Gabriel got to his feet, excited to get moving, but looking behind her for luggage. She’d traveled lightly as he had, with nothing more than an overnight bag. This would alter the budget greatly if they needed to buy clothing.
“You are traveling lightly. We may need to stop and buy more clothing,” he said.
“I was thinking,” she said, looking into those same brown eyes that touched her ability to hold a clear thought in her head, “what if we buy a small bottle of detergent, collect a tee shirt from every eatery we stop at, wash them at the hotel, and the next day, we wear our tees from the last stop. I have leggings and another pair of jeans, so we can get through without spending too much money.”
He offered her a grin that made her nipples tingle, her pupils dilate, and stars dance around her head. My husband. He is mine.
“That, my beautiful babe, is a wonderful idea! I am thinking we can stop at the Petrified Forest on our way or stop for lunch in Flagstaff and roll hard to get into Albuquerque tonight,” he said.
“Or, we can take out time, stop when we see something of interest, drive to the New Mexico border, and hit Albuquerque in the morning. There are a few shops I would like to visit that I read about,” she told him.
“Works for me,” he said. “Are we ready?”
“Yep, we need to get to the rental car place and select a vehicle. I was thinking a compact,” she said.
“Already ahead of you, but I am not spending a week in a compact car,” he said, jangling a set of keys. Out front was a mid-sized blue SUV. He pressed the keypad on the starter, and the lights flashed.
“You have the vehicle already?” she said, surprised.
“Government rate and they delivered while I was showering,” he said, taking her overnight bag and offering her his arm. “Let’s ride, Cinderella.”
She didn’t move, but stood still, staring at the SUV. I am actually doing this. We are actually doing this.
“Come on, Wifey,” he said.
“We are actually doing this,” she repeated out loud.
“Yes,” he said, taking her by the hand. “Our honeymoon begins now.”
Chapter 4 – Georgia or Bust
Gabriel loaded her overnight bag in the rear of the vehicle, reaching inside of the back seat to pull out a piece of cardboard. Grinning, he showed the sign to her which read “Georgia or Bust!”
“I love it,” she said, looking at the goofy large letters. Her new husband signaled the bellhop, dragging him out the door to snap a photo of the two of them standing beside the vehicle holding the sign. Gabriel’s arm draped lazily over her shoulder as he held one corner of the sign and her the other. The happy couple smiled for the camera as several shots were taken before they hit the road.
“Ready to roll, Navigator?”
“Let’s do it,” she replied, climbing into the passenger seat. Gabriel handed her the map as he started the vehicle, leaving the Las Vegas strip in their rear-view mirror. “Do we want tunes or conversation?”
“I don’t know what your musical preferences are, but I tend to lean toward classical music,” he said to her.
“Not me. I am a lover of 90s music and boy bands, you know, “Tearin’ Up My Heart,” 98 Degrees, Boyz II Men, and the likes,” she said cheerfully.
“Don’t make me pull this vehicle over, young lady, and put you out,” he said with a straight face.
“Well, it beats listening to Vivaldi’s Concerto in B-flat major as performed by the Boston Philharmonic any day,” she said to him.
“I will have you know that the Boston Philharmonic is fantastic, and I don’t care for Vivaldi,” he told her, switching lanes. He watched her pull out her phone to activate the navigational program. “Babe, I don’t really like to use GPS, so if you would give me a direction on that map, it would be a big help.”
“We are doing great. We are heading South on the I-515 connecting to Hwy 93, and we ride that all the way into Flagstaff. We should arrive around lunchtime. Should I scout out a place for lunch or do you have something in mind?”
“Yes, there is this little place in Flagstaff called Oregano’s Pizza Bistro and in Albuquerque named Cheba Hut. I don’t know what it is, but I want to try it. It’s light, not too heavy, and I know we can get swag there,” he said keeping his eyes on the road.
He was a handsome devil in an ordained ministers cloak. Gabriel Neary was a bit of a mystery to her as well, but she didn’t understand the whole ordained minister aspect of his life. That portion, Cabrina wanted clarification on about his world, how he made a living for the CIA and all the points in between.
“Gabe, you did your research on me, but I am at a disadvantage on you. Tell me about your life as an ordained minister, how you came to work for the CIA, and your vision for our life together,” Cabrina said. The conversation alone could easily take up four hours of the journey.
“Okay, I have a Th.D. in Theology from Duke’s School of Divinity. I did my undergrad work there as well,” he told her.
“A Th.D.?”
“Yes, it is like a Ph.D., but instead of being in philosophy, it is in Theology. My graduate degree is in divinity and at one point, I fancied myself going into the ministry. However, my soul may be strong, but my flesh is weak. I didn’t want to be a total hypocrite, but I love what I do,” he told her, setting the cruise control.
“I never wanted to ask before, but what do you do for the Agency? I mean, since I’m your wife, you will need to tell me the basics in case I need to call you at the office to bring home eggs, milk, and bread,” she said.
“No need,” he said offering her a smile. “Eggs are in the backyard.”
“What? Please tell me you don’t live on a farm with milk cows and solar panels and veggies growing in the sunny spot near the chicken coops!”
“I do,” he said, glancing over at her. “The house I live in is over 150 years old. It is a stone house built by my great grandfather out of really big rocks that came off the land he was cultivating to grow crops for his family. My mother grew up in the house and now it’s mine.”
Cabrina felt her stomach roil. After all the talk she made and the crap she’d handed to Aisha, now she was going to be the one living on a farm and using a composting toilet after shitting for thirty minutes from a whole grain green diet. She stared out the front window, trying to wrap her mind around his words.
“Babe? You okay?”
“Yeah, I will be. It’s just funny that I gave Ais...I mean Tameka, such a hard time about the same thing, and now I get to live on a farm,” she said.
“Honestly, I think you are going to love the simplicity of the life. My office is downstairs and the one room that is off limits to you. Other than that, you have free reign to decorate and do whatever you like. I have remodeled most of it with modern amenities and features, but the master bedroom has yet to be touched,” he offered.
She couldn’t hide her surprise, “You work from home? What kind of CIA operation happens from your home in Elyria, Ohio?”
“My specialty is cults and hive minds,” he said. “There are a great number of right-wing militia groups ensconced in the Amish communities. Because the Amish are closed to the public and don’t interact with the “English” as they call us, groups are able to infiltrate the community, buy land, and stockpile items they feel are necessary to fight against the government.”
“You are a watchdog,” she said.
“I am,” he told her. “I am a scholar of religious practices and norms. The minister portion is because I have to speak the language of the church, in which I am completely versed in Pennsylvanian Dutch and German.”
“Wow. I am impressed,” she said. “Do you have to go undercover?”
“No, my current living arrangement is my cover. My job is to keep an eye on the groups from Ashtabula to Defiance and partially the way down to Columbus. The bottom half of the state is handled by someone else, but my code name is Buckeye,” he said.
“Gabe, you must really enjoy
your work,” she said softly. “I stopped liking what I do years ago, but it is a family business. I have to work the family business.”
“So do I, so to speak. My dad is FBI, Zeke is Secret Service, and Isiah is ATF,” he told her. “My graduate thesis on The Hive Mind as A Religious Unifier in Mental Subversion is what brought the CIA to my doorstep. They never left. The house was already there and empty and it made the perfect cover. My mom gave me the deed and I moved in about six years ago, growing crops, marrying the wayward Amish runaways while surveilling a few groups which have tripled in size in the last two years.”
“That thesis is a mouthful and I know there is a story behind it,” she said, pointing to the connector for Highway 93. They were making excellent time and her stomach had started to grumble. She had a couple of apples in her bag, and she handed one to him. She took a crunchy bite out of the one she had as she listened to her husband.
“In my teens, a good friend’s family joined one of those religious groups, and he changed, Cabrina. The happy-go-lucky kid I played video games with was gone, replaced by an automaton who spouted religious doctrine. I couldn’t believe it and I became kind of obsessed with religion and hive mentality, which is what started my quest for knowledge. It’s also what earned me a scholarship for Divinity School,” he said.
“I hope you were able to help your friend and his family,” she said touching his arm.
“We did, but it took everyone in our church, my dad, and a few others to get them out,” he said. “The saving grace was that the age of consent for Virginia is 18, whereas, in Ohio, it’s only sixteen. We took down the good Reverend William Bodek that way on statutory. Loads of these organizations move to Ohio to hide in plain sight, but the truth is, they are just a bunch of pedophiles, tending their own flocks of pre-prepped victims who won’t talk.”
Gabriel took a bite of the apple. He looked over at his lovely wife with her long black hair in ringlets. The life she led was simple, regimented and structured. Living with him would be different.
“Enough talk about me, tell me more about you,” he said to her.
“Not much to tell,” she said. “I’m an only child. I grew up in Cleveland. Ais...Tameka moved in with us when I was 16, and we have lived together ever since...well until she left for Georgia. My parents are insurance people. I have degrees in finance, and I manage annuities and burial policies for the company.”
“You hate it don’t you?”
“Like a cold sore on my lip in winter,” she said, laughing.
“Tell me, Cabrina, what would you like to do with your life, career, or work goals moving forward,” Gabriel asked.
Blushing, she told him something very few people knew. “I have a very large Etsy shop online where I sell scrapbook kits and recently, with the boom in personal planners, I have been making planning kits,” she said, waiting for his criticism.
“Cool, you have a cutting machine, large printers, and the like?”
“I have two printers, but I really need to invest in a large color printer. I have more orders than I can handle during Christmas and Valentine’s, but I make a nice chunk of change from it,” she said.
“I have a floor-sized color printer at the house,” he volunteered.
“Oh really!” She exclaimed, trying to tamp down her excitement.
“Yes, there is a formal dining room that can easily be converted to a home office, for you and I can build some shelves to store the kits you make and create a shipping station for mailing out packages,” he told her.
Cabrina’s eyes began to water. When she’d told DeShondra about her business idea, there was very little support. Aisha helped her on the weekends to fill orders and sometimes took packages to the post office, but this was the first time anyone had offered to help her with expanding the operation.
Gabriel noted the silence. “Babe, you okay?”
“Of course, it is refreshing to have someone offer me some help in expanding my business. Most people kind of laugh at me, but I sell pre-made scrapbooks by the dozens, especially the bridal and vacation ones,” she said to him.
“Price point?” He was curious about what she could make just with her hands and creativity.
“Pre-made themed ones can run about $125. A custom one that I make from people’s photos can be up to $250,” she said. “I sell pre-made scrapbook kits for $20.00, which include two pages and cut-outs templates to add the photos.”
Gabriel gave her his full attention.
“Is this something you would enjoy doing full time?”
“Would I ever? That would be just amazing,” she said, grinning. “I would love to offer monthly scrapping sessions, classes, low-cost workshops, and even a planner meet-up monthly session.”
“I have an unused outbuilding which sits on the front of the property. My granddad used it as a market to sell his veggies that he grew and my Grandma’s jams,” he said. “It will take a bit of work, but it can be updated to be a store and a facility for your classes and sessions. Don’t quote me, but I think the building may be 800 or 1,000 square feet. Will that work?”
“Yes,” she said, her eyes brimming with tears.
“Why are you crying?”
“Because...I’m silly,” she said.
“Cabrina, I have every intention of making this marriage work for both of us, and if that is what you need as a start to make you happy, you will have it,” he said, taking her hand.
“This is a very nice start,” she said. “What about you, Gabriel? Share with me your list of requirements for your happily ever after.”
His list was short. He’d been self-sufficient for so long that he cooked for himself, cleaned for himself, and looked after everything but his own sexual needs, which often showed up on his doorstep uninvited. However, he never allowed them to stay or share his bed.
“No profanity as it would be beneath you and would blow my cover. By all accounts, you are now a minister’s wife and bringing me back to the straight and narrow. All I ask is that you treat me fairly, with love and respect,” he said to her.
“Husband, you are not asking for much,” she said. “I can do that, but is there anything else I need to know?”
“My office is off limits. Don’t come in, don’t get curious, and stay out of it. It will compromise everything I do for the agency,” he said. “I come out for lunch and do rotating shifts between days and nights with Hayseed, the other Ohio operative, who has the lower half of the state.”
One thing was bothering her and now it became a red flag. Her chest began to feel tight as she played with the words which dangled from the corner of her lips like a bad serving of fish. Cabrina didn’t want to ask but she had to know.
“Gabriel, did you marry me as a cover for your undercover operation?” she said, feeling the knot form in the pit of her stomach.
“Yes and no,” he said. “My fleshly desires were taking a front seat to my job and it needed to stop. A wife stops the cycle I found myself being sucked into, and you lit a spark in me. In your eyes, I saw that same aloneness that stares back at me in the mirror every day. I recognized it and thought we could be wonderful for each other.”
Aloneness.
That was the same phrasing she had used this morning to describe her life before getting married last night to Gabriel.
“Husband, we are not alone anymore,” she said. “I look forward to being your wife.”
“Four,” he said randomly. “The preference would be five as a tiebreaker.”
“Five what?” she asked, her eyes wide as if she didn’t know what he meant, hoping he was referring to chickens.
“Kids,” he said. “There were just three of us and being stuck in the middle was horrible. I wanted another brother or even a sister to add some balance to our life, but it was just us three boys and a bunch of knucklehead cousins.”
“As an only child, I gave some thought to more than one, but five, we will have to talk about it,” she said.
“Just
letting you know where I stand up front, and nothing has to be in concrete, but I would love a big family with you,” he said. “A pretty little girl with your eyes and jet-black hair would be amazing, along with a few little peasy-headed boys.”
“No time soon I hope,” she said.
“In a few years,” he said. “I have a boatload of vacation time I need to use, and I want a few years of us getting into a rhythm. I still have a job to do for my country.”
“I hear you,” she said, watching the city of Flagstaff come into view. Four hours had sped by quickly, just in conversation with him, and she’d learned a great deal. More importantly, she knew she was his cover for the government operation portion of his job and she didn’t care.
At this point, she was willing to cover Gabriel Neary in anything he needed, day or night.
Chapter 5 – Capturing the Moments
The four hours and thirty-six-minute drive to Flagstaff from Las Vegas went like a charm, and they rolled into the outdoorsman’s paradise on empty. Cabrina’s stomach growled like a hungry bear, making Gabriel ask if it was safe to get close to her. He could get as close as he wanted but she required food.
Navigating them to Oregano’s for lunch, Cabrina was hungry enough to eat the platter, the edges of the pizza crust, and nibble on the drinking glass. The apple had hit her stomach like a ball of breadcrumbs, leaving a trail for the hunger bugs to nosh on until the real food arrived. The idea struck her that maybe if she had eaten a real breakfast, she wouldn’t be this ravenous. She only prayed she didn’t stick her face in the plate and eat the food without the use of her hands as they entered the over-decorated pizza joint.
“Welcome! Are you members of or Kaboom Club?” The perky chested waitress asked Gabriel, intentionally moving her attention away from Cabrina.
“We are not,” Cabrina said. “We would like a table for two please for lunch.”
“Booth or table?” The girl asked, giving Gabriel googly eyes.
Buckeye and the Babe Page 4
