by Larry Brown
“My name is Harry Blake, and I am here with Andy’s brother Clay Hardaway. He’s on a call and told me to look around.”
“Oh he did, did he?”
“Yes, ma’am. Are you a customer?”
“No.”
“A friend of Andy’s?”
“You could say that,” she said smiling.
“And your name is?”
“Andrea Wilson.”
“Nice to meet you, Andrea. Is Andy out here or at the house? I didn’t try there I just started walking around. I hope he doesn’t think I’m rude. Clay said to take a look around.”
“You are the writer, aren’t you?”
“Why yes, I am. I am always surprised when somebody recognizes my name.”
“I read the papers, and I actually read your books.”
“Really?”
She took off her hat revealing the rest of her red hair thus showing streaks of grey.
“Let me take you back to the house, and you can have a drink with Andy,” she said, trying to control a laugh. “You know Andy is trying to become much more feminine, don’t you?”
Harry was stunned, “Uh, well no, I’ve never met Andy before.”
What the hell is going on? Clay should have said something.
“Are you shocked, Mr. Blake?”
“Shocked about what?” As soon as he said he knew it sounded stupid.
“What do you think about people enhancing their feminine side?”
“Can I be honest?”
“Please do.”
“I think, if you will excuse my language, it’s a bunch of horseshit.”
“Harry, there is a lot of people that don’t agree with you.”
“Andrea, there’s a lot of people that don’t agree with me on a lot of things. It doesn’t make me wrong.” Harry thought, Another liberal, but a damn pretty one.
They reached the steps to the home and waved to Clay who was still on the phone in the car. She led him into the foyer and down the hall to the kitchen. The house had been rebuilt but that was 25 years ago but obviously the kitchen more recently since it was up to date in every way.
There was a granite island in the middle with six barstools where she seated him. She walked out of the room, and the smell from the stove started to get his attention. It had to be lamb and something. He immediately was hungry. As he slowly scoped out the room and focused on a picture of a younger Clay and Andrea.
She was back with a bottle of Buffalo Trace and three glasses of ice.
“How did you know?”
“Clay of course.”
“How long have you known the family? I saw your picture with Clay from a few years ago.”
“Oh, I’ve known the family my entire life.”
Harry sat silently and then looked again at the picture.
“Damn, you have been pulling my chain.”
“Why, Harry, what are you talking about?” she said laughing out loud.
“I’m talking about Andrea or Andy, whichever you prefer.”
She was now laughing and talking at the same time, “Clay said he wasn’t sure but thought you might have assumed I was his brother. I just couldn’t resist when you came down that path looking for Clay’s ‘brother.’ You should have seen your face when I started the feminine dialogue. You looked like you were ready to run for the car.” She was still laughing.
Harry thought, She’s not a lefty, she’s a loony. He was beginning to be pissed. She walked to the stove, raised the lid on the pot, and stirred the contents.
“I hope you like lamb.”
“One of my favorites, but you can look at my figure and see I have lots of favorites.”
“Clay says you are quite the chef. Would you be my taste tester?”
She didn’t wait for him to answer, she brought the big wooden spoon to him. He blew the contents lightly and tasted. She had included a small piece of the meat. It was succulent.
“It’s delicious.”
“How about seasoning? Does it need something?”
He thought for a minute and said, “No I don’t think I would do a thing.”
As he watched as she walked back to the stove, he thought her body looked mighty good for sixty.
“Harry, you were talking about your body, how old are you?”
“What do you think?”
“Oh no, I won’t fall into that trap.”
“Seventy-two.”
“Right, now you are, what did you say, pulling my chain.”
“No, seventy-two, that’s the truth.”
“I should have guessed you would have liked my answer.”
Now Harry’s vanity kicked in, and he wanted to hear her say it.
“Tell me what you thought.”
She laughed and smiled and said, “Oh, not a day over 70,” and she laughed out loud again.
He liked the sound of her laugh but not when it was at him.
Clay walked into the kitchen apologizing for being on the call so long. He described it as a minor departmental crisis and would say no more.
“I see you two are properly introduced.” He looked at Andy and said, “Was I right?”
She smiled, “Oh yes, and I think I might have overdone it. I think Harry may be ticked at me for carrying the ruse so far.”
Before Harry could speak, Clay jumped in, “I don’t know how this happened the way it did, but you provided some real grins for us.”
Harry tried to dismiss the whole thing, but their talk wasn’t that funny to Harry.
“It’s time to move on, Clay. Harry, would you be offended if I didn’t change for dinner? I don’t want to be rude, but I would like to enjoy my drink and get to know you better.”
“You are fine. I think Clay knows me well enough, I’m really just a down-to-earth kind of guy.” He didn’t say, but he thought she looked fantastic the way she was though she was a little looney and may even be a lefty. Feminine side.
“Harry, Clay filled me in on the tragedy, and I want to tell you how sorry I am for your loss. I was only married for ten years, and it was not easy when he passed. Thank goodness as we did, y’all had your faith to get you through it. Clay had told me that you and your wife were firm in your faith.”
“Thank you, but by the way, what do I call you? Andrea, Andy, hey you,” and he laughed trying to make up for the earlier awkward moment.
“Forevermore, Andy, unless you are going to be really serious,” and she laughed and winked at him.
The lamb stew and the 93 Silver Oak Cab were perfect as was the rest of the evening. Before they left, she invited Harry back for a daytime visit to see the horses and the rest of the property. She asked him if he rode, he said no but had always wanted to try but time just passed him by. She told him maybe not. She hugged them both before they left. Harry knew he liked her looks but was unsure if he liked her personality.
Chapter 12
It had now had been over four months since the ‘incident.’ The daily calls from his girls had now changed to weekly check-ins. The weekly calls from his boys had now been reduced to every two, three or four weeks depending on which son. That was fine, how many times can you ask “how are you doing and you say fine.”
It had been over a month since any of his family had visited and that was alright. The big family issue was about who would host Thanksgiving and Christmas. To their dismay he had said, in no uncertain terms, he fully intended to have both holidays at his house on the lake as they had done in the past. Their big concern was that it would be an upsetting reminder of Maggie. His response was if he could live there every day, they could handle a few days – grow up and move on like he was trying to do.
He was staying busy. He and Clay continued to host each other for dinners every week to ten days and had become good friends. He also was looking forward to a second visit with Andy. Harry had even started a new book about a small rural county sheriff and Clay agreed to allow Harry to use him and his department for research. He was still working wit
h the screenwriters as they worked on the script for making a mini-series of his first two books. With his church activities and household duties, he was about as busy as he wanted to be.
Some days he never thought about Maggie until the day’s end and sat out on the porch to look at the lake and have his evening cocktail. He thought about their early days and the heat and passion that had been unlike any he had ever felt. He remembered the conversations about a child. At first, Maggie had been very cynical about the subject. She was 28, and he was 26, and she did not want to be pregnant in her 30s. That was all he needed to hear. It opened the door for him to make a deal to give it a year and let the good Lord decide. Thank goodness they did because that brought Sally into the world. And she probably was the tie that bound. He thought about their time of separation and truly believed that they were done. It would have been easy to say you take yours and go and I’ll take mine and go.
But there was Sally…so much more than Sally. He remembered it well when they married, they committed to each other from day one there would never be hers or his or yours or mine. They all would be ours. It was the right thing to do, and it worked. The separation was unfortunate, and he didn’t want to think about it. But hardly any thought of Maggie brought reminders of the gang issues. Thank goodness it appeared Clay had been overly concerned about Polk County gangs.
Chapter 13
Hector Wente was small in stature at 5'5" and 135 pounds. What he lacked in size was more than compensated in ego and drive. Hector considered himself a good man and a good leader. He tried to set a good example for the others in MS5 by going to mass reasonably often with his family. But even though his mother pushed him hard, he refused to go to confession.
Hector had big goals for his life. The main one was to go to New York and join up with MS13 in Long Island. He had convinced the others in MS5 that this should be their common goal and, they had all agreed. He had explained to them it was not just making the trip as a bunch of ignorant Guatemalan immigrants wanting to join. No, they had to go showing they had earned respect. To do that, they had to do something big; he already had the plan laid out in his mind.
The idea had come to him when two blacks botched the job of stealing the gold coins from the old man. Not only had they screwed up this job but they got themselves killed. He always knew the blacks were not very smart. But one thing he was sure of, he was not stupid.
His plan started with the low rider. They had stolen everything they needed to make the old car pass as a low rider. And to bring home his point, the sheriff’s department had spent all their time trying to prove the Mexicans stole the parts. It was just more proof for his crew that he was smarter, not only than other gangs but also the law.
He paid attention to detail. The MS5s had determined that Harry Blake’s neighbor’s house on the right was a vacation home. They only came on weekends in the summer and an occasional holiday. The neighbor on the left only lived there from May until November. They spent their winters in south Florida. The Blake house and the two neighbors were on steep lots tilting toward the lake. From the street, you could only see the housetops. The Blake’s house was concealed on both sides by large thick magnolias and evergreens. It afforded great privacy for all.
He had told his crew why the blacks had failed. First of all, they went too early; the couple was still up. Secondly based on the newspaper account they had pulled their van right up to the front door. They could have easily been blocked in by cops rushing in for the silent alarm. Lastly, they let a seventy-something-year-old man outgun them. Stupid.
He laid out his plan for them. First, they would go between three and four a.m. The old man should be in a deep sleep by then. Secondly, they would come down the street with lights out in the low rider. Then they would park in the neighbors on the right side of the driveway. Going in through the thick trees, making four separate but simultaneous entries, they would give the old man a chance to surrender and be tied up, but, if he resisted in the least, they would send him on to join his wife. They would take the gold coins and go. If he were correct, they would be back in town before breakfast.
As with the last attempt, he was sure there would be lots of publicity. This brazen act would be their ticket into MS13. There would be enough money to ensure his family didn’t need his paycheck to survive and surely MS13 would welcome him into a leadership position. The only thing left to do was pick the time.
Chapter 14
Harry was now staying busy. He was as active as he had been since his retirement. Harry had become so busy that lately, he would go several days at a time without missing Maggie. He would think about her and felt guilty that a few days had come and gone with no thought of her. He called Ray Andrews, his pastor, and set up lunch. Harry and Ray had become good friends soon after they met. They were of similar age, similar likes, and both from the same state.
They met at a large lakefront restaurant that was big enough that they could find a quiet table out of the way. After welcoming hugs, Ray started, “Harry, forgive me for not setting this time up. We see each other a couple of times a week, but we never get to talk one on one. How are you holding up?”
“No apologies necessary. That’s why I wanted to talk. I have gotten so busy; I have gone days at a time without the first thought of Maggie. I feel guilty as the devil. What’s wrong with me, Ray?”
Ray looked at Harry, turned his head and looked out at the lake, squinted, and finally spoke, “You know, Harry, the Bible tells us there is a time and a season for everything. It doesn’t give us the length of time or season. Everybody is different.”
“Yeah, but is there some minimum time to be proper?”
“What are you expecting to accomplish, Harry? You want the folks at church or around town to say poor Harry, he just can’t seem to get over losing Maggie?”
“No, I don’t want any sympathy, I just don’t want to feel guilty.”
“For what it’s worth, I believe it’s necessary and God wants us to grieve. Having said that, even Jesus said in so many words you got to move on man. The living need to be with the living. Here’s another thing I think, you are leading a blessed life. You have grieved for months, and it sounds like your season has passed. I personally think it’s a blessing. At our age, only the good Lord knows how many years we have left. Make the most of your time.”
Harry sat silently pondering what Ray just said.
Ray leaned forward and smiled a most mischievous smile, “Hey old man, you starting to think about women?”
Harry sat up straight; acted as if he was shocked at the question. “I haven’t been around any women socially, so no. I take that back, I have been around one, but I think she might be a left wing looney.”
“Oh yeah. Can I ask who?”
“Sure, Clay Hardaway and I have become good friends, and he took me up to meet his sister and have dinner.”
“Unmarried?”
“Ten years a widow.”
“How old?”
“Sixty.”
“Attractive?”
“Unfortunately yes, very.”
“Why, unfortunately?”
“I think she’s looney and a lefty. Ray, I’m not looking for a woman. I’m too busy.”
“Tell me what you are doing to stay so busy.”
Harry told him about the research, the new book, the miniseries, and the other odds and ends in his life. Ray blessed their food, and they ate with the conversation focusing on activities at the church. At the conclusion of their meal, Ray said he had one final thing, he wanted to say before they left.
“My good friend, count your blessings. If the good Lord wants you to think about Maggie and grieve more, he will make sure it happens. If he gives you peace to move on, then for His sake, move on and enjoy life. And for sure don’t worry about what some old hens think about your grieving time.”
Harry thanked Ray and vowed to do his best not to feel guilty.
When he got home, there was a message on his phon
e. “Hello Harry, I hope you are well. This is Andy, I was wondering if you might be interested in speaking to a women’s group that I belong to. Please give me a call and I’ll fill you in on the details. Also, we need to set up a time for you to have a proper tour of the farm.”
Harry’s first thought was some sort of feminist group. Why would they want me of all people to speak? Lord, what must she be thinking? Lefties don’t always think, he thought.
Chapter 15
It was 3:00 am on a moonless Thursday night when the lowrider eased out of town headed for the lake. When they reached Harry’s street, the lights were shut off, and they reduced their speed. At this time of the morning, the only lights to be seen were the street lights which were more than adequate to get them to their destination, Harry’s neighbor’s driveway. Everyone knew what they were to do. Two men around the house and two downstairs, each would take a door. One man would take the stairs on the rear side of the house and use that entrance. The fourth man, Hector, next in charge, Felipe, he was assigned the front door. After everyone was in place, Hector would use a bell on his phone as the signal to go. Hector was to wait outside until the first assault and then he would come in the front door as back up.
Hector lined the men up in single file with Felipe in the lead position. He would go first and make sure the others went in the proper direction. When Felipe cleared the tree line and was on his second step in the clearing between the trees and the house, an array of floodlights came on and made the area brighter than the midday sun. Felipe froze for an instant and then dove back into the trees. The four scrambled for the car, but Hector held his ground and waited. There were no alarms and so far no opening doors. His men were pleading with him to get in the car so they could leave. Hector waited patiently by the tree line until he heard the information he needed. He looked through the trees and spoke aloud to himself, “You live another day, old man, but we will be back.”