Opal throws herselfat Callie’s knees the second she’s through the front door. She’s the spitting image of Jane, with her sun-streaked blond hair, gray-blue eyes, blond eyelashes.
“Hello, love bug,” Callie says, running a hand over Opal’s head. Her fingers catch on a sticky patch of hair. Callie pulls back, her heartbeat in her ears.
Opal cackles, mouth open wide to reveal tiny pearls of baby teeth. “Daddy let me help make a cake!”
Callie relaxes. Cake batter. Just chocolate. But the Baby Doe case has her mind canted toward the ugly and brutal. Those pictures. The blue-tinged skin. The small curled fist.
Jane is on the sofa, raises a hand in greeting. Callie still isn’t used to the dark circles under her eyes. Jane says she can’t sleep more than a few hours at a time because of the pain in her legs and hips. She doesn’t want to take more meds, though, because of the way they make her feel like she’s under water; says she doesn’t want to be too drugged out to play with her kid.
“That sounds delicious. What do you say we give you a bath though, get that mess out of your hair?”
Thank you, Jane mouths from across the room, sweeps her hand at the mess of the living room, rolls her eyes at Damien’s back as he loads the washing machine.
Opal races to the foot of the stairs. “Let’s go, Auntie Cal. I have new bath toys!” Callie follows, has to step over splotches of spilled batter that have somehow strayed from the kitchen and into the hall.
There’s a rush of water through the pipes as Damien punches the start button on the laundry, then a grinding noise from somewhere deep within the belly of the machine.
“We’ve got to get that looked at, Damien,” Jane says.
Damien doesn’t answer, but Callie catches him grimace before he turns to greet her, forcing a smile. “Chief Hauser, good to see you, as ever.”
“Hey. None of that Chief Hauser shit.” The irony isn’t wasted on Callie. That the only people who use her title are the ones she wants to be familiar with her.
“What’s shit mean?” Opal asks.
“Stuff! I meant to say stuff. No Chief Hauser stuff, please.” Callie feels her face getting hot. Damien laughs, to her relief.
Opal pulls at the hem of Callie’s T-shirt. “You said a bad word!”
“Mom and Dad will be over for dinner tonight too.”
“Great.”
“Dad mentioned that the guys have been giving you a hard time.”
Callie hadn’t said anything to Frank about it but clearly she didn’t have to. “It’s nothing. Cops are always giving each other shit. Stuff!”
“Shit shit shit,” Opal says, skipping around the coffee table.
Callie winces. “I’m sorry. I’ve been here for less than five minutes and I’ve already corrupted your daughter.”
“Eh. She’s heard a few choice words over the past few weeks.” Damien lays a hand on her shoulder. “Everyone always asks me why I didn’t follow in my dad’s footsteps. Those guys are assholes is why. They’ll back off.”
“Not all of them are bad.” She hasn’t wanted Jane to know about her issues with the guys, knows it would make her feel guilty. But she also means it. There are eight guys on the squad and only three of them are giving her any real hassle.
Opal puts herself between Damien and Callie, pulls on Callie’s arm with her sticky hand. “Come on, Auntie Cal. Let’s go!”
Upstairs in thebathtub Callie floats yellow plastic boats on the surface of the water, uses foam letters to spell outAUNTandCATandDOGagainst the green tile.
“Mommy is going to get better one day.”
“She’s already much better, isn’t she? She’s really strong. You should be proud of her. She’s working so hard to get better for you.”
“She still has to use a chair in the shower.”
“That’s true. But she won’t need it forever.”
Don’t look, Jane had said about her scars the last time Callie helped wash her hair. Callie had been tempted to tell her that the injuries didn’t unnerve her, but Jane’s voice had sounded so uncharacteristically small that Callie had only said okay.
