Chapter 17: Groceries, Check-Ins, and Family Dinners
Jake stood by his door, keys in hand, mentally running through his to-do list.
"Groceries. Laundry detergent. New batteries. Maybe… splurge on that fancy granola Amy keeps bragging about," he muttered to himself.
With that, he grabbed his bag and headed out.
Jake pushed his cart down the aisle of the neighborhood grocery store.
In went cereal, milk, microwave dinners, a suspiciously large bag of gummy bears, and…
"Alright, for Emily…" Jake said, tossing a box of assorted chocolates into the cart.
Boyle had once told him that kids loved the brand with the little golden bow on top. Jake figured that was good enough advice for today.
He quickly wrapped up the rest of his shopping.
He packed the items into the cab, and he said his destination to the cab driver.
The house was a two-story place with a small front yard, decorated with colorful wind chimes and a worn welcome mat that said "Come Back with Tacos".
Jake smirked at that.
He rang the doorbell.
After a few seconds, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes opened the door.
"Hi, can I help you?" she asked.
Jake gave his best polite-cop smile. "Hi, Detective Jake Peralta, NYPD. I'm here to visit Tyler and Emily Carter. Just checking in, making sure they're doing okay."
The woman's face softened. "Oh, you're Jake! Tyler mentioned you. Come in, come in."
Jake stepped inside. The living room was cozy but lively. Two other kids ran down the hallway laughing, and Emily peeked around the corner with wide eyes.
"Detective Jake!" Emily giggled, running over.
Jake crouched down and held out the box of chocolates. "For you, kiddo. Best shared with your brother, though. No hoarding."
Emily grabbed the box like it was gold and beamed. "Thank you!"
Tyler appeared a moment later, looking a little more relaxed than the last time Jake had seen him.
"Hey, Detective," Tyler said, a small but real smile on his face.
Jake stood up. "Hey, buddy. Just wanted to stop by, see how you're settling in."
"It's… it's okay here," Tyler said with a shrug. "Better than before."
Emily chimed in. "We have bunk beds! And Miss Linda makes pancakes on Saturdays."
Jake grinned. "Sounds like a good deal to me."
Miss Linda—who Jake guessed was the foster mom—joined the conversation.
"They're doing well," she said. "Both of them. Tyler's been quiet but polite. Emily's… well, Emily." She smiled fondly.
Jake nodded. "I appreciate you looking after them."
"We're happy to help," Linda said sincerely.
Jake turned back to the kids. "You two behave, alright? And Tyler…" he lowered his voice a little, just enough for Tyler to hear, "...if you ever need anything, just call me. You've got my number."
Tyler gave a small nod.
With that, Jake waved goodbye and headed out.
'Next stop, his mom's place.' He thought to himself.
Karen Peralta lived in a small bright house not too far from Brooklyn's downtown. Her living room walls were covered with paintings from her students—some good, some hilariously bad, but all hung with pride.
Jake knocked twice and let himself in.
"Mom?" he called.
Karen popped her head out of the kitchen. "Jakey! You're early for once."
Jake grinned. "Trying to make a habit of it."
She gave him a hug, then pulled him toward the kitchen table already set with dinner.
"I made chicken stir-fry. Sit. Let's eat and Talk," she instructed.
As Jake sat, she poured two glasses of iced tea and joined him.
"So," she started, "work still crazy?"
Jake shrugged. "Always. But… yeah, I've been… better at handling it lately."
"Good I'm happy to hear that." She said.
Jake smiled back.
Karen smiled warmly. "Seriously though, you seem… different. In a good way."
Jake nodded, picking at his food. "Yeah. Cases lately have been… heavier, I guess. Stuff that makes you think. Like, really think about people and their situations."
Karen gave him a knowing look. "Sounds like my boy is growing up."
Jake playfully groaned. "Please stop saying that. It makes me feel like I'm one step away from buying beige slacks and a lawn mower I don't need."
Karen laughed. "Hey, adulthood looks good on you."
They continued eating, chatting about small things—news from the school where Karen taught, gossip about distant relatives, and of course, Jake's coworkers.
At one point, she asked, "How's that Boyle person? Is he still obsessed with food?"
Jake grinned. "More than ever. He's currently trying to become a protein bar tycoon."
Karen chuckled. "And Amy? Is she still the overachiever?"
Jake nodded. "Oh yeah. But now she's trying to figure out who this 'new me' is. I think I'm confusing her."
After dinner, Jake helped clear the table and gave his mom one more hug before heading out.