Vignette #83: Papa

Ian heard his raspberry colored blackberry chirp and he pulled it out of his pocket. He grinned, struggled but managed to push all the right buttons to respond, and slipped it back in his pocket.

“Why Clem…” Saxon Allen shut the office door behind her. “Last time I saw you smile like that the sheep ran away from you for a month.”

“Bessie.” Ian immediately went to her and held her tightly for what seemed like forever. The old friends just stood there holding on while the gamut of emotions flooded their souls.

When they broke they stood only inches from each other, holding both hands and wondering what to say. Somehow, they knew they didn’t have to say anything.

Finally, Saxon broke the silence, but not the stance. “I couldn’t believe it when Blake called and said you were in the office.”

“Work to do. Work to do everywhere.” Ian sighed.

“But you’re okay?” She searched his eyes for hidden signs she knew she probably wouldn’t find. He was too good at disguising them.

“Pretty much.” Ian blushed. “This hour any way. When I don’t have a mode to be in, there may be another story.”

“You know where I am, if the ‘just me’ mode gets a little rough?”

Ian nodded his head. “Saxon, there is so much to tell you.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything, Ian. I haven’t come by, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to.” Saxon kissed his cheek. “Tippy and I…”

Ian laughed silently. “’Nuff said. Can you sit and stay a while?”

She nodded. “Are you sure you don’t have more pressing matters?”

Ian let loose of one of her hands and walked her over to the sofa, sitting closely beside her. She brought her purse to her lap, opened it and pulled out a little box.

“I have a little gift.” She put the box in his hands. “Open it.”

Ian revealed a raspberry colored blackberry. “Well, thank you, but believe it or not I still have the one you gave me. I’ve been through five cell phones, but I still have…”

“It’s actually not for you.” Saxon put her hand on his arm. “I thought he might like one just like his Daddy’s.”

Ian looked at the floor and smiled. His lips were trembling, but he smiled. “Papa. He calls me Papa.”

“Honey, I’ve known for a long time.” Saxon put her arms around him and pulled him close. “But I also knew how hard a decision it was for you. I hate what happened, but I am so glad that you have that part of your heart back.”

“He’s so…perfect.” Ian tried not to, but a few tears fell. “He’s so perfect.”

Saxon just nodded and reached for her purse. She quietly pulled out a tissue. She wiped Ian’s eyes and then her own. “I know.”

“I want you to meet him.”

“Ian, I already have.” Saxon put her fingers to his lips. “Nothing clandestine. Tippy invited me to lunch. You’ll be glad to know, Tippy and I had hot fudge sundaes and Ronnie had chicken salad on whole wheat toast.”

Ian smiled. “Liar.”

“He had a sundae, too, but he’s the only one who actually had lunch and not just dessert.”

“Does he seem…does he seem okay?”

“Ian, he’s wonderful; smart, funny, so much like you it’s almost scary.” Saxon looked in Ian’s eyes. “He’s dealing with everything in a normal, healthy way.”

“I’ve set up some sessions with a child psychologist.”

“That’s good. Ian, you’re going to be a wonderful father.”

“I’m half way there. I’ve got a wonderful kid to start with.” Ian looked at the carpet again. “They did a good job.”

“Yes they did. Look at me.” Saxon took her hand and made Ian look her in the eyes. “You never ever have to wonder if you made the right decision. You did. He’s proof of that.”

Ian nodded his head.

“Ian, honey, can I ask you to do me a favor?” Saxon asked softly.

“Anything.”

“I think you should talk to someone, too.”

“I’m fine.”

“I have no doubt. But Ian, so much has changed so fast and you can’t forget that you’ve suffered this great trauma, too. Ronnie is your priority, so for him, I think you need to talk someone just to help reassure you that you are dealing with everything in a healthy manner as well.”

Ian nodded again.

“Promise me.”

“Promise.”

She handed him a card. “This is my doctor. Call him. It’s kind of like talking to an old friend. You’ll like him.”

“You see a psychiatrist?”

“Ian, this is California. My toothbrush sees a psychiatrist.” She made him laugh. She loved it when she managed to do that.

She tapped the blackberry Ian clutched in his hand. “Now, just do you like did before and hand that over to Blake. He’ll get it all set up. At least someone at your house will be mature enough to not break it, or loose it and didn’t you wash one?”

“I most certainly did not.” Ian looked at her sternly. “I nuked one.” Saxon laughed out loud. “Hey, I thought I put the Hot Pocket on the microwave and the phone in my pocket. I just got a little turned around.”

“Well, I’m sure your son is smart enough to know the difference, even if his father doesn’t. You’ll probably have to show him how to use it.”

“Are you kidding? He’s been texting me all day with Tippy’s. That’s what I was smiling about when you walked in. He’s been keeping me up to date on his day out, although the little booger didn’t mention he was having lunch with the most beautiful woman in Hollywood.”

“So having a son seems to be going well.” Saxon smiled. “How about having a cat?”

“Ian has a cat?” Wella stood in the door. “Ian hates cats. Why does Ian have a cat?”

“Uhm…long story…” Ian stammered. “…Soon. Is there something I can do for you?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I knocked. You just didn’t hear me.”

“It’s fine, Wella.”

“When the two of you get together, you just don’t know the rest of the world exists…” Wella smiled.

“Don’t go there.” Ian and Saxon both said simultaneously and eased a little father apart on the sofa.

“Mr. Turner just called and would like to see you in his office immediately.” Wella told him.

“Did he say want about?”

“No. Just to come right now.”

Ian sat up straight. “Oh. Forgive me, Saxon. Looks like duty calls.”

“No problem. I just dropped in to see how you were doing.” She stood and kissed him on the cheek as he stood.

“You’ll come by the house real soon? I’ll make dinner.”

“Now how could I turn down that invitation?” She took his hand. “Will you at least walk me to the elevator before you run to the principal’s office?”

Ian stuck out his arm. “My pleasure.” Saxon took his arm and they looked up to see Wella still standing in the doorway, grinning. “Wella? If you will excuse us?”

“Oh. Sure.” She looked over her shoulder. “Sure. I’ll tell Mr. Turner you are on your way up.” She said, Ian thought just a little too loudly.

She unblocked the door and disappeared. “Remind me to decaf her very soon. Ladie’s first.”

Saxon giggled. “No you. I like to watch your butt.”

“You dirty little thing.” Ian walked out into the outer office.

As soon as he got out his door people jumped out of everywhere. “Surprise!”

The outer office had huge banner proclaiming “It’s a Boy!” Wella, Blake and David Turner were standing by a huge cake that said “Congratulations! It’s a Hunka Hunka Baby Boy!”

Ian was momentarily speechless, but took a deep breath. “You guys will do anything to get out of work.”

“Are you kidding?” Daryn said. “We didn’t think you’d be in until later in the week. We worked our asses off to pull this together on one day!”

“I’m overwhelmed.” Ian struggled to say. “Thank you. I was wondering how to…you know…did I just blurt it out? Let you find out accidentally?”

Wella put her hands on her hips. “All you had to do was tell Tippy.”

Ian smiled and nodded his head. “My bad.”

David Turner cleared his throat. “I have to say Young Justyn. I am a little disappointed. I thought you’d have a more stylish way of breaking the news to us. Telling Tippy Shores is kind of boring, for you anyway.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, sir. It all happened so fast.”

Saxon looked at him. “Hearing through the Tippy grapevine is so yesterday. I would have thought you could have come up with something better.”

“Yeah.” Blake said, pushing the cart with the cake one side. “We’d have thought you would have done something more like this…”

Ian heard the button to a tape machine click. The office filled with a track for Prince’s “Kiss”. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Ronnie jumped up on a desk in a little jacket holding a microphone.

“Are you in the mood for a surprise?” Ronnie did a dead on imitation of Ian.

The room screamed “Yeah.”

“Good.” Ronnie said. “Cause it’s getting’ hot in here and my Daddy says I’m wearing way too many clothes!” Ronnie ripped off his shirt revealing a tee that said “Hunka Hunka HRT, Jr.” Then the party got rolling.

Vignette #82: Jackpot

“What kin I do, Daddy?” Vonnie was so excited. She exploring places, and there was so much to explore here.

“Your Aunt Sparky and I are going to pack things up in here, so why don’t you go out into the back yard and see if there is anything out there that we might want.” Her father informed her.

“’Kay.” She darted toward the back door.

“Vonnie.” Her father warned. “You stay in the back yard, where I can see you from the door. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

The little blond bombshell was outside at the speed of light. Billy walked over to the screen door and watched her bounce around in the grass for a moment.

“She’s fine.” Sparky assured him and used the tape gun to assemble another empty box. “Any idea when they can start going through what’s left of the Osbourne’s?”

“Maybe next week.” Billy squatted down in the floor and opened the doors beneath the old sink. “Oh man, where to start…where to start.”

“It’s so sad. You never think about the little things you leave behind. You hate to just throw it all away, especially knowing Miss Hilary. Every little dust bunny had some kind of memory or story, and no body thought to write any of it down.”

“The Clary’s said just to let ‘em know when to come and pick up anything that we don’t want.”

“So should we just box up what we’re taking for Ian and let them do the rest or box it all up and separate it into two piles?” Sparky looked out the door for her niece, knowing full well at any given moment she could be playing in the grass or trying to climb up on the roof.

“What do you think?” Billy sat in the floor and began pulling bottles and boxes of cleaners and Brillo pads.

“Normally, I’d say throw stuff like that out.” Sparky pointed to the things Billy was lining up on the linoleum. “But the Clary’s lost everything, so they can probably use it. Let’s make sure it’s all sealed tight, box it up and mark it like we were moving.”

“Good plan.” He made sure a container of Mr. Clean was shut tight and reached for an empty box.

“Here put everything like that in one of these first.” Sparky handed him a box of gallon size Ziplocs. “Have you talked to Ian?”

“A little while this morning.”

“How’s it going?”

“Well, he was going into the office. His neighbor was taking the boy out to buy clothes and stuff. He’s Ian…what can you say? He can juggle six chainsaws in the air, dance a tango and have a nervous breakdown all at the same time and never break a sweat.” Billy combined a few boxes of scouring pads together. “Your boss didn’t mind you taking off work?”

“Are you kidding? This is for Ian. He said to take all the time I needed. Besides, it’s kind of helping me with a story.”

“They finally put you back to reporting?”

“I wish.” Sparky was putting boxes of cereal and oatmeal in her own box. “This is something I’m doing on my own. I thought with the sudden publicity, I do a piece on the history of Lost Mountain.”

“Lost Mountain? God makes mountain, the rest of the world yawns, end of story.” Billy smirked, took some paper towels off the roll before he put it in the box and wiped the now empty cabinet out.

“Actually, there’s a very rich history here, and I hate to repeat myself but no one thought to write it down. Did you know that the original settlers on this mountain were all from the same family who basically lost a bet as to the outcome of the Civil War?”

“Guess that’s where the name comes from. It’s not like you could loose something this big.” Billy opened the bottom in a series of cabinet drawers. “Aw look…all Miz Hil’s special towels. She made every one of these by hand.” He held one up.

“That’s beautiful. Put those in a box for Ian. If nothing else, someday he might want to pass them on.” Sparky reached for one. “You know she made me a set of these for my hope chest.”

“Still hoping?” Billy teased.

“I’m still trying to narrow down my list.” Sparky slapped her brother on the back of the head. “Do you think Ian would mind if you kept a set for Vonnie?”

“He said for us to keep anything we wanted. I still have a little sweater set she knitted for Vonnie when we brought her home from the hospital. You know Miz Hil came over to the house everyday for almost two months when Donna got killed. She made sure we were taken care of.”

“That’s probably where Ian got it.”

“Got what?”

“You know, everyone else first, himself last.” Sparky sighed.

“You still spend hours writing Mrs. Ian Justyn in little hearts in your notebook?” Billy giggled.

“Gave up that dream a long time ago.” Sparky gave her brother a wry smile. “Have you?”

“Don’t go there, Spark.”

“Holy smokes.” Sparky looked around the room. “These old cabinets are so deep. Is there a step stool somewhere? My arms aren’t long enough.”

“Use a chair.” Billy pulled open the second drawer.

Sparky scooted a chair from the table to the counter and stood on it. “Okay, if I don’t come back in an hour, call for the bloodhounds.”

“Is it that deep?”

“Billy, Vonnie could get lost in here.”

Billy stood up and went over to look in the cabinet. “I forgot how these old places have all kinds of hidey holes. Need a flashlight?”

“No, but if I scream, pull me out quick.” Sparky rolled up the sleeves to her sweater. Billy watched the upper half of her body disappear into the cabinet.

“Jackpot!” her voice echoed.

“What?”

“I found where Santa Claus lives!” She started handing wrapped packages out. Billy took them from her and began to stack them on the kitchen counter.

“More?”

“Yup. Hold on.” A few more came out. Billy could hear his sister run her hands around feeling for anything else in the cabinet. “Clear! Coming up for air!”

Sparky withdrew herself from the cavern and sat down on the counter top. “Looks like we found one of her hiding places.” She picked up the wrapped packages and inspected. “I wonder if she even remembered this stuff was back there?”

“Maybe. I found a Christmas gift in the attic from two years ago for Vonnie I forgot about.” Billy began reading the names. “Ian, Ian, Ronnie, Ian, Ian…ooh this one’s for me!”

“Don’t you dare tear that paper!” Sparky caught him in pre-rip. “We are putting all those in a big box and we’ll make sure they are opened…at Christmas.”

Billy gave his sister a scowl. “Fine. I’ll put ‘em in my garage.”

“We’ll put them in my spare bedroom.” Sparky hopped down and grabbed an empty box. They started piling them in. “Wait. This one’s not for Christmas.”

“How can you tell?”

“The wrapping says ‘Happy Birthday’ not ‘Jesus Is Born’.” Sparky read the name. “Ian…September?”

“October.” Billy said.

“The big three oh. This will make the day special for him.” Sparky placed it to the side.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Vonnie slammed back in the screen door. “Look what I found!”

“What is it, Sugar?” Billy left the packages on the counter and got on his knees in front of his hyper four year old.

“It’s a old picher!” She held it for her father. “See!”

Billy looked at it. “Where’d you get this, Vonnie?”

The child suddenly looked guilty. “Nowhere. It just fell outta the sky.”

“I bet.” Billy took it from her and inspected further. “Did you wander next door?”

“No, Daddy. I promise.”

“Then where was this?”

“Laying over there by the field.” Vonnie smiled. “There’s all kinds a stuff laying in the weeds. Shoes, an’ bottles and burnt smelly stuff…and this! Ain’t it cool?”

Sparky took a step towards them. “Must be some things that got blown out of the house when the tank exploded.”

Billy looked at the pitcher. “This was Miss Hillary’s special milk pitcher. She used it on holidays. I wonder how this got in the back yard?”

“Look, Daddy.” Vonnie pointed at it. “There’s writin’ on it.”

“What?” Billy turned it bottom side up. His mouth dropped open and he looked up at his sister. Sparky bent over to read the letters etched into the bottom…I…A…N.

Vignette #80: Reshuffling

He finally had all the cards stacked in a nice, neat deck. God had other plans. Now they were scattered all over the room. Ian took a deep breath and started reshuffling. He didn’t even want to think about the deck his son had to reshuffle. At least Ian’s childhood was just a horrible nightmare, not a gentle, loving lie.

Ian felt something between a shiver and a sigh. He could finally admit that to himself; say it out loud. Son, he had a little boy, a living, breathing ten-year-old boy currently giggling on the floor of the living room playing with that disgusting fur ball.

What now? Breakfast has been made and consumed. The dishes had been washed and put away. All he knew to do was stand there and watch the boy smile. There had to be more to this fatherhood thing than standing around with a half goofy, half terrified grin on his mug.

Ronnie was fed. Check. He was clean and dressed. Check. Time for school…oh God…school. Ronnie needed school. Do you just find a bus and put him on it? Was there some paperwork or shots or something? He was a father now, shouldn’t he know this? Ian put his head in his hands.

“What’s wrong?” His little boy looked up at him, maniacal fuzzy thing still batting away at a shoestring Ronnie was dangling in the air.

“Uhm…no…yes…I don’t know.” Ian said. “School…”

Ronnie frowned. “Oh…I reckon there’s not a bus to Lost Mountain Grammar.”

“Probably not.” Ian sat on the couch, well away from the venomous clutches of the creature. “We should talk about school or talk to somebody. I’m sorry Ronnie, I’ve never done this before. I’m not sure what steps to take so you’re going to have to bear with me.”

“It’s okay.” He said taking a seat right beside him. “I’ve been a kid for a long time, so I kin prob’ly help out some.”

Ian smiled. “That’s good to know.”

“Let’s start at the beginnin’. Okay?” Ronnie looked up at him, petting the cat who had just hopped up in his lap.

“Okay.” He leaned back on the couch. “Just keep that rodent away from me.”

“It’s a kitty, and it won’t hurt cha.”

“Just keep it over there.” Ian said. “Now, since you have all the experience, where do we begin?”

“Well, what should I call you?” Ronnie looked up at Ian’s face. “Mister Ian, don’t seem right no more.”

Ian wasn’t sure how to respond. “What do you want to call me?”

“I already had a daddy.” Ronnie stroked the kitty and looked at the floor. “That didn’t work out too well.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Tain’t your fault.” He said quietly and continued to stroke a purr out of the fuzz ball in his lap.

“But…”

Ronnie put his hand on Ian’s shoulder and turned to look at his face. He said very clearly. “It ain’t your fault.”

Something fatherly popped in Ian’s head and he just rolled with it. “Ronnie, do you want to talk about…”

“No.”

“When you are ready.” Ronnie shook his head. “What about…do you have any questions about me…” Ian struggled a little. “You know…why…or…”

Ronnie leaned back on Ian’s chest. Ian slipped his arm around him. “Maybe.”

“Like?”

“My mamma.” He didn’t look at Ian, just down at the cat rolling on his back in the child’s lap, purring obnoxiously away. “My real mamma.”

Ian sighed. Maybe he wasn’t ready, but he’d opened the can. He had no choice to let the worms out. “Taylor, her name was Taylor.”

Ronnie kept his eyes forward. “My mamma’s sister?”

“Yes.”

“We loved each other very much.”

“She died.” He rolled his head back and looked up in Ian’s face.

“Yes, when you were born.” Ian wrapped his arms around the boy and kissed him on the forehead. “And your Mamma and your Daddy couldn’t have kids. They’d tried so hard, so many times. It…it just seemed the best thing for you.”

Ronnie looked back down and nodded his head. “I unnerstand.” He scratched the cat’s belly. “Do I have any brothers and sisters?”

“Uh…no.”

“Oh.” He sounded a little disappointed. “You ain’t married. Gotta girlfriend?”

Ian smiled. “No. Is that important?”

“Not unless it’s important to you.”

“I think I just need to concentrate on you for now.”

Ronnie rolled his head back and looked at Ian again. “Papa…you kin be my Papa. How’s that?”

“I like it. Is that okay with you?”

“Suits me right fine.”

“Me, too.” Ian squeezed his son’s shoulders. “Now, what else do we need to talk about?”

“Well, I guess there’s some stuff you need to know.”

“Like?”

“Well, I get a hunnerd dollars a week fer my allowance. I don’t have a bedtime and school I jus’ kinda do when the mood hits me.”

“I see.” Ian was glad the child couldn’t see that he was trying not to laugh out loud. “Well, things have changed.”

“I was afraid of that.”

“Figured.” Ian took a deep breath. “You get five dollars a week, if you do your chores and school is something you do unless you’re sick and I need to see blood or body fluid as proof.”

“Gross.”

“That thing just touched me.”

“Ten a week and it’ll never happen again.” Ronnie bargained.

“I’ll get used to it.”

“I was afraid of that, too.”

Ian gently turned to boy around to look him directly in the eyes. “Look Ronnie, there are a lot of things we are going to have to play by ear. We both have a lot of adjusting to do. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes sir.”

“Let’s always be honest with each other and I think we’ll be just fine.”

“Coolness.” Ronnie scrunched up his nose. “Did I say that right?”

Ian smiled. “Yes. Now, here’s the deal. I need to figure out about school, so I’m sure with what’s happened no one from social services will come beating down the door…”

“What’s social services?”

“An organization that…” Ian thought about that a moment. “They’re a group of people who…” Ronnie cocked his head. “Someone neither one of us wants to tick off.”

“’kay”

“Anyway, I’ll need to call your old school and see about a new school, but until then it’s probably better for you to be at home with me.”

“Yeah.” Ronnie tried to look responsible. “That sounds right.”

“As far as allowance goes, five dollars for now, more when you earn it. I’m going to try not to spoil you.”

“I’m real hard to spoil.”

“I’m sure. Now I’m know there are going to be times when we are going to argue and get mad at each other, but let’s always remember that no matter what we’ve got each other.”

“An’ we love each other.”

Ian grinned, suddenly knowing the boy was going to be impossible not to spoil. He was going to have to work extremely hard not to be manipulated, but he knew he was a good kid. “And we love each other, no matter what. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Now what?” Ian asked.

“What’s my chores?”

Ian thought a moment. “Well, make your bed. Pick up your clothes. Keep that evil purring thing away from me, and help me keep the house clean.”

“I kin do that. What else?”

“What did you used to do?” Ian pulled the boy totally in his lap. “You got paid a hundred dollars a week, you must have had a mighty big list of chores.”

“Oh, it was just awful, but since I’m taking a cut in pay, you’ll have to take a cut in chores.”

“I figured that.”

Ronnie took a deep breath. “I reckon I kin still gather the eggs in the mornin’ and I’ll help out in the garden but only ever other day, an’ only cause I kinda like doin’ that.”

“I see. Looks like we have a problem.” Ronnie sat up and turned to look at him. “We don’t have any chickens and other than a few flowers there’s no garden.”

“No chickens? No garden?” Ronnie was flabbergasted. “What do we eat?”

“We go to the grocery store.”

“Fer ever thing?”

“Pretty much.”

Ronnie turned around and lay back against Ian’s chest. “That don’t make a lot a sense, but awright.”

“You can keep the grocery list and go shopping with me and help put everything away when we get home.”

“Deal.”

“Anything else?”

“I think that’s about it fer now. You got any questions fer me?”

“I’m sure I do, but…” Ian thought a second. “Do you like your room?”

“It’s fine.”

“Just fine?”

“Well, it’s sa big.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Well, no. It probably needs a big teevee in it and one of them TiVos. You know, just ta fill up all that space.”

“That’s sounds about right.”

“I thought so.” Ronnie agreed.

“Until you save your money to buy the big teevee and the TiVo, you’ll be able to make do with what we’ve got, won’t you?”

Ronnie turned and looked at him. “Didn’t slip that one passed ya, did I?”

“Uh uh.”

“I’m a kid. It’s my job.”

“I’m a Papa, it’s my job.”

They were interrupted by a knock at the back door.

“Should I get that?” Ronnie asked.

“If you want to.”

“Kin I charge extry for it?”

“No.”

Ronnie put the cat on the floor. “Cain’t blame me for tryin’.” He disappeared into the kitchen.

Vignette #79: Blatant

He was black and blue. Every move he made throbbed. He didn’t understand why they were making him stay. He was fine, nothing broken. They wouldn’t even let him get out of bed, let alone leave the room.

The last thing he remembered was Lucille’s scream and glass flying everywhere, showers of glass like hard rain. There were flashes of other things, but nothing clear, nothing as clear as that piercing scream.

Someone saying, “He’s alive”, Lucille barking some orders with a white cloth turning red on her head, and Jamie…he remembered something about Jamie. It was all a confusing mess. Where were they going? Why were they going? What exactly happened and where was everyone now?

“I see you’re still breathing.”

David looked up and there she stood; Lucille, bandage across her head and a black eye. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

“Not disappointed, relieved.” She sighed. “One less tale I’ve got to spin.” She walked over and to his surprise tenderly straightened the bedclothes. “Do you remember anything?”

“Very little.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” She pulled a chair up beside the bed and eased herself uncomfortably down. “No matter what happens, no matter what anyone asks you, you don’t remember a thing.”

“That should be easy.” He looked at her, always the spinning webs, but always to keep things headed in the direction they needed them to be. “Jamie?”

“Pretty bad.” She looked at the floor. “Went through the windshield. Even if he makes it, he’ll never be a leading man again.” She looked back at him with cold concern. “Good thing the movie’s in the can.”

“Do they know…?”

“The press? Only about you, so far…he’s an unidentified companion. I’ll keep it that way as long as I can.”

“What if?”

“We’ll deal with that only if we have to.” Lucille leaned close. “Look, I know you think I’m heartless, but there’s a loose cannon running around and as long as the paper’s don’t know about Jamie, especially what we were doing in the car…”

“What were we doing in the car?” He asked.

“You really don’t remember?” She finally believed him. “That’s good. If you remember, keep your mouth shut until you talk to me.”

David painfully nodded his head. “When can I go home?”

“Don’t know, maybe tomorrow but I’m pushing for a few days. It might get nasty and if you’re here you can’t be connected.”

“What are you planning?”

“Cleaning up another mess.” She smiled and stood. “It’s what I do, don’t concern yourself. Just make sure you don’t get released until I say you get released.”

He nodded his head. “Will they keep me posted on my…uh… unidentified companion?”

“Only if you ask.” She walked toward the door. “If you do, make sure you refer to him as the driver.”

“The driver?”

“New guy we just hired. He’d only just started that morning.”

“Just started?”

“Yeah, explains why the idiot didn’t make a right turn in the dark. Blatant stupidity equals no more questions to answer. Understood?”

“Understood.”

Lucille reached for the door.

“Wait…where’s she?”

“That’s the loose cannon.” Lucille smiled and was almost out the door.

“Mr. Turner?” The nurse was standing there when Lucille opened the door. “Are you feeling up to a phone call?”

David looked at Lucille for permission. She stepped right in. “Who from?”

The nurse gave her a dirty look. “His wife.” She had obviously already tangled with Lucille and lost.

“He’ll take it.” She snapped and marched right back over to his bedside, as the nurse shut the door.

The heavy black phone by the bed clanged. Lucille picked it up and held it for David, pressing in closely to hear the conversation.

“Hello.”

“David?”

“Yes.”

“I know she’s listening.” She said sternly on the other end. “That’s fine. It’ll be the last time.”

“Where are you?” Lucille hissed.

“Shut up.” She hissed back. “David, listen closely.”

“I am.” He said.

“Lucille?”

“What?”

“This is the last thing you’ll ever hear from me, after this I’m gone.”

“Promises, promises…” Lucille sneered.

“David. You have a son, a perfect baby boy. Goodbye.” The line went dead.

David and Lucille looked at each other, clunky receiver between them.