“What reason will you give Mallory? I don’t think she needs to know about your marital problems,” he said, trying to be diplomatic and getting back to the important part.
“I won’t tell her that,” Natalie said. She fidgeted with one of the buttons on her jacket. “And, well, I had hoped maybe you would just ask her to come. If you asked, it wouldn’t seem, you know, um, bad or anything.”
Ah, back to living pretenses. Natalie was an expert at that. Micah had no idea what kind of reason he’d come up with for why Mallory should move in with him for the last few weeks of school. He’d have to ponder that one. “Does Dennis know you’re here? Telling me how bad things are?”
“Of course not,” Natalie said and her cheeks turned slightly pink—though it was hard to tell under all the makeup. “I’m just not sure what else to do at this point.”
“I’ll call Mal tonight,” Micah said. “I’ll talk to her about it, and then I’ll ask to talk to you.”
Natalie’s face relaxed as she stood up. Micah took in the leather jacket again, the boots, the designer jeans, the hair. She’d said money was tight, yet she had likely spent the equivalent to his monthly truck payment just on what she wore today. But that’s how she operated—always had.
“I hope things work out for you guys,” Micah said. “For everyone’s sake. The last thing our kids need is another broken home.” He bit his tongue to keep from pointing out the details of what she was wearing and how screwed up her priorities were. He thought instead of the kids. This needed to be about them.
She looked up at him and met his eyes. “You know, Micah,” she began, adjusting the strap of her purse on her shoulder. “Sometimes I think back to you and me and I wonder why things ended the way they did. You’ve been a good dad to our kids, and sometimes I think if I’d just—”
“Don’t,” Micah cut in, though part of him strained to hear it. In all the years since their divorce she’d never made the slightest insinuation that she might share some of the blame for the failure of their marriage. Her saying it now, however, was completely inappropriate. “You’re married to Dennis. Don’t say something to me that would hurt him if he heard it. Make this work with him.”
She held his eyes a moment longer and looked embarrassed. “I’d better go,” she said. “I still have to stop at the store.”
Micah nodded and led her to the door, shutting it behind her without saying anything else. He closed his eyes and let out a breath, falling forward a few inches until his forehead hit the door, knocking his hat off in the process.
If I’d just—
What would she have said if he’d let her finish?
Chapter 23
Idaho Falls, Idaho
Saturday, May 17
It had been a very long week for Chrissy, full of job hunting, sewing some summer dresses for Lupe, tension with Livvy, and far too much time to think about everything that wasn’t going right. When Saturday morning finally came—moving day—Chrissy held on tight to Rosa’s hug, maybe too tight. But her niece held on too, trying to hide the fact that she was crying. Chrissy looked up and met Livvy’s eyes over Rosa’s shoulder. Livvy quickly looked away and swallowed, shifting from one foot to another. The boys had already gone out to sit in the car idling behind Doug’s horse trailer, which was stuffed full with the rest of their possessions. Finally, Rosa released her grip and Chrissy pulled back, trying not to cry—really trying—but a few renegade tears crept out anyway.
She wanted to say a hundred things. You’ll be okay—I’ll miss you—I’ll still see you anytime—What your mother is doing is wrong. But she couldn’t form the words, so she just smiled and adjusted Rosa’s hair around her shoulders. “Te quiero”—I love you, she finally said. That summed it all up anyway. Doug hated it when Chrissy spoke Spanish. Would he let the kids speak it anymore?
“We’re only in Ammon,” Livvy said, but her tone was cautious, which supported Chrissy’s theory that as much as Livvy wanted to pretend this was okay, she knew it wasn’t. That she was willing to do it anyway was no consolation.
“Too far,” Chrissy said, still looking at Rosa. It might only be five miles in distance, but it changed everything. The kids couldn’t come over any time they wanted to; Chrissy couldn’t see them every day. They’d be living under the roof of a stranger, a man with low enough morals to have a woman and her three children move in with him. The gamut of fears Chrissy had traveled through this week had built upon the stress of not being able to find a job and had left her depressed and angry.
Rosa nodded, tears in her eyes, and finally turned and ran outside, leaving Livvy and Chrissy alone.
The tension hung thick until Chrissy couldn’t hold back. “This isn’t right, Livvy,” she said. “What kind of man is he? How do you know he won’t hurt your kids?”
“Don’t preach to me,” Livvy replied as she turned to the door. “Doug loves me.”
“Then marry him.”
“I’ve done that, and I’m not doing it again unless I’m sure it will work out.”
“Then what kind of commitment is this?” Chrissy said, unable to hide her exasperation. It wasn’t that she wanted Livvy to marry this poor excuse of a man, but she needed to make a point. If Livvy loved him, then she should do it right. If she didn’t do it right, then maybe she didn’t really love him. “Do you remember how disgusting it was when Dad would bring women home? Do you remember laying awake at night, knowing what was happening in the next room? And to sell the house—your house—to pay off his stuff? He’s taking advantage of you, Livvy.” It seemed ridiculous that she even had to say that out loud. It was so painfully obvious, and yet Livvy couldn’t—or wouldn’t—see it that way.
Livvy looked up, her jaw tight and her eyes showing her frustration at Chrissy’s lack of understanding. “You don’t know what it’s like to raise three kids by yourself.”
“By yourself?” Chrissy erupted, her arms flying into the air and startling Livvy. “I have been like a second parent to those kids, Livvy. I’m here every day. They know me; they trust me. They are safe with me.”
Livvy was shaking her head as she turned toward the door. “It’s not the same. They have been raised in a family of women. They need a man around.”
“Not like this they don’t,” Chrissy said, feeling desperate to do something. “What will they learn about relationships if this is what they see?”
“They’ll learn that love is good,” Livvy said. Her eyes were pleading, as if searching for validation Chrissy would never—could never—give her. “Love is what makes life worth living.”
“Then love them enough to not cheapen yourself like this.”
“You have never been in love, Chrissy. You don’t understand.”
The words were like a slap across her face. “Because I don’t find my self-worth in a man’s bed, I don’t know what love is?”
“Stop judging me!” Livvy finally screamed, her hands balled into fists at her sides. “If I wanted a sermon, I’d go to Mass!”
“Maybe if you’d go to Mass, you wouldn’t need a sermon!”
Livvy shut her mouth and glared at her sister. “You are so jealous of me,” she finally said, her voice soft and slithery.
Chrissy couldn’t dispute the truth. In many ways Livvy had everything Chrissy wanted and it killed her to see Livvy treat her life like this.
“They are not your children, Chrissy. And you can just stay here, be kept warm by your Bibles, and take comfort in your righteousness. The kids and I are starting a new life with Doug.”
The door shut, and Chrissy moved to the window in order to watch the truck pull away from the curb. She closed her eyes slowly, just in time for the tears to come again. Livvy was gone. The kids were gone. She was more alone than she’d ever been before.
Chapter 24
Oceanside, California
Chressaidia pushed open the fading wooden door and strode into the office, stopping just a few feet away from the desk, where a heavy white man
with a graying beard sat talking on the phone. It was a Saturday, but they’d suspected they might find him here, and they’d been right. No need to wait out the weekend.
She’d found Mr. Holmes.
Her body was healing well, but taking long, fast strides reminded her of her lingering tenderness. She would be grateful when all the reminders were gone.
“Yes, on Monday. Bye then,” he said into the phone before hanging up.
She stood there and stared at him.
“Well, well,” he said. “Is it my birthday already?”
She didn’t smile or show in any way that she’d even heard his depraved joke. Instead she extended her left arm and pulled back her sleeve.
He stared at the black-and-red tattoo located a few inches below the crease of her elbow. His face fell and the lascivious look in his eye turned to one of fear.
The image inked on her skin was of a red cornstalk winding around a black cross. The corn, a foundational element of survival, represented the Guatemalan people. Red represented the blood shed in behalf of the country. The cross symbolized the holiness of their calling to defeat the current government and save the Guatemalan people from the poverty forced upon them by the upper class. It was a symbol all generals received at the time of their appointment. She’d had it done early in order to help her attain her goal, and she was counting on her father overlooking the presumption of her self-appointed rank.
Mr. Holmes mumbled an apology in Spanish and averted his eyes as she dropped her sleeve, glad he hadn’t noticed how freshly-done the tattoo was.
“English,” she said. “Where is my product, Mr. Holmes?” He had accepted payment for five hundred assault weapons that were supposed to have reached her father’s army months ago. As tensions rose on the front lines, the missing Mr. Holmes and his guns were put aside. Most of the generals agreed that the shipment had been lost. She and Eduardo had tracked him down, however, and it had only taken a week. Eduardo had proved himself to be very valuable.
“I have them in storage, but I’m being watched. After the sting in November, I don’t dare go near them. I lost three of my men and more than a hundred M-1 rifles in that raid.”
She knew all that. It had been in the report he’d sent a few days after the raid on the loading dock, a few weeks before he’d disappeared for good. She’d heard the details discussed among the generals. “And yet, you hold the rest. Because of that, our armies are dying.”
“But if I am caught, you have no one to gather them for you. I can’t be reckless.”
“It’s been six months!” she hissed, leaning forward slightly and putting her hands on the desk. “It is only the commander’s mercy that has kept you alive this long, and you dare argue with me? I have come for them.”
His eyebrows came together, but only for a moment. His face went red. “They sent a girl to do my job?”
“They sent a general,” she said calmly, removing the small .22 derringer from her purse. Though the caliber was small—only a two-shot capacity—the gun was easy to carry, and she was well trained. A bullet was a bullet, after all.
She did not point it at him. Instead, she pressed the barrel sideways against the left side of her chest, the sign made at the time every soldier pledged their allegiance to the People’s Army for Freedom. It was clear she would not hesitate to act upon part of her pledge, eliminating any person who stood in the way of her mission.
He stared at the gun and swallowed, adequately humbled.
“They sent me because you are failing them, and they are giving you one more chance to preserve your life. Do not give me any reason to doubt their judgment. Do not forget that when you pledged your allegiance, you also pledged the life of your family. To fail us is to fail them. Where is my product?”
The features of his face softened and he looked down, showing his surrender. “It’s in a storage unit in National City. But I’m being watched. I can’t go near it.”
“Which is why I’m here.” She sat down carefully. “Write down the address and storage unit number. I need the key, all copies of it, and if anything you tell me is less than true”—she fixed him with a cold look—“I will come back and kill you.”
Chapter 25
Knock, knock!”
Amanda let herself in, scanning the living room before spotting Chrissy in the kitchen washing dishes. She closed the door behind her as Chrissy said, “Hey.”
“Hey back,” Amanda said, watching her friend closely. “Cam gave me the day off—let’s go do something wild and crazy.”
Chrissy snorted and plunged her hands back into the soapy water. “Like what? Go grocery shopping?”
“Ooooooh,” Amanda said with sarcasm. “That would be awesome. I hear Smith’s has pork loin on sale.”
Chrissy chuckled but her heart clearly wasn’t in it. Amanda took a breath and leaned against the wall. It was her goal to get Chrissy out of the house today. Livvy’s leaving was no small thing and though Amanda hadn’t wedged herself into the situation, she knew how hard it was for Chrissy. Unfortunately, she didn’t know what to do to fix it outside of convincing Cam to do Saturday by himself so she could be with her friend.
“Are you washing dishes by hand?” Amanda said after a moment.
“My dishwasher broke,” Chrissy said, moving a bowl to the other side of the sink.
“When?”
“A few weeks ago,” Chrissy said. “My home teacher checked it out for me and officially declared it dead.”
Amanda moved up behind Chrissy. “Um, you need to get a new one. Automatic dishwashers were the pinnacle of women’s liberation. To choose against using one is an insult to your gender.”
Chrissy gave her a bemused look. “I’m unemployed and—”
“Horrendously cheap. I know,” Amanda finished for her, moving to her side and turning on the tap so she could rinse the dishes piling up in the sink. “But you need a new dishwasher.”
“No, I don’t,” Chrissy said, shaking her head.
“Oh, yes, you do,” Amanda said, putting the clean dishes on the rack to drain. “And you need lunch.”
Chrissy sighed. “I’m not in the mood. It’s been a long day.”
“It’s one o’clock in the afternoon!” Amanda said. “And you need to get out of here. I’m buying.”
Chrissy looked at her and lifted her eyebrows. Amanda was glad to see that even amid the lousy events of the day Chrissy had done her hair and makeup. That meant she wasn’t too depressed. “You’re buying me a new dishwasher?”
“Um, no, but I am buying lunch and then I’m going with you in order to force you into buying a dishwasher, which is worth almost as much as it will cost. Besides, Dennings is having a six-months, no-interest sale on their appliances.”
She reached over and unstopped the soapy water, then grabbed Chrissy’s arm and pulled her away from the sink. “You deserve a new dishwasher, Chris, and you need to get out of this house and think about something else.”
Chapter 26
National City, California
Chressaidia turned the key to free the padlock, removed it from the hinge, and pulled up on the garage-style door. It rolled up and she entered the storage unit, pulling the door shut before turning on the single light, which was barely any light at all. She squinted into the semi-darkness and moved toward the U-Haul boxes stacked along the back wall as her eyes adjusted. The boxes were labeled with tags like “Kitchen cabinets” and “Guest bedroom.” She was impressed with Mr. Holmes’s attention to detail. She’d fully expected to find wooden crates with “AK-47” written in bright orange spray paint. She opened each box in turn, identifying the different parts that, when assembled, would build the weapons to save what was left of her country. There was only one way to have freedom, and that was to exterminate the enemy.
After each part had been identified, she spent a few hours counting every piece to make sure the numbers matched the invoices
Mr. Holmes had sent six months ago. When she finished
the last box, she made a note on the paper, closed the box, and stood. The numbers matched; the order was complete. Her father would be glad to hear it.
She let herself out, locked the unit, and hurried back to the beach house. Frederico would be home soon. She didn’t want to explain why she hadn’t been home all day as she said she’d be. Tonight, after Frederico went out like he always did, she’d come back and move the guns to a new unit—one only she knew about. It wasn’t far from this one, but Mr. Holmes would not be able to find his way back to the guns should he try to double-cross her.
Chapter 27
Idaho Falls, Idaho
Fourteen percent!” Chrissy said too loudly, causing a few people to look at her and Amanda to take a step closer to the counter where Chrissy had been working on her credit application with the cashier. “That’s ridiculous.” She liked to think she was extra-sensitive because of Livvy and the kids leaving, but even if the rest of her life smelled like roses, she’d flip over a fourteen-percent interest rate. So much for Amanda’s stupid idea of buying a new dishwasher to cheer her up.
The woman who’d been helping her smiled weakly and shrugged.
“Why is it so high?” Amanda asked in a very reasonable voice.
“Well, for someone with a fair credit rating—”
“My credit is excellent,” Chrissy interjected.
“We run all our financing through Guardman, and they reported your credit as fair.”
“Then they made a mistake.”
Amanda nudged Chrissy with her shoe and gave her a chill-out look. Chrissy knew she was overreacting, she just didn’t care. She couldn’t get mad at Livvy anymore; she couldn’t rage against Bedis; she couldn’t shout at Brandon or any of the other guys she’d dated who hadn’t married her and given her a family of her own to obsess over. This lady was as good as anyone else.
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