The Carolyn Chronicles, Volume 1

by Derek Ciccone

The girls carefully loaded the dogs into the back of the Cherokee, and Billy made sure everyone was buckled into their seats—Carolyn still required a car-seat, while Maddie and Anna had moved on to a belt-positioning booster seat, which they would use until they’d grown big enough that seat-belts fit properly. Billy recalled his parents letting him crawl around on the floor of the front seat. Today, that would get you five-to-ten in state prison. Probably a good thing.

  Parking was never easy in downtown New Canaan, but with Dog Days and the upcoming holiday, the center of town was packed this July 3rd. But they found a space in a commuter lot near the Metro North station. They walked along the brick-lined sidewalks, passing historic street lamps and rows of quaint two-story buildings. It had that quintessential New England feel to it. Billy was always expecting Paul Revere to gallop down the street on horseback announcing that the British were coming.

  The girls were technically leading the dogs on their leashes, although, sometimes Billy wasn’t sure who was leading who. When they turned onto Elm Street, Billy noticed that the same man had been following them from the commuter parking lot.

  He had a scruffy beard with long hair that was in a ponytail, and wore dark sunglasses. Billy didn’t want to partake in one of the favorite local hobbies: economic profiling—he makes under six figures and doesn’t drive a Mercedes, he could be dangerous—he was from the working class of Johnstown, Pennsylvania, where a man was judged by what he did, not what he owned. But here he found himself doing it.

  He had no real reason to be suspicious. The man likely was going to Dog Days, just like them. But Billy’s danger instincts were on high-alert—instincts that had been fine-tuned due to Operation Anesthesia. And he knew he had important cargo with him. Anna and Maddie were Kleins, the billionaire beer family, which always made kidnapping a threat. And they were the step-children of Oliver LaRoche, who like most powerful politicians, had made plenty of enemies. And then there was Carolyn—it wasn’t like people haven’t been after her before. The memory of her attempted abduction on this very street was still fresh.

  Kelly and Oliver had pushed Billy to hire security during the summers, but he always thought it was overkill and fought against it. As he casually glanced back at the man, he could already here LaRoche’s condescending “I told you so” in his head.

  Billy calmly instructed the girls to pick up the pace, and they tried, but they were at the mercy of their canine friends. Bernese Mountain Dogs specifically, were not known for their endurance, and Nails had slowed considerably along the route. Ronald and Reagan were panting, and they needed a moment to hydrate.

  When they stopped for a water break, the man passed them by without a second look. But Billy held a gaze on him. There was something that didn’t seem right about him, and not just the fact that he was wearing a heavy camouflage coat and jeans on this hot July day.

  They arrived on Grove Street, which had been closed to traffic for Dog Days. The girls were in heaven, but Billy was focused on the man in the camouflage jacket. He had guessed right—he was coming to Dog Days. He didn’t have a dog with him, but that was true of a lot of the attendees. It wasn’t required to bring your pet.

  Billy got pulled in twelve different directions by the girls and lost track of the man. And when he looked for him once more, he had disappeared. But nothing strange about that—many people had passed through taking a “look and see” on their way to something else in town. Billy scolded himself again, wondering if he would have had the same suspicions if the man wore a Polo shirt and khaki shorts like many of the other locals who attended.

  In a proud family moment, both Ronald and Reagan won an award for “Best Kisser.” In two separate categories: Ronald won for “Neatest Smooch,” while Reagan got “Sloppiest Kiss.” They were as different as Anna and Maddie were, personality-wise.

  Nails, who like his master, was a “bottomless pit” when it came to food, lived up to his billing, by winning a “Bobbing for Hot Dogs” contest, and setting an unofficial record in the process. Carolyn was very proud of this, clinging to the winning ribbon as if it were an Academy Award.

  “Why do they call them hot dogs when they’re not dogs?” Anna asked.

  Billy had no idea, although, being compared to processed meat was never a compliment. “I don’t know, but I think the more important question is: why do hot dogs come in packages of ten, but buns come in eight? It makes no sense.”

  The girls laughed. And Carolyn conceded, “You got me there.”

  Billy took a measure of pride—she wasn’t easy to stump.

  The girls … and dogs … eventually grew tired, and with Billy’s urging they decided to leave the festival, but not empty-handed. Besides the ribbons, the girls brought along their “pet portraits,” which were done by a local artist, along with a biscuit box they put together, filled with healthy dog cookies. Based on their smiles, Dog Days had lived up to the billing.

  They walked the short distance to one of Billy and Carolyn’s favorite restaurants, Molly’s. On the way, Billy kept glancing back to see if the man was following them again, but there was no sign of him. They sat at the sidewalk patio, which was ideal on the summer day, and was accommodating for the dogs.

  They ordered greasy hamburgers. Anna and Maddie’s mother, Kelly, was on her latest trendy diet, which was forced upon the girls, so fringe-benefits of summers with Dad were grilled meats and ice cream sandwiches—a secret between them, never to be revealed, even under extreme torture.

  When the food arrived, Billy thought this was as good of a time as any to delve into it. “I have an announcement to make,” he said.

  “You and Dana are going to have a baby?” Maddie asked right back.

  “No—where’d you get that idea?”

  “That’s what Mom said when they told us about Gordie,” Anna said.

  Gordie, named after Kelly’s father, Gordon Klein, was the girls’ half-brother, who was now over a year old. With LaRoche being his father, Billy could only hope that soullessness isn’t genetic.

  “We need to survive the wedding first,” Billy said, and wasn’t convinced that was a given. “What I want to tell you is that Dana and I are thinking about making an offer on the house we looked at the other day. The one in Fairfield.”

  “The one on the beach?” Anna asked, and Billy nodded.

  Maddie grew excited. “Best sandbox ever!”

  “Best sandbox ever!” Carolyn seconded, but Billy still wasn’t sure what she really thought about them moving out. Basically, she’d agree with anything Maddie thought these days. And yes, if she jumped off a bridge Carolyn would happily follow, so there was no point using that old line.

  Anna wouldn’t be so easily won over. “What room would we sleep in?”

  “There are two guest rooms—one upstairs that looks out at the beach, and one downstairs.”

  “Would we all get to stay in the same room?”

  “That’s up to you. We can divide it up any way you want.”

  That one would likely go down as a broken campaign promise, as the three of them in one room had proven to be a recipe for no sleep. This led to very cranky kids, and even crankier adults the next day.

  “I like how the beach smells,” Anna said.

  “Me too,” Maddie backed up her sister.

  “I like how the sand gets in between your toes when you walk on the beach,” Carolyn added, always a fan of texture—it’s the one thing she could feel.

  “Could we walk Ronald and Reagan on the beach?” Anna asked.

  “I think once you win best kisser at New Canaan Dog Days you can write your own ticket,” Billy tried to joke, which went over their heads, so he clarified, “Of course.”

  “And Nails too?” Carolyn asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  Billy went around the table—Maddie was a yes, as was Anna. That usually sealed the deal, but this time he had Carolyn to worry about. “I’m not sure I want to move,” she said.

  They’d been over
this a hundred times. “You’re not moving—me and Aunt Dana are. But it’s not far, and you can visit anytime you want. We’ll even get you a spare key.”

  “A spare key would be pretty cool,” she said, but then thought for a second. “Why do people always move? I wish everything stayed the same.”

  “It’s not so bad,” Maddie said, “We might be moving to another house, too. At least that’s what our other dad said.”

  Billy cringed every time he heard them refer to LaRoche as their other dad. But was intrigued by the rest of her statement. “You’re moving? To another place in Washington?”

  Since he’d lost the last election, LaRoche had stayed in the DC area, and ended up working where all disgraced politicians do, as a BHE on cable news—blow hard expert—so he would make frequent trips to New York, where GNZ is headquartered. And it sounded like he’d been doing some mingling with book publishers during those visits.

  “Not in Washington,” Anna said, and Billy wondered about a full-time move to New York. He might get to see the kids more, which was good, but the idea of being that close to LaRoche and Kelly unnerved him.

  “Then where to?”

  “To Pennsylvania,” Maddie said, and that also made sense—their home state.

  “No—not Pennsylvania,” Anna corrected. “Some place called Pennsylvania Avenue. It’s different.”

  Billy almost spit out his burger. “As in 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue?”

  “Yeah, that’s it—you’ve heard of it?”

  Son of a … that’s what the book is about, and all the recent PR stunts—look at our dog, and our new baby, I’m a family man. Sure, I cheated on my dying wife with Kelly Klein, who oh by the way was also married at the time, with two kids, but I’ve been able to sweep that under the rug, so please vote for me for president.

  Just the thought of Oliver LaRoche returning to a position of untouchable power where he could once again cause great harm to Billy and his children, created a sickening feeling in his stomach. He felt incapable of eating another bite, so he just played with his fries while watching the girls eat.

  Anna thankfully changed the subject, asking Billy, “Is there really going to be a pig there tomorrow?”

  “That’s why they call it a pig roast. It should be fun.”

  “But it won’t be Miss Piggy, right?”

  “I promise you it won’t be Miss Piggy.”

  This seemed to be a relief for Anna.

  “Pigs make bacon,” Maddie said.

  “No—they make ham,” Carolyn countered.

  “Actually you’re both right. Pigs make ham and bacon,” Billy mediated the dispute.

  “How can a pig make both ham and bacon? That’s cuh-razy,” Carolyn was not a believer.

  Billy didn’t have an answer for that one.

  “Will Ryan be coming to the pig roast?” Carolyn asked. Just as she had for weeks, and she received the same response from Billy.

  “I’m not sure.”

  Mainly because it was supposed to be a surprise.

  “Carolyn said she’s going to marry Ryan,” Maddie stirred trouble, as was her expertise.

  “No I didn’t!” Carolyn shot back.

  “Yes you did.”

  “When?”

  “In your room. And you said you were going to kiss him … on the lips.”

  “I did not!” Carolyn looked to Billy. “She’s fibbing.”

  “Nobody’s kissing anyone,” Billy interjected, adding, “Unless you won an award today for kissing.”

  They looked at the dogs that were secured nearby, and were more interested in their bowls of water than the bickering humans. All three girls laughed—friends again. Billy was starting to get the hang of this parenting thing.

  “Dana said people have to kiss a lot of frogs before they find their prince to marry, is that true?” Maddie asked.

  “Did you kiss a lot of frogs before you met Dana to marry?” Anna followed up.

  He was tempted to say, Just one—your mother. Very tempted.

  “I like Frog and Toad books,” Maddie said, sort of on topic.

  “Best books ever!” Carolyn added.

  Billy stared her down. “Are you sure?”

  “Oh, yeah—Dr. Suess are the best books ever.”

  He again flashed her the evil eye, and she started giggling. “I mean—Peanut Butter & Jelly are the best books ever!”

  “Somebody’s getting ice cream.”

  “They’re my favorite too,” Maddie announced.

  Billy pointed at her. “That makes two ice creams. How about you, Anna?”

  She smiled cheek to cheek. “They’re my favorite books in the whole entire world!”

  “Three ice creams!”

  “I can’t eat ice cream,” a strange voice interrupted.

  Billy looked up to see the man in the camouflage jacket, and this time he left no doubt that he’d been following them. His instincts had been true.

  The man glared at Maddie and Anna. “Do you know why?” His voice was garbled and desperate.

  They appeared frightened, saying nothing.

  “Do you know why?” he asked again, voice raised to threatening level.

  They just shook their heads. Billy could feel the tears coming on.

  “Because when I came back from the war your father sent me to, I had brain injuries, so every time I eat something cold I get a headache that makes my head feel like it’s going to explode.”

  “Excuse me—we’re trying to eat here, and you’re interrupting,” Billy said, but the man spoke over him.

  “I used to love eating ice cream, and popsicles in the summer. Days like today, but now I can’t. What would you feel like if you couldn’t eat ice cream anymore?”

  The girls just stared at him.

  “But that’s not the worst part. I could tell you about the PTSD, and the constant ringing in my ears that never went away after an IUD went off twenty feet away from me. Or that nobody will hire me, and I have to beg for food and shelter from the same goddamn government that I helped defend!”

  Billy sought out a waiter, or anyone that could help, but there was no one to be found. He was all on his own … and needed to do something fast before things escalated.

  “They tell me I’m the lucky one—because I wasn’t standing closer to that bomb. That guy, Jon Long, now he’s Jon Gone. But some days I think Jon got the better of the deal.

  “I wrote a letter to your father, the so-called esteemed Senator LaRoche, asking for help—the man who cast that deciding vote to send me there—and you know what, that coward didn’t have the common courtesy to take five fuckin’ minutes to write me back! I just want to know if you’re cowards like your father. That’s all.”

  Billy stood and shielded the girls from the man. The patrons slowly began to move out of harm’s way, but not wanting to attract the man’s attention. Who knows if he’s carrying a weapon?

  “They’re just kids—they have nothing to do with this.”

  “It’s too late for me, but at least I can try to stop the cycle. Help the future, man. Let them know how it is.”

  “You’re not helping anything, or anyone. And for your information, they aren’t LaRoche’s children.”

  “I’ve been lied to enough, so you can’t BS a Bser, you know what I mean, man? I saw them with him, at his rallies, when the bastard was running for re-election—talk about no shame. Now stand down, soldier.”

  “For the last time—LaRoche isn’t their father. I am. I’m sorry about what happened to you—trust me, I know what it’s like to feel like you’re at the end of your rope—but if you threaten my daughters one more time you’re going to have another war on your hands.”

  The man glared at Billy, then shoved both hands into his chest, sending him into their table. He crashed to the ground, spilling burgers, fries and sodas in all directions. The remaining patrons who had stuck around for the festivities, screamed out, and made a run for it.

  “You wanna war, man,
you got one!”

  As Billy lay dazed on the patio floor, he heard the words, “Billy’s my friend.” He knew what those words meant, and he would be too late to stop it.

  Carolyn ran at the man and launched like a missile into his leg, causing him to wobble, but was able to stagger, and remain upright. It left him off-balance and vulnerable for when Maddie did the same to his other leg.

  This time the man fell to the ground, landing with a thud. Then Anna entered the picture. She jumped on his chest, a handful of fries in one hand that she smooshed in his face. And a plastic ketchup bottle in the other, which she squeezed in his face, and it proved more effective than Mace.

  The man twisted and swatted like he was being attacked by bees. Eventually he was able to toss the girls off and struggle to his feet. He looked ready for round two, practically foaming at the mouth. But two New Canaan policemen had arrived.

  As they took the man away, he pointed at Maddie and shouted, “You have blood on your hands!”

  She fired back, “You have ketchup on your face!”

  Carolyn came over and helped Billy to his feet. “Are you okay, Billy?”

  He smiled at her. “Thanks to you I am, my friend.”

  As usual.

  Chapter 29

  Billy and Carolyn’s photos were once again on the nightly news. The positive, was that this time Billy wasn’t considered to be a dangerous kidnapper. But the “disrespectful beating of a war hero” as one news anchor put it, or “an abhorrent act against America on the eve of its Independence Day” as another described, wasn’t exactly putting today’s events in a good light for him.

  The man’s name was Alan Gaughan, originally from Minnesota, and he wasn’t lying about his military record—if anything, he was downplaying it. What he failed to mention about that roadside bomb that killed fellow soldier Jon Long was that Alan used himself as a human shield, saving three others, and not only received the lingering ringing in the ears he spoke of, but the blast caused blistering scars all across his back that resulted in numerous skin-graft surgeries. He could have went home at that point and collected disability, but Alan returned to the front lines, taking another bullet that was still lodged in his spine and collecting another Purple Heart.