Chapter 8 #2
“Mustang wouldn’t really tell me why you weren’t there to pick me up today. He just said that you were busy. I didn’t know if that was man-speak for being sick…or maybe for being tired of chauffeuring me around all the time.”
“I’m not sick, and I’m definitely not tired of driving you where you need to go,” Pid said. “You know that thing I’ve been working on?” He waited until she nodded before continuing. “Well, I finished it today.”
Interest lit up her eyes. “You did?”
“Yup. Wanna see?”
“I’m not sure.”
Pid’s brows drew down. “Not sure?”
“I’m not a huge fan of surprises,” she explained.
“Let me guess,” Pid said. “Your father?”
Monica gave him a sheepish look. “Yeah. The most memorable being when he told me to go outside, that he had a ‘surprise’ for me. It was five chickens that had been killed overnight by some predator. A sixth was still alive, but unable to walk. It was squirming on the ground, obviously in pain. He told me to kill it, pluck the feathers from all six, cut off the heads and feet, remove their internal organs, and bring them inside for my mom to wash and bag for later. I was six.”
Pid closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to retain his composure.
It wasn’t until he felt a hand touch his arm that he opened his eyes again. Monica was standing right in front of him, a worried look on her face. “It wasn’t so bad,” she said.
“Don’t,” Pid said with a sharp shake of his head. “Don’t try to defend what that fucker did. He scarred you, and while you’re an amazing woman, someone I admire a hell of a lot, everything he did has stuck with you. And I hate that for you.”
They stared at each other for a long moment, and Pid longed to hug her. But he didn’t want to scare her away or make her think he pitied her. Because he didn’t. How could he pity someone who’d done what they needed to in order to survive?
“Maybe if I had more good surprises under my belt, I’ll feel differently about them,” she said after a moment, gifting him with a small smile.
Damn, that dimple he only got glimpses of now and then was Pid’s weakness. All she had to do was smile at him and he’d bend over backward to give her whatever she asked for, if only to see that dimple again.
“All right. I’ve still got some more cleaning up to do, so ignore the dirt and sawdust.”
“You mean like I’ve been doing all week?” she teased.
Pid chuckled. “Yeah. Like that.”
“You know what?” she asked as they headed inside.
“What?”
“I’m getting used to not living in an immaculate house.
I hadn’t realized that part of my childhood had stuck with me so strongly.
Everywhere I’ve lived, I’ve kept my room clean.
Made sure my bed was always made. Nothing was out of place.
I even did my best to clean the homes of my employers.
It’s kind of freeing to not worry about sawdust on the floor or leaving a dirty dish in the sink. ”
Pid laughed. “I’m not sure if I should be horrified that I’ve been such a negative influence on you or proud.”
“Proud, definitely,” Monica told him as she put her purse on the kitchen counter and looked around.
The living area wasn’t too bad. The guys had helped him sweep it up, but the sofa and coffee table were still pushed against the wall and covered in a sheet to try to protect them from the dust and debris.
“Wow, were you breakdancing in here or what?”
Pid burst out laughing. When he had himself under control, he asked, “Can you seriously see me breakdancing?”
She looked at him with a straight face and said, “I think you could probably do anything you set your mind to.”
Shit. She was killing him.
“Thanks, Mo. Okay, your surprise is in your room. Go on and take a look.”
She gave him a nervous glance, but slowly walked down the hall toward the room she’d been using for the last week.
Pid followed and crossed his fingers she’d like what he’d done.
At first she simply stood in the doorway of her room, looking around in confusion. Everything was exactly how she’d left it that morning. Pid had made sure to put everything back after he and his friends had finished.
Monica looked back at him. “Um…thank you?”
Pid smiled. “Notice anything…off…about the dimensions of the room?” he asked.
She turned back to study the space, and Pid knew the moment she realized what he’d done by her gasp.
“Oh my God, Stuart! Did you…”
“Yup,” he said, still grinning. “I didn’t get to study the safe room at the ambassador’s house in Algiers, but I built the same kind of thing.
The wall on the left is false. There’s about two and a half feet between it and the original wall.
There’s not a lot of room in there, but for someone your size, I figured it would be more than enough for you to move around. ”
Monica hadn’t said a word, just turned around and stared at the wall as if she had x-ray vision and could see behind it.
So Pid brushed past her and went over to where he’d hidden the switch that would open the door.
It was near the floor, and he pressed against a part of the floorboard with his foot.
A small door opened next to him. It was only about four and a half feet tall, far from regular height. He had to bend way over to get inside. But he hadn’t built this for himself, he’d done it solely for Monica’s peace of mind.
“I wanted you to be able to open the door even if your hands were full, so that’s why I decided to put the switch near the floor,” he explained.
“Right now, there’s a blanket, pillow, an extra cell phone, a radio with earphones, and a small stool in there.
The only thing I haven’t done is hook up the electricity to the new plug on the wall.
I’ll do that later. But the plug on the original wall still works, so the radio can be plugged in and the cell phone charged. And there’s one more big thing.”
“More?” Monica whispered.
Pid nodded. “I started thinking about the room in Algeria, and it occurred to me that if Slate and I hadn’t gotten there when we did, you would’ve been trapped in that room when the rioters set the house on fire.
” It had been confirmed by satellite surveillance that the entire neighborhood had been destroyed by the mob.
“The very last thing I want is you going into this safe room and then being trapped there. So I had my neighbor come over and help me make an egress point. It’s even smaller than this one, so you’ll have to get down on your hands and knees to use it, but I tried it, and I was able to get out, so you’ll be fine.
I planted a bunch of bushes on that side of the house recently, so it should give you enough cover to get out unseen.
Then if you need help, you can run to the neighbor’s house, or anywhere else for that matter. ”
Pid knew he was speaking fast, but he couldn’t get a good read on how Monica felt about what he’d done.
“I just wanted you to feel safe,” he said quietly.
“And that room in Algeria kept you hidden from that asshole who definitely would’ve done you harm.
I don’t expect any danger to come knocking at my door, but I can’t say it’ll never happen either.
I’ve made some enemies in my job, and while for the most part my identity is kept secret, there’s always a chance it could be leaked.
Or maybe some roving asshole might target my house since it’s away from the road.
Anyway…I just thought having a place to hide might make you feel more comfortable being here. ”
Pid stood next to the open door to the safe room and shifted uneasily.
Monica still hadn’t said a word, and he was getting nervous.
He kept his eyes on her as she slowly walked toward him.
She leaned over and looked into the space between the new false wall he’d built and the original outside wall.
He’d plugged in a small lamp so she’d be able to see it clearly.
Then she stood up, and he saw tears in her eyes.
Pid panicked a little, thinking something was wrong, that she hated what he’d done. So he started babbling again, trying to keep those tears from spilling over her cheeks. He had a feeling nothing would gut him more than seeing Monica cry.
“You don’t have to use it. It was just a thought I had. I know it made this room a bit smaller overall, but it’s not too bad. And if you really hate it, we can switch rooms. I can stay in here and you can stay in the larger room.”
Monica reached up and put her hand in the center of Pid’s chest and he stopped talking immediately. He barely breathed as he looked down at her and waited for her to speak.
“No one in my entire life has ever done something so amazing for me before,” she said after a moment. “No one. Thank you, Stuart.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I can’t believe you did this all in one day,” she said, leaving her hand on his chest but looking back at the door next to where they stood.
“I built the frame out during the week and kept the boards in my room. It was just a matter of bringing them out and putting them up.”
Monica rolled her eyes. “And drywalling, and painting, and cutting a hole in your house to put that other door in.” She looked back up at him. “I’m assuming your friends helped?”
Pid nodded.
“Honestly, I’m speechless,” she whispered.
Reaching up and putting his hand over hers on his chest, Pid said, “You don’t need to say anything. I’m just glad you don’t think I’m some crazy prepper or anything.”
He wasn’t trying to be funny, but at his words, Monica threw her head back and laughed hysterically. He could only stare at her in wonder as she did her best to get herself under control.
Pid had never seen anything as beautiful as a joyful Monica. He wanted to memorize the moment in case he never got to see it again. Slow time down, bottle her infectious, jubilant laughter.