Case of the Great Danish Read online

  For sale?

  Calvin led the charge to the gate as someone inside let the other fuzzy ones out the front door to greet us. I think some greetings and hugging were going on between the girls and my family in the snowy yard as I just stood by the car staring at the sign. But this was the family home. Where the last of dad's memories were. I know I keep telling mom she needs to get back out in the world, dad would have wanted that. But...

  For sale?

  A hand on my shoulder finally allowed me to tear my eyes from the sign. I glanced over at my twin brother, Garrett, who had a sad and understanding look on his face. “Come on inside Flea. Let's talk.”

  I placed a hand on his and nodded once, still in stunned shock. I looked up and saw Jess and Ker standing on the little porch with Becky and my worried looking mom.

  He led me numbly through the packed snow, the sound of ice melt salt crunching under our feet as the wicked breeze nipped at my cheeks. The puffy white snow seemed alive with the flashing colors of the Christmas lights Jane, and the girls helped me hang for mom when we came for Thanksgiving dinner a few weeks back. How could the colors be dancing and glowing so joyfully at a time like this? For sale?

  I barely felt my legs moving as we went through the gate and up into the house, with the dogs trailing behind me, I said absently to mom as I passed by, “There's a sign on the fence.”

  She nodded patiently but gave me a warm smile and hug of greeting as she exhaled and said, “Yes, baby girl, there is.”

  But... this is the house that dad... all of my memories of him revolve around home. I didn't realize how much so until I saw that sign. Sometimes I'm afraid that I am forgetting him, where I can't quite remember what his voice sounded like, or having to work hard to remember his face before he got sick. But I always knew I could come back home, and all those memories would come rushing back to me.

  Gar and I have been urging mom to allow herself to go back out in the dating world, we know dad would want her to be happy. She's been reticent to do that, instead immersing herself into one activity or group after another.

  My mom... is definitely not your average mom. She's the reigning women's arm wrestling champion of Liberty and has been in clubs from spelunking, to bowling, to chainsaw log carving since we've encouraged her to get out there. The big, snow-covered, carved squirrel with the freakishly poofy tail in the front yard was the result of that last particular endeavor.

  But I never imagined... this.

  Bek saw my distress and slapped her husband's hands from my shoulders and hugged me. “Oh, honey, come'ere.”

  I absently hugged the wiry muscled climbing instructor, then broke out of her hug and dropped to a knee to hug and kiss her growing baby bump. My niece is growing inside there. Squee! My sis-in-law giggled at me as I whispered to the miracle in her belly.

  My momentary elation over my niece faded as I stood and nervously started stress folding the laundry mom had mounded on the coffee table by the half full basket.

  I swear I raised my mother better than this, the place was a mess. I mean, with the clothes out like this, and the magazines just all willy-nilly on the side tables with no sense of order. They weren't even stacked neatly.

  Gar was prompting me, “Fin, come on, stop. The place looks fine. What you call cluttered, the rest of us mere mortals call comfortable. Lived in.”

  Jess told him as mom eyed me from the entry hall, studying me the way she did whenever I was fighting off a panic attack, “Yo, Ken doll, let her work through this.”

  I stopped for a moment and eyed her, she seemed to not be surprised about this. Ker was smirking at me as she sat on the overstuffed couch. The two brats somehow already knew about this... development.

  I stood straighter and pushed some loose curls, which had escaped from under my hat, behind my ear, then smoothed out my skirt. Something was fishy in River City here. The place was conveniently a little too messy. Everyone knew that when my emotions ran high, I got a little... OCD-ish.

  Shut up.

  This was a setup. They all knew I'd react badly to finding the family home was for sale. These unfolded clothes were a plant! I narrowed my eyes at everyone in turn as they sat, observing me like they would an animal at the zoo.

  I whined, “Heyyy...” I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of falling for it. I stomped to the door, giving mom a wary look of suspicion as I placed my boots under the hook labeled “Finnegan” then hung my coat and hat on the labeled hook. Then mom had the audacity to look a little amused when I caved and scurried over to finish cleaning the place.

  I wasn't falling for their distraction mind you, it just made good sense to clean up, I mean, a cluttered space is a cluttered mind. Right? Don't look at me like that. I grumbled in incredulity at the smug platypuses sitting around the space. “You all knew?”

  The lack of response was all the incriminating evidence I required. Guilty, every last one of them. They were all so on my list. I looked at mom, and she held her hands out to placate me as she moved toward the kitchen. “I promised Jane we wouldn't discuss this until she was here.”

  Whaaa? Jane knew too? By the seven canine lords of Nebula B, I was going to withhold nookie tonight if it was true that my Jerk Cop was hiding something from me. Ok fine, maybe I wouldn't be able to resist, but it would be angry nookie. I mean, have you seen my detective? I'm only human.

  Kerry said behind her hand, “It's like you can almost see the hamster in the squeaky wheel as she works her way through it.”

  I muttered to her as I waggled a finger, “That's right, Ker-bear, yuck it up.”

  She was saved from me having to tell my fuzzy minions to attack, by mom bringing out a tray of frosted Christmas cookies and,a pitcher of milk. I felt as if I were a nature documentary writer, watching a pack of ravenous wolves dive on their unsuspecting prey. I had to grin at watching my family and extended family groaning in pleasure as they bit into mom's creations. I got my cooking and baking genes from her.

  What? That's a thing.

  By the time I had the place looking presentable, and washed the insides of the plate glass windows looking out onto the twilight of the winter wonderland that was Liberty, New York, a familiar SUV pulled up outside by the big crossed candy-canes on the parking strip by the sidewalk.

  I tried not to get as excited as the dogs who had seen and went to whine and bark at the front door. I stood from the love seat, straightened my sundress and walked calmly to the door to the snorting and chiding from the peanut gallery.

  Just ignore them, I do.

  I opened the door to let the beasties free and grinned like a loon as they almost mauled Jane at the gate in their excitement. She had her arms full of brightly wrapped presents. I squeaked and put on my boots at seeing her helpless and pleading look on the other side of the gate.

  I waved from my hip at her as I scurried out to help her with the gate. By the holy tug rope, it was freezing out there without a coat. I shooed the dogs and stepped in front of the woman who had stolen my heart. Then I pointedly turned around and crossed my arms petulantly across my chest.

  She started chuckling in that low, smoky manner she had which sent pleasant shivers straight to my special places. As sharp as ever, she defended, “Hey now Finny, I promised your mother I would let her tell you.”

  I turned around and grumped, “Fine.”

  She agreed. “Fine.”

  I huffed, “Fine!” Then calmed and gave her a quick peck on the lips and opened the gate for her. She had that smirky cop face on as she bumped the gate closed with her hip then almost sauntered to the door.

  What did I see in the most aggravating woman in the cosmos? Just look at that butt. Drooler, thy name is Finnegan.

  I ran to catch up.

  I may or may not have been tripped by the dogs rushing past, and may or may not have made a face-plant snow angel as I squeaked in distress. But I was back on my feet before Jane looked back at me, so there is no ev
idence of it.

  I opened the door for her then when she set the stack of presents down to shrug out of her replacement leather jacket, she called out, “Oh Winnie, I'm home.”

  My chuckling mom called out, “Hello, sweetie.”

  I moved her coat to a proper peg labeled 'guest,' and arranged her snowy boots neatly below it on a mat. Growling at her amusement since I know she doesn't use the proper peg on purpose. When I stood, I eeped when I came face to chest with her. I whispered, “Personal space.”

  A finger on my chin lifted my gaze to hers, and I swallowed at the compassion I saw there as it ignited a flame deep inside me. She wasn't playing anymore. She whispered with a surety and conviction that seemed so surreal to me, “I love you, Finnegan.”

  I closed my eyes and mentally traced the delicious tremor that raced to my core whenever she said my full name. I could hear a naked truth in her words, deeper than her normal, emotionally guarded tone. I opened my eyes, and the stupid things were all watery as I whispered, “I love you too Jane.”

  I noted the silence, other than the dogs who were still trying to get Jane to acknowledge them. The fuzzy traitors dumped me as Alpha and looked to her as their Alpha whenever she was in the room. I glared into the living room at all the smiling faces, Becky and mom looking like they were going to start hugging themselves over our whispering admissions. I narrowed an eye and brought my hand up to my chin and pointed at them menacingly.

  Jane was oblivious to it all as she crouched to give the dogs some scritches and thumps. “Hey, kids.”

  Everyone looked far too innocent when she stood to acknowledge the others while we moved into the living room, flipping everyone off as she said to mom, “Winnie, shield your eyes.”

  Then she gave out reluctant hugs. Though she had no problems touching me, every chance she got, Jane had a strange hangup about touching people, especially affectionately. I could tell she felt it made her vulnerable, and the take charge and closely guarded woman didn't like that.

  Tough.

  My growing eclectic family were all huggers, and she'd just have to pull up her big girl panties and take it. Well, all huggers except Garrett, because being all mushy isn't manly. He's such a pretty boy snowflake. He gave me a goofy look to me in challenge as he hugged Jane and released her quickly lest the two catch fire. We always knew what each other were thinking. It's a twin thing.

  I pulled Jane by the hand to the love seat to sit as I told her, “There, the physical and emotional torture is over, you big baby. How was your day?”

  Jess asked in a strange, almost wistful, humor-filled tone, “Yeah Five-O, did you 'wrap up' that 'case'?”

  If looks could kill, the one Jane shot Jess would have knocked her flat. What was that all about?

  Kerry chuckled at that and said, “On that note, I'll go grab the packages from the car.” She stood and started toward the door, reaching her hand absently behind her and deftly caught the keys which Jess lobbed at her back. Those two were so in tune it was sweet. I just wish the two bullheaded twits would just admit they were in a committed relationship. They were both cowards.

  Jane pointedly explained to everyone except Jessie, “Got done faster than I anticipated, otherwise I would have come with you ladies.” Then she said without looking at Jess while she leaned forward to snag a cookie and glass of milk from the tray. “Zip it, Red.”

  Mom kept looking at me as we all had a grand time, laughing and visiting and sharing current events in our lives like we did every holiday or weekend. It was a rare occurrence anymore if one of our group didn't make it to the weekly dinners mom prepared for us.

  This was special. This was our annual Christmas Eve get together. The first one with Rebecca, Jess, and Jane. It was almost surreal that Kerry, my childhood friend was back in my life after so many years, and it was like she had never left. She had attended so many of these Christmas dinners with my family when we were growing up.

  My mind drifted to a particular Christmas with dad. His last Christmas. He had been feeling a little better during the holidays between chemo sessions which always knocked him on his ass, enough so that he said we should all go out to New York City... to Central Park as a family to have a magical Christmas together.

  What Gar and I didn't know at the time was that he was feeling better because he had decided to stop the chemo treatments when cancer had metastasized to his other organs, and there was no more hope. He wanted one last holiday with his family before he was too weak to get out of bed, without the sickness he felt during chemo.

  He showed us the magic of New York City after a fresh snow. I think it is where my love of the city, my wonder of it came from. I think he was trying to tell us more than his words were saying, but we were just kids at the time, and the deeper meaning behind them was lost on us. All I knew was that my dad was feeling better and it was the most magical Christmas ever. We were happy.

  At one point, he and I took a sleigh ride while mom and Gar looked at some amazing snow sculptures on the Sheep Meadow. He had shared with me wistfully as I snuggled into him under a blanket in the sleigh, watching the wonder of the city so large I couldn't even imagine, “I love the City, Tempe. It connects us to millions of others, becoming part of the heartbeat that makes this one of the greatest places in the world. And right in the middle of the seething masses is this place of tranquility. This park shows the impossible is always possible, and that we all have that same core of tranquility deep inside us.”

  As a stupid kid, I had just asked, eyes wide, “Even in me?”

  He had choked back a sob and placed his hand on my breastbone and nodded. “Can't you feel it, baby girl? The connection? Promise me, when life gets too overwhelming, just go to that tranquil place and you will never be alone.”

  I was worried I had upset him with my question, and I started arranging the blanket on us so that the plaid stripes were parallel with the floor of the sleigh. I didn't want to upset him again, so I just nodded in promise. I snuggled in again and said the only thing I knew wouldn't cause those sad eyes again, “Love you, daddy.”

  He had smiled at me with so much love as he replied, hugging me tighter to him, “Love you too, pumpkin.”

  He was gone a short few months later.

  I think maybe that's why Manhattan is my home now, with my life centered around Central Park, like there is an irresistible gravity to it which I orbit. It is where I find my tranquility in a city that is always moving, always changing in the chaotic dance of life. It is where my father was trying to share something with his children that was so deep they didn't quite grasp it yet. But I get it now. And it helps me whenever I'm feeling overwhelmed. In case you haven't noticed, I don't handle stress gracefully and I tend a little toward the obsessive-compulsive at times.

  Oh, shut up, I'm not OCD... ish.

  I glanced around the room, at all the ghosts I saw every time I visited. Of dad hanging stockings on the fireplace mantle. Of him chasing me away from the vacuum when I was cleaning the rug for the third time in a day, and chuckling that I needed to get out in the fresh air with Gar. Of him in his recliner reading the paper and putting that stupid pipe in his teeth which he never smoked.

  Mom said it was an inside joke with them, but they never explained.

  Of mom and dad on the couch with Garrett and I splayed across their laps covered in blankets as we watched old musicals on TV, while I sorted the popcorn kernels by size.

  They were happy ghosts, and I took comfort in them.

  I looked out the window.

  For sale.

  Chapter 3 – Gifts

  Mom had finally pulled me aside, up to my old bedroom. It seemed a portrait of my life in Liberty, a snapshot of who I was, before becoming who I am. By the sacred squeaky toy, could I have been any more of a teen before I went out on my own? It looked like a snapshot in time, unchanged. I shook my head with a smile at some of the posters of pop stars I had on the walls, hung up using the le
vel mom bought me along with my first label maker.

  It always bothered me that the floors were not level in my room, the posters were level but looked slightly off because of the floor that sloped a half inch from end to end in the room. Everyone I point it out to says they can't see it, but I knew it was always there, mocking me.

  I cocked my head at my posters and said, “Huh,” as I looked at them when we sat on the edge of my twin bed. I see what Jess had shared with me recently, that I was pansexual and didn't really realize it until Jane stole my heart. I guess I always have been flirty with men and women and I had my posters arranged by crushability, and half of them were female pop stars. For me, it comes down to cute being sexy. I heart me some cute, and cute and sexy have no gender.

  I could see it plain as day now, but had been blind to it my whole life. It is somewhat disconcerting coming to terms with your sexuality when it wasn't what you had assumed it to be your entire life.

  I believe it is the problem with the binary box we are raised in, you are only presented with one path, and expected to walk down it as it is the one most traveled. So you do what is expected without question, and to vary from those expectations means that labels are applied to you because you are seen as not normal. And as much as my relationship with my label maker is a thing of legends when it came to people, I have always hated labels.

  Well, except the Jerk Cop label I printed for Jane. She deserved that. She has it taped across her nameplate on her desk at the precinct now.

  I looked at mom and almost chuckled. I saw so much of me in her at times, now I know where I get it. The look on her face of trying to figure out where to begin was like looking in a mirror. I hoped the years would be just as kind to me like her. She was stunning. I could see my older self in her, only she was tall. Huh, both dad and mom are tall, and Garett is tall, so how did I wind up getting the short end of the stick?