A group of teenagers have joined our game of Frisbee. A few of them want to run roughshod over a shy girl with glasses who isn’t as skilled at playing. They start to exclude her from the game and not let her have a turn. However, Mitch isn’t allowing that to happen. He is taking the time to show her how to play. I like how he is subtly showing her how to throw without making a huge deal out of it and embarrassing her.
Suddenly, my phone rings. My heart stops when I hear my grandpa’s ring tone. I notice that Mitch has a similar reaction as he throws the Frisbee to the kids and tells them to continue the game without him. He runs over to my side to make sure I’m okay.
Holding my breath, I hold the phone up to my ear. Mitch puts his arm around my shoulder and rests his head against mine so that he can also hear the conversation. I have to swallow hard before I can properly greet my grandfather.
I must sound odd because he responds with “Buttercup? Is that you? You don’t sound like yourself.”
I clear my throat and try again, “Yeah, Grandpa, it’s me. Is everything okay?”
“I suppose it’s okay — but you should’ve warned me you were expecting company. Normally we welcome everyone at our table, but with your Grandma in the hospital, it is a little bit of an issue.”
“Company? What company? Grandpa, I live thousands of miles away and I haven’t seen anybody from church in years,” I insist. “I’m not expecting any company. Are you sure they even know me?”
“Pshaw, now you’re just being silly!” he replies with a laugh. “Of course I know these kids. It is kinda hard to forget that one blond kid, he likes to hang fishing lures from his ears and color all over his body and the other girls look just alike. I was even the minister at their mama and daddy’s wedding, even though they were already married, so it kinda sticks in a man’s head, you know?”
“Ivy and Marcus are here? In Kansas?” I clarify.
“It’s what I said, isn’t it? Did you fall and hit your head this morning? Ivy and her sister are here with their intendeds. I guess Mr. and Mrs. Roguen were supposed to be here too, but they got bumped off the flight,” my grandpa explains in a tone he usually reserves for the children’s service in church. “I guess they’ll be here shortly.”
“What about Tristan’s private plane?” I ask inanely.
“Something about FAA maintenance logs. That Marcus kid just about busted a gut when I responded ‘hashtag richguyproblems’. Come on, where’s the respect for your elders? I run a farm worth some decent change and they think I live in a hay igloo with no Internet access?”
“I’m sorry, Grandpa, they just don’t know. Why did they come all the way here?”
“Well, Buttercup, I don’t rightly know. That Tristan kid, now he strikes me as pretty bright, he said it was something he could only tell you in person. I don’t know exactly what he does for a job but he acts like he’s some agent on one of those television shows Willie likes so much, you know like Agent Mulder? Anyway, he just said it was personal and he wasn’t able to discuss it with me.”
“I’ll be right there, Grandpa. We’ll hurry as fast as we can,” I reply as I start to throw things in the back of the Jeep.
The last piece of advice I hear from my grandpa before the phone goes dead is, “I expect that might be the smart thing to do. This feels like it might be important stuff.”
Once again, it’s completely apparent why Mitch is so gifted at his job. Unlike me, who has completely fallen apart the second my phone rang, Mitch has become more focused. I’m not even going to try to drive home. I just hand the keys to the CJ over to Mitch. Forget butterflies in my stomach, I think I have a flock of emus in there.
On the drive home, Mitch reaches over to hold my hand as he says, “Jess, I know you’re scared, but you don’t know. It could be happy news, for all we know. They’ve all been engaged for a while. They might have baby news or something. Didn’t I read in the news that something was going on with a baby theft ring that involved Ivy and Rogue when they were infants? It’s possible they reached a settlement,” he offers, squeezing my hand as a gesture of support.
I roll my shoulder in a half shrug as I respond, “I suppose so — but it feels like I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop, this doesn’t feel like it’s going to be good news at all. My stomach feels like it did right before my grandparents called me into the living room to tell me my parents packed up everything they owned and left the house. That’s the way I feel right now; I don’t know why, and I don’t know how — but I just know that this can’t be good news.”
Mitch lifts up my hand and kisses my knuckles before responding, “Jessica, I’m not asking you to disregard what you’re feeling. You’re right, it could very well be awful news. I just want you to know that whatever the outcome, we are partners in this. I’m here for you. You don’t ever have to wonder about that.”
“Basically what you’re saying is, you’re not going to get bored with me like my parents did and ditch me?” I ask trying to sound disaffected and humorous, but failing miserably.
Since we’re stopped at a stop sign, Mitch takes a moment to kiss me before he declares, “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Got a problem with that?”
A horn blares behind us. I glance up at the kitschy makeup mirror I attached to the visor when I was a teenager and I notice that it's Betty Sue, the hairdresser I've gone to since I was a little kid. She starts to yell random statements out of her big pink pickup at a frightening clip just like she used to at her station at the beauty salon, "Who-ee, Girl! Walter's description didn't do you any justice. You are downright gorgeous, you should go on one of those shows, you know with Tyra. You could win the whole shebang. Is that your firefighter guy you're kissing on? You know, Walter says he saved Wilma’s life? Is that true? That's just an answer to prayer right there. Can I scooch right on by? I gotta get to the store. I'll let you get right back to kissing, and I won't even tell Walter. If my man looked like that, I'd be kissing him in broad daylight too," she admits with a laugh.
Much to Mitch’s credit, he doesn’t act embarrassed at all. He just gives her a friendly wave and yells back “Thank you for the compliment. I do believe I chose one of the finest women Kansas had to offer. We need to be getting home ourselves. Thanks for chatting.”
As we drive off, I pat Mitch on the knee and proclaim, “You are the master, I bow to your skills. You have absolutely no idea how good you are. Not only did you effectively shut down the town’s biggest gossip, but you did it with extreme deftness and exemplary politeness. That will help Sheriff Foster out because her husband is the chair of the City Council and her brother is the mayor.”
“I guess that’s helpful to know, but I was just being polite—” Mitch asserts with a small shrug.
I grin widely as I respond, “I know, that’s what makes it so deviously clever. It’s too bad all of your hidden political skills are wasted on big city life.”
By the time all the polite greetings have been dealt with and Tristan and Mitch had gone to go get Isaac and Rosa from the airport, I’ve practically worn a hole in the carpet. Grandpa has opened up the church rec room for us to use today, so the twins went and got chicken and ribs from the local barbecue place and we’ve set up a pretty decent impromptu picnic for everyone. We even had time to go see my grandma at the hospital. I don’t know how my grandpa is going to feel about this, but after she saw Ivy’s new tattoo, she’s decided that she wants one to commemorate all of her years of teaching music. I can only imagine what my grandpa’s response to that is going to be. At least, there seems to be some good news from her camp. The doctors seem to have found a combination of medications that is effectively controlling my grandma’s blood sugar so she should be able to come home tomorrow. They want to do twelve more hours of testing to make sure that her blood sugar is indeed controlled.
Apparently, Ivy has had enough of my endless laps around the big empty room. She steps in front of me. I have to stop to avoid running over her. She leads m
e to a couch in the corner of the room. After we sit down and she pins me with a narrowed gaze and asks, “I’ve been your friend for years and I’ve never seen you this wound up. What’s wrong?”
“The last time I had to wait for a big talk like this, you know that my life was practically ruined,” I explain dramatically. Even as the words come out of my mouth, I know they’re a tad over the top.
“Yeah, we figured out a long time ago that your parents are not the brightest bulbs on the Christmas tree, but that’s not what this is about,” Ivy replies as she hugs me.
“Do you know what this is about?” I demand.
“No,” she answers tentatively, “not entirely. Although, what I do know is that when our guys tell you they’ve got your back, they entirely have your back. Every single one of them, Mitch included. They are professionals at other jobs and they’ve got you covered. If they didn’t have you covered, they’d just let some random stranger deal with this.”
“Deal with what?” I practically screech.
Ivy pulls a Kleenex out of her pocket and offers it to me, “Jess, it’s not my place to tell you. I know better than anybody how hard that is to deal with. Remember all those times you were beside me when I knew part of the story but not all of it? I was about ready to pull my hair out. I know how hard it is to wait. Everyone should be back in just a few minutes. They’ll explain everything to you then. Until then, do you want to tell me what’s going on with Mitch? I just think it’s pretty amazing that the two of you are together — but I guess in another way it’s almost not so much of a shock. You were fascinated with him from the first moment you saw his profile on BrainsRSexy. It’s almost as if you were drawn to him way back then — before you even actually spoke to him. Isn’t that weird? I wonder if online dating works that way for everyone else?”
For a moment, her question takes me back in time to when I first saw Mitch’s profile on the BrainsRSexy site. I remember pointing him out to Ivy and then fervently wishing that she would not at all be interested in him. I don’t know if it was my prayers or just dumb luck, but she didn’t even seem to think that he was all that interesting or handsome. I, of course, thought she was absolutely crazy when she ignored such an engaging and clearly gorgeous man. After I watched her heart melt at the mere sight of Marcus, everything became clear. Marcus and Mitch are just about as different as daylight and dark.
I take the Kleenex from Ivy as I respond, “I don’t know. All I can tell you is Mitch is the real deal. He’s as heroic as he advertises — if not more so. After a lifetime of wondering where my heart belongs, it’s nice to know it finally has a home.”
Ivy blinks away tears as she tries to fix my makeup. “There you go then. Just remember to trust that even when it’s hard.”
The doors burst open and there is immediate chaos as the room suddenly erupts in a cacophony of conversation. My grandpa is holding full-court and is fully in entertainer mode. He is currently showing off all of the recent renovations that the local youth program helped him complete on the building. I suspect that Rosa may not care quite as much about the weight of the felt under the roof tiles as my grandpa, but he doesn’t seem to notice her inattention. Mitch has taken up his usual station behind me and slightly to my left. He has learned the hard way that I’m right-handed and I often gesture wildly when I speak. Consequently, he has learned to stay out of the line of fire.
Isaac comes over and kisses me on the cheek as he quietly observes, “Mi Pequeña, those must have been some powerful wishes. I see that Mitch is much more than your friend now. You used your wish wisely, I know him to be a good man.”
“Thank you, Isaac. I know him to be a good man too. I have to ask though, how did you know he’s what I wished for at my birthday party? Mitch and I had only been going out for a couple of months; and you and I barely knew each other,” I respond.
Isaac gives me a knowing look as he smiles slyly. “I have two daughters who are very much in love and I have loved my wife ever since I found her upside down in an ice storm — it wasn’t a very hard puzzle to solve.”
“Speaking of puzzles to solve, why is everyone here, Isaac?” I ask firmly.
Isaacs scrubs his hand down his face before he nods to Tristan and points to a nearby table. “Ahh, Mi Pequeña, that is a much more difficult thing to share. There are days that I do not care for the responsibilities of my job. Today is one of those days. Shall we go sit and discuss what’s going on?” he offers.
My knees buckle at Isaac’s serious tone, as I process what he’s actually saying. It’s a good thing that Mitch is standing behind me because I collapse against his frame like an origami crane. For a few moments, it feels as if his bones are holding me up. My knees are so weak that I cannot get them under me. Mitch seems to understand what’s happening because he threads his fingers through my belt loops and securely holds on to my waist until I can collect my strength. After I catch my breath, my brain rewinds a bit and focuses on what was just said. I know it’s a rhetorical question, but part of me wants to scream, “Oh hell yes! Why do you think I’ve been waiting hours and hours?”
Mitch knows I’m on the edge because as Isaac collects his briefcase and grabs a cup of coffee, Mitch murmurs in my ear, “Red, take a deep breath. He’s got protocol to follow. You’ll have answers soon enough. Roguen has a job to do and we have to let him do it by the book even though you guys know each other. Otherwise, we could pay the price later.”
Of course, I know he’s right. I can’t let my impulsivity ruin everything — whatever this is. But, I’m about to blow a gasket here. Mitch walks us over to the table and pulls out my chair so that I can sit down. As he does so, he fishes something out of his pocket. I am amused when I see that it’s a bright yellow stress ball made to look like the classic happy face. It’s a very small one; perfectly proportioned for my small hands. “Some boyfriends would get their girlfriends fancy earrings or a dozen roses — I love the fact that you know me well enough to know that the most romantic gift you could get me would be a yellow smiley face stress ball. It just says something special about our relationship,” I tease.
Tristan smiles at me as he responds, “Hey, don’t knock it. The other day, Rogue got me these kick-ass earplugs to use at the gun range. They work better than anything I’ve ever tried before. She got the fact that I need them because I was always complaining that I had a headache after going to the gun range. I hadn’t put it together with a need for better ear protection, but Rogue did, because she knows me so well and loves me. Here’s to partners who know us better than Hallmark and Teleflora.”
“Not that I don’t appreciate the marriage advice and all, but can we really get to the point of why we’re here. I’ve been completely stressed out all day. I think I’m going to get an ulcer or throw up or both. Why did you guys come halfway across the United States to talk to me? You know that we have the Internet even all the way in Kansas. You could have called me, sent me a text message, Skyped me or video called via FaceTime or something. Why did you all come here en masse?” I inquire, my voice getting louder with every suggestion.
Tristan shuffles some paperwork before he looks at me and responds, “Jessica, you’re right. I would be frustrated too. We all wanted to come tell you that there have been three arrests in the animal cruelty case involving Hope.”
When I hear those words, all the angst and worry that I’ve been carrying around all day just seems to drain out of me and I almost slide out of my chair. It’s almost as if my backbone just dissolves. It’s like I have fallen apart and I need to be put back together. As the initial shock wears off, I start to look around and I realize there isn’t a look of celebration on everyone’s face. “Let me get this straight —you arrested the bad guys, so why isn’t everyone happy?” I ask, feeling like I’m on some strange reality show like Punk’d or Jackass.
Isaac reaches out to squeeze my hand as he continues the explanation, “Mi Pequeña, I wish that was all there was to it, but the way they were arrest
ed gives us grave concern.”
“Sir, with all due respect, we need it all on the table—” Mitch warns with a sharp edge in his voice.
Tristan picks up the story, “Jessica, the teenagers were picked up because they were trying to vandalize your car while it was parked in your driveway and they were tampering with the bird feeders.”
“Why would anybody want my Jeep? I ask incredulously. “It’s orange and obnoxious; it even has daisies on it. Even Ivy laughed when she saw the decals I found for it. Were they trying to hurt the birds in the bird feeder? They’re just poor little hummingbirds! That’s just sick!”
“Apparently they are part of the local gang and they had at least one accomplice on the inside of the police department. They found out that you were attached to the case and helped rescue Hope. They were intent on destroying your vehicle because their vehicle was impounded by the police department as part of the investigation. It seems, their vehicle is viewed as high profile within the gang units and revered so, having it taken away by the police department was considered a huge dishonor and a badge of betrayal.”
“That’s insane!” Jessica insists. “Do they know that I don’t even have a license plate number or anything else on their car! All I did was identify a patch of color that may or may not be on a license plate. I know nothing else. It could be any license plate from any state.”
Isaac chuckles as he responds, “You and I know that, dear little one, but those we pursue don’t know that”. He turns to Mitch and comments, “Campbell, you were spot on about the leather harness. We found a receipt when we got a search warrant. We’re chasing down the financials on that.”
Sheltered Hearts (A Hidden Hearts Novel Book 2) Page 16