by Alex Ander
“Do you like them?” Dahlia’s voice revealed her tentativeness.
“Yes…I do,” replied Cruz, her cheeks becoming more and more flushed. “I’ve never owned anything so…short.”
“I figured that out when I saw Hardy’s eyes almost come out of their sockets when he saw you in my skirt.” She turned to Hardy and put her hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure you understand that this is a joint gift, considering you’ll be getting just as much, if not more, enjoyment from it.”
“All right, all right,” he said, nodding his head. “You’ve had your fun.” He could feel his body temperature rising and wanted to change the topic. “So, where are you going that you can’t stay for dinner?”
Before she could answer his question, Cruz expressed her gratitude. “Thank you so much. I really do like them.”
“You’re welcome.” Dahlia turned toward Hardy and tried to come up with an answer to his question. “I’m…I’m meeting up with someone tonight.”
“Your father?”
Dahlia glared at him, but immediately relaxed. After all that Hardy had done for her since they had met, he had earned the right to bring up her father. “Nooo…I’m sure you’re aware that my father and I are not on speaking terms, Mr. Hardy.”
“You could be. All it takes is for one person to make the first move.”
Dahlia pursed her lips, closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. It won’t be me.
“Dahlia, I’m sure your father is having a hard time with this, too.” He watched her shake her head. “I’m the last person who knows anything about what happened between you two; however, having interacted with both of you, I’m the perfect person to say that you’re more like your father than you want to admit.”
Dahlia opened her eyes, stared at Hardy and waited. “Are you done? If so, what do I owe you for the session, doc?”
There it is again, her defense mechanism. She’s using humor to turn aside uncomfortable topics. Hardy wrapped his arm around Cruz. “Would you consider us your friends?”
With no hesitation, Dahlia shot back, “Of course.”
“As your friends, we’re asking you to keep the door open when it comes to your father. Don’t shut him out forever.”
Dahlia smiled. After having been alone for so many years and not having anyone to talk to about personal matters, hearing Hardy’s words made her heart almost leap from her chest. Not that Dahlia was keeping score, but if she added Charity, she had three people in her life she could call her friends. She could not have asked for a better Christmas present. “For you and Cruz, I’ll keep the door open.”
Pleased, Hardy returned her smile. “For the record, the first consultation is always free.”
She laughed and stared at them for several seconds before stepping forward and giving Cruz a hug, while Hardy grabbed Dahlia’s coat. She slipped her arms into the coat and overlapped the lapels. After un-tucking her ponytail from the coat, she hugged him a little longer and squeezed him a little tighter than she did Cruz. She kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you…for…everything.”
Hardy smiled, nodded his head and opened the door. While Dahlia walked down the driveway, Cruz joined him and slid her left arm around his waist. He clutched her shoulder.
“She doesn’t really have a place to go for the holidays, does she?” asked Cruz.
“I don’t think so.” He watched her Jeep Renegade back into the street. “But…she’s tough and she’ll make it through.”
When Dahlia’s vehicle had gone, Cruz snapped to attention. “I almost forgot about your present.” She pointed behind her. “Wait inside and I’ll be right back.”
Hardy stoked the fire and sat on the couch. Minutes later, the front door opened, but no one came in. He heard scratching sounds on the hardwood floors. “Cruz,” he said, listening. The noises were haphazard, moving in different directions, stopping briefly before starting up again. Getting up from the couch, he moved around it, heading for the front door. Taking a few steps, he stopped when he came face to face with a small puppy.
The dog stopped its inspection of the house and stared back at Hardy. The animal was almost all black and the size of a housecat. Its ears were small and flopped around when it moved. Its actions clearly showed it was sizing up Hardy.
Hardy raised his eyebrows and watched the puppy. He went to one knee. “What are you doing in here?” He patted his thigh. “Come here, come here.”
The dog took a few tentative steps toward Hardy, its head up and its nose trying to pick up any scent it could. The animal approached Hardy, who held out his hand. The dog sniffed his hand, but was ready to run. After thirty seconds, Hardy patted the dog’s head and neck.
“Merry Christmas, Hardy.” Cruz closed the door behind her. “I see you’ve made a new friend.”
Hardy held the dog in his arms, a smile on his face, spreading from ear to ear. He stood and met Cruz halfway. “What’s this?”
“It’s your Christmas present. Do you know what kind it is?”
Hardy had recognized the breed as soon as he saw the puppy. “German Shepherd,” he replied. “Cruz, you know I can’t have pets in my apartment. Besides, being gone for days at a time doesn’t work so good for dogs.”
She held up her hand. “I’ve got it all worked out. He’ll stay with me. Plus, my next-door neighbor loves dogs, too. He’s been caring for her since we’ve been away. I should introduce you sometime…he’s a Marine vet. Anyway, he’s happy to look after her when necessary.” She chuckled. “There was also some talk about him building a kennel near the property line…He’s a good man.”
Hardy played with the dog, while he listened to Cruz. She had all the bases covered.
Cruz patted the dog. “This gives you a reason to come see me more often.” Putting her free hand on the back of Hardy’s neck, she went to her tiptoes, her eyes going back and forth from his eyes to his lips.
He kissed her. “I don’t need another reason. You’re all I need.” He put his lips on hers for a long kiss. Five seconds later, the dog barked and they flinched.
“I should warn you, Cruz.” He grinned. “Female dogs prefer men, so she’s going to be partial to me.”
Cruz wagged her finger at the dog. “You were supposed to be on my side.” She playfully scolded the dog before stealing another kiss from Hardy. “I’m also partial to you.”
Hardy beamed and he went back to playing with the dog. His eye caught movement out the front window. “It’s snowing.” He and Cruz went to the window. Big snowflakes floated down on an angle. He felt her put her head on his shoulder. After a few seconds, he heard her let out a long and heavy sigh. “What is it?” She did not respond, so he turned his body to face her. “What’s going on?”
“I guess I’m a little homesick.” She was mesmerized by the white dots. “It’s just that our trip to see my mother was a bust, and I didn’t get a chance to visit her on Thanksgiving. It’s been awhile, since I’ve seen her.” She forced a smile. “She’d love to see this.” After a few seconds passed, she let out a deep breath. “Anyway, I don’t to ruin the moment. What do you say—” She stopped speaking, when Hardy handed her the dog.
He had his cell phone in his hand. “Maybe we can do something about that.” He grinned. “Do you think your mother’s up for an adventure?”
Chapter 44: Business Card
7:32 p.m.
Phillip Jameson took a long drink and finished the bottle of beer, while staring at the business card in his hand. Setting the empty bottle on the kitchen table, he never took his eyes away from the card, flicking it between his fingers. Picking up his cell phone, he punched in the numbers from the card. For several seconds, his thumb hovered above the ‘send’ button before tapping the ‘end’ button. He stood and went to the refrigerator to get another beer. Closing the refrigerator door, he heard the chime of the doorbell.
Clasping the neck of the bottle in his hand, he went to the living room after taking a quick look out the window. Not recognizing t
he vehicle in his driveway, he touched the butt of his weapon, while he went to the door and peeked through the peephole. He saw the back of a woman standing on the porch, her head moving in all directions. She appeared to be searching for something. He opened the door and the woman turned toward him. His beer bottle almost slipped from his grasp. His heart beat faster and his pulse quickened. Though he had not seen this woman in many years, she had not changed a bit. In fact, time had been good to her. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Standing in the doorway, he stared at her. His heart had gotten the better of his reason and he could not think clearly enough to say hello or ask if she wanted to come into the house. Breaking the silence, the woman lifted a large white bag toward Jameson and spoke.
“I seem to have bought way too much Chinese food,” said Dahlia. She gestured with her chin at the beer bottle. “Do you have another one of those?”
After leaving Cruz’s house, she had picked up Chinese food and driven around for nearly forty-five minutes. Hardy’s words, ‘As your friends, we’re asking you to keep the door open when it comes to your father. Don’t shut him out forever,’ had been playing in her mind on a continuous loop. Not realizing it, she had driven to within a mile of her father’s house, the same house in which she was raised. Not being the superstitious type, she had to admit that maybe fate had had a hand in this. On a whim, she decided to stop in and see him. To say she was feeling anxious was an understatement. Her father’s silence increased her anxiety. Maybe I made a mistake in coming here.
Jameson attempted to speak, but the proverbial lump in his throat was preventing speech. Not having seen his daughter in nearly seven years, the two were like strangers, meeting for the first time. Gawking at her, he had flashbacks to her as a little girl, wearing her hair in a ponytail and walking around the house in a dress and her mother’s high heels. Inwardly, he chuckled and the laughter helped to loosen his tongue. Jameson stepped back and swung his arm toward the interior of the house. “Of course, I’ll get you one,” he said. He watched her walk past him, taking in her every detail before scurrying to the kitchen.
When Jameson returned with her beer, Dahlia had taken off her coat and was standing in front of the Christmas tree, her eyes scanning the names on the tags of gifts. He stood alongside her and held out the bottle.
“Thank you.” She tipped back the bottle and took a sip before using it to point at the gifts. “That’s a lot of Christmas presents for someone who lives alone.” The tree must have had at least fifty wrapped items of varying shapes and sizes. “I see you still buy gifts for Mom.”
“Not just your mother. Your name’s on half of them.”
Dahlia was in the process of taking another sip, when she stopped and shifted her eyes toward him. Setting the bottle on a nearby coffee table, she lifted and moved presents to view the names on the tags. Sure enough, once she got past the items at the front of the mountain, her name was on most of the remaining ones within her reach. Turning toward him, she opened her mouth to speak, but all she could do was shake her head and stare at him. She glanced at the pile. “I don’t get it. You didn’t know I was coming here tonight. How could you have bought all these for me?”
Jameson took a swig of his beer and set it on the fireplace mantel. “I’ve been buying you presents, since that first Christmas after the incident at the FBI…Christmas…birthdays…sometimes I just saw something I thought you might like and grabbed it.” He regarded the multi-colored wrapping paper and his mind drifted off to happier days with Dahlia and her mother. “After your mother passed, I started getting stuff for her, too.” A barely perceptible half-smile came across his face. “I don’t know. Maybe, I’m nuts. Every year, I take everything out and set it up, adding a few more to the stack. When the holiday’s over, I put them away.” He paused to reflect on what he had said. “I guess…I was just hoping that you’d come home some year and…” His voiced cracked and he caught himself before the tears could flow. He grabbed his beer and took a long swallow.
Dahlia’s lower lip quivered. Growing up, she had been so close to this man. He had been an integral part of her transformation into the woman she was today. Her integrity, her character, her drive for excellence, she had received them all from him. His final gift had been to hone her skills to become one of the best FBI agents ever to pass through the agency. She swiped her fingers across her cheek. If only I’d made one phone call. She had picked up the phone and dialed his number several times. That had been the easy part. Pressing the ‘send’ button had been the greatest hurdle.
Stepping away from the tree, she took a couple steps toward him. She wanted to run, but she refrained.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her draw closer to him.
She lifted her arms a fraction of an inch before retracting them.
Jameson caught sight of the gesture and took a chance. He placed his beer on the mantle and opened his arms to her.
Dahlia closed the distance between them, literally and figuratively, sliding her arms around his waist and pressing the right side of her face against his chest. She hugged her father tighter than she had ever hugged anyone.
Jameson put one hand on her back and the other under her ponytail before kissing the top of her head.
When her arms grew weak and she could squeeze no longer, she released her father and stepped back, drying her moist cheeks. She sniffed and headed for the kitchen, picking up the bag of Chinese food on her way. “I’m going to warm this up, since I’ve got a lot of unwrapping to do.”
Jameson smiled and laughed.
“I feel bad.” Her voice rose, when she entered the kitchen. “I didn’t bring you anything.”
He heard the microwave door opening and closing. “Sweetheart, you brought me the best present a father could ask for,” he said, so only he could hear it.
Five minutes later, Dahlia returned with several boxes in her hands. Jameson met her halfway and took a few of them from her. She went to work tearing into the first present she saw.
Jameson watched her. It was Christmas all over again. She always destroyed the wrapping paper. Every Christmas, the living room resembled the aftermath of a Macy’s ticker tape parade. “If you don’t mind me asking,” he said. “And, believe me, I’m not complaining at all. But, what happened to make you want to see me? I haven’t exactly made the best of attempts to contact you.”
Dahlia stopped shredding paper and thought for a moment. “Hardy happened,” she said. She rotated her head toward her father. “He made me promise to keep the door open when it came to you.”
A puzzled stare washed over Jameson’s face and he let a puff of air slip past his lips. Fishing out the business card from his pocket, he leaned forward from his seat on the couch and handed it to Dahlia. “Hardy gave me that on the way back from LA…along with some advice.”
Dahlia recognized the numbers written on the card; it was her phone number. Realizing what Hardy had been up to, a wide smile formed on her face.
“Hardy may be a lot of things, but…” Jameson stuck the chopsticks into the box in his hand, pinching the noodles inside. “I never would have pegged him for a matchmaker.”
Chapter 45: Merry Christmas
Christmas Day, 10:13 a.m.; Leland, Michigan
Hardy had used some of the goodwill he had accumulated with the President to arrange for a Gulfstream V to fly him and Special Agent Cruz to Dalhart, Texas. After picking up her mother, the jet transported the trio to Northern Michigan. Arriving at Evelyn Hardy’s home a little after Midnight, Aaron Hardy, Cruz and her mother gave Mrs. Hardy the surprise of her life.
After introductions were made, the foursome spent the next two hours talking and laughing, until Hardy and Cruz could not keep their eyes open any longer. They went to bed, Hardy to his room, Cruz to one of two spare bedrooms, while the two mothers continued getting to know each other well into the early morning hours.
Before going to bed, Cruz had found a Catholic Church in nearby Lake Leelanau, St.
Mary’s Catholic Church. She made a request that everyone join her in attending eleven o’clock Mass. Cruz’s mother agreed and after a little coaxing from Hardy, his mother was on board as well.
When Christmas morning arrived, everyone was up and dressed in their best clothes. The mothers were upstairs doing some last minute primping, while Hardy and Cruz were in the living room.
Dressed in a gray suit with a white shirt and red tie, Hardy stared at her. She was wearing a short-sleeved red dress that came to her knees with red pumps. A white sweater covered her bare arms and shoulders. Instead of a ponytail, Cruz wore her hair down. A short gold chain with a crucifix attached to it hung around her neck. Hardy put his hand on her upper arm. “You look beautiful.”
“Stop it. You know I blush easily.” Right on cue, her cheeks flushed.
He picked up her long overcoat and draped it over her shoulders. “Come with me.” He led her through the patio door to the deck beyond.
She crossed her arms in front of her chest and hunched forward slightly. The temperature was cold and a slight breeze made it feel colder.
Knowing she would not last long in the cold temperatures, he got right to the point. “I’ve never done this before, so I’m not sure how this is going to come out. To be honest, I’ve never really had a girlfriend. I didn’t date in high school and twelve years in the military doesn’t leave much room for dating, so…” he reached into his pocket, “I’m not sure how this goes, but…” He opened his hand to reveal a small black velvet jewelry box.
Cruz’s heart raced. What’s he doing?
He pulled back the cover. Inside was a gold heart-shaped ring with several tiny diamonds around the heart. “Raychel, would you—”
“Yes,” she said, taking the box from him. She slipped the ring over her finger and held out her hand to view it.
“You don’t even know what that’s for and you said yes?”
“Well…what’s it for?” she said, admiring the ring.
