Chapter 10
N ick crushed his water bottle. How long does it take to set a cast?
Michelle left ninety minutes ago. The surgeon came out thirty minutes after to tell him his father was being wheeled into recovery where they would be setting his cast. Then, Nick would be able to see him.
“Mr. Jolley?” A nurse stood in the doorway.
“Yes.” Nick jumped up.
“You can follow me.” He held the door open. As Nick reached the door, he said, “Your father is awake but groggy.”
His father’s post-op room was one of a dozen that circled a central desk. A handful of medical personnel worked at the nurse’s station. The sound of beeps and chatter from the staff faded into the background when the nurse pulled the curtain aside.
Nick’s dad lay in a reclining position. The color of his complexion was almost as white as the bandage on his head. A blue sling covered the cast on his upper arm.
Nick’s stomach sank. In twenty-years of military service, he’d seen it all. Lost friends and brothers in arms, but not one of them came to mind. No, the image that flooded his mind was the one of his mom. It was in this same hospital, where he watched his mother take her last breath. She may have been injured on duty when the car hit her, but she died here with her family at her side.
“Nick,” a weak whisper slipped from across the room.
Nick almost didn’t recognize his father’s voice. He moved closer and reached for his father’s hand. His fingers shook.
Shit. He fisted his hand and closed his eyes. Get it together, Jolley.
Cold fingers feathered over his tight fist. Tears stung the back of Nick’s eyes.
“Son.” The haze in his dad’s eyes gave Nick pause.
“Are you in pain? Should I call the nurse?”
“Not bad. I still have the good drugs swimming in my veins.” His father gave a weak smile.
Russ Jolley, always seeing the bright side of things. Nick loved that about him, but right now, he needed to take care of his dad. To do that, Nick needed to look at all the sides, not just the sunny parts. “What happened?”
“I got hit by a car.”
“I know. Where were you going dressed as Santa?”
“The children’s ward at the hospital.” He raised his uninjured hand to circle the room.
“Why were you walking?”
He touched his head then flinched. “I don’t remember.”
“Dad, are you taking CBD oil?”
Russ’s face wrinkled. “What?”
“You know, the oil made from hemp?”
“Pot? No. Well, I tried it in college.” His voice trailed off.
He could see his father was fading. “You need sleep. We can talk about it tomorrow.”
“Okay.” Russ closed his eyes. “Sleep sounds good, but I’m hungry. Can I get a snack? ”
“Sure Dad, I’ll ask the nurse on my way out.”
“Uh huh. Oh, can you bring me the cookies?”
“You want cookies? Sure.”
“The ones on my desk. Yummy.” His dad smiled.
Nick frowned. “Dad, were you eating those cookies before you left for the children’s hospital thing?”
“Uh hmm. So good.” His head slipped to the side and his breathing evened out.
Could it be? Nick gently kissed his father’s cheek then slipped out of the room. He stopped at the nurse’s station. “My father was asking for a snack, but he fell asleep.”
“I’ll check on him, but it’s probably best to let him sleep. He will most likely sleep through the night. We will be giving him a sedative this first night.” He set his paperwork aside.
“The doctor said my father would stay a minimum of a night. Does he have any restrictions on food? Or can I bring him cookies?” Nick would be bringing cookies, but not necessarily the ones on his father’s desk. He’d ask Michelle to have those tested.
“He should be able to have snacks, as long as he’s not diabetic.”
“Thank you.” Nick slipped out. He’d be back in the morning, but now he had to see about some cookies.
***
Renae glanced into the dining room at the kids frosting cookies. “So, this thing with you and Nick is strictly business, yet you brought his daughter to baking day?”
“Shhh.” Michelle dropped her voice. “I told you. His dad is in the hospital and he didn’t have anyone else to watch her. ”
“Poor Russ. I’ll take him a casserole when he gets out of the hospital. Have you heard when that will be?” Her mom asked as she mixed a double batch of spritz cookies.
“No.” Michelle glanced at her phone for the tenth time in the last hour. Text already.
“Well, having Ava here is no problem.” Julie smiled. “I wish my kids all listened as well as she does. And the girl has talent. Did you see the Grinch cookie she made? Outstanding.”
Ava really was sweet. And smart. When Michelle pulled up to the pickup line at the school, she watched as Ava pointed to the patrol car then said something to her teacher before they walked over to the vehicle. She hopped in, set her backpack between her feet and buckled in.
Michelle had to remind herself, she was just like one of her nieces. After a fumbled attempt at conversation, Ava asked, “Do you have a taser?”
Michelle smiled. Most kids asked about a gun. “Yup.”
Ava stared out the window for a minute then asked, “Can I use it?”
“Why?” Kids asked all the time about her weapons, but something in Ava’s voice had Michelle thinking there was more to this.
“Timmy Wilson pulled my hair.”
“Did you tell him to stop?”
“Yeah, but he didn’t. I told my teacher, and she asked him to stop, but he did it again.”
Michelle couldn’t blame the girl for wanting to put a stop to the bullying. “Tell you what, I can’t lend you my taser, but I can talk to Timmy and his parents.”
“No, that’s okay. Dad offered to talk to them, too. I don’t think he would talk, though.”
“Why do you say that? ”
She looked out the window, then back at Michelle. “The first week here, our neighbor boy kicked dirt at me. Daddy saw it and when he talked to him, the boy peed his pants. I don’t want Timmy to pee himself.”
She was a nicer person than Michelle. If the kid was a bully, he was getting off easy with only a little involuntary bladder movement. Chances are little Timmy would do more than pee is pants if she tased him.
They didn’t say much after that. Once they arrived at Michelle’s parents’ house, Ethan snagged Ava’s hand and pulled her into the living room to play video games until the cookies were ready to frost.
Now, they had dozens and dozens of cookies covering every surface in the house.
Michelle watched as Ethan and Emma shoved cookies into their mouths. Not Ava. She carefully covered the tree-shaped cookie with green frosting then placed sprinkles for ornaments on top. Such a hard worker. Dedicated. If she didn’t already know her father was Army, she’d have guessed it by the way the girl organized her supplies.
“I think it’s time for samples.” Michelle sat next to Ava and picked up a blue bell-shaped cookie with every color of sugar on top. It was Emma’s, the five-year-old, masterpiece.
Curious blue eyes watched her as she munched on the sugar explosion.
“Mmm, Mom’s cookies are the best.”
Ave’s little pink tongue snuck out and touched the edge of her mouth as she perused the selection. Finally, she picked a snowman with red hots as buttons. Michelle watched as she took a bite.
Ava’s eyelids closed, and a hum slipped from her lips as she chewed. “This is good. Like Mama used to make.” The light in her eyes dimmed .
Without thought, Michelle covered her little hand with hers. “I’m sorry.”
She nodded.
“Did you make cookies with your dad last year?”
“Yes, but he forgot to put in the sugar. They didn’t taste very good.”
“Well, good thing you have Aunt Michelle this year to make sure you have real cookies for Santa.” The words just slipped out, naturally. But the second she mentioned Santa, Michelle’s chest clenched.
Ava examined her cookie. All the joy from a second ago fled her face. “Could you do me a favor?”
“Sure, sweetie. What is it?” Michelle held her breath. She didn’t know why, but suddenly, she’d do anything for this little girl.
“My dance team has to bring cookies for the bake sale this weekend.”
Her breath whooshed out. “Say no more. I got you.”
“Ava, would you like to help me roll out the dough?” Irene Swenson always had perfect timing.
Michelle mouthed, “Thank you” as Ava put on an apron.
“Make yourself useful.” Renae set a pan of cookies in front of her to decorate.
Michelle’s phone rang. Nick’s number popped onto her screen. She shuddered. He still had that effect on her. She slipped from the chair and sought out a quieter place in the house. With six kids, four women, and two dogs, her odds weren’t good, so she settled on the hall bathroom. “Hey, how’s Russ?”
His long breath slid over her nerve endings. “They have him sedated. He should be sleeping now.”
She wanted to ask if he was alright. What she could do for him? But knowing Nick, he wouldn’t want anyone’s help. Hell, the fact he asked her to watch his daughter surprised her. Old Nick didn’t need anybody. Maybe the military changed him?
“How’s Ava?”
“Good. Your girl has some talent. She could be on one of those baking shows.”
A grunt came through the receiver. No doubt he was only half listening. Knowing him, his mind was full with his father, the festival, and the sleigh.
“Nick?” Michelle lowered the toilet seat lid and sat on the blue fluffy cover. “I can—”
“I have to run another errand, then I will pick up Ava. And Michelle, I have something to talk to you about.”
A squeal and laughter cut through the door. Michelle cracked the door and listened. All was good. She closed it and leaned back on the counter. No way they could talk about the case with her sisters and kids in the house.
She sighed. “Tell you what, we’re almost done here. The last batch is going into the oven now. Why don’t I bring Ava to your place when it’s done, and we can talk there.”
Silence. Crap. Maybe that was a little too far over this new working-together arrangement. “Listen, it was just an idea.”
“I’ll text you my address. I’ll be home in twenty.”
Before Michelle could shake her stunned brain into action, he hung up and her phone pinged an incoming text.
Her phone shook in her hand. She slammed it on the counter and dropped her head to her chest. Did she just invite herself to his house?
She stared at her reflection. Yes. Yes, she did. “Ugh! This could go very bad.” She pushed off the counter. Her back hit the towel rack, and she exhaled. This wasn’t a booty call. She would drop off Ava, listen to what he had to say, and get the heck out of there .
Someone knocked on the door. She jumped. “I’ll be right out.”
She splashed some water on her face, washed her hands, then opened the door to find her sister-in-law.
“Is everything okay?” Liz’s gaze roamed Michelle’s face.
“Yeah, I’m good.” She patted the towel to her cheeks then looped it over the bar.
Brown eyes studied her a few moments longer, then she nodded. “If you ever need to talk, I’m here.”
“I know. And I’m good. Really.” Michelle didn’t know who she was trying to convince, Liz or herself. By the look on her sister-in-law’s face, Michelle could take a polygraph test and Liz wouldn’t believe her.
Liz leaned against the hall wall, waiting for her to come out of the bathroom. She didn’t say anything else, just watched with the eyes of a hawk, taking in every broken breath, twitch of the hand, and drop of Michelle’s gaze, and damn it, Michelle knew it and couldn’t stop any of it from happening.
“Fine. Come into my office.” Michelle said as she backed up and let Liz in. Her sister-in-law closed the door behind her and waited.
Michelle dropped her hip on the counter. “I was talking to Nick.”
Liz listened. Her open expression had Michelle spilling her guts.
“… And I will take her home. His home. It’s so…” she couldn’t say it.
“Personal.” At Michelle’s nod, Liz placed a hand over hers. “It’s only natural to feel unsure as you move forward with Nick.”
“We aren’t—”
Liz held up a hand. “By forward, I meant your new relationship—working, friendship, or otherwise. You are building new pathways with each interaction. First by working together, and second, your friendship.”
“We aren’t friends. Not anymore. ”
One perfectly shaped brow shot up. “Is his daughter not out in the kitchen right now baking cookies with your mother?”
“Well, yes, but…”
“And did you not sit at the hospital with him for most of the afternoon?”
Michelle sighed. “Yes.”
“And did you not let him weasel his way into your investigation?”
“How did you… Oh that’s right, I told you gals, but I don’t see how that counts.”
“Bullshit. You are a strong female cop. You wouldn’t let him in if you didn’t want him in.”
Shit, she was right.
“You already let him in. Only you can decide how far.” Liz patted her hand then walked out.
Liz was right. Michelle had let Nick in. Oh, he wormed his way in with the ease of a special ops guy infiltrating a compound. With stealth. That reminded her, she still needed to check on his position in the military.
The woman staring back at her from the mirror was older, wiser. She wasn’t the same girl as when he left for basic training. Then again, Nick wasn’t the same boy. And he was back.