Dwelling Place

by Kathleen Y'Barbo

  While the gesture was clearly meant to be funny, Sophie felt no humor. Rather, her mouth went dry and her mind blank. He stood close, this man she should despise, and then closer.

  “Um, Sophie,” he whispered, now so close she could smell the peppermint on his breath.

  “Um, what?” was the only response she could manage.

  “Tell me you liked mine best. I know you did.” He inched closer. “I was watching you when you went back for seconds.”

  She lifted slightly onto her tiptoes. “Watching me? Really?”

  “Good night, Sophie.” Without looking back, Ezra bounded down the stairs to the driveway to wedge himself sideways into the car’s nearly nonexistent rear seat. “Was that necessary?” Sophie heard him shout.

  Calvin responded with a resounding “Yes.”

  Any further conversation was swallowed up in the roar of the car engine as it headed down the street. She’d have to get the full report from Bree in the morning.

  When the muscle car disappeared around the corner, Sophie wandered back inside and locked the door. It had been a lovely night, one she’d never have planned for in a million years.

  She checked the back door, then headed down the hall to bed, stopping at the open door to the girls’ room. They had been so tired that she put them to bed in their party clothes. Now Amanda lay on her side, her stuffed pig cuddled in the crook of her arm, while Chloe lay on her stomach, her face half buried in her pillow.

  “Thank You, Lord,” she whispered, “for this dwelling place and the precious souls beneath its roof and for the dear one who now lives with You. Thank You for best friends who make me look like Cinderella for an evening and for little girls who accidentally invite the whole church to dinner.”

  Settling under the covers that night, she remembered one last reason to give thanks. “And, Lord, thank You for cease-fires. Is it too much to ask of You that this one lasts indefinitely?”

  Twenty-four

  October 10

  Ezra arrived at 421 Riverside Avenue at a quarter to two with the two items essential for the job: a good shovel and his heavy-duty gloves. It might be a Sunday afternoon during football season, but he had a mission that was much more important than watching a game on television. The garden in the backyard of 421A was in dire need.

  He’d planned to offer Sophie and the girls lunch after church, until he saw Sophie walking to her van with the owner of the Dip Cone. Rather than embarrass himself in front of the Arceneaux fellow, Ezra hit a drive-through, then headed for Calvin’s place to change clothes and pick up supplies.

  Now he sat in the car in front of the house, trying to figure out whether to ring the doorbell or just walk around to the back and start to work at it. Amanda took the decision away from him when she burst out of the front door calling his name.

  “Hey, squirt,” he called.

  “Did you come to see my mommy?”

  Ezra popped the trunk and climbed out of the car. “What makes you think that?”

  “Ezra?” Sophie stood on the porch, shielding her eyes from the afternoon sun. “Is that you?”

  “Yes, it’s me.” He retrieved the shovel and his gloves and slammed the trunk, then crossed the yard toward her.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Just thought I’d get some work done in the yard,” he said when he reached the porch. “Is that a problem?”

  She looked skeptical. “Guess not,” she said. “Dare I ask why?”

  “No, Sophie, you dare not.”

  Opening the gate, Ezra headed for the backyard and the pitiful excuse for a garden he’d spied at the party last night. A little elbow grease and a regular program of watering along with some amendments to the soil and that garden would bloom in the spring just as Granny Nell’s used to.

  Funny how he’d signed on willingly for garden duty today, and yet he’d detested the job as a kid. Well, you’re not a kid anymore, Marine.

  Ezra set to work with Chloe and Amanda alternating between watching and jumping on the trampoline. Before long, the girls had volunteered to stuff trash bags with the weeds Ezra pulled. The trio worked well together, and soon the garden began to look like an actual garden.

  “Lemonade anyone?” Sophie rounded the corner with a tray of lemonade and a big grin.

  Tossing Ezra a towel, she set the tray on the picnic table, then poured four glasses. Amanda and Chloe took theirs right away, downed the drinks, and let out loud burps.

  “Girls, that was disgusting. Where are your manners?”

  Ezra seemed to be trying not to laugh, a fact that endeared him to her. The last thing the girls needed was encouragement in those kinds of things.

  He walked over, towel slung around his neck, and Sophie couldn’t help but smile. He might be the guy trying to evict her, but right now he was the guy with leaves in his hair.

  She handed him a glass of lemonade, then pointed to his hair. “Leaves. Let me help you.”

  Standing on tiptoe, she brushed her hand over the spiky strands until the leaves had fallen. All but one landed on the ground around Ezra. The single reluctant leaf remained stuck to his forehead.

  Amanda saw it first and began to giggle, and Chloe followed suit. Ezra pretended to try to remove the leaf only to discover it seemed to be permanently attached. Sophie laughed along with the girls at the marine’s antics. When he jumped on the trampoline and called for the girls to join him, Sophie settled onto the porch step to watch.

  “Oh no, you don’t,” he called to her. “Come join us hard-working gardeners.”

  “Yeah, Mommy,” Chloe said. “Come join us.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. That was the girls’ birthday present. I’ve never tried to jump on it.”

  Ezra stopped and turned to face her, his hands on his hips. “Are you serious? You have a trampoline in your yard, and you don’t use it? That’s a travesty.”

  Amanda tugged on Ezra’s shirttail. “What’s a travesty?”

  He sat cross-legged on the trampoline and got eye-to-eye with Amanda. “Honey, that’s when a mommy has forgotten how to have fun.”

  “Hey, I know how to have fun.” She rose and put her hands on her hips. “In fact, I’m a pretty fun mom, aren’t I, girls?”

  Amanda looked at Chloe, then at Ezra. All three of them turned to grin at her. From this angle, the trio looked as if they were related, such were the expressions on their faces.

  “Traitors,” she said as she kicked off her shoes and headed for the trampoline. “Move out of the way, and you’ll see how much fun I am.”

  Ezra jumped off, then reached for Amanda, swinging her around before setting her on the ground. He did the same with Chloe.

  “It’s all yours, Sophie.” Ezra reached to wrap his hands around her waist and lift her onto the trampoline. “Want me to stand close in case you fall?”

  “I’m not going to fall,” she said with a bit more bravado than she felt. “Besides, that’s what the nets are for.”

  It was higher than she expected up there, and nothing seemed stable or secure. Sophie gave thanks that she’d gone to the extra expense of placing those guards around the edges, for she might be the one needing them.

  The first bounce was a bit higher than she’d anticipated, and the second one left her head spinning. The third, however, landed her on her rear, which set the girls laughing.

  “Hey, I meant to do that.”

  “Sure you did, Mommy,” Chloe said with a giggle.

  Sophie wobbled to her feet and grinned. “All right, I think I’ve got it now.”

  This time she managed four jumps in a row before she stopped of her own volition. “See,” she said, “I can do this. Who wants to join me?”

  “I do,” both girls said at once.

  They scrambled toward the trampoline only to find Ezra in their path. “No way, kids. You get to do this all the time. It’s my turn.”

  He climbed onto the trampoline and gave Sophie a wicked grin. “How high do you want to go
?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Ezra looked her up and down, then touched his temple with his forefinger. “You weigh what, a hundred, maybe a hundred and ten?”

  One-twenty, but you’ll never know that. “None of your business, Ezra.”

  “All right, well, I’m 175. I’m not up on all the laws of physics, but I’ll bet you I can bounce you at least as high as that tree there.”

  He pointed to a spot that might as well have been the moon. “Oh no, you—”

  Before she could finish her response, Ezra leaped into the air and came down hard on the surface of the trampoline. Sophie shot up well above the confines of the guardrails.

  Coming down, she somehow managed to land on her feet, although she did embarrass herself with a goofy sounding squeal. She gathered her balance and walked over to lean against the guardrail.

  “Want to go higher?” he asked with a teasing grin. “ ’Cause I’m your man. Just stand right there. I’ll send you into space.”

  “I’m fine right where I am,” she said. “Thanks anyway.”

  The girls clamored for her spot in the center of the contraption. Ezra handled the bickering with an expertise she didn’t know he had.

  “First time around, we go oldest to youngest.”

  “I’m first.” Chloe grinned, then stuck her tongue out at Amanda. Sophie bit hers to keep from correcting the elder twin.

  “Next time,” Ezra continued, “we’ll go in alphabetical order.”

  “Then I’m first,” Amanda said as she made her way over to the rail to stand by Sophie.

  “I like him, Mommy,” Amanda said while Chloe was jumping. “He reminds me of Miss Nell.”

  Sophie patted her daughter’s head and smiled. Her thoughts differed from Amanda’s. No, he reminds me of you and Chloe.

  ❧

  October 13

  For the fourth night in a row, Ezra lay awake well into the night, his mind churning and his heart aching. Had he really been so wrong about Sophie Comeaux and her daughters?

  He turned on his side and reached for the journal. The wrapping paper fell to the floor, no doubt sprinkling glitter on the carpet as it had done in Calvin’s car and on his clothing after the party.

  No matter. This was a gift. If the girls thought glitter was appropriate, then it was.

  A strange sensation, this feeling of fondness for people he had only recently met. And yet they felt like family to him, some extension of his grandmother that bridged the gap between her life and her death.

  It was all he could do not to get in his car and drop by. Again. If only it weren’t so late. Maybe he could bring over popcorn and a movie.

  Buck up, Marine. You’ve got it bad.

  Still, those hugs from the girls on Saturday and then again after the trampoline incident were the closest things to heaven he’d experienced in a long time. As much as he hated to admit it, he soaked up their affection like a long-dry sponge.

  And Sophie, well, she’d surprised him once again. When would he get used to the fact that seeing her regularly took his breath away?

  In his line of work, Ezra saw traitors whose loyalty was purchased by the highest bidder. He’d never understood how a man could go against all he held dear in order to pursue the glittering reward of cold cash or military honor. What he couldn’t get out of his mind was that he’d become like those he’d once scorned.

  When Sophie Comeaux walked into a room, he became a traitor to his cause and to his grandmother’s wishes. What the dark-haired woman didn’t know was that, like the mercenaries, Ezra would gladly sell his heart for the glittering reward of a few minutes or hours with her.

  Insanity, that’s what it was. He’d never felt anything before like this lethal combination of a silly need to impress her and a serious craving to hold her and keep her safe. He desired more time in her presence, and yet he had every reason to despise the person who’d taken advantage of his grandmother.

  She claimed she hadn’t deceived anyone. The proof would be in the diary, of that he felt certain. Maybe then he could find peace.

  He hadn’t read Granny Nell’s words; there would be time later for that. Rather, he’d held the diary to his chest all the way home, eyes closed. Calvin and Bree surely assumed he was asleep. Only God knew he was praying.

  Trouble was, this time his prayers were more unsettling than peaceful. The questions he asked mostly had answers he didn’t understand. The few answers he did understand, he didn’t like.

  Then there was the verse that kept running through his mind. “For we have no power to face this vast army that is attacking us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are upon you.”

  The words from the last part of verse 12 of 2 Chronicles 20 were written in pen under his cap and engraved on the back of his dog tags. Any other time they would serve as a reminder that no matter what army or enemy he came up against, the Lord stood at his side. Tonight, however, he felt as though they held the warning that his heavenly Father had opted not to climb into the bunker with him for this battle.

  All of it combined to send him to bed with an aching head and a troubled heart. When sleep eluded him, Ezra snapped on the light and propped himself up. “Granny Nell, let’s see what you have to say.”

  Ezra opened the journal to the first page and found a familiar accounting of Nell’s trip to New Orleans with the senior citizens. They’d gone to an exhibit of the masters only to find the gallery evacuated due to a fire alarm.

  In typical Nell Landry fashion, she turned the roadblock into a mere speed bump by convincing the bus driver to take the seniors to another gallery: the shooting gallery at an arcade on Canal Street. There the elderly amused themselves lobbing beanbags at such odd animals as green hippos and purple elephants and taking turns shooting water into little balloon-headed men. By the time the van driver got word that the gallery had reopened, the group was too tired to care and too happy to worry about what they had missed.

  “ ‘Too happy to worry about what we missed.’ ” Ezra read the words aloud as he closed the book and turned off the light. When was the last time he felt that way?

  Tonight on the porch with Sophie, he realized. All evening, in fact.

  Ezra groaned. “What’s happening, Marine?”

  “I don’t know, but it certainly will be fun to watch,” Calvin said as he appeared in silhouette at the door.

  “What are you doing up so late?” Ezra eased into a sitting position and turned on the light. “You usually hit the rack by ten. It’s almost midnight.”

  Calvin affected an irritated look. “Who are you now, my mother?”

  “Hey, don’t get defensive, pal. I was just kidding.”

  He said nothing for a moment, then shook his head. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m a little, well, concerned about something. I’ve got a possible conflict of interest on a case, and I’m not sure how to handle it.”

  “Really? Which case?”

  “Yours.”

  Twenty-five

  “Mine?”

  He nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

  “What’s the problem?” Ezra snapped his fingers and pointed at Calvin. “Bree Jackson. She’s the conflict, isn’t she?”

  Calvin’s expression was purposefully vague. “What makes you think that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Didn’t I hear you making plans on the phone to drive out and see her after work tomorrow?”

  Vague turned into defensive, and Calvin stuffed his fists into his jeans pockets. “You make it sound like I’m dating the woman. It so happens her car is still making that strange noise. I’m merely going to see if I can assist her.”

  “I see.” Ezra pounded his pillows, then fell into them. “Doesn’t sound like you’ve got a conflict at all.”

  His friend smiled. “You don’t think so?”

  “Nah,” Ezra said. “Sounds like you two are getting along real well.”

  “Oh, very funny.” He paused. “Look who’s talking,
Ezra. I saw you on the porch with Sophie Comeaux. If I hadn’t honked the horn, you probably would have kissed her.”

  “I doubt that.” But did he really believe what he’d just said? He couldn’t deny the thought crossed his mind while he was standing there in the moonlight.

  Calvin still stood in the doorway. The poor guy looked miserable.

  “Okay, so maybe Miss Jackson ought to call AAA and get her car towed to a repair shop,” Ezra said. “I mean, you are going against her in a lawsuit. It wouldn’t be right to fraternize with the enemy.”

  “Look—all kidding aside.” Calvin lowered himself into the chair and propped his feet on the ottoman. “How serious are you about going forward with this lawsuit?”

  “I don’t know.” Ezra raked his hands through his hair. “Okay, so maybe I have had a couple of things happen that make me wonder.”

  “Like gardening and trampoline jumping?”

  Ezra cringed. “You heard.”

  “Bree might have mentioned it last night.”

  He sighed. “Anyway, you know I’m up for that job in the Pentagon, right?”

  “I remember you telling me about it when the general called. You really thinking of leaving special ops? I figured you’d be chasing bad guys through the desert in your wheel-chair before you’d quit.”

  “There’s something to be said for getting out while I’m still at the top of my game.” Ezra sighed. “Working national security would pretty much be the same job, except I don’t have to sleep in a tent and eat bugs for dinner. And then there’s the promotion. I’ve waited all my career to reach the rank of lieutenant colonel.”

  Calvin made a face. “You ate bugs? What kind?”

  “Crunchy ones, and only a couple of times. Tasted just like chicken.” He paused to chuckle. “Anyway, in your opinion as my attorney, what would it hurt to put this off for a while and let Sophie and the girls live there? I don’t mean permanently. Just while I’m in D.C.”

  Calvin sat up a little straighter. “Go on.”

  “Yeah, well, the general’s going to make his decision any day now, which means I don’t have the time to dispose of the property and Granny Nell’s things.” Ezra shrugged. “I don’t want to rush into anything.”