Amanda's Blue Marine

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Amanda's Blue Marine Page 16

by Doreen Owens Malek


  "So you miss me too," she said in a small voice.

  "I don't get a chance to miss you, Mandy, because I see your face every time I close my eyes and I dream about you every time I fall asleep." He sounded annoyed that he couldn't control his subconscious.

  "Then why haven't you called me?" she asked wistfully.

  “Are you still marrying Henderson?” Kelly countered, spreading his hands, palms up and fingers extended, in a gesture of futility.

  The door opened behind them and a uniformed policewoman looked in at them. She saw their intense expressions and took in the situation at a glance.

  "Oh, sorry," she said. She turned on her heel and went back out, closing the door behind her.

  "Why are you here, Mandy?" Kelly asked patiently as soon as she had left.

  "Commissioner Foster asked me to give you the medal personally. I don't think I can do that."

  "Why not?" He was looking at her intently. "You don't want to be part of it?"

  Mandy shook her head. "No, I'll be there, I told you that. I just think that in front of all those people..." She stopped.

  "You don't want to be identified with me so publicly," he finished for her, his expression hardening. "I mean, pictures in the newspapers are one thing, but this you would choose to do voluntarily for all the world to see."

  She looked back at him. She realized that despite all of his offhanded patter about the force and the politics and the meaningless awards he was proud of being a police officer and he was proud of what he had done to save her. Getting the medal meant a lot to him and she was ruining it.

  She shook her head violently. "That's not it," she whispered.

  He waited, hands on hips like the running back he had once been, anticipating the call.

  "I'll babble or say something stupid. I know I'll cry." She gestured helplessly, feeling the sting of tears already. "I don't want to screw it up for you."

  "I'll be there. You won't screw it up, Mandy. I'll help you," he said steadily.

  "You always help me," she replied. “Why?”

  His lips parted and he was about to say something when the door opened again and the desk sergeant said, "Foster wants to see you, Kelly. What are you hiding in here for?" Langer took in Mandy's emotional expression and smirked.

  "I'll be right there," Kelly replied neutrally and then added darkly after the door closed again, "Langer is going to die soon."

  "I should go," Mandy said. "You work here and I'm making a scene. You’re right. I'll give you the medal, Brendan."

  He sighed, obviously relieved that she was calming down but loath to let her go. He wanted to be with her too, even under these less than ideal circumstances.

  He caught her arm as she moved away from him.

  "I promise it will be okay," he said.

  She nodded.

  "I'll see you there on Friday," he added.

  Mandy walked out into the hall and stopped at Langer's desk.

  "Cancel my appointment with the Commissioner," she said to Langer.

  He grinned. "Problem solved?" he inquired nosily.

  Mandy wanted to pinch him. She hoped she never got so old that she enjoyed witnessing the problems of those young enough to have some juices still flowing. None of your business, she wanted to say.

  "Goodbye, Sergeant Langer," she called, as she passed his desk.

  That Kelly, Langer thought enviously as Mandy's perfume lingered in the air behind her.

  He sure could break some hearts.

  * * * * *

  Mandy changed her outfit three times the night of the medal ceremony. Tom, freshly returned from Beijing, paced in the living room while she got dressed. Mandy had tried to talk him into staying in China over the phone but Tom knew that supporting his fiancée’s rescuer in public was the politically correct thing to do. So he had flown all night, making connections twice, to be back for it.

  "I don't even know why I’m wearing this thing," he said irritably, fiddling with his bow tie as he looked into the mirror over her sofa. “Or why we’re going.”

  His statement was disingenuous but Mandy didn’t want to fight with him. On this of all nights she would need to be calm, it would be difficult enough to get through this as it was.

  "We're going because you are a politician and the man being honored is a cop who saved your fiancée’s life. You’ll get points for public exposure and showing support for the police at the same time. Your picture will be taken." She kept her tone neutral and nonjudgmental.

  "You look best in that," Tom commented a she studied the last dress in her mirror. It was an emerald green silk sheath with a form fitting halter top and a knee length draped chiffon skirt.

  "Thanks," Mandy said, registering that she hadn't asked for his opinion.

  "I look ridiculous in this monkey suit," Tom complained. "The cops are all wearing uniforms, why do the guests have to dress for the senior prom?"

  "I didn't request the dress code," Mandy said, wishing he would be quiet. She felt like an exposed nerve and his chatter wasn't helping her.

  "We’re going to take your car because I have a meeting later. Your parents are going to meet us there," he added.

  Oh, joy, Mandy thought. She hadn’t been aware that they were coming too, but she realized that Lieutenant Manning must have invited them. Interestingly, Margaret had not mentioned it. Mandy snagged the zipper on the side of her dress in irritation.

  All she needed was Margaret Redfield at ringside taking copious notes on her daughter's behavior.

  "Why are they coming?" Mandy asked, to confirm her suspicions.

  "Foster invited them," Tom said. "Chamber of Commerce, remember?"

  Mandy sighed. That explained it. Her parents might have made an excuse to Manning but would not refuse an invitation from the Police Commissioner.

  Mandy pulled earrings out of a jewel case and looked at herself again in the mirror.

  It was going to be a long night.

  * * * * *

  There were so many people at the medal ceremony that Mandy wanted to turn around and go home the minute she saw the crowd. Only the knowledge that Kelly wanted her to be there kept her from developing a headache and excusing herself. She pushed through the mob behind Tom, ignoring the flashing cameras, and made her way to the dais at the front of the room. She was welcomed by a police PR rep who showed her where to go. Tom got her situated and vanished as soon as possible, leaving her sitting next to one of the rescued office workers. She looked around for Kelly, who was nowhere to be seen. Lieutenant Manning arrived and took his place next to Foster at the raised table across the stage from her. The audience members murmured and seated themselves as Mandy waited tensely for the event to begin.

  It seemed an eternity before Commissioner Foster finally rose to talk to the assembly, which fell silent as he took the microphone. Mandy listened to the speech about Kelly’s stellar qualities of devotion to duty and valor under fire and wondered where the hell this paragon was. Then as Foster concluded his remarks with the words, “Detective Brendan Kelly!” Mandy saw Kelly step out from the curtains at the back of the stage and the crowd erupted into applause.

  He looked fabulous. Slim and straight in his navy blue dress uniform, with peaked hat and white gloves, he was almost iconic. There was even an American flag on the stage to form a backdrop. Mandy felt the sting of tears behind her eyes as she watched him. Good for you, Brendan, she thought. Good for you.

  She was startled out of her reverie as Foster walked over to her during the ovation. He handed her the medal on a long looped satin ribbon. Mandy was nonplused; she had not been informed of the exact procedure and there had been no rehearsal. She rose at Foster’s direction and walked over to center stage where Kelly was standing. The applause, which had died down as she took her position, grew fainter as she reached up and draped the ribbon around Kelly's neck as he bent his head.

  Cameras flashed and whirred incessantly.

  The audience exploded again in renewe
d and louder applause. Kelly looked down at her and smiled. They were framed in the footlights and the moment lingered. The clapping escalated further and someone in the front row screamed, "Kiss him!"

  Kelly continued to hold Mandy's gaze with his as if they were alone instead of on a stage in front of a vocal crowd. More voices took up the chant of "Kiss him, kiss him!" and a few people balled up their press releases and threw them at Mandy’s feet.

  Mandy stood on tiptoe and kissed Kelly on the cheek.

  The crowd went wild, stamping and whistling and catcalling. Mandy was stepping back from Kelly when he dropped his hands to her shoulders to stop her. Then he bent swiftly to kiss her lightly and quickly on the mouth.

  The onlookers erupted in hysterical cheers. Everyone was laughing and clapping and enjoying the moment.

  Except for three people.

  Jonathan Redfield stroked his chin, his face a mask of concern. Next to him his wife lowered her head and put her hand over her eyes. And in the front row Tom Henderson folded his arms and sighed.

  Kelly looked out at the audience and took Mandy's hand, holding it up like an actor taking a bow with his co-star.

  "Steady," he said as he turned to release her. "Almost there."

  Then he let her go and went back to his seat, standing in front of it and waiting for the applause to die down.

  Gracefully done, Margaret Redfield thought as she watched the event unfold. She was a performer herself and recognized a smooth move when she saw one. She was developing some respect for Kelly’s natural ability to turn events to his advantage; it would be a major mistake to dismiss him as stupid. He couldn’t have held Amanda’s attention for this long and with this degree of interest if he were, no matter what he looked like. Margaret understood that she would not be able to convince Amanda to forget Kelly; she also understood that this cop was a real threat to Tom, much more so than the Congressman himself appreciated. Margaret realized that disregarding Kelly as a dumb flatfoot was not in Tom’s best interest and began to reassess how she could persuade Tom to deal with the situation more effectively.

  It was time to pay more attention to Mandy and less to his career, or he might wind up without Jon Redfield's money to finance that career.

  8

  The rest of the medal ceremony went by in a blur for Mandy. She was vaguely aware of returning to her seat and hearing more speeches and the final goodbyes. The crowd was dispersing to sample the dessert spread provided in an attached room as she remained at the table on the dais, too enervated to move. Once again, Kelly was nowhere to be seen and she was deciding whether to find her parents or look for Tom when Tom appeared. He announced that he was leaving for a late meeting and would see her afterward at her parents’ house to plan her father’s birthday party.

  “You have your car to get home,” Tom told her. “I’ll tell your father that.”

  Having Tom managing her life for her on top of the evening’s trying festivities was just a little much and she said, “I’ll get home on my own, Tom, and I can tell my father that too.”

  He looked at her, annoyed. “What did you think of your bodyguard up there?” he asked. “Quite the performer, isn’t he? You could tell he enjoyed being the center of attention.”

  “The next time you save somebody’s life, Tom, I’ll make sure you get a medal,” Mandy replied wearily.

  “Why are you so defensive about him?” Tom asked, puzzled. “I merely stated the obvious.”

  Mandy shook her head, unable to reply. It wasn’t Tom’s fault that things weren’t working out the way she wanted.

  It was up to Kelly to make a move to change the status quo, and he wasn’t making the move. End of story.

  “I’ll see you later, maybe not until around eleven,” Tom said, and Mandy nodded as he left.

  Her cell phone rang as he was walking away. It was her father telling her to meet him at the entrance to the reception room. She got up, gathered her things, and walked out to the lobby, where Jonathan and Margaret were waiting for her.

  Mandy was just meeting her parents when Kelly emerged from the auditorium with Lieutenant Manning. The five people stopped to greet each other and the men all shook hands. Everyone congratulated Kelly. Mandy thought she would scream as they all exchanged pleasantries. She wished she were big enough to hit Kelly over the head with a rock and drag him off to a cave.

  Things were so much simpler a few millennia ago.

  Mandy endured the conversation, noticing that her father looked Kelly over thoughtfully and her mother was barely civil to the evening’s guest of honor. As Jon Redfield huddled to discuss some upcoming event with Manning Mandy said to her mother, “You go on. I’ll come to your house later to meet Tom.”

  Margaret looked significantly at Kelly.

  “I’m just going to say good night,” Mandy said, as Kelly turned away a reporter who had interrupted them.

  Margaret went ahead to join the older men as Kelly turned back to Mandy.

  “Where were you?” Mandy asked. “You vanished after the ceremony.”

  “Press pictures. Foster wanted shots of the monkey of the moment displayed in the papers.”

  Mandy nodded. Foster knew good media material when he saw it, and it didn’t hurt that his star detective coincidentally looked the part he was playing from his neat dark hat to his spotless white gloves.

  “Sorry I took so long.” He jerked his head toward the entrance and added, "Where's Henderson?"

  "He left already."

  Kelly nodded. "Got a minute?"

  "Yes," Mandy said. More than a minute.

  Kelly took her hand and pulled her along with him as he walked down the main corridor. With his free hand he opened doors on several meetings in progress before he located an empty banquet room, set up with napkins and tablecloths in readiness for some event the next day. The overhead chandelier was on at a low level and he turned the control on the wall to shut it off, leaving only a small bar light burning at the back of the reception area. They entered the hushed, carpeted room, now shrouded in almost complete darkness. He closed the door behind them, jamming the back of a chair under the door handle so it wouldn't move, and did the same to a side door which also provided an exit from the main room.

  "If people don't see a light under the doors they should think the room is empty," he said, turning to her and leading her toward the bar. Mandy could see him and a perimeter of about three feet around him, and then everything faded into black behind them.

  He pulled his tie free from his collar, shoving it into his pocket, and took off his jacket, dropping it on an empty table. He tossed his hat and gloves on top of it.

  "Thanks for coming to this," he said to her.

  "I wouldn’t have missed it, Kelly.”

  They stood facing one another, wanting to be together and extend these final moments, but each unsure what to say. They heard laughter and the sound of applause coming from an event taking place down the hall.

  “You look fabulous,” he said finally, taking in her deep green halter dress and stiletto heels. He moved forward and looked at her intimately, isolating her in his orbit as he always could. They were sealed off from the rest of the universe as effectively as if the room were full of people and he had drawn a curtain around just them.

  "So do you," she replied. "The full uniform is very impressive. The white gloves are a really nice touch.”

  "You like it?"

  "I’ve never seen it. You wear it well." He was mostly in plainclothes as a detective.

  "These public interest things are kind of hokey anyway, medal ceremonies and all that jazz," he added sheepishly.

  She nodded. "Well, I'm the public, and I'm interested," she said lightly.

  They fell silent, gazing at one another. Mandy could feel the lump growing in her throat.

  "I don't know how to say goodbye to you, Kelly," she finally admitted.

  "Then don't," he answered softly. His stillwater eyes flashed in the semi-darkness. He was c
lose enough for her to see him clearly despite the gloom surrounding them.

  "I have to. You know that."

  "You're getting married," he said flatly.

  "Yes."

  "But not tonight. You're not getting married tonight."

  They were whispering, as if some presence in the empty room might overhear them.

  "What do you mean?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

  "Can't I just hold you a little, for a minute or two?" He sounded as desperate as she felt, and even though she knew she was making a mistake, even though she knew she was opening the floodgates to unleash high tide, she stepped into his arms.

  "I want to remember this forever," he murmured, as she pressed her cheek against his uniform blouse and closed her eyes.

  "Nobody has ever made me feel as safe as you do," she said against his chest.

  "That's my job," he replied, his voice muffled by her hair.

  "You're very good at your job."

  He said nothing, merely tightened his grip on her. She had been this close to him before, during the Cameron siege when they were escaping together, and she'd had a vivid impression of his persona then which was reinforced now: strength, capability, a shield from harm. It was the quality that her conservative, respectful father had taught her to associate with the police, and Kelly embodied it. That combined with his physical appeal had devastated her from the start. He was the most attractive man she had ever met. And now she would never see him again. Not in the same way. Not in the way she needed. Their tenuous connection would be severed and in the future they would lead separate lives.

 

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