Jessica knelt to pick up the stack of papers. “You used to say the same thing about the parallel bars, Mom.”
“Did I tell you I got used to that?”
Jessica nodded.
Eva laughed, one short bark that sounded like it might lead to tears. “I lied.”
“Wait here, Mom.” After shoving the bills into the drawer of the little table, Jessica pulled the contents of the garment bag out and hurried to the downstairs bathroom. Inside, she took three long breaths to calm her nerves. She had known her mother wasn’t going to be happy with her new, more public role with the Department, but she hadn’t expected the strength of this push back. Her mom had always been in her corner, even when she disagreed with her decisions, like when she dropped out of college to marry Nathan.
Her mother was the queen of “no matter what” when it came to love and loyalty, and Jessica relied on that. She thought about the missions she had already completed. The lives she had helped to save; the information she had gathered. This was the right thing to do, and she would do it. Without her mother if necessary. God, she hoped it wasn’t necessary.
She emerged a few minutes later, clad all in black. The costume was close-fitting, but not that different from a full body leotard she might once have worn for a floor routine, though it did come with flexible shoes instead of openings for her bare feet. The whole rig was much more high-tech, of course, and equipped to help her hold weapons and devices of various sorts. Parts were reinforced to protect her from injury, while still remaining breathable and flexible. The coolest part, so far as she was concerned, was the half-face mask that included a red-haired wig cut into a pageboy. She hardly recognized herself. She looked like Barbara Gordon as Batgirl, red hair hanging from a cowl, but without the ears or logo.
She let herself float up to the ceiling and pulled herself back across the beams to where her mother still sat staring out the window. Tucking her body into a tight roll, she flipped down onto the floor, landing almost soundlessly. Eva jumped and shrieked, startled.
Jessica stepped back and spread her hands wide. “This is the work version. When I need to go completely dark, I can tuck the wig away and add gloves, so almost no skin shows. I’ll have a showier version for public appearances, with some color. They’re thinking blue and white. What do you think?” She turned in a tight circle in midair, then landed softly again. “I always kind of wanted to be a redhead.”
The back door clattered, and the boys came tumbling inside, sweaty and dirty. Frankie called out, “Grandma? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she responded, sounding mostly like she meant it. “We’re in the dining room.”
Jessica heard them throwing off their sneakers and tossing them into the basket she kept for them by the door. She tried to think of a heroic pose but settled for a broad smile. At the last minute, she pulled off the mask, afraid her boys wouldn’t recognize her.
As usual, Max got there first, his little feet slapping against the floor noisily. He stopped short two steps into the room, and his brother nearly plowed into his back. “Max? What the heck?”
“Is that any way to talk to your little brother?” Jessica said, her voice gentle and teasing.
Both boys were staring at her now, Max’s face open with wonder and Frankie’s scowling suspiciously. Eva stepped over and took their hands, and the three of them stood gaping for a long moment. “Put the mask back on, Jessica,” her mother said.
Jessica did, leaning down to place the mask and tuck her short blonde hair into the wig. When she stood back up, she flipped into a walkover, landing in a crouch at her sons’ feet. “Your mama’s going to be a superhero, boys.”
She knew she’d won when Frankie’s scowl broke into a huge gap-toothed smile.
Patricia and the Call of Duty
“Convince me,” Patricia said, closing her arms across her chest. “Give me a reason.”
“We do good work,” said the Director.
“So does the Peace Corps.”
The Director cocked an eyebrow at her. He was too good-looking to be trusted, sort of outdoorsy and rumpled in a young Robert Redford sort of way. He turned his startling blue eyes on her again; it was like a searchlight bumping across your face when he looked at you. “True, but I’m not sure you’re the Peace Corps type,” he said, sliding into that lazy smile again.
Patricia had to agree. “True, but I’m not the government toadie type either. I’m not a soldier. I don’t take orders without question. I won’t be used.”
“This isn’t the army. We’re not asking for blind loyalty.”
They weren’t exactly transparent either. “Why do you want me?”
“Lucas Austin says we’d be fools to let a woman like you walk away.”
Patricia remembered Austin all right. The man they’d sent to try and recruit her after the college fire last spring, the one with perfect teeth and the swagger in his walk. He’d been persistent, but she’d turned him down. She’d been so sure she could find Cindy on her own. In the end, Cindy had been the one to find her. “I bet Lucas says that about all the girls.”
“Actually, no. You made quite an impression on him.”
Patricia brushed off the flattery with a dismissive wave of her hand. “You keep telling me what the Department isn’t. Why don’t you try telling me what it is?”
The door swung open behind her, but Patricia didn’t turn to look, keeping her focus on the Director. A file folder was tossed on the table, then a familiar voice said, “The Department is a private covert organization, subcontracted at times to the US government but operating independently. They cooperate with the international intelligence community, taking the cases beyond the expertise of normal outlets.”
Patricia pushed back her chair and leaped to her feet. “Suzie?”
The Director stood, too, clasping his hands in front of his stomach. “Miss Grayson has accepted a position as my personal assistant.”
Suzie grinned and dipped into a curtsey. “I got in last night. I was going to call you, but I wanted to surprise you.”
“You definitely surprised me.” Patricia didn’t like surprises, as a rule. But it was undeniably good to see Suzie. She hadn’t seen her since her graduation ceremony, though they’d been in touch by phone and e-mail. Good as it was to see her former intern, her sudden presence didn’t change the feeling of being pushed and manipulated. If anything, it made it worse.
She turned to the Director. “Just because Suzie is here doesn’t mean I’ll automatically accept your offer.”
“Of course not.” He picked up the contract paperwork they had been discussing, shuffled it into a neat stack, put it into a manila envelope and handed it to her. “I know I can rely on your discretion as you look over our offer in more detail. Can I expect an answer from you by the end of the week?”
Patricia accepted the envelope, dropping it into her Dolce & Gabbana bag. “That should be fine.”
“Miss Grayson will see you out.”
Once in the hall, Suzie squealed and hugged Patricia exuberantly. “Are we okay? You’re not mad? I wanted to surprise you.”
Patricia felt her face soften. “No. I’m not sure I belong here, but you absolutely do. They could use a woman with your skills around here.”
“From what I hear, they could use you, too. I hear you kicked some serious butt in Indiana.”
Patricia swallowed, still embarrassed about having been so easily captured, and by her failure to stop Cindy Liu from escaping. She didn’t regret her performance in the fight, though. “They deserved it.”
“I’m sure they did.” Suzie’s face was fierce with a protective anger.
An awkward silence fell, and Patricia tugged at the strap of her bag on her shoulder, uncharacteristically fidgety. “I missed you,” she finally said.
“Who wouldn’t? I’m amazing.” Suzie looked down the hallway past the elevators. Patricia guessed her office was back there.
“I should go.” She couldn
’t tell if Suzie was just busy or if she didn’t want to be there with her.
Suzie reached out and squeezed Patricia’s hand. “I should be done by six. Chinese food at your place? I want to hear all about Indiana.”
“I’d like that.”
Suzie turned and clicked down the hall in her bright-blue heels. Patricia stood in front of the tall mirrored elevator doors, considering her own reflection. Was she being unnecessarily stubborn? Was working for the Department that much different than working for any corporation?
If she signed on, it didn’t mean giving up her independence, just gaining colleagues. Colleagues like Sally Ann Rogers. They had resources and access to information she’d never get on her own. They might be the one group of people in the world who would not only accept her strange gifts but celebrate and embrace them.
Pulling the envelope back out of her bag, Patricia looked around for a seat and found a chair next to a large potted plant down the hallway Suzie had disappeared into. She flipped through the pages of the contract slowly, reading each line and trying to read between them as well. It was a contract position, for a period of three years, with the expected clauses for non-disclosure and high bonuses for dangerous situations. The Director had said they could renegotiate after that if she wasn’t happy with the direction things took. She’d signed worse.
Three years. Both a big commitment and at the same time a blink of the eye in the scheme of things. Patricia pulled out her pen, uncapped it and closed her eyes, listening for the inner voice, the gut she had always trusted when it came to the big decisions of her life. She didn’t hear anything. She signed anyway.
At six o’clock, Patricia stood by the door, watching anxiously for Suzie’s arrival and wondering why she felt so oddly nervous. The requested Chinese food already sat on the coffee table in the living room, and she had placed the big pillows on the floor so they could eat and watch TV or just talk. By six fifteen, she was getting irritated, even though she knew Suzie had to work until six. She stalked around the house, rearranging pillows and turning lights on and off for no good reason. She glared at the rain out the window as if it were at fault for making Suzie late.
Still, when the doorbell rang at six thirty, she ran to the door and flung it open. Suzie hurried inside. “I’m sorry. It took forever to even get out of the parking garage.” She shook the rain off her light blue raincoat, leaving a puddle on the tile. Patricia stood there awkwardly, not sure if she should hug her former assistant or wrap her in a towel. It had been months since they’d spent time together. A lot had happened in those months. Patricia could only hope their friendship was still in place and strong enough to weather it all.
Suzie stood dripping in the doorway for a moment, her blonde hair plastered to her head. Neither of them spoke. Then she shivered, and Patricia moved quickly to take her wet jacket and find her some dry clothes to put on.
A few minutes later Suzie came out of Patricia’s bedroom with a towel wrapped around her head and rolling back the sleeves on a Henley tee from Patricia’s closet. She bounced over to the living room with surprising energy. “Whew. It’s amazing what some dry clothes and Chinese food can do for a girl.”
Patricia knelt beside her at the table and dished out plates of a little of everything for each of them. For a few minutes, there was only the sound of chopsticks and slurping. “I was starving.” Suzie hid her mouthful of noodles behind her hand.
“I bet. The first day on the job has to be a mad house.”
“And this was no ordinary first day. I am going to love working at the Department.”
Patricia dropped an eggroll onto her plate and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “They don’t creep you out?”
“All that super-secret stuff?”
Patricia nodded.
“Nah. It’s not all that different from any place else. I mean, every CEO has secrets. My last boss was a real dragon lady, you know.” She poked Patricia on the chest plate meaningfully.
“Yeah. I’ve heard about her.” Patricia grinned. Suzie was always so good at making her smile.
“Have you seen the website?”
“What website?”
“Wait, I’ll show you.” Suzie unfolded herself and retrieved her bag from the front door. “Is your Wi-Fi still the same?”
A few minutes later, Suzie and Patricia were huddled on the couch, looking at Suzie’s laptop screen. “The Lizard Woman of Springfield” was written in bright green monster font across the top of the page, and an animated gif of Patricia roaring in front of a house fire ran on an endless loop in the center of the page.
“Oh, dear Lord,” Patricia said. “Are these people for real?”
“Oh, you’ve got fans. Look.” Suzie clicked on a link for “true stories and encounters.” There were over a hundred entries.
“Let me see that.” Patricia grabbed the laptop and scrolled down the page. “I have not been scaly in public nearly this many times.” She scrolled some more. “I’ve definitely never crawled out of the sewers to help someone. Or yanked anyone’s arms off.”
Suzie took back the laptop. “True. I know. But look.” She clicked on a video link, and the screen was filled with the face of a middle-aged woman whose chubby cheeks were streaked with thick black mascara. “I’d like to thank the Lizard Woman. She saved my little girl from that hoodlum she’d been dating. If she hadn’t come in and knocked him out like she did, my baby might be dead.” It was the woman from the shopping mall last spring, the mother of the beauty queen.
Patricia wiped her eyes. They were suspiciously damp.
“You’re a hero to these people, Patricia. Both the ones you actually helped and the ones whose crazy imaginations were inspired by the very idea of you. You’re making a difference out there.”
“I’m just trying to live my life. I’m no hero.”
“Of course you are. And I couldn’t be prouder that you’re signing on with the Department.”
Patricia shouldn’t have been surprised that Suzie already knew. Heck, she probably processed the paperwork. “I’m still not sure they can be trusted, but I have learned I’m not very good at doing this alone. I spent months looking for Cindy and found nothing but dead ends and wild goose chases.”
“But when the rubber met the road, you were there, saving the day again. Jessica and Sally Ann might well be dead if it weren’t for you.”
“They wouldn’t have been in danger in the first place if it wasn’t for me. And you’re forgetting Leonel.” Patricia got up and stalked to the kitchen. Suzie had been her loudest cheerleader from the start, but the fan-girl praise rang false just then. Regardless of what a bunch of people with cell phone cameras and too much time on their hands thought, she was not hero material.
Patricia scraped the leftover sauces off her plate with unnecessary force, then rinsed the plate and placed it in the dishwasher. When she stood back up, Suzie was in the doorway, holding her own dishes out in front of her like an offering. Wordlessly, Patricia took her plate and scraped it clean, too. She stood with her hands on the sink for a long moment.
“I think you see things in me that aren’t actually there, Suzie. I’m a selfish, foolhardy, bitter old woman, not some kind of knight for justice. The few times I’ve helped someone are far outweighed by the damage I’ve done.”
“I refuse to believe that,” Suzie said. She grabbed the taller woman by the upper arms and pulled her around to face her. Patricia tried to look away, but Suzie grabbed her head and held it until Patricia met her eye. “I believe in you. You are a woman who gets things done. You’re cynical, yes, but you also have a heart of gold under that armor of yours.”
Patricia felt tears in her eyes again. She never used to cry, but lately tears seemed to be just under the surface, waiting to spring up and embarrass her at any time. Suzie’s eyes, in contrast, were clear. The same clear and penetrating blue they had always been, and they were locked onto Patricia’s face with a ferocious intensity. Patricia had no idea what to say
. She wanted to be the woman Suzie believed her to be. Heck, if she could be half that amazing, she’d be woman of the year.
“Suzie,” she said. But there were no words to follow it.
“For such a smart woman, you can be so stupid,” Suzie said. She stretched high on her tiptoes, pulled Patricia’s face down to hers and kissed her.
When Patricia awoke, the condo smelled of coffee and bacon. She sat up with a start, pulling the covers around herself to cover the nudity she was suddenly very aware of. What the hell had she been thinking? Suzie was less than half her age. What the hell had Suzie been thinking? Patricia covered her face with her hands and groaned.
Delaying dealing with the repercussions of the night, Patricia ran the shower. The bathroom had signs of Suzie’s presence in the extra damp towel hanging on the always-empty other towel rack and a strand of blonde hair on the sink. Patricia picked it up between two fingers and dropped into the wastebasket. While the shower built up a head of steam, she stared at herself in the mirror, trying to imagine what a young beauty like Suzie could have seen in her.
The woman looking back was in good shape for her age, but no one would mistake her for forty ever again, no matter how good a hair stylist she hired. There were lines deep in her face and looseness in her neck and arms that no amount of exercise seemed to tighten. She turned around to look at her reflection from the back. Her legs were still well muscled and long, and now that she was used to the sight of her permanent armored plating on her upper back, she thought she looked strong. She spun back to the mirror and flashed herself a reptilian smile. She was dangerous. Maybe that was what Suzie saw: strength and ferocity.
She showered quickly, pulled on her bathrobe, and went down to face the music, hoping it would be more of a pop love song than a country ballad.
Face the Change (Menopausal Superheroes Book 3) Page 16
