“So now you want both?”
“Yeah, actually… I do.”
My wife shook her head. “If you were a woman, I’d wonder if you were pregnant.”
“If that was the case wouldn’t I be craving pickles and ice cream?”
“That’s a…”
“I was kidding,” I said, cutting her off as I half chuckled. “Just kidding.”
“All right then, I’ll let it go this time,” she replied, then chewed at her lower lip for a moment before musing, “Well, obviously this must be because of the stress-just look at everything you’ve been through. But I wonder if it’s connected to the bleeding somehow…”
“What, you mean the cravings?” I asked.
She nodded. “Aye. You seem to be obsessing over foods rich in iron. Liver, collard greens… How would you feel about broccoli then?”
“Actually, it sounds pretty good at the moment,” I said, nodding agreement. “I’ll take all three.”
“That must be it then because you do seem a bit preoccupied with food and that’s not like you.”
“Makes sense to me. Like you said, stress, bleeding, iron… But yeah, the funny thing is I’m not even all that hungry at the moment.”
During the conversation, I had been keeping an eye on the front entrance of police headquarters, waiting for Ben to show. I gave my watch a quick glance then huffed out a sigh.
“I say we give him another five minutes,” I grumbled. “Then if he hasn’t shown I call again.”
“Irritability is a sign of an iron deficiency too,” my wife announced.
“Should I start calling you Doctor O’Brien?” I asked, humor in my tone.
“Not right now,” she replied, cocking her eyebrow. “But maybe we could still play doctor later.”
“Hmph… What happened to the damper on your mood?”
“I guess it went away.”
I shook my head and snorted. “Aren’t we a pair? I’m obsessing about food, you’re obsessing about sex, and neither of them is what we need to be worrying about at the moment. ”
She chuckled lightly. “Aye. You’re right. I think maybe we both need a break.”
“Tell me about it.”
“All right then, what do you think about taking a vacation?” she asked.
“I think it sounds good in theory…” I returned.
“Well? Why don’t we?” she pressed, peering back at me with brows raised and the question swimming in her green eyes. “We haven’t been on a real vacation in years.”
“Yeah, okay, sounds like a hell of an idea,” I replied with a mocking note. “Where are we going and when do we leave?”
“I’m serious, Rowan.” She sounded a bit hurt.
I quickly backpedaled. “I’m sorry, honey. That came out wrong. Actually, I’m serious too, sort of. Unfortunately, we need to wait until this is over.”
“And until Miranda is gone for good too, I suppose?” she said with an almost accusatory note in her voice.
“Yeah… That’s pretty much a given.”
“So, what you’re really saying is don’t make any plans.”
I had obviously misinterpreted how serious she was about this, and her sudden change in demeanor was a wake-up call. Reaching over, I carefully began to massage her shoulder through the leather of her jacket. “No, that isn’t what I’m saying. We just can’t leave right this minute. You know that as well as I do.”
“Aye, I do. But when?”
“I don’t know,” I replied and gave her a half-hearted shrug. “Think about it. I tried backing away from all this, and we saw where that got me. I mean, even you wanted me to stop fighting it. So, now… Well, I’m kind of stuck until this is over.”
“I know,” she murmured. “But remember? We promised ourselves…”
Her point was valid. We were more than due for a break, and we really had promised ourselves we would get away from things for a while once Annalise was in custody. Unfortunately, life got in the way, as usual, and now the dead were once again taking their turn playing roadblock.
It wasn’t as if we couldn’t afford a vacation financially. Money was the least of our problems. All we really needed to do was clear our schedules, get someone to housesit, and just go. It was the whole schedule-clearing thing that had become our ubiquitous sticking point.
I drew in a deep breath then let it out slowly. “Tell you what,” I said after a thoughtful moment. “I’ll make you a deal. As soon as this case is over we’re outta here.”
“And what about Miranda then?”
“If she’s taken care of, fine. If not, well, I’ll just carry the jar around in my suitcase, I guess.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yeah… We need the time away.”
“I’m fairly sure that’s what I was just saying.”
“I know, and I was listening even if it didn’t seem like it. There’s just one caveat… We can go anywhere you want except New Orleans. I don’t want you that close to that bitch ever again. Besides, I don’t even know if I’m exactly welcome there anymore.”
“Actually, I was thinking more along the line of home.”
“Home, eh? Well, I guess that will save us the trouble of packing.”
“Rowan…”
“I know, I know… Just joking again… I get it… You want to go to Ireland.”
“Aye. It’s been too long.”
“Can’t I just blindfold you and take you to one of the local pubs and pretend?”
“Joking again?”
“Trying to.”
“Well stop. You aren’t funny.” She underscored the comment with a grin.
I laughed and nodded. “Ireland it is.”
A hard rap sounded on the windshield to my right, making me start at the noise. I turned to see Ben peering in at us from the passenger side of the Jeep. Apparently both of us had been so preoccupied with our conversation that we hadn’t noticed him standing there. I popped the latch on the door and pushed it open, so he reached out and took hold of the upper edge of the frame and swung it wider. Bending down, he looked through the now open gap.
“Am I interruptin’ you two?” he asked.
“Well, yeah, sort of,” I returned.
“Too bad.”
“Wow, Ben, thanks for understanding,” I retorted.
“Yeah, well I been standin’ here forever.”
I glanced at my watch then back at him. “Maybe a minute or two at the most.”
“Uh-huh, like I said, forever.”
I climbed out of the Jeep, and he moved back as I swung the door shut. Felicity was already coming around the front of the vehicle and stepping up on the sidewalk.
Ben glanced over at her then waved a finger at the Jeep and said “Yo, Firehair… Make sure ya’ lock it up.”
“We’re in front of the police station,” she replied.
“Yeah, and your point?”
Felicity replied by cocking her head to the side and giving him a nonplussed stare as she slid her hand into her jacket pocket. Almost instantly the clunk of the locks sounded next to me.
“There. Better?” she asked.
“Hey, it’s your shit, not mine,” Ben returned then stepped back up onto the sidewalk. “By the way, you got any salt?”
Felicity gave him a puzzled look then quipped, “Not with me. Why, are you out or something?”
