Cry From The Grave
Chapter 5
Saturday morning began with significant cloud cover and a threat of rain, but by nine o'clock a stiff wind had blown the gray stormheads onwards toward Illinois. Ballack had fixed his breakfast, securing a hard-boiled egg from the refrigerator, placing a slice of French bread on his plate as well, and then wrenching a banana from the bunch on the kitchen counter. He fit all his food on the plate and whisked himself outdoors onto the deck. Placing his breakfast on the patio table, he zoomed back inside to get a glass of water. Although walking on his own had not been an option for some time, and even though he still lived in his parents' residence, he still valued whatever scraps of independence he could garner. Making breakfast was one such sliver of this liberty. He finished getting his drink from the filtered tap at the sink as Karen Calabria, one of the nurses who attended to him, called up that she was still getting his laundry gathered up. As he headed toward the door, he snagged an enclosed envelope from the counter and placed it in his stack of stuff for the day. He had just returned to the patio table outside when his cell phone jarred his attention and he answered it after four rings.
"So I see you can't stand down even when you've had a late start," he began.
"That's a backhanded way of saying hello," Tori Vaughan huffed on the other end of the line. "I guess your parents already headed out."
"Dad is on call this weekend, so he should be getting to St. Luke's in a couple of shakes. Mom went to church to help with re-painting the nursery and preschool classrooms, so I get a quiet morning of 'me-time'. Karen's doing some laundry downstairs."
"I thought she was scheduled for nights."
"She is. She's just staying over, as we adjusted her schedule to fit mine today. She just finished my nebulizer treatment and now I'm ready to do some Sudoku, a little reading, and catching some autumn rays. What's up? You never call me in the morning unless you're on the way over, and given that I hear no background noise of the Sprinter, I gather you are nowhere near."
"What are you reading? More of that Icelandic guy?"
"Not today. It's Margaret Thatcher: The Downing Street Years," replied Ballack. "Quit jerking me around. What's up?"
Tori sighed into the mouthpiece. "I just haven't come to grips with Janie's situation. I can't imagine what that has to be like. I know what your parents did for you is admirable, but..." She trailed off.
"I know," Ballack responded, somewhat gently. "There has already been a chance I could die at any point from what I have. With Jennifer, it's a given."
Tori said nothing. Ballack's sixth sense told him she was close to tears.
"Listen, Tor," he continued. "I think we have to put this in the context of what Janie wants. She chose to do this for however long she has Jennifer alive. And I spoke to Roger last night when I got home. He got promoted at the bank, so even with some budget trimming, they're not going to go hungry or lose their home. And whenever Jennifer dies, Janie is not only welcome back on the force, but I'd imagine she'd run back to us. I would imagine she'd do that for a sense of life structure if nothing else."
"I know," said Tori, "but it's just that I keep thinking about Paula."
"Tori, you didn't lose her."
"I have a lot of guilt over what's happened, and yesterday made it a lot worse. Janie's going to be there for her daughter in a way I haven't been for mine. She's fifteen and pregnant. She's due in early December, for heaven's sake. I can't help but think that if I'd been a better mom..."
"Oh, you are so full of crap," Ballack sighed, rolling his eyes. Just last April, his partner discovered her high school freshman daughter was pregnant. Tori's road of remorse had grown more choppy since the summer ended. Perhaps it had to do with the beginning of a school year that would be interrupted by an unintended birth. "Paula's pregnant because that's the way the reproductive system works," he sighed. "It happened. Thousands of kids all over America are huddling in basements or cars or who knows where and getting it on because they're sexual arsonists and refuse to put out their own fires. Paula got pregnant because it just happened. It has nothing to do with you, so stop acting like it does. How are her appointments coming along?"
"Good enough. She's huge."
"And she still doesn't want to know the sex of the baby?"
"She wants to be flying blind right up until the delivery. I think it's because she doesn't want a boy because it might remind her of Will."
Ballack remained silent. He hoped that was the end of that subject. He gritted his teeth when he heard the next thing out of Tori's mouth.
"I need to take time off."
"What? Now?" Ballack loathed most surprises, and this one was more than he could take. "Get this guilt out of your head right now, Tori! I just said..."
"I'm not talking about that. I mean when the baby comes, when Paula delivers. It's not like my family is all that helpful, or Eddie is that reliable."
"Eddie might surprise you in a situation like this," said Ballack, trying to get her off the phone so he could eat his breakfast in peace.
"Maybe. I'm sorry. I just haven't been able to get Janie's situation out of my mind."
"It's your Catholic schoolgirl guilt coming out, Tori. You chase too many rats inside your skull and you connect the dots of blame back to yourself. You can't change the fact your daughter is pregnant. Make the days ahead of you count." He took a bite of his egg, blanching at how it was less cold than before. "I think we need another SID case to put this misery aside."
"Why did you say that?" asked Tori.
"Just a feeling I have," sniffed Ballack.
"The armies of Satan tremble when you get those feelings, partner," said Tori. "Although another case could be just what I need." It was her turn to pressure her co-worker. "By the way, don't tell me you never have a few looks back about your ex and wonder what if."
Ballack stopped himself from telling her off, but the raw memory penetrated his psyche before he could close that gate. It had been six months since he and Dana Witten had parted ways. In his estimation, he had listened kindly to the sadness of her own history. His heart still ached that she believed her past disqualified them from a conceivable future. His reply had been less than fully charitable, and now they were independently navigating the oceans of distance. While he had plowed ahead, determined to keep his focus, he admitted to himself that there was considerably less light on his path since their breakup. He believed, though, that he couldn't allow himself to slip professionally. Besides, he had made proactive demands on Dana she wasn't willing to meet. Tori, on the other hand, had her daughter's pregnancy thrust upon her.
"Fine, I won't lie to you," he grumbled, "because it's hard to wake up and realize all that water under the proverbial bridge. But it did happen. And the difficult thing was realizing it was out of my control, convincing her it was worth sticking out."
"If I remember, sport, you were the one who threw down a gauntlet of some kind."
"Because if she can't believe me, why would anything work with me? Come on, Tor. I have the energy to chase down a lot of things. But the one thing I won't do is keep trying to convince someone the past is truly the past when they project it into the present."
He paused for effect, then continued. "None of that has anything to do with the here and now, Tori. What happened to Paula happened. You can believe it's sheer Darwinian chance or you can trust it occurred for a reason beyond what we can presently imagine. But it's no reflection on you. And whether we have Janie on the force or not, we still have work to do."
"Whenever we get a case."
Ballack sighed. They were running around in circles. He wasn't up for this verbal journey on this morning and a chilly wind had just rippled over the deck.
"Just come on over, Tori, and let's go into the office. Maybe your guilt will dissipate," he finally charged her. "You're no good to me otherwise." He said goodbye and snatched his plate from the patio table, turned into the house, an environment more certain to warm his bones.
Tori said nothing. Ballack's sixth sense told him she was close to tears.
"Listen, Tor," he continued. "I think we have to put this in the context of what Janie wants. She chose to do this for however long she has Jennifer alive. And I spoke to Roger last night when I got home. He got promoted at the bank, so even with some budget trimming, they're not going to go hungry or lose their home. And whenever Jennifer dies, Janie is not only welcome back on the force, but I'd imagine she'd run back to us. I would imagine she'd do that for a sense of life structure if nothing else."
"I know," said Tori, "but it's just that I keep thinking about Paula."
"Tori, you didn't lose her."
"I have a lot of guilt over what's happened, and yesterday made it a lot worse. Janie's going to be there for her daughter in a way I haven't been for mine. She's fifteen and pregnant. She's due in early December, for heaven's sake. I can't help but think that if I'd been a better mom..."
"Oh, you are so full of crap," Ballack sighed, rolling his eyes. Just last April, his partner discovered her high school freshman daughter was pregnant. Tori's road of remorse had grown more choppy since the summer ended. Perhaps it had to do with the beginning of a school year that would be interrupted by an unintended birth. "Paula's pregnant because that's the way the reproductive system works," he sighed. "It happened. Thousands of kids all over America are huddling in basements or cars or who knows where and getting it on because they're sexual arsonists and refuse to put out their own fires. Paula got pregnant because it just happened. It has nothing to do with you, so stop acting like it does. How are her appointments coming along?"
"Good enough. She's huge."
"And she still doesn't want to know the sex of the baby?"
"She wants to be flying blind right up until the delivery. I think it's because she doesn't want a boy because it might remind her of Will."
Ballack remained silent. He hoped that was the end of that subject. He gritted his teeth when he heard the next thing out of Tori's mouth.
"I need to take time off."
"What? Now?" Ballack loathed most surprises, and this one was more than he could take. "Get this guilt out of your head right now, Tori! I just said..."
"I'm not talking about that. I mean when the baby comes, when Paula delivers. It's not like my family is all that helpful, or Eddie is that reliable."
"Eddie might surprise you in a situation like this," said Ballack, trying to get her off the phone so he could eat his breakfast in peace.
"Maybe. I'm sorry. I just haven't been able to get Janie's situation out of my mind."
"It's your Catholic schoolgirl guilt coming out, Tori. You chase too many rats inside your skull and you connect the dots of blame back to yourself. You can't change the fact your daughter is pregnant. Make the days ahead of you count." He took a bite of his egg, blanching at how it was less cold than before. "I think we need another SID case to put this misery aside."
"Why did you say that?" asked Tori.
"Just a feeling I have," sniffed Ballack.
"The armies of Satan tremble when you get those feelings, partner," said Tori. "Although another case could be just what I need." It was her turn to pressure her co-worker. "By the way, don't tell me you never have a few looks back about your ex and wonder what if."
Ballack stopped himself from telling her off, but the raw memory penetrated his psyche before he could close that gate. It had been six months since he and Dana Witten had parted ways. In his estimation, he had listened kindly to the sadness of her own history. His heart still ached that she believed her past disqualified them from a conceivable future. His reply had been less than fully charitable, and now they were independently navigating the oceans of distance. While he had plowed ahead, determined to keep his focus, he admitted to himself that there was considerably less light on his path since their breakup. He believed, though, that he couldn't allow himself to slip professionally. Besides, he had made proactive demands on Dana she wasn't willing to meet. Tori, on the other hand, had her daughter's pregnancy thrust upon her.
"Fine, I won't lie to you," he grumbled, "because it's hard to wake up and realize all that water under the proverbial bridge. But it did happen. And the difficult thing was realizing it was out of my control, convincing her it was worth sticking out."
"If I remember, sport, you were the one who threw down a gauntlet of some kind."
"Because if she can't believe me, why would anything work with me? Come on, Tor. I have the energy to chase down a lot of things. But the one thing I won't do is keep trying to convince someone the past is truly the past when they project it into the present."
He paused for effect, then continued. "None of that has anything to do with the here and now, Tori. What happened to Paula happened. You can believe it's sheer Darwinian chance or you can trust it occurred for a reason beyond what we can presently imagine. But it's no reflection on you. And whether we have Janie on the force or not, we still have work to do."
"Whenever we get a case."
Ballack sighed. They were running around in circles. He wasn't up for this verbal journey on this morning and a chilly wind had just rippled over the deck.
"Just come on over, Tori, and let's go into the office. Maybe your guilt will dissipate," he finally charged her. "You're no good to me otherwise." He said goodbye and snatched his plate from the patio table, turned into the house, an environment more certain to warm his bones.
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