Unexpected Superhero (Adventures of Lewis and Clarke Book 1)

by Kitty Bucholtz

  Joe stuck his head in the kitchen door. “Honey, will you hand me a garbage bag? I don’t want to track snow all over the floor.”

  “You are a wise, wise man,” Tori said, handing him a bag in the doorway, and kissing his cold cheek.

  He grabbed her around the waist and kissed her soundly on the lips. “I know. That’s why you love me.” He copped a feel, then went back outside.

  Tori giggled and started her home version of Egg McMuffins while she pondered the craziness that permeated her life. Lexie and Hayley agreed that Tori needed to protect her identity if she was going to find herself in the “saving people” business. Hayley wanted to draw up some costume ideas. Tori tried to convince her that she didn’t know yet when she’d be out doing whatever it was she was supposed to do. But Hayley said she wanted to be ready when Tori decided to commit full-time. It was easier not to argue.

  Tori flipped the eggs. Lexie had calmed down and seemed less against the idea of Tori as a superhero – so long as she promised to tell Joe by the end of the weekend. Hayley seconded that idea. Tori was nervous. The conversation with Joe might go smoothly and it might not, but it wasn’t going to break up their marriage, was it? Maybe this was one of those things, she thought philosophically, that you just have to get through and deal with. Part of the “for better or for worse.” Only they wouldn’t be able to deal with it if she didn’t tell him.

  Tori called Joe in and they ate at the kitchen counter to keep the paper tablecloths on the various tables clean. Lexie, Ben, and Hayley came over around ten to help, but Tori and Joe pretty much had everything done. The girls fiddled in the kitchen while Joe chased Ben around the house. Both sets of parents arrived about eleven, and by noon the house was bursting with friends, siblings, aunts, uncles, nieces, and nephews.

  Tori looked over the crowd as she refilled the punch bowl. The hard work was worth it. She loved having Joe’s big, boisterous family around. They were like the Borg on Star Trek in some ways. They were going to pull you in and love you, period. Resistance was futile. Even Tori’s family was becoming part of the Clarke clan. Her mom, Dixie, had tried to resist when she first met Owen and Hannah, Joe’s parents. But Tori saw her sitting on the couch now – pumps and pearls on a wintery Saturday – reading to three-year-old Lily as if the little girl were her own granddaughter.

  “About ready for me to say grace?” Owen appeared at Tori’s shoulder. “The meat’s ready.” Joe and his dad had insisted on cooking another turkey on the grill outside, despite the snow.

  “Yeah, I think so.” She smiled up at him. If she’d made a list of everything she could hope for in a father-in-law, the end result still couldn’t be better than Owen. Today, more than ever, she needed to count her blessings. If she could count that high. “I’ll try to round up people from the front and herd them in here.”

  After Owen prayed and people were lining up to serve themselves, Dixie came over and stood near Tori. “I hear you’ve had some excitement in your life, young lady.”

  Uh-oh. Forgot to tell her about the robbery. How’d she find out? Good thing she hadn’t heard about the murder. Yet.

  Tori smiled and shrugged. Act nonchalant, make it sound less scary than it was. “It was interesting, I’ll say that. One minute you’re buying a drink, the next the police are asking you what happened and you don’t even know what to tell them – it all happened so fast.”

  Ooo, good! Got through it without even lying. Nice wording. Where’s Dad to save me ’cause I know it’s not over.

  “Uh-huh.” Dixie sounded like a lawyer cross-examining a witness. “And it was such a non-event that Joe told his mother about it, but you didn’t think to tell yours?”

  “Mom, I wasn’t purposely hiding it from you” –liar!– “but there’s been a lot going on with work and stuff” –emphasis on stuff– “and the last dozen times we’ve talked, it’s been about the party.” She shrugged. “Are you hungry?”

  Dixie gave Tori an exasperated look. “I’m fifty-three years old, which makes me old enough to know when my daughter isn’t telling me everything, and young enough to be offended if she thinks I’m going to have a heart attack every time something bad happens.”

  Tori sighed and looked contrite. “I don’t think you’re going to have a heart attack. I just…sometimes I just want to deal with things my own way. I don’t always want my mother trying to make everything better.”

  Dixie put her hand on Tori’s shoulder and gave her a rueful smile. “That’s a mother’s job, dear, and the only reason I’m forgiving you so easily is that you don’t know that yet. When you have children, we’ll talk.”

  “There’s my two girls,” broke in Danny. He gave Tori a big squeeze. “I have to get in my overdue hugs today. Don’t you let me leave before I’m done.”

  Tori grinned. “Oh, Dad, you’re so silly,” she said, but she squeezed him back. In some ways, he still acted like she was a little girl. On the other hand, he seemed to understand what she needed and wanted a minute – or ten – before Mom did.

  “I was just telling her that I heard about the robbery from Hannah,” Dixie said. “It seems like a good daughter wouldn’t let me hear such a thing through the grapevine.”

  Danny squeezed Dixie’s hand. “You’re only complaining because you’ve raised such a good daughter, she doesn’t give you much room for complaints. Now let’s eat.”

  Tori sighed in relief. She could always count on Dad. A moment later, with Dixie engaged in a conversation with Aunt Trudy, Danny whispered in her ear.

  “Honestly, I thought I might have a heart attack when I heard. Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Don’t say that,” Tori said, swatting at his arm. “That’s why I don’t want to tell you guys anything. I’m fine. Nothing happened.” She met his gaze for a moment and dropped her eyes. Dad could always read her expressions, even when she tried to have no expression at all. He was worried. And she didn’t know how to reassure him.

  Danny studied her for a moment. “I believe you that you’re okay, but I don’t believe nothing happened.”

  Tori reached for two paper plates and handed him one. “Da-ad.”

  He sighed. “You’re an adult, and you don’t have to tell your parents everything anymore, regardless of what your mother says. But tell me this – will you trust me to treat you like an adult, give you adult advice, if you find you need it?”

  Tori’s eyes filled up for a moment and she blinked back tears. “I love you, Daddy,” she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

  He put his arm around her shoulders. “All right, which one is the barbecued turkey? That sounds like my kind of meat.”

  When Tori refilled the potato chip bowls an hour later, Owen came over and took the bag, filling the bowls himself. “Nice party, new daughter of mine,” he said. “Let me help you with that.”

  “Thanks,” Tori said with a smile. “Did you get enough to eat?”

  “Oohhh,” he patted his stomach. “Too much. And I’m sure I’m not done for the day.”

  They both laughed. Tori had liked Joe’s dad from the moment she met him. He was solid, hard to fluster, seemed to have an answer for everything – and told you if he didn’t. Good qualities in a pastor and a father-in-law.

  A pastor. Maybe she could confide in him, ask him for advice. But she had no idea what his position was on whether or not superheroes were real or fakers. Maybe she could just casually bring it up.

  But if he turned out to have a negative view of them, like her mother, what was to stop him from telling Joe? No, maybe she could talk to him about it after she told Joe. Owen might be able to shed some light on how she should proceed.

  “Hannah and I were worried about you when Joe told us about the robbery.”

  Tori groaned. “How could he have told so many people? I don’t think I’ve told anyone besides him and Lexie and Hayley.”

  Owen ate a potato chip and looked at her. “Seems like the kind of story a person would tell. Very exci
ting.”

  Tori looked into the bowl and ate a potato chip, too. Owen had a look like her dad’s, like he could see all of her secrets. “Well, not everything’s as it seems.” She forced a laugh.

  Owen made an understanding sound. He reached for another chip.

  Tori knew he was waiting for her to break and spill. The longer he waited, the more she wanted to. How much better she would feel if she could get some advice, an answer to the question why. Surely a pastor would have an idea.

  “I’m a good listener,” he said.

  She looked up at him. She was tall for a woman, but she liked being around the Clarke men – they towered over her. “As a pastor or a father-in-law?”

  “Both.” He winked and ate another chip.

  “Hmm, I like the pastor part better, that whole confidentiality thing.” She watched him out of the corner of her eye, gauging his reaction.

  He grunted again. “Something Joe doesn’t know that you don’t want him to know? Take it from a man who’s been married for nearly forty years. It’s better to get things out in the open. I’ve been telling Joe that since he met you.”

  Tori’s head snapped to look Owen in the eye. “Really?” Did Joe have a secret, too? What could it be?

  Owen shrugged his shoulders and started to move away.

  “Owen.” Tori waited for him to come closer and lowered her voice. “What if you want to tell someone something but…you’re afraid of the consequences?”

  “The bigger the problem, the bigger the prayer,” he said. “Pray your heart out and let God take care of it. He’s good at his job.” He smiled at her and tapped the tip of her nose. “You should enjoy the party. Everyone knows where the kitchen is, they can find the food by themselves.”

  Tori smiled. Only a man would say that. She finished refilling everything, then relaxed as only a hostess can – working her way through the house, making sure everyone was happy.

  She’d been hiding her whole life. She’d just have to continue a little longer.

  JOE sat on the living room floor, his three-year-old niece Rose in his lap, an Xbox controller in his hands. Beside him sat his nine-year-old nephew Bruce with the other controller.

  “Oohhh!” Joe’s voice was echoed with a chorus from the rest of the mostly male onlookers. “Rose, don’t touch the control,” he said, laughing. But his laughter just egged her on. She continued to press buttons while he tried to beat Bruce around the game’s auto-racing track.

  Joe wasn’t used to losing to his nephew. “Hey, now, I’ve got a handicap.”

  Bruce laughed. “So not my problem, dude.”

  Joe’s car crashed against the wall, breaking into a thousand bits. Bruce raised both arms in the air. “Yeah!”

  “My turn, my turn!” yelled his nephew Chris.

  Joe gave up his controller and pretended to eat Rose’s fingers. “You made me lose!” he said as she shrieked with laughter. “Now what am I going to do with you, huh?”

  “In the air! In the air!” Rose shrieked.

  Joe stood and tossed her into the air, almost to the ceiling. After a couple times, the rest of the little ones were clamoring to be tossed.

  “Look, guys, there’s Uncle Bull. I bet he’ll play toss the meathead with us.”

  Bull grinned and set down his pop can. “Make sure Tori and her folks stay in the kitchen, will you?” he said to Joe’s sister Gwen. Bull charged the pack of kids who screamed with delight. “Who’s a scaredy-cat?” he asked. He rolled around on the ground with them for a moment, then got up with half a dozen kids hanging on.

  Joe did the same. Within a few minutes, screams of “Grandpa! Grandpa!” brought Owen into the game. Joe wasn’t sure who liked this game better – the kids or the three grown men. He suspected it might be a tie.

  After a while, the men had had enough. They leaned up against a wall with fresh cold drinks and watched their family.

  “Happy wedding, son,” said Owen. “Great party.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” Joe said, taking another swallow of Heineken. “Thanks for acting as Meat Master today. Good stuff.” One of his dad’s thousand and one talents.

  “So, gotten around to telling your wife your secret identity yet?”

  Joe choked on his beer. “Dad!” He looked around for Tori. Not here, good. Then he looked at the beer in his dad’s hand. “How many of those have you had?” His dad had a reputation for being a great confidante. But in the last few weeks, Joe had begun to worry that Owen would tell Tori himself if he thought Joe tarried too long.

  “Maybe not enough,” Owen said. “If I tell all my secrets and blame it on the drink, it might clear up some problems around here.”

  Bull started laughing. “Want me to get you another one?”

  Owen grinned at him.

  Joe took another swallow. “You can’t expect me to believe you tell Mom everything.”

  “She knew my secret identity before we started dating,” Owen said pointedly.

  “Hayley knew my secret identity before we started dating,” agreed Bull. He lowered his voice. “Sort of dating.”

  Joe rolled his eyes. “Well, if you want to get picky, Tori knew about my secret identity before we were dating, too.” They’d met when Joe – that is, Superhero X – rescued her from a mugger on Halloween night. It was love at first sight for both of them.

  But when Joe casually walked down the street six or eight times until he saw her outside and introduced himself, Tori thought she was meeting him for the first time. When he dropped superheroes into the conversation, she said her family thought superheroes were nut-jobs. He hadn’t figured out how to bring it up again in a more positive light.

  “So you’re not having any problems? No identity crisis?” Owen prodded his son. “You said you were going to tell her. That’s the only reason I agreed to marry you two without her knowing. Then you didn’t tell her and–”

  “I know, I know!”

  Bull interrupted. “Hayley says this is all going to backfire on us, but she won’t tell me what she means. I think something’s happening.”

  Owen directed an enigmatic look toward Bull.

  “I’m going to tell her,” Joe said with more heat than he meant. He took a deep breath. “It’s a tricky situation, what with her family hating superheroes and all.” He heard the resentment in his voice and hoped his dad didn’t.

  Owen continued in a lighter tone. “I’m just saying, if you’d been upfront with your wife when you promised me you would – before the wedding day – we wouldn’t be hiding in the living room in order to play with the kids.”

  Yeah, it would be hard to explain how they could carry around five or six kids without getting tired. Joe punched his dad lightly in the shoulder. “Lightly” for the three of them. The punch would bring a llama to its knees. “I betcha Mom doesn’t tell you everything either.”

  Owen paused, beer bottle halfway to his lips. Then he said, “No more or less than your wife tells you, I’m sure.”

  Joe turned to watch his dad take another swallow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Owen got up and brushed off his pants. “Oh, I think I’ve meddled enough for one day. Why don’t we get everyone together and open some presents?” he said over his shoulder.

  Joe shook his head at Bull. “My dad really shouldn’t drink. He can’t hold his beer.”

  Bull watched Owen leave. “So Tori’s keeping secrets from you, too?”

  Joe frowned and turned to watch his dad again. “She doesn’t have any secrets.” He thought about it for a moment. “At least, not any big ones.”

  Bull elbowed him. “You gotta tell her. Just say it. Like pulling off a Band-Aid.”

  Bull had picked up that phrase from Hayley. Joe leaned his head back against the wall. “Yeah, well, Band-Aids hurt like hell when they pull off the hair, too.”

  “Whiner.”

  “Hey, guys.” Joe’s brother, Carl, plopped down next to him. “Congratulations, little brother,” he said, socki
ng Joe in the arm. An inch taller and four years older, Carl loved to play up the “big brother” role, even at thirty-three. The fact that he didn’t have any powers and Joe could beat him up any time he wanted didn’t seem to matter to him.

  “Thanks, Carl.” Joe clinked his beer bottle against Carl’s. “How’s life?”

  “Good. Real good.” They looked around Joe’s house at all the people – from new babies to grandparents approaching eighty, almost the whole family was here. “Mostly good. There’s something I could use your help with.”

  “Uh-oh,” Joe said. “I think I’m donating a kidney that day.”

  Carl hesitated. He started to speak, then took a drink instead.

  When he didn’t continue, Joe prodded him. “What?” Carl had a thing about being the oldest. He thought it meant you never asked for help from anyone younger than you. The fact that he was asking, or trying, made Joe want to say yes. He hoped it wouldn’t be something he really didn’t want to do. Like donate a kidney.

  “Katie’s been having some…some issues.” Carl picked at the paper label on his beer bottle.

  “Everyone in the living room!” Owen called into the kitchen. “Come on, time for gifts!”

  Carl started to stand. Joe put his hand on his arm, warning bells echoing in his head. “Hang on. What kind of ‘issues’?”

  Carl shrugged. His wife Brenda walked in with their youngest son, and Carl stood. Clasping Joe’s forearm, he gave him a hand up. Carl didn’t let go, speaking low and urgently so that only Joe and Bull could hear. “Joe, you’re the only person I know to ask. Brenda is cool with Dad and you and everything, but…she never thought it might happen to us. We’re feeling a little…unequipped.” He clapped Joe on the back, making it look like he was giving his brother a congratulatory hug.

  Understanding dawned. “Oh,” Joe said. He looked at Bull. “About the right age.”

  Bull nodded. “Eighth grade. That’s when it happened to me. I’ll help, too, if I can,” he said to Carl. “And I’m sure Hayley will be happy to talk to her any time.”