroom. After a few minutes she returned and sat down quietly; her face red from God knows what.
“Ironic,” Alex said with a soft laugh. Jo shook her head; embarrassed yes but coming out of it so to speak.
“Channeling Bugs Bunny? Ain’t it?” She forced a laugh, but her face darkened.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that you’re having such a hard time accepting yourself… at least today…. And this place must have known.”
“I don’t get it? What?” She shook her head but followed his gesture as he pointed to the restroom.
“Even they know.” She continued to look puzzled until she noticed the sign on the door.
“Ladies Room” Her face remained red but she laughed a bit. Alex smiled back at her and said finally,
“Ahhhhh….ain’t it the truth?”
After returning from a hasty retreat to the Ladies Room, Jo sat across the table from Alex; nervous and almost ashamed. She looked away; wishing she was anywhere than sitting with a man who wielded a very sharp emotional scalpel.
“I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intent to make you uncomfortable. But you have to know for your benefit as much as mine how I care. You’ve spent two lifetimes sacrificing your own needs for everyone else. Hell,” he paused. Patting her on the wrist, he continued.
“Darla looks up to you….in this case mistakenly. She’s on the fast track for a lifetime achievement award for self sacrifice because you have almost never said yes to your own needs. Except for one big one that she shares. Thank God for her that you did what you had to do to be yourself. I bet she’d still be over there …Aldo instead of Darla. That’s how much you’ve meant to her.”
“I didn’t…. this is…. was my choice,’ she gasped, as if she had made the worst mistake on behalf of herself and her sister’s child.
‘No, Ms. Bianchi… you may have chosen the manner of help, but the need to be you was very real. Is real. “ She went to pull away. He gently grabbed her wrist and held fast. She relented and he released her.
“Jo? You can leave… here….me….” He paused again, considering his next word. He sighed.
“Us? Yes… You can leave, but I wish you would stay.” She looked away once again.
“I … this is all so new to me, Alex.”
“I know. I’m not exactly selfish myself, or so my sponsor says. I drink…. Other than your niece, my only real friend since I started wearing any uniform pushed me out of the way and got himself a ticket to heaven via an IED. I have to deal with me still being alive while his two kids grow up without a Daddy. I’m not worth that, Jo. I never was.” Jo began to cry. The waitress had walked up to the table.
“I can come back,” she said nervously.
“Ah…. Two coffees and a piece of cheesecake? Thanks.” He turned and smiled.
“We’re a couple of misfits, Ms. Bianchi. A matching set of broken, caring human beings. Whatyasay we explore where that will take us?” Her eyes widened in surprise even after all he had said, but she wasn’t prepared for what he had to say next.
“I’m pretty sure I’m already in love with you, so let’s get the do you even like me out of the way?”
“I…I already like you, Alex….I…. I just don’t know if I’m ready to have anyone….” She gasped. The waitress came back with the coffee and cheesecake.”
“You like?” He pointed to the plate and she tilted her head a bit as she wiped her face with her sleeve.
“Do you like cheesecake?” She nodded slightly.
“Well, there’s something to start out with. Maybe we can use coffee and cheesecake to justify a long term dating arrangement….” She nodded at his suggestion but wondered where he was going with that.
“Well, at least until you let me love you.” He hadn’t meant to make her cry harder but neither was he surprised when she burst into tears. He patted her on the wrist as the waitress arrived at the table with a sympathetic pout.
“Is ….Is everything….alright?”
“Well, could we have the check please? And yes.” He looked over at Jo. Her hand was covering her face but she had grabbed his wrist with her free hand, holding fast. He turned back to the waitress. Looking at her name tag he smiled broadly and spoke.
“And yes… Danni? Everything is just fine!"
The precinct a few days later…
"Farnetti? Petrovic? In my office.” Darla went to wave ‘just a sec’ when the woman repeated,
“In my office….Now!’ Alex was already walking through the doorway when Darla stood up and hurried along as if she might be shut out. She stepped into the office and nearly bumped into a tall man standing next to Captain Sayers.
“Officers Farnetti and Petrovic? Lou Chastain.” Captain Sayers paused as if in thought over what more to say but simply added ‘Washington.”
“This about Mahmoud? Alex folded his arms in a ‘go ahead; entertain me’ pose. Darla flinched at the mention of their friend’s name; wondering if his daughter was safe…or even alive.
"Quick version? The man you knew as Mahmoud Al-Salaam was not a grocer from Iran.” Alex shook his head and grinned.
“Ya think? We know he was important Mr…. Chastain?”
“He was part of an Iranian research and development team out of one of the several nuke facilities they began in the mid-seventies. When the Shah was kicked out, several of the scientists saw the hand writing on the wall and fled. He was over here at Brookhaven until 2009. The story about the safe house was set up so he’d ‘disappear.’”
“He met his wife here?” Darla asked.
“He…he never married.”
“What?”
“Beseema Abdel-Salaam was his handler. She’s….” Chastain hadn’t given them any real reason to trust him and his expression seemed to indicate that the narrative was taking a detour into the far-fetched. He didn’t disappoint.
“Her name is Farouk. She’s …Mossad….Get this….she’s Palestinian. Her grandmother on her father’s side was Sabra but she’s Muslim, and she was recruited when she was seventeen….really bright and tough as nails.” Darla’s heart sank. The woman had lied. She had been lying all along.
“So…” Alex stretched the word out as long as he could before asking,
“Where the fuck does that leave us?”
“She’s gone missing. We had expected to debrief her after the first attack.” Darla winced. The first attack nearly got her and Alex killed and there should never have been a second.
“Yeah…about that?” Alex interjected.
“The two guys who jumped us were obviously not there to rob the deli…. Why the fuck didn’t you just put them both somewhere safe? And where the fuck was the ….Mossad? This is like a badly written episode of some NCIS knockoff. The girl?”
“Mahmoud wasn’t supposed to leave home that day. She had arranged for a safe pickup but nobody showed up that morning. He slipped out while she was on the phone with the local office and it only took him five minutes to walk to the store from their apartment.”
“Holy fuck. Somebody tip them off, Mr. Chastain?”
“Yes; we’re still looking into that.” His expression did little to mask his suspicion.
“You can’t think Beseema had anything to do with that?” Darla practically pled.
“I worked with her….I vouched for her. You’re not saying anything I haven’t thought of myself. She and the good Doctor were like daughter and father for almost seven years, but anything can happen in this business.” Chastain shook his head and turned away.
“What….what happens next?” Darla shook her head in disbelief; too much coming at her too fast to absorb.
“Your captain says she’s called you, Officer Farnetti? All you can do at this point is urge her to come in from the cold so we can sort this out, okay?” Darla nodded slightly, but she didn’t trust the whole story and wondered just how she’d react if Beseema did contact her.
“Just keep us ….informed. Whatever she says or even what you may think she said or means; anything you can glean. The doctor was an asset not easily replaced and we won’t really know what to think until we talk to Agent Farouk, okay?”
It wasn’t okay. And once again Darla lapsed into a helpless funk. She nodded again before she and Alex walked out. A few minutes later they were in the squad car and on the road.
“I don’t know what to think, Al…. this…this is too much.” Three blocks had Darla all cried out. She stared out the car window blankly. Alex reached over and rubbed her shoulder wondering just what made all the women in her family so tenacious.
“We’ll figure this out, kid….”
Louise Farnetti’s apartment that evening…
A knock came at the door; startling Louise enough that she dropped the paperback she was reading into her lap. She rose and walked to the door.
“Just…just a moment… “ she called out before losing her balance enough to lean against the table that graced one side of the narrow foyer. She recovered and opened the door; albeit unsteadily.
“Mom?” Darla stood nervously at the doorway. A look of relief quickly turned to frustrated sadness.
“You haven’t returned my calls.” If not for their near glorious recent reconciliation, she would have lapsed into self-doubt. So she assumed the worst; especially as she gazed into her mother’s eyes; eyes which lacked focus but with a slight gleam that seemed to speak peace to Darla’s heart.
“I… I lost my phone,” her mother said almost in shame. Darla stepped closer and drew her mother into a hug; enthusiastic at first, but with then much more care. Her mother felt so light.
“It’s okay, Mom…it’s okay..” she repeated as she looked behind her down the hall at the short row of apartments.
“You can ask Mrs. Ruiz next time. She said she’s happy to help.”
“I just don’t want to be trouble to anyone.”
At one time that might have been distinct possibility. Years of disappointment led to bitterness, which in turn led to a mean spirit manifested on an almost daily basis. But things had changed dramatically and suddenly in the midst of cancer; the illness destroying her body while repairing her soul.
She smiled weakly and pulled away; a sense of unworthiness that inserted itself between her and her child. Darla redoubled her efforts; albeit more gently as she noted the increased translucence in her mother’s countenance.
“Let me make you some tea, okay?”
Louise nodded as Darla guided her back to the couch.
“Move over, Luchiano,” Darla said to the black tomcat that had stretched out across two of the three cushions. The cat purr-mewed and quickly accommodated the request; hopping on the armrest closest to the wall. Darla eased her mother down onto the couch and covered her lap with the ever-present crocheted throw. Darla walked into the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with two mugs of Sleepytime.
“I’m going to drop by in the mornings on my off days and every evening from now on.” She smiled at Louise and nodded; expecting a reply.
“Honey….” Louise placed her tea on the side table and touched Darla’s face.
“Not much longer….” She smiled back and nodded while arching her eyebrow ever so slightly. Darla shook her head no.
“It’s okay. I was talking to your sister this morning. It’s time." Darla immediately thought of her older sister Gina, thankful that their recent reconciliation prompted Gina to plan a trip east to help with Louise's care. But the look of almost whimsy meant something else entirely.
Louise looked past the now sleeping tom to the other side table at a picture. A photo of her from happier times that displayed a much younger Louise Farnetti and three children. The oldest was a pretty girl in her mid-teens. The middle child was a boy of about seven but anyone would be sorely pressed to ‘see’ anyone but a girl even then. The youngest was a girl of about six. The last picture of her before illness took her to a safer if much removed place in time and eternity.
Darla blinked back tears as she remembered just how much she missed her baby sister. Louise noted Darla’s tears and touched her cheek once again.
“Connie is very proud of you.” Darla at one time would have chalked up her mother’s sentimental sigh to the disease, but who could say if Connie wasn’t talking to their mother. She smiled bravely as she processed just what it meant for her late baby sister to be proud. She couldn’t think of a thing.
“You can have my Barbies, Aldo. I promise I won’t tell,” Connie had said only days before her death. Darla breathed in; her nose already beginning to congest in anticipation. Connie was taken instead of her. Amani died halfway around the world while she was left behind. And Beseema was god knows where if she was alive at all. Between the sweet memory of her sister and the guilt she still felt and the first ever “I know” look from Louise, Darla’s defenses began to fail, and she fell into her mother’s arms; weeping.
And Louise echoed what Darla merely saw and spoke softly while stroking her daughter’s hair.
“I know…. I know,” she said and added one more word that shoved the remainder of the girl’s armor aside as she said, ‘Darla.”
Jo’s apartment that same night…
Jo stood in her bathroom, staring at her naked reflection in the mirror over the vanity. Twenty-some-odd years past the last of her surgeries, one might look at her and see a plain if attractive woman. Had she always looked a bit like an older Hilary Swank? She certainly resembled the actress in that she wasn’t much on top, as her best girlfriend Maddy had said about them both.
And while some might have noted on other, more modest occasions , how attractive her countenance was, Jo missed the pretty and went straight to the plain. She grabbed a hairbrush off the vanity and laughed. Slowly pulling hair tufts from the brush, she spoke in an almost sing-song voice.
“He loves me….he loves me not…he loves me….”
She dropped the brush onto the bathroom floor and stepped into the shower. Easing back, she turned the handles until the steam filled up the bathroom. She grabbed the nearly new Dove Beauty Bar from the shelf and began to lather up even as she laughed at the irony. She shook her head and began the mantra once again.
“He loves me….He loves me not….he loves me.”
She closed her eyes and recalled the smile that Alex seemed to wear nearly all the time; replaced for the most part once and awhile by the look of care that made him so handsome. A man who might see himself to be only plain had he cared about such things. A man whose compassion was duplicated In such a wonderful way in Jo, had her disdain for herself not obstructed her view.
“He loves me….he loves me not…. He loves me”
She opened her eyes and cast her vision down at her naked body. The water seemed to almost cascade off her small breasts; unhindered as the stream flowed down her stomach. The sensation was almost teasing since the feelings dulled and then almost ceased as the water fell off her sex. She gasped at one more disappointment and resumed the chant; almost musical tones mixed with soft sobs as she concluded,
“He loves me not….”
With one last gasp she dropped to the floor of the shower and leaned against the wall and sobbed freely, feeling completely unworthy of love and believing quite erroneously that Alexander Dmitri Petrovic would never love Josephine Marie Bianchi.
At the precinct a few days later...
Alex lazily reclined at the far end of the row of lockers in an old wooden and leather rolling desk chair he had rescued during the precinct rehab earlier that year. He had a cold, unopened can of Dr. Pepper against the left side of his face; less from sinus pain and more from frustrated pain over the lack of movement in whatever his relationship with Jo was choosing for them both. Easy shifts contrasted hard with difficult navigations in the seas of romance for him with Jo but especially for Darla and the ever-elusive Beseema Heartthrob.
Darla, on the other hand, sat on the bench in front of her locker; head lowered as she stared at the worn photo on the inside of the locker door. She sighed and shook her head. Lost in a confusing world of conflict; guilt of all shapes, sizes, and intensity seemed to literally push hard on her shoulders to weigh her down.
Amani’s smile was frozen in a happier, safer time. The smile seemed to reflect the fantasy infatuation she thought she had with Beseema, but now she was filled with doubts about everything and everyone.
Darla survived, failed to protect, moved on, stood still but had begun to live her life while lamenting every act, choice, thought and emotion. That feeling of helplessness permeated her existence. Her mother’s cancer arriving on the heels of her long hoped-for reconciliation did little to ease her confusion.
Her Aunt Jo’s loneliness seemed to pull at that belief that Darla needed to fix everything and protect everyone…and anyone. And try as she might, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for Jo and wonder if her Aunt’s lot in life of loneliness portended her own.
“This seat taken?’
She turned to find Officer Lisa Kovic sitting only a few feet away in a similar pose; right down to the near-mirrored frown Darla also sported..
“Hey, Leese….” Darla said weakly. Lisa winced at the mere acknowledgement. Darla seemed to be instantly energized; the guardian forgetting her own problems in the face of another’s. She sidled closer; not too invasively close, but close enough to see that Lisa had been crying; her normal bravado nowhere to be seen.
“Are you okay?” That question there is no okay other than will she be okay. Lisa nodded; slowly but with little conviction.
“Uh….. I’m alright,” she replied weakly as she looked away. “Uh….I… gotta go…” she said abruptly and rose to leave. Darla put her hand out. Lisa took the proffered gesture and squeezed Darla’s hand before running out of the locker room, leaving Darla more confused than ever. Was it just her vulnerability, or did
Lisa always look…. Pretty? Either way, Darla immediately reverted to form; feeling as if she betrayed the memory of her late fiancé or worse yet; had she just dropped the torch she had been carrying for Beseema. She shook her head and bit her tongue, overwhelmed with guilt from merely being human. Darla turned to Alex, who shrugged his shoulders and replied,
“She and doctorwhatshername broke up.”
"Oh.." Darla nodded reflexively even as her twin default settings kicked in; wanting to comfort the crying girl who had just fled while feeling inadequate to the task. And a recently added custom option fired up as well; the ever-growing belief that she did not deserve to be happy. She sighed and lowered her head once again; cautiously hopeful that no one would be able to spot the tears rapidly welling in her own eyes.
Jo’s apartment, that evening….
Jo sat on the couch; her legs curled underneath. Her cell phone softly interrupted the silence with Faure’s Pavane; a new app which suited her of-late mood.
“Hello? Oh, hi Alex….Thursday? Oh… I….Yes, I…. no, Alex. What? Well, yes… burgers can be less formal. One sec?” She faked a cough and bit the inside of her mouth nervously. It was just too…”
“Too soon…what…oh… no… Just a sec.”
She hadn’t meant to speak that out loud. Sighing, she jumped back into conversation, hoping she could speak her mind without falling apart. She stood up and began to pace nervously between the couch and her bedroom door; as if to seek sanctuary from any decision. Alex’s voice interrupted her retreat and she spoke.
“Thursday for burgers? I may be slotted for a double… I left my planner in my locker…no .. I’m not… Let me check and I’ll call you back…no, I’m not…really, Alex…Yes…okay….I love you….too….” The dial tone signaled all clear. She sighed again; relieved that she held it together. Sitting down, she stared at the phone, feeling an odd dread. Her eyes widened in embarrassed recognition as she recalled his last words and her echo.
“I love you.”
Louise’s apartment, the next day…
“It’s okay. It hurts no matter what,” Louise sidled close to Darla on the big couch; smiling with an almost easy resignation. Darla hugged Louise; her embrace still tentative and awkward, as if hugging would somehow break her mother. And as if the hug would promise more than either could give.
“We…I want to spend all of my time begging for forgiveness, but that would just hurt us both. You already forgave me.” Louise shook her head and Darla nodded. In only a few short weeks, Louise had dwindled in nearly every way but one; her skin was growing even more translucent and taut, but her resolve to exist had grown as well; perhaps to complete her life as best she could.
“You feel guilty?” Not really a question so much as permission for Darla to feel in order to move forward.
“I know it’s been years since Amani died…..” A gasp of sad pain escaped her lips.
“And….I know she….Beseema…. she’s like a ghost…..a ghost I dream about… dreamed about so much.” Louise wanted to hug her daughter, but between the small insertion of her own guilt for her nearly life-long neglect as a mother and Darla’s need to be heard, she held back.
“I….swear, Mom….this…” Darla looked away, picturing the recently-revealed vulnerability of the ‘new’ girl. Was that it?
“Is that what I’m here for? To be a guardian? To turn around all the time to hold onto the past? How the ….how am I supposed to fix anyone’s …I’m not supposed to fix anyone, And I can’t save anyone…” Darla shook her head; convinced almost she herself was beyond salvation
“Some guardian, huh? Amani is dead and Beseema maybe dead too. Lisa…fuck, Mom. I don’t even know her.”
Louise smiled and provided the only motherly advice she would ever give her daughter. Years of advice for a child who she never appreciated. Decades of wasted breath over words meant to bring her own comfort rather than Darla’s. There still would be important, precious, and perhaps life-changing moments in the weeks or even days she had left, but she spoke softly in question rather than statement.
“You may not know her….Darla?” The mention of her name enfolded her even as weak hands touched her face.
“But...Do….do you want to get to know her?” In the tick of the clock of time, Darla felt her mother’s words give her permission to release both the precious past and any wondrous future as she sighed.
“Yehhh yes.” She went to pull away in one last burst of guilt and shame-fueled energy, but Louise pulled her into a hug; her own energy like the last dash toward the tape after a hard-run marathon.
“Don’t go, Mommy. Please?” Louise held Darla; offering no promises other than that moment.
“Shhhh,” she cooed through her own tears, repeating the endearing solace that had been abandoned until of late. And the recent feelings of safety from her mother's final surrender to their mutual, desperate need for the mother-daughter love once again resumed; gently pulling away every remaining defense as Darla sobbed in her mother's arms with love reinforced by words both needed to hear,
“Mommy’s here.”
Alex’s apartment, early evening…
The commentator on SNY was lamenting about some inconsistency in the Mets’ middle relief; lulling Alex into a drowsy half-dream when his cell chimed in with Mal’s song from Firefly.
“What? Jo? Oh hi!” He perked up and smiled. Muting the TV, he went to speak, but stopped short.
“You can’t? Okay. Maybe…. What? Oh… but I thought?” He sighed in frustration; wanting to argue with the fragile soul, but that would have been selfish. He spoke as carefully and plainly as he could, hoping he actually could keep it about her; whatever that might finally become.
“Listen, please? I know, and I respect that. I’m here if you and Darla need me, Yes. Okay…yes….see you.” The abruptness of the dial tone nearly shoved him into self-pity, but if there was anything he believed, it was that he loved Jo too much to push; maybe that unconditional love he remembered from Sunday school when he was a kid. He blinked back some oddly peaceful tears and un-muted the TV; hoping to get lost in the evening’s baseball scoreboard.
About an hour later, his peace was interrupted once again by his cell. He grabbed it and clicked ‘call;.’ so hoping for a reprieve from Jo that he failed to notice the number on the display.
“Hello? What? Sorry…. One sec? Let me turn the TV down.” Hitting the mute button once again, he returned his attention to the call.
“Yes? Oh, Captain Sayers? Farnetti? No, not since yesterday after shift? Her number? Yeah, that’s it? One sec?” It wasn’t like her to leave her phone off, but Jo had said things were getting much worse for Louise, and neither Jo or Darla could hope for more than a week at a time.
“Sorry, Cap. I can swing over to her place? Tonight? What’s the hur…what? Oh…” Alex’s face grew pale as he near-grimaced at his captain’s words.
“Yeah…. Sure thing…. Be there in thirty….maybe longer if she’s at her mom’s…. yes.” He clicked off and let out a very frustrated breath, finishing with a lamenting expletive.
“Son of a fucking bitch.”
He grabbed his car keys but paused; trying once to get Darla on her cell. The call went right to voice mail and he clicked off. He really didn’t mean to make it about him, but an all too familiar punch-in-the=gut feeling visited him as he went to rise. He had held Darla's hand when she was still Aldo and had lost Amani and the others.
The guilt they both felt since Alex got called back at the last second for another mundane assignment while nearly everyone else got blown away that afternoon by an IED. He survived that afternoon out of providence and Aldo died, so to speak, as Darla emerged for good from sad impetus gained from the loss his/her/their loss.
And now, even as he sat down to regain some strength for the task at hand; he couldn’t help anticipating that his best friend finally gotten her mother to recognize her only surviving child as Darla her daughter. And that Darla’s Aunt Jo was regaining a sister after her own estrangement with Darla’s mom as well.
The task of consolation would now be doubly challenging and painful and now cruel because he would have to find Officer Darla Farnetti to deliver that sad news that Beseema Farouk; Mossad agent and most recently an operative of some unnamed American agency…. Beseema Farouk was dead.
At the precinct, a short time later...
Alex sat across from Captain Sayers; an odd late night at the end of a day off to be sure. Alex hoped his captain had answers, but his hopes proved immediately and expectedly futile.
“All I know is what that Chastain fellow told me – that her car was pulled out of the Harlem River yesterday afternoon. The Alphabet guys say as little as possible, and Mr. Chastain was no exception.” She shook her head in frustration.
“Body?” Alex mirrored the woman’s expression as Sayers remarked,
“Yes, but that’s all he’d say other than that we are officially instructed to ‘back off.’”
“Figures.”
“Lisa Kovic has put in for a transfer; by the way….that whole breakup beat the hell out of her.” Sayers shook her head.
“When it rains it monsoons? Damn. Lisa’s a good cop, Cap. Maybe a week or so of red tape might change her mind?” Alex looked out past the office doorway into the precinct, mirroring Sayers’ head shake. She shrugged he shoulders in frustrated hope.
“We can only hope, but in the end, she’s got to do what’s best for her.” Alex nodded.
“Listen…I don’t trust this whole business with the feds…. Watch your back.”
“Well, good luck with that.” Alex laughed softly.
“Inshallah,” the woman replied with a pleasant smile.
“Amen to that, Cap… Amen.”
Alex walked out and hit the preset, hoping to get Darla. The call went directly to voicemail. He sighed and walked to the exit stairwell.
Jo Bianchi’s apartment shortly thereafter….
Jo had just sat down in the sofa when her cell phone blared through the evening quiet.
“Hello? Oh…. Hi Alex. What? She’s at Louise’s place….What? Oh God no. Jeez, Alex… no…. My sister…. It’s just a matter of weeks, Darla is … Yes…too much over the phone. You’re sure? Oh fuck…” Jo’s face grew hot from the embarrassment,
“Yes I know. Say …. We’re getting together tomorrow morning for coffee near her place. Maybe you can meet us…Yes…. How about nine or so…. you can drop by at ten? Thanks. She’s all I’ll have left….” Jo gasped at the thought of her sister’s imminent passing and was already beginning to sob by the time she ended the call, but she heard enough between gasps to discover hope.
“What? Yes Alex, I know you’re there for me too. What? For…forever? Oh…. Well…. good night….” She dropped the phone as she fell sideways onto the sofa and sobbed into the pillow; shedding increasingly confused tears.
Meanwhile. At the apartment of Louise Farnetti...
Darla walked Louise to the bedroom and helped her into bed. Sitting down in the chair by the nightstand, she leaned close and clicked the table lamp on.
You want me to read, Mom?”
“Maybe in a little while? Oh…. Did I tell you I talked to your sister today?”
“You mentioned that Gina and the girls might be coming in a couple of weeks,” Darla faked a cough, turning away to try to hold it together. She could only hope that older sister would arrive in time.
“Well, yes, and they’ll be here in Thursday, God willing. And Paul got time off. But I didn’t talk to Gina today. I talked with Connie.” Darla hadn’t meant to, but her mother’s words evoked a gasp.
It was almost joyful to remember the sounds of her late baby sister’s voice. But the immediacy of her older sister’s arrival brought with it the fear of facing rejection. Louise had changed but sadly, there was no reason to believe that Gina would be as welcoming. Time and distance may have contributed to the estrangement. And even when Gina and Paul and the girls lived in Queens, Gina followed their mother’s lead in rejecting the woman Darla had become.
“Connie says you have to forgive.”
“I know, Mom… for my own benefit as much for Gina’s, but it just hurts so much.”
“I know.” Louise said, wincing only a little bit. She understood.
“It’s all my fault. No… It was my fault. But you forgave me, and I know I … OI didn’t make it easy. I….” She smiled weakly. Darla rose and sat down on the bed and leaned close; giving her mother a kiss in the cheek.
“Don’t Mom…. It’s okay.”
“No, honey…” She gasped at the return of an endearment not long for this world.
“I’m okay, but what I did…. How I treated you? Gina always looked up to me and this is what my hate did to her love for you….” Louise frowned as tears fell freely, but her face brightened and she grinned. The same grin Darla remembered when Louise would find an extra few dollars for their birthdays. She rubbed her face with her pajama sleeve as her grin grew broader.
“It’s not okay. But….” She pulled Darla close while returning the gesture as she kissed her daughter; saying at last,
“Connie says it will be.”
At Jo’s apartment, 11:27 pm…….
Jo sat on the couch, exhausted. Her tea sat on the end table, cold and hardly touched; Sleepytime, ironically. An hour’s worth of crying brought no relief and a dull headache than only now that had begun to fade. The doorbell rang. She got up and closed her robe, tying it off with the satin belt. Wiping the remaining tears from her face, she spoke from behind the safety of the double-locked door.
“Who’s there?” her voice broke; almost in a mixture of dread and hopeful expectation.
“It’s me,” Alex said. Jo’s hands shook as she fumbled with the locks. She opened the door slowly, her left hand pulling the top of her closed.
“Alex? It’s late… I was sleeping,” she lied. Alex stood outside; noting the tear tracks that Jon had missed. He smiled.
“Can we talk? Things seemed a bit… you….”
“I’m okay, Alex,” she said abruptly.”
“No you’re not.” She went to reply but he put his hand on her arm; gentle and nit abrupt at all.
“Our call? You didn’t hit ‘end’ ….. I could hear you crying. I went to hang up but I couldn’t. I didn’t know what to say so I just sat there and listened.” Jo’s eyes flashed briefly in anger, but her expression softened as she noticed the tear tracks in his rugged face. Rugged?
“After about ten minutes, I just sorta prayed that… well… that you wouldn’t be so sad. “ Jo stepped back, attempting a retreat that was foiled since Alex had grasped her hand. She raised her other hand to her face; covering it in shame.
“I…. I wanted…. To hold you.” Alex let go, stepping a bit backward as he gave her space.
“You…wanted….Oh no, Alex…. Please….no.”
“You….I know Darla’s going through a hard time… the whole thing with the girl. And she’s never really gotten over Amani’s death… and now with her Mom….” He hadn’t meant to provoke. but Jo shook a bit.
“Listen.” He said sharply but quickly added, “please? Jo looked down slightly, relenting without a sound.
“You’ve been there for my partner…for your niece… through every minefield and every battle since Aldo came back as Darla.” Jo winced a bit and rather than backing away, Alex stepped closer, grabbing her hand once again.
“I…” Jo stammered, searching for an argument.
“I know how … I’m sorry….I don’t know how hard this is for you…. And I’m sorry that I may never know.” He pulled her close, wanting so bad to be the one to comfort her. But at this point she had to provide that herself even if he had to push her painfully into that insight.
“And I’m not sorry for what I’m about to say.”
“Wh…what?” Jo tried to pull away from him. He held fast; gently but firmly.
“I know everyone thinks the cancer has pulled your sister back to humanity, but that was just the end… the culmination.”
“What!?” Jo turned and tried to walk away, but Alex pulled her closer; face to face as Jo’s eyes flashed with anger.
“I do not want to diminish your sister’s transformation, but her illness is the end result of love; plain and simple.”
“I… I don’t….”
“Listen? Jo? Love…your love brought her back. Darla told me that you have reached out to Louise every day since she rejected you? How many years? Unfailing. And how many nights did you spend prostrate; crying out in forgiveness for her sake.”
“But… she’s dying Alex… I failed.” Jo pulled in hand away and covered her face. Alex pulled her hand gently away and kissed her palm; evoking a wince.
“That’s just it, Jo. In her deepest fears about death, your love finally broke through. Her heart? The change? It was your love…. And Darla’s… that brought her back.”
“I feel so useless…. What can I do? What do I do now?”
“You do what you have always done….” Jo tilted her head slightly. She wiped the tears from her noise with her pajama sleeve.
“What, Alex? What do I so now?” she repeated. Alex swallowed, anxiously hopeful that his next few words would suffice in the now-or –never moment in eternity.
“You continue to be the kindest person to walk the face of the earth and you keep loving…. And…” he paused to regroup. Smiling, he tugged her face closer.
“And you let me in…. let me love you.
He didn’t wait for her to answer but gently began to kiss away her tears; his own mixing with hers as his effort became a futile if entirely, overwhelmingly loving gesture. He tilted her face just a bit more and spoke,
“I love you so much Jo…. So very much. He kissed her lips briefly and she placed her head on his chest; sobbing in sweet release.
12: 17 AM.
Jo lay asleep on the couch. A soft, peaceful coo escaped her lips; her face a mixture of rest and bliss. Alex stood up, gently placing a pillow under her head.
“You’re going?”
“Just to the kitchen for some water. Then to there,” he said, pointing to the recliner across the couch. He leaned closer and kissed her lips softly as whispered/
“Other than that, I’m not going anywhere….ever.”
1:12 AM, at the apartment of Louise Farnetti…
Louise lay under the covers in Darla’s arms.
“How…. How do I know,” she sobbed softly . Darla patted her mother’s face with a silk handkerchief she had retrieved from the dresser.
“What, Mommy?”
“If I’ve….did I make…. Can I be forgiven?” Louise sobbed in Darla’s arms.
“Oh, Mom… you already are….You already are,” Darla pleaded as she held Louise close. In just a few minutes, sobs had been replaced with soft, peaceful murmurs as they drifted into sleep.
6:27 AM….
Darla had already risen and was sitting in the rocker catty-corner to her mother’s bed. A hospital-bed that thankfully had fit in both the wide elevator and the front door of the apartment. Darla failed to apprehend any rest; the presence of the bed was a sad reminder of all the pain the family had endured; overcome, in fact. She sighed trying to focus in the ‘Today’s Reading,’ but while she had never abandoned any faith, neither had she embraced it. The doorbell rang. Darla got up and walked to the door; opening it slightly without the chain lock.
“Yes?” She greeted the woman at the door with a quizzical half-smile; noting the nametag pinned to a brightly colored floral nurse’s smock. Tamika Washington, RN. She was tall and pleasant-looking; and about ages with her Aunt Jo. Her medium brown complexion was interrupted by a long thin scar on her left cheek but complemented by an immediate broadening of an already attractive smile.
“Ms. Farnetti? Good morning? “ Her question seemed odd.
“I’m Darla Farnetti, yes?”
“I’m… here to help.”
Jo’s apartment, 6:43 AM…
Jo stirred from her peaceful rest. Things seemed out of sorts as she realized sleep had overtaken her on the couch instead of her bed. She rubbed her eyes; blinking in question as she noticed the recliner across from the couch was empty. She sat up quickly; a near-panic from her insecurity urging her to abandon rest. A folded piece of paper fell from her lap to the coffee table. She picked it up; opening it.
“Good morning, Josephina! Have to run an errand. I’ll meet you and Darla at the diner at 9:30ish. I think maybe we hold off telling her about Beseema. I hate to lay that on you when you’re already weighed down with everything, but the info isn’t out there and you’re all going through hell as it is. I wish I could take every bit of pain from you and your family.
Please take a hug and kiss out of petty cash and I’ll redeem them when I see you. .
Jo smiled at the endearment; her hand grasping the note tightly. She sighed at the idea of keeping Beseema’s death from Darla, but with Gina and the girls due tomorrow and all that would entail, it was best to keep it quiet, wasn’t it? And what about her and Alex?
“Moje srce?”
She was tempted to shake her head no at the sentiment, but she was strong enough at least to not venture down the decades-old road of self-reproach. Maybe she and Alex were worth each other’s love? Well him for sure.
She walked into the kitchen to find the coffeemaker already set up to brew. She hit the switch and smiled. Other than a kind offer to share a cup of coffee when she was another person from another time and place ago, no one had ever made her anything to get ready for the day. A simple gesture; hardly worth noting in most folk’s lives. But she wasn’t ‘most folks’, and she burst into near gleeful weeping over the love of one kind, generous and compassionate man….
Meanwhile…
“The agency is going to increase our help to round-the-clock.” The kind-faced woman extended her hand. Darla smiled and shuddered in one moment. Her mother’s hospice care was already established, but the prospect of increased presence by the nurses left her feeling overwhelmed at the implications.
“We …I… “ She stammered.
“Ms. Farnetti? Someone contacted the agency. It’s been paid for with a guarantee for as long as we’re needed, which I hope will help ease things.” Ms. Bellacourt smiled warmly and took Darla by the arm.
“I was here a few days ago; you had work and your neighbor was helping care for your mother.” She paused and smiled once again as she led Darla to the couch. Sitting them both down, she took Darla’s hands in hers.
“You don’t remember me? I was at the field hospital when Aldo was brought in. I was the charge nurse then, and you gave us quite a scare. It’s where I met some of your friends. Alex and I have kept in touch after his sister passed, and I know all about you.” Darla winced and covered her face in needless shame.
“You don’t remember, but when you were so close to death’s door, you told me and the other nurses that …well it broke my heart to know you had lost your….” Tamika sighed heavily’ her eyes welling up with tears as she remembered.
”Her name was?” Lt. Bellacourt leaned closer; anticipating the labored whisper.
“Amani. We… we were.” Aldo began to weep; a struggle that left the physical pain far behind.
“I am so sorry,” She smiled weakly and stood to go; the needs were equally divided between Aldo and other patients, and the other nurses certainly capable amidst the overwhelming pull of all their strength with such daunting losses and hopeful rescues. Aldo grabbed her arm; pulling her closer.
“I….if I….tell Alex to call Aunt Jo? Tell Aunt Jo that…that Darla is going to see her little sis…”
“You flat-lined and we nearly lost you, but you came back; sad and happy at the same time. You don’t remember since you were in and out of it for a few days before you rallied for good. But …to be sure, you and I already know each other, Darla.” The woman smiled again; evoking a shameful shrug from Darla.
“You may have been Aldo, but I know and Alex knows and your aunt knows that you’ve always been Darla.” The woman’s ever-present smile evoked a gasp; followed quickly by another appointment with healing tears as Darla fell into Tamika Bellacourt’s welcoming embrace.
“Your Aunt Jo and I go back to when I first was deployed and she was finishing…when Joseph was finishing his tour. It was when I got out and started working in Queens that I met Jo…or rather re-met her, you know? That woman is as close to an angel as I will ever know. You…you and your mother have always been in good hands, no matter what else we may do for you all. Please, child? Let it go?”
Tamika did not know that what she said was part of a grand plan set in motion further back than in the military hospital or even at the death of Darla’s sister, but even perhaps before any of them had taken their first breath. But that same plan was about to find fruition in ways none of them could have dreamed of. Nevertheless, the implementation of the moment included but was not limited to the weeping by the girl in her arms.
“It’s going to be alright, dear child?”
A short while later…elsewhere…
The room was dark with just a slit of yellow-white squeezing through the gap between the door and the floor, but enough light to leave the figure able to negotiate the darkness of the seedy hotel room. The stay had been planned before everything went ‘south,’ so to speak.
No need to hurry; the day’s events were laid out exactly like a banal action picture. Things might be predictable but only to the person with the ‘script’ in mind. The other ‘players’ would be included in the drama, but their parts were entirely to be improvised.
“Whose Life in Peril Is This, Anyway?”
A quick walk over to the short dresser and the Sig-Sauer and ammo and then?
“It’s time.” Equally banal, but entirely appropriate as the person who started this drama was going to learn that predictable doesn’t necessarily mean inevitable
Meanwhile…Jo’s apartment…
Jo’s heard an odd sound and realized her cell was vibrating merrily on the kitchen counter and had lodged itself between the microwave and coffeemaker.
“Hello? Alex? Not tell? What? Wait?.” She blew out a breath.
”Yes… we do …. It’s not even public, so there’s no reason it can’t…What? Yes. My niece and her tribe are coming tomorrow. Maybe it’s… Yes, Alex. We…. Oh. Well I’ll see you… what? “ She paused and pursed her lips, hoping that last night was as real as she remembered. One last word from him sent her over an emotional edge like a log flume at an amusement park. She held it together long enough to return the sentiment before clicking off.
“I love you, too.”
A little while later…
Louise sat up; as comfortable as possible in an impossible place, but with more hope than she could ever have recalled. Darla leaned back in the chair next to the bed until her head actually bonked against the open closet door; evoking a soft laugh. Levity? Even the darkest of moments can brighten with the commonplace.
“Excuse me, Louise? Perhaps a glass of Gatorade and another visitor?” Tamika smiled and stepped aside, revealing Jo.
“I’m early and here…. I just wanted to start my day.” Up to that point, Jo had held it together fairly well. It wasn’t that she didn’t already feel the impending grief, but that she had needed to maintain some measure of composure until ‘help arrived.’ She smiled at Darla and turned to face her sister.
“LouLou?” She stammered; practically exhaling slowly an endearment not shared in decades. Louise put her head down; ashamed of the gulf she had built between her and Jo. But Jo would have none of that.
“What’s my name, LouLou?” She sat on the bed and pulled a very old and beloved stuffed toy from her bag; a light brown baby kangaroo – a Joey - that hearkened back to better days they had years before.
“JoJo… you brought ….her.” Ironic that name and gender fit both toy and sister. Louise began to weep; perhaps soft enough in deference to the disease that continued to invade her space, but maybe the moment finally called for soft and sentimental.
Jo shook her head ‘no;’ not at the sentiment but at any guilt that remained behind the tears. The kindness that was so much a part of Jo Bianchi brushed away her sister’s shame; replaced by the return of love only two sisters can share; even if only one of them was allowed to be a girl when they were kids.
She fell into Louise and wept tears of gratitude mixed only a little bit with sadness. There would be all too much time for sadness later, but this moment was designed for joy for all of the women of the family; even if that joy would be somewhat circuitous and span the next several days. Darla put her hand on Jo’s back while gently rubbing her mother’s hand.
“I… I love you.” No pleading. There wasn’t a miracle sitting outside Louise Farnetti’s door other than the next few days to be savored. Days destined to renew and reward.
Astoria Coffee, a bit after half past nine…
Alex sat at a larger table toward the front. He hadn’t meant to take up so much space, but three folks talking about urgency designed to tip-toe around one death to face another required room. He was drinking his second cup of coffee when a familiar voice interrupted his quiet.
“Hey, Al.” He looked up to find Officer Lisa Kovic standing by the table. Her civvies might have evoked silence over the word of her transfer, but she continued.
"I noticed you sitting...I wanted to say… well, I decided….My therapist reminded me that moving someplace else after the break-up… You and Dee and the crew are stuck with me.” She blushed in more than just embarrassment at the failure she believed everyone else thought she was. A cosmic convergence of sorts was about to take place, and she happened to be in the exactly right place at the maniacally right time.
A few minutes of awkward banter ensued; Lisa still standing with Alex struggling with what to say to ease Lisa’s embarrassment. A brief reprieve came as Darla and Jo entered the café. They walked up and smiled.
“Jeez, Al. I didn’t know you were meeting someone… friends…oh, damn.’ Lisa said while backing against a chair from an adjacent table. Jo reached out and grabbed Lisa’s hands.
“Nonsense. Please?” She used her arm in a broad invitation while her eyes questioned why Alex hadn’t thought of it.
“Jo…Jo Bianchi… Lisa, right? We met last Christmas at Alex’s?” Lisa nodded nervously even as Darla pulled a chair out for her. In a few moments a waitress had arrived with three glasses of water and Alex’s third cup of coffee.
“I… was just telling Alex?” Lisa took a long swig of water and continued; trying not to look anyone.
“I’m staying put…. My therapist… not to make big changes?” Her expression and her tone sought approval that no one could bestow since she owed no one any explanation. Nevertheless, she shook her head. Jo touched her hand; evoking a wince.
“We’ve all been there, hon. It’s okay.” It was okay, but it went further than that. She lifted her head slightly.
“”I’ve got to get going… pulling evenings this week.” She stood up and Darla rose reflexively. Time enough to talk about family, but perhaps Lisa’s departure was for the better as Darla found her face growing hot.
“Why don’t we make a date for coffee…just us girls?” Jo said.
“Maybe? I don’t know? Sure….”
Lisa had barely gotten the words out when the window behind Alex shattered. Darla dropped to the floor; dragging Lisa with her. Jo found herself out of breath as she realized Alex had covered her with his body. Another loud noise followed; the sound of loud slapping against the far wall. Their waitress fell to the floor; her arm bloodied in a fortunate graze. Lisa stood up slightly and cautiously; her back-up drawn with her shield in the other hand.
“Police! Stay down!” As she turned the microseconds of silence were broken by the sound of a patrol car siren approaching and the very loud sound of screeching brakes. A slight figure jumped out of a Navy Blue Explorer; beckoning Alex from the front door of the cafe. Lisa squinted and against her better judgment, she urged him and Darla and Jo with,
“Go!” Hesitation was followed with,
“Get the fuck outta here! GO!” The three ran to the SUV and quickly got inside. As the Explorer pulled away another SUV sped off in the opposite direction. Jo sat in the back with Darla with the driver pushing a pistol into Alex’s hands. He tilted his head in confusion as the driver looked up into the rear view mirror.
“There’s a Sig and a Glock in the bag between you,” the voice was only vaguely familiar; like hearing a Brit actress do an American part. Nevertheless three sets of eyes widened. Jo was relieved since the woman behind the wheel appeared to be safe.
Darla’s eyes widened is surprise; followed quickly by confusion and conflict. And Alex was simply and almost barely surprised as the woman pulled off her New York Yankees baseball cap to reveal long dark hair and the lovely but confounding enigmatic visage of Beseema Farouck….
Northwest heading toward Astoria Boulevard...
“Well, that’s a real kick in the head.” Alex held the 45 in his right hand, but cautiously eyed Beseema Farouck.
“To paraphrase Twain, the reports of my demise are extremely falsified.” She half smiled and then eyed the two in the back seat. Jo laughed softly at the irony while tapping Alex on the shoulder.
“I guess we should have ordered to go.” She pulled the Sig from the bag and pointed it at Beseema.
“I may be a nurse, but I still know how to fire a weapon. Maybe you can help us understand why you’re driving instead of in the morgue?” Darla’s eyes widened.
“What?”
“We were going to tell you that the government alphabet guy let us know that Beseema was dead, but obviously he lied. It makes me wonder who the fuck is telling us the truth.” Alex pointed his own weapon at Beseema.
“I can assure you that since I’ve barely spoken to you; my falsehoods are at least at a minimum. And I’m sorry for what I’m about to say.” She paused as she checked the traffic behind through the rearview mirror.
“We tried to distance ourselves.” Alex cut her off.
“Ourselves??”
”The people I work for. You were dragged into this quite accidentally from our perspective, but the people who just shot up the restaurant? Once you returned to check on Mahmoud and me? They were convinced you knew more than you did. My superiors regret they did not anticipate that. “ She breathed out in frustration. She had anticipated that problem before she was forced underground, and by then Alex and Darla were already in peril.
“I’ve tried to keep close, but my own circumstances and your comings and goings barely permitted that. It’s – Well let’s just say some people might find themselves looking for other opportunities within my organization.
“I don’t get it.” Alex looked back and forth between Beseema and Darla.
“It’s a bit complicated, but…” Her words were cut shirt as the back window of the Explorer shattered, sending glass shards all over. Beseema pulled a hard right onto a side street as the pursuing SUV failed to make the turn. She put the Explorer in reverse and hit he gas, barely missing a cab as she drive back down the street.
“They don’t give up easy, do they?” Alex quipped.
“Ea-si-LEE,” Jo smiled even as she turned around and pointed the Sig past the headrest toward the now-windowless rear hatch. A moment later, a Glock rested on the seat next to her.
“I’m so tired…” Darla blew out a breath and got off a shot just as the Black SUV drew up close. The guy in the right front seat was leaning out the window and her shot hit him as it glanced off the side mirror, leaving his left wrist fairly useless and his weapon lying broken in his lap. The driver backed off the gas a bit as the pursuit continued.
As I began to say? See the purse on the floor next to your feet? Open it and pull out the object wrapped in my Hijab?” She held up her free hand revealing no weapon. Alex did as she asked and produced a flat parcel wrapped in a gold and bronze Hijab. Pulling the fabric away, he found himself staring at a photo of a softball sized nearly opaque blue stone.
“That, dear friends, is why we are fleeing. Whatever Chastain told you can be taken with a very large bag of rock salt, to coin a phrase.” She slowed just long enough to do a hard right onto 28th, heading for Astoria Blvd.
“You’re not Mossad or C.I.A.?” Darla snapped at her, feeling betrayed.
“I was once, but I work for your state department. He told you that it was all about nukes? That Mahmoud was on the no-fly list? That’s half true. He was on the no-fly list because that’s what Chastain and his backers wanted in order to limit Mahmoud’s movement. To isolate us.”
“What is it about, Ms. Farouck? Jo asked Beseema checked the rearview mirror. Wherever their pursuers were, it was not behind them but likely heading up the next one-way in the same direction…toward the Grand Central Parkway
“When the Peacock Throne fled Iran, the Shah took with him some items of…compensation. Mahmoud was not a scientist but instead a jeweler to the Shah. The stone you hold is what was once known in some circles as the Blue Peacock.”
“A sapphire.” Jo asked. Alex turned and half smiled with a bit of a quizzical look on his face.
“I minored in archaeology,” she shrugged her shoulders.
“Yes, but probably the largest uncut sapphire anywhere. Mahmoud? He borrowed the stone after the Peacock Throne wound up in Paris. Chastain works for Iran. He used his C.I.A. connections to insert himself into the search for Mahmoud. A few million dollars is but a pittance to the Iranis, but worth killing for a low-level wonk with connections.
“Nobody double-taps a bodega thief,” Alex said with a half-frown. Darla looked back and forth at Alex and Beseema. She sighed while feeling shamed. The woman was beautiful, but when the dream climbed off the pedestal back into reality, the woman might have been as pretty as Amani, but with none of the sweetness. Beseema noticed her frown.
“I am very sorry to have deceived you, but the more distance my “death” put between myself and you two, the government had hoped to draw Chastain’s attention away as well. Sadly, we were all mistaken.” She smiled weakly. Jo picked up on Darla’s disappointment.
She glanced again in the rearview. A dark SUV appeared to be following, but it pulled over as a few business men and women exited and walked into a Starbucks. She breathed out yet another relieved gasp and continued.
“I’m glad you’re safe,” she said, but her frown was less than cordial.
“I am sorry. To say I had little choice is of small consolation, but at this point I am more concerned with the safety of everyone rather than the accursed stone. We had hoped to find Chastain and his thugs before this morning, and it is only by happenstance? Perhaps divine intervention, in’shallah, that no one was seriously hurt.” She tapped her headset with her free hand.
“Thank god the waitress is going to be okay.” She pointed to her headset again.” They just let me know. As far as this,” at that she pointed to the picture as she slowed down.
“Now that they know I’m still alive and that the State Department knows all about Chastain, you should be safe but we intend on keeping an eye out just in case.
It’s over. I know this is of very pitiful consolation, but I.” She hesitated.
“Mahmoud and I became friends after a fashion, and it will remain with me all of my days that I failed him.” She sighed and returned the rest of her attention to the road, Darla saw her expression in the mirror and finally realized that she did admire and respect Beseema, but whatever love she held in her heart would be for that kind of acquaintance-like love one might have; fleeting somewhat and valued rather than highly treasured.
Jo had kept her eyes on her niece the whole time and breathed a sigh of relief. Time enough even in the near future, but their lives were entwined with the immediate future of Louise Farnetti. The next few minutes were filled with slower turns and little conversation. Jo found herself staring at Alex, whose attention remained cautiously in Beseema as she drove. The woman looked up into the rearview mirror again and spoke.
“My superiors are already in contact with your Captain. Again? I am very sorry you were thrust into this.” She gazed once again at the picture before pulling the Explorer up to the curb by the café that they had fled less than a half hour before. Darla reached over and squeezed Beseema’s hand.
“I’m sorry, too, Ms. Farouck. As-Salaam-Alaikum.”
“Waʿalaykumu as-salām,” Beseema said in return.
Darla noticed that Beseema’s eyes had welled up a bit with tears. Her hand drifted apart from Beseema in reluctant resignation to the real while bidding a bitter-sweet farewell to yet another dream. Alex just nodded while placing the picture and the 45 on the seat before climbing out of the car. A kind looking man took his place.
“Hey, partner.” he said almost gently. The smile on his face seemed to brighten her, leaving Darla to nod in understanding. A dream for someone else? Wasn’t that always the way for her?’ She stepped out of the car.
“I’m sorry, too, Ms. Farouck. God bless,” Jo said. She returned the weapon to the bag and reached around the seat and squeezed Beseema’s hand before exiting the SUV. A moment later the three stood on the other side of the street from the coffee shop now somewhat obscured by several police cars and an ambulance.
“Are you okay?” Jo asked Darla as Alex hovered in a way next to them.
“Yes,” was all she could manage before burying her face in Jo’s shoulder as she began to grieve for what could never have been even if it was what she had always hoped for?
“I know, baby girl,” Jo said as the girl sobbed. Alex patted Jo on the shoulder in agreement. And whatever was sitting just around the corner for any of them, Alex was relieved and gladdened that he would share it with Jo Bianchi,
They walked across the street and past the cordon of police as Alex held up his shield.
“Hey?” a voice called from the doorway of the café. Alex turned to find Lisa Kovic standing with a suit guy.
“Fine! You get to go on a nice drive around town and here am I stuck with the paperwork.” She nodded at the man next to her before joining the three curbside.
“What’s with? Oh fuck.” She pulled Alex aside, leaving Jo holding Darla.
“The dream comes to a grinding halt? Don’t I know that chapter?” She tried to make light of it, but she was also aware of the situation with Darla’s mom.
“Um… tell her I’m sorry?” She would have added ‘that it didn’t work out,’ but the moment went far beyond unrequited love, even if Lisa was painfully aware of that heartache herself. But Lisa had only lost her own mother to cancer the previous year. She sighed in awkward commonality before nodding at Alex.
“Gotta debrief with these jokers.” She smiled and walked back as she resumed the conference with the government men.
“Yeah,” Alex said. He returned his attention to Jo and Darla, finding them sitting in the back of Jo’s car across the street from the café. It was proving to be a very long week even at only Wednesday, and tomorrow was looking dim as Gina and her family would be flying in to reunite with Jo and Darla.
A reluctant truce on behalf of Louise? Only time would tell, but from what he knew of the rift between Darla and her sister, it didn’t look good. Especially for a girl dealing with guilt and grief for things past and things yet to come. He shook his head in frustration before pasting on a brave face as he walked across the street.
At the precinct a short while later…
“The Feds are ‘deeply regretful’ for any problems they may have caused because of this mess.” Captain Sayers remarked as she shook her head. Darla was too worked up to sit and stood in the office doorway with her arms folded in a ‘go ahead – entertain me’ pose. Alex sat quietly as he sipped his coffee. Jo sat next to him.
While the debriefing was semi-official, the Captain thought it best that Darla have support for a variety of reasons. As much as they had tried to downplay her attraction to the Mossad cum State Department heartthrob, ‘little pitchers have big ears,’ and Officer Sipowitz had overheard and spread that tale all over the precinct; thankfully to the disdain by most his fellow officers
“Officer Farnetti?” Sayers said, evoking no response.
“Darla?” Jo tapped her niece’s elbow. Darla turned her attention to her boss.
“We…we want you to take off. Don’t worry about comp or sick leave. Your fellow officers pooled their FMLA time and you’ve got as long as you need for your Mom. We want you to know we’ve got your back, okay?” Darla shook her head at the sentiment, once again feeling undeserving. Jo noticed and stood up as she rubbed Darla’s back.
At one time in the very recent past, Jo had been mired in her own shame, but brand new changes in how she saw herself helped her see the same undeserved shame in Darla. Knowing love can do that.
That evening…
A tired figure sat alone on a nice sofa in a dimly lit living room. Life had not dealt nicely with her the past year, and despite recent victories against depression and despite new insight regarding what she really hoped for, she still felt utterly alone. She wept almost silently when she lamented what would never again be and over what she feared would never come to pass.
Elsewhere…
The man shook his head. Not furiously as the moment might have demanded, but still with enough animation to indicate his resolve. Today may have been a loss, but not totally, since everyone might assume the best and drop their guard. This was not over; not by a long shot.
The next morning at Louise Farnetti’s apartment...
“I’ll put on the coffee,” Tamika said as her overnight nurse fluffed the large bevy of pillows supporting Louise. The young man smiled at Louise and touched her hand.
“I’m looking forward to meeting the rest of your family. Ma’am.” He repeated the smile and waved as he stepped aside as Jo sat down. The young man walked out to the living room to speak with Tamika.
“Til tonight. I expect we will see each other?”
“We can hope. Her other daughter and family are due in sometime this morning. It will be a bit hectic, but nothing we haven’t seen? I just hope what everyone needs to say or hear will be done this side of heaven. I’ll let you know how thing went when I see you tonight. And I will see you.” She gave him a hug before she went in the kitchen as he left,
A short while later…
A very determined knock sounded from the front door.
“Gina can’t have gotten here yet,” Darla thought. She opened the door to find a very welcoming smile attached to a familiar face,
“Hey, Darla,” Lisa Kovic said as she stepped inside. She absentmindedly rubbed Darla’s arm as she walked past; leaving both a wee bit awkward. As she entered, she caught the attention of Tamika Bettencourt. Tamika nodded and smiled almost imperceptivity as she walked into the bedroom. Jo rose from the couch and welcomed Lisa with a hug.
“You saved our lives, Lisa,’ she said, leaving the woman feeling even more awkward.
“No, I really didn’t.” Lisa said as she attempted to disengage from the embrace. Jo leaned further in and spoke softly but not in a whisper.
“If you hadn’t taken charge, who knows what the bastards might have done?” She kissed Lisa on the cheek.
“I…We…the guys down at the precinct took up a collection. We wanted to help?” She felt embarrassed by her presence, but continued.
“Jerico even persuaded Sipowitz to contribute. Seems Officer Stuck in the Past learned that his kid sister likes girls, and sorta had a talking-to by his brother. Will wonders ever cease?”
She forced a laugh, but turned away when Darla smiled at the sentiment. As she turned, she once again caught the attention of Tamika, who smiled with another nod which silently conveyed the massage, ‘don’t worry.’
“Say…Would you mind if I met your sister,” she asked. Even though she barely had met Jo and only knew of Louise as Darla’s mother.
“Sure…I bet she’d welcome the company.” Jo said. Darla immediately became protective. In a matter of only a few hours, the apartment would be teeming with her own sister Gina and her brood. Jo noticed the look of concern and smiled even as she shook her head no to Darla.
“Thanks,” Lisa said as she was ushered into the bedroom. Louise looked up from a Cat Fancy magazine and smiled.
“Hi, Mrs. Farnetti? I’m Lisa Kovic. I work with…Darla and Alex.”
“Oh,” Louise said, following it with a brief coughing jag. She collected herself and spoke.
“Oh.” She repeated,
“You saved my family.” Lisa went to shake her head no, but Louise had nothing of that and spoke.
“Come sit her next to me, Lisa, yes?” Louise pointed through the guardrail of her bed at the chair to her left. Lisa walked timidly, torn entirely in half with a need to meet Louise Farnetti despite the anguishing reminder of her own mom’s death.
“Jo told me about your mother,” Louise said, leaving the normally stoic Lisa Kovic in tears. Darla noticed her mother’s concern, and despite her best efforts, her normally dark brown eyes became a decided shade of green until her mother pointed at the chair to her right. Darla tried to act like she didn’t notice the gesture, but Louise punctuated her request.
“Come? Sit next to me and keep us company?” Darla’s nodded slightly and walked slowly to her mother’s bedside.
“You miss your mother very much.”
A simple statement of fact, but enough to send Lisa over the edge. She placed her head wearily on the bedrail and began to weep. As she wept, Louise placed her hand on the woman’s head and began to stroke her hair. She continued to sob even as Darla’s eyes reverted to brown, so to speak as she recalled the painful similarity between her and Lisa.
Both losing their fathers and both with a mother who rejected each at one time. Lisa had grown close in the very protracted painful death journey her mother took, even as Louise was on the last legs of her own. Darla had met Jana Kovic in the middle of her three-year battle during a brief rally when Jana picked up Lisa at the precinct. It wasn’t fair that fate took Jana Kovic so soon after her reconciliation with Lisa; a similarity that was also not lost on Darla as her heart went out to the woman across the bed.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Another awkward if perhaps healing moment when Darla realized that the endearment, at least at that moment, was meant for her and not Lisa. She went to speak, but no words escaped her lips as she closed her eyes and began to cry without sound. Louise grabbed her hand, only to release it seconds later. A moment after that, she felt the hand grasp hers once again. She was almost shocked when she opened her eyes to find her mother had placed her hand into Lisa’s. Louise smiled and nodded before calling out.
“Jo? Could you bring three cups of coffee?” A few moments later Jo had entered the room with a tray carrying four mugs of coffee and a pint of Half & Half. Jo smiled and spoke.
“Louise doesn’t keep any sweetener in the house. I hope you don’t mind?” Lisa looked up, blinking back tears and spoke weakly, but with a slight smile.
“Nope. I take mine dark, no sugar.” A preference that seemed to be the choice of all of the Bianchi women, leaving Darla shaking her head in confused if increasingly peaceful pondering.
Somewhere else…
“The man sat on the desk chair with his feet resting on the bed; his cell phone against his left ear.
“I really don’t care at this point what you feel like. We started this together and we will finish it. I know… I know. I don’t like that anymore than you do,” he lied.
“Just a few more days, and you can go back to whatever floats your boat. I, my dear, intend to find some nice island getaway in the Pacific somewhere with no ex-wives and maybe a nice girl to keep the nights warm.” He breathed out. Convincing was his middle name? Wasn’t that what the guys in the agency said?
“Give me two days to get everything set, and then we wrap this up tighter than a Christmas present. Yeah. I’ll call you tomorrow with the time and place.”
He clicked off the cell abruptly. Had he ever bothered to notice, he might have known that everyone he ever worked with considered him rude and obnoxious. But even if he had, he would not have cared, owing to those very apt descriptions. Rude might not be too hard to ignore, but arrogance could lead to disaster.
At Louise Farnetti’s apartment, early afternoon...
Lisa Kovic had left only a short while before; leaving Jo grateful, Louise energized, and Darla confused, scared, and oddly still moving into a much- needed peace.
A knock came at the door. Jo practically leapt from the couch; hobbling a wee bit as her left foot had fallen asleep. She opened the door to find Paul Manicone standing with daughters April and Aubrey at his side. The girls seemed a bit subdued, especially for two teenagers, but Jo knew pretty much ‘why the look?’
“Gina’s parking the rental.” Paul and the girls stepped inside and were greeted by awkward, nearly fearful hugs from Darla. April pulled her closer, surprising Darla.
“It’s okay, Aunt Darla…” For years it seemed it would never be okay, even with the girls covertly excited about having an aunt instead of an uncle. They loved Aldo, of course, but it was likely that their acceptance, albeit electronically, helped Darla through a transition wracked with disappointment and doubt. But what really surprise her was that Paul stared at her briefly before smiling with a decidedly obvious nod ‘yes.
“Maybe you two can go give Grandma a hug? I’ve got something I have to talk about with Darla and your Dad and your Mom?” Jo blew out a semi-relieved breath as the girls waved while walking into the bedroom.
“Gina wanted to walk over to the florists, so…” Paul seemed okay up to that point, but he began to tear up. Jo stepped closer, embracing the husband of the woman who had rejected her and Darla. Paul hadn’t followed suit so much as not disagree agree with Gina, leaving the family fractured for the most part. Jo turned to Darla.
“I didn’t want to say anything, since Gina wanted to be the one to tell you." Darla’s eyes widened in near fear, leaving Jo frustrated that she hadn’t quite said what she wished. Her frustration abated immensely when a voice came from the doorway.
“Don’t worry. I’m okay! Really!” Darla looked past Paul and Jo to find her sister smiling; perhaps the first time in years she had displayed any expression of affection toward Darla. But accompanying…or rather what did not accompany the smile was Gina’s long red hair – replace with a grayish brown haircut that looked more suited to a Marine recruit. Ironically.
“I guess I owe you an explanation?” Gina said as she stepped past Paul’ He squeezed her shoulder and she smiled tearfully, but still with a calmness Darla could not recall.
“But first?” She walked swiftly to Darla and threw her arms around her sister.”
“I’m ...I’m so sorry,” was all she could manage before she fell further into Darla’s embrace as she wept.
Across town…
A man and a woman sat in a booth at the back of the crowded restaurant, confident their conversation was safe under the noise of the diners.
“You really think… This isn’t a good idea,” the woman said as she idly pushed her eggs around the plate. The man grinned in response.
“It’s a great idea. No one knows what the hell is going on. You did your job. No time to get cold feet.” He snapped, but quickly softened. He reached across the table and grabbed her hand.
“One more day and we’ll be on a plane to destinations unknown. You know I’m right, right?”
“Yes,” she said with only a small bit of hesitation. The plan just had to work, didn’t it?
“I’ve got to pick up a few things even if we are traveling light. I’ll meet you at the motel in about an hour.” She went to rise and he grabbed her wrist.
“Don’t take all day,” he exaggerated but his urgency still seemed to push her. She nodded and walked out. The man grabbed his phone and tapped an icon. A moment later, he spoke.
“Of course. And this was easier than we had hoped. What? Yes, you’re off the hook. I’ll make sure there are no loose ends. Yes. In two hours…Yes….” He hit ‘end’ and pocketed his phone. Another grin crossed his face, broader and almost diabolical.
Meanwhile…
Jo peeked in and waved to Louise and the girls. April and Aubrey sat on either side of the bed and had their cell-phones out, showing Louise some of the kind notes each had received on social media about prayers for her from their friends.
“Could you get us some tea?” Louise had changed but still felt the need to prove herself. She added a seldom used phrase from their childhood.
“Pretty please with sugar on it?” Jo smiled, remembering kinder safer time for them, but when she turned her eyes filled with tears. So much time lost, she hoped there would still be time enough to say what needed to be said. She walked into the kitchen, but not before rubbing Gina’s shoulder. Her niece turned and smiled.
“You folks want some tea?” Nods all around and a quick return to long-delayed apologies. Gina spoke.
“I….” She bit her lip and shook her head. Paul stared at her with a piercing but loving look. She took a deep breath and continued.
“When Daddy left… we were kids, you know?” Darla tilted her head in question. Of course they were kids. Gina picked up on her questioned expression.
“Oh…we were kids and didn’t understand. Mommy was…” She paused and looked toward the bedroom and lowered her voice.
“Mommy was so angry at Daddy, but he wasn’t around, so you and I… It must have been our fault. Like we sent Daddy away. And then Connie got sick and Mommy was… “ That giant elephant had departed middle of the room for the most part more than a few years before but Louise’s problem with pills left its mark on everyone. Gina became the mom but was emotionally out the door.
“It wasn’t fair, Dar,” she snapped, but her demeanor quickly returned to remorse.
“I was stuck trying to take care of Mommy and help the nurses with…with Connie. You were just… I’m so sorry. It wasn’t your fault, but when you started talking about this....” She used her hand in a broad gesture to point to Darla’s body.
“Oh fuck,” she said as she looked again to the bedroom door.
“When Paul and I… I got pregnant, and we had to get out. Connie was already …. Gone,” she gasped, feeling guilt slam against her once more.
“We made a life for ourselves…two little girls and a mortgage and a brother who was….” She sighed and shook her head in self-correction.
“You just being yourself after you got back left me with one more excuse not to care. I was angry at Daddy, at Mommy, at you. I was even angry at Connie for dying, is that fucked up or what?”
“I…” Darla interrupted.
“It was my fault that Daddy left. That Mommy… that Connie got sick. That you went away…My fault.” Darla lowered her face and began to weep. Gina hugged her and kissed her face.
“NO! No,” she softened, continuing to kiss away Darla’s tears.
“I… I know I didn’t get sick to be punished. Connie didn’t die to punish us. But when I got sick, I thought about how much time I wasted being angry and hateful. Like I forgot how sweet Connie was when she…. Like we had all the healing right in front of us.”
Darla nodded and touched her chest.
“I was so angry when Connie died, but it took seeing…When Amani died, I just couldn’t waste any more time hating. I stopped hating Mommy and I finally stopped hating myself,” Darla sobbed
“What about…me?” Gina gasped.
“I never stopped loving you, Gee… Never.” She held out her arms and Gina fell into her as both women sobbed. Paul looked over to Jo and mouthed ‘thank you.’ Jo had never given up. Every day from the moment Louise rejected her until now was filled with an abiding faith and a life of prayer that now served to knit her family back together.
Late afternoon at the precinct break room…
“Hey Petrovic? How’s our girl doing?” Lisa paused as her face grew hot.
“Uh… the precinct…” She quickly added. Alex chuckled as he poured coffee into two dark blue NYPD mugs.
“Dark, no sugar?” As he poured half-and-half, he mused silently,
“Wow, she really fits in.” Handing a mug to her, he sat down at the table across from her and smiled wryly.
“What?” Lisa said, her face tilted in a defensive, questioning posture. He caught her meaning and replied as he placed his mug down.
“Listen, Officer Kovic… You might get by with the strong-as-iron thing with some of these guys, but you’re…. readable.” Since Lisa’s sexuality was no secret, Alex’ word was puzzling. She squinted a bit and he continued.
“I’ve known you since you got here from Brooklyn. You’re diligent and nobody’s braver than you, sister.” He smiled as she blushed, big brother guy that he was.
“But you’re caring and sweet when no one is looking. Giving, in fact. Like helping people you care for when nobody’s looking. You know?” Her eyes widened in a small bit of dread.
“I know that you paid for Louise Farnetti’s extra help… don’t pretend… you’re a lot of things, but you’ll never win Tony.” She went to protest but Alex laughed softly.
“Besides, I know Tamika and the agency, and I was at the office adding my own help when her supervisor asked if she could call you about some details.” He reached over and patted her hand.
“Your secret ...secrets are safe with me.” Lisa pulled her hand back.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said weakly before continuing.
“It’s no secret Shari and I split. But….” Her eyes began to tear up. She realized she was crying and looked around in panic.
“It’s okay, Lees… Nobody else knows. You said something a while back about being hurt, we were riding together one time while Darla was at some training. Your… your mother’s death was hard, but you weren’t hurt by it… “ She grew red.
“I mean someone did something to hurt you.” She nodded and lowered her face a bit.
“She had an affair with some med sales rep… that’s why she moved away…” Lisa bit her lip and followed it with a gasp.
“She moved out months ago, but…”
“I’m so sorry, kid. Nobody deserves that; especially after losing your Mom.” He patted her wrist again and this time she didn’t resist.
“And there was no one to talk to. Uh… One evening after our tour, Jerico had a late doctor’s appointment and I was by myself in the locker room. I thought I was alone since it was well past shift and I was thinking about Shari. I just started crying; my eyes squeezed close, you know?” Alex could only imagine.
“I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up and Darla was staring at me… Like I… She didn’t ask any questions at first, but her eyes… like I was the only person in the world.” Lisa turned away.
“Oh, I know she was still dealing with her fiancé’s death even after all that time, and I knew about her mom…” Lisa cringed at the word, still recalling her own grief. Alex nodded, a half-smile and tender eyes urging Lisa to continue.
“But in that moment…. I knew she was crying for me….For me. Alex. And I…. You have to believe me. I didn’t want… It was too soon.”
Alex nodded, finally realizing he had read Lisa Kovic all along as she looked around again, hoping the solitude of the moment remained. Her lip quivered as she recalled the morning. Alex Petrovic wasn’t the only one who read her, but really, her feelings were not obvious or broadcast for all to see.
“I…” was all Lisa could get out before she threw caution to the wind, so to speak. Privacy be damned, since the gentle touch by another at the urging of Louise Farnetti gave the brave girl a wee bit more courage as she wept freely, all the while repeating,
“I love her, Alex… I love her…”
Meanwhile…
Reunions arise from all sorts of life decisions and divergent paths. The Farnetti family was experiencing a renaissance of sorts as the rift between mother and daughters and sister to sister was being healed. Jo Bianchi took no pride but a great deal of relief and peace over her answered prayers. She stood against the kitchen door frame, arms folded in a self-hug. A moment later she felt a hand touch her back.
“Jo?” She turned to find the face of Tamika Bettencourt smiling at her even as Tamika’s hand guided her away from the isolation of the kitchen.
“We’ve know each other for a very long time, Jo. I know there’s more going on than just this,” she said, using her hand in a broad gesture to indicate the relaxed conversation between Gina and Darla.
“It’s wonderful, Dear one, but you seem a bit distracted, and I know you well enough to know there’s more to be done. But you never ask…” Tamika pointed upward.
“You never ask for anything for Jo Bianchi. You need to trust god to this whole family and maybe think about just what it is that you want, yes.” Tamika drew Jo into a sisterly hug.
“He comes by. He wants to give you space because of all that today represents.” Jo felt like disagreeing; her emotional default set to unworthy. She closed her eyes, wondering just why Alex had stayed away, given the day’s importance. She wasn’t angry so much as confused and scared that her always-present belief that she was unlovable pushed hard against her heart. She was about to speak when Tamika thrust an envelope into her hand.
“I’ve got to attend to Louise, Jo. Go sit down and take a bit of time for yourself. There’s fresh coffee, okay?” Tamika stepped away, her hand lingering in encouragement before she went to check on Louise.
Jo walked back into the kitchen and poured coffee into the mug she’d abandoned hours before. She sat down and placed the mug in front of her as she eyed the envelope.
JO
She recognized the handwriting and sighed, fearing the worst. She opened it and sighed once more, her eyes avoiding the writing until something hopeful urged her to read.
Dear Ms. Bianchi,
I know the day’s demands may leave you feeling overwhelmed. I didn’t want to interrupt with a quick phone call, and I can’t get there until my shift ends. I wanted to tell you two things that you really need to know.
First, your family comes first for the time being. All the love you’ve put into this day is seeing fruition, but there remains a very real sadness for what is to come. You remain in my prayers, such as they are.Second?
Convention demands that things are what we expect, but circumstances require otherwise. We’re old enough to know what we want, and I know what you need… what we both need. And what you do need at this time is hope. The moment may come all too soon, even today or tomorrow…” Jo looked up and gasped. As a nurse, the reality of the moment was too strong to deny. She blinked back tears.
“A phone call is not proper, and you need to know now so that the hope this message intends will see you through until tonight.” She sighed again, a fear unlike any other she had ever known seemed to hit her hard. What if what I hope for never comes to pass? But even more painful fueled by that doubt in herself? What if what I long for does come to pass. She resumed reading even as tears spilled from her face.
“I love you, Giuseppina Marie Bianchi. I have always known you were the woman for me. I want to spend every day loving you, and I hope you feel the same. I’ll see you tonight. Until then, all my love to you. Alex
With that one last sentence, every bit of self-doubt and shame and sadness was washed away like cleansing rain, soft and fragrant and beautiful. Jo looked away and sighed deeply in peace before lowering her head to the table where she wept freely in joyful relief.
The precinct…
Lisa and Alec were finishing their coffee when Sipowitz stuck his head in to the break room.
"Hey, Petrovic? Cap wants you in her office." He paused and noticed the somber look on Lisa's face.
"Hey, Kovic? You switchin' teams?" He laughed until Lisa put her hand to her face, stifling a sob. Alex picked up on it and faced Sipowitz,
"We're talking about Darla's mom, Sipowitz. Give it a rest, huh?" Sipowitz shook his head slightly before taking another step in his own transformation. He looked away, feeling a good amount of shame over his behavior. He turned around to them and frowned.
"Sorry. I... I know you're close to the family, Al... I lost my dad last year, and I..." He looked directly at Lisa.
"I know it was really hard when your mom died. I...I was a bastard, and I'm sorry...I'm so sorry," he said as he looked to Alex for help with an exit. Alex nodded and smiled without comment. Sipowitz nodded in return before speaking again.
"Let me know if there's anything else I can help with?" He smiled at Alex and spoke one last time.
"Lisa? You're a good cop, and I shoulda said this sooner. You're..."
The words got stuck and he just smiled before walking out. Lisa looked at Alex before bursting into tears once again. Alex rubbed her arm as she wept, hoping that things had to get better for the rest of the day. He would not be disappointed. He heard the chime from his cell. He opened it to find a display – 1 New Message. He scrolled to messages where the first entry read ‘unavailable.’ He hit the accept icon and the message appeared.
Later…
Jo had drifted into a much-needed half-sleep. She awoke with a start when she heard Aubrey call from the bedroom,
“Mom? Aunt Jo? Somebody? There’s something wrong! Nana? Wake up? Wake up?”
At the same time at Lisa Kovic’s apartment…
Lisa sat at the table in the barely furnished kitchen. Shari had given Lisa a fairly decent tradeoff for the furniture she took when she moved out, but Lisa had been stuck in mourning for the death of their relationship and barely paid attention to her immediate needs.
Décor was the last thing she would have bothered with under the best of circumstances so the kitchen was sparse other than a used table and two mismatched chairs; a painfully ironic commentary on her life. But a renewal of sorts had begun earlier at Louise’s apartment and had taken hold in her time with Alex. She bowed her head.
“God? I’m sorry I haven’t kept in touch. I was sort of angry at you for what happened between me and Shari, and I know that’s not what…. She and I just didn’t quite fit together and…” She paused and shook her head. Raised in a home where her father’s catholic beliefs melded oddly with her mother’s Jewish roots Lisa found acceptance; odder still that they thankfully knew their daughter’s love for girls was just right. Her amalgam of faith never went away even if it was quiet.
“That’s not why I’m here…with you? But I guess you already know that?” She blinked back a few tears and continued.
“When Mommy died I hurt inside so much. But I got to spend time with her, and I know there was never a single day that she didn’t say she loved me. Could you….”
Her face was getting hot. Can anyone be embarrassed before the creator of the universe? She smiled at her shame in a way as the presence of something or someone dispelled the ill feelings she held against herself. Her motives might not have been completely altruistic, but her heart was, as they say, pure.
“Let Darla’s Mom live long enough to tell her…. She has to love her, right? Don’t all Mommies love their little….” With that she laid her head on the table and sobbed; mostly in the lingering grief of her own loss but also in travail, as it has been described, through the tears of prayer for the girl for whom she had fallen …
Meanwhile…
The chart fell to the floor as Tamika Bettencourt jumped up from the chair. She quickly but gently waved Aubrey aside and lifted Louise’s hand.
“It’s okay… just give me a few moments,” she said as Aubrey and April joined their parents in the living room. A few anxious minutes later, she stood at the bedroom doorway; a relieved smile allaying everyone’s fears.
“She’s okay, and she’s coming around. When a patient is dealing with as much pain as your mom is…” She looked back and forth between Gina and Darla.
“The tough part is to balance between managing the pain and keeping her lucid. She wanted to…. She needs to talk with everyone, so that balance has to be made. Sometimes…a lot of times, in fact, the medication works too well, and you see what happened. I’ve adjusted it, so she will be awake.”
She sighed. It was absolutely essential for everyone that Louise was conscious, but that meant a return of the all too devastating awareness of pain. She was going to continue but a voice called from behind.
“Uh….J….Joey? JoJo?” Jo stepped closer and sighed, feeling a sad if wonderful recollection of endearments past.
“JoJo? Can I have some tea?” Louise raised her head as Jo stepped into the room.
“Okay…LouLou,” was all Jo could mange before she fell onto the bed and embraced Louise. A second later she felt Louise stroking her hair.
“Momma says I have to come, but I told her I had to spend time with my girls.” Aubrey turned to her mother and Gina nodded with a disappointed look until Louise added,
“My granddaughters are beautiful, and I told both of them how much I love them….. Now I need to talk with my girls.” Paul smiled as he realized what Louise had been saying all along. She rose up just a little in bed and patted Jo on the back.
“Where are my girls? Gina?” She called; her voice barely above a whisper. Gina looked at her husband and he nodded and smiled as he pushed her gently toward the door. Her face was a mixture of wonder and sadness and fear, since it truly was hard to believe and too fearful to hope.
“Gina? Connie says she loves you. Me too. Come sit with Mommy for a while, okay?” Louise patted the bed. Jo got up and went to leave but Louise grabbed her wrist.
“All of my girls, JoJo, okay?” Jo wiped the tears from her face with her hand even as more fell onto the brightly colored crocheted comforter that covered her sister. Louise sighed in relief as her request was honored. Darla peeked in at the reunion and smiled even while her heart was breaking. She felt like Aldo, again outside looking in...
Meanwhile…
Lisa looked up from the table, almost craning her neck to gain some sort of heavenly perspective. Her faith had waxed and waned the past few years, but in her heart of hearts, she wanted to believe. A Jewish mother and a catholic (small c) father whose love thrived and grew before her eyes had convinced Lisa that there truly was a god.
And if that was the case, then didn’t he or she hear her? That she prayed on behalf of someone else had to count, right/ But in the end it was not a barter but a trust that her prayers would make a difference, especially when measured against the hope she set aside for herself. She smiled even as she continued to sob….
Almost at the same time...
“Darla? Darla?” The voice was fading if still tenacious and insistent. She pleaded, the distance… the gulf between her and Darla seemed almost too unforgiveable to be spanned,’
“Mommy,” Darla gasped as she stepped inside the room. Louise rested her head on the pair of pillows Jo had moved. She waved weakly to Darla, who walked to her side.
“You don’t have to…Mommy? It’s Okay…”
“I know.” She motioned Darla to lean closer.
“Kiss me, my baby?” Darla put her hand to her mouth to stifle a sob. Louise used both of her hands to grasp Gina and Jo as Darla kissed her mother.
“I…Mommy? Love…love you.”
“Me too, and Gina? And Jo?” In turn, Gina and Jo got up and stood at the bedside’; anxious, dreadful, and grateful as they kissed Louise.
“Connie told me she misses all of you, but she said she can wait, okay? And to tell Paul that he’s a really nice guy. And she thinks that you’ll all be okay because Gina is a good girl.” At that, Gina fell across Louise’s legs and sobbed much like Jo had only minutes before.
“You…” She raised her hand weakly and touched Jo’s cheek.
“I love you, JoJo. Let someone love you too?” Jo nodded as the tears continued to fall from her face. Finally Louise waved to Darla to come closer again. She patted Darla’s cheek, not so gentle, either.
“Time to get on with your life, okay? “ While Louise mentioned no names, the brief moments she held Lisa’s hand seemed to come back like a vivid dream and in some way, she fell in love for the very first time.
“She…she’s nice…..” Louise pulled Darla close and kissed her on the lips; a blessing perhaps long overdue but just time to bring healing
“I think I want coffee instead,” she whispered as she laid her head back. She smiled; a heavenly twinkle seemed to brighten her eyes before they dimmed peacefully for the last time. Tamika stepped to the bed, noting the time silently as she spoke.
“I am so sorry,” she grasped Jo’s wrist and nodded, her gentle smile diminishing as her tears mirrored every eye….
Moments later…
Lisa tried to raise her head. An overwhelming sense of grief and loss seemed to hold her down until another, stronger sense made its presence known. Somehow in the midst of grief for a woman she had barely met she knew that her prayers had been answered.
Nevertheless, her newfound feelings for Darla and her family urged her to a quieter sad if growing peaceful knowledge that everyone had heard and spoken of the love they had for Louise Farnetti. She laid her head once again on the kitchen table and wept, but her prayers were now hopeful; both for herself and the woman she had realized was going to be a welcome part of her life, even if they had yet to speak of it to each other.
As she wept, a presence seemed to come over her. She gasped as a touch and a few words filled her heart. She sat up and grabbed her cell phone.
“Hello….”
At the same time….
Alex climbed into the police cruiser. It had begun to rain and he wondered if god was crying over the family. He stared at the text on his phone.
Texts don’t save tears, but if he could see her crying; some were tears of sadness, but many more had to be tears of joy, if he really knew her? He did know her, didn’t he?
“Fuck,” he muttered. He had hoped to be with Jo but an attempted purse theft left him with a trip to the precinct and booking a twelve-year-old who should have been in school instead of accosting an eighty-three year old great-grandmother in his own apartment complex. Lisa had offered to pick up the remainder of his shift, but he was already in central booking and then got pulled into a meeting with the captain that ended only minutes ago.
“Sorry,” he said, looking upward. Surely god might overlook stuff like words and anger? At least where family was concerned, however into the future they might be. He hit ‘back’ to scroll down to another message.
Alex smiled and wiped away the traces of tears. He was not ashamed of crying, but he had more pressing things to think about for the next two hours. Time enough to weep for Jo’s family when he finally got finished with his day. He sighed in frustration, determined to keep things safe for them, but still unsure if some karmic plot was destined to make a perfectly painful day for the woman he loved. He scrolled to Jo’s number and hit ‘call.’ After a quick forward to voicemail, het hit ‘text.’
Elsewhere….
The man stared at his cell phone. He shook his head and laughed before walking
out the motel room to his car. Getting in, he checked the magazine of the Glock sitting on the passenger seat before driving off…
At Louise Farnetti’s apartment…
Darla sat at the kitchen table. The emergency crew had already taken her mother’s body, leaving her quite alone. Luchiano was under the table, rubbing Darla’s legs while offering a contented purr.
Jo had walked Gina downstairs to a waiting Uber to head back to the hotel and the nurses had left after a very sweet and sad farewell to Louise Farnetti.
Darla thought she heard something or someone to her right, but no one was there. She sighed in frustration. Jo seemed to always make it safe to cry, but Darla was having no problem crying. As she raised the half –empty mug of coffee to her lips, she heard a voice, but it wasn’t from without, as some might say. She gasped as the moment overtook her, as sad and as hopeful an amalgam of emotion anyone might feel. She blinked back tears and a smile began to emerge as Darla finally knew that she knew…
At the apartment about an hour later….
Jo and Darla were sitting at the kitchen table, talking in almost whispers when Alex walked in. He nodded and sat down. A moment later Gina walked in.
“I forgot my purse she said,” smiling at Jo. Jo nodded as Gina sat down in the living room, reaching into the large purse sitting on the floor by the sofa. Her head turned suddenly at the sound of the front door opening. A man stood in the doorway, his figure backlit by the hallway light outside – Lou Chastain, former government wonk and quasi-spy cum historic artifact thief. He stepped in and closed the door and lifted the Glock in his left hand, motioning for everyone to stand.
“Don’t even think about it,” he said as he pointed the pistol in the direction of the kitchen. Alex and Darla raised their hands slowly. Jo remained still until another motion urged her to raise her hands as well.
“In here,” he said. They walked in and stood lined up on the wall opposite the sofa.
“Just in case you get any patently foolish ideas?” He rudely grabbed Gina from the couch, holding her in front of him while pointing the Glock at her head.
“I’m sure nothing is as of much value as a family member,” he laughed.
“I guess….” Gina stammered. She looked only slightly at him before stomping down hard on his shin. He howled in pain, and the ploy would have worked but Gina…or rather Officer Lisa Kovic… tripped and fell to the floor. He pointed the Glock at her and fired one round into her chest before turning his attention back to the three.
“Where is the stone?” He demanded with a wave of his hand. He sneered and them.
“You mean this one?” a voice came from the bedroom doorway. He turned to find Beseema Farouk holding a large blue object in her right hand.
“Surprised Mr. Chastain? Oh, I imagine you imagined after the text you got from your girlfriend? Something like… ‘She begged for her life before I shot her? She says she slipped the stone into the nurse’s purse?’ You should know, Lou? I never beg.”
He pointed the Glock at her.
“So stupid to bring it here,” he scoffed, completely missing her very obvious point.
“Oh, did I forget to explain that your friend has been on our radar for months? And that the police arrested her last night? Still, it’s wonderful to see you. Here. The fruit of your labor,” she said, tossing the stone to him. He caught it with his free hand still keeping aim at her. A second later he screamed in rage as the blue of the ‘stone’ rubbed off on his palm. He went to fire at her, but his aim was thrown off as a bullet shattered his left elbow.
“I guess it’s okay to say ‘ow?’” Lisa stood up, feeling the effects of the thud-inducing impact of bullet-on-Kevlar. She shoved her Sig in his back and laughed.
“You have the right to shut the hell up, you fucking bastard!” While Lisa was never known to be ladylike with any Miranda recitation, her language was a bit more pointed since she was looking right at her friends. She laughed.
“Sorry about the elbow. I was thrown off from the pain. I meant to hit you square in the back.” She pulled out handcuffs and secured his arms behind him, making especially sure to twist his left elbow. A few moments later a man and woman in FBI windbreakers came and escorted him out.
“I truly am sorry it came to this, but I can assure you this is the last time you’ll see me.” Beseema offered a hand to Jo.
“I understand.” Jo was still reeling from her sister’s death and had no strength to add any other word.
“You used my family.” Alex assumed his spot as ‘big brother’ and continued.
“After all this, what’s the upside? How many people were hurt or killed for a fucking sapphire? Where is it, by the way?”
“Safely held at a secure location. It, like too many other things in our world, is more important than even people. I was never as close to anyone, my family included, as I was to Mahmoud.” She sighed; steeling herself to withhold real tears which would likely spill freely after her boss debriefed her.
“The stone will be used as a bargaining chip in the card game between Iran and the United States. A bloodstone that was probably cursed the moment it was fashioned into the Blue Peacock for the Shah. Yes, Officer Petrovic. Too many lives.” She nodded to him and Jo. Darla had already stepped out and was nowhere to be found.
“As-Salaam-Alaikum,” Beseema said in parting.
“Mualaikumsalam, Ms. Farouk,” Jo said with a smile. In a moment Jo and Alex were standing face to face.
“I’ll be downstairs, guys. I texted your niece Gina. She and her family are fine, Jo. Catch you later?” Lisa rubbed her shoulder once again, whistling ‘what I did for love’ as she walked down the hallway to the elevator.
“Mualaikumsalam?” Alex tilted his head in question.
“I know. After all that’s happened? I just like keeping short accounts, and we all deserve a measure of peace after today, don’t we….” She began to stammer as the impact of her sister’s death finally emerged from behind the tyrannical urgency of the last few hours.
“I…” was all Jo could manage before she fell into Alex and wept.
Shortly thereafter…
Lisa walked down the block, eyes searching with the expectation of disappointment. But fate and a strategically placed streetlight shined down upon her…or rather on the police cruiser parked a few yards further down the street.
She walked up to the driver’s side but far enough away to be seen without startling Darla. The window was open and Darla was leaning on the door looking up at her mother’s apartment.
“You…you got a second?” Lisa needed so much more than a second, but then again so did Darla.
“Hop in?” Lisa nodded. She reached over and squeezed Darla’s arm, evoking a wince. Walking around, she got in the front passenger side.
“I…I need to talk with you,” they said almost in the same instant; their voices almost winding together, followed by two nervous giggles.
“You first.” Darla insisted. Lisa didn’t wait but accepted the invitation.
“I… I was by myself… sort of. I had planned to grab the rest of the bottle of Malbec I had in the fridge after today’s…” She immediately regretted her words. If her day was hard, what had Darla’s been like. But Darla smiled nervously and nodded; prompting Lisa to continue.
“I’m not trying to…I mean everybody you know….Your mom….Oh fuck.” Tears welled in her eyes and she went to get out of the car. But Darla gently grabbed her hand and shook her head know; giving Lisa more leave to speak.
“I heard a voice….My….My Mom. She said…Mommy said you needed me.” I thought it meant to come here, especially after I talked with Alex….But….” She trailed off while muttering another expletive under her breath.
“It’s okay…. I…. go ahead, Leese…..” Darla turned her head only slightly toward Lisa.
“But…. When I got here, I knew….Oh God, Farnetti? Why the fuck did you have to be so….”
“So what, Leese?”
“I have been carrying around a…. Before I split with my girlfriend I was already…. And then that day right after she left and you held my hand? I’m so sorry.” Lisa once again tried to leave, but Darla’s grip had turned from gentle to iron.
“Please, Lisa? Stay? I…I have…” Darla felt so selfish, and she began to stammer.
“Mommy’s gone and here am I….Buhhh…but….” She bit her lip and half-smiled; a sense of relief wove itself into the moment and she spoke.
“I was by myself for a while when Gina went back to the hotel. I tried to rest, but every time I closed my eyes I kept seeing Mommy holding my hand and yours like she did. And she smiled…with her eyes, Leese, like she ….It was like she…”
Darla began to weep. A second later, the softest touch she had ever felt came from the toughest…maybe the second-toughest woman she ever knew… the hand gently wiped away Darla’s tears.
“I know. Mommy said she talked with your Mom and they….They think it’s a wonderful idea.” Darla’s eyes widened in worry; not that it would happen but fearful that it wouldn’t.
“Is it okay….” Lisa breathed out a sigh.
“Is it okay if I love you?” Lisa bit her upper lip.
“Oh…okay? I…. Is it okay if I love you?” Darla squinted as Lisa thought.
“Yes. It is okay,” Lisa said as if she was negotiating a new contract as union rep. Darla smiled as she wiped away the remainder of her tears with her sleeve.
“I don’t know how this stuff works….when my Mom tells me something….when she’s up there? It’s like it’s really just my heart. I don’t want to rush you or manipulate you. You mean too much to me. We…. I’ve got to take this slow…. For… for our sake. You understand?” Darla nodded and smiled and answered.
“Yes… take it slow… I don’t want to hurry you either. You…you mean too much too me.” Lisa nodded at her reply but a smile came across her face. She breathed out like a diver taking a plunge.
“Is it okay if we start?” She would have waited for an answer, but Darla pulled her into a kiss, all the while murmuring through mushed lips,
“Start….yeehhhessss.”
At Gina's and her family’s hotel room the day after the funeral…
Gina sat in the kitchenette across from Jo. Darla stood, leaning against the sink waiting for the third pot of coffee to brew.
“I hate that….” Gina shook her head and sighed. Jo knew what she was going to say and was shaking her head no even as the words escaped her niece’s lips.
“But that’s just why everything… When your mom rejected me I…. I had to come to understand that we’re all flawed,” Jo said. She stood up and walked to Gina, lifting her up into an embrace.
“Little steps as long as they are going forward, sweetie,” Jo said, rubbing Gina’s back. Gina collected herself, a small if identifiable evidence of healing. She breathed out and smiled.
“Paul has a temporary transfer to the New York office, so we will be here…. His company leased us a place. The girls are fine with being here getting to know their aunts, and we got the school’s okay to home-school them until we get back to Napa.”
“I’m just glad that I have my favorite teacher,” April said. Aubrey nodded enthusiastically.
“So tomorrow at Luigi’s?” Jo asked. Alex had walked in with Paul; both carrying Burmese takeout. He shrugged at her words.
“We’ll make sure we find a nice table so we can watch the celebs drop by, okay girls?” Alex teased.
“Molto divertente, Zio Alex,” Aubrey said as she poked his ribs.
“We’ll see you tomorrow,” Jo said as she retrieved her purse. April waved at her mother, mouthing silently,
“Shhhh, somebody’s got a secret.” She rolled her eyes just in case her sarcasm was lost on everybody.
“Bye, you guys,” Paul waved as the two walked out.
Jo’s apartment doorway, a short while later…
“I hate that you were alone.” Alex shook his head.
“Oh…. You know…. I couldn’t be there. Of course you weren’t alone.” Something seemed to tap Alex on his spiritual shoulder and he used a gaze upward to add.
“And of course?”
“I know Al…. And you have to know you were never apart from me.” She patted her chest and grinned. And oddly it was Alex who commenced the likely all-night joyful cry-fest. He smiled.
“I can’t believe all my dreams….” Jo pulled Alex into the apartment, but cautioned him with a gesture to stay at the doorway,
“I had to show you this. If it means I ruin everything? We’re adults, Alex. Even if we’re childlike sometimes and our hopes still include what we prayed for when we were little.” He nodded at her words, somewhat confused. She pulled out a spiral notebook from the bookcase by the kitchen.
“Here,” she said, suppressing an understandable if entirely necessary preemptory sob. The notebook wasn’t all that old. He looked at the cover, mint green with flowers bordering the edge. And hand written in ink, like a teenager‘s longed for dream.
Alex looked back and forth between the writing and Jo’s sad half-smile. He held the notebook out and laughed softy.
“Got a pen?” He raised his eyebrows slightly, a conspiratorial grin crossing his face. She pulled a pen from her cardigan and handed it to him. He wrote for a few moments before showing her. Her face went from quizzical to doubtful, but moved quickly as he nodded and smiled.
He reached up and touched her cheek softly before pulling her into the most precious moment in her life as he kissed her. She cooed softly as their lips pressed and scraped; bites and soft slow movement giving way to a very long embrace both of them needed.
And a few hastily drawn scribbles graced the back of the notebook.
And finally a quaint little heart with an arrow drawn through it with the words,
Jo sat in the living room. Her supervisor insisted that she forgo a second shift despite her offer. Three weeks after her sister’s death; she was exhausted. She downed the last of her second mug of coffee and stared out almost blankly. Way too soon to hope that the pain would even diminish, much less go away completely. She mused….
“Jeez, Jo? How many moms and dads have you held, knowing that their pain will never go away? She shook her head at that reality.
“Hey, Lulu? Why did you wait so long?” Her words accused her immediately. Wasn’t she the example of faith? Didn’t she forgive her sister? But forgiveness never seems to take the edge off of loss. She almost felt guilty just to sigh over the hurt.
“Hey?” Alex sat down and kissed her on the cheek.
“From where she’s sitting, she understands. And she knows….She knows how much you miss her and?” He took a long draught from his travel mug; his third cup of coffee.
“She knows it did take forever….” He wasn’t fool enough to let it go. Her hurt was real, and despite every silly expectation he might harbor about her super-hero status, she was still a human being with frailties and strengths. He had nothing much to offer for the moment, but what he had he gave to her.
“I love you, Jo. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere if I have anything to say about it. Come?” He raised her to her feet and kissed her. A brief if completely and earnestly romantic display.
“Come?” He held her left hand as he walked her down the hallway to a well-deserved nap.
Later that afternoon...
“It’s okay,” Alex said; his elbow propping up his head as he wiped a stray hair from Jo’s face.
“It’s…. I’ve never felt so much love in my life. Alex. You….”
“You act as if you’re the only one who gets to be blessed, Jo. You pretty much make me forget everything else when we’re together. Reading the paper on Sunday? Cleaning and cooking on a Thursday night after work? Like I’m wrapped up in you.” He shrugged, almost dismissing his own frankness. She began to cry.
“Hey, what did I say?” He pleaded.
“It’s not just what you say….” She gasped.
“It’s that you’re here to say it.” She tried not to smile, as if by displaying any measure of satisfaction, her words would somehow diminish. He brushed the same hair from her face, leaning in for a kiss. She went to turn, as if to deny herself any happiness.
Even continued presence struggled to push past the slowly fleeing remainder of her doubts. He marshaled on, as they say, and grabbed her face softly before bestowing a kiss. The kisses might take on other meanings at other times, but this kiss was yet another in an increasing line of expressions solely meant to bless her.
“You know? Don’t get the wrong idea. I am looking forward to you, but right now? This is my only way other than doing the laundry or cooking dinner when we’re both tired….” He kissed her again and continued.
“I love you, my sweet Jo. I am about as happy as anyone can be, and hell… How does that song go? We’ve only just begun?” He punctuated the moment by settling down beside her, drawing her into another kiss…
“You…” Alex held Jo in his arms and sighed. No need to finish the sentence. Everything he ever needed was lying beside him. And she stirred just a bit in his embrace and cooed,
“You, too.”
Comments
I Remember
When you first posted this. It's just as powerful and lovely now as it was then. The trademark love of an Andrea DiMaggio story.
Love and loss and life
‘Drea, no-one can convey the turmoil of love and rejection, insecurity and longing, and the ecstasy of acceptance quite like you do. Of course, you wrapped this one in with a spy-thriller and police drama, but the love stories are — as always — the beating heart of your tale. Bravo!
Emma
We’ve only just begun
lovely
I needed this
I don’t remember it being posted before, but I always appreciate your stories. They have an emotional connection, a punch, that always feels real.
Another big plus is how well you create multiple interacting characters and present their viewpoints in a way that brings them to life!
Thanks and glad to hear from you.
Gillian Cairns
I Love How
You wrapped up PTSD, international intrigue and LGBTQ issues Al in one story. I hate to use the term gut-wrenching, since it is overused. But that is what the story is to me. Your words reached inside me and twisted up everything. I cried a lot reading this tale. Alex’s heartfelt declaration of his love for Jo was so well written! There are so many things I could say if I had better writing skills. But let me just say that this is an amazing piece of work, and I thank you for sharing it.