Veggie Tales
Monday - VCTF HQ, Atlanta
“Grant,” John said automatically as he picked up his phone, tucking it between his shoulder and ear. He continued sorting through crime scene photos until he realized that the other end of the line was still silent. He set the pictures down and got a better grip on the phone. “Special Agent Grant,” he said again.
“Uncle John?” a small voice asked.
“Meg?” He couldn’t help the sudden surge of panic he felt at hearing his niece’s voice. “Megan? You okay?”
“Yes,” the little girl said slowly. “I just... wanted to tell you... I’m gonna be in a play. You don’t have to come or anything,” she added hastily. “I just wanted to tell you.”
John smiled, relieved and pleasantly surprised. “Thank you.”
“I’m a carrot,” she continued, warming a bit. “Jamie says I’m too short to be a carrot. He says I should be a bean.”
“I’m sure you’ll be a great carrot. So, when is this play?”
“You don’t have to come,” she said again. “But it’s on Thursday... at 7:30... at night... at school.”
He could hear the wistful note in her voice and knew that despite her words she was hoping against hope that he would come. It was the first time she had ever called him and he was thrilled. He knew instantly that he would do anything that he could to be there for her.
Now all he had to do was talk Bailey into giving him a few days off.
* * * * * Monday - the firehouse
“How long are you going to be gone?” Chloe asked, frowning at John across the kitchen table in the firehouse. John ate dinner with the Waters’ nearly every night that he wasn’t out of town on a case.
“Just a couple of days,” he replied. “Barely even that. I’m flying up on Thursday and back on Friday. Sam, you really need to explain to Bailey what the word ‘vacation’ means. Or ‘weekend’. You know he’s sending me and Marcus back to Miami on Saturday, right? I hate Miami in the winter. All those snowbirds in their giant RVs driving just as badly or worse than the geezers who live there year round.” He shook his head in weary exasperation just thinking about it.
Sam merely laughed softly. “You complain about every city we get sent to in December. If it’s in the south you complain about the snowbirds. If it’s in the north you complain about the snow. You, Mr. Grant, just like to complain.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one being sent to Miami this weekend.” He turned to Chloe for support, but she wasn’t there. He looked back at Sam worriedly. “She isn’t mad at me, is she? I thought we were through this.”
Sam shook her head. “I don’t think she’s upset. She’s missed having Megan around nearly as much as you have. And you didn’t hear it from me,” she added conspiratorially. ‘But I think she might actually be missing Jamie as well.”
“So where’d she go?”
“Here,” Chloe said as she emerged from the hallway. She approached John and stared at him solemnly for a moment. Then she handed him the camera that her mother had been teaching her to use. “Promise you’ll take lots of pictures,” she told him. “You have to take lots of pictures.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he grinned in relief. “So, anything you want me to bring you back from Chicago?”
* * * * *
* * * * * Thursday - Easton, Illinois
“I’ll get it!”
John smiled at the young voice echoing through the house. There was a rattling on the other side of the door as the child struggled with the lock. At last the door opened to reveal a wild-haired little girl.
“Uncle John! I knew you’d come!”
“Hey, Meg.”
“Aunt Kathy said you wouldn’t,” her voice rose accusingly as she pulled him into the house. “She said you’d be too busy.”
An auburn haired woman stood in the hallway and looked at John with barely hidden surprise. John knew that she still saw him as an O’Doyle. And she had no love for the O’Doyles.
“I told you he’d come,” Megan continued. She still hadn’t released his hand.
“Hi, Katherine,” he said.
“John,” she nodded warily in return. He could almost see the wheels turning in her mind.
“I can only stay for tonight and I’ve already got a room at a hotel in Chicago,” he said. A look of relief flickered across Katherine’s face at his preemptive assurances. Sam must be rubbing off on me, he thought in amusement. Nothing like dating a psychologist to sharpen your people-reading skills.
“Well, we’re in the middle of dinner. You’re welcome to join us. ” There was the slightest hint of embarrassment in her tone as if she realized how apparent her reluctance to offer him lodging had been.
“I didn’t want to impose on you,” he assured her again. “I ate before I got here. I would have just gone straight to the school, but I wanted to make sure I saw the kids before the play.” He looked down at Meg, still clinging to his hand possessively.
He was surprised and gratified to see how pleased she was that he’d come. This was almost as good a reception as he got from Chloe after he had been out of town for a week or two. True, it had been a couple of months since he’d last seen his niece, but another two months before that she hadn’t even known who he was. For a moment he allowed himself to wish that the custody hearing had gone differently, then he pushed it away as futile. What’s done is done, Johnny, he told himself. Wishing doesn’t change anything. He scooped Megan up in his arms and followed Katherine back to the dining room.
Katherine’s husband and their two daughters were seated around a large oval table. Jamie was nowhere in sight. There was, however, a conspicuously empty chair with a clean place setting before it.
“Did we lose somebody?” he asked Meg.
The little girl wrinkled her nose. “He’s in his room sulking. He got in another fight at school.”
“Megan,” Katherine said quickly. “Sit down and finish your dinner, please. We have to leave in forty minutes.”
“Mind if I go find Jamie?” John asked.
“He’s upstairs. Second door on the left,” Katherine told him.
* * * * * John tapped lightly at the door.
“Go ‘way. I’m not hungry.”
“That’s good, because I’m not room service.”
There was a flutter of activity within the room and suddenly the door was thrown open.
“Uncle John!” Jamie cried. “What’re you doing here?”
“Megan called.”
“For that stupid play she’s in? She doesn’t even have any lines.”
John shrugged. “That’s okay. Can I come in?”
The boy’s expression became suspicious. “You going to lecture me about fighting, too?”
“Nah. I think your Aunt Kathy and Uncle Mark pretty much have that part down.” He took in the dark bruise under Jamie’s left eye and grimaced in sympathy. He knew exactly how that felt. “I’m here for support,” he said. “You want to talk about it?”
Jamie sighed as he dropped back on to the bed and indicated that John could sit down beside him. “I’m sorry and I won’t do it again,” he recited dutifully.
John laughed. “You’re the new kid, kid,” he said as he ruffled the boy’s hair. “It’ll happen again. Trust me. I know.”
“It isn’t fair.”
“I know that, too. I also know you’re going to end up breaking your fingers if you keep making fists like that.” He nodded at the hands Jamie had balled in an unconsciously defensive gesture. “Here. Put them here,” he said as he reached out to uncurl Jamie’s fingers and reposition them. “They’ll have more give that way. Try it.”
Jamie gave him a disbelieving look, but threw a punch into John’s upraised hands anyway.
“Better?”
“Yeah.” Jamie nodded. “You sound kinda like my dad,” he added quietly. “He used to teach me stuff like that.”
Hell, John thought, I sound like my dad. Must be genetic. “Now, I’m not teaching you this just so you can beat the tar out of somebody next time they pick a fight with you,” he said. “I have a question.”
The suspicious look reappeared on the boy’s face.
“Have you ever thought about boxing?” John asked. “Not fighting. Boxing. If I talked to Kathy and Mark about letting you box, you think maybe you could try to stay out of trouble at school?”
“Boxing? Like in a ring, with gloves?”
He could see a hopeful light go on in Jamie’s eyes and smiled. “There’s a program I know of that starts with kids about your age and they do a lot of good. Taught me a lot of things... and not just about boxing, either. I think you might like it.”
“You think I could... You’d talk to them for me?”
John nodded. “If you want me to... So, you coming down to dinner or not?”
“You really came all this way just to see Meg play a vegetable?” Jamie asked as they headed out of his room.
“Yeah. I told you - if you ever need me, just call. I’ll do my damnedest to get here. I promise.”
Jamie stopped and looked up at him. “You really meant that, didn’t you?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” He put an arm lightly around Jamie’s shoulders, unsure how much affection the boy would allow him to show. “I promised. I meant it.”
“Why can’t we come live with you?” Jamie asked, surprising John as he leaned into the hug.
“We’ve been through this. I’d take you in a heartbeat if the court would let me. They won’t let me. I tried.”
“I know,” Jamie sighed. “But still, I wish...”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
* * * * * A little over an hour later and after a brief debate on whether Meg had meant her left from the stage or their left from the audience, John and Jamie had finally decided it would be safest to sit in the middle of the auditorium for the best view of the stubby carrot. The Kelleys, who had driven to the school separately, were already seated several rows in front of them.
“Probably figure Meg can’t tell her left from her right either,” Jamie said when he spotted them. John nodded absently as he tried to decipher the program.
“Every grade is doing something?” John asked. “This is some kind of school showcase?”
“Yeah. Something like that.”
“Last time I checked, this was your school too, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So? Why aren’t you in this?”
“Do I look like a trained seal?” Jamie snorted. “I don’t act. I don’t sing. I don’t perform.”
“I can respect that,” John nodded again.
“No lecture on not participating in school activities and making new friends?”
“I’ve gotten too many lectures in my day to ever want to give them. That’s what Kathy and Mark are for. I’ll just be the cool uncle,” he grinned. “Besides, I wasn’t much into this sort of thing when I was your age either.”
“You boxed instead.”
“Yeah. Hey, I think it’s starting.”
“Swell,” Jamie said dryly. “Singing kindergarteners. I can hardly wait.”
* * * * * “Did you see me?” Meg asked as she flew up the aisle after the program was over. “Did you, Uncle John? Did you see me?”
“I even took pictures,” he assured her. “You were a charming carrot.”
“I still can’t believe you came all the way up here just to watch her stand there in an orange jumper with stockings on her head for seven minutes.”
Meg stuck her tongue out at her brother then turned back to John. “Are you coming back for Christmas?” she asked hopefully.
John knelt down to her level and shook his head. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t think I’ll be able to make it. Aunt Kathy and Uncle Mark are taking you to your grandparents’ house for Christmas this year. You remember your mom’s parents, right?” Megan’s little face tightened into a pout as Jamie’s settled into its familiar scowl.
“No,” Meg sniffled. “I want you to come.”
“I just can’t this year,” John said though it killed him. “But maybe I can come for a few days over spring break. And we’ll definitely do something next summer. Maybe I can even talk them into letting you come down to Atlanta for a couple of weeks.”
The little girl stared at him doubtfully for a few moments then softened. “Really, we could come see you next summer? And Chloe?”
“And Chloe. She misses you too, you know.”
Megan beamed at that.
“Can we go get ice cream?” Jamie asked suddenly.
“Ice cream?” John repeated. “In the middle of December in Illinois?”
“It’s what we’d always do at home after something like this,” Jamie explained almost guiltily. “There was this diner. Dad would always get these greasy onion rings, but he always got me and Meg ice cream.”
John nodded slowly. “I think I know where you’re talking about. I’ll ask Kathy and Mark and see if we can’t find someplace like that here.”
* * * * * “Thanks, Uncle John,” Jamie said when they finally got back to the Kelley’s house.
“You’re welcome. They weren’t Boston onion rings, but they were alright.” He ruffled the boy’s hair as they made their way up the sidewalk. Megan was half-dozing on his shoulder.
Soon both children were reluctantly on their way to bed. Friday was still a school day. John lingered in the living room until both Kathy and Mark came back downstairs after tucking in Colm’s children and their own.
“There are a couple of things I want to talk to you about before I go,” John said.
“Thought there might be,” Katherine said as she and Mark sat down.
“First, I appreciate all you’re doing for them. I even appreciate how you’re trying to protect them,” he began, trying to sound as calm and reasonable as possible. “But if I ever can’t make it up to see them, let me make my own excuses. Don’t you ever tell them that I’m too busy for them.”
“We just didn’t want Meg to get her hopes up,” Mark said.
“I understand that. Really I do. But I promised both of them that if they ever called me, I’d come. I need them to trust that. I‘m never too busy for them.”
Katherine and Mark exchanged glances then nodded at John. “Just make sure you can keep that promise,” Katherine told him.
John nodded in return. “I’ll do my best. Second thing - Jamie’s fighting in school.”
The Kelleys slumped visibly at that. John suspected that they were quite at a loss over what to do about the boy’s constant scuffling. They were accustomed to their own two quiet girls and Jamie’s belligerent tendencies had them utterly stumped.
“We’ve already been talking to a counselor,” Katherine began. “She’s said he’ll probably settle down soon - once he starts feeling like this is home.”
“Take it from a guy who’s been where he is,” John said. “It’s not going to be that easy. It’s going to take a long time for anywhere that isn’t home to feel like home. It’s taken me fifteen years.” He gave them a wry grin. “I don’t think you’re going to want to wait that long. You want a little advice? Look into the Golden Gloves program for him. It would give him a good way to channel any frustrations he’s having with school… or with any of us.”
“That’s a boxing program, isn’t it?” Mark asked. “I’ve actually heard some pretty good things about it.”
“I don’t know,” Katherine said. “Jamie seems violent enough already.”
“Golden Gloves isn’t about violence,” John protested. “It’s about discipline. They don’t just teach kids how to box. They teach them self-control. It helped me when I was in his shoes. I was in pretty much the same situation when I was about his age, and it did me a lot of good. For what it’s worth, I really think you should let him give it a shot.”
“You’ve already talked to him about this, haven’t you?” Katherine guessed.
“Just a little. I told him I’d talk to you about it. I’d appreciate it if you at least considered it.”
The Kelleys exchanged another glance. John watched their wordless communication with a nagging feeling of familiarity. With a jolt it occurred to him that it was because he and Sam often did the same thing. It was an odd feeling to realize just how close they had become over the past couple of years. He wasn’t at all surprised that Sam could practically read his mind. She’d been able to do that almost from day one. He was a little startled to realize that he was beginning to be able to read hers. He knew her thought patterns, the arguments she would make, the logic she would use. Mark and Katherine seemed to share the same sort of bond. They both turned back to him.
“It’s an interesting idea,” Mark said. “At this point we’re willing to try almost anything. We’ll look into it.”
John smiled broadly. He knew that Jamie would be thrilled and he was nearly certain that the boy would enjoy the program as much as he had all those awkward years ago. At that moment the boy in question clattered down the stairs.
“Before you go, Uncle John,” Jamie said breathlessly. “Could you….” He stopped abruptly and seemed to be trying to compose himself into something cooler. “Could you give this to Chloe? To make up for that Manon Rheume card she gave me?”
“Ray Bourque?” John said, looking at the Boston Bruins’ defenseman card that Jamie handed him.
Jamie shrugged. “Maybe it’s a better good luck card than her girl-goalie.”
“Definitely a better player anyway,” John muttered to himself.
“What?”
“Nothing. Yeah, I’ll give it to her. She’ll love it.”
“G’night, Uncle John.” John was pleasantly startled when the boy gave him a quick hug. “Night, Uncle Mark. Aunt Kathy.” And with that he darted back up the stairs.
Katherine stared after him in bemusement. “They’ve been here longer than they were with you,” she said once Jamie was out of earshot. “And they both still seem more comfortable with you than they do with us.”
John shrugged. “I guess maybe we just have more in common. Same upbringing. Same history.” Same family issues and screwed up psyches, he thought but didn’t add aloud. “I’ll give you a call in a few weeks to talk about spring break,” he said instead. “Can we start thinking about letting them come to Atlanta for a little while this summer too?”
“We’ll talk about it,” Katherine conceded reluctantly.
* * * * *
* * * * * Friday - the firehouse
“Pizza’s here!” John called as he stepped off the elevator. “Half mushroom, half anchovies as ordered.
“Nobody here ordered anchovies,” Chloe said, hands on her hips with a mock-disapproving glare that she’d learned from her mother. “And remind me again if there are two of us and one of you, why do you get a whole half a pizza with nasty fish on it?”
“Because you’re tiny and your mom eats like a bird. Miss me?” he asked as he walked into the kitchen to set the carton on the cabinet.
“You were only gone one day,” the girl giggled. “But what did you bring me? You did bring me something, right?”
John laughed. “Amazingly enough, I did. It isn’t from me though.” He fished into his wallet to pull out the hockey card that Jamie had given him. “This is from Jamie. Said it was sort of a swap for your Manon card.”
“Cool!”
“He thought you might like it. Chlo, where is your mom? She left work before me and I saw her car downstairs.”
“Changing,” Chloe said absently, absorbed in the stats on the back of the card. “Said she didn’t want to get pizza sauce on her suit, I think.” She looked up at him then. “When are they gonna come back and visit us? Meg and Jamie?”
“Soon, I hope,” John said. “Soon.”
* * * * * * * * * *
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