Frisk Me

It was a bold question, and he hoped she wouldn’t take it as an affront to Mike’s memory.

But it had been two years. And if anyone deserved to be happy, it was this woman.

To his relief, a shy smile crept across her face and she glanced down at the table.

“Maybe. It’s early yet, but there’s this single dad at Joey’s school. We’ve done coffee a couple times, and have dinner plans on Friday.”

Luc squeezed her hand. “Can I watch Joey for you?”

She glanced up in surprise, and he regretted her astonishment. He should have been here all along, helping out.

“I should have been around,” he said gruffly. “I’m hoping better late than never…”

She squeezed his hand back. “Luc. You don’t owe us anything. And his grandparents are watching him this weekend. But thank you.”

Luc cleared his throat. “Beverly, we never really talked about what happened that day.”

“The day when Mike died.”

Luc flinched at her candor. “Yes.”

Bev stood and retrieved the coffeepot even though they’d both barely touched their mugs.

“Luc, have you ever talked to your mom about what it’s like to be married to a cop? To have four sons that are cops?”

He frowned. What did his mother have to do with this?

“Not really,” he admitted.

“Growing up, did you ever see the tension on her face when your dad was later than he said he’d be? Or the slight bracing every time he left for work in the morning?”

Luc swallowed. Nodded. Sure, he’d seen it.

Beverly’s expression was both sad and kind. “Being married to a cop isn’t like being married to a Wall Street broker or a bartender or a marketing manager, Luca. The back of your mind…the back of your heart…always knows that every time you kiss him good-bye in the morning might be the last time you ever see him.”

Luc opened his mouth, but she cut him off.

“I know you think there were things you could have done differently, and maybe there were. But Luc, it could have just as easily happened if he’d been called to a domestic dispute case gone wrong, or hostage situation, or just some unstable whacko.”

He opened his mouth again, but Bev wasn’t done. “It could have just as easily been you that was shot, Luc. You ever think about that?”

Her quiet statement rolled over Luc like a semi.

He hadn’t thought about that.

Not once had it ever occurred to him that he and Mike had walked side by side up the walkway to that decrepit house.

It hadn’t even really occurred to him that he’d been two feet away from Mike when the bullets ripped through him.

Luc had never stopped to think that when the asshole had opened his front door and taken aim at a cop, he’d done so at random.

It could have just as easily been Luc who died that day.

And it could have been Mike who was beating himself up over his partner’s death.

Bev nodded as she saw that he understood. “I don’t blame you for feeling what you feel, Luc. I know you feel guilty, just as I know in my heart that Mike would have the same struggles, the same survivor’s guilt if things had ended differently. And I would have told him what I’m telling you now: don’t let a terrible twist of fate destroy your life. It’s done, Luc. It’s done. And the best any of us can do is put our best foot toward tomorrow.”

Luc started to take a sip of coffee before realizing that he didn’t even want it.

“Bev, there’s something I need to tell you about that day. Something I should have talked to you about a long time ago.”

She nodded once, telling him to continue.

Lauren Layne's books