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roslinadama-sinequanon · 5 years

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Auld Lang Syne-A New Shandy Fic

This is a little later than planned. Due to some winter winds, I was without power for almost the whole day. But, the power is finally back on and here is the latest in a year of FUSRIA stories that I began last Christmas.

I hope you all have a great 2019!

It's New Year's Eve and Sharon and Andy celebrate with friends at a Gatsby-style party on the Queen Mary, then enjoy a relaxing New Year's Day together. Just a quick little fluff, finishing up the first year of the Shandy marriage.

You can read this here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13166086/1/Auld-Lang-Syne or here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17266316

or right here:

“Sharon, you almost ready? Don’t forget, we have to pick up Provenza and Patrice.” It was New Year's Eve and Andy by default was the designated driver.

“I’m coming.” Sharon spritzed a little Black Opium on her wrists, her neck, and, what the hell, her cleavage for good measure. After one last look in the floor length mirror on the door of her walk-in closet, she slipped on elbow length gloves, grabbed her purse, and stepped out into the bedroom.

“Andy.” His name came out rather breathless. Her sexy as sin husband was leaning against the fireplace in a pose meant to allure. And it did. His light brown suit, plaid check vest, and dark brown bow tie were stylish and dapper, and as she approached him, her insides did a little butterfly dance at the twinkle in the rich depths of his velvet brown eyes. “You look like you just stepped out of ‘The Great Gatsby’.”

“Well, uh, that was plan…right.” He could barely speak, his tongue felt thick and he could not stop staring. If he looked like something out of the pages of ‘Gatsby’ than Sharon, in her vintage 1930’s gold lame gown, a liquid satin that clung to every curve before spilling sensuously about her long legs, was the glamorous epitome of a Golden Era movie star. She smiled at the jaw-dropping look he was giving her and twirled around, giving him a view of the plunging back.

“You like?” She asked.

“You really have to ask?” He stepped forward sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her in tight. “You sure we have to go to this party?”

Sharon shivered as he began nuzzling along her neck. The man did know her weak spots. But, she pulled back with a throaty little giggle before he got too carried away. “We paid an arm and a leg for these tickets, we’re going.”

“Okay. Okay.”

Provenza’s response when he saw the two of them in shades of gold and brown was to roll his eyes. “Eh Gods, do you two always match?”

Patrice shook her head. “Don’t listen to him, you both look stunning.”

“You too, Patrice,” Andy kissed her cheek. “You, on the other hand.” He gave a glance at Provenza, who had done nothing but grumble about having to a New Years Eve party. “You look like Edward G. Robinson.”

“A mighty fine actor. I’ll take that as a compliment,” Provenza huffed.

The party was on The Queen Mary, docked in Long Beach. Each deck and ballroom had a differently themed celebration. They planned to attend the Art Deco era festivities. Stepping onto the huge ocean liner, now a hotel/tourist attraction really was like a journey back in time. And, when they walked into the Grand Salon, decorated in rich black and shimmering gold, the centerpieces dripping with feathers and pearls, and a jazz band playing in the corner, they were transported back to the 1920s and 30’s when speakeasies and jazz were all the rage and Hollywood was in its heyday. Also joining them for the evening were Gavin and his partner Elliott, it was Gavin who had convinced Sharon to get tickets for the event, and Sharon’s good friend Rachel and her husband Jim.

They enjoyed a tasty, elegant dinner, and then spent the night dancing to big band swing music. Well, some of them of them anyway. Andy could really cut a rug and Sharon loved to dance, so they were out on the dance floor all night. Provenza refused to get near the floor unless it was a “slow one“ but, thanks to Andy, Gavin, Elliott, and Jim, Patrice was not short on dance partners.

At the countdown to midnight, cheers filled the air and balloons dropped from the ceiling. Sharon wrapped her arms around Andy’s neck, pulling his face closer to hers.

“Happy New Year, baby,” he said.

“Happy New Year.” They grinned at each other like the sappy newlyweds they still were, then kissed in 2019.

Afterward, while the band played ’Auld Lang Syne’, everyone sang along, then moved out onto the deck to watch a dazzling fireworks display over the water, with the glittering lights of LA off in the distance.

Sharon snuggled back against Andy with a little shiver. The wind was cool off the water. Feeling her chill, Andy slipped off his suit coat and wrapped it around her bare shoulders. She gave him a smile of gratitude and then gazed off at the bright bursts of color in the sky. For many years, New Year's Eve had been bittersweet for her. She was happy enough in her life, even happier once she had gotten the job in Major Crimes. But, after her children had left home, there had always been a feeling that maybe her best years were behind her. Not anymore. She could look back nostalgically on the previous year, but she had nothing but excitement for the new year ahead and the things she and her husband had planned.

With the fireworks display over, they returned inside and made their way to the Promenade Café where a midnight breakfast buffet had been laid out to help them refuel after all that dancing. Sharon chose a mimosa with a couple slices of French toast, while Andy had straight orange juice and a veggie omelet. They both had bowls of vanilla yogurt with the house-made granola.

“All that food and you choose yogurt and granola.” Provenza grimaced and shuddered as he sat down.

Andy eyed his friend‘s plate. “Better than that heart attack on a plate.”

“He’s right, Louis.” Patrice shook her head at the pile of biscuits and sausage gravy, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage and potatoes that filled her husband’s plate. “You’re never going to be able to sleep tonight after eating all that.”

“Well, it will be worth it.” Provenza dug into his biscuit and chewed with gusto.

By the time they finished eating, dropped Patrice and Provenza off at home, and then continued up the coast, Sharon and Andy did not get home until well after 2:00 am. Exhausted, they slept in late New Years Day, enjoyed some lazy cuddle time, and then had a simple breakfast of buttery croissants, fruit, and coffee out on the sun porch. Feeling a little more refreshed after their coffee and showers, they changed into jeans and sweatshirts and made the quarter-mile walk down the hill to the beach. It was low tide and they walked along the hard-packed sand, hand in hand, seagulls diving and cawing overhead. After about a mile, they stopped near an outcropping of rocks and sat in the soft sand, watching the waves crash into the rocks and enjoying the feel of the January sun on their faces. Sharon laid her head against Andy’s shoulder, enjoying the peace and tranquility. She loved their walks on the beach. They stayed that way for quite a while until dark clouds started to move in and it looked like they might be in for a shower.

Back at the house, they took down the Christmas tree that had been up since the weekend after Thanksgiving. Christmas was Sharon’s favorite holiday and she always tried to hang on to it for as long as possible. For her, Christmas started the day after Thanksgiving and didn‘t end until New Years Day. When the kids had left for college and she’d moved into the condo, it had been easier to have a fake tree--though she always sprayed it with that pine scent because what was a tree without its scent. This year, in their big new house, they had bought a giant live fir, and even though they had had the guy at the tree farm make a fresh cut, and Sharon had faithfully kept the tree watered, it was still clearly time to take it down. While Andy dragged the tree out to the backyard, he left behind a trail of pine needles and broken branches. Sharon followed behind him picking up the dead branches and by the time he returned she was vacuuming up the needles. With that task completed, they sprawled out lazily on the big leather couch in their family room to binge watch college football bowl games on their 65-inch TV, Andy’s first purchase when they bought the house. With Rusty up in San Francisco enjoying the New Year festivities with Ricky and Tess, they didn’t bother with supper, simply munched on cheesy nachos with guacamole while they watched the games.

Overall, 2018 had been a great year and with a new baby on the way, Ricky moving closer to home and a trip to Russia to watch Emily on tour at the Kirov and Bolshoi ballets looming ahead, 2019 looked like it might be even better.

#sharon raydor #andy flynn #shandy #Major Crimes #sharon and andy flynn #fusria #shandy new year #sharonmattered #sharon deserved better

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thesharoneffect · 6 years

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#shandy #mary mcdonnell #tony denison #major crimes #sharonmattered

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roslinadama-sinequanon · 5 years

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The Feast of the Seven Fishes-New MC Fanfic

This is just something I threw together for Christmas in my continuing effort to show how Sharon and Andy spent their first year of marriage together. I got the inspiration from Tony who talked about this Sicilian tradition in an interview and how he hoped to go back to his roots and host one in the future. Can totally see Andy embracing the whole family this way.

You can read here https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13157919/1/The-Feast-of-the-Seven-Fishes or here https://archiveofourown.org/works/17160020 or here:

Sharon gazed up at the 15 foot Douglas fir placed in the corner of their living room. It was so tall that her 6 foot 1-inch husband had struggled to get the angel straight, even on a ladder. It had been a long time since she’d had a live tree, let alone one this big. A high ceiling was one of the many attributes of their new home. The tree was beautiful, filled with ornaments from their pasts and new ones they had purchased together—including the special stained glass shamrock ornament reading “Ireland 2018” that they had purchased on their honeymoon in Ireland.

Last year at this time, she was still recovering from the mild bout of cardiomyopathy that had thankfully turned out to be more of an annoyance than anything else. She’d had to take some time off to allow the virus to run its course and they’d decided to put off their search for a new home until she was feeling stronger. Now, they had this beautiful Spanish Revival, with its high exposed wood beam ceilings, wrought iron chandeliers and the extra spare rooms that would house some of the family members who would be descending on their home tonight. Boughs of holly were draped along the stone fireplace mantle where their stockings were lined up in a row. Live wreaths hung on the walls, filling the air with the scent of balsam pine. Gorgeous full poinsettias in red and white graced the coffee table, the end tables and the top of Sharon’s piano—her housewarming gift from Andy. A strategic sprig of mistletoe dangled in the archway leading from the hall into the living room, a spot where Andy caught her at every opportunity.

She could hear him now in the kitchen, just through another graceful archway off the living room. He was in his glory, preparing for the “Feast of the Seven Fishes” a seven-course traditional Sicilian Christmas Eve meal. It was something he remembered fondly from his childhood and for as long as she had known him; he had talked about wanting to do this for their family. However, until they bought this new larger home, it hadn’t been feasible. The condo wasn’t large enough for both their extended families. This house was.

She made her way into the kitchen, watching Andy slapping together crab and salmon cakes while humming along to “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year,” with Andy Williams. She ran her hand along his shoulders as she made her way to the stove, earning that pure Andy smile that always made her feel like she was the best thing in his world. She lifted the cover on the vat of bubbling New England clam chowder, stuck a spoon in, and took a taste. The chowder was her contribution, her grandmother’s recipe that always transported her back to summers on Nantucket.

Seven dishes was a lot of food so they were doing as much prep work as possible so all they would have to do tonight was heat everything up. They would start with bacon wrapped scallops along with traditional antipasto for hors-d'oeuvres, and then they would move into the meal. The chowder, followed by the crab and salmon cake appetizers, then a coconut shrimp salad with orange marmalade sauce, lobster rolls made with fresh Maine lobster purchased from ‘Cape Seafood and Provisions’ in West Hollywood, garlicky shrimp scampi, and baked flounder au gratin made with flounder that Andy and Ricky caught on a fishing trip out to Catalina. Ricky and his girlfriend Tess had flown in a couple days ago and would be staying with them in one of the guest rooms. Emily was due to arrive any minute with her O’Dwyer grandparents, and Andy’s mother and his sisters Antonella, Maura, Peggy, and Gina, along with Peggy and Gina’s husbands and Gina’s daughter Sophia had settled in at a local B&B run by a friend of Sharon’s from her book club. Sharon’s sister Christine, her brother in law Ed and her nieces Jillian and Bridget were also staying at the B&B.

**********

It was Christmas Eve, the food was prepared and Sharon’s sense of occasion had the house looking like something out of a magazine spread. A fire burned in the hearth, white lights twinkled on the large Christmas tree and ran along the built-in bookshelves that flanked the fireplace. Christmas music played softly on the Bose surround sound speakers that Ricky had helped them set up with they’d first moved in. The families mingled, some carrying wine glasses, others cut glass miniature mugs of eggnog doctored up with a little vanilla ice cream, whipped cream, and nutmeg. A bottle of spiced rum sat next to the punch bowl for those who wanted a little extra zip in their nog.

Andy stood leaning against the fireplace sipping his non-spiked eggnog, listening to Celine Dion sing about another year having gone by. He had been talking with Nicole and Dean but as they moved on to get some cheese and crackers for the boys he took a moment to survey the room with pleasure. All the O’Dwyers, Raydors, and Flynn’s were under one roof. His roof. Their roof. His eyes fell on Sharon across the room near the piano. She was in a conversation with her mother, his mother, and his sister Antonella. She had changed into a red cashmere sweater dress that gently skimmed over her curves along with knee-high black suede boots. Sexy and elegant. That was his wife. As if she felt his gaze on her, she turned and caught his eyes, flashing him a broad beaming smile that lit her whole face and made him feel like the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet. When Sharon smiled at him like that, he felt like he could walk on water.

Later that night when they returned from midnight mass at St. Joseph’s and she had changed into a long white silk nightgown, he into pajama bottoms and t-shirt, he slid his iPod into the dock and clicked on one of her favorites, Michael Buble.

“Dance with me,” he said, holding out a hand. She took it and stepped into his arms, resting her head on his broad chest, swaying gently to “I’ll be Home for Christmas” thinking that Buble could even make that holiday favorite sound sexy.

“We are home, aren’t we?” she said, nuzzling into his chest. God how she loved this house near the sea.

“We are,” he agreed, rubbing his cheek against her soft fragrant hair. “But it’s more than this house. It’s you, Sharon. You’re my home. You always have been.”

She pulled back, hearing the catch in his voice. When she saw the sheen of tears displayed in his dark eyes by the moonlight shining through the French doors, she cupped a hand over his cheek. She knew he was thinking about last year at this time. “And you’re my home. As long as we’re together nothing else matters.”

“No, it doesn’t. And as far as Christmas goes, I’ve already been given the best gift ever. I‘ll never have to ask for anything else.”

She cocked her head with curiosity. “What’s that?”

“You. Here with me, healthy and well. When you were sick last year, I made a few deals with God. One of those was that I’d never ask for anything else as long as he made you well again. He kept up His end of the bargain and there’s nothing else I want or need that can ever compare to having you by my side. Forever.

Sharon felt the tear slide down her cheek and then his thumb wiping it away. “How’d I ever get so lucky to have a man like you in my life?”

“Me? I dunno. Provenza said I was the booby prize.”

Sharon gave a surprised little snort laugh. No one could make her laugh through her tears like Andy. “You’re not the booby prize,” she said. “You’re the blue ribbon all the way.

******

Christmas morning brought more good news for the family when Dean and Nicole showed up with Tyler and Scottie who were wearing reindeer t-shirts that read “Oh Deer, I’m going to be a big brother” and the announcement that she was due in June. The entire family erupted with excitement, but none more so than Andy and Sharon who were over the moon at the idea of another grandchild.

Once the gifts were unwrapped, the paper balled up in boxes to be sent to recycling, everyone moved into the dining room for a large brunch. Casseroles, ham and cheese, sausage and hash browns, and French toast. Quiche, both veggie and bacon and Gruyere, and a variety of Danish’s, cinnamon rolls, croissants, muffins, coffee cake, and bagels were spread out on the table. It was sunny and in the mid-’60s so Sharon left the French doors open to the patio. Some ate outside under the pergola on the large farmer’s table or perched on the comfortable chairs Andy had placed in a cozy circle around the outdoor Chiminea, while others ate inside in the dining room or on the island bar in the kitchen.

While they ate Ricky and Tess announced that they were moving in together and would be looking for a condo in San Diego or its surroundings. Tess had been working on her Master's degree in Psychology with a focus on refugee mental health and human rights at Berkeley and had interned with different programs helping refugee children and their families in the Bay area. Now with her Master’s completed, she had been offered a job working with traumatized children experiencing posttraumatic stress having come from refugee situations, many who had been tortured, abused or traumatized by watching family members killed in front of them. She would be working with the children utilizing Trauma-Focused Cognitive Behavioral Therapy techniques. It was an amazing opportunity and she had to take it, but it meant moving over 7 hours away from Ricky and that was something they both deemed unacceptable. This time it was Ricky who would make the sacrifice. He was lucky. With his computer savvy he could pretty much find a job anywhere in the world, and in many cases, name his price. So, moving had not been a difficult decision. In fact, he informed them that he already had a few interviews lined up in cybersecurity.

Sharon was thrilled that her son was in a serious relationship with a young woman she really liked and that Ricky had been willing to make sacrifices to make the relationship work. Even better, he was now going to be an easily drivable distance away. Less than two hours! He and Andy had already been talking about fishing trips and Dodger games.

A little later while everyone was relaxing inside and they were burning cardboard in the Chiminea, Andy slipped an arm around Sharon‘s waist. “Looks like 2019 is going to be another great year for us.”

“Yes, it does.” She rested her head on his shoulder with a contented sigh. “A new baby, Ricky getting serious with Tess and moving closer to home and our first full year in our new house.”

Andy looked inside through the French doors, his eyes falling on Emily who was laughing with his sister Gina. “Now if we can just get our girl closer to home, life would be perfect.”

Our girl. God how she loved him.

#sharon raydor #andy flynn #shandy #Major Crimes #Shandy Christmas #sharon and andy live on forever and ever #sharonmattered #screw you duff

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roslinadama-sinequanon · 5 years

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Saying Good-Bye to Yesterday-Chapter 8

A/N Here is my better late than never attempt at the Fuck You, Sharon Raydor is Alive Fanworks Fest. I think this chapter fits in well because it touches on two of the very few things that we actually got to know about Sharon and her personal life, that she is religious and that she had a really bad first marriage.

In this chapter, Sharon brings her annulment paperwork to Father Stan. They have a heart to heart about the annulment and her first marriage and each reflects on their relationship over the past 20 years.

You can find it here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13004092/8/Saying-Good-Bye-to-Yesterday or here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15321687/chapters/40151210 or right here:

With two large manila envelopes under her arm, Sharon knocked on the door of the rectory. Father Stan was expecting her so she wasn't surprised when it was he who greeted her rather than Terry, the secretary who usually answered the door. His warm smile quickly faded, his face going slack.

"Father?" For just a moment she couldn't figure out why he was looking at her with such concern. She'd almost forgotten the bruise that was now turning a nice bluish-purple and could not be completely concealed by make-up, but when she did, her hand moved to her cheek. Thankfully Andy's prediction that she might get a "nice shiner" out of it had not come to fruition.

His eyes, filled with accusations, moved to the manila envelopes. "Who hurt you?" His question was even more accusatory.

"It wasn't Jack," she assured him, knowing exactly what conclusion he'd jumped to. And when he continued to stare at her she added, "And it wasn't Andy."

"I never thought it was Andy." He ushered her into the house.

"It happened at work. A suspect. He took exception to me calling him out for being a bullying, self-centered narcissist who couldn't take it when his girlfriend chose another man over him, so he killed her. Honestly, I was asking for it."

"No one asks for violence."

"They do if they don't have enough evidence to arrest a suspect they know is guilty and have to find a way to keep him locked up."

Stan muffled a laugh and shook his head. She might look the epitome of femininity, with her long wavy hair, stylish slim fitting clothes, and high heels, but Sharon was tough as nails. "And was he guilty?"

"You bet he was. He's spending the first day of a very long sentence in San Quentin today."

"Well, let's not just stand here in the hall. Come on, we'll go in and have a seat."

Sharon set off down the hall toward the living room. It was a path she'd taken many times before and she was as comfortable as she was visiting any of her friends. The rectory housed both the church's offices and the priests so she'd spent a lot of hours between these walls. She and Jack had been living in California for five years when they bought their home in Mar Vista and she'd changed her parish from St. Timothy's which had been close to their West LA apartment to St. Joe's which was closer to their new home. Emily was about to start kindergarten and Ricky was a baby so she liked the idea that St. Joe's had a school attached to the parish. Initially, she'd liked Father Ray, a grandfatherly man who embraced her and her children. However, as her marriage to Jack continued to disintegrate and she'd turned to her priest for guidance she'd been shocked by the hard line he'd taken with her. Time and again, his only advice had been to turn the other cheek. To continually forgive Jack his transgressions and look the other way at his infidelity. To hold the marriage together like a good Catholic wife no matter what the cost to her and her children. That sentiment hadn't been so surprising, divorce was anathema in the Catholic church. It was his lack of understanding and compassion that had actually had her considering a new church. And then, as if by some miracle, he'd been transferred to another parish and Father Stan had arrived. Stan was a breath of fresh air that she'd desperately needed. He was young and progressive. He embodied the charitable mission of the church that was so important to Sharon and most of all, he offered a sympathetic shoulder and compassionate counsel. Over the years he had become more than just her parish priest. He was the person she turned to first when she was in crisis or in need of counsel. He was the person with whom she wept when man's inhumanity to man took her into the same dark places that had caused her fiance to turn to alcohol. And in those times when the world seemed so bleak, so violent, so cruel, he prayed with her and helped her to keep her faith…in man and in God. Most recently he was the man who had encouraged her, despite the church's teaching on pre-marital sex and remarriage after divorce, to keep her heart open when she confessed to him that she was falling in love with Andy Flynn.

"Can I get you a cup of coffee or tea?" He asked as she sat in a wingback chair in the living room. Usually, she chose the couch, but given the tense squaring of her shoulders, this wasn't going to be a typically relaxed visit.

"No, I'm good. I have to get to work. I just wanted to drop by and give you these and ask you, what's next?" She handed him the two envelopes and he looked up with surprise.

"You already have Jack's questionnaire too?"

"Mmm…Turns out my children are quite good at blackmail."

He read the censure in her narrowed eyes. "You're upset with them?"

"Yes. Maybe. I don't know," she shook her head.

"Is this not what you wanted? Because if you don't want an annulment, we can stop things right here and now."

"No, no," she quickly protested. "Of course I want an annulment. I want to marry Andy in the church."

"I thought as much." He smiled warmly. "And by the way. Congratulations on the engagement. May I see the ring?"

Sharon held out her hand, smiling at the look of real delight on Stan's face. "I'm so happy for you," he said. "And for Andy. He's a good man and it's pretty obvious to the world how much he loves you. You definitely traded up."

"I have. " Her smile widened, remembering when Jack used that exact term after finding out that she was dating Andy but in a derogatory way, indicating that he did not think she'd traded up at all and she'd told him to 'go to hell'. Oh, how good that had felt.

"So," he leaned back in his chair. "Things are going well, why the conflicted emotions?"

"I could have done this on my own. You of all people know how hard I've tried to keep my kids from getting stuck in the middle between Jack and me."

"No one is questioning your ability to get things done. But, please know that your children came to me out of a place of love. They wanted to do this for you."

"I know their hearts were in the right place. But this is my battle, I don't want them out there fighting it for me."

"Sharon." He leaned forward and took her hand between his. "You are so good at doing for others. You're always the first one to jump in and try to help someone in need. You're not so good at letting others do for you."

She sighed, with a little shrug. It was a conversation they'd had many times before.

"Well, I want you to think about something. Think about how good it makes you feel when you're able to help someone you love. Take Rusty for example. I know that being able to give him a home, an education, and the kind of love and stability he never had in his life has given you greater joy and pleasure than he will ever know."

"Yes, it has." And yet no matter how strongly she protested he still thought of himself as a burden.

"So, why would you want to deny those who love you that same joy and satisfaction? Emily and Ricky were so happy to finally be able to give something back to you after everything that you've done for them over the years. Let them have that, Sharon. It isn't a weakness to let people help you. In fact, sometimes it's more selfish not to allow people the opportunity to be there for you when you need them."

Sharon mulled that over for a moment. Was she being selfish? It did feel good to help the people she loved. The rush of pleasure, the warmth that spread through her chest, the glowing sense of accomplishment, all of it felt good. "But I'm their mother. I should be helping them not the other way around."

"They're not little kids anymore."

"I know that. I just never wanted my children to feel the burden of my failed marriage."

"And it's time you let go of that guilt. You've worn it like a cloak for far too long. The demise of your marriage was not your fault. You did everything you could, went above and beyond, to make it work. I think you know how deeply I believe in the sanctity of the marriage vows. But I have also come to believe that there are times when those vows were not taken or upheld in good faith and the marriage causes so much suffering it becomes untenable. You gave Jack every chance to right himself and every time he walked away. It's not your penance, Sharon."

His eyes were soft with understanding and compassion and that was Sharon's undoing. Her throat grew thick with emotion and she swallowed convulsively, fighting back the sting of tears. She was NOT going to cry. She'd shed more than enough tears over Jack Raydor. It took her a few moments to regain her composure, but Stan waited patiently. She cleared her throat, but there was still a slight tremor when she was finally able to speak. "Maybe that's true, but I still can't help but feel guilty for what my children went through. I spent so many years having to be strong because I had no other choice. I was all that they had. I did everything in my power to make them feel safe and secure and to know that I would always be there for them. I didn't want them feeling scared or vulnerable because they didn't have a father."

"And you did a great job. But they're responsible young adults now. They're strong and they love you and they want to respect the childhood that you gave them by helping you to find the happiness that you deserve."

"I guess I need to let go a little, huh."

He chuckled and held his index finger and thumb apart to indicate an inch or so. "Maybe just a little. But I know you'll always be a lioness when it comes to those cubs." Some might have used the analogy of a Mama Bear, but that wasn't Sharon. Sharon, with her stunning green cat eyes, was sleek and feline, quiet and stealthy, sneaking up on those who might dare to harm her family and pouncing before they even knew what hit them. Sharon Beck could probably tell a story or two about that.

"Always. Until the day I die." She fidgeted, toying with an edge of the envelope. Something about being here always seemed to give her a sense of clarity into her emotions and motivations. She wasn't sure if it was the crosses on the walls and the religious pictures and statues or the many years she'd spent seeking comfort by unburdening herself to her priest, but whatever it was she felt safe here. It was one of the few places where she simply could not lie or hide from herself. Ever since she'd found out about Emily and Ricky's visit to Jack she hadn't been able to overcome a sense of anger. She'd blamed that anger on Jack, on her guilt and even on her kids overstepping boundaries, everywhere but where it truly came from.

"Sharon?"

"I wasn't completely honest with you earlier," she admitted. "I said that I was upset because I could have done this on my own. But that isn't the truth. The truth is, I'm not so sure I could have done it without the help from the kids and I think that's why I haven't been able to let go of this anger."

"Why do you think you couldn't have done it on your own?"

"Oh, I could have gotten the papers, I could have brought them to Jack. But, given who he is, especially his attitude lately, I don't think I ever would have gotten him to agree to the annulment."

"What do you mean his attitude lately?"

"Jack's always been difficult. He's always wanted to have his cake and eat it too. When we were separated, if he even got a hint that I might be dating someone, he'd come back and try to stake his turf. He didn't care to stay around, but he didn't want anyone else taking his place. Now we're divorced but the way he acts, you'd think we were still married and I'm having an affair with Andy. He's angry and bitter and jealous and I just don't get it."

"It sounds like Jack is finally understanding what he's lost. We often don't know what we have or treasure what we have until we actually lose it. "

"Yes, well. I don't think Jack was ever the person I thought he was and I spent far too many years trying to make him into something he was never capable of being. All those years I tried to convince myself that we were right for each other, but we never really were."

"And he still doesn't see that?"

"No. He didn't want the divorce. He would have contested it if it hadn't come down to money, particularly him having to pay up everything he owed me in child support from the day he first walked away. He gains nothing by agreeing to the annulment other than helping me to move forward in my life and that isn't exactly a priority for him."

"And yet he signed the papers and filled out the questionnaire."

"Because Emily and Ricky threatened they would never see him again if he didn't."

"Ah…Now I see what you mean by the middle. But they're adults and that was their choice."

"Yes, and it worked. And I am grateful. I guess I just wish I could wave a magic wand and make Jack a better person."

He smiled wryly. "There's no such thing as magic wands. But we can pray for him."

"I do, Father. All the time."

His eyes were sympathetic. "I know you do." In fact, for many years he'd prayed with her. The woman he'd first met, young, lovely, composed, brimming with intelligence but filled with anger, hurt and confusion as she prepared to legally separate from her husband and take a job in the Professional Standards Bureau, was not the same strong, assured and confident woman who sat before him today. When Sharon first met with him in this room, a little leery considering how she felt about his predecessor, it was easy to see the competence and confidence she had in herself professionally, even as she was questioning her decision to change jobs for the needs of her children. It was in her personal life that her self-esteem had been in shatters. She felt foolish for allowing Jack to manipulate her into a reconciliation attempt, only to leave her in more dire straits than he had the first time he'd left. His infidelity had her questioning herself as a woman and a wife and she was overwhelmed with guilt for the pain that her children were experiencing at the way their father came and went from their life. On top of that, she was scared to death about the hole that Jack had put her in financially. And yet, he'd never met a stronger, more determined and independent woman. It had been a privilege to watch her come through such trying times and evolve into the woman she was today. The fact that she could still pray for a man who had caused her and her children such pain and turmoil was a testament to her character.

"Why don't I take a look at what you've got here to make sure you aren't missing anything."

Sharon handed him the envelopes. One held Jack's questionnaire and statement. Stan quickly perused it until he found what he was looking for. Jack did indeed state that he would not contest the proceedings. Sharon's envelope was a little fuller. She had her application and questionnaire as well as her baptismal certificate, her marriage certificate, and her divorce papers. "It looks like everything is here."

"So, what's next?"

"Next, you need to come up with four witnesses who can attest to the state of your marriage. Witnesses from before you were married and early in the marriage would be ideal. The members of the tribunal will want to know both your states of mind as you wed and early on in the marriage."

"What kinds of people are we talking about here?"

"Family, friends, counselors, psychologists anyone who has an insight into the marriage and who witnessed what you went through. I'm not going to sugar coat this Sharon. It's going to get intimate and personal. Very personal. We're going to be digging into a very difficult time in your past, probably bringing up some really tough memories."

"I'm aware of that Father. I'll be okay. " She spoke confidently but couldn't completely hide the flicker of trepidation he saw in her eyes. "Will you be a member of the tribunal?"

"Normally I would, but I recused myself."

She flinched, confusion written all over her face. "What? Why? I was hoping you would be there in my corner."

His face softened. "I am in your corner. I recused myself because I'd like to be one of your witnesses. Who better than me to offering testimony into how hard you tried to help Jack with his sobriety. How much you struggled as a single mom after he left and how you were willing to try again and hold your family together, despite all your misgivings when he returned."

Sharon lifted one shoulder in a melancholic shrug. "I wanted to save him." Her smile was sad. Even though Jack walked away from their marriage and their children, disappearing with only a note of apology that was not entirely unexpected but was still the most cowardly and spineless thing he had ever done, she'd tried to tell herself that he had an illness. But even then she'd known that his alcoholism was not entirely to blame for his character flaws and she had no idea that there was worse to come. "Saving him wasn't realistic. It's like Andy always says, you can't save someone who isn't ready to be saved. They have to be ready and they have to save themselves."

Stan nodded in agreement. He'd only been a priest at St. Joe's for a few months when Jack returned supposedly sober and ready to be the husband and father Sharon had always wanted him to be. He had helped counsel her through the reconciliation attempt and was there for her as both her priest and her friend when Jack caved under the pressure and walked away again, not only cleaning out all their accounts but selling off the expensive piano that had been a gift to her from a beloved aunt, and she'd made the decision to make the separation legal and final. And when she was alone again, juggling a demanding job with motherhood, he'd helped connect her with parishioners willing to help out with daycare or "nightcare" before she'd transferred to the PSB and was still on patrol during hours when a traditional daycare was not open. And as much as she'd hated it, he helped her with financial aid to keep her kids at St. Joe's when the bills had started rolling in and the magnitude of Jack's gambling addiction had hit her straight in the face with a staggering credit card debt.

"You did everything you could, Sharon. You gave your best to Jack, you raised two beautiful, successful children on your own and you took in another who has grown in amazing ways under your care. And I will be happy to testify to that."

"I didn't know a priest could be a witness."

"They can. The only thing I can't discuss is anything that Jack said to me in confession." The weight of that statement lay heavy between them, their eyes meeting, filled with memories. Jack had only been to confession a few times, namely when Sharon had given him the ultimatum of getting sober or leaving. He'd shown up at church, drunk and maudlin, crying and filled with self-pity begging Stan to come to his defense, pleading with him to help change Sharon's mind.

Getting the call from Stan to pick Jack up because he was too stumbling drunk to get home on his own was embarrassing enough for Sharon. But it was nothing compared to the humiliation she felt while she and Stan were helping Jack down the stairs of the church and into her car while other parishioners were watching the spectacle. She could swear she felt the censure and pity in their eyes searing through her skin while her own eyes burned with tears of shame. In those moments she actually hated her husband.

"I also can't discuss anything that you said to me in the confessional without your permission."

Sharon's lips pursed and she inhaled deeply. So many intimate secrets had been confessed in that small dark cubical, so many heartaches, conflicts, worries, and yes, sins. She was no saint, she sinned like every other human being on earth. Finally, she spoke, unwavering eyes meeting his. "I trust you, Father. I know you won't divulge anything other than what needs to be said regarding the marriage. Besides, we spent as much time in this room discussing my marriage as we have in the confessional."

"That is true."

"I really appreciate you doing this for me. I know it will hold a lot of weight with the Bishop."

His lips twisted wryly. "Maybe, maybe not. I think you know how much he loves my progressive views."

Sharon grinned at his sarcasm. "We all love your progressive views, and that's what matters."

"I don't want you to worry about this. It's all going to work out just fine, I don't foresee any problems, especially with Jack not contesting. Although even if he had I'm sure the annulment would still be granted, it just might have taken years rather than months. Just make sure to get your list of witnesses in as soon as you can. You should probably talk to them first so they'll be prepared when the Bishop contacts them."

"Of course. I-" She broke off in mid-sentence as her cell phone rang and she began digging in her blazer pocket to find it. "Hold on just a sec, I may have to take this." She swiped her finger across the screen, typed in her password and read the text. "Sorry Father, it looks like I'm off to the morgue."

He shook his head with resignation at yet another murder and rose to squeeze a hand on her shoulder. "You've spent so much of your life doing what is best for your children. You worry about everyone but yourself. This is your time, Sharon. Enjoy it. Embrace it. And please give Andy my congratulations."

"I will, Father. And thank you for all your help. I think I may be leaning on you quite a bit over the next few months."

"Lean away, that's what I'm here for. And Sharon, I am always here for you."

TBC

#sharon raydor is still alive #sharon raydor #shandy #Major Crimes #saying good-bye to yesterday #sharon deserved better #sharonmattered #sharon will live on forever so FU Duff

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roslinadama-sinequanon · 6 years

Text

Just finished watching “Off the Wagon” from Season 5 and was reminded yet again how much time was wasted on a storyline that didn’t go anywhere and that no one cared about. Here we have several scenes all about Sharon Beck and the waste of time baby storyline. Yeah, sorry, I wouldn’t let that woman have a dog, let alone trust her with a child. But, that’s a whole other rant.

Supposedly there wasn’t enough time to give Sharon a proper story or for Sharon and Andy to have a proper story, or for the two of them to have time alone, but there was plenty of time to have personal scenes between Rusty and Sharon B in a storyline that went nowhere. We couldn’t have any private time between Sharon and Andy, but we had Rusty with Sharon and Andy discussing the baby, we had Rusty and his pathetic excuse for a biological mother at her sonogram, we had Rusty talking about addiction with Andy, we had Rusty and Gus discussing SB and the baby with Sharon at the condo. Like, who the hell even cared? Evidently, the writers figured out that no one gave a damn because they dropped that storyline like a hot potato. We don’t know if SB actually had the baby or if she did what happened to it or if she simply disappeared. That time could have been much better utilized for other characters and storylines that we were actually interested and invested in.

According to you know who, they didn’t have enough money to show Sharon and Andy on an actual date but they had enough to pay Ever Carradine for a guest appearance that meant nothing.

And the biggest kicker, Rusty and Gus getting to say “I love you” and having a romantic kiss, which Shandy fans had been begging for. That was the moment that I really knew James Duff had it out for us. He wasn’t just stringing us along, he wanted to slap us in the face, which was exactly how I felt with that scene.

Sorry...Still salty

#Major Crimes #sharon raydor #andy flynn #shandy #rusty beck #still salty #sharonmattered #stupid storyline #waste of time

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roslinadama-sinequanon · 6 years

Text

Fourth of July with the Flynn’s.

This turned out to be much longer than I planned, a full story not just a drabble. But to get it out for the fourth I wrote it very quickly so please forgive any mistakes.

Santa Lucia is a fictional town.

Summary: It's been 8 months since they got married and Andy and Sharon have just moved into their new Spanish Revival house on the coast and they have invited all their family and friends over for a large barbecue to celebrate the 4th of July.

You can read this here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15172376 or here:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12991196/1/Fourth-of-July-with-the-Flynn-s

or right here:

*********

Even though he was used to being woken in the middle of the night, Andy was not an early riser. He usually needed an alarm. Sharon, on the other hand, often woke before her alarm and she was one of those lucky morning people, able to splash a little cold water on her face and was wide-awake. “It’s a mother thing,” she had assured him while he stumbled bleary-eyed to the kitchen for his coffee, needing that quick kick of caffeine to send him on his way.

Today, the feel of the sun warm on his cheek woke him before his alarm, while Sharon slumbered on beside him. Opening his eyes, he squinted against the natural light slightly disoriented and trying to gain his bearings in a still unfamiliar setting. Scanning the room, he saw walls painted a warm golden cream, long drapes in deep rich terracotta, a small kiva fireplace facing the bed from the corner and large windows with a comfortable window seat overlooking the backyard and the pool. Straight ahead was the source of most of the sunlight. French doors that opened out to a large terrace allowing them a glimpse of the Pacific that he knew would broaden when he stepped outside.

Home. He smiled. They were home.

Rising from their new bed with its intricate swirled wrought iron headboard and footboard, he padded over to the doors and flung them wide open, inhaling deeply the scent of the Pacific on the breeze. He leaned against the rail, looking out over the red-tiled roofs of the houses below them. They were a half mile from the water, but high enough up one of the many hills to have a gorgeous view of the ocean and coastline. Nestled between Santa Monica and the Palisades, Santa Lucia was a small former fishing village with a secluded cove that still held some of that old California charm. He and Sharon had fallen in love with the house and the town the minute they had set foot here. After visiting well over a dozen homes all over LA, they had begun to despair that they would ever find exactly what they were looking for…and then they had stepped into this house. It had everything they wanted--including a separate mother in law suite off the garage so that Rusty had his own personal quarters where he could come and go. Yes, he would still need to use the kitchen but he was now far enough away from their bedroom that they would no longer have to worry about the thumping and pumping of their bed, a remark that he had made to Sharon that had earned him a slap on the arm. Sharon was not incredibly vocal in bed but he knew that she too was getting tired of trying to stifle her soft cries and low moans when they made love and of having to cover his mouth when he groaned out his completion.

The cream stucco Spanish Revival, with its Mediterranean wooden shutters and red -tiled roof had four bedrooms that included their master with its walk-in closet and large en-suite master bath, 2 guest rooms upstairs and the mother in law bedroom/sitting room combo downstairs. There were three and a half baths, a small formal living room and a larger family room. The ceilings were high, painted white and had gorgeous dark wood exposed beams. The rooms led one to the other through graceful Moorish archways. The kitchen was open to the dining room and the dining room doors opened out to a pergola covered patio. Just off the kitchen was a small office with a view of the olive tree in the front yard and a nice bright laundry room. Off the dining room, to the right was an addition, a screened in porch, the ceiling of which was their master bedroom terrace. The house came with a two-car garage, a decent sized backyard with a pool, a hot tub and a couple of citrus trees and it was everything they had been looking for and more. Its only drawback was a bit longer commute than they had wanted, but the gorgeous view, the cool ocean breezes, and the backyard oasis more than made up for that. It was a house they could envision one day retiring in; a house that would be a perfect fit for the many grandbabies they hoped would surround them in the future.

“You’re up early.” Arms wrapped around his torso and he felt the warmth of Sharon’s breasts pressed into his back, her lips soft on the nape of his neck.

“We have a lot to do. Got a big crowd coming.” He turned into her embrace.

“Yes, we do. Thank God we have almost everything unpacked.” They had moved in a week ago and had most of the rooms in order, with a few things here or there left to unpack or rearrange, mostly in the guest rooms and the office.

“It’s a good thing we had some time on the books, and that your son is such a whiz with electronics.” Ricky had taken some time off leading up to the fourth to help with the move. They had hired professional movers to get everything in, and being as organized as Sharon was, everything was labeled well and put in the exact right spot. But, there had been some rearranging and a lot of unpacking and they had needed Ricky to help set up the large screen TV Andy had purchased for the family room and the surround sound that came with it. Sharon wasn’t a big TV watcher but Andy had sold her when he played up to her major weakness asking her to envision football games on such a big screen, “it will be almost like we’re there” he had pressured, like a kid convincing his mom. She had caved into his enthusiasm with a long-suffering sigh but secretly was really looking forward to curling up on the big plush leather couch that had come from Andy’s house via storage and spending football Sunday’s watching the games on the big screen.

“Well.” Andy startled Sharon out of her reverie. “Work isn’t going to get done with the two of us staring at the ocean all day. Let’s go woman.” He smacked Sharon on her silk-clad butt on his way back into the bedroom.

Sharon shook her head with an affectionate roll of her eyes. Her husband was so excited to have the whole the family and the squad coming over for a traditional Fourth of July barbecue that he could hardly contain himself. Almost a year ago they’d looked at their first house together and he’d been nearly giddy when he said to her, “An affordable house in the Hollywood Hills and a family to share it with,“ only to have those dreams come crashing down when the realtor informed them that the house had black mold. That had been the end of that. Now his dream was finally coming true. They were married, had five children between them and a comfortable home they could share with family and friends.

****

They found Rusty still in his pajamas sitting half asleep at the island in the middle of the kitchen. His head was propped on his hand and he was half-heartedly spooning cereal into his mouth.

“I would have made you breakfast,” Andy said.

“Mm…I needed a break from all the eggs.”

Sharon gave Andy a shrug. She had bought Andy a state of the art grilling station with gas, charcoal and wood options, along with several burners as her house-warming gift to him. Every morning, since they’d moved in, he'd gone outside, cooked them all eggs and turkey bacon, and grilled wheat toast, which they ate outside on the old farmer's table they had bought at the Long Beach Antique Market and had set up under the pergola.

Andy stood with the carton of eggs in his hand. “Would you rather have French toast?” He asked Sharon.

“French toast sounds lovely.” She sat beside Rusty at the large dark wood island with the granite top and three chairs that came from her condo bar and asked, “Why are you up so early this morning?”

Rusty’s narrowed eyes fell on Andy where he stood in his pajama bottoms and gray t-shirt at the coffee/tea bar they had set up along one wall. “Ask your husband.”

Sharon bit back a smile. Andy was always “your husband” now when Rusty was irritated with him. “Andy?”

“What?” He turned to see her looking at him expectantly. “Oh for god sake I asked the kid to put up a little patriotic bunting.”

“A little? Geez, you should see the stuff he bought.”

Sharon continued to fight her smile. She had found a man whose sense of occasion was every bit as strong as hers.

“Where is Ricky, isn’t he going to help?”

Rusty gestured toward the yard. “He’s already out there.” His older brother and his stepfather were two peas in a pod. He wasn’t sure who was more enthusiastic about the party, Ricky or Andy.

“Sharon, you want a cappuccino?” Andy was still at the coffee bar. They had gotten an espresso maker as a wedding gift and once he had figured out how to use the damn thing, he had become obsessed with it. Cappuccino was his new drink of choice.

“I’d love one.”

He set to work and soon the kitchen was filled with the sloshing and gurgling of foaming milk. Sharon accepted the large ceramic mug he handed her when it was finished and, sipping at the froth, she followed him through the dining room. They had kept her dining room table and chairs, only now it sat under an elegantly scrolled iron chandelier in the Spanish Revival style of the house. Once outside she sat at the table, leaning back and enjoying the peace of the morning while Andy cooked at the grill. The little waterfall that ran from the hot tub into the pool gurgled soothingly and it was nice to listen to birds chirping rather than the sound of traffic.

“Dammit!”

Okay, so maybe not so peaceful. “Ricky?” She looked over to the far end of the patio where Ricky had been hanging red, white and blue bunting from the freestanding stucco fireplace and where he was now cursing and hold his hand. “Are you okay, honey?”

“I just hammered my fu…frakking thumb.”

She rose and went to him to take look. “Frakking, huh?” She lifted a brow causing him to grin.

“You still don’t see it?” He asked.

“No, I don’t.” One day during the holidays while she was baking Christmas cookies Emily and Ricky were home and the two of them were watching some Sci-Fi program called Battlestar Galactica with Andy and Rusty. They called her in to take a look and kept talking about how much she looked like the lead character who happened to be the President.

“Mom, Laura Roslin could be your twin.”

“I’m not sure I‘d go that far.” Sharon was not generally a sci-fi fan but that day she had gotten hooked on what they referred to as BSG. It wasn‘t anything like what she had expected. She had also fallen hard for the love story between President Laura Roslin and Admiral William Adama, sobbing at the end when Laura died. She had even seen a tear trail down Andy’s cheek and she’d never seen him cry over a movie or TV show. “She just looks so much like you, “ he’d said. She had assured him that this was real life and in real life, women did not always have to die at the end.

****

“I swear to God if he serves up that dry, flourless, sugarless, tasteless thing he called a cake or tofu or whatever health food kick he’s on now, we are going home.”

Andy rolled his eyes at Sharon. “Provenza’s here.” Sharon looked up from where she was rearranging food on another table she’d set up under the pergola to see Provenza and Patrice coming around the house from the side yard.

“Sharon, everything looks beautiful. I can’t believe how much you’ve gotten done in a week.” Patrice took in the red white and blue bunting draped along the house, the patriotic balloons and the big American flag tacked to the side of the gardener’s shed. She and Louis had helped the Flynn’s move in last week, well, she had helped and Louis had sat around on the couch shouting out orders as to where things should go…and grumbling when Andy ignored him.

“Thank you, Patrice.” Sharon took the large bowl Patrice handed her.

“Potato salad,” Patrice said. “My grandmother’s recipe.”

“It looks delicious.” Sharon set it down next to what she had already laid out. Baskets of tortilla chips, salsa, and her favorite garlic guacamole, mounds of cheese, crackers, and salami, bowls of olives and pounds of jumbo shrimp and cocktail sauce.

Andy watched his friend eyeing the table, sniffing appreciatively. “But since you might not like what we’re serving, I think you ought to eat this.” He handed Provenza the veggie platter he was about to set on the table.

“Now, now, Flynn, I may have been a little hasty in my judgment.”

“You think?”

Patrice leaned into Sharon. “And they’re off.”

“Papa Andy! Mimi! We’re here.” Tyler and Scotty raced around the house throwing themselves at Andy and Sharon.

“Indeed you are.” Sharon swung Scotty up onto her hip, while Andy lifted Tyler.

“Mimi?” Provenza asked, his lip quirking at the cutesy name for his elegant Commander.

“When Andy and I got married they wanted to know what to call me. I told them they could pick. We went through the choices, they liked Grammy Sharon but thought it was too long so they shortened it to Mimi.”

“I think it fits,” Amy said, eyeing her boss who was wearing a low cut one piece navy bathing suit with tiny white stars and a mid-length red sarong tied around her slender waist… “You sure as heck don’t look like anyone’s grandmother.”

“And she’s not sucking up this time,” Julio said.

Sharon smiled at them appreciatively then asked the boys. “Where are your mom and dad?”

“They’re coming. We wanna go swimming.”

“Sorry about all this,” Nicole set a couple of bowls down on the food table while Dean followed her carrying various flotation devices. “I told the boys that you said you had floats for them to keep here but they wanted to make sure.”

“Wait until you see what I’ve got.“ Andy set Tyler down as did Sharon with Scotty and he beckoned them to follow him to the shed. “Mark you come too.” Mark grinned at Julio who nodded.

“Go with your Uncle Andy.” Mark raced off. He had gotten to know Tyler and Scotty at the wedding so Julio knew they were all going to have a good time.

“Whoa! That’s so cool.” The boys were gushing enthusiastically over Andy’s choices. Three oversized floats, a killer whale, a great white shark and an alligator. However, what really got them excited was when he pulled out several large squirt guns that looked like bazookas.

“Look mom!” Tyler ran to Nicole to show her one up close. “Papa said they’re Super Soaker Zombinator’s. They kill zombies.” Nicole showed her appreciation and he ran off back toward the pool where Andy was filling the guns with water.

“A Zombinator?” She questioned Sharon who shrugged.

“Don’t ask me. Your dad picked them out. In fact, I think he was just as excited about them as the boys.”

“Not surprising,” Provenza rumbled. He shook his head watching Andy filling the excited boys' water guns. “It looks like he bought out the store.”

“He wanted to make sure there were enough for everyone. And…he figured it wouldn’t be just the boys who would want to use them.”

“He figured right.” Amy watched with amusement as Ricky, Rusty, Coop, Julio, Buzz, and Wes all went to check out this new toy.

“Men,“ Patrice shook her head good-humouredly. “They never really grow up.”

“Not true. You don’t see me over there,” Provenza said.

“Speaking of which,” Sharon eyed him. “Aren’t you going to put your bathing suit on?”

“I don’t wear bathing suits.”

“Not even to swim?” Amy asked.

“I don’t swim. I do, however, like to eat.” He grabbed a plate and started filling it with food.

“Hello, Captain. I mean Captain Sharon. I mean Commander…uh Hello, Sharon.”

Sharon would know that stuttering southern drawl anywhere and turned with a welcoming smile.

“Brenda, Fritz. I’m so glad you could make it.” She wasn’t sure they would come. She was still close to Fritz, of course, they had a great working relationship, but while she and Brenda were no longer adversaries and had even come to a sort of tentative friendship, they would never be close. They were just too different. And with Fritz and Brenda working through a long-distance marriage with her in Atlanta and him in LA, the last time Sharon had seen them together was at her and Andy’s wedding,

“Your house is beautiful, just beautiful.” Brenda felt awkward. She always did in social situations. At one time, she had been so close to these people. She’d been their chief. But when she walked away from Major Crimes, she never looked back. That’s just the way she was. People were in her life or they were out of her life. She had no long-term friendships or ties and now she felt like she hardly knew them at all. And she had certainly never known them like this. Seeing them all here, in Andy and Sharon Flynn’s--and would she ever get used to saying that---backyard they really looked like a family. She got updates from Fritz so she knew what was going on in her old department and she knew that Sharon Raydor, of all people, had created a bond between the squad that was far deeper than the one they’d had working under her.

***

Otis Redding was singing about sitting on the dock of the bay and Sharon was relaxed, listening to the music and sipping on a frozen margarita while watching the guys roughhousing in the pool. She had taken her dip and was cool and content. She watched Ricky dunk under water and come up with Rusty on his shoulders, Julio did the same with Mark, Dean with Tyler and then….Andy with Scotty. She leaned forward anxiously in her chair.

“He’s okay, Sharon.” Patrice rested a comforting hand on her forearm. “The clot is long gone.”

“I know.” She tried to release her tension. “I guess old habits die hard.”

Patrice smiled sympathetically and then glanced over at Andy. “He’s really in his element out there.”

“Are you kidding me? He’s been waiting for this kind of thing since the day we closed on the house…no let me take that back, I think he’s been dreaming about this from the day we decided to buy a house together.”

The softness in the look on Sharon’s face as she watched her husband and kids caused Patrice to draw another conclusion. “I think maybe you’ve been looking forward to this just as much as him.”

“Am I that obvious?” Sharon sipped her drink, relishing the tang of the lime and kick of tequila.

Patrice shrugged and laughed. “Yeah, actually you are.”

“I guess I just …” she paused at the prickling sensation of tears stinging her eyes. “I never thought I’d have this in my life. I’m just so grateful. For Andy, for our family, for all of this. It’s something I never had with my first husband.”

The boys began to shriek with laughter as their game of “chicken” began, drawing the women’s attention back to the pool. “Enjoy it now honey, you might be wishing for some of that peace and solitude real soon.”

After their game of ‘chicken’ and a spirited water polo match, the boys started a cannonball competition. Julio had made the biggest splash so far, thus, he was winning when Scotty called out to Sharon, “Mimi, you do a cannonball.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Tyler said. “Mimi’s skinny, you gotta be big to make a big splash.”

“Thank you Tyler, I love you,” Sharon blew him a kiss.

“And what do you mean by big?” Julio feigned outrage. “Are you saying I’m fat? You‘re going to pay that for that ninito.” Julio tossed him in the air and Tyler came up sputtering and giggling.

“You’re gonna win, Uncle Julio,” he assured the now laughing man. “I don’t think Mimi can do a cannonball anyway.”

“What do you mean you don’t think Mimi can do a cannonball?” Sharon took off her sunglasses and turned on her best Darth Raydor glare.

Andy grinned. “When she looks at you like that boys, you better watch out.”

“That’s right you better watch out. You watched me dive into the pool.”

“Diving’s different.”

“Well, I can sure as heck do a cannonball.” Sharon set her margarita glass down, stood, tossed off her wide-brimmed hat, untied her sarong and jumped in the pool cannonball style. The boys all cheered for her but still declared Julio the winner.

“Close your jaw, Brenda Leigh,” Provenza smirked.

Brenda did, but still had a funny look on her face. “If you would have told me 10 years ago, that Andy Flynn would be married to Sharon Raydor and that I’d be sitting by their pool watching her do a cannonball I would have thought you were on hallucinogens.”

“Join my world, Brenda Leigh, join my world.“

With the cannonball competition over the guys left the pool to set up a volleyball net in the grass with almost everyone participating in a rousing game. Everyone that is, except for Provenza who laid in a chaise lounge calling out his critiques.

“That was lazy Flynn; you could have gotten to that one.”

Sharon turned with her hands on her hips. “Which Flynn are you referring too, Louis?” Her sweetly asked question was laced with an underlying deadly edge.

“Remember, when she looks at you like that you gotta watch out,” Tyler said, remembering what Andy had told them.

“I’ll keep that mind. Of course, I’d never call you lazy, Commander. I was referring to your lazy ass husband.”

“Oh yeah, if you think you could do better why don’t you come out here and play?” Andy shot off.

“Yeah Louis, come on,” Patrice called to him.

“Ye Gods, I don’t think so.” Provenza pulled his little white hat down over his eyes and pretended to take a nap.

Andy rolled his eyes and hit the ball over the net. He loved this, it was what he had always wanted, a big family, music, noise, laughter, people arguing, and football games in the backyard. The only thing missing, other than Emily of course, was a dog or two but he was sure that would come eventually.

As the afternoon progressed more guests arrived, the doctors Joe and Morales, Gavin and Andrea, Andy’s son Justin, Judge Steven Grove and his wife Linda and even Leo Mason and his family. Andy stood at the grill in his American flag swimming trunks and flip-flops deftly flipping burgers, hot dogs and the chicken shish kebobs he had been marinating overnight, while also keeping an eye on the vat of barbecued pulled pork staying warm on one of the burners. He changed the Sirius station he’d had playing out over the Bose outdoor speakers, a wedding gift from Ricky, from ‘Margaritaville’ which they’d been listening to all afternoon, to the Dodgers game.

Along with the meats Andy was cooking, the potluck side dishes included a variety of salads--- Caprese, Caesar, broccoli, potato, macaroni, and pasta---coleslaw, baked beans, garlic bread, and cornbread. There were also plenty of desserts, cookies, brownies and blueberry pie. But when everyone had finished eating Sharon went inside to get the piece de resistance. A large strawberry sheet cake she had frosted with whipped cream and decorated with big fat blueberries and lines of sliced strawberries in the design of the American flag. She popped in two sparklers and lit them so when she walked out with the cake it was shooting sparks everywhere.

The kids were thrilled.

As the day turned to dusk some of the partygoers left, while others followed Andy, Sharon and their family down to the beach to watch the small fireworks display the town was going to set off on the pier. There were a couple of bonfires and a small live band playing patriotic favorites. Mark, Tyler, and Scott saw the vendor trucks set up on the edge of the beach and convinced their parents they needed a Kona Ice to watch the fireworks. When they got in line Andy and Sharon continued on to find a good spot.

The breeze off the Pacific had a slight chill with the tide coming in so Andy set their blanket up fairly close to the bonfire. He sat with his knees lifted, Sharon between them, her back to his front and he wrapped his arms around her. Little kids ran around on the beach waving sparklers, random firecrackers went off and colorful orbs of fire lit the sky from private backyard displays. The night sky over the Pacific sparkled with stars in a natural display of beauty. Sharon leaned back against Andy, his voice warm, tickling her ear. Content, that is how she felt, purely, completely content.

The band had just finished that old Arlo Guthrie hit “City of New Orleans” when the rest of the family joined them with their Kona snow cones.

“We got one for you Papa and Mimi,” Tyler held out red-topped snow cone.

“Tigers Blood,” Mark said.

“Sounds delicious,” Andy took the cone.

“You have to share,” Tyler said, turning to glare at his younger brother. “Scotty dropped one.”

Seeing that Scotty was about to burst into tears, Sharon reached out and took the little boys hand. “It’s okay Scott. I’m still so stuffed from all that food today; I couldn’t possibly eat a whole snow cone. “

“See, I told you, buddy.” Rusty prodded the boy.

Andy held the snow cone out to Sharon who took a bite off the sweet icy top. “See, we can share, no problem. Now, why don’t you guys get settled in before things get started.“

A whistling noise filled the air and suddenly the sky was alight with dazzling explosions of color. The fireworks had begun.

*****

When it was over, the crowd cheering at the finale, the band had one last song. A rousing sing-along that was one of Sharon’s favorites not just because it was about the beauty of the nation but because it really summed up what America was at its best, a government of the people, by the people, and for the people as Lincoln said in his Gettysburg address. And, even the boys could sing along to this one.

This land is your land, this land is my land From California to the New York island From the Redwood Forest, to the Gulf Stream waters This land was made for you and me

As I went walking that ribbon of highway I saw above me that endless skyway And saw below me that golden valley This land was made for you and me

I roamed and rambled and I followed my footsteps To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts And all around me, a voice was sounding This land was made for you and me

When the sun comes shining, then I was strolling In the wheat fields waving and dust clouds rolling The voice was chanting as the fog was lifting This land was made for you and me

As I went walking I saw a sign there And on the sign it said "No Trespassing." But on the other side it didn't say nothing, That side was made for you and me.

In the shadow of the steeple I saw my people, By the relief office I seen my people; As they stood there hungry, I stood there asking Is this land still made for you and me?

Nobody living can ever stop me, As I go walking that freedom highway; Nobody living can ever make me turn back This land was made for you and me.

This land is your land and this land is my land From California to the New York island From the Redwood Forest, to the Gulf Stream waters This land was made for you and me.

Happy Birthday America! Proud of your past, looking forward to your future, surviving your present.

#sharon raydor #andy flynn #shandy #Major Crimes #shandy fourth of july #sharonmattered #because this is how it should have been

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