Karen Rose - Count to Ten

"She's not a little girl anymore, Reed."

"So you keep telling me." He cast a wistful look up at the ceiling. Just a few months before, nothing could have pried Beth from the Monday night game. But now she always excused herself after dinner, saying she had studying to do.

"I never thought growing up meant she"d start disliking all the things we used to like."

Lauren shot him a sympathetic look. "You've had it easy. A girl who could tackle, jump, and check as well as any boy. But tomboys grow up and start liking frilly stuff."

"Tomboy" made him think of Mia Mitchell and her "comfy" hat. "Not all tomboys. You should meet my new partner."

Lauren eyes widened with surprise. "You hired a woman down at OFI?"

"No, she's a homicide detective."

She grimaced. "Ooh. Nasty."

Reed thought about Caitlin Burnette. lying in the morgue. "You have no idea."

"So tell me more. What's the new chick like?"

Reed gave her a censorious look. "If I called her a chick, you'd hit me."

Lauren grinned. "That's what I love about you. You're such a smart man. So dish."

"She's an athletic kind of woman." Who'd been able to respond to every challenge thrown her way that day, whether it was a grieving father, a two-hundred pound crackhead, or an arrogant baby lawyer. She'd dealt. Very capably, in fact. "That's all."

Lauren rolled her eyes. "That's all. So what's her name?"

"Mitchell."

Again her eyes rolled. " Herfirst name."

"Mia." And he found he liked the sound of it. It suited her. "She's a real pistol."

"And? Is she a blonde, brunette, redhead? Short, tall?"

It was his turn to roll his eyes. "A blonde. And small." The top of her head barely reached his shoulder. His shoulder twitched as the image flashed into his mind of her blond head resting there. Like that would ever happen . Somehow he couldn't see Mia Mitchell leaning on anyone. That the thought had even crossed his mind was disturbing in and of itself. Don't even consider going there, Solliday. She's not for you .

Lauren had sobered. "Too small to watch your back?"

In his mind he saw her taking down DuPree. "She'll be fine."

Lauren was watching him carefully. "She obviously made an impression on you."

"She's my partner, Lauren. That's all."

"That's all," she mimicked. "I'm never going to have any more nieces and nephews."

Now his mouth dropped open. "What? Whatever made you think you would?" He shook his head. "Have your own babies. Not me. Not again. I'm too old."

"You are not old. You just act like it. When was the last time you were out on a real date? And not a meeting with one of Beth's teachers or a visit to the dental hygienist."

"Thanks for reminding me. I need to schedule a teeth cleaning."

Her fist shot out of the suds to sock his arm. "I'm serious."

He rubbed his arm. "Ow. You keep hurting me tonight."

"Well, you keep pissing me off. When, Reed? When was your last date?"

That he'd entered into willingly? Sixteen years ago when he'd taken Christine out for coffee after the classical poetry class he'd dreaded until the night he'd met her. Afterward she'd read her own poetry, just to him, and he'd lost his heart right then and there. "Lauren, I'm tired. I've had a long day. Leave me alone."

She was undeterred. "You haven't had a date since… Christmas three years ago."

He shuddered. "Don't remind me. Beth hated her." So did I .

"Beth's support is important. But you're a young man. One of these days Beth will be grown and you'll be alone." Her mouth drooped. "I don't want you to be alone."

Her words hit him hard, the picture of Beth grown and gone too real in his mind. But Lauren cared. So Reed swallowed back a curt command for her to mind her own business and kissed the top of her head. "I like my life, Lauren. Get Beth some jeans that don't make her look twenty-five, okay?" He retreated, her glare boring into his back.

Upstairs, the loud pounding of Beth's music assaulted his ears through her bedroom door. This, he supposed, along with everything else, was part of her growing up. Still, he wished it weren't happening so fast. He knocked on the door, hard. "Beth?"

The music abruptly stopped and the puppy yapped. "Yeah?"

"I just wanted to talk to you, honey."

The door opened and her dark head poked out high, the puppy's low. "Yeah?"

Reed blinked and suddenly had no idea of what to say. Her brows went up, then back down, bunching in a frown. "You okay, Dad?"

"I was just thinking that we hadn't done anything together in a while. Maybe this weekend we can go… to the movies or something."

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why?"

He laughed. "Because I miss you?"

Her eyes flickered. "One of my friends invited me to a sleepover this weekend."

He tried to swallow his disappointment. "Which friend?"

"Jenny Q. You met her mom at open house at the school last September."

Reed frowned. "I don't remember. I'll have to meet her again before you can go."

She rolled her eyes. " Fine . She and I are also doing a science project together for school. You can take me there tomorrow night and meet her mom then."

"I can take you? How about 'Please, Dad? And don't roll your eyes at me," he snapped when she did just that. He sighed. He hadn't come to fight with her, but it seemed to be happening a lot more lately. "I'll meet her tomorrow."

Beth's frown softened. "Thanks, Dad." She closed the door with a soft click and he stood staring for a long moment before going on to his own room.

Where he stopped and sighed. Muddy paw prints still ran across his sheets. He remade the bed, then sat on the mattress and picked up Christine's picture. Christine had been… the one. He missed her. But I like my life just the way it is . The way he'd made it. Although, sometimes he did wish there was someone to talk to in the quiet hours. And there were, he admitted, the physical aspects as well. It had been a long time since he'd been with a woman. Lauren hadn't needed to remind him of that.

He'd never sought anyone to replace Christine. What woman could? She'd brought beauty to his world, nourished his soul. But his body had needs. He'd thought, in the early years after Christine's death, that he could… vent his need discreetly with women who weren't interested in long-term relationships. He'd quickly found there were no such creatures on the planet. Every woman who'd promised no strings, had ended up needing them. And each one had been hurt because Reed was a man of his word.

Unfortunately no strings plus no hurt equaled no sex. So he'd gone without. Not pleasant, but not the end of the world everyone made it out to be. There was discipline after all. The lessons he'd learned in the military had stood him in good stead. He liked his life. His quiet life. But tonight the quiet seemed more intense than it usually did.

He set Christine's picture down and pulled open the night-stand drawer where he'd kept the book hidden for eleven years, nestled under the stack of birthday and father's day cards. Carefully he pulled it from its place of safekeeping and caressed the cover with the pad of his thumb. It was no bigger than the palm of his hand. But so full of her. He let the hook fall open to the page that was most worn She'd called it simply "Us."

Pale shoot of golden green, supple stem and tentative leaves too new to be certain.

Held tight in a fist of craggy rock that shadows shelters.

holds the angel hair roots firm, beating back the wind, softening the drops of rain to a kiss.

Huddled against the rock's stubbly face, she unfurls her fronds, drinking in morning light.

Nourished by his mineral core, she grows lush in the life he offers her until it is unclear who saved whom.