by Jan Thompson
“No, no. I’m full—except for maybe a piece of pie.”
“Good pie,” Angelina said. “So they make all sorts of pies at Piper’s Place?”
“Yes. And lots of cupcakes too.” Martin thought that maybe for Christmas, he could give them a gift card to Piper’s Place.
After Pete sent Angelina inside to rest her ankle, he and Martin made short work of cleaning up the place. They let the grill cool down, and Pete said he’d clean it up in the morning.
“Is everything okay?” Martin asked as they took out a bag of trash to the large dumpster down the lane.
“You mean me or Angelina or us both?” Pete asked.
“Both, I guess.”
“I’m doing fine.” Pete tossed the bag of trash into the bin. “Angelina is probably a little homesick.”
Did that mean Martin was going to lose Pete? He had only started work in late July. Two months and no vacation collected.
“Are you going home at Christmas?” MacMuscles gave everyone a week off then for family time.
“I think she wants to go home now.”
“Oh.”
“She has this idea that she shouldn’t have sold the houseboat. She thinks Dinah is going to show up one day.”
Corinne.
Angelina still called her Dinah.
Martin wished Pete hadn’t brought up Corinne. Now he felt lovesick, like his heart should be in Key Largo, waiting for Corinne to show up. “I do miss the place.”
“And people.” Pete picked up his cat and sat down on his camp chair.
Martin sat down next to him. “It’s been about fourteen months. Didn’t we watch the news back in July about them catching that Oscar dude?”
“Maybe he was only a little fish and they needed him as bait to catch a bigger shark. Then it would take a while longer for the whole thing to be done.”
How long? “Could be. We never know.”
“If Angelina and I move back to Key Largo, will you think less of us?” Pete swatted a fly from his face. “I mean, I barely worked at MacMuscles for two months.”
“Sometimes you have to leave a place to find out you want to stay after all.”
“That’s deep.” Pete nodded. “We’re praying about it, if you must know. If it’s okay with you, we’d like to be home in Key Largo for good at Christmas.”
“That’s a good break. We get a week, as you know.”
“I appreciate your creating a new position for me.”
“Dad really likes you. You’re a valuable part of our company.” Martin meant it.
“Thank you, sir.”
Christmas would be in three months, and then more goodbyes. Martin wasn’t sure if he could handle it. Even though Pete and Angelina were not blood family to Corinne, they were the closest people Martin knew who actually spent time with Corinne.
“May I be frank with you?” Martin asked.
“Sure.”
“If your heart is not in it, there’s no point waiting another three months before you leave.”
“We need the income to hold us over. Our retirement pensions aren’t enough to live without working.”
“Gotcha. Then work as long as you want. We just require two weeks of notice,” Martin said. “All I ask is that when I do visit you in Key Largo, we could have lunch sometime.”
“Of course. You’re family now.”
Family?
Why then did Martin feel so alone?
Chapter Thirty-Four
The 1967 L88 Corvette was lime green, shiny, and sleek. The engine needed a bit of work. When the MacMuscles finished fixing it and repainting it red, Martin could see himself behind the four-hundred-plus horsepower, cruising down the highway from Savannah to Key West.
The resale price tag was out of this world, but Dad didn’t flinch. He eased into the driver’s seat, apparently visualizing himself taking it out for a test drive.
The owner had passed away, left it to his wife, who then also passed away. Eventually, the car ended up with their granddaughter, who didn’t want a two-seater convertible. She’d rather have an SUV and a nice big house instead.
“What do you think?” Dad asked.
There was Dad, sitting in a Corvette in the large garage, surrounded by at least eight other classic and muscle cars he had purchased at one point or another, including the Shelby that Martin had sold to him.
How many cars does Dad have time to drive?
“The price, Dad.” It was all Martin could think to say.
“Life is short. I could sell a few of those cars over there.” Dad waved.
“Because you want a lime green Corvette.” Martin knew that red was Dad’s favorite color, but it was only paint.
“I would be lying if I say I don’t want it, but you know it’s because I can repaint it red. How about we split this fifty-fifty?”
Martin hadn’t told Dad about the educational fund he had set up for Corinne’s children. Dad would question the wisdom of giving away money to someone else’s kids when their mother had no intention of marrying Martin.
Well, Martin couldn’t be sure it had been a resounding no. Corinne hadn’t given him a definitive answer before she vanished from the beach right before his very eyes. How did she do it? How did she blend into the crowd and disappear from his life?
The sun must’ve been in Martin’s eyes that Saturday afternoon because for the life of him, he could not spot her anywhere. Perhaps she had been trained to blend into the crowd.
One year and three months later, Corinne’s face was beginning to fade from Martin’s memory. How many times had he wished he had taken a photograph of her when they were still in Key Largo? When he took out his phone to search for the verses from Psalm that she’d shared with him, he could have taken a picture of her.
Too late now.
When he asked Pete and Angelina for a photograph, they were just as surprised as Martin to find that most, if not all, of the photographs of Corinne at church events were either blurry, partially obscured, or too far away.
In essence, Corinne had purposely stayed away from center stage, from the spotlight.
Martin felt sorry for her, having to hide like that. If he had known that she was in WITSEC, he might have left her alone, considering she wouldn’t be in the program had her life not been in danger.
However, pity wasn’t why he had decided to save money for her children. It was…
Love?
To date, Martin had put in the equivalent of two muscle cars and one classic car into the fund. He had put away a few hundred dollars more each month.
“You want it?” Dad asked. “How about we sit in it for a while?”
“Knowing the engine needs work and we can’t take it outside for a spin?”
Dad motioned for him to get in. “We’ll take a selfie.”
“That, I can afford.” Martin laughed.
As he opened the passenger side door, he heard someone call his name. It echoed in the big space.
Martin…Martin…Martin…
Martin turned to see who needed him, and there was Pete, walking through the garage entrance and carrying a child.
Martin blinked.
The girl looked familiar.
Martin held on to the car door for support.
A stroller emerged in the sunshine, and behind the stroller…
Was Corinne Anderson.
In real life.
Her hair was longer now, and tied up in a pony tail.
Martin’s eyes stung.
His knees wobbled. He leaned against the Corvette for support.
Lord Jesus, give me strength.
“Who’s that?” Dad got out of the car.
When Martin and Corinne broke up six years before, it was only shortly after Dad had returned to his life. Dad probably didn’t remember how Corinne looked.
“Someone we know?” Dad asked.
“The love of my life whom I couldn’t have,” Martin blurted.
“Corinne.” Dad closed th
e car door. “Isn’t that good news? If she’s here, out in the open, it means she’s out of WITSEC.”
Yeah, Dad and Damaris knew about Corinne. Tina had told them as much as she knew. That way, she said they could be supportive of Martin.
He didn’t need support. He needed…
Corinne.
And there she was, within reach. Martin wanted to sprint toward her, but his feet felt like they were cemented to the garage floor.
He swallowed.
Blinked again.
Lord, help me not to make a fool of myself.
“Hello! Who do we have here?” Dad said loudly as he approached Pete.
It was just as well that Dad made the first greeting because thirty-three-year-old Martin felt like an awkward teenager on his first date.
Corinne smiled to him. It was a warm and worry-free smile, as if the storms of her life were over.
Martin recalled the verse that Corinne had left with him on the beach that long-ago Saturday.
Be merciful unto me, O God, be merciful unto me: for my soul trusteth in thee: yea, in the shadow of thy wings will I make my refuge, until these calamities be overpast.
He had committed Psalm 57:1 to memory for her sake.
The fact that she was standing there testified that her calamities were over. God had indeed protected all of them for Himself.
Slowly, Martin made his way to the small group.
Not my will be done, Lord. Only Yours. That’s all I ask. Help me to let her go if that’s best for us.
“Corinne.” Martin could barely speak.
Somewhere in the background, he heard Pete introducing Dad to Dahlia. “Tell Mr. MacFarland your name.”
“Dahlia.” She said softly, almost in a whisper, and quickly buried her face in Pete’s shoulder.
“Hello, Dahlia,” Dad said. “How old are you?”
Dahlia lifted four fingers.
“Four years old! My granddaughter is four too.”
And on and on.
Martin’s eyes were on Corinne.
“Hi, Martin,” she said. “How are you?”
Dying inside. “Well. And you?”
“We survived.”
“Praise the Lord. Been praying for you.”
“I know.” She smiled.
“You do?”
“Angelina told me.”
“You’ve been to see her?” Martin wondered when she came into town.
“Stayed in their RV last night,” Corinne said.
“Pete didn’t say a thing.”
“It was all last-minute. Agent Tanaka dropped me off in Key Largo, and I went to see Pastor Butler right away. We stayed at his house for a few days. He told me that Pete and Angelina got married, moved up here.”
“So you called Angelina.”
“She still kept her old number.” Her hands were on the stroller handlebar.
“I drove the kids up last night, and we slept all morning.”
“I’m sure Pete and Angelina were happy.”
“I came to see you, Martin.”
Martin felt dizzy. “Say that again?”
And she did.
Martin wanted to give her a hug, but the stroller stood between them. Corinne walked around the stroller, and lifted the edge of a baby blanket. A cap covered the baby’s head. The baby was still sleeping.
“Very cute. Boy or girl?” Martin asked.
“Boy. Liam. I named him after my father, whom they tell me is in heaven now,” Corinne said quietly.
Martin wondered what it felt like for Corinne not to know her own parents. Even though Mom had died while Martin was in high school, at least he had some memories of her. Dad had left them years before, but returned when Martin and his sister were adults.
Corinne never knew her biological parents.
“Liam is eight months old now,” Corinne added.
“Already?” Wow. Martin reached for her hand. “You look great.”
“For a single mother with two kids?”
“I mean… I don’t know what I meant.”
“Cupcakes!” Dahlia suddenly said. “Mommy, please?”
Corinne glanced at Martin and then at her daughter.
Martin nearly laughed when he found both Pete and Dad looking like they were pleading for Corinne to say yes to cupcakes.
“Just one, okay?” Corinne lifted a finger.
Martin noticed that the bracelet was gone. In its place was a watch. He didn’t know what that meant, and he didn’t ask.
“Why don’t we grandpas take the kids for a few minutes while you two catch up?” Dad said.
Thank you, Dad.
Corinne looked reluctant to let go of the stroller.
“We’re just going around the corner,” Pete said. “I’ll text you as soon as Liam wakes up.”
“Right away?”
“Instantly.”
“Okay.”
Pete put Dahlia down. “Can you hold Grandpa MacMuscles’s hand?”
Dahlia shook her head.
“I’ll push the stroller,” Dad said. “You hold her hand.”
And off they went.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Martin and Corinne were alone in the cavernous garage.
“What is this place?” Corinne looked around. “Look at all those cars.”
She was good at breaking the ice.
“These are my dad’s cars,” Martin said. “Want a mini tour?”
Corinne pointed. “That’s your Shelby.”
“It belongs to Dad now.”
Corinne looked squarely at Martin. “You shouldn’t have.”
Martin sighed. “Angelina told you.”
“I would’ve found out eventually. They’re not your kids. Save money for your own kids.”
“They’re your kids. They matter to you.”
“I don’t need your help, Martin.” She sniffled. “Because of me, you were in danger on the island.”
Martin reached for her shoulder. She didn’t brush his hand away.
“We’re survivors, remember?” He reminded her. “Not victims.”
“You remembered our conversation on the beach.” She stepped away, walking toward the sunlight.
“Liam is fine,” Martin said. “Pete said he’d text you.”
She stopped. “Sorry I had to leave Key Largo abruptly. I couldn’t tell anyone anything, not even you.”
“I still don’t know how you did it. You disappeared.”
“The sun was in your eyes.”
“More than that.”
Corinne shrugged. “I followed a family leaving the beach. Long lost aunt or something. They didn’t care. We were going up the same stairs anyway.”
“So that’s how you got away. I couldn’t find you.” Martin took the opportunity to ask more questions. “Where did you go? Where have you been for fifteen months?”
“They put us in a safe house. I was sworn to secrecy regarding the location. No phone calls. No internet.”
It was enough for Martin. “What did you do the entire time?”
“It was hard at first but I helped in their preschool.”
“There were other families there?”
“I can’t say more. I don’t want to put other people in danger. One thing I can tell you is that I was surprised at how much I enjoyed teaching those little kids.”
“I sense a new career path?”
Corinne nodded. “They gave me some reward money so I’m going to graduate school and get a teaching degree.”
Martin didn’t ask who they were. “Where?”
“Miami.”
Miami. So far away.
“I have to get my GRE first, and then I’ll apply for admission,” Corinne continued. “Maybe for the fall semester.”
“August?”
“Yeah. That will give me time to move to Miami and get settled in.”
Martin didn’t want to ask who was going to take care of her kids while she was in school. Corinne was independent enough to fi
gure that out. She had to do what was needed to work and support her children.
“If you must know, Angelina has offered to watch the kids for me when I’m in class,” Corinne said. “But it won’t be until next year.”
“I guess you heard that they’re homesick for Key Largo.”
“Thank you for finding them work.”
“Only Pete. Angelina works elsewhere.”
“I know, but Angelina said you put in a good word for her at Delilah’s Landing.”
“Jacobs Landing with no apostrophe.”
Corinne giggled.
“Grad school, huh?” Martin tried to wrap his mind around it.
A long time ago, Corinne was an office manager. Then she became an FBI informant. And now she was going to be a school teacher.
So much had changed.
“What about you? What are you doing these days?” Corinne asked.
“Dad and I still run this place. We’re still fixing old cars. I’m still in the office doing all the paperwork.” Martin realized that little had changed in his career in the last several years. “I work at home some days so that I can look out the window and see the beach and ocean and think of you.”
There. He said it.
“You mean they pay you to daydream?” Corinne laughed.
“I’m not daydreaming anymore. You’re here. You’re really here.” Martin held her hand. Just one hand, in case he came on too strongly and she pulled away.
“And you were there for me,” Corinne said. “Remember when you first showed up in Key Largo?”
Martin nodded.
“Looking back, I’m glad you went there to look for me.”
“I had to know.” Martin continued to hold her hand. “I often wonder if I could’ve gotten an answer from you that day on the beach.”
Corinne’s eyes brightened. That told Martin that she knew what he was referring to.
“It might have seemed abrupt and sudden, but I meant it,” Martin said. “Under different circumstances—if you didn’t have to disappear—would you have answered me?”
“I would have said yes.”
Martin sensed no hesitation at all. It warmed his heart.
“Would you have said yes now?” Martin was on his knees.
Corinne gasped.
“This is not a knee-jerk reaction. Picture us on a beach.” Martin’s voice was soft and low. “Corinne Anderson, you’re the one woman I’ve ever truly loved. Will you marry me?”