Playing For Keeps

by Deborah Fletcher Mello

  Each girl shot the other a look, their expressions hopeful. Whispering a quick prayer, they knew they didn’t have anything to lose. With any luck someone stopped in traffic beside them would venture to report what they’d seen. If enough people called, the police might take it seriously. And if the police came, there was nothing that man or their mother could do to stop them from screaming for help like they had never screamed before. Holding hands, the twins knew that all they could do until then was wait for the next opportunity to make another move.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Cleo eased upright in her seat. She glanced out the window to the cars traveling in the same direction. Just outside of Fredericksburg passage had come to a complete standstill, bumper-to-bumper traffic impeding everyone’s travel plans. Sitting in wait, some drivers had begun to cut off their engines, even exiting their vehicles to try to see what was holding them hostage on the highway, the northbound lanes seemingly closed.

  Beside them a woman sat next to her husband, pointing at the message across the window. Cleo saw the two of them talking, the woman gesturing excitedly with her hands. Her eyes widened anxiously as the lady pulled her cell phone to her ear. She tossed a look at Claudia who was staring where she stared. The man with the scar driving them suddenly slammed his fists against the steering wheel in frustration.

  He turned to stare at them and that’s when he saw the red writing against the glass. His rage was palpable as he began to scream, the profanity piercing loudly through the space. He slammed his fists repeatedly then shifted the ignition into park. He turned, grabbing for whichever twin he could get his hands on first. Both began kicking at him, throwing every ounce of energy into causing as much damage as they could muster.

  “What . . . what’s . . . what’s going on?” Shanell muttered, the commotion pulling her from her slumber.

  The man continued to curse, venom spewing past his lips.

  “Run!” Cleo screamed, pushing open the car door.

  Claudia winced, pain shooting through her arm from the man’s grip as he grabbed hold of her. She used her free hand to jam the ink pen in his face, just missing his eye. He shrieked loudly. Cleo pulled at his arm, then bit him, hard, drawing blood, and he screamed again as he took a swing in her direction. Shanell blocked the blow, taking the brunt of it as she threw her body between him and the backseat, trying fervently to scratch out his eyes.

  Cleo pulled her sister by the leg, helping her exit the car and then the two girls began to run through the stopped traffic, screaming for help at the top of their lungs. The man jumped from the car, staggering slightly before he began to run after then. As the girls darted between the parked cars, racing toward the road’s shoulder, curious onlookers began to take pictures and video, multiple cell phones hanging out car windows.

  Five vehicles down the driver of an oversize tractor-trailer sensed something was very wrong. He’d seen the two girls racing past, screaming for assistance, then spied the man giving chase in his side-view mirror. He called for help on his CB radio before jumping from his cab. He wasn’t the only man to suddenly exit his vehicle, wanting to come to the girls’ help.

  In the distance, sirens could be heard coming from the other direction. On the side of the road, three women were huddled around the twins, each with her cell phone to her ear, calling 911 for help. The man chasing after them suddenly came to an abrupt stop. He looked out over the crowd that was gathering between him and the twins. Overhead the Channel Eight news chopper had begun to circle. Realizing this was a fight he couldn’t win, the man with the scar did an about-face, racing in the opposite direction.

  Malcolm snatched his phone, answering it on the first ring. “Hello?”

  Both Cilla and his mother stood anxiously at his elbow, listening as he spoke to someone on the other end.

  “Yes . . . okay . . . yes . . . I will . . . thank you . . . yes . . . we will.”

  When he disconnected the line he threw his arms up excitedly, beginning to shake as relief flooded his body. “They found the girls!”

  “Thank you, Jesus!” Mama Claudette cheered, laughing and crying simultaneously.

  “Where are they?” Cilla questioned, concern still shimmering in her eyes.

  “Fredericksburg. Agent Taylor is picking them up now. They’re being flown into Raleigh-Durham International. They should be landing in the next hour.”

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Mama Claudette continued to chant.

  Malcolm looped an arm around her, hugging her tightly. He kissed her forehead, his own tears dampening her brow. Cilla stood watching them, her hands clasped tightly together in front of her chest. Her own tears trickled down her cheek. Reaching out, Malcolm drew her into the embrace, hugging both women with the last ounce of energy he had left.

  “Let’s go get our girls,” he said, clearing his throat.

  The ride to the airport was rife with joy. Malcolm shared what little the federal agent had been able to share. He knew the girls were safe. He knew they had never made it to Baltimore. He knew that their mother and the man who’d taken them were both in police custody. And he knew that they would soon be home, safe and sound. He didn’t care about the rest, wanting only to hold them both in his arms and never again let them go.

  As if reading his mind Cilla reached out her hand, dropping it against his forearm. She smiled, giving him a slight nod of her head. “They’re going to be just fine,” she said. “But you can’t smother them. Even though your first instinct is you wanting to lock them away to protect them, you can’t do that. You just need to love them and keep teaching them how to protect themselves.”

  Malcolm blew a deep sigh. He cut his eye at her. “I’ll think about it,” he said as he pulled his car off the Lumley Road exit and turned onto Airport Road. “I promise. Next month, maybe even next year I’ll give it some serious consideration.”

  In the backseat, Mama Claudette laughed, the warmth of it feeling good to them all.

  The local news had carried the story of the twins’ rescue. The family had gathered around the television with the girls filling in all the details the media had missed.

  “We did like you told us, Mimi,” Claudia said. “I stabbed him in the face with a pen. I tried to get him in the eye but I missed. It hurt though. You should have heard him scream.”

  “I bit him, too, and we didn’t panic. We stayed calm and waited for the perfect moment to make a run for it,” Cleo added. “And Mommy helped us. She jumped on him and we were able to get out of the car and run.”

  “And we stayed where people could see us so there were plenty of witnesses.”

  “Everyone came to help!” Cleo interjected. “A bunch of truckers gave that man a beat down!”

  Malcolm looked from his daughters to Cilla and back. “Cilla told you to do all that?”

  “Mimi’s taught us all kinds of things,” Cleo said, leaning her head against Cilla’s shoulder.

  Cilla gave him an uneasy smile. “It’s never too early for a young woman to learn how to protect herself. Every girl should know some self-defense.”

  Malcolm nodded his head slowly.

  Mama Claudette turned off the television, resting the remote on the coffee table. “You girls have had a full day. It’s time for bed,” she said.

  “Do we have to?” Cleo whined, looking toward her father.

  “Can’t we have a slumber party?” Claudia questioned.

  He shook his head. “No. You two have school tomorrow.”

  “School?” both exclaimed. “We have to go to school?”

  “Yes,” Malcolm said. “You’re going to school and then you’re coming right home. You’re on punishment until further notice for what you did.”

  Both girls groaned but neither protested. Claudia rolled her eyes as she moved toward the door. Cleo followed on her heels. Both girls paused in the entranceway, turning back toward their father.

  “What’s going to happen to Mommy?” Cleo questioned.

&nbs
p; Malcolm took a deep breath. “What your mom did was wrong. She’s going to have to go to court and the judge is going to punish her.”

  Cleo nodded. “Can we tell the judge that she helped us?”

  Claudia’s head bobbed in sync with her sister’s. “Mommy didn’t want us to get hurt. She really didn’t, Daddy.”

  Malcolm looked from one to the other. “We’ll see,” he said finally. “Head up to bed. We’ll all be up in a minute to tuck you in.”

  When the girls were out of earshot he turned his attention toward Cilla. “I see you and I have a lot to talk about,” he said. “Self-defense? Really?”

  She shrugged, a smile pulling at her mouth. “The more they know the better off they’ll be. No man has a right to put his hands on them without their permission and if one does, they should know how to safely defend themselves.”

  Malcolm chuckled softly as he reached to kiss her lips. “Why do I get the feeling that tonight’s story time is going to be a whole other adventure?”

  He reached out his hand to pull her onto her feet and into his arms.

  Cilla kissed him warmly. “Because love always is.”

  The girls were on the telephone with their grandmother Maxine when Malcolm and Cilla finally made it up the stairs. Mama Claudette stood in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched them. She smiled as the couple moved to her side, both stopping to eye the twins. Everything felt right again.

  Malcolm moved into the room, gesturing for the phone. “Hey, Miss Maxine,” he said into the device.

  He could hear the smile in her voice. “They’re really okay?” she asked.

  He nodded into the receiver. “They’re both just fine.”

  She let out an audible sigh of relief. “Cleo said they arrested Shanell and the man she was with.”

  “They did.”

  “I imagine my daughter’s not going to get out of this quite so easily this time.”

  Malcolm paused, sensing that everyone in the room was staring at him. “It’ll work out,” he finally responded. “I imagine that if we all pray hard enough that everything will work out the way it’s supposed to.”

  “God is good,” the woman whispered loudly.

  “All the time.”

  There was a moment of pause as the two collected their thoughts. After a moment Miss Maxine changed the subject.

  “I told the girls that I’m coming to see them this weekend. They had me scared so I need to come love on ’em for a few days. I hope that’s okay.”

  “It’s perfect,” he answered. “We can’t wait to see you.”

  He passed the phone back to Claudia. “Tell your grandmother good night, then give the phone to your sister so she can do the same,” he said.

  Obedient, both girls blew kisses into the receiver then hung up the phone.

  “Once upon a time there were two pretty princesses, who had two fairy godmothers,” Cleo started.

  “One fairy godmother was poisoned by an evil witch, the dark spell making her sad and angry,” Claudia said.

  The two girls both swung their gazes in their father’s direction.

  Malcolm took a deep breath. “But the other fairy godmother was there to show them how much the pretty princesses were loved.”

  “And they were loved,” Mama Claudette added, “more than anything else in the kingdom.”

  “And they all lived happily ever after,” Cilla concluded.

  The girls laughed.

  “That wasn’t very creative, Mimi,” Cleo chimed.

  “It was really bad,” Claudia added.

  “It wasn’t that bad,” Cilla laughed.

  “It was,” Malcolm teased. “Really bad.”

  Cilla looked to Mama Claudette for support.

  The older woman smiled. “I liked it but then I’m always a sucker for a happy ending.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “How did I get engaged before you and you’re getting married before me?” Bianca questioned. She sat sipping on a glass of champagne as her best friend tried on wedding gowns.

  The two women were alone in the salon of Traditions by Anna, the North Hills bridal shop by appointment only. The consultant assisting them was smiling brightly.

  Cilla shrugged as she stood in a classic off the shoulder design, eyeing her reflection in the mirror. “You’re too flighty. It’ll be another decade before you marry Ethan.”

  “No, it won’t. I’m committed to marrying Ethan over the Christmas holiday. It’ll be the anniversary of our meeting and falling in love. It’ll be perfect. Besides, he’s older than I am, remember? He might not have a decade.”

  “Bianca!”

  “What? I’ve said the same thing to him. We can’t afford to sugarcoat things. He’s old!”

  “He’s not old.”

  Bianca looked at the saleswoman. “He’s got some age on him. He looks good for his age but he’s up there.”

  The woman smiled.

  Cilla shook her head. “He’s the best thing to happen to my friend. And she loves everything about that man. Even his dirty drawers!”

  Bianca grinned. “I do love his dirt. I won’t lie. Still doesn’t explain how you’re getting married first.”

  “Can you believe that next year this time we’ll both be married?” There was no missing the sentiment in her tone.

  Cilla’s friend smiled. “Are you sure Malcolm’s the one? You don’t have any doubts?”

  “It’s the only thing I’m certain of. I love him more than I could ever begin to tell you. And I love our family.”

  Bianca laughed. “You get two teenage stepdaughters and I get a stepson almost as old as I am. How’s that for some junk!”

  Cilla shook her index finger at her friend. “Correction. I get two daughters. We aren’t having any steps or halves in our family. I refuse to even start that. I love both his girls like they’re my own and that’s how I plan to treat them.”

  “I’d claim Ethan’s son too but no one would believe I could have a son that old.”

  “Do it anyway. Give them something to talk about.”

  “I could do that, couldn’t I. Lie about my age. Folks would be talking about how incredible I look. How fabulously young! I like that. I could work that.”

  Cilla and the consultant both laughed.

  “Did I ever tell you that I love you, Priscilla Jameson? And that I’m glad you’re my best friend and no one else’s?”

  “No. I don’t think you ever have.”

  Bianca nodded. “There’s a reason for that. I might tell you about it someday. When we’re old and gray and we have little snot-nosed people calling us Grandma.”

  Cilla smiled. “I love you, too!”

  Bianca changed the subject. “I’m not feeling that gown.”

  Her friend shook her head. “Neither am I. I look like a cake topper. All I’m missing is the bouffant hairdo.”

  Bianca laughed. “I’ll take that as a no. That is not your dress!”

  Minutes later Cilla stepped out in an Anne Barge design. The gown had a bateau neckline with a heavily beaded bodice that flowed into a skirt of silk organza. It fit her curvaceous figure to a tee. The cream colored fabric was ultra-flattering to her brown complexion, everything about the dress complementary. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen and she was extraordinarily beautiful wearing it.

  Bianca slapped her hand over her mouth fighting back hot tears that suddenly threatened to spill past her thick lashes. “Oh, my!” she gushed. “You look incredible!”

  Cilla grinned. “I really love this one,” she said. She spun left and then right, admiring her reflection in the mirror.

  The consultant agreed. “It’s stunning on you. And it’s one of the only designs that we have that you can get off the rack. It’ll take very few alterations and we can easily have it ready by your wedding date.”

  Cilla turned to stare back into the mirror. Bianca moved to her side. The two friends clasped hands, swinging their arms betwe
en them.

  “I think this is the one,” Cilla said.

  Bianca laughed. “So do I. And it’s a good thing too because I might have to borrow it from you in a few weeks!”

  The Starbucks coffee shop was the ideal venue for Malcolm and Cilla’s wedding. The girls had suggested the casual location, insisting that the site of their first meeting would be the perfect place to seal their future together. The couple could not have agreed more. The space was inviting and familiar and the coffee shop’s manager had been more than happy to oblige them.

  The early evening ceremony had included their closest family and friends and a few strangers who’d wandered in for one of the business’s renowned Frappuccino drinks. Malcolm had been a dashing groom in a black-on-black suit. Romeo had been his only groomsman, standing beside him in support. Side by side the two friends had looked like a GQ cover come to life.

  Cilla had entered from the outside and Malcolm had been reminded of that first time she’d walked through the door and he’d laid eyes on her. As she’d stepped through the entrance she was even more stunning, the most beautiful bride that he could have ever imagined. Envisioning the gown Cilla had described didn’t come close to the real thing. The beaded design shimmered beneath the lights, casting a warm glow over her face. Her curls were pulled atop her head in a loose chignon and a simple strand of pearls adorned her neck.

  They took their vows with Cleo and Claudia standing between them, both beaming with joy. The minister said a prayer over their family as Cilla committed herself not only to Malcolm but to his daughters, as well. Everything about the moment was sheer perfection and when they were pronounced man and wife, both knew that they were playing for keeps, nothing and no one able to come between them.

  After the ceremony, they danced the night away at The Playground, no other place more fitting for the occasion. Laughter was abundant and, side by side, Malcolm and Cilla couldn’t imagine themselves any happier.