Boston Blues - BLACKBIRD book 2

15. down the harborwalk

**picture: Fan Pier harborwalk, Boston

Protected from the chilling wind by their warmest winter clothes, enjoying the sun showing up for the first time in ages, Andrea and Brock strolled down the harborwalk around the Fan Pier Park. It was actually the first time he'd taken any time for a walk like this since he was transferred to Boston, and doing it with Andrea felt just perfect. The balm and the painkillers kept the lesion as just a discomfort that allowed him to enjoy the moment.

"Lieutenant Gillian gave you the whiskey, right?" asked Andrea out of the blue.

Seasoned survivor of countless life-or-death situations, Brock managed to keep from tripping on his own feet and faced her with a mild questioning scowl.

Andrea shrugged. "It figures," she said, and added, "I like her. I mean, for you."

Brock scoffed, but he was serious when he replied, "Andrea, you like the idea of me socializing, and she's the only woman you've met here that would match your mental projections for me. And you liked her son, which makes her a more attractive option for you. But you're jumping to conclusions. What she did last night was a professional acknowledgment, and it doesn't mean feelings, or attraction. What's more, it doesn't even imply getting along."

"What, you don't like her?"

"The lack of attraction doesn't mean I don't like her. I just don't like her the way you'd want me to."

Andrea nodded slowly, a little smile still pursing her lips, and they walked for a whole minute in silence.

"You know this is the first time you've ever talked to me like a grownup?" she said.

"Really?"

Andrea saw his frowning smile and nodded, chuckling. "Really. Feels good. But I don't like Connor."

"Sure you don't."

"Now you're being ironic."

"I would never."

Andrea poked his arm and faked a scowl. He smiled wider.

"So you guys don't get along?"

"You've met her, right? You've talked to her," he said, as if that was all the proof he needed to make his case.

"Saw you two dancing. You looked good together."

"Oh, well, I saw you dancing too, young lady. And I'm afraid I can't say the same."

"One day I'm gonna have a boyfriend, Dad. Despite your frown and your gun."

They laughed softly, but Brock noticed Andrea had more to say. And if she was right, and this was the first time they were having a kind of adult conversation, he had to admit it didn't feel awkward. And he wanted Andrea to know she had room to talk about anything she might need.

"I liked it last night, seeing you with Agent Coleman and Lieutenant Gillian's team," she said, and anticipated him. "I know what you're about to say. Yes, I know they're not your friends, you were only being civil. But... I don't know, Dad, it's been such a long time since I last saw you smile at anybody but me."

Since Georgia's death. They didn't need to clarify that.

"And that bothers you."

"It burdens me, Dad."

He swallowed his surprise at such a significant correction. Andrea wrapped her arm around his and stuck to his side with a heartfelt sigh.

"I need to know I don't have to be there for you to be able to smile, you know?"

"Like last night." He nodded, staying on the most immediate and superficial aspect of what she'd said.

"Like last night when you were dancing with Lieutenant Gillian. That was your first honest smile in the whole evening without me being around."

Brock took a moment to review his memories from the gala. "Really?"

Andrea saw he meant his question and nodded. Brock scoffed again.

"Well, you should see us at work."

"No smiles."

"Nope."

"You two fight over things?"

"You may say so, yes."

"Well, you know what they say about those who start off fighting."

"There's no winning with you, right?"

"Sorry, I'm a Brockner."

Brock laughed and kissed her hair. "I love you, child."