Damaged Goods (Don't Call Me Hero Book 2) (24 page)

BOOK: Damaged Goods (Don't Call Me Hero Book 2)
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“Are you sure? How about something to eat then?” She gestured to her grocery bags overflowing with food. “It’s just me. I’ve got more than enough.”

“Thank you for the offer, but we’ve got to get back on the road.”

Once we left Mrs. Wiaczek’s home, I expected to get chastised by my FTO. I could practically hear his critique: we’re law enforcement, not Boy Scouts.

“You’re a real chick magnet, huh, Miller?” Mendez observed as we walked back to the car. To my surprise, there was no malice or malcontent in his voice. He might have actually been teasing me.

“Grandma magnet you mean,” I corrected. “Don’t be jealous she didn’t offer to make you food.”

Mendez patted his stomach over his bulletproof vest. “That’s okay with me. I gotta watch my girlish figure.”

“Why start now?” I laughed.

 

 

It was near the end of our shift when I got a call from Pensacola. We hadn’t spoken much since our shared beer at Spencer’s. Mendez was in a good mood—for him—that day, so I went ahead and took the call.

“Hey, buddy,” I greeted. “What’s up?”

“Claire’s water broke. The baby—it’s on its way.”

I couldn’t leave work fast enough. I practically began tearing off my uniform the moment Mendez parked the patrol car in the precinct garage.

Panicked thoughts crowded my brain as I drove as fast as I legally could to Regions Hospital in St. Paul. The baby was early—of that I was sure—but
how
early? I’d teased Claire about how big she’d gotten, but I had no idea how far along she actually was. She had to be close to her due date though because she and Pense hadn’t been able to fly from Detroit. Most commercial flights restricted pregnant women from traveling when they were that close to their due date.

When I arrived at the hospital, I tried Pensacola’s phone, but he wasn’t answering, so I had no idea where to go. Red faced and nervously sweating, I assaulted the hospital’s front receptionist with questions about maternity wards and premature babies. She looked unfazed by my behavior—she probably had to deal with people like me every day.

An elevator took me to the maternity level. The brief ride gave me a moment to collect myself, but I was as sweaty as ever. A second nurse’s station was positioned directly across the hallway from the elevator. The maternity ward was surprisingly quiet. I didn’t know what I’d been expecting—hordes of crying babies, I guessed.

A pleasant-enough looking woman sat at the nurse’s station. She smiled at me when I stepped off the elevator and we made eye contact.

“Hi. What can I help you with?”

I didn’t even know if Claire would be in this part of the hospital. Maybe she’d be in surgery? Maybe she was recovering some place else? I had no idea.

Before I could open my mouth to explain my situation, a door down the hallway clicked open and I spied a familiar figure slipping out of the room. Julia silently shut the door out of which she’d just come.

I walked to her instead of the nurse’s station. “Hey,” I greeted. I leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “What are you doing here?”

She folded her arms in front of her chest. “The same as you, I suspect. Terrance called me.”

I hadn’t realized they’d exchanged contact information, but it made sense considering he and Claire were squatting in her apartment.

“Are they in there?” I asked. My gaze flickered from her face to the closed door from which she’d come. “Is everything okay?”

“The baby came early, but both he and Claire are doing well. Why don’t you check in with the nurse and go see for yourself?”

“Are you coming, too?”

She held up her cell phone. “I’ll be right back. I have to make some phone calls.”

Julia left down the hallway, and I knocked quietly on the door to Claire’s hospital room. I heard her voice through the door: “Come in.”

I gingerly opened the door and poked my head in. The lighting in the room was soft and muted. The walls and furniture were similarly serene, painted in dull pastels and earth tones. A baseball game played on the flat screen television hung on one wall, but the sound had been turned off. Claire sat up in a hospital bed. Pensacola was in his wheelchair, perched by her side. Twin smiles greeted me as I entered the room.

“I heard someone had a baby,” I said, closing the door behind me.

“You heard right.” Claire looked tired. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail away from her face. The colors of the room had washed out her complexion.

“Everything’s okay though?”

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” Pensacola said.

At the end of Claire’s bed was a strange-looking container. It didn’t look like any crib I’d ever seen, but sleeping inside of the open plastic cube was a sleeping infant.

“Oh my gosh.” My voice lowered reverently.

“Do you want to hold him?” Pensacola asked me.

“Oh, I-I don’t …I’ve never…” I stammered. I’d actually never held a baby before in my entire life.

“You won’t break him,” Claire assured me.

“Just don’t drop the kid,” Pensacola teased. My friend maneuvered his chair so he could reach the slumbering baby.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I mumbled.

Pensacola eased the bundled baby out of his crib and gingerly handed him to me.

“Cradle his head,” Claire instructed from her bed.

“It’s a baby, Miller,” Pensacola teased, “not a live grenade.”

“Shut up, dude.”

I stared down at the still-sleeping newborn. Swaddled in a soft blanket, only the baby’s face was visible. Tiny eyes were closed tight with sleep, and a black wisp of hair poked out from beneath the small blue cotton cap on his head.

“He’s so tiny,” I marveled. My arms felt stiff as I held him; I didn’t know how to move them without jostling the newborn.

“Tell that to my lady parts,” Claire huffed. “It felt like I was giving birth to a bowling ball.”

“Jesus,” I winced.

“Don’t worry, little man,” Pensacola cooed. “We’ll fatten you up with some of my mama’s cooking since we know your actual mama can’t boil water.”

“Terrance William Pensacola,” Claire growled his name. “You’re lucky the doctor told me not to leave this bed.”

“Oh, that’s what I’m banking on, baby. Don’t you worry,” he winked.

“Looks like everything is right with the world in here,” I remarked.

Claire caught my eye and gave me a small, wistful smile. It made me wonder if Pense had told her I’d tried to talk to him the other night over beers at Spencer’s. I hoped he had, and I hoped they’d finally been able to communicate with each other.

“He’s gorgeous, you guys,” I declared. “Did you decide on a name yet?”

Pensacola cleared his throat and looked over at his wife. “Oh, uh …”

Claire had on the kind of smile that made you forget all that was ugly about the world. “Cassidy,” she said, “I’d like to introduce you to Miller Terrance Pensacola.”

My mouth fell open.
Miller?

There was a light knock at the door before I could string together a sentence. Julia’s smiling face appeared in the doorway. “How’s everyone doing in here?”

“We’re all good, but I think your woman’s about to have a brain hemorrhage,” Pensacola snickered.

Julia flicked her eyes in my direction before returning her attention to Claire and Pense. “I just got off the phone with my property manager. They’re delivering a crib and a host of other new baby supplies to my apartment later today so you won’t have to worry about anything when you get discharged.”

Claire gasped. “Julia! I-I can’t believe it. How did you—. How are you—”

“I think you broke my wife,” Pensacola laughed.

A second person stuck their head inside the room. It was the woman from the nurse’s station. “Hey, Mama,” she directed Claire’s way. “You feel up to giving a try at feeding that baby boy of yours?”

“That’s my cue to leave,” I announced.

“I didn’t think you of all people would get a little shy about boobs, Cass,” Pensacola teased.

“They’re your wife’s boobs,” I pointed out.

“You’re right,” he remarked. “Get out.”

 

 

Julia and I left Pense, Claire, and baby Miller in their hospital room with a promise that we’d visit the next day. Claire would have to stay at least one more day before the new family would be free to go. I couldn’t believe how calm they were. I couldn’t imagine being a new parent, let alone having given birth in a strange hospital in a strange state with no supplies.

Julia slipped her arm through mine and rested her head on my shoulder as we walked to the elevator. Her high heels clacked against the hospital floor.

“You’re all kinds of amazing,” I complimented her. “Even with all of this chaos, and you still had the presence and clarity of mind to think about details like a baby crib.”

“My Type-A personality comes in handy every now and again,” she stated.

We were silent as we waited for the elevator to reach our floor. I swallowed down the lump in my throat. “They named the baby Miller.”

“It was probably a better choice than naming him Cassidy,” she remarked. “Does it make you feel strange?”

“A little,” I nodded.

“Why?”

“I dunno. I just don’t know why they’d do it.”

“You saved Terrance’s life, dear,” she unnecessarily reminded me. “That little miracle in there wouldn’t exist without you.”

I made a noncommittal noise and bit my trembling lower lip.

“You looked like a natural in there,” she noted, “holding that baby.”

“Don’t lie,” I scoffed. “I was scared shitless.”

“Language, dear.” She patted my arm affectionately. “How was work? How was Mendez?” she routinely asked.

“Mendez was good.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Really?”

“Yeah. He even made a joke today. I think he might be human after all.”

“And work?”

“It was actually pretty uneventful, which is a good day in my opinion. The highlight was probably a call about a break-in that turned out to be nothing more than an old woman who’d forgotten to shut the door behind her when she went out for groceries.”

Julia frowned. “Dementia?”

“I don’t think so. Just forgetful.”

Julia made a noise and looked down at the elevator’s floor.

“You’re thinking about your mom, huh?”

“I can’t help thinking that I’ve made things worse for her.”

“You tried though. You did your best,” I encouraged her. “You had her wellbeing in mind.”

“I wanted him to lose though—my father. If I hadn’t been so focused on punishing him, maybe I could have argued a stronger case and the judge would have made a different decision.”

“You can’t torture yourself with what-ifs. I should know; I’m an expert in it. Without a time machine, there’s no way we can predict alternative outcomes.”

She audibly sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Say that again?” I leaned toward her and lifted a hand to my ear. “I don’t think I heard you quite right.”

“I said—.” She cut herself off and clamped her mouth shut when she realized what I was doing. “Very funny.”

“So I’ll see you back at the apartment?” I posed. “I’ve got my motorcycle parked in the ramp.”

“Why did you buy yourself such an impractical vehicle?”

“I enlisted in the Marines right after my high school graduation,” I reminded her. “When I got out, I wasn’t ready to commit to a car.”

“You aren’t thinking of still riding that contraption in winter, are you?”

“I took the bus last year when it snowed,” I shrugged.

“I don’t want to overstep my boundaries, dear, but maybe it’s time to think about buying a vehicle with four wheels.”

“You mean like an ATV?” I joked.

She pressed her lips together, unamused. “Don’t make me nag you, Miss Miller. I’m too young to be your mother.”

A thought occurred to me at her words. “Hey, how old
are
you?”

I heard her voice as she stepped out of the elevator. “Well, I’m most certainly not telling you
that
.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

 

 

Mendez and I were driving back to the precinct at the end of our shift when a call about a disturbance at a nightclub near the university came through on the radio. Mendez turned down the volume as if to ignore the request for a car on the scene. It reminded me of a little kid who closes his eyes and believes he’s invisible. I reached for the volume dial and turned it back up.

“That place is just around the corner,” I noted.

“It’s not our beat,” Mendez said. “Let someone else get it.”

BOOK: Damaged Goods (Don't Call Me Hero Book 2)
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