A Date?

After the insanity of breaking into the hospital and meeting Nick, my brain was a wild tangle of ideas, emotions, and memories of Cindy. I hadn't allowed myself to think of her that much in a long time and I felt very fragile. How could I possibly formulate a plan when my mind was such a mess?

Once I got home and stood through more thoroughly being chewed out by Faye, I went to my room, stuffed a t-shirt under the door to block out sound, turned up my favorite Broadway musical and cried. I was up half the night remembering. I didn't know which was more painful, the good memories or the bad ones. I couldn't separate them in my mind. Cindy was beautiful, bold, full of life, protective. She was also a body in a cold alley with her clothes half off, a knife through her chest and abrasions everywhere. Her hair a tangled, bloody mess. Her empty blue eyes staring right through me.

"Hey Lori, I heard you were sick yesterday. Are you feeling better?"

I looked up, remembering I was at work now. Jon was leaning against the side of my cubicle, a soft smile on his face.

"Yeah, I am, thanks," I lied. I was so much worse than before I could hardly think straight. "I went to the doctor and that helped." That much was true. Having Nick on my team would be very helpful.

"Glad to hear it." He wavered a moment, biting his lip, then charged ahead. "Would you be interested in going to dinner on Friday?"

Oh. I had suspected he was interested for a long time but I was still unprepared for actually being asked out. I hadn't been on a single date in my whole life. I had never seen a reason to say yes to the handful of men who had dared get close enough to ask. But now…a horribly selfish thought came to me. I could use this as an opportunity to get Faye off my trail. If Nick called, I could pretend I was talking to Jon. If I went on a date with him it would give me, the antisocial ice queen, an excuse to be on the phone. One date would probably scare Jon off for good so it would solve two problems at once.

I pasted a smile on my face. "I'd love to."

"Great," he said with a grin. "Do you have any food allergies?"

"No, I'm good with pretty much anything. Surprise me."

I was a tad bit curious what kind of life Jon led outside of work. He had thrown a curve ball by telling me about his kids during the Culverwell case. I'm so seldom thrown off-guard. I had to become very good at reading people to pull off my mission. Maybe this could help me get a better read on him.

The rest of the day was brutal. I had to watch three tearful children in a courtroom get dragged away from their caseworker and returned to their prostitute mother whose boyfriend spent all the money for food on drugs. The mother had supposedly changed her ways. Dumped the boyfriend. Gotten clean. The whole time I'd been a social worker I'd only seen one or two true turn arounds. This one would never last. Those kids would come back to us in much worse condition and then it would be permanent. If Faye wasn't investigating me, I'd consider that mother a prime candidate for my brand of justice. As it was, I had to let her go and hurt those kids more. A cold hand squeezed my heart as I listened to the youngest boy's sobs.

"That was a rough one," Sherry said sadly as she placed paperwork in her briefcase on the way out of the courtroom. "They'll be back in here in less than six months, mark my words."

"Mothers tend to be given the benefit of the doubt," I muttered.

Sherry sighed and rubbed her forehead. "True. Anyway, could you fill out the paperwork for this one? On my desk by the end of the day tomorrow."

"You got it," I said dully. Great. I had to relive all that while still tormented by memories and worried that Nick would call while simultaneously worrying he wouldn't. What a mess.

"Are you alright Lori?"

My tone had not gone unnoticed. Mentally cursing myself for letting any emotion through, at least I had a ready-made excuse. "I guess I still feel a little sick. I'm sure I'll be back to normal by tomorrow."

"Alright. You take care now." Sherry's heels clicked against the tile as she headed to her car to go home.

"You too."

I rushed back to my apartment and saw I had three missed calls from an unidentified number. It couldn't be anyone but Nick. I tried dialing back but he must've been at work because all I got was a robotic voicemail message.

Faye still wasn't home so I helped myself to a box of crackers and flopped down on the couch, looking for the best possible distractor show. After about twenty minutes I settled into the Food Network and all but one of my cats were curled up on the couch with me, as if they could sense my distress. I was as comfortable and relaxed as I could be given the circumstances and I slowly drifted into a hazy dreamless half-sleep.