Sex, Lies & Sweet Tea

by Kris Calvert

  I pulled into the garage at Lone Oak only to see Miss Celia getting into her car to go home for the night. “Sorry I didn’t call, Miss Celia,” I shouted to her. “I had a long day with Momma and then I had Chinese takeout for dinner.”

  “No worries, baby,” she replied as she waved to me. “I’ve left you some snacks in the icebox and there’s a pitcher of sweet tea in your study.”

  “Thank you.”

  Southern women were always thinking forward, always looking out for the people they loved. Miss Mimi was right, it was important to leave a legacy behind.

  I quickly unloaded in the study and ran the stairs two at a time to shower off. It was going to be a long night, and if I smelled like Sam I’d never be able to concentrate.

  The water felt great and relaxed my neck muscles quickly. My guess was that James Miller was involved somehow, but after meeting him I had a feeling if he ever had a great or devious idea, it would die of loneliness.

  I dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt and went to the study to login to the FBI database and pour myself a glass of sweet tea.

  Gazing at my phone, I had two new text messages.

  SAM: Thank you for loving me.

  MICAH: Call me

  I picked up the phone and immediately called Micah as the database began to boot up.

  “Yo, Callahan,” she said.

  “What’s up?”

  “Ansible Star is a company with headquarters listed to a PO box in Macon.”

  “Shit, Micah, I told you that much.”

  “Yeah, well it only exists on paper. There is no Ansible Star Group. We’re trying to trace any bank records, if there are any. My guess is it’s feeding to an—”

  “Offshore account.” I finished.

  “Yes. Also, Mac, the anonymous emails?”

  “Yeah.”

  Micah lowered her voice, and I knew she was trying her best to give me a heads up on something. “We’ve nailed down an IP address after NSA hacked their security program, and Dan’s got some questions for you.”

  “Like what?” I asked, looking for my copies of the emails.

  “The IP address where the emails were generated is in the administration office.”

  “The snitch is on the inside. We’ve had this conversation.”

  “That’s not all.”

  “For Christ’s sake, Micah, what?” I asked, finally losing my patience.

  “The password from the hospital server on that IP is MacCallahan#1.”

  22

  SAMANTHA

  I drove home in a daze. I felt wild and out of control. I was in love. If it weren’t so late, I would turn the car around so I could tell Mimi about my night. Mac Callahan was the most wonderful, honest and loving man I’d ever known. And he loved me. He loved me.

  When I made it home, Polly was lounging in a tank top and pajama bottoms, waiting for me in the family room. We’d made it the coziest area in the huge house and it was where we spent most of our evenings. “How was your day?” Polly asked.

  “Pretty exciting,” I replied. “How was yours?”

  “Well, Dax had a good day at school. It’s dinosaur week, so we had an in-depth discussion about plant eaters and meat eaters during dinner.”

  “Sounds interesting.”

  “Oh, it was,” Polly quipped with sarcasm. “Did you see hot-ass Mac Callahan today?”

  “Yes,” I said, dropping my head and blushing.

  “Really?” She quickly switched from her comfy relined position to a ready-to-pounce. “I need details.”

  “I don’t know about the details. It might spoil it.”

  “Are you kidding? I had to hear everything about the damn wax I forced you to get. This is not too personal,” Polly argued.

  I slowly sat in the easy chair opposite her, giving myself time to think. “We were supposed to go out, but Mac brought Chinese food into the office tonight.”

  Polly lit up. “You totally did him in the office, didn’t you?”

  “Maybe,” I deadpanned.

  “That’s fantastic—was it good?”

  “I don’t have a lot to compare it to.”

  “You know if the sex is good or not, Samantha. C’mon. I’m a lonely woman in a small town whose hottest date in four months is a three year old. I need details.”

  I leaned in as if someone else might be listening. “We decided to eat in the boardroom, because my office was covered with stacks of paper, but there were even more stacks of paper in the boardroom. He told me to lock the door when things started heating up and then laid me out on the boardroom table, sweeping piles and piles of paper into the air. We were making love and receipts were raining over our heads.”

  “He’s one badass motherfucker,” said Polly.

  By the look on her face, I could tell she suddenly realized the irony of her words.

  “Sorry. No pun intended.”

  “Wow. He is.” I giggled now that the words meant so much more.

  “But was the sex good? I mean, I’ve gotta hand it to the guy. He can set up a sexy scenario like nobody’s business, but if he’s—ya know, big hat, no cattle, what’s the point?”

  “The sex is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Somehow he manages to be a seductive badass, and at the same time he’s able to completely stay the gentleman he always is.”

  “Reeeeally.” Polly drew out the word and sank back into her chair.

  “It’s a lot to take. He’s a lot to take.”

  “Geez, a gentleman in bed. What’s that like? Does he ask for your permission to climax into the condom?” Polly asked, proud of her joke.

  We laughed until we couldn’t breathe and then I confessed. “He doesn’t ask, but it’s always ladies first.”

  Polly squealed, shouting loudly, “I knew it!”

  “Shhhhhhh…. We’ll wake Dax.” We couldn’t control our laughter and I looked around the corner and up the stairs to see if Dax been standing there all along getting a good education. The giggling died down between us and into the quiet night. “There’s something else though.”

  “Geez Louise, does his penis recite Shakespeare or something, for heaven’s sake?”

  “You said he asked permission to—you know,” I said, navigating my explanation poorly. “Well, he—” I hesitated. Maybe Polly didn’t need to know every detail. “He doesn’t wear a condom.”

  “What do you mean? Of course you make him wear a condom, Sam.”

  We sat in silence, looking at each other, while Polly gave my statement the attention she thought it deserved. “What do you mean, Sam?” she repeated, lowering her voice.

  “I mean he doesn’t wear one.”

  Polly got off the couch and began to pace the family room. “Why would you do that, Sam? I know you aren’t on birth control.” I could see the wheels turning in her head ferociously. “Sam, I just need to say this as your friend. You can’t trust him like this so soon.”

  “I can.”

  “Well, know this,” Polly said, stopping in her tracks. “You can’t afford me if there is more than one child in this house to nanny.”

  I sat calmly on the couch, which seemed to irritate her even more. “He can’t have children, Polly.”

  “Is that what he told you?” she asked sarcastically.

  “No, well, yes.” I corrected myself. “He’s sterile. He had the mumps when he was twenty and now he can’t have any children of his own.”

  Polly sat down in her original spot on the couch. “And you’re sure about this?”

  I nodded.

  “I guess that does change everything a little bit, but not completely.”

  “It doesn’t change the way I feel about him.”

  “Does he want children?” she asked.

  “I guess so,” I said, thinking out loud. “I know the relationship between his parents had a tremendous impact on him. They loved each other—and him—very much. I think it’s hard for him, the idea that he can’t father a child.”

  �
�Why?” Polly narrowed her gaze—thinking the situation completely through for me. “He’s smart, a freaking FBI agent for God’s sake, good looking, loaded, isn’t weird or strangely attached to his mother and can’t get you pregnant. He may be the most perfect man in the world.”

  “He still lives at home,” I added, eliciting a snorted giggle from Polly.

  We dissolved into laughter, happy. I loved sharing good moments with her. God knew we’d shared plenty of sad ones.

  Polly yawned, “I’m going to bed and so should you. Someone has to wrangle a wild young man tomorrow, and I have to take care of Dax.”

  “You’re nuts,” I said. “Go to bed.”

  “I’d like to have a couple of nuts in my life, preferably attached to a big schlong.”

  I shook my head at her, speechless.

  “With a degree and a real job. Good night,” she said with a smile as she squeezed my shoulder. “And Sam?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m really happy for you. If anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you.”

  I sat in the house, all alone on the first floor. It was so quiet. I went straight to my room and turned on the shower, watching the steam roll out. As I washed the day and hot sexy evening away, I kept thinking, why does he love me? Me? With a child, in Shadeland? I washed my hair and body, thinking about making love to Mac on the boardroom table. It was so unlike me to behave that way. I’d never given so freely of myself, especially not knowing what the future would hold. Maybe Daniel’s death had made me appreciate life more in ways that I didn’t realize.

  What would Daniel think? Was I making good decisions for Dax and myself? I didn’t want to think with my head. I wanted to think with my heart.

  I got out of the shower more confused than when I got in. In one shampoo and rinse, I’d talked myself out of utter joy and true love, and into disaster.

  I slipped into a silk nightgown, liking the way it felt on my skin and slid the matching robe over top. It was the peignoir set I wore on my wedding night with Daniel. I didn’t realize I had it on until I stopped to brush my hair and caught my reflection in the mirror. I decided it was a sign.

  Walking to my bedroom, I paced the old wooden floor. With each step, the floorboards moaned. It was as if I was carrying on a conversation with the house. I needed to talk this out. But the one person I wanted to talk with the most was gone—Daniel. I wanted to tell to my old love about my new one. It would’ve sounded weird to anyone who had never lost their spouse, but Daniel and I were more than just married, we were best friends—and you tell your best friend everything.

  I pulled out a piece of stationery from Mimi’s ancient desk bureau. The old writing pens and embossed paper she left behind were a reminder of what a great lady she was—never falling behind in her correspondence. I cleared my head and my heart, and I began to write.

  Dear Daniel,

  I’ve needed you. I’ve needed you to guide me, to help me be a better parent – something we always knew you would do better than me – to keep my head screwed on straight, to help me deal with my parents. So far I’ve made it. I haven’t liked it, but I’ve learned that I’m stronger than I ever thought I could be. I’ve spent countless hours crying, wishing my life could be different. Through it all, I’ve realized you left behind the greatest gift in Dax. He is so much like you in so many ways, and yet he is totally his own person. Hopefully he’s the best part of both of us.

  Mimi says life is for the living. If that’s true, I’m only half alive since you’ve been gone. There’ve been plenty of days I felt that way too. A zombie in my own skin – the walking wounded. Only now am I beginning to feel whole, and it’s because of Mac. Daniel, he’s a good man. Honest, hardworking, a true gentleman in every sense of the word. And I’ve fallen in love with him.

  It’s unnerving to feel so much joy in my heart again, and I can’t move forward unless I feel like I have your blessing. I need your blessing to move on. Mac could be a great love of my life. I’ve recently learned you can have more than one. If you think that’s true, send me a sign. You don’t have to knock me over, but let me know you’re still around.

  I don’t know if Mac’s my second chance at love, or a fleeting glimpse of what it would be like to love again, but I need him. I need him to watch over us here on earth, the same way you watch over us from where you are.

  I know now it’s okay to say goodbye to you. I didn’t get to that day, but now I’m ready. Goodbye, Daniel. I love you.

  Sam

  I folded the sheet of thick stationery and wiped my tears away. I went downstairs in my nightgown and walked onto the front porch that surrounded the old house. I placed the papers in the pocket of my robe and walked into the garden shed to look for a shovel. I could only think of one thing to do with the words now that I’d written them, so I picked up a lilac bush scheduled to be planted the next day.

  Walking to the front of the house, I chose a spot apart from the landscaping plan and dug a hole. I kissed the letter and placed it in the cool earth. Breaking the bush free of the rough burlap, I massaged the roots with my hand and placed it in its new home. Filling in the dirt around it lovingly with my bare hands, I watered the bush and gave it a good start. I laid on the cold ground, curling my body around the freshly planted lilac. I stayed in the evening moonlight for what seemed like an eternity, coming to terms with the realities of my life. I didn’t know what was in store for me moving forward, but I felt satisfied that I’d begun to put the past behind me.

  23

  MAC

  I spent the entire night poring through the Intel sent to me from the home office. The emails were sketchy, but similar. Now that I knew they’d been traced to Samantha’s computer, I wondered who was using the open workstation or trying to frame Sam.

  Delivered-To: washington.field@ic.fbi.gov Received: by 12.90.57.7 with SMTP Thurs, 28 Feb 2013 11:53:50 -0700 (PDT) Received: from mail.anonymoustalk.com (164.46.55.5)

  Who’s minding the store at Autumn Valley in Shadeland, AL?

  Delivered-To: washington.field@ic.fbi.gov Received: by 12.90.57.7 with SMTP Thurs, 7 Mar 2013 11:45:20 -0700 (PDT) Received: from mail.anonymoustalk.com (164.46.55.5)

  Autumn Valley. What’s taking you so long? Millions are leaving.

  Delivered-To: washington.field@ic.fbi.gov Received: by 12.90.57.7 with SMTP Thurs, 14 Mar 2013 11:55:41 -0700 (PDT) Received: from mail.anonymoustalk.com (164.46.55.5)

  Autumn Valley. Do something, or I’ll do something everyone will regret.

  I was going to need some answers, and I could either get them by scaring the shit out of James Miller, who could be a flight risk, or working through Samantha for more information. I needed to nail down the Ansible Star Group and see where the money trail led. The information she’d gathered unknowingly was going to be the key to prosecution.

  “Good morning, baby,” Miss Celia chimed from the doorway of the study. It was five a.m. and I had worked through most of the night.

  “Good morning, Celia.” I mumbled, too tired to think. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “Can I get you some breakfast started?”

  “No, thank you,” I said with a sigh, my brain buzzing from the all-nighter. “I’m gonna take a little nap to get my head screwed back on straight and then I’m gonna shower and go see Momma.”

  “Is there anything I can do for you?” Miss Celia offered with genuine sympathy. “I don’t like you workin’ so late and so hard.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I said, nearly asleep in my chair. “I just need a power nap. If I put it off any longer I’ll catch a second wind and then I’ll be worthless later.”

  “I know what you mean, baby. I’ve had those kind of sinkin’ spells my whole life. It’s tough to work through ‘em when you’re really dead-dog tired.”

  “Miss Celia, thank you for everything. And when I say everything, I mean the big everythings and the small ones. I’ve missed the love I feel here, even with Dad gone.”

  “It’
s not been the same around here since your daddy went home to be with the Lord. But we still manage.”

  “I know you do.” I patted her on the back and kissed her cheek. I realized Miss Celia was the only family I would have when Momma no longer knew me.

  I stumbled into my room dazed, and closed the shutters to keep as much morning light out as possible. I allowed myself a deep breath and one command to my iPhone to wake me before immediately dozing off.

  I lay in an open field; the sweet-smelling freshly mown grass was cool beneath my hands. Above, the warm sun was bright and I could sense the heat on my body. Looking around I noticed the veranda that was the backside of Lone Oak on the horizon. I could hear laughter coming from the house. I stood and began to walk toward it. In the distance Sam walked out, dressed in white, her beautiful dress flowing behind her in the strong breeze. Dax followed her, matching his mother. I tried to reach them, but the ground under my feet felt like a treadmill. I couldn’t get any closer to the house. Confused, I stopped and watched Miss Celia join them, laughing. I opened my mouth to shout, but didn’t have a voice. I waved my arms frantically. No one noticed. A tall, dark, man in a tan suit came onto the veranda. Was that me? It looked like me. It seemed as if I was watching myself. He leaned in and lovingly touched Sam on the elbow, moving closer to kiss her on the cheek. She was so beautiful, ethereal. I picked up my frantic pace and suddenly I was running toward them. I ran to Sam and Dax as she turned to the man and smiled. I stopped in my tracks. Dad?

  I woke just in time for “Sweet Home Alabama” to starting playing on my phone. It was nine a.m. I ran my hands through my hair, wondering what the hell had just happened.

  I showered, trying my best to get the images out of my head, and picked out a black Armani suit, white shirt and red tie. Miss Celia met me in the kitchen.

  “I don’t want to bother you,” she began. “I can tell you’re in a work mode.”

  “No, Miss Celia,” I assured her. “You can always bother me. What is it?”

  “I worry about you.”

  “I’m fine, really. I just have a lot to wade through in the next couple of days. That’s all.”