Page 13 of The 24th Hour

Tonight it worked.

I walked into a place that was warm and alive with Dean Martin singing “Volare,” his voice filling the loft-sized room, accompanied by my husband’s glorious baritone. Martha, my elderly border collie and pal since before I met and married Joe Molinari, woofed at the sound of the door opening and welcomed me inside.

I shouted, “Mommy’s home!” as I stowed and locked mygun in the case in the foyer. Then I stooped to gather my five-year-old daughter, Julie, and Martha together into a noisy hug before walking to the kitchen area where Joe was making something with pesto sauce. We hugged and kissed, and after I took a peek inside the pot on the stove, he put a glass of Cabernet in my hand and we all headed to the sofa at the far side of the room.

The next few hours went by way too fast.

We talked, laughed, ate. If dinner had been only half as good, it would have gotten five stars. Julie had made cookies with Mrs. Rose, our neighbor and part-time nanny. Once the cookies had turned into a plate of chocolate crumbs, I took our little girl into her bedroom.

I read to her and then she told me a story that she made up as she went along. Allie the Alligator had a toothache, and he had to go to the dentist.

I asked, “So what happens?”

Julie said, “Allie might eat the dentist, maybe.”

Joe was listening at the doorway. He said to Julie, “If Allie does eat the dentist, does he have an escape plan?”

“Oooh,” said Julie. “Escape plan? I know. He grows wings!”

Joe said, “Really good, Julie Bug.” He walked into the room and we both kissed Julie good night and Joe said he’d take Martha for a walk.

Good. Great. I wanted a shower and I was going to have one.

When Joe came back with Martha, he woke me up. I’d fallen asleep on the bed, still wearing my clothes.

“I just lay down for a second,” I mumbled to Joe.

“Stand up,” Joe said, using his law enforcement voice. I struggled to my feet.

“Arms up,” he said.

I held up my arms like a child and let Joe peel off my clothes. He had some trouble with the hooks of my bra, and I laughed at him.

“I’m out of practice,” he said.

“Try again. I’m begging you. I can’t get my hands around that far.”

“Tough day, hmmm?”

“I can be talked into telling you all about it.”

“Later. Take your shower or don’t. Up to you.”

I left the room, promising that I would be quick, but it felt so good to stand under the hot water, I struggled with turning off the taps. When I was finally steeped and steam-cleaned, I stepped out of the shower stall and shuffled into the bedroom semi-draped in a hand towel.

Joe was in bed, lights out, but I could see him by street light. I dropped the towel and slid under the covers and my G-man pulled me close. I put my arms around him and he kissed me between my neck and shoulder.

“You feel so good,” he said.

I reached up to kiss him, but he put his hands on my shoulders and held me back. I looked into his eyes.

“I love you, Lindsay,” he said. “All the way.”

“Prove it,” I said.

I can’t be sure why our lovemaking only gets better. I wasn’t thinking anymore that night. I was lost in Joe, somewhere near heaven.

CHAPTER 11

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