Chapter 16- Invitation
T uesday was possibly the longest day of Jared Bane's life, and he'd experienced cold wet nights in trenches, hot long days in deserts, and sweaty afternoons in dense jungle foliage. Today, he stood in the backyard of a woman he'd married on paper, holding a can of orange spray paint in one hand an electromagnetic locator to locate underground power lines in the other. This is where the work pod would be located, behind the barn and out of the way.
Out of the way.
A house full of women and he was to establish his work pod in the back of the barn, out of the way. Suddenly, his chest felt tight. His breathing became labored as he stared into the wood line of the trees. The shadow of Helen in the greenhouse appeared out of place as his vision blurred. The weight of his body rested on the handle of the EM locator as he tried to slow his breathing.
The phone in his back pocket rang. Jared took a moment to mentally connect with the ringing device that physically required a response. It took a bit of effort, and he unseated the phone from his back pocket, into his hand, then sliding his finger across the screen. Technically, he wasn't on duty until Monday. Officially, he wasn't a Technician, but a Seraphim, a watcher, and answering the phone wasn't in the manual. He didn't take calls but made them.
“Hello,” he said, trying to steady his breathing.
“Your transponder is registering an erratic heart rate. Has your wife poisoned you already?” The Archangel asked.
“No,” Jared said. “Panic attack. I'm standing in the backyard, behind the barn, feeling like a dip shit for agreeing to any of this. I am in panic mode.”
“Take a moment, slow your breathing, and let's talk it out,” The Archangel said.
“I don't want to talk it out! I think I want out,” Jared snapped. “It's not going to work. She doesn't want me here. Oh, she wants me in her bed, but she doesn't want me here.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Three days!” he yelled into the phone. “She had three days to prepare for me to be in her life as her husband, and as her man, do you know what I got? A drawer! A drawer in the master bedroom as if I'm some fuck boy that comes through on the 3rd, 10th and 22nd of the month. I don't even have a place in the bathroom for my shaver. And did she make room in the closet for my clothes? Hell no. I am living out of my duffel bag. I've been here since Friday, today is Tuesday, and I'm living out of my duffel bag. I can't breathe.”
“Jared, have you spoken to her about any of this?”
“And say what? Please make room in your fucking life for me so I can feel like I live here too?”
“Language,” The Archangel said.
“Kiss my nut bag, Gabriel! I am in a house full of women, and I have no place to decompress or to recharge,” he said. “The bedroom smells like a lemon threw up in there and left shavings of the dead skin off its lemon feet, and the girl, Collette, she avoids me like I'm going to harm her or something. And the other two; if Jesus was driving, he’d let go of the wheel, take off his sandal and climb over into the backseat to beat some asses. It feels strange. I feel strange. I can't breathe.”
“Slow your breathing. Inhale, exhale, slowly. In through your nose, out through your mouth,” The Archangel said.
“And you can inhale these...Jesus,” Jared said, dropping to one knee. “Any day now, those women are coming back to this farm looking for me. All I have are the two 9mms in the cache of my truck. My other stuff arrives next week, and I have nowhere to put any of it. I'm not prepared to even defend us if we come under attack. I’m half blind in one eye and partially deaf in the right ear. We did this all wrong. This is all wrong. Plus, that fucking Sheriff is still snooping.”
The Archangel understood what the man was feeling. However, the man who'd been his friend for many years understood there were actions in place to ensure he would have a pleasant life going forward. Growing pangs were always tough as was this moment for Jared, but faith was stronger than any force. He needed Jared to have more.
“Jared, you're at the home of the chemical assassin for the Forbidden Fruits of the Great Lakes,” The Archangel said. “That woman is prepared for the Apocalypse and the arrival of a horde of zombies. Also, The Cranberry can help set up any home defense systems required. Besides, assistance has entered U.S. airspace.”
“What?”
“Your new best friend entered U.S. Airspace with a flight plan to Texas,” he said. “The next stop on his agenda is Pennsylvania, then on to Ohio. Plus, all you need to do is sit down with the girl and talk.”
“I don't even know what that means,” Jared said, suddenly not being so worried about his own feelings.
“The women will arrive at the farm on Friday,” The Archangel said. “So will your new best friend. You don't need to do anything at all, Jared. Everything will be as it should be.”
“I... I'm hurt she hasn't made more of an effort to include me in this life we are supposed to share,” he confessed.
“Lemon is a thinker. She is a methodical planner. If she said yes, she has a plan. Give her a moment, and hold fast,” The Archangel said, then ended the call.
“Why is he always hanging up on me? I don't think I like him,” Jared said, sitting on the barely there, dry grass behind the barn.
His leg still throbbed especially on wintry days like today. His back hurt because her bed was too soft and he'd slept on the couch simply to have a better night's sleep. All of it was making him want to pack up, buy a cabin in the mountains, and hunt and fish for his own meals. Instead of wallowing in his own pity pool, he got to his feet and continued to work. The work pod required separate systems from the home. A silent generator, its own septic system, a water source, and solar power were required in case of power outages or an attack.
“I'm going to live in my work pod. She can't come in, and I won't extend her an invitation. If she wants her husband, I will meet her in the barn and do the nasty there, then come back to my dude shed and let her fester,” he said, nodding his head like he'd spoken an edict of truth.
****
I N THE KITCHEN, HELEN pulled baked chicken from the oven. She recounted the space in the home she and Mustang would share, thinking of his thoughtfulness in giving her the closet in the second bedroom if she required more space. The master bathroom had shelf space for the products he assumed she'd have for her hair and girlie needs. A smile covered the corner of her lips when she looked at Lemon.
“I bet he has taken over your bathroom with shaving stuff, his man soap, and aftershaves,” she said to Lemon. “Funny thing is, the smell of one shirt in your closet can give the entire rack of clothing an unfamiliar scent.”
The look on Lemon's face made Helen's mouth drop. She was shaking her head at the chemist. Her eyes closed as she fixed her mouth like her mother would do when as a child, she'd done a thing to displease her Mama.
“Please, don't tell me you haven't made space in your bed and bath for his stuff Lemon! If you gave that man a drawer like he is some fuck boy that has a change of drawers and fresh socks for the next morning, I will fight you,” Helen said.
“Chick, would you like a cup of tea?” Lemon said, furrowing her forehead. “Don't come at me on how to take care of my man. I got this.”
“I don't believe you just threatened my life with a cup of your toxic brown water for calling you out,” Helen said. “I'm just pointing out the mental strain of living in a house full of women, and he has no space of his own to decompress. Hell, does he even have a space to hang his shirts? Lemon, what if he has furniture pieces that bring him comfort? I'm just saying, there is nowhere in this house for him to relax.”
“Again, mind yours,” Lemon said. “How did the mixing of the ergot plants go? I provide a great deal of it to Pear and some women's clinics in the Great Lakes. There are people who use it to promote uterine contractions to dispel placentas after birth. The right quantities are critical.”
“You're changing the subject,” Helen said.
“No, you're here to learn chemistry, not stick your nose in my affairs,” Lemon corrected.
“I'm also here as your friend,” Helen said. “If you have enough of those, consider my course corrected. I shall do the work and stay in my lane, never to veer into yours again. However, as your friend, you made space for me to live in your home. I was just wondering if you've done the same for him.”
“Or maybe, when you leave, the closet you're using will be for him?”
“Or maybe, I have nothing in that closet because it's full of your stuff as well, which is why I asked since I'm living out of my suitcase and one drawer for my bras and panties and socks,” Helen replied.
“Would you like a slice of lemon in that cup of tea, Helen?”
“Careful of the invitations you extend, Doc Myrtle. Just because you invited the vampire in doesn't mean it won't drain every breathing creature in the home,” Helen said, calling for the girls to come to dinner.
Over dinner, Lemon hid inside her own feelings. Plans were in place for her husband, but it took time. He was sleeping on the couch because her bed was too soft, but she didn't know that until Saturday morning that Poppa Bear didn’t like the bed. Course corrections were in place, but all of that took time.
She just needed a little bit of time.
*****
W EDNESDAY
The morning began with the girls in a tizzy, jolting Jared from an uneasy sleep on the couch. He'd overslept this morning as had everyone in the home. His wife, also running late, came to the couch and passed him coffee.
“Expect Jack Welsh at around ten this morning,” she told Jared.
Groggily, he asked, “Who is Jack Welsh?”
“The architect and contractor,” she said. “He is going to build you a man cave off the kitchen with a bathroom. Make sure when you meet with him to allocate spaces for your weapons cache and a decent size closet to house your clothing. My closet isn't big enough for two people, and neither is that bathroom. You get your own space to hide out from a house full of women.”
“What?” he asked, trying to come awake.
“If you smoke cigars, please let him know so proper ventilation can be included in the room,” Lemon told him.
“I don't smoke,” he said.
“Good. I did request a wood-burning fireplace for the room, and it should be a fairly good size,” she told him.
“Cost?”
“It's covered as my wedding gift to you,” Lemon told him. “This is going to move quickly. Jack will draw up the plans, Archangel has fast tracked everything, and more than likely backhoes will arrive tomorrow. They will put in the septic tank for the work pod.”
“Okay,” he said, feeling warm in his center.
“This is your home and where we will care for our family,” she told him. “A new bed is arriving later today as well. I'm sorry, I just haven't had a chance to go over any of this with you, so please forgive me. It is finals week.”
“Thank you,” he said, offering her a smile.
“Thank me later tonight when we get to snuggle close,” she told him, blowing him a kiss.
“See you this evening,” he said, sitting up.
Ayanna and Bria stuck out their tongues and waved at him. He waved them off, wishing them well on their school day. Colette hung back, waiting for Helen to arrive in the kitchen. Jared rose, saying morning and heading to the bedroom. He needed to shower, shave, and get his morning going, but later in the day, he planned to sit with Colette to have a chat.
****
B EFORE HE KNEW IT, the day was gone. It was fifteen minutes before four and his wife would be home soon. He'd taken out a few chops to grill for dinner to give Helen a break from cooking, but this afternoon, he also wanted to give the lady a break from Colette, who followed Helen about like a lovesick puppy.
“Colette,” he said, “grab you a drink and snack and join me on the porch. It's cool out, so maybe get a sweater or something.”
“Yes, sir,” she said. “Am I in trouble?”
“Of course not,” he told her, going out the front door. There were two rockers, one close to the door and the other facing the yard. He opted for the second one, giving the girl space to exit inside of the home if she felt she needed to get away from him.
He sat comfortably, pleased with the design Jack had come up with for the new space for him in the home. Having his own bathroom was an unexpected bonus, and he couldn't wait to move into the area. Jared was also surprised to learn there were pre-fabricated room additions available and all that was needed was a foundation, which would be cinder blocks versus concrete, and next week, he'd have a space to house the old life he was moving here. However, first, there needed to be space for him and the child he’d once tried to rescue to connect.
Colette took a seat. She side-eyed him hesitantly, uncertain what this was about. He seemed in no hurry, but finally he spoke.
“When my father died, I was 12,” he told her. “I became the man of the house with the weight of caring for three sisters on my shoulders. At 15, the circus came to town and I called myself running away to join it. They let me join, which lasted for a day. You know what they made me do? Scoop up elephant shit.”
Colette started to laugh. Jared found nothing funny about it, and to this day, he never went to the circus or a zoo, for that matter. Mostly, he avoided any interactions with animals if he could help it, especially elephants.
“Yeah, laugh. I was home in time for dinner, stinking to high heaven and hating the existence of any elephant,” Jared said. “Colette, we all want to run away from what we think is hard, but scooping up shit is far more difficult and smellier.”
“Are you saying I need to scoop up your shit?”
“No, I'm telling you that running away solves nothing,” he told her.
“I remembered you. I also remembered the ugly things I said when you tried to help me. Over and over, man after man that paid my uncle for time with me, I cried myself to sleep, wishing I had taken your hand,” she told him.
“Well, here we are with a second chance for us both,” he said. “As whatever I am supposed to be to and for you, count on me to protect and guide your steps, but I want to know what you need.”
“I don't know what you mean,” she said to him, her eyes wide almost in trepidation of what would come out of his mouth next.
“Think about what you need to be happy. What do you need to plan for your future? Tell me what you want to do,” he inquired.
“I never got past the idea of getting away from my uncle,” she told him. “The only thing I imagined was going to bed at night and feeling safe to sleep. Of course, I wanted to read and go to school. I'm so far behind. I can’t even ride a bike.”
“Okay, we have a starting point,” he said as the Sheriff’s cruiser pulled up. Colette tensed. “Relax and be cool. He's a busybody who is going to take exception to a blond, blue-eyed child living here. He's not here to take you away, but he will make it troublesome.”
Inside the home, Helen had remained close to the door to eavesdrop on the conversation, one out of protectiveness, and two as a reinforcement for either person on the porch. She spotted the Sheriff's vehicle arriving.
Jared calmly spoke, “Helen, come out and bring a chair with you.”
She jumped, not realizing he'd known she was there. Helen did as he instructed, grabbing a straight-back chair and a cup of tea, coming onto the decking, and sitting next to Colette. The Sheriff parked, taking in the blond girl sitting on the porch.
Shortly after getting the bulk of himself onto his small feet, the Sheriff made way to where they awaited his arrival. Lemon pulled into her parking spot as well, coming home for the evening. She exited the vehicle with her briefcase and an armload of papers. Her face was flustered as she nodded to the Sheriff, walking a few steps ahead of him to reach the porch. Jared, on his feet, reached for her briefcase, providing a welcome home kiss.
“Baby, how was your day?” he asked.
“Rough. These kids just aren't prepared for adulthood; so many excuses,” she said, taking the seat Colette stood to let her have. “Sheriff, how can we help you?”
He looked about, then at the blond girl as Bria and Ayanna arrived. He sucked on the over-sized front tooth, “I see you got a new girl. She seems out of place here, and why ain't she in school?”
Colette, to their surprise, answered the man in a Slavic language. She made direct eye contact with the Sheriff, sharing the one or two Ukrainian words her Uncle's Thursday night client used with her. Everyone tried not to react. Helen, however, stifled her giggle.
“She normally gets that reaction from people,” Helen said as Colette smiled, showing off the teeth, which were making progress, but still rather yucky.
The Sheriff balked. “She don't speak no American?”
“We are teaching her English,” Lemon told the man.
“They couldn't find nowhere else for her to live, and why is this drifter calling you baby?” The Sheriff asked, “I thought he was moving on?”
Bria and Ayanna arrived on the porch. “Hey, Pops,” they said to Jared, offered Myrtle a kiss, taking their foster mom’s briefcase and the stack of papers then heading inside.
The Sheriff was totally confused. “Did they call you Pops?”
“Poppsss,” Colette repeated, saying the word slowly as if she were proud of the one English word she'd mastered, then pointed at the house.
“Go on inside. Work on your lessons,” he said to the girl.
“I work,” Colette repeated.
”Doo-zhe doh-bre,” Jared said, looking back at the Sheriff. “It translates as very good in Ukrainian.”
“You speak Ukrainian,” the Sheriff asked, appearing more baffled than before.
“Yes, which is one reason she was placed with me and my wife,” Jared said, reaching for Myrtle as she stood. “Baby, the contractor came today and the backhoes arrive tomorrow. Things will be done well before Thanksgiving.”
“Speaking of Thanksgiving, I need to call our cousins and Mom to see what the plans are,” Helen told them. “So much to do, so little time. Jared, am I cooking the chops, or are you?”
“I'm grilling dinner tonight,” he said. “I'll get it started in a minute.”
“Sounds good,” Helen said, nodding to the Sheriff.
The Sheriff stood, quietly seething, wanting to ask questions to which he had no right to the answers. His eyes went from Myrtle's face to her hand. The ring was also on the drifter's hand. Jared was over the man's meddling.
“Let me walk you to your vehicle,” he told the Sheriff. “Baby, I'll be in shortly.”
Lemon kissed him again as Jared left the porch. The black Ford F-150 was parked in the drive, but the tailgate was down. As he approached the truck, he made a point to close the tailgate. The Sheriff's eyes went to it and got large. He recognized the Seraphim.
“Yeah, I'm in your backyard,” Jared said, happy the man knew and understood what he saw on the tailgate as well as its meaning. “My watch starts on Monday.”
The Sheriff wanted to know, “Is that you informing me or a warning?”
Jared paused for a moment, “You seem like a good guy. I'm hoping that I can be a silent partner for you. College towns are a hotbed for trafficking or worse. My job is to keep watch. I don't interfere or intercede. I simply keep watch.”
“You planning to watch me?”
“Are you planning to watch me and my family?”
“Your family?”
“My family, Sheriff,” he said. “This is my home. Myrtle is my wife, and those girls, by law, are my wards. They too, are under my watchful eye.”
The Sheriff huffed, “I don't like you.”
“I. Don't. Care,” Jared told him as a delivery truck arrived. “Oh, our new mattress. The one she has is soft as a pillow. Daddy is going to sleep well tonight.”
Jared watched the color physically drain from the Sheriff’s face. A smile so wide and deep covered Jared’s entire being in a moment of satisfaction. A little faith and an invitation for a new life awaited him. His wife understood what he needed to feel at home in his new role as husband and guide to the girls. Colette was smarter than she let on, and there was a connection between them he would foster.
He waved goodbye to the Sheriff and went inside to show the men where to bring the new mattress. He also noticed the first thing off the truck was a recliner.
“She got me a Big Daddy chair,” he said, feeling emotional. “This is going to be alright.”