"Mina, your mom is still pretty young. Why shouldn't she have a sex life?"

"Oh, God, don't say those two words in the same sentence."

"What two words?"

"Mom and sex. It gives me the creeps."

Rosetti shook her head.

"What if this was your mom?"

Rosetti laughed. "My mom's way past her prime...Anyway, my dad always said it was a miracle that my brothers and I were ever conceived. He said my mom got dressed and undressed in the closet every night. I don't think the whole time they were married, he ever saw her totally naked."

"Oh, my God. That's hilarious," I said, laughing at the thought of Teresa Rosetti fumbling around in a closet somewhere.

Rosetti laughed, too.

"My momma is a good Catholic girrrrl," Rosetti said.

"And I suppose she raised you to be a good Catholic girl, too."

"Absolutely. She sent me to an all girls Catholic school for twelve years, didn't she?"

"And I can imagine the havoc you wreaked there."

We were laughing uncontrollably now, tears streaming from the corners of our eyes.

"What are you saying?" Rosetti asked with mocked innocence.

"You...and all those girls...in uniforms?"

"Sounds like heaven, doesn't it?"

"Rosetti, was there ever a time when you weren't girl crazy?"

Rosetti shook her head. "To be honest with you, I think when I was born, they had to move me out of the regular nursery because I kept trying to get in bed with all the baby girls."

"You're sick." I slapped her on the shoulder.

Rosetti laughed. "See, even all that Catholic education couldn't turn me straight. You know, I bet if the church knew about me, I'd surely be excommunicated."

Rosetti's comment made me sad because I knew in my heart she spoke the truth.

Rosetti helped me clean up the kitchen. "I better get going," she said as she grabbed a Diet Coke from the refrigerator. "We've got a staff commander meeting before we go to the stakeout."

"Please be careful. You're wearing your bulletproof vest when you're out there, aren't you?"

"Yes, Mother Caselli," Rosetti thumped her chest, acknowledging the vest's presence.

"I don't want anything to happen to you, and I'm sure Linda doesn't want anything to happen to you, either."

Linda was Rosetti's on-again-off-again girlfriend. She was one of the dispatchers from Rosetti's old precinct in Cleveland. Their long-distance relationship had taken a few hits over the past few years since Rosetti moved from Cleveland to Youngstown to take care of her ailing mother, but overall, they knew they loved each other.

"Nothing's going to happen," Rosetti said. "I'm a trained professional, remember?"

"Yes, Rambo, I'm aware of all your training and marksmanship awards, but you're not dealing with the most upstanding citizens, you know."

"Mina, you worry too much, and I love you for that." Rosetti kissed me on the forehead. I knew she was fooling around, but I couldn't ignore the tingle of excitement that stirred in my belly.

Suddenly, Rosetti got serious. "I'm very careful about what I do out there so nothing goes wrong. But if something does happen, promise me one thing."

"Sure. Anything."

"Promise me that you'll look after my mother."

Although Rosetti tried not to make a big deal out of it, I could tell by the tone in her voice that she was sincere.

"Of course I'd look after Teresa. I love her like she's my own mother. And after my mother's little stunt today, I wish she was my mother," I said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Thanks, Mina. You're a great friend."

Friends. That's what Rosetti and I were, just friends.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow," I said. "I'm going to Sean's tomorrow morning to get his dad settled and admitted to hospice, then I'm back on duty in the ER at six in the evening for a twelve-hour shift."

"Get some rest. You're gonna need it with that schedule." Rosetti headed out the door.

The smell of burnt pizza hung in the air as I shut off the kitchen light. I sat on the couch and turned on the TV for some distraction. So much was going on. The evening news didn't help much and "Jeopardy!" was a rerun, so I turned off the TV and lay on the couch. I prayed that Rosetti would be safe, that Ed's battle with cancer would not be long and painful, and that God would give Sean the strength to get through his father's inevitable death. And then like every night for the last five years, before I drifted off to sleep, I prayed that Regan would come back.

CHAPTER THREE.

The ambulance was already in the driveway by the time I got to Sean's house. The back door of the rig was wide open, but it was empty. As I let myself in through the porch, I could hear the swoosh of the oxygen compressor at work. I peered around the corner to find Sean and two paramedics lifting Ed from the gurney onto his new hospital bed.

Sean kept his promise and had converted his spacious living room into an efficient hospital room for Ed. The brilliant morning sunlight gave the room a surreal glow.

"Good morning," I said as I entered the room. Ed waved weakly from his bed. The hiss of oxygen flowing through the clear plastic cannula attached to his nose filled the room. He looked paler now than he did in the hospital. He could barely hold his head up. I walked over to him and touched his hand.

"How're you doin', Dad?"

Ed shook his head. "Not so good. I feel like I got hit by a truck."

"It's the effects from the chemo and the radiation," I said. "You should feel a little stronger in a few days."

"They gave him a shot of Procrit and two units of blood this morning before they sent him home," Sean said.

"Good. That should help perk him up a little. You gotta eat too, Dad," I said.

"Eat. Who feels like eating? I can't taste anything...what's the use?"

"I brought breakfast." I held up a bag of Krispy Kreme doughnuts.

"You sure know the way to an old cop's heart," Ed said with a weak smile.

"Thanks for your help, guys." I offered the paramedics a doughnut as they packed up their gear. They each took a cream stick, then headed out through the front door.

"I'll get us some plates and put on some coffee." I headed for the kitchen. Sean followed.

"How's he doin'?" I asked as I took the doughnuts from the white paper bag and stacked them in a pyramid on a plate.

Sean shook his head. "I didn't think he was going to make it home."

"He's pretty sick. And with the all the medication he's getting, it's no wonder he doesn't just keel over."

"He's a tough guy. I've got to give him that much," Sean said, taking a bite of a cream stick. "Mmm...these are good."

I poured some coffee into a cup and took a doughnut in to Ed. "Here, Dad, try this," I said, breaking off a piece for him and placing it between his dry cracked lips. Ed chewed briefly and began to cough and choke.

"Sean, quick, get me some water," I shouted into the kitchen as I held Ed forward trying to assist him in breathing.

Ed sputtered and coughed. He took small sips of the water Sean brought and slowly his breathing improved.

"Sorry about that," I said.

"It's okay...not your fault."

"I'll make you some Cream of Wheat or something," I said.

Ed made a face.

"You have to eat, Dad...to keep up your strength," Sean said.

Ed closed his eyes and pretended he didn't hear Sean. I went back into the kitchen to rummage through Sean's cupboards for some oatmeal or Cream of Wheat, something smooth that Ed could swallow. The only thing I found was a mangled opened box of Frosted Blueberry Pop Tarts and a loaf of Wonder Bread that could easily be mistaken for a science experiment.

"Sean, I need to go to the store," I said. "There's nothing here your dad can eat."

"I'll go," Sean said eagerly. "It will give me a chance to get out of here for a while."

I didn't argue with him because I knew how hard being here with Ed in this condition was for him. "Okay. Here's what we need: chicken broth, honey, tea, Cream of Wheat cereal, a loaf of bread, and cranberry juice. Can you remember all that or do you want me to write it down?"

"I'll remember." Sean picked up his car keys. "I'll be back soon. Oh, by the way, the hospice nurse is supposed to come by sometime this morning to admit him. If she gets here before I get back, just start without me. You know just as much about Dad's case as I do. You can catch me up on all the details when I get back," Sean said over his shoulder as he left.

I went back into the living room to check on Ed. He was sound asleep. His respirations were harsh and labored and his skin felt hot. I took his temperature by sticking a thermometer into his armpit. It was one hundred two degrees. Not a good sign.

I went into the bathroom and found some clean towels and the plastic bath basin that was sent home with Ed from the hospital. I filled the basin with cool water and grabbed a bar of soap from the bathroom sink to give Ed a sponge bath to try to bring down his temperature. I gently washed his face and hands. When I removed his hospital gown, I fought back tears of anger and sadness. What a terrible disease this was that it could ravage a strong handsome man like Ed and turn him into a human skeleton.

I soaped up the washcloth and gave him a good bath followed by a relaxing foot massage. As I was putting a clean hospital gown on Ed, the doorbell rang.

"C'mon in, it's open," I shouted as I finished dressing Ed and put a clean top sheet and blanket on his bed. I gathered the dirty linen from the floor and tossed it into the hamper in the bathroom, then headed into the kitchen to greet Sean's visitor.

"Hello," I called out as I entered the kitchen.

My heart stopped at the sight of her, and by the look on her face, her heart had stopped, as well. After all, it had been five years since Regan and I had seen each other.

CHAPTER FOUR.

Regan Martin stood before me in my ex-husband's kitchen. I don't know what shocked me more: seeing her again after she abruptly ended our affair five years earlier or her protruding belly. It was obvious that I wasn't the last person she'd slept with.

"Mina, how are you?" Regan asked softly.

"I'm fine...I...can't...I...how are you?" I asked bewildered.

Regan smiled. "I'm good. I bet I was the last person you thought you'd run into this morning."

I nodded.

"When they assigned me this case, I thought maybe Ed was a relative," Regan said. "I wasn't sure, though, they didn't give me much information, only that he had terminal lung cancer."

"Ed is Sean's father," I said.

"I see. I hope it's okay that I'm here. If this makes you or Sean uncomfortable, I can get another nurse to take over."

"No...no...this is fine...you're fine...I mean..."

The wounds that had taken years to heal burst open in my chest. The pain of losing her came rushing back as if it were yesterday. I plopped down onto one of the kitchen chairs. "I just can't believe you're here...Do you know how long it's been? Did you know I tried to find you?"

Regan looked down, obviously not knowing what to say. "Maybe I better go," she whispered.

"No...don't go, please don't go. Here, come here and sit down." I got up and pulled a chair out for Regan to sit on.

"Can I get you something to drink? I just made some coffee."

"No, thank you," Regan said as she slowly crossed the room. "I can't drink coffee anymore because..." Her voice trailed off as she pointed at her belly. She sat at the kitchen table and pulled some folders from her briefcase and laid them on the table.

"You're pregnant...yes, of course...how stupid of me...I should know that...could I get you anything else? Water? Soda?"

"No, I'm fine. Thank you," Regan said with a smile that still lit up my heart now as much as ever.