WHITEOUT: Above And Beyond (Beauty 0f Life Book 10)

by Laura Acton

  Seeing Dan laugh today and noting the dark circles were less noticeable than on Saturday made Kent happy. Though Dad didn’t tell him why, he learned Dan stayed the night at their house on Friday, and after Dad picked him and his buddies up from Sean’s and Roger’s home, they hung out with Dad and Dan playing basketball. Kent chuckled, recalling he and his friends thought they could beat the old guys. Boy, were we dead wrong! We got squashed playing four against two.

  Kent recalled Saturday in more detail. As they played hoops, the heaviness which hung over Dad’s head for the previous two weeks appeared to dissipate, and he smiled when Dan laughed for the first time. Later that night, after Dan left, he overheard Dad tell Mom that Dan would be okay now. Kent figured it most likely had to do with the bank robbery where three hostages died.

  He was aware Dad had not slept well for the first week afterward. He heard him down in the basement several times, late at night, punching the heavy bag. Sometimes Kent wondered why people became police officers. They saw and dealt with all kinds of terrible things. But he was proud of his father and the rest of Alpha Team. They helped so many people and kept the city safer.

  Returning to the table to resume his work, Kent laughed at Brent’s joke then challenged Dan, “Wanna bet five dollars I can peel more potatoes than you can in five minutes?”

  Dan chuckled. “Nope. Been watching you, kid. You’d whip my butt.”

  The three worked on various tasks, and the time passed quickly as they enjoyed shooting the breeze. Kent checked at his watch and noted it was almost noon. With a genuine grin, he said, “I’d like to do this again sometime. It feels good helping others.”

  “Yes, it does. Any time you want to come, give me a buzz, and if I’m not working, I’ll drive you over. Perhaps you might be interested in helping for a few hours on Christmas Eve with me again?” Dan wiped his hands on a towel and glanced up at the wall clock, noting the time.

  “Sure, that’d be fun.” Kent enjoyed coming last year with Dad, Uncle Nick, and Aunt Lexa to pitch in after Dan hurt himself falling through a roof during a call the day before Christmas.

  “You two better go wash your hands and turn in the aprons.” Dan peered at Kent. “Your dad will be here soon.”

  As Brent headed for the sinks with Kent, he said, “I like Dan. He’s fun.”

  Kent glanced back at Dan. “Yeah, he is.” Catching sight of an older man coming into the kitchen, Kent thought he appeared sad. This place attracted so many people down on their luck … he hoped someone here could help him. Brent captured his attention with a comment, so he turned away with two last thoughts. Yeah, I’ll be back again. I like helping those in need. This is probably why Dad chose to be a cop … he goes above and beyond to help others.

  Good Deed in a Weary World

  13

  October 8

  Mayfield Soup Kitchen – 11:50 a.m.

  As the boys went to the sinks to wash up, Dan picked up a full pan of peeled and chopped potatoes to take to Gladys to be boiled. When he pivoted, Dan spied an unknown man entering the kitchen. The gentleman wore a shattered and weary expression. After delivering the vegetables, Dan approached him, consciously donning a welcoming smile. “Hi, I’m Dan. May I help you?”

  Andrew stared at the golden-haired man as recognition lit his mind. Though more mature, the hair, sapphire eyes, and bright grin he associated with a more youthful version of this man had been imprinted in his memory. His eyes flicked downward, checking the footwear, noting soft boots. Lifting his gaze, he said, “I’m looking for Ms. Bennett. I would like to volunteer today.”

  Dan nodded. “She’s in the office. Hang on a moment, and I’ll get her. Can I tell her your name?”

  He supplied only his first name, “Andrew,” wanting to maintain anonymity after all the news coverage.

  Viewing Dan Broderick’s smooth stride as he left, Andrew recalled the young athlete who inspired his son. At twelve, his boy had been socially awkward, pudgy with baby fat, and shy. Andrew tried to entice him into a sport to help him with all those things. They tried hockey, football, baseball, and soccer, but nothing interested him, and the other boys still shunned him.

  Then one fateful day, Andrew took Brant with him to deliver uniforms to his alma mater. Owning a sporting goods store allowed him to offer the school gear for their athletes at a steep discount. While there, he went to the field to talk to his long-time buddy and now track coach to find out how his team was shaping up. That is where he and Brant first spotted a fleet-footed teen running in boots.

  He recalled laughing as his pal explained his new secret weapon for winning Divisional preferred boots to track shoes. Brant’s eyes widened in awe as the blond youth sped around the quarter-mile loop. Noting his son’s interest, he decided to bring him back to watch practice several times. By the fifth time, Brant got up the nerve to move closer to the runners.

  When one teen told Brant to get the fuck off their practice field, Andrew was heartened as two other boys, and one girl intervened and sent the crass miscreant away. As the dark-haired boy and the girl wandered off to begin training, Dan remained, crouched down to Brant’s level, and engaged his son in a conversation. Andrew broke out in a huge grin when Brant beamed at him, waved, and started jogging alongside the boot-wearing runner.

  Thirty minutes later, Brant returned, his face and shirt covered in sweat and his exuberance, a ray of sunshine capable of lighting the darkest corners. The encounter cracked Brant’s shell and inspired him to take up running. Brant babbled non-stop for days about how cross-country was both an individual and team sport, and if he practiced, he might someday be as fast as Dan.

  Brant begged him to take him to all the track events to observe his newfound friend and hero compete. Unfortunately, with his work schedule, Andrew had been unable to make it to more than a couple of the local meets, but fortunately, he found the time for them to cheer Dan on from the stands in the Divisional races, both elated when he crossed the finish line first.

  Andrew never got the chance to thank the teen for helping Brant. Before Dan came along, Andrew focused so much on pushing his boy to join a team, believing Brant would make friends, he forgot the pure joy and exhilaration running brought him, and the friendships he made with people who shared the same passion. Sometimes Andrew wondered why he had been so blind not to realize Brant might enjoy cross-country as much as he did. But an unexpected encounter with a teenager who liked to run in boots and took the time treat Brant kindly changed his son’s short life for the better.

  Wiping away a tear that slipped out, Andrew gazed around the busy kitchen filled with volunteers. He spotted four teens at a sink. His heart skipped a beat when one of the boys called another Brent, which was so close to Brant’s name. Brant was supposed to be named Brent after his grandfather, but whoever entered Brant’s details into the birth registry changed the E to an A, and not catching the error until too late, Brent became Brant.

  Ever since Brant’s death, Andrew struggled to hang on and find meaning in life. Brant’s decision still befuddled him. His son was not worthless no matter how many limbs he lost. Andrew wished he had been attuned to his boy’s feelings, and not blinded to his needs once again. Something he regretted with every fiber of his being. If I could only turn back time and change things. When a woman approached, Andrew put away his thoughts.

  “Hello, Andrew. I’m Caroline Bennett. Dan tells me you wish to volunteer.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Andrew nodded. His support group leader suggested he try volunteering. He didn’t think it would help, but he was out driving Brant’s truck today and spotted the soup kitchen … and something compelled him to pull into the parking lot.

  As Caroline engaged with the new volunteer, Dan started towards Kent and his friends, noting they were almost ready to go. Frowning as Sean and Roger began to bicker, Dan yelled, “Stop! What are you doing?” when Sean shoved Roger into one of the prep tables so hard, several empty pans clattered to the tile floor.

 
First checking on Roger, to ensure he had not been hurt, Dan turned his attention to Sean. He dropped the heat and volume of his voice, hoping to deescalate the situation, and asked, “Care to explain?”

  Sean blew out a breath. “Roger makes me so mad! Always picking on me and lording over me that he’s older. He is only five minutes older. I’m sick of him, and I wish I didn’t have a brother … especially him!”

  Roger gasped and stepped back as if he had been punched in the gut. His eyes teared up. “You don’t mean that … do you?”

  All activity stopped in the kitchen. Every eye riveted on Sean, waiting for his answer, except Dan’s. He stepped to the angry teen, and placed a firm hand on his shoulder, deliberately bringing Sean’s focus to him. “Take a moment to breathe. Like this, inhale. Hold, two, three, four. Exhale.” Once Sean calmed, Dan said, “You don’t need to become physical with your brother. Talking out problems yields better solutions, buddy. What do you say we take this outside and have a little chat in private … you, me, and Roger?”

  When Sean nodded, Dan addressed Kent. “We’ll be in the rear parking lot. Can you and Brent wait out front for your dad and let him know where we are when he arrives?”

  “Sure thing, Uncle Dan.” Kent grabbed Brent’s arm and hurried out of the room as he whispered to his best friend, “Dan will set them straight. Overheard Dad tell Mom that Dan knows how to connect with upset teenage boys and soldiers, and one day he will be a decent all-around negotiator, not only an excellent sniper and tactician.”

  “I hope so, cause if someone doesn’t stop Frick and Frack from fighting, I’m afraid one of them will get hurt real bad,” Brent answered as he passed an older man who looked sad on their way out.

  As Dan led the boys out the back door, Andrew stared as he realized where else he had seen Dan. He reeled, recalling the news reports which showed three officers in the distance, one bald male, one short female, and one blond male being put in NRB sedans. The three who took lethal shots at Whitehall Financial. Dan experienced Brant’s death, first-hand.

  Outside Mayfield Soup Kitchen – 12:15 p.m.

  Pleased he averted World War Three and managed to facilitate a civil dialog between squabbling siblings, Dan leaned on the wall as Jon’s truck pulled out with all four boys in the cab. Both Sean and Roger apologized, and hopefully, they would treat each other with more respect moving forward.

  He glanced at the cloudy sky and took a moment to center himself. Missing Brody today, he used the loss of his brother to help the teens realize how painful life would be if they ruined their relationship over silly arguments.

  Checking the time, Dan noted he still had about an hour and a half left before he needed to head over to Bram’s. He pushed off the bricks and turned to go in the rear entrance. As Andrew exited, Dan stopped and offered an apology. “I’m sorry about the boys causing a ruckus. Things like that don’t often happen here. Are you leaving?”

  “I gotta go.” Andrew hastily wiped at the tears in his eyes. Once he realized Dan had been at Brant’s horrific death in an official capacity and forced to kill one of the six in the suicide pact, talking to him about how he helped Brant as a boy flew out the window. He doubted Dan would remember one little boy from twelve years ago. If he reminded him, it might cause Dan heartache, and there was enough sorrow in this weary world.

  Noting the man’s worn and saddened expression, one which evoked his desire to offer assistance, Dan decided peeling potatoes could wait a few more minutes. “I’m willing to listen if you want to talk.”

  Andrew shook his head and headed to the parking lot.

  Rebuffed, Dan’s gaze followed Andrew through the lot, noting he halted next to an old, beat-up truck. When the man began to sob and slide down the door to the asphalt, Dan hustled towards Andrew. Something niggled in Dan’s mind as he approached … and his eyes landed on the license plate holder, which read Sullivan Sports Supply.

  The memory of the night he ran away from Ottawa and ended up in Toronto after hiding in the back of a truck under a tarp, flooded in as he viewed the Maple Leafs’ logo on the personalized plate. RUN FREE. Dan sucked in a breath. My life is so full of strange coincidences. Wow!

  Dan slowed his pace, not wanting to spook the man as he grappled with his recollections. He came closer and stopped. “I’d like to help if I can.”

  Andrew peered up as raw pain etched his features. “You can’t.”

  “Try me.” Dan crouched down.

  The motion reminiscent of how Dan spoke to Brant years ago brought forth a surge of emotion. “He’s dead. He’s never coming home.”

  Dan registered the Canadian Armed Forces sticker on the back window, and his gut twisted, sensing Andrew referred to a soldier. “Who is he?”

  “My son,” Andrew sobbed.

  “He was in the Army?”

  Andrew nodded. “Kandahar. He didn’t make it home.” It was true. His son left, but Brant never came home. Oh, he initially believed his boy returned, but the events at Whitehall showed him the boy he raised and loved with his every breath died on the battlefield the day he lost his limbs. Only a shell of the once vibrant young man returned.

  A profound desire to help this grieving father enveloped Dan. This man most likely drove this truck the night he surreptitiously hitched a ride. A fortuitous trip that changed the course of his life and brought him to Bella. He hoped he might be able to make a difference in Andrew’s life in return, and give him a belated thank you of sorts.

  Dan sat and quietly responded, “It hurts, I know. I served. I lost people close to me. It always hurts so badly at first. I listen well if you want to talk.”

  “You can’t understand. You never lost a child. A buddy is not like a family member,” Andrew mumbled.

  Raking a hand through his hair, Dan contemplated his words, hearing Nick in his head. Don’t contradict. Find common ground to connect. “Your right about not losing a kid, but two of my family died. I understand the devastation, emptiness, and agony when a person you love is ripped from your life. I also witnessed the anguish and grief my mom and dad endured.”

  “Who did you lose?” Andrew blinked away his tears, but more filled his eyes, so he used his sleeve to clear them and focused on Dan.

  Dan sighed and opened his heart. “When I was nine, a car hit my little sister as we stood at a crosswalk near our home. It knocked her right out of her shoes. I watched Sara die. It tore me apart … shredded my heart. I pushed my parents away, the pain was too much, and for the longest time, I believed they blamed me for her death. I’m the big brother, and I should’ve protected her.”

  “But you were nine … and it was an accident.”

  “I understand now, but as a kid, well, Sara’s death messed me up. The only thing which soothed my soul for many years was running.” Dan drew in a ragged breath. “I lost my older brother too. That one was my fault.”

  “Wait ... you just said you were the eldest brother.” Andrew’s brows drew together, confused.

  “Sara was two years younger than me, Brody, four years older.”

  “How did Brody die?”

  Dan’s eyes shut, and he attempted to keep emotion banked. “I was sniping terrorists over a mile away using a .50 caliber. After the recon, the major gave the cleared to fire order. When I went to do IDs, I found my brother. He shouldn’t have been there. I should’ve recognized Brody before I blew a hole through his chest. I snuffed the light from his eyes.” Dan’s voice hitched.

  Inhaling through his nose, and exhaling rapidly through his mouth, Dan opened his eyes and locked gazes with Andrew. “I killed Brody … the brother of my heart. So, yeah, I understand the raw, burning ache and emptiness left when someone you love dies.”

  Andrew gaped, inhaled sharply and stared at Dan for a long time as he comprehended the agony Dan must’ve suffered. He didn’t quite know what to say, but his concern grew for the man who, as a teen, showed such kindness to his boy. “How do you handle that?”

  Shifting his hip
s, Dan tugged his wallet from his back pocket. He withdrew two photos to show Andrew. “I keep Sara and Brody close. People might think I’m crazy, but I talk to them as if they’re still alive. I’m aware they aren’t, but it helps to share my day with them … little things, happy, sad, and mundane.

  “Sara loved to find shapes in puffy clouds, and every time I look up on a cloudy day like today, I’m reminded of her bright smile and laughter. As for Brody, well, music was important to him. He helped me through a lot of rough patches by sharing his love of music with me.”

  Andrew studied the picture of a little girl with sparkling emerald eyes standing next to Dan as a youngster. Shifting to the other snapshot, he viewed a boy with brown hair and jade eyes. “They appear happy.”

  “They were. I have other pictures of Brody as an adult, but this is my favorite one. He was nine, and it was one of the best days of his life as a kid. This was taken a few days before his father murdered his mother in front of him. Brody didn’t have it easy growing up. He could’ve become jaded, but he believed in the beauty of life and made me believe too.”

  Dan’s words filtered back in. Brother of my heart. “He isn’t your biological brother? Did your parents adopt him?”

  A lopsided grin grew as Dan considered what life might’ve been like if that occurred. “I wish. Wow. Would’ve been something special. No, we met as adults in basic training. Brody liked to say our souls connected, and I tend to believe him. Never felt so safe with anyone else. My brother understood me, and me him. This is my third Thanksgiving without him.”

  Dropping his head a little, Dan realized he was the one doing all the talking, but he couldn’t help it. “Want to hear something else crazy?”

  Somehow, someway, sitting here with Dan and chatting was like a soothing balm on Andrew’s searing heart. “Sure.”