by Lena North
“Are we having a meeting?” I asked.
“I asked them to come,” Hawker said, which I interpreted to mean that, yes, we were indeed having a meeting.
The beer was distributed to everyone but me and then there was a long silence.
“I fucked up,” Hawker said suddenly.
“Yes, Dad, you did,” Wilder agreed.
She spoke softly, and I realized that they weren’t joking.
“You were not the only one,” Miller said. “We all did.”
“Yes, Mill. We all did,” Wilder agreed again, and since she wasn’t usually the agreeable type I turned to stare at her.
“Not me,” Byrd said slowly, but added thoughtfully, “But I was probably the only one who didn’t.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“I wanted to go home to Sloane, but I should have listened to you,” Hawker replied.
I got what they were saying then and started to protest, but Wilder talked over me.
“I should have convinced you, Dad,” she said.
“But –”
No one listened to me.
“Wilder and I could have stayed the night,” Mac muttered, and I stared at him.
“I even offered to do just that but didn’t exactly push for it. I had other things on my mind and –” Miller cut himself off and glanced over at Kit.
“I would have stayed if I’d gone to Marshes at all,” Olly said into the silence. He was staring so hard into the fireplace that I wondered if he thought his glare alone could start a fire there. “Should have been there,” he added.
“Jesus –” I started, but they didn’t pay me any attention. They were on a guilt-trip to beat all guilt-trips, and didn’t seem willing to stop and listen.
“I lied,” Kit muttered.
That got everyone’s attention.
“I said it could be a malfunction, but I knew that there was no likelihood of that.”
They all stared at him, but I decided it was time to end their walk of shame.
“Zero point triple-zero fifteen,” I stated loudly.
“Huh?” Miller said after a stunned silence.
Mac’s face split up into a wide grin.
“You calculated it?” he asked.
“Of course,” I said, and continued before they could return to reproaching themselves, “The likelihood was minor, Kit, but it wasn’t zero. And the rest of you had other things to do. None of you knew what would happen, and that it did wasn’t logical at all.”
“Still should have trusted you,” Hawker insisted.
Miller opened his mouth and but I spoke quickly, afraid that they’d embark on another round of stupid reasons for why they should have done what they didn’t.
“Well, you didn’t. And you didn’t either,” I said and pointed to Miller. “And you could have, but you didn’t either,” I said looking at Wilder.
Then I sighed and leaned forward a little.
“It happened. It’s done. Luckily I got hit in the head by a huge tree and lost all my memories of why they wanted to capture me, so it’s over.”
“That is not a joking matter, and it was over long before that ridiculous article was published,” Hawker muttered.
Wait, what?
“What do you mean?” I asked sharply.
“Nothing,” he said.
“Hawker,” I said.
He turned his eyes toward me, and suddenly I thought I heard a low rumble. He really looked more like a wolf than a man sometimes, and I started to lean back, thinking that I’d leave them to their blame game. Then I suddenly got an image in my head of him standing on a stage in a pair of red latex briefs. I could easily envision his discomfort, and when I thought about him wiggling his butt in that outfit, I felt my lips curving.
His brows went up in surprise, and I heard a low sound from Miller that sounded like he was choking. Hawker heard it too, and he turned slowly.
“You didn’t?” he asked.
“I absolutely did,” Miller said calmly and took a deep pull from his beer.
He seemed perfectly relaxed, but his eyes were glittering with humor, making him look like a mischievous boy.
“Fuck,” Hawker grunted.
“Did what?” Wilder asked, looking curious.
“I’ll tell you later,” I said hastily because Hawker looked like he was about to explode.
“No you won’t,” he stated.
“Of course not,” I agreed sweetly.
I so would.
“Fuck,” he repeated, knowing well that I’d tell his daughter about his short-lived career as a stripper.
“How were my problems over before I got my diagnosis, Hawker,” I said, bringing us back to the previous topic.
He sighed and muttered, “You don’t have to worry about Special Agent Dickinson ever again.”
“What did you do?” I asked.
My question was met with silence.
“Does Dante know what you’ve done?” I asked.
This question was also met with a silence which I interpreted as affirmative.
“Does he approve?”
Another silence, although this one I didn’t know how to interpret. I’d talk to Dante later, I decided.
“What about the men at the lab?” I asked instead.
“No need to worry about them either,” Olly said calmly.
“You killed six men?” I shouted.
They chuckled then.
“Who said we killed them?” Mac retorted.
I thought about it for a second. Maybe there were other ways of dealing with the agents.
“Okay, Mac,” I agreed. “Maybe you didn’t. And you didn’t kill that man on the island either. You just hit his crossbow.”
Suddenly Mac was squirming a little, and my brows went up in surprise.
“Oh, him I wanted to kill,” Mac said finally. “The fucking boat was bouncing around, though, mostly because Danny drove like a madman,” he said and added with a rueful smile “Aimed for his head, both times.”
I decided to not pry deeper into his desires to kill and asked instead, “Who was it?”
“Francesco. Paolo Fratinelli’s cousin,” Wilder replied immediately.
“Really?”
“Yep,” she confirmed. “I recognized him immediately. He lives out there in the marshes somewhere. Hunts, and smuggles petty shit into the country when he can.”
“He wasn’t top of our priority, Jinx,” Hawker said. “We’ll get to him, but he’s a small-time crook, just like his cousin.”
“I’m not so sure,” I protested. “Paolo was cunning, but he was also weak. He had connections and some money, but I’m not convinced he was the grandmaster behind the plans to exploit the crystals. If you think about it, the way he was fooled by your every move was kind of stupid. I’m not sure his cousin was behind it all either, but it could actually have been Francesco doing the first break-in at the lab. It was a lone intruder that time, and someone clearly interested in the box where we keep the crystal.”
“Huh,” Hawker said, and added, “Guess we’ll put him up as a priority then.”
“Thank you,” I said sweetly, happy that he’d listened to me. “You just bought yourself a piece of Jiminella-silence with that decision.”
“Smartass,” he mumbled, but he did it grinning.
“Absolutely,” I said, but went on to ask about something that had puzzled me. “Why in the hell are they wearing those socks with the yellow line? I don’t get it. To have something that so easily would indicate that they are working for the government just seems…”
“Stupid?” Byrd snorted. “Yes, of course, it is. And believe me – I spent a lot of my time in army intelligence arguing about it.” She looked exasperated when she added, “Unsuccessfully, as you have seen.”
“They say it’s a badge of honor to be allowed to wear them,” Kit added, looking as exasperated as Byrd.
“There are many reasons for why we operate separately,” Hawk
er muttered. “This is one of them.”
“They’ve asked your group to join the army?” I asked.
“Sure. Still do, ever few years,” Hawker replied with a grin. “I say no, and not only because of their idiotic garment preferences. They’re administrative and slow. They also have to go by the book, and it’s a book I don’t always agree with, so we work with them when it’s mutually beneficial…” he wiggled his eyebrows a little, “and when it isn’t – we don’t.”
I had a strong suspicion that I didn’t want to know more about the instances when someone like Hawker would find it unnecessary to follow any kind of book, so I muttered a neutral, “Huh.”
Then we spent some more time discussing what had happened, but soon enough we moved on to other topics. Mary wasn’t there, and she’d been at Double H since I got out of the hospital, so it seemed strange that she suddenly had disappeared.
“Where did Mary go?” I asked the room in general, and everyone turned to Kit.
“Why are you looking at me? I don’t know,” he replied. “It’s anyone’s guess where she decides to spend her evenings,” he added.
Aha, I thought. Mary and Kit had been dating for a while, according to Wilder, but there seemed to be trouble in paradise.
“She has a class on Wednesday evenings,” Miller muttered.
Everyone turned their eyes from Kit to his uncle.
“Drawing,” he clarified, and when everyone kept looking at him, he continued, “They needed calm animals to use as models, so she asked me for help.”
“Help?” I asked, knowing what he’d done and wondering why she hadn’t wanted Kit to ask his bird to model.
“Gave her the contact details to a breeder I know, and she borrowed a couple of dogs,” he said.
I narrowed my eyes because I was sure he lied through his teeth.
“One of them was Joe,” he said quickly.
When he heard his name, Joe grunted and got up, tilted his head a little to the side and looked around in the room with a surprised expression on his face. “Huh? Someone said my name?” he seemed to think, and everyone burst out laughing.
My eyes met Miller’s, but since I couldn't interpret the look on his face, I just smiled at him.
***
I’d been to my condo to pick up some more things that I wanted to bring to Marshes, and had been stunned when I got there. During the hour I’d been busy with the interview, Dante had managed to put most of it back to order, and it still needed a good cleaning, but it didn’t look like a tornado had gone through it anymore. It felt strange to walk through the door because it was home, but it also wasn’t. Before I got to work, I sat a while on the couch like I had done so many times before, and looked out through the window. I knew without a doubt that whatever happened, I’d never move back to that condo, and ended up packing more than I’d planned.
Dante, Mrs. C, and Daniele, accompanied by his whole family, came to Double H the day before I was supposed to move back to Marshes. They pretended to be there to pick up my things, but I suspected that it was mostly because they were curious to see Double H or wanted to meet my friends. Either reason was fine with me, and I sat with Wilder and the boys on the lawn most of the morning, giggling and playing silly games.
After a long lunch, Wilder, Mickey, and Olly left us with our coffee on the back porch, and the boys ran off to play with Joe in the garden. His wounds hadn’t healed fully, but they looked much better, so I’d decided that he didn’t need the cone anymore. The boys were told to be gentle with him, and to my surprise, the usually so boisterous boys were adjusting their games so it’d work for my injured hero.
Then I sighed, because I had things to say, and I worried about how they’d react.
“I’m not sure it’s good if I come back to Marshes,” I said, and they turned to me in surprise. “I brought danger to the village. It’s risky to have me there, and you’ve given me so much –”
“Oh, for Christs sakes, when are you going to stop flogging yourself?” Danny barked so angrily I reared back a little.
“What?”
“You’ve talked one too many times about what we’ve given you, and you need to stop,” he replied.
“Whining isn’t becoming, Jiminella,” Mrs. C chimed in.
“What?”
Dante took hold of my hand, and I heard him murmur my name softly in my head, but my eyes were locked with Danny’s. He was beyond furious in a way I hadn’t thought he was capable of.
“You want to count favors? Calculate checks and balances?” he growled and leaned forward.
I started to protest, but he talked right over me.
“Okay, Jiminella, I’ll play. You saved my life,” he began, and I made a sound, but he put a hand up toward my face and kept talking, “Yes you did, and you know it.” Then he continued to count on his fingers, “Our dressmaker is starting up production to sell to Crazy’s. Your dad has started selling Tony’s wood carvings, and they fly out of his hands so fast Tony will not be guarding the gate anymore. He’s also setting up a wood carving class, and it was meant for your dad, but there’s apparently a whole bunch of other dudes like him. They’ve seen Tony’s work and realized that they have things to learn. Roberto sold another small gadget to a manufacturer in Twin City, and the rodent devices are selling faster than we can produce, so we’ll have to rebuild the outhouse we make them in.”
I stared at him with my mouth open.
He glared at me and snorted, “They have started calling it the factory in the village, and it’s a joke but is also isn’t.”
“But I didn’t do any of that,” I protested.
“Yes you did,” he insisted.
“But, no? Dante is organizing most of it, and you too Danny, and they all work hard. I only threw out some ideas.”
He made a frustrated sound and Dante squeezed my hand, but he didn’t say anything. He just looked at us with a weird smile on his lips. Then Danny continued, in a voice that had softened.
“You still don’t get it. You gave the people in Marshes hope. We were locked into a reality where we were declining. Most of the younger people leave, the men go into the army and the women to Prosper or abroad. And then you came with your haunted eyes and enormous brain, and you immediately believed in the village. From the start, it was completely natural to you that all the things you suggested could be done. And they could.”
“Do you know what happened in the past week?” Anetta asked, and didn’t hesitate to let me know. “My sister has started to sell her bread in the other villages along the coast, and her husband delivers it each morning. Two of the men started creating cutting boards, coasters, and other things from wood they take out of the ocean. Not fancy stuff like Tony. Simple, but sawed up nicely, sanded down and oiled. They’re a silvery gray, and they look amazing. They have an order already, from a fancy design store in Treville, with branches in both Prosper and Twin City.
“Silverwood,” I murmured, remembering their history and thinking that I absolutely had to get a copy of the old books to Dante and Danny.
“What?”
“They should make a branding iron, Danny, like the ones they use on the cattle here. They could brand their products. Silverwood.”
“See. No hesitation. No limitations. You believe we can do anything. That’s hope, Jiminella.”
“But –”
“It’s more than that,” Mrs. C whispered.
“Yeah,” Danny agreed quietly. “It is.”
This discussion had not in any way gone the way I expected, so I kept my mouth shut and waited.
“That doctor, he called you a national treasure, and I know you don’t like that, Jiminella, but you know a lot of people think highly of your accomplishments. But you came to us looking like a ghost and seeing you get better… Seeing you laugh and dance, and play with your dog. Seeing you with Dante. It has given a lot of people a sense of pride we haven’t had in a long time. Because all the rich and educated people in Prosper – the
y couldn’t do that. But we could, and we did.”
Oh, God. My eyes were suddenly burning with tears, and I couldn’t hold them back. They rolled slowly down my cheeks, and I sniffled.
“Can we agree that we’re even, and forget about this ridiculous idea of yours to not come back to Marshes?” Danny asked gently.
“Okay,” I agreed, trying and failing to smile back at him.
Then Daniele’s oldest son caught sight of my face and came running. With a determined look, he put both his small hands on my cheeks and said, a little too loudly, “Happy.”
I smiled at him, and confirmed, “Happy.”
The boy still wasn’t convinced, so he shook my head slightly. Dante moved, but I stretched an arm out to stop him, and then I wrapped it around Happy, pulling him into my arms. I tickled him, and he tickled me right back. It made my head hurt a little, but it also made me laugh, and it wasn’t in any way fake so when I giggled, “Happy,” the boy answered like he always did.
“I know!”
They left shortly after that, but Dante stayed behind. He’d spend the night and then drive me to the hospital for a check-up. If everything looked fine, I’d be back in Marshes by lunchtime.
As we walked up the steps to the front porch, I looked at him.
“They exaggerated,” I told him.
“Not really,” he replied.
“But –”
“I can’t really move anywhere,” he said.
“I know,” I said, wondering why he thought I didn’t understand that.
“So you can’t either,” he continued, and when he saw that I wanted to question what he said, he pulled my hand up, kissed it and wiggled the ring a little.
“Dante, I’m not –”
“Come here,” he said, pulled me over to the couch and straight into his lap.
He was warm and strong, and when he settled us into the soft pillows, I felt his muscles move under his shirt.
“You said that you love me,” he said quietly.
“Yes,” I replied because I did and I’d told him, so there was no use denying it.
“I love you too, Nellie,” he murmured.
My heart jumped, and I leaned my head back into his arm to look at him. He smiled a little and kissed me softly.
