VCTF HQ –“Is it all worked out?” Sam asked.
“Bailey had to pull a few strings for us,” John admitted as he sat down at the briefing table. “Who knew that trying to enroll out-of-district was such a big deal?” He shook his head at the memory of the hassles. And he’d thought that federal paperwork was a nightmare. “But yeah, it’s all set up. Jamie and Megan are enrolled at Chloe’s school. They start Monday.”
“Monday?” Sam echoed. “Where are they now?”
John shrugged distractedly as he rifled through his stack of folders. “Rearranging stuff on my desk, stealing paperclips, and crashing my computer probably.” He looked up and grinned at Sam’s disapproving expression. “I had to bring them. We’re only here for a few minutes anyway,” he said. “Bailey wanted my field notes from the Harrisburg case. I was just gonna drop them off and then we’re out of here and off to buy school supplies. We have to start from scratch,” he added more seriously.
Besides the usual notebooks and pencils, he was afraid that they were probably going to have to buy a few more school clothes too. The suitcases they’d managed to bring with them hadn’t held that much after all. He was definitely going to have to go grocery shopping too. Somehow he doubted that his new houseguests would be satisfied with his current selection of crackers and ketchup. He had a feeling that raising kids was going to turn out to be a lot more expensive than he’d ever really considered.
“Found ‘em,” he said triumphantly as he pulled a blue file from his permanently jumbled pile of papers.
Sam merely smiled, knowing it was useless to even suggest that he try practicing the strange and mysterious art of organization. “Dinner tonight at the firehouse?” she asked instead. “They might as well get used to being there.”
“We’ll be there at six-thirty,” John said as he rose. “Gotta run before Bailey starts pitching fits about the security violations. Can’t have small children playing with sensitive government equipment, now can we? Don’t say it, George,” he warned as the computer expert approached them.
“What?” George asked innocently. “Don’t comment about the obvious parallels with certain VCTF employees? Those kids couldn’t possibly do any more damage to your desk or computer than you’ve already done. And if they lose any of your paperwork, well then, it’ll just confirm that you’re related.”
“I really have to go now.” John sprinted up the stairs as George laughed good-naturedly.
As he crossed the office he could see the two children hunched over something on his desk. Jamie was feverishly trying to put whatever it was back together. When John reached them Megan darted behind her brother and Jamie glared up at him defiantly.
“It’s not her fault,” the boy said. He moved carefully as John walked around the desk, making sure to keep himself in front of Megan.
“What isn’t?” John asked mildly. Part of him was impressed at how willing Jamie was to protect his sister. The rest of him cringed at the thought that Jamie believed he needed to do so. He watched as the boy slowly dropped several shards of plastic onto the desk. The computer mouse, or what was left of it, was in three pieces. John poked at it speculatively, curious to know just how they’d dropped it to make it shatter like that, then he shrugged. “Maybe now they’ll give me one of those new ergonomic ones. Ready to go?” The two children gaped at him.
“You’re not… You’re not mad?” Jamie asked, clearly suspicious.
John shrugged again. “Accidents happen. If I hadn’t brought you in here and then left you alone for so long then this probably wouldn’t have happened. No use telling you to be careful now. Let’s go.”
He herded them toward the elevators fully aware that they were both still staring at him as if he was some kind of alien lifeform. He knew exactly what they’d been expecting. After all, he’d been raised by an O’Doyle too.
* * * the firehouse, later -
Megan followed her brother and Uncle John onto the fire station’s elevator. She’d spent all day following the two of them around and she was tired. Uncle John wasn’t so bad really, she decided. After all, he hadn’t yelled at them when she’d broken his mouse. It wouldn’t have broken anyway if Jamie hadn’t tried to take it away from her… but the point was that he hadn’t yelled at them or anything. He’d just taken them to lunch at MacDonald’s, then they’d gone to the mall. They’d gotten lost a couple of times because Uncle John didn’t know where any of the kids’ departments were, but once they’d found the right stores he bought both of them a lot of new clothes. She and Jamie had gotten new backpacks for school too. It was kind of fun to get all that new stuff, but it also meant that they probably wouldn’t be going home any time soon. She liked her new Pooh backpack, but what she really wanted was her old Pooh backpack. And her old clothes and her old room and her old house. And her dad.
Jamie kept telling her that it wasn’t going to happen. He’d been telling her that for a long time – almost a month maybe. And he said it was going to be a lot longer before their dad came home. First they’d had to stay with Grandpa and now with Uncle John. If it wasn’t possible to go home yet, then Megan didn’t really care where they were. As long as nobody took her away from Jamie, she amended. And as long as they didn’t have to stay with Uncle Brandon. As the elevator rose Jamie turned to frown up at Uncle John.
“So is Sam like your girlfriend or something?” he asked.
“Or something,” Uncle John agreed with a smile. For the first time all day, he actually looked like he was going somewhere that he wanted to be. Megan didn’t blame him at all. She thought that the fire station was pretty cool. Chloe had a lot of neat stuff too. Maybe they could play with her dollhouse this time. When the elevator stopped and the doors opened Chloe was waiting. Megan watched her hug Uncle John and it kind of made her wish for her dad again. But Jamie said they weren’t going home.
* * * “Pizza?” John said in mock astonishment as he walked into the kitchen. He turned to Chloe and gave her a wink. “So we’ve finally managed to teach her how to fix a proper Friday night supper.”
“Finally,” Chloe grinned back at him. “Now we need to work on *your* ‘dead fish on the pizza’ problem.”
“There is absolutely nothing wrong with anchovies,” he protested. “Back me up, Jamie. Anchovies belong on a pizza.”
Jamie merely shrugged indifferently, but Megan wrinkled her nose. “They’re gross,” she said. “Too salty.” John blinked at her in surprise.
“There,” Chloe said firmly. “You’re outvoted. Anchovies are disgusting.”
John buried his face in his hands and pretended to moan in defeat. The two girls, having found a new solidarity, giggled at him while Jamie simply rolled his eyes and dropped heavily into one of the kitchen chairs. Sam smiled to see them bantering. She’d been a bit worried yesterday that Chloe might resent John’s new charges, but things actually seemed to be going better than she’d expected.
“Chlo,” she said. “Why don’t you get everybody drinks?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Chloe replied. “You want a coke?” she asked Megan first.
“Sure.”
“What kind?”
Megan looked at her in puzzlement. “What kind of what?” She turned to frown at John’s quiet laughter.
“You’re in Georgia now,” he explained, still chuckling. “All soda is coke. What kind of soda do you want?”
“Oh. Coke, I guess,” the little girl shrugged and John laughed again.
When all the orders were taken and the glasses placed on the table they all sat down. Sam noted that despite Chloe’s apparent acceptance of Megan and Jamie’s presence, she’d still made certain to put her own chair as close to John’s as possible. Soon the two of them were engaged in one of their typical elbow battles; a subtle art of warfare which involved jabbing your opponent in the ribs while concentrating intently on something else entirely. It generally ended with one or the other of them knocking something off the table. Sam gave them a stern glare. For all the good it did. It seemed like some things were never going to change.
* * * Chloe dug into her pizza happily. Maybe she wouldn’t be losing John to these new kids after all. He’d seemed just like regular ever since he’d gotten here tonight. He teased her just like usual. They ganged up on Mom just like usual. They were even cutting up and getting glared at like usual. If she could just keep figuring out ways to remind him that she was the one who was supposed to be important to him then maybe this would be okay. Like tomorrow. Tomorrow?
“What are we going to do about tomorrow?” she asked, suddenly worried.
“Tomorrow?” John repeated. Then his eyes widened as he remembered. “The game. We have tickets to the game.”
“Three tickets,” Chloe said glumly. She shouldn’t have brought it up; it just slipped out. He’d probably have to take his niece and nephew. It wasn’t fair. Those were supposed to be her and Mom’s tickets. They were supposed to go to the Braves’ game with John. Her fears only worsened when her mom spoke up.
“I don’t really need to go,” her mom said. “Baseball has never really been my thing.”
“*Sports* has never been your thing,” John teased, but he looked a little worried too.
“Chloe…” her mom began.
“No! I want to go!” she burst out. It wasn’t fair. She knew it had been going too well. “I want to go! You promised!” John and her mom exchanged more worried looks.
“Chloe,” her mom said again. “Maybe Jamie and Megan would like to go this time. We’ve already been twice this summer.”
“No!” She knew she sounded like a baby, but it wasn’t right. “This is a playoff game. I’ve never been to a playoff game. It was supposed to be just us. You promised!”
“Chloe,” John said. He tried to put his arm around her, but she pushed him away. “Maybe… maybe I can find another ticket… or something…”
“No, you won’t.” She folded her arms and refused to look at him. “They said on the news that it’s sold out. Even if you could find another ticket, it wouldn’t be together anyway. I want to go…”
“I don’t,” a small voice said. Megan picked at her pepperoni and didn’t look up as they all stared at her. “I don’t like baseball either.”
Chloe turned to John hopefully. He was looking at her mom like he was trying to ask her something without saying it out loud. Her mom was pretty good at understanding things like that, especially from John, so maybe… She crossed her fingers under the table.
“Megan,” her mom said finally. “Would you like to stay here with me tomorrow afternoon while they go to the game?”
Megan looked at her brother out of the corner of her eye then nodded slowly. Chloe breathed a sigh of relief. She was going to get to go! Of course Jamie was coming too, but that wasn’t the important part at all. Just because he was really related to John didn’t mean that she was going to let him take John away from her.
* * * John’s apartment –
It hadn’t been a totally disastrous day after all, John decided as they entered his apartment building that evening. He’d actually managed to get quite a bit done. So, the kids hadn’t entirely warmed up to him yet, but at least they weren’t terrified of him. Surely that was an improvement. Megan was asleep on his shoulder, wiped out from being dragged all over Atlanta all day. Jamie stumbled along beside him, just as tired as his sister but too stubborn to fall asleep in the car. John had to smile at that. Stubbornness was apparently as endemic to O’Doyles as blue eyes and black hair. If he was going to be honest about it, he saw a lot of himself in Jamie. Stubborn, tough, independent, extraordinarily protective of those he cared about. But if John had anything to say about it, Jamie wouldn’t have to be as wary or hardened… or alone as he’d been. Not any more.
John paused in the middle of the hallway. There was something wrong. Whether Jamie sensed it too or merely picked up on John’s sudden tension, the boy unconsciously moved a step closer to him. John instinctively twisted sideways for what small bit of protection it afforded the child on his shoulder even as he pushed Jamie behind him. He mentally berated himself for forgetting about his father’s cryptic warning last night. He scowled darkly at the man who stepped suddenly around the corner.
“You John Grant?”
“Who’s asking?”
“Ben Frey from Miller and Alcott,” the man said. He took another step toward John and held out an envelope. John took it warily. “You’ve been served, Mr. Grant. Have a nice evening.” John stared after him blankly as he walked down the hallway and left. Jamie turned to stare after him too.
“That was bizarre.”
“Tell me about it,” John agreed. Although the subpoena server was probably the only thing that had set him on edge, he still entered the apartment cautiously. After a quick scan to assure himself that there was nothing out of place and nothing else to be concerned about he lay Megan down on the sofa.
“What is it?” Jamie asked. He stood at John’s elbow, trying to get a glimpse of the envelope’s contents.
John moved to the kitchen and flattened the papers on the bar. After a few moments of reading he looked up at Jamie. “Who the hell is Katherine Kelley?”
The boy shrugged and picked up one of the pages. “What does this mean?”
“It’s for a custody hearing,” John said. He didn’t bother trying to hide the bafflement in his voice. “Somebody named Katherine Kelley want to take you and Meg. Who the hell is Katherine Kelley?” he wondered again. He looked back at the papers still on the countertop. “Know anybody in Easton, Illinois? That’s where it says she’s from.” Something nagged at him, but Jamie just shrugged unhelpfully again. “Kelley,” John repeated. “Kelley… Wait a sec.”
Jamie followed him back into the living room and watched him dig through desk drawers for a few minutes. Finally John found the folder he was looking for and began flipping through it quickly. An old newspaper clipping fluttered out and Jamie bent to pick it up.
“That’s it,” John said. “That’s what I was looking for.” He reached for the article but Jamie backed away, staring at the photo.
“That’s my mom,” he said quietly. “What is this?”
“It’s… it’s an obituary,” John told him. “I tried to keep track of things even if I wasn’t there,” he tried to explain. “I still wanted to know what was going on with… my family. Can I see it just for a minute? Then you can have it back… to keep if you want.” Jamie reluctantly handed it to him. “That’s it,” he said after a moment. “Katherine Kelley. Your mother’s sister. Your aunt.”
“Aunt Kathy?” Understanding slowly dawned in Jamie’s face. “We haven’t seen Aunt Kathy and Uncle Mark in a long time,” he said. “Since before… since before Mom died. I don’t remember them very well. I bet Meg doesn’t remember them at all.”
“Your dad probably wouldn’t let them see you,” John surmised.
“I dunno.” Jamie looked up at him with a worried, thoughtful expression. “Do you think they want us now because Dad’s in jail?”
“I don’t know.” He wore a worried, thoughtful expression of his own. He’d been expecting a challenge like this from either his father or Brandon, but Katherine was completely out of the blue. She had never been a factor in any of his plans. He didn’t even really know anything about her. He had a feeling though that this is what his father had been threatening yesterday. Patrick knew that neither he nor Brandon would win a custody case against him. If Patrick couldn’t have them, the old man undoubtedly reasoned, then he’d try to make sure that John wouldn’t either. John shook his head abruptly. “Go get ready for bed. Let me worry about this, okay? It’ll be alright.” The boy slowly complied.
Eventually John had tucked both children into bed and found himself wondering if he should look into getting a larger apartment. After turning the lights out he gravitated back to the kitchen and the papers on the counter. He read through them more carefully this time and realized that the hearing would be in Boston. With Katherine being from Illinois and John in Georgia, the courts had apparently decided that they would meet in the children’s home city. Damn, just what he wanted was to go back to Boston yet again this year.
Several hours later John was still poring over the papers. He hadn’t learned much else and hadn’t come up with any brilliant plans to ensure that Jamie and Megan wouldn’t be taken away from him either. He ground the heels of his hands against grainy eyes. He was still to tense to go to bed so he opened the refrigerator absently instead. It was practically empty. Not a big help. Probably ought to go grocery shopping, he reminded himself. He closed the door again and was startled to see Megan standing by the cabinets.
“Hey,” he said softly. “Couldn’t sleep?” She shook her head. “You want a glass of water? Milk? Hot chocolate?” At his last suggestion she brightened.
“With marshmallows?” she asked.
“I don’t think I have any.” He looked around futilely for a moment then picked up a box. “Unless you want to pick them out of this cereal.” He handed the carton to her then scooped her up and set her on the countertop. After another moment of searching he came up with a plastic bowl. “You can put them in there while I nuke the milk.” He was rewarded with a small smile. It was a major achievement.
“You’re a funny grown-up.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “I get that a lot. This mug okay?”
She nodded. “You look kind of like Uncle Brandon,” she said quietly.
“Kind of,” he agreed again. “I think he’s a little taller than me.”
Megan looked at him thoughtfully. “No, about the same. You sure don’t act like him though. He scares me sometimes,” she whispered. “You don’t.”
“Thank you,” he replied. It was one of the nicest things he could remember anyone ever saying to him. The little girl wrapped her arms around his neck as he picked her up off the counter. Maybe she really was starting to warm up to him. No, today hadn’t been a total disaster after all.
***** *****