by W. Ferraro
THREE
of
SPADES
W. FERRARO
AuthorHouse™
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This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
© 2013 by W. Ferraro. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
Published by AuthorHouse 01/29/2013
ISBN: 978-1-4817-1117-3 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4817-1116-6 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-4817-1115-9 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2013901437
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Contents
~ONE~
~TWO~
~THREE~
~FOUR~
~FIVE~
~SIX~
~SEVEN~
~EIGHT~
~NINE~
~TEN~
~ELEVEN~
~TWELVE~
~THIRTEEN~
~FOURTEEN~
~FIFTEEN~
~SIXTEEN~
~SEVENTEEN~
~EPILOGUE~
~EXCERPT~
~THREE OF DIAMONDS~
For my friends . . .
J~ for memories and heart
H~ for longevity and honesty
T~ for laughter and emotions
D~ for dreams and promises
N~ for fate and kindness
K~ for family and support
L~ for comfort and simplicity
A~ for love and elephants
and finally
RA~ for life and you
To my wonderful edit and proof team . . .
J~ for sharing this journey with me and accepting nothing else than “flawless”
D~ for believing in me and becoming a wonderful addition to the list above
US~ for increasing your usual timetable and for blushing along the way
“I may not be right, but I’m never wrong.” JAD
~ONE~
“Natalie, how many times do I need to tell you? You don’t need to sit here with me, especially after working all day.” Spoke Gloria Parker, as she reclined in the treatment chair in one of the Hamden General Cancer Center rooms while her daughter sat in one of the two visitor chairs in the suite.
“I know Mom, but I know you aren’t feeling well and I wanted to speak with Dr. Bowden. I want to make sure he doesn’t want to change your medication.”
Gloria looked at her daughter’s warm brown eyes that looked so much like her own. As Natalie sat there in the chair, Gloria noticed that she had a run in her dark tights that looked about as fashionable as her corduroy dress. Gloria knew that Natalie didn’t care about fashion or looks, she was always much more concerned with academics, books in particular. But Gloria worried about her only daughter. She worried that Natalie had focused more on taking care of her mother than focusing on herself and her life.
“Besides, I don’t have anything to do but laundry anyway,” Natalie said, as she straightened her constantly askew glasses.
Just then, Tina, the nurse came in to check on Gloria.
“How’s it going Ms. Parker? How’s the nausea?” Tina asked, as she notated Gloria’s chart with her current vital signs.
“It’s staying down, but for how long, I just don’t know,” Gloria answered, going for humorous but knowing, unfortunately, that her answer was completely truthful.
Natalie watched as her mother answered Tina’s questions. She noticed that Gloria’s complexion was waxy and her frail figure was so much slighter than just two weeks ago. She hated this; watching her mother fight and slowly wither away right before her eyes, with Natalie powerless to do anything but watch.
Tina turned and looked at Natalie then. Natalie was always with her mother during her treatments. She had even taken a sabbatical from her job as a kindergarten teacher at Hamden Elementary a year ago to take care of Gloria full time. Tina observed throughout their visits that their mother daughter bond was something of a legend. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure Gloria didn’t want this kind of life for her daughter. Tina loved getting to know her patients on every level. She knew that Gloria had two grown sons, Reginald and Samuel. They were both married and between the two, they had supplied Gloria with her five grandchildren. Gloria smiled when she spoke of them, but she glowed when she spoke of Natalie. Especially when she bragged about all of Natalie’s accomplishments, including teaching and volunteering as she did. Whenever Tina would poke purposely into Natalie’s social life, Gloria would still smile but the glow would dim as she explained that Natalie just hadn’t met the right person yet.
“So, Natalie, how is this year’s group of eager kindergarteners?” Tina asked, as she put Gloria’s chart back on the hook and placed her pen back on the string around her neck.
Natalie smiled as she thought of her new class. She got as giddy as the kids did when it came time for back to school shopping. When all the kids would shop for new clothes, shoes and backpacks, Natalie would raid the local office supply store. She loved the smell of freshly sharpened pencils and decorating her classrooms’ bulletin boards.
“They are all so enthusiastic about learning, Tina. In fact, there is one little girl that just bounces in everyday and just lights up the room. She makes sure all of her fellow classmates are happy and that they all get along but she can be quite mischievous. It’s almost like she is doing my job for me every now and then,” Natalie explained.
Tina snickered and couldn’t help but ask, “By any chance, is she a little girl with bright red curly hair?”
Confused as to how Tina would know that, Natalie just nodded her head and Tina laughed loudly. She shook her head as she went into the corridor and called to one of the other nurses.
“Hey Mae, you want to come here for a moment?” Tina walked back in followed by the other nurse. Natalie had seen this nurse here at the Cancer Center a few times since this round of treatment started. She guessed her to be new to her job because she was not here last year when Gloria went through treatment.
Natalie watched as the curvaceous nurse, with her long brown curly hair in a high ponytail, entered the room. She had a smile on her face that Natalie instantaneously knew was genuine. Tina introduced Gloria and Natalie to Mae and recanted the story, which Natalie had just revealed about her favorite new student.
Mae walked over to Natalie, took her hand and squeezed it, her face twinkling with pride.
“Miss Parker, it is a pleasure to meet you finally. I apologize for not doing so sooner. My daughter Megan just loves her new class and teacher.”
So, this was Megan Finn’s mother. Natalie could not see any resemblance other than the kindness in their gaze. As Natalie shook the nurse’s outstretche
d hand she could not help but feel at ease.
“Mrs. Finn, I’m so glad I’ve finally gotten to meet you. Megan is just such a joy to have in class. I have to say, she has become my favorite even though teachers aren’t supposed to have favorites,” Natalie said with sincere honesty, as she watched Mae Finn’s face light up with parental pride.
They spoke for a couple of more minutes about Megan and Natalie’s overall characteristics of her new students. Mae consulted with Tina about some of Gloria’s vitals and she listened to Gloria’s lungs with her own stethoscope. After saying goodbye to both Gloria and Natalie, Mae left. Tina was getting Gloria ready for her end of treatment physician meeting, when the doctor entered.
As Natalie watched, Dr. Bowden listened to Gloria’s lungs, looked over her chart, and asked some questions regarding how Gloria was feeling. Natalie had to admit that she would never play poker with this man; his face never gave anything away. When he told Gloria that he wanted to see her in his office tomorrow, Natalie knew that something was not right. Not wanting to upset Gloria further, Natalie told Gloria to wait in the waiting room for her and she would be along in a moment. Once alone with Dr. Bowden, Natalie asked him to spell it out.
“Natalie, your mom’s lungs sound like they have some fluid in them. It could be anything from she’s starting to get a cold, pneumonia, or something more severe concerning the tumors. I want her to have a good night’s rest and we will evaluate tomorrow.” The kind doctor said, as he spoke softly with Natalie in the quiet corridor.
After Natalie had asked a few questions regarding the medication dosage for tonight, she bid Dr. Bowden farewell and quickly went to make her mother’s appointment for tomorrow. When she had the late morning appointment time, she walked over to where Gloria was sitting in the waiting room. Her mother was just staring off into space and didn’t even notice Natalie’s approach.
“Mom, ready to go?” Natalie gave Gloria’s arm a slight shake and was answered with Gloria returning to the here and now.
“Oh Natalie, sorry, I was day dreaming,” Gloria said, as she slowly made her way to her feet and started her slow paced walk to the door. After having her mother take a seat on the bench next to the entrance outside, Natalie went and got the car and drove up to the curb to let Gloria in. When her mother was buckled into her seat, Natalie drove toward the hospital exit.
Knowing full well that Gloria was worried about this new concern, Natalie tried to make small talk on the short ride home. But Gloria would either give a one word answer or she would not answer at all. She just continued to stare out the passenger side window. When Natalie made the final turn into the small driveway next to the simple ranch style house, she could not help but feel embarrassed by the state of the houses’ appearance. The shutters needed to be repainted and the shrubbery could use a good overhaul, but it just was not a priority. Perhaps Natalie should mention something to her brothers, but then they would just rehash all the old arguments of how their mother should be moved into an assisted living facility. In Natalie’s opinion, all that did was make her out of sight out of mind. But then again, that’s how her brothers generally thought of their mother. Natalie knew that they cared deeply for Gloria and they even offered to pay for the change of living arrangements, but Natalie just felt that they were trying to fix a problem and their mother was not a “problem” to Natalie.
Once Natalie got Gloria into her chair and settled with a cup of tea and a slice of toast, she went about making her own dinner for the evening. Looking at the contents of the refrigerator with the door open, Natalie’s eyes roamed over the leftovers from the evening before, as well as the soon to go bad salad makings that she had bought last week at the market. Hating to waste anything, Natalie took out the produce and made three small salads; one for her dinner, one for her mother if she decided she wanted something more than toast and finally one for lunch for the next day.
“Hey Mom, how are you feeling? Do you want anything else?” Natalie asked, as she walked into the small parlor where Gloria was sitting in the worn blue recliner. She noticed then that the tea and toast sat on the side table untouched and Gloria was asleep in the chair with the ratty old afghan over her lap. Natalie hated to wake her; sleep was always so elusive for her mom. She gently bent down, removed her mom’s shoes and tucked the afghan tighter around her. She clicked the light off and went back into the kitchen to finish off her own dinner.
After going in to check on Mom one more time, she quietly made her way down the hall to her own room. Natalie quickly changed out of her jumper and tights into her long soft sleep shirt. She padded out to the bathroom, taking another quick peak at Gloria who was softly snoring. When Natalie returned to her room, she picked up her recent cowboy novel and started to read. Reading was not only one of the few gratifying pastimes for Natalie but it also helped her cope with the ongoing stress of Gloria’s diagnosis. Natalie enjoyed how she could transport from reality to the story. She imagined that she, herself, was the heroine. It was easy to relate to the heroine’s less than attractive looks and self-image. She was intrigued as she read how the heroine made a simple business proposition to a local rancher and how the turn of events and feelings made for a sensual story. Coming to the end of the chapter, Natalie decided to call it a night, clicked off the bed side lamp and nestled down under the blanket. After tossing and turning, she finally found sleep. However the small amount of sleep and dreams she did have, resulted in an uneventful dull echo of her own real life.
~TWO~
Dylan Cross was pissed! One of his company’s contracting projects was behind schedule. He just arrived on site to find his foreman was nowhere to be found and to top it all off, he was testy from his unusual lack of physical gratification at the hand of a female physique.
Dylan grilled the crew and he learned this was not Jones’ first extended lunch on company time. Already looking forward to the chance to do to Jones what he should have done months ago, Dylan headed off toward the entrance to the site to wait for the opportunity to let out some of his pent up adrenaline.
Dylan parked his red Silverado HD right across the entrance to the job site, then sat on his downed tailgate and waited.
Randy Jones drove up forty-five minutes later. His black Dodge Ram was freshly spit shined and still had some small water beads around the door handles. Knowing he had been caught, Randy raised his Oakley glasses until they rested on top of his slicked back light brown hair. After checking his face in the rearview mirror and wiping the remnants of Sissy’s lipstick off his mouth, he opened the door and climbed down. His pace said that he was in no rush to make his way to Dylan.
Dylan’s dark brown eyes watched as Jones took his sweet ass time getting out of the truck. After giving his driver’s door a shove shut, Jones walked with all the arrogance of someone who would play hooky on company time and think he’d be rewarded for it. Dylan’s eyes never left Jones’ face and the bastard had a cock grin on his face as if this were funny.
“Hey D, how’s it going?” Jones asked, as if this were a social visit.
Dylan hopped down from his perch and gently closed the tailgate. Looking at the younger man, he said very clearly, “You want to tell me where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing? Or do you want to save us both the horseshit and just pick up your last paycheck and get the hell off my worksite?”
So this was how it was going to go? Jones thought to himself, as he stood straight at his full height of 6'2". He had a good couple of inches on Dylan Cross, but he knew that physical intimidation wasn’t worth a piss with Cross. So he just leaned back on his heels, crossed his arms and said, “Well, I guess I’ll go tell my crew the news and head out to pick up my money.” He started to walk past his now former boss, when Dylan moved with lightning fast speed and placed a firm hand on his left shoulder.
“Apparently you need to clean out your ears, because walking onto my site wasn’t one of the op
tions I gave you,” Dylan said, enjoying his authority.
Looking down at Dylan’s hand, he was tempted to remove it but opted for pleasantry since he knew of Cross’s enjoyment and skilled reputation of old school physicality. Not that he was afraid. He just didn’t need the extra aggravation of law enforcement, given he was being fired. He’d bide his time and make sure everyone knew, especially Dylan fucking Cross, you don’t tell Randy Jones what he can and can’t do.
Putting a grin on his face, Jones slowly walked back a couple of steps and put his hands in the air as if in surrender. He saluted Cross as he climbed in his truck and peeled out onto Brewster Road.
Dylan watched as the black truck fishtailed from the sudden acceleration, causing the reflective mud flaps to wiggle as if the naked woman’s silhouette was moving.
Dylan was a bit disappointed. He had hoped Jones would put up a little resistance, which would have allowed Dylan to work off some of his ongoing internal aggression. Boy, did he need to find another outlet and fast.
Dylan walked back to the site and told the crew of Jones’ now unemployed status. He gave instructions of what needed to be done and the fact that Dylan would now be the onsite foreman. After heading over to the company trailer, Dylan went through Jones’ pathetic filing system and searched for the materials log, shipment invoices, and payroll information. Knowing he would need help, he phoned Josie, the company administrator, and asked her to arrive at Cranston Housing Development at 8am tomorrow. Dylan locked up the trailer and headed back to his truck. He climbed in and headed out, following Jones’ previous departure route.
Dylan arrived at his home later that evening. He pulled his truck into the expansive garage, fitted with custom sized doors, a car lift, as well as a wall full of industrial cabinetry for all of his automotive tools. As he turned off the ignition, he climbed down and looked at his current restoration project on the far end of the garage. The 1971 Plymouth Barracuda sat calling to Dylan; this was the car he had wanted for as long as he could remember. Of all the classic muscle cars, this was the King of that forgotten generation. Dylan liked anything that was loud, fast, and powerful. This car, once finished, would be all of that and more. He had come upon it completely by accident.