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On the doorstep of the Gafferty family home, Harry shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She straightened her collar and pushed a wisp of stray hair out of her face. With one last glance at the glowing button that should have rang the doorbell, she stepped back and pulled out her cell phone.
"Where are you?" she asked Cal as soon as he answered.
In the background, she heard laughing, something metal clattering, and music too loud to be normal dinner fare. "I'm at home with Sister Bear. Where are you?"
"I'm at the door, genius," she said with a grin. "Come let me in."
"The door's open, Thresher."
"Let me in." She ended the call and dropped her phone back into the pocket of her slacks. She knew she would be overdressed, knew the Gafferty clan were more than casual, but she never could bring herself to dress down. Her grandfather would have said it didn't look right; it wasn't a good idea to let people see you comfortable. They might get strange ideas.
Cal opened the door in sweatpants and a sleeveless t-shirt. He had a beautiful, round-faced baby in a set of red-and-white striped pajamas in his arms. "Hey, hey, look who it is, Lilliann. It's Auntie Thresher."
"I don't think so," Harry responded, and pushed gently by him, but not before she cast a glance down at the glowing brown face of his niece. "She's cute."
"Cute?" he asked, and held the baby above his head. "Are you kidding?" His voice had changed, become goofier and more childlike, and she couldn't suppress a grin. "She's the most perfect baby in the whole world. Isn't she? Yes, she is!"
Harry shook her head, laughing. "You're something else, you know that? I never thought you'd be this way."
Cal pulled the smiling baby back into his football hold and raised his eyebrows. "What way?"
Harry gestured at the baby. "I don't know. You really took to her."
"She looks just like Little Bear," he said, and beamed down at the baby again. "Besides, who couldn't love something so squishy and sweet?" he asked, his voice dropping back into the baby-talk cadence.
"Cal," a voice said from the kitchen. "Quit talking to her like that. You're going to make her an idiot." Cynthia Gafferty walked into the room with them and stopped short, a blush rising in her cheeks. "Oh, Detective, I didn't realize you were here."
Harry bit her lip to stop from correcting her. "You can call me Harry. We've known each other long enough, I think."
Cynthia's smile was tense, but she was cordial as she crossed the room and side-hugged Harry. Cynthia was easily a foot shorter than her, and Harry had to turn her eyes down just to still see the petite powerhouse. "I see you've met Lilliann. How are you?"
"I can't complain," Harry answered. "She's cute."
"Looks every bit like her daddy," Cynthia said, then pulled out of the hug and walked toward her brother and child. "I just wish he was around to see her. He might change his mind about being a coward and decide to be a father."
"You haven't heard from him?" Harry asked. Cal gave her a pointed look that she ignored.
Cynthia shook her head and pushed Cal's shirt out of the baby's eyes. "I haven't had a word since before I even knew I was expecting. I thought maybe he could sense it, you know, and he just bolted. It's a shame."
"It is."
Cal let a pregnant beat go by, then looked down at the baby with a goofy grin. "I'll bet Lilliann is just as hungry as Uncle Bear. Isn't that right, my little peanut butter cup?"
"Ugh, you're gonna make me blow chunks," his younger sister said, and gestured for Harry to follow her. "Dinner's ready when you are."
"It smells delicious," Harry said, and followed Cynthia toward the kitchen.
Cal joined her as they walked inside. "You want to stop talking about Sperm Donor, please?"
Harry didn't answer. She walked to the stovetop and took a plate from Cynthia as Cal walked the baby to a swing set up beside the dinner table in the little attached dining area. "This looks amazing. You didn't have to go to all this trouble for me."
Cal's little sister laughed, and it transformed her whole face. "Are you kidding? I make this much every night. Your partner..."
"Ex-partner," Harry and Cal said in unison.
Cynthia made a face and plopped a generous portion of creamed red potatoes on Harry's plate. "Ex-partner," she said, giving both of them a dirty look. "This chump eats like a football player. I don't know where he puts it. Maybe in his fat head," she said, poking Cal in the temple as he walked up to join them.
"You know I need the extra fuel." Cal grabbed a plate and proceeded to fill it with a heaping portion of everything on the stove, reaching over and around Harry and Cynthia to get to it all, towering over them like the Addams' Family's loyal butler or Frankenstein's monster. "How else could I keep the ladies satisfied?"
Harry ducked under him with her plate and walked toward the table to put it down in the guest spot. "What ladies?"
Cynthia sucker-punched Cal in the ribs to move him out of the way so she could serve herself. "One lady in particular," she said in a teasing voice. "My brother, the big-time playa, is now a one-woman man," she said, turning to glance over her shoulder at Harry. "He's settled down!"
Harry walked back toward them to grab a glass from the pantry. "She's joking, right?" she asked as she pulled one down. When Cal didn't answer, she quickly turned around, her hand to her chest miming heart palpitations. "Et tu, Brute?"
Cal blushed and walked his plate to the table. "You can't judge me," he said.
"I can, and I will," Harry said with a chuckle. She filled her glass with water, then held it up at Cynthia. "Want some?"
Cynthia held up a wine glass. "I stopped breastfeeding, so I'm going to treat myself. There are some serious advantages to having a built-in babysitter." She gestured at Cal, who was fussing over the baby's blanket. "You want a glass?"
"I shouldn't," Harry said. "With the way things are going with the department, I might never stop."
She followed Cynthia back to the table and the three sat down to eat. Harry was halfway through her roasted asparagus when Cynthia asked about the department. She choked down the rest of her bite, put down her fork, and took several long drinks from her glass. She shouldn't have mentioned it. It was a sore subject between Cal and Cynthia, always had been. When he had his badge, she was always on him to get a better, safer job. But when he was put on leave, and decided not to go back, she was angry at him for losing sight of his calling.
"Technical, red tape garbage," Harry answered. "I'm not sure when or if I'll be reinstated. The captain keeps me in the loop, but even she doesn't know much. I'm supposed to hear by March, I think." She took another sip of her water, then picked up her fork, determined not to lose her appetite. "Cal, what's your plan?"
"His plan," Cynthia said, interrupting her brother before he could swallow and take a breath to speak, "is to be a cashier at McDonald's."
"That's not true," Harry said. It was more of a question than she had expected it to be, and she watched Cal carefully as he shoveled another bite of potatoes into his mouth.
He gulped the potatoes down and looked from his sister to his old partner. "I don't know. But I'm still on the payroll at the department until they decide either way, so I have time. I'm saving up what we don't need here, so I have a buffer in case it takes me a while to find a job." He gave Cynthia a pointed look. "Not that it will. I'm an easy hire."
"But why would you want to give up what you love?" Cynthia complained.
The baby squealed and Cal jumped up from the table, grateful to have something to do besides listen to his sister. He recovered the blanket dislodged by two pudgy, kicking feet, and stuffed the little mouth with a pacifier that looked alien to Harry. The shape seemed off, and the thing looked too large for the little face. She turned back to her plate and started to shovel in her food. She had had just about all she could take of the current conversation, and if this was the way the night was going, she didn't want to be a part of it.
"So, what are you going to do for Valentine's Day?" Cal asked Harry.
She nearly choked, and had to gulp down the rest of her water and wipe at her mouth before she could speak. "Jesus, are you trying to kill me?"
Cal grinned. "Are you going to try to take out that pretty, young CSS?"
Harry glared at him. "What do you know about that?"
"I know you've been seeing a lot of her lately," he said, and shoved another half a pork chop into his mouth. "Brady told me."
"Brady? What does Brady know?"
He chewed a moment, then swallowed the meat nearly whole. "Brady said she heard Busy talking you up at the precinct the other day to that new guy, what's his name, the one with the hair? He started right before..." Cal cleared his throat. "You know, the fussy one."
"The gay one, you mean?" Harry asked, trying to contain her smirk.
Cal shrugged. "I guess. Brady says they're always chattering away like a couple of hens." There was a scuffle under the table; Cal yelped and made a face at Cynthia. "What was that for?"
"That's sexist," Cynthia said. She turned to Harry. "Who's Busy?"
Harry put down her fork and pushed her plate slightly away. "We've been sort of seeing each other for the past month. She's a crime scene analyst at the precinct. Helped us with our last case. Sweet girl."
"Harry tried that old romance novel thing on her and it worked," Cal said, and shoved the last of the meat and potatoes into his mouth in one bite.
Cynthia gave him a disgusted look. "What's the 'old romance novel thing'?"
"You know," Cal said, swallowing and wiping his mouth, "that thing where she's a total jerk to this girl one minute, then nice the next, then asking her for a favor... Until one day, they end up falling into bed together. She's got the girl head-over-heels for her."
"I don't think that's true," Harry started, but Cal leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.
"If it's not true, why is she talking about you to anyone who will listen?"
Harry frowned. She knew they needed to talk about things, define the relationship as it were, but she hadn't wanted to do it yet. She was enjoying herself, but they both knew it wasn't permanent. Or so she thought.
"Yep, she's definitely doing the romance novel thing," Cal said, tossing his napkin on top of his nearly clean plate. "Now she's going to dump the girl and break her heart. Classic Thresher."
"Oh, bite me, Cal," she shot back, and stood up. She glanced at Cynthia. "Thank you for the great meal, but I think I need to get home. Long day tomorrow."
"Doing what?" Cal asked. Cynthia kicked him under the table again, but he held back a yelp.
"I'm volunteering at the youth shelter," Harry told him. "Good deeds and all that."
Cynthia stood up and walked with Harry toward the front door, leaving Cal sitting at the table alone. "I think that's great, Harry. You should do that. I'm sure they're going to have you back. You're the best detective that place has ever seen."
"Thanks."
Cynthia bit her lip as they reached the door. She sized Harry up for a moment, then met her eyes. "Don't take Cal's garbage too seriously. You know he just doesn't know when to quit."
"I know," Harry said, and gave Cynthia another side-arm hug. "Tell him to call me tomorrow. I have a favor I want to ask him."
