10-80: Line of Duty Series (13 page)

“Sal is okay. He was outside for most of the night. The other guy, I believe is okay. He was shot in the stomach and he lost a lot of blood, but he’s in another area and has some officers, guarding him.”

“Okay. Okay.” I tried to remember what I walked in on.

I needed to talk to Sal about everything. It didn’t seem random.

T
he next two hours
, I filled out paperwork and selected a nurse. Well, D’asia picked the nurse because the one I chose was too sexy and would make me lose my concentration. Well, according to D’asia. She didn’t leave me for the rest of the day and even Zee came to see me. Sal had not come in to see me, but it was reported he was at the hospital and wanted to make sure that I was alright. My old group of officers came to visit along with my new crew of detectives.

My mother came through, but not to my room. I was sure she was trying to make an appearance for show because she knew damn well not to bring her ass in my room. My uncles stopped by and I would not even listen to talk of my mom. Apparently, they muttered their ‘
he’s just like his father’
comment and left it alone. D’asia had stepped out to sort some business, but she stayed until visiting hours were over.

The doctor finally cleared me to leave Sunday afternoon. My nurse, physical therapist and designated person to watch over me were all set in place. That person was D’asia, even though I told her I could handle a round-the-clock nurse, she insisted that she and Zee could maintain the evenings, but if the nurse handled mornings and afternoons, that would be best.

There was no arguing with the woman, she was just as stubborn as I was. More importantly, I did not want to argue with her. Being in her presence, touching her and having her in my home had been my silent prayer over the past six months. She had made it clear, we were friends helping each other out, but I’d even take that from her.

I’d take anything from her.

I
thought
a call stating that my mother was no longer on this earth would be the thing that had me sliding down a wall. Yes, she was no longer my mom and the substance controlled her, but she was still my mother and I loved her. I just had to love her from a distance until she got her life together.

However, the call that had me sliding down to the floor was hearing that Ryan was shot and he was in critical condition. To top that, of all the people that could have delivered the news, it was Officer Paula Sanchez.

Bitch.

After she had given me the information, I raced to Harlem’s Hospital Center to find that he was still out. The doctor was updating his mom, who seemed distraught, despite her cold façade.

I was called on Saturday, but Ryan was shot on Friday and the only reason I was called was because the doctor said that Ryan kept murmuring, “Daja”. Once his mom heard it, she figured it was me and had her minion call. Then they wanted me to go and talk to him, just to see if he would wake up and then leave. The minion said this and that was when I went off.

The problem was that, we were in his room at the time and we had no idea that he would be getting up. He heard most of our conversation and I’m sure he heard me call both of them bitches. I did not really care, but I was not in the habit of disrespecting people’s folks. However, they were their same snobby selves.

Truthfully, I would have done anything for Ryan. Anything. My chest still ached for him, but I had so many other things to think about, except the hole in my heart. So much so, after our showdown, I took it upon myself to be his caretaker in the evenings. That meant being in close proximity to him for extended periods of time and at night. I’d have to sleep there.

Me and my big mouth.

Little did I know, Ryan no longer lived in his apartment, but he bought a house in Queens. It was absolutely beautiful and huge. A four-bedroom, three full bathroom house with a garage, deck, and a porch. Out of everything, I think the porch was my favorite feature. I used to watch the television show
227
and loved how the neighbors would sit on the porch or in the window and converse. That was a different time, but it looked like they had good times.

Ryan was in a wheelchair and he was not in the best of moods. Which, I could definitely understand because he could not do much of anything without the help of someone. He had to sleep on the first floor, so we converted his office to his temporary living quarters. The hospital provided a bed for him, which he hated, but there wasn’t much that could be done about all of that.

“You don’t have to stay here at night, D’asia.” Ryan was saying as I rolled him to the living room. “I know you have things to take care of.”

“Its fine, Ryan.” I pushed him in front of the television. “It’s settled.”

“I know, but I don’t want to put you out.” He continued, as I turned on the television and sat next to him but on the love seat.

“I said I got this, okay. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have said it.” I exhaled. “If you don’t want me to do this, just say so and I’ll make other arrangements. We’re friends and we’re adults. You need help and you’ve done more than I could ever ask anyone, so it’s the least I can do. Okay?” I changed the channel to
Sports Center
.

“You don’t owe me anything, sweet…” He corrected himself. “I mean D’asia. I don’t want anyone else, I just don’t want to put you out.”

“You’re not putting me out. It’s my pleasure to deal with your moodiness and help you out.”

He smirked, then muttered, “Thanks.”

“Sure.” I curled my feet up on the nice, mahogany leather man couch.

Our routine included the nurse coming at 6:00 AM and leaving at 3:00 PM. She fixed him breakfast, lunch and a snack. Then she would take him to therapy every day. When her shift was done, Zee would take over until six when I arrived. I would cook dinner for all of us, prepare what he needed for the evening and help him in bed. The great thing about Ryan’s new house was that it was not far from a train station, making it easy for us to get there. However, by the end of the week, he was trying to tell me to take and use his car.

“It’ll make me feel better if you are driving,” he said.

“I don’t feel comfortable driving someone else’s car. Plus, I haven’t driven in years. I’m completely out of practice and you have a freaking monster truck.”

“D’asia,” he said as he grabbed my hand, while I was washing the dishes after dinner. “Take the car. It’s not up for discussion. I can’t protect you like this and you’re less likely to be attacked in a car than you are near
The Trap
.”

“I told you we moved.” Zee chimed in.

“What?” Ryan looked at Zee, then to me.

“We moved to the Bronx, near Morris Park.” He continued. “It’s a really nice house and we’re in a residential area.”

Oh shit.

All week, we had not talked much because I did not want to share. I guess I didn’t want my living or employment situation to change anything between us. We were here and we’d stay here. He did not know about my job, promotion, school or anything.

“No, I don’t remember that.” Ryan said with wide eyes.

“Oh, my bad. I must have told my old coach or something.” He popped a grape in his mouth and walked out. “Night guys, I got to study for my Chemistry exam.”

“Night,” I called.

“Night, Zee.” Ryan added.

“Why didn’t you tell me you moved?” Ryan asked me.

I wrung the cloth out and laid it on the faucet handle. Then I went behind him and unlocked his brakes on the wheelchair and moved him out of the kitchen.

“Are you ready for bed or did you want to watch Sports Center?” I asked.

“Answer me,” he commanded.

I sighed and moved him towards his room.

“When?” he asked.

“A few months ago.” I said, noting it was nine-thirty at night.

“Why?” He asked simply.

Once I stopped him, so we could start our routine, he switched the style up and pulled me to him, so I had no choice but to sit on his lap.

“Ryan,” I yelped as I landed sideways in his chair.

“Answer me.” He rubbed my arms, causing the hair to stand to attention all over my body.

“It’s no big thing, Ryan. It just did not come up in conversation.”

“The fuck it didn’t. You saw that I moved, that was the first time you could have said, oh I moved too. No, it’s been a whole damn week and I’m just hearing about it in passing.” He opened my hand and begin to rub my fingers. “Now what else has happened, that you aren’t telling me? And since you haven’t told me, it means it is something significant.”

“No, Ryan. There is nothing significant. I applied for a rent-to-own program and I was approved. I found a nice place in the Bronx and we moved, which put Zee in another school and away from the gang activity and being recruited. It’s much safer, so I don’t need your car. That’s it.”

“Are you still in school? I’m assuming so because you are always studying while I’m watching TV or reading. So, have you declared a major yet?”

“Yes, criminal law and justice.”

“Good, you’re perfect for that.” He nodded. “Where are you working, now?”

“At Jackson, Parris and Associates,” I answered simply.

His hand loosened as he reared his head back and said, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” I smiled.

“Wow, sweetness. That’s fucking awesome. They are first rate.” He was openly smiling. “What are you doing there?”

I inhaled, and then let it go. He might as well know.

“So, I’m a legal secretary there and while I’m in school, it’s to finish my associates, then get my bachelors next year and Jackson, Parris and Associates has made me an offer to pay for my undergrad and law school, as they want me to be a lawyer at their firm.”

Ryan couldn’t lean his head back any further than it already was, but he simply looked at me and said, “Yes, that’s perfect for you. I told you, fucking first rate and they only select first rate people.”

I tried to turn my head so he would miss me blushing, but he turned me back around and said, “No, sweetness. Take that, you deserve it.”

He pulled me by my chin to him and kissed me lightly on the lips. At first I gasped, and then I closed my lips around his upper one.

God, I missed him.

Missed this.

It felt like a slice of pie and I just wanted to savor it because it would not last.

Fuck.

I pulled away and he quickly said, “I’m sorry. That’s my fault. I got caught up.”

Quickly standing, I walked over to his bed and pulled the covers back. I heard some rustling behind me, so I assumed he was taking off his shirt and pants like he always did. When I turned around, he was still sitting in his chair, but without his shirt.

“You need help with your pants?” I asked.

“No, going to keep them on tonight.”

“Oh okay.”

He pulled up using his arms on the chair, then use my shoulder as leverage to get in the bed. He scooted to the other side and I pulled his legs up on the bed, then covered them.

“Can you check again?”

“Sure.”

I lifted the covers and took the pen in my hair out to slide across his feet to see if there was any more mobility in his toes.

“Try the other foot.” He directed.

I slid the pen across his other one as I was told, but there was no movement.

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing.” I hated to disappoint him.

“It’s cool.” He said. “Thanks for your help, though.”

“Not a problem,” I said as I tucked him in. “Ring the bell if you need to use the bathroom.”

“Always.” He smiled at me.

I turned to leave, when he called my name.

“D’asia.”

“Yeah,” I answered as I turned around to face him.

“Proud of you baby.”

T
he first month
went similar to that first week. The nurse was great as she was attentive to his needs and sensitive to his ego. Physical therapy was okay, but besides his original movement in his toes, I think he was worried like we all were about his progression. He did not seem to mind Zee and I staying there and even insisted on attending Zee’s science fair as we worked almost like a small family of sorts.

Ryan’s mom called at least once a week, but he refused to answer the phone and she even had a few things delivered that he turned away. He was in active mode of cutting her off. I tried to warn him against it, but he told me to stay out of it. His uncles came by regularly and so did Jesse. We were chatting about my career path and the route I was taking and this started a little debate between the three of us.

“If you’re working for Jackson, Parris and Associates, you’ll be a corporate attorney and you won’t be able to help the very people you set out to help,” Jesse argued.

“Not really,” Ryan chimed in. “They do pro bono work and they have other departments that assist the district attorneys.”

“But, I like the work they do.” I interjected. “I’ve been on several cases and I like that too.”

“Right, but in class, you are always talking about your neighborhood and how they don’t have the same opportunities and all that. So, now
you
have an opportunity, and you’re doing what many people do. Leave the place that helped you become the person you’ve become, only to turn around and not even help with the issues that plague your community.”

“Jesse,” Ryan scolded.

I did not have anything to say. He was right and I never even thought about it like that. Jackson, Parris and Associates was started by black partners, but I was not sure what they were doing for the community besides what Ryan had just said.

“No, no.” I patted Ryan on the leg, only for it to jump.

“Whoa,” Jesse pointed. “Do that again, D’asia.”

I patted Ryan’s leg and it jumped again.

“Oh shit,” I said, smiling from ear to ear at him.

He looked a little shaken, but nodded his head and said, “I’ll let the PT know tomorrow.”

“This is awesome,” I exclaimed.

“Yeah.” He put on a fake smile and said, “It’s good.”

From that day forward, Ryan’s progress had sky-rocketed to the point where he was on a cane by the end of the second month. He did not need around-the-clock help, but he kept it just in case, according to him. The nurse was still there during the day and Zee and me at night.

Some of his detective friends and police officers would come over and join us for dinner at least once a week. At first, I was a bit skittish, as I did not know how they would take me or the situation, but everyone was pleasant, nice and I realized it was me who thought I did not belong and not necessarily the other way around.

I felt the same way at work, in my neighborhood and apparently in life. Why couldn’t I partake in a better life? Why was I always waiting for the other shoe to drop? Why did I doubt the good and expect the bad? Why did not I deserve happiness?

Sitting at the table, I observed the laughter, friendship, stories and the camaraderie and almost envied this because I did not have these per se. The closest person to a confidant was Mrs. Henry. I met a few women in my classes, but I didn’t know them like that. There were several women at work that seemed to be cool, but I had been so caught up in my life, Zee and school, I had not made time for things like fun.

Ryan looked at me with raised eyebrows, silently inquiring if I was okay. I nodded and joined in the festivities. The well-deserved laughs that friends shared when they got together. I enjoyed that moment.

After everyone had left, Ryan helped me clear the dirty dishes so we could put them in the dishwasher.

“What was that about?” Ryan asked.

“What?”

“That faraway look you had at the table.” He asked as he got closer.

“Oh, just thinking.” I laughed. “I’m good.”

He pulled me towards him and wrapped his arms around my waist, so his hands were resting on my ass.

“You are good, but something was going beyond those big brown eyes earlier.”

Placing my hands on his chest, I said, “Yeah, I was just thinking about my life and all. Thinking about some of my own internal insecurities. That’s all.”