CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

 

Monday – New Year’s Eve

 

"Your friend looks like she's going to pop."

Jack was just old enough to remember Goldie Hawn in Rowan & Martin's Laugh-In TV series, and that's just who Chad reminded him of now. She'd dressed as a '60s hippie flower child, the outfit including a brightly colored paisley skimmer dress with long bell sleeves; daisy tights and knee-high patent leather boots covered her thin legs; her blonde pixie-cut wig had been threaded with tiny flowers; and a pair of round glasses with rainbow colored lenses completed the look. Her makeup had given her a natural glow rather than her traditional over-the-top look.

"Nice outfit. Do I call you Goldie now?" Jack asked.

"You can call me anything you want, sugar. But sure, for tonight, I'm Goldie."

Jack rolled his eyes over the sugar comment but ignored it. "Yeah, Maria is due in a couple weeks. She said this is her last chance to have some fun before the kid goes off to college. Ray's scared he or she will choose SFSU then get a job in the city and end up living at home forever."

"If this is her last outing, maybe she'll give me that amazing dress." Marilyn tipped her head in Maria's direction, indicating the bright pink form-fitting dress that fell just below her knees. Her dark blue shawl hung over her arms, revealing narrow straps and her bare shoulders.

Chuckling, Jack said, "Maybe."

"Do you think Ray would come out with me if I wore it? Look at him." Marilyn growled deep in her throat. "Meow!"

Ray's pink shirt matched the color of Maria's dress and was open at the collar. His dark blue trousers and single-button blazer were the same color as her shawl. The couple had turned heads when they'd arrived and strolled through the club, with his styled, slicked back hair and now clean-shaven face and Maria's natural beauty and long, wavy black hair.

Jack just chuckled again. "I'm feeling a bit underdressed compared to everyone else here."

Goldie leaned back as much as the crowd would allow and gave Jack the once over. "Honey, there isn't anything underdressed about you. Those trousers are hugging your ass in all the right places, man, and I can see those pecs under that sweater. I love the leather jacket and boots, too. I get a sense you wear a lot of black, but the look you're going for is classic Italian."

"It's a good thing I'm Italian then."

Goldie got up close and said, "I'd love to see what's under all that black." She lifted a hand to silence him when he opened his mouth to speak. "I know, honey, I know. Ain't never gonna happen, but that doesn't mean a girl can't dream."

Jack wasn't sure how he felt having this information, so he turned his attention to the stage. He jerked his head in that direction and said, "Great performance. She's really good."

Bunny MacTaversnatch had been performing on stage for the last half hour—vacillating between singing and cracking a few jokes. Jack had to admit, she was infectious and found himself getting into the performance with everyone else.

"She was a surprise, I can tell you. First time in the city so first time entering the competition. She blew everyone else out of the water. Her win is well deserved. I wish she lived in the city. I'd contract her as a house artist. Look at all these people." Goldie spun and gestured around the room. "If we had Bunny on the books, this place could be hopping like this every night."

Bunny had hung up the tartan and tonight had dressed in what Leah would have called come-fuck-me red. She wore a form-fitting strapless, red-sequined body suit with matching platform red high heels and tule bustle skirt. Her long, shapely legs were clad in white tights and matching white gloves that covered her upper arms. The heavily applied makeup gave her a piercing I want to swallow you whole gaze, and her wavy, red-orange tresses framed her beautiful face and hung just off her shoulder.

Bunny's style exuded femininity and sensuality, even with the shock of red-orange chest hairs curling over the low-cut bustier and her enviously thick beard that hung down to her collarbone.

Jack chuckled. He'd met Bunny backstage last week while she was getting ready for the Christmas competition finale. She'd arrived in street clothes. Shed of her Bunny persona, Tyler Dean looked like every other hipster in the city.

Goldie grasped Jack's arm and looked up with surprise on her face. "Did you hear about Isaac?"

"No. What about him?" Jack casually asked. He had heard but wanted to know what she knew.

"He was arrested yesterday at his home. Can you believe it?" Goldie's free hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, my ever-lovin' God! It turns out that Rod was DEA and he thought I was dealing drugs in my own club. Me! Turns out it was Isaac. The rat bastard. I was so good to that man."

"Seriously? Biker Rod? I don't believe it." Jack gasped for effect.

"Seriously! And that Michael Smith who was killed, it turns out he was one of the guys Isaac set up in the club to supply my patrons. I say good riddance to them all. How dare they put my club in danger. I've worked my whole life for this." Goldie folded her arms in front of her, a look of disgust crossing her face.

"You said Smith was one of the people selling in the club for Isaac. There were others?"

Goldie nodded. "At least three. That Smith guy and two of my servers. I just can't believe it. Thank goodness I brought in some temps to work the party tonight or I would have been shorthanded. And," she emphasized, "I've had to hire in more security. I really wish I could hire you full time, Jack. I like you. But more importantly, I trust you. It's going to be hard for me to trust anyone else."

Jack put a hand on Goldie's shoulder and looked her in the eye. "I appreciate your trust. I know how hard it can be to trust again when you feel you've been betrayed, but I'm sure your new security will work out fine. Now that the competition is over and tomorrow starts a new year, you'll have more time to put into getting better security measures in place to prevent this from happening again."

Goldie smiled up at him. "I'm sure you're right."

Just then, someone grabbed Jack by the arm and dragged him backward. He spun to see who it was.

"Maria," he gasped. Her other hand was grasping Ray's arm in a similar fashion, her eyes squeezed shut and her jaw clenched. Jack recognized labor when he saw it. "How long have you been having contractions?"

She gave him a surprised look. "Contractions? I thought it was the excitement about coming out tonight." The softening of her features told Jack the cramp was subsiding.

"Is this the first one here in the club?" Jack asked.

"Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well?" Ray asked.

She shook her head, looking at Ray then back to Jack. "I've had a couple little cramps, but really, I thought it was just the excitement. Or maybe something I ate."

"I’m pretty sure you're in labor, Maria." Jack gazed between his friends. "We need to get you to the hospital. Ray, where's your car?"

"Up the road. I'll give you the keys—"

"My Jeep's out back." He gazed at Maria. "Has your water broken yet?" She shook her head. "Good. That means we have time. Are you okay to walk?" When she nodded she was, Jack turned to make his excuses to Goldie.

She waved both hands in a shooing motion. "Go. Go! Good luck, sweetheart." Jack heard over his shoulder, "I'd be okay if you name the baby after me!"

 

Jack rose and paced the waiting room. They'd arrived hours ago with Maria. While he wasn't allowed into the birthing room, he wasn't going anywhere. He wanted to be here for his friends and meet his new niece or nephew the moment he was allowed to. In the meantime, he was alone with his thoughts. More than once he had to shoo the black dog from the corner of the room.

Jack felt like he'd been in a tailspin the last few days.

If trying to track down the person responsible for killing club patrons wasn't emotionally charged enough, seeing Nick in the hospital bed had been sobering. Standing at the door and looking in at his friend's frail body, Jack had realized how he'd come to rely on Nick always being there when he needed him. He knew Nick was old, but he never thought the old man would go before he did. Until he found those responsible for taking his family from him, Jack needed Nick's friendship and counsel to keep him focused.

Nick had led Jack to believe he'd be released to return to his normal Sunday Mass, and a huge weight seemed to have lifted off Jack's chest and allowed him to focus on the case. He'd promised to attend Mass this time, rather than parking himself outside the doors and waiting for everyone to leave first before entering the church.

However, Saturday afternoon, the rector had called and asked Jack to come up to the church.

"Father Nicholas has left something for you," he'd said.

Confused, Jack asked, "I'll be at Mass tomorrow. Can I pick it up then?"

"I think you should come for it now. Or if you prefer, I can walk it down to you."

"That's okay. I'll be right up."

When he'd arrived at the church ten minutes later after a quick jog up the hill, the last thing Jack expected was to see the coffin at the altar and Nick lying inside it. The rector said some kind words when he placed an envelope in Jack's hands, but he hadn't heard any of it as he gazed at his friend. Shock washed over him and he collapsed into the nearest pew. He took long, deep breaths to calm his racing heart as he willed his friend to sit up and tell him it was all just a bad joke.

He didn't know how long he sat there staring at Nick's profile before the rector returned to ask Jack if he was all right. He'd assured the man he was fine and waited for him to walk away before he allowed his body to start shaking again.

He clenched and unclenched his hands repeatedly before realizing the envelope was still in his hand, now crushed and wadded in his fist. He didn't want to open it, but he forced himself to break the seal and remove the crumpled note inside.

To my dearest friend, Jack,

Please don't be angry with me for not telling you the full truth when we spoke yesterday. You're a vital cog in the machine that keeps this city safe and I didn't want to distract you at such a vital stage in your investigation. I have faith that you've succeeded, once again, in protecting our fellow San Franciscans by capturing your suspect and bringing them to justice. We're all grateful to have you in our lives. The world needs more men like you.

I mean that, Jack. You're a good man, but I know you let yourself go to dark places—your sorrow is immeasurable. You've suffered more than most people, yet you remain strong and determined, even through your worst days. Please know that if God accepts my contrition and allows me into the Kingdom of Heaven, I will seek out your family and tell them of the man I know and of your selfless acts toward others. And of your unwavering love and devotion for them. When it's your time, you will be with them again. But only when it's your time, Jack.

My last wish on this mortal plane is for you, my friend. Find a way through your grief and start living again, rather than just surviving.

Learn to accept that you may never find the answers you're looking for. Life is too short to dwell in the past.

Let others in again. You're not alone. You have only to destroy the wall you've built around your soul and recognize that you are loved and cherished by many people. Lean on your friends and those you trust. And if the opportunity presents itself, find love again.

I've been blessed to have called you my friend and have been honored you've turned to me to help guide you through your darkness. I regret that I'll no longer be here in the flesh to continue filling that role in your life, but know I'll always be here in spirit. You've only to think of me and I'll be listening. I believe in your heart you'll know what my advice will be.

There are many things I'd say to you, and one day when the time is right, we'll meet again and share another drink after a good, long talk.

I spent my youth as a selfish punk who only thought of himself, so I've spent the last fifty-odd years trying to right my indiscretions. But there is one last thing I want for myself. I would be honored if you would say a few words for me on the day I'm laid to rest. I know you will honor a dying old man’s last request, so I'll thank you now.

God be with you, my friend.

Nicholas

With the help of the Navarros, Jack had been able to honor Nick's last wish. They'd taken in Dewayne since Christmas—they had the room and the boy was quickly becoming emotionally attached to Maria. Jack was grateful his friends had stepped up to the challenge but was more grateful for his empty apartment when he returned from St. Frank’s. He spent the rest of Saturday with a thirty-dollar bottle of Jameson—two zeroes less than Caroline's Irish tipple—and tried coming up with a eulogy for Nick.

Sunday funerals were not commonplace, but as Nick had been one of their own, the church scheduled a special Mass. Jack had retrieved the whiskey and a pair of glasses from Nick's office and stowed them behind the pulpit until it was his turn to talk.

When he'd finally stepped up to say his piece, he poured out a shot of whiskey into one glass as he explained about the tradition he shared with Father Nicholas.

Jack had let the whiskey rest while he'd spoken about the Nick he knew. He'd left out the sad and tragic parts of the man's early life—that was no longer who Nick was. He'd emphasized the man's kindness and generosity, his love of the community and city, and his dedicated spiritual counsel and devoted friendship.

He looked out across the packed pews as he spoke and was surprised to see Janeen Baker, the manager of Dinish Ranganathan's apartment building. Had Nick been counseling her too? Jack didn't remember ever seeing her leave any of Nick's services.

When he was done speaking, Jack raised the glass and saluted his friend before quickly downing the amber liquid. Beside the coffin, he'd gazed down at Nick through his tears one last time before the lid was lowered for the last time.

"We'll meet again, my friend, and share another drink together."

Jack's legs had trembled under the weight of the coffin as he helped carry it out to the waiting hearse. It wasn't from his burden's weight—the man seemed to have shrunk in the final stages of his illness—but from his overwhelming grief. The last time Jack had felt this weak was the day he carried his daughter's tiny coffin. The weight felt like a ton of bricks; a feeling that had remained with him ever since. Nick's death only compounded things. And he knew that once he found Leah, the overwhelming weight would be too much to bear.

Nick had left written instructions for his cremation, a task which the Church organized, so Jack said goodbye from the church steps and watched the hearse carry away his friend.

Ray and Maria had attended the service along with Dewayne. They asked Jack to come home with them, but he assured them he was all right and wanted to be alone for a while. He'd spent the rest of the day with the remaining whiskey, and his darkness.

"I'm sorry they won't let you in, Jack."

Jack spun away from the window, pushing his dark thoughts aside, as he did the tears he hadn't realized he was shedding.

"Well?" He held his breath in anticipation. It had been a while since Ray had come to give Jack an update on Maria's condition.

He well understood what Ray was going through. While waiting through the night, he recalled every moment just before Zoë arrived—his adrenaline switched on high for hours, the constant pounding in his chest, the ache in his legs because he couldn't sit still. And that moment when he held Zoë in his arms for the first time, it was as if the world had stilled and the angels sang just for her.

He missed the hell out of his little girl but found much of the same anticipation for his friends as they were about to bring a new life into their family.

He waited for a long moment, gazing into this friend's eyes. He looked tired. Jack was sure the same adrenaline that had kept him going all those years ago had been keeping Ray going tonight. But it lasted only so long. His friend wavered on his feet, but Jack wanted to throttle him. "Well?" he repeated more urgently, feeling himself leaning forward to grasp him by the audacious pink shirt front.

A weak smile crossed Ray's face. "It's a girl," he said meekly.

For a moment, Jack stood motionless, letting the news sink in, then he let his body follow its trajectory and threw his arms around his friend and held him tightly. He felt Ray's arms around him and squeezing him back. Jack's eyes burned with emotion and tears rolled down his face. He clapped Ray's back and hugged him again before leaning away and scrubbing his cheeks with the back of his hand.

"A girl?" Jack remembered those words when the doctor had told him the sex of his and Leah's child. They never asked during the scans; they wanted it to be a surprise. He was good either way as long as the baby was healthy. "A girl!" he finally exclaimed.

Ray beamed up at Jack. "I have a daughter, Jack. A daughter!"

Jack clasped his friend by the shoulders. "Ten fingers and toes?"

Ray nodded. "She's healthy and absolutely perfect. Come on. Let's go meet your new niece, Tío Joaquín."

When they reached Maria's room, Jack stopped at the door. She was propped up against the raised bed, her wavy dark hair hanging down around her shoulders, and the blanket barely covering her and the newborn at her breast.

There were no other words for it. Maria was radiant.

Jack knew about the Magic Hour and how important the first suckle was.

Only when Maria finally looked up did he enter the room. He walked around the bed and kissed her on the cheek. "You look amazing, Maria. I'm so happy for you and Ray." He gazed at the baby's profile and blinked back a flash of Zoë and Leah in the Magic Hour. "She's absolutely beautiful."

Despite the early hour and waning adrenaline, the baby's arrival seemed to give everyone a second wind. Maria repeatedly apologized for ruining their night out, but she'd loved the event. Jack assured her the night hadn't been ruined but had been made better by the arrival of their daughter.

The door opened just then and a nurse entered. She moved past Ray to check mother and baby. "How's she doing, Mother? Any trouble feeding?" she asked, fluffing up the pillows and straightening the blanket.

"She's perfect. I think she's fallen asleep though," Maria said.

"It's been a busy day for her. Let's have her and I'll see if she's used her diaper yet." After changing the diaper and firmly bundling the baby in her blanket, the nurse asked, "Shall I put her in the cot?"

Ray stepped forward with outstretched arms. "I'll take her." Once the nurse was gone, Ray moved over to Jack. "Do you want to hold your niece?"

Did he? Jack gazed at the baby and again, images of Zoë flashed in his mind. Was this all too much, too soon?

Before he could decide, Ray stepped closer and nestled the baby in Jack's arms. It was second nature holding the swaddled newborn against his chest. He moved to a bedside chair and sat. He cradled the baby's head in one hand and her tiny body in the other and gazed down at her for a long moment.

This time last week, in similar early hours of the morning, Jack had witnessed the tragic end of a woman's life. Now, things had come one-eighty and he welcomed a new life into the world. And she was perfect.

When he looked up, Ray had moved to sit on the bedside and held Maria against his shoulder. She looked up at her husband and locked her gaze with his.

Jack knew those glances couples shared. They spoke volumes in the silence.

"What?" he cautiously asked. His friends looked up. Jack's gaze moved back and forth, waiting for one of them to speak. "What?" he repeated.

"Jack, Maria and I have been talking about names," Ray finally said. "You know . . . what to call the baby if it was a boy or girl."

"Yeah," Jack drew out.

"We were thinking, if it was okay with you—"

Maria cut in. "You know you're already the uncle to our children, right, Jack?" He nodded. "We'd also like you to be her godfather."

Jack was taken aback. He'd had the last few months getting used to the idea of being an uncle, but a godfather? That came with a whole different set of responsibilities. The biggest one included taking in the child if anything should happen to her parents, God forbid.

"We also want to give her Zoë's name," Maria added.

After a long moment trying to digest what Maria had just said, he turned away from his friends and looked to a point across the room he couldn't see because images of his Zoë abruptly raced through his memory.

How did he feel about this? Could he be okay with calling his niece by his own daughter's name? Would he expect to see his Zoë every time he said her name?

He didn't know what to think or say, because he didn't know how he felt about any of it. Sure, yeah, Ray and Maria had been his Zoë's godparents. But nearly four years later, he was still processing the loss of his family and now someone wanted to name their child after his own.

Ray broke the silence and said in a subdued tone, "We're naming her Esmeralda."

"Right. Zoë would be her second name, as a way to remember your little girl through ours," Maria added.

Jack moved his gaze back to the child in his hands and gazed into the dark blue eyes typical of newborns. He knew in time they'd be the same dark chocolate brown of her parents. And over time, she'd start looking more and more like Ray and Maria.

Words from Nick's letter whispered in the back of Jack's mind. Find a way through your grief and start living again, rather than just surviving . . . And if the opportunity presents itself, find love again.

Was this the opportunity he needed to let love in again? He was sure Nick meant he needed to start dating again, but Jack wasn't ready for that. He didn't know if he'd ever be ready. But could he love Ray and Maria's child as if she were his own?

"Esmeralda Zoë Navarro," he whispered. The baby's big eyes moved toward the sound of his voice and she seemed to look up at him. He whispered the full name again. The edges of her lips slightly curled. "She's smiling," he exclaimed. "I said her name and she smiled."

"She loves you already, Jack," said Maria.

"I love her too." Jack looked up at his friends, warmth spreading through parts of him he thought long dead. "Yeah, I'm good with calling her Zoë. And if anything were to happen, I will protect her with my life."