Twisted and Tied

by Mary Calmes

  “This is Min,” she reminded me as Ian pounded down the stairs. “Of course she bought plane tickets.”

  “Ian!” Sajani announced loudly, almost shrill.

  “How come she can say Ian?” I questioned Aruna.

  “I’m sure I have no idea,” she answered, clearly bored with the topic.

  “Here’s what I think—”

  “Hey. You take care of my girl,” Liam said seriously, patting my bare shoulder before hooking the nylon leash, made out of the same stuff people used when they went mountain climbing, to Chickie’s collar. “I’ve got your dog.”

  Ian leaned in, hugged Liam, kissed Sajani, and then bolted for the kitchen to grab keys and probably see if he could get one cup of coffee in before we had to go.

  Aruna turned, kissed her husband, then her daughter, and shooed them away before following Ian.

  “Don’t screw up,” the mass of muscle that was Liam warned me.

  “I won’t. Get out.”

  He pointed at his wife—in my kitchen with Ian as they decided if tea would be better; we had Assam, and that was good in the morning—“I want her back just like that.”

  “I promise.”

  He left then, holding his daughter and leading my dog.

  “I hate it when I’m not around when he goes for walks with those two,” Aruna yelled from the kitchen.

  “Why?”

  She gestured at the door he left through. “Are you kidding? Beautiful man with a cute kid and a gorgeous dog—he’s a chick magnet.”

  I rolled my eyes and headed back for the stairs.

  “Ovaries exploding all over the place!”

  Dressing quickly, I was back downstairs in minutes as Ian and Aruna both gulped down some apple juice—no time for tea—and the three of us headed for the front door.

  “You both strapped?” Aruna asked.

  “Ohmygod!” I yelled.

  “What?”

  “Yes,” Ian answered as he grabbed his wool topcoat and headed outside.

  I shoved her out after him.

  “Watch it,” she groused.

  “Are we strapped…? Who talks like that?”

  She was cackling as the Lyft driver pulled up alongside our truck on the street.

  “Seriously,” I said as I got into the back beside Aruna. “Min is fuckin’ scary.”

  “She’s thorough,” Ian corrected. “I like it.”

  Aruna gagged.

  “He’s her favorite, you know.”

  “That’s because he’s a bootlicker,” Aruna taunted.

  He reached between the seats and swatted her leg.

  “Owww, you ass!”

  “Not a bootlicker. Ask Miro.”

  I leered. “He licks other things.”

  “I’m gonna throw up.”

  The driver couldn’t keep from chuckling.

  WE GOT serious once we were at the airport. After we checked in, the TSA had to determine that our clearances were good. Even law enforcement didn’t get to just carry a gun on a plane. But as federal officers, we were required to carry at all times, so even on vacation, even going on a fishing trip or something inconsequential, we had to be armed.

  Badges, credentials, tickets, routine check with our office and Homeland to make sure we were who we said we were, and once we were approved and wanded and patted down—watches, gun holsters, belts, shoes, and our guns looked at again—we joined Aruna, who was waiting for us.

  “It’s amazing that I made it through before you guys,” she grumbled. “Now I need coffee before we get on that plane.”

  Once we were in the boarding area, Aruna’s face crumpled.

  “It’s gonna be all right,” I promised, wrapping an arm around her and tucking her up against my chest even as I watched Ian talk on the phone. He was pacing as he explained where we were going and what we were doing. I wasn’t sure if he’d called Kage or Becker, but whoever it was, he was doing a lot of nodding.

  She took a halting breath. “Of course it will.”

  Several women and a few men turned as they passed Ian, taking another look at the gorgeous man they walked by.

  “Yeah, if I wasn’t married, I’d take another look at him too.”

  “I can’t stop looking at him,” I told her.

  “I like the sweater and sport coat and scarf you’ve got him in. All those layers of earth tones are very handsome,” she said, turning to look at me. “Well done.”

  “It helps when you’re built like that,” I agreed, gesturing at him. “I mean, what can’t he wear?”

  “Are you guys talking about me?” Ian asked as he sat down beside me and put a hand on my thigh.

  “Yes, of course we are.”

  “The clothes?” he surmised because he knew us.

  “Mmmmm,” Aruna murmured, smiling at him.

  He bumped me with his shoulder. “You know how he is. I just have to put it on.”

  She nodded. “Well, you look fantastic. What is that pattern, windowpane?”

  “Very good,” I praised. “You’ll notice that the stripes go with the sweater.”

  “I do,” she said brightly, looking better now, more her, more upbeat.

  “Windowpane?” Ian said like the word burned his mouth coming out. “Who cares?”

  “Well, clearly your husband wants to make sure that you don’t look like a shmuck, even before coffee on a Saturday morning,” Aruna defended me.

  He left to go to the bathroom, and we watched him walk away.

  “Yep, very handsome man,” she sighed before turning back to me. “And it’s cliché, but really, what’s on the inside is better.”

  “I know.”

  “May I just say that this blazer, jeans, and cashmere sweater combo you’ve got going on is very handsome as well?”

  “And the gray lace-ups?” I teased, lifting my feet.

  “A very nice touch,” she said, giggling. “But Ian’s Chelsea boots are better.”

  “They’re mine.”

  She laughed, but then she took a shaky breath, remembering, I was sure, that we were in the airport for a reason and not a vacation. I stood quickly and yanked her into my arms, hugging her tight as she pressed her face into my chest and sobbed.

  “It’ll be all right,” I promised hoarsely. “We’ll fix it.”

  “The fuck happened?” Ian grumbled as he walked up beside me. “I left you with a perfectly happy woman, and now look at her. What’d you do?”

  “I didn’t do anything. She’s a crybaby,” I told him, and she laughed and hiccupped before ordering me to find the Kleenex in her purse.

  As soon as I had it, Ian snatched it from me and then held a tissue over her nose so she could blow. It was adorable. We got on the plane fifteen minutes later.

  THE PLANE ride was an hour and fifty minutes, and as predicted, Catherine was there when we walked out of the terminal. She ran to Aruna and grabbed her, and as they hugged, I got ready to be next. But she lunged for Ian as soon as she was released, and what started out awkward changed to him holding her like she would break in seconds.

  “I knew Miro would come,” she said, sobbing into his sweater. “But I wasn’t sure you would. Thank you, Ian, I’ll never forget this.”

  She and Ian would be different going forward, closer, and I was so much more than pleased.

  In the line at the car rental, Ian explained his plan.

  “Miro, you and Catherine go get Janet out. Me and Aruna will get the baby.”

  “So we need two cars,” I told him.

  “We have two cars,” he assured me.

  “She really is just terrifying,” Aruna said with a whistle, referring to Min again.

  After stopping quickly at a copy shop on the way to the facility to print out the paperwork Min sent, we reached the very-high-end rehabilitation center just after ten in the morning.

  “I wonder why us,” I said absently to Catherine.

  “What?” she asked, getting out of the Cadillac Escalade we’d paid for
the upgrade on, since Catherine refused to ride in the Dodge Dart the guy at the Enterprise counter tried to give us. She looked stunning, I noticed, hair swept up, diamond studs in, Dolce&Gabbana black power suit and sunglasses on, black clutch tucked under her arm.

  “You look kinda scary.”

  “You look like you’re ready for a day of antiquing.”

  I scowled.

  “But to your question,” she said as we began toward the front door, her black Louboutin heels sliding over the gravel as she walked. “I’m a doctor, so me at the mental health facility makes sense, and Janet will want to see you first. I just hope when Ian kicks down the door of Janet and Ned’s place that he doesn’t scare the crap out of everyone. He can be a bit—intense.”

  “He can be, yes.”

  “But perhaps, in this instance, that’s what’s needed.”

  At the front desk—it was more like a five-star hotel inside than what I was expecting—a woman smiled at us.

  “Hello,” Catherine greeted. “We need to speak to the doctor in charge, as well as to one of your patients who we have an order of release for.”

  “I’m sorry, but—”

  “Ma’am,” I said, stepping forward, holding up my credentials, “deputy US marshal. I’m afraid I’m going to need to insist.”

  And with that little, she went from combative to helpful. This was the nation’s capital, after all; they knew how to obey people with badges.

  Catherine went to the office with the doctor on duty, Dr. Abbott, who seemed more than a little blown away by one of the top neurosurgeons in the country striding through the corridors of his facility. Did it make sense? No. But Catherine was using her big words, her smile, the feeling of money that oozed off her, and the hard click of her heels on the floor as she walked to intimidate the man but good.

  I followed a nurse and two orderlies. “It must be hard, coming here every day.”

  “The hard part is when you meet people who have no support systems,” the nurse told me. “People who’ve had their families turn their backs on them for whatever reason—that’s what breaks my heart.”

  I cleared my throat. “I have a new job with the marshals service working with kids.”

  She reached out and patted my arm. “Oh, then you understand how I feel. When there’s no one for your kids, you’re going to have a heck of a time, but just remember, never stop trying and never stop caring, that’s my motto.”

  “It’s a good motto.”

  Her smile was bright. “You don’t get into this line of work, or yours, I suspect, unless you’re a fighter—am I right?”

  “You are.”

  At Janet’s door, the bigger orderly gestured for me to go ahead and open the door.

  “It’s not locked?”

  “No, of course not,” he said. “That’s not the kind of facility we’re running here. She can leave her room, just not the building.”

  I opened the door and found Janet sitting up on a made bed she clearly had not slept in, legs crossed, breathing deeply in and out.

  She was dressed as she’d probably been at home, in yoga pants, socks, a Lululemon short-sleeved shirt, and a large sweater coat with pockets. Her bright red hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, and when she saw me, her face went from slack and ashen to infused with light.

  “Oh,” the nurse almost cried as Janet leaped off the bed and rushed across the room to me, leaping at the last second so I had to catch her in my arms. “I’m glad you’re taking her. She didn’t strike me like some of the other postpartum moms we got in here.”

  While hugging Janet tight, I heard her start to cry, face resting against my shoulder, trembling hard, breathing rapidly. “If she seemed all right, why did you let her husband check her in?”

  “Because he said she was a danger to herself and their baby, and we can do a seventy-two-hour hold without question if the husband signs off on it.”

  “Which he did.”

  “Yes,” the nurse answered, looking like she might cry as she watched Janet shuddering in my arms. “Poor dear.”

  “Well, I appreciate your help, and—”

  “I need to see my baby,” Janet whispered, lifting her head to look into my eyes. “Miro, where is he, do you know if he’s safe and—”

  “He’s okay,” I promised, putting her on her feet, hands on her face, wiping away her tears. “Ian and Aruna are getting him, all right?”

  She was having trouble talking and catching her breath. “Ian and Aruna?”

  “Yes, honey, we’re all here.”

  Leaning into me again, arms back around my neck, she clung as I rubbed circles on her back and told her that everything was going to be all right.

  “I knew you’d get here, I knew you’d come,” she chanted. “I knew it, I knew it.”

  “Min mobilized us.”

  “I knew that too,” she said, her voice breaking as the tears started again.

  “Come on, let’s get outta here.”

  Once we were out in the hall, Janet clung to my arm with a death grip as we walked toward the front exit.

  “It was so surreal.”

  “Ned, you mean?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What do you think happened?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he got scared that his life was going to change—and it is, I mean, of course it is, because, you know, baby.”

  “Sure.”

  “I thought about it all last night, and the only thing I came up with is that he had an idea in his mind of how I was supposed to be, and what he thought and the reality didn’t mesh.”

  She was so logical; of course she’d thought about it and come up with an explanation for his behavior. “And his mother didn’t help.”

  “Oh hell no,” she said flatly, “and I tell you what, if I see her—oh,” her voice dropped suddenly as she saw Catherine. “I knew she’d be here too, just like you. All of you guys, my friends, I swear to God, you’re the blessing of my life.”

  I patted her hand as we closed in on Catherine.

  “When I lost my mother, she said, ‘Baby, you’re gonna be all right. You have the girls, your sisters, and you have Miro. All of them will stand in for me until I see you again.’”

  “Don’t make me cry,” I grumbled. “I haven’t had enough coffee.”

  When we reached Catherine, they enfolded each other, hugging so tight, neither of them breathing. After a moment Catherine let Janet go, and she returned to my side, plastered there as Catherine rounded on the doctor.

  “Thank you for taking such good care of her,” she said graciously to Dr. Abbott, who nodded and smiled before shaking her hand.

  And just like that, the three of us strolled outside and into the sun.

  WE DROVE to Janet’s house in Georgetown, and as she showered and changed, Catherine found luggage and packed her up, and I packed for Cody.

  Janet did not want to stay. The perfect crib, the perfect room she’d painted herself, all the details she lovingly put in place, she could barely stomach to look at. The bouncer, some kind of contraption that jiggled the baby, was necessary, as were a few other things that folded down easily as I packed them into more suitcases.

  “Aruna has baby stuff at home,” I told her as she dried her hair.

  “Yes,” she agreed, nodding, looking nervous.

  I took her hands in mine. “This is Ian and Aruna, honey. Do you think they’re not coming back here without Cody?”

  Tears filled her eyes, and I drew her in close and hugged her.

  Catherine put Janet’s many, many face and eye and lip products into bags.

  “Don’t ever tell me again that I have a lot of crap,” I warned, and for the first time since we sprang her, she smiled.

  “Why did I think that Ned’s mother lived in Maryland?” Catherine asked after she pronounced the bathroom done.

  “She did live there,” Janet explained as the three of us went downstairs, me toting the four massive suitcases stuffed to the gills.
“But she moved to be close to us right after Cody was born, to help, she said.”

  “Yeah, but doesn’t she have, like, a million grandchildren already?”

  “But Ned’s her baby,” Janet sighed, looking wrung-out and…. “Ohmygod, this hurts so bad.”

  “What?” I asked anxiously.

  “Where’s your breast pump?” Catherine inquired, knowing exactly what the issue was without having to be told.

  “How’d you know?” I asked her.

  “Because she was holding her breast, Miroslav.”

  “I love it when you use my whole name.”

  “Oh, I know,” she scoffed, getting the pump for Janet while I turned on the TV as they messed with the electric contraption that would also make the trip.

  “Miro, honey,” Janet said, chuckling, which was nice to hear, “instead of trying to drown out the pump, why don’t you go put the suitcases in the car.”

  I did as I was told.

  Once they were done, I packed the breast pump in the trunk as well, and then I asked Janet if there were things of her mother’s she wanted to take from the house.

  “You’re gonna laugh,” she said softly.

  Both Catherine and I turned to look at her.

  “All the stuff my mom left me is still in storage in Chicago.”

  “In that place we all shared?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  “No shit?” Catherine exhaled sharply, smiling brightly. “How fortuitous.”

  I snorted as we all heard a car pull up beside the row house. After walking out the front door, the three of us stood on the stoop and looked at the car. I saw Aruna first, smiling like a crazy woman, waving from the front seat, and then Ian emerged from the driver’s side before opening the back door and getting out a car seat. He came around the trunk of the car and up onto the stoop as Aruna stepped out on the sidewalk.

  Janet burst into tears as Ian passed Cody to her. He was very pink, with wisps of red hair, and he had Janet’s cute little button nose. There was a moment of yawning, then squirming before he settled again and made bubbles on his lips.

  “Oh, he’s beautiful,” Catherine gushed.

  “He’s pink,” I said.

  “He’s perfect,” Aruna sighed as she joined us.