by Beth Flynn
Jonas snapped his head her way. “Your position?”
“Yeah. I was just getting ready to tell you. It’s actually good news for me. They knew when I accepted the job I wasn’t thrilled about the travel. I told them that if and when an equal position became available, I wanted to be considered for it. They offered me a new job today, Jonas. New department, same title, same pay, no travel.” She’d used four fingers to tick off each point. “I accepted,” she said with a happy grin. Tilting her head curiously, she continued, “I wonder if Timothy carried a weapon if it would’ve prevented the mugging?”
“Probably not,” Jonas grumbled. “Unless he knew how to use it properly and maybe not even then.”
Lucy agreed. “I can’t see Timothy Morton as the type to be well-versed in firearms. And what I’m going to say next has nothing to do with anything.” She paused thoughtfully. “Even though he’s never been anything but professional, there’s a creep factor to Timothy Morton that I’ve never been able to put my finger on.”
“You should always follow your instincts, baby,” Jonas assured her. “Speaking of guns, we haven’t done any target practice for a while. You up for some?”
“I like target practice, but let’s face it, Jonas, I’m a better shot than you. I don’t really need it.” She giggled.
Even though she was teasing, Jonas couldn’t help but agree. His wife was an excellent shot. He stood then and offered her his hand. “Time for me to head to Ruthies. I might be home early, wife. Thursday nights are slow.”
Lucy took his hand and followed him into the house. After kissing him goodbye, she settled herself on the couch with a snoring Chaos to look over some work she’d brought home. Before she knew it, she heard the familiar rumble of Jonas’ motorcycle. Glancing at the clock, she realized more than three hours had passed. It was well past one in the morning.
Jonas let himself in the front door and walked over to her. He bent low to kiss her forehead. “Late night for you, huh? I’m going to grab a shower, sweetheart. I’ll see you in bed.”
Lucy stood and followed Jonas into their bedroom. “What’s the black stuff on the back of your shirt?” she asked.
“Where?” he asked as he started to pull it over his head.
“By your right shoulder. Maybe a little lower,” Lucy informed him as she walked around to face him.
“You know that undeveloped land next to Ruthies?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“A bunch of local kids like to hang out there. I’m always running them off because they’re too young to be hanging in the woods next to a place like Ruthies. Especially in the wee hours of the morning.”
“How old are these kids?” she questioned. “And what do they have to do with the black stuff on your shirt?”
Jonas shrugged. “They’re not even teenagers. I’d say about eleven or twelve. Their parents would shit if they knew their kids were sneaking out that late. Anyway,” he said while slipping out of his boots and jeans, “they were setting off fireworks tonight. One caught me in the back when I was heading for my bike. I scared them all off before I came home. I’m pretty sure they won’t come back this time.”
“Does it hurt? Maybe I should look at it, Jonas.”
He shook his head. “It stings a little,” he told her as he headed for the shower.
Ignoring his reply, Lucy bent down and picked up the discarded shirt.
Jonas had just reached into the tiled shower and turned on the water when he heard his wife’s approach. He turned around and smiled at Lucy. “Came to join me, baby?” he asked with a grin.
Lucy held up his shirt. “I thought this might be a powder burn, Jonas. But, it’s not. It’s dried blood. Let me look at where the firecracker, or whatever it was, hit you.”
“Can I shower first?” he asked.
“No. Turn around,” she insisted. A few moments passed before she skirted around him and turned off the shower. “You weren’t hit with a firecracker, Jonas.”
He raised a brow.
“I’m pretty sure you have a bullet in your back.” She poked her finger through a hole in his shirt as proof.
After several moments of haggling over her assessment, Jonas muttered, “One of those little shits must’ve been playing with a gun.”
“You said they had firecrackers,” Lucy cried.
“They did. I saw them. Must’ve hid the gun. I’ll find out tomorrow for sure. I’ll be able to track their little asses down.”
“Tomorrow?” Lucy shook her head. “No way. We need to get you to the hospital.”
Jonas reached around her and turned the shower back on. “No. No hospital. I’m going to take a shower and you’re going to grab some tweezers and alcohol, and when I get out, you can dig the slug out.”
Lucy stood back, appalled. “I am not taking a bullet out of your back! How are you not screaming in pain? Why isn’t there blood everywhere?”
Jonas appeared indifferent as he climbed under the water. “Probably because it was shot from far enough away that it didn’t do the kind of damage it could’ve done if it was closer. I doubt it’s even deep. I was the last one to leave Ruthies. It was a super quiet night. Not a soul in the parking lot. The shot came from those kids in the woods. I’m sure they weren’t aiming at me. It was a stray bullet.”
“I don’t care what kind of bullet it was, Jonas. I need to get you to the hospital.”
Instead of replying to her comment, he stepped out of the water and quickly towel-dried off. “I’m not going to the hospital. Get your tweezers and some alcohol. You’re either digging this bullet out, wife, or I’m leaving it where it is. It feels like a bad bee sting. My body will either accept it or eventually push it out on its own.”
Lucy marched out of the bathroom. He found her pacing around their bedroom and mumbling to herself. When she sensed his presence, she looked up at him. “I can’t dig a bullet out.”
“You’re a doctor,” he reminded her.
“Not a surgeon, Jonas!”
“You worked on cadavers in school,” he reminded her. “You perform skin biopsies on live humans all the time. You’ve dug into flesh.”
“I’ve worked on people who were already dead, Jonas. I wasn’t concerned about hurting them,” she explained. “Or doing something wrong.” She brushed a frustrated hand through her hair. “And yes, I’ve performed deep tissue biopsies, but it’s not the same as digging out a bullet.”
“I trust you, Lucy. You’re my angel, remember? You can do it. Besides, if you don’t, it stays where it is or I can call Brad. He was a medic in the Army. He’ll come over and do it.”
“Now you’re dragging my best friend into this?” she shouted.
“I won’t be dragging him into it. You will be by not doing what I’m asking you to do.”
After several more minutes of arguing, Lucy finally relented. She would never admit to Jonas that it was easier than she’d thought. It’s blind, dumb luck that it came out as easily as it did, she told herself. It could’ve been so much worse if it was any deeper. She held the offending object up in front of him while secretly marveling that her husband didn’t even flinch during the procedure.
“It’s a .22,” he told her. “If it had hit bone, I’d have been howling. And the sound of a .22 handgun would’ve blended in with the fireworks they were playing with, so thinking it was a firecracker I got hit with was a valid assumption.”
“You need a stitch or two.” Her voice held an edge that ensured he knew she was not happy with him at all.
He stood. “I’ve got some really thin fishing wire in the garage. It’ll do.”
“You are so frustrating, Jonas!” she yelled at his back.
When he returned, she wiped away the small trickle of blood that had been dripping from the tiny wound and used a sterilized sewing needle to close it. “Not the best patch job in the world,” she reluctantly informed him, “but it’ll obviously have to do. You better pray it doesn’t get infected, Jonas.” With that t
hought, she let out an anguished cry. “What if it does get infected? What if I’m ultimately responsible for you getting worse?”
He grabbed her shoulders. “Lucy. Stop it. I have two scars from knife wounds that I stitched up myself. We have some leftover antibiotics in the medicine cabinet from when you had strep throat. Even though I don’t think I’ll need them, I’ll take them anyway.”
She pressed herself into his chest and started to cry. “Jonas, don’t ever ask me to do this again. Please, don’t ever ask me again.”
Her tears were almost his undoing. His beautiful wife was a strong woman, so for this to bring her to tears must be hitting deeper than he thought. “I’m sorry, wife,” he said as he gently stroked her back. “I’m not used to doing things by the book. A trip to the hospital would’ve involved a police report. It would’ve turned into a thing. They probably wouldn’t have believed it was a stray bullet from a bunch of kids. They’d want to tear Ruthies apart.” He swallowed. “I’m sorry for bullying you into this, Lucy.”
She looked up at him. “I understand. Just don’t come home with any more injuries. Please. Stray bullet or not, I’m not sure I can handle another one.”
He did his best to reassure her. “The chances of me taking another stray bullet are one in a million, Lucy. It won’t happen again.”
“It’s not just the stray ones I’m worried about, Jonas,” she sadly admitted. It’s all of them. Especially the ones that could make me a widow.
Chapter 69
The seasons came and went, and even though there wasn’t an obvious distinction between them in South Florida, they still brought change.
Anthony and Christy finally got married and in 1982 had a beautiful baby boy they named Slade. It triggered a maternal longing in Lucy, who told Jonas she was ready for motherhood. He was as excited as she was and even though they were actively engaging in trying to get pregnant, it didn’t happen as soon as they’d hoped.
Their elderly neighbor, Mrs. Hancock, eventually passed away and her nephew sold the home to a family from Pakistan. After telling him the news, Lucy heard Jonas grumble, “There goes the neighborhood.” She’d immediately called him out on it. “Do you seriously think there’s going to be a welcoming committee?” he’d growled before stalking off.
Lucy still maintained a very tight friendship with Brad who’d moved his home accounting office to a location just south of Naples. His business was thriving and he’d taken on an accounting partner. Having a partner allowed Brad to spend more quality time with Lucy. They normally got together on a night that Jonas worked at Ruthies, but even if he didn’t have to work, he never objected to his wife spending time with her best friend.
In addition to her close relationship with Brad, Lucy made new friends at work, but socializing with them was more challenging. And it wasn’t because of anything Jonas did but because of her friends’ reactions to him. Unlike the university group at her celebratory dinner who’d been fascinated by Jonas, Lucy got the impression her work friends were more frightened of him. It was probably for the best since Jonas made it clear his idea of a good time wasn’t playing board games with scientists while sipping on Chardonnay. Lucy laughed at the description and couldn’t help but toss back playfully, “I get that. I can’t see myself enjoying a game of pool at Ruthies while you break noses and throw troublemakers out on their butts.”
They compromised by occasionally meeting up with one couple who didn’t appear to be intimidated by Jonas. The husband had a motorcycle and seemed to enjoy the company of another spouse who wasn’t entrenched in lab talk. They would’ve spent more time with Anthony and Christy, but parenthood came with a lot of responsibilities that kept the pair busy.
The cabin in the Everglades became their home away from home. Jonas had taken his wife on more than one luxury vacation, but Lucy’s first choice was always the cabin. There was a simplicity and charm to his grandfather’s home that called to them. There was no traffic, no telephones, no faxes, or televisions. It was just Jonas and Lucy and the uncomplicated lifestyle they’d come to love alongside the natural inhabitants of the glades.
During their most recent getaway, in addition to working on a roof repair, Jonas found plenty of time to hunt. It wasn’t until Lucy vomited up her third breakfast in a row of fried alligator and scrambled eggs that they let themselves wonder if she’d finally gotten pregnant. It had been two long and disappointing years since Anthony and Christy had their baby. There had been a couple of false alarms, so Lucy was hesitant to get her hopes up but couldn’t deny the excitement she and Jonas were starting to feel. After cooling off in the pond, they sunned themselves in the nude as they dared to hope it was true.
They knew they were getting ahead of themselves when they discussed names for their future child. Jonas was surprised at Lucy’s reluctance to suggest a name for a girl.
“There’s a fifty-fifty chance it’ll be a girl, Lucy,” Jonas explained.
“I know what the odds are, Jonas. I just have a gut feeling our first baby is going to be a boy,” she happily announced.
“Do you want to name him after your father?” Jonas inquired as he leaned up on one elbow and placed his free hand on Lucy’s stomach.
She shook her head. “I want to name him Isaac. After your grandfather. It’s a name I’ve always loved and it feels right. Especially after our history at his home.” As an afterthought, she added, “It would be nice if his middle name could be David. That was my father’s real name. I like how Isaac David sounds.”
“I like it too, sweetheart,” Jonas told her as he placed a kiss on her temple.
They cut their mini-vacation short because both were anxious to find out if their suspicions were correct.
Jonas paced the clinic waiting room as he awaited the news that would change their lives forever. He knew there was good news by the expression on his wife’s face as she excitedly entered the seating area and ran toward him. He easily caught her as she jumped into his waiting arms and wrapped her legs tightly around his waist.
“We’re going to have a baby, Jonas. We’re going to have a baby!”
Chapter 70
They waited two full months before sharing the news of Lucy’s pregnancy with her family, Brad, and her co-workers. Although she did have a sneaking suspicion that some of the women had already assumed it based on her occasional mid-morning bouts with nausea. Other than Anthony and Christy, Jonas didn’t feel the need to share the news with any of his associates at Ruthies or Camp Sawgrass. Lucy prompted him to tell the few employees that worked for Brooks’ Bait & Tackle, including one she’d never met. “Even though he’s been retired for a few years now, I remember you telling me Lewis worked there since you were a kid. It couldn’t hurt to let him know as well.”
Jonas shrugged it off. “I don’t have a relationship with him, Lucy. Besides, he moved up to Orlando where his daughter and grandkids relocated. He’s not even in town.”
Once the morning sickness subsided, Lucy’s pregnancy was a relatively easy one. She negotiated a six-month maternity leave and was elated to know the day care center would be up and running to coincide with her return to work.
When she was seven and a half months into her pregnancy, Brad and Christy threw her a surprise baby shower and it was after the gifts were put away and the baby’s room was waiting for its new occupant that she once again broached the subject of Jonas’ stepmother. Lucy couldn’t explain why but felt her husband’s reluctance to face his feelings concerning Eunice Sidwell had gone on long enough. She didn’t want any chance of his emotional baggage interfering with how they would parent their child. She’d been raised without a father and had every right to carry resentment at how he’d been taken from her. But she refused to dwell on the past. And even though she didn’t think Jonas dwelled on the past, the grudge he was apparently carrying tethered him to it.
They were in bed, and Lucy leaned against the headboard while applying a moisturizer to her arms and belly. Jonas offered to he
lp, but she politely brushed him off. He lay back against his pillow with his hands clasped behind his head and watched the eleven o’clock news.
“Can you turn the news down for a minute? I want to talk to you about something.”
Jonas looked over at his wife, lifted the remote, and turned off the television. “Sure. What’s up, baby?”
“You’re not going to want to hear this, but I’m going to say it anyway.” She snapped the cap closed on the moisturizer and set the bottle on her nightstand. “I’m having a hard time coping with the fact that you aren’t bringing any family into our pregnancy. I know Lewis isn’t family, but he’s the closest thing and you’ve completely written him off, as well as your stepmother. Maybe it’s time to bury any hard feelings you have for her. I think it would be nice if she had the chance to meet our baby. To meet me. From the few things you’ve told me about your father and grandfather, she must be an amazing woman, Jonas.”
Jonas scooted up into a sitting position and gave her an odd look.
“You did meet her, wife. And if my memory serves me right, you didn’t think she was so amazing at the time. As a matter of fact, I know you didn’t care for her.”
Lucy gave a mirthless laugh. “You’re mistaken. I’ve never met your stepmother. Heck, Jonas, we’ve barely had a discussion about her. I didn’t even know her name until you brought home paperwork from the Bait & Tackle that time.”
He gave her a curious look. “You’re denying you met Marty when you showed up with cupcakes at the shop?”
Lucy sat up as far as her belly would allow. “Marty? You’re telling me that Marty is your stepmother? You said Eunice Sidwell was your stepmother.”
Jonas rolled his eyes. “Marty is Eunice Sidwell. Marty is a nickname she got as a kid. Her father used to call her Miss Smarty Pants. She had a cousin with a lisp who couldn’t say smarty and it came out marty. Eventually it stuck. And she took her new husband’s last name when she remarried.”