January 2021 #3
“Wait, there’s more,” Hall continued. Stunning woman, she could have modeled if she hadn’t gone into law enforcement.
“She was a bit tipsy when she left, so she thinks she told her mother she was leaving, and she’s pretty sure she informed her that she wasn’t taking her daughter with her. But she’s not positive.”
“And the grandmother didn’t go and check?”
“It’s the first get-together, party, they’ve been to in a while, so they were all having a good time.”
“Why didn’t anyone answer the door when my husband knocked, and I’m sure, rang the doorbell?”
She shrugged. “I doubt they heard. They were all in the back, under tents, with heaters. I mean it’s great they were outside, but no one saw the little girl.”
“Plus, they’re all gonna get Covid because they’re not wearing masks,” O’Meara chimed in, nearly snarling.
“That’s the least of that woman’s problems,” Hall said curtly. “After all this, I can’t imagine that Ruby’s father is going to have to worry about getting sole custody anymore.”
“Are they going through a divorce?”
She nodded. “A bad one, apparently. That’s her boyfriend pacing out there, and he’s livid that we can’t just let this go.”
“He’s mostly pissed at you,” O’Meara told Sam. “Blames you for getting involved in the first place and alerting us.”
“As though letting a little girl walk around in the street by herself was a better alternative,” Hall pointed out, looking across the room at Ruby, who was asleep on the floor between Hannah and Jake.
They had made her a little nest of blankets, Hannah’s stuffed animals, and Dobby, who was curled up beside her.
“You did a great job making her feel at home.”
“Thank you.” I accepted the compliment, feeling the warmth in her words.
“Are all these kids yours?”
I pointed out the ones that were mine.
“Well, your daughter’s boyfriend and your son’s boyfriend look really comfortable here. That’s a testament to good parenting.”
I didn’t correct Harper’s status. The way the two boys always sat, nearly on top of each other, had prompted more than one comment like that over the years. “Can I get you both some coffee while we wait for Ruby’s father to show up?”
“No. Thank you,” Hall replied graciously. “We need to get some more information from the mother.”
“Are you going to let her come over and see her daughter?”
“That’s up to Mr. Bishop, Ruby’s father. Technically, per their divorce agreement, Ruby should be at her father’s house at this exact moment. Her mother was supposed to have dropped her off with him before eleven.”
These were specifics I was thrilled to have no experience with.
The detectives left then, after shaking our hands, and Sam led me quickly into the kitchen and then spun me around to face him.
“What’s the matter with you? You’re basically wilting in front of me.”
“Sorry, I—sometimes it gets thrown in my face how lucky we are, and instead of thinking about the good, I obsess on the what-ifs.”
“I see,” he placated me, easing me forward into his waiting arms.
“I’m not a child, Sam,” I groused at him.
“No,” he agreed, lifting my chin for a kiss. “You are not.”
Being kissed for any reason at all by Sam Kage was always a reward, so I didn’t grumble about the why and simply savored the closeness.
Thirty minutes later, Sam answered the door to a man who looked utterly broken and bereft. He appeared completely wrung out. He offered Sam his hand as he stood between the two uniformed officers—different ones from earlier—who had escorted him across the street.
“Thank you for saving my daughter’s life, Chief Deputy.”
“You are very welcome,” Sam assured him, and drew him inside.
“I didn’t know there were such things as knights in shining armor anymore.”
That was because men like Sam wore it on the inside these days.
After he walked over to Ruby, checked and kissed her, he was able to take a seat at our kitchen table, put his head in his hands, and come apart at the seams. Terrifying to think but for the fact that Sam was looking across the street at the same time she was walking into it, his daughter might have lost her life two days before Christmas.
Life was full of happy accidents, and Mr. Bishop had just enjoyed one.
That didn’t mean he was having an easy time dealing with everything.
Sam and I sat with him until he was sure he could drive and not have to pull over and fall apart.
Hannah came over when he was ready to go, introduced herself, and offered Mr. Bishop babysitting services.
I could tell he was in awe after speaking with my daughter for only a few minutes.
She was awfully together for sixteen. When Ruby woke up and gave him a sleepy greeting before staggering into his waiting arms, I sighed deeply, remembering when my own girl was that small.
“Okay, sweetie, we need to say goodbye to every––”
“No!” Ruby wailed, darting away from her father, bolting to Hannah and wrapping her arms around her hips.
He glanced at Hannah, who arched an eyebrow.
“Huh,” he uttered.
Hannah knew a kid who needed her to babysit when she saw one.
And when Jake squatted down beside the little girl, and she turned and leaned into him, arm over his shoulder, listening as he told her they’d see her real soon, Mr. Bishop learned that his daughter liked blond men with messy manes of hair, soft voices, and husky laughs as much as mine did.
“Honey,” Mr. Bishop blurted out, “we’ll have Hannah and…”
“Jake,” Hannah chimed in.
“Hannah and Jake over really soon,” he promised.
“Give Hannah your phone,” she told him. Even at three Ruby knew how people stayed in touch, and if they could call Hannah, that meant they could see her.
Mr. Bishop turned to look at Sam.
“You got a smart one there, God help you.”
He got my number, and I got his.
“You have family here in Chicago?” Sam surprised the hell out of me by asking.
“Uh, no, sir,” he answered with a forced smile. “My family is in Tulsa. My ex’s family is here in the city.”
Sam took a breath. “You and Ruby should come by for Christmas, then. We’d love to have you both.”
I was shocked.
Hannah stood staring at her father, mouth open, eyes wide.
Jake looked exactly the same.
“Are you sure?” Mr. Bishop asked him.
Instant glare, and I heard the younger man catch his breath.
“We would love to,” he accepted quickly, turning to look at me. “Anything I can bring?”
“Any dessert you’d like,” I told him.
I had everything we needed, but I’d found over the years that when people came over, they liked to bring something, and dessert was the easiest thing to send right back home with them.
“And what time should we––”
“What do you do?” Sam asked, taking a step forward.
“I teach college at Loyola.”
“What?”
“Chemistry.”
“So you’ve been teaching from home?”
Mr. Bishop glanced at me, and I nodded my answer. Because yes, clearly this was an interrogation.
“I have,” he assured Sam.
“So you’ve been home with your daughter?”
“Yes. She lives with me during the week, and her mother gets every other weekend.”
“You’ve quarantined, then?”
“We have. Ruby’s only been out tonight.”
He had, in fact, left his shoes at our front door.
“And Ruby has playdates?”
“Only with two other friends who live next door and also quarantine, and another down the hall from us.”
Sam nodded. “You can ditch the mask at Christmas, then.”
The man was thorough when he invited people into his home.
“Thank you,” Mr. Bishop offered with a long sigh.
“Come any time after ten in the morning, and call me Sam.”
Mr. Bishop’s first name was Theodore, but he went by Ted, not Theo. He had, he said, never met a good Theo, at least thus far.
“Me neither,” Sam grumbled, and I leaned into his side, so very pleased with him.
Once they left, I had my husband sit at the kitchen table so I could make him a late-night sandwich since he’d only picked at his dinner earlier, preoccupied with what was going on at work.
He was watching me when, out of the blue, Kola came up behind him, leaned over him, and wrapped his right arm gently around his neck before he hugged him.
“What is this?” Sam grumbled, the gruffness hiding his happiness. I saw what Kola couldn’t, Sam’s eyes close for a moment as he soaked in the closeness.
“You’re a good man.” Kola smiled as he kissed his father’s cheek. “You’re worried about Ruby maybe having caught something, but you’re letting them come for Christmas anyway because you know they need us. Way to have faith.”
And he was. I was very proud of the man I loved.
When Sam looked over at me, his son still hugging on him, I saw it there, gratitude for the life we’d made. But it was both of us, equally. We built our lives around each other.
That’s it, everyone. I hope you all had wonderful holidays, and let’s have a better 2021.