End of Watch

Dropping bread in the toaster Frank asked, 'You want me to make you a real meal tonight?'

'I want you should stop bringin' home pints of ice cream for me, that's what I want.'

'All right. Let me cook a good dinner for you. I'll make something heal dry.'

'You don't have to cook for me, Frank.'

'I know, but it gives me pleasure. Keeps me distracted. Makes me feel useful.'

'Well, if you want. I'd never turn down a meal.'

'Any requests?' Frank said, sitting at the table.

'Surprise me. It's all been good so far. Just no sweetbreads or liver. I don't like organ meat.'

'Makes two of us.'

Frank took part of the paper and the women ate in silence. Still looking at her paper Annie reached for her coffee and said, 'I'm gonna miss you, ya know. Gotten spoiled coming home to food and company.'

'Maybe this is all prep for findin' yourself a nice man in nine months, two weeks and three days.'

'Listen to you with the nice man, already. Some lesbian, always pushin' men on me. You ain't earnin' no toasters, cookie.'

Frank laughed as Annie smoothed the paper on the table and went to dress for work. Frank cleared her dishes and brewed a pot of coffee for the Thermos. She read the rest of the paper and as Annie headed out Frank reminded, 'Don't forget to give me Charlie's number.'

'Oh, yeah. Lemme get that for you.'

She rummaged through her phone book and wrote the number on a Post-it. Frank stuck the note on the Thermos, watching Annie go through her routine with the Virgin.

Later, as Frank was on her way out the door, she winked at the Madonna. 'Wish me luck, Baby Muvuh.'

She ran through her usual morning routine at the cemetery, then settled in the Nova to make a shopping list for dinner. Annie called in the middle of it.

'Hi. I been tellin' my daughter what a good cook you are and she wants to come over for dinner. Is that all right with the cook?'

'Sure,' Frank answered. 'What does she like?'

'Psh. My kids, I tell ya. You'd think they was raised like royalty. Ben won't eat nothin' that's not organic or free-range and Lisa won't eat nothin' with a carbohydrate. They're not my kids. I think the stork brought 'em.'

'No problem. Ben and Lisa or just Lisa?'

'Just Lisa, thank God.'

'What time?'

'Anytime after seven, Job permittin'.'

'All right. See you then.'

'Sure you don't mind?'

'It's an awnuh,' Frank teased.

'You're a doll. See you later.'

Frank crossed out the menu she'd been playing with and started over. It wasn't like she had anything better to do.

She ended up making roast beef in a Dijon shell, steamed kale drizzled with Hollandaise sauce and baby lettuces with a mustard vinaigrette. Lisa had her mother's appetite and vibrant dark looks. She was duly impressed with Frank's mastery of the kitchen and spent the evening pumping Frank for Hollywood celebrity sightings. Frank had met dozens of rappers and a few actors from the 'hood, but when she compared South Central to Upper Harlem Lisa was disappointed.

'All the glamorous places you could be working and you're both in the pits. What's up with that? Are you masochists or some-thin'?'

Annie and Frank exchanged sheepish grins.

'Anyway, I've gotta run. I've got a mock trial at seven a.m. Dinner was gorgeous, Frank. Thanks for havin' me.'

While Annie walked Lisa out of the building Frank put the leftovers away. She missed her music. If she were home she'd put something jazzy on the stereo, but Annie never seemed to play music so Frank let it go. Maybe the silence was just as well. Bending old routines was probably good for her. And the music would always be there.

Annie walked into the kitchen, crying, 'Whaddaya doin'? Get out! You made dinner. Go sit! Watch TV or somethin'. Shoo!'

'All part of the service, ma'am.'

'I'm serious. Get outta here.' Shoving her sleeves over her elbows Annie ran water in the sink.

Frank sat at the table with last night's ice cream. 'She's a nice girl.'

'Yeah, despite me, huh?'

'Yeah,' Frank kidded. 'Despite how selfish you are.'

Annie grunted, swirling her hands in the soapy water. 'Ya miss not havin' kids?'

'Nope. Never wanted 'em. I didn't get a maternal gene. I mean, I like 'em if they're somebody else's, but talk about selfish. I could never give that much time to somebody else, especially when I was drinking. That was a full- time job in itself.'

'I can't imagine you drunk.'

'Good. It's not pretty.' Frank scraped the bottom of the pint. 'So let me ask you somethin'. What's the whole story?'

'Whaddaya talkin' about?'

'Last night. When I said you weren't selfish you said I didn't know the whole story.'

For a second Annie was still. She said nothing, but started washing the dishes again. Frank waited and was rewarded.

'I had three kids. Ben, Lisa and Brian. Brian was six when I got a call from the school saying he was in the hospital. You know those playground carousels the kids push and then jump on to? Well, he went to jump on and misjudged his step. He tripped. His chin hit the metal floor and he bounced his skull into the foot of one of the bars. Bruised his brain. Contrecoup injury. They couldn't get the swelling down. He died next morning. Never regained consciousness.'

Annie rinsed the roasting pan, searching for a place to put it. Frank took the pan, drying it as Annie continued.

'I made sergeant after that. Left Ben and Lisa with my mom as much as possible. Or with their aunts. After sergeant I went for my shield. I worked hard for it. Took me three years to make gold. I worked twelve, sixteen, eighteen hours—whatever it took—everyday. Whenever the Job needed me. I didn't think about Brian when I was workin'. Ben and Lisa either. So it was selfish. Very selfish.'

Annie passed Frank a pot. She toweled it and put it away. 'You must have done somethin' right. It seems like you have pretty good kids.'

Shrugging, Annie replied, 'It kinda all came to a head when Ben was in seventh grade. The detective's son was caught peddlin' dope in the boys' room at school. I didn't know how to deal with that. I was floored. A cop's son, right? He should know better. My mother, my sisters, they ganged up on me. Said they weren't gonna help with the kids anymore unless I got into counseling. Oh, let me tell ya, I was steamin'. What did I have to go to counselin' for? It was Ben with the problem, not me. But I went. Turned out a large part a Ben's problem was not havin' a father or a mother. I got better after that. Put in for days whenever I could get 'em. Brought work home instead of stayin' at the House. Got involved with their lives. Poor kids. They was bein' passed around like orphans. Half the time I didn't know if they were at their grandmother's or their aunt's.'

Frank wagged her head.

'What?' Annie asked.

'Nothin'. I was just thinking this morning, the paths our lives took. I was feeling bad about all the running I've done, running from my past, but this is where it's brought me. Here tonight. Sober. Helping with the dishes. Talking to a friend. Full belly. Warm bed. Laying ghosts to rest. Hard as a lot of it's been, I guess I wouldn't trade any of it. Even the bad stuff.'

Annie offered a wan smile. She nodded. 'I haven't told that story in years.' Pulling the drain plug, she added,