20
Rowan
Undercover
Vivian was on the phone again. The closer they got to the gala, the more Vivian lived with it in her hand. Rowan wasn’t sure why throwing a party was so complicated.
“OK, well, we’ve run into this before,” she said, walking by on her way to the kitchen. “It’s an insurance issue. We can add a rider, but honestly, the venue should cover it.”
There was silence while Vivian listened.
Rowan poured them both a glass of wine, leaned back on the couch and eyed the plastic-draped dining room through the archway.
The house had inched closer to done, but they weren’t out of the plastic yet and Thanksgiving loomed ominously on the calendar.
He was also worried about what to tell his brothers about Vivian.
He wanted her at Thanksgiving, but his hesitant initiation of the topic had been interrupted by a gala phone call.
Melissa had always insisted on going to her family’s house for the few holidays he was home, but Vivian hadn’t mentioned the holidays, or any future plans with him at all.
He was trying not to let that bother him, but it really did.
Rowan’s phone chirped, and he looked down to see a video of Olly and a woman who must be the new nanny, Chloe.
They were jumping in a mud puddle in the backyard, wearing big rubber boots.
He could hear Forest laughing in the audio.
Olly looked elated. Chloe looked up, her purple hair flashing out from under the hood of an old military poncho.
She was prettier than he’d expected, and her grin was as big as Olly’s.
Rowan didn’t know what to think about that. The last time Rowan had tried to take Olly out in the rain, Forest had refused, saying that Olly would get sick. Apparently, Chloe possessed secret magic rain-dancing powers.
Ash’s response popped in after the video.
Aw! I remember when Rowan would do that with me.
Rowan laughed. Being eight years older than Ash meant remembering a lot of his brother’s childhood markers.
I’ll still hang out in puddles with you, bud. I mean, we’ll probably have to do push-ups, but…
And I remember doing exactly what I’m doing now. Staying inside as the only sane brother.
Ash’s laughing emoji popped up instantly on both Rowan’s and Forest’s text.
“Well, yes, I appreciate that she wants that, but no, I really will not be telling a bunch of veterans who have concealed carry permits that they can’t carry legal firearms at our event.”
Rowan nearly choked on his sip of wine. Vivian looked up and winked at him.
“Wait, she said, what? Who is this person? Seriously, is she one of those people who find Bob threatening?”
Rowan was now thoroughly confused. He didn’t think Vivian had ever mentioned Bob before. He shook his head and went back to the family text thread. He hesitated over his next message but plunged ahead.
Looks like Chloe is working out.
He could see Forest’s response bubbles percolating. Then they stopped. Then they restarted.
She’s been a big help.
“No, don’t call Chappie. That would be a disaster. Do not let a former combat chaplain start talking to some neo-liberal hippie woke wench. He’ll have her recruited in no time. His brainwashing is way more powerful than hers. Just have her call me if she won’t fall in line.”
Rowan hadn’t met Chappie yet, but the former Army Chaplain sounded hilarious.
Another text came through on a different thread. It was Ash.
OK, I’m pro Olly puddle jumping, but WTF? Is this Chloe chick slipping Forest anti-anxiety meds in his Red Bull or something?
Works for me. And apparently for Forest. Glad he’s easing back.
Yeah… But…
The message came with a monkey scratching his head and Rowan gave it a thumbs up. He agreed with Ash that Forest seemed to be reacting uniquely to Chloe, but he wasn’t about to throw up any roadblocks. Whatever Chloe was doing, Rowan wanted her to keep doing it.
Vivian hung up and dropped onto the couch beside him with a loud ugh, flopping her limbs out in exhaustion.
“You going to make it, baby?”
“No. I mean, probably yes. We somehow manage it every year. But I’ve got to get people out of the habit of calling me. Most of the time, they already know what the answers are. They’re just scared to do it without backup.”
Rowan grunted in acknowledgment. “Yeah, that’s tough. You need it while they’re learning, but there comes a point where you need them to stand on their own.”
“They have Ashley now, but they keep calling me!”
He handed her a glass of wine, and she took a long sip and worked herself around until she leaned against his chest. “Well, work in progress, I guess,” she said after another drink.
“Who’s Bob, by the way?” he asked wrapping an arm around her.
“What?” Vivian tilted her head back until she looked up at him from his chest.
“You asked if she was one of those people who was scared of Bob?”
Vivian burst out laughing and her wine bounced precariously on her stomach.
“Bob is the dummy. You know, the punching dummy? The pink man on a pole that people use in martial arts classes. He’s just a head and torso. We call him Bob.”
“OK... Bob I can get with. But why would anyone be scared of Bob?”
“No idea. But one time I took a yoga class with the girls at Christine’s gym and the instructor thought Bob was bringing negative energy into class with his threatening expression, so she put a scarf over his head.”
“I...” Rowan found he was literally speechless. Vivian pointed up at him and laughed.
“Yes! Your face! Oh, God! That’s the face I made!” She laughed hard enough that tears leaked out the corners of her eyes. “I could not go back to that class!”
“I don’t think I would have made it through class in the first place,” he said.
Vivian’s chuckles subsided. “It was a good workout, but it was... OK, you can’t repeat this anywhere. I’m as liberal, feminist, and allied as I can be. But I firmly believe that there needs to be some amount of... aggression, balls to the wall, fuck you mother fucker attitude to get things done.”
“If you’re expecting an argument then you’ve come to the wrong place.”
“Intensity and competition make things fun.”
“Again... Not going to argue.”
“There is a time and place for being quiet and peaceful, and then there are times for mosh pits. You cannot and should not make every place a Zen garden. And frankly, the people who feel threatened by an inanimate object because they think it represents violence are not my people, and I don’t understand them. Also, they’re pussies.”
“Hoo-rah, baby,” he said, laughing, as he brushed her hair out of her face.
“The last part is the part you can’t repeat,” she said, looking up at him.
“I actually got that,” he said.
“Non-profit people don’t like it when I say stuff like that. It’s what makes Victory Mission kind of a step-child in the non-profit world. I think it’s why we’ve been having such a hard time finding a new Executive Director.”
She always said we about the Victory Mission. He thought it was cute that she took her volunteering so seriously.
“Cultural conflict,” he agreed. “Military attitudes do not always translate well into the civilian sphere.”
Vivian made an agreeing noise, but her phone chirped and pulled her attention away from him.
“Your Halloween thing seems to be coming along,” she said, scrolling through a text. “That will be a nice fun thing for us the end of the month.”
“Will it?” he asked.
She looked up in confusion.
“Seems like at work there’s just you and me. No us.”
Vivian sighed deeply. “Yeah, well, work also has Belinda who literally made a little speech at the last staff meeting about how everyone needed to be careful of liability with regards to romantic entanglements with clients.”
“I’m not a client. At best I’m contracted to Howard personally since he owns the building.”
“And since he’s been pushing me to do more tenant management that line is getting even blurrier. Look, I just need to tell Howard and ask how he wants to handle it at work.”
“I don’t really like having my relationship dictated by Howard.”
“It’s not!”
“I can’t kiss you in the elevator, so yeah, it kind of is. It’s been almost a month. I understand wanting to be discreet, but it’s starting to feel like we’re hiding.”
Vivian wrinkled her nose. “Yeah. I know.”
“And we’re not even going to the gala together.”
“Well, even if we were out, we still wouldn’t be,” said Vivian. “Unless you want to show up and volunteer your cute little tushy for some work hours.”
“Which I wouldn’t mind doing if you thought it was worthwhile, but we’re not even sitting together.”
“I have to present! So I have to be at the front table! Once the speeches are all done then I will be all yours. I promise!”
“Uh-huh.” Rowan wasn’t sure what he wanted.
He’d told himself this was a fling, but every time she said Mr. Valkyrie in public it rubbed him like sand paper.
Every time she said it in the bedroom, it made him hot as hell, but that was probably a personal kink not a relationship issue.
If it was a fling, it didn’t matter who she did or didn’t tell.
He needed to leave it alone, but he kept picking at it like a scab.
Vivian looked like she was about to say something, but her phone dinged again.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she muttered shaking her head at the message and promptly dropping her phone onto the coffee table.
“The event venue has exploded?”
“Charles Tate Senior is re-doing his will for the fourteenth time. Seriously, he’s been dinking with it for a month. It’s never getting signed because he keeps making adjustments. And then his son talks him out of the changes.”
“Ah, Chucky. Such a winner,” said Rowan, lifting his glass.
“More like such a fucking clowndick,” said Vivian and Rowan nearly spit wine onto her face.
“I’m serious. Every time his father tries to leave money to anyone else Chucky whines more than a dog.
Someone needs to get him a fresh cup of suck it the fuck up—he is not owed that money in any way.
That guy is such a waste of space that he makes me think he should have been a blowjob. ”
“Baby!” laughed Rowan, laughing so hard that it made her head bounce.
Vivian giggled. “Too much?”
“Oh, my God. Mark needs to hear that one,” Rowan said, reaching for his phone. He’d had to add an office slack channel just for Vivian’s quotables and now Who said it – Vivian or Drill Sergeant? was a favorite polling question.
“I’ve got more. Because, believe me, when it comes to Chucky, I could keep going.”
Moments later, a text from Mark popped through.
“Mark says you missed out on your calling as a drill instructor.”
Vivian laughed. “It never would have worked out. I don’t like push-ups.”
“No one likes push-ups.”
“Yes, but I’m very competitive so I would have had to do more so that no one would be able to show me up. And then I would have been mad that I was doing push-ups.”
“The push-ups that you gave yourself?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“I am dating a very strange woman.”
“Well, you saw my hair and you still decided to go for it. So… I mean… I don’t know what you thought you were getting.”
“A strange girl with fantastic lingerie. The filthy mouth is a bonus.”
Vivian giggled and looked up at him. “I really will tell Howard about us. I’m sorry it’s been taking so long.”
“It’s your workplace. Sorry I’m pushing.”
“No, I get it. You are not the sneaky link kind of guy.”
“I literally don’t know what that is.”
“You like to be upfront about your life. You don’t mind being private, but you don’t like sneaking around.”
“Yes,” said Rowan, feeling relieved that she understood. Although, he suspected that she probably wasn’t being technically accurate about the definition of sneaky link.
“I’ll tell Howard. It won’t change where I’m sitting at the gala, but we will be able to dance and feed each other dessert or whatever.”
“Are you just setting me up to feed you chocolate?” Rowan asked, suddenly suspicious.
“Mmm… Maybe?” she asked with a grin. “Is that going to be a problem?”
“Never,” said Rowan, leaning down to kiss her.