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Celia's Puppies

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by Claudia Hall Christian




  Celia’s Puppies

  Denver Cereal, Volume Two

  Claudia Hall Christian

  Copyright © Claudia Hall Christian

  Cook Street Publishing

  Denver, CO

  Also by

  Claudia Hall Christian

  THE DENVER CEREAL SERIAL FICTION:

  The Denver Cereal

  Celia’s Puppies

  Cascade

  ALEX THE FEY THRILLER SERIES:

  The Fey

  Learning to Stand

  Who I Am

  Originally published at DenverCereal.com :

  December 2008 – June 2009;

  copyright © Claudia Hall Christian

  Licensed under the Creative Commons License:

  Attribution–NonCommercial–Share Alike 3.0

  Smashwords Edition Licensing Notes:

  Thank you for downloading this free ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to mashwords.com to discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

  ISBN (13 digits) : 978-0-9822746-7-5

  (10 digits) : 0-9822746-5-3

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in Publication Data available upon request

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE:

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  First edition © November, 2009

  Cook Street Publishing

  PO Box 18217

  Denver, CO 80218

  To Betty, Peggy, Chelly and Heather,

  for your amazing support.

  I’m blessed by your friendship and love.

  Just Do It!

  Acknowledgments

  Denver Cereal is a labor of love. Special thanks go to everyone working behind the scenes – the Silent Partner for dedicated content edits, creative input and pep talks in the middle of the night; Angeles Winesett for extraordinary copyedit assistance; Anthony Ream for his fabulous cover and wonderful logo design; Kenny Hosack of Craig Hospital for his positive attitude and depth of information about spine injury and rehabilitation; and the Practical Pagan for helping to inspire the wedding ceremony.

  I want to thank everyone who reads daily, weekly and in book form.

  Thank you for reading and caring.

  What’s happened so far?

  Denver Cereal begins when Jillian Roper prepared to attend her ex-husband Trevor’s engagement party in thigh-high leather boots. At the party, she is rescued from her own panic and insecurity by Jacob Marlowe. With the help of her friends, Jill manages to follow through with her plan and stuns the guest of honor.

  A few weeks later, Jill, Jacob, and Katy, Jill’s three-year old daughter, go on a non-date at the Denver Zoo. Katy is stung by a bee and goes into anaphylactic shock. Prepared by the psychic Delphie, Jacob manages to save Katy’s life and get her to the hospital in time. He shocks Jill by paying the hospital bill.

  While Katy is in the hospital, Jacob’s actress sister, Valerie Lipson, leaves her wealthy producer fiancé to make the trip home to Denver. Valerie’s estranged husband is Jill’s older brother Mike Roper. Valerie and Mike decide to give their marriage another try at the same time Jill and Jacob get together as a couple.

  When Jill is fired from her day job for taking a sick day to care for Katy, Jacob rescues her again. After crying in his car, she realizes she left Katy’s medication inside the office. Jacob goes into the office to get the medication and to confront Jill’s boss. In return, Jill’s boss attacks Jacob with a 20-pound pipe wrench. Jacob is critically injured

  Between life and death, Jacob meets his deceased mother, Celia. While Jacob struggles to survive, Jill is nearly raped by her ex-husband Trevor. Valerie’s publicist sets up an interview for Valerie and Mike with Oprah. And Katy asks Jacob if he will be her “Daddy.”

  While conferring with Jacob in his hospital room, Aden Norsen, Jacob’s second in command, reconnects with Jill’s best friend, Sandy. Sandy and Aden work through their issues and to begin a relationship.

  In the meantime, Mike panics at the idea he might not be good enough for Valerie’s Hollywood lifestyle. In asking friends for help, he snares a lucrative modeling contract for Valerie and Jill. He is dressed, waxed and polished in style. The US Army gives Mike some assistance with his interview.

  Denver Cereal winds down when Jacob finally returns from the hospital into Jill’s arms.

  Celia’s Puppies begins the next day.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Going to be a good day

  Monday morning — 4:00 A..M.

  Sitting on her meditation bolster, Delphie let out a breath and bowed forward. A half hour of prayer would have to do this morning. Not for the first time, Delphie longed for the days when she had the entire Castle to herself. But then, Sam wouldn’t be asleep in her bed and the kids wouldn’t be home. Things were better now.

  She just needed more time to herself.

  With care, she put out the candles but left her incense burning for Quan Yin. Smoothing her wild bottle-red hair in the mirror, she realized she was lying to herself.

  She didn’t need more time to herself.

  She missed Celia.

  Celia would love how things turned out. She would have teased Mike about his confusion over Valerie. Celia would spoil Katy to no end. Delphie could just see Celia in a corner of the dining room laughing with Jill and Sandy. Celia would revel in Jacob stepping into himself.

  And Aden! Who would believe that drunken criminal Aden Norsen would turn into gentleman Aden?

  Of course, Celia always believed in Aden, Blane, Jill and the others too. Delphie called them Celia’s puppies. The people Celia collected like lost puppies. The ones whose lives really changed with loving support.

  Delphie never had that kind of faith in people. Celia was special. She could see into people’s souls and see what they could be. Not that she was always right. After all, Tiffanie’s oldest daughter gave only misery in return for the resources and love she was given.

  Moving toward the bed, Delphie sighed. She’d give up Sam to have Celia back. It would be hard because she cared deeply for Sam. But she’d do almost anything to have Celia back.

  Delphie sat down on the bed next to Sam. He opened his eyes and touched her hair.

  “It’s a little after four,” Delphie said. “You should work on getting up.”

  “I’m sorry our chaos has interrupted your meditation,” Sam said. “You have clients today, don’t you?”

  Delphie gave a slight nod.

  “Sad?” he asked. He sat up to hold her.

  “Missing Celia.”

  Sam and Delphie held each other and cried. In each other’s arms, neither was afraid or ashamed to express the depth of their loss.

  “We need to get moving,” Delphie said after a moment. “The kids are here and...”

  She moved off the bed but Sam caught her hand.

  “Everyone can take care of themselves, Delphie,” Sam said. “I know it’s exciting. It’s exciting for me. But we are all we have now, Delphinium.”

  Delphie sniffed then sat back down. Sam wrapped himself around her. For a moment, she allowed herself to rest in his strength.

  “Why don’t you continue meditating?” Sam whispered. “I can make the coffee.”

  “But...”

  “Your coffee is much better. You’re right,” Sam said. “Your clients take so much from you. I take so much from you. I’d like it if you took care of yourself. For me.”

  He touched her chin and she looked up
at him.

  “We’ve made it to the other side of nine years of garbage. I’d like to spend some years enjoying the peace and you.”

  “Me too,” Delphie said. “And the kids.”

  “And their kids,” Sam said. “Our grandkids and great grandkids.”

  "Your kids. Your grandkids. Your great grandkids."

  "They've always been our kids. Yours, mine and Celia's kids." Sam kissed her cheek. "You must really miss her today."

  Delphie gave another slight nod. She stood so he could get out of bed. He was halfway across the room before he turned.

  “I’m deeply grateful for you, Delphinium. Thank you for the gift of this second life, and your love.”

  Her eyes welled.

  “Go on,” she said. “Delaying the inevitable...”

  “Only creates another mess,” they said one of Celia’s sayings together. Laughing, Sam went into the bathroom.

  Delphie returned to her bay window meditation nook. Relighting the candles, she noticed the paparazzi arriving for another day of stalking Valerie. A picture of Valerie’s husband was worth at least couple hundred thousand dollars to these scavengers. Not that they were going to get one.

  Delphie smiled.

  It was going to be a good day.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Monday morning — 6:30 A.M.

  Outside Chicago, IL

  A small woman began jogging down the driveway of her estate home with a few of her dogs. No matter what her hectic schedule demanded, she loved the early morning quiet with her dogs. They settled into a steady jog down the driveway. Turning onto the quiet lane in front of her home, she heard a sound behind her.

  Boots on the pavement.

  Like something out of a movie, she could hear at least five people running in boots behind her. And they were fast.

  Turning to look, she saw a group of short haired men wearing green t-shirts, digital fatigue pants and tactical boots running toward her. A man ran in the very middle of this pack.

  As they approached, her dog pack skittered uncomfortably. These men were twice her size, fit and muscular. Her mind shifted to the horror stories her guests had told on her own talk show. Glancing around, she realized how alone, how vulnerable, she was.

  The men caught up with her then slowed their pace to match hers.

  “Would you mind if we take your dogs?” A fresh faced young man asked.

  “I...”

  “The General would like a private conversation,” a second man said. “We won’t harm them. Just take them so that you might talk.”

  Before she could say anything, the young men reached for the leashes. She was about to call her dogs back when she caught sight of the man in the center of the pack. Stunned, she stopped running.

  Standing in the middle of the quiet lane, she gawked at the US Army General.

  “Shall we continue?” the General asked.

  Each young man took a dog. They separated out in to a large circle giving just enough space for a quiet conversation. When the General started running again, she joined his jogging pace.

  “I wanted to have a private word with you about Michael Roper,” the General said. “It’s my understanding that you’ll interview him this week.”

  “Yes, sir,” she replied.

  She cursed herself for not reviewing her schedule before leaving the house. In her mind, she flipped through her interviews and shows planned for this week.

  Who was Michael Roper?

  “He’s going to tell you a story that… well, could win you a Pulitzer Prize.”

  “But it’s not true?”

  “No, ma’am. Michael Roper will tell you a true story and one that needs to be heard, especially at this time. However...”

  The General fell silent. He seemed to be choosing his words very carefully.

  “Sir?”

  “I don’t doubt that you’ll notice a few details in Roper’s story are… fuzzy.”

  “Fuzzy?”

  “Unclear. I’m certain you‘ll notice he’s covering something or possibly diverting your attention. He’s not an experienced liar. We expect you might notice areas of ...”

  “Sir?”

  “Michael Roper is a true hero. He saved the lives of at least seven men and possibly more. He suffered unspeakable things during his service and he has never asked for acclaim or reward. In fact, he says he was just doing his job. His story is absolutely one hundred percent true, even if the details are a little muddy.”

  “You’re asking me to broadcast untruths?” Her voice betrayed her indignation.

  The General stopped running. The group of men and dogs stopped running. A bird’s call broke the sudden silence in the lane. He turned to look at her.

  “No, I am asking you to treat a true hero with the respect he deserves. He’s not a public speaker or even a very good poker player. He’s too straight of a guy. His story is true and deserves to be heard.”

  “And these details?”

  “Are sensitive.”

  “You’re saying he’s been coached. I’ll notice the coaching because he’s such a straight forward guy.”

  The General started running again. They ran in silence while she processed his request.

  “I won’t throw national security at you. However I would not ask if people’s lives were not at stake,” he said. “We can pull the interview. There was a suggestion to disrupt the satellite feed during your transmission of the show. A few well placed individuals, including myself, would like the world to hear Roper’s story.”

  “With the details removed?”

  “With a few details removed.”

  “And the satellite feed? I don’t want to interview some guy and have it not go out.”

  “A few high level people have used their authority to allow the interview with…”

  “A few details removed.” She finished his sentence.

  “Exactly. These people will be with Roper when you do the interview. You might notice them, but probably not.”

  “If I do this, will you come on my show?” she asked. “Talk about the war? The soldiers?”

  “You’ve asked before.”

  “I’ve asked for five years,” she said.

  “Treat Roper with the respect he deserves and I’ll seriously consider it.”

  She nodded.

  “I need to get back to the desert,” the General said. “Do we have an agreement?”

  “Yes, sir,” she said.

  The General gave a low whistle and the soldiers closed the circle. Within moments, she held the leashes of her dogs. Before they were out of earshot she shouted:

  “Sir?”

  The General stopped running and turned in her direction.

  “Who is Michael Roper?” she yelled.

  “He’s married to Valerie Lipson,” he said. Laughing, he added, “Enjoy your Pulitzer.”

  The men picked up the pace. Within moments, she was alone on the quiet lane. She ran for another mile then turned for home. Arriving home, her dog trainer took the dogs to feed and water them. She was about to head upstairs when she saw something slip under her front door.

  Picking it up, she ripped open the manila envelope to find a single sheet of paper. Near the bottom, scrawled in a man’s handwriting, was a note that said: ‘For background on Roper’. The sheet contained ten names, home phone numbers and private email addresses of top level people in government or retired military. There was even a curator at the Denver Art Museum. One name was someone she had begged to interview. More than once.

  Looks like Valerie Lipson's secret husband was more interesting than she thought.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Monday morning — 8:12 A.M.

  “Ouch! Shit, Blane,” Jacob said. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

  Blane was inserting acupuncture needles around Jacob’s sutures. When he wasn’t working as Jacob’s assistant, Blane was a student at the Colorado School of Traditional Chinese Medicine. Three years into a Chi
nese Medical Doctor degree, he had spent the last week researching the right herbs, salves and points to accelerate Jacob’s healing. Not quite fluent in Chinese, yet, Blane was a star pupil.

  “Ya ‘cuz,” Blane said with the mock Hispanic accent he used to drive Jacob crazy. “Dis guy, he said to try dis thing and I figured...”

  “This hurts,” Jacob said.

  “You could just take your pain medication,” Aden said.

  “Fuck you too,” Jacob said to Aden.

  Aden laughed at Jacob. They were sitting in a small office at the Castle. They had spent the morning making sure every site manager had what he or she needed to get the job done today. Lipson Construction was humming like a well oiled engine.

  Except for its President, Jacob Marlowe.

  Although healing, his week old shoulder injury, and multiple surgeries, left him at half his capacity. Blane thought acupuncture might help accelerate his healing. Or at least ease some of the desperate pain.

  “Hi,” Jill said. She poked her head in the door. “Am I interrupting?”

  “Not if you’ve heard a few swear words before,” Aden said. He opened the door for Jill. “I’m going to check on my kids. I’ll be back in a few.”

  “Katy wanted to say ‘good-bye’ before she went to school,” Jill said. She came into the room carrying three year old, Katy, on her hip. Pointing to the hundreds of needles in Jacob’s shoulder and neck, she added, “Oooh, that doesn’t look good.”

  “Mommy? He’s touching the white stuff,” Katy said.

  “The gauze?” Jill asked.

  “Uh huh. Uncle Blane? Do you know what you’re doing?”

  “Good question,” Jacob said.

  “Hi sweetie,” Blane said. He came around the chair to kiss Katy on the cheek. “I’m trying to help your...”

 

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