Adirondack Audacity

by L. R. Smolarek

  Oh, God……Josh. What must he be thinking….here she goes….again. First, the skinny dipping incident with the cops followed by shoving him in the river and now a S.W.A.T. team with the entire county on alert. Yeah, this kid’s going to love me. Who wants a resident wacko for a mother? I nod, locking eyes with Pulanski, not feeling so good again.

  “I think his name is Josh,” he screws his face up in thought. “You know, he looks an awful lot like your Rambo friend.”

  I close my eyes and nod, attempting to stem the fresh wave of nausea washing over me. I clutch McNeil’s shirt to anchor my spinning head. Josh and Vic…together that had to be some reunion, like looking in the mirror. Is Josh suspicious?

  The sound of pounding feet, an explosion of cracking branches, accompanied by heavy breathing and someone frantically calling my name……Vic has arrived.

  “Elle!” He cries, running towards me, his face taut with concern. “Ella, Ella,mia, are you hurt? Is she all right?” His eyes search the police officers faces, fear and worry radiate from him.

  Officer Pulanski holds out a hand, slowing him down, “Easy sir, she’s going to be fine. But we have to take care; she has a few broken bones.”

  “Are you sure? Elle, look at me, baby.” His eyes beseech me, “How can she be all right, look at her?”

  “Elle…” his voice cracks with emotion. “What did he do to you?” He holds out a trembling hand to caress my cheek, but pulls back at the last second; afraid his touch will cause me pain.

  “Vic,” I thought I screamed his name, but the sound emerging from my lips, no more than a croak.

  “Sweet Jesus, Ellen.” He’s pissed, he’s calling me Ellen again, that means he’s mad. A single tear cascades down his cheek, the muscles in his jaw twitch. “This is it, Elle, I can’t take it anymore. Do you hear me! When I get you down this mountain, I’m grabbing the first minister, justice of the peace, or whatever the hell I can find.… and once the doctors give you clearance…. You are fucking going to marry me! Ike and I will be your bodyguards 24/7. I’ve almost lost you three times. I can’t take this anymore….No more bullshit about where we are going to live, old lives, new lives, children, and who the hell gives a flying shit!!…..You’re killing me. I’m never letting you out of my sight. Ever! Ever! Again! Do you hear me?!

  He looks exhausted, the worry of the past few days erupting in a volley of emotion. I long to touch his face, and ease the lines of tension bracketing his lips; smooth away the deep crevice of worry between his black brows.

  “Dad, was that a proposal?” Vic glances over his shoulder at the sight of Hanna, Lani, Jason and Trey. Faces scratched, hair flying in all directions, clothes ripped and marred by dirt streaks. Boy, are they going to make me pay for this…..Lani and Hanna hate wilderness experiences, their idea of the outdoors is having their nails done in the suburbs.

  “Mom!” Lani sobs, falling to her knees, eyes blurred and red from exhaustion and crying. “Mom, tell us you’re all right. Mom, please say something?” I try lifting my crippled hand, and nod weakly in her direction.

  “It’s over, sweetie.” I whisper. “I’ll be fine.” Lani breaks down into gasping sobs of relief. Trey kneels beside her, his hands kneading the curve of her shoulder, his face a tight wall of concern… his eyes never leave my face.

  “Mom?” He utters in a hoarse whisper. A broken smile slides across my lips, our eyes lock and I nod.

  “Dad,” Hanna crouches down, placing an arm over her father’s shoulders. “I think you need to rephrase that proposal. You’re fucking going to marry me, boy, what a declaration of love. I can only hope my future husband is such a romantic. Not!” She laughs, kneeling down to give her father an affectionate hug. “Thank God, we found you, Ellen. I can’t imagine living with this lunatic for the rest of my life if he lost you. He was like, totally insane.” Jason nods vigorously in agreement.

  “I was not!” Vic insists defensively glaring at the group. Everyone, including the S.W.A.T. team; roll their eyes, and snort with laughter.

  “Yeah….right.” Lani says with a knowing wink at Officer McNeil. “So about that proposal?”

  “Of course, I mean it. Damn it to hell!” He shakes his head in exasperation. “I’ve been trying to marry her for the last six months. And since she’s come up here, she’s done nothing but get herself into trouble.” Holy moly, don’t have a cow.

  And the thought of spending the rest of my life sheltered in his arms, always and forever…my dull mind wraps around one word, bliss.

  “Can I hold her?” Vic opens his arms, reaching for me. Officer McNeil slowly releases his hold, transferring me to Vic who locks me in his strong arms. I press my cheek to his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Over the throbbing in my head, I hear him whisper my name, over and over, like a prayer.

  “Are you really okay?” He brushes his thumb across the corner of my lips. “I was so afraid he would kill you.”

  “Yeah, I had the same thought.” I say, snuggling against his chest, drawing comfort from his body.

  “Tell me, what can I do?” He slides his hand along the length of my body, the heat of his palm radiating through the blanket.

  “Hold me, Vic.” I whisper. “Hold me, and never let me go.”

  “Ella, Ella, my bella,” He murmurs, burrowing his head into my dirty tangled hair. He pushes back a stray lock, gently tucking it behind my ear.

  He strokes my face with the back of his fingers, wishing to take away the fear and terror. “My mia bella…..marry me, tomorrow.”

  “No.”

  I smile as his expression pulls into a frown, confusion clouds his face, he looks askance to the children, as if he heard wrong.

  “Elle?” he questions.

  I press a fingertip to his lips, a mischievous light twinkles in my eyes. I love him. I will always love him. “Soon,” I say, “I want to marry you, but at the lake house with our friends and family surrounding us.” He smiles, his lips curve beneath my fingertips. My voice raspy from disuse continues, “I want champagne, fireworks and I want to wear white. Just because. And I want our son there.”

  A tall figure casts a shadow as he crouches down beside us. “I would be honored to be included, and quite frankly,” he chuckles, “It’s about time the two of you got married and made me legitimate.” Josh…..

  Josh more than suspects, he knows.

  “Like I was saying,” Josh continues, “It’s about time the two of you made me legal. I’ve always known I was adopted and Claire picked up immediately on the resemblance between Ellen and my son, Ansel. And when I saw Mr. Diago yesterday, up close and in person, the physical resemblance along with certain mannerisms, that we both possess, I thought I was looking in the mirror. So?…do you have something to tell me?”

  Vic and I start babbling at once. Yes, he is our son. We didn’t want to give him up for adoption; he was taken from us at birth. And now that we found him, we thought if he got to know us first, it would be less of a shock when he learned we were his biological parents.

  “Please don’t think we’re crazy stalker people.” I beg him.

  “Are you kidding? I’m touched by the care and concern you have for my feelings. And if the last few weeks prove to be any indication of the future, between the two of you, there’ll never be a dull moment. Throw in a few new brothers and sisters…I think life is going to get much more interesting.”

  My voice tremulous, “Can I ask just one thing?”

  Josh smiles; emotion softens his face, “Anything.”

  I open my arms and ask, “May I hug you?” Broken finger and bruised ribs forgotten, I engulf my son and hold him as I’ve so desperately longed to do….and feel the very being of him seep into my soul, his strength and goodness beneath my hands, and know I’ve found my son….at last.

  Chapter 47 Home, Sweet Home My nose twitches like a rabbit. Something smells good, a smell so divine, it pulls me from deep slumber. Sprawled on my stomach, head stuffed into the pillow with
just my nose peeking out, I smell it. And it’s coming closer, pushing aside tousled hair I see a mug thrust into my face. With a happy sigh, I roll over to a cup of coffee, followed by a plate with a cinnamon bun fresh from the oven. Pulling myself into a setting position, I see Vic standing next to the bed, dressed only in a pair of low slung jeans hugging his hips in all the right places, and low enough to expose those six-pack abs. And I find myself humming along with Julie Andrews……girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes, snowflakes that fall on my nose and eyelashes, silver white winters that melt into spring…….these are a few of my favorite things and standing before me ……..is one of my favorite things. If I died now…….. it would be a happy death.

  “Wow !” I smile at him in appreciation.

  “You’re welcome, now get up.”

  “Up? I’m happy here. And I’d be a lot happier if you

  came and joined me.” I lift the blanket in invitation. “Nope. I’ve got plans.” He says and starts rummaging

  through the dresser tossing out a pair of jeans, t-shirt and

  sweater, followed by a bra and panties.

  “What plans? Hey!” I protest as he takes the mug and

  plate putting them out of my reach. “What are you

  doing?”

  “Getting you out of bed.” He replies, pulling a shirt over his head. I feign a pout. There’s nothing like the sight of a taut abdomen and well defined biceps with your

  morning coffee. Who needs doughnuts?

  “I’ll be down on the dock and I expect you in twenty

  minutes.”

  “What…..why?”

  “And don’t be late.” Bossy, bossy, bossy. I grumble as

  my feet hit the cold hardwood floor. You’d think after all

  I’ve been through he would be more considerate……just

  because he’s hovered over me for the last ten days after

  shooing our children home, he’d continue taking care of

  me ….indefinitely. I liked having my own personal stud

  butler. Complete with dark hair, gorgeous eyes, and a very

  fine butt. After all, it’s not every day a person is kidnapped

  by a maniac and needs to be rescued. That deserves extra

  attention… I wasn’t kidding about the invitation between

  the sheets. Sighing, I pick up my clothes from the foot of

  the bed, noticing he didn’t choose very sexy underwear.

  Granny panties! What’s wrong with him, he always notices

  my underwear.

  …

  Hopping down the lawn while trying to put on

  sandals takes all my concentration until I stop, gawking at

  the sight in front of me. An old wooden canoe riding

  high in the water is tied to the dock. Its varnished sides

  gleam in the morning sun, and a bouquet of white daisies

  rests against the gunnels. A wicker picnic basket sits in

  the bow while a caned-back seat cushioned with a life

  jacket takes up the middle of the boat.

  “Wow!” I exclaim halting, one foot in my hand,

  amazed at the sight before me. “What’s this? Wow and

  double wow!

  He’s stan ding on the dock holding out his hand, “I thought we’d take a picnic lunch and head down the lake.”

  “But the canoe, it’s beautiful. Did you do this?” “No, woodland fairies.” Vic says, his mouth twitching. “I keep a crew on standby.”

  “Really? I thought Ike was visiting his sister in Montreal?”

  Vic snorts, “Ike’s been called a lot of things, but I want to be there when someone calls him a fairy.”

  He beckons me toward the boat. “Hop in.” He nods at the canoe. “Sit in the middle seat.”

  “I can’t paddle from there.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “What if I feel like paddling,” I whine. “I’m well enough to paddle a canoe. Oh, come on! It’s not like I’m an invalid or something.”

  “No.”

  “Just a little bit.”

  “You have two broken fingers and a bruised rib.”

  “So?”

  “You need to take it easy for a while.” He shakes his head. “Besides, this way I can keep an eye on you, make sure you stay out of trouble.”

  “But I feel like moving, I’m tired of being cooped up in the house. I can only read and do puzzles for so long. I need to move before I go crazy…….and I think I’m ready for other activities.” I waggle my eyebrows at him in a suggestive manner.

  Vic rests his head against the paddle, muttering in rapid fire Spanish, shoulders heaving, head shaking back and forth in agitation. A smart woman would know better than to argue with him once he gets going, but then again, no one has ever accused me of being smart.

  “Hey, I don’t understand much Spanish, but I think you said I’m driving you crazy.”

  “I did.” He lifts his head from its perch atop the paddle and peers at me, his eyebrows drawing together. “Ella, Ella, mia. I love you but I can’t keep up this pace, I’ll be an old man before my time.”

  “You keep doing that with your eyebrows, and you’re going to need Botox.”

  “Buttercup, there won’t be enough Botox in all of Hollywood to put me together if your antics continue.”

  “Very funny.” I say, lifting my chin. “It wasn’t my fault.”

  “It never is, darling, it never is.”

  …

  Large puffy clouds scuttle across the sky. A light breeze kicks up small waves, riffling the water’s mirror- like surface, and the sun plays peek-a-boo with the clouds. My fingers dangle in the water as I watch Vic paddle down the lake……. being lazy does have its advantages…...being able to enjoy the scenery…..mainly him……. and realize the enormity of my good fortune. Kidnapped by a mentally deranged man, I came away with only minor injuries and a brief hospital stay. Due to the quick thinking of Juls, Vic’s assistant, we escaped the media spotlight and after a short investigation by the police, the hospital released me… home to the care of my family, who literally tried killing me with kindness …seriously…...the lodge house turned into a three ring circus of well-meaning helpers, tripping over each other to please me, to the point I didn’t have a moment of peace.

  Vic tried organizing a routine, but chaos ensued, everyone thought they knew what I needed. Finally, Ike fled to his hide-out in the boathouse and placed an emergency call to Bridget. Within 24 hours she was at our doorstep…. she flew in…….rumor has it she came by broom. Standing at the entrance to the kitchen, she dared anyone to cross her threshold. She had that Wicked Witch of the West look on her face, the one that says, I have flying monkeys and I’m not afraid to use them. And we believed her. Soon she had a schedule of family visits, meals and like a well-adjusted happy family, we played cards in the evening, shared books, watched movies, and popped popcorn over the fire. She even coerced Izzy and Ansel….the children loved her……..they thought she was Mary Poppins with attitude. I’m sure the kitchen table laden with crayons, markers, stickers and just about any kind of craft supply desired….along with milk and warm cookies from the oven didn’t hurt.

  And through the grace of God, Josh, Claire, and the children became a part of our family. At first it was awkward, but sometimes blood is thicker than water. Ancestry and personality quirks passed down through generations prove to be the glue holding the fragile web we know as family together.

  Although Josh’s adoption parents never hid the fact he was adopted, he was shocked to learn the

  circumstances behind his placement. He always wondered if he had another family somewhere, and was delighted to meet his new siblings.

  And as much as Vic and I suffered when we lost him; I could not have chosen better people to raise my son. The Westlands loved him unconditionally and were very supportive of him reuniting with us…as long as they got Christmas, seriously, generosity only goes
so far.

  So under Bridget’s direction, for seven loud, amazing days we hosted all four of our children and grandchildren. Everyone had a grand time. Hanna claimed she had the best time of her life.…even if Cyrus ate her cell phone…..the cellular reception in the mountains isn’t very good anyway……then Ansel spilled red wine on a blouse Lani designed as part of her fashion week collection…….personally it looked like a tattered bed sheet, best put out of its misery before it went to the runway at Fashion week. Ike taught Josh how to ride a motor cycle……..a Harley Davidson….every mother’s dream.

  Jason and Josh enjoy reading mystery novels, Claire and Lani are alma maters of the same college, Vic and Trey share a passion for football and Claire taught me how to knit. Sort of…..is it knitting or knotting. And it is freaky scary how much Josh and Vic are alike…..freaky scary….who ever said blood is thicker than water was right. So all and all, we’re on the way to being a delightfully, quirky dysfunctional mixed family. …

  Vic pulls me out of my happy memories of the past week by pointing out a loon diving for a fish. I notice the canoe is drifting into a small cove, the boggy shoreline ringed with shoots of pickerel mixed in with yellow and purple water iris. Pond lilies poke through the water’s surface, buds held in tight floating orbs, ready to burst open as the lengthening days bathe them in sunlight. Turtles perch on a fallen log while fish float near the water’s surface, basking in the morning sun. Taking two sweeping strokes through the tea-colored water, he glides the canoe into the center of the cove and we drift, lulled by the warmth of the sun and serenaded by the call of a hermit thrush off in the distance.