by Leigh Morgan
Shay didn't turn the engine off and he didn't look at her as she tried to say good-bye.
"Thanks for the workout. See you next week at the dojo." She said.
Shay just nodded, staring straight ahead. Reed grabbed her gear and jumped out. She waved good-bye. Shay didn't.
Things got worse from there.
As the dust from Shay's tires settled in the early evening light, a pristine late model Cadillac she didn't recognize pulled in right next to her, and an equally pristine looking couple got out. Crisp, clean, and unwrinkled in the early summer heat, they looked like they just stepped out from the glossy pages of an issue of the Robb Report.
Reed lowered her head to her shoulder and sniffed her underarms as unobtrusively as possible. Her head immediately jerked up. She stunk to high heaven and the dried sweat all over her body was making her itch. All she usually wanted after a hard workout was a beer and a bath, in that order. Now, all she wanted was the Gods to turn her into an ostrich. Her second choice was to freeze time while she ran for the shower and dressed in the one casual suit she still owned before she had to greet these two unknown, uninvited perfect people.
The Gods weren't listening. What she got instead of an answer to her prayers was an elegant couple staring curiously at the weapons she held in her hands. Some days just weren't made for getting out of bed, Reed thought, forcing herself to breathe deeply. Slow, controlled breaths in and out of her diaphragm, holding and releasing, in a measured rhythm designed to bring inner peace.
It wasn't working. Reed kept at it while she surveyed the two of them attempting to find a clue as to who they were and why they were here.
The woman was about four or five inches taller than Reed, elegant and regal, dressed in casual pants, a silky knit top with no perspiration stains, and a scarf Reed was willing to bet cost more than she made in a week. The man was just as elegant and perfect, only much taller than the woman and a little older. His hair was all gray, as opposed to the woman's. What limited gray hair she had hung in tidy streaks at her temples, doing nothing to detract from the thick brownish-black hair underneath.
The gentleman looked oddly familiar, almost as if she should know him, but Reed couldn't place him. Reed was fairly certain she'd never seen the woman before.
Since she couldn't change the way she looked or smelled, Reed pulled the only thing she could out of her bag of tricks. Contrary to what Jordon might believe, she could be gracious, charming even, when she wanted to be.
"May I help you?" She asked, in her best lady-of-the-manor voice.
The gentleman entwined the lady's arm in his and took a step closer. He was deferential in his manner, neither walking too fast or too slow for the woman's heels to comfortably carry her. The way he held the woman's arm spoke of long acquaintance, but Reed thought there was more to it than that, at least for the gentleman. He seemed to care for the woman on his arm, deeply.
"Yes, you may. We're looking for Mrs. Reed Bennett."
Reed's stomach revolted. Acid shot up her esophagus, burning the back of her throat. Oh, God, what if these were prospective clients? They couldn't have come at a worse time. Heat rushed to her face as she swallowed hard and forced a smile she didn't feel, hoping that fact didn't show on her face.
"That would be me, although I'm not really sure about the whole 'Bennett' thing yet. The 'Mrs.' thing's a little up in the air too. I'm not sure I'm cut out to be a wife, but I'm Reed all right. Reed Mohr. At least that's how I remember signing the marriage certificate." Sticking out her hands in welcome, Reed fervently hoped her rambling didn't sound as inane to them as it did to her.
They both took a step back and looked at her extended hands as if she were holding poisonous snakes. Reed looked at her hands and immediately saw why. She had a sai in each hand extended toward each of their middles. Reed smiled like an idiot and threw them one at a time into the grass at the edge of the drive. They penetrated the ground perfectly, handle up, wavering with not quite spent energy. They looked menacing as hell.
Strangely enough, that made her feel better. Not more in control, just better. This was who she was, and she wasn't willing to hide too far under the surface after the emotional roller coaster her day had been. So she smiled as if greeting strangers with weapons drawn was an every day occurrence in her world. At least they weren't running for the Caddy.
"Weapons training." She said by way of explanation. "I forgot I was still holding them. To tell you the truth, I was so preoccupied with the stench coming off me that I forgot I was armed."
The gentleman chuckled. "A useful skill. It might just come in handy dealing with that 'Mrs.' thing of yours. Although I'm sure you're perfect wife material. Even with a troublesome subject as a husband."
The woman elbowed him in the ribs. "Really William. The poor girl won't know how to take that at all."
Reed assumed she was the 'poor girl' in question and may have taken offense to being called a girl and poor, even though the later was true, but the woman smiled at her before she could, radiating so much tangible warmth Reed couldn't take offense no matter how hard she tried.
"What this oaf is trying to say is it's a pleasure to meet you no matter what last name you use and no matter what your marital status. Although, I too believe you will make a perfect wife for Jordon."
The woman was obviously deluded, but sweet and well spoken, so Reed didn't say so. She smiled instead, trying to ignore the feeling that she was missing something vital, like the fact that they knew her husband by name. She held out her hand again, this time sans weapons.
"And you are?"
The man stepped forward and took Reed's hand in both of his. She felt small and fragile next to him, and it wasn't just his physical size, he had an aura of greatness about him. "I'm William Bennett." She must have looked as confused as she felt because the man added, "Jordon's uncle."
He looked down at the woman beside him. "And this is Lily Bennett."
"Jordon's aunt?" Reed asked, looking into William's eyes with hope. He smiled.
"No dear. His mother."
Oh God...Oh God...and just in case his counterpart was listening Reed added, Oh Goddess...Oh Goddess...Help me. Before she could finish that prayer, she was enveloped in the warm sensuous smelling arms of her mother-in-law who held her tight despite the fact that she stunk and was covered in dried salt. The woman didn't seem to notice or care.
"Welcome to the family, dear."
Could this day get any worse?
The answer to that question turned out to be a big fat Yes.
...
Jordon, Henry and Irma were each on their second martini. Since Charlie was pouring, they were doubles. Jordon fed most of his to the juniper bush when no one was looking. He was more of a beer or champagne kind of man. Occasionally he drank scotch, though most of the time he preferred water or tea. William got him hooked on tea at nineteen and the habit stuck. So did too many others, some good, some not so good. Funny, he hadn't questioned those habits before the elf invasion. Now he was contemplating the dubious merits of consuming copious amounts of alcohol. Or maybe he was just having adjustment issues.
Jesse leaned into him saving Jordon from musing about the character flaws he did currently have and had no intention of fixing.
"You keep watering those bushes with vodka and they're going to turn brown." Jesse said.
Jordon was learning not to underestimate this kid. He saw more than he should. "I'm trying to see if I can get them to fall asleep before Charlie does." He said, making Jesse laugh. The sound was like a precious gift given its rarity.
Jordon decided then and there that, so long as he was at Potters Woods, he was going to make it his mission to lighten the kid up. He would also help Jesse find an outlet for all that leashed energy, one that could fund his way through school and make him a fortune if he stuck with it.
"Charlie will be standing long after those bushes give up the fight, especially if Henry keeps dumping his drinks on them too. Why don'
t you both just tell Charlie you don't drink?"
Jordon was beginning to wonder the same thing. This wasn't some black tie event where he and Henry pretended to drink so they could blend in while they evaluated every shred of conversation for its future usefulness. This was a family get together on the back patio. Cocktails and conversation no more, no less. There were no secrets here worth hiding away like acorns for the winter. At least none Jordon was interested in, since no one was talking about Reed.
Jordon looked at his watch for the tenth time in an hour, wondering when Shay was bringing her home. He didn't like the idea of her with Shay, but she needed the time away. He just wished she'd hurry the hell up and get back.
"If you keep running your hands through your hair and checking your watch, even Irma's going to catch on."
Jordon narrowed his eyes and set his empty glass on the lattice work cast iron table next to him. "Catch on to what?"
"The fact that you don't know what to do around here without Reed."
Jordon opened his mouth and closed it again without saying a word. The kid was right. He didn't know what to do without Reed shouting orders at him. He was out of his element completely and he didn't have access to any of his files to pour himself into acquiring for new businesses for B.H. He was just going to have to find another way to productively spend his time. Maybe he could talk Finn into letting him have a look at the books.
Reed rounded the corner from the driveway at that moment and headed straight for him. He wasn't buying her blinding smile for a second. He stood, recognizing the tension oozing from every pore of her body, as she ran toward him and launched herself into his arms. It probably looked like a warm greeting to the others. He might have thought so too if she hadn't whispered in his ear.
"You, my dear husband, are a dead man."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Jordon watched speechlessly as his stinky elf scampered away, making excuses about showering, wondering what had her contemplating homicide, when a familiar female voice that had no place being within five hundred miles of Potters Woods said, "I'll take one of those, kind sir, if you're pouring."
He now knew what, or rather who, had Reed contemplating death. He was contemplating the same thing. Without turning to greet his mother, Jordon held out his glass to Charlie. Charlie raised an eyebrow, but wisely said nothing as he filled Jordon's glass to the brim with iced vodka. Jordon downed its entire contents in one long swallow before setting the glass carefully on the portable dry bar next to Charlie. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and turned.
"Good evening, mother." Jordon said, his gaze moving from Lily Bennett to William following a step behind. Some people would have thought his uncle was being courteous, others, that he was hesitant to engage. Neither would have been correct. William was doing what came naturally to William, getting the lay of the land, sizing up all the players before joining the group. Jordon nodded toward his uncle with a stilted, "William", before turning back to his mother.
Lily Bennett was the social opposite of William. Open and warm, she engaged everyone in turn, as if it were her job to make everyone around her, her best friend. All that warmth came as naturally to Lily as breathing. Jordon loved his mother, but it took more energy than he had at the moment to get sucked into her view that all the world needed was more love, and everyone would be happy. A vision of peace sign wearing hippies holding hands singing Kumbayah flashed through Jordon's brain, making him shudder in the evening heat.
Jordon decided vodka took too damn long to kick in. He grabbed his glass, gesturing to Charlie to pour him another. Jordon tried to ignore William's knowing smirk as his uncle watched, taking up space away from the others.
Leaning against the railing of the deck, second drink in hand, Jordon looked around. He had a clear view of everyone, as well as the open window above that led to Reed's bedroom and her bath with its oversized claw foot tub and tiny shower stall. He barely fit in the shower. He hurt himself every time he turned. Jordon hadn't been in the tub yet, but he'd measured it. He and Reed would fit perfectly. The thought of joining her in that tub, even with the death threat, was nearly overwhelming. The thought of his mother listening through the open window, had him gritting his teeth.
Jesse eased his way to Jordon's side without drawing anyone's attention. The kid really was a master of fading into the woodwork. His background explained most of that, although the kid didn't capitalize on his history nor did he try to bury it, he simply or not so simply, lived the life he had now to the best of his ability. There was enough Jordon could learn from this kid to make his stay at Potters Woods interesting, even without one demonic elf.
"Ease up, or the death grip you have on that glass is going to make it shatter."
Jordon didn't take his eyes from his mother, laughing at something Charlie said, as she took the empty seat next to Irma, but his hand unclenched enough to ensure the crystal's safety.
"So, now you've met my mother." It was a lame statement of fact, but at the moment it was the best he could do.
"She's beautiful."
Jordon grunted. All the women in his family were beautiful.
"Seems kind too."
"She is."
"So why are you over here holding up the railing instead of introducing your family around?"
"Don't worry about Lily, she can hold her own in any environment. See," Jordon said, nodding toward the patio table, "everyone loves her already."
Jesse said nothing until Jordon looked at him. If the eyes really are the windows to the soul, Jesse's soul was very old and very wise. It had no business hiding in a teenager. "I wasn't worried about your mom. I'm worried about you."
Simple, honest, kind. Reed's son had a way of cutting through the crap to the truth underneath. Jordon looked at his glass and tossed the contents over the railing. It wasn't helping, and he didn't need the fog, especially with his mother and William invading Reed's magic kingdom.
Jordon threw his arm around Jesse's broad but bony shoulders. "You're a good man, Jesse. Care to stand by my side as we brave the lion and the lady?" Jordon asked, finding a genuine smile.
Neither man saw the curtain move upstairs. Nor did they see Reed smiling with tears glistening her eyes as she watched.
...
"What would you ask for if you could have anything?" William asked Reed.
Reed sipped her wine slowly, enjoying the night and the company. William's question, quietly spoken, brought a sudden stillness to the table. The question seemed innocuous enough to her, but she could feel Jordon's discomfort radiating from him. His hand tightened on her knee briefly before he drew it away. He was withdrawing into himself, yet he seemed riveted, waiting for her response.
Reed was mildly irritated with him for not telling her that his mother and uncle were coming, even though she'd just found out that Jordon didn't know they were coming. The fact that he would have sent them away, had she asked, mollified her ire, but it was easier being irritated with Jordon than it was trusting the way his crooked smile curled her toes. Easier than trusting his ease with Jesse and the rest of her rag-tag family.
"Come now, young lady. You must have thought about what you'd like if resources weren't an issue."
"Oh I've thought about it. I think about it every night before I go to bed. It's not the thinking that's the problem. It's that pesky resource problem I've yet to hurdle."
"So ignore that for this exercise. Just think about what you'd want if you could have anything. Anything at all."
Reed grinned at him. William was fun and light-hearted. The twinkle in his eye and the fact that he looked like an older version of Jordon didn't hurt his like-ability one bit.
"You mean besides two-point-three babies and their stud-muffin father in my bed loving me for the rest of my life?" She asked.
Jordon's mother took her seriously. The poor woman couldn't take more than one martini without believing every 'when-pigs-fly fantasy' that came pouring out of Reed's mouth. "No d
ear, not besides that, in addition to it."
This was fun, in a 'half a bottle of wine with friends' kind of way. Reed sat back and thought for a second.
"I guess if the anything-you-want fairy were visiting, I'd ask for enough cash to make Potters Woods run the way Finn, Charlie and I always dreamed." Reed paused. No one was laughing at her.
William seemed oddly interested. Jordon was silent. He could have been asleep for all the emotion he was showing, except he kept blinking, so Reed knew he was awake. She ignored him and continued.
"We'd like this to be a type of 'community wellness retreat'. Sort of like assisted living for elderly and disabled without the stigma. Charlie wants a theater where he can organize poetry readings, music, and small theater productions. He'd like to get the high school to perform their plays here. Right now Irma is our only guest, but," Reed shrugged and took another sip of her wine, "we're working on it."
"Finn wants an art studio where guest artists can visit. Painters, sculptors, quilters, basket-makers, wood-workers, jewelry artists, you know," Reed waved a hand in the air exuberantly warming to her subject, "the whole nine yards."
"What would you want?" William asked. "Where's your role in all this?"
"Jesse and I would take care of the body and spirit. We'd have staff trained in traditional medicine as well as alternative and preventive care to see to the residents needs of course, but Jesse and I would organize strength and movement classes."
Reed paused to smile at her son and took another sip of her wine. "We'd have a good size dojo where we could teach self-defense classes, tai chi and yoga, meditation, and some lighter stretching for those who have restricted movement. We'd have a physical therapy room with a separate massage area where music and a rock garden fountain help residents relax." Reed smiled. "And, as queen of this realm, I'd make weekly massages mandatory for residents and staff. Pedicures too."
Jesse cleared his throat loudly inclining his head toward the meadow. She'd forgotten his favorite part. "We'd also have a pool. No, make that two pools. One for therapy and one for fun. And a state of the art kitchen of course, where only organic local produce and the occasional chocolate cake would be served."