Badge Bunny Page 9

  She rolls her eyes. “But those are all bad things. Being an author is a great thing. You should be proud of it.”

  I sigh. “I know, but I’m not like a ‘serious author.’” I actually make the goofy little air quotes around that phrase. “If I was churning out Stephen King horror novels or some kickass sci-fi, then oh hell yeah, I’d own up to that in a heartbeat. But drawing cute, fluffy bunnies and adorable sea turtles doesn’t really go with the whole tough cop thing, you know?”

  She giggles. Yeah, that was actually a giggle coming out of Dr. Brynne Miller’s mouth. I made her laugh. Now that I am proud of.

  “Drawing cute, fluffy bunnies and adorable sea turtles doesn’t make you any less of a tough cop,” she points out, as if it’s such an obvious conclusion, she can’t believe she’s actually saying it.

  “There’s gotta be something embarrassing you wouldn’t want your colleagues to know,” I tell her, narrowing my eyes as I study her face, trying to figure out what secrets might be concealed behind her eyes. “There’s gotta be, and I’m going to find out what it is, just so I can hold it over your head.”

  “Look, Chris,” she says, crisply enunciating my name, “I’m not going to tell anyone, okay? I could have rushed right home and called Sonnet, but I didn’t, alright? If you want to keep it a secret, then you just go right ahead.”

  The weight lifted off me lightens my load so much, it feels like I stripped out of my uniform, vest and gun belt with my last breath.

  “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to give you a hard time about it,” she warns me. “Especially since, you know, we’re going to be spending a lot of time together next weekend.”

  Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. Great. Just great. Considering the devious look she just flashed at me, I can only imagine what that “hard time” might entail.

  Nine

  “So this is it,” I remind her, “your last swim as Miss Jayne. Are you ready for this?” I look over at Sonnet, who is adjusting her swim cap on her head.

  She takes a deep breath, filling her lungs so full I can see her chest expand, then she blows it out. “I can’t believe how quickly the last nine months have gone! It’s crazy!”

  I nod. “I know. It seems like just yesterday you were showing off your new engagement ring!” I get my goggles ready. The captain has just laid the workout by our lane. Looks like we have a grueling forty-five minutes ahead of us. “I’m really happy for you. You guys deserve a beautiful day.”

  “I hope so,” she says, stretching her arms above her head. “I’m a little worried about that hurricane coming up the coast. All the models I’ve seen have it shooting out to sea once it gets to the Outer Banks in North Carolina, but you never know. I saw one model that brought it up the coastline, and landfall was in Ocean City. That’s a little too close for comfort!”

  “We’ve been really lucky since I’ve lived here,” I point out. “I haven’t had to deal with any really bad storms. Just that nor’easter last winter. And it wasn’t horrible. I just thought my roof was going to blow off. You know, no big deal.”

  “Yeah, it can get pretty damn windy here. I’m surprised there’s this big of a storm this early. Usually, the Atlantic hurricane season starts in June.”

  I nod and sigh. “I think we can blame Global Warming.”

  She takes off with hardly a splash before I can say another word. She’s stressed, and I can only imagine that’s not going to let up until she officially walks down the aisle in a few days. I know she’s meeting with her wedding planner Ken tomorrow morning, and I’m sure he will put her mind at ease. At least temporarily.

  I have had some pretty stressful times in my life, but obviously never had to deal with my own wedding. I don’t think Sonnet’s mom has helped her at all, and she was an only child, so no sisters to help, either. If I were to get married, I’m sure Ben and Jamie would help me with everything since my own mother is gallivanting around the country with god-knows-who. And my dad has his new family. I don’t know if he’d even come. I don’t think either of our parents has said a word about meeting Harmony. I’m not even 100% sure Ben has told them about her. That’s so sad, isn’t it?

  I survived medical school, but in some ways, our parents abandoning us is the worst thing I’ve lived through in my thirty-two years. It was like they were only staying together until I turned eighteen, and then they were out, leaving both their kids in the dust. I may have been in college and moved out of their home by the time it was final, but I still expected that home to be there for Christmas and summer vacations. They had it sold before Thanksgiving of my freshman year. That first Christmas break when I arrived in Buffalo and neither of my parents could be found, I stayed with my best friend from high school’s family.

  Sometimes I wonder, if I did get married, if my parents would even come to the wedding. I know Sonnet doesn’t get along that great with her parents either, which may be one of the reasons—among many—that we bonded. I am really hoping her mother—and especially her grandmother, whom I’ve heard all about already—doesn’t pick apart all of Sonnet’s choices for the wedding and upset my friend on her special day. I’d hate to knock a bitch out, ya know?

  I wonder what Drew’s parents are like? I have already met Lindy’s parents, the ones who frequent the ER, and they are as wonderful as can be. I know they have a lot of health issues, and they are so lucky Lindy is there to take care of them. I’m sure that’s a big reason why she and Meric haven’t taken the next step in their relationship. But I wonder if she realizes how lucky she is to have parents who really care about her and love her so dearly?

  I blink back the tears stinging at my eyes as I dip my body into the cool water and prepare to push off the wall. I never cry. I must be PMSing, I think as I lift my legs and press my feet against the side of the pool. I take a deep breath and propel myself through the water, hands and arms rotating through each stroke, my lungs adjusting to the lack of air.

  I’ve loved this weightless feeling for so long. It’s hard for me to remember when I learned to swim—I must have been tiny. I don’t remember not knowing, actually. During my childhood, it was the perfect escape from both my parents’ yelling and all the superficial judgments of my peers. Yes, I was smart. Yes, I wore glasses. Yes, I made straight A’s and had my nose buried in a book most of the time. But I also wore all black and listened to Metallica. It was hard for my peers to understand. Thankfully, I could sink myself into these silent, watery depths and not see anything but the vast expanse of tranquil blue stretching in front of me or hear anything but the sound of my lungs filling as I broke through the surface of the water to breathe.

  I swam the 500-yard freestyle on the high school swim team. That was the longest race, the endurance race. It was in those twenty lengths of the pool that I learned to stay in it for the long haul, to force my mind over the matter of burning lungs and tired limbs. And when I learned that even with my arms and legs heaving and pushing my weight through the water, my mind could languish in the peace of the cool, lapping stillness. The meditative properties were perfect for dealing with abandonment. And the endurance needed was excellent preparation for medical school.

  Today while I push my body through the water, one image keeps coming to my mind, and it’s the one of Trooper Asshat at the hospital a few days ago, begging me not to share his secret hobby with anyone. I’m still blown away that he is C.J. Evans. After I found out, I reread both books I’d bought for Harmony with a whole new eye. I still can’t believe all those lovely, poignant sentiments, not to mention the adorable artwork, came from his mind and fingers. I know the whole don’t judge a book by its cover adage—I guess this is a case of don’t judge a cop by his uniform? It still seems virtually impossible that he could be the talent behind such beautiful words and images.

  A lot of times the solitude of swimming helps me unravel life’s mysteries. I’ll get into the water with a certain problem niggling at me, and by the end of my mile and a half swim, I’ll e
merge from the pool with the problem solved, the mystery unveiled. But no matter how hard my mind works at putting together the pieces of the Trooper Asshat puzzle, I still climb out of the pool just as baffled as when I got in.

  I think I’d need to swim the English Channel to fully work that guy out. Unfortunately, I don’t swim anywhere but the pool.

  “In today’s edition of Delmarva’s Dumbest Criminals,” I begin, looking from face to face of my guy friends, who love it when I share work stories, “we have a real winner.”

  “Oh, I love these stories!” Meric rubs his hands together with excitement. “I could tell you dumb accountant client stories, but I don’t think any of you would find them amusing. Most of them start with, ‘You want to deduct what?!’”

  “Yeah, what happened?” Jack pipes up. “I do have a nice collection of annoying slash lazy student stories, but nothing beats yours.”

  “So you know how Lowe’s and Home Depot and those types of stores display their lawn mowers and other big pieces of seasonal equipment out front?”

  They all nod and wait for me to continue.

  “So this brilliant specimen of humanity goes to the store at like 5 AM, before it’s open, hotwires a lawn mower and tries to steal it. Only all the lawn mowers are chained together, and apparently he didn’t know, so he starts trying to pull this big long chain of lawn mowers. Then the engine caught on fire. Then we showed up. The security footage is absolutely hilarious!”

  “Wow, what the hell is wrong with people?” Drew asks, shaking his head.

  “Yeah, no kidding,” Meric agrees.

  Everyone takes a sip of their beer as silence blankets our small gathering. It’s just the four of us, all sharing a last drink together. It’s Drew’s last weeknight as a single guy. Tomorrow is the wedding rehearsal.

  “You guys are too quiet,” he says, looking around at all of us with disappointment etched on his face. “Doesn’t anyone have any advice for me?”

  “Are you asking for an escape plan?” I ask, giving him a gentle slug on the arm. “Go commit a crime, and I’ll arrest you!”

  “Well, we all know how my first marriage turned out,” Meric offers. “So I don’t think it’d do you any good to take advice from me.”

  “Aren’t you and Lindy going to get hitched?” Drew inquires. “You two are perfect for each other.”

  “I guess I’m the senior married man here,” Jack pipes up after Meric makes a face like he’s not going to entertain that line of questioning. “It’s been what, almost three years for Claire and me now? You wanna know what my best advice is?”

  Drew’s eyes widen as he focuses on Jack. “Would I ask if I didn’t want to know?”

  “You sound nervous, man,” I point out. “Sonnet’s great. I think you guys will be fine.”

  “You hated her in high school,” Drew reminds me.

  “So did you!” I fire back.

  “So I guess no one wants to hear how Claire and I keep the passion alive?” Jack interrupts.

  “Ewww, not when you put it like that, Reilly, geez!” Meric laughs, and we all raise a glass to that.

  “I’m going to tell you anyway,” Jack says, waving his hand dismissively at all of us. “My best piece of advice is to pick your battles. There are going to be annoying things, and most of the time you should just bite your tongue. Eighty percent of the time, ‘Whatever you want, darling!’ is your best friend. Then for the remaining twenty percent, just say, ‘How did you know exactly what I wanted?’”

  We all laugh. Well, Jack and Claire do seem pretty happy, and Claire does not seem like a pushover in the slightest. Though, neither does Jack, for that matter.

  “If you worry more about making her happy than making yourself happy, and she does the same thing? Well, you can’t go wrong with that,” he adds with a more serious tone.

  “Sounds legit,” I agree, clasping my hand on Drew’s shoulder. “You got this, man.”

  “Yeah, I just hope it doesn’t rain. That storm coming up the coast doesn’t look too good. It’s supposed to turn out to sea when it gets to North Carolina, but—”

  “Oh, it’ll be fine,” Jack says. “Even if it does rain, who cares? At the end of the day, you’ll still be married, and that’s what matters most.”

  I glance down at my watch. Shit. I need to go. I have four illustrations I need to finish before we head to the rehearsal tomorrow night. After the rehearsal, all the groomsmen are staying at Drew’s house, while the bridesmaids are staying at Brynne’s brother’s house in Fenwick. So there’s no way I’ll be able to work with all those people around all weekend, and my editor is going to be up my ass if I don’t get her the final drawings for my new book by Monday morning.

  “Hey guys, I gotta get going,” I say, standing up. “I’m going to go close out my tab and head out.”

  “What? Why?” Drew protests. “The night is young! This is my last night as a bachelor!”

  “Which is why we had your bachelor party last weekend,” I remind him. “I’ve had a long week.”

  “What could be more important than hanging out with us?” Drew pouts. “Come on, guys, don’t everyone leave me!”

  “Sonnet’s already left, hasn’t she?” Jack guesses, giving me a knowing look. “He doesn’t want to be lonely.”

  It takes me another fifteen minutes to weasel my way out of the bar and back to my truck. I really didn’t think Drew would be this nervous about getting hitched. If he’s this nervous, I guess that means I’m really far from being ready to make a commitment. Hell, I can’t even imagine telling a woman I date about my secret hobby, though I guess now it’s more of a secret career. The royalties coming in no longer qualify as mere hobby money. In another year, I may make more than my DSP salary!

  I’m just not sure how to tell a woman, “Hey, besides this whole sexy cop thing, I also write and illustrate children’s books.”

  Except for Brynne—who already knows. And she thought it was cool. At least she seemed to.

  I drive up to my little house and turn off the car, but I leave my keys in the ignition, listening to the last few strains of the song playing on the radio. I don’t know if it’s the music or Drew’s loneliness rubbing off on me, but I feel a little sad tonight. Drew has to spend one night away from his love, and he’s dreading it. I haven’t had anyone to spend the night with for weeks. Months. Well, it’s been a long while now anyway.

  I don’t know why it seems easy for guys like Drew, Jack and Meric to find relationships, but it’s so hard for me. I guess it’s true that I’ve always gone after women who are a little quiet, a little shy—and it does take me a little while to get them to open up. Maybe that’s why I liked Brynne from the first time I saw her. She’s bold. She speaks her mind.

  But that is also what scares me the most about her.

  The song ends, and I pull my keys from the ignition. I bet I know a kitty who will be happy to see me, at least. My boy Crockett misses his brother Tubbs. At least I won’t be the only lonely creature in the Everson household tonight. I can’t believe my cat ran away and hasn’t come back. It’s been over a month now. I have lost hope of him returning, so I should probably look into getting Crockett a new buddy to hang out with.

  Even after filling up Crockett’s food dish, I find my mind is still on Dr. Miller. Maybe this weekend she will discover I’m not such a bad guy, after all. Maybe I can win her over when I’m out of uniform for an extended period. Plus, I pretty much rock the suit Sonnet picked out for us to wear. I don’t mean to brag but—

  I head into my second bedroom where my computer is set up and pull out my sketch pad. The character in my newest book is a frog. He’s a little chubby and embarrassed about it, but he learns to love his chubby body and everything it’s capable of by the end of the book. I love being able to put something into the world with a positive message. That’s why it’s hard for me to draw when I feel a little down. It’s so much easier to impart that positivity when I’m happy.

  May
be part of my issue is this whole wedding. I love Drew. He’s been my best friend since, what, fourth grade? I still can’t believe he’s marrying Sonnet Jayne, but with the way those two fought growing up, it seems like poetic justice at its finest—like some real Shakespearean shit. But maybe I’m just selfishly worried that we’ll never be as close after he finally ties the knot.

  Ten

  My eyes flash over to Sonnet’s grandmother, because I cannot believe I just heard those words come out of her mouth in reference to her granddaughter. Sonnet’s eyes tear up, and all I want to do is hug her, then knock some sense into her beyond rude grandmother. And I know it sounds horrible to want to beat up an old lady, but she looks surprisingly spry for her age. I think Sonnet’s parents had her when they were very young, so the grandmother doesn’t look a day over seventy. And seventy is the new fifty, right?

  This curmudgeonly force of nature arrived at my brother’s house along with Sonnet’s parents, who are aging hippies, as passive and harmless as can be. They’re supposed to follow us out to the venue, and the first thing Mrs. Victoria Wilson said to her granddaughter after not seeing her for nearly six months is, “Wow, you’ve gotten a little thick around the middle, haven’t you? Are you expecting already?”

  I glance over at Claire, and I’m afraid the woman is going to come unglued. But, she jumps up and changes the subject with all the grace and aplomb of the bestselling author of a book about positive body image.

  Oh, wow, Claire is an author too, I remember. Just like Chris. And yet she doesn’t know about his books! I really wish I could—

  But he made me promise not to tell.

  “Do you need me to carry anything else out to the car?” I ask, jumping in after Claire’s beautiful remark that Sonnet has been training so hard for her triathlon and looks amazing. That seemed to shut Mrs. Wilson up for a moment, at least.