“When we get back, I’ll patch these three camera into the main feed and add them to the bank of cameras for the surveillance crews.”
Terrance chuckled, adding, “Looks like I just got more to watch.” The others grinned, having put their own time in front of the bank of cameras. Tony always started new hires, even licensed Private Investigators, in the surveillance room. It was a good lesson in weeding out the ones just looking for glory jobs and gave everyone a chance to share in the duties.
Pulling into the underground garage, the men piled out, securing the van and the equipment. BJ immediately went in to set up the camera feeds while Tony called Shane, letting him know of their success.
Driving home in the early hours of the morning, he looked forward to just that—driving
home.
For years after calling the Army home, he had simply driven to his empty apartment, stripped and gone to bed. Now there was someone, in a little blue Victorian house, waiting for him. She had asked if he wanted to stay.
“It seems silly for you to keep paying rent on an impersonal apartment when you are here most of the time.”
Chuckling to himself, he realized that he never thought he would be living in what looked like a life-sized doll house. Turning into the driveway, he parked, but stayed in the vehicle staring at the vision in front of him.
Yeah,
he thought, warmth flooding through him.
This is home.
S
ince putting off
the party for another week, Tony decided to take Sherrie on a little trip; she was definitely tired of being indoors and coddled. She had gone back to work on Thursday but Mr. Marks has fussed over her so much that she felt strangled there as well.
Bundled into the truck, she asked where the secret trip was headed.
“If I told you then it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?” he teased.
Several miles out of town, they meandered down a small lane near the river. Turning onto a long, gravel driveway, she saw a small house at the top of a hill. Partially out of stone, it looked as though it had been transported here from another time and place.
“Where are we?” she asked in curiosity.
“This used to be our family vacation home and my father lives here now.”
“Your father? You didn’t tell me we were meeting your father!” she exclaimed. Looking down at her jeans and sweater, with the arm sling still on, she immediately fretted over her appearance.
Tony glanced sideways, chuckling. “Baby, you’re gorgeous. And this is just my dad. Nothing fancy. Hell, my dad wouldn’t know fancy if it bit him in the ass.”
A giggle escaped as she relaxed. Looking around, she was enchanted by the old fishing cabin. “This looks so old, as though it could be from an ancient fishing village in Europe.”
“It was built by my grandfather when he was very young and first married. He and his brothers hauled some of the stone from the river to make the foundation. My father was born here, but the family eventually moved closer to the city. They kept this place though, for vacations and just as a getaway.”
Before she could ask any more questions, they pulled up to the front where an older version of Tony stood to greet them. Hailing them from the porch, he called for them to come inside and get warm. They hurried in and Sherrie was immediately struck by the hominess of the cabin.
The main room boasted a vaulted ceiling and she could see a small loft over half of the area. An old, scarred dining table stood at one end and the other end of the room sported a comfortable sofa and a well-used recliner. The coffee table and end tables were also old and scarred, but seemed perfect for the place. A stone fireplace sat at the end of the room and with spring still a month away, the crackling fire gave off warmth, as well as lending ambiance to the quaint home. The only modern intrusion was a flat screen TV sitting on an old cabinet.
A quick glance told her that the kitchen was behind the dining table and with a small hall dividing the back area, she assumed the bedrooms and bathroom were there.
Tony pulled her in close, still careful of her shoulder and made the introductions.
“Dad, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Sherrie Mullins. Sherrie, this is my dad, Ed Alvarez.”
Before she could get her greeting out, she found herself in a bear hug by the elder Mr. Alvarez.
“Dad, don’t break her,” Tony admonished, pulling her back into his embrace.
She laughed at his father’s enthusiasm, but her mirth stilled when she looked into his face and saw tears in his eyes.
“Forgive an old man, my dear,” he explained. “I’ve wanted my Tony to find happiness and despaired that he was never going to do that. But seeing you here today, makes my heart full again.”
Tony felt her body tremble and he knew her tears would come if he did not intervene. “Baby, can I get you something to drink? Dad, you got anything other than beer?”
“You make your old man sound like a drunk, son,” his father joked. “As it is, I have some hot tea in a pot just for you.” Leaning toward Sherrie, he said, “I heard you like tea.”
Smiling her beautiful smile, she agreed saying, “I would love some.”
Settling on the sofa next to Tony, with Ed in the recliner, they talked and laughed through the afternoon. Ed told stories of Tony growing up and the many fishing vacations they had in the cabin.
She glanced sideways at the handsome man laughing with his father. His face relaxed into a smile, caramel eyes twinkling. The Tony she had met a year ago was always somber, but she realized that with time he had relaxed…letting life back in to touch him again. He turned his head, looking down at her with a questioning expression on his face, but she just smiled as she tucked her head back into his shoulder.
Later, in the kitchen, she was staring out of the window over the sink at the dock leading out into the edge of the river. The water meandered slowly in the tributary, cedar trees lining the far side. It was easy to imagine Tony’s family vacations spent here by the water. Ed came up behind her with another cup from the table and looked out as well.
“I love your view from here, Mr. Alvarez,” she said.
“Call me Ed, my dear. And yes, it is a magnificent view.” The two of them watched silently as Tony shoveled snow from the back porch toward the dock.
With the last dish washed and placed in the drying rack, she found herself unable to move away from the scene in front of her. Even bundled up, she could imagine Tony’s strong muscles bunch and cord as they lifted the heavy snow. He had not waited for his dad to ask for help, but saw a need and immediately, quietly set to the task.
“He was a good boy, who’s turned into a good man,” Ed said quietly, watching his son.
Tears pricked the backs of her eyes as she nodded, afraid to trust her voice to speak.
“A parent wants to see their children happy. Damn near broke me and my Ruthie’s heart when we watched him at the funeral of Marla and Sofia. No man should bury a child, and sure as hell not at the same time as burying his wife.”
The older man’s voice cracked as he spoke and she was no longer able to hold back the tear that escaped down her cheek. She glanced at his face, devastated by the ravaged look etched into his expression.
“Thought we’d lost our son.” Seeing her surprise, he quickly added, “Not literally, but what was left was just a shell of a man. Know this sounds crazy, but we were glad he headed back to his squad. Being in the military gave him something to fight for, a reason to keep living. For his men. For the mission.”
Ed gripped the sink, his gnarled hands clutching for support. She reached out, placing her hand over his. He looked down for a moment, at their touch. She watched as his face transformed as a small smile replaced the haggard expression.
Clearing his throat, he looked up into her face. “He may have gone back to the mission, but he wasn’t the same. Some life experiences change us. My Ruthie died knowing that her son’s heart was damaged and her last words to him were for him to find life again. He may have nodded to her just to ease her passing, but he didn’t feel it in here,” he said, touching his chest.
“We met when he saved me,” she whispered. “I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for him.”
“My dear, you may have been a mission when you met, but you’re no longer that. You’ve brought him back to life and my only regret is that Ruthie didn’t live to see this day. You’ve given him life again. Hope. Love. You’ve brought my son back to me.”
She choked back a sob as the older man pulled her in for a hug. As she clung to Tony’s father, she could feel his arms doing the same. Both hanging on as the emotions overtook them.
Hearing Tony approaching the house, the two in the kitchen broke apart, both wiping tears from their faces.
“Lordy, look at us,” his father laughed. “We should be celebrating instead of crying.”
She smiled back, wiping her eyes. “Sometimes tears are good,” she admitted.
Ed looked at her benevolently. “Yes, ma’am. You’re right.” With one last pat on her hand, he turned to head out to the garage to meet Tony as he stowed the shovel.
Sherrie dashed into the bathroom to repair her makeup, but when she reappeared Tony’s concerned expression met hers. Walking straight into his arms, she lay her head on his massive chest as his arms enveloped her. Answering his unasked question, she whispered, “I’m fine. Your dad and I just had a nice talk.”
He pulled her away from his chest so that he could peer into her eyes. What he saw nearly felled him…trust, happiness, and love.
After saying goodbye to Ed, with promises to visit again soon, they drove back to the city. Tony glanced over at the profile of Sherrie’s beautiful face, stoically staring out of the window.
“You okay, babe? Dad didn’t upset you, did he?”
She heard the tentative tremor in his voice, recognizing the concern emanating from him.
“Of course your dad didn’t upset me, sweetie. He’s wonderful.” After a brief pause, she continued, “He loves you very much. He thinks you’re…happy now.” The last part sounded more like a question than a statement.
Tony jerked the truck over to the side of the road and Sherrie looked around quickly, glad there were no other cars around.
“What—”
“Babe,” he interrupted. “You’ve got to know that I’m happy. With you. With what we’ve got.”
She turned, smiling as her hand reached over to cup his strong jaw. “I know. It’s just that I couldn’t seem to get over the feeling of you rescuing me one more time, but your dad said something.”
He lifted his eyebrow in question, but she continued quickly. “He said that I saved you.” She so desperately wanted the words to be true, but now that they were out, they sounded presumptuous. Ducking her head, she wished she could pull the words back in.
He captured her face with his large hand pulling it back around to his. “Oh no, baby girl. You don’t get to hide from me. Ever.” Leaning over, he placed a gentle kiss on her trembling lips. “Dad’s right. You did save me. Never doubt that, baby.”
He angled her head for a more intimate kiss, taking this one deeper, wetter. A claiming kiss. One that spoke of love. Hope. Forever.
After a few minutes they pulled apart, both breathless. Eyes locking, warm caramel meeting sky blue. Slow smiles began.
“Let’s get home, baby. I want to show you just how much you’ve saved me and I sure as hell can’t do it on the side of the road.”
Later that night, he showed her exactly what he thought of her saving him. Over and over, long into the night.
*
Betina lay on
her bed, sleep eluding her once again. Turning on the lamp by her bed, she reached for her art pad, but halted as she heard footsteps in the hall. Quickly shoving it back under her mattress, she pulled the covers up knowing her stepdad was coming.
Stepdad. Miss Sherrie told me that he has no legal authority over me since he isn’t married to mom. But he has other authority. One that I can’t ignore.
The door opened quietly and his presence filled the small room. No small talk. Just down to business.
“How many did you contact today?” growled softly.
She hated this feeling. Helpless. Used. No control. Sighing, she answered, “There were two, but only one came to the store.” She saw his questioning expression and continued, “The skinny girl with the dirty hair. She hasn’t eaten lunch this week at school.”
Hernando nodded, making a notation in his notebook. Flipping it closed, he leaned against the doorframe. “I need more. We will be running laundry on a twenty-four-hour schedule, so you need to step it up and get me more.”
“I’m doing the best I can,” she said. “There haven’t been any new kids in school lately.”
“Then look on the streets. You do what you are told and get me more,” he growled, slightly more loudly this time.
Tears pricked the back of her eyes, but she forced them away.
They won’t help. Nothing helps.
“And make sure you keep that snoopy court worker away from here. I catch her somewhere she’s not supposed to be and it won’t go good for you. Or your mother.”
Her eyes darted up to his quickly. “I’ll do it.”