Avery sat the last of the boxes down on the floor of her daughter's new apartment and felt like crying. The moving truck had pulled away from the curb downstairs five minutes ago and there was no going back now: Rose had an apartment of her own. Avery felt the pit growing in her stomach; this was completely different than her living in a college dorm, where there were friends at every corner and the security of the campus police.
Rose would be living alone now. And Avery still hadn't accepted it. A very short time ago, Rose had been endangered because of Avery's last case-and that was something that Avery still harbored massive guilt over. To have Rose now out on her own after such an ordeal felt irresponsible on Avery's part. It made her feel like a failure as a mother. It also made her very scared for her daughter. And that was saying something, coming from a decorated Homicide detective.
She's eighteen, Avery thought. You can't hold onto her forever, especially when your grip on her was loose, if not non-existent, during her formative years.
How had Rose grown up so fast? How had she become such a beautiful, independent, and driven woman? Avery certainly couldn't take credit for it, as she had been absent for most of Rose's life.
All that aside, it made her feel proud to watch her daughter as she unpacked her own dishes and placed them into her own cupboards. Despite the tumultuous childhood and teen years she had faced, Rose had made it. The future was hers for the taking, and it started with putting her Dollar Store dishes into the cupboards of her first apartment.
"I'm proud of you, kid," Avery said. She made her way through the maze of boxes that occupied the floor of Rose's living room.
"For what?" Rose said.
"Surviving," Avery said with a laugh. "I know I didn't necessarily make it easy on you."
"You didn't. But Dad did okay. And that's not a dig against you."
Avery felt a pang of sorrow.
"I know."
Avery knew that such an admission was hard for Rose. Avery knew that her daughter was still trying to figure out the footing of their relationship. For a typical estranged mother and daughter, reconciliation was hard enough. But they had both been through hell lately. From Rose being stalked by a serial killer and moved to a safe house, to the post-traumatic stress disorder Avery was wrestling with from running to Rose's rescue, there were mountain-sized obstacles to get over. And even something as simple as moving boxes into her daughter's new apartment was a huge step along the way of repairing the relationship Avery so badly wanted with her.
Taking that step required some sort of normalcy-a normalcy that wasn't always available in the world of a work-obsessed detective.
She joined Rose in the kitchen and helped her unpack the boxes labeled KITCHEN. As they worked together to unpack them, Avery felt herself close to tears again.
What the hell? When have I ever gotten this emotional?
"Do you think you'll be okay?" Avery asked, doing what she could to keep conversation going. "This isn't like a college dorm. You're legitimately on your own. Are you ready for that after…well, after everything you've been through?"
"Yes, Mom. I'm not a little girl anymore."
"Well, that's very clear."
"Besides," she said, putting the last dish away and setting the empty box aside. "I'm not exactly alone anymore."
And there it was. Rose had been a little distracted lately but also in a good mood, and a noticeable good mood was a rare occurrence for Rose Black. Avery had thought there might be a boy involved and that opened up a whole different can of worms that Avery wasn't prepared to deal with. She'd missed the period talk with Rose, missed details of her first crush, first dance, and first kiss. Now that she was faced with the potential love life of her eighteen-year-old daughter, she understood just how much she had missed.
"What do you mean?" Avery asked.
Rose bit at her lip, as if she regretted having said anything.
"I…well, I might have met someone."
She said it casually and a bit dismissively, making it clear that she had no interest in talking about it.
"Oh yeah?" Avery asked. "When was this?"
"About a month ago," Rose said.
Exactly the amount of time I've been noticing her better moods, Avery thought. Sometimes it was eerie how her detective skills overlaid her personal life.
"But…he's not living here, is he?" Rose asked.
"No, Mom. But he might be here a lot."
"That's not the sort of thing the mother of an eighteen-year-old wants to hear," Avery said.
"God, Mom. It'll be okay."
Avery knew she should leave it alone. If Rose wanted to talk to her about this guy, she'd do it on her own time. Pressuring her would only make it worse.
But again, her work instinct took over and she couldn't help herself from asking more questions.
"Can I meet him?"
"Um, absolutely not. Not yet, anyway."
Avery sensed the opportunity to go deeper into the conversation-the awkward conversation about protected sex and the risk of diseases and teenage pregnancy. But she almost felt like she didn't have that right, given their strained relationship.
Being a Homicide detective, though, it was impossible not to worry. She knew the caliber of men out there. She had seen not just murders but severe domestic abuse cases. And while this guy in Rose's life might be a perfect gentleman, it was much easier for Rose to assume that he was a threat.
At some point, though, didn't she have to trust her daughter's instincts? Hadn't she just complimented Rose on how well she had turned out despite her upbringing?
"Just be careful," Avery said.
Rose was clearly embarrassed. She rolled her eyes and started unpacking DVDs in the small living room that joined the kitchen.
"What about you?" Rose asked. "Don't you ever get tired of being alone? You know…Dad's still alone, too."
"I'm aware of that," Avery said. "But that's none of my business."
"He's your ex-husband," Rose pointed out. "And he's my father. So yeah, he sort of is your business. It might do you some good to see him."
"That wouldn't be good for either of us," Avery replied. "If you'd ask him, I'm sure he'd tell you the same thing."
Avery knew this was true. While they had never talked about getting back together, there was an unspoken agreement between them-something they'd felt in the air ever since she'd lost her job as an attorney and had basically ruined her life in the weeks that followed. They would tolerate one another for Rose. Although there were mutual feelings of love and respect there, they both knew there would be no getting back together. Jack was only worried about the same thing she was worried about. He wanted Avery spending more time with Rose. And it was up to her to figure out how to do that. She'd spent time coming up with a plan over the last few weeks and although it would require sacrifice on her part, she was ready to try.
Sensing that the touchy topic of Jack was already passing over like a storm cloud, Avery tried broaching the topic of that sacrifice. There was no way to subtly get to it, so she just came out and said it.
"I was thinking about maybe asking for a lighter workload for the next few months. I figured you and I should really give things a real chance."
Rose paused for a minute. She looked taken aback, genuinely surprised. She gave a little nod of acknowledgment and went back to unpacking. She made a little hmmph sound.
"What?" Avery asked.
"But you love your work."
"I do," Avery agreed. "But I've been thinking of transferring out of Homicide. If I did that, my schedule would be freed up a bit."
Rose now stopped unpacking completely. A range of expressions crossed her face in the space of a second. Avery was pleased to see that one looked very much like hope.
"Mom, you don't have to do that." Her voice was soft and unguarded, almost like the little girl Avery could easily remember. "That's like uprooting your life."
"No it's not. I'm getting older and realizing that I missed out on a lot of family stuff. It's what I need to do to move on…to get better."
Rose sat down on the couch, littered with boxes and stray clothes. She looked up to Avery, that gleam of hope still on her face.
"Are you sure that's what you want?" she asked.
"I don't know. Maybe."
"Also," Rose said, "I see where I get my awesome ability to swerve subjects. You hopped off of being alone all the time pretty quickly."
"You noticed that, did you?"
"I did. And to be honest, I think Dad has, too."
"Rose-"
Rose turned to her.
"He misses you, Mom."
Avery slouched. She stood there, quiet for a moment, unable to respond.
"I miss him sometimes, too," Avery admitted. "Just not enough to call him up and dredge up the past."
He misses you, Mom.
Avery let that sink in. She rarely thought of Jack in any real sort of romantic sense. She had told the truth, though: She did miss him. She missed Jack's weird sense of humor, the way his body always seemed just a little too cold in the mornings, how his need for sex was almost comically predictable. More than anything, though, she missed watching him be an excellent father. But that was all gone now, part of a life that Avery was trying very hard to put behind her.
Still, she couldn't help but wonder what might have been, realizing that she'd had the chance for a great life. A life with picket fences, school fundraisers, lazy Sunday afternoons in the backyard.
But the chance for that was gone. Rose had missed out on that perfect picture and Avery still blamed herself.
"Mom?"
"Sorry, Rose. I just don't see your dad and I mending things, you know? Besides," she added, and took a deep breath, bracing herself for Rose's reaction, "maybe you aren't the only one that's met someone."
Rose turned to her, and Avery was relieved to see her smile. She looked to her mother with the sort of devilish grin girlfriends might share over cocktails while talking about men. It warmed Avery's heart in a way she was not prepared for, nor could she explain.
"What?" Rose asked, feigning shock. "You? Details, please."
"There are no details yet."
"Well, who is it?"
Avery chuckled, realizing how silly it would seem. She almost didn't say it. Hell, she had barely even told the guy how she felt. To voice it in front of her daughter would be a bit surreal.
Still, she and Rose were making progress. No sense in stifling it because of her own embarrassment of having feelings for a man that was not Rose's father.
"It's a man I work with. Ramirez."
"Have you guys hooked up?"
"Rose!"
Rose shrugged. "Hey…you wanted an open and honest relationship with your daughter, right?"
"Yes, I suppose I do," she said with a smile. "And no…we have not hooked up. But I'm sort of falling for him. He's nice. Funny, sexy, and has this sort of charm to him that used to annoy me but now…it's sort of appealing."
"Does he feel the same?" Rose asked.
"He does. Or…he did. I think I blew it. He's been patient but I think his patience ran out." What she kept to herself was that she had made the decision to tell Ramirez how she felt but had not yet summoned up the nerve to do so.
"Did you push him away?" Rose asked.
Avery smiled.
"Damn, you're observant."
"I'm telling you…it's genetics."
Rose grinned again, seeming to have forgotten about unpacking for the moment.
"Go for it, Mom!"
"Oh my God."
Rose laughed and Avery soon joined in. It was easily the most vulnerable they had been with one another since they had started working toward repairing their relationship. Suddenly, the idea of taking a step back from Homicide and taking some time off from work seemed like a necessity rather than just a hopeful idea.
"Are you doing anything this weekend?" Avery asked.
"Unpacking. Maybe a date with Ma-the guy who shall remain nameless for now."
"How about a girls' day with your mom tomorrow? Lunch, a movie, pedicures."
Rose wrinkled her nose at the idea but then seemed to seriously consider it. "Do I get to choose the movie?"
"If you must."
"Sounds like fun," Rose said with an edge of excitement. "Count me in."
"Great," Avery said. She then felt a prompting-a need to ask something that felt weird but something that would be pivotal to their relationship going forward. Knowing what she about to ask her daughter was humbling but also, in a very strange way, freeing.
"So you'd be okay with me moving on?" Avery asked.
"What do you mean?" Rose asked. "From Dad?"
"Yes. From your dad and that whole part of my life-the part of my life that made things rough for all of us. A big part of me moving on from that is not being chained by the guilt of what might have been. And I have to move away from your dad for that. I'll always love him and respect him for raising you while I wasn't there but he's a big part of the life that I need to get away from. Do you get that?"
"I do," Rose said. Her voice had gone soft and vulnerable again. Hearing it made Avery want to go over to the couch and hug her. "And you don't need my permission, Mom," Rose continued. "I know you're trying. I can see it. I really can."
For the third time in fifteen minutes, Avery felt herself inching toward tears. She sighed, and pushed the urge to cry away.
"How'd you turn out to be so good?" Avery asked.
"Genetics," Rose said. "You might have made some mistakes, Mom. But you've always been kind of a badass."
Before Avery had time to even form a response, Rose stepped forward and hugged her. It was a genuine embrace-something she had not felt from her daughter in quite a while.
This time, Avery let the tears come.
She could not remember the last time she had been quite this happy. For the first time in a very long time, she felt as if she were truly taking steps to escaping the mistakes of her past.
A big part of that would be talking to Ramirez and letting him know that she was done with hiding what had been growing between them. She wanted to be with him-whatever that looked like. Suddenly, with her daughter's arms around her, Avery could not wait to have that discussion with him.
In fact, she hoped it went far beyond a discussion. She hoped they'd end up doing much more than simply talking, finally letting the tension that had been building between them have its way.
