A Hero's Homecoming

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A Hero's Homecoming Page 17

by Havel, Carlene;


  Charlotte hesitated, but only for a moment. She had to be honest—this man was going to be her husband. “You’ve been my special prayer request for some time. I asked God for you.”

  “Imagine that,” he said. “And I asked Him to make you mine.” Rich pulled out his handkerchief and wiped Charlotte’s tears. “There’s no need to cry, mon ami.”

  “These are happy tears.” She sniffed. “And don’t tell me you speak French, too.”

  “Not yet, but I plan to by the time we get to Paris. Amazing!” Rich studied his hanky. “No mascara.”

  “Makeup isn’t worth fooling with,” Charlotte confessed. “It makes my eyes itch.”

  Lottie, Chris and Belinda came quietly into the living room. “I hear Mom said yes.” Chris shook Rich’s hand and pecked his mother’s cheek. “Let me warn you, Rich,” he added mischievously, “my mother is a t-shirt thief.”

  “Really, Christopher,” Charlotte said.

  Rich smiled at Charlotte. “You can wear my Redskins shirts anytime you like.”

  Pacita bustled in, carrying a serving tray. Her perky “Hors d’oeuvres, anyone?” brought down the house as she pulled back the cover to reveal the Mexican sailboats. By now each boat sailed atop a sea of grease.

  One sailboat was missing. “Don’t tell me someone ate one of those things!” Charlotte was genuinely horrified.

  “Yes.” Pacita looked at the pleading Buster. “And I think he wants seconds.” Charlotte and Rich howled with laughter.

  Jerry and Martha appeared from nowhere. “I guess I’m out of the doghouse now that you two are engaged.” Jerry wheezed.

  Rich chuckled. “You’re forgiven. But you’d better stick to the law from now on and leave the matchmaking to the pros like my future mother-in-law.”

  Jerry eased himself onto a sofa. “Do you know what Junior is talking about, Lottie?”

  “I have no idea.” Lottie performed her best imitation of wide-eyed innocence.

  Charlotte smiled at Rich. “So...was I the very last person to find out you were going to ask me to marry you?”

  “Of course not, sweetheart,” he replied. “If we got in a canoe and paddled a hundred miles up the Amazon River then backpacked into the jungle, sooner or later we would come to some little village where they didn’t know.”

  “You’re a hopeless case,” Charlotte teased.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Rich grinned. “I really hoped you wouldn’t notice that until after we were married.”

  The love and laughter of friends and family filled the room.

  Rich knew his next homecoming would be a happy one.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “Have you decided what kind of wedding we should have?” Rich asked Charlotte as two waiters in black suits and bow ties simultaneously delivered their salads with a flourish.

  “You don’t want to leave that up to me.” Charlotte smiled. “If you did, it would be no one other than family. Bob Dawson to perform the ceremony, Mom and Chris as witnesses, your daughters if you wanted them there, and nobody else.” Had it been only last night when Rich put that magnificent engagement ring on her finger?

  “Sounds perfect.” He kissed her hand before releasing it to take up a salad fork.

  Charlotte gazed at him lovingly. “What about the big bashes you’re famous for?” She surveyed her salad.

  “We could save that for the reception,” Rich replied. “A whopping big party at our house after we say our vows privately.”

  Charlotte closed her eyes. “Our house,” she repeated. “Us. Together.” She nibbled at a bite of salad. “I can’t wait to be your wife, Rich.”

  He devoured her slowly with his eyes. “Believe me, darling, you’re not half as restless as I am for you to be Charlotte Martino.”

  “Do you really want a private ceremony?” Charlotte questioned. “You’re not just going along to make me happy?” A waiter fussed with a silver basket of French bread while another refilled their crystal goblets of iced tea.

  “It’s precisely what I want.” He smiled. “And you may as well get accustomed to having me do things merely to please you. Isn’t that the whole point of our being together? Happiness?”

  Charlotte found her salad completely uninteresting. “Our happiness, not just mine.”

  “Same thing.” Rich pushed lettuce around without taking a bite. “I will take great pleasure in making you happy.” He put his fork beside his plate. “Now, the reception is a different matter from the wedding itself. I’m thinking along the lines of the Scott and Amy gala—lots of people, good food, a wedding cake. We could even wait until we get back from our honeymoon…” He paused and looked at her meaningfully. “For the public party.”

  Charlotte felt herself begin to blush. “The timing might depend on Pacita’s schedule.”

  Rich immediately covered his mouth with his napkin. Then he took a drink of iced tea. “Pacita,” he repeated, eyes on his plate.

  A waiter inquired if they had finished their barely touched salads. Both indicated yes and the plates were whisked away. An additional waiter busily brushed nonexistent crumbs from the pristine tablecloth.

  “Of course, Pacita,” Charlotte continued. “I’m assuming we would want her to cater our reception.”

  A group of waiters made a great show of serving their chateaubriand for two. Side servings of haricots verts and pommes de terre were placed with artistic perfection.

  “If that’s what you want, darling, then I’m all for it.” A wry smile spread across Rich’s face. “Pacita’s a very enterprising woman. For the right price, you might get her to do almost anything. Even cater a wedding reception.”

  Charlotte ignored her food and looked questioningly at Rich. What was so amusing about Pacita catering their reception? “Has she gone out of business since last night?”

  “No.” He chewed his top lip. “No, she’s very much in business.”

  He was definitely up to something. “What then?” Charlotte demanded.

  Rich took out his wallet and sifted through a stack of business cards. He glanced sheepishly at Charlotte as he slowly handed her a blue card. “Rumor has it Pacita’s cooking is about on par with yours,” he said.

  “Pacita Ramon,” she read. “Private Detective!” What question should she ask first? If Pacita didn’t make all that food, who did? What does a detective have to do with catering parties? She leaned toward him and repeated the words she had heard him speak to Jerry McClain. “Time to fess up, buddy.”

  “Food is easy,” he began. “The Anselmos’ wedding cake and the petit fours came from the central market. I made everything else.”

  A waiter asked if they needed anything more. “No, we’re fine,” Rich said, although neither he nor Charlotte had touched their plates.

  Rich took Charlotte’s hand in his. “Your mother told me you would look for some solitude, away from the crowds, once in a while,” he continued. “Once I had that piece of information, the plan came together.”

  Their iced tea glasses were topped off again. “Is the chateaubriand cooked to your liking?” the waiter asked.

  “Everything is delicious,” Charlotte said, not taking her eyes off Rich. “The plan?”

  “The plan to spend as much time alone with you as I could.” He traced a pattern on the tablecloth with his free hand. “I didn’t need a caterer. What I needed was a couple of people to keep the living room clear, some roving spies to keep me informed about where you were every minute, and a cool head to direct the operation from a central command post.”

  Over Rich’s shoulder, Charlotte saw a red-faced man in traditional French chef garb emerge from the kitchen door. He spoke and gestured wildly with two waiters and disappeared. The waiters cruised by their table, straightened the centerpiece, and walked on.

  “Pacita was perfect for the job,” Rich continued. “She had experience in surveillance, didn’t look like a private eye, and we could converse openly in Tagalog or Ilocano without anyone being the wiser. Ex
cept the Garcias. You remember that couple from Manila? Mrs. Garcia busted Pacita right away, when she didn’t have a clue what was in the egg rolls.”

  “Unbelievable.” Charlotte worked to process Rich’s revelation. “Why didn’t you simply ask me for a date?”

  “Because, my love,” he countered, “you would have said no.” He stroked the fingers of her hand. “You would have known I was pursuing you. You’d have retreated into your castle, pulled up the drawbridge, and filled the moat with alligators. Am I wrong?”

  Charlotte wrinkled her nose. “You’re right.” She put her hand over his. “You are one amazing man, Colonel Martino. Remind me never to get between you and something you really want.”

  “I can be a worthy opponent.” He rubbed the engagement ring she wore. “Any second thoughts?”

  Charlotte shook her head and smiled. “No chance, Rich. If you want out of this engagement, you will have to break it off yourself. I’m committed.” She took a sip of tea. “I am curious to know what other confessions are going to come out of the woodwork.”

  “That’s about it,” he said thoughtfully. “You have examined all my skeletons and I hope you know I’m a changed man.”

  “I know I love you. I believe you love me and I believe you love God,” Charlotte said softly. “Charlotte Martino. I can’t wait.”

  “Would monsieur prefer a different entree?” the waiter asked in a wounded voice.

  Rich continued to gaze at Charlotte. “Oh, no, everything’s wonderful. Thank you.”

  “They think we don’t like the food because we’re not eating,” Charlotte observed to Rich after the waiter retreated.

  Rich glanced at his plate. “Charlotte, darling, think about this idea for a while and let me know...” He grinned sheepishly.

  “Yes?” she said, understanding exactly what his phrasing meant.

  “The Anselmos and I are leaving for the Philippines on the ninth of January, the same day you’re going back to work. Today’s the twenty-sixth of December. Let’s say, hypothetically, we went ahead and got the blood tests we need for a marriage license in Texas.” He paused and sipped tea. “Then we applied for the license, which I guess still includes a three-day waiting period. We could...” Rich withdrew his hands and put them on either side of his plate. “We could tie the knot before I leave. If you want to, that is.”

  Charlotte beamed. “That’s the best idea I’ve ever heard.”

  Rich took her hand again as they looked adoringly into each other’s eyes for a long moment. He glanced at his watch. “There’s a doc in the box on Broadway that stays open till eight-thirty,” he said. “If we leave now we can get our blood tests done tonight.”

  “Second best idea ever.” Charlotte smiled and folded her napkin. “Uh-oh. I think we’re in trouble with the chef.”

  The man in the tall white hat was standing outside the kitchen door, arms folded, glaring at Rich and Charlotte’s untouched food.

  “I’ll take care of this. Excuse me.” Rich retrieved his wallet from the table and walked to where the chef stood.

  After a brief exchange of words, the chef disappeared into the kitchen. Rich’s back was to Charlotte. The kitchen doors flung open again. The chef emerged and there was another animated conversation. Suddenly the chef grabbed Rich and kissed him on both cheeks.

  Rich returned to the table, carrying a red rose and shaking his head. “I’ll say one thing for that crazy Frenchman...” He grinned as the chef blew Charlotte a kiss. “He totally understands about being in love.” Rich handed her the rose and a business card for Chez Henri, Place de la Concorde, Paris. “I promised we would eat at his brother’s restaurant when we get to France.”

  Charlotte and Rich waited about forty-five minutes to have their blood drawn at the emergency clinic. Somehow Rich convinced the technician to expedite things so he could pick up the laboratory results the following day.

  “Do you mind if we drop by the house?” he asked as they returned to his car. “I can fix us something to eat in less time than it would take to drive through a fast food place,” he said. “And there’s another advantage to home. Privacy.”

  Rich pulled leftovers from his refrigerator. Within fifteen minutes, he served up a steaming platter of chicken fried rice. They debated the NFL playoffs as they ate.

  “Charlotte,” Rich asked as they put plates into the dishwasher, “would you do something very special for me?”

  “What is that?” she asked, hoping she wouldn’t have to say no.

  “Colonel Mustard, in the library, with a book.” He grinned.

  They settled into a comfortable sofa in the library. Rich took the large Bible from the coffee table. “May I read aloud?” he asked.

  “Yes, Rich. Of course.”

  He turned to a bookmarked page and read several paragraphs concerning marriage. He closed the Bible, turned to Charlotte, and stroked her hair. “I want you to be my wife more than I’ve ever wanted anything,” he said. “But you need to understand—as far as I’m concerned, this is for keeps. Once we’re married, I will not consider divorce to be an option. Till death do us part. No plan B.” He studied her face. “If you can’t accept that condition, we have to put on the brakes right now.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Charlotte put her hand on his arm. Every time she thought she loved this man to her absolute limit, he said or did something that made her care for him even more.

  “One more indulgence, darling?”

  “Yes,” she said. Her concern had melted away.

  “Let’s pray together,” he said.

  They prayed for God to bless their union and each thanked the Lord for the other. Rich asked God for the wisdom to make Charlotte happy. Charlotte asked her Lord to make her deserving of the wonderful man she had been given.

  They held hands for a long moment. Rich broke the silence. “Thank you, sweetheart. I’ll take you home now. No, this is home—to your other house. You need a good night’s rest. We have a lot to do in the next couple of days.”

  EPILOGUE

  With ongoing support from the Richard H. Martino trust fund, Raul and Rosa Luna continue their mission work in Mexico. The Anselmos successfully completed their tour of duty in the Philippines and now operate a free medical clinic near Sao Paolo, Brazil, where they live with their two children.

  Enticed by an entrepreneurial opportunity, Pacita Ramon sold her detective agency and moved to Montana. She and her husband are building a theme park.

  Rich invited Mark Phillips to breakfast one Saturday and told him how he had lost out on fifteen years of his girls’ lives before finding the strength to reconnect. Despite Rich’s encouragement, Mark Phillips has not yet chosen to have any contact with his son Christopher.

  Joanne Campbell has not spoken to Rich nor to Charlotte since the day of Dick Martino’s funeral. Through the twins, Charlotte learned that Joanne holds Rich responsible for the eventual breakup of the Campbell marriage.

  A chance to see the world appealed to Kathy Martino, who served a four year enlistment in the U.S. Navy. She now manages a restaurant in Newport News, Virginia.

  Karen accepted a basketball scholarship at an Ivy League College, where she graduated summa cum laude with a degree in French literature. Next summer, she expects to complete the requirements for her PhD. Rich and Charlotte hope to attend her graduation exercises in Paris.

  When Christopher Phillips completed his computer science degree, he was immediately hired by a high-tech firm in Austin, Texas, seventy miles north of San Antonio. Much to Charlotte’s consternation, he is still single. Chris keeps a wary eye on his mother, in the event she decides to follow in her mother’s footsteps and take on the role of matchmaker.

  Who could have guessed Belinda Wilkes would marry a Presbyterian minister? Nevertheless, she did. She named her daughter Charlotte Marie.

  After Charlotte closed her business, Rich recommended Anita Waltham for the new position of business manager for Martino & Lopez Enterp
rises. Anita is indispensable to Johnny Lopez.

  Just as Lottie planned, Martha and Jerry McClain were married soon after the Martino wedding. Jerry suffered a severe heart attack a year later. Although the doctors gave him virtually no chance of survival, Martha tenderly nursed him back to health. Though he no longer plays golf, Jerry claims to be domino champion emeritus of his retirement center. Sweet Martha is no longer among the living.

  After a term as president of the Loyal Doves of Texas, Lottie Browne turned to maintaining the authenticity of San Antonio’s historic Spanish missions.

  Rich Martino was ecstatic when Charlotte gave up her counseling practice to accompany him on his world travels. Whenever possible, they go on mission trips. Charlotte provides free counseling services for the Fellowship and a homeless shelter to keep current in her profession.

  The Martinos are more devoted to each other than ever.

  Thank you

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  this inspirational work of fiction.

  AMDG

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