by Freya Barker
Eager like a puppy with a bone, Neil comes back with some kind of scanner in his hand. Running it over the surface of the envelope the excitement on his face slowly falls.
"What? What is it?" I ask him.
"It's a fucking envelope. Not a single electronic component; no wire, nothing metal, nothing. I was so looking forward to practice my rusty demolition skills."
Caleb and I look at each other with eyebrows raised. Bomb demolition? So much we still don't know about the kid.
"Let Katie be the only one to handle the envelope, Neil, in case we need to print. Less to eliminate?" Gus suggests when Neil is about to grab the envelope from under the wiper.
"All yours, babe." Caleb urges me on in a low voice and I reach up to pull the envelope toward me.
Opening the flap I shake out the contents on the hood of the Tahoe. A few loose documents and "What the fuck?"
"Is that...?"
"Ziploc baggie, Neil."
"Don't tell me that's the knife?" Emma exclaims, "Eeewww. That’s so fucking gross."
On top of the papers is a little wooden knife, completely stained a dark rusty brown. I'm sure the blood of one Gorge Guzman. Neil has a baggie inside out and picks up the knife and seals the bag, holding up for a good look.
"Geeze Neil, put that thing away. What does the note say, Katie?" Emma wants to know.
Right. A note. Aside from some official looking papers in what appears to be Spanish, there is a handwritten note on lined paper.
"It says: Dear Ms. Acker, I am returning to you something you may have lost. I was able to salvage it from a pile of garbage brought to me a few weeks ago. You'll be happy to know it is the only salvageable item remaining. The rest of the garbage was appropriately disposed of."
A chill runs down my back when I think what could be done to a human body in the timespan of three weeks, but then something in the next paragraph catches my eye.
"It goes on to say: My father regrettably passed away two weeks ago. He left detailed instructions on how he wanted his affairs handled. Your name was on an envelope left with his will. I trust you will forgive me; due to the nature of our business I had no choice but to open and screen the contents of the envelope and found myself as shocked as I am sure you will be. Signed; Su hermano?"
The note flutters from my hand and the last I remember is Caleb's voice; "Jesus, Katie!"
And then nothing.
"Baby, wake up. Come on, little one."
Forcing my eyes open, I find myself on the couch back home at the barn. Blue whimpering by my side. As I look around at the concerned faces of Caleb and Malachi, the last conscious memory comes back with a gasp.
"Easy, Yázhí. Mal made some hot tea, drink some first and we'll talk."
Caleb helps me sit up, sliding behind me, and with shaking hands I accept the mug Mal gives me. He sits down on the floor next to Blue and strokes his head, while keeping one hand on my foot, which feels icy cold.
"You have to stay calm or I promised Naomi I would bring you in."
"You talked to Naomi?"
My voice sounds shrill to my own ears.
"Just to tell her you had a shock and fainted, nothing more. She gave me a choice to bring you in or take you to familiar surroundings but that if you didn't come to quickly or if you weren't able to stay calm, to bring you in. For peanut's safety."
The last words sink in and my hand slides down to rest on my abdomen. My god.
"We left straight from the parking lot and only Malachi saw you fall. He drove us home. We were gone before anyone noticed. Gus, Neil, Emma, Mal and the two of us, Katie. No one else. Do you understand? No one. We are your family. Always will be. Now, Gus took the papers and with Neil is working on verifying at them. They were a birth certificate and a death certificate. He and Emma will be over shortly, if that is ok with you."
All I can do is nod, too numb to do much more. The men in my life trying to infuse my chilled body with heat.
I don't know how long we sit there, almost drowning in the silence, when the perking of Blue's ears and then the crunch of the driveway gravel alerts the arrival of Gus and Emma.
"Hey darlin'," from Gus, who bends down and kisses my head, while Emma scoots on the couch beside me and grabs my hands in hers.
"Gus, honey, can you see if there is a blanket you can grab from the bedroom?"
In no time, I'm tucked under a quilt wedged between Emma and Caleb, and while Gus is building a fire, Mal is fetching drinks for everyone. If I didn't know any better I'd think we were settling in for a cozy evening with friends.
Having had some time with my turbulent thoughts, I am slowly coming out of my shock and find I want to know more.
"What did you find out?" I direct my question at Gus, surprising everyone in the room.
"You sure?" he wants to know and I nod firmly. "Okay. The birth certificate is for one Ekatarina Creemore-Duarte, mother Diana Creemore, father Juan Duarte. It's the real thing. The death certificate is Diana Creemore, dated 3 days after the birth certificate."
A sharp pain slices through my chest and I can't help the involuntary gasp that escapes me. My mother – my birthmother – is dead. Been dead my entire life.
"I hope you don't mind, I didn't think you'd want to so I called Ernesto. Told him it was a big shock, that you had no idea. He spent the last few weeks doing a little research and found out from his aunt, Juan's sister, that Diana had been a vacationing American tourist Juan had fallen in love with. At the time he was married to Ernesto's mother who was pregnant with the youngest of the Duarte brothers. He tried to keep Diana a secret, as his mistress but when she ended up pregnant with you, he started spending more and more time with her and his wife found out. Shortly after Diana gave birth to you she died from complications and although he tried to take you home, his wife convinced him you would be better of in the US with a good adoptive family. According to the sister, that was a decision he regretted his entire life and had tried to track you down. When he started losing some of his cognitive functioning and his sons took over the daily workings of the cartel, Juan spent his lucid time putting out feelers and was surprised when he was contacted by an adoption lawyer who had been contacted by a woman who fit the general age and description, looking for information on her birth parents. The name he was given was yours, Katie. He didn't end up in Larchwood by accident, Ernesto says he requested to go there, even asked that specific room, claiming to need the exact southern exposure it had. Ernesto says he rarely ever questioned his father's whims and I guess it fit his own plans just fine."
"Oh my God," I'm so overwhelmed with a barrage of feelings. Most of them pretty freaky but some of it feels good. "Juan looked me up, to get to know me? Why didn't he ever tell me?"
"Babe," Caleb rumbles behind me, "from what I recall, he was quite confused a lot of the time. And besides, if I put myself in his shoes for a minute, I would perhaps want a chance to get to know my daughter, but I wouldn't necessarily want my daughter to get to know me, given my history."
Right. There's that.
"The odds of this are... out of this world," Emma points out and I start laughing.
"What's funny?" she turns to me and I smile.
"I used to believe all odds were against me, but I'm starting to think I'm luckier than I ever could have imagined."
"How in hell do you figure that?"
"Think about it? What do think the 'odds' would be of the cartel coming after any of you, my loved ones, my family, ever again? Their sister? Their own blood? In a disturbing and sick kind of way, I think I've never been safer before in my life."
The stunned looks on the faces around me quickly break out in laughter when Malachi deadpans, "Like I said, you are one weird bird."
I'm laying on my side in bed, my head propped up on my hand, looking at Katie beside me, who has taken on much the same position.
"You are the most refreshing, remarkable and resilient woman I have ever met," I tell her, my finger tracing the middle
of her forehead, down to the tip of her nose to her full lips and finally her chin, which I tip up so I can reach her mouth with mine.
"I need you to sit up." I tell her, sliding my hand under the pillow to retrieve what I placed there earlier.
Katie pushes up and sits as naked as the day she was born, not an ounce of shame, beautiful and smiling before me. I grab the blanket Mal found for me and place it around her shoulders, while she looks on mildly amused.
"I was originally going to wait until the upstairs was done, but today seems a very good day."
Tucking the ends of the blanket around her I pull her in for another kiss before I go on; "Traditionally a Navajo wedding is a simple one, without a lot of fanfare. Often arranged between the groom and the bride's parents, but even these days, you find couples that prefer the traditional ways. From what I can recall, the couple feeds each other a corn paste, which I don’t have. I could've fed you creamed corn from a can, but that seems almost sacrilegious. But what stands out most in my memory is the way the groom wraps his wife to be in a blanket. That simple gesture of comfort and protection is his vow to her. Once that wordless promise is made, they’re man and wife..." I pause for a moment before adding "Mrs. Whitetail." And laugh when her eyes shoot open and my feisty Katie comes out.
"Oh no you don't! You don't get to marry me and not let me in on it!" She pushes me back on the bed and straddles me with the blanket still wrapped around her shoulders, looking like the fierce warrior woman she is.
"Truth is, I have belonged to you for years, Yázhí. Been yours in heart, body and spirit even before you were aware. From the moment you gave yours to me, I've considered you my wife― my other half. A legal paper is likely needed to have you share my last name, but the only truth my heart needs is your blessing."
"I am honoured to call you my husband, and my life has already been blessed beyond my imagination with what you've brought me," she smiles at me, "I don't need anything more than this."
I carefully take her left hand and slide the turquoise band I've been hiding in my palm around her fourth finger.
EPILOGUE
"You coming?"
Caleb's been calling from upstairs for the past few minutes, but I just wanted to finish planting my seedlings in my new mini-greenhouse. Quickly washing my hands at the sink, I grab my crutches and make my way to the stairs.
"Coming!"
"Take the elevator!"
The elevator was just installed last week and Caleb had been using it all week to make sure it was working properly. I had not yet been upstairs, per his insistence, so no matter how eager I was to see, I wasn't above making him wait for me a little for a change.
"I'll just take the stairs," I answer.
"Elevator!" Comes the response.
Too excited to argue, I push the button and find the car already there. The ride up is smooth and uneventful, but when I push the door open the sight stops me in my tracks. Gorgeous gleaming wood floors span the walkway that runs from the bedrooms and bathroom at the front of the house to the master suite in the back and a trail is laid out in tea light candles leading to the master bedroom. I follow it into a massive space spanning the full width of the barn directly over the kitchen and dining areas. The broad board wood flooring continues, but is broken up with an occasional throw rug. A massive bed is centred in the space, facing a huge window with a view of the mountains. That will make for some fantastic mornings in bed. Caleb is chuckling as I'm taking it all in; the sheer size, the beautiful ceiling beams, the wood detailing on the framework and the phenomenal bed.
"You do this?" I want to know.
"With Mal. We learned young, before my father lost control he loved working with wood and we enjoyed spending time in his shop with him. Guess you never quite lose that."
"It's stunning." I run my fingers along the smooth surface of the solid headboard. It has a slight incline, which will make it so comfortable leaning back against to enjoy the view.
"It's huge."
That makes Caleb laugh. "I'm not exactly small and I like room to move around," he says, an eyebrow raised. Right. "Also, when this little peanut gets here," he says walking up behind me and sliding his hands around my stomach, "and whatever other children we might end up having, we will all fit."
I turn around and tilt my head, looking into his eyes. "You want our children to sleep in our bed?"
"Fuck no. That would seriously cramp my style, but after my morning sex with their beautiful mother..." He is nuzzling my neck when I notice the glass block wall on the right.
"Is that the bathroom?"
Without waiting for an answer I carefully move my crutches around the candles dotting the floor, and walk into the bathroom where the sound of running water draws my eye immediately to the most amazing shower. A waterfall, about two feet in width is raining down from the back wall of the natural stone shower, with several other showerheads at a variety of heights and angles adding to the rush of water. A wide ledge juts out from the tiled walls and runs underneath the waterfall and along the length of the stall, which is substantial; almost large enough for an average family. On the other side is the tall-edged claw foot tub I saw them carry in last week. A wide trough-like sink in the same stone of the shower sits along the wall beside the tub with two separate taps and mirrors. A door on the opposite side is cracked open to reveal the toilet.
"Holy crud, Caleb. This is decadent!"
I'm practically salivating over the rustic luxury in this room.
"Remember the shower at the guesthouse? The one you enjoyed so much?" Caleb is right behind me once more and I can feel his warm breath tickling the hair by my ear when I nod.
"I designed this shower with that experience in mind."
This time when I turn around and see his eyes, they're a burning dark hazel and my body instantly reacts.
"Show me," I challenge him.
In no time at all he has made fast work of our clothes and I find myself standing naked under the delicious spray of water, where Caleb proceeds to show me every last benefit of his innovative design.
"Blue! Where are ya boy? Blue?"
"He take off again?"
Katie's on the back deck yelling for that damn mutt, who seems to take off every couple of weeks for a day or two. Drives her crazy. Sometimes he shows up at the diner and Malachi brings him back and sometimes he just shows up here, a bit dirty but otherwise none the worse for wear.
I look at my wife, something we made legal on a quick getaway weekend in Vegas without telling anyone months ago, and am struck by how much she has changed since I first met her. Her face once almost gaunt and reserved is now fuller and open, her body before was perfectly toned and strengthened and now was richly curved and blossoming with her eight-month pregnancy. She doesn't look much like the hard-nosed, ball-busting security specialist anymore; more like a warm-hearted earth mother. But that woman is still a force to be reckoned with and if I had to pick a partner to have my back in any situation, she'd be at the top of my list.
We've got the whole gang coming over for a Fall cookout. The weather's been surprisingly mild so late in the year and after a hot summer spent mostly indoors in cold, but canned air, it'll be nice to hang out outside. Even if we have to do it with sweaters on.
We picked Monday so Seb, Arlene, Beth and Julie could be here too. Seb said he'd be bringing sides and Emma will take care of desserts, not that we had to ask, it's a given.
Mal's been here since early this morning, stoking the fire out by what was the vegetable garden where we've got a pig roasting. Mal's idea, so I told him since it was his, he was welcome to execute it too. The moment Neil heard about an open fire, he volunteered to help. Kids.
I'm surprised, now that I think about it, that with the mouth-watering smell of that roasting pig, the dog hasn't turned up yet. But before I can even mention anything to Katie, she's already waddling to the door to let the first visitors in. Her walking was fine until she hit the seventh month of her pregn
ancy. Suddenly her gait changed and Mal tortures her mercilessly. My little one just shrugs it off, though. She is still so grateful to be walking at all. Waddling or otherwise. She's not going waste time worrying about mundane things like that, not anymore. We've all learned some lessons and the most important one is; Life won't wait.
That damn dog. It's such a great day with everyone here. We finally get to enjoy the space and location of the barn and the grounds and of course Blue picks today to disappear. Better be careful not to stand too much today, I can already feel it in my back. Damn. I'll be glad when this kid is out. Pregnancy is fun and all when you have a cute little belly, but once you turn into a whale the fun is done.
We have a nursery set up upstairs, but I guess Caleb thought it might be a little too far from the master bedroom at first, so he put a bassinet in our bedroom with a room divider. Damn room is big enough, we could probably sleep a football team in there. I have a feeling Caleb might be a pretty protective father, regardless of whether our baby is a boy or a girl. We've chosen not to find out the sex and just wait till nature sees fit to tell us. Naomi was funny. She said that she wouldn't want to do the ultrasounds anymore then, just in case she spotted the genitals. She wants to be as surprised as we are.
Naomi has become a great friend, one I can really show the back of my tongue to. Emma will always have a special spot in my heart, but feels more like a peer. Even if she's had her hand up my twat more times than I want to remember. That is freaking weird, but I guess it happens when your doctor becomes your friend and also the person who will be delivering your baby.
I'm happy to see she brought her son out for this, even though he doesn't seem too thrilled to be here. Mal seems to be taking him under his wing though. Good. Mal probably knows all about troubled youth and the problems they can get into. I don't envy Naomi and the path she's had to walk on her own. Still does. Stupid Joe. Where is he anyway? He was supposed to show up as well.
Damn my back aches.
"Hey, little one. You okay?"
"Just a sore back, gonna be on the couch putting my feet up for a bit. You gonna be ok to handle this crowd?"
