Love or Justice

by Rachel Mannino

  “You didn’t take that risk, Albert?” Emma appeared at the hallway entrance. “You didn’t put your career on the line?”

  Albert flinched and turned toward her.

  His father recovered so quickly Dante thought he might have imagined it.

  Albert clenched his fists. He set his jaw a fraction of an inch higher in defiance.

  “That was different, Emma.”

  “How is it any different? How is it any different at all?” Emma entered the room, crossing in front of her son like a mother bear protecting her cub.

  Dante furrowed his brow, his gaze turning from one to the other. Albert’s eyes followed her, his face darkening in anger.

  “Tell me, Albert, are you yelling at your son or a younger version of you?”

  “This is NOT the same thing.” Albert backed up a step.

  “It’s exactly the same. You fell in love with a woman you weren’t supposed to be with. How did that end?”

  Albert let out a cry of disgust and began to pace.

  “He hardly knows this woman!” Albert gestured to Dante.

  “You hardly knew me!” Emma moved toward him.

  Emma stood tall, her shoulders thrown back. Her eyes challenged her husband to dare contest her. Her face, lightly wrinkled and tan, held a gaunt tension as she closed on her pacing husband.

  “Wait, what’s going on here? What are you two talking about?” Dante folded his arms across his chest.

  “Your father and I were working together when we met. It was against agency policy, but it happened anyway, didn’t it Albert?” Emma didn’t even look at Dante when she answered.

  “It’s not at all the same!” Albert spoke from the corner of the room opposite them. He had run out of room to retreat. Emma kept closing in.

  “No, of course not. Unlike your son, you started an affair with one of your subordinates! Now don’t you think that’s just a tad bit worse?” Emma put her hands on her hips.

  “She’s supposed to be under his protection.” Albert stood his ground.

  “Wait, wait.” Dante pointed to his mother. “You were a secretary.”

  “Yes, for many men who were friends with terrorists. I handled all of their calls, and their contacts. Why do you think I never brought you into work with me?” Emma tossed him a sharp look over her shoulder. “Albert, do you really think you are in any position to chastise him?”

  “He lied to us.” Albert pouted. He stood in the corner, defeated. His fists hung meekly uncurled at his sides. His shoulders rounded in toward his chest, as he stared at his wife with a pained expression.

  “Oh, he did no such thing. He just didn’t tell us everything. He told us what he thought we needed to know. That’s no more or less than what you would have done.” Emma raised her eyebrows at him. “Besides, all I had to do was take one look at her and I knew. If you were even paying half as much attention to your only child, you would have noticed the way he looks at her a lot sooner.”

  “You knew?” Dante shifted on his feet.

  “Honey, I’m your mother. Of course I knew.” Emma glanced at him askance.

  “He’ll lose his job, Emma.” Albert lifted his shoulders.

  “You didn’t lose yours. That will just be a decision the Marshals Service will have to make. Not you. Now apologize to him.” Emma nodded at Dante.

  “I will not—” Albert started.

  “Apologize to him right now.” Emma enunciated every syllable. Her voice was a low, hissing rumble Dante had never heard before.

  Albert stared at his wife.

  Emma stared back, not even blinking, her hands on her hips.

  Albert sighed.

  “I’m sorry.” Albert ran his hand down his face.

  Those two tiny words hit Dante like gunfire. His body shuddered from the shock. His father had never apologized to anyone for anything before. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  “I accept,” Dante choked out.

  “Good.” She pivoted on her heel and moved toward the stove.

  Dante didn’t move. He wasn’t sure what had happened. It took him a minute to realize Laurie was hovering outside the doorway. She caught his eye. He walked over to her with halting steps.

  “Hey, how long have you been standing there?” He touched her elbow.

  “A while. I’m sorry,” she whispered back.

  “No. It’s not your fault.” He placed his hands on her shoulders.

  Her face contorted with embarrassment. She looked fresh and clean, with her face scrubbed and free of make-up. Her blonde hair was a tawny brown and dripping wet from the shower. In the soft morning light, she looked sweet enough to be his personal piece of heaven. He told his father he was glad that his relationship with Laurie had happened. That he cared about her. While that had been technically true, Dante realized it had been a vast understatement.

  “Laurie, honey, you don’t need to hover outside the doorway,” Emma called from the stove. “Don’t you pay either of these men any mind.”

  Laurie looked to Dante for help.

  He placed his hand on the small of her back to lead her into the room.

  Laurie took halting steps toward the coffee maker, and then realized she didn’t have a mug, so she tiptoed toward Emma to grab one from the cupboard.

  “Laurie, what do you want for breakfast?” Emma turned toward her with forced cheerfulness.

  “Whatever everyone else is having.” Laurie froze mid-way to the cupboard.

  “How about some crepes? Do you know how to make them?” Emma gave her a smile.

  “I haven’t made it since I was kid.” Laurie gave a nervous smile back.

  “Oh, good. I’ll show you.” Emma plucked a bowl from the cabinet.

  Dante saw Laurie relax as she breathed a sigh of relief. He sat down at the table. His father sat down across from him, looking weary. Dante almost felt sorry for him—almost. Dante stared into his coffee cup, lost in thought. He had just learned so much about his parents and their marriage. Now so much of his childhood made sense, the constant moving, the aliases, the secrecy, drilling him on what to do if a stranger approached him. His mind turned it over all through breakfast.

  After breakfast, his parents asked if he and Laurie would work in the orchard for the day. They said they just weren’t able to handle harvesting apples and pears as well as they did with the berry season. That was the reason they said anyway. His mother gave them the keys to the other farmhouse. A little while later, Dante and Laurie were in the truck driving down the road.

  “My mother was a spy.” Dante was trying to wrap his head around it.

  “Well, it does make sense, I guess. But you wouldn’t ever identify her as one.” Laurie glanced at him. “I’m sorry I caused that fight with your dad.”

  “It wasn’t your fault at all. It was him.”

  “I know, but it was about me. I should have pushed you to tell him.”

  “Would have been the exact same fight no matter which way it went. To have the nerve to tell me I shouldn’t be involved with you when that’s almost how he met Mom. I can’t believe that either.”

  “He just doesn’t want you making the same mistakes he made.”

  “What? Like finding the woman he married and not letting anyone else’s rules stand between them?”

  Laurie laughed, giving him a small smile. “Didn’t know you were such a romantic rebel.”

  “Guess it’s in my genes.” Dante smirked back at her.

  Laurie laughed again.

  Dante pulled up to the farmhouse. He switched off the truck engine. He sat, shaking his head for a couple of minutes.

  “You told him you care about me.”

  Dante smiled and turned to her.

  “You heard that, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  He reached for her hand.

  “Must have been the heat of the moment.” He looked her up and down.

  “I care about you too.” She bit her lip, as if she wanted to say more.<
br />
  Dante leaned forward, taking Laurie by the chin. He kissed her, slow and sweet. When he pulled back, he ran his fingers through her hair. It grabbed at his hand in damp tangles, but he didn’t care. Then he sighed.

  “Come on,” he said finally. “Let’s go take care of these apples.”

  She laughed, opening the car door. They grabbed the apple picker, heading out into the orchard with baskets in hand. They worked until well past noon, scooping up apples dangling from above. The sun was high. The day got warm enough to burn off the morning dew on the leaves of the trees. It was just turning into fall, and some of the apple tree leaves were beginning to yellow. As they walked back toward the farmhouse, Dante and Laurie could almost feel the seasons changing.

  When they got to the front porch, Dante unlocked the door. They entered into a large sitting room that still had an assortment of antique wooden furniture. There were two matching end tables and a coffee table, all made out of deep mahogany, with ornate golden accents. The room was painted a light green, with dark green trim. To their right was the entrance to the hallway. They saw the base of the staircase leading to the second floor. At the back of the sitting room, a door led to the kitchen.

  They headed toward the kitchen. The room had pristine, tiled floors with a blue and white pattern. There was an oak kitchen table in front of them, with six matching chairs. Beyond it, was a door leading to the back yard and several windows with views of the grape vineyard out back. The walls were painted a light blue with dark blue trim, which matched the floor tiles. To their right was an island in the center of a large kitchen. The island was tiled to match the floor, but the rest of the kitchen counter top was a polished oak, like the kitchen cabinets.

  “This kitchen is so amazing.” Laurie sucked in a breath as she took it all in.

  “Nicest kitchen I’ve ever seen.” Dante set their lunch down on the table. “Mom said their neighbors just remodeled it. They did a good job.”

  “I agree.” Laurie sat down at the table.

  Their work in the orchard made them so hungry they devoured their food without saying a word.

  “Let’s take a look at the rest of the house.” Laurie said when they finished.

  “All right.” He wasn’t one to snoop around, but it was his parents’ house now.

  They went from room to room. Almost every room still had a smattering of furniture left inside, a desk, a lamp, some tables, or chairs. They were pieces the previous owners didn’t care about or just couldn’t fit into their new home. There was a formal dining room off the kitchen, and a family room next to that. Upstairs were several bedrooms and bathrooms. The master bedroom had a large, four-poster bed, complete with mattress and box spring. The bathroom attached to the master bedroom was enormous, with two large sinks, a shower, and a full tub. There was even room for a vanity, which was beside the door. Everything in the room was light sandstone.

  “This bathroom is incredible. I can’t even believe this. Why don’t your parents live here?” Laurie gestured to the vanity.

  “I have no idea, but they seem pretty settled into their simple farm house.”

  “I’d move in about a heartbeat. This house is beautiful!”

  “It is.” He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her toward him. “So are you.”

  Laurie blushed. He kissed a trail from her forehead to her mouth. Then he covered her mouth with his, backing her out of the bathroom.

  “Dante!” Laurie squirmed in his grasp. He held her tightly, determined to make it to the bed.

  “What?” he asked, smiling. “There are no parents here. No other Marshals. I finally have you to myself.”

  Laurie chuckled at him.

  “Besides, they were nice enough to leave us a bed. I think we shouldn’t let it go to waste.”

  He fell onto the bed on his back, pulling her with him. She laughed at him, trying to wrestle against him, but she didn’t try very hard. She gave in to his lovemaking, and soon enough he had her naked skin pressed against the length of his.

  Afterwards, they lay on the bed beside one another, exhausted. Dante made a mental note to steal a blanket and sheets from his mother’s hall closet. He smiled to himself. If he was going to be here with Laurie often, well, that would suit him just fine. He made a circular pattern on Laurie’s shoulder with his finger, as he closed his eyes.

  “I’m ready for a nap.” Laurie nuzzled his neck.

  “Sounds good to me.” He pulled her closer. “Then we can finish in the orchard.”

  “Deal.”

  They slept for half an hour, before the chill that crept through the window chased them off the bed and back out into the sun. They worked on the pear trees in the afternoon, which lined either side of the driveway. They had to be more careful with the pears, which bruised easily. Their work was slower. They didn’t have as much fruit to carry back to the barn at the end of the day. As they drove back to the house, they talked about all of the different kinds of apples and pears they had yet to harvest.

  “Dad told me before we left we could keep most of the money from the apple and pear harvest so we can get some winter clothes. I think we’re going to need them soon.” Dante reached for her hand as he drove with the other.

  “Dante, how long do you think we’ll live here?”

  He winced. Laurie rushed to continue.

  “It’s not that I don’t like it here, I do. I like it here. I just wondered.”

  Dante sighed. He turned his head to look at her.

  “I don’t know, Laurie. I just don’t know.”

  “I do like it here.” She squeezed his hand.

  “I know. I do too. I just…I have to know Kaimi is behind bars, hopefully behind maximum-security bars. I need to know the mole is in prison.” Dante glanced at her as he turned into the driveway. “Anything less and I can’t take you back.”

  Dante looked out over the peaceful landscape.

  “How will we find out if Kaimi and the mole are caught? Are you going to call Rick?”

  “I can’t. He could be the mole, for all I know. I can’t talk to anyone in the Marshals Service,”

  “Then how will you know?” Laurie glanced at him.

  He hesitated. He didn’t like hiding it from her.

  “Dante?”

  He sighed. Dante ran his hand through his hair.

  “My dad’s talking to some of his contacts still at the CIA. You can’t tell my mom, Laurie. He made me promise it would just be between him and myself, okay? My mom wouldn’t be happy if she knew he was still talking to his old contacts when he’s supposed to be retired.” He glanced at her. “Promise me you won’t tell her?”

  Laurie grimaced.

  “I promise. I won’t tell her. Besides, he’s only looking into it because of me anyway.”

  “Just don’t let it slip out either. Remember, she worked for the CIA too, apparently.”

  Laurie laughed.

  “You’re right, she might question me while we’re pulling up potatoes.”

  Dante let out a hard laugh. He couldn’t reconcile his mother with his image of an agent either. He pulled up to the house. He grabbed a small basket of pears from the back before joining Laurie on the porch.

  When he walked into his parent’s house, they were both in the kitchen. Emma was at the stove, a frothy soup smelling of bay leaves and thyme bubbled in front of her. Albert paused as he spoke to Emma from the table. Everything appeared calm and peaceful between them now, with no trace of the tension from this morning. Dante wondered what had happened, but he knew better than to ask.

  “How did the harvesting go?” Emma lit up as they walked in.

  “Good. Great. We’re pretty tired.” Dante put down the basket of pears.

  “How much did you harvest?” Albert clasped his hands together.

  “A bin of apples. The pears were easier to bruise, so we had to go slow. Got half a bin or maybe a little more.” Laurie sat down at the table.

  “Not bad.” Albe
rt raised his eyebrows. “Not bad at all.”

  “The farmhouse over there is beautiful. Gorgeous!” Laurie rested her head on her hands, her eyelids drooping. Dante knew she was exhausted.

  “Yes, it is beautiful. Did you go upstairs?” Emma peered at them over her shoulder as she stirred.

  “We did. The master bedroom and bathroom were amazing! I don’t understand why you haven’t moved in yet.” Laurie melted onto the table in a puddle.

  “Oh, Albert and I have plenty of room here. We have almost the same size master. Maybe not as polished, but close enough. We’ve been trying to find a renter for the house, but haven’t had much luck.” Emma shot Dante a pointed look.

  “We’re hoping maybe Bob and Gabriella will get interested, if they ever come to visit.” Albert leaned onto the table with his elbows.

  “Because of course he doesn’t actually trust anyone else to live there.” Emma took bowls out of the cabinet and set them down with a hearty thunk.

  Albert rolled his eyes.

  “I didn’t say that, Emma. I would just hope my brother and his wife could live a little bit closer. There would be plenty of room for the boys.” Albert huffed.

  Dante looked at Laurie, and they both smiled. Yes, now he knew his parents were just fine.

  “Emma is that soup you’re making going to take very long?” Albert ran his hands over the table. “Because if it is, I could use Dante’s help in the barn for a minute.”

  Emma dipped a spoon into the soup, tasting it.

  “Probably another ten to fifteen minutes or so. I don’t think I soaked the beans long enough.” She waved them away.

  “Son?” Albert raised his eyebrows at him.

  “Yeah, sure.” Dante stood up. He didn’t want to move, but he had a feeling he knew what this was about.

  He walked out to the barn with his father, where Albert turned on several work lights.

  Albert walked over to a panel beside the metal tool organizer. He pulled out a fake portion of the wall. Dante could see there were several stacks of cash and behind that, several rolled up pieces of paper, all encased in a glass container. He watched his father open the lock on the glass container with a key on his key ring. Then he took out one of the rolls of paper. He brought it over to the worktable where Dante stood waiting.