Hope and Honor

by Marilee Brothers

  She brightens. “Maybe we can come live with you.”

  “I would love that.”

  We munch on crackers and drink our juice.

  I point at the ceiling. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about the beautiful mural. Did your papa paint the moon and stars?”

  Both twins nod solemnly.

  “It’s beautiful,” I say.

  A tear rolls down Kimber’s cheek. “We miss Papa.”

  I put my arms around both kids and pull them close. “Remember when I told you I have a twin?”

  Kimber nods.

  “I miss her very much. She died when we were about your age.”

  I wrap my hand around the twin heart necklace. “When I touch this, it keeps her in my heart.” I think for a moment. “I have an idea.”

  “What?” Gunner says.

  “How about this? I’ll take a picture of the beautiful ceiling your Papa painted. When I go home, I’ll print out two pictures, one for each of you. That way, you’ll always have your Papa with you.”

  Kimber drops Blossom Bunny on the floor and claps her hands.

  Gunner pumps a fist in the air. “Yes!’

  I grope around in my pocket for my cell phone before it dawns on me. As always, Chad took my phone when we came to New Dawn. Well, damn.

  I walk to the window and peer out. Chad’s sitting on the front porch steps.

  I fling the door open. “Hey buddy, I need my phone to take pictures for the kids.”

  “No can do,” he says, shaking his head. “I got chewed out big time when you went on your little stroll and couldn’t find you.”

  I try my intimidating glare and he caves a little.

  “I guess I could take the pictures,” he says, “And send them to your phone after we leave.”

  I scamper onto the porch and give him a hug. “Chad, you’re the best! Thanks.”

  His face turns bright red. “Whatta ya want me to shoot?”

  He takes a bunch of photos, including one of the twins gazing up at the ceiling. After I thank him again, he steps outside and closes the door.

  Kimber unzips one of Blossom Bunny’s ears and pulls out a pen. “This was Papa’s pen. I keep it here to remember him.”

  Gunner says, “And I wear camo stuff like Papa.”

  This time, I clap my hands. “Very good!”

  It’s time for me to go. I kiss the kids goodbye.

  When my hand is on the doorknob, I hear Anna say, “Mel.”

  I turn as she emerges from her private quarters. She hurries across the room and presses a folded scrap of paper into my hand.

  “Call me later.” She turns and herds the twins from the room.

  “Wait,” I call, but the door closes behind her.

  I slam a palm against my forehead in frustration. This place is giving me a major headache, as well as high anxiety. The last New Dawn person to give me his phone number died shortly after. The secretive manner in which Anna slipped me the note makes me wonder if Chad has been assigned to spy on her. I briefly consider tormenting him again to see if I can get at the truth, but abandon the idea. His fear and respect for Hitchcock far outweigh anything I’m capable of.

  When I climb in the truck, Chad tells me, “The boss wants to see you before we go.”

  “Why?”

  Chad shrugs. “He didn’t tell me.”

  Irritated, I glance at the time. Billy plans to pick me up at six. It’s now after four. After another conversation with Hitchcock and the one-hour plus drive to 3 Peaks, I’ll be lucky if I have time to jump in the shower. And now, Anna’s phone number is burning a hole in my pocket.

  I assume we’re heading for Hitchcock’s office, but Chad drives to the range. It’s busy today with at least ten people blasting away at paper targets. He stops next to a small building with dark-tinted windows.

  “He’s inside. I’ll wait here for you. Got anymore of them crackers?”

  I hand him the box. “They’re all yours.”

  I walk to the building, grip the doorknob and pull. It flies open and my body slams into the man who’s exiting. We both step back and mutter, “Sorry.”

  Then, we make eye contact. I’m looking into the dark, evil soul of the last person I expect to see at New Dawn. Paul Moen is blocking the doorway and he’s carrying a gun.

  “Why are you here?” he growls.

  “Why are you here?” I retort.

  We’re at a stalemate. Neither of us budges, not even an inch. Instead, we engage in a game of who will be the first to look away. Not to be outdone, I refuse to blink.

  Hitchcock’s mirthless chuckle breaks the spell. “I see you two know each other.”

  He claps a hand on Moen’s shoulder and maneuvers him to one side. “Come in, Mel. This is a hostility free zone.”

  I know he’s attempting to make a joke. It’s not working. “Chad said you wanted to see me.”

  “In a minute. First tell me what’s going on between you two. Relationship problems?”

  “Trust me,” I say. “I do not have a relationship with this man, but we do have a problem. I’d prefer he doesn’t have contact with a teenage girl I’m fond of.”

  Moen sneers at me. “She sure the hell isn’t fond of you.”

  “I don’t want to be her best friend. I’m trying to keep her out of trouble.”

  “Where’s your big beaner friend? Busy beating up innocent people?”

  “I believe the big beaner you’re referring to is my Uncle Paco, and he never beats up innocent people.” I pull out my cell phone. “I’ve got him on speed dial. Any messages?”

  Hatred spews from his soul. “I can think of a few.”

  He moves toward the exit, bumping his shoulder into mine a little harder than necessary. I stagger back a couple of steps to regain my balance.

  When the door slams behind him, I turn to Hitchcock. “What’s his story?”

  “He bought a gun from us, passed the background check and has a concealed carry permit. He comes to the range to practice. Nothing more. I could ask you the same thing.”

  “Personal stuff I probably shouldn’t share. Let’s just say we’re not close friends.” I wait a beat, before asking, “What did you want to see me about?”

  “Now that you’ve spent time with us, I hope I can convince you to change your mind.”

  “About what?”

  He winks at me. It feels weird, almost flirtatious.

  “You’ve been extremely helpful. I’d like to offer you a permanent position. Naturally, you’d have to move to New Dawn.”

  I so want to roll my eyes. It takes every ounce of self-control to stop myself. “Okay, lets spell it out. You’re offering me a full time position, which means I move to New Dawn, give up all control over my life and work for no pay and the common good. Sounds a little like communism to me.”

  He shakes a finger at me. “There it is again, the bad attitude. Obviously, I would not expect you to work for nothing. And then, you should consider the twins.”

  I brace myself. “What about them?

  “Under the right circumstances, they could live with you.”

  “I thought you had an adoptive family lined up.”

  He strokes his chin. “Naturally, I want the twins to live with a traditional family. We have a number of single men at New Dawn in need of a wife.”

  He pauses and checks my body like he’s buying a prize heifer.

  I take a deep breath to keep from blurting something obscene and therefore, inappropriate. “I appreciate the offer. I’ll think it over.” I won’t, of course, but if it will buy me a bit more time with the kids, I’ll fake it.

  He pats my cheek and gives me a benevolent smile. “Very good. I’ll call you soon.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  When I get home, it’s five-thirty. Before I jump in the shower, I text Billy and ask if he’ll give me an extra half hour.

  My hair is still wet when he raps on the door. When I open it, the first thing I see is the bouquet
of crimson roses in his right hand. The second thing I see is his smile. The third thing is idling in the driveway, a long black stretch limo. After factoring in the visuals, I look into his soul. Stunned, I’m unable to speak.

  Billy’s brows draw together. “You okay, Minnie?”

  “Beautiful, “ I whisper.

  He lifts the bouquet. “I’m glad you like them.”

  The roses are gorgeous, but the flowers are not what took my breath away. “Come in, I’ll find a vase.”

  He trails me into the kitchen. “You look nice. I haven’t seen you dressed up since Paco and Aida’s wedding.

  The memory of their bizarre wedding in the back of an eighteen-wheeler and my hideous bridesmaid dress makes me smile. “Thanks. You look nice too.”

  Actually I do feel pretty in my deep blue glittery top, snug-fitting black pants and strappy heels.

  Billy fills the vase with water, inserts the roses and then, cups my face in his palms and presses his forehead against mine. “You saw something in my soul. What was it?”

  His comment surprises me. At one time, my soul reading ability was a hot button issue between us. His soul churned with emotions caused by PTSD. Crippled by psychic pain, he didn’t want me to think he was weak. It resulted in the incident that led to our break-up. Those negative emotions are no longer present in his soul, but I’m not ready to admit, even to myself, what I’m now seeing.

  I place my hands over his. “I see something wonderful, Billy. I can’t really put it into words. When I figure it out, I’ll let you know.”

  He pulls away and cocks his head to one side, his typical posture when expressing doubt. “You’re the boss. Let me know when you’re ready to tell me.”

  Now, I’m the one who looks away. “Okay.”

  He takes my hand and leads me to the door. “I’ve got a surprise for you in the limo.”

  “You really jumped into this wooing thing with both feet.”

  “You’d better believe it, baby.”

  The surprise turns out to be Kendra and her hubby, Craig. Typical Kendra, she doesn’t hide behind the dark-tinted windows, but bursts from the limo, clatters down the sidewalk in high heels and pulls me into a bear hug.

  “Isn’t this fun?” she exclaims, patting her hair back in place. “I get a few kid-free hours, dinner out and time with my bestie. Hard to beat.” She drags me to the limo where I greet Craig who smooches me on the cheek.

  Wedged between Kendra and Billy, I ask, “Where are we going?”

  Kendra grabs my hand and squeezes. “Adele’s. Do you know how hard it is to get a table at Adele’s?”

  I admit I do not, since the majority of my days are spent in a sports bar.

  Billy thumps his chest. “Chalk it up to my manly charm. Adele took one look at me, batted her fake eyelashes and said, ‘Whatever you want, big boy.’ ”

  “Oh, please,” I say.

  Craig chuckles and Kendra says, “Yeah, you’re great at charming eighty-year-old women.”

  “Hey,” Billy protests. “She’s not a day over seventy-five.”

  The limo pulls up in front of a charming bungalow, painted sage green with white trim. A broad sidewalk lined with manicured shrubs leads to the double front doors. A white picket fence surrounds the property. Round flowerbeds filled with daffodils and tulips add a touch of color.

  “Excellent example of Craftsman architecture,” Craig announces.

  Kendra and I exchange a quizzical look.

  “Enlighten us,” Billy says.

  We exit the limo and Craig points out various features. “Craftsman homes are usually constructed of wood siding and brick, and feature low, gabled roofs and broad front porches. Check out the dormer windows. Wow, they’re six over one.”

  I’ve never known Craig to be so eloquent and enthusiastic. Obediently, we look at the windows in the upper story of the bungalow.

  “They’re called six over one,” he says, “because the upper sash has six panes and the lower, just one. It’s the sign of a true Craftsman.”

  Kendra takes his arm. “Okay Mr. Architectural Digest, it’s time to eat.”

  The inside of the bungalow is just as charming. Dramatic dark red walls. A curved bar. Glowing lantern lights on each table. A menu priced way over my budget. More than likely, it’s over Billy’s budget too.

  “I’m not that hungry,” I say. “An appetizer will be fine.”

  In typical Billy fashion, he takes the comment as a challenge. “Fine. I’ll order for the both of us.”

  Kendra and Craig are thoroughly enjoying our verbal sparring. Kendra doesn’t say a word—highly unusual—and smiles at Craig, making me wonder if he’s kicking her under the table.

  The champagne arrives with a flourish. FYI, after working in a bar and seeing too many drunken fools, I usually stick to cranberry juice. Not tonight. It would be crass to refuse, since champagne is obviously an integral part of the wooing process. Naturally, the delightful bubbly goes right to my head. I begin to jabber like my tongue is tied in the middle and flapping at both ends, my mother’s favorite saying about people who talk too much. Billy looks amused.

  Over the entrees, blackened scallops with onion and pepper polenta as well as braised short ribs, I blurt, “I saw Paul Moen today. He hates my guts.”

  Kendra says, “Who’s Paul Moen?”

  Billy sets his fork down. “How could anybody hate your guts?”

  “Apparently, he does.”

  “I heard you and Paco paid him a visit.”

  I frown at him. “And you know this…how?”

  “A buddy of mine was in the same building where Moen has his office. He saw you and Paco go inside and heard a big commotion.”

  I sigh. “Is nothing secret in this town?”

  Billy laughs. “I hope you scared the shit out of him.”

  “We did, but now he’s got a gun. He goes to the shooting range at New Dawn. When he pulls the trigger, he’s probably thinking about me.”

  Kendra gives me a goofy, drunken grin. “Maybe we need to go undercover again.”

  Craig and Billy say together. “No way.”

  My brain is still loopy. My tongue is still flapping. “Hitchcock wants me to move to New Dawn and hook up with some camo-clad guy so we can adopt the twins.”

  A long, stunned silence follows.

  Finally, Billy says, “And your answer?”

  “I didn’t say yes and I didn’t say no. Naturally, I have no intention of moving to New Dawn. But if I flat out refused, Hitchcock would make sure I never see the kids again.” I take a shaky breath and feel hot tears sting my eyes. “And that’s not okay with me.”

  Billy is not pleased. “So now, Paul Moen enters the picture.”

  Kendra says, “Maybe you should take a break from New Dawn.”

  Craig nods.

  I swipe at my tears and grip the edge of the table. They don’t understand. “I have to see the twins. They need me.”

  My weepy confession pretty much puts a damper on the evening.

  Back in the limo, Billy puts his arm around me and pulls me close. He whispers, “I worry about you, Minnie. You wear your heart on your sleeve.”

  I look up into his clear, hazel eyes and know the love he has for me is real. I’ve been in deep denial, trying to convince myself it’s just a fleeting emotion. It’s not. Several months ago, I asked Steve what romantic love looks like in the soul. He said, Like a deep crimson rose in full bloom. At first, it drifts across the soul, never touching down. In a committed relationship, it’s in a fixed position and takes on a golden hue as if touched by a beautiful sunset. Tonight, when I looked into Billy’s soul, I saw the deep red rose tinged with gold. It’s uppermost in his soul and in a fixed position.

  Feeling safe and in peace, I snuggle into his chest and doze off.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  When the limo stops in front of my place, I jerk awake, rising up suddenly and striking Billy’s chin with the top of my head. “Oops, so sorry.”<
br />
  He chuckles. “No problem. It brings back an excellent memory.”

  I know exactly what he’s talking about. The first time we made love, we engaged in a mock sparring contest in which I bounced to my feet, struck his chin and practically knocked him out. I snicker at the memory. “Turned out okay though.”

  “Until I screwed it up.”

  I snuggle closer. “We don’t have to live in the past.”

  The limo driver opens the door.

  Kendra says, “Want us to leave you here, Billy?”

  He shakes his head. “Not part of the wooing plan. I’ll walk her to the door.”

  Yes, part of me is disappointed. But, God forbid, I should interfere with Billy’s wooing protocol. Kendra and Craig find this hilarious. Their laughter trails behind us like musical footsteps, as Billy takes me to the door. He drops a chaste kiss on my forehead.

  “Oh, come on,” I say. “You can do better than that.”

  And he does, leaving me on shaky legs and weak with longing.

  I have no pride. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in?”

  His expression is fierce and proud. “Yes, I want to come in and show you how much I love you, but I’ll save it for another time.”

  Our gazes meet and I nod. “Okay, another time.”

  He spins around and jogs to the limo, like he’s afraid if he looks back, he’ll change his mind.

  After I change into comfy clothes, I spot the scrap of paper with Anna’s phone number. I check the time. Not quite ten. I dither a while. Is it too late to call? Maybe, like high security prisons, they have a lights out curfew at New Dawn. I decide to risk it and punch in her number.

  She answers on the first ring with a tentative, “Hello?”

  “Hi Anna, it’s Mel.”

  Utter silence. It makes me wonder if she’s alone.

  “Anna? Are you there?”

  “Yeah, hang on a sec.”

  Hmm, is Anna entertaining a rugged outdoorsman wearing camouflage jammies? My imagination begins to run wild. Settle down, Mel.

  I hear a rustling sound and footsteps. A door opens and closes.

  “There’s something you need to know,” she says. “Hitchcock has plans for the twins.”