Chapter Twenty-Four
Elise
Duchess,
Send up a prayer and praise the Lord because the heat here is finally starting to cool. I walk around in a perpetual state of sweat, and I fucking hate it! It’s beginning to wane a little, but it’s still so damned humid.
Me and Spence call this place the Devil’s Armpit, ‘cause that’s what it damned well smells like, constantly, though we’re all in the same boat.
So, I know I’m whining, but actually, I’m in good spirits. I got your care package. Thank you, baby. It was amazing. The coffee and cookies went down a storm, and finally, using decent toothpaste, soap, and a deodorant stick is heaven. It’s crazy how the simple things we take for granted can give us so much pleasure when they’re in short supply. I’ll tell you what I miss in life...
Beer, decent burgers, and clean clothes that smell fresh just out of the dryer. Sneakers and jeans, cologne, rain, snow, and my bike.
But most of all, I miss you, my sweet, beautiful Duchess, the girl of—and in—my dreams.
I’ll tell you a secret, when I’m ass down in the sand and the sun’s beating down on my head, I remember San Diego. Thinking about you on the beach in your red bikini keeps me sane, Leesy. Your letters give me life, and your love and care give me the strength to carry on in this God-forsaken place because keeping you and our families safe is my priority. I can live with a lot of shit, Duchess, heat, humidity, terrible food, and brown water, but the thought of any of this spilling into your life makes me wanna punch a wall. I can be here, and I can put up with anything as long as you’re safe and happy.
Despite living in the Devil’s Armpit, we have a lot of laughs. Things are so bad they border on hilarious. Every time something goes wrong (which is often), we just look at each other and laugh. Next thing you know, the entire damned room is on its knees, roaring with laughter. The good thing is, not much goes wrong workwise, which is the important thing, I guess. I’d rather shit go FUBAR in our downtime than out in the field.
Work is good. Spence and I have been doing okay. We’re getting a lot done, and our missions run like clockwork. My lieutenant and sergeant are probably the two most knowledgeable and talented Marines who I trust with my life as well as my brethren.
What I’m trying to say is that I’m not in a safe place, but still, we all look out for each other. Missions are well thought out, and we get all the support possible. I’m getting used to things here, Leesy. I hate it, I do, but mainly because I’m so far away from you. Every mile between us slices like a blade at my soul.
Now, to the good stuff.
I dream of you. I dream of the day I put a diamond on your finger and then, later, a wedding ring. I dream of holding you, touching you, and staring into your eyes while I move inside you. I dream of your smile, your laugh, and the way you toss your hair before your eyes soften when you look at me over your shoulder.
I dream of holding your hand and kissing that ticklish spot below your ear and making you giggle.
I reckon it’s all those little things added together that equal something perfect, at least perfect for me.
I could go on all day, but we’re out on patrol tonight, so I’ve got to jet.
Write soon, baby. Your letters keep me from going crazy.
Love you.
Your John.
The weeks had crawled by without John.
Summer turned into fall, and I had no choice but to settle into a new routine. My time was spent at college and at work, and I was usually glued to the news on TV, searching for anyone with John’s gait.
The stories that began to come out of Kuwait were scary, like Westerners being used as hostages and human shields at arms facilities as a deterrent for Kuwait to blow them up. I heard rumors of torture and even the cold-blooded murders of women and children.
It was hard to determine whether the reports were propaganda or truth. The Iraqi government issued statements saying the stories were lies, used by the Kuwaiti government to stir up sympathy and gather allies, but the pictures spoke for themselves.
What was sad was that even though John was on deployment and basically living in hell, life in small-town America went on. Stevie went down on one knee and popped the question to Kelly, who, of course, screamed yes! The Barrington wedding went off without a hitch, and I actually had a good time.
I danced with my dad, Mayor Henderson, and even Robert, who took me for a dance around the floor. He was nice to me and told me he was there if I needed anything while John was deployed. They made up and were friends again. Robert even told me he’d written to John a couple of times. Admittedly, it put me at ease, along with the fact the Robert I saw down the creek that day seemed to be long gone, and with John away, I needed all the friends I could get.
As I said, life went on, but sadly, I was about to discover that life included death, and that went on in small-town America, too.
Late September in Hambleton was beautiful. It cooled down at night, but the days were still warm enough to walk around without a coat. The leaves turned beautiful shades of brown, red, and the very same gold as John’s eyes. The air was warm but had a clean crispness to it, and the nights began to draw in earlier than before.
I’d taken Bessie to work that Saturday. I was up late late poring over John’s letters that I read daily. I’d slept in and ran out of the house early for work, because although the offices were closed on weekends, the mayor had some filing for me to do.
There was just me in the office, so when an ambulance screamed past, sirens blaring, I jumped up and ran to the window to see what was going on.
It turned down Main Street, and something dark slid through my chest.
And I knew.
The ache started in my throat and soon filled my chest, my belly, my arms, my legs, and my fingers and toes. With tremoring hands, I turned, as if on autopilot, and grabbed my bag, which hung from the back of my chair. I slid the strap onto my shoulder and walked slowly onto the street, locking the door behind me.
The four-minute walk seemed like an hour. My knees had turned to Jell-O, and my stomach had turned to lead. Something, a feeling, told me to turn back. It told me I didn’t want to know. It said if I turned that corner, everything would change.
It was right.
The first thing I saw, of course, was the ambulance with its flashing blue lights bathing the white bricks of my dad’s hardware store in an eerie glow. People milled around outside with their necks craned as they looked inside the doors.
Questions raced through my mind.
What’s happening?
Why are they at the store?
What’s going on?
And lastly… Where’s my dad?
The last question stuck in my mind, and the sight before me suddenly penetrated my brain. A feeling of impending doom washed through me, seizing my lungs, and with a quiet sob, I began to run.
My breath sawed in and out, my arms pumping by my sides as I raced down Main Street. A voice called to me, seemingly in the distance, but it hardly registered; my entire focus was getting to the store and seeing my dad standing behind the counter wearing his grey apron, giving me a disapproving look because I’d made a fool out of myself for racing down the street like a mad woman.
At last, I approached the building, and I slowed because suddenly it hit me that maybe I didn’t want to see it after all. Perhaps I could turn around and pretend it was a typical Saturday. I’d do my filing, go home, and read John’s letters in my room while Mom and Dad watched TV downstairs, but something inside spurred me on.
The crowd of ghouls gathered outside the store talked and whispered amongst themselves, not even noticing me, seeing as they were so damned determined to get their gossip for the day. I slipped through the bodies and stopped in the doorway, taking everything in.
A paramedic was on his knees, cradling Dad’s head while he gave him mouth-to-mouth. The other—also on his knees—was bent over Daddy’s chest, one hand on top of the other, pumping his sternum while he counted.
A sob filled the air, and I realized it was mine. My heart hammered against my ribs painfully because my dad looked straight at me, except his stare was blank and his eyes unseeing.
There was nothing there.
A thousand tiny knives slashed at my insides, and my lungs almost exploded with stabs of pain because I could see something as clear as crystal.
The paramedics could carry on trying to breathe life into my dad all day long, but it wouldn’t do any good.
All feeling left my legs, and I stumbled into a shelf, sending paint brushes scattering across the floor. Then, arms came around my shoulder, and a voice muttering, “Fuck!” sounded in my ear as I was hauled against a warm, broad chest. “Don’t look, Elise,” a deep voice ordered. “Come on, let’s go outside.”
A confused mess of emotions filled my stomach, licking up my chest and into my heart: despair, pain, disbelief, and so many more that I struggled to identify them. My wide-eyed stare caught on the gaggle of town gossips, craning their necks to get a glimpse of my daddy in his most vulnerable state.
Burning, white-hot heat surged through me. “Get out!” I shrieked, pulling away from the man holding me and stomping toward the door. Leaning toward them, I pointed down the street. “Get out! Get out. Get out!”
Strong arms banded around me, and I was pulled into a warm chest that rumbled, “It’s okay, Elise. I’ve got you.”
A sharp stab of pain shot through my heart, my knees gave way, and I sobbed. I would’ve sunk to the floor if I wasn’t being held up.
Another voice rang through my ears. “Robert. What’s going on?”
“It’s Jerome, Dad. I don’t know. Maybe a heart attack?”
“No!” I clapped my hands to my ears. I didn’t want to listen. Hearing the words made it real, but I didn’t want it to be real. It had to be a bad dream. I’d run past Dad while he ate breakfast just a couple of hours before. He seemed fine, healthy, and happy. How could it be? How could he be gone?
“Let’s get you outside, Elise,” Robert said softly. “My dad’s going to get your mom. We’ll meet her at the hospital.”
I looked up imploringly, my fingers digging into the sleeves of Robert’s jacket. “No. I can’t leave him. I don’t want him to be alone. I want to stay with him. Please, Robert, make them bring him back.”
My stare slashed back to Dad, and my heart sank.
The paramedics had stopped working on him. “No!” I shrieked, turning to them and holding my hands out imploringly. “Try again. Please try again.”
One of the men flashed me a grave look, and he shook his head. “We’ve done all we can. I’m sorry.”
Robert tugged me against him, his arms banding around me tightly. Warm hands rubbed up and down my back soothingly, and he began to whisper words of comfort.
Head bowing, I began to sob quietly. My knees buckled again as something powerful hit me square in the chest, making me physically flinch.
My dad was gone.
The funeral was held ten days later.
I sat in the front row of the church with Mom, holding her hand as if she was my lifeline and I was hers. She was the only person keeping me tethered to the earth. We were joined in our grief and our sadness.
It was an aneurism. The doctor told us it was quick, and he wouldn’t have known a thing about it. He didn’t suffer. It helped a little, but it didn’t bring him back, and it didn’t ease the ache splintering my heart.
Mom was doing okay. She was ever practical and seemed to know exactly what to do, whereas me, well, I fell apart, because as much as my daddy was strict and overprotective, he was still the first man I ever loved and the first man who ever loved me.
Staring at the casket—which was thankfully closed—I smiled as I thought about all the beautiful moments he gave me. Whenever I had a bad dream in the night, or scraped a knee, or fell off my bike, it was always him I went to because he simply made me feel so safe and protected. My dad was my security blanket, and without him, I was raw and exposed.
Losing a parent was a fact of life, but I wasn’t ready to let him go. He was only fifty-five; there were so many years ahead of us. Who would walk me down the aisle? Who would be a grandaddy to my kids? And who would grow old alongside my mom?
My world had always been a shade of beautiful sunshine-hazy, but now it had dulled.
But it was only the tip of the iceberg because life was about to take an even bigger nosedive. What I didn’t know then was that the Reaper wasn’t done with me yet.
Not by a long shot.
“What do you mean there’s no money?” Mom whispered.
Pink bloomed across Harry Stafford’s cheeks, and he dipped his chin sagely. “The business hadn’t been doing well last winter when the new Superstore opened in Mapletree. Jerome had to take out a second mortgage to keep everything afloat. Things had picked up, and he’d begun to pay it back, but then…” His voice trailed off.
“He dropped down dead from an aneurism,” I muttered flatly.
Mom’s hand squeezed mine.
“You have a small mortgage, which would be manageable,” Harry continued. “You have the option to keep the store running or sell it. You should have some money left over from the sale so that you can pay back a portion of the mortgage. Jerome had a small life insurance policy he paid into. You’ll be okay.”
“Would it be feasible to keep the store running between us?” I asked. “Maybe bring a manager in?”
Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. All the stores in town are currently feeling the pinch, Elise. The economy isn’t an easy one, and with all the new franchised stores being built in the surrounding towns and undercutting prices, the smaller, family-owned stores like yours are impacted. Think about it; do you truly want the battle? You could both get part-time employment and, between you, pay what’s left of the mortgage without all the stress of keeping a struggling business afloat.”
My spine hit the back of the couch, and I turned to Mom. “I’ll give up college and ask the mayor if I can work at his office. I’ve already learned enough to do what he needs, and I can pick up evening classes later if I need to.”
“No, Elise,” Mom breathed. “We’ll manage somehow.”
I stroked my thumb over hers. “College costs money we haven’t got. I’m not a child anymore. I can step up, Mom. Let me do my bit.”
She paused, and then her eyes slid to Harry. “How much have we got in the insurance policy?”
He handed Mom a piece of paper with calculations written on it. “That figure in red is the insurance payout, and the figures next to it in blue are what’s currently in your checking and savings accounts.”
“It will keep us going for a year,” she murmured. “And it will give us time to sell the store.”
Harry dipped his chin ruefully. “I think you’re doing the right thing. Jerome wouldn’t want you to struggle.”
Mom smiled sadly, her eyes glazing over, probably with a memory. “He worked hard to give us a good life. Maybe we didn’t get everything we wanted, but he provided everything we needed. We were lucky to have that man, even if our time was cut shorter than I wanted.”
Tears welled in my eyes.
Mom’s evident heartbreak made my chest hurt. All she had to keep her warm at night was a lifetime of memories. Dad was pig-headed and always thought he was right, but there was also another side, a loving side that we were lucky to experience for all the years we had him.
I jumped as the doorbell rang.
Harry got to his feet and placed all the papers in his briefcase. “I’ll answer it on my way out.” He gave us a nod goodbye before disappearing through the hallway.
“Where could I get a job, Elise?” Mom asked. “I haven’t worked in the store for years. All I can do is cook, bake, and clean the house.”
My heart clenched. “Mom, it’s okay. I’ll work full-time. We’ll get by.”
Deep murmurs sounded from the front of the house, and footsteps echoed from the tiled hallway. My eyes lifted to see the mayor and Robert Henderson walk into the living room, smiling gently.
“We’ve come to see how you’re doing.” Bert smiled. “Robert mentioned Harry was reading Jerome’s will this morning.”
“Thank you,” Mom said gratefully. “I think we’ll be okay, though we have to get paying jobs, so Elise won’t be able to intern for you anymore.”
“You can stay and work for me,” Mayor Henderson announced. “I was going to hire you anyway. We’ll just be doing it earlier. Robert has decided to rent an office in my building, too. I’m sure he could give you some hours, like a job share.” He glanced at his son. “What do you think?”
“Works for me.” Rob’s eyes landed on my face, and he grinned. “That way, I can keep an eye on you, too. Make sure you’re okay.”
“That’s very kind, Robert,” Mom said softly, getting to her feet. “And thank you, Bert. Jerome would be grateful to know we’re being so well looked after. We’re going to sell the store. I wonder if you could give me some advice.” She got up and started for the kitchen, the mayor following as they talked.
Rob studied my face. “You look tired.”
“I’m not sleeping too well,” I admitted. “I’ve been worrying about the will and Mom. Everything’s up in the air, and I miss John. I wrote to tell him about Dad, but the mail takes so long to get there, I’m not even sure he knows.”
“Has he called his folks?” Robert asked.
“I don’t know. Connie came over yesterday and brought a casserole, but she didn’t mention anything.”
“No Bandit?” he inquired, cocking a blond eyebrow.
I shook my head.
“Selfish asshole,” Rob muttered. “The entire town rallies, and he can’t even pay his respects. I noticed he wasn’t at the funeral, either.”
“Him and Dad didn’t get along,” I explained. “One thing Bandit isn’t is two-faced. He wouldn’t pretend just because Dad passed away.”
“We don’t just go to funerals for the people we lose, Elise,” Robert said softly. “We also go for the people left behind. You’re with John, and one day, you’ll become Bandit’s daughter-in-law. He should’ve shown his support.”
I kept my mouth shut because what could I say? He was right.
Robert’s eyes softened again. “A few of us are going to the movies tonight to see Goodfellas. You should come. It’ll take your mind off things.”
I smiled. Robert had come into his own since Dad died. He and Bert had been our rocks, giving us legal advice and dealing with probate. They even helped organize the funeral.
“Thank you,” I murmured. “But I won’t leave Mom. This is the time we need to stick together.”
“I get it.” Robert got to his feet. “I’ll go see if I can help your mom with any conveyancing questions she may have.” He lowered to his haunches, took my hand, and squeezed it. “See you later?”
My eyebrows drew together. “Yeah, thank you, Robert. I don’t know what we’d have done without you and Bert.”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s what friends are for.” He rose to his full height and gave me an encouraging smile before disappearing through the door.
I sat back with a sigh, my mind going back over our conversation.
Robert had hit the nail on the head about Bandit. I hadn’t seen John’s dad at all, and honestly, it hurt. Things between us were strained, I got that, but my dad died.
A hug from Bandit would’ve gone a long way; he was like a father figure to me, and some paternal support would’ve filled the gaping hole in my heart that Dad left, if only a little.
Still, I had Mom, Connie, Iris, and even Bert and Robert, and I knew John would have been there for me if he could’ve.
Who cared about Bandit? There was enough love around me without his input, and at least I knew where I stood. It had been a while since I’d been at the club, and I’d made the right decision to stay away.
I didn’t need Bandit Stone or the damned Speed Demons.
They could all go to hell.