by Judith Lucci
Chapter 30
The long driveway to Stark’s home looked like a Rockwell painting. The trees were bent over with snow, and his bluestone, three-bedroom cottage was aglow with Christmas lights and decorations. He smiled to himself, happy to be home, but in his mind he knew he couldn’t stay long. His duplicity would soon be discovered and he would be a target, along with his family.
Home, there is nothing like it. His small, blonde-headed, pig-tailed daughter ran to the front door and pulled it open, spilling over a foot of snow and ice on the hardwood floors and Oriental rug in the foyer.
“Daddy, daddy, you are here! I have missed you so much.”
As Haley held her hands up, Stark reached down and lifted his daughter off the floor. He smothered her with hugs and kisses. She returned the same.
“Hey, Pumpkin, we're gonna have fun tonight. I have a new movie and some popcorn that we’re gonna pop and put white chocolate on top of. It tastes great," he added, seeing the look of displeasure on her small face.
Haley wasn’t so sure, “Ewwwwww. White chocolate? Yuk! I just want the popcorn,” she insisted, her pig-tails bobbing as she spoke and her face scrunched up in a disapproving scowl.
“You’ll love the chocolate on the popcorn, I promise,” Stark assured. “I’ll make two batches - one with chocolate and one without.”
Haley clung to his black, down vest as he carried her into the kitchen and sat her on the countertop. Even though she was small for five years of age, Haley appeared much larger on the kitchen counter. He reached into his bag and pulled out two bottles of Barboursville Vineyards Cabernet Sauvignon. He also reached down for a bottle of Stone Mountains Vineyards white house wine, a spicy blend which he had dreamed of sharing with his beautiful wife for the past several days. Haley stared at him, her eyes enormous.
“Mommy’s been sick all day. I called grandma because she asked me to,” Haley announced, puffed up with importance as she related the recent news to her father. “We may have to watch the movie in her room to keep her company.”
Once again Stark hugged his small daughter tightly. “That’s okay, Pumpkin. We’ve done that before and besides,.. Oh, hello, Sarah. Haley just told me you were here.” Stark was pleased to see his mother-in-law enter the kitchen.
Sarah gave Stark a brief kiss on the cheek and a thin, tight smile. Her face was etched with concern and fatigue. Stark felt his stomach contract.
“How’s Helen? She seemed well when I left a couple of days ago.” Stark knew he didn’t want the answer, but he was getting it anyway.
Sarah looked at Haley, Stark’s arms still firmly wrapped around her, and said, “Honey, would you like to watch the Disney channel in your room?”
Haley bobbed her head up and down. “Yes, yes, grandma. You know it’s my favorite channel. Down, Daddy, down,” she commanded. “Let me get down so I can go see the movie,” Haley implored her father, pushing against his broad chest.
Stark hugged his daughter tightly again and let her shimmy down his long legs. As Haley left with her grandmother, he reached in the cabinet for a high-ball glass and the bottle of Blackjack. He poured himself two fingers and started down the long hallway to his wife’s room.
Helen lay on her left side facing the door, her blonde hair spread over the pillow. She had on a pale green bed jacket and appeared to be sleeping soundly. Stark pulled his chair close to the bed and took her frail, small-boned hand into his. He noted the devastating changes that the cancer had wreaked upon his beautiful wife. Her skin was translucent, and he could trace the veins in her hand all the way up to her shoulders and neck.
As he watched her sleeping, he admired her frail beauty, and remembered the wonderful years they’d had together. Ten of them, they’d been together for ten years, and parents to Haley for five of those years. He was sure they’d be the best years of his life. He was also sure that they would end soon. He felt his mother-in-law law touch him on the shoulder. He looked up at her and saw the tears in her eyes.
“Doc was here earlier, Jake. He increased her morphine for the pain. She has been suffering so much the past 24 hours. He told me that the end was very near.”
Jake’s shoulders collapsed in defeat. He turned his head away.
Sarah looked down at her rugged, American hero son-in-law and knew he was about to protest, to deny the fact that his wife would die soon. She put her index finger on his lips and shook her head. “No, Jake. It’s time for her to move on. She’s been fighting hard for five years and she is just exhausted. I know she doesn’t want to disappoint you, so I think you will need to give her permission to die. Will you do that for me? “
Stark just looked at Sarah, unable to speak. Finally he uttered, “I don’t know what to say. I love her so much, but I know Helen never wanted to spend her last days in a drug-induced coma.” She had told him over and over that she only wanted to be alive for as long as she was able to be a wife to him and a mother to Haley. But she is those things, even now, Jake argued to himself, but he knew it wasn’t what Helen wanted. He stood up and hugged Sarah, a beautiful, older, version of his wife. “I know. I will give her permission. Tonight,” he said hoarsely.
“Thank you, Jake,” Sarah whispered as soft sobs shuddered through her body. Jake hugged her and stroked her back, trying to push the sobs away. It was useless. After all, she was Helen’s mother and she’d known her even longer than he had.
Stark released Sarah after several minutes and looked directly into her eyes, “Sarah, I must leave early in the morning. Things did not go well today and I need to go back into work. Can you promise me that you will take Haley and keep her? Perhaps take her to your house and enroll her in school. I even think you should change Haley's name to your name, just to be safe.”
Sarah's eyes were wide with fear. “Of course, Jake you know I will take care of Haley and provide for anything she needs. But can’t you stay for a few days with Helen, in case she lives?”
Jake shook his head sadly and said, “No can do, Sarah, although I know in my heart I should. I have things to do quickly, so that I can provide for Haley in the future. Please trust me on this.”
Sarah hugged him again and said, “I always trust you, Jake Stark. I trusted you to take care of my daughter and you have, and you’ve made her very happy. Haley will be fine. Come in the kitchen and grab a bowl of vegetable soup. It’s good, and perfect for a night like tonight. You can go and watch movies with Haley.” Sarah had never quite known what Jake did for a living, but she had always suspected he was some sort of spy or national security government agent. I just wish he could be with Helen when she dies.
Jake dutifully followed his mother-in-law, his stomach suddenly growling with the anticipation of food. It had been many hours since he had eaten.
As he lay in the bed with Haley and watched Mickey Mouse for the tenth time, he teased her about all of the white chocolate popcorn she was eating. “I thought you didn’t like it, I thought you wouldn’t eat the popcorn with icing,” he taunted her.
She smiled at him. “I love it, daddy. You cooked it good,” Haley replied happily, popcorn dropping from her mouth and falling all over the bed. Can we have this every weekend?”
“We can have it every weekend I’m home,” Stark promised as he snuggled with Haley. He stayed with her until the movie was over and she went to sleep. Confident that she was asleep, he went into his small office and flipped on the TV for news updates.
It was exactly as he expected. Wyndley Farm was overrun with police, federal agents, and local law enforcement. The good news was the low death toll. I was in time, thank God. There was no mention of Seth's body. There was a clip of Adam Lee denouncing the ‘people who bombed his farm’ and a view of the burning, smoldering horse barn with canvas tarps covering the dead horses. All in all, it was a sad and tragic story. The pundits suggested a suspected terrorist plot, and over and over they replayed the clip of Adam Lee railing against jihad last fall in New Orleans.
Stark clicked off
the remote, showered, and got in the bed with Helen. As he reached over to hug her, her eyes opened and she smiled at him. “Jake, I didn't know you were home.”
Helen’s voice was a whisper, and she was short of breath.
“I got here a couple of hours ago and you were sleeping, so I watched a movie with Haley. How do you feel,” Stark asked.
Helen smiled again, her face radiant and beautiful in the pale light. Her green eyes were soft and moist as she looked at him with love in her eyes. “You’re my snuggle bunny and that’s all I care about.” She paused for a moment and added, “Jake, we have to talk.”
Jake shushed her with two fingers over her lips. He had tears in his eyes. “It’s okay, Helen. You've worked so hard. If you are too tired to fight this disease anymore, then let us end your battle.” Jake was taken aback by the look of relief that danced across wife’s beautiful face. I never knew this was so hard for her. I have been so thoughtless and selfish.
“Thank you, my love. Now hold me. I’m cold! But first, open the drapes so I can see the snow.”
Jake opened the curtains to a seemingly endless panorama of snow and mountains. He held his wife tightly and she asked, “Jacob, you do have the poems I wrote for Haley, don’t you? I want her to have them when she is 12 years old.”
“Of course I do, honey. I have the poems and their illustrations bound together as a book. There are three copies and your mother has two of them. The third is in our safety deposit box.”
“You are the best husband a woman could have,” Helen said softly as she gave him a tender kiss on his cheek. “I love you, now and always.”
“I love you too, Helen. You and Haley are the best things that have ever happened to me.” Jake’s voice was choked as he felt his wife wipe the tears from his eyes.
“Now, now, Jacob. You’ll be OK. After all, you’ve got my mother and Haley to tell you what to do, right,” Helen's soft voice teased him.
“Yeah, I do. Now, that will certainly keep me busy,” Stark joked as he held his wife in his arms for the rest of the long, snowy night. It was right before dawn when the last breath left her body. He kissed her gently an hour later, and then left another movie for Haley and a note for Sarah. He had no clue when he would see either of them again. And, there was no one else he cared more about than those he was leaving in the snow-filled Shenandoah Valley in the early morning hours of January 2nd.
Chapter 31
Jack Francoise was in surgery. The ambulance had arrived at the Medical College of Virginia Level 1 Emergency department two and a half hours after leaving Wyndley Farm. Acting on a call from Congressman Adam Patrick Lee, the Virginia State Police had met the ambulance outside of Ashland, Virginia, and provided an escort from Ashland to downtown Richmond, another long, tedious fifty minutes in the blinding snow and ice with a deathly ill man in tow.
Robert was impressed. The trauma surgeon had met the ambulance outside, and Jack had been given several liters of blood and immediately whisked to the hospital OR suite, reportedly the largest operating room on the east coast. The surgeon gave Robert a reassuring smile and congratulated him on keeping Jack alive in the ambulance and as a gesture of collegiality, offered to have Robert scrub in to the surgery.
“Dr. Bonnet, you’re welcome to come in the OR with us. You deserve to follow this through, you and Dr. Desmonde kept him alive for the last three hours,” the chief trauma surgeon, Dr. Gray Hartley, offered. Hartley was a tall, brown-haired guy with green eyes that were the same color as his scrubs. He exuded confidence and competence.
Robert smiled with appreciation, but declined. “Thank you very much, but I think you will be fine without me. I trust you and your team implicitly. I think I’ll take Monique and scout out some food.”
Hartley nodded, “I understand. Check out Joe’s Diner on the mezzanine. It’s a Richmond favorite and they’ve just opened here at the hospital.” He checked his watch and continued, “It’s a little after 7, and they’ll be open until after 9. It’ll be close to midnight before we’re done in the OR, so take your time.”
Robert nodded and Hartley added, “We’ve got ortho on call as well, just in case we have problems with his femur or the femur head.”
An OR nurse came out and waved at Dr. Hartley, “We’re ready, Doctor. Anesthesia is in and we’re standing by.”
Monique was gray with fatigue and blood stains covered her velvet jacket and silk blouse as she offered her hand to Dr. Hartley. “Thank you so much, and please take care of my husband. We’ve only been married since last night,” she added, finally losing control as tears streamed down her face.
Dr. Hartley placed his hand on her shoulder and smiled gently, “Dr. Desmonde, don’t worry. We’ve taken care of patients in much worse shape than Commander Francoise. Besides,” he winked, “I heard from a very reliable source that he’s a pretty tough dude, so don’t you worry.”
Monique laughed briefly, smiling through her tears. “Thank you so much, Dr. Hartley. I’m usually a little bit more together, but it’s been a hard day,” Monique admitted, her voice apologetic.
Dr. Hartley flashed her a smile and Monique added “I’m sure you’re going to fix him right up.”
Dr. Hartley grinned. “Yeah. You bet. And, if it helps, I was an Air Force flight surgeon and did several tours in Afghanistan after I finished my residency at Duke. I’ve cleaned up plenty of shrapnel wounds and done a lot of vascular surgery. I think I can fix him,” he reassured her.
Robert placed his arm around Monique’s shoulders. “Yes, it’s been a very hard day, but I think it’s going to end well.” He turned to Monique, “Let go to Joe’s and grab some food. We need to call the farm and check on things. I want to know how Alex is.”
“You guys enjoy, I’ve got work to do,” Hartley added. “I’ll see you on the other side,” he said and flashed another smile as he departed.
“Thank you, Dr. Hartley. Good luck in there. We’ll see you,” Monique said and gave him a thumbs up.
“Dr. Bonnet, would you each like a pair of these,” the OR nurse asked, holding out two pairs of scrubs. “You are welcome to shower and change in our dressing room if you like. We’ll keep your clothes with the Commander’s things and you can get them later.”
Monique smiled her thanks to the nurse and felt almost happy at the thought of clean scrubs and a shower. “Oh, yes, thank you so much!” This is just what I need. A shower and clean clothes are much more important to me right now than food! She looked apologetically at Robert, “Can you wait 30 minutes to eat?”
“Sure. A shower sounds great to me. I’ll clean up too, but you go first. I’m gonna call the farm, check on things there.”
Monique gratefully accepted the scrubs and booties from the nurse and disappeared to the nurses’ locker room feeling better than she had in hours. This will make me feel alive again. I feel like I’ve been up for days.
Monique looked at herself in the mirror and grimaced. She looked nothing like the beautiful bride she’d been the evening before. She checked her watch. In approximately 27 minutes she’d been married for a full 24 hours. This is a hell of a honeymoon. I never want another like it, she thought as she checked the temperature of the water in the shower.
Robert disappeared into the doctors’ on call room and dialed the number of Wyndley, hoping for good news about Alex.
Chapter 32
It had been a long day of doing nothing for Louis Destephano. Downtown Manhattan had been quiet all day and while he had brokered one real estate deal, he really hadn’t accomplished much else. At precisely seven in the evening, his driver dropped him off at his loft near Central Park West.
Rudolph, the doorman, nodded and pressed the brass elevator button for the top floor. The elevator was empty, and Louis allowed himself to rest his entire body against the gilded side of the elevator. I am going to have to get this hip looked after. It’s just getting worse and worse.
The elevator opened into the well-appointed foyer and Louis trudg
ed through his great room over to the wet bar for his evening treat, a gigantic tumbler of Scotch. As he eased into his Italian leather recliner, his eyes were drawn to a picture on a sofa table. It was a picture of Alex, taken while she was an undergrad at the University of Virginia. He stared at her as he quickly drank the scotch, hoping it would ease the pain in his hip.
As he studied the image of his daughter, he noted an interesting combination of traits from both him and her mother. She had the beautiful blue eyes and arched eyebrows that she had inherited from her mother, as well as the beautiful fair skin of her mother’s southern Italian heritage. But the red hair, that was clearly a Destephano gene. He thought she favored a younger picture of his mother. I am going to contact her and soon. The doctors haven’t been clear about my prognosis, but even if I live to be a hundred, which is unlikely, I want to know my only child.
He stared into the bottom of his glass. For some reason the single malt wasn’t tasting good. Why is it so bitter?
Louis continued to rest, thinking about the best way to contact Alex. Perhaps I can invite her to the house on Long Island or even the Chateau in Switzerland. As he pondered the best way to introduce himself to his daughter, he reached for the remote and clicked on CNN.
The news anchor, Anderson Cooper, reported on ‘what authorities are calling a potential terrorist strike in Virginia at the home of a powerful senator’. As the camera skipped to a burning barn in the snow, Louis felt his blood pressure skyrocket. It looked like the horse facility at Wyndley.
The camera panned over to the brick mansion and Louis jumped from his chair to get a better look. It was the mansion at Wyndley Farm. Of course, it’s New Year’s Day, the day of the famous Bloody Mary Brunch hosted by the Congressman and Kathryn. What a perfect day to strike the unassuming Congressman and kill several hundred people.
Louis, as most Americans, had applauded Adam when he had spoken fervently and emotionally against jihad in New Orleans several months before. In a matter of hours, Adam had become a folk hero in America. Even though he and Adam had their differences, Louis had always had a grudging respect for the man. He wondered what he would say against ISIS, given the chance. It was probably better for the world not to know, and much safer for his family.
