Page 102 of On a Deadline

“Don’t tell my captain.” Erin grinned, then stole the last cookie.

They cleaned up together. Jamie rinsed, Erin loaded the dishwasher like itwas a science. A text buzzed on Erin’s counter; she flicked it silent and took Jamie’s plate from her hands.

“How was your day?” she asked.

“Good. PTA bake sale. A mural in Dorchester. My bakery guy gave me a bag of day-olds I’m definitely not supposed to take on camera.” Jamie smiled. “It felt nice.”

Erin leaned a hip against the counter. “You’ve been lighter lately.”

“I feel lighter,” Jamie said. “I think we’re getting better at not borrowing trouble.”

“Progress,” Erin said.

Jamie’s phone buzzed next. She glanced at it, then turned it facedown. “Desk wants a quick hit on a small fire near the Pike. They don’t need me.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” Jamie smiled. “I used to think saying yes to everything made me a better reporter. Now I think saying yes to the right things might make me a better person.”

Erin laughed. “Look at you, all wise and balanced.”

“I read it on a tea bag,” Jamie said.

They moved to the couch. Leo sprawled across both of them, heavy and warm. The lamp cast a soft gold circle over the half-done puzzle, a lighthouse against a storm.

“What’s this one supposed to be?” Jamie asked, pointing at the box.

“Metaphor,” Erin said.

“For what?”

“Take your pick.”

Jamie laughed and clicked a piece into place. The quiet that followed was steady and familiar.

“I told Harper about the anchor thing,” Jamie said. “The big career, happy family version of me I used to picture.”

“And?”

“She said I don’t have to figure it out yet. That I can want things and still wait to see if they fit.”

“She’s right,” Erin said.

Jamie hesitated. “You okay if I still want too much sometimes?”

Erin reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. “Yeah. Want as much as you want. I’m not a quota. I’m just here.”

Jamie smiled. “I can work with that.”

They talked a while longer, traded stories, finished the puzzle’s border. Erin told her about a misprinted sign at work that had the entire precinct calling the sergeant Chief Clams. Jamie told her about a kid who gave her a tour of his school and introduced her to every class pet like royalty. They laughed until Leo grumbled at them for disrupting his nap.

When Jamie’s segment replayed on the muted TV, Erin caught her own grin reflected in the window. Jamie looked proud again, sure of herself and grounded. Erin’s chest ached in the best way.

Later, they took Leo out for a short walk. The air bit cold but clean, the city humming around them. They bumped shoulders at the crosswalk. Small, easy things.

Back inside, Erin started the kettle while Jamie changed into one of her shirts. Leo circled his bed and flopped down with a groan.

“You ever think about the park?” Jamie asked as they got into bed.