RILEY

Man, I had the day from hell ahead. It was going to start with a meeting to contract a week long convention of PPG Creative Thinkers (whatever that means) in June. This would mean that for a full week during the deadest season of the year, we’d be booked solid. If this worked out, I can take a few moments to breath. The new construction was super expensive and I so needed to make up that deficit, pronto. That should take from nine to about ten … unless something goes wrong, and something always does. But I’ll handle it. A little intermission never hurt a productive meeting. And I simply had to be in my apartment at eleven!

Because, joy of joys … Jackie, my dear friend from Amsterdam would be arriving. She should get to the Inn around eleven and I knew she’d be here, neat and safe because I’d arranged for Max Skinner to pick her up. Her flight arrives at nine and I figured in the wait at baggage claim would take a few minutes then the hour drive from Burlington andd … hee haw she’d be here! Of course, she’d be here with a killer case of jetlag but that would work out just fine too. At noon, I had to get to Terry’s travel safety seminar downstairs. Jackie was sure to be sound asleep by then. We’d have our first real visit after that.

I dressed and negotiated with Nathan. He wanted brownies for breakfast; I wanted him to eat oatmeal. We compromised; I sprinkled a little cocoa on his hot cereal and you’d have thought I gave him gold.

While he ate I sipped coffee and thought about dinner a few nights ago with Maximus and Juba. Yes, Juba! Can you believe it? The man was so remarkably dignified, he put men like Kim and Skinner to shame. So humble too. He promised to come and see us again on his way east before heading back to London. It appeared Juba is planning a long visit at the Sonoma vineyard. I could see the pleasure in Maximus’ eyes.God sakes, I would love to be a fly on the way during that visit. How much those two had to talk about, to reminisce? Things no one else walking the planet would ever know, no doubt … except maybe Pullo and Antony. I sighed, my mind drifting on a fantasy into the past with our amazing ancient Romans.

But then my smile widened. I sure had a lot to deal with right here in 2009 Vermont. No time for daydreaming. Something new and exciting was coming into my life and I was stoked. Then all the air went out of my balloon.

“What’re you doing here?” I gasped as John hobbled into the apartment, sweating and tossing crutches aside as he dropped like a rock onto the sofa. “What happened?”

John loves to ski. I do too, but who has time for such things anymore. Besides, even if I did have time, there’d be no skiing for me this season. John had left around seven this morning for his regular stint on the ski patrol. Looking down at him, at the pain rippling across his face, how his ski pants had been sheered and the thickness of the ace bandage wrapped around his knee, I really didn’t need much more explanation. My heart almost jumped out of my throat.

Four years ago, he had gone up on that mountain to help find three skiers trapped in what was supposed to be a controlled avalanche. It wasn’t, and it got worse. The snow let loose again during the search. We almost lost John that night and seeing him all bandaged and hurting after everything he’d gone through to recover, simply ripped me in two. I didn’t want him on the mountain after that. I didn’t want him up on that mountain that very day, in fact. I had begged him to stick around and pick up Jackie for me. Needless to say, he went to work at Mount Mansfield and now he was laid up for only God knew how long.

My concerns turned to pissed off in the blink of an eye. John will never know how lucky he was that I had to leave exactly that moment or be rudely late for my meeting with PPG. As I headed to the door I pointed. “You have to be downstairs for Terry’s seminar at noon.” I didn’t add no if, ands or buts. Didn’t think I had to.

I composed my face and got ready to leave. I had to pump my husband full of pain meds, clean my son’s chocolaty face and drop him off at the daycare service we offer at the Inn … and get to my meeting, cool, calm, composed and smiling.

“I love you,” John called as I left.

Sheesh!

COLIN

I have a habit of pickin’ up houses that never get used for their intended purpose. Seems I have the same problem with my relationships with the important women in my life. Big plans and good intentions, but it never seems to work out as I’d first expected. From now on, when it comes to real estate, I’m stayin’ put. As for sheilas, well, I reckon it’s always gonna be a learning experience.

Three days of cleaning and tinkerin’ around in the basement and garage after Carrie left, and I suddenly realized that I like this ol’ place. Yeah, it’s too big for one person, but I don’t feel the presence of angry ghosts like I did with the house I’d bought with Natalie. After a bit of thinkin’ and a lot of sucking up my courage, I called Carrie after she’d had a couple days to get settled in L.A. and asked her if she’d be interested in letting me buy out her share.

“Are you sure you want to keep the place?” She sounded a little edgy at first, but seemed relieved and I think a little surprised when she realized that I wasn’t callin’ and beggin’ her to come back. 

“For now, yeah. Unless you had other plans?”

“I hadn’t really thought too much about it, not yet, anyways. There’s too much going on and I haven’t quite settled in here, but things seem to be working out okay … so far.”

It was bloody obvious that she was distracted, but we spoke for a few more moments, askin’ safe questions that didn’t need big involved answers. How’s the weather, have you started the new job yet, do you need me to send any money? What I’d wanted to say was I’m sorry for breakin’ your heart and being a selfish bastard, but decided to give it a rest. My conscience was my own problem. Let the woman get on with her life and make a clean break.

“I’ll give you a call in a few days. I’m still getting used to the time difference and I have a big meeting scheduled for tomorrow and everything’s been kind of hectic. You take care of yourself, Col.”

I held the phone in my hand after she hung up and just stared at it, feeling an odd sense of relief mixed with a healthy dose of regret. Carrie was already movin’ on and I guessed it was time for me to do the same. It didn’t let my conscience off the hook, not by a long shot, but maybe it was time for me to make a fresh start of things as well. There were a few matters that I’d been thinkin’ over and with this being a new year and all, maybe now was the time to address ‘em. I needed to take a good look at where I was and where I where I wanted to go.

By the fourth day after Carrie left, I’d spoken to her attorney and made an appointment with my own. I caught up on several neglected e-mails and even did a few loads of laundry. I was in the living room folding the last load and ironing a couple of dress shirts remembering the surprise visit I got from Riles and Natalie last week.

“And to what do I owe this pleasant surprise?” I realized that Riley was checkin’ up on me and I felt yet another wave of guilt when I realized that she’d brought Nat along as reinforcement. The memory of another visit really not all that long ago when I was drunk and out of my mind nearly brought me to my knees.

I’d motioned for them to come inside, seeing the look of wide eyed amazement pass between them as I led them into the living room. Riley stared at the ironing board and glanced quickly over at Natalie.

“I just made a fresh pot of coffee. Looks like you two might need a bit of warmin’ up.”

“We just wanted to see how you were doing and if you needed anything.” Riley’s voice seemed a bit too light in tone, and I could tell that she was carrying a large load of relief. Her eyes scanned the front room and I could tell that she was noticing that I’d vacuumed and dusted.  “The house looks so … clean.”

They had followed me into the kitchen and I motioned for them to take a seat at the table. Riley took a glance at the sink and I caught her looking for the trash bin and any leftover beer bottles. I decided to set both their minds at ease.

“I reckon I’m managing as well as can be expected. I’ve been doin’ a lot of thinking and facin’ up to a few hard truths. Amazing how it all comes and hits you alongside the head sometimes. Cream and sugar?”

They both nodded and I couldn’t help cracking a small grin. Wasn’t often that I had the chance to see Riley struck speechless, so I knew I was on the right track. I grabbed the box of donuts left over from my grocery run earlier and set them on the table along with the sugar bowl and a carton of half and half.

I reached into the dishwasher and pulled out two clean cups and turned my attention to Natalie. “How are you and Jack doing?”

Natalie smiled and reached for a donut, thanking me as I set her cup down in front of her. “We’re doing much better. It’s been a sad year, but we’re trying to move ahead.”

I sat down across from her and surprised her by taking her hand in mine. “I understand what you mean. You know, I’ve been thinkin’ a lot and while I still don’t fully understand what all went wrong between you and me, I have no problems understanding what happened between me and Carrie.”

I regretted my words almost as soon as I said ‘em, but Natalie gave my hand a gentle squeeze and looked straight into my eyes. “I keep hoping you’ll understand that my trying to kill myself had nothing to do with you. My mind and heart were in a really bad place and I think you kept me from sinking into that abyss for a long time. Please Col, let your own heart and mind believe me this time when I tell you that you weren’t the cause of my unhappiness. I’m learning to make peace with my own past and I’m hopeful for the future. And all things considered, the present looks brighter all the time.”

I admired her positive outlook, knowing full well that she and Jack had most certainly been to hell and back several times over. And yet here she was, as well as Riley, making the drive into Burlington to make sure that I hadn’t slipped over into the deep end again.

“I’m gonna be okay, you two.” I glanced over at Riley and gave her a smile. Her shoulders seemed to relax then and she picked up a donut and took a big bite.

“I didn’t know you knew how to iron.” A puff of powdered sugar as she held back a chuckle and I let go of Nat’s hand and leaned back in my chair, grinnin’ at both of ‘em.

“Well, I have learned a thing or two over the past few years. We men like to pretend that we’re all helpless but most of us know our way around the kitchen and laundry room when absolutely necessary. It’s just more fun to let our women look after us. I guess I’ll be lookin’ after myself from now on.”

That was an enjoyable hour or so over coffee and donuts, catchin’ up on family gossip and talkin’ about our various plans for the coming year. When they left to head on back home I remember, I stood on the porch and waved them off, feeling pretty good. All of us have had our heartaches and triumphs, yet something keeps us going. Maybe it’s just in our natures to keep moving forward, despite the odds.  

So now I’m trying to keep that in mind as I make my way into Stowe this morning. Terry’s called us all together for some sort of important presentation and I guess I’m as ready as ever to face the family and give him a listen. It’ll give me a chance to catch up with Hando and have a bit of a face to face discussion about this upcoming year.

Hopefully he’ll be open minded.

MAX SKINNER

Of course I’d help out Riley, collect her mate from the airport. No question about it. And I could do with the errand too; anything to get out of Pullo’s for a bit, I suppose. He’s a good lad, happy to have him for a business partner, and I deeply appreciate his kindness and generosity at having me over, but I am in serious need of some Skinner time. And a little physical distance between myself and Valerie wouldn’t go amiss either. Love her, don’t get me wrong, but she’s just a little too curious for my liking. She wants to have a say in bloody well everything. Even Pullo’s new girlfriend, poor old chap, I simply howled with laughter when he told me how she walked in on them and then blasted out of the house in a huff.

Driving to Burlington, I was enjoying finally being on my own, and I could let my interior monologue run free uninterruptedly.

Maybe I’m beginning to get on Lachlan’s nerves with my incessant asking about when I’ll be able to move in. He looked rather peeved last time I asked. Maybe I should leave him alone, next thing you know he’ll start thinking I don’t trust him, and he’s doing such an excellent job of it too. Hmm. Well, maybe I can think of a way of keeping myself occupied outside the house. Perhaps I should rent some office space in Stowe, set up shop there for the time being. That would get me out during the day at least. Or I could suggest to Lach he’d let me work beside him. I mean I’m not completely useless with a screwdriver, or am I?

Christ, I wish Riley had told me a little more about what her friend looks like. All she said what that she has long blond curly hair and a lot of luggage. Well, I can only hope it’ll all fit into my Porsche, or else we’ll have to have it couriered over to the Inn. I had no idea Riles had ever been to Europe… see? You learn something new about people every day. Ah. Here we are, now let’s see if I can find a reasonable parking sp… Would you look at that! If that isn’t Gerry Kennedy crossing the road. What a coincidence. Wonder what he’s doing here.

So I parked my car, walked in and looked around for Kennedy. Spotted him straight off, hugging a large coffee.

“How’s the sale of Maximus’ wine coming along?” I asked, walking up to him.

“Skinner! What are you doing here?”

“I was about to ask you the very same thing. Riley begged a favour; she had a friend flying in from Europe and asked me to collect her since her husband had slope duty.”

“A friend named Jackie?”

“Yes indeed. How did you know?”

“John asked me the exact same thing, would you believe it? He was a bit stressed that he couldn’t pick up Riley’s guest, she was giving him a hard time about it … so I said I’d do it for him.”

I grinned mirthlessly. Well what a waste of a drive this turned out to be! And it goes to show that communicating remains an art, even in the best of marriages. Gerry looked a tad miffed about it as well, and we simply stood side by side, silently waiting for this Jackie person to show herself.

It took bloody forever. At one point Gerry looked at me sideways and said, “wonder if the woman’s even on this flight.”

I looked back at him, nodded, and thought to myself, one would think he could have made a bit more of an effort for Riley’s guest, eh? Jeans and a padded plaid shirt, bloody hell, Kennedy, what were you thinking? Far be it from me to say anything though, so I just kept my peace and chewed my lip. It was taking bleedin’ forever; looked to me like all the other people from that flight out of Dublin had long since left. Perhaps the both of us drove all the way here for nothing.

But then the door glided open and out came a veritable mountain of … things. Stuff. Bags, a box that looked like it contained a bicycle. It didn’t look too stable, and from somewhere behind the wobbly mound of stuff there came the sound of foreign invective. A lot of harsh g’s were involved. The voice however was not harsh, and definitely feminine. Gerry and I shot each other a look then quickly dashed forward when she seemed to get stuck and the whole lot began to topple.

A major disaster was just avoided as I caught a guitar in a soft carrying case and Gerry scooped up an odd-looking bag. From behind the trolley emerged …

I was astonished for just a second. She looked a definite bit of all right, even though the choice of clothes wasn’t entirely my taste. She had long curly blond hair, just like Riley had said, only she had failed to mention how long, and how curly, and how … bloody gorgeous. Blimey. Face was lovely too. Rest of her … curvy in all the right places, my brain registered dimly. In the mean time she was getting well acquainted with bloody Gerry Kennedy.

I stepped in and offered my hand. “Maximilian Skinner, how do you do. It seems there was a mix-up and now both Gerry here and I appear to have been asked to fetch you from the airport. What a nuisance, eh?”

She shook my hand, said her last name (which I didn’t really catch since I was still mildy stunned by her looks) and gave me an odd stare. Was there anything the matter with my apparel? I’d put on a suit for the occasion, something not too formal but a tie nonetheless, and my charcoal cashmere overcoat. College shawl around my neck, after all, it is the middle of winter. She looked back at Gerry, gave him the once over. Then me again, another one of those quick but thorough sizing-up glances that missed nothing and that made me distinctly uncomfortable. (Why, I ask you? I’d have thought I’d be more suave than that! I must bloody well be losing my touch, going soft in the head from all that staying with Pullo and Valerie.)

Then she goes and asks the both of us about our respective cars. Well, Gerry had this utility vehicle of some sort, and I had the bloody Porsche. No way would all her gear fit into my car. So it was decided there and then, she’d go with him.

Bollocks, bollocks, fuck, bollocks.

I mean, I honestly don’t know why I was so disappointed. After all, driving back on my own had its merits. I’d have settled for her company though, even if she did look at me as if there was something wrong with me.

JACKIE

You know how you get to feel like you’ve got folds everywhere from sleeping in a chair? Especially a chair on an airplane. And I don’t mean just your clothes; I mean your whole body gets to feel rumpled. I think even my hair was extra crinkly when I’d finally extracted myself from my seat, I’d gotten my down winter coat and backpack out of the overhead locker and I’d shuffled down the aisle to the plane’s exit. My tee and black combats (I call them my Lara Croft pants because of all those useful pockets to stash secret weapons in) are actually sort of rumple-impervious, but the rest of me? Bloody hell.

Getting all my gear back proved to be a bit of a hassle, and I think I actually must have been the last one coming off that particular flight to exit the baggage claim area. Took me forever to get my bike back.

Have you ever tried to load a bike in a carton onto a baggage trolley? Well don’t. It’s nerve wracking. I nearly got stuck between the sliding doors too. I cursed fit for a sailor trying to get through. “Godgloeiende godverdomme, pestpokkedeur, sodeflikker een eind op! Klotekar, ik word hier echt helemaal niet goed van!” Good thing no one spoke Dutch at Burlington Airport, or I would have lost what little credibility I had left in the blink of an eye.

Before it got really embarrassing though, rescue was at hand when not one but two knights in shining armour helped me get through the door. Or maybe I should say one knight in a plaid shirt and one in a cashmere coat. I really feel sort of honoured that both Riley and her husband apparently have thought it necessary to ask someone to come get me, but one dashingly handsome bloke would really have been enough. As it happened, there were two. Apart from the dashing bit, they were also charmingly helpful and flatteringly enthusiastic about driving me. Oh my, this girl’s dented ego could certainly do with a bit of buffing, thank you very much.

God I feel sorry for the Skinner guy though, he had to drive all the way over for nothing. And he looked so … I dunno. He looked (and sounded) every inch the posh English bloke, but despite that, I liked his eyes. And his hair was nice, a bit floppy but nice, and when he talked to me, his mouth looked really … um, nice, too. Big lad, good shoulders and everything; shame he’s the business type. No more of that for me. Although there was something, I don’t know, something I would almost say forlorn about him. But, he’s a suit, so he’s off. Besides, he’s probably married and the father of seven little boys who all wear little suits. Brr.

Now Gerry’s more like it, as eye candy goes. He’s got the jeans, he’s got the shirt, he’s got the SUV. All my gear went in there no problem. And he was a lovely tour guide too; told me all sorts of things about the Inn, about Stowe, and about the pub he’d recently bought there. It was doing really well, he said, and he was very pleased with how well it had turned out. And then he went and said something that almost made me fall in love with him on the spot.

GERRY

“So … the guitar. You play?”

“Well …yeah. I wasn’t going to bring it just because it looks pretty. Besides, it doesn’t really look very pretty; it looks rather molested. I’ve had it for over twenty years.”

“You sing as well?”

“A little. Well, okay, a lot.”

I gave her a glance. She looked tired, but still really pretty. Top notch, actually. She gave me a happy little grin, and I went in for the kill as I took an expert turn and continued the climb up to Stowe. “Wanna play a gig at my pub?”

“What? Are you serious? When?”

“Next week Saturday? I’ve been thinking about live music, and you could be my trial performer.”

“Oh I’d love that!”

And I got a brilliant smile that could melt the snow right off the slopes of Mount Mansfield. God I’m a lucky guy. The moment I saw her coming out from behind that baggage trolley, I was sure she’d want to go with Skinner. But she looked at him funny. Add to that the fact he was driving a fucking Porsche, which may be a chick magnet on wheels but it also has like zero room for luggage, and the deal was done. She was coming with me. I’m thinking, you know, maybe Maxi just isn’t her type. I mean he’s a Crowe brother and everything, but not every girl is necessarily into that, right?

We drove past my pub and I couldn’t help pointing it out. She practically leaned out the window to get a good look.

“Want me to stop? We’re still closed but I’ve got the key.” I wiggled my eyebrows at her and slowed just a little.

“Um … maybe I should, um, maybe some other … I mean Riley … I’m really looking forward to see her again, it’s been more than two years, um …”

Okay, okay, easy, Kennedy, don’t push your luck.

“Of course you do. Sorry, didn’t mean to pressure you or anything.” I was silent for a while as the road climbed out of the town. I could tell she liked the scenery; her eyes were all over the place. “We’re nearly there; look, it’s just around the corner.”

The sight of the Inn in all its winter glory took my breath away, as it does every time, and I’m sure she was as impressed, if not more. I think I heard a small gasp come from her as I drove up to the main entrance and she took in the whole building. And just as I parked, Riley came out the door, almost as if she’d been waiting for us.  Jackie jumped out of the car before I’d even parked properly, and she ran over to Riley squealing. Riley squealed right back and they hugged and jumped around and looked at each other and hugged again.

I climbed out and grinned at their enthusiasm. But then Riley caught my eye and she sort of froze.

“Gerry?’” she said. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I picked her up and drove her here,” I said stoically, while a small worry started gnawing in my stomach. I’ve known Riley long enough now to worry when that specific little frown appears.

She looked from me back to Jackie and asked, “Okay… where’s Maxi?”

“He’s the posh English guy, right? Um, Maximilian Skinner? You call him Maxi? Huh, that’s funny. It actually suits him. Maxi…” Jackie looked a little thoughtful. “Yeah, he was at the airport as well, both he and Gerry were there. It was only that Gerry had the bigger car, so …”

Okay, so that put me in my place. And I thought my looks were the decisive factor. “Look, Riles, John asked me to go pick her up. Guess he forgot to tell you.”

For a second, Riley’s face looked tempestuous, but Jackie picked up on it and gave her shoulder a gentle shove. “Hey Riles. Don’t worry about it, eh, I’m here now! Everything’s sorted!”

JOHN

Well I hurt like hell. It was an out of control sixteen year old from Beverly Hills that did me in, knocked me over and slammed her poles into the hard packed snow just in time to catch my knee and twist the fucker backwards. Oh yeah. Ow, ow, motherfucking ow! Here’s the kicker, she’s a guest here at our Inn with her parents who seem to think I caused the fall and nearly hurt their precious little bleached blonde. Sometimes I hate ski season. Nah, not really. But today I sure do.

Fucked up knee and all, I still had to climb and descend four flights of steps twice today. I was settled on the sofa, remote in my hand and my leg propped on the big ottoman we have and I wasn’t moving an inch. A dose of meds, a beer and I’d be set. At least the drugs and alcohol would make me forget some of those damn scary stories Terry told us. But I think maybe he was right. We needed to hear that shit. The world just isn’t a safe place anymore.

I was just about to turn on the sad eyes and ask for a beer when Riley’s friend, damn pretty girl, Jackie stumbled from the guest room.

She grinned. “Hi. You must be the broken husband.”

“That’d be me. Welcome to Vermont.”

Well, I wasn’t getting a beer anytime soon unless I could train my three year-old to get it. All Riley’s attention was on Jackie as they sat at the dining room table. Then the party started. Looked like visiting day at the zoo and none of the visitors were coming to see me. Oh, Nat gave me a quick hug. Jessie offered a smile. Eva pursed her lips and threw a kiss for my miseries, but all the focus was on Jackie and the German Chocolate Cake. Didn’t look like I was getting any of that either. Guess I was a bad boy. But I couldn’t help but smile. They were giggling and laughing and frankly, pretty damn funny to eavesdrop on. Chelsea and Nathan were playing nicely on the floor and tiny Amanda Jeanne Curry was cooing in Eva’s arms.

Then Riles disappeared into the kitchen and when she came out she had a tray and was coming right for me. She set it on the table at my side and perched carefully onto the ottoman next to my aching leg.

My hands were locked on my belly and I glanced at the tray. “What’s this?”

“A glass of water, your pills, a cup of coffee, a piece of cake … and a beer.”

“Damn, you’re too good to me, baby.”

Finally I got a smile outta her, the first all day but I watched her eyes trail to my knee. It was twice its size with the swelling and the elastic bandages stretching my sweats to the limit. “Sorry, Riles. But hey, it’s just twisted, nothing bad. I know for a fact that you’ve done the same thing at least three times, right?”

“Yes, but John ... you’re forty-three years old and have a plate in that leg. This is scary, you know.”

“It’s fine. Honest. I just need to stay off of it for a while. Be back on my feet in a few days. Promise.”

She sighed then shook her head. “Better be on your feet by next Friday, John,” she said quietly.

My mind went on high alert. What did I forget? What was next Friday? Not her birthday, not our anniversary. No weddings I can think of. “Why Friday?”

“Because we have a doctor’s appointment next Friday.”

“Huh?” Oh damn. I thought I knew what this was all about. Was she taking us for fertility tests, God sakes? She leaned in and whispered in my ear.

“I’m pregnant, John.”

I pushed her back a bit, just to get a good look at her face. She was glowing and I know I was beaming. “Fuck. I love you, Riles,” I gasped before I kissed her crazy.

“Oi,” I heard Jackie’s raspy accent. “Are they sucking face over there?”

“John,” Nat laughed. “You two have been married too long for that stuff.”

“Uh-uh,” I said between kisses. “Never married too long for this.”

Riley winked and whispered again. “Let’s wait to tell everyone, okay?”

“Okay.” One more kiss and my attention was on the chocolate cake. “Now, go play with your friends, Riley.”

SAMANTHA

I volunteered for a later shift than usual, switching hours with one of the guys who’d forgotten that Thursday also happened to be his tenth wedding anniversary. Seems like I’m always the one folks comes to when they need a scheduling favor, but they’d better get ready because the next time this happens I may just have to turn them down. I notified the personnel department that I was looking to stay on permanently with the department and was hopeful that things would work out in my favor. Although tourism slows down considerably in Stowe once skiing season is over, there’s an opening in April when one of the older officers retires and a couple others are interested in staying on as well. The final decision is up to Sheriff Wade.

I stopped off at the little coffee shop in town, hoping to get a jump start on my evening’s supply of caffeine. I always pack a thermos of my own, but I like taking a moment to say hello to the various business owners whenever I get a chance. I’ve gotten to know so many of them over the past five years and it’s always nice to touch base with the changes that occur from season to season.

“Well, Officer De La Croix, how good to see you!” Maggie Arnold, the shop’s manager greeted me with a big smile as I stepped up to place my order. “You’re gonna be leaving us soon I’ll bet; March’ll be here before we know it.”

I smiled back, enjoying her warm words. “I’m hopin’ to stay put this time around, Mary. I put in my request just yesterday and with a little luck, you all may end up being stuck with me.”

“Maybe I’ll call Sheriff Wade and tell him that as a taxpayer, I expect to see more women on the force. I’ll bet I could get the other businesses to do the same; I always feel a little safer when you’re around.”

I paid for my coffee and she handed me a disposable cup and lid. “We’ve got hazelnut and vanilla almond today, unless you want a fancy cappuccino or latte.” Mary kept the coffee makers to the front of the counter where the customers could help themselves.

“That’s okay; hazelnut sounds just fine.”

I eyed the different carafes and took a deep breath, savoring the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. I was about to change my mind and reach for the vanilla almond and almost dropped my cup when a familiar voice came up behind me.

“Maybe I could put a good word in with the Sheriff as well.”

I spun around and looked up into the calm green eyes of Egan Walsh. He was dressed in a heavy denim jacket and I could see the collar of a red plaid flannel shirt. He had a smudge of dirt or dust on his cheek and I fought the urge to reach up and smooth it away.

He then surprised me by taking the cup from my hand. “Ever mix ‘em both together?”

“Uh, no, not really.” Brilliant answer, Sam! Oh why did this man make me feel all tongue tied and ridiculous?

I watched as he poured the coffee into my cup, half hazelnut, half vanilla almond. I held my breath without realizing, caught up with watching a man turn something as normal as pouring coffee into a near pornographic experience. I didn’t remember to breathe until he handed the cup back to me.

“Do you have asthma?” His eyes sparkled and I knew he was teasing me.

I lied. “I’m just getting over the tail end of a cold,” and cleared my throat for emphasis.

“Tell me, Samantha, what made you change your mind about stayin’ on after the season’s over?”

I couldn’t think of a coy, snappy answer, so I just told him the truth. “Just seems like the time to put down some roots and quit bouncing back and forth between here and there.”

“Did you meet someone special?”

I was caught completely off guard by his question. It was so personal and yet I realized that I really didn’t mind answering. Was I imagining it, or did his question suggest something more? I looked up into his eyes and remembered my dream from the other night.

“Let’s just say that I’m hopin’ to meet someone special. Until then, I’m leaving my romantic options open.”

His expression grew dark, but his eyes remained smiling. “A wise man would keep that in mind.”

I hate to admit it, but I felt my cheeks blushing. “I’m certainly hoping one in particular will do just that.”

He stepped back a little, as if my words carried some great weight. Then he nodded and  reached for his own cup as he turned to go. “You have a good day, Samantha. With a little luck we’ll be bumpin’ into one another again real soon.”

Mary stepped around from the counter and came up behind me. “You’d better breathe, girl.”

I couldn’t help laughing and Mary joined along with me. She leaned in closer so that only I could hear. “That one comes in about this time every afternoon. Just in case you were wonderin’.”

I made a mental note to stop by Mary’s shop more often.

EGAN

Terry’s seminar seemed to put the fear of God into most of us this afternoon, but bumping into Samantha at the end of the day lightened the mood a bit. Problem was the mood didn’t last for long once I collected Jacob and we got back to the apartment. Turns out that the kid had somehow gotten hold of several candy bars and the sugar rush was working a number on his attitude and my nerves.

After yet another battle over dinner I stood in the kitchen and looked at the tipped over glass of milk that was now dribblin’ off the edge of the table. A glob of mashed potatoes clung to the seat of Jacob’s chair and the rest of his dinner sat uneaten in the sink. I kept reminding myself that it wasn’t his fault; sugar affects children like alcohol does an alcoholic. You’d think I’d start getting used to this crazy behavior, but something snapped tonight and I lost my temper.

This evening I gave Jacob his first spanking. No, I didn’t pull out the belt; two good swats along his backside, but I was feeling like I’d committed a murder. The look of fear and frustration in his eyes cut me to the quick. When I put him to bed early and listened to him cryin’ underneath his covers afterwards I realized that both of us needed some help. We’re just not making any headway. His behavior continues to worsen and even though his grades are good and he behaves himself at school, there’s something very wrong happening between us.

I picked up the phone and gave Riley a call. I guess I was really hopin’ for a bit of absolution, but she fully agreed with my reaction.

“Sometimes it’s necessary. It doesn’t mean that you’re a bad parent. Kids’ll push their parents to the limit.”

“Yeah, Riles, but how much of it is simply pushin’ and how much of it is something more serious? He was so good in the beginning. I’m not a monster, but lately it feels like he can’t stand the sight of me.”

“Maybe it’s time to have the doctor do a complete checkup and make sure that it’s not something medical. A food allergy or something, maybe?”

“Riles, he’s fine when he’s at school. His teacher gave glowing comments on his report card and he only seems to have this behavior problem when he’s with me.”

“But he’s with you more than he is with any of us. You know Egan, maybe it’s just time to talk to a professional. Someone who specializes in family counseling.”

I never took to the idea of parents who relied more on the advice of a total stranger than they did their own gut instincts, but that was before I had become a parent myself. I remembered that television show The Nanny and I wished I could find someone like her to come along and help show me what I was doin’ wrong.
 
“I don’t even know where to start lookin’ for one.”

Riley came to my rescue, again. “Let me check around; I have a lot of contacts in town and maybe some of them can give me a referral.”

I looked back at the mess on the kitchen table and realized that Jacob had grown quiet in his room. I took a peek in his doorway and could see him breathing evenly; he was asleep. Then I caught the unmistakable smell of urine and realized that he’d wet the bed.

“Okay. Listen, I really appreciate you talking me through all this. I know you have your own problems with John getting hurt and all …”

“Hey, none of that. We’re family. There are places to turn to for help with this kind of behavior and it could really help turn things around for the better.”

“I just don’t know what else to do.”

“It’s gonna be okay. I’m certain of it.”

I thanked Riley again and went to get a fresh set of sheets before waking Jacob.
 
NATALIE

I really miss Jack. And, not just for the obvious reasons. The phone rang while I was in the middle of bathing Chelsea … an extremely wet, messy task, I tell you. The girl loves her baths, splashing and soaking her mommy are her favorite things. But, I love hearing her happy giggle, so I can’t get too upset at the water.

So, as I was saying, the phone rang at the most inopportune moment. Chelsea had just drenched me for the third time, and I was gritting my teeth. Usually, when Jack’s home, he’ll answer it while I finish with Chelsea, but he’s in Maine for a few days, tying up loose ends about the house, his job, the Surprise II. With not a little irritation, I answered the phone, just like Annie Potts in Ghostbusters, “Yeah, whaddya want?” Well, maybe not that rude, but I still frightened our real estate agent, poor woman.

“Oh, Mrs. Aubrey, did I call at a bad time?” Clara Fletcher’s voice was short, clipped.

“Uh, no. Sorry, Mrs. Fletcher.” I took a truly contrite tone. Clara had found the Arts and Crafts house for us, and was really disappointed that the deal had fallen through. But, she seemed to roll with the punches when Jack and I abruptly changed our plans and began looking for a farm to buy. She got right on it and called to set up a meeting that afternoon to see a farm that had just come up on the market.

Since Jack had our car, Riley let me borrow hers. I asked if she wanted to join me for moral support, but she was busy with poor John’s twisted knee and couldn’t come. So, with a sigh and not expecting much, I bundled up Chelsea, packed her into her car seat and off we went.

The farm was just a few miles outside Stowe, on a narrow, rarely used road. I almost missed the turnoff; a small sign marked the driveway to the property. I turned and followed the entrance lane which was lined with tall, leafless trees. I was impressed. As beautiful as they are in winter, they must be gorgeous in the summer and fall.

Clara was waiting for me at the front of the house. She was an older woman, about fifty-five maybe, and had lived in Vermont all her life. Short, salt-n-pepper curly hair and glasses obscuring bright blue eyes, she wore tan slacks and a brightly colored sweater under her heavy coat. She looked less a real estate agent and more a kindly grandmother. Her eyes twinkled when she smiled.

“Thanks for meeting me on such short notice, Mrs. Aubrey. Oh, and here’s that darling little one. I’m so glad you brought her.” Clara took Chelsea’s foot and gave it a good shake. Chelsea scowled. She hated people playing with her feet, and she began kicking them vigorously.

“Oh, my!” Clara exclaimed, “She’s got plenty of spunk, doesn’t she?”

I nodded, agreeing. “Yeah, she keeps Jack and me on our toes.”

Clara warmly chuckled, then led us up to the front door. “Well, here’s the main house. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

And she was absolutely right. The house was a large, white farmhouse with colonial detailing, two stories, built in the 1830’s. There wasn’t anything extraordinary about the floorplan or the décor. Just your ordinary farmhouse. But … there was just something warm and cozy about it. I felt at home the moment I stepped inside.

A little distance away from the house was the large barn surrounded by a few out buildings, tool sheds, etc. Clara said that the entire farm was sixty acres, and extended from the highway on the east out to the small river flowing at the western edge. Plenty of room to raise horses and kids! Plenty of room to grow.

After the tour, even before getting into Riley’s car, I called Jack. He encouraged me to put a bid on it now since I loved it so much, and I glowed at the trust he had for me. With Clara’s help, I filled out the paperwork and she submitted our bid. Now, it’s just a waiting game … waiting to see if the current owner will accept our offer. I’m crossing my fingers!

KIM

If I’d never had fears about traveling abroad, the meeting with Terry and Dino this afternoon certainly gave us all a frightening dose of reality.

Emily held tight to my hand as we drove into town that evening, a worried look on her face as she nervously chewed her bottom lip. “I’m never going anywhere ever again.”

“It did kinda put a damper on any plans about going to the Bahamas.” Not that I’d had any plans of the sort, but now even daydreaming about a tropical getaway took on an ominous new meaning.

“You see that show on the National Geographic Channel and you hear about it happening in the news, but it never really hits home.”

I let go of her hand long enough to turn on the radio, tuning it to a mellow jazz station. “Well, let’s try not to think about it too much, at least not right now.” I was feeling edgy enough as it was and seeing Emmie so rattled was making me uneasy. “If we ever decide to do any traveling, then we’ll give it the proper attention.”

She seemed to relax a little as she considered my suggestion and loosened up her hold on my hand. We continued the drive in silence, but as I pulled the Porsche into the driveway I caught sight of my neighbor slinking away from our front porch.

“Isn’t that your new neighbor?” Emmie asked. “What in the world could she want now?”

My neighbor’s name was Stacey LaPlant. She was 56, twice divorced, and seemed bent on the belief that her life read like an episode of Desperate Housewives. I knew this because she had stopped over a couple days earlier as I was moving in and told me far more about her personal life than I’d ever want to know. She was the kind of bird who tried to deal with the fact that she was getting older by ignoring it completely. Which wouldn’t have been so distressing if it wasn’t for the fact that she really didn’t have the figure for running about braless and wore her knickers a couple of sizes too small. Top it off with her hair being dyed a shocking shade of blue black and her love of deep red lipstick that seemed to find more of its way onto her teeth than her lips. Think Cruella De Ville minus the white stripe in her hair and you’d get a pretty good mental image. 

She pulled her green bathrobe tight about her as she reached her own front porch, then turned and waved as if we hadn’t seen her just moments earlier poking her nose up against my front window.

Emmie groaned and hid her eyes behind her hand. “You would choose to live in the house directly next door to Elvira, Mistress of the Dark.”

“Well, it never occurred to me to get a referral from my neighbors. She keeps her yard up, drives a decent car and has a satellite dish. How was I supposed to know she was one of the Undead?” 

Emmie cringed as Stacey decided to come back over.

“Yoo hoo, hi Kim!” She was wearing a pair of high heeled slip ons and she grabbed hold of the railing as she made her way down her front steps. It was amazing that she didn’t slip. “I wanted to ask a favor of you.”
 
Her whole body seemed to bounce in a distracting manner as she made her way across the icy walk, her breasts reminding me of squishy bowls of jiggling jello. Leopard print leggings above bright red toenails, her gait reminded me of a cartoon stork.

“Oh, I see you have your little girlfriend with you. Hi Effie!”

Emmie choked back what sounded like a cross between laughter and a cough as she got out of the car, rolling her eyes at me in desperation.

“Afternoon, Mrs. LaPlant. What kind of favor might you be needing?”

She reached out a ring-festooned hand and gripped my forearm in greeting. “Oh please, I keep telling you to call me Stacey. Mrs LaPlant was my ex-husband’s mother.”

I nodded and tried to move towards the house and follow after Emily, but Stacey held me captive. Maybe I was going to be needing Terry’s brand of insurance after all.      

“My daughter Cissy is taking a break from school and she’s gonna be looking for a job. I told her that maybe you could get her something up at the Mt. Mansfield Inn.”

Emily was standing on the porch and was just about to put her keys into the door when I saw her stop and turn towards us. It’s a good thing that Stacey’s back was towards her, or she may have been turned to stone.

I managed to get my arm back and tried to make my way over to the front door. “Well, we’re always interested in hiring dependable employees, so tell her to fill out an application and we’ll see what happens.”

“Oh, I was hoping that you’d help her get a position as a waitress or maybe even a secretary there in the office. She types sixty-five words per minute and knows all about the internet.”

I made my way up the front steps and was relieved when she didn’t follow after me. “Well, like I said, have her come up when she gets back home and we’ll see what we can do.”

“Oh, I just knew I could count on you! She’ll be so excited!”

She clasped her hands together and jumped up and down. I tried really hard not to watch, but there was just something so horribly compelling the way her breasts bounced with her. Jello came to mind again.

“I’ll do what I can.”

When I closed the door behind me, I found Emily laughing herself silly as she watched Stacey through the front window, making her way back across the front walk to her own yard. “Have you seen what her daughter looks like?”

I edged past her, draping my coat along the back of the living room sofa. “Are you kidding? She’s probably just as scary as her mum.”

“I really hope you’re not actually considering hiring the girl for anything.”

“Well, there’s always an opening in Housekeeping …”

Emmie’s eyes narrowed, but then she laughed again. “Don’t you dare!”  

PULLO

I finally convinced Christina Mayfair to see me again. Funny how frightening a twelve year old girl can be to her father’s girlfriend. It didn’t seem to make sense me, but all the same, they were both women, right?

Christina and I met at Kennedy’s Pub and we sat at a booth to talk. “It’ll be fine, love. I mean, Valerie understands better and besides, it was my mistake, now wasn’t it? It was me should’ve been more careful. All in all, she’s a good little girl. Soon enough, you’ll get to know each other. Be great friends too, I’m guessing.”

But Christina looked concerned. “And then what? What if you and I don’t work out? I can’t stand the idea that I might hurt her again, Pullo.”

I blinked. This just might be a can of worms I couldn’t close.

She continued. “I mean, I like you so much, really I do. I think maybe I could … maybe I already do … love you. But we have to be careful. There’s a little girl to think about here.”

“Well,” I said with a shrug. “Then we’ll have to see that we do work out just fine, you and me. Because Christina, honey … I think I might love you too.”

And she smiled and I was thinking that this could all pan out just fine. Then it happened. The scuffle must have started at the bar, but in the blink of an eye, it had spread across the whole place. I carefully stashed my lady under the table and pushed up my sleeves. I haven’t been in a real brawl in … centuries? Well, I did knock Antony’s lights out at Maximus’ house once, but it wasn’t quite the same.

WADE

The call came in just as I was shaking off everything that scared the shit outta me from Thorne’s talk. Who the hell would wanna leave town with that kinda shit happening? In my day I did my share of kidnapping. Mostly to get something back that was mine … probably someone else’s money but still, it was mine, right? There weren’t no terrorizing involved. Nobody got bad hurt, especially women. I wouldn’t be standing for that. The stuff Thorne talked about made me wanna lock Tracy to my belt loop and keep her there all the time. Ain’t nobody getting their hands on my woman.

“Sheriff, bar brawl at Kennedy’s,” shouted the pretty blonde dispatcher.

I groaned, stood and tucked my pistol into my holster. “Who we got in the station?”

“Gripple and De La Croix.”

Well that was not good. Gripple was new, could hardly shoot his gun without pissing his pants, and De La Croix was a woman. I had no choice. A brawl meant more than ten men, fists flying and probably blood. I wasn’t worried about De La Croix cringing at the sight of blood. It was Gripple might just faint dead away. Shit.

“Tell De La Croix we’re taking this one,” and I charged out the door, Samantha at my heels. We took a cruiser for the arrests, even though the station was less than a block from Kennedy’s Pub.

Whoo hee, it was a good ‘un too. It looked like Gerry was doing his best to control it, but there were at least a dozen men fighting, rolling on the floor. One of them was Pullo.  I gripped his collar and tossed him outside.

“Get Christina out,” he shouted and I fished out the little lady from under a table and shielded her as I led her to the door. “Tell Pullo to take you home, ma’am.”

She looked scared but nodded, rushing into his arms. Pullo was grinnin’ ear to ear. Guess Roman’s like a good fight as much as anyone else.

When I got back inside, no more than a minute had passed but the pub was already quieting. De La Criox had one man on his knees holding his balls and another by the ear. That one was about to cry. The place was settling and I pointed. Everyone walked out. The bar was a wreck but Kennedy just laughed.

“What the hell triggered all this?” I asked as my female officer hauled the two worst offenders out to the cruiser in handcuffs.

Gerry shrugged. Something about … I dunno … politics. I said that John Kennedy was the first Catholic president and someone else said he wasn’t.”

“So … you started the fight right here in your old fuckin’ pub?”

“Ben … John Kennedy was the first Catholic President of the United States.”

I shrugged, took another look around. “Well then maybe it was your Scottish accent that had them all confused.

“Irish, you bastard.”

I left before Gerry decided to take me on too.