CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
October 22—2:45 P.M.
Northern Scotland
“Yes, Father. We will be there right away,” Rita Kelly Drayson said into the telephone. “Thank you, Father.”
Setting the phone down, she turned to her sons.
“Get ready for church. Tomás?”
“Yes, Rita, I’m going,” he said from the other room.
John sat in the living area, reading a novel. He had been in a foul temper all day. Today, he was supposed to get married again. Today was his thirteenth wedding anniversary. Today, he was sitting on this couch reading some moronic adventure novel. Alone.
Why wasn’t he with Alex?
“It’s not safe.” Alex had said when they spoke on the phone twice a day. “Wait until we can come and get you.”
Protected like a God damn child. He had tried to leave, but his escape was blocked at every turn. Tom just shook his head at him.
“John, you know that we are needed at church this afternoon. Father Callum called to say that we are needed earlier than he thought.”
“Have a great time,” John said.
“John Kelly, you get up and get ready for church.” Rita’s face was bright-red, and her finger pointed like a dagger at his chest. “I don’t know where you have been or who you think you are, but our priest called and asked specifically for our help. You get your arse up and into the shower. Johnny, you smell like a tramp.”
“But, Rita! God damn it. I can’t do it . . . Not today.”
“You will not take the Lord’s name in vain in this house.”
“Get ready, boy,” Tom said, coming out in his Sunday best.
“If Johnny doesn’t have to go,” Will, the youngest boy, whined, “why do I have to go?”
“John has to go,” Tom said. He pushed Will back to his bedroom. “John, get off that couch and into the shower. NOW.”
With a sideways smile, Fionn, the second son, scooted into the bathroom.
“It’s occupied,” John said.
“Use our bathroom,” Rita said. “GO NOW! You are worse than a four-year-old.”
John stomped to the bathroom. While they went to Mass every week in Denver at the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception, they weren’t tied to the parish. If he was in Denver, no priest would call their house and disrupt their day. If he was in Denver, he would be with Alex. He sulked through a quick shower.
He had let himself go since coming to Scotland. His hair was a long, curly mess, and he had grown a beard. Wiping the steam off the mirror, he made some effort to comb his hair, finally giving up. Who cared? He didn’t need to look like anything for anyone. He certainly wasn’t going to be kissing anyone. They should be glad he didn’t smell. He pulled clean clothing over his wet body and followed the family out of the house.
“Will you get in the car?” Rita yelled from the front door.
“What are we doing?” John asked.
John slammed the door and stalked to the Range Rover.
“Does it matter, John?” Rita asked. She was still angry with him. “I’m glad our mother died before seeing what an elitist jerk you’ve become.”
John watched the Scottish highlands pass outside his window.
“I’m sorry, Rita. You are absolutely right. I’ve been a complete arse,” John said.
Danny, the oldest son, looked at John and then at his mother. He had to look away to keep from laughing.
“Yes, you have,” Tom said.
They drove in silence to the church. There were no vehicles in the parking lot. The family fell out of the Range Rover and walked toward the small chapel. The building was quiet.
Tom pulled the door open, and by plan, John walked first into the chapel. In the dim light, he saw a familiar figure standing near the door.
“It’s about time,” Max said. “I thought you’d never get here. And you look like crap. Come on, we have a lot to do.”
“Max?” John asked. He looked at his best friend and then at Tom and Rita. Max hugged the confused John.
Tom winked at John.
“Love you, Johnny.” Rita kissed his forehead. They hugged.
“Where’s your mum?” Tom asked Max.
“She’s in there. My father, Patrick, is waiting for you and the boys. Rita, your dress is in with Alex.”
Max nodded toward a door near the back of the entryway.
“Alex is here? Where is she?”
John ran to the door Max had indicated only to find himself nose to nose with the massive Trece. Trece held a machine gun and wore dark glasses.
“Get out of my way,” John said.
“I can’t do that, John,” Trece said. “It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.”
“Groom? Bride?” John fell back. “Wait. What? We’re getting married?”
“I will not marry you, John. Not now. Not ever. Stop asking.” Trece raised his dark glasses so that John could see his intense dark eyes. “She’s been through hell to make this happen.”
“We all have,” Raz said, coming out the door. He hugged John.
“Let her have this.” Trece dropped the dark glasses over his eyes. “She deserves it.”
“I . . . but . . .” John started.
“Come on, John,” Max said. “I have your tux. But you’re a mess. You know that Alex won’t kiss you with that beard. If you want to marry my sister, we’ve got to get you cleaned up.”
Raz put his hand on John’s arm. John looked at Raz and then at Max and laughed.
“Our area is over here.” Fionn pointed to a door on the other side of the entry. “We have tuxes, too! There’s a big guy inside called the White Boy.”
“Everyone knew?” John looked at Tom.
Tom nodded. “Come on, boy—let’s get dressed in our monkey suits.”
John shook his head. Opening the door to the men’s dressing room, he felt like he was walking back into his life—not his old life, but a whole life, where Tom and Rita and Alex and Max could live together.
Matthew raised a hand to John but did not look up from his card game with Troy and Colin. The White Boy was flexing his biceps for an entranced Will. Cian and Eoin were laughing at something Danny said.
Raz pushed John into a chair and trimmed two weeks of curly hair from his head. Looking a little more like himself, John took the clippers from Raz. He went into the small restroom and shaved his beard. Fionn gave John the razor and shaving cream he had swiped from the bathroom. With special care, John shaved off the rest of his beard.
He was going to kiss Alex today.
John smiled at himself in the mirror. He had been such an ass.
“Will you get dressed?” Tom laughed. He gave John a shot of Irish whiskey.
While the men talked or played cards, Max passed John the tuxedo one piece at a time. Adjusting the cummerbund, John realized that he had altered the tuxedo in Paris at least forty years ago . . . three very long weeks ago. Without looking up from his cards, Colin threw cuff links to John. Once they were dressed, Tom Drayson made a toast and passed out cigars.
John was excited, breathless with anticipation for the ceremony, and to simply look at Alex. Laughing, John joined the card game.
FFFFFF
October 22—4 P.M.
Northern Scotland
Rebecca stood outside the bridal changing room, watching the guests arrive for the wedding. There weren’t many—certainly not as many guests as she had invited to the Cathedral. Only family or very close friends could be trusted to attend this wedding, since most of the wedding party was supposed to be dead.
She nodded in greeting to John’s biological father and his wife. He stopped for a moment to introduce Rebecca to his wife. Rebecca blushed when he kissed her hand.
That is a very attractive man.
Joseph and Nancy Walter stopped for a hug. Joseph said they were taking a second honeymoon. Nancy beamed at Joseph, and he laughed. Freedom of movement was a wonderful side effect of bei
ng legally dead.
Rebecca never would have picked this place, this ceremony, or these people—not in a million years. After all, it wouldn’t look right for her daughter to be married here. But this tiny church in the middle of Northern Scotland was where John and Alex should be remarried. She felt this in her soul.
Rebecca closed her eyes for a moment in a silent prayer of gratitude.
Rebecca smiled as Zack Jakkman and his alluring girlfriend, Bestat Bahur, came into the church. Bestat always reminded Rebecca of the John Singer Sargent painting called “Egyptian Girl.” Rebecca made a mental note to ask Bestat about the painting. Zack blew Rebecca a kiss, and she nodded. They were a beautiful couple.
Rebecca returned to her musing. Alex’s face and body were so badly bruised that Rebecca had to research makeup to cover the welts. Claire had a combination of foundation colors created for Alex by some makeup artist in Paris. Alex wouldn’t look like she had been beaten and tortured. Not today.
Today, she was a bride.
Maria Abreu and her children stopped to chat. They were spending the week in touring the United Kingdom. Rebecca watched Maria’s eyes cloud with grief and knew how much she must long for Jesse. Rebecca held Maria to her until Maria straightened her shoulders and tucked her grief away. Rebecca kissed her cheek before a soldier escorted them to their seat.
They called him G.I. Joe. What was his name?
Claire and her children had worked day and night to add sleeves and finish the beading on Alex’s gorgeous wedding dress. They put together lovely dresses for the four bridesmaids—Erin, Samantha, Julie, and Helene. As a surprise, Claire created the most beautiful dresses Rebecca had ever seen for herself, Rebecca, and Rita.
“Blue to match our eyes, Becky,” Claire had said.
Rebecca smiled, remembering Claire’s use of her childhood name. Only Benjamin called her that . . . Benji. She was surprised at how good she felt when Claire said, “Becky.” Underneath the pretense, Rebecca knew that she was Becky at heart. Alex and Max had healed another relationship.
Rebecca let out a breath. Everyone stretched. Everyone worked. Alex’s beautiful, beaming face just a moment ago made everything worth it for Rebecca. This celebration was going to be wonderful.
Rebecca’s breath caught, and her heart stopped. For the first time in decades, she didn’t care that something didn’t look right. Maybe her mother was finally dead. She smiled at the thought.
Looking over the small chapel, she realized that the guests were seated and waiting. Rebecca tapped on the men’s room and went to see Alex one more time. Her strange and beautiful daughter, the one she had been so ashamed of, hugged Rebecca and told her that she loved her. Rebecca’s eyes filled with tears.
Alex loves me.
FFFF
The organ began to play the wedding march, and the wedding party lined up in the church pre-chamber. Matthew held an elbow out for Claire and escorted her to the front, where Frederec and Eugene waited for her. Troy held his elbow for Rebecca and escorted her to the front. Claire smiled at Rebecca when she sat down next to her. Rebecca reached for Claire’s hand. Holding hands, the mothers waited for their Alex.
Matthew escorted Rita to the front pew on the other side, where she sat beside her sons. Matthew returned to the back to stand next to Troy. Drawing their handguns, Matthew and Troy walked to the front of the church. Matthew moved across the front of the church to the left, while Troy moved across the front of the church to the right. They would guard the ceremony from the front.
Colin started the procession. His blond hair standing straight up, he escorted Julie and her tiny baby pooch to the front of the church. They separated at the front. Raz followed, with Samantha on his arm. Cian laughed down the aisle with Erin. Beaming from ear to ear, Max, the best man, came down the aisle with Helene, the maid of honor.
Tom Drayson walked John to the front of the church. Tom hugged John and sat with one arm around Rita and the other to manage the boys. John turned to look down the aisle into the church pre-chamber.
He did not want to miss even one moment.
FFFF
Alex stood in the bridal room, alone.
“You are beautiful,” Jesse said in Spanish.
“Thanks. It’s amazing what a little makeup can do,” she said.
“My Maria looks so beautiful today,” Jesse said, with noticeable longing.
“She does,” Alex said. “Jesse? I wanted to . . . I don’t really know how to . . . Thanks.”
Jesse laughed. “We’re a team. You need to get going.”
Alex nodded.
“I’ll be around,” he said, disappearing.
Holding Camille’s hand, Ben came into the room. Camille carried a white basket full of pink rose petals. A small, white barrette held her dark ringlets out of her eyes. She wore a dress that matched Alex’s bridal gown. Another tap on the door, and Patrick joined them. Patrick kissed her cheek.
“Shall I put the veil down?” Patrick asked.
“I guess so,” Alex said.
He lifted two layers of the veil and covered her face.
“Oh, you have to unhook me.” Alex held her arm out to Patrick. “Just pull on the fitting.”
Patrick lifted her cream silk sleeve to reveal the tubes, which connected Alex to her IV antibiotics.
“You won’t tell, will you?” She pleaded with Patrick and Ben not to tell John that she should wear the IV. “I’ll put it back on when we’re done.”
“I won’t tell,” Patrick said. With a firm tug, he disconnected the fitting to the IV.
“You know I won’t,” Ben said.
“Camille? Will you tell anyone about the IV?” Alex asked in French. She crouched down to look into Camille’s eyes.
Camille looked at the fairy princess called Alex and batted her huge blue eyes. She nodded and wrinkled her nose.
“I have one right here,” Alex laughed. She held an orange Tootsie Roll pop in her hand. “Your Maman said you could have this when you get to the front of the church.”
“Oui. Ne dirai pas.” Camille wasn’t going to tell either.
“We’ll put this in your basket.” Alex slipped the candy into Camille’s white basket.
Holding her rosebud bouquet in her hand, Alex took Ben’s arm and Patrick’s arm. They walked into the pre-chamber of the church.
Ben gave Camille a little push, and she started down the aisle. She threw a handful of petals on one side then weaved forward to throw a handful of petals on the other side. She threw another handful of petals and picked up some petals in her hand. Noticing Helene at the front of the church, Camille ran forward, the petals falling unnoticed from her basket and her hand.
“Look what I have,” Camille said in French. She held the orange Tootsie Roll pop out to Helene. Turning to her mother, she pleaded, “Maman?”
Laughing in the front row, Claire said, “Oui.”
Helene lifted Camille into her arms. Throwing the wrapper on the floor, Camille stuck the candy in her mouth.
“Please rise,” Father Seamus said.
Everyone stood and turned toward the church pre-chamber. A gasp went through the crowd. Alex was absolutely stunning.
Moving slowly down the aisle, she nodded, winked, and smiled to the friends and loved ones in the pews. She shyly lowered her head when they approached John.
Stopping at the front, Alex turned to Ben, who raised one layer of her veil and kissed her cheek. Turning to Patrick, she smiled as he raised the last layer. He touched her chin and kissed her other cheek. He slipped into the pew after Ben.
Alex turned to John. The blue of his eyes was all but consumed by his black pupils, and his mouth was slightly open. Blushing at his reaction, her lips turned upward.
Before her lips could form the crooked smile, Father Seamus began the service.
FFF
October 23—1 A.M.
Northern Scotland
“What is it, love?” asked John, as he came up behind her.
Alex was standing in her pajamas at the front window of the cottage. Somehow escaping John’s notice, Rita and Tom had converted a sheepherder’s cottage to a honeymoon escape for them. Turning, she reached her arms around his warm, naked body.
“I like to see out,” she said, “especially at night.”
John put his hands around her face and kissed her.
“When we get home, I’ll build you a porch off our bedroom, where you can watch the stars.”
“We’d need to get a home first.”
“Max didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“He found an old boarding house about a block from our old house—very large and dilapidated. The building is in foreclosure and has been vacant for most of the last year. We’ve been negotiating with the bank this week. They are thrilled to be rid of the building. So they gave us a great deal but only if we close in two weeks. We should be able to move into at least one area of the building by New Year’s. We’ll live together.”
“Are you all right with the loss of space? You wanted your own space, your own house. It’s why we bought the other house.”
“My priorities have shifted quite a bit in the last few months,” he said. “When remodeled, we’ll have two separate living spaces with a common kitchen, living area, and dining area. The basement will be contiguous with its secret office, entertainment room, and guest rooms. Don’t tell Raz, but we’re planning to convert the carriage house into a loft apartment for him. It’s a bit of a surprise.”
“How do you know all of this, and I don’t?”
“Max didn’t want to bother you. You’ve been in the hospital. Christ, Alex, you’re still on IV antibiotics. You should still be in the hospital.”
“Kiss me again.”
Melting at his touch, she buried her head in his arms.
“I’m sorry about losing the ring,” she started.
John laughed, rocking her in his arms.
“I don’t care about that anymore,” he said. “Would you like another one?”
She kissed his neck.
“Honestly?”
He nodded, looking into her dark eyes.
“I love this band.” Alex pointed to the thin gold band she had worn every day for almost thirteen years.
He smiled and hugged her again.
“Why don’t I stay up with you?” John asked. “I can tell you everything you would like to know about mending fences and cleaning sheep stalls. If you’re nice, I’ll flex my muscles for you again.”
“Mr. Kelly Drayson, your biceps are huge,” she said in a mock Betty Boop. She kissed each arm.
“Two lonely weeks working on the ranch,” he said. “Wait here. Just one second.”
John went to the bedroom and pulled on a pair of pajamas. Bringing a wing-back chair and a blanket from the sitting area, he opened the blinds and sat down in the chair.
“Please sit with me,” he said.
Alex sat on his lap, and he threw the blanket over them. He kissed her neck and held her close to him. They sat, watching the night.
“Are you sleeping?”
“Not at night,” she said. “My mind has so many other things to work out in the dark.” Leaning against him, she sighed. “God, I’ve missed you.”
John smiled.
“I dreamt of you every night.” Overcome with emotion, he stopped speaking. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
“I thought I’d never see you or anyone again,” she said. “When I knew he was going to kill me? The first thing I longed for was you—kissing you.”
“That’s very nice,” he said. He kissed her lips. “I don’t know how long we’ll have. I’m just grateful to have one more moment with you.”
She nuzzled his neck under his chin.
“I’m different, you know. Everything is different. And yet . . .” she said. “I mean, it’s weird. We went through so much, such difficult times and . . .”
“Yet we learned so much,” John said. “Yes. You know, being a doctor, having lots of money, is really not so important.”
“Being a Green Beret or a super spy is not so important,” she added.
“What’s important is family, friends . . .”
“And love. Yes.”
“All of these secrets. Your fathers. My history. They were stupid. I’m so sorry I hurt you, didn’t trust you. I was foolishly trying to control you, control your opinion of me. I never realized I was actually keeping myself from loving you fully.”
“Loving fully. I thought a lot about that when I was in the room,” she said. “I’ve hidden myself away from you so that you would never know me, all of me. I never realized you knew me all along.”
He kissed her head and held her tight. They watched the night together in silence.
Alex sighed.
“What is it, love?”
“I’m so very glad I survived . . . to sit right here . . . with you.”
F
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