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    The Sergeant's Daughter, a Story of Everlasting Love
    The Sergeant's Daughter, a Story of Everlasting Love
    The Sergeant's Daughter, a Story of Everlasting Love
    Ebook442 pages7 hours

    The Sergeant's Daughter, a Story of Everlasting Love

    By B.L Wilson

    4.5/5

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    About this ebook

    Over eleven years ago, Sergeant Grace Warren fell in love with Patrolman Denise Carver. She thought their love was forever. When Grace returned home early one afternoon, she found Denise sharing her love and her body with two other women in their bed. That night, Grace kicked Denise out of her bed and out of her life forever.

    Flash forward nearly eleven years later. Sergeant Denise Carver receives an urgent call to see Grace in ICU. A lieutenant now, Grace has been badly wounded.

    While visiting Grace in ICU, Denise meets the child Grace named after her for the first time. Grace asks Denise to protect and care for the child she never knew.

    Will Grace be able to trust Denise with the one thing most precious to her? Will Denise be able to show Grace that she is a changed woman? Will these two women come together again after all these years, bonded by their love for The Sergeant’s Daughter?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherB.L Wilson
    Release dateOct 2, 2018
    ISBN9780463200056
    The Sergeant's Daughter, a Story of Everlasting Love
    Author

    B.L Wilson

    B.L. has always been in love with books and the words in them. She never thought she could create something with the words she knew. When she read ‘To Kill A Mocking Bird,’ she realized everyday experiences could be written about in a powerful, memorable way. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with that knowledge so she kept on reading.Walter Mosley’s short stories about Easy Rawlins and his friends encouraged BL to start writing in earnest. She felt she had a story to tell...maybe several of them. She’d always kept a diary of some sort, scraps of paper, pocketsize, notepads, blank backs of agency forms, or in the margins of books. It was her habit to make these little notes to herself. She thought someday she’d make them into a book.She wrote a workplace memoir based on the people she met during her 20 years as a property manager of city-owned buildings. Writing the memoir, led her to consider writing books that were not job-related. Once again, she did...producing romance novels with African American lesbians as main characters. She wrote the novels because she couldn’t find stories that matched who she wanted to read about ...over forty, African American and female.

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    • 4/5
      The book was good, a little long. Wish it would have focused more on the romance aspect instead of the hospital scenes and discussing the assault. Dee and Gracie should have had a real conversation about what happened all those years ago. I don't feel like Dee truly apologized for what she did years ago, the apology she gave in some scenes were brief and rushed. I would like to see a continuation of their story.

      2 people found this helpful

    Book preview

    The Sergeant's Daughter, a Story of Everlasting Love - B.L Wilson

    Chapter One: Day after the assault

    Good morning, Sergeant Carver, a patrolman standing casually on the front stoop leading to the precinct entrance remarked as he watched the brown-skinned Black woman stride up the sidewalk. His partner stopped speaking to a group of fellow officers and turned around to acknowledge the boss from her position on the sidewalk.

    Sergeant Denise Carver nodded to both groups of officers and then grinned at them. Her eyes twinkled as she asked the question that was becoming her trademark. Good morning, people. Are you ready for another day of uncertainty and excitement?

    The officers responded with good-natured groans and eye rolls.

    One officer, the patrolman standing on the stoop, added, Yeah, sure, Sarge. That’s what we live for, another day of uncertainty and excitement here in Gotham City.

    Denise cleared her throat, drawing his attention, and then looked at him for a moment. She rubbed her chin. Her little nephew always had something wise-ass to say He usually chose to say it in front of an audience. She wondered if she was crazy for requesting his first assignment be here, where she could keep an eye on him. As for the little part, that was a laugh. She was nearly six feet tall. His smart mouth was at her eye level, so that made him inches taller than she was. It seems to me, Patrolman Hawkins, you asked for two weeks’ vacation to start at sixteen hundred on Friday, right?

    Patrolman Charles Hawkins stepped away from the doorway, straightened his shoulders, and stood at attention. Damn, he wanted that vacation and his aunt knew it. His father, his aunt’s brother, had been bugging him to come home for a visit. Yes, Ma’am, I mean, yes, Sergeant Carver, I did put in a request. It hasn’t been approved yet, has it?

    Denise grinned evilly. That’s right, Patrolman Hawkins. It hasn’t. I’m still thinking about it.

    Oh. Patrolman Hawkins let concern enter his voice and faux sadness show in his eyes. Unfortunately, his aunt looked unmoved. He sighed, then rubbed his chin. See you inside, Sergeant Carver.

    Yes, you will at roll call. Sergeant Denise Carver studied him from the sidewalk and frowned. What? Nothing to say, Patrolman Hawkins? Now I am surprised.

    No, Ma’am. I’m learning when to keep my mouth shut.

    Ah, I always knew you were smart. Denise grinned at him and then eyed each officer in the small group. See you all in the house for roll call in ten minutes, people. Don’t be late.

    Patrolman Hawkins opened the precinct door for his sergeant, keeping his voice low so only she could hear him as he leaned down slightly. Aunt Dee, I need to speak with you about something really quick.

    Denise looked up into dark eyes much like her own and cleared her throat. Ahem, Hawkins, I thought we agreed. Around here, it’s Sarge or Sergeant Carver. She noted the seriousness in her nephew’s eyes and grew alarmed. Her brother, Charles Carver-Hawkins Senior, was a sheriff in Ohio. Lately, his town had had an influx of gangs. Gang leaders from LA, Chicago, Newark, and New York had discovered her brother’s little burg and were trying to set up shop there. In several of their many discussions, he’d been trying to convince her to move to Ohio and help him combat them. She’d always said no. Living in Ohio just didn’t have the appeal the city did. Charlie is okay, isn’t he, CJ?

    More officers walked by the two police officers to report in for the morning shift. Patrolman Hawkins pulled his aunt out of the way before the huge castle-like brass front doors whacked her in the back. Sarge, could we talk in the conference room or something?

    Answer my question first, CJ. Is my brother okay?

    Christ, Aunt Denise! Would I be standing here if he wasn’t okay? No, I’d be on the first plane to Ohio and you know it, Patrolman Hawkins replied impatiently, lifting his hat to rub his closely cropped hair.

    Denise rolled her eyes and groaned. God, you’re always with the wise-guy attitude, CJ! One of these days, I swear that mouth will get you in some serious shit even I can’t get you out of.

    Patrolman Hawkins managed to look contrite, then he grinned at his aunt. I’m sorry how that came out, Aunt Denise. His mood turned serious again. You need to know this before you hear it from the rumor mill. He rubbed his chin as he studied his aunt’s puzzled face, then cleared his throat. I know you haven’t seen her in years. I thought you’d want to know. Lieutenant Grace Warren was shot last night in an attempted robbery at her apartment. She and her kid were out celebrating a birthday. I don’t know if it was hers or the kid’s. Anyway, they busted in on would-be thieves. She took two shots to the back and chest.

    Denise’s eyes widened. Her body swayed. She reached out to grab her nephew’s sturdy forearm for balance. Her eyes watered before she had a chance to wipe them, which she did quickly. She looked up at her nephew, then her lips moved in a silent prayer that the lieutenant, the woman she loved once upon time, wasn’t dead. Oh God, CJ, is she dead? Did they kill her?

    Patrolman Hawkins rubbed the fingers painfully digging into his forearm. No, not yet, but it’s been touch and go all night.

    Why didn’t anyone call me … last night? Denise shrugged and dropped her hands. She rubbed her temples. Don’t answer that one, CJ. Nobody thought I’d give a shit, considering how we broke up, right?

    Patrolman Hawkins issued a shrug that matched his aunt’s. Yeah, that’s what they thought. Are you gonna go see her?

    Denise exhaled deeply. I suppose I should do that, huh? She frowned. God, I hate hospitals. I’ve never had good luck in them. She caught her nephew’s eye. We’ve never had good luck in that department, have we?

    Patrolman Hawkins nodded as he remembered his mother’s death in one. Shortly after that, his grandfather was badly wounded preventing a grocery store robbery here in the city. He died two months later, never regaining consciousness. His grandmother’s death soon followed. No, we haven’t had much luck there. He squeezed his aunt’s arm. Let me know if you want some company. He read the anxiety in her eyes. I meant, if you decided to go, Aunt Denise.

    Denise nodded, straightened her shoulders, and adjusted the navy sergeant’s blouse she wore, pulling at the front of it. She sighed. Suddenly, I don’t feel the excitement today; just the uncertainty … a boatload of it, CJ.

    Patrolman Hawkins nodded as he studied his aunt. He’d never seen her acting this uneasy before and he didn’t like it. Yeah, I know. He glanced at his watch. We better get inside. You and Sergeant Rivera have schedules to go over. I’ve got to get ready for roll call, Sarge.

    Yeah, CJ, I know. Thanks for telling me about the lieutenant. Denise sighed as she walked into the house in deep thought. She missed the nods from the patrol and the detective squad as she made her way to her post at the front desk. She wondered how she’d make it through the day without thinking about Grace Warren. God, it had been eleven years since they’d lived together. Eleven years since Gracie had kicked her out for being unfaithful. She frowned. Should she even risk seeing the woman she couldn’t get out of her mind? She didn’t have to decide what to do until quitting time, did she? That was hours away, right?

    Want me to wait around and give you a lift home, Aunt Denise? Patrolman CJ Hawkins asked as she stepped out of the car onto the curb in front of the hospital. He watched her stuff a hand into the pocket of her navy uniform slacks while the other grasped her briefcase. When Denise leaned into the window on the passenger side, he noticed the sadness in her eyes and the slump in her shoulders.

    Thanks for the ride, CJ. I’ll call you if I need one. Denise sighed as she studied her nephew’s face. I left some food in the refrigerator. There’s pot roast and vegetables. You can heat the whole thing up or slice it up and make sandwiches. Soda is in the cupboard. You know where the beer is if you want it.

    Don’t look so sad, Aunt Dee. At least now, Doc Benson is giving her a fifty percent chance of coming through this. I heard last night it was down to thirty. She’s improving.

    Yeah, I know. I called him today and got his assistant. That’s what he said too. See you later, CJ. I’ll try not to disturb you when I come in. Listen, I told Green I might not make roll call tomorrow or the next day. He’s reassigning Manny Rivera’s kid sister to do it.

    CJ frowned. Why are you telling me? I don’t care what Carmen does. Remember, Aunt Dee, we broke up thirteen months ago. She’s too old for me anyway. I like ‘em young and fine.

    Denise smiled. Yeah, sure you do, CJ. Tell that to another aunty who didn’t spend nearly every waking moment for six months listening to you whine about her. That’s when you weren’t busy trying to get busy with any woman who looked twice at you. Be on your best behavior, CJ. I’m not going to be there to pull your ass out of the fire. This is one of those times when Manny, who loves you like a son, probably won’t do it either if you mess with his baby sister.

    Aw, give me a break, Sarge. We are done. It’s over and I don’t want to go backwards. I gotta keep moving forward. Isn’t that what somebody told me to do six months ago?

    Funny how I don’t remember our conversation that way, CJ, but if you say I said it, I probably did. Denise stood up from the car and looked at the early evening sky. It was October, she thought. Pretty soon it was going to be too cold to wear this uniform without a winter coat. Don’t forget to feed Xander for me, CJ. See you when I see you.

    Denise stood on the curb watching him drive away before she turned to walk into the hospital. She rubbed her right temple with one hand. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t delay the inevitable. She needed to finish this one way or the other. Tonight was her opportunity to finally say the apology she’d been rehearsing for the last eleven years. She wondered if Grace was in shape to hear the words from her. She rubbed her chin as she strode into the hospital and found the admissions clerk.

    Once she learned the location was ICU, the clerk hesitated to send her upstairs, saying there was already a line of people waiting outside the unit. She argued with the clerk, claiming to be her sister. The clerk grinned, then waved her on, saying the woman already had twenty to thirty other sisters and brothers waiting outside the surgical ward’s ICU. She took the elevator to the fifth floor. She stepped off but didn’t have to ask for directions to the ICU unit. She simply walked toward the navy wall of uniforms lined up in the corridor or standing in groups near the waiting area or sitting in it.

    Denise nodded to a few familiar faces along the wall. Hey, guys, how are you doing? She smiled when they nodded back. Hey, Sheppard, how the hell are you?

    I haven’t seen you in a long time.

    Yeah, too bad it’s for this, Sarge.

    I agree. Denise nodded and moved on through the crowd of blue and plainclothes officers. Lieutenant Mike Johnson, how are you? It’s been at least nine, maybe ten years, right?

    Hey, Sarge, I’m surprised to see you here. I thought you and Grace... Well, you know what I mean. Never mind. Looks like I put my foot in it again. Mike Johnson stopped speaking when he noticed how Denise had narrowed her eyes. It’s always good to see you again, Denise.

    Yeah, you too, LT, Denise remarked without meaning it. She followed his journey through the crowd with annoyed eyes. She stopped to shake several hands before she smiled broadly at another female officer. Metcalf, how goes it?

    Police Officer Nita Metcalf shook her hand with a proud smile. It’s good, Sarge. I passed the sergeant’s exam. I’m just waiting for the call. I couldn’t have done it without you.

    Denise grinned. Good luck, Nita. I hope you get called soon.

    Nita held Denise’s hand longer than needed for a handshake and looked into her eyes. Sarge, I’m sorry to hear about Grace. I know you and she broke up a while ago, but I’m glad you came here tonight.

    Denise sighed. Thanks, Nita. I wasn’t sure if I belonged here.

    Sarge, right now, she needs all the support and prayers she can get from us. I hope you’ll stay. Nita released her hand. I think I heard the police surgeon was looking for you. He wanted to talk with you about something.

    Got any idea where he might be?

    Nita nodded. She cleared her throat. I hate to be the one to tell you this.

    Denise’s eyes grew large and her briefcase dropped to the floor. She’s not. I mean, she didn’t die, did she, Nita?

    Nita grabbed her arm and squeezed. No, no. Dee, it’s not that. She sighed as she looked around the room full of mostly male cops. Grab your case and follow me. We need to talk for a minute. She led Denise around the corner and away from the loud hum of conversation in the hallway outside the ICU. She checked the various doors along the corridor and found one unlocked. She opened the door and stepped inside the empty room, moving away from the door so Denise could follow her. She locked the door behind them, then leaned against it. She folded her arms. You know she and I had a brief fling after you and she broke up.

    Yeah, I heard about it. Denise set her briefcase on the floor. She imitated Nita’s stance, folding her arms across her chest, then leaned against the wall as she studied Nita. That was a long time ago, Nita. I decided to let bygones be just that. I never held it against you.

    Nita nodded. Yes, I know you didn’t. You’re one of the best trainers I know. You live your code most of the time.

    Denise sighed, then dropped her arms. She rubbed the back of her neck. I finally learned to take my own advice. After fucking up royally with Gracie, I had no choice. She studied Nita’s face. She knew a nervous woman when she saw one. Nita was nervous about something. But what was it? It couldn’t be about Nita’s affair with Gracie. She knew about it and how it ended about ten months later. Why do we need privacy and a locked door tonight? What’s going on, Nita?

    If you go outside and walk beyond where we just left, you’ll see a kid who just celebrated her tenth birthday last night. She’s either asleep on the couch in the waiting room or she’s in Dr. Benson’s office. She won’t leave her mother until she knows she’s okay. Nita paused to study Denise’s face. Benson says you’re still listed as Gracie’s contact person. He tried calling you this morning at the house. He spoke to your nephew instead. Your nephew promised he’d tell you what happened to Gracie.

    Nita looked at Denise and grew thoughtful for a moment. I seem to remember a boy who followed you around the office like a puppy dog. He tried to imitate everything you did except carry a gun and wear a badge. I think he did wear your badge until you caught him and paddled his butt.

    Denise straightened up and jammed her hands into her pockets. She pulled a hand out of her right pocket to run it through short dark dreadlocks as she paced around the room. Jesus, she got pregnant? The damned insemination worked. Gracie got pregnant. She stopped walking and angrily turned around to glare at Nita. Goddamn it! Why didn’t she tell me? She started pacing again and answered her question. Shit, I was a self-centered, egotistical asshole. A freak of the week who wanted to screw as many women as I could get. That’s why she didn’t say anything. Who in her right mind would want her kid to see that shit living in her own home?

    She noticed a chair in the room and sat down looking glum. She held her head in her hands and groaned. When I screw up, I do it so well. She rose and walked over to the window to stare out at the evening darkness. Tell me what she needs, Nita. I’ll do it, whatever it is.

    After you see Gracie, take the kid out of here for a few hours. She needs a break. If she won’t leave, stay with her, Dee. She needs somebody strong like you to help her get through this.

    Denise whirled around and strode over to Nita. You’re kidding, right? What do I know about ten-year-old little girls?

    Nita stared at Denise for a long moment as she thought of an answer. She chuckled at Denise’s question. Well, Sarge, you could just pretend she’s a rookie trainee. I’m sure you’ll whip her little butt into shape in no time.

    Denise groaned, then rubbed her temples. Christ, you just gave me a major headache, Nita Metcalf.

    Nita chuckled, then patted her former sergeant’s shoulder. Take it from me. It gets worse before it gets better. My partner came with a readymade family of twin boys, then we added a girl. Are you ready to meet Grace’s daughter?

    Don’t you think I should see Gracie first?

    Nita nodded. I think she’ll feel better knowing her daughter is with you, Dee. Come on; I’ll introduce you to the kid, then I’ll walk you to ICU.

    Denise picked up her briefcase. I’m right behind you.

    Chapter Two: Visiting Grace’s Room

    The two women walked back to the waiting area and found it nearly empty. Manny Rivera was kneeling next to a sleeping child, covering her with a hospital blanket and his sergeant’s jacket. Standing several feet away, Grace’s captain was speaking to Dr. Lewis Benson, the police surgeon, and another woman whose short, sturdy shape Denise recognized immediately as Grace’s next-door neighbor, Hilda Quintana.

    Dr. Benson’s face broke out into a broad grin as soon as he spotted Denise. He patted the sturdy woman’s shoulder. Hilda Quintana and the captain turned around to see who held the doctor’s attention. They greeted Denise’s arrival very differently. Captain Norton nodded in recognition and smiled at her. She smiled back, remembering him vaguely as Gracie’s former lieutenant when she was still a sergeant. He was okay as far as it went. She remembered wondering back then if he’d ever made a play for Grace at some time during her stint as his sergeant. Gracie never said that happened. She never asked her either. Mrs. Quintana was another matter entirely. She never liked her, period. Mrs. Quintana spent an extraordinary amount of time telling tales to Grace about Denise. Denise sighed as she accepted Mrs. Quintana’s deadeye glare and snort of contempt.

    Nita stopped in the front of the group of three. You remember Sergeant Carver, don’t you, Captain Norton? How about you, Mrs. Quintana; remember her? she asked with an inclusive wave of her hand. Dr. Benson, I don’t think introductions are in order for you.

    Denise grinned at the doctor. The doctor and I go way back. Don’t we, Benny?

    Mrs. Quintana snorted. It’s Benny, is it, huh? You like men now too? she muttered under her breath but loud enough for Denise, Nita, Captain Norton, and Dr. Benson to hear.

    Denise’s brown cheeks flushed, turning a warm cranberry. She cleared her throat as she studied the shorter woman. I see you haven’t changed your mind about me after all these years, Mrs. Quintana.

    No, I haven’t. You leave a memorably negative impression, Patrolman Carver, Hilda Quintana remarked. She folded her arms across a stubborn chest, acting as immovable and stubborn as she did a decade ago. Another thing, the doctor tells me Grace wants you to care for her daughter until she gets back on her feet. Well, let me tell you something, Patrolman Carver. If you hurt that child or make her cry, I’m telling you right now I will call Child Welfare and get your butt thrown in jail. Is that understood, Patrolman Carver? I still live across the hall. I’ll be watching you.

    Denise nodded and almost saluted the domineering little bitch. Yes, Ma’am, you’ve been perfectly clear with your feelings about me. Captain Norton, it’s good to see you again. She held out a hand and he shook it. It was useless to offer a hand to Hilda Quintana since she’d never lower her guard to shake it. Some things never changed, she mused.

    I’m sorry we’re meeting under these circumstances, Sergeant Carver. Mrs. Quintana and I were just speaking with Dr. Benson about the lieutenant’s prognosis. He seems to think… Norton eyed Dr. Benson, then rubbed his neck. I’d better let him tell it. He glanced at his watch. I’ve got to go, Doc. You have my cell. Call me if there’s any change. Carver, take care of our girl. Mrs. Quintana, it was nice to meet you.

    Humph, I wish I could say the same, Captain Norton, Mrs. Quintana muttered, watching him scurry over to the elevators like his pants were on fire. What an asshole she has for a boss. Take care of ‘our girl.’ Christ, Grace hasn’t been a girl since I don’t know when. That’s such a demeaning thing to say about a Black woman, or any woman, for that matter.

    Denise watched him hustle into the elevator. I couldn’t agree with you more on that score, Mrs. Quintana. Bet he stayed maybe ten minutes, right?

    Humph! You’re wrong again, Patrolman Carver. It was eight minutes by my watch, Mrs. Quintana remarked, glaring at the elevator he’d just entered.

    Denise swallowed her laughter as she glanced at Nita and Dr. Benson, each one trying not to laugh at shorter woman’s unintended joke. Yes, Ma’am. She cleared her throat as she faced the doctor. How is she, Benny?

    Dr. Benson sighed. Okay, here’s the brief version. She’s improving. She’s still on the critical list, but she’s improving. The bullets, the main one, hit her in the back after it bounced off something she was wearing. We still don’t know what, but it acted like a shield, deflecting the speed of the bullet and the amount of damage too. Crazy thing, the bullet didn’t hit vital organs when it exited. The second one grazed her left side.

    Denise exhaled, letting out the breath she held. That’s good, isn’t it, Benny?

    Yeah, it’s good news and bad. The darned thing chewed up muscle tissue in her back and possibly nicked several lower lumbar discs. We won’t know all the damage until we can see it. We had to immobilize everything until the swelling goes down. We don’t want her moving around at all.

    What’s that mean for her, Doc?

    Lewis Benson rubbed his beard, then turned around to make sure the little girl was sleeping. He watched her chest rising and then falling. She was asleep. He decided to continue. Okay, worst-case scenario, she is paralyzed for life because the bullet damaged her spine in a place we can’t repair. Middle case, the bullet did some damage. She’s in a wheelchair for several months until the swelling goes down and we can repair the damage. She walks but wears a back brace for the rest of her life. She’ll walk with a limp and use a cane.

    But she’d be up and walking, right, Doc?

    Yeah, she’d be up and walking, Dee.

    Denise frowned. I hear ‘but’ in there. What haven’t you said, Benny?

    If we’re still the mid-case scenario, Dee, have you forgotten we are talking about an active woman? She’s on the volleyball team. I think she still swims laps every morning. She jogs around a nearby track at night. He looked at Mrs. Quintana for confirmation and she nodded. How do you think she’ll feel wearing a back brace and using a cane for the rest of her life?

    Pretty damned grateful to be alive, is what I think. Denise rubbed her neck. I know I was when I woke up after being shot and still had all my limbs.

    Lewis Benson groaned. Funny, that’s not how I remember your reaction, Dee. You were a bitch to treat. You sulked a lot. You felt sorry for yourself and wallowed in self-pity for months. As for following the rules, I think the ladies will agree. Dee, you ain’t too good at that, are you?

    Denise shoved her hands in her pockets, then pulled them out and folded them over her chest. She glared at the three of them. Which is why I shouldn’t be the one to take care of her kid or her if that’s what you had in mind, Benny.

    Mrs. Quintana spoke first. Normally, I’d agree with you about that, Patrolman Carver. But you’re the one she wants for this assignment. I suspect she has good reasons for thinking that way. If, as you say, you’ve been through this before yourself, then you know what to expect with her. Once again, I’m warning you not to trifle with her or her daughter. There will be repercussions from me and mine if you do.

    Lewis Benson nodded. I’m with Mrs. Quintana one this one, Dee. How about you, Nita, what do you think?

    Nita sighed. I agree with the two of you. Dee is the one to do this if Grace comes out of this.

    Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, people. Mind if I go see her, Benny?

    Do I need to remind you how she’ll look hooked up to machines and wrapped up a bit like a mummy?

    Denise shrugged, then strode down the hallway to the large open room with two walls made of glass, making it easy for medical team to see patients at a quick glance. She stood looking into the room for a moment when one of the ICU nurses walked up behind her.

    You can have five minutes with her, Sergeant Carver. Stay longer and you’re putting her life in jeopardy, understand?

    Yes, Ma’am, I do. How did you know who I am?

    Dr. Benson said we should expect you today.

    In a room full of sergeants and lieutenants, how could you tell who I was?

    The nurse peeked around her solid form to look in her face. He described you perfectly.

    Oh. Denise sighed, then ran a hand through her hair. She closed her eyes for a minute to steady her mind and her heart. When she opened them, she exhaled, then walked through the doorway and approached the bed where Grace Warren rested. Her eyes widened at the amount of damage she saw.

    Machine wires, suction cups, and IV lines seemed to be attached to every limb on Grace’s body. She noted the ones attached to her head, neck, and chest to monitor brain activity, blood pressure, and her heart rate. There was a pressure cuff around the bicep of her right arm and a finger pincher on the opposite hand that was stretched out flat and attached to a board. Lines from several IV bags hung over her bed, dripping fluid into the tubes that joined into one needle that punctured her left arm. She wore a plastic collar that didn’t allow her head to turn. And there was a bulge from a bandage on her left side near her love handles.

    When Denise stepped closer to the bed, she noticed the board underneath Grace’s body. She was strapped to the board in several places—her neck, waist, thighs, her legs at the calves and ankles— which barred all movement but one of her arms. One eye was swollen shut, her face around her mouth was swollen purple and mottled. The blanket and sheet covering her had slipped down to expose the bruising around her neck where the scumbag tried to choke her. Her upper chest looked as bruised and mottled as her face.

    Goddamn it, Gracie! Why did you have to fight the bastard? Couldn’t you just let him leave? At sound of Denise’s husky contralto, Grace’s good eye fluttered open to stare at her.

    Grace licked dry lips. Dee? she croaked, then groaned from the effort to speak. Is that you?

    Yeah, it’s me. Denise reached over to stroke her forehead. It was the one area that wasn’t bruised. I’m here as long as you need me.

    Thirsty. Ice.

    Denise stroked her forehead. Don’t talk, okay? She turned around to look at the night stand behind her. She noticed cups of ice chips lined up on it. She signaled a nurse, held up a cup, and pointed, then raised her eyebrow. The nurse nodded, then pointed to her hands and the box of gloves on the wall. She returned the nod and slipped on gloves. She grabbed a chip, then wet Grace’s lips, trying to avoid bumping against bruised lips. Better?

    Grace sighed. Have to pee.

    It’s okay, Baby. You’re attached to a catheter. You can piss all you want. It won’t wet anything.

    Grace closed her eyes, then tried to move. Have to get her. Get my baby girl. Where is she?

    Take it easy, Gracie. If you move too much, you’ll hurt yourself. Denise stroked Grace’s forehead and she stopped moving around on the bed. She’s outside sleeping, Gracie. She’s okay. I didn’t get a chance to meet her yet. What’s her name?

    Grace sighed, then in a voice barely above a soft whisper, she spoke about her favorite topic, her daughter. Prefers Niecy. Full name is Francine Denice Warren. It’s Denice with a c.

    Surprised at the news, Denise cleared her throat to speak and found that she couldn’t without worry. Gracie, don’t talk anymore. Save your strength. I want you healthy. Then we can talk about the big-ass fool I was eleven years ago.

    Used to have big ass but too tired to check tonight. Grace smiled and closed her eyes.

    Denise leaned over the metal bed rail to kiss her forehead. You rest, Gracie. I’ll be here when you open your eyes again.

    Kay.

    Chapter Three: Grace’s second night in the hospital

    Denise walked out of the ICU with tears in her eyes. She stood looking at Grace through the window, scolding herself for a public display of affection. But she couldn’t help it. She cried silently until she felt a hand on her shoulder and somebody rubbing her back with a light touch. It’s okay, Dee. She’ll pull through this one. She’s a fighter. You lived with her for three years. You know I’m right. But somebody else needs you, so stop crying and pull yourself together, Nita murmured, handing Denise a lacy handkerchief. Here. Wipe your eyes and blow your nose.

    Denise took another look at Grace, then did Nita as instructed. She fluffed her dreadlocks, then adjusted her navy police uniform’s jacket. How do I look? she asked, turning to Nita.

    Nita studied her face for a minute and giggled. You look like you’ve been crying a river. Anyway, come over and meet Grace’s daughter, Niecy.

    Denise sighed and rubbed her chin. She told me the kid’s name is Francine Denice Warren with a ‘c’ and not an ‘s’ like mine. Christ! Why would she give the kid my name, Nita? Even with a ‘c,’ it’s still my name.

    Nita smiled and patted her arm. If you think about it for a minute, you’ll know why.

    The two women stood looking through the ICU’s window at the bruised and battered woman on the bed. You haven’t asked me, Dee. But I’ll tell you anyway. We broke up because she still loved you. Faults and all, she still loved you. I think she’ll always have a special place in her heart for you.

    Yeah, I figured as much when CJ told me I’m still her emergency contact.

    How do you feel about it?

    Denise scratched her head and then looked down the hall in the direction of the kid sleeping on the couch. Shit if I know, Nita. Take me to the kid, okay?

    The two women walked down the hallway, nodding at the nurses as they passed. They stopped at the doorway to the waiting room. Denise looked around, discovering it was empty save for the child on the couch and CJ, who was speaking in low soft tones to Mrs. Quintana. Whatever he said had her giggling like a shy schoolgirl trying to hide her laughter behind a manicured hand. She frowned and thought, How come she’s laughing her ass off at CJ’s stupid jokes, but she can’t stand me? Shit, he just met her. What’s he got that I don’t?

    She studied the little girl on the couch, wondering what she looked like. It was difficult to tell from this angle. All she could see was big thick brown braids covering her head and partly obscuring her face. Manny must have left because his jacket no longer covered the kid. She decided the room was cold, maybe too cold for a sleeping kid. The little girl moved around restlessly on the couch, curling up like she was cold. She started unbuttoning her jacket, ready to cover the kid with it, when CJ nodded in recognition, then reached over to adjust the covers, pulling up the blanket at her feet.

    Denise sighed and thought that was another opportunity lost. She took a seat across from Hilda Quintana, her nephew CJ, and the sleeping kid. She reached out to grab a magazine off the table. She pretended to read. In reality, she was watching the two people who represented the bane of her existence. The itch in the crack of her ass she couldn’t scratch without seeming uncouth or the toxic pimple she couldn’t remove on an otherwise clear complexion. How about the sticky, messed-up chewing gum stuck to the bottom of her shoes she couldn’t get rid of no matter how

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