“Are we going to make grandmas tonight?”
“I don’t know, Cass. It’s going to be close.”
Leslie focused on the road again. The I-95 had been busy in Florida and Georgia but by early evening, traffic was beginning to thin.
The sky was drab and grey; time sat in that precarious buffer zone, on the cusp as day acceded to night. The sun had set, leaving a rosy glow across a long, low arch on the western horizon. The tree lines and fields of rich farmland on either side of the interstate were now a gold-rimmed black.
A road sign caught Leslie’s eye at Florence, South Carolina, near exit 157 and she cut out of the light traffic taking the off ramp. The change in the vehicle’s motion stirred the children from a light sleep.
Leslie had been on the road almost nine hours. She was sore, and her eyes were weak and gritty. She was done and needed sleep.
“I think we’re going to stop for the night guys.”
“Can we find a hotel with a pool, mom?”
“There won’t be any time honey.”
“What about in the morning?”
“We’ll see.”
She pulled into a service station and fueled up. Everything they needed was close by. You could take out a window at the Day’s Inn or McDonalds from where she was standing with nothing more than a nine iron.
The hotel was nothing special, but it was clean, reasonably priced, and had an outdoor pool. It also advertised a complimentary breakfast, but if it was the usual continental, Leslie knew it would be too light for the road. She briefly considered driving up the road and looking for a grocery store, but she was just too tired. Maybe they’d double up on bagels.
They trudged through the courtyard overlooking the pool. It looked beautiful, lit up and surrounded by an ornate wrought iron fence. No one was around; the only sound was the dull hum of the air-conditioners outside the occupied units.
Their room was comfortable with a decent bath and after getting into their nightclothes Leslie ordered a movie that the children had suggested, and they snuggled together on one of the two queen size beds. Leslie knew none of them would see the whole movie, and before long all three were fast asleep.
It would be a long time before any of them would sleep so easily again.
Chapter 5
The drive through South and North Carolina was calming to Leslie, almost spiritual. She felt refreshed, and the worries of last night receded into the background like the images in her rear view mirror.
The countryside was soaked in warm sunshine; the sky a deep blue, almost indigo, and it was a beautiful backdrop for the columns of grey trees lightly speckled with flecks of fall colors. Immense stands of forest gave way to acres of freshly turned soil, dark and pungent, with a hint of rotting leaves. Then more forest.
Leslie cruised I-95 heading north at an easy pace, relishing in the familiar sights and smells. She was excited about returning home and seeing her mother and Jake.
Leslie had spent only a single year in Spring Lake, where she graduated from Overhills High School before heading off to college, returning home on summer breaks or whenever she could.
The rest of her childhood had been nomadic, drifting with the 7th Special Forces Group Airborne. Time in Panama, then Fort Davis, Texas, followed by short stints overseas.
Fort Bragg was the first place her family had put down roots.
To Leslie, being in the military had never been a singular occupation. It was a sacrifice made by families. Individuals fight bravely on the front lines or stand in harm’s way as peacekeepers in some of the most dangerous spots in the world, but families pick up the pieces, coping with their own particular brand of stress as husbands and wives return physically or emotionally scarred.
Leslie had always felt fortunate. Her father was a rock. If he was scarred, he never let her see it. He had always been her hero.
She was devastated when he was killed in a hit and run accident in 2004. All those years of service in harm’s way, and he dies in Fayetteville simply crossing the street.
About a year after her father died, Jake moved into the apartment above the garage. He’d been one of her dad’s best friends, and immediately helped her mother with the house and anything else she needed. Jake provided her mother with a deep and abiding friendship Leslie thought rare in platonic relationships, and she loved him for that. She knew her mom did, too.
Leslie suspected Jake not only loved her mother, but was in love with her, although he had never, to her knowledge, attempted to cross that line. He was a rare man, someone who stood for something and never compromised.
Jake reminded her of her father.
As a little girl, Leslie had called him Uncle Jake, and reveled in his visits, when he would bring her presents and tell stories of his adventures. Jake would sit for hours with her parents, talking and laughing far into the night. Whenever he came by, her parents forgot all about her bedtime.
For as long as Leslie could remember, Jake had been a part of her family, through good times and bad. Flying in his helicopter in Panama was one of her fondest childhood memories.
Just then, a jet streaked overhead, pulling Leslie out of her reverie. The hollow rumble echoed across the sky, followed by the crack of a sonic boom. Crisp contrails, double rails, and multiples in formation crossed the skies over Pope Air Force Base.
Chris hopped up and down. “Can we go see the planes, Mom?”
“Maybe Jake will take the two of you to the airbase.”
“Today?”
“We’ll see.”
Military vehicles began to mix with the civilian traffic the closer they got to the base. Leslie watched men and women pass in army combat uniforms, mostly desert camouflage, but occasionally woodland or plain black.
Uniforms sure have changed, she thought. ACU’s had replaced the Battle Dress Uniforms, but the old BDU’s lived on at army surplus stores and remained popular.
The sights and sounds of military personnel and their vehicles always reminded her of her childhood.
Leslie turned down McKenzie Road to Duncan, which became Kristin Avenue.
“There’s Jake,” Cassandra yelled as they neared her mother’s house.
Jake was out front painting the shutters in a high gloss black. He saw them and climbed down the step ladder, walking toward the driveway to the left of the house and waving.
Leslie smiled at the sight. Jake looked more excited than her kids.
Leslie wheeled up the driveway, tucking her SUV in tight behind Jake’s ‘72 Chevy pick-up. By the time she unbuckled her seat belt and climbed out of the car, the kids had already swarmed him, laughing and squealing.
“Easy you two. I’m an old man.”
Jake was still a lean and rugged man, fit and healthy at sixty-three. Leslie didn’t know how he’d never been snapped up unless her theory was correct.
He took off his ball cap, folded the brim and tucked it into the back pocket of his jeans. This was something else that always made her smile. No matter that they were outside and he’d been painting the side of the house, or that he’d known her since she was a baby, he still removed his cap in the presence of any woman as a sign of respect.
T-shirt and jeans were standard issue for Jake ever since he retired. He always said he spent so many years in uniform that he’d never button a shirt again, and even joked about wearing a jean jacket to her wedding, although that turned out to be an empty threat.
Leslie would not have cared one way or the other.
“Looking good Jake.”
“Oh, yeah. Shutters came out real nice,” he teased, knowing full well she was complimenting him. “Your mom picked out the color. I guess it’s better than that green.”
“I liked the green.”
“Olive green? I think it was left over from a can your dad brought home from the base.”
Leslie laughed.
“C’mere kiddo,” he said a fatherly twinkle in his eye.
Leslie fell into his embrace. T
he scent of old spice and paint enveloped her as completely as his arms. Everything about Jake made her feel warm and safe.
When they finally broke, his eyes were serious.
“Your mother was worried about you last night.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I had to pull in for the night. I meant to call. But it was late, and we were asleep the minute we stopped.”
“Well you’re here, now. I’m glad you called this morning, though, I can tell you. She was frantic.”
“I don’t know how you do it.”
“Let’s go find your mom.”
The kids had already raced ahead, cutting between the vehicles and the house and then the garage and the house, disappearing from sight around back.
Jake and Leslie walked side by side on the strip of gravel running beside the long asphalt driveway with ease as if they’d taken the walk a thousand times.
“How’s the truck running?” she asked.
Leslie loved Jake’s old Chevy, baby blue and white, the blue slightly faded from the sun, but the body was straight and true with no signs of rust.
“Rich. Bloody carb. I’ve gotta tinker with it today.”
They passed the garage, which matched the house, cedar siding painted white, neatly trimmed in the same black as the shutters. Stout boxwoods, tight and well-groomed, formed a hedge along the right side of the garage. Their leaves were brown and curled with the imminent change of seasons.
They rounded the back corner of the house and ran into June.
“Mother,” Leslie exclaimed, hugging her tightly. Her mother was wearing a wide-brimmed floral gardening hat, something Leslie swore she’d had since she was a child.
Even in her sixties, her mother was a slender, beautiful woman who looked ten years younger than she actually was until she smiled, and then it was twenty.
Leslie remembered some of her own boyfriends had commented on her mother’s looks and not always within the boundaries of good taste. Her mother just laughed it off, but Leslie quickly dismissed such boys.
“You saw the kids?” Leslie asked.
“They both gave me a hug and kisses and ran off. I was coming out to see what was taking you two so long.”
“Where’d they get to?”
“Don’t worry. They ran down to the dock to skip rocks.”
She gave her daughter a stern look.
“You had Jake worried half to death last night!”
“I know. He told me. I’m sorry.”
Leslie turned to Jake and gave him a sly look that told him the jig was up, but he just shrugged and pretended to check out the trim on the garage.
Leslie had known all along that Jake was the one who had been frantic last night. Her mother was concerned of course, of that Leslie had no doubt, but June would have remained calm. Jake was the worrier when it came to her and the kids.
“What are you up to now, Mother? Another project?”
“I’ve just been puttering around. The weather’s been so nice lately.”
“The lawn looks great. And the gardens are immaculate,” Leslie said with a look around the yard.
“I take no credit for the lawn. That’s Jake’s territory, and he guards it jealously.” Jake laughed. “But he insists I take credit for the garden, so thank you.”
Her mother had been pruning. She had a proclivity for roses favoring the yellows and soft pinks. They dominated the surrounding gardens that flowed back to her mother’s most recent project.
Using Jake's will and her way with roses, they’d built a large rectangular garden in the center of the lawn with a staggered flagstone walkway that led down to the dock. Two large magnolias guarded the path on either side, their askew limbs bare, both trees having dropped their fall foliage.
“Paul called again this morning,” June said.
“I thought he wasn’t calling until tonight. We stayed for a swim at the motel.”
“So that’s why you guys were so late,” Jake said.
“Why? Was mom getting worried, Jake?” Leslie said, full of syrupy innocence.
Jake suddenly found the trim extremely interesting once again, and the two women resumed their conversation.
“Did he say he was calling back again tonight?”
“Yes, and he was quite excited to tell you something.”
“Something?”
“He wouldn’t say.”
“No hints?”
“None. He said it was big but he’d yet to verify the rumors.”
“Is he coming home?”
“He didn’t say, darling.”
Jake had wandered halfway down the path to the dock, but of course had been listening closely to the conversation. Now he called down to the kids.
“Christopher. Cassie.” His voice was dry and gruff. “You guys want some pie?”
“Jake.” Leslie groaned and rolled her eyes.
But the children were already running through the garden following the flagstone up to the house.
“Yeah!” they shouted in unison, stopping in front of Jake and standing at attention. They lifted their hands in a smart salute, which he returned. A ritual. A game they’d played since they were practically babies.
“At ease.”
They laughed and fell out.
“It’s probably still warm. Your grandma was up bright and early. She baked blueberry for Christopher and apple for you, Cass.”
“Whipped cream?” they asked.
“What’s pie without whipped cream? Let’s go.”
They squealed with delight and ran into the house, followed by Jake.
June called after them. “Not too big a slice, Jake. They’ll ruin their dinner.”
“I can’t hear you,” Jake sang, letting the screen door slam to punctuate his disobedience. The two women could hear the three of them laughing inside the kitchen.
Leslie looked at her mother. “He doesn’t change, does he?”
“Him? You should have seen him at our bridge game the other night.”
“That bad?”
“Let’s put the roast in. Then we can sit down and I’ll tell you about it. I think I need a new partner.”
Leslie laughed.
She watched her mother and wondered if there was more going on between her and Jake than they let on.
Chapter 6
They came to the hotel before sunrise, armed soldiers who confiscated Paul’s cameras, computer, and cell phone. He was one of seven media personnel rounded up from the hotel and escorted to a great, cavernous hangar at the airport in Beijing. The men were strip-searched and herded like cattle into a holding area set up in an empty corner of the enormous space, joining a group of UN personnel who were also being detained.
“Paul. Over here.”
Dan McQuigon waved Paul into a small huddle of media guys, some of whom he knew personally and some only by sight. Dan was a journalist whom Paul had gotten to know quite well. They shared an affinity for good Scotch, and most nights were spent unwinding in the hotel’s bar along with the rest of the media boys.
“What do you make of all this, bud?”
Paul looked at his friend.
“They could have at least bought me dinner if they wanted to get me naked.”
Dan chuckled.
“Nothing like a good, old-fashioned cavity search first thing in the morning to get your blood pumping,” he said with a wry smile on his face.
“Yeah. They found my camera.”
“You two are fucked,” said one of the other men from the huddle.
Paul laughed before turning serious. “So we’re hitching a ride with those guys?” Paul asked, nodding in the direction of the UN team.
“Yeah. In that no less.” Dan said pointing toward a Lockheed C-130J Hercules with the UN emblem tattooed on the fin in bright blue.
“Look at that clumsy thing. Like a fuckin’ albatross,” Dan scoffed.
“So much for first class,” Paul said. He noticed one of the UN guys talking on a satellite phone and excu
sed himself.
“They let you guys keep your phones, huh?” The young man appeared to be just finishing up his call.
“Hey. We’re the UN.”
“Give you a hundred American if I can use it. They confiscated mine.”
“Deal,” said the man as he handed the phone to Paul.
Paul took it and held out five crisp twenties in his other hand.
He grinned and took four, leaving Paul with a single twenty.
“Take your time,” he said, turning around.
Paul had to chuckle at that.
“Gee, thanks,” he said, and punched in the number.
*
Leslie sipped her tea. She liked it sweet, three sugars and three creams. Jake opted for black. He sprawled out on a recliner as they all relaxed in the living room after dinner.
“That was great, Mom.”
June nodded and smiled from the other recliner. Leslie thought they looked like two bookends.
“Yes. Very good,” Jake added.
“The kids seemed to enjoy it,” June said.
“I know. It’s embarrassing. You’d think I don’t feed them.”
“So what have you been working on lately?” Jake asked. “I read your story on carving up Antarctica. Interesting read.”
“I’ve been asked to do a story on the ten worst natural disasters of recent times.”
“Ooh! That’s a rough one. Only been a few months,” Jake said.
“They told me I could go back to 1900, but I’d like to focus on the last ten years. Make people realize what’s been happening.”
“I don’t even want to think of what the future will be like for Christopher and Cassandra or their children,” June said.
“There’s the phone,” Jake said.
“That might be Paul,” Leslie said excitedly following her mom into the kitchen.
“Hello.”
“Hey, Mom.”
“Well, speak of the devil. We’ve been waiting for you to call. Leslie and the kids are here.”
“Great. I’m on a borrowed satellite phone, so I’ll have to make it short.”
“I’ll put Leslie on, she’s right here. Take care, Paul.”
“You too, Mom.”
“I think he’s coming home,” June whispered, handing the phone to Leslie.
Playing God Page 4