On Second Thought(35)

"Um...wow, yeah, that's great."

"It is great, Ewan," Daniel said. "It's so great. Lizzie is probably the  most loved and protected girl in all of New York, don't you agree?"

"Yes."

"Is there something you'd like to say to my precious, angelic, perfect baby sister, Ewan?"

"Sorry?"

"Now, Ewan. You can do better than that."

I had to admit, this was really fun.

Ewan looked at Lizzie and swallowed. "I'm sorry if I scared you. I'd  never do anything, not really. I was just..." He looked down. "Sad."

"And in the future, you'll just let yourself be sad, Ewan. Feel the feelings and leave my sister alone. Got it, son?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, sir."

"If anything happens to her," Daniel said, "if a dog bites her, if a  bridge falls on her head, if she's attacked by a shark, I'm holding you  responsible." He looked at his little sister. "We good here?"

She nodded, smiling.

"Okay, you can go, Ewan," Daniel said, and the kid scrambled back inside the door.

Daniel and Lizzie came down the steps. "So much testosterone," I said to  Lizzie, getting a smile from Daniel. "Where does he keep it all?"

"In barrels behind the garage," she said. "Can we still do the drama shots?"

"My place is way on the other side of the park," Daniel said, hefting her suitcase.

"So?" she said. "I thought you were Superman. Just fly us there."

"You know what? I'll call my tenants and see if they're in," I said. "My  old place is three blocks from here. Maybe we can use it if they don't  mind."

I texted my tenants, both doctors, who were at work. I'd given them a  nice price on the rent, since they were both residents in pediatric  oncology, and they always included a nice note with their rent payment  about how much they loved the place. Take as long as you need, the  husband texted.

So Daniel, Lizzie and I headed over to 4th Street. I glanced at him as  we passed the house he used to live in with Calista, but he didn't look  at it. If Lizzie was aware that he used to live there-she would've been a  little kid back when he was married-she didn't say anything.

Funny, how simultaneously familiar and odd it felt to be back in my old  building. The walnut railing felt as smooth and cool as ever, but I  hadn't set foot in here since December. As we reached the third floor,  it smelled different-a hint of curry and cardamom, and just the smell of  someone else's house. I opened the door.

Home, yet not.

Different furniture, bright tapestry wall-hangings, a row of potted  herbs on the kitchen windowsill. In place of my pink-and-green couch,  there was a futon, and the TV sat on the floor amid a nest of wires and  an Xbox. Still, the view across the street, through the branches of the  locust tree, grabbed my heart and squeezed.

I missed it here.

"Okay," I said, clearing my throat, "why don't you change, Lizzie? The bathroom's down the hall."

* * *

An hour later, we had some great photos of the chameleonlike Lizzie,  who'd opted for some very well-done Kabuki-style makeup; white skin,  white lashes, black eye shadow and red, red lips. Daniel sighed wearily,  muttered something about how she was playing with dolls not that long  ago and stared out the window.

"Thank you so much for doing this," she said when she was back in her street clothes. "Here's your check. Totally worth it."

Daniel reached over, ripped up the check and said, "I got this."

"Really? Daniel! Just when I thought I hated you, I totally love you." She punched him in the stomach. Fondly.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm putting you in a cab."

"Mom thinks you're coming for dinner."

"I'm not. I'm taking her out." He jerked his head at me.

"You are?" I asked.         

     



 

"Yeah. You free?"

"That was beautiful, Daniel," Lizzie said. "You've got game, big bro."

"Shut up. Her husband just died."

"Oh, my God! I'm so sorry!" Lizzie said, covering her mouth with her hand.

I shrugged, a little sad that the specter of my widowhood had been brought in. "Thanks."

Daniel looked at me. "Can I buy you dinner? Since you put up with me and  my sister all day long? If you don't have plans, that is."

I hesitated. It sounded a little...date-ish. Then again, it was just  Daniel the Hot Firefighter, and I'd aged out of False Alarm status  fifteen years ago. "That would be nice," I said.

He smiled, and a lovely warmth filled my chest.

I wasn't sure that was allowed for a grieving widow, but it sure felt good.

We put Lizzie and her suitcase in a cab, and I assured her I'd get her  the photos as soon as possible. I waved as she drove off. "Great girl," I  said.

"Ah, she's not horrible, anyway."

"Didn't you use the words perfect and angelic?"

He laughed. "Maybe. You think she can be a model?"

"I don't know. I mean, in my opinion, sure. She has a lot of looks, understands angles, and she's definitely beautiful."

"She's watched that dumb modeling show since the beginning of time."

"I also watch that show. That's quality television."

He looked down at me and grinned. "Wanna go to Porto's? I'm starving."

The old hangout where Paige and I had spent so many evenings. "Sure."

A soft spring night, walking through my old neighborhood with Daniel the  Hot Firefighter, who was not just hot but insisted on carrying my  stuff, really good Italian food ahead...it was a field trip from my  life. I could feel the sadness waiting for me once I crossed the Harlem  River and headed back to Cambry-on-Hudson, but for now...for now, I was  okay.

Porto's was exactly the same, thank God. It was still pretty early,  before six, so we got a table. "Good to see you," Al said, the eponymous  owner. "You want wine?"

"Um...sure."

"I'll get the wine list." He squeezed my shoulder-maybe someone had told him about Nathan-and walked away.

This would be my first alcohol since Nathan had died. Four weeks. Now  that it was really, really proven that I wasn't pregnant, I could have a  glass of wine.

Strange, to miss something that never was. To miss even the remotest  possibility that I was pregnant with my dead husband's baby.

"So how you doing?" Daniel asked.

"Okay," I said, snapping out of my fog. "I mean... I don't really know.  Today was a good day. Other days are...not good. How's that for  eloquent?"

He nodded, looking right at me. That was something that was uncommon lately; people couldn't bear to look me in the eye.

Over the years when I'd run into Daniel, he'd be flirting, smiling,  flexing and generally looking hot in a way that I appreciated but didn't  really feel. His green eyes slanted down a little, and he had a killer  smile (and knew it). His hair was cut very short, almost a crew cut,  possibly because of work. Like all the other man-children in Brooklyn,  he didn't shave daily. He was tall and had those ridiculously beautiful,  strong arms; I'd once seen him flex his biceps for a False Alarm and  actually tear his T-shirt. So yeah. I knew all that.

But today, he'd acted like any good big brother would, and now...well, he looked very... He looked kind.

"It's nice to be back here," I said, my voice a little husky.

"Good. How much do I owe you, by the way?"

"A hundred bucks."

"I'm guessing you charge more than that."

"Not today."

"How about three hundred? Would that cover it?"

"Daniel, you did me a favor. Plus, I plan to eat a lot tonight. A hundred is all I'll take."

He smiled. "Then make sure you order a bottle of expensive wine."

We ordered, and I picked out a not-too-expensive bottle of wine. "How are things at the Re-Enter Center?" I asked.

"Not bad. I got a good group this year."

"Carpentry, right?"

"That's right."

I had a sudden idea. "Hey, do you ever make furniture?"

"Sure."

"Do you think you could make a porch swing?" It would be the perfect  present for my in-laws on their fiftieth. A beautiful, one-of-a-kind  swing where they could sit and remember their dead son.

I swallowed. The spike was back.

"Sure, I could," Daniel said. "I made one for my sister a couple years ago. Is it for you?"         

     



 

"My in-laws."

"Got it. Sure, I'll send you some pictures and you can see what you  like." His phone chimed, and he glanced at it. "It's my lieutenant. I  have to call in, but I'll be right back, okay?"

"Is it really work? Or is it a False Alarm?"

He looked confused. Right. He didn't know our name for his bimbos. "I'll just be a second."

"Yes. Go protect and serve."

"God, Kate," he said, tousling my hair. "Get it right. The cops protect and serve. We're New York's Bravest."

"Go. Be brave. Make that call." I smiled at him.