Learning to Stand

by Claudia Hall Christian

  “Growing! Loud! And very fun,” Charlene said. “I’ll miss the quiet peace of my Nicaraguan hideaway. Still, I’m glad to be home.”

  Charlene hugged Alex one last time before they left the bedroom. Charlene was whisked away in a flurry of ‘Oooh look at her gorgeous ring!’

  “Are you taking her books?” Andi pointed to the journals in Alex’s hand. “Scott had some too. You know the weirdest thing? I got two more in the stuff you sent back from the vault. I was going to ask you about it but I keep forgetting.”

  “I did too,” Paige said. “They were bullshit. I burned them in our fireplace. They think I can’t tell my husband’s writing to their bullshit?”

  “You burned yours?” Jennifer asked. “I shredded mine. Not Dean’s real journals. I have those. But these ones were stupid. I mean really – when did Dean ever talk about laundry?”

  “Or do laundry,” Alex laughed.

  “See what I mean?” Jennifer asked.

  “Did everyone get two?” Alex asked.

  The women’s heads nodded.

  “I didn’t, Alex,” Nancy said. “We got a box of stuff, but Joseph went through it.”

  “I’ll ask him,” Alex said. “Who still has them?”

  “I burned that garbage too,” Mrs. Harris said. “Like my boy is going to write down details of his women. Please.”

  “So these are the only ones left?”

  The women nodded in agreement.

  “I need a huge favor,” Alex said. “I’m wondering if I might borrow the guys’ journals. I kept mine in the storage vault, but the guys kept theirs…”

  “At home. We have them, Alex,” Jennifer said. “Should I collect them and bring them over or…?”

  “Charlene’s house was broken into to get Charlie’s journals. I’d rather...”

  “I’ll get them right now,” Andi said. “But...”

  “Will you give them back?” Paige’s eyes filled with tears. “They still smell like Tom.”

  “As soon as possible,” Alex said.

  “It will take me fifteen minutes, Alex,” Andi said. “I’ll go right now. Can you wait?”

  Alex nodded. Charged with their task, the women left the house.

  “You know how to clear out the room,” Charlene said.

  “They went to get the guys journals. I think there’s more to these little books then we think,” Alex said.

  “Better you have them on base than in our houses.” Charlene nodded. “You’re still looking after us, Alex.”

  “I try,” Alex said.

  Charlene smiled. She led Alex and Trece into the kitchen where she filled plates with muffins, scones, and pastries. Alex had just spied the coffee pot when one of Jennifer’s kids came in asking for her mother. Charlene followed the child out of the kitchen.

  Alex set down her plate of baked goods to make a fresh pot of coffee.

  “What do you think is going on?” Trece asked in a low voice.

  “Nothing good,” Alex said. “These fake journals? They weren’t in the vault.”

  “So someone added them to the family packages?”

  “I guess.” Alex answered her cell phone. “Joseph?”

  “Nancy said you want my journals?”

  “Something weird is going on,” Alex said. “Can you get those translators back? We’re going to have to go through all of these journals.”

  “Got it,” Joseph said. “I never received any fake journals. But, I’d notice what wasn’t mine. Right?”

  “I hope so. Were there any journals in your boxes?”

  “No,” Joseph said. “I’m going to send Troy and Vince to help you take the journals back. Bring the fakes here so we can check them out.”

  “I agree,” Alex clicked off the phone.

  Troy and Vince arrived at the same time the women were leaving. Alex and Trece collected six duffle bags full of small journals. Alex, Trece, Troy and Vince took the journals straight to Alex’s vault at Buckley.

  “What’s next?” Trece asked when they were back in the car.

  “We have to pick up Vince’s car,” Alex said. “Then a party for Troy’s father.”

  “Oh God,” Troy said. “I’m going to die.”

  Vince laughed.

  F

  CHAPTER THIRTY-seven

  Forty-five minutes later

  Tuesday afternoon

  April 1 – 1:30 P.M. MDT

  Denver, CO

  Alex was punching her finger through her third pair of stockings when she heard, ‘Will you tell her he’s here?’ outside her door. Opening the door, she interrupted Joseph and White Boy’s conversation.

  “What?” she asked.

  “There’s someone here to see you,” White Boy said.

  “It’s Roger Whitaker, Alex,” Joseph said. “He got a call from Jennifer.”

  Grabbing her heels, Alex padded barefoot down the stairs to her private living room. Entering the room, she saw the back of an impeccably dressed man. With French cuffs peeking from his designer suit, he was every bit the high powered, world famous psychiatrist. When he turned, she saw the tears streaming from his eyes.

  “Roger.” Alex embraced him.

  “I’m sorry, Alex.” His southern accent gave his words an effortless charm. “Jennifer called. She said you needed Jax’s journals. I...”

  “I haven’t seen you since...”

  “I was waiting for him, you know? We were going to run the Seine,” Roger said. “October Eighth. The worst day of my life.”

  Alex led him to a cozy sofa. She nodded to White Boy who pulled closed the door to the common area. Roger took a white handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe his tears.

  “Seeing you… again... Hearing Jennifer’s voice... I...”

  With her hand on his leg, she waited for him to catch his breath.

  “I waited for an hour. Jax was often late. Especially when he was with the team. There was always one more laugh. One more thing to say. Something Alex needed.”

  “He loved us.”

  “Loved? Yes that too,” Roger said. “He’d sent me a card asking me to meet him in Paris. He said he had something for me. So I went. I spoke to him when you landed. ‘Meet me on the Seine,’ he said. ‘I love you,’ he said. And then… nothing. After eight and a half years of late night conversations, arguments, effortless rants during runs, cards, emails, notes, God damned IM… Then there was only silence.”

  “How did you find out?” Alex asked.

  “I went to the absinthe shop he loved so much,” Roger said. “It was on fire. I saw Rasmussen come out of the building covered in blood. He was screaming at everyone – fire, police, medics. Then I saw what he was holding... You. And I knew. Jax would have given his life for you. If you were in that condition… My Jackson was gone.”

  “I don’t know how I made it home,” Roger said. “I don’t remember the next year. I was Jax’s beneficiary so I received a check. Eight and a half years of love and life stuffed into a white envelope with a check inside. His effects went to his parents.”

  “I’m sorry,” Alex said. “I had no control...”

  “I know,” Roger said. “Thank you for the boxes this year.”

  “I sent them myself,” Alex said. “Well, Raz and I did. The Army was going to send everything to his parents and I...”

  “Don’t ask, don’t tell,” Roger said. “Jax never ever cared about being gay. Ever. He believed God had infinite wisdom. And being gay was part of God’s plan. His parents were a different story. They wouldn’t speak to him. For twenty-six years. ‘Not until he gave up being gay.’ That was their condition. Now they’ve erected a memorial to him. Ridiculous.”

  “Guilt and grief create a kind of insanity,” Alex said.

  “I saw you fight that cretin,” Roger said. “At Wahoo’s? Jax would have been furious.”

  “I miss him horribly, Roger. I can barely say him name… He took such special care of me.”

  “He loved you,” Roger said. “H
e loved the way you and Jesse did your jobs regardless of what people said. Egoless. He admired that about you. He says that over and over again in the journals.”

  “Weren’t they in code?”

  “He taught me the code,” Roger said. “It was a fun game for us. Writing in codes. When you’re a gay Southern gentleman, a little espionage comes with the territory.”

  Alex smiled.

  “Why did Jax want me to meet him in Paris?”

  “He wanted to ask you to marry him,” Alex said. “Paul stuck a bug in Jax’s ear about it. Paul planned to ask Greta. Jax asked me to find out if it was even possible. He wanted to ask you in Paris, and then marry you in Montreal.”

  Nodding, Roger gulped at his emotion.

  “I have something for you,” Alex said. “Well, two things. Can you wait here?”

  “Are you going to your office?” Roger asked. “Why don’t you take these?”

  He held up a small messenger bag. He flipped open the top to reveal Jax’s journals.

  “Did you receive any journals from the Army?”

  “No, I don’t think it occurred to anyone that Jax and I… I wasn’t on anyone’s radar. I only received the boxes from you.”

  With a nod, Alex took the journals from Roger.

  “I’ll be right back,” she said.

  “We have to GO!” Troy yelled as she ran past him on the basement stairs.

  She opened her office, grabbed a small plastic bag from the safe, relocked her office, and then gave the bag of journals to Matthew.

  “What’s this?” Matthew asked.

  “Jax’s journals,” Alex said. “See if you can figure out what’s going on.”

  “Aren’t they in some code?”

  “Jax never learned any complicated codes,” Alex said. “He never felt he needed them.”

  Groaning at the pain in her hip, she jogged back up the stairs.

  “Take them to the carriage house,” Alex said.

  Glancing back, she saw Matthew nod. Alex entered the sitting room to find Roger weeping again.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Therapist trick. I can keep it together when another person is around. But alone... I would have loved to spend my life with Jax. I would have married him in a heartbeat – anything for Jax.”

  “I’m not sure why these don’t have a box,” Alex said. She held her hand out to show Roger. “I think because they are men’s rings.”

  “What?”

  “This is what I was trying to give you last year,” Alex said. “We have a lot to go over, but...”

  A helicopter flew overhead.

  “You have to go,” Roger said.

  Alex took a single ring from the bag. It was a simple gold wedding band with a one carat diamond held in a pressure setting.

  “Read the inscription,” Alex said.

  “For my one and only true love ~~ Jax” To keep from weeping, Roger slipped the ring on his ring finger. “It fits.”

  “Paul and Jax went to great pains to make sure the rings to fit,” Alex said. “He had this made for himself. So it would match.”

  “You should keep the ring, Alex,” Roger said. “I’d like you to.”

  Alex shook her head.

  “Really,” Roger stared at the ring on his finger. “If I could bury it with him, I would. The next best thing is to give it to you. You’ll keep doing the work?”

  “I don’t know… maybe.”

  “You’ll find out who did this?”

  “I intend to,” Alex said.

  “Give it back to me when you can tell me why someone killed the single finest human being on this planet,” Roger said.

  Sniffing at her tears, Alex nodded her head.

  “Jakker’s here.” Troy stuck his head in the door.

  Roger hugged her.

  “I’ll show myself out,” Roger said.

  “Nice to see you, Roger. Let’s not wait so long.”

  He nodded. She was almost to the door when he said:

  “Thanks for giving Jax back to me.”

  She nodded. Slipping on her heels, she ran out the front door.

  FFFFF

  One and a half hours later

  Tuesday afternoon

  April 1 – 2:00 P.M. MDT

  Near Morrison, Colorado

  “Do I look okay?” Trece asked. “The Rock helped me pick out this outfit. He said big guys like us look better with the white T-shirt and a tux jacket.”

  “You’re more nervous than Troy,” Alex said.

  “I’m not nervous,” Troy said. Wearing a tuxedo, he paced back and forth in the Black Hawk passenger compartment. “Why would I be nervous? After all, it’s only a little party for my famous father… who loves me… his Army loser son. Ah fuck...”

  “Alex? Will you fix my tattoo?”

  “Sure.”

  Alex took the tattoo concealer from him and began working on the teardrop tattoo next to his left eye. This was Trece’s first time mixing with ‘normal people.’ He was afraid he would stand out, or worse intimidate people.

  “Why don’t you get that thing taken off?” Troy asked.

  “Why don’t you shut the fuck up?” Trece asked. “Some things are not your business.”

  Troy opened his mouth then caught Alex’s ‘leave it’ look. Troy put his hand on Trece’s shoulder.

  “Sorry man.”

  “Nah, I’m sorry I barked at you. We’re a team and it’s a legitimate question,” Trece said. “My fucking cousin, that’s why. You think you got family problems. Man, my cousin will kill you for no reason at all. I have to wear this brand because he told me to take his cop hit. I was ten years old. Fuck. If I get it removed, he will kill my mother. Period.”

  Trece’s eyes shifted to Alex. Her kind smile melted the bundle of tension in his chest. He let out the breath he’d been holding.

  “Hasn’t stopped you has it?” Alex asked.

  “Because of Pershing and your dads,” he said.

  “Because of you,” Alex said. “There you go. Troy, can you see the tear drop?”

  “Nope.”

  “Now tell me again about this Dahlia?” Trece asked. “I’m not sure if I should shoot her or fuck her.”

  Troy laughed.

  “Maybe we should do both,” Trece said. “Except you, Alex. No girl on girl action for you today. We don’t want Troy to get too aroused. He might go crazy then what will his father say? He’ll have to admit to being a sex starved... What’s it been Olivas? Twelve hours?”

  Standing, Alex adjusted her short linen skirt and tucked in the white blouse. Samantha bought this designer outfit for Alex. She should be grateful, but why was the skirt so short? Sighing, Alex tugged on the skirt.

  “Weapons?” Alex asked.

  Trece pulled an automatic handgun from a shoulder holster and another from a waist holster. Troy lifted his pant leg showing a Smith Wesson .38 on his leg. Alex pulled her Glock from its sacrum holder.

  “Ammo?” Trece asked.

  Alex opened her clutch purse to show two clips. Troy had two circular clips in his pocket. Trece had two clips in his pants pocket.

  “Body Armor?” Troy asked.

  He pushed at Alex’s chest then raised a finger to Trece. Trece growled at him and Troy jumped back. Trece laughed then lifted his black T-shirt showing his Dragon body armor. Troy unbuttoned his dress shirt.

  “Then we’re set,” Alex said.

  She tugged on her shirt

  “Your outfit doesn’t match your purple cast,” Troy said.

  “Thanks. I’ll make certain to tell Sami not to buy me anything that doesn’t match the cast,” Alex said.

  The helicopter slowed as they approached Red Rocks Amphitheater. Enormous red sandstone formations jutted out of the earth as if tossed by a giant discus thrower. The amphitheater was a fusion of enormous red sandstone rocks and concrete. As the helicopter made its descent to the upper parking lot, Alex thought she saw her parents talking to Maria on the upper terrace.

&nbs
p; Turning to Troy, Alex put her hands on his shoulders, she said, “No Dahlia.”

  “No Dahlia, no,” Troy moaned.

  Laughing, Trece took up the call. Alex groaned.

  When Zack joined in, Alex ordered them to stop. She gave Zack his tux jacket, straightened his bow tie and gave him a comb.

  “Weapon?” Alex asked.

  Zack showed her a Glock 9 MM from his hip holster. He took two clips from Trece. Troy poked his chest ensuring his body armor.

  “Get off me.” Zack slapped Troy’s hand away. “Only Bestat gets to touch me there. And you...”

  Zack slipped his arms around Alex’s waist them pulled her to him. Alex hit him with her cast. He screamed but did not let go.

  “Give us a kiss,” he said.

  She kissed his cheek then rubbed the lipstick off.

  “You better let me go,” Alex said.

  “Never.”

  “After the Boy Scout, Jesse’s been practicing this…”

  Zack screamed and jumped back from her.

  “What the fuck was that?”

  “Jesse can manipulate electricity. He’s been practicing balling the energy. You remember. Steve tried to teach us when we were kids. He’s wanted to try it out on a live person. You’re the perfect candidate.”

  Zack gave Alex a peck on the lips.

  “Love you Alex, but not you Abreu. Fuck that hurt.”

  Laughing at Zack, Trece opened the helicopter door and hopped out. He turned to help Alex out. Troy and Zack hopped out after him.

  Bestat Behur was waiting for Zack with her security detail. Her waist length dark hair was braided down her back. She wore a beautiful purple short skirt, linen top, and matching silk scarf around her neck. Her large rust colored eyes, with their long eyelashes, followed Zack’s movement from the helicopter. When Zack and Bestat’s eyes caught, the air filled with the pulse between them. For all of Zack’s talk, Bestat was truly the love of his life. He hugged and kissed her.

  Alex hugged Bestat. They joined the line at the entrance to Red Rocks. The Secret Service was checking identification and taking finger prints.

  “How is your partner?” Bestat asked. Under her breath, she said, “What do you call him?”

  “Raz? He’s doing quite well. His back surgery went well. John’s taking care of him at the house.”