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Tamara has eyes. She’s always had eyes.
Officer Bradford is difficult to like. He’s white, he’s male, he’s in a position of authority. It’s in Tamara’s very nature to distrust him. More often than not, Lucy’s stories are filled with complaints about Tim that makes Tamara confused as to why she even puts up with him.
But it doesn’t take Tamara very long to realise that Bradford and Chen are a package deal. Lucy might complain about him, but she’s always smiling when she does it. Tamara can’t fathom it. Why Lucy, who is all about healthy practices and mental enrichment, would allow a guy like Tim Bradford to stick around in her life is beyond her.
It kind of takes an embarrassing amount of time for Tamara to warm up to Tim. She’s hanging out at the front of the station, mindlessly staring at her math homework and waiting for Lucy to get off shift, when a familiar figure approaches her.
“Tamara,” says Tim Bradford, eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing here? Everything okay?”
He’s not in uniform, which is totally weird. He’s way less intimidating out of uniform. Almost like a normal human person.
Tamara gestures to the doors with her pencil.
“I’m, uh, waiting for Lucy. She’s giving me a ride.”
“Ah.” Tim nods, and Tamara expects that to be the end of it. But to her surprise, he tilts his head at her book. “Doing homework?”
“Um, yeah. It’s kind of hard to keep up with the other kids when you don’t really have a stable home life,” Tamara says. It’s meant to be a scathing joke, but it kind of sounds a little bit too real. Something in Tim’s expression changes.
“Look, from what Lucy tells me, you’re a fast learner. You’ll be fine.”
Tamara is stunned into silence. Kind words, from Lucy’s notoriously tough TO? What the hell is happening?
Tim seems to sense her surprise, because he shifts his grip on his bag and adds, a little awkwardly, “Your home life doesn’t have to be a reflection of who you are. Take it from me.”
As Tamara is still trying to puzzle out the complexities of that statement, Lucy appears at Tim’s side, all smiles. If she’s surprised that they’re talking, she doesn’t show it.
“Your puppy shouldn’t be here, Chen,” Tim says upon seeing her. The momentary softness in his voice has disappeared. Robot Bradford is back. “This is a police station, not the Babysitter’s Club.”
“She’s not a puppy, and quite frankly I’m amazed you’ve heard of Babysitter’s Club,” Lucy says, as Tamara gives Tim her best judgemental look. “Hey, Tamara. Ready to go?”
“Sure,” says Tamara, shoving everything in her bag. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the way Tim’s whole body posture changes to point towards Lucy, like some kind of human compass.
“I want you to memorise pages 34-42 of your rook book tonight,” he says, gruff. “I noticed some gaps in your knowledge out there today.”
Lucy frowns at him. Tamara watches them like a tennis match. Although in all honesty, this is a lot more thrilling than Wimbledon. “Seriously, Tim? I did good work today and you know it.”
“It was good,” Tim concedes. “Not great. You need to be great.”
“Grey said I did great today,” Lucy counters.
Tim rolls his eyes, digs his hands into his pockets. “And this is why we don’t praise rookies. There’s no room for ego in the shop.”
“Why can’t you just admit that I did a good job?” Lucy presses. “Is it really so hard for you?”
He shakes his head at her, already turning away to whichever is his car. Probably the truck, if he’s really that predictable.
“Bright and early tomorrow, Boot. I’ll have you run laps for every thirty seconds that you’re late.”
They watch him leave and get into the truck (she knew that was his), and Tamara stands, lugging her school bag with her.
“Wow. He’s kind of a jerk.”
“Who? Tim?” Lucy’s looking at her like she’s the crazy one. “No, he’s just—he’s just like that. You’ll get used to him.”
Privately, Tamara kind of doubts it. She knows the Bradford type. They always mean trouble.
Tamara has interactions with Tim in increments. He drops Lucy off after a late shift sometimes, never failing to walk her to the door even though Lucy is a grown woman who can take care of herself. When Lucy and Jackson host dinner parties, Tim is always invited, of course. He’s never more than five steps away from Lucy whenever Tamara goes to visit the station.
But more often than not, Tamara gets to know Tim through Lucy’s stories. Tamara’s never spoken more than five minutes to this guy, and yet she knows his favourite colour, the way he takes his coffee, what he did for Thanksgiving weekend three years ago. It’s kind of crazy, and just a little bit cute. Tamara and Jackson have bonded by sharing secret little glances at each other whenever Lucy goes on about Tim a little too much, and she’s still convinced she knows exactly what kind of person Tim Bradford is, no matter how much Lucy talks about him.
Then one late Thursday night, on arguably one of the worst nights of her life since knowing Lucy, Tamara gets to know a different side to Tim Bradford.
It’s desperation that makes her call him. Desperation, and worry.
Tim picks up on the third ring.
“Bradford speaking,” he says, and something about the steadiness of his tone makes Tamara feel a little bit better.
“Tim?”
“Tamara,” says Tim. If he’s surprised, it doesn’t show. “Everything okay?”
“I just…” Tamara takes a breath, pulling at a loose thread on her pants. “Have you heard from Lucy? We were supposed to get dinner a couple of hours ago and she’s not picking up the phone. She’s not home, either. I’m in the hallway now.”
There’s a silence from the other end that makes Tamara’s heart plummet to her feet.
“What’s wrong?” she manages, already fearing the worst. Lucy, missing. Lucy, gone. Lucy, dead.
“She’s safe, Tamara,” Tim says quickly. “She’s not home, she’s with me. She’s okay, I promise.”
“What? What’s going on, Tim?”
“Tamara…” Tim says, and she knows in that moment that whatever Tim says is going to be bad, because she’s heard that tone of voice before. A thousand times.
“Just tell me.”
“Jackson’s dead,” Tim says finally.
Oh. Oh . Tamara sinks to a seat on the floor, back against the wall, knees pressed to her chest. She’s always liked to think of herself as mature but right now she just feels like a little kid.
“Lucy’s staying with me tonight,” Tim says. “Maybe for the next couple of days, however long she wants.”
“Okay,” Tamara says, a little slowly.
“Look, you got people you can stay with?” Tim asks. “I don’t want you alone tonight. Lucy wouldn’t want that either.”
It takes Tamara a moment to realise that he’s offering. If she wants somewhere to stay, she can stay with him. And Lucy. Suddenly she wants to take back every scathing thing she’s ever said about Tim Bradford, because maybe Lucy’s kind of onto something. He’s not so bad. Which is annoying, because she hates that Lucy is always right.
“I’m okay,” she says. “I have people.”
“Send me the address,” Tim says, which startles her again. He’s so different from Lucy, who would have just trusted her word without second thought. But then Tamara remembers him saying something about family life, and thinks he might understand more than anyone might give him credit for.
“Okay,” she agrees.
They’re silent for a moment, then Tim says, “She didn’t forget about you, Tamara. She’s just in shock at the moment, and her phone is off.”
“I know,” Tamara whispers.
“She’s in the shower right now, but do you want to talk to her?”
Tamara thinks about it for a moment.
“No,” she decides. “But can I call you tomorrow? Or you get her to call me?”
“I can do that, Tamara.”
“Okay,” she says. A beat passes. “Um, thanks, Tim.”
“Just doing my job, kid,” he says, even though they’re both aware that’s a whole lie. “Don’t be afraid to call, okay? I’m just a line away if you need anything.”
“Okay,” she says. “Take care of Lucy.”
“I will,” says Tim, and she really believes it.
Things shift for them after that. Tamara starts to see Tim in a more forgiving light. She even stops rolling her eyes whenever Lucy complains about him, which seems to please Lucy a lot. Tim even helps her get the paint she needs to do up her new room. The look on Lucy’s face when she sees them walk in together with paint buckets is priceless.
Later that night they sit on the floor of her newly painted room with paper plates and greasy pizzas. Lucy’s stopped crying and now she’s telling Tim funny stories about Jackson instead. She’s on her sixth bottle of beer and she’s started repeating some of her stories, but Tim doesn’t say anything and even manages to look riveted the whole time.
Eventually Lucy succumbs to being drunk and she curls up on Tamara’s bed while Tim and Tamara clean up the plates and paint pots.
“Dibs on not carrying her to bed,” Tamara says, and Tim rolls his eyes at her but goes over and kneels by Lucy’s head anyway. Tamara leans in the doorway to watch but almost has to look away at the gentleness in which Tim pulls Lucy’s hair out of her face.
“I love you,” Lucy mumbles.
“It’s Tim here, Lucy, not Tamara,” he says without skipping a beat, even though Tamara’s this close to losing her shit.
“Tim?”
“Bedtime, Officer Chen,” he jokes. “That’s a direct order.”
That seems to spur Lucy up. He props Lucy up under his arms and guides her across the apartment to her room. Tamara, despite her dibs, grabs the other arm to help and together they tuck Lucy into her own bed.
“Sweet dreams, Lucy,” she tells her, sincerely hoping she won’t dream of Jackson tonight.
Tim doesn’t say anything, just fills a glass of water and leaves it by her bed with two aspirin.
“Make sure she takes that in the morning,” he tells Tamara. “And tell her she’s doing sit-ups at every light if she’s late tomorrow.”
Tamara thinks he’s going to brush her hair out of her face again but he just shoves his hands into his pockets and looks at Tamara instead.
“Do you want ice cream?”
She raises her eyebrows. “You know I’m not actually five years old, right?”
“So you don’t want ice cream.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t want any.”
He rolls his eyes, smirking. “You’re starting to sound just like Chen.”
They sit in the kitchen with bowls of French vanilla. Tamara’s doctored hers up with sprinkles and chocolate sauce. Tim, of course, has his plain. Because he’s boring.
“It’s not boring,” Tim says. “It’s a classic flavour. Unspoiled.”
He’s eyeing her creation like it’s some abomination. Just to annoy him, she shakes some more sprinkles into her bowl.
Tamara waits one beat, two beats, then three, before she finally musters up the courage to speak.
“Uh, thanks for today. You know. With the paint.”
Tim does something that surprises her. He smiles at her. It’s small, but it’s definitely still there. It’s weirdly kind of almost… paternal. Which, ew. This is Tim . But actually, she kind of doesn’t mind it.
“You nervous about moving in?” Tim asks.
“No,” says Tamara, surprised to find that she means it. “I’m actually not.”
“Good,” says Tim. “Lucy’s gonna take good care of you here.”
“Yeah. She’s good at that.”
“And…” Tim pauses, studying her for a second, before he relents, like it almost pains him. “And… you have my number. If you need anything.”
Tamara gives him her best shit-eating grin.
“Oh, I know,” she says.
“It’s to be used for emergencies ,” he warns. “Not as an Uber service. Or chocolate delivery.”
“Who’s to say that’s not an emergency?” she teases, and Tim’s scowl is so good that Tamara understands why Lucy gives him so much grief.
When Tim Bradford’s truck rolls into their apartment parking lot, Tamara crosses her arms and glares at Lucy.
“What?” Lucy says innocently. “We need help carrying furniture. Unless you suddenly developed the ability to bench press a mattress by yourself.”
“No,” Tamara says begrudgingly.
“So what’s the problem?”
“Tim is so… he’s such a… he’s going to embarrass me!”
Lucy stares at her for a second, and then bursts out into laughter so suddenly that Tamara almost jumps out of her skin. Instead, she crosses her arms to glare at Lucy.
“It’s not funny.”
“Come on, T,” Lucy says, still chuckling. “Look, being embarrassed to be seen with family is a rite of passage. My dad embarrassed me on my moving day. Tim gets to embarrass you a little. Full circle moment.”
Tamara rolls her eyes, pretending like Lucy’s use of the word family doesn’t make her feel stupid and gooey inside, cause that doesn’t exactly suit this grumpy young adult persona she’s trying to adopt.
“Tim’s not my dad.”
“You know what I mean,” Lucy says.
“What’d you have to tell him to get his help?” Tamara asks, trying for a knowing expression.
“Nothing, actually. He offered.” Lucy’s tone is pleased with a hint of surprise, even where Tamara really would not have expected anything less. “I think my persuasion skills are seriously improving.”
She snorts. “Or he’s just in love with you.”
“ Tamara .”
Tamara knows she’s about to be on the end of another one of Lucy’s ‘we’re just friends ’ tirade, but thankfully there’s a knock on the door. Lucy brightens in the way she always does when Tim’s in proximity. Tamara’s not even sure if it’s a conscious reflex or not.
Tim’s brought a tray of iced coffees, which instantly bumps him up in Tamara’s good books.
“Hi Tim,” Lucy says. Tamara gives him a playful little salute with two fingers, and he nods at her.
“Truck’s ready to go. You all packed?”
“Sure,” Tamara says. “Just need a hand with some of the heavier stuff.”
“Lead the way,” Tim says. He throws Lucy the keys and she catches them without missing a beat.
“I’ll start loading up,” Lucy says, already disappearing out the door with various bags.
Tamara and Tim go to her room. Tim helps her tape up the last of her boxes while she sips the coffee he brought. It doesn’t take long before he’s rolling his eyes at her.
“You planning to help at all?”
She grins at him. “You look like you have it covered.”
“I don’t have to be here, you know,” says Tim. “I could leave you right now to carry everything you own down the stairs. Watch you make a million trips in your tiny car.”
Tamara looks over at him. Raises one eyebrow.
“Okay,” she says. “Go out there and tell Lucy you’re bailing then.”
She waits for it. Calling Tim’s bluff has kind of become one of her favourite activities, actually. He doesn’t look at her, intently focused on labelling a box as CDs even though she hasn’t owned a CD since 2009.
“The dramatics aren’t worth the effort,” he says after a moment.
Tamara chuckles. “That’s what I thought,” she says, shaking her head.
Tim finally looks up at her. “What are you trying to imply here?”
“Nothing,” Tamara says, as Lucy’s totally platonic work friend gives up his Saturday to haul boxes around a college campus. “Nothing at all.”
“Oh my god, look,” says Gwen one afternoon at brunch. “The police are here.”
Tamara looks up. Even from this distance, she knows it’s them. Tim’s tall stature and Lucy’s insurmountable height difference are unmistakable from any kind of distance. They’re walking and talking. Lucy stands a little too close to him, like usual, and Tim bends in low and close whenever she says something. It’s quintessentially them. Tamara could pinpoint that sexual tension from a mile away.
“That’s Lucy, right?” Jamie says curiously, biting on his straw. “Who’s the boyfriend? He’s hot.”
“Not her boyfriend,” Tamara says on autopilot.
Gwen and Jamie turn to stare at her.
“Seriously?”
Tamara sighs. “Seriously.”
“There must be something wrong with him,” Jamie reasons.
“There’s nothing wrong with him,” Tamara says. “Except maybe that he’s an insane sports fanatic.”
“So there’s nothing wrong with him, he’s literally one of the hottest guys I’ve ever seen, and he looks at her like that . And you’re telling me they’re not dating?” Gwen says, stunned. “Come on, they have to at least be exes. Hooking up? Seriously? Nothing ? Not even like a one-time bang in the back of a cop car?”
Tamara wrinkles her nose. “Ew. They’re like, practically my parents.”
Gwen shrugs. “Sorry. It’s just seems kind of crazy to me.”
Privately, Tamara can’t help but agree, but she’s learned better than to say anything by now.
Jamie brightens. “Hey, we should set them up!” he suggests.
Tamara shakes her head, swirling her straw around an empty cup.
“No, they actually care about each other. They have a good relationship. I don’t wanna screw that up,” she says.
Jamie seems to soften. “But what if you could make it better?”
“This is their thing. If it’s meant to be, they’ll figure it out,” she says with conviction. “Hopefully before I develop gray hair.”
“Okay,” Jamie relents. “It’s your decision. But they look really cute together.”
“So cute,” Gwen sighs, in the way that suddenly makes Tamara fear she’s going to start writing fanfiction about them.
Tamara lasts for about three weeks in dorm housing before she begs Lucy to move back in. Lucy tries her best to act like she’s disappointed on Tamara’s behalf, but she’s got this cute little pep to her step and she orders all of Tamara’s favourite foods her first night back, which kind of gives her away.
Tamara piles her plate high with Thai food and notices that Lucy’s also ordered all of Tim’s favourites.
“Is Tim coming too?” Tamara asks, pretending to be neutral.
“Tim? No, he’s, uh,” Lucy’s not looking her in the eye, “He’s on vacation with Ashley. In Hawaii.”
“Hawaii. Wow. That’s… really romantic.”
Lucy stiffens. “I mean, not really . They could get stung by jellyfish. There could be a monsoon. Climate change could accelerate and submerge the whole island under sea.”
Tamara stares at her. “Okay…”
“I'm just saying!”
Tamara’s suddenly really glad she’s moved back home, because clearly no one has been keeping an eye on Lucy’s idiocy when it comes to Tim.
“Do you…” Tamara tries carefully, “Do you miss Tim?”
“He’s only gone for two weeks.”
“Not what I asked.”
It’s Lucy’s turn to stare curiously at Tamara.
“Do you miss him?”
Tamara balks. “What?”
“Oh my god, you do! You miss Tim. You like Tim!”
Lucy’s glee is taking up the whole room. Tamara stabs aggressively at a piece of chicken.
“I do not miss Tim. I miss having someone around to change the oil in my car.”
“I can change the oil in your car,” Lucy points out.
“Tim does it better.”
“Um, first of all, that’s offensive,” Lucy scoffs. “Secondly, it doesn’t really matter because this is clearly just a cover-up for you missing Tim.”
Tamara scowls. “No way.”
“It’s kind of cute, actually.”
“It’s not cute! Tim’s annoying. He doesn’t know how to eat ice cream,” Tamara says. “Look, if anyone misses Tim, it’s you.”
Lucy snorts. “I saw him four days ago!”
“Physically, yeah. But you miss him emotionally.”
It comes out without her quite meaning it to. They both freeze. Lucy stares at her and Tamara suddenly thinks crap, crap, crap . They never talk about this. Whatever this is.
“What do you mean, emotionally?” Lucy asks.
“It’s nothing. Ignore me.”
Lucy frowns. “No, T. What’s going on?”
Tamara sighs. She puts down her chopsticks.
“It’s just… Tim’s on a super romantic trip with his long-term girlfriend. Hawaii’s the kind of place where people go to get married. Doesn’t that bother you?”
Lucy laughs a little, but it sounds kind of fake. “Tim’s not going to get married, okay? And why would that bother me?”
“Because… Because… You and Tim are… I mean…” Tamara scrambles for something to say, but the way Lucy is looking at her expectantly gives her pause. She can’t tell if Lucy is genuinely oblivious or just genuinely drowning in denial. “Don’t worry,” Tamara finishes finally. “It’s stupid.”
Lucy watches her for a moment. “It’s not stupid,” she assures Tamara, but she doesn’t say anything else.
After a while, Tamara coughs a little bit, avoiding Lucy’s eyes.
“But if you wanted to invite him for dinner, or something, you know… I wouldn’t be too mad.”
Lucy laughs. “I knew you missed him.”
The days pass. Tamara goes to college, she makes friends, she gets good grades. Life moves on. Then suddenly one day she comes home and Tim and Lucy are making out in the living room.
What Tamara wants to say is FINALLY! Instead, she tries to leave, and has to hear them make a thousand excuses about work and professionalism. That night, lying in bed, Tamara wonders if she’s going to lose her mind waiting for the two most important people in her life to get their act together.
She’s in class, devising a plan to lock them in a closet together when Lucy calls her from the hospital.
She’s there in twenty minutes; Lucy’s sitting in the waiting room in decidedly un-Lucy clothes. Her hair is straightened and her lipstick is smudged. Her eyes are red. Tamara goes in for a hug.
“How’d you get here so fast?” Lucy asks.
“Broke a couple traffic laws,” Tamara says. “Good thing I know cops, right?” Lucy cracks a watery smile, and Tamara sighs. “How’s Chris?”
“Stable. Critical,” Lucy says. “You shouldn’t be here. You have class.”
“I’m not leaving you alone,” Tamara says firmly. “Where’s Tim? Weren’t you together?”
Something in Lucy’s expression shutters. “He’s gone home. It’s okay. I’m fine.”
“I—What?”
It doesn’t make sense. She knows there’s little chance in hell Tim would leave Lucy like this, and an even smaller chance that Lucy wouldn’t want his support right now. But she can see Lucy’s not in the mood to be questioned.
“Come on,” she says instead. “I brought you a change of clothes.”
Lucy gets changed and they hang out in the hospital for a couple of hours, until it starts getting late. Chris is still unconscious, but they’re allowing one visitor to stay with him tonight, so Tamara promises to come back early tomorrow morning for Lucy and heads back home to get some sleep.
Tim’s already in the apartment when Tamara gets back home. She’s not even surprised. The place smells like bleach and all the cushions have been replaced.
“Tim,” Tamara says. “What the hell happened? Why weren’t you with Lucy?”
“We agreed it wasn’t a good idea for me to be there,” Tim says evenly.
Tamara crosses her arms. “She needed you.”
“I know,” he says softly. “I know, Tamara. But she asked me to leave.”
“Why?” Tamara presses. “Something happened, didn’t it? Between you two. Something went down.”
“Leave it alone, Tamara,” Tim warns.
“Why aren’t you together? It’s obvious you both want to be. Everyone can see it. Surely you can, too.”
She’s aware she’s sounding like some spoilt little kid, but she doesn’t care.
“She’s with Chris,” Tim says shortly.
“Chris is temporary. You guys are inevitable.”
“Tamara…”
“Are you telling me that if you got together it wouldn’t be one of the most serious relationships you’ve ever had? That you wouldn’t date to marry her? That—“
“Tamara,” Tim says, firmer than she’s ever heard him before. “Stop. Please drop this. Alright? I can’t talk about this.”
It’s in her nature to argue back, but something in Tim’s tone makes her bite her tongue, hard.
“Sorry,” she says.
“It’s okay,” Tim says. “Go to bed, okay? I’ll lock up. I'm staying here tonight.”
Tamara nods. Of course he is. Lucy probably didn’t even have to ask.
Tamara doesn’t see Tim for a while after that. It’s week three into Lucy’s UC school trip and although Tamara has new friends, she’s starting to feel kind of unmoored without Lucy’s presence in the apartment. She even misses the things that annoy her, like the way Lucy always leaves the empty milk bottle in the fridge or when she accidentally spoils the end to a TV show that she’s watching.
She’s thinking about all this and suddenly she’s at Tim’s house. She’s never been here by herself before. Always with Lucy, and not for ages. She sits in the driveway for a good ten minutes, deliberating, when her phone lights up. It’s Tim.
“You know I have security cameras, right? And an annoying dog.”
Tamara blinks. “Right. Sorry.”
“You gonna come in?”
She bites her lip. “Is that… okay?”
“There’s a tub of French vanilla waiting for you.”
She huffs out a laugh. “Have to remind you again that I’m not actually five.”
“Ice cream is for all ages, Tamara,” says Tim. “Come inside.”
Tamara goes inside. Kojo greets her at the door, slobbery and excited as usual. Tamara takes her shoes off and lets Tim make her a bowl of ice cream.
“I’m surprised you have chocolate syrup,” Tamara says, observing the bowl. “And sprinkles!”
“I bought them for you,” he says, matter of fact, like Tamara doesn’t feel warm all over when he says that.
“I’m sorry for what I said,” she blurts out. “About Lucy. It was out of line.”
“It’s okay,” says Tim. “You were right.”
“I was right?” Tamara echoes. “So you mean, you and Lucy might…”
“I’m still with Ashley,” Tim interrupts.
Tamara stares down at her ice cream. “Oh. I see.” She swirls her ice cream around in the bowl. “You convinced her to go to UC school, didn’t you?”
“It’s a great opportunity for her,” says Tim. “You still doing all right in school?”
It’s an abrupt change in topic. Tamara clocks that maybe Tim doesn’t want to talk about Lucy right now.
“Um, fine. How are you? How’s, um, Kojo?”
“Good. He’s a little antsy. I’ve been picking up some overtime.”
He does look kind of tired. Tamara had just thought that was the whole losing Lucy syndrome.
“I can come walk him for you,” she offers impulsively. “I mean. If you want.”
Tim’s lips twitch up. “Sure,” he says.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Kojo loves his daily runs.”
Tamara frowns. “Runs? I never said runs. I specifically said walk . I don’t run.”
“Kojo runs.”
“Tim!”
Tim’s smirking. “Fine,” he says. “Don’t run. But you try saying no to that face.”
Tamara looks over at Kojo, who is, of course, being adorable.
“Ugh,” she says. “Fine. Let the record show I hate you.”
Tim rolls his eyes. They both know that’s not true.
When Tamara sees Tim’s truck roll into the parking lot at one in the morning, she’s a little surprised. When he gets out of the car along with her, she’s even more surprised. And when Tim pushes Lucy up against the truck door and they start making out, Tamara just about has a heart attack.
Tamara scrambles for her phone and clicks on the group chat.
Oh my god , she types. # chenford is real
Tamara is invited to dinner with Tim and Lucy a couple days after. They go out to some fancy place that she knows Lucy picked out because every single item on the menu is a tiny serve of something unpronounceable with some fancy glaze.
“So…” Tamara says after they’ve sat in awkward silence for about five minutes.
“So,” says Lucy, a little nervously. “Tamara. Um. Tim and I are dating.”
Tamara stares at them for a long moment.
“I know.”
“Right,” Lucy says, glancing at Tim. “I know you know. But we just wanted to tell you officially.”
“I think I realised it was pretty official when I heard you guys last night,” Tamara says wryly. “And the night before that.”
Tim chokes on his mouthful of tiny fancy meal. Lucy pats him consolingly on the back, and Tamara grins at them gleefully. She could get used to this. Oh she could definitely get used to this.
“Just kidding,” she says cheerfully.
“You’re grounded,” Tim says, having recovered from his coughing fit.
She rolls her eyes. “I’m nineteen. And you’re not my dad. You can’t ground me.”
“I can arrest you.”
“Okay, no one is arresting anyone,” Lucy interrupts. “T. We just wanted to tell you because… we’ll, because you’re family. Is this—I mean, are you okay with this?”
Tamara smiles at them, and suddenly she’s thinking that all those nights of almost tearing her hair out from their miscommunication was worth it.
“Are you kidding?” she says. “I’ve been waiting for this since I stole your car.” Lucy laughs, and Tamara smiles at them. “You guys are happy, right? This is good?”
Lucy grabs Tim’s hand and squeezes. His thumb goes to run circles into her palm almost instantly.
“It’s good,” she says, and Tamara knows it’s true.
“That’s great. I’m really happy for you,” Tamara says. “And actually… I have something to tell you too. I’m… kind of seeing someone.”
Lucy opens her mouth, but Tim beats her to it.
“You’re grounded.”
“Stop trying to ground me!”
Later, they stop for burgers at possibly the greasiest diner in the world. Tamara’s made Tim promise not to do conduct background checks on any of the people she chooses to date, and the strawberry milkshakes here are perfection. The night is going pretty good.
Lucy leaves for the bathroom halfway through, and Tamara seizes her opportunity to give Tim her best impression of a withering stare.
“If you hurt her, I’ll hurt you.”
Tim stares at her.
“I’m a police officer,” he says.
“I know.”
“You’re a teenage girl.”
“I prefer the term young adult, but sure.”
“Are you threatening a police officer, Tamara?”
Tamara is careful to keep her expression serious.
“I know people,” she says.
The corners of Tims mouth lift. “I have no doubt,” he says. “I’m not going to hurt Lucy. Not if I have any say in it.”
Tamara reaches over to steal a fry from his plate.
“I know,” she says, cheeky. “I’ve just always wanted to say that.”
He rolls his eyes at her. Tamara thinks she might be seeing a lot more of that expression from now on.
“Eat your burger,” he orders.
“Sure, Dad,” she jokes.
BONUS:
When Tim’s truck pulls over on a side street and his hazard lights start flashing, Tamara knows she’s done for. She pulls into the park behind him, and when she gets out Tim is already leaning against his truck, arms crossed, pulling that disapproving expression he’s spent so many years perfecting.
“Wanna tell me why you’re following me?”
Tamara crosses her arms too, mirroring his stance without even realising it.
“Wanna tell me where you’re going?” she counters.
Tim studies her expression for a moment.
“You already know. Don’t you?”
She shrugs. “Maybe.”
“T…”
She cracks. “Okay, yes, I know. But to be fair, you’re not exactly conspicuous about it.”
“College teach you those big words?”
She rolls her eyes at him. “I’m not seventeen anymore, Tim. And stop deflecting!”
He chuckles at her. Tamara can’t believe she ever thought he was a robot. Actually, he’s just a huge softy.
“Okay, you caught me,” he says. He shoves his hands into his pockets, looking, for a moment, uncharacteristically nervous. “Look… Maybe you want to keep following me?”
Tamara’s heart jumps a little bit, she has to admit.
“Seriously? I can come?”
“Yeah,” Tim says. “Might pay to get a second opinion. And I trust yours.”
Tamara softens, inexplicably.
“You know whatever ring you pick out, she’s gonna love it. Cause it’s from you.”
“I know,” says Tim. He smiles at her. “I still want it to be the right one.” Tamara grins, wide and toothy, and he laughs at her. “Did I pass your Tamara Test?”
“Jury’s still out,” she says, already hopping back into her car. “The type of stone you choose will decide your final fate.”
He shakes his head at her, exasperated. They both know it’s not true. They started this out sharing only their love for Lucy, but somewhere along the way Tamara thinks they started loving each other too.
Tamara turns on the car engine, then leans out the window to yell at Tim.
“Race you to the jewellery store!”
“Tamara, I am literally law enforcement!”
But Tamara’s already accelerating out onto the road, leaving him behind in the dust. She knows he’ll catch up from past experience. He’s always been a little slow on the uptake. But look at him now, buying a ring.
Tamara looks back at his truck in her rear view mirror, grinning at the sheer thought of Lucy’s face when Tim gets down on one knee. Remembering when they used to dance around each other like they would combust if they had a real conversation about feelings.
Idiots , she thinks. They grow up so fast.