The Buck Stops Here

by Mindy Starns Clark

  I sat back in my chair, stunned. Though I knew Tom’s work with the NSA was important, I had never understood the situation to be of quite this magnitude.

  “You know,” the president said, “we don’t even give smallpox vaccinations in this country anymore. If this enemy of our nation had managed to introduce the virus into the general population, the results would’ve been devastating. From what our scientists tell me, one man with this virus can infect another thirty people before he even knows he has it. And it would increase exponentially from there. Just catastrophic.”

  “Wow.”

  “In a way, Callie,” the president continued, “your husband was an unfortunate casualty in our fight against terrorism. Tom’s efforts helped save the world, even though no one outside of those directly involved—and now you, of course—can ever know.”

  I looked at Tom, who smiled at me humbly before dropping his gaze. He was already my hero.

  Now I knew he was my country’s unsung hero as well.

  Fifty-Four

  After a final thanks and farewell to the president, Tom and I were delivered back to the NSA office and released. Our cars were there, and so we dropped mine at the hotel, got into Tom’s car, and drove to his sister’s house on the North Shore. He had called ahead, knowing that the story of Armand’s arrest was all over the news and that they would be wanting a full explanation. On the way there, we constructed our story, a mix of truths, half-truths, and blatant omissions. Tom’s family knew nothing of his real work, of the silent service he provided to his country. I understood now that with the NSA, you did what you had to do but kept it to yourself, all for the greater good.

  I asked Tom about Beth’s stock holdings, about how a woman with only a part-time job could be worth so much money. He explained that some of her early computer work, right out of college, had been for a few high tech start-up companies that paid heavily in options to make up for meager salaries. Fortunately for Beth, she had sensed the unstable nature of the dot com market and had cashed in before the crash, converting her holdings to more tangible, long-term investments.

  “You bought her house for her, didn’t you?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Tom said, “and I have supported her financially over the years so that she could continue to be a full-time mom even after her divorce. I wouldn’t let her touch her stocks. That’s for her future. I’m taking care of her present—at least until the girls are grown.”

  I reached over and slipped my hand into his, squeezing tightly.

  “You’re a good, good man,” I said.

  When we arrived to Beth’s house, she and Irene and Veronica and Phillip were all waiting for us, confused and anxious. While the twins entertained little Tucker on the swing set out back, the adults sat in the living room and Tom laid out our modified version of things. If there seemed to be holes in our story, they didn’t catch them, at least not at first. Finally, though, Beth looked at me and asked, straight out, what my connection was to all of this beyond my relationship with Tom.

  I glanced at him and answered as honestly as I could. I said that a few years ago, when James was out of prison (not exactly a lie), he was staying in a vacation home in Virginia (true), and he went for a drive in a speed boat that he didn’t know how to control. He ended up accidentally killing my husband, Bryan. I said that it wasn’t until Tom and I began dating that I realized that this awful connection even existed between me and Tom and James. What I didn’t add was that Tom knew of the connection all along—and that, in fact, it was the reason he created his foundation and hired me in the first place.

  “It was difficult to understand at first,” I said, “but now that all of the facts have come to light, we have decided to put it behind us. Beth, I hope this isn’t something that will come between you and me either.”

  “That my ex-husband accidentally killed your husband?” she said, the shock evident on her face. “Callie, I’m so sorry. But I can move past it if you can.”

  I told her about my meeting with James’ mother, Tilly, in Georgia and how the woman had cried over how badly she missed the twins. Beth got tears in her eyes as she understood that their estrangement was indeed her ex-husband’s doing. She decided to contact Tilly as soon as possible and attempt to mend that relationship.

  And that was basically how the conversation ended. Veronica was the most truthful when she sat back and said, “Well, I don’t know about the rest of you, but as sad as I am about Armand, I’m also kind of relieved. The FBI’s case always seemed so unfinished and incomplete. Now I think we finally have closure.”

  Everyone agreed, nodding. Then Leah burst into the house from the back door.

  “Uncle Tommy!” she said, grabbing hold of his hand. “I want you to know something!”

  He put his arm around her and gave her his full attention.

  “What’s that, honey?” he asked.

  “Even though you didn’t bring us any Barbies this time, we love you anyway.” She smiled proudly at me, to show that she had learned her lesson well.

  “Who says I didn’t bring Barbies?” Tom asked. “Did you take a look in my trunk yet?”

  She squealed and ran back outside to get Maddie, who also squealed. Tom took the twins out to the car, Phillip went out back to see after Tucker, and Beth and Veronica headed to the kitchen to start cooking up dinner for the whole clan. That left me and Irene standing in the living room together. She took an uneven step toward me and then gave me a long hug.

  “You are a dear woman,” she said, pulling back to wipe tears from her eyes. “I believe my son is one lucky man.”

  “Oh, no, ma’am,” I replied. “I’m the fortunate one.”

  Veronica also must have felt quite blessed when, an hour later, Tom and I presented her with a check to Family HEARTS for one million dollars. As I gave my usual spiel, she and Phillip hugged each other, knowing that their biggest dreams for their charity could now become a reality.

  There came a point, later in the evening, when we were all outside. Tom was manning steaks at the grill, the other adults were sitting around on the patio, chatting, and Leah and Tucker were digging in the sandbox. I was at the swing set, pushing Maddie. I was exhausted but happy, thinking that this was one of those golden moments I would love to be able to freeze and save for posterity. There was something so utterly domestic and normal about it. Tom and I could do with a lot more normalcy in our lives.

  “Hey, Callie,” he called to me across the yard. I looked over at him.

  “Hmm?”

  “I just realized that I asked you something this morning, and you never gave me an answer.”

  My heart started pounding in relief. All day I had been afraid that his proposal was some eleventh-hour-if-we’re-going-to-die-anyway-I-might-as-well-ask-you sort of thing. Now I stepped away from the swings as everyone stopped talking, their eyes suddenly on us.

  “I’m sorry,” I called back to him. “Could you repeat the question?”

  Grinning, he put down the spatula and stepped around the grill, off the patio, and onto the grass, where he got down on one knee. From his pocket, he produced a small velvet box, which he opened to reveal a not-small-at-all diamond ring.

  “Callie Webber,” he said, “will you marry me?”

  The children gasped.

  “It’s just like Prince Charming!” Maddie cried breathlessly.

  I stepped forward, crossing the lawn until I was directly in front of him. I thought of all we had been through and all that was yet to come. Somehow, God had seen fit to bless me with true love twice in one lifetime. I didn’t know what I had done to deserve it. I just knew that with every fiber of my being I wanted to be Tom’s wife.

  Tears filling my eyes, I reached down for his free hand and pulled him up onto his feet. Looking up at him, my heart was so full of emotion that I had trouble finding my voice.

  “Yes,” I said softly. Then I said it again, more loudly this time. “Yes!”

  Epilogue

 
; “Are you ready, honey?”

  I glanced up to see my father in the doorway, looking stiff and uncomfortable in his tuxedo. He tugged at his collar with one finger, his face bright red.

  “You okay, Daddy?”

  “Just nervous,” he replied. “You know I don’t like being up in front of people.”

  “Nervous, nothing,” my mother said. “His sunburn’s hurting.”

  “Tom told you to wear sunscreen,” I chided him. “You should’ve known better.”

  Yesterday, to get the men out of our hair while we made the final preparations for the wedding, Tom had taken all of them deep-sea fishing in the Atlantic. They had come home with 36 tuna, one marlin, and several bright-red fishermen. Thank goodness, the groom wasn’t one of them.

  My mother lifted my hat from its stand, carefully placed it on my head, and bobby-pinned it into place. I had grown out my hair a bit for the wedding, and now it framed my face in soft waves, the perfect compliment to the hat. The whole suit looked perfect, in fact, a cream-colored silk couture Vera Wang with pearl-and-diamond buttons. Tom’s gift to me.

  Tom had given me a lot of gifts lately, including the biggest suprise of all: our very own mini yacht! Tonight, we would set sail for a two-week honeymoon through the Caribbean, after which we would settle into our new home in Maryland, about ten miles from NSA headquarters, where Tom was now based. I would continue my job with the foundation—at least until we started a family—only now it would be our money I was giving away instead of just Tom’s.

  Though we had decided to embrace suburbia, we were keeping my house on the Eastern Shore, where we hoped to spend many weekends. Between the two of us, we also owned a condo in California, a mountain cabin in North Carolina, and an apartment in downtown D.C.—not to mention numerous real estate holdings in Louisiana. I didn’t think we would lack for places to visit any time soon.

  Now, however, it was time to be married in my church’s seaside prayer garden, in front of our dearest friends and relatives. Harriet was my maid of honor, and she rushed into the room to announce that there was something wrong with the musicians. Instead of an elegant orchestra playing classical music, they had launched into a jazzy blues version—complete with harmonica—of “Blessed Assurance.”

  “That’s what you get when you marry a Louisiana boy,” I said, smiling. “I let him pick the music.”

  I stood and turned to face Harriet and my parents. Almost instantly, my mother’s eyes filled with tears, my father started clearing his throat, and Harriet let out a long, slow breath.

  “Come on, guys,” I said. “Do I look that bad?”

  “On the contrary,” Harriet said. “You look prettier than a butterfly on a daisy in a lily patch.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  My mother handed me my bouquet, and then the four of us left the church and strolled along the walkway to the prayer garden. It was a beautiful fall day, warm and sunny, the leaves just starting to turn. Our guests were seated in chairs with a full view of the water, and soon Pastor George would take his place under an ivy-covered trellis and pronounce Tom and me husband and wife.

  For now, I stood behind a row of rose bushes, waiting for the song to end and the wedding to begin. Harriet also waited, but she kept peeking at the crowd through the bushes, pointing out people we knew. So many had come here today, and I was touched by their presence. I was especially happy to have Eli and Stella here. He had lost some weight since his gunshot wound in the spring, but otherwise he seemed none the worse for wear.

  Tom’s mother appeared from the other direction on Phillip’s arm, also walking more smoothly than she had even several months ago. In the past few days, Tom’s mother and my mother had become fast friends. Now they both marveled at each others’ beautiful dresses and then turned their attentions to mine. Irene hugged me, and then she held out a small box.

  “Here’s your something old,” she whispered, “It was my grandmother’s. I want you to have it.”

  I opened the box to see a beautiful pearl bracelet. I thanked her and slipped it on my wrist, where it was the perfect accent to the buttons on my suit.

  “Oh, I almost forgot. Here’s blue,” Harriet said, reaching into her pocket. She pulled out an outrageous blue garter, trimmed with rhinestones and feathers.

  “No way,” I said, laughing.

  “Oh, honey,” she replied. “I simply insist. Let Tom find it later, to kick off the honeymoon.”

  Face burning, I let her hold out her skirt to block the view while I discreetly slipped the garter over my ankle and halfway up my thigh, where it would be hidden by my dress.

  “You need something borrowed,” my mother said. “How about a handkerchief?”

  I accepted the lace hanky that she proffered and tucked it against the handle of my bouquet, hoping I wouldn’t need it during the ceremony.

  That left something new. I supposed my outfit would do. The twins came next, each holding one of Beth’s hands, prancing daintily up the path in their flower girl frocks. They looked like little angels. At last night’s rehearsal dinner, we had given them bride and groom dolls, and ever since they had been deeply involved in their own little pretend world.

  Beth kissed my cheek, showed the girls where to stand until it was time to go forward, and then took the usher’s arm and headed up the aisle to find her seat. The song ended and then the band toned things down and launched into the more traditional tune of Pachelbel’s “Canon in D.”

  “Oh, thank goodness,” Harriet whispered. “As much as I love dancin’, I didn’t want to have to do the St. Louis Strut up the aisle!”

  My brother, Michael, appeared then, ready to escort my mother to her seat. Phillip and Irene went first, then Michael gave me a brotherly little wink and a wave, took my mom’s arm, and went. Harriet squeezed my hand and took her place behind the twins at the entrance of the garden. That left me and my father. I slipped my hand into the crook of his elbow and we got in line behind Harriet. I started to say something to him, but one glance at his face told me that he was pretty choked up already.

  Ahead of us I could see the backs of everyone’s heads and the pastor taking his place up front. Then Tom and his best friend, his minister from California, came in and stood there as well. Even from where I was standing, Tom looked more handsome than I had ever seen him.

  It was time to meet my groom at the altar and become his wife.

  As the song entered the final stanza, the twins started their long walk up the aisle, followed by Harriet. My dad and I waited, and as we did, I could already feel tears welling up in my eyes. Blinking them back, I glanced down at the bouquet in my hands, in which I had placed a single white rose, in honor of Bryan.

  I had loved him. Oh, how I had loved him!

  But now it was time to start anew. This morning, I had received a beautiful delivery of flowers from Bryan’s parents, Dean and Natalie Webber, with a note wishing Tom and me the best on our special day and thanking us for the magnificent telescope that had been donated in Bryan’s memory to his childhood school.

  “We know the donation was made anonymously,” Natalie’s note said, “but the brass dedication plate finally arrived last week, and the order slip had Tom’s name on it.”

  Tom had never even told me that he was the one who won the bid on the telescope at the Family HEARTS auction—nor that he had donated it to Bryan’s old school. That was just like him, to do the perfect thing and never even expect an acknowledgment.

  The canon ended and the bridal march began. The people stood and turned to look back at us, smiling. As my dad and I started up the aisle, my mind was suddenly filled with a snippet of a familiar psalm: He put a new song in my mouth…

  That was my “something new,” I realized. A new song. Somehow, through all the pain and the loss, God had chosen to bless me yet again. My father gave me away and I took Tom’s arm and looked into his eyes. As I did, I saw reflected there all the love I would ever need for the rest of my l
ife.

  “Dearly Beloved,” the pastor said. “We are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony.”

  It had been a long road to get where I was right now. But all along the way, God had been there, holding me up, carrying me through, loving me. Now He was about to become the center of a union, the third strand in a cord that would not be broken.

  “Thank You, Lord,” I whispered softly as a prayer.

  Then I started the next great adventure of my life.

  Other Books by Mindy Starns Clark

  The Million Dollar Mysteries

  A Penny for Your Thoughts

  Don’t Take Any Wooden Nickels

  A Dime a Dozen

  A Quarter for a Kiss

  The Buck Stops Here

  A Smart Chick Mystery

  The Trouble with Tulip

  Blind Dates Can Be Murder

  Elementary, My Dear Watkins

  Standalone Mysteries

  Whispers of the Bayou

  Shadows of Lancaster County

  Under the Cajun Moon

  Secrets of Harmony Grove

  Contemporary Fiction

  The Amish Midwife (cowritten with Leslie Gould)

  The Amish Nanny (cowritten with Leslie Gould)

  Nonfiction

  The House That Cleans Itself

  A Pocket Guide to Amish Life

  Gift Book

  Simple Joys of the Amish Life

  (cowritten with Georgia Varozza and illustrated by Laurie Snow Hein)

  ECHOES OF THE TITANIC

  What lies echo from the night Titanic sank?

  Kelsey Tate’s great-grandmother Adele endured the sinking of Titanic and made it safely to America, where she not only survived but thrived. Several generations later, Kelsey is a rising star at Brennan & Tate, the firm Adele helped to establish 100 years ago.