Page 60 of Complicated Past

“Why do you always blow off that suggestion? And don’t try to blame it on your job because I’m not buying that bull crap.” She moderated her language as Jalen emerged from the bathroom.

“Because I don’t know what to do. I never had a father. No offense, but yours didn’t count.”

“It’s not like I learned much from our mother or even from Grams. It was people like Mrs. Shannon. Parenting classes I took through DSS. And your boss’s wife, Stephanie, who threw that baby shower for me. Not only did they supply me with clothes and diapers, but the women who came also wrote down parenting tips on cards. Simple things like ‘never wake asleeping baby’ and ‘ways to deal with a two-year-old’s tantrums.’ I’ve even learned from you.” She poked a finger in Linc’s chest.

“Me?”

“Yes. I have to be both mother and father. Sometimes I get jealous because, insomesituations,” she qualified, “you’re better with Jalen than I am.”

“I am not.”

“Yes, you are. Maybe we didn’t have role models growing up, but you’ve had them in the military. I envy your relationship with men like your Chief Lundgren.”

He’d learned a lot from the chief and others regarding work. About responsibility. Leadership. About being a team player—a family.

“I don’t tell you often enough how proud I am of the man that you are. You think you’re not up to being a parent,” she laughed. “What does that say aboutmyqualifications? I may not be perfect, but counseling helped me learn that it’s okay, and to stop negative self-talk. I learn as I go and try not to repeat the same mistakes. And I think I’m doing a pretty damn good job.”

Jalen gasped. “Mommy swore.” He waved a finger at her.

“I did. I’m sorry. But your uncle won’t admit he’s wrong. It’s one of his faults.” Bri got Jalen’s lunch box from the refrigerator and loaded it into his camouflage backpack.

“Oneof my faults? What are the others?” Seeing his sister’s spunky side return—even at his expense—made things feel normal after the stress of the past few days.

“You walk away at the first sign of rejection.”

“Hey, I?—”

“I get it. It’s a defense mechanism—and healthier than what I did to be accepted and dull the pain. You knew the odds of passing that qualification course to join Special Ops. You worked your butt off, so you’d pass the first time because you didn’t want to be ‘rejected.’ Now look at you. You’re one of the best of thebest. You’re not perfect,” she raised an eyebrow, “but any woman would be lucky to have you. And so would any child.” She’d softened her tone. “But, be warned, your future wife will have to pass muster withme.” She winked.

“How many other faults do you want to expound on? Because I don’t want Jalen to be late for school?” And he needed out of this conversation.

“We’ll pick it up later.”

Why had he given her that opening? “I’ll be back to take you and Regina to the police station when you’re ready.” Linc hustled Jalen toward the door.

“Can we listen to Bluey music in the car?” Jalen asked.

“I don’t have that kind of music on my playlist,” Linc said.

“I’ll send you my playlist of his favorite songs.” Amusement laced Bri’s voice. “You’ll love it. ‘Baby Shark’ is on there and ‘The Gummy Bear Song.’”

He’d try to remember to delete his play history later because he’d give this kid—and his sister—most anything they wanted.

TWENTY-ONE

Clara greeted them inside the police station. “Mrs. Feldman, Officer Logan will take your statement, and I’ll take yours, Brianne.”

“You can come with me,” Officer Logan said politely and led Regina to his desk.

“Can I get you a cup of coffee or some water?” Clara asked.

“I could use some water.” Bri twisted her hands together.

“I’ll take a coffee.” Linc touched Bri’s upper back, hoping to calm her nerves.

Clara motioned for Linc to follow her as well. “We’ll use this interview room for privacy.” She opened the door to a room off the main squad room and motioned Bri in. “I’ll grab the water. Since it’s police station coffee, you can come with me and fix it how you want it,” she said to Linc.

Once they were in the small break room, he poured a coffee and added creamer. “Thanks for not calling it an interrogation room.”

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