2
Two weeks later …
It was Christmas Eve, and Isaac had just finished a grueling twelve-hour shift. He also had to be back at work tomorrow morning at 5 a.m. Like Santa’s elves, there was no rest for those who served. But for now, he was done. Barely able to keep his eyes from shutting, he pushed open the door of the men’s locker room at the precinct and made his way into the lobby when he spied his friend and fellow officer Sidney.
“Hey, Sid. How goes it?” He fought back a yawn but was unsuccessful.
Sid lifted her chin in acknowledgement. “Oh, you know, never a dull moment on Christmas Eve in the city. What about you? Got any big plans tonight?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Heading home to sleep. You doing anything for Christmas?”
“Yeah, Mel and I did our Christmas with her family this morning and afternoon. Then we’ll head to see my family tomorrow. We’re both working Christmas Eve and Christmas Day night so we can finally have that honeymoon for New Year’s. Two weeks in Hawaii? Yes, please.”
Sidney and her wife, Melody, another cop, had gotten married over the summer and were two of Isaac’s closest friends on the force. The three of them often went out for drinks after work, hit The Rage Room or went ax-throwing.
He yawned again. “Oh, that’s right. The honeymoon, that’s exciting.”
Sidney finished filling out the form she was tackling, then slid the documents back below the Plexiglas to the woman at the reception desk. “Whatever happened with that mom and the baby you delivered in the traffic jam and storm?”
“Funny you should ask,” he said, his eyelids feeling heavy, brain foggy. “I was going to ask either you or Mel, since you’re both aunts to a fuck-ton of nieces and nephews, but when is it the appropriate time to go visit after someone has had a baby? It’s been two weeks, and I wanted to go check on her sooner. I just wasn’t sure on the protocol. I’m not family. Not even a friend.”
“But you are the guy who held her hand as she pushed a human from her body, so you do get a pass,” she said with a chuckle. “But to answer your question, two weeks is a good amount of time. I mean, you should always call or text first. And never ring the doorbell. Always knock in case they’re sleeping.”
He’d called in the woman’s Pathfinder to have it towed to the hospital for her once the ambulance finally arrived, so he did have her plates and found out her name was Lauren Cameron Green. He’d also gotten her phone number but felt weird calling her. What would he say? “Hey, it’s Isaac, you know, the cop who was there when you had your baby. You named that baby after me. Can I come by and see how you are?” It sounded so lame and cheesy in his head.
“You like her?” Sid asked with a crooked smile.
He shook his head. “It’s not that. It’s just I don’t want her to think I’m some weirdo with a single-mom fetish or something. I just want to see how she and the kid are.”
“Do you know where she lives?”
He nodded.
“Hey, Isaac, this just came for you in the mail.” A civilian worker in the reception area passed a small envelope beneath the Plexiglas.
The return address was in the top left corner for a Lauren C. Green.
He opened the envelope. It was a thank-you card and a small note.
Officer Isaac (because I don’t know your full name or your rank—sorry if I’m offending you with the title “officer”).
He chuckled. He’d actually made sergeant a couple of years ago, but he wasn’t going to hold that against her. He continued to read the letter.
I feel like “thank you” is an inadequate thing to say to someone who saved me and my son. Who helped me when I was as helpless as I’ve ever felt and supported me when I needed it the absolute most. Without you, my son might not be here. So “thank you” seems insufficient compared to how I truly feel. But know that if there was a word that meant more, I would use it. I would scream it from the rooftops. You went above and beyond for us. My gratitude and appreciation will be forever endless and—oh shit, I’m crying as I write this, please ignore the teardrop stains, I’m crying a lot lately—anyway, thank you again. My son and I are happy, healthy and safe at home because of you.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.
Sincerely,
Lauren and Ike
“She named her baby Ike? As in Isaac?” Sid asked, having read the note over his shoulder. “Like after you?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Blew me away too.”
Sid smiled. “I like her. She seems funny. But also kind.” She glanced up at him. “You going to take a baby gift?”
He’d planned on it. He just had no idea what the fuck to buy. And seeing as it was late on Christmas Eve, he’d left it until the last minute, and a lot of places would be either closed or packed.
“I want to.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Any ideas?”
She nodded, causing her dark brown ponytail to swish behind her. “Get her a sleeper for when he’s twelve months. Then a toy for when he’s six months. Something the baby can chew on when he starts to teethe. And a book. You can’t go wrong with those items. And get something for her too. Wine. Flowers. Chocolate. One of those meal plans that comes to your door or a gift certificate for takeout.”
All really good ideas. He’d seen a really cool-looking pair of baby sunglasses online—Babiators, they were called—but he wasn’t sure if they were a gag thing or the real deal, so he hadn’t bothered. Did babies wear sunglasses?
“One thing that bothered my sister after she had her first was that once the baby is out of you, nobody gives a flying fuck about the mother. People flock to see the baby, bring gifts for the baby, meanwhile the mom is an emotional, physical and mental mess who could use some attention too.” Sid pinned a dark brown gaze on him. “Don’t be one of those people. You supported her when she gave birth. Support her again.”
He tossed his hands in the air. “I don’t even know her. We’re not friends or family. I just happened to be stuck beside her on the interstate in the middle of a gridlock.”
Her gaze turned skeptical and almost impatient. “Yeah, but you shared something really special with her. She had no one, and you became someone. To her, that means something. She went so far as to send you a thank-you letter. You don’t have to offer to be the kid’s godfather, but be the Isaac we know and love and show her that you care.” She rested a friendly hand on his shoulder, squeezed and then shrugged. “Besides, it’s Christmas.”
“It’s Christmas,” he murmured.
Sid released his arm, and her lips pursed in thought. “Mel’s sister-in-law owns that baby boutique on Fifth, next door to Flowers on 5th. I’ll text Evangeline to see if she’s still open and ask if the flower shop is open. It’s only five minutes from here, and she’ll be able to help you pick out the perfect gift.” She brought out her phone and punched in a message. Seconds later, it vibrated. “She says she’s open for another hour, and the flower shop is open for another half an hour. You can make it.”