“Princess treatment or bare minimum?”
Daniel eased himself carefully out of bed, desperately trying not to wake his bride of seventeen years as he tiptoed into the bathroom and gently closed the door. Maya’s flight had been delayed several hours the night before, so she hadn’t given him a hello kiss and crawled under the covers until 2am. Thankfully she was working from home today, so could catch some extra minutes of shut eye.
He texted their daughter, a sophomore in high school, that he’d drive her to school that morning because mom had gotten in so late. She replied with a series of emojis he struggled to interpret, but since it included the shushing face, he assumed she understood the need to keep the noise to a minimum.
Slipping back into the bedroom, he dressed quietly and softly planted a kiss on Maya’s forehead before heading to the kitchen. He waved and mouthed “good morning” to Evie as the sixteen-year-old grabbed a yogurt from the fridge. She smiled and waved back as she settled onto a stool at the counter. The room filled with the welcoming smell of coffee as the Nespresso maker brewed Daniel’s morning cup of coffee. After refilling the water reservoir, he slipped another pod into the machine and a mug on the platform with a sticky note that said “Just press go. Love you.”
Daniel and Evie gathered up their things and headed out the door with two minutes to spare. After dropping her off at school, Daniel joined the throng of other vehicles heading downtown and slowly made his way to the parking lot adjacent to his office. As he held the door for a couple coworkers entering the building, he felt his pocket buzz from an incoming text. He opened it as he entered the elevator, revealing a photo of a full coffee mug and a new sticky note that read “Thanks a latte. Love you too.” He smiled as the elevator dinged and he stepped out onto his floor.
The precinct was already buzzing with activity, a discordant combination of ringing phones, heated conversations and heeled shoes moving about the room. Daniel headed to an office at the back with “Detective Daniel Whitewood” emblazoned on the door. He hung his blazer on the back of his chair before settling in at his desk, taking a deep breath before opening his laptop and officially starting the day.
Several emails awaited him, which he replied to in chronological order. The most important was the results of a tox screen sent up from the morgue. The basic test came back clean of drugs or toxins, but something about this investigation had triggered an itch that Daniel couldn’t quite scratch. He sent a request for an expanded screening, branching out to include additional markers, like unusual substances and less prevalent heavy metals. His concern stemmed from a nurse at the hospital mentioning the patient’s rapid decline had surprised everyone and that the whole thing felt a little off somehow. Daniel didn’t want this man’s death to be categorized as natural if it was in fact a homicide. Seeking justice for victims and showing compassion for their families were deeply rooted in Daniel’s core and were the driving factors that had led him to law enforcement as a career.
Noon was quickly approaching as Daniel grabbed his jacket and headed back to the elevator. As he stepped out the main entrance of the precinct, the sound of screeching tires caught his attention. About a block north he could see a black coupe tearing down the road, heading in his direction. “What an idiot” flashed across his mind - thinking how dumb it was to speed past a police station - when something else caught his eye. A teenager with comically large headphones had stepped into the street, clearly unaware of the incoming sportscar. Daniel leapt down the last two steps and sprinted across the road. When the coupe was about a car-length away, the boy looked up and froze in shock by the closeness and impending impact. At that moment Daniel tackled him, launching them both forward and out of the path of the speeding vehicle. When Daniel asked if he was ok, the boy just nodded numbly, the reality of what could have happened washing over him. Daniel took him at his word and called dispatch, alerting them of the car, its basic description and asking them to inform officers patrolling the area what direction it was heading.
After another brief check in with the boy to make sure he was alright, Daniel began walking toward downtown and the spire slipped in among all the skyscrapers around it. Hurrying through the heavy wooden doors, he genuflected and slipped into a pew just as the bells rang to begin Mass. While offering a reverent Mass, Fr. Hartjoy understood that the people attending were on their lunch break. Since he wanted to make sure they had time to eat something before returning to work, he traditionally kept his homilies to three minutes flat and tried to pick topics that affected daily work life, such as how gossip can be a sin against the 5th commandment (“thou shalt not kill” someone’s reputation unnecessarily) or the 8th commandment (“thou shall not bear false witness against thy neighbor,” if the gossip is untrue). Daniel appreciated his brevity and sense of humor, since both uplifted his long and typically weighty days.
After grabbing a sandwich from his favorite hole-in-the-wall, Daniel returned to his office and dove back into the mountain of paperwork awaiting him. Midafternoon he had to endure back-to-back meetings. Bureaucracy and red tape always frustrated him, but he took them in stride and remained focused since they were a reality of the job. Once those were done, he decided to wrap up his notes on two more files before calling it a day. He finally got on a roll, coming up for air when the noise of slamming drawers and evening goodbyes drew his attention. He looked at the clock, which blinked 6:30pm at him. Horrified since he normally left just after 5pm, he picked up his phone to see two missed texts from his wife, one from while he was in meetings and another from two hours ago.
“Don’t forget we’re having Greg and Beth over for dinner tonight. Adios, cinnamon toast!”
4:23pm
“Please pick up a bottle of wine on your way home! I thought I had one, but alas!”
He grabbed his coat, throwing it on as he frantically shot off a text while walking to the elevator.
“I just saw your texts! I’m so sorry! I’m leaving now and will pick up wine on my way. Be home soon!”
Daniel walked quickly to his car, jumped in and headed straight for the store near his house. As he drove he tried to remember what Maya had planned for dinner. Should he get red or white? He knew her favorite was Josh Cellars Pinot Grigio, so decided to grab that and pray it went with what she was making.
He pulled into the driveway as Greg and Beth were climbing out of their car. He greeted and welcomed them into the house, calling out to Maya to let her know they’d arrived. She came out from the kitchen, smiling as she wiped her hands on the dish towel hanging from the front of her apron. She embraced Daniel and kissed his cheek before saying hello to their guests. He took her hand as they stood chatting for a few minutes, squeezing it gently in apology. She squeezed it back, letting him know she accepted.
The dinner went well, with good food and conversation. Once the couple left, Daniel helped clear the table, carrying a stack of plates into the kitchen. As he and Maya cleaned and loaded the dishwasher, he apologized again.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t respond to your texts. I should have checked my phone after my afternoon meeting and then I completely lost track of time while working on some files. I didn’t mean to leave you with all the dinner preparations.”
Maya stopped rinsing and gazed affectionately at him. “I appreciate your apologies, Tater Tot. You’re always so good about letting me know when you’re running late that I knew something had come up. But thank you for taking responsibility for it anyway. It means a lot to me.”
Daniel squeezed her arm and smiled appreciatively. They finished cleaning up and headed into the living room, curling up on the couch together to watch their favorite show, enjoying the precious moments they were able to spend together.
No comments:
Post a Comment