4. That was a Secret
Chapter 4
That was a Secret
Taz
Mourningkill, New York
Top was unblinking as he stared at me, watching my every move. He was looking for a twitch of a brow, a flare of a nostril, the slight hint of a smirk.
“Three eights.” I narrowed my eyes as I laid down my cards.
Mack McClanahan earned his nickname from our Special Forces days when he’d led our group as the Top Sergeant. The Operation Detachment group had been dubbed “Lucky 13”. Now out of the Army, Top and his wife, Charlotte, had retired to a life of repairing an ancient Victorian Farmhouse in the middle of a shit ton of land.
Mack wore flannels, had grown a beard, and was getting a bit soft around the middle. His arms still remained huge from the daily task of gathering firewood-something he’d do until winter when the wood would finally be used.
“Bullshit.” Top’s gruff voice carried over the table as he gave a knowing smirk.
I reached down to the three cards I had placed and flipped them over.
Three eights, just like I said.
It seemed like his stomach wasn’t the only thing going soft. So was his ability to tell if someone was lying.
“Go Fish.”.
“Fuck.” He wiped a heavy palm over his face, groaning. His huge palm came down and he picked up every card in the center of the table, more than doubling his hand.
“Holy hell, she was actually telling the truth for once,” Goose said, leaning back in his seat.
His strange mustache was similar to the Top Gun character he was named after. He had been our Medic in the Special Forces and had moved out here after his wife passed. He’d needed the support system for the kids.
I had told him that was a terrible idea since we were a horrible, horrible influence, but decided to go with it when he bought a place in the town of Mourningkill where he occupied his time doing odd jobs, one of which was as a crossing guard for his children’s school.
His blouse had dogs on it, splayed out like the flowers of a Hawaiian shirt. It was something he had worn since his kids were little because it made them laugh. Now that they were pre-teens, he kept on wearing that shit because it embarrassed them, and it made him laugh.
“Why are you allowed to say rude words?” Goose’s daughter, Mary, looked up from the phone that was practically glued to the end of her nose but popped up just enough to give her Dad a hard time.
Mary was becoming a real emo punk, the tips of her hair dyed a deep purple, with bangs that slanted over smokey, painted eyes. Some days she wore a deep purple lip stain which I thought was pretty damn cool.
The kid’s going places.
“There’s no such thing as rude words, baby,” Goose said, calling over his shoulder. “Just rude times to use them.”
“That’s not what Mrs. Morris says.”
“Mrs. Morris and I have a difference of opinion, then,” Goose said without a blink.
Tyler, his fifteen-year-old, looked up from his iPad and smirked. “Mrs. Morris has the hots for Dad.”
“Ew!” Mary squealed, kicking her brother in the calf with her socked. The open floor plan ensured we were all able to be within shit-talking range of one another.
“What? She does! Everyone knows it,” Tyler protested, smacking his sister in the arm.
“I’m sure that’s not true, Tyler,” Goose said, rolling his eyes, but otherwise making no move to stop the pre-teen and teen from kicking each other across the couch. “And we don't gossip, right? Gossip is bad.”
“You’re so lame, Dad.” Tyler rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, so lame,” I parroted, nodding my head sagaciously as I intertwined my fingers, and made a little cradle for my pointed chin.
“You’re a terrible influence, Taz,” Goose complained.
“I like her!” Mary said, raising her slender arm in the air like she was answering a question in a classroom.
“Only because Taz says you can shave half of your head,” Goose called over his shoulder, glowering at me. “Which you are not allowed to do.”
“I want to grow up like Aunt Taz,” Mary said with a wide grin, knowing it would drive her dad crazy. “Her bike is totally rad.”
“Totally rad,” I mouthed quietly to Goose, puffing my chest. “She gets me. I can’t wait to teach her how to ride.”
“Over my dead body,” Goose shouted, before smirking at his kids. As much as I gave him shit, he was a good dad. I knew that if she came home with half her head shaved, he’d hate it. But Mary would never doubt that her dad loved her. Never.
If only all little girls could grow up with that kind of love.
“What are you doing for your birthday?” Charlotte at me from the kitchen, a spatula in her hand. She was starting to get a distinguished streak of gray at her right temple, that emphasized the soft wave of her shoulder-length bob.
The place smelled like Italian food - lasagna, spaghetti. The scent of garlic and tomato sauce was so thick, you could practically see it in a cloud over our head.
“Nothing,” I said, definitively, rolling my eyes. “I never do anything on my birthday. I’m not changing that anytime soon.”
“That’s not true.” She pointed the spatula at me and raised her brow. “When Griff was around, you two used to hit the town and stay up all night. Why don’t we do something this year?”
It was different with Griff. He had a way about him that made me think anything was possible, even when I knew it wasn't. Not for someone like me.
“I’d rather not,” I tried to keep the resentment out of my voice. “I mean, it’s not like I’ve done anything this last year.”
“What do you mean, sweetheart?” Charlotte asked, concern etched in her knotted brow.
“I mean… Jesus, I’m thirty years old, living in a trailer, and doing odd jobs.” I really, really wanted a drink.
No sooner had the thought crossed my mind when Goose got up, went to the fridge and popped a beer bottle open, sliding it to me.
“Thanks,” I said, staring at the bottle, and remembering a certain night with Griff, so many years ago. “I mean, come on, I’m hardly going places.”
I took a drink, and shook my head, just to get a moment to gather my thoughts.
“I mean, half of us are retired, and Griff is off doing secret squirrel shit. What have I got going for me?”
Goose’s mustache twitched with a repressed smile. “So, this is about Griff?”
“No!” I was probably protesting too much. “It’s just an example.”
“Well, if it means anything, compared to VD you’re doing pretty great, yeah? At least you’re not squatting.” Goose shrugged. “If I were a single unattached man, without the strap-hanging spawn, I’d totally be living like you! Hell, I can’t even remember what that kind of freedom feels like.”
I knew that he was trying to make me feel better, but he missed the mark.
“I could do with some attachment,” I said quietly.
I could use a home. A real one. My trailer was just a place I put my head down at night. But this old house? After all the work they’d done to it, and all the work they would do in the future… it was a real home.
I had no intention of trying to celebrate another year where I accomplished none of my dreams, and was no closer to knowing who I was, or what I was supposed to do. Another year wasted alone. Except it was less cute now that I was thirty.
Charlotte pinned me with a sadness in her expression that made me wince. “Well, sweetheart, what is it that you want to be doing?”
Even Charlotte was a bigger badass than I was. She had been a Paradigm spy but got burned. So now she worked in an admin job so she could be closer to home. But at least she got to do something amazing.
It had been years since I did anything remotely interesting.
“I don’t know,” I said, quietly.
Except I did. I wanted to get my degree in engineering. I wasn’t like Griff - he was destined for the White House. But a small engineering job was something I could be proud of. Maybe.
But even that was out of reach.
“Either way, I don’t want to bother with my birthday.”
“Well, if you change your mind,” she smiled kindly. “October thirteenth is always on my calendar. Griff made me promise that I’d remember and offer, but I can’t drag you to celebrate the way he could.”
I snorted, “Griff can eat shit.”
As soon as I said it, I regretted it.
Day after day, I had no idea if he was safe, or if any of us would be informed if he wasn’t. Did he have a system to tell me that he was gone? Don’t be stupid, Taz. Why the fuck would they notify you?
His ex-wife would be notified before me. I’d probably be the last to know.
Charlotte came and placed her hand on my shoulder, giving it a light squeeze as Top put down some cards, and called out, “two nines.”
“Bullshit!” Goose and I said in unison.
Top’s eyes went wide with annoyance. “What the fuck?”
“Language!” Mary and Tyler reprimanded in unison.
“Rude!” Goose chided his kids.
“Show ‘em,” I said, trying to put the absent member of our team out of my head and nodding at Top’s cards.
He flipped his cards to reveal an Ace and a Queen, and rolled his eyes, picking up all the cards in the middle. Top was shit at this game. He couldn’t bluff, and he was rarely good at knowing if one of his friends lied. The man could read an enemy combatant with frightening accuracy, but once you were in his inner circle, then he had no instinct whatsoever.
Charlotte leaned down to give me a one-armed hug from behind. She kissed my temple and whispered, “He’ll call.”
She was right. He always called on my birthday. When he first left for his new career, he told me he’d call on my birthday, and he did. He did the year after as well. I had no reason to think he wouldn’t this year.
Except that the last time I saw him, he’d gotten shot in the thigh while protecting me. We fought like hell the whole time he was healing, and the day he left, he barely said a word to me. There were two reasons why he wouldn’t call – the first, and most likely, he didn’t like me anymore. The second, because he was gone.
Charlotte got up and went back to the kitchen, pulling a lasagna out from the massive five-range stove. She waved the kids over, and made them get plates of food, which they ate happily on little tv trays on the couch, keeping their noses planted in their electronics.
“Thank you!” Goose said, loudly, as a way to reprimand his kids for their bad manners.
When his kids yelled back, “Thanks, Mrs. McClanahan!” he shook his head.
“One ten.”
He dumped a single card on the deck, and no one questioned it. Goose was a shitty liar.
“When are you going to move into the cabin, Taz?” Top asked, eyeing his growing stack of cards with dismay. “You don’t have to be out there in the damn trailer. Hell, keep the trailer, and just move into a solid building.”
I shook my head. “I’m good where I am.”
“Paying rent for land that doesn’t even have electricity?” Top snorted. “Between the hellish winters, and the high winds we’ve been having, I’m surprised your trailer hasn’t tipped over and crushed you.”
“The trailer is more than I need.”
“You could have a house on my property for free.” He shook his head. “Veder’s already crashing in the barn–”
“He’s doing great renovations on it, so it’s not crashing!” Charlotte called over her shoulder. “He’s such a good help around here.”
“– We could arrange the same for you.” Top kept on talking, even through his wife’s interruption. “You were an Engineer. Hell, you might be more helpful than VD.”
Top’s property was hundreds of acres, largely undeveloped. The old farmhouse was grand for its age, seated on top of a hill, deep into the wood line, and unseen from the major road that was right at the end of his two-mile driveway. The house was held together by spackle and duct tape. The guest cabin was in slightly better shape.
Once Goose’s kids were fed, Charlotte came by to hover over her husband, placing her hands on his shoulders.
“What we’re saying is we’d like you to be here. We’d love it if you lived in the cabin!” Then she smiled, tenderly. “I know Griff wouldn’t mind coming back to this place.”
I glared at her.
Ever the Mama, she was always trying to set me and Griff up. If she could, she’d be locking us up in broom closets and throwing us out to sea in a rowboat without oars, just to see if we’d finally give her more “Grandbabies”.
“You’ll be the first stop when he’s finally home.” Charlotte smiled, completely unaffected by my molten stare.
“Bullshit,” I snorted. “He hates me half the time.”
“Really?” Charlotte said, wiping the back of her hand over her brow that had begun to sweat as she slaved over the stove. “Doesn’t seem like it. After all, he sent us all an email to make sure we were doing something for your birthday tomorrow.”
“We’re not supposed to tell her that!” Top said, leaning back in his seat and shooting his wife the approximation of a reprimanding look. But he loved her too much to ever be stern with her. “That was a secret.”
Charlotte gasped, placing her hand over her lips. “Was it?”
She wasn’t appalled at all. She, like Griff, was a spook. She was one of the best, in fact. She had taken down a major Arm’s Dealing Network and got stabbed in the gut for her efforts. So a leaked secret was, most definitely, intentional.
“Well, that cat’s out of the bag now,” she smirked. “He wanted to make sure we did something for you before your mother called and ruined everything.”
Her sour face made me laugh.
“That woman, I swear,” she placed her hands on her hips, shaking her head. “Can’t appreciate what she has.”
Charlotte never approved of my mother. If she had had kids, she would have been a good mom. It was ironic that the best parents were often the ones who were prevented from having them.
“Amazing how he’s taking time out of his very, very busy venture capitalism schedule to make sure we’re taking care of you,” Goose said, his voice dripping with dry humor.
“Is that what he’s doing?” I said sarcastically. “Venture capitalism? That is the worst cover ever. They really phoned it in with that one.”
Venture capitalism, indeed.
“Where is Veder, anyway?” I tried to change the subject, forcing everyone to turn their minds back to the real trouble child, and then maybe they’d stop talking about me.
“In the barn, afraid to come in. He thinks you hate him,” Goose laughed.
“Why would I hate him?” I asked, shocked.
“Oh, come on, you and Griff were always partners in crime!” Goose laughed. “I’m surprised you two didn’t get together once he dumped the piece of work he was married to… what was her name?”
“Kristin,” Top said, biting into a piece of garlic bread.
“Dreadful woman,” Charlotte said from the kitchen, turning off the stove and filling up a couple plates.
“Let me help you with that!” Goose came to his feet and ran out to the small kitchen. “Anyway, Veder thinks you hate him because Griff hates him.”
The last part was true. Griff did hate Veder ever since he accidentally slept with Kristin when they met in a bar, drunk. They were both trolling for tail in Fayetteville. Veder didn’t know she was married to Griff until he was sneaking out and saw the team picture on the mantle.
Griff had never introduced them. She’d barely showed up to any functions, and she made it clear that the whole military life was far beneath her.
“Oh, hey! By the way, that firefighter asked about you again today,” Goose said, crossing his arms and pursing his lips, eyes bright with mischief.
“What firefighter?” Charlotte popped her head up, looking at me with a scandalized expression. Drama queen.
“Rilo something-or-other,” Goose said, totally throwing me under the bus. “I guess he thinks you’re kinda special. He said you two went on a date…”
“Shut up,” I said, kicking him under the table. “And his name is Riley.”
“He was walking his kid to school and asked me how I knew you. Kinda fishing to see what your deal was.” Goose was throwing what semblance of a personal life I had on the table. “Told him you were single, and all.” He gave me a sly wink. “Don’t worry, I didn’t embarrass you.”
“You’re a walking, talking embarrassment,” I groaned.
“Yeah, Dad!” Mary said.
“Yeah!” Tyler chimed in. “A total embarrassment.”
Goose beamed, as if they'd just paid him the greatest compliment in the world.