Work Text:
“Barba,” she said, a bit breathlessly, “it’s Amanda.”
“Amanda…” he repeated, his face drawing into a frown.
He supposed she could hear his surprise because she followed with, “Yeah...Rollins. Amanda Rollins--”
“I know who you are, ” he replied, sarcasm in full force. “My memory hasn’t left me, even if my scruples did.”
“You’re a regular comedian, aren’t you?” she returned, and he could hear Jesse’s voice in the background. He pictured Amanda’s head turning from the phone as he heard her shush the little girl. “Look, I’m having an emergency and wouldn’t have even called you but I honestly have nobody else...I just got called in and my sitter’s got the stomach flu. My backup sitter is out on a date or something and my neighbor went to Atlantic City for the day--”
“You’re calling me to watch your kids?” His frown turned into a shocked, round O and he felt his eyebrows hit his hairline. “Just because I can hold a baby doesn’t mean I can take care of one.”
“Not Billie,” she replied quickly, and he could hear her shush Jesse again. “It’s just Jesse. Billie’s with her dad--”
“And he can’t watch Jesse?”
“Uh, no,” she said flatly. “I don’t want to get into it right now, but I’m not even crazy about him watching his own daughter. Look,” she repeated the word again, “I’m desperate here. There’s not even Frannie here, so it’s simple--”
“What?” Now he was really confused. “Where’s your dog, Rollins?”
“She had minor surgery today. No big deal but she can’t be picked up until tomorrow. So it’s just Jesse. Liv’s waiting for me to call her back. Can you help me or not?”
He sighed heavily and rubbed his face with his free hand. “Yeah, sure,” he finally replied. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“ Thank you,” he heard, before the phone clicked and the line went dead. He held the phone in his hand for a moment, flipping it back and forth, before tucking it in his pocket and getting up to find his shoes.
*************************************
“Untle Waffy-Taffy!” Jesse squealed delightedly as he entered the small apartment. “Long time no see you!” The little girl was literally hopping up and down with excitement, a huge grin spread across her tiny face. “Momma says we gonna have SO much fun! You wike fun, wight?”
Glancing from Jesse to Amanda, he answered, “I think I do...what exactly does fun entail, Momma?”
“Uh, pizza!” Amanda shoved a twenty toward him while grinning at Jesse. “There’s movies set up in the Netflix queue for her, and there’s some crayons and art supplies in the top cabinet in the kitchen. There’s lots of books and toys--Jesse knows where all of it is--right, Jess?” She yanked her coat sleeve on as Jesse nodded her head. She leaned down and kissed the little girl. “Okay, be good for Uncle Rafi...what he says goes, got it?” Swinging the door back open, she turned back to him once more. “Bedtime’s eight o’clock, so you’ve only got a couple hours to kill...and make sure she uses the bathroom before she goes to bed, will you?”
“Uh, sure?” he answered, and Amanda shot him a smile before closing the door.
“Okay,” he said, more to himself than to Jesse, who was currently spinning in circles with her arms out and her head back. “Pizza first, I think, so you have time to eat before you have to go to bed.” He sat down on the couch and began to fiddle with his phone, trying to find a local pizza shop. “What kind of pizza do you like, Jess?”
The little girl stopped spinning and jumped onto the couch next to him. “I wike cheese pizza. Wif mushrooms.”
He stared at her for a minute, recalling the last time he had pizza with Liv and Noah, and Liv’s comment that kids under ten never ate veggies on pizza. “Are you sure about that? Are you sure you want mushrooms?”
She nodded. “Yep. And some wanch to dip it in.”
He felt his own face scrunch up in distaste. “If you say so,” he muttered, then dialed.
He had just hung up after placing his order of a large, half-mushroom, half-white pizza with chicken, when he felt a tug on his sleeve. “Didja tell them spwite?” Jesse asked.
“No.” Rafael adjusted his sleeve. “Your mom didn’t say anything about sprite. I’m guessing you have drinks here, don’t you? Juice or milk or something?”
He watched as her little nose scrunched up. “Not wif pizza,” she corrected him. “When we have pizza, Momma has her grownup juice and I have spwite. And chicken wings. The hot kind.” At his heavy sigh, she added, “Dat’s what Momma gets. Dat’s how you’re s’posed to do pizza, Untle Wafi. Don’t you know dat?”
“I guess I didn’t,” he grumbled, redialing the pizza shop and amending his order. Once he hung up, he took a seat next to the little girl on the couch, who was now bouncing up and down on the couch. “You eat hot wings?” he asked, still doubtful that she’d eat anything he had ordered.
“Yep. Me an’ Momma eat ‘em, but not Billie. She’s too wittle still. She wikes sweet ‘tatoes though. Dat’s her favorite. Can we watch TV?”
“Sure,” he replied, reaching for the remote. After a few moments of fiddling, he managed to pull up the appropriate queue. “So which of these do you want to see? There’s Pete’s Dragon...I remember that when I was little, Jesse! You want to see that?”
“No. I wanna see Dora. The one wif the Big Bad Wolf.”
“Hmm.” Another minute and he had pulled it up. “Okay, here you go.” He started the program for her, then realized he was still in his coat, so he went to hang it up. The coatrack was near the kitchen, and he did a quick scan around for any of “Momma’s juice”. Amanda had invited him to make himself at home, and he certainly wouldn’t turn down a glass once the kid was in bed. Not seeing any, he turned to rejoin Jesse, only to find her inches from his heels,staring up at him. “Good God!” he yelped, and she giggled. “Jesse, you startled me! What do you need?”
“I wanna draw a picture. Tan you get the cwayons?”
“Sure, I guess.” He took the opportunity to poke through several cabinets, keeping an eye out for liquor, before landing on the top shelf Amanda had pointed out earlier. He reached in and pulled out a school box filled with crayons and some blank paper underneath it. “Will this work?”
“Yes! Yay, my cwayons!” She embraced the box to her chest and jumped up and down. “My cwayons, my cwayons, my lovely lovely little cwayons,” she sang as she skipped back to the couch. “I’m gonna draw a picture for my momma. She misses me at work.” Jesse sat on the floor and opened her crayon box, and Rafael took a seat behind her. Checking his watch, he made a mental note to expect the pizza in another fifteen minutes. Good thing, too...this kid needed to eat and get to bed. He didn’t have plans per se, but since Rollins had Netflix, he could catch up on a couple series he’d been watching. Sure, it wasn’t a night at the theater, or even a night like so many lately, cooped up at home reviewing cases, but he could enjoy it anyway. He watched as Jesse carefully picked the crayons up one at a time, deciding on a purple one. “I’m gonna use DIS one! My momma WOVES purple. Did you know dat, Untle Wafi?” She began to draw on her paper.
“Uh, no, I didn’t know that.” He fiddled with the wristband on his watch. He needed to get a new one. This one was wearing out.
“Why?”
He blinked. “Why what?”
Jesse stopped coloring at looked at him. “Why you not know my momma woves purple?”
Huh? How was he supposed to know what colors Rollins liked? This was exactly the reason he didn’t spend time around kids. Their conversations were... weird . He shrugged. “I guess we’ve never talked about it.”
“Oh.” The little girl began to work on her picture again. “Maybe you should.”
He snorted. “Yeah, maybe so.”
She swapped out crayons. “You need a tissue? We got some in the bathroom.”
This kid. “No, I’m fine. Thank you.”
“No problem. Oh wook! It’s the Big Bad Wolf!” Rafael watched as Jesse dropped her crayons and stood up, eyes focused on the television. A moment later her little body was moving in rhythm to the song the wolf was singing, and she sang along loudly. Not just loudly, but exuberantly. Joyfully, even, he’d say, as though she hadn’t a care in the world. He pressed a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. For a moment, he was reminded of himself at her age, singing loudly and excitedly to his abuelita. He could still hear her rushed words of praise and her sweet, tight embrace. “Maravilloso, mijo!” she had cried with bright eyes and a beautiful smile. “Encantador!”
The music stopped and Jesse’s arms flew over her head. “Ta-dah!” she exclaimed proudly, and he found himself clapping despite himself.
“Bravo, Jesse! That was impressive.” He watched as she sat back down by his feet. “You really like that song, huh?”
“Yep.” She picked up another crayon. “What’s bravo? Like when you’re brave? Like I’m brave to sing a wolf song?”
“Not exactly,” he answered, trying again not to chuckle. “It’s a way to say you did a great job. People sometimes say it in the theater.”
“The movie theater?”
“No. Theaters for plays and musicals. Like Broadway. Have you heard of Broadway?”
She shook her little head. “No. Have you heard of takeaway? Sal’s has takeaway service. Me and Momma pick up dinner there sometimes.”
“Sounds tasty. Speaking of which, I wonder where our pizza is?” He paused for a minute, checking his watch. “You really haven’t heard of Broadway?”
She shook her head again. “I’m only four, Untle Wafi. I haven’t heard of a wotta stuff.”
“Yeah, but you’re a New Yorker. I’m gonna have to talk to your mom about this. We need to get you to a theater before you get much older. You’d really like it. People do a lot of singing and dancing on the stage. Like the Big Bad Wolf did.”
“Really?” she asked. “Do you sing and dance on the stage, Untle Wafi? Tan I?”
“Actually, we would be in the audience. We would watch other people. Kind of like TV but in person.”
“Huh.” Jesse picked up her picture and looked at it closely. “I wike TV. I think I can go wif you to dat pwace. What’s it called again? Do you wanna go after pizza?”
“It’s called Broadway. And we’ll have to go another time.” He stood up, hearing the knock on the door. “I’m ready for pizza. How about you?”
***
“Otay, Untle Wafi, I’m weady.” Jesse jumped onto her bed, then climbed under her covers.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “Did you use the bathroom? Brush your teeth? Wash your hands? You look like you’re still sporting hot sauce on your face.” He had hardly been able to believe it, but the kid had eaten three hot wings and a slice of mushroom pizza. She would have gone for his chicken pizza as well if he hadn’t protected it with his life.
She sighed. “Yes, I went potty. Momma always says ‘go potty, go potty, go potty’. I tan’t go potty so much. I’m just a wittle girl.”
He held up her hand, noting the splotch of sauce on her palm. “Go wash your hands and your face, please.”
Sighing heavily again, Jesse stomped to the bathroom. “I washing my face!” she called loudly. “Washing my face, washing my face...now I washing my hands! All cwean!” He heard the water turn off and a minute later she was jumping into the bed again. Reaching under her pillow, she came up with a large hardcover picture book. “Tan you wead dis to me? I tan help you. I know most of it, if it’s hard.”
He raised one eyebrow at her. “You do know I’m required to read for a living, right?”
She raised one eyebrow back, and he couldn’t help it, something inside of him was impressed. “No, you haven’t read the whole time you been here and you’re still alive,” she told him confidently. “You don’t gotta wead to stay alive.”
He didn’t even know where to begin to sort out that one. Instead, he shook his head. “Fine, you win. I’ll read it. But you start. Read the title, please…”
“Goodnight Gorilla,” she read proudly, and he felt himself smile.
“Very good,” he said as he opened the book.
***
“Barba.” He heard the soft, feminine voice to his side, smelled the clean scent of feminine perfume, and for a moment he was back at Harvard, Rita Calhoun next to him after a very late study session. A hand shook him. “Rafael...hey...Rafael.” He opened his eyes to see Rollins leaning over him, smiling.
“Hey,” he mumbled sleepily, pulling himself up to a sitting position. “You smell good...didn’t mean to fall asleep…” He struggled to get his eyes open. Where was he again? Oh yeah, on Rollins’ couch, watching BoJack…
She sat in the chair next to him. “Everything go okay? She didn’t cause you any trouble, did she?” She watched as he rubbed his eyes and collected himself. He was still a bit groggy, eyes not completely open and hair spikey. All in all, a look she’d never seen on him before but absolutely adorable, Not that she’d tell him.
“Oh yeah,” he nodded, coming back to earth quickly now. “We watched some cartoons and ate some pizza, and she drew you a picture.” He reached over for the paper Jesse had left on the coffee table for Amanda. He picked it up and handed it to her. “I understand purple is your favorite color,” he said, a wry smile on his face.
“Well, look at that,” Amanda admired, holding it up. “She loves that purple is my favorite. I haven’t got the heart to tell her my favorite is really teal.”
He laughed at that and rubbed his head. “Well, I guess I should get going. Thanks for the pizza.” He stood and then gathered his coat. She helped him slip it on.
“It’s freezing out there,” she said softly. “You have gloves...or a hat?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his leather gloves. “I’m good,” he grinned. “And oh, the leftovers are in the fridge, in case you’re hungry.”
Now she smiled. “I’m good, but thanks.” She suddenly reached out a hand and rested it on his bicep. “Really, Rafael, thank you...you saved me from a tough spot tonight and I really appreciate it.”
He smiled at her, and was surprised to see how bright her blue eyes were. “Anytime,” he winked, “and I halfway mean that.”
She punched his arm teasingly. “You’re awful! Loosened up a lot since the DA’s office…”
“Yeah,” he agreed, and his tone turned softer, more serious. “I have.”
She was holding on to the arm of his coat, stepping closer, and he repeated softly, “I have” as she leaned into him, softly pressing her lips to his.
And in that moment, he saw a flash of memories of her--shaking her hand the first time, seeing her interrogate suspects, hearing her banter with him, literally chasing her down to get testimony of her own assault, watching her go through motherhood the first time with Jesse, knowing how hard she fought to survive--and he wanted her. He wanted all of who she was. He wanted along for the ride.
So when she moved back, he moved forward and returned her kiss, gentle and sweet with what he hoped was a promise of more. Sometime. Probably not with a kid around.
She chuckled softly. “Maybe next time we get together, we can do something more adult-oriented.”
He smiled, then pressed a light kiss to her forehead. “I’d like that. Ever heard of Broadway?”