by Linda Hawley
Chapter 16
BELLINGHAM, WASHINGTON
The Year 2015
With Elinor due home for spring break this weekend, the last thing I wanted to think about or discuss with her was the Herkimer, especially considering Armond’s last words before he died. After work, I went by the Co-Op to get some fresh ingredients for the weekend. I saw Summer restocking shelves.
“Is this what you’ve been promoted to, Summer?” I teased, surprising her while she leaned over a canned-goods shelf.
“A little bit of this, a little bit of that. That’s why I’m here,” she responded cheerfully, standing to give me a hug. “What’re you up to?”
“Elinor is coming home this weekend for spring break.”
“Oh, that’s so nice. Is she bringing a boyfriend?”
“She’d better not. She’s too young, and it’s too soon,” I replied.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, that’s what all moms say.”
“I’m just happy she’s coming home at all. She’s barely called me since she went to college,” I complained.
“She’s a big girl now. She’s all grown up.”
“Well, not to me.”
“Feed her well, give her some money, buy her some new clothes, but don’t ask her to do any chores while she’s home,” Summer said, schooling me.
“Who are you? WikiCoach?”
“I know it’s tough without Armond, but let her go a little.”
“You have the most uncanny ability to unnerve me at the most inopportune moments.”
“That’s a lot of big words. Be careful now. Don’t hurt yourself.”
I laughed at her sarcasm; her coaching wasn’t lost on me.
“I know you’ll have a great time while she’s here.”
“We will. I better check out. Enjoy your stocking,” I offered with a wave.
As I went to the checkout, I pondered Summer’s advice. She always knew what to say. Let her go, she’d said.
I’ll try.
Lulu was the first to hear the rental car pull up in the driveway. I rushed to the door, seeking to embrace my daughter.
“Oh, hello there,” I said, startled, as I met a tall, broad-shouldered man with olive skin, nearly black eyes, and very dark brown hair.
“Mom, this is Eliott Belle,” Elinor said, holding his arm.
“Hi, Eliott. I’m sure you can guess who I am,” I said, with a surprised smile.
“Hello, Mrs. Torgeson. I’m pleased to meet you,” he offered sincerely with a beautiful smile, then bent forward and kissed me on both cheeks.
“French?” I asked him, as he stood on the porch.
“Très bon. My parents were born in France, but I was born here,” he answered, as I watched his mouth. It naturally upturned at the corners, making him seem perpetually happy.
“Two points for you, Eliott. Elinor and I love France and the French,” I pronounced with a smile. “Won’t you come in?”
“Oui,” he said, stepping into the house. Elinor stopped to give me a big hug while I stood beside the door.
“First of all, Eliott, please call me Ann. Second, it’s been quite a while since I’ve been to France, so please don’t judge my French too harshly,” I cautioned him with a smile.
“Thank you, and I wouldn’t think of it,” he said politely in perfect English.
“Darling, where is the toilet?” Eliott asked Elinor.
“It’s down the hall, to the left.”
Eliott moved down the hall, and I heard the bathroom door close.
“Quickly, tell me why there is a six-foot Frenchman in my house?” I asked Elinor quietly.
“He’s my boyfriend.”
“I figured that part out. Why is he here, and why have I never heard of him until now?”
I remembered Summer and what she had told me in the store. Did she know about Elinor’s boyfriend?
“I did mention that I had gone on a couple of dates, remember? Let’s talk about this when we have more time,” Elinor whispered.
“A couple of dates? But now he’s here…okay, okay, we can talk about it later. I’m so glad to see you,” I said, hugging her.
Elinor had thick brown hair and olive skin, courtesy of her dad’s genes. From me, Elinor inherited a heart-shaped face, broad shoulders, and a rounded backside. She was a striking young woman.
Eliott returned from the bathroom and stood close to Elinor, with his arm around her waist. His smile matched hers, even though her mouth was smaller. I looked from Eliott to Elinor, and I could see that she was smitten by this dark, striking young man.
That night Eliott offered to get some cocoa from the store when we decided to make brownie pudding. Elinor and I finally had a chance to speak privately.
“The first thing I want to know is whether you told Summer about Eliott,” I demanded good-naturedly.
“No, Mom. You’re the first to know.”
“Are you sure, because she said something to me about you bringing a boy home.”
“She did?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Maybe she’s psychic,” Elinor teased. “Mom, did you notice that both Eliott’s and my names begin with E, just like Dad’s and your names both start with an A?”
“Oh goodness gracious, Elinor. That’s a silly little thing that Armond and I used to joke about. It has no significance.”
“Mom, both you and Dad always told me that it’s the unusual that you should pay attention to,” she countered.
She had me there.
“How serious is it, Elinor?” I asked softly, looking into her eyes.
“He’s the one, Mom,” she replied, blinking evenly at me with her large hazel eyes and unusually long eyelashes.
“Why haven’t you told me about him before now?”
“I know I should have. But I’ve just been so caught up with school—”
“And Eliott, I think,” I interrupted.
“Honestly, I just wanted you to see him in person, instead of me describing him over the phone.”
“You’re so beautiful,” I said, holding the right side of her face with my hand, unable to question her further. “Of course Eliott would love you. Who wouldn’t? You’re smart, beautiful, spiritual, and so insightful. Even from a young age, you were a mature old soul.”
“I love you, Mom,” she whispered, hugging me.
I hugged her back but refused to be distracted. “What else do you need to tell me?” I asked in her ear, sensing there was more.
“Be nice to him. Get to know him. Because he’ll ask me soon, I think, and I’ll say yes,” she firmly stated.
“Okay, Elinor,” I acquiesced, having learned long ago that to argue with her once her mind was set was futile.
“Promise me you’ll have a long engagement—at least a year?” I pleaded.
“A year?” she blurted.
“A year,” I repeated firmly. “You’re only eighteen years old, Elinor.”
“Nineteen in a month,” she corrected.
“It’s two months, Elinor, and if you wait until you’re twenty, I’ll send you anywhere you want for your honeymoon,” I bartered.
“That’s the groom’s duty, Mom.”
“I don’t care about those sorts of things.”
“Well Eliott does,” she said with a stern face.
“Tell me more about him.”
“He’s college poor, like me, but his family is well off,” she said as we sat facing one another in the window seat overlooking the bay.
“How well off?”
“Well, his family is from Belle-Île. It’s a French island off the Brittany coast, the west coast of France.”
“And what, Eliott’s family owns the Belle-Île island or something?” I joked, gesturing to the islands we could see through the window across Bellingham Bay.
“No. They own most of the chicken operations in Brittany,” she replied, serious.
“Chicken farmers—that’s what his family does? Please tell me they’re organic chicken farmers, and not s
ome kind of chicken factory.”
“They’re the most respected grower of chickens in France. Their operations are worth 1.5 billion euros, Mom. When you order a chicken at the Ritz in Paris, you get a Belle,” she proudly responded.
“Well then. I guess that’ll do. Do Eliott’s parents own the company? What’s the name of it?”
“It’s called Belle Poulet, and his father and uncle co-own it. His uncle lives there, in Brittany.”
“So, is Eliott intending to continue in the family business after college?”
“He is planning to go into the family business, and as he told you, he’s a double major: agribusiness and animal science.”
“That’s good. Let’s recap. He’s part heir to a billion-dollar corporation, smart, cute, and he loves my daughter. What’s his spiritual condition?”
“Well, he’s more practical than I am. But that balances me. He’s what I’d call grounded spiritually,” she proclaimed.
“Are you thinking of being married in Brittany? Will you move there once you graduate?” I desperately inquired.
“Settle down, Mom. We’ve decided to live in America, but Eliott will travel to Brittany regularly,” she answered patiently.
“And the wedding? Where will that be?”
“Here, Mom, of course,” she quietly assured me, meeting my eyes.
“I think I understand why you haven’t been calling me now.”
Elinor blushed. “I just couldn’t tell you over the phone. I had to bring him.”
“I can see that. Still…make it one year, when you’re twenty. Agreed?”
“Fair enough. He won’t like it, but he’ll agree,” she reluctantly gave her word.
“I’m sure his parents will be grateful.”
We had a good visit that week, while I chatted with Elinor and became fond of Eliott. I could see how the two of them meshed, and I could certainly see the mutual affection they had for one another. He seemed like an honest, grounded young man, just as Elinor had said. It was sad when they left the following week, returning to the university.
“Well, Lulu, it’s just you and me again,” I said, petting her.
She whined, as though agreeing with me.
“How about you and I go for a run?” I asked. Her bottom began to wag excitedly.
Chapter 17
WASHINGTON, D.C.
The Year 2015
Bennett was sending me to Washington, D.C., to speak at the annual conference for the Society for Technical Communication. I had no desire to lecture there, but when the Society asked me, Bennett got wind of it and pushed me ahead, thinking that AlterHydro would gain some free advertising through the exposure. The Society allowed me to choose my own topic, and I prepared a lecture called “Cut the Fat: How to Put Your Text-Bloated Documents on a Diet.” At least it was catchy. I was happy to return back East, to visit with my friends, long-since missed.
I flew into Reagan National Airport in Arlington, Virginia, got a rental car, and drove into Washington, D.C., to the Dupont Hotel. It was just a few minutes from my favorite neighborhood, Adams Morgan, where I planned to visit friends during my stay. I pulled my rental car into valet parking at the hotel and was quickly assisted by the attendant. I’d never stayed in a Washington, D.C., hotel before, since I’d lived in D.C. and had no reason to. But the valet escorted me inside, with Lulu following close behind.
“Miss Torgeson is checking in,” the valet told the front desk clerk.
“Good evening, Miss Torgeson,” the short, stout clerk beamed. He was balding on top and had bulging eyes. Homer Simpson’s come to life.
“Hello,” I replied with a smile.
“I understand you’re here to lecture at the Society for Technical Communication’s annual conference. Is that right, Miss Torgeson?”
“Yes, I am,” I confirmed. I hoped I was in a good room.
“We’re pleased to have you.” He punched some of the keys on the keyboard. His eyebrows shot up momentarily, and he looked back to me. “One of the conference sponsors has upgraded you to Level Nine here at the Dupont Hotel,” he informed me, clearly impressed.
What’s that?
“Have you stayed on Level Nine before, Miss Torgeson?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Let me explain, then. Level Nine is intended for our special guests, you see. We will see to your every comfort through personalized service—” he began.
“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I have Lulu, my dog, with me. She’s fully trained. Is she going to be allowed on Level Nine?”
“Why of course,” he exclaimed. “We aim to take care of every need that you have. We will even walk her for you,” he told me cheerfully.
Is he on a happy drug?
“You’re booked into one of our luxury suites on Level Nine, and Brian here will take you and…Lulu was it?”
“Yes, Lulu.”
“Aha, very good. Brian will bring you and Lulu up to Level Nine and show you all the amenities.”
“Thank you very much,” I responded and began to turn. “Oh, excuse me…” I began, turning back to the desk clerk.
“Yes?” Homer replied. I felt the smile moving over my lips.
“Can you tell me which sponsor upgraded my room? I’d like to thank them.”
He began to type something into the computer.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Torgeson. For some reason, there’s no information in our system revealing who upgraded the room.”
That’s odd.
“Hmmm, okay. Thank you,” I replied and turned to follow Brian.
Brian led the way up to Level Nine, talking the whole time about how great it was.
It’s just a room.
When he opened the door to my suite, however, I started smoking the same stuff that Homer and Brian were. The corner room was covered on two entire sides with windows and had a view all the way to the Capitol Building and the National Mall. I stopped and gawked at the view. Brian stood near me, nodding his silent agreement.
“I lived in this area for many years and had no idea you could get this kind of view from Dupont Circle,” I said.
“It’s a nice view,” he purred.
The room itself was appointed in leather and other natural textures. The bathroom was pure marble, with a Jacuzzi tub and a separate glass-enclosed shower. The room was luxuriously efficient. I’m gonna enjoy that tub tonight, I told myself.
As Brian explained the dedicated concierge on Level Nine, I started to zone him out, exhausted from my flight. Brian could see this, and he offered to have my room attendant unpack my luggage for me. I declined, instead opting for a bath. I gave him a tip, hoping twenty dollars was enough.
He glanced at it. Clearly not offended—that’s good.
“Would you like anything else, Miss Torgeson? Perhaps we can walk Lulu for you?”
“I stopped at a park just before we arrived, so she’s okay. But thank you, Brian.”
“Have a good evening, then,” he responded cheerfully, closing the door behind him.
Lulu had already found the dog bed they had put in the room, before I even noticed it. I sat next to her for a minute, rubbing behind her ears.
“So here we are, Lulu—back in D.C. Does it smell different?”
No answer.
“Thank goodness the airline allowed me to bring you with me in the passenger cabin.”
Virgin Atlantic had broken new ground the previous year by issuing an advertising campaign with their new policy of flying not only humans but their pets as well. I’d never flown with Virgin’s new policy, so I didn’t know what to expect. They treated both of us perfectly, and she was allowed in the cabin right next to me, where a seat had been removed. In its place was one of Virgin’s new dog-bed seats. It was a clever invention, which restrained Lulu with an adjustable harness so that she would be safe and not wander through the cabin. We were allowed to board first, with the other animal flyers, and a special pet attendant harnessed Lulu and explained that she h
ad to remain restrained throughout the entire flight. The attendant discreetly explained that I could purchase a doggy diaper at any time. I giggled at that. She smiled. From my perspective, it was all worth the cost of a second seat.
Lulu snuggled into her bed, her eyes droopy.
I’d rarely ever seen her tired. “Lulu, I think you’ve got jet lag.”
Elinor and I had picked out Lulu from a litter with four females. From the beginning, I could see that she was trainable with a joyful disposition. When she was a puppy, I trained her to ring a bell that I had hung from the front door whenever she wanted to go outside to potty. I found that her bell training was very helpful when we traveled.
I hung her bell on the hotel doorknob.
Turning on the water, I began to run my bath as I peeled off my clothes.
Being back in D.C. turned my mind back to my years with the CIA, as I soaked in the bath.
Chapter 18
LANGLEY, VIRGINIA
The Year 1990
“It’s been a year now, John,” I pleaded with O’Brien.
“You think I don’t know that?” he huffed. “How can a woman so young be so infuriating?” he fumed, glaring at me.
I remained silent.
“Ann, you think you’re ready, and I think you need more training. We differ in opinion, and since I’m the elder—”
“Whoa, you better be careful there, John, her sensory IQ is much higher than yours,” Bob cautioned, approaching us.
John shot Bob a nasty look for his interruption.
“She wants to go live. Not one viewer has gone live after only one year of training,” John said, exasperated. “Grace has been training for longer, and she’s not live,” he passionately pleaded.
“Let’s move into the observation room and talk about it,” Bob commanded, nodding for me to join them.
John spun around and purposefully strode over to the glass room in front of us. When we were all inside, Bob closed the door behind him and turned to us.
“What were you thinking, having this argument in the middle of the viewing room?” he asked, looking from John to me and then back again, red in his cheeks.
“Lig dom! Fág dom i m'éinear!” John said, scornfully requesting that Bob leave him alone.
