Tell Me I’m Safe: The Past Life - Book 1

by Utt, Kelly

  Two weeks later, Ali was sitting at a table alone, studying for law school exams at the food court in Patriot Park mall. Odd choice, as I pointed out, but it was Christmas time and she had always loved the festive environment at the mall that time of year. Kids were all smiles riding the big, pretty carousel nearby, and the smell of freshly baked cookies filled the air. The music coming over the loudspeakers had Ali humming Have a Holly Jolly Christmas when she noticed me. I eased down at the table next to hers and our eyes met. As she tells it, I was a cool drink of water. I don’t know about all that, but she says she loved my lush head of dark hair and friendly blue eyes. She remembers thinking right away that I had a family-man vibe about me and that I was surely already married.

  She was radiant. Like a beam of light. Her golden brown hair fell just below her shoulders and framed her elegant long neck and jawline. I thought she was out of my league. I was smiling. A lot. And I’m pretty sure it was a goofy smile, too. I couldn't seem to stop myself, even though I was trying hard to play it cool. I had zero game. Ali jokes with me now about how I was trained by the United States government to withstand torture in a prisoner of war situation, yet I came completely undone when I first saw her. She always asks how that even makes sense, and I don’t have a good answer.

  “Hey,” I managed, nodding in her direction while grinning from ear to ear.

  “Hey, how are you doing?” she said back, warmly.

  “Good, um, good. Good,” I stammered, wishing I’d been able to keep it to just one good. Ali chuckled. She turned and looked down at her textbook, but definitely wasn't reading anything.

  Neither of us had been planning to meet anyone that night. In fact, I was wearing one of my least favorite sweaters and felt self-conscious about it. The sweater was the kind I’d set aside and intend to get rid of, but for some reason would pull it out of the closet when I wanted variety. I think Mom gave it to me. It was black with a turtleneck, and it had a snowflake design woven in small, straight rows. Let me just say, that snowflake design was a far cry from the sophisticated snowflake lace design on the handcrafted mugs Ali set out for the movers. And besides, I’m not sure how many grown men even wear sweaters with turtlenecks or snowflake designs on them these days. Over the years styles have, thankfully, changed.

  Ugly Christmas sweater or not, I’m pretty sure I saw Ali’s face flush with excitement as my gaze rested back on her and my huge smile returned. I don’t think the smile ever left; maybe for a couple of seconds as I assessed the “goods.” I must have seemed pretty enamored, so she figured she’d give me an in.

  “Are you from around here?” she asked. “Need any directions, or restaurant recommendations, or anything?”

  “Nope. I'm good,” I said. Another good. Damnit. She laughed heartily out loud this time and covered her mouth with her left hand. No ring.

  I looked down, so she looked back down, until about ten seconds later when I guess she could feel me staring at her again. I couldn’t help it. I could not take my eyes off of her. She was magnificent. She’d given me a chance to talk to her in more depth, but I was too flustered to take it. I was embarrassed at my own dorkiness but seemed powerless to do anything about it.

  “So what brings you to the mall tonight?” she asked, smiling her most sincere smile.

  “Just looking around,” I mumbled, then looked down again. I hadn't even taken the first bite of my General Tzo’s Chicken.

  And here’s where it gets really interesting. Ali looked down again at her book, and she swears to everything holy that something magical settled over her. She claims that in that instant, she knew like she knew her own name that she was sitting right next to that big George Hartmann Liam had told her about. She doesn't know how she knew, but she knew. She remembers her body feeling almost numb as she opened her mouth to speak.

  “Are you in the Air Force?” she asked.

  “Yep,” I answered.

  It wasn't a stretch to assume I was military, what with the short haircut and the muscles and the close proximity to a plethora of military duty stations. I figured she might have known me from somewhere. But there was much more at work.

  “Is your name George?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “George Hartmann?” she continued.

  “Why, yes,” I said, a little perplexed but having no real idea of the gravity of the situation at hand.

  “Well, Liam Hartmann is your uncle, right?” I nodded eagerly as she explained. “I know Liam and Estella, and for the past two years, he's been telling me that you and I should meet because we’d be good for each other. He says we're both knuckleheads.”

  “Liam never once mentioned you to me,” I said, smiling big, “but if you want to go out, we can certainly go out.”

  We talked for awhile in the mall that evening and went on our first date to good old Outback Steakhouse two days later. The rest is beautiful history. We were engaged within six weeks and married six months after that. Needless to say, I passed on the overseas assignment.

  Can you believe Liam? He finds the perfect woman for me, and then for two whole years never mentions her. We still give him a hard time about it. I always say Dad had to give an assist from the great beyond since his little brother fell down on the job. I mean, really, what are the odds that Ali and I would sit down beside each other at the mall, of all places? And that she’d almost instantly know she was, in fact, looking right at that big George Hartmann she’d been hearing about? It's not like she had that much to go on. She hadn’t even seen a picture. Serendipity, plain and simple. What a story.

  The movers are finished with their warm beverages now and are ready to get down to work. A tall, slender Asian man with a buzz haircut who seems to be some sort of supervisor or manager speaks for the group and outlines their plan of attack. They’ll begin by hanging padded blankets on the interior doorways and walls in high traffic areas so they don’t accidentally gouge up the place. Next, they’ll bring large items in, starting with the upstairs rooms, then the basement, and lastly the main level so as not to have to step over a lot of things sitting around. Once that’s done, they’ll move on to the shit-ton of boxes located in the interior-most section of the truck back towards the cab. Each piece is tagged with a sticker bearing a unique item number. They’ll check each one off their master list as it enters the house. I’ve heard horror stories about bad movers, but these folks seem pretty good so far. I guess we’ll rule on that once everything is inside and in one piece.

  The guys have spread out within the house and are prepping the doorways when our friends Duke and Jen pull up out front. Ethan recognizes their blue Subaru and squeals excitedly. They’ve been keeping Lady for us over the past few days since the Hampton Inn didn’t allow dogs. Ali has Leo on her hip and is smiling happily as she walks to the door to greet them and to welcome Lady into our new home. German Shepards are notoriously territorial, so we know it will be important to help Lady get properly oriented.

  Lady is such a good girl. She’s big, even for a German Shepard, so to the boys, she must look huge. She’s pushing ninety pounds. They ride her like a horse. We got her as a puppy when Ali was pregnant with Ethan, and it ranks right up there as one of the best decisions we’ve ever made. Lady is wicked smart and fiercely protective of the family. Having her around always made me feel better when I’d be gone TDY and Ali and the boys were home alone. I’d pity the person who had the nerve to physically threaten us. Lady would tear them up. She’s dark as compared to the breed standard, with solid black on her face and back and only a smattering of brown in a ring around her neck and on the bottoms of her legs and tail. She looks kind of like a big black wolf, actually. I imagine she’d look damn menacing in attack mode, especially at night.

  “Jennie!” Ali says warmly as she opens the door and reaches out her free arm to hug her friend tight. Leo lowers his head and flashes a shy smile. Ali and Jen are exactly the same height and even though Jen has dark hair and an olive complexion th
anks to her mom’s Korean descent, they look like a matched set. Maybe it’s like how old married couples end up looking alike. These two clearly go together.

  “Come in, come in, you guys!” Ali continues, standing on her tiptoes to wave in Duke as well. I pick up Ethan and walk over near my wife to greet our guests.

  We’re seriously stoked to have friends in Ithaca even though we just got here. What a bonus. Ali and Jen have been close friends all the way back to first grade in Manhattan, and Jen just so happens to be a Sociology professor at Ithaca College. Well, I say that, but the truth is Ali and Jen have been scheming about how to live in the same area together for most of their adult lives. This is a dream come true for them both.

  Jen’s husband Duke is a veteran officer with the Tompkins County Sheriff's Department and an all around great guy. He and Jen have been dating for a couple of years and just got engaged over the holidays. Duke is African American and his tall, muscular physique and impeccable sense of style are a perfect match for Jen. Together, they look like they’re straight out of a GQ photo shoot. Duke and I have mostly bonded over basketball so far, but I look forward to getting to know him better. He’s a great addition.

  “Hey, man,” I say, as I do the masculine bro-hug thing. “We’ll set that hoop up around the side of the house just as soon as this weather clears. Can I count on you to come over and help me break it in?”

  “You know it, brother,” Duke says with a smile. “You gonna let me see the entertainment situation while we’re here? This big house is causing visions of Super Bowl parties and summer cookouts to dance in my head.”

  “Absolutely. You’re speaking my language now. What good is a new house if it doesn’t work for parties, right? Come on, I’ll show you around,” I say as we head down the long hall towards the kitchen. Ethan is still on my hip and going along for the ride. I turn to look at Ali on my way and we give each other a subtle nod. Without having to say any words, we have agreed that Ethan’s with me and Leo’s with her right now. We have to keep close track of them while the movers are in the house. Jen is still holding Lady on a lead, and it looks like she and Ali will work on getting the fur baby settled in.

  Duke and I excuse ourselves as we step around a couple of movers and walk into the kitchen. “Check it out, man,” I say. “Sub-Zero and Wolf appliances. Top of the line. Red knobs on the range and everything.”

  “Nice, man, real nice. The good life.” Duke says. I feel a little self-conscious talking about things that clearly cost a lot of money, but I do it anyway because I’ve got to get more comfortable. Even though Duke earns a police officer’s salary, Jen comes from a wealthy family just like Ali does. A nice big house is no doubt in his future by virtue of who he has chosen to marry. I’m pretty sure it’s all good. Maybe they’ll even get a place nearby.

  “Did I hear that you guys are house hunting?” I ask. “It would be great if you end up with a home near us. We could be friends and neighbors.”

  “Right, right. We are house hunting. And wedding planning. And honeymoon planning. Jen has specifics in mind. I’m sort of along for that ride. She narrows down what she likes and then asks my opinion. It’s a system that works. I think,” he says with a laugh.

  “I hear that. Ali definitely listens when I have a strong opinion, but we’ve sort of agreed that if I don’t say anything, she’s free to pick what she likes. I’m rarely disappointed in her choices. This house is case in point.”

  “Noted,” Duke says. “I think that’s what’s happening with me and Jen. Hey, if we’re anything like you and Ali, we must be doing something right.”

  Ethan jumps down from my arms and runs towards the pantry. “Daddy, Daddy, show him the food room.”

  “Ok, bud, good idea,” I say as I raise my eyebrows and gesture Duke toward the huge walk-in pantry. A pang of guilt hits me. I mean, it’s technically called a pantry and not a room, but Ethan’s right. It is a room. It’s not lost on me that people are starving all over the world and we have an entire room to store our food in. Food that we can easily afford to buy and stock these shelves with. Maybe I should have a talk with Ethan about how we describe the house. But how would I even communicate these type of concerns to a four-year-old? He shouldn’t be taught to feel guilty about the house he lives in and the things we own.

  “Look, Dukie,” Ethan says as he runs around the perimeter of the pantry and traces his fingers along the built-in shelving. Ethan got the habit of shortening names and adding an “e” sound at the end from Ali. Some names don’t sound right with an “e” on the end, but any that do are sure to get that sing-songy modification when Ali’s around. Duke already knows and doesn’t mind, but decides to play with the little guy a bit.

  “Dukie, eh?” Duke says with mock skepticism. “You’ll make me sound like a Blue Devils fan from North Carolina. I’ll have to start wearing all blue and white and picking fights with Tarheels fans.”

  Ethan looks confused, but sees Duke’s big smile and knows it’s all in good fun. “Devils are red, Dukie. I know ‘cause Connor wore a devil costume on Halloween and it was red, red, red. Dark red, and with a long, pointy tail,” he says, placing his hands on his hips.

  “Connor is Ethan’s best friend from the neighborhood back in D.C.,” I add.

  “Ah, well,” Duke explains,”the devils in North Carolina are definitely blue, and they’re crazy about basketball.”

  “Basketball?” Ethan asks. “The one with the ball that goes into the high net up on the pole?”

  “That’s right, basketball,” Duke continues. “There’s a school in North Carolina called Duke University, same as my name Duke. Their basketball team is called the Blue Devils, and their uniforms are blue and white and inside the letter D, there’s a devil who wears blue. The people who like them-- the fans-- are called Dukies as a nickname for Duke. Here, I’ll find you a picture,” he says as he squats down to Ethan’s level and pulls out his iPhone to search. Ethan eagerly climbs onto Duke’s lap, fascinated, and waits for the picture to appear. Duke is a natural with kids. It’s going to be great having him around as our boys grow up. Good male role models are so important. I wonder if he and Jen plan to have kiddos of their own.

  “Duke, man, you look like you were born to be a dad,” I say with a sly smile. “Are you guys going to make that happen?”

  “Probably so,” he responds slowly, blushing. “I’d love to have some mini guys-- or girls-- of my own running around. And since you’ve got a good start on a basketball team, Jen and I only need to pop out a couple to round it out, right?”

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” I add, to the delight of Ethan who raises his arms in the air and yells, “basketball!” Duke and I join in and yell even louder, “basketball!”

  We’re happily cheering in the food room when we hear Lady suddenly start barking upstairs. I step out into the hallway and listen for a minute thinking maybe she’ll stop, but she is apparently very upset about something.

  “I wonder what that’s about,” I say, walking back towards Duke and Ethan. “I’d better go check it out. Can you two hang out together for a few minutes while I go?”

  “Yes, Daddy,” Ethan says. “I like Dukie. He will keep me safe. He’s a policeman.”

  “Right on, Ethan,” Duke, says. “We’re good,” he adds, looking up at me with a sincere expression. “Truly, no problem at all, George. Me and Ethan are having fun together. Go see what’s up with the dog. Sounds like Jen might need an assist.”

  I walk back down the long hall from the kitchen and see Ali opening boxes in the formal dining room while Leo naps on an ottoman brought in from the living room. He has his fuzzy blue lamb blanket and favorite stuffed puppy dog named Jimbo curled tightly to his chest. Luckily, our boys are pretty good at napping whenever and wherever they need to. Jimbo the puppy dog always helps.

  “Oh, good, Georgie. Jen took her upstairs to smell around and get used to the place,” Ali says in answer to my obvious concern about Lady’s bark
ing. “I’m glad you’re here because I didn’t want to leave Leo alone to go up myself, and I knew I’d wake him if I tried to move him.”

  “I’ve got it,” I say. “You stay here with little Leo. Ethan’s in the kitchen talking basketball with Duke like one of the guys.” Ali smiles and kisses me on the cheek, and even in the midst of the chaos, I break out into my goofy grin that I can’t seem to keep under wraps when I’m around her. I’d do literally anything for that woman.

  I turn the corner and begin to walk up the stairs, and I hear Jen’s distant voice urging Lady to back off. Jen is great with animals and is definitely not a pushover when it comes to instruction and discipline. I’m surprised Lady isn’t listening to her.

  “Come on already, Lady,” Jen shouts. “Down girl, down. Easy. No barking.”

  “Jen, where are you?” I call out. “What’s happening?”

  “In the boys’ room, George,” she hollers back, barely audible over the barking and closed bedroom door. “Come help me out, please. Lady sees something out the window that has her all worked up.”

  I reach the top of the stairs, excuse myself as I pass a trio of movers hoisting our bonus room sectional, and walk down the hallway to the second door on the right. We’ve already decided this will be the boys’ shared bedroom. It’s the best option out of the available bedrooms: it’s across from a bathroom and within earshot of our room on the main level, yet not too close to the top of the stairs. The door is unlocked when I try it, and I go on in.

  Lady’s barking is incessant at this point. She’s at the window looking out to the backyard down below and she is furious. The sound is loud. Jen is holding Lady’s lead and pulling hard to get her away from the window, but Lady isn’t having it. I suddenly feel uneasy. Lady means business. She has been with us almost five years, and I have never seen her like this. We got her when she was a pup, so it isn’t like she has some difficult history we don’t know about. She came from a mild-mannered family in Virginia that has one or two litters of pups each year simply for the enjoyment of it.