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Read Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four and Chapter Five.
As the newly-widowed Ellen Flanagan hurtled down I-95 in her Lexus RX towards Storrs, her only daughter, and the University of Connecticut, Detective Tom Lang stood on his pool deck in New Canaan, struggling to get the pH level in his in-ground pool to where he needed it to be. It was late September, and in Connecticut that typically means that it’s well past the time for folks to begin winterizing their pools.
Tom enjoyed the process of winterization, but this year he had put off the chore of doing it because the east coast had been enjoying something of an Indian summer. He had taken this Monday off of work at the Darien Police Department to accompany his wife to her first ultrasound, where they learned that she would be giving birth to a baby boy.
The place the two of them had bought together was something of a starter home, but it was far more affordable to live in nearby New Canaan and have Tom drive the 20 minutes to DPD every morning then it was for them to live within the pretentious confines of Fairfield County.
When the couple arrived home from their appointment early in the afternoon, Tom’s wife being pregnant had suddenly become very real in a way that it hadn’t felt before. Here, now, there was tangible proof of a human being grown inside of her stomach.
She was twelve weeks into the pregnancy, and when the doctor asked if they wanted to know the sex of the child, the couple looked at one another for a brief moment, smiled and simultaneously said “Yes” to the ultrasound technician. At the moment, the pool was helping Tom take his mind off of the fact that his world was about to be changed forever in a few short months.
He found it relaxing in a way that he wasn’t quite able to explain – a challenge to get that perfect 7.4 pH level while making sure to keep alkalinity balanced. It was a tricky dance, and it was one that he was still getting a hang of.
He knew that he had a long way to go before he could head inside for the evening. Following a successful balancing of the water chemistry, Tom needed to remove the skimmer basket, wall fittings, and two ladders that sat on opposite sides of the pool.
Following that, he’d need to clean and skim the entire thing, while also making sure to lower the water level about 15 inches below the skimmer. The biggest pain in the ass (and a huge reason why Tom didn’t want to buy this house in the first place) would be getting the pool cover on. A tight fit was essential, and keeping that pool cover clear of snow, rainwater, and outdoor debris throughout the winter was a daily chore that Tom loathed.
At the moment, his pocket colorimeter which measured the pH level was reading a 6.7. The water still looked a bit cloudy, and so Tom walked purposefully to the pool house where he grabbed a large bucket and filled it with about a gallon of water from the hose on the side of the house.
He needed to raise that pH level ever so slightly, and he estimated that a gallon of water with about a half a pound of soda ash would get him to that elusive 7.4-meter reading that he so desperately wanted.
He dumped the water and soda ash mixture into the pool, checked on his wife in the living room who was now asleep on the couch, and grabbed a beer from the refrigerator. He would have to wait an hour for the soda ash to circulate throughout the pool and alter the pH level, and now Detective Lang – with a beer in hand and a pool chair to lie back on – looked out onto the expanse of his backyard, a man alone with his thoughts. It would be getting dark soon and he had to finish this pool business up before dinner. Something told him that he’d need to be well-rested for work in the morning. .
Respond
jduda@grandex.co
I still can’t believe that Terry is dead. He was a good man and a good golfer, even if he did go to a second rate school like UConn.
^excellent work
Terry isn’t dead, he just fell asleep in the kitchen and spilled a spaghetti sauce. This is stuff I tell myself
I appreciate the use of the Oxford comma, Duda.
I’m pretty sure every writer on PGP uses them. It’s surprising that Dave doesn’t edit them out, given his law background.
I’m in law school, and I will never give up the Oxford comma. I know plenty of lawyers who use it, legal writing propriety be damned.
Apparently the Army recently changed their writing guidelines to remove the Oxford comma. My Battalion Staff got in a hour argument over it. I will still use it, regulations be damned.
I work at a V10 and can’t recall anyone using oxford commas in internal or external correspondence/docs. That being said, this isn’t a hill I’m willing to die on.
This comment raised my BP, and I started composing a response excoriating shithead baby boomers who still don’t use Oxford commas, but it’s Friday god damn it and I just need to make it into the weekend alive.
12 weeks is insanely early to determine the sex of the child. Source: experience. Other than that, well done, Duda, well done.
You can have blood tests done to test for abnormalities at 12 weeks which will also tell you the gender.
Where’s the edit button when you need it? I meant determining via ultrasound like the story implied.
It will tell you the sex, not the gender.
Gtfo
I’d say it also also quite late to have your first ultrasound. My wife is pregnant with our first kid, and our first ultrasound was at like 7-8 weeks. Gotta make sure that fast heartbeat is there, or something like that.
Congrats. Enjoy these last few months of free time and uninterrupted sleep.
New Canaan is still in Fairfield County.
That being said, keep up the good work. I’m already way too invested in this.
Plus a cop in Fairfield County is going to have a hard time buying any single family home, let alone one with a pool.
Depends on the town…these guys get side deals under the table and kickbacks up here. Plus, a town gig in Darien is a sick gig. Think they start in the 80’s down there, which after you put in years as a Statie is a very nice salary to complement your pension.
I’m in the W’s and some of the cops in Westport make more between previous job pension, current salary and kickbacks than your typical hedge fund salary. It’s weird man, especially with no crime to speak of outside of Mrs. Flanagan’s catching a body .
Buying a “starter home” with an inground pool and pool house. Ok
That’s New Canaan man, a shitbox fixer-upper runs you 750. Might as well pay the extra 200 and get a pool house.
Nice job. Hopefully you get a book deal so we don’t have to read any more of your non-fiction.