Chace’s body was shaking, his mouth was grinning and his voice held a deep tremor of humor when he remarked, “That’s quite a description.”
“I read so I have a vivid imagination,” I explained.
“No,” he replied quietly, his voice holding a different kind of tremor that sent a thrill gliding over my skin. “You’re Faye so you’re cute.”
“There’s also that,” I said, going for breezily but it came out wheezily.
His hand shot out, hooked me behind my neck and I found my body moving toward his as my eyes stayed glued to his until they were forced to close when his head descended and his mouth touched mine.
As fast as it happened, his hand clenched into my neck, guiding me back to settle on my stool and he let me go.
But the beautiful tingle of his lips brushing mine remained.
He took a bite, chewed and swallowed. I sawed off a bite, put it in my mouth, chewed, swallowed then went after my wineglass.
“So Jude’s good?” Chace took us back.
I nodded, returned my glass to the counter, grabbed my pizza crust, gnawed off a bite and looked to him to see he was reaching for another slice.
I swallowed and kept sharing.
“He took to the Army. Called Dad, they had a man to man heart to heart and Jude explained stuff to him. Apparently, Jude needed discipline. He really likes it. He wants to be career Army. Non-com officer. And we’re not talking Corporal but a Sergeant Major. He’s really into it. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Dad did a stint in the Marines, was really proud of it and talked about it all the time while we were growing up. Jude was big into sports so he knew how to be on a team, follow the lead from a coach but still be a leader within the team. I guess his last rebellion was joining the Army, not the Marines but Dad isn’t complaining.”
I took another bite of crust as Chace asked quietly, “You worry about him?”
I shook my head while chewing and swallowing and answered, “Funny, less now than I did before. Before, he didn’t have a squad of brothers at his back. Now he does. That doesn’t mean I don’t worry but I’m happy Jude found something he’s into, a place he fits, a place he belongs. So I focus on that.”
“Smart,” Chace muttered and I gave him a small grin and went back to my crust.
Chace fell silent and I did too. This had the unfortunate effect of making my mind wander. Where it wandered to was that he stated plainly he hated his Dad and he also immediately jumped all over helping the boy. I worried there was a correlation there and I worried through half my second slice.
“Gone quiet,” Chace murmured and I pulled in breath, put my cutlery down, grabbed my wineglass and looked at him.
Before taking a sip, I asked, “The cameras, Chace, a good idea but does CPD usually expend those kinds of resources for an unknown kid they don’t know what’s happening to him?”
“Feed tapes will go to the interns because they need shit to do. Cameras are not CPD’s. They’re a buddy of mine’s. So it isn’t CPD resources being used since they aren’t paying the interns.”
“You seem to be going all out for a boy you don’t know,” I noted quietly and cautiously as I set my glass aside and his eyes came to me.
Then his body turned to me.
“So are you,” he noted back quietly.
“Dad says, a wrong is just wrong no matter who’s doing it or who it’s done to. If you know someone’s doing wrong, you do what you can to right it. If you don’t, you’re no kind of person he’d want to know. And I want to be the kind of person my Dad wants to know.”
“Right,” he replied but said no more.
“So that’s why I’m doing it. Why are you?”
His brows went up slightly and he answered, “Faye, honey, I’m a cop.”
“But you’re going all out,” I reminded him. “Are things, um… slow at the Station or something?”
He grinned, leaned slightly toward me and said, “No. I’ll admit, I’m not goin’ all out for this kid just because I’m a cop. I’m doin’ it because it means somethin’ to the town’s pretty librarian.”
I held my breath as my heart fluttered and Ella Mae started singing in my ear.
“Now,” he continued, “what I’d like to know is what you were really asking.”
Laurie said care, honesty, generosity and forgiveness.
I didn’t know if what I was going to ask fit into any of those except “honesty” but I hoped it also fit into “care”.
“You hate your Dad,” I said gently.
He shook his head, leaned closer and put a hand to my leg, sliding it up so his pinkie pressed against the bend in my hip and I tried to focus on his words and not his warm hand on me or where it was when he spoke.
“My Dad’s a dick. Lookin’ back at my life, he was hard on me, too hard, hard in a way I’d never be to a kid but I was not mentally abused. He’s got a way he sees life and men and how they conduct themselves and we do not see eye to eye on that. That’s okay when you’re a kid. But when your son starts becomin’ a man and he doesn’t do one f**kin’ thing to lose your respect, you should give it to him including respecting the points of view he’s developing and the ways he’s beginning to look at the world. My Dad didn’t do that. He wanted me to be who he wanted me to be and refused to accept anything else. I guess I’m like him in that way because I refused to be anything else but the man I wanted to be. This meant we clashed. I skipped a grade and left for college when I was seventeen. Never went home again for more than a week or two, even for summers, found jobs that would take me away. This was because he never quit pushin’ it. I never quit pushin’ back.”
“That doesn’t sound fun,” I whispered because it really didn’t and I didn’t like it that he grew up like that.
“It wasn’t,” he agreed.
“I’m sorry.” I kept whispering.
“I am too,” he replied then carried on. “Got worse as I got older because he never got over it. He hated me bein’ a cop. Still does. Came to visit in order to tell me just that. Not regular but more than once and once was one time too many. Life happens, shit happens and it came to my attention more of the man he is and it’s not good. He cheats on my Mom. He does it repeatedly. He’s done it since the beginning. I’m not down with that.”