“It’s just that, you know, it seemed so important to you. My keen police brain tells me there’s more to the story. Talk to me, Ronni.”

“Okay. I was asked to write a novel based on the life of a woman I knew at Fairfield Springs. I thought I could do it. I can’t. End of story.” I jumped up with the sheet wrapped around me. “I’m going to feed Halle. You want anything?”

“Nope. Hurry back.” He offered me one of his melt-your-knees smiles and patted the bed.

I brought him a brown sugar cinnamon Pop Tart to share, along with a Diet Coke.

Rick laughed and drawled, “Do you know how much this means to me after years with various versions of Miss Bean Sprout Tofu Kale?”

“I’ll feed you all the junk food you want if you promise to pay me in hot monkey policeman love.”

Rick grabbed my sheet-toga and pulled me on top of him, locking his eyes on mine. “This,” he announced, “is what you get for half a Pop Tart.”

I made a mental note to pick up a box.

The next morning I woke to find him removing his neatly-hung uniform from my closet. I wondered if I could coexist with someone so creased, polished and organized.

“I’m late,” he said, pausing to kiss me as he buttoned his shirt. “I’ll pick you up at six for dinner. Fancy. Dress up. Champagne.” He reached for his shoes and said, “Whoa, what’s this?”

Rick held up a battered, dirty doll with short gray curly hair and fake wire-rimmed eyeglasses.

“That,” I answered, “is Mrs. Noodle. Closest thing to a mother I had as a child.”

“You kept her all these years.” He sank onto the bed and placed the doll beside me. “I guess you two went through a lot together.”

I was horrified to find I was crying. Rick wrapped me in his arms. “You know, Ronni,” he said, “She’ll be getting out soon. Are you sure you don’t want to meet with her?”

I swiped at my eyes. “I’m positive. I’ll never forgive what she did to me. Even the idea of seeing Jocelyn makes me feel sick. I was an unwanted, unworthy, disposable child. I hate myself when I think how little I meant to her, Rick. I tried,” I sobbed, “I tried so hard to take care of her...”

“Take a deep breath, Ronni,” Rick held me at arm’s length and searched my eyes. “You don’t have to see her.”

“That’s good, because I think I would split wide open.”

He kissed the top of my head and slid his bear-paw hands down my arms to grasp and squeeze mine. “See you at six.”

“Be safe!” I yelled at his back.

“Always,” he answered.