It had seemed like forever rather than a mere three weeks and some odd days. Ian was aquiver in anticipation as Ripley and Jesse drove him through almost forgotten roads to his front door. For the first time in his life Ian knew what home felt like and he had missed it.
Now there it was, his front door in sight and unobstructed from his position in the back seat of his new car. There it was, homey little stoop with flowers that he and his son had planted together trying their best to bud out. It was the most beautiful sight he’d seen in such a long time.
When the car came to a stop, it took every ounce of control Ian had not to race from the car, throw open the door, lock himself in and everyone out. He knew that was impossible. First and foremost he couldn’t run fast enough. He was also well aware of the fact that behind that door was a group of very well meaning, loving people that would be surrounding him like vultures on a fresh kill.
He hated feeling like that. It was one of the drawbacks of family, that new group he suddenly found himself meshed with. They would dote and coddle and drive him absolutely crazy. He really just wanted to be left alone, but he knew that it wasn’t possible. He didn’t resent the people in his life, only the situation he found himself in.
He wanted to be angry. He was, but he had not been allowed to vent it. He wanted to slam his fists and break things. Unfortunately he had neither the strength nor the basic manual dexterity to get much of that accomplished. The time would come. He was due and counting on one heck of a private hissy fit.
“Here let me help you.” Jesse said rushing to the car door and trying to help Ian get out of the car.
Ian put up his hand, the one not still encased in plaster. “Let me do it or at least try.”
Jesse smiled and nodded. He stepped back, but obviously not too far that he couldn’t be right there if something should happen. Ian sensed a change in the young man. He had taken a personal interest in Ronnie and, although a daily presence at the hospital, he was oddly silent.
Ian had to admit that getting out of the car was a whole lot harder than getting into it. The basic physical change was that now every breath wasn’t painful, a totally different kind of hurt had taken over—helplessness. His body had been dormant for three weeks. His balance was shaky at best, energy only happened in short bursts and he had to think carefully about every step, twist and turn.
He managed to get two feet on the ground. Using the car door as a fulcrum he pulled himself to his feet. Ian took a deep breath. The series of movements had zapped all his energy for the hour, but he was not about to admit defeat.
Ripley appeared in his peripheral vision and subtly slipped Ian’s new best friend in sight. Ian let go of the door with one hand and grabbed the black cane. He nodded, signaling that he was ready to head for the door. Holding the cane with his left hand, he positioned it to be the support for his right leg, knee encased in a heavy brace.
In fact Ian’s right side was pretty much stapled, plastered and wired back into place. He took a heavy “toddle” towards his front door. He looked ahead, aware of the eager anticipation peaking out behind every curtain of the house. He appreciated the restraint.
It was a long walk that twenty-five, thirty feet up the sidewalk. He had to stop a couple of times but he made it. His goal for the day was to make it inside the house and to the couch without any help. After that, he’d happily acquiesce to being waited on hand and foot the rest of the day.
There would be no party. He’d put the kibosh on that the moment he even suspected Tippy was daring to put one together. There would be lots of family and friends running in and out of the house, but the last thing he wanted were paper streamers and cake. He didn’t feel like celebrating something that should have been routine.
Ian teetered just a bit getting up on the stoop. He’d sort of lost his balance and twisted around to see both Ripley and Jesse frozen in terror like parents watching a baby take his first step. They didn’t think it was funny. He thought it was a riot.
“Keys, please.” Ian said when he got to the door. “Please, tell me someone has keys.”
“Oh, sure.” Jesse produced a set from his pockets, jiggling them until the proper one was produced.
Ian was once again thankful for the restraint of those on the other side of the door. Tippy and Ronnie both were probably being held down to keep them from running to it, throwing it open and carrying him the rest of the way in. He slipped the key in the deadbolt and heard the click. It was a beautiful sound.
“Uh, Ian.” Ripley stopped him before he shoved the door open. “You need to put the code in now or the door won’t open.”
“What?”
“The new security system…” he reminded him. “Everyone who has a key has their own code. For now, yours is your birth date; month, day and four digit year.”
“Not a good code if everyone knows it.” Ian smirked.
“I’ll show you how to reset it later on, and when you are ready I’ll explain how it works. For now just put in your birth date like a good boy and let’s get you inside.” Ripley shifted his feet.
Ian nodded his head. He was too tired to come up with a good comeback. He knew Ripley knew it. Ian stood looking at the keypad.
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten you’re birthday?” Jesse gently teased.
“Uhm…no…” Ian hated to admit defeat, but he didn’t see he had a choice. “I can’t lean on this damned cane and punch in the code at the same time.”
“Not a problem.” Ripley swiftly moved in close enough to put his big sturdy hands to each side of Ian’s waist, giving him the balance he needed to free one finger, lift the cane and punch in his birthday. As soon as he put his weight back on the cane, Ripley released him.
The door sort of beeped and drifted open. Ian pushed it the rest of the way with his left foot and looked in. “I’m home.” He sighed as he toddled a step inside to his foyer. It was too quiet. If he got the rest of the way in and people started jumping out from all over and screaming “Surprise” he would find the energy to have that hissy fit he’d been wanting to throw.
He heard Jesse and Ripley enter the house behind him, and Ian concentrated on the next few feet to the couch. Damn, it looked so good.
Ronnie was standing between the window wall and the couch, looking very much like a Weeble. He was admirably maintaining control. Someone had the aforethought to keep Tippy totally out of the living room, but Ian could sense her holding her breath and biting the back of her hand.
Okay, he was there all he had to do was turn around, aim his rear at the cushions and plop. Easier said than done. It took him a while, he just had to imagine one foot was nailed to the floor, and use his other to step his body around. The last completed movement seemed to take forever, and he heard his son, Jesse and Ripley all take a breath when he finally started to sit.
Ronnie did come over, and push an ottoman within his father’s reach so he could lift and rest his leg on it. As soon as that leg was up, and his butt was down all bets were off. People crawled out of the woodwork like roaches when the lights go out.
He was kissed, hugged, greeted, fluffed, lap blanketed and babied. He was too tired to put up a fuss. Everyone was trying very hard not to fuss, which of course made it all seem fussier.
It was good to be home. It was good to be surrounded by the warmth of love that radiated from that big boisterous group of people now trying to anticipate his every move without being noticed. It would take a while for him to get comfortable with it all.
They had come and gone unceasing to his hospital room. They had sent flowers, candy, cards and gifts. They had encouraged him and infuriated him by helping him stay within the limits of his confinement. Those limitations had not been erased only a longer chain had been linked to the doghouse.
Ronnie had made gingerbread. Tippy did her best to make a pot of tea. Jesse ordered pizza and the Tyson boys put on a “Welcome home Papa Ian” show. Ian laughed and sighed did a really good job convincing everyone he was glad to be home.
Everytime he changed position or rooms the hustle and bustle stopped dead in its tracks. Ian understood. It made him hold his breath, too, but he had to do it. He had to exercise the freedoms that Blue Richards had so thoughtlessly stolen from him.
He was tired of being the victim. It seemed to him that his entire life he had been the victim of a series of attacks, from within and without, and he was tired of it. Ian was determined as he regained his strength and his independence that he would never be a victim again, nor would he let his son be a proxy to it all.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Chapter #35: Something Beautiful
It had seemed like forever rather than a mere three weeks and some odd days. Ian was aquiver in anticipation as Ripley and Jesse drove him through almost forgotten roads to his front door. For the first time in his life Ian knew what home felt like and he had missed it.
Now there it was, his front door in sight and unobstructed from his position in the back seat of his new car. There it was, homey little stoop with flowers that he and his son had planted together trying their best to bud out. It was the most beautiful sight he’d seen in such a long time.
When the car came to a stop, it took every ounce of control Ian had not to race from the car, throw open the door, lock himself in and everyone out. He knew that was impossible. First and foremost he couldn’t run fast enough. He was also well aware of the fact that behind that door was a group of very well meaning, loving people that would be surrounding him like vultures on a fresh kill.
He hated feeling like that. It was one of the drawbacks of family, that new group he suddenly found himself meshed with. They would dote and coddle and drive him absolutely crazy. He really just wanted to be left alone, but he knew that it wasn’t possible. He didn’t resent the people in his life, only the situation he found himself in.
He wanted to be angry. He was, but he had not been allowed to vent it. He wanted to slam his fists and break things. Unfortunately he had neither the strength nor the basic manual dexterity to get much of that accomplished. The time would come. He was due and counting on one heck of a private hissy fit.
“Here let me help you.” Jesse said rushing to the car door and trying to help Ian get out of the car.
Ian put up his hand, the one not still encased in plaster. “Let me do it or at least try.”
Jesse smiled and nodded. He stepped back, but obviously not too far that he couldn’t be right there if something should happen. Ian sensed a change in the young man. He had taken a personal interest in Ronnie and, although a daily presence at the hospital, he was oddly silent.
Ian had to admit that getting out of the car was a whole lot harder than getting into it. The basic physical change was that now every breath wasn’t painful, a totally different kind of hurt had taken over—helplessness. His body had been dormant for three weeks. His balance was shaky at best, energy only happened in short bursts and he had to think carefully about every step, twist and turn.
He managed to get two feet on the ground. Using the car door as a fulcrum he pulled himself to his feet. Ian took a deep breath. The series of movements had zapped all his energy for the hour, but he was not about to admit defeat.
Ripley appeared in his peripheral vision and subtly slipped Ian’s new best friend in sight. Ian let go of the door with one hand and grabbed the black cane. He nodded, signaling that he was ready to head for the door. Holding the cane with his left hand, he positioned it to be the support for his right leg, knee encased in a heavy brace.
In fact Ian’s right side was pretty much stapled, plastered and wired back into place. He took a heavy “toddle” towards his front door. He looked ahead, aware of the eager anticipation peaking out behind every curtain of the house. He appreciated the restraint.
It was a long walk that twenty-five, thirty feet up the sidewalk. He had to stop a couple of times but he made it. His goal for the day was to make it inside the house and to the couch without any help. After that, he’d happily acquiesce to being waited on hand and foot the rest of the day.
There would be no party. He’d put the kibosh on that the moment he even suspected Tippy was daring to put one together. There would be lots of family and friends running in and out of the house, but the last thing he wanted were paper streamers and cake. He didn’t feel like celebrating something that should have been routine.
Ian teetered just a bit getting up on the stoop. He’d sort of lost his balance and twisted around to see both Ripley and Jesse frozen in terror like parents watching a baby take his first step. They didn’t think it was funny. He thought it was a riot.
“Keys, please.” Ian said when he got to the door. “Please, tell me someone has keys.”
“Oh, sure.” Jesse produced a set from his pockets, jiggling them until the proper one was produced.
Ian was once again thankful for the restraint of those on the other side of the door. Tippy and Ronnie both were probably being held down to keep them from running to it, throwing it open and carrying him the rest of the way in. He slipped the key in the deadbolt and heard the click. It was a beautiful sound.
“Uh, Ian.” Ripley stopped him before he shoved the door open. “You need to put the code in now or the door won’t open.”
“What?”
“The new security system…” he reminded him. “Everyone who has a key has their own code. For now, yours is your birth date; month, day and four digit year.”
“Not a good code if everyone knows it.” Ian smirked.
“I’ll show you how to reset it later on, and when you are ready I’ll explain how it works. For now just put in your birth date like a good boy and let’s get you inside.” Ripley shifted his feet.
Ian nodded his head. He was too tired to come up with a good comeback. He knew Ripley knew it. Ian stood looking at the keypad.
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten you’re birthday?” Jesse gently teased.
“Uhm…no…” Ian hated to admit defeat, but he didn’t see he had a choice. “I can’t lean on this damned cane and punch in the code at the same time.”
“Not a problem.” Ripley swiftly moved in close enough to put his big sturdy hands to each side of Ian’s waist, giving him the balance he needed to free one finger, lift the cane and punch in his birthday. As soon as he put his weight back on the cane, Ripley released him.
The door sort of beeped and drifted open. Ian pushed it the rest of the way with his left foot and looked in. “I’m home.” He sighed as he toddled a step inside to his foyer. It was too quiet. If he got the rest of the way in and people started jumping out from all over and screaming “Surprise” he would find the energy to have that hissy fit he’d been wanting to throw.
He heard Jesse and Ripley enter the house behind him, and Ian concentrated on the next few feet to the couch. Damn, it looked so good.
Ronnie was standing between the window wall and the couch, looking very much like a Weeble. He was admirably maintaining control. Someone had the aforethought to keep Tippy totally out of the living room, but Ian could sense her holding her breath and biting the back of her hand.
Okay, he was there all he had to do was turn around, aim his rear at the cushions and plop. Easier said than done. It took him a while, he just had to imagine one foot was nailed to the floor, and use his other to step his body around. The last completed movement seemed to take forever, and he heard his son, Jesse and Ripley all take a breath when he finally started to sit.
Ronnie did come over, and push an ottoman within his father’s reach so he could lift and rest his leg on it. As soon as that leg was up, and his butt was down all bets were off. People crawled out of the woodwork like roaches when the lights go out.
He was kissed, hugged, greeted, fluffed, lap blanketed and babied. He was too tired to put up a fuss. Everyone was trying very hard not to fuss, which of course made it all seem fussier.
It was good to be home. It was good to be surrounded by the warmth of love that radiated from that big boisterous group of people now trying to anticipate his every move without being noticed. It would take a while for him to get comfortable with it all.
They had come and gone unceasing to his hospital room. They had sent flowers, candy, cards and gifts. They had encouraged him and infuriated him by helping him stay within the limits of his confinement. Those limitations had not been erased only a longer chain had been linked to the doghouse.
Ronnie had made gingerbread. Tippy did her best to make a pot of tea. Jesse ordered pizza and the Tyson boys put on a “Welcome home Papa Ian” show. Ian laughed and sighed did a really good job convincing everyone he was glad to be home.
Everytime he changed position or rooms the hustle and bustle stopped dead in its tracks. Ian understood. It made him hold his breath, too, but he had to do it. He had to exercise the freedoms that Blue Richards had so thoughtlessly stolen from him.
He was tired of being the victim. It seemed to him that his entire life he had been the victim of a series of attacks, from within and without, and he was tired of it. Ian was determined as he regained his strength and his independence that he would never be a victim again, nor would he let his son be a proxy to it all.
Sparky Jarvis opened the door to her apartment, dropped her shoes by the door one at a time and sighed from the sheer pleasure of finally being home. It had been a strenuous day full of the frustrations of only answering phones and the joy of trying to find answers to some questions Ian had asked her to look in to.
“Hi, honey. I’m home!” She called out as she plopped on the couch and put her feet up.
“Dinner is almost ready.” The voice came back from the kitchen.
“Aunt Sparky!” Bellowed from a room somewhere in the house followed by the unmistakable energetic footsteps of her niece. She was practically blindsided as Vonnie leaped onto her and covered her with little girl hugs and kisses. “Are ya home?”
“No, honey. I’m just a figment of your imagination.” Sparky hugged and kissed back signaling the end of the endearments. “Did you have a good day?”
“Yah huh.” Vonnie nodded her head and pounced on the couch beside her. “Daddy and me went to the grocery store and he let me pick out dinner.”
“Mmm, corn dogs and Cheerwine?” Sparky asked.
“An’ mac ‘n’ cheese.” She put her hands on her hips. “How’d you know?”
“I’m just good at guessing.” She looked up and smiled at her brother, now appearing from the kitchen.
“Vonnie, go wash up for dinner.” He said watching his genetic shooting star whoosh from the couch and down the hallway. “How ‘bout you Baby Sis? Did you have a good day?”
Sparky nodded her head. “I hate answering the phones, but with luck those days are numbered. Have you heard from Ian?”
“He’s home.” Billy sat on the couch. “Everyone is fussing and coddling, driving him right up the wall, but he’s just glad no longer be tethered to that hospital bed.”
“I give him a day before he’s off doing lots of things he shouldn’t be doing yet.” Sparky rubbed her temples. “How far do you think they’ll let him get before they yank the chain back?”
“You know Ian, unless he’s doing a dozen things at once, he thinks he’s wasting his time.” He patted his sister on the leg. “Go wash up, dinner’s ready.”
“Yay, corndogs again.”
“Vonnie’s having corndogs. It’s Thursday, that’s her day to pick her meals. The adults are having pasta, garlic bread and a nice bottle of red wine.”
Sparky threw back her head and closed her eyes. “I am so thankful I’m an adult.”
“Do you want vinegar and oil on your salad or Italian?” Billy asked as he headed back to the kitchen and she down the hall to the bathroom.
“V and O, please.” She yelled back, stepping to the wall as Vonnie raced past her. “I take it they gave Ian his phone back.”
“I think he had to wrestle Tippy for it, but he’s got one. He said for you to call or text him when you got a chance.” She heard as she washed her hands and face.
Everything washed and cleaned, humans properly seated at the table and grace having been said, the three dug in. Sparky watched her niece slop a corn dog in a bowl of ketchup and shove as much of it as she could in her mouth. She assumed it was food on a stick and a messy procedure that appealed to the little girl. Surely it wasn’t the taste.
“Guess what?” Vonnie asked after a big barely chewed swallow. “Daddy and I are goin’ to California to visit Uncle Ian.”
“I know.” Sparky replied, enjoying the Alfredo sauce on her pasta. “This is great, from a jar?”
“No.” Billy beamed. “I made it myself. Good isn’t it?”
“Very.” Sparky sipped her wine. “So are you wishing now you’d gone back with Reese yesterday?”
“Yes and no.” He admitted. “There are still a number of things I need to get done here, and I think our little surprise is better delivered solo.” He twisted some pasta on his fork.
“Shouldn’t Reese have gotten home by now?” Sparky looked at her watch.
“Shortly.” Billy picked up a napkin and wiped the ketchup dripping off his daughter’s chin. “Girl, you are gonna drown yourself in ketchup. Be careful.”
“Yes, Daddy.” She smiled and went ahead and plunged her corndog back in the ketchup bowl and swished it around.
“He called about an hour ago saying he was starting the last leg. With good weather he’ll be there by night fall.”
“Did you tell him about the mail?” Sparky asked.
“I forgot.” Billy turned to his daughter, a little more sternly this time. “Young lady, eat and stop playing or dinner will be over before dessert.”
“Sugar, have some macaroni and cheese, too.” Sparky smiled at the four year old. “And take a bite of the corndog don’t just lick off the ketchup.”
Billy looked at his sister and grinned. “What is it about the women in this family and condiments?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You don’t remember the fit you pitched when Mom refused to let you take mustard sandwiches for your lunch at school?”
“Mustard sandwiches?” Vonnie crinkled her ketchup splattered nose. “Ewwww!”
“Fortunately we outgrow it.” Sparky said. “I need to call Ian with some information. I’ll find out what he wants to do about the mail.”
“So you found something out for him?” Billy drained his wine. “More wine?”
“No thank you.” Sparky continued to enjoy her pasta. “Sgt Cummings gave me a hard time at first, but then he finally put the file on his desk and left the room to take a phone call.”
“So you stole the information?” Billy scowled at his sister.
“No, I think he did it deliberately to help Ian. I got want I needed to help and Sgt. Cummings didn’t have to wade through reams of endless red tape.” Sparky swiped the last drops of Alfredo off her plate with the last bite of garlic bread. “I didn’t get a copy of it, but I got all I needed.”
“Enough to settle Ian’s mind?”
She nodded her head. “It makes a little more sense now, but in my mind opens up a new whole series of questions.”
“Oh, great.” Billy folded his napkin up and dropped it on his plate.
“I wonder if I should even pass on the information or wait until I answer a few more of my own questions.” Sparky reached for Vonnie’s dinnerware. “Are you finished, young lady?”
Vonnie nodded her head and burped. “Why don’t you go feed the kitties while I help your Daddy with the dishes?”
“’Kay.” She was off like a shot.
Sparky carried the empty plates to the kitchen and slipped them into the sudsy water. “So what would you do, Billy? You think Ian will let this drop?”
“Of course, he won’t let it drop.” He said rinsing soap off a plate and slipping it in the dishwasher. “Not unless it gives finality to the whole thing. You said it just brought up more questions in your mind. Is this investigation still open?”
Sparky shook her head. “No. The case is closed, and from their prospective I understand. It’s just this one stray loose end bothers me and I know it will bug the hell out of Ian.”
“You want to tell me about it?” Billy shut the dishwasher door and hit the start button.
“On the condition that this remains between the two of us. You cannot say anything to Ian until I decide what to do.” She squeezed excess water out of a dishrag and wiped off the table.
“My lips are sealed.” Billy came behind her with a dry towel.
“Are you familiar with the drug Rohypnol?” She turned at leaned against the counter.
“I’ve heard the name, but I don’t know what it’s for. Why?” Billy folded the used cloths up and dropped them into a laundry bag in the pantry.
“It’s more commonly known as the date rape drug.” Sparky told him. “It can be dropped into someone’s drink, has virtually no taste and within minutes causes, in some cases, a complete lack of inhibitions.”
Billy nodded his head and crossed his arms. “I understand. What does this have to do with...?" Billy’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh…”
“The autopsy on Kyle Osbourne not only showed that he had it in his system, but says he had ingested massive amounts within an hour before he died.”
“So he was abusing drugs?” Billy said.
“That’s the logical theory.” Sparky said. “But the autopsy stated there seamed to be little or no signs of long term abuse. So one of two things occurred. Having Ian around stressed Kyle out, so he popped something from the medicine cabinet hoping to calm down and got the opposite reaction.”
“But why would the Osbournes have something like that in the medicine cabinet?”
“My point exactly.” Sparky said. “Then there’s the other possibility, Kyle ate or drank something that was deliberately laced with Rohypnol.”
“Which brings up the questions who would do that, where did it come from and…”
“Was it even meant for Kyle?” Sparky sighed. Her attention was immediately diverted to the four-year-old sliding back into the kitchen across the hardwood floors in her sock feet.
“Kin I have pie now?”
Everyone seemed a little shocked when Ian announced there was somewhere he needed to go. They all looked at each other, exchanging glances of resignation. Ian let them exchange looks and headed, albeit slowly, toward the garage.
Ripley broke the ice. “Do you need to take anything?”
“Nope, just me.” Ian said determined not to stop.
“Okay.” Ripley reached for the car keys. “Right behind you.”
“Baby Doll, I’ll have dinner ready when you get back.”
“Thanks, Tippy. I won’t be long. Ronnie keep them out of trouble.”
“Give her my love.” The boy said.
Ian stopped and turned his head to see his son grinning from ear to ear. “I will.”
It took three times as longer to get in the car than arrive at the chosen designation, but the traffic wasn’t bad so the trip only took about a half an hour. Ian allowed Ripley to help him out of the car. The man knew his energy was wearing thin, but he also knew he wouldn’t rest until he’d gotten this trip over with.
“I’ll wait here for you.” He said, pulling his backpack to his lap and getting out a copy of the latest ‘Dresden File’.
“I won’t be too long.” Ian promised.
“You take as long as you want.” Ripley looked up from his novel. “Let me know if I have to break up a fist fight.”
“You’ve been here before?” Ian chuckled.
“Brought Ronnie and Miss Tippy yesterday.” Ripley grinned. “Now go on and don’t interrupt me, I’m getting to the good part.”
Ian nodded and caned his way into the room. He stood in the doorway a moment and looked at the nurse who was being given a hard time. “I see nothing has changed.”
The two women, one in scrubs and the other in a bed stopped their befuddling and looked in his direction. “She refuses to eat Mr. Ian.”
“If it’s anything like the food I’ve been being served I don’t blame her at all.” Ian hobbled toward them, the nurse pulling a chair next to the bedside so he could sit himself down.
The woman in the bed refused to look at him. Half her face was putty; the other was twisted into a snarl. Ian picked up the plate cover and looked up at her. “This doesn’t look too bad. You can’t really ruin scrambled eggs.”
“She’s been having a little stomach trouble. We thought some scrambled eggs might stay down a little better.”
Ian put the cover aside and did his best to scoot both the tray and himself closer to her. “Have you not been feeling well, Miss Glo?”
She still refused to look at him. Ian reached out and took her chin, gently pulling her head to face him. He smiled at her, her eyes still refusing to meet his. “Believe it or not, I missed you.”
What little of her mouth that worked properly opened. “Scared…me...”
“Scared me, too.” Ian rubbed the back of his fingers on the cheek he knew she could feel. “I’d have been here sooner, but they had me chained up until now. Forgive me?”
She rolled her eyes; one performed perfectly, the other jerked slightly. She sighed.
Ian smiled. “I like your hair.”
He could tell she was pleased he noticed. “Tippy.” She got out.
“You look beautiful, Miss Virginia.” She reached with the hand she could move and took the one of his that worked. Ian looked to the nurse. “Thanks Daisy, why don’t you give us a chance to catch up?”
“Miss Glo, I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”
Gloria snorted. Nurse Daisy smiled and disappeared. “Now between the two of us we’ve got one good body…”
He could swear she fought back a smile. “Why don’t we try some of these eggs?” Ian released her hand and grabbed the fork, spearing some and aiming for her mouth. “Okay, old girl, you’re gonna have to help me.”
She gave him the eye roll, but opened her mouth and allowed him to feed her. She swallowed and scrunched up her face. “Eggs…cold…”
“Breath on them.” Ian said, heaping more eggs back on the fork.
“Don’t…me…laugh…”
“Don’t make you laugh?” Ian said. “You laugh? I don’t think so.”
He headed the loaded fork towards her mouth. Gloria put her hand up and stopped him. Her eyes dropped to her lap.
Ian put the fork down and grabbed her hand. “I know, Gloria. I feel the same way.” He kissed the back of her hand and put his head in her lap. She put her good hand in his hair and stroked it.
“What…do…now?”
He sighed. “I don’t know, Miss Glo. I don’t know. Carry on? Is there anything else we can do?”
“Care…full.”
“It wasn’t my fault. I’m not sure what happened or why it happened but I’m going to figure it out and make sure it never happens again.”
“Ronnie?”
“He’s good, sends his love. I’m just thankful he wasn’t home.”
“Good…boy.”
Ian smiled, sat up and looked at her. “Great boy. I am so blessed.”
“We…blessed…” She definitely smiled that time.
“Did you like your sign language book?”
Miss Glo gave him a hand signal that made him laugh out loud.
“I thought so.” Ian grabbed her hand and made her stop flashing her middle finger. “Gloria, I need you to get stronger with me. Please try.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Stop that.” Ian scowled. “I need you to get stronger so I can bring you home. I know you don’t like it here, but if you don’t try to care for yourself more I can’t get you out.”
“Why…”
“Just do it, you spiteful old dragon. If nothing else I need you to keep me safe from Ronnie’s cat.” Ian looked at the empty bed in the room. “So, do you like your roommate?”
He got a second helping of sign language. “Kill…you…”
“I thought you’d like it.” Once again, he put his hand over her outstretched finger. “Now, the nurse said you haven’t been feeling well. Are you okay?”
“Bug…”
“Just a flu? Are you sure?”
Gloria nodded her head and smiled. “You…”
“The meds make me thirsty and loopy, but I’m getting there.” She took his hand. “Thanks for asking. And now I have confession to make…”
She half grinned. “Good…dee…”
“I now know why you are so cranky before and after physical therapy. Between you and me, I’m not sure there is any reason to have body parts bent in those directions.” Gloria laughed out loud as best she could. He loved it when he made her laugh.
“After bringing me to tears, my therapist finally asked if there was anything they could do, so I suggested they wear black leather the next time so I could at least get some enjoyment out of it.”
“Naughty.”
Ian looked in her eyes. “I’m tired, Miss Glo. I so tired of all this.”
She nodded her head. “I…know…”
“It has to stop. I thought it all ended, but just when I least expect it…wham…there it goes again.” She pulled his hand to her lips and kissed it. “I have to protect Ronnie from it. I hired someone to live with us, to look out for us.”
“Big…guy…”
“Ripley, he’s out in the hall. Sweet wonderful man you would not want to mess with. Ronnie adores him. They play cards and board games. He lets Ronnie just climb all over him and I think he’d give his life for either one of us.”
“You…trust…”
“One of the few people in this world I trust with no reservations. Ironically, you’re one of the others so that doesn’t say much for my judgment of character.” She laughed again.
She got quiet, pulling his hand to her heart. “Clare?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I thought she’d try and get in touch with everything that happened. If she did, no one told me. I’m sure she’s still in California. I’ll find her.”
“Don’t…bad…girl…”
“She needs to at least know that you are here, and that you are doing oh so much better.”
“No…please…”
“Miss Gloria? You don’t want to see your daughter?”
“Keep…you…safe…”
“I don’t understand, Gloria. Clare won’t hurt me. By this time she knows we have no relationship. I feel sort of guilty. I was mean and cruel towards her, but it was the only way I could think of to get her to understand it was over.”
“Big…girl…”
“I know. She’s a big girl. She can take care of herself, but I’m worried. She may be struggling here somewhere and need help. I can at least do that much for her.”
“Soft…tee…”
“Meany…” Ian stuck out his tongue at her. “I need to get back. It takes me quite a bit longer to get around these days, and I want to track down your roomie and see how she’s doing.”
Gloria winked. “She…good…”
“I’m so glad they were able to find an agency to help her out.”
“Liar…” She smiled.
Ian put his finger up to his lips. “Our secret.”
“Rose…”
“Is there a problem with her grand daughter?”
“Fired…”
“She lost her job?”
Gloria nodded. “Time…off…”
Ian slumped back in his chair. “They fired her for taking time off while her grandmother had surgery?”
“Don’t…tell…”
“Don’t tell anyone or Miss Inez doesn’t know?”
“Both…help…”
“Now who’s a softy?” Ian slowly raised himself up enough to lean over and kiss her cheek. “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry. Now, not this weekend but next, if you’re a good girl we are going to see if the doctors will let me bring you home…just for the day.”
“Home?”
“We always have a big dinner on Saturday that seems to last until Sunday. Would you like that?”
“May…be…” Her face brightened with a half smile.
“That’s only if you’re good, and keep working to get stronger.” He pointed his finger at her.
She pointed hers right back. “You…too…”
“Me, too.” Ian brushed his fingers again down the cheek he knew she could feel. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Who…cares…” she grinned.
“Same here.” He hobbled toward the door spying Ripley engrossed in his novel. Nurse Daisy was quickly at his side. “So what’s the scoop? She’s had a flu?”
“A little bug, but her system fought it off surprisingly well.”
“I got her to eat a couple of bites of that egg, but she was right they were cold. Maybe she’ll take some hot soup now?”
“I’ll try.”
“Is Miss Inez around?”
“Her grand daughter took her out for a stroll. Shall I tell her you were asking about her?”
“Please do, and say I’m so sorry I missed her, but I need to get home. This little outing has just about done me in for the day. You’ve not heard anything from Miss Glo’s daughter?”
“Not a word.”
“Next weekend, I want to bring her to my house for the day, overnight if the doctor will okay it. I’d like to turn it into a regular event, hoping it will give her a reason to get stronger and not be so fussy. You tell her doctor that I’ll be in on Tuesday and I expect a full report. He can call Blake and set up a time.”
“Of course Mr. Ian.”
“If she needs anything, day or night, do not hesitate to call me. Miss Inez, too.”
“Of course. And how are you doing? Miss Glo was a wreck. Don’t tell her I said that though.”
Ian smiled. “I’m doing well, but I have to work at getting my stamina back, just like the dragon lady. Is there anything that she needs? I’m sure one of the family will be here tomorrow and I’ll make sure they bring it.”
“No. I think she’s fine. She enjoys the company though, especially Ronnie. She just lights up whenever he’s around.”
“He has that affect on people. Well, you have a good day. Thanks for taking care of Dragon Lady for me.”
“Actually, it’s my pleasure. She’s not nearly as surly as she thinks she is.”
“I’m glad you’re here to take care of her.” Ian smiled. “Be sure you tell Miss Inez and Rose Marie I was here, and tell Rose to give me a call. It’s important.”
Before he could move or even indicate, Ripley was right at Ian’s side holding out an arm to help ease him back to the car. Despite the fact that he didn’t want to, Ian fell asleep before they got out of the parking lot.
Dinner was wonderful, although they all admitted they missed lunch lotto. Ian enjoyed his after dinner smoke, on the patio by the pool. He quickly rebonded with Ralphie, who was so excited he couldn’t stop peeing.
Ian had finally meandered back inside, realizing that meandering was going to be his full speed for awhile. He had made it back to the couch and was happily looking through notes for the two meetings he had the next day.
The doctors were allowing him four hours at work three days a week with one day off in between. Tomorrow he needed to take full advantage of his four hours. Although constantly being informed and making final decisions from his hospital bed, there a few things that needed to be done face to face.
As he made a note on top of his notes, he heard a little pounce to the arm of the couch. He looked out of the corner of his eye, and chose to ignore the sound. He finished reading his paper and slid the pile back in his backpack on the coffee table before him.
He sighed and leaned back, the pouncer now in full vision. “I wondered when you’d rear your head.”
Rodie curled her tail around her haunches and meowed. She cocked her head then scratched at the ribbon around her neck.
“I see Tippy’s gotten her hands on you.” Ian chuckled. “The bow is a little much.”
The cat stepped off the arm and gracefully moved herself to the cushion beside Ian.
“That’s close enough.” He put up his hand. “I owe you, but that doesn’t mean we bond or anything. You are still a rodent fur ball. You’ve shown you can use your evil for good, but I still have doubts.”
Rodie cocked her head, curled up in a ball and tried to get comfortable with the pink ribbon and bow around her neck. She gave up and looked up into Ian’s eyes.
“Look, we’re even okay?” Ian told her. “I scooped you up out of the barn when like an idiot you didn’t follow your family to safety, and you made me bend down when I was dumb enough not to know there was a gun pointed at my head. Even, got it? We no longer have that Hindu Karma thing hanging between us. Now, go away…”
Rodie scratched at the bow again. She fussed and preened, determined to get comfortable.
“Oh, alright.” Ian pouted. “Don’t take this as anything other than knowing what it’s like to be uncomfortable. There will be no touchy feely stuff between us, understand?”
Rodie stood up allowing Ian to fumble a bit and get the ribbon loose from her neck. She did take advantage of the situation and rubbed her fuzzy cheek against his fingers.
“You’re welcome.” Ian surprised himself by reaching out and lightly rubbing his finger down her fur. Rodie responded with a very happy purr, but didn’t dare take a step toward him. She did however take a swat at the ribbon now dangling from Ian’s hand. It made him laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
Ian threw the ribbon across the room, and the cat made a mad dash after it. “Nothing.”
He looked up to see a wide grin on Reese’s face. Ian grinned back. “Hey buddy, did you make it home?”
“I see you did.” Reese reached down and gave Ian a soft hug. “You look…well…happy to be out of the hospital.”
“I am.” Ian responded as Reese took a seat beside him on the couch. “You look sleepy. Did you get any rest at all?”
Reese snorted. “Of course. It’s a long trip to make in just a few days.”
“How are Billy and Vonnie?”
“Doing well. I’m going back in a few days, pick them up and bring them for an extended visit.”
“Why did you even bother to come back? You should have just stayed until they were ready. Honeymoon’s not over, is it?” Ian eyed him.
Reese blushed. “No, but I had something I needed to bring back for you.”
“Reese, I told you no gifts. I am certainly glad to see you but…”
“Oh shut up.” Reese said and gently shoved him. “You can thank me later.”
Ian heard a throat clear. He turned his head around to see Jude standing there, Ronnie melted into his arms. “Are you happy to see me or is that plaster in yer pocket?”
He tried to stand. Reese had to help, but within moments the three; Ian, Jude and Ronnie were all a mass of joy, tears and hugs.
Ian didn’t want to let go. Jude didn’t either and Ronnie surely wasn’t. There were a million unanswered questions, but all they could think of was making sure that the other was truly there, standing in their presence and not leaving their arms ever again.
“Son, you look like crap.” Jude said clutching Ronnie and holding Ian tight.
“You don’t look much better.” Ian couldn’t let go. He’d never needed someone so close in his life, but he finally had to let go or fall down. “Are you hungry?”
“I’ll be fine. Miss Tippy is heating us up somethin’.” Jude put his grandson down, and finally took Ian in both his arms. “You ever scare me like that again an’ I’ll beat you like you never been beat before.”
“I had to do something to get you here.” Ian closed his eyes and took a deep breath relishing the scent of a good memory of home. “Maybe I went a little overboard.”
Jude finally pushed Ian back, holding his head with both hands and taking a good look. “Look at you, all skinny and peekid. I thought that hospital was supposed to be fixing you up. Looks ta me, like they done a half assed job.”
“He looks so much better now, Grampaw.”
“Well, if you say so, but if I thought diff’ernt I’d have to go whoop me some fancy doctor butt.”
“Do it anyway.” Ian grinned. “I dare ya.”
Jude shook his finger at him. “Aw yer awright boy. Here, let’s sit down. This old man’s tard.”
Ian allowed Jude and Ronnie to help him back to the couch. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” Ian wanted to know.
“I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Everyone knew, but you Papa. We figured it was the best welcome home gift you could ever get.” Ronnie beamed.
“It is, Puppy. Thank you.” Ian turned back to Jude. “And now that he’s here, we’re not letting him go back.”
Jude put up his hands. “Let’s not argue, son. I just had to see you fer myself. This is some fancy place.”
“There’s plenty of room.”
“Shoot Grampaw, we got rooms we don’t know what to do with.” Ronnie bounced.
“Stand up fer me, Ronnie. Let yer Grampaw have a good look.” He smiled. “You have grown! Yer gonna be as purdy as yer Papa. I brought a little something fer ya.”
“For me?” Ronnie’s eyes lit up.
“Why don’t you run find yer Uncle Reese and help him bring in m’stachel?”
“You won’t go nowhere?”
“I’m right here, little man. The most I’ll go is to the kitchen when the food’s hot.”
“Okay, I’ll be right back.” Ronnie dashed out shouting for Reese.
Ian grabbed Jude’s arm. “So how are you doing?”
Jude nodded his head. “You and the boy’s the best medicine I’ll ever get.”
“You don’t look half bad for a sick old redneck.” Ian couldn’t help but wipe a tear from his cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Jude couldn’t respond. He just kept that tight smile on his face and nodded his head.
“Now, before Ronnie gets back, I’m just going to set the rules.” Ian was upfront and firm. “We’re going to make a few calls and find out…”
“Ian, I just want to be comfortable. That’s all. I ain’t gonna let my grandbaby watch me die. I ain’t gonna let you watch me die. I am here because I needed to see you and I miss the boy somethin’ terrible.”
“But while you are here, let’s just see what we can do to make you a little more comfortable.” Ian looked at him. “I can see the pain in your eyes, Jude.”
“Just as I can see it in yers.”
“Well, I’m due a handful of medication. What’s your excuse?” Ian raised one eyebrow. “You will not fight me on this Jude. I’m not going to make you stay, but as far as I’m concerned this is your home and quite frankly I’ve got you hostage for a little while.”
“Hostage?”
“How ya getting” home?” Ian smiled. “I know there’s not a lot of miracles out there, but let’s see if we can at least make whatever time we all have together as comfortable as possible. Will you let me do that for you? For Ronnie? For me?”
Jude nodded his head. “If it will make you happy, I’ll do just about anything.”
“Mr. Jude?” Jesse shyly interrupted. “Dinner’s ready.”
“Thank you.” Jude turned to Ian. “I have to admit, I could use a little bite. Do you mind?”
“You go right ahead.” Ian smiled. “I can see Mr. Subtlety there is sweating with a handful of pills he’s hoping I won’t put up a fuss about having to take.”
“You need me to pin him down while you shove ‘em down his throat? I got no problem with that.” Jude looked at Jesse for the first part and Ian for the second.
“No need. I won’t put up a fight.” Ian put out his hand and Jesse dropped a half dozen capsules in his hand. “But I’m going to warn you. I’m not supposed to know it, but one or two of these will knock me out for the rest of the night, so until I figure out which one’s which I will probably be a zombie by the time you finish your stew.”
“Well, as you pointed out.” Jude handed Ian a glass of water from the coffee table. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere fer a while.”
He stood and kissed Ian on the forehead. “I’ll go have me some supper, and you just relax and let us take care a you awhile longer. If nothin’ else I’ll see you in the mornin’.”
Jude got up and followed Jesse back to the dining room. “I cain’t get over how big this place is. It may take me a while to get used to it all.”
“Ian and Ronnie are so glad you’re here, Mr. Jude.” Jesse told him as he pulled out a chair for him at the table. “Thank you for coming. I think it’s just what everyone needed.”
“Ya’ll have taken good care of m’boys. I’m so ‘preciative.”
“Now, Ian didn’t make this.” Tippy said putting a steaming bowl in front of Jude. “But it’s pretty good if I do say so myself.”
“It was wonderful, Tippy.” Colton smiled and hugged his wife.
“Why don’t ya’ll sit with me while I eat?” Jude nodded to them. “I eat alone all the time. Comp’ny would be nice fer a change. I promise not to talk with m’mouth full.”
Tippy smiled and pulled out the chair across from him and took a seat. “How you feeling, Mr. Jude?”
Jude nodded his head as he took a spoonful of the hot stew. “This is good. Thank you.”
“Thursday’s are usually just simple meals for us. Weekends we do meals up right, a big family time. We’re excited to have you be a part of us now.” Tippy smiled.
Colton came back in the room with a second steaming bowl and placed it on the table. “The boys are bringing your bags in. Reese will be looking for some of his Mama’s stew soon.”
“They didn’t need to do that.” Jude looked up. “I just wanted one of ‘em to help Ronnie bring m’ satchel in so I could give him the little gift I brought em.”
“Hey, don’t you ever worry about having the young ones do the heavy stuff for you. That’s why God gave us children, to take the heavy load off those of us that aren’t quite so young anymore.” Colton smiled as he seated himself beside his wife.
“I guess they told on me?” Jude remained focused on his stew.
“Mr. Jude, that depends on what you’re talking about.” Tippy said softly. “The boys didn’t mean to embarrass you, but if you are referring to your health, then yes we know.”
“Ian needed someone to talk to.” Colton told him. “He’s become very important to us, and we’re glad that he felt he could share that with us. He was hoping we might know of somebody or someone that can help.”
Jude put his spoon down. “Well, I thank you for being there for Ian; Ronnie, too. Ian’s never been one to share his burdens. It does my heart good to know he’s learned to trust some.”
“No one has said anything to Ronnie about it.” Tippy put her hand on Jude’s. “He’s been staying with us. Ian made your wishes clear and we will always respect that.”
“I know that sooner or later, he’ll need to know, but right now…”
“Later is best for now.” Colton said. “Quickly before Ronnie comes running back in, I have referred Ian to a practice I know of. My best friend fought cancer for nine years. He was happy and comfortable right up the last minute.”
“It’s a group of doctors that specialize in this sort of thing.” Tippy smiled. “They never promise miracles, but they’ve got a sterling reputation working aggressive cancers with aggressive treatments. You’ll be in good hands.”
“Thank you.” Jude nodded his head. “You’ve taken such good care of Ian an’ m’granbaby. I don’t know what any of us would’a done without ya.”
“Mr. Jude…” Tippy looked at Colton, who smiled, and then looked back at Jude. “That’s what family is for. It took awhile for it to sink in with Ian, I hope you’ll be a little quicker to think of us that way.”
“We feel we already know so much about you.” Colton smiled. “I know we’re perfect strangers to you, but with Ronnie and Ian we all, the boys included, already think of you as part of us.”
Ronnie rushed into the dining room dragging an army issued satchel. “Is this want your looking for Grampaw?” He could barely contain the excitement.
“Why I do believe it is.” Jude put his spoon down as Reese sat down beside him and dug into his own bowl of stew. “Now, let’s see…” He dug around a little, finally pulling out two bright colored boxes, obviously wrapped by a man. He handed both of them to his grandson.
“Both for me?”
“Abs’lutely. Now don’t go getting too stirred up. They ain’t much.” He pointed to the biggest of the two. “Open that’n first.”
Ronnie ripped off the colored paper and his eyes lit up. “A art program for my lap top!”
“I know how much you like t’draw, so I had Billy go find me something where you kin do it right on yer computer.”
“That’s so cool!” Ronnie looked at the back of the box. “Says here I can print it out or email anywhere. Thank you Grampaw!”
“Let me see.” Tippy held out her hand.
“Now that other little box is sumpin’ old I found an’ thought you might like ta have.” Jude said as Ronnie ripped open the second box.
“Oh, Grampaw!” Ronnie looked in his hands. “They’re beautiful.”
“They was mine when I was yer age.” Jude said. “My daddy said that my Grampaw made ‘em fer me.”
Jude looked bittersweetly at the Indian and the Teepee made of copper. “They needs a good cleanin’. I found ‘em wrapped up in a old bandanna and tucked away in a box a Christmas stuff.”
“Your grandfather was a coppersmith?” Colton asked.
“That’s what m’ Daddy tol’ me. He died when I was young. I don’t remember him at’all. Knowing how important family is, ‘specially now, I thought I’d pass ‘em on.”
“I’ll take such good care of ‘em.” Ronnie looked up. “Someday, I’ll pass ‘em on to my little boy.”
Jude grinned. “You do that.”
“Let me finish eating, Ronnie and I’ll help you load that program on your laptop.” Reese said in between slurps.
“I’m gonna go show Papa!” Ronnie clutched the old toys to his chest and started to bolt, running right into Jesse. “Oops. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Jesse laughed. “Where you headed off to in such a hurry, Flash?”
“I’m gonna show Papa what Grampaw brought me!” Ronnie squealed and started to run.
Jesse grabbed him by the collar and held him spinning in place. “Too late, Bubba. Ian’s out like a light.”
Colton and Tippy looked at each other and high fived.
“I wouldn’t get too smug.” Jesse told his parents. “He’ll figure out which one it is, and it’ll be just like trying to give the cat a wormer. He’ll eat everything in the dish but the little white pill.”
“He won’t figure it out.” Colton grinned.
“I guarantee you he will.” Jess assured them.
“Tonight, I crushed it up and put it in his water.” Tippy giggled. “I figure we’ll find a way to slip it to him differently every night. Hopefully, by the time he figures it out, we won’t need to sedate him.”
“That’s awful sneaky.” Jude told her and grinned. “I like it!”
Reese looked up. “He’s not laying down flat is he?”
Jesse laughed. “No. He’s sitting up on the couch…” He giggled. “And your not going to believe this, so I got pictures…” He opened up his cell phone and passed it around.
“I think we’ve found his Christmas card.” Tippy laughed. “You know he’ll kill you if he ever sees that.”
She passed the phone to Colton and Reese, who almost choked on his stew. “We need to send this to everyone we know.”
“Oh no…” Jesse said. “I know good blackmail material when I see it.”
“Ooh…ooh…” Ronnie said with an evil smirk. “Send it to Uncle Blake. He can put it on
Papa’s desktop at work as his screen saver.”
Colton chuckled. “We can have a pool to see how long it takes him to notice.”
“What’s is it?” Jude was finally handed the camera. “Is that Ronnie’s cat?”
“Yup.” Jesse grinned. “Curled up in Ian’s lap sleeping away with him.”
“I never understood why he hates cats so.” Tippy said. “Any insight?”
“Well…” Jude wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I don’t think he ever cared fer ‘em much, but once’t a bully grabbed a stray cat by the tail, as I recall. He got the thing all riled up and started hittin’ Ian with it…”
“That’s awful!” Tippy was shocked.
“Miss Tippy, that jus’ one a too many awful things that got done to Ian.” Jude leaned back in his chair. “Ever’body on Lost Mountain was poor, but Ian an’ m’girls were the bottom a the heap. They was allus getting picked on and teased. Reckon that’s why they stuck together sa much.”
“I’m gonna go find a special place in my room for these.” Ronnie held up the copper toys, and was off.
Colton smiled. “That was the perfect gift, Jude, those toys.”
“I thought so. I think you should allus know where you come from. It helps to keep ya see a li’l better where yer goin’. I kin do that fer Ronnie.” Jude hung his head. “Wish I could do it fer Ian.”
Jesse pulled up a chair at the table. “Did you know his parents?”
“Just his Mama.” Jude said. “Nobody knowed anything ‘bout her. She was a orphan chil’ and the Ransom family tuck her in and raised her as they own.”
“And Ian’s father?” Jesse asked.
Jude shook his head. “A lot a people thunk it was me, wish I had that honor, but I don’t. All I know is Lylah, that’s Ian’s mama, runned away when she was a teenager. It tuck a li’l while, but they tracked her down an’ brought her back. She wudn’t home long afore we realized she was pregnant.”
“So it was someone she met then?”
“You are awful full of questions, Jesse.” Tippy looked at her youngest. “Usually I’m the one pumping for information.”
“Sorry.” Jesse said. “Ian never talks about his past much. Now that we’ve got a link to it at the table…”
“It’s fine, Jesse.” Jude assured him. “I don’t know that much more than Ian, but if I know the answer I don’ mind the question.”
“You know, there is a little mystery you may be able to solve for us.” Tippy remembered. “Have you seen the pictures in Ian’s locket?”
“Ian’s locket?” Jude looked at her.
“The one he wears around his neck all the time.” Reese said.
“Sorry, I ain’t never seed it.” Jude said.
“He said it was something his grandmother gave to him. There was a picture of a woman and a baby inside.” Tippy said.
“Ian assumed it was his baby picture and his mother, but it turned out if you looked close enough, the baby was a girl.”
“We think now it’s his mother, Lylah is that want you said her name was?” Colton added. “And maybe her mother.”
“Sounds like you got that mystery solved then.” Jude said.
“That’s not the mystery.” Tippy said. “The locket got dropped in chocolate sauce or something one night, and we found out the scratches on it was actually an engraving.”
Jude sat up. “Don’t tell me. It spelled out his name?”
The family all looked at each other. “How did you know?”
“Then Billy hain’t said nothing to you ‘bout the pitcher?”
“What pitcher?” Tippy asked.
“You mean that silver peuter pitcher that belonged to Ian’s Aunt Hil?” Reese asked.
“That’s the one.” Jude confirmed.
“You found that?” Reese asked and Jude nodded his head. “We assumed it was gone. Ian gave that to Janie and the last we saw it she carried it over to the house.”
“Well, that ‘splanes that mystery.” Jude said. “Billy’s daughter found it out in the field, and we put it in stuff ya’ll brought back after we cleaned up.”
“It must still be in the boxes.” Tippy said. “There are a bunch of boxes in the little room off the pantry.”
“Billy and I brought them all in a put them there until Ian was ready to go through them.”
“Then everything happened and they’re still just sitting there.” Jesse said.
“Well that pitcher’s got Ian’s name engraved on the bottom.” Jude said. “Don’t rightly know how no one ever spotted it afore.”
The Shores all exchanged glances.
“Is it possible that Ian’s Aunt Hil had the pitcher engraved?” Tippy asked.
“I reckon it’s possible, but quite hones’ly I don’t think she’d ever think ta do that, and I don’t rightly know where’d someone’d go in Lost Mountain ta have it done.” Jude rubbed his hand across his chin. “Plus, if Miz Hil had the money to do that sorta thing, I doubt that puttin’ somebody’s name on the bottom of a old pitcher would pop right into her head.”
Tippy nodded. “We thought maybe Ian’s grandmother might have had his locket engraved. The lettering was so worn and faded, we didn’t notice until Ian’s little mishap with it.”
“Is it possible the two are connected somehow?” Reese looked up finishing his stew.
“Well, I don’t rightly know fer sure. I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout a locket, but as fer as that ol’ pitcher goes, Miz Hilary always had it. Sat right up on the window sill unless it was a holiday er a special occasion.”
“Both could have been handed down from some family member.” Colton said.
“Certainly, but why would Ian’s name be on them? Anyone who owned those two pieces surely never even imagined Ian, let alone had the foresight to engrave his name on them.” Tippy drummed her fingernails on the table. “Well, we won’t solve that mystery tonight. Let me wash up these dishes, and then Mr. Jude, I’ll help you get settled in.”
“Thank ya kindly.” Jude smiled.
“Let me give you a hand.” Colton followed his wife into the kitchen.
“And if you’ll excuse me.” Reese stood up. “I’d better go help Ronnie with that Art program like I promised.”
“Guess that leaves you an’ me, then Jesse.” Jude smiled. “So ‘xactly what’s on yer mind?”
Jesse smiled. “Nothing, sir. Just curious. It’s not often that you meet someone with a connection to someone who doesn’t seem to have much of a past.”
“You talkin’ ‘bout Ian?” Jesse shyly nodded his head. “He’s got a past son. It’s just that most of it, sorry to say don’t bring up a lot of happy mem’ries.”
“I understand that.” Jesse smiled. “I guess sometimes I just feel bad. It seems we all talk about something from our past, or relatives…”
“And when you do, you can see that look in Ian’s eyes.” Jude nodded his head slightly. “I’m trying to help with’at. I’ve searched ever inch of Hil’s place and mine. I was sure they’d be somethin’ that could at least tell us where to look.”
“You’ve found nothing?”
“Nary a thing. Lylah’s bus ticket stub is even missin’.” Jude said.
“Bus ticket?”
“When Ian was born and agin when his mama died, we tried to track down his Daddy. The only thing any of us knowed was she went to a little town down South. Thought if nothin’ else someone might recognize a picture of ‘er.”
“You have a picture of Ian’s mother?” Jesse couldn’t hide the shock.
Jude smiled. “Twernt many that I recall, but I did find one.”
Jude reached for his wallet and pulled out a creased photo and handed it to Jesse. “That’s Lylah and Ian. He was six months old, er that’s what someone wrote on the back.”
“She was beautiful.”
“Ian looks s’much like her. That coal black hair, and them eyes. His’n’s a little more blue. She was a tiny li’l slip of a thing. Reckon Ian must get his height from his Daddy.”
“He’s just a little above average.”
“But his Mama was tiny, tiny, tiny…barely five foot.”
“And you don’t know anything about his father at all?”
“Lylah wouldn’t discuss it, only that she loved him with all her heart. She’d a prob’ly stayed wif him, but Miz Lillian, that’s the woman who raised her, tracked ‘er down and drug ‘er back, kickin’ and screamin’ the whole way.”
“You don’t know where she went?” Jesse handed the picture back.
“Not fer sure, but seems I remember Miz Hil sayin’ something about Texas. That’s why I was hopin’ ta find that bus ticket, might give Ian a place ta start lookin’.”
“You’re going to give that picture to Ian?”
Jude nodded his head. “You know he didn’t even know her name fer sure until Miz Hil died and we sit down an talked. I don’t reckon he’d ever even see’d a picture of her.”
“Jude, would you let me do something if I asked you?”
“Well…depends on what it is.”
“Would you let me have that picture?” Jesse saw the look on Jude’s face. “I thought I could take it over to my computer at home and work on it some. It’s badly faded. It’s kind of a hobby of mine, restoring old photographs. I could blow it up and clean it up, make it look like it was brand new.”
“You kin do that?”
Jesse smiled. “Sure. It’s actually pretty simple. I could have it done by the time I turn in for the night. I’ll get a frame for it and we can wrap it up. I think Ian would love to have a picture of his mother.”
“I reckon that’s be wonderful, Jesse.” Jude said. “I’d be happy ta pay ya fer yer trouble.”
“Absolutely not.” Jesse slipped the photograph Jude handed over into his shirt pocket. “My payment will be the look on Ian’s face when he sees it.”
Now there it was, his front door in sight and unobstructed from his position in the back seat of his new car. There it was, homey little stoop with flowers that he and his son had planted together trying their best to bud out. It was the most beautiful sight he’d seen in such a long time.
When the car came to a stop, it took every ounce of control Ian had not to race from the car, throw open the door, lock himself in and everyone out. He knew that was impossible. First and foremost he couldn’t run fast enough. He was also well aware of the fact that behind that door was a group of very well meaning, loving people that would be surrounding him like vultures on a fresh kill.
He hated feeling like that. It was one of the drawbacks of family, that new group he suddenly found himself meshed with. They would dote and coddle and drive him absolutely crazy. He really just wanted to be left alone, but he knew that it wasn’t possible. He didn’t resent the people in his life, only the situation he found himself in.
He wanted to be angry. He was, but he had not been allowed to vent it. He wanted to slam his fists and break things. Unfortunately he had neither the strength nor the basic manual dexterity to get much of that accomplished. The time would come. He was due and counting on one heck of a private hissy fit.
“Here let me help you.” Jesse said rushing to the car door and trying to help Ian get out of the car.
Ian put up his hand, the one not still encased in plaster. “Let me do it or at least try.”
Jesse smiled and nodded. He stepped back, but obviously not too far that he couldn’t be right there if something should happen. Ian sensed a change in the young man. He had taken a personal interest in Ronnie and, although a daily presence at the hospital, he was oddly silent.
Ian had to admit that getting out of the car was a whole lot harder than getting into it. The basic physical change was that now every breath wasn’t painful, a totally different kind of hurt had taken over—helplessness. His body had been dormant for three weeks. His balance was shaky at best, energy only happened in short bursts and he had to think carefully about every step, twist and turn.
He managed to get two feet on the ground. Using the car door as a fulcrum he pulled himself to his feet. Ian took a deep breath. The series of movements had zapped all his energy for the hour, but he was not about to admit defeat.
Ripley appeared in his peripheral vision and subtly slipped Ian’s new best friend in sight. Ian let go of the door with one hand and grabbed the black cane. He nodded, signaling that he was ready to head for the door. Holding the cane with his left hand, he positioned it to be the support for his right leg, knee encased in a heavy brace.
In fact Ian’s right side was pretty much stapled, plastered and wired back into place. He took a heavy “toddle” towards his front door. He looked ahead, aware of the eager anticipation peaking out behind every curtain of the house. He appreciated the restraint.
It was a long walk that twenty-five, thirty feet up the sidewalk. He had to stop a couple of times but he made it. His goal for the day was to make it inside the house and to the couch without any help. After that, he’d happily acquiesce to being waited on hand and foot the rest of the day.
There would be no party. He’d put the kibosh on that the moment he even suspected Tippy was daring to put one together. There would be lots of family and friends running in and out of the house, but the last thing he wanted were paper streamers and cake. He didn’t feel like celebrating something that should have been routine.
Ian teetered just a bit getting up on the stoop. He’d sort of lost his balance and twisted around to see both Ripley and Jesse frozen in terror like parents watching a baby take his first step. They didn’t think it was funny. He thought it was a riot.
“Keys, please.” Ian said when he got to the door. “Please, tell me someone has keys.”
“Oh, sure.” Jesse produced a set from his pockets, jiggling them until the proper one was produced.
Ian was once again thankful for the restraint of those on the other side of the door. Tippy and Ronnie both were probably being held down to keep them from running to it, throwing it open and carrying him the rest of the way in. He slipped the key in the deadbolt and heard the click. It was a beautiful sound.
“Uh, Ian.” Ripley stopped him before he shoved the door open. “You need to put the code in now or the door won’t open.”
“What?”
“The new security system…” he reminded him. “Everyone who has a key has their own code. For now, yours is your birth date; month, day and four digit year.”
“Not a good code if everyone knows it.” Ian smirked.
“I’ll show you how to reset it later on, and when you are ready I’ll explain how it works. For now just put in your birth date like a good boy and let’s get you inside.” Ripley shifted his feet.
Ian nodded his head. He was too tired to come up with a good comeback. He knew Ripley knew it. Ian stood looking at the keypad.
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten you’re birthday?” Jesse gently teased.
“Uhm…no…” Ian hated to admit defeat, but he didn’t see he had a choice. “I can’t lean on this damned cane and punch in the code at the same time.”
“Not a problem.” Ripley swiftly moved in close enough to put his big sturdy hands to each side of Ian’s waist, giving him the balance he needed to free one finger, lift the cane and punch in his birthday. As soon as he put his weight back on the cane, Ripley released him.
The door sort of beeped and drifted open. Ian pushed it the rest of the way with his left foot and looked in. “I’m home.” He sighed as he toddled a step inside to his foyer. It was too quiet. If he got the rest of the way in and people started jumping out from all over and screaming “Surprise” he would find the energy to have that hissy fit he’d been wanting to throw.
He heard Jesse and Ripley enter the house behind him, and Ian concentrated on the next few feet to the couch. Damn, it looked so good.
Ronnie was standing between the window wall and the couch, looking very much like a Weeble. He was admirably maintaining control. Someone had the aforethought to keep Tippy totally out of the living room, but Ian could sense her holding her breath and biting the back of her hand.
Okay, he was there all he had to do was turn around, aim his rear at the cushions and plop. Easier said than done. It took him a while, he just had to imagine one foot was nailed to the floor, and use his other to step his body around. The last completed movement seemed to take forever, and he heard his son, Jesse and Ripley all take a breath when he finally started to sit.
Ronnie did come over, and push an ottoman within his father’s reach so he could lift and rest his leg on it. As soon as that leg was up, and his butt was down all bets were off. People crawled out of the woodwork like roaches when the lights go out.
He was kissed, hugged, greeted, fluffed, lap blanketed and babied. He was too tired to put up a fuss. Everyone was trying very hard not to fuss, which of course made it all seem fussier.
It was good to be home. It was good to be surrounded by the warmth of love that radiated from that big boisterous group of people now trying to anticipate his every move without being noticed. It would take a while for him to get comfortable with it all.
They had come and gone unceasing to his hospital room. They had sent flowers, candy, cards and gifts. They had encouraged him and infuriated him by helping him stay within the limits of his confinement. Those limitations had not been erased only a longer chain had been linked to the doghouse.
Ronnie had made gingerbread. Tippy did her best to make a pot of tea. Jesse ordered pizza and the Tyson boys put on a “Welcome home Papa Ian” show. Ian laughed and sighed did a really good job convincing everyone he was glad to be home.
Everytime he changed position or rooms the hustle and bustle stopped dead in its tracks. Ian understood. It made him hold his breath, too, but he had to do it. He had to exercise the freedoms that Blue Richards had so thoughtlessly stolen from him.
He was tired of being the victim. It seemed to him that his entire life he had been the victim of a series of attacks, from within and without, and he was tired of it. Ian was determined as he regained his strength and his independence that he would never be a victim again, nor would he let his son be a proxy to it all.
Sparky Jarvis opened the door to her apartment, dropped her shoes by the door one at a time and sighed from the sheer pleasure of finally being home. It had been a strenuous day full of the frustrations of only answering phones and the joy of trying to find answers to some questions Ian had asked her to look in to.
“Hi, honey. I’m home!” She called out as she plopped on the couch and put her feet up.
“Dinner is almost ready.” The voice came back from the kitchen.
“Aunt Sparky!” Bellowed from a room somewhere in the house followed by the unmistakable energetic footsteps of her niece. She was practically blindsided as Vonnie leaped onto her and covered her with little girl hugs and kisses. “Are ya home?”
“No, honey. I’m just a figment of your imagination.” Sparky hugged and kissed back signaling the end of the endearments. “Did you have a good day?”
“Yah huh.” Vonnie nodded her head and pounced on the couch beside her. “Daddy and me went to the grocery store and he let me pick out dinner.”
“Mmm, corn dogs and Cheerwine?” Sparky asked.
“An’ mac ‘n’ cheese.” She put her hands on her hips. “How’d you know?”
“I’m just good at guessing.” She looked up and smiled at her brother, now appearing from the kitchen.
“Vonnie, go wash up for dinner.” He said watching his genetic shooting star whoosh from the couch and down the hallway. “How ‘bout you Baby Sis? Did you have a good day?”
Sparky nodded her head. “I hate answering the phones, but with luck those days are numbered. Have you heard from Ian?”
“He’s home.” Billy sat on the couch. “Everyone is fussing and coddling, driving him right up the wall, but he’s just glad no longer be tethered to that hospital bed.”
“I give him a day before he’s off doing lots of things he shouldn’t be doing yet.” Sparky rubbed her temples. “How far do you think they’ll let him get before they yank the chain back?”
“You know Ian, unless he’s doing a dozen things at once, he thinks he’s wasting his time.” He patted his sister on the leg. “Go wash up, dinner’s ready.”
“Yay, corndogs again.”
“Vonnie’s having corndogs. It’s Thursday, that’s her day to pick her meals. The adults are having pasta, garlic bread and a nice bottle of red wine.”
Sparky threw back her head and closed her eyes. “I am so thankful I’m an adult.”
“Do you want vinegar and oil on your salad or Italian?” Billy asked as he headed back to the kitchen and she down the hall to the bathroom.
“V and O, please.” She yelled back, stepping to the wall as Vonnie raced past her. “I take it they gave Ian his phone back.”
“I think he had to wrestle Tippy for it, but he’s got one. He said for you to call or text him when you got a chance.” She heard as she washed her hands and face.
Everything washed and cleaned, humans properly seated at the table and grace having been said, the three dug in. Sparky watched her niece slop a corn dog in a bowl of ketchup and shove as much of it as she could in her mouth. She assumed it was food on a stick and a messy procedure that appealed to the little girl. Surely it wasn’t the taste.
“Guess what?” Vonnie asked after a big barely chewed swallow. “Daddy and I are goin’ to California to visit Uncle Ian.”
“I know.” Sparky replied, enjoying the Alfredo sauce on her pasta. “This is great, from a jar?”
“No.” Billy beamed. “I made it myself. Good isn’t it?”
“Very.” Sparky sipped her wine. “So are you wishing now you’d gone back with Reese yesterday?”
“Yes and no.” He admitted. “There are still a number of things I need to get done here, and I think our little surprise is better delivered solo.” He twisted some pasta on his fork.
“Shouldn’t Reese have gotten home by now?” Sparky looked at her watch.
“Shortly.” Billy picked up a napkin and wiped the ketchup dripping off his daughter’s chin. “Girl, you are gonna drown yourself in ketchup. Be careful.”
“Yes, Daddy.” She smiled and went ahead and plunged her corndog back in the ketchup bowl and swished it around.
“He called about an hour ago saying he was starting the last leg. With good weather he’ll be there by night fall.”
“Did you tell him about the mail?” Sparky asked.
“I forgot.” Billy turned to his daughter, a little more sternly this time. “Young lady, eat and stop playing or dinner will be over before dessert.”
“Sugar, have some macaroni and cheese, too.” Sparky smiled at the four year old. “And take a bite of the corndog don’t just lick off the ketchup.”
Billy looked at his sister and grinned. “What is it about the women in this family and condiments?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You don’t remember the fit you pitched when Mom refused to let you take mustard sandwiches for your lunch at school?”
“Mustard sandwiches?” Vonnie crinkled her ketchup splattered nose. “Ewwww!”
“Fortunately we outgrow it.” Sparky said. “I need to call Ian with some information. I’ll find out what he wants to do about the mail.”
“So you found something out for him?” Billy drained his wine. “More wine?”
“No thank you.” Sparky continued to enjoy her pasta. “Sgt Cummings gave me a hard time at first, but then he finally put the file on his desk and left the room to take a phone call.”
“So you stole the information?” Billy scowled at his sister.
“No, I think he did it deliberately to help Ian. I got want I needed to help and Sgt. Cummings didn’t have to wade through reams of endless red tape.” Sparky swiped the last drops of Alfredo off her plate with the last bite of garlic bread. “I didn’t get a copy of it, but I got all I needed.”
“Enough to settle Ian’s mind?”
She nodded her head. “It makes a little more sense now, but in my mind opens up a new whole series of questions.”
“Oh, great.” Billy folded his napkin up and dropped it on his plate.
“I wonder if I should even pass on the information or wait until I answer a few more of my own questions.” Sparky reached for Vonnie’s dinnerware. “Are you finished, young lady?”
Vonnie nodded her head and burped. “Why don’t you go feed the kitties while I help your Daddy with the dishes?”
“’Kay.” She was off like a shot.
Sparky carried the empty plates to the kitchen and slipped them into the sudsy water. “So what would you do, Billy? You think Ian will let this drop?”
“Of course, he won’t let it drop.” He said rinsing soap off a plate and slipping it in the dishwasher. “Not unless it gives finality to the whole thing. You said it just brought up more questions in your mind. Is this investigation still open?”
Sparky shook her head. “No. The case is closed, and from their prospective I understand. It’s just this one stray loose end bothers me and I know it will bug the hell out of Ian.”
“You want to tell me about it?” Billy shut the dishwasher door and hit the start button.
“On the condition that this remains between the two of us. You cannot say anything to Ian until I decide what to do.” She squeezed excess water out of a dishrag and wiped off the table.
“My lips are sealed.” Billy came behind her with a dry towel.
“Are you familiar with the drug Rohypnol?” She turned at leaned against the counter.
“I’ve heard the name, but I don’t know what it’s for. Why?” Billy folded the used cloths up and dropped them into a laundry bag in the pantry.
“It’s more commonly known as the date rape drug.” Sparky told him. “It can be dropped into someone’s drink, has virtually no taste and within minutes causes, in some cases, a complete lack of inhibitions.”
Billy nodded his head and crossed his arms. “I understand. What does this have to do with...?" Billy’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh…”
“The autopsy on Kyle Osbourne not only showed that he had it in his system, but says he had ingested massive amounts within an hour before he died.”
“So he was abusing drugs?” Billy said.
“That’s the logical theory.” Sparky said. “But the autopsy stated there seamed to be little or no signs of long term abuse. So one of two things occurred. Having Ian around stressed Kyle out, so he popped something from the medicine cabinet hoping to calm down and got the opposite reaction.”
“But why would the Osbournes have something like that in the medicine cabinet?”
“My point exactly.” Sparky said. “Then there’s the other possibility, Kyle ate or drank something that was deliberately laced with Rohypnol.”
“Which brings up the questions who would do that, where did it come from and…”
“Was it even meant for Kyle?” Sparky sighed. Her attention was immediately diverted to the four-year-old sliding back into the kitchen across the hardwood floors in her sock feet.
“Kin I have pie now?”
Everyone seemed a little shocked when Ian announced there was somewhere he needed to go. They all looked at each other, exchanging glances of resignation. Ian let them exchange looks and headed, albeit slowly, toward the garage.
Ripley broke the ice. “Do you need to take anything?”
“Nope, just me.” Ian said determined not to stop.
“Okay.” Ripley reached for the car keys. “Right behind you.”
“Baby Doll, I’ll have dinner ready when you get back.”
“Thanks, Tippy. I won’t be long. Ronnie keep them out of trouble.”
“Give her my love.” The boy said.
Ian stopped and turned his head to see his son grinning from ear to ear. “I will.”
It took three times as longer to get in the car than arrive at the chosen designation, but the traffic wasn’t bad so the trip only took about a half an hour. Ian allowed Ripley to help him out of the car. The man knew his energy was wearing thin, but he also knew he wouldn’t rest until he’d gotten this trip over with.
“I’ll wait here for you.” He said, pulling his backpack to his lap and getting out a copy of the latest ‘Dresden File’.
“I won’t be too long.” Ian promised.
“You take as long as you want.” Ripley looked up from his novel. “Let me know if I have to break up a fist fight.”
“You’ve been here before?” Ian chuckled.
“Brought Ronnie and Miss Tippy yesterday.” Ripley grinned. “Now go on and don’t interrupt me, I’m getting to the good part.”
Ian nodded and caned his way into the room. He stood in the doorway a moment and looked at the nurse who was being given a hard time. “I see nothing has changed.”
The two women, one in scrubs and the other in a bed stopped their befuddling and looked in his direction. “She refuses to eat Mr. Ian.”
“If it’s anything like the food I’ve been being served I don’t blame her at all.” Ian hobbled toward them, the nurse pulling a chair next to the bedside so he could sit himself down.
The woman in the bed refused to look at him. Half her face was putty; the other was twisted into a snarl. Ian picked up the plate cover and looked up at her. “This doesn’t look too bad. You can’t really ruin scrambled eggs.”
“She’s been having a little stomach trouble. We thought some scrambled eggs might stay down a little better.”
Ian put the cover aside and did his best to scoot both the tray and himself closer to her. “Have you not been feeling well, Miss Glo?”
She still refused to look at him. Ian reached out and took her chin, gently pulling her head to face him. He smiled at her, her eyes still refusing to meet his. “Believe it or not, I missed you.”
What little of her mouth that worked properly opened. “Scared…me...”
“Scared me, too.” Ian rubbed the back of his fingers on the cheek he knew she could feel. “I’d have been here sooner, but they had me chained up until now. Forgive me?”
She rolled her eyes; one performed perfectly, the other jerked slightly. She sighed.
Ian smiled. “I like your hair.”
He could tell she was pleased he noticed. “Tippy.” She got out.
“You look beautiful, Miss Virginia.” She reached with the hand she could move and took the one of his that worked. Ian looked to the nurse. “Thanks Daisy, why don’t you give us a chance to catch up?”
“Miss Glo, I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”
Gloria snorted. Nurse Daisy smiled and disappeared. “Now between the two of us we’ve got one good body…”
He could swear she fought back a smile. “Why don’t we try some of these eggs?” Ian released her hand and grabbed the fork, spearing some and aiming for her mouth. “Okay, old girl, you’re gonna have to help me.”
She gave him the eye roll, but opened her mouth and allowed him to feed her. She swallowed and scrunched up her face. “Eggs…cold…”
“Breath on them.” Ian said, heaping more eggs back on the fork.
“Don’t…me…laugh…”
“Don’t make you laugh?” Ian said. “You laugh? I don’t think so.”
He headed the loaded fork towards her mouth. Gloria put her hand up and stopped him. Her eyes dropped to her lap.
Ian put the fork down and grabbed her hand. “I know, Gloria. I feel the same way.” He kissed the back of her hand and put his head in her lap. She put her good hand in his hair and stroked it.
“What…do…now?”
He sighed. “I don’t know, Miss Glo. I don’t know. Carry on? Is there anything else we can do?”
“Care…full.”
“It wasn’t my fault. I’m not sure what happened or why it happened but I’m going to figure it out and make sure it never happens again.”
“Ronnie?”
“He’s good, sends his love. I’m just thankful he wasn’t home.”
“Good…boy.”
Ian smiled, sat up and looked at her. “Great boy. I am so blessed.”
“We…blessed…” She definitely smiled that time.
“Did you like your sign language book?”
Miss Glo gave him a hand signal that made him laugh out loud.
“I thought so.” Ian grabbed her hand and made her stop flashing her middle finger. “Gloria, I need you to get stronger with me. Please try.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Stop that.” Ian scowled. “I need you to get stronger so I can bring you home. I know you don’t like it here, but if you don’t try to care for yourself more I can’t get you out.”
“Why…”
“Just do it, you spiteful old dragon. If nothing else I need you to keep me safe from Ronnie’s cat.” Ian looked at the empty bed in the room. “So, do you like your roommate?”
He got a second helping of sign language. “Kill…you…”
“I thought you’d like it.” Once again, he put his hand over her outstretched finger. “Now, the nurse said you haven’t been feeling well. Are you okay?”
“Bug…”
“Just a flu? Are you sure?”
Gloria nodded her head and smiled. “You…”
“The meds make me thirsty and loopy, but I’m getting there.” She took his hand. “Thanks for asking. And now I have confession to make…”
She half grinned. “Good…dee…”
“I now know why you are so cranky before and after physical therapy. Between you and me, I’m not sure there is any reason to have body parts bent in those directions.” Gloria laughed out loud as best she could. He loved it when he made her laugh.
“After bringing me to tears, my therapist finally asked if there was anything they could do, so I suggested they wear black leather the next time so I could at least get some enjoyment out of it.”
“Naughty.”
Ian looked in her eyes. “I’m tired, Miss Glo. I so tired of all this.”
She nodded her head. “I…know…”
“It has to stop. I thought it all ended, but just when I least expect it…wham…there it goes again.” She pulled his hand to her lips and kissed it. “I have to protect Ronnie from it. I hired someone to live with us, to look out for us.”
“Big…guy…”
“Ripley, he’s out in the hall. Sweet wonderful man you would not want to mess with. Ronnie adores him. They play cards and board games. He lets Ronnie just climb all over him and I think he’d give his life for either one of us.”
“You…trust…”
“One of the few people in this world I trust with no reservations. Ironically, you’re one of the others so that doesn’t say much for my judgment of character.” She laughed again.
She got quiet, pulling his hand to her heart. “Clare?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I thought she’d try and get in touch with everything that happened. If she did, no one told me. I’m sure she’s still in California. I’ll find her.”
“Don’t…bad…girl…”
“She needs to at least know that you are here, and that you are doing oh so much better.”
“No…please…”
“Miss Gloria? You don’t want to see your daughter?”
“Keep…you…safe…”
“I don’t understand, Gloria. Clare won’t hurt me. By this time she knows we have no relationship. I feel sort of guilty. I was mean and cruel towards her, but it was the only way I could think of to get her to understand it was over.”
“Big…girl…”
“I know. She’s a big girl. She can take care of herself, but I’m worried. She may be struggling here somewhere and need help. I can at least do that much for her.”
“Soft…tee…”
“Meany…” Ian stuck out his tongue at her. “I need to get back. It takes me quite a bit longer to get around these days, and I want to track down your roomie and see how she’s doing.”
Gloria winked. “She…good…”
“I’m so glad they were able to find an agency to help her out.”
“Liar…” She smiled.
Ian put his finger up to his lips. “Our secret.”
“Rose…”
“Is there a problem with her grand daughter?”
“Fired…”
“She lost her job?”
Gloria nodded. “Time…off…”
Ian slumped back in his chair. “They fired her for taking time off while her grandmother had surgery?”
“Don’t…tell…”
“Don’t tell anyone or Miss Inez doesn’t know?”
“Both…help…”
“Now who’s a softy?” Ian slowly raised himself up enough to lean over and kiss her cheek. “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry. Now, not this weekend but next, if you’re a good girl we are going to see if the doctors will let me bring you home…just for the day.”
“Home?”
“We always have a big dinner on Saturday that seems to last until Sunday. Would you like that?”
“May…be…” Her face brightened with a half smile.
“That’s only if you’re good, and keep working to get stronger.” He pointed his finger at her.
She pointed hers right back. “You…too…”
“Me, too.” Ian brushed his fingers again down the cheek he knew she could feel. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Who…cares…” she grinned.
“Same here.” He hobbled toward the door spying Ripley engrossed in his novel. Nurse Daisy was quickly at his side. “So what’s the scoop? She’s had a flu?”
“A little bug, but her system fought it off surprisingly well.”
“I got her to eat a couple of bites of that egg, but she was right they were cold. Maybe she’ll take some hot soup now?”
“I’ll try.”
“Is Miss Inez around?”
“Her grand daughter took her out for a stroll. Shall I tell her you were asking about her?”
“Please do, and say I’m so sorry I missed her, but I need to get home. This little outing has just about done me in for the day. You’ve not heard anything from Miss Glo’s daughter?”
“Not a word.”
“Next weekend, I want to bring her to my house for the day, overnight if the doctor will okay it. I’d like to turn it into a regular event, hoping it will give her a reason to get stronger and not be so fussy. You tell her doctor that I’ll be in on Tuesday and I expect a full report. He can call Blake and set up a time.”
“Of course Mr. Ian.”
“If she needs anything, day or night, do not hesitate to call me. Miss Inez, too.”
“Of course. And how are you doing? Miss Glo was a wreck. Don’t tell her I said that though.”
Ian smiled. “I’m doing well, but I have to work at getting my stamina back, just like the dragon lady. Is there anything that she needs? I’m sure one of the family will be here tomorrow and I’ll make sure they bring it.”
“No. I think she’s fine. She enjoys the company though, especially Ronnie. She just lights up whenever he’s around.”
“He has that affect on people. Well, you have a good day. Thanks for taking care of Dragon Lady for me.”
“Actually, it’s my pleasure. She’s not nearly as surly as she thinks she is.”
“I’m glad you’re here to take care of her.” Ian smiled. “Be sure you tell Miss Inez and Rose Marie I was here, and tell Rose to give me a call. It’s important.”
Before he could move or even indicate, Ripley was right at Ian’s side holding out an arm to help ease him back to the car. Despite the fact that he didn’t want to, Ian fell asleep before they got out of the parking lot.
Dinner was wonderful, although they all admitted they missed lunch lotto. Ian enjoyed his after dinner smoke, on the patio by the pool. He quickly rebonded with Ralphie, who was so excited he couldn’t stop peeing.
Ian had finally meandered back inside, realizing that meandering was going to be his full speed for awhile. He had made it back to the couch and was happily looking through notes for the two meetings he had the next day.
The doctors were allowing him four hours at work three days a week with one day off in between. Tomorrow he needed to take full advantage of his four hours. Although constantly being informed and making final decisions from his hospital bed, there a few things that needed to be done face to face.
As he made a note on top of his notes, he heard a little pounce to the arm of the couch. He looked out of the corner of his eye, and chose to ignore the sound. He finished reading his paper and slid the pile back in his backpack on the coffee table before him.
He sighed and leaned back, the pouncer now in full vision. “I wondered when you’d rear your head.”
Rodie curled her tail around her haunches and meowed. She cocked her head then scratched at the ribbon around her neck.
“I see Tippy’s gotten her hands on you.” Ian chuckled. “The bow is a little much.”
The cat stepped off the arm and gracefully moved herself to the cushion beside Ian.
“That’s close enough.” He put up his hand. “I owe you, but that doesn’t mean we bond or anything. You are still a rodent fur ball. You’ve shown you can use your evil for good, but I still have doubts.”
Rodie cocked her head, curled up in a ball and tried to get comfortable with the pink ribbon and bow around her neck. She gave up and looked up into Ian’s eyes.
“Look, we’re even okay?” Ian told her. “I scooped you up out of the barn when like an idiot you didn’t follow your family to safety, and you made me bend down when I was dumb enough not to know there was a gun pointed at my head. Even, got it? We no longer have that Hindu Karma thing hanging between us. Now, go away…”
Rodie scratched at the bow again. She fussed and preened, determined to get comfortable.
“Oh, alright.” Ian pouted. “Don’t take this as anything other than knowing what it’s like to be uncomfortable. There will be no touchy feely stuff between us, understand?”
Rodie stood up allowing Ian to fumble a bit and get the ribbon loose from her neck. She did take advantage of the situation and rubbed her fuzzy cheek against his fingers.
“You’re welcome.” Ian surprised himself by reaching out and lightly rubbing his finger down her fur. Rodie responded with a very happy purr, but didn’t dare take a step toward him. She did however take a swat at the ribbon now dangling from Ian’s hand. It made him laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
Ian threw the ribbon across the room, and the cat made a mad dash after it. “Nothing.”
He looked up to see a wide grin on Reese’s face. Ian grinned back. “Hey buddy, did you make it home?”
“I see you did.” Reese reached down and gave Ian a soft hug. “You look…well…happy to be out of the hospital.”
“I am.” Ian responded as Reese took a seat beside him on the couch. “You look sleepy. Did you get any rest at all?”
Reese snorted. “Of course. It’s a long trip to make in just a few days.”
“How are Billy and Vonnie?”
“Doing well. I’m going back in a few days, pick them up and bring them for an extended visit.”
“Why did you even bother to come back? You should have just stayed until they were ready. Honeymoon’s not over, is it?” Ian eyed him.
Reese blushed. “No, but I had something I needed to bring back for you.”
“Reese, I told you no gifts. I am certainly glad to see you but…”
“Oh shut up.” Reese said and gently shoved him. “You can thank me later.”
Ian heard a throat clear. He turned his head around to see Jude standing there, Ronnie melted into his arms. “Are you happy to see me or is that plaster in yer pocket?”
He tried to stand. Reese had to help, but within moments the three; Ian, Jude and Ronnie were all a mass of joy, tears and hugs.
Ian didn’t want to let go. Jude didn’t either and Ronnie surely wasn’t. There were a million unanswered questions, but all they could think of was making sure that the other was truly there, standing in their presence and not leaving their arms ever again.
“Son, you look like crap.” Jude said clutching Ronnie and holding Ian tight.
“You don’t look much better.” Ian couldn’t let go. He’d never needed someone so close in his life, but he finally had to let go or fall down. “Are you hungry?”
“I’ll be fine. Miss Tippy is heating us up somethin’.” Jude put his grandson down, and finally took Ian in both his arms. “You ever scare me like that again an’ I’ll beat you like you never been beat before.”
“I had to do something to get you here.” Ian closed his eyes and took a deep breath relishing the scent of a good memory of home. “Maybe I went a little overboard.”
Jude finally pushed Ian back, holding his head with both hands and taking a good look. “Look at you, all skinny and peekid. I thought that hospital was supposed to be fixing you up. Looks ta me, like they done a half assed job.”
“He looks so much better now, Grampaw.”
“Well, if you say so, but if I thought diff’ernt I’d have to go whoop me some fancy doctor butt.”
“Do it anyway.” Ian grinned. “I dare ya.”
Jude shook his finger at him. “Aw yer awright boy. Here, let’s sit down. This old man’s tard.”
Ian allowed Jude and Ronnie to help him back to the couch. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” Ian wanted to know.
“I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“Everyone knew, but you Papa. We figured it was the best welcome home gift you could ever get.” Ronnie beamed.
“It is, Puppy. Thank you.” Ian turned back to Jude. “And now that he’s here, we’re not letting him go back.”
Jude put up his hands. “Let’s not argue, son. I just had to see you fer myself. This is some fancy place.”
“There’s plenty of room.”
“Shoot Grampaw, we got rooms we don’t know what to do with.” Ronnie bounced.
“Stand up fer me, Ronnie. Let yer Grampaw have a good look.” He smiled. “You have grown! Yer gonna be as purdy as yer Papa. I brought a little something fer ya.”
“For me?” Ronnie’s eyes lit up.
“Why don’t you run find yer Uncle Reese and help him bring in m’stachel?”
“You won’t go nowhere?”
“I’m right here, little man. The most I’ll go is to the kitchen when the food’s hot.”
“Okay, I’ll be right back.” Ronnie dashed out shouting for Reese.
Ian grabbed Jude’s arm. “So how are you doing?”
Jude nodded his head. “You and the boy’s the best medicine I’ll ever get.”
“You don’t look half bad for a sick old redneck.” Ian couldn’t help but wipe a tear from his cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Jude couldn’t respond. He just kept that tight smile on his face and nodded his head.
“Now, before Ronnie gets back, I’m just going to set the rules.” Ian was upfront and firm. “We’re going to make a few calls and find out…”
“Ian, I just want to be comfortable. That’s all. I ain’t gonna let my grandbaby watch me die. I ain’t gonna let you watch me die. I am here because I needed to see you and I miss the boy somethin’ terrible.”
“But while you are here, let’s just see what we can do to make you a little more comfortable.” Ian looked at him. “I can see the pain in your eyes, Jude.”
“Just as I can see it in yers.”
“Well, I’m due a handful of medication. What’s your excuse?” Ian raised one eyebrow. “You will not fight me on this Jude. I’m not going to make you stay, but as far as I’m concerned this is your home and quite frankly I’ve got you hostage for a little while.”
“Hostage?”
“How ya getting” home?” Ian smiled. “I know there’s not a lot of miracles out there, but let’s see if we can at least make whatever time we all have together as comfortable as possible. Will you let me do that for you? For Ronnie? For me?”
Jude nodded his head. “If it will make you happy, I’ll do just about anything.”
“Mr. Jude?” Jesse shyly interrupted. “Dinner’s ready.”
“Thank you.” Jude turned to Ian. “I have to admit, I could use a little bite. Do you mind?”
“You go right ahead.” Ian smiled. “I can see Mr. Subtlety there is sweating with a handful of pills he’s hoping I won’t put up a fuss about having to take.”
“You need me to pin him down while you shove ‘em down his throat? I got no problem with that.” Jude looked at Jesse for the first part and Ian for the second.
“No need. I won’t put up a fight.” Ian put out his hand and Jesse dropped a half dozen capsules in his hand. “But I’m going to warn you. I’m not supposed to know it, but one or two of these will knock me out for the rest of the night, so until I figure out which one’s which I will probably be a zombie by the time you finish your stew.”
“Well, as you pointed out.” Jude handed Ian a glass of water from the coffee table. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere fer a while.”
He stood and kissed Ian on the forehead. “I’ll go have me some supper, and you just relax and let us take care a you awhile longer. If nothin’ else I’ll see you in the mornin’.”
Jude got up and followed Jesse back to the dining room. “I cain’t get over how big this place is. It may take me a while to get used to it all.”
“Ian and Ronnie are so glad you’re here, Mr. Jude.” Jesse told him as he pulled out a chair for him at the table. “Thank you for coming. I think it’s just what everyone needed.”
“Ya’ll have taken good care of m’boys. I’m so ‘preciative.”
“Now, Ian didn’t make this.” Tippy said putting a steaming bowl in front of Jude. “But it’s pretty good if I do say so myself.”
“It was wonderful, Tippy.” Colton smiled and hugged his wife.
“Why don’t ya’ll sit with me while I eat?” Jude nodded to them. “I eat alone all the time. Comp’ny would be nice fer a change. I promise not to talk with m’mouth full.”
Tippy smiled and pulled out the chair across from him and took a seat. “How you feeling, Mr. Jude?”
Jude nodded his head as he took a spoonful of the hot stew. “This is good. Thank you.”
“Thursday’s are usually just simple meals for us. Weekends we do meals up right, a big family time. We’re excited to have you be a part of us now.” Tippy smiled.
Colton came back in the room with a second steaming bowl and placed it on the table. “The boys are bringing your bags in. Reese will be looking for some of his Mama’s stew soon.”
“They didn’t need to do that.” Jude looked up. “I just wanted one of ‘em to help Ronnie bring m’ satchel in so I could give him the little gift I brought em.”
“Hey, don’t you ever worry about having the young ones do the heavy stuff for you. That’s why God gave us children, to take the heavy load off those of us that aren’t quite so young anymore.” Colton smiled as he seated himself beside his wife.
“I guess they told on me?” Jude remained focused on his stew.
“Mr. Jude, that depends on what you’re talking about.” Tippy said softly. “The boys didn’t mean to embarrass you, but if you are referring to your health, then yes we know.”
“Ian needed someone to talk to.” Colton told him. “He’s become very important to us, and we’re glad that he felt he could share that with us. He was hoping we might know of somebody or someone that can help.”
Jude put his spoon down. “Well, I thank you for being there for Ian; Ronnie, too. Ian’s never been one to share his burdens. It does my heart good to know he’s learned to trust some.”
“No one has said anything to Ronnie about it.” Tippy put her hand on Jude’s. “He’s been staying with us. Ian made your wishes clear and we will always respect that.”
“I know that sooner or later, he’ll need to know, but right now…”
“Later is best for now.” Colton said. “Quickly before Ronnie comes running back in, I have referred Ian to a practice I know of. My best friend fought cancer for nine years. He was happy and comfortable right up the last minute.”
“It’s a group of doctors that specialize in this sort of thing.” Tippy smiled. “They never promise miracles, but they’ve got a sterling reputation working aggressive cancers with aggressive treatments. You’ll be in good hands.”
“Thank you.” Jude nodded his head. “You’ve taken such good care of Ian an’ m’granbaby. I don’t know what any of us would’a done without ya.”
“Mr. Jude…” Tippy looked at Colton, who smiled, and then looked back at Jude. “That’s what family is for. It took awhile for it to sink in with Ian, I hope you’ll be a little quicker to think of us that way.”
“We feel we already know so much about you.” Colton smiled. “I know we’re perfect strangers to you, but with Ronnie and Ian we all, the boys included, already think of you as part of us.”
Ronnie rushed into the dining room dragging an army issued satchel. “Is this want your looking for Grampaw?” He could barely contain the excitement.
“Why I do believe it is.” Jude put his spoon down as Reese sat down beside him and dug into his own bowl of stew. “Now, let’s see…” He dug around a little, finally pulling out two bright colored boxes, obviously wrapped by a man. He handed both of them to his grandson.
“Both for me?”
“Abs’lutely. Now don’t go getting too stirred up. They ain’t much.” He pointed to the biggest of the two. “Open that’n first.”
Ronnie ripped off the colored paper and his eyes lit up. “A art program for my lap top!”
“I know how much you like t’draw, so I had Billy go find me something where you kin do it right on yer computer.”
“That’s so cool!” Ronnie looked at the back of the box. “Says here I can print it out or email anywhere. Thank you Grampaw!”
“Let me see.” Tippy held out her hand.
“Now that other little box is sumpin’ old I found an’ thought you might like ta have.” Jude said as Ronnie ripped open the second box.
“Oh, Grampaw!” Ronnie looked in his hands. “They’re beautiful.”
“They was mine when I was yer age.” Jude said. “My daddy said that my Grampaw made ‘em fer me.”
Jude looked bittersweetly at the Indian and the Teepee made of copper. “They needs a good cleanin’. I found ‘em wrapped up in a old bandanna and tucked away in a box a Christmas stuff.”
“Your grandfather was a coppersmith?” Colton asked.
“That’s what m’ Daddy tol’ me. He died when I was young. I don’t remember him at’all. Knowing how important family is, ‘specially now, I thought I’d pass ‘em on.”
“I’ll take such good care of ‘em.” Ronnie looked up. “Someday, I’ll pass ‘em on to my little boy.”
Jude grinned. “You do that.”
“Let me finish eating, Ronnie and I’ll help you load that program on your laptop.” Reese said in between slurps.
“I’m gonna go show Papa!” Ronnie clutched the old toys to his chest and started to bolt, running right into Jesse. “Oops. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Jesse laughed. “Where you headed off to in such a hurry, Flash?”
“I’m gonna show Papa what Grampaw brought me!” Ronnie squealed and started to run.
Jesse grabbed him by the collar and held him spinning in place. “Too late, Bubba. Ian’s out like a light.”
Colton and Tippy looked at each other and high fived.
“I wouldn’t get too smug.” Jesse told his parents. “He’ll figure out which one it is, and it’ll be just like trying to give the cat a wormer. He’ll eat everything in the dish but the little white pill.”
“He won’t figure it out.” Colton grinned.
“I guarantee you he will.” Jess assured them.
“Tonight, I crushed it up and put it in his water.” Tippy giggled. “I figure we’ll find a way to slip it to him differently every night. Hopefully, by the time he figures it out, we won’t need to sedate him.”
“That’s awful sneaky.” Jude told her and grinned. “I like it!”
Reese looked up. “He’s not laying down flat is he?”
Jesse laughed. “No. He’s sitting up on the couch…” He giggled. “And your not going to believe this, so I got pictures…” He opened up his cell phone and passed it around.
“I think we’ve found his Christmas card.” Tippy laughed. “You know he’ll kill you if he ever sees that.”
She passed the phone to Colton and Reese, who almost choked on his stew. “We need to send this to everyone we know.”
“Oh no…” Jesse said. “I know good blackmail material when I see it.”
“Ooh…ooh…” Ronnie said with an evil smirk. “Send it to Uncle Blake. He can put it on
Papa’s desktop at work as his screen saver.”
Colton chuckled. “We can have a pool to see how long it takes him to notice.”
“What’s is it?” Jude was finally handed the camera. “Is that Ronnie’s cat?”
“Yup.” Jesse grinned. “Curled up in Ian’s lap sleeping away with him.”
“I never understood why he hates cats so.” Tippy said. “Any insight?”
“Well…” Jude wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I don’t think he ever cared fer ‘em much, but once’t a bully grabbed a stray cat by the tail, as I recall. He got the thing all riled up and started hittin’ Ian with it…”
“That’s awful!” Tippy was shocked.
“Miss Tippy, that jus’ one a too many awful things that got done to Ian.” Jude leaned back in his chair. “Ever’body on Lost Mountain was poor, but Ian an’ m’girls were the bottom a the heap. They was allus getting picked on and teased. Reckon that’s why they stuck together sa much.”
“I’m gonna go find a special place in my room for these.” Ronnie held up the copper toys, and was off.
Colton smiled. “That was the perfect gift, Jude, those toys.”
“I thought so. I think you should allus know where you come from. It helps to keep ya see a li’l better where yer goin’. I kin do that fer Ronnie.” Jude hung his head. “Wish I could do it fer Ian.”
Jesse pulled up a chair at the table. “Did you know his parents?”
“Just his Mama.” Jude said. “Nobody knowed anything ‘bout her. She was a orphan chil’ and the Ransom family tuck her in and raised her as they own.”
“And Ian’s father?” Jesse asked.
Jude shook his head. “A lot a people thunk it was me, wish I had that honor, but I don’t. All I know is Lylah, that’s Ian’s mama, runned away when she was a teenager. It tuck a li’l while, but they tracked her down an’ brought her back. She wudn’t home long afore we realized she was pregnant.”
“So it was someone she met then?”
“You are awful full of questions, Jesse.” Tippy looked at her youngest. “Usually I’m the one pumping for information.”
“Sorry.” Jesse said. “Ian never talks about his past much. Now that we’ve got a link to it at the table…”
“It’s fine, Jesse.” Jude assured him. “I don’t know that much more than Ian, but if I know the answer I don’ mind the question.”
“You know, there is a little mystery you may be able to solve for us.” Tippy remembered. “Have you seen the pictures in Ian’s locket?”
“Ian’s locket?” Jude looked at her.
“The one he wears around his neck all the time.” Reese said.
“Sorry, I ain’t never seed it.” Jude said.
“He said it was something his grandmother gave to him. There was a picture of a woman and a baby inside.” Tippy said.
“Ian assumed it was his baby picture and his mother, but it turned out if you looked close enough, the baby was a girl.”
“We think now it’s his mother, Lylah is that want you said her name was?” Colton added. “And maybe her mother.”
“Sounds like you got that mystery solved then.” Jude said.
“That’s not the mystery.” Tippy said. “The locket got dropped in chocolate sauce or something one night, and we found out the scratches on it was actually an engraving.”
Jude sat up. “Don’t tell me. It spelled out his name?”
The family all looked at each other. “How did you know?”
“Then Billy hain’t said nothing to you ‘bout the pitcher?”
“What pitcher?” Tippy asked.
“You mean that silver peuter pitcher that belonged to Ian’s Aunt Hil?” Reese asked.
“That’s the one.” Jude confirmed.
“You found that?” Reese asked and Jude nodded his head. “We assumed it was gone. Ian gave that to Janie and the last we saw it she carried it over to the house.”
“Well, that ‘splanes that mystery.” Jude said. “Billy’s daughter found it out in the field, and we put it in stuff ya’ll brought back after we cleaned up.”
“It must still be in the boxes.” Tippy said. “There are a bunch of boxes in the little room off the pantry.”
“Billy and I brought them all in a put them there until Ian was ready to go through them.”
“Then everything happened and they’re still just sitting there.” Jesse said.
“Well that pitcher’s got Ian’s name engraved on the bottom.” Jude said. “Don’t rightly know how no one ever spotted it afore.”
The Shores all exchanged glances.
“Is it possible that Ian’s Aunt Hil had the pitcher engraved?” Tippy asked.
“I reckon it’s possible, but quite hones’ly I don’t think she’d ever think ta do that, and I don’t rightly know where’d someone’d go in Lost Mountain ta have it done.” Jude rubbed his hand across his chin. “Plus, if Miz Hil had the money to do that sorta thing, I doubt that puttin’ somebody’s name on the bottom of a old pitcher would pop right into her head.”
Tippy nodded. “We thought maybe Ian’s grandmother might have had his locket engraved. The lettering was so worn and faded, we didn’t notice until Ian’s little mishap with it.”
“Is it possible the two are connected somehow?” Reese looked up finishing his stew.
“Well, I don’t rightly know fer sure. I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout a locket, but as fer as that ol’ pitcher goes, Miz Hilary always had it. Sat right up on the window sill unless it was a holiday er a special occasion.”
“Both could have been handed down from some family member.” Colton said.
“Certainly, but why would Ian’s name be on them? Anyone who owned those two pieces surely never even imagined Ian, let alone had the foresight to engrave his name on them.” Tippy drummed her fingernails on the table. “Well, we won’t solve that mystery tonight. Let me wash up these dishes, and then Mr. Jude, I’ll help you get settled in.”
“Thank ya kindly.” Jude smiled.
“Let me give you a hand.” Colton followed his wife into the kitchen.
“And if you’ll excuse me.” Reese stood up. “I’d better go help Ronnie with that Art program like I promised.”
“Guess that leaves you an’ me, then Jesse.” Jude smiled. “So ‘xactly what’s on yer mind?”
Jesse smiled. “Nothing, sir. Just curious. It’s not often that you meet someone with a connection to someone who doesn’t seem to have much of a past.”
“You talkin’ ‘bout Ian?” Jesse shyly nodded his head. “He’s got a past son. It’s just that most of it, sorry to say don’t bring up a lot of happy mem’ries.”
“I understand that.” Jesse smiled. “I guess sometimes I just feel bad. It seems we all talk about something from our past, or relatives…”
“And when you do, you can see that look in Ian’s eyes.” Jude nodded his head slightly. “I’m trying to help with’at. I’ve searched ever inch of Hil’s place and mine. I was sure they’d be somethin’ that could at least tell us where to look.”
“You’ve found nothing?”
“Nary a thing. Lylah’s bus ticket stub is even missin’.” Jude said.
“Bus ticket?”
“When Ian was born and agin when his mama died, we tried to track down his Daddy. The only thing any of us knowed was she went to a little town down South. Thought if nothin’ else someone might recognize a picture of ‘er.”
“You have a picture of Ian’s mother?” Jesse couldn’t hide the shock.
Jude smiled. “Twernt many that I recall, but I did find one.”
Jude reached for his wallet and pulled out a creased photo and handed it to Jesse. “That’s Lylah and Ian. He was six months old, er that’s what someone wrote on the back.”
“She was beautiful.”
“Ian looks s’much like her. That coal black hair, and them eyes. His’n’s a little more blue. She was a tiny li’l slip of a thing. Reckon Ian must get his height from his Daddy.”
“He’s just a little above average.”
“But his Mama was tiny, tiny, tiny…barely five foot.”
“And you don’t know anything about his father at all?”
“Lylah wouldn’t discuss it, only that she loved him with all her heart. She’d a prob’ly stayed wif him, but Miz Lillian, that’s the woman who raised her, tracked ‘er down and drug ‘er back, kickin’ and screamin’ the whole way.”
“You don’t know where she went?” Jesse handed the picture back.
“Not fer sure, but seems I remember Miz Hil sayin’ something about Texas. That’s why I was hopin’ ta find that bus ticket, might give Ian a place ta start lookin’.”
“You’re going to give that picture to Ian?”
Jude nodded his head. “You know he didn’t even know her name fer sure until Miz Hil died and we sit down an talked. I don’t reckon he’d ever even see’d a picture of her.”
“Jude, would you let me do something if I asked you?”
“Well…depends on what it is.”
“Would you let me have that picture?” Jesse saw the look on Jude’s face. “I thought I could take it over to my computer at home and work on it some. It’s badly faded. It’s kind of a hobby of mine, restoring old photographs. I could blow it up and clean it up, make it look like it was brand new.”
“You kin do that?”
Jesse smiled. “Sure. It’s actually pretty simple. I could have it done by the time I turn in for the night. I’ll get a frame for it and we can wrap it up. I think Ian would love to have a picture of his mother.”
“I reckon that’s be wonderful, Jesse.” Jude said. “I’d be happy ta pay ya fer yer trouble.”
“Absolutely not.” Jesse slipped the photograph Jude handed over into his shirt pocket. “My payment will be the look on Ian’s face when he sees it.”
Vignette #168: Every Minute
"We may have a problem.”
Bruno wasn’t happy. “What sort of problem?”
“We found Ella earlier this afternoon.”
“And?”
“This may be a little difficult to just dismiss. You got a little messy, and missed something.”
Bruno laughed. “I never miss anything. Granted she was harder to squash than Mighty Mouse, but I finally managed it. She didn’t know anything, I’m certain of it.”
“Maybe, maybe not, anyway she’s dead.”
“And unidentifiable. I made sure of it. No one’s going to worry about another dead hooker.”
“Then why suddenly is everyone interested in the case?”
“What?” Balouche sat up.
“All I know for sure is, the captain walked in the office ordering Mitchell and I to turn over all evidence and then in no uncertain terms to back off.”
“For a dead Jane Doe?”
“You missed something Bruno…now this whole thing may just implode.”
“I forgot nothing!” He slammed his hand down on his desk, then looked around to make sure it didn’t attract anyone’s attention.
“Ella left a message.”
“No she didn’t…wait a minute. Her purse, I never went back and looked for the purse.”
“Not it. My guess is it’s in river or some bag lady’s shopping cart. She scrawled a message on the wall she was leaning up against.”
“I admit I thought she was gone, so I left for a few minutes and came back. I saw her smearing her blood on the cement, but she leaned against the wall. I’d have smeared it unreadable myself, but her own head managed to do that for me.”
“She was wearing a linen blouse, you asshole. It wasn’t totally readable but her blood was fresh enough to soak right in and she had enough life left in her to pull away from the wall before her own brain washed away all traces.”
“She fingered us?” Bruno was nervous.
“No, but the one readable word was enough to warrant someone else handling the case. I think they’re connecting Blue and Ella together.”
“Why?”
“Hutton, you idiot. The first word she scrawled was Hutton…”
“They’ll never identify her. She was too clean. They won’t be able to match fingerprints, I made sure that was the only way they could identify her.”
“Let’s hope so.” He took a deep breath. “We’ve covered our tracks too well, the only connection they can make is the name Hutton, they can’t connect anything else unless they make an identification.”
Bruno thought a moment and smiled. “You’re probably right.”
“I think we should back off for awhile.”
That was exactly what Bruno wanted to hear. “You’re right. Just in case, let’s do a little clean up. Call me when you think we can get together and close down the apartment.”
“Yeah, that’s best. No need to take chances. I’ll keep my eyes out here, make sure they don’t make anymore connections.”
“We’ll ditch everything from the apartment and then when the dust has settled, we’ll hit hard and fast one more time.”
“Once we get that apartment cleared out, maybe there’s a way we can use it to implicate Justyn in all this after all. He was meant to be the fall guy for the paycheck scam, I’m sure I can figure out a way for him to take the fall for everything else.”
“I have every confidence in you. You’ve been the brains so far.”
“It was your idea. I just figured out how to do it. Give me 48 hours and then we’ll meet up at the apartment.”
“You got it.” Bruno smiled as he closed his cell phone. He couldn’t help but laugh. P.T. Barnum was right. There is a sucker born every minute.
He checked to make sure no one could over hear his conversation and then made another call. “Clare? I think you’re right, dear. Go ahead and do what you think is best. You let me know when it’s time and I’ll carry it through, just like you planned.”
Bruno rolled his eyes while she chatted awhile. He finally got her off the phone, convinced she had made the plan and that was calling all the shots.
He tossed his cell phone down on his desk and propped his feet up. As he slipped his hands behind his head he sighed in happiness. “Clare, Clare, Clare…you are even dumber than Peyton Balouche.”
Bruno wasn’t happy. “What sort of problem?”
“We found Ella earlier this afternoon.”
“And?”
“This may be a little difficult to just dismiss. You got a little messy, and missed something.”
Bruno laughed. “I never miss anything. Granted she was harder to squash than Mighty Mouse, but I finally managed it. She didn’t know anything, I’m certain of it.”
“Maybe, maybe not, anyway she’s dead.”
“And unidentifiable. I made sure of it. No one’s going to worry about another dead hooker.”
“Then why suddenly is everyone interested in the case?”
“What?” Balouche sat up.
“All I know for sure is, the captain walked in the office ordering Mitchell and I to turn over all evidence and then in no uncertain terms to back off.”
“For a dead Jane Doe?”
“You missed something Bruno…now this whole thing may just implode.”
“I forgot nothing!” He slammed his hand down on his desk, then looked around to make sure it didn’t attract anyone’s attention.
“Ella left a message.”
“No she didn’t…wait a minute. Her purse, I never went back and looked for the purse.”
“Not it. My guess is it’s in river or some bag lady’s shopping cart. She scrawled a message on the wall she was leaning up against.”
“I admit I thought she was gone, so I left for a few minutes and came back. I saw her smearing her blood on the cement, but she leaned against the wall. I’d have smeared it unreadable myself, but her own head managed to do that for me.”
“She was wearing a linen blouse, you asshole. It wasn’t totally readable but her blood was fresh enough to soak right in and she had enough life left in her to pull away from the wall before her own brain washed away all traces.”
“She fingered us?” Bruno was nervous.
“No, but the one readable word was enough to warrant someone else handling the case. I think they’re connecting Blue and Ella together.”
“Why?”
“Hutton, you idiot. The first word she scrawled was Hutton…”
“They’ll never identify her. She was too clean. They won’t be able to match fingerprints, I made sure that was the only way they could identify her.”
“Let’s hope so.” He took a deep breath. “We’ve covered our tracks too well, the only connection they can make is the name Hutton, they can’t connect anything else unless they make an identification.”
Bruno thought a moment and smiled. “You’re probably right.”
“I think we should back off for awhile.”
That was exactly what Bruno wanted to hear. “You’re right. Just in case, let’s do a little clean up. Call me when you think we can get together and close down the apartment.”
“Yeah, that’s best. No need to take chances. I’ll keep my eyes out here, make sure they don’t make anymore connections.”
“We’ll ditch everything from the apartment and then when the dust has settled, we’ll hit hard and fast one more time.”
“Once we get that apartment cleared out, maybe there’s a way we can use it to implicate Justyn in all this after all. He was meant to be the fall guy for the paycheck scam, I’m sure I can figure out a way for him to take the fall for everything else.”
“I have every confidence in you. You’ve been the brains so far.”
“It was your idea. I just figured out how to do it. Give me 48 hours and then we’ll meet up at the apartment.”
“You got it.” Bruno smiled as he closed his cell phone. He couldn’t help but laugh. P.T. Barnum was right. There is a sucker born every minute.
He checked to make sure no one could over hear his conversation and then made another call. “Clare? I think you’re right, dear. Go ahead and do what you think is best. You let me know when it’s time and I’ll carry it through, just like you planned.”
Bruno rolled his eyes while she chatted awhile. He finally got her off the phone, convinced she had made the plan and that was calling all the shots.
He tossed his cell phone down on his desk and propped his feet up. As he slipped his hands behind his head he sighed in happiness. “Clare, Clare, Clare…you are even dumber than Peyton Balouche.”
Vignette #167: Ian's Choices
“I got a call from Scott Topper today.” David Turner mentioned as he put the rest of the paperwork into his attaché.
“Oh?”
“He asked for Simon Kent, fortunately he then asked for you and they transferred the call to my office.”
“I guess that slipped my mind.” Ian admitted. “Sorry, for some reason anything with the name Simon Kent attached self-deleted from my memory banks.”
“He says he’s very interested. I told him I would be speaking with you today and I’d call him back. You want to let me know what’s going on?”
“Kent’s pilot…”
“The God awful thing with the women in bras shooting up Laguna Beach?”
Ian laughed. “Actually yes. Have you by any chance seen the original script before Kent’s people got hold of it?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“That script had potential. I think if we went back to the original title and the original concept, it could be a winner.” Ian signed one more document and handed it back, where it was placed with the others.
“You actually saw something in that garbage that made you track down the original script?”
“Yes. It had this quirky maze like mystery, dump all the surgically enhanced mannequins reciting monosyllable dialogue, and I think there might be something compatible with “Hollow Points”.
“Having a Scott Tupper project on our schedule would bring another demographic to the fold.” Turner admitted. “I don’t see it, but if you do and Tupper does…”
“If it hadn’t piqued Tupper’s interest I would have just let it die. The money spent on the original pilot is wasted, but it was an in house project so I’d like to give Scott Tupper a crack at it.”
Turner nodded. “I’ll make I happen.”
“Thank you.” Ian said. “Now, along those lines, I need to find out if something that I’ve been asked to do, that I want to do is legal, as far as my contractual agreements with HRT.”
“You’re not thinking of leaving us already…”
“No…no…absolutely not. I understand my place here, and cherish it, but a couple of friends and I have found a film script. We are financing it ourselves…I’m just not sure if I can legally be a part of a production agreement while under contract to HRT.”
“These friends, are they bound contractually to any other studios?”
“No, just me…and I’ve signed the writer of the script to a retainer. It’s another Jenson Michael script.”
Turner nodded his head. “That man will be a legend in less than a year.” He sighed with a smile. “As long as you haven’t signed a deal directly with another company, you are free to do what you like. I would hope that you would give our distribution department first look rights, out of courtesy….”
“Absolutely, but I can tell you in all honesty that this isn’t anything that HRT would be interested in. In fact, even after we get this done, my guess is that it’s going to be pretty difficult to get distribution.”
“But you feel strongly enough to make the film anyway?”
“If we don’t no one will, and someone has to do this. I want it to be me. I didn’t realize how much until I got asked to be a part of it.”
“What do you have lined up?”
“It’s still very much in the ‘hey kids, let’s put on a show’ stage, but we have a script and two of the three leads and seriously that may be about as far as we get. This project is raw, raw but dynamic, I’m sure most people wouldn’t even touch it.”
“Rather risky for a novice…”
“But one I am willing to take. If I’m not getting into any legal risk with HRT, I’m free to pursue this, and I will pursue it to the end. Live or die.”
“Financing going to be a problem?”
“Ironically, I don’t think so. It won’t be an expensive film, and between the three of us committed we will literally only be risking our own bank accounts.”
“Director attached?”
“No, although Jeremy says he’ll do it if he has to to get it made.”
“Jeremy Tyson?”
“Yes.”
“He’s the committed partner?”
“Yes and Saxon Allen.”
“Ian, with people like that committed, you shouldn’t have any problem getting any one involved. They’ll be falling over themselves…”
“You’d think, but this is not your ordinary Jeremy Tyson action film and nowhere near a Saxon Allen romantic comedy. Mr. Turner this could easily be “Heaven’s Gate” only with drugs, graphic sex and an barely hopeful ending.”
Turner tapped his cane of the floor and chewed on his thoughts a moment. “The three of you believe in this project strongly enough to risk ending two brilliant careers and killing another just as it’s getting started?”
“Yes sir.”
“Okay, I’m in, too…”
“Excuse me?”
“You need a director, don’t you?”
“Well, yes…”
“I’m a director. I haven’t as much as directed a television commercial since before you were born, but I achieved a little respect.”
“Mr. Turner, I think 2 Oscars and 6 Emmys adds up to achieving just a bit more than a little respect.”
“So let me on board and you’ve gained a distribution guarantee.”
“I would love to call Jeremy and Saxon right now and say guess what my uncle’s gonna let us use his barn, but I can’t accept your offer. Mr. Turner, you don’t know the story…”
“Give me a script, and the right to back out if either of us thinks it’s something an old codger like me can’t handle.”
“I have no doubt you could handle it, I just think that maybe you wouldn’t want to.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. Make the call….”
Ian took Mr. Turner’s cell phone and dialed Blake’s number. He asked Blake to make another copy of the “Quarters” script and messenger it to Mr. Turner’s home address. Mr. Turner patted Ian on the head, and told him he would speak to him in the morning. He’d be joining in with the morning power conference call, and then they would meet to discuss projects.
“I look forward to working with you my boy. It’s time for an old dog to teach a new one all the tricks…” he said as he walked out the door.
Ian heard Turner say goodnight to Ripley, who peeked his head in. “Mr. Ian, I’ll be saying goodnight as well. Noseworthy’s here, and I’ll be calling it a night.”
“Ripley…could you sit a minute?” Ian asked.
“Of course.” He took a seat next to the window.
“How’s your sister? Feeling better?”
“Yes, thank you for asking.”
“Uh…Ripley…I’m going to be going home soon…I know I’ve been fighting and whining about wanting my space and privacy and I do want those things, but now that it’s going to happen I have to admit that…”
“Maybe it’s not such a good idea?”
“No…it is a good idea…I can’t continue to be a victim, but I’m swallowing my pride and admitting that I can’t do it alone…”
“Are you asking me to marry you, sir?”
Ian laughed, “Oh but that we were the marrying kind, Ripley…actually I want to hire you, full time…”
“Excuse me?”
“I know you have a good job with Kellen, and money’s not an object. I just got a massive promotion and a whopping raise. I can match his salary and benefits package, and pretty sure I can exceed it as well. We could even work it out so you could still work for him if you want. “
Ian admitted. “Basically, I want someone I trust and that I like at the house. You wouldn’t be on guard duty twenty-four hours a day, but you wouldn’t be a paid companion either. You could come and go as you please. You be more of a personal assistant, do things I can’t do either on my own or for whatever reason…”
“You mean live in the house with you?”
“Yes and Ronnie, he adores you and I trust you with him. There is plenty of room, I could hire someone to renovate so you’d have your own private quarters eventually. It would just comfort me, let me rest easy knowing that someone I trust, someone I consider a part of my family was there, watching out for me when I get stupid…”
“Mr. Ian…”
“I know it’s a lot to ask, but you’re the only one I trust enough to make the offer to…”
“I’d be honored.”
“You would?”
“Yes. And quite frankly, I’ll get a little more peace of mind being there. You’re a quite little devil, emphasis on the devil part…”
“I’m sure there will be some kinks to work out…”
“Mr. Ian, about Ronnie…”
Ian leaned back on the inclined bed. “Is there going to be a problem?”
“No.” Ripley put his elbows on his knees and his hands together. “No, not at all. I just wanted to tell you that the fact that you trust me with him, that you think it’s okay for a guy like me to be around him and consider me a part of the family. I don’t know what to say.”
“Ripley, you don’t have to say anything. You’re actions have spoken so much louder than any words. I don’t expect you to be a “manny” or whatever they call it, in fact I’m not exactly sure what your duties include, except that you be there, being you making sure that we’re safe.”
“As long as I’m around, be assured nothing will ever happen to you or Ronnie that I can possibly prevent.”
“That’s all I ask. Of course, if something should happen to the cat…” Ian reached out his hand and Ripley shook it. “Now go. Go get some rest, see your sister and tomorrow we’ll start figuring it all out.”
“Thank you, Ian.” Ripley stood and walked to the door. He started to stop and say something, but Ian got the feeling he was a little emotional about it. Ripley just nodded his head and left.
“Oh?”
“He asked for Simon Kent, fortunately he then asked for you and they transferred the call to my office.”
“I guess that slipped my mind.” Ian admitted. “Sorry, for some reason anything with the name Simon Kent attached self-deleted from my memory banks.”
“He says he’s very interested. I told him I would be speaking with you today and I’d call him back. You want to let me know what’s going on?”
“Kent’s pilot…”
“The God awful thing with the women in bras shooting up Laguna Beach?”
Ian laughed. “Actually yes. Have you by any chance seen the original script before Kent’s people got hold of it?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“That script had potential. I think if we went back to the original title and the original concept, it could be a winner.” Ian signed one more document and handed it back, where it was placed with the others.
“You actually saw something in that garbage that made you track down the original script?”
“Yes. It had this quirky maze like mystery, dump all the surgically enhanced mannequins reciting monosyllable dialogue, and I think there might be something compatible with “Hollow Points”.
“Having a Scott Tupper project on our schedule would bring another demographic to the fold.” Turner admitted. “I don’t see it, but if you do and Tupper does…”
“If it hadn’t piqued Tupper’s interest I would have just let it die. The money spent on the original pilot is wasted, but it was an in house project so I’d like to give Scott Tupper a crack at it.”
Turner nodded. “I’ll make I happen.”
“Thank you.” Ian said. “Now, along those lines, I need to find out if something that I’ve been asked to do, that I want to do is legal, as far as my contractual agreements with HRT.”
“You’re not thinking of leaving us already…”
“No…no…absolutely not. I understand my place here, and cherish it, but a couple of friends and I have found a film script. We are financing it ourselves…I’m just not sure if I can legally be a part of a production agreement while under contract to HRT.”
“These friends, are they bound contractually to any other studios?”
“No, just me…and I’ve signed the writer of the script to a retainer. It’s another Jenson Michael script.”
Turner nodded his head. “That man will be a legend in less than a year.” He sighed with a smile. “As long as you haven’t signed a deal directly with another company, you are free to do what you like. I would hope that you would give our distribution department first look rights, out of courtesy….”
“Absolutely, but I can tell you in all honesty that this isn’t anything that HRT would be interested in. In fact, even after we get this done, my guess is that it’s going to be pretty difficult to get distribution.”
“But you feel strongly enough to make the film anyway?”
“If we don’t no one will, and someone has to do this. I want it to be me. I didn’t realize how much until I got asked to be a part of it.”
“What do you have lined up?”
“It’s still very much in the ‘hey kids, let’s put on a show’ stage, but we have a script and two of the three leads and seriously that may be about as far as we get. This project is raw, raw but dynamic, I’m sure most people wouldn’t even touch it.”
“Rather risky for a novice…”
“But one I am willing to take. If I’m not getting into any legal risk with HRT, I’m free to pursue this, and I will pursue it to the end. Live or die.”
“Financing going to be a problem?”
“Ironically, I don’t think so. It won’t be an expensive film, and between the three of us committed we will literally only be risking our own bank accounts.”
“Director attached?”
“No, although Jeremy says he’ll do it if he has to to get it made.”
“Jeremy Tyson?”
“Yes.”
“He’s the committed partner?”
“Yes and Saxon Allen.”
“Ian, with people like that committed, you shouldn’t have any problem getting any one involved. They’ll be falling over themselves…”
“You’d think, but this is not your ordinary Jeremy Tyson action film and nowhere near a Saxon Allen romantic comedy. Mr. Turner this could easily be “Heaven’s Gate” only with drugs, graphic sex and an barely hopeful ending.”
Turner tapped his cane of the floor and chewed on his thoughts a moment. “The three of you believe in this project strongly enough to risk ending two brilliant careers and killing another just as it’s getting started?”
“Yes sir.”
“Okay, I’m in, too…”
“Excuse me?”
“You need a director, don’t you?”
“Well, yes…”
“I’m a director. I haven’t as much as directed a television commercial since before you were born, but I achieved a little respect.”
“Mr. Turner, I think 2 Oscars and 6 Emmys adds up to achieving just a bit more than a little respect.”
“So let me on board and you’ve gained a distribution guarantee.”
“I would love to call Jeremy and Saxon right now and say guess what my uncle’s gonna let us use his barn, but I can’t accept your offer. Mr. Turner, you don’t know the story…”
“Give me a script, and the right to back out if either of us thinks it’s something an old codger like me can’t handle.”
“I have no doubt you could handle it, I just think that maybe you wouldn’t want to.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. Make the call….”
Ian took Mr. Turner’s cell phone and dialed Blake’s number. He asked Blake to make another copy of the “Quarters” script and messenger it to Mr. Turner’s home address. Mr. Turner patted Ian on the head, and told him he would speak to him in the morning. He’d be joining in with the morning power conference call, and then they would meet to discuss projects.
“I look forward to working with you my boy. It’s time for an old dog to teach a new one all the tricks…” he said as he walked out the door.
Ian heard Turner say goodnight to Ripley, who peeked his head in. “Mr. Ian, I’ll be saying goodnight as well. Noseworthy’s here, and I’ll be calling it a night.”
“Ripley…could you sit a minute?” Ian asked.
“Of course.” He took a seat next to the window.
“How’s your sister? Feeling better?”
“Yes, thank you for asking.”
“Uh…Ripley…I’m going to be going home soon…I know I’ve been fighting and whining about wanting my space and privacy and I do want those things, but now that it’s going to happen I have to admit that…”
“Maybe it’s not such a good idea?”
“No…it is a good idea…I can’t continue to be a victim, but I’m swallowing my pride and admitting that I can’t do it alone…”
“Are you asking me to marry you, sir?”
Ian laughed, “Oh but that we were the marrying kind, Ripley…actually I want to hire you, full time…”
“Excuse me?”
“I know you have a good job with Kellen, and money’s not an object. I just got a massive promotion and a whopping raise. I can match his salary and benefits package, and pretty sure I can exceed it as well. We could even work it out so you could still work for him if you want. “
Ian admitted. “Basically, I want someone I trust and that I like at the house. You wouldn’t be on guard duty twenty-four hours a day, but you wouldn’t be a paid companion either. You could come and go as you please. You be more of a personal assistant, do things I can’t do either on my own or for whatever reason…”
“You mean live in the house with you?”
“Yes and Ronnie, he adores you and I trust you with him. There is plenty of room, I could hire someone to renovate so you’d have your own private quarters eventually. It would just comfort me, let me rest easy knowing that someone I trust, someone I consider a part of my family was there, watching out for me when I get stupid…”
“Mr. Ian…”
“I know it’s a lot to ask, but you’re the only one I trust enough to make the offer to…”
“I’d be honored.”
“You would?”
“Yes. And quite frankly, I’ll get a little more peace of mind being there. You’re a quite little devil, emphasis on the devil part…”
“I’m sure there will be some kinks to work out…”
“Mr. Ian, about Ronnie…”
Ian leaned back on the inclined bed. “Is there going to be a problem?”
“No.” Ripley put his elbows on his knees and his hands together. “No, not at all. I just wanted to tell you that the fact that you trust me with him, that you think it’s okay for a guy like me to be around him and consider me a part of the family. I don’t know what to say.”
“Ripley, you don’t have to say anything. You’re actions have spoken so much louder than any words. I don’t expect you to be a “manny” or whatever they call it, in fact I’m not exactly sure what your duties include, except that you be there, being you making sure that we’re safe.”
“As long as I’m around, be assured nothing will ever happen to you or Ronnie that I can possibly prevent.”
“That’s all I ask. Of course, if something should happen to the cat…” Ian reached out his hand and Ripley shook it. “Now go. Go get some rest, see your sister and tomorrow we’ll start figuring it all out.”
“Thank you, Ian.” Ripley stood and walked to the door. He started to stop and say something, but Ian got the feeling he was a little emotional about it. Ripley just nodded his head and left.
Vignette #166: Jane Doe
“What have we got?” Andy asked Balouche already on the scene.
“Jane Doe, we’ll do the usual.” Balouche lit up a Marlboro. “Take a few pictures, haul the body away and not waste anymore time.”
The junior partner stepped toward the body and crouched down. The smell was overwhelming. He should have been used to it by now, but every time the stench found a new way to turn his stomach.
“This looks pretty brutal, Balouche.”
“Probably just a hooker picking up a john hopped up on something. Got ugly, left an even uglier mess. No need to spend unnecessary tax dollars. We’ll write it up and unless something unusual pops up, we move on. Too much going on in this town to spin our wheels on a dead end.”
“I don’t see a purse or any sort of identification.”
“I doubt we’ll find anything. If we’re lucky her fingerprints will turn up a name. If not maybe someday someone will come looking for her.” He crouched down beside his partner and looked at the decaying corpse. “Not much of a face left, doubt anyone would recognize her.”
“Shame.” Andy stood. “Everyone deserves justice, especially for something this brutal.”
“Just fill out the paperwork and walk away. It’s a little more brutal than normal. Someone crushed her face in, otherwise it’s just more of the same.”
Andy sighed and stood “CSI finished up?”
Balouche nodded. “You might as well go back to the office and sharpen your pencil. I’ll take a few more notes and that’ll be it.”
A mousey man with thick glasses slipped back under the yellow tape. “You finally decide to make an appearance?” He directed toward Andy.
“Came as soon as I got the call.”
“Must have been doing something, Balouche made it here an hour ago.”
“Got here as soon as I could. Anything unusual, or is this as run of the mill as Balouche says.” Andy looked over at Balouche who had wondered away from the scene and was on his cell phone.
“This is anything but run of the mill, Andy.”
“Balouche says…”
“Screw Balouche. The victim died here, but there’s a trail of blood and chaos at least a mile long in this maze. My guess is the killer thought the woman was dead, she obviously dragged herself or crawled into this dead end. The killer came back, found her still alive and crushed her skull in with his boot.”
“What makes you say that?”
The man jerked his head, signaling Andy to follow him. They crouched down over the body again. “See here? The perp took the time to wipe his feet off with her sleeve. She was leaned up against the brick wall and then slumped over after he took his heel to her face.”
Andy looked up and around. “What’s this?” He pointed to the wall. “It looks like writing.”
“Probably just some graffiti. The blood and brain matter from her head has covered most of it.”
He bent closer and shook his head. “Newman take a closer look at this. There’s lettering written in blood.”
Newman cocked his head. “Barker, you get a good shot of this wall?” When the photographer nodded, he looked back at the body. “The index finger of her left hand looks like she dipped it in blood.”
“Was she trying to leave a message?” Andy looked at him.
Newman scrapped several places on the wall and dropped the shavings into marked plastic bags. “Don’t know if we’ll ever know for sure.”
“What are you jerk offs doing?” Balouche appeared.
“Looks like the victim tried to leave a message of some kind.” Newman continued taking samples from the wall.
“Don’t waste more time, Newman.” Balouche scolded. “The body’s been here a long while, we’re probably not the first to run across it. Some kids who watch ‘Ghost Hunters’ probably thought it was funny.”
“Peyton,” Andy tried to convince him. “Look at her finger, she definitely was trying to write something on this wall in her own blood.” Balouche rolled his eyes. “Take a look yourself.”
The senior partner bent over and glanced at the wall. “I don’t see anything that can’t be explained by normal blood patterns. As for her index finger, she probably touched herself. Stop wasting time, wrap it up.” Balouche stepped over the body and walked out of sight.
Newman looked at Andy. “The Big Kahuna has spoken, but get as many pictures as possible.”
Two men approached with a gurney and a body bag. “Can we get the body to the lab now?”
Reluctantly Andy nodded. He stared at the wall as the men busied themselves. Andy turned to look at them when he heard the plastic bag unzip. “Wait!”
The men stopped immediately. “Newman, look at the victim’s height compared to the writing on the wall.”
“What?” Newman was puzzled.
“Where was her head when the attacker crushed her skull?”
Newman pointed, “About here.”
“And where is the message she allegedly wrote?”
“Six to eight inches…” Newman turned and looked at the body. He looked back up at Andy and grinned. “Lasko, get back over here with that camera.”
When the photographer returned Andy looked at the men from the morgue. “Gentlemen, turn her over…very carefully.”
“What?” It was one of the attendants turn to question.
“We think before she died she tried to leave a message.”
“What kind of message?”
“Turn her over. Her back was to it when her skull was crushed. The final blow ran down over the message, but with any luck…”
The body was reverently and respectfully turned over. The camera flashed several times.
Newman whistled. “This chick may have gotten herself killed, but she was brilliant.”
Andy grabbed the photographer. “Do not under any circumstances put any copies of this on Balouche’s desk. Put them on disk and bring them straight to me.”
“Something up Andy?”
“Not sure, but for the third time, Balouche has just been a little too eager to gloss over a few things I feel are important. He wants me to do the paperwork. I do the paperwork, this time from my notes, not his.”
Newman took one last look as the body was placed properly in the bag and zipped up. “Three words, the last two garbled the first is pretty clear. Think there’s a connection?”
“If this were graffiti I’d say no, but positive it was written in her own blood just before she died I’d say definitely.”
“I can have a definitive answer for you on that one in a few minutes once I get back to the lab.”
“Then get back to the lab, Newman, and once again all information comes directly to me.”
“Gotcha, Andy.” Newman darted away as Andy opened his notebook and scribbled down the letters he could make out.
“Balouche maybe be trying to make everyone look the other way,” he said to himself on his way back to his car. “But as far as I’m concerned, there are too many people dropping the name Hutton before they drop dead around here.”
“Jane Doe, we’ll do the usual.” Balouche lit up a Marlboro. “Take a few pictures, haul the body away and not waste anymore time.”
The junior partner stepped toward the body and crouched down. The smell was overwhelming. He should have been used to it by now, but every time the stench found a new way to turn his stomach.
“This looks pretty brutal, Balouche.”
“Probably just a hooker picking up a john hopped up on something. Got ugly, left an even uglier mess. No need to spend unnecessary tax dollars. We’ll write it up and unless something unusual pops up, we move on. Too much going on in this town to spin our wheels on a dead end.”
“I don’t see a purse or any sort of identification.”
“I doubt we’ll find anything. If we’re lucky her fingerprints will turn up a name. If not maybe someday someone will come looking for her.” He crouched down beside his partner and looked at the decaying corpse. “Not much of a face left, doubt anyone would recognize her.”
“Shame.” Andy stood. “Everyone deserves justice, especially for something this brutal.”
“Just fill out the paperwork and walk away. It’s a little more brutal than normal. Someone crushed her face in, otherwise it’s just more of the same.”
Andy sighed and stood “CSI finished up?”
Balouche nodded. “You might as well go back to the office and sharpen your pencil. I’ll take a few more notes and that’ll be it.”
A mousey man with thick glasses slipped back under the yellow tape. “You finally decide to make an appearance?” He directed toward Andy.
“Came as soon as I got the call.”
“Must have been doing something, Balouche made it here an hour ago.”
“Got here as soon as I could. Anything unusual, or is this as run of the mill as Balouche says.” Andy looked over at Balouche who had wondered away from the scene and was on his cell phone.
“This is anything but run of the mill, Andy.”
“Balouche says…”
“Screw Balouche. The victim died here, but there’s a trail of blood and chaos at least a mile long in this maze. My guess is the killer thought the woman was dead, she obviously dragged herself or crawled into this dead end. The killer came back, found her still alive and crushed her skull in with his boot.”
“What makes you say that?”
The man jerked his head, signaling Andy to follow him. They crouched down over the body again. “See here? The perp took the time to wipe his feet off with her sleeve. She was leaned up against the brick wall and then slumped over after he took his heel to her face.”
Andy looked up and around. “What’s this?” He pointed to the wall. “It looks like writing.”
“Probably just some graffiti. The blood and brain matter from her head has covered most of it.”
He bent closer and shook his head. “Newman take a closer look at this. There’s lettering written in blood.”
Newman cocked his head. “Barker, you get a good shot of this wall?” When the photographer nodded, he looked back at the body. “The index finger of her left hand looks like she dipped it in blood.”
“Was she trying to leave a message?” Andy looked at him.
Newman scrapped several places on the wall and dropped the shavings into marked plastic bags. “Don’t know if we’ll ever know for sure.”
“What are you jerk offs doing?” Balouche appeared.
“Looks like the victim tried to leave a message of some kind.” Newman continued taking samples from the wall.
“Don’t waste more time, Newman.” Balouche scolded. “The body’s been here a long while, we’re probably not the first to run across it. Some kids who watch ‘Ghost Hunters’ probably thought it was funny.”
“Peyton,” Andy tried to convince him. “Look at her finger, she definitely was trying to write something on this wall in her own blood.” Balouche rolled his eyes. “Take a look yourself.”
The senior partner bent over and glanced at the wall. “I don’t see anything that can’t be explained by normal blood patterns. As for her index finger, she probably touched herself. Stop wasting time, wrap it up.” Balouche stepped over the body and walked out of sight.
Newman looked at Andy. “The Big Kahuna has spoken, but get as many pictures as possible.”
Two men approached with a gurney and a body bag. “Can we get the body to the lab now?”
Reluctantly Andy nodded. He stared at the wall as the men busied themselves. Andy turned to look at them when he heard the plastic bag unzip. “Wait!”
The men stopped immediately. “Newman, look at the victim’s height compared to the writing on the wall.”
“What?” Newman was puzzled.
“Where was her head when the attacker crushed her skull?”
Newman pointed, “About here.”
“And where is the message she allegedly wrote?”
“Six to eight inches…” Newman turned and looked at the body. He looked back up at Andy and grinned. “Lasko, get back over here with that camera.”
When the photographer returned Andy looked at the men from the morgue. “Gentlemen, turn her over…very carefully.”
“What?” It was one of the attendants turn to question.
“We think before she died she tried to leave a message.”
“What kind of message?”
“Turn her over. Her back was to it when her skull was crushed. The final blow ran down over the message, but with any luck…”
The body was reverently and respectfully turned over. The camera flashed several times.
Newman whistled. “This chick may have gotten herself killed, but she was brilliant.”
Andy grabbed the photographer. “Do not under any circumstances put any copies of this on Balouche’s desk. Put them on disk and bring them straight to me.”
“Something up Andy?”
“Not sure, but for the third time, Balouche has just been a little too eager to gloss over a few things I feel are important. He wants me to do the paperwork. I do the paperwork, this time from my notes, not his.”
Newman took one last look as the body was placed properly in the bag and zipped up. “Three words, the last two garbled the first is pretty clear. Think there’s a connection?”
“If this were graffiti I’d say no, but positive it was written in her own blood just before she died I’d say definitely.”
“I can have a definitive answer for you on that one in a few minutes once I get back to the lab.”
“Then get back to the lab, Newman, and once again all information comes directly to me.”
“Gotcha, Andy.” Newman darted away as Andy opened his notebook and scribbled down the letters he could make out.
“Balouche maybe be trying to make everyone look the other way,” he said to himself on his way back to his car. “But as far as I’m concerned, there are too many people dropping the name Hutton before they drop dead around here.”
Vignette #165: Brilliant Crap
“Hey there gorgeous.” He beamed. “I was wondering when you’d come back to see me.”
“I’ve been a busy girl, and I knew you were tied up.” She giggled.
“I’m gonna ignore that pun.” Ian took Saxon’s hand as she leaned over and kissed him. “So, how was Disneyland?”
“We had a great time!” Saxon sighed and dumped herself into the chair beside his bed. “Ronnie had a set of ears made for everyone on Earth, but don’t tell him I told you. It’s a surprise.”
“Oh, joy. Just what I need Mickey Mouse ears with my name on them.”
“You’re in Hollywood, Ian. Disney is bound to get a portion of your soul somehow. It’s inevitable.”
“Well, I’m glad you finally got around to my name on your dance card. I was beginning to think you liked my son better than me.”
“Jealous?”
“Maybe just a little.” Ian picked up his cup and drained it. “Could I bother you to refill my water, please?”
Saxon looked around the room and then reached in her purse. “How about a Pepsi instead?”
“You smuggled me a Pepsi?” Ian’s eyes brightened as she popped open the top with a spritz and placed it within his reach.
“If you’ve got a pack a cigarettes in there, I’ll marry you.” He said lifting the can to his lips and taking a gulp of sheer heaven.
“I’ll remember that for next time.” She giggled as she popped another can from of her purse for herself.
“I think Ronnie has a little crush on you.” Ian confided.
“Aw that’s sweet.” She cooed. “The feeling is definitely mutual. He’s so much like his father, except I can swat him if he gets out of hand.”
“He wasn’t any trouble was he?”
“Oh no.” Saxon squeezed Ian’s free hand. “He was wonderful, just a fireball of energy. It wore me out trying to keep up with him.”
“I wish I could have gone with you.” Ian sighed.
“Ian, you and Ronnie will have lots of time to do things together. This was just something I thought I could do for him…and you…to keep him occupied and give Tippy and the boys a free hand today.”
“Have you heard how the clean up and repairs went?”
“I got a text from Jesse saying that everything went fine. Has no one been in to see you yet?”
“Not yet, but I figured sometime soon. The whole clan will show up eventually, hopefully with some edible food.”
“Who won lunch lotto?”
“Ronnie, eighteen bucks and he was right on the money, too. I’m still shocked he even knew what beef stroganoff was.”
Saxon laughed. “I’m surprised the cafeteria knew what beef stroganoff was.”
“Obviously they’ve heard of it. They just don’t know how to make it.” Ian turned up his Pepsi and drained it. “Got another one of these?”
“You’ve guzzled that whole can?”
“Sorry. Sugar and nicotine are rare treats. I’ve had nothing but juice and water for what three weeks now?”
“Here, have the rest of mine.” Saxon poured the dark liquid in his cup. “You’d better be careful Ian. The sugar buzz might send you into orbit.”
“Unless someone unhooks me, I won’t get very far. I’ll just be a sugar buzzed balloon.” He whined. “But, I am told if I’m a good boy they might spring me out of here in a few days.”
“So what another week?” Ian shot her a dirty look. “Well they said if you were a good boy. We both know that ain’t happenin’.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Ian slurped some more Pepsi. “So what’s kept you from my bedside vigil besides my son?”
“I’ve been busy.” Saxon giggled. “We finished casting ‘Hollow Points’ and of course Jeremy and I have been running around trying to tie up loose ends for “Quarters”.”
“So you’re in?”
“Absolutely. You’re not doing this without me. All we need is a director and one more major role. We’ve already set up a meeting with the lawyers to form the company. You know we can do that in less than an hour in somebody’s office?”
“It seems like it should be more complicated than that.” Ian drained the last of his cup. “I’ve got to talk with David Turner or someone from our legal department to make sure I’m not violating my HRT contract.”
“You can guarantee that couldn’t be solved in an afternoon in someone’s office.” She got up to rinse his cup and refill it with cold water from a sweating pitcher, putting both within his reach.
“I’m thinking that if Simon Kent and Baxter Reilly can do it on the sly, there shouldn’t be a problem with me doing it upfront and out in the open if it doesn’t create a conflict of interest. I’m certain there will be a lot more scrutiny of that sort of thing after the ‘Sebastian Manor’ debacle.”
“Speaking of which, have you decide what you are going to fill that hole with? I figure you’ve got what another week maybe two tops before dead air until September.”
“Oh, not to worry. I’ve got it covered.” Ian beamed for the second time since Saxon walked in his hospital room.
“Why Clem.” Saxon leaned in for the juicy details. “I know that look. What have you done in the corn field now?”
“Bessie, I’ve just done what comes natur’ly. I’m replacing ‘Sebastian Manor’ temporarily with ‘Sebastian Manor’”.
“Excuse me?” Saxon’s jaw dropped. “You are not seriously going to replace that tripe with reruns of the same tripe?”
“Not exactly. Wanna see?”
Saxon’s eyes lit up. “Grab that DVD player over there.” He pointed. “Don’t bring it too close. Ronnie let me borrow it and if I break it I have to by him a plasma screen and a new DVD player.”
“Smart kid.” Saxon set the player on the roll top. “What am I watching here?” She said as she expertly set everything up.
“Blake brought me a copy of the first few episodes. Have you ever heard of the website Better TV?”
“The one where they skewer everything in sight?”
“That’s the one. I signed the webmasters to a contract, gave them all the shot footage, every piece we had, turned it over to them and told them to have at it. They just had to wrap it all up by September 19.”
Saxon’s eyes popped. “Have you announced this or at least given the stations warning?”
“Nope.” Ian smiled. “Only six people are watching anyway, and I’m sure they’re all heavily medicated. It stays perfectly within all legal guidelines and at the same time sticks it to Baxter Reilly. He’s gonna have a fit!”
“What about, you know, FCC guidelines?”
“They are keeping it clean, and I have to be honest here.” Ian smirked. “This stuff is great. Logan and Will have taken a piece of absolute crap and turned it into something brilliantly hysterical.”
“It can’t possibly be a bigger bomb than the original.”
“My point exactly. Hit the start button.” Ian refilled his water cup and settled in to enjoy the disk again and gage Saxon’s reaction.
The screen stayed black, but ala ‘Star Wars’ white lettering began to scroll up the screen and a very professional man’s voice began. “And God created the heavens and the earth in six days. On the seventh he rested. On the eighth he looked around and said “What’s this crap?” And He called it…”
The opening credits for “Sebastian Manor” began to roll, causing Saxon and Ian to do the same. What followed was an irreverent bawdy double take of the plotlines. The men had chosen to highlight the stilted acting and camera angles, rearranging plots and dialogue, spoofing the original story and creating several new ones.
In several places, they chose to highlight the really horrendous original plot lulls by speeding up the tape, like someone hit the fast forward button. The 39 minutes of the first episode captured almost the first three weeks of the series. It was side splitting with a few dramatic moments as well. For the first time the story now made sense. It was now not only watch able but was addictive.
When the end credits rolled it was Ian’s turn to look like he had dined on a fat canary. “Well?”
Saxon was wiping her eyes with a silk handkerchief she snatched from her purse. Saxon grinned. “Baxter Reilly will be rolling over in his grave…”
“He’s not dead.”
“Are you kidding?” Saxon said. “The moment he sees the new tag and credits he’ll clutch his chest and keel over, and you know the man will be watching. Has anyone else seen this?”
“Just me and the five guys I have locked away in an editing room. In two weeks this hits the air…”
“And your not doing any kind of promotion?” She asked.
“We’ve deiced to just run the standard bites…I told you no one is watching this to begin with, so we’re just gonna blindside them and see what happens.”
“You aren’t afraid of affiliates thinking there is a problem?”
“We’re sort of warning them. My team is calling and sending letters letting them know that in two weeks to expect a shock and to just roll with it. Most are just relieved they don’t have nine weeks of dead air coming before Blood Kisses.”
“No promo at all?” Saxon was skeptical.
“Well not traditional promo…we’ve decided to promote it within the source. We aren’t warning the soap mags, who are filling their pages with wonderful rumors of no one knows what’s next…blah blah blah…actually causing great anticipation, we may even see rating spike the next couple of weeks of curious cats trying not be killed.”
“Nothing else?” Saxon asked.
“Not for the traditional sources, any time we get a call or a reporter drops by we just give them the lowdown on Blood Kisses completely side stepping any information on Sebastian Manor.” Ian told her.
“And if they ask point blank, you just tell them point blank…?”
“We respond as if we have no idea what they are talking about. As far as the new Manor, we are letting bloggers and You Tubers stir each other up, letting it leak that they are in charge…we’ll just see what happens.”
“I’ve been a busy girl, and I knew you were tied up.” She giggled.
“I’m gonna ignore that pun.” Ian took Saxon’s hand as she leaned over and kissed him. “So, how was Disneyland?”
“We had a great time!” Saxon sighed and dumped herself into the chair beside his bed. “Ronnie had a set of ears made for everyone on Earth, but don’t tell him I told you. It’s a surprise.”
“Oh, joy. Just what I need Mickey Mouse ears with my name on them.”
“You’re in Hollywood, Ian. Disney is bound to get a portion of your soul somehow. It’s inevitable.”
“Well, I’m glad you finally got around to my name on your dance card. I was beginning to think you liked my son better than me.”
“Jealous?”
“Maybe just a little.” Ian picked up his cup and drained it. “Could I bother you to refill my water, please?”
Saxon looked around the room and then reached in her purse. “How about a Pepsi instead?”
“You smuggled me a Pepsi?” Ian’s eyes brightened as she popped open the top with a spritz and placed it within his reach.
“If you’ve got a pack a cigarettes in there, I’ll marry you.” He said lifting the can to his lips and taking a gulp of sheer heaven.
“I’ll remember that for next time.” She giggled as she popped another can from of her purse for herself.
“I think Ronnie has a little crush on you.” Ian confided.
“Aw that’s sweet.” She cooed. “The feeling is definitely mutual. He’s so much like his father, except I can swat him if he gets out of hand.”
“He wasn’t any trouble was he?”
“Oh no.” Saxon squeezed Ian’s free hand. “He was wonderful, just a fireball of energy. It wore me out trying to keep up with him.”
“I wish I could have gone with you.” Ian sighed.
“Ian, you and Ronnie will have lots of time to do things together. This was just something I thought I could do for him…and you…to keep him occupied and give Tippy and the boys a free hand today.”
“Have you heard how the clean up and repairs went?”
“I got a text from Jesse saying that everything went fine. Has no one been in to see you yet?”
“Not yet, but I figured sometime soon. The whole clan will show up eventually, hopefully with some edible food.”
“Who won lunch lotto?”
“Ronnie, eighteen bucks and he was right on the money, too. I’m still shocked he even knew what beef stroganoff was.”
Saxon laughed. “I’m surprised the cafeteria knew what beef stroganoff was.”
“Obviously they’ve heard of it. They just don’t know how to make it.” Ian turned up his Pepsi and drained it. “Got another one of these?”
“You’ve guzzled that whole can?”
“Sorry. Sugar and nicotine are rare treats. I’ve had nothing but juice and water for what three weeks now?”
“Here, have the rest of mine.” Saxon poured the dark liquid in his cup. “You’d better be careful Ian. The sugar buzz might send you into orbit.”
“Unless someone unhooks me, I won’t get very far. I’ll just be a sugar buzzed balloon.” He whined. “But, I am told if I’m a good boy they might spring me out of here in a few days.”
“So what another week?” Ian shot her a dirty look. “Well they said if you were a good boy. We both know that ain’t happenin’.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Ian slurped some more Pepsi. “So what’s kept you from my bedside vigil besides my son?”
“I’ve been busy.” Saxon giggled. “We finished casting ‘Hollow Points’ and of course Jeremy and I have been running around trying to tie up loose ends for “Quarters”.”
“So you’re in?”
“Absolutely. You’re not doing this without me. All we need is a director and one more major role. We’ve already set up a meeting with the lawyers to form the company. You know we can do that in less than an hour in somebody’s office?”
“It seems like it should be more complicated than that.” Ian drained the last of his cup. “I’ve got to talk with David Turner or someone from our legal department to make sure I’m not violating my HRT contract.”
“You can guarantee that couldn’t be solved in an afternoon in someone’s office.” She got up to rinse his cup and refill it with cold water from a sweating pitcher, putting both within his reach.
“I’m thinking that if Simon Kent and Baxter Reilly can do it on the sly, there shouldn’t be a problem with me doing it upfront and out in the open if it doesn’t create a conflict of interest. I’m certain there will be a lot more scrutiny of that sort of thing after the ‘Sebastian Manor’ debacle.”
“Speaking of which, have you decide what you are going to fill that hole with? I figure you’ve got what another week maybe two tops before dead air until September.”
“Oh, not to worry. I’ve got it covered.” Ian beamed for the second time since Saxon walked in his hospital room.
“Why Clem.” Saxon leaned in for the juicy details. “I know that look. What have you done in the corn field now?”
“Bessie, I’ve just done what comes natur’ly. I’m replacing ‘Sebastian Manor’ temporarily with ‘Sebastian Manor’”.
“Excuse me?” Saxon’s jaw dropped. “You are not seriously going to replace that tripe with reruns of the same tripe?”
“Not exactly. Wanna see?”
Saxon’s eyes lit up. “Grab that DVD player over there.” He pointed. “Don’t bring it too close. Ronnie let me borrow it and if I break it I have to by him a plasma screen and a new DVD player.”
“Smart kid.” Saxon set the player on the roll top. “What am I watching here?” She said as she expertly set everything up.
“Blake brought me a copy of the first few episodes. Have you ever heard of the website Better TV?”
“The one where they skewer everything in sight?”
“That’s the one. I signed the webmasters to a contract, gave them all the shot footage, every piece we had, turned it over to them and told them to have at it. They just had to wrap it all up by September 19.”
Saxon’s eyes popped. “Have you announced this or at least given the stations warning?”
“Nope.” Ian smiled. “Only six people are watching anyway, and I’m sure they’re all heavily medicated. It stays perfectly within all legal guidelines and at the same time sticks it to Baxter Reilly. He’s gonna have a fit!”
“What about, you know, FCC guidelines?”
“They are keeping it clean, and I have to be honest here.” Ian smirked. “This stuff is great. Logan and Will have taken a piece of absolute crap and turned it into something brilliantly hysterical.”
“It can’t possibly be a bigger bomb than the original.”
“My point exactly. Hit the start button.” Ian refilled his water cup and settled in to enjoy the disk again and gage Saxon’s reaction.
The screen stayed black, but ala ‘Star Wars’ white lettering began to scroll up the screen and a very professional man’s voice began. “And God created the heavens and the earth in six days. On the seventh he rested. On the eighth he looked around and said “What’s this crap?” And He called it…”
The opening credits for “Sebastian Manor” began to roll, causing Saxon and Ian to do the same. What followed was an irreverent bawdy double take of the plotlines. The men had chosen to highlight the stilted acting and camera angles, rearranging plots and dialogue, spoofing the original story and creating several new ones.
In several places, they chose to highlight the really horrendous original plot lulls by speeding up the tape, like someone hit the fast forward button. The 39 minutes of the first episode captured almost the first three weeks of the series. It was side splitting with a few dramatic moments as well. For the first time the story now made sense. It was now not only watch able but was addictive.
When the end credits rolled it was Ian’s turn to look like he had dined on a fat canary. “Well?”
Saxon was wiping her eyes with a silk handkerchief she snatched from her purse. Saxon grinned. “Baxter Reilly will be rolling over in his grave…”
“He’s not dead.”
“Are you kidding?” Saxon said. “The moment he sees the new tag and credits he’ll clutch his chest and keel over, and you know the man will be watching. Has anyone else seen this?”
“Just me and the five guys I have locked away in an editing room. In two weeks this hits the air…”
“And your not doing any kind of promotion?” She asked.
“We’ve deiced to just run the standard bites…I told you no one is watching this to begin with, so we’re just gonna blindside them and see what happens.”
“You aren’t afraid of affiliates thinking there is a problem?”
“We’re sort of warning them. My team is calling and sending letters letting them know that in two weeks to expect a shock and to just roll with it. Most are just relieved they don’t have nine weeks of dead air coming before Blood Kisses.”
“No promo at all?” Saxon was skeptical.
“Well not traditional promo…we’ve decided to promote it within the source. We aren’t warning the soap mags, who are filling their pages with wonderful rumors of no one knows what’s next…blah blah blah…actually causing great anticipation, we may even see rating spike the next couple of weeks of curious cats trying not be killed.”
“Nothing else?” Saxon asked.
“Not for the traditional sources, any time we get a call or a reporter drops by we just give them the lowdown on Blood Kisses completely side stepping any information on Sebastian Manor.” Ian told her.
“And if they ask point blank, you just tell them point blank…?”
“We respond as if we have no idea what they are talking about. As far as the new Manor, we are letting bloggers and You Tubers stir each other up, letting it leak that they are in charge…we’ll just see what happens.”
Vignette #164: Only Beginning
“You don’t have to do this.” Turner put his hand on the suitcase. “We don’t have to do this. It’s over. Let’s just let it be over.”
James Redfield looked at him and smiled. “Yes, Dave. It’s over, and this is how we end it.”
“You’re sure?”
“Look at me, Dave.” He dropped his eyes to the suitcase. “This is what I want, how I want it to end.”
“You’re sure?” Turner sat in the chair, defeated.
Redfield nodded his head. “This way no one will ever forget and no one will ever have to know the truth. It’s over and no one else has to suffer.”
“I can’t do this alone.” He half begged, half tried to convince himself.
“You’re not alone, Dave.” Redfield turned his face back to the darkness. “It will all just be different. We’ll all have to get used to it, but it’s for the best. You’re in control now.”
“But I don’t want to be in control.” Turner reached out and grabbed Redfield’s arm. “I don’t want it. I don’t want all the deceptions and the lies…Jamey, please.”
Jamey put his hand on Dave’s and gently pulled it from his arm. “There are no more deceptions, Dave. All the lies are gone. We don’t need to tell them anymore. We don’t need to look over our shoulders. All that died with Lucille.”
Dave was trying hard not to let his heart break. “She took my son.”
“We’ll find him. That’s my job now, and this is the best way to do it. I’ll find him and bring him back to you.”
Turner nodded his head. “Why did this all get started and how did it all become such an ungodly mess?”
“We did what we had to do to survive. It’s the name of the game in this town. We didn’t write the rules.”
“We just broke them.”
“We didn’t break any rules, Dave.” Redfield hissed at him. “We beat them at their own game. They said we couldn’t do it. They said we didn’t have the talent and they were wrong.”
He had to agree. “Then they said we’d never do it twice, and ten years later we’re still here and they aren’t.”
“And we own this town.” David could see Jamey smiling in triumph even in the dark. “People barely remember Four Stars Studios.”
“In ten years, with they remember HRT?” Dave asked.
“Of course they will.” Jamey said confidently. “It’s all up to you. You call the shots. We created a company, David Turner. Now, go. Create a legend.”
“We’re do we go from here?”
“Where do you go from here?” James Redfield turned to stare at him with a smile.
“I guess this is it then.”
“Yes. It’s been fun David, but this is what I want. The world will remember me the way I was.”
“But they can fix your face, Jamey. You will work again. We own the most powerful film company in the world.”
He shook his head. “No. Lucille was right.”
“Lucille was an idiot, an idiot and a coward.” David spit.
The fire in Redfield’s eyes ignited the room. “She gave us the out. She knew it was the only way to end it without losing it all. She sacrificed everything, everything for this. She wasn’t a coward, she was a genius and the only one smarter than her is you. Now stop acting like a frightened ten year old and get out there and make it all worth while.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” The remorse in David’s voice was finally real. “What am I going to do with out you or Lucille to keep kicking me in the rear?”
“Oh, things will be different, but whenever you need it, I’ll find a way to deliver a good swift kick now and then.”
Turner nodded his head and stood. “Well, I guess it’s my turn to go and clean up the mess.”
He heard Jamey laugh. It made him smile. He hadn’t heard a genuine laugh from the man in a long, long time. “Just where are you going to start?”
“Well, Lucille bought all these new companies. She claimed they were our future. I guess I’m going to go in the office and figure out what to do with a bunch of television stations. You’re starting a new adventure. I guess I’ll do the same.”
He walked to the door of the hospital room. “Goodbye, James Redfield, it was an honor knowing you.”
“Until we meet again, my friend, until we meet again.”
It would be the last time he ever saw James Redfield, but it wouldn’t be the last time he regretted not disappearing with him.
James Redfield looked at him and smiled. “Yes, Dave. It’s over, and this is how we end it.”
“You’re sure?”
“Look at me, Dave.” He dropped his eyes to the suitcase. “This is what I want, how I want it to end.”
“You’re sure?” Turner sat in the chair, defeated.
Redfield nodded his head. “This way no one will ever forget and no one will ever have to know the truth. It’s over and no one else has to suffer.”
“I can’t do this alone.” He half begged, half tried to convince himself.
“You’re not alone, Dave.” Redfield turned his face back to the darkness. “It will all just be different. We’ll all have to get used to it, but it’s for the best. You’re in control now.”
“But I don’t want to be in control.” Turner reached out and grabbed Redfield’s arm. “I don’t want it. I don’t want all the deceptions and the lies…Jamey, please.”
Jamey put his hand on Dave’s and gently pulled it from his arm. “There are no more deceptions, Dave. All the lies are gone. We don’t need to tell them anymore. We don’t need to look over our shoulders. All that died with Lucille.”
Dave was trying hard not to let his heart break. “She took my son.”
“We’ll find him. That’s my job now, and this is the best way to do it. I’ll find him and bring him back to you.”
Turner nodded his head. “Why did this all get started and how did it all become such an ungodly mess?”
“We did what we had to do to survive. It’s the name of the game in this town. We didn’t write the rules.”
“We just broke them.”
“We didn’t break any rules, Dave.” Redfield hissed at him. “We beat them at their own game. They said we couldn’t do it. They said we didn’t have the talent and they were wrong.”
He had to agree. “Then they said we’d never do it twice, and ten years later we’re still here and they aren’t.”
“And we own this town.” David could see Jamey smiling in triumph even in the dark. “People barely remember Four Stars Studios.”
“In ten years, with they remember HRT?” Dave asked.
“Of course they will.” Jamey said confidently. “It’s all up to you. You call the shots. We created a company, David Turner. Now, go. Create a legend.”
“We’re do we go from here?”
“Where do you go from here?” James Redfield turned to stare at him with a smile.
“I guess this is it then.”
“Yes. It’s been fun David, but this is what I want. The world will remember me the way I was.”
“But they can fix your face, Jamey. You will work again. We own the most powerful film company in the world.”
He shook his head. “No. Lucille was right.”
“Lucille was an idiot, an idiot and a coward.” David spit.
The fire in Redfield’s eyes ignited the room. “She gave us the out. She knew it was the only way to end it without losing it all. She sacrificed everything, everything for this. She wasn’t a coward, she was a genius and the only one smarter than her is you. Now stop acting like a frightened ten year old and get out there and make it all worth while.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” The remorse in David’s voice was finally real. “What am I going to do with out you or Lucille to keep kicking me in the rear?”
“Oh, things will be different, but whenever you need it, I’ll find a way to deliver a good swift kick now and then.”
Turner nodded his head and stood. “Well, I guess it’s my turn to go and clean up the mess.”
He heard Jamey laugh. It made him smile. He hadn’t heard a genuine laugh from the man in a long, long time. “Just where are you going to start?”
“Well, Lucille bought all these new companies. She claimed they were our future. I guess I’m going to go in the office and figure out what to do with a bunch of television stations. You’re starting a new adventure. I guess I’ll do the same.”
He walked to the door of the hospital room. “Goodbye, James Redfield, it was an honor knowing you.”
“Until we meet again, my friend, until we meet again.”
It would be the last time he ever saw James Redfield, but it wouldn’t be the last time he regretted not disappearing with him.
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