JEFF WIGAND

Waking from a heart attack is very similar to that critical moment … the one immediately after I finally watched my interview broadcast on CBS. Yes, that moment, when I was suddenly emptied of everything … air, blood, emotion … emptied and dropped with an ungraceful thud into a whole new world. Yes, that is almost exactly what it feels like to wake after a heart attack. And just like then, I will be facing major changes; radical, massive, emotionally-charged changes. 

Kelly was in the room when Doctor Rice, my new best friend and cardiologist, did all his talking. It was nothing I didn’t already intellectually know and expect. I just couldn’t figure out why my intellect and my intelligence took a major ‘Y’ in the road and led me to this predicament.

Morgan Rice is a straight forward, no-nonsense sort of fellow and I appreciate that, but I seriously suspect he was being a bit harsher in hopes of impacting Kelly more than me. As if it was her fault I was laid up and twisted from the heart out? I tilted a scowl and hissed, “Lighten up, Doc. We know the score.”

“Do you, Jeff? Do you really? I’m sure that brilliant brain of yours has a grasp on it, but … all in all, this is the procedure if you want to go home tomorrow. Unfortunately, you will need to sit and listen to my lecture, whether you like it or not.”

To irritate me further, he trained his focus on Kelly, but lucky for him (I may have actually finger-flicked a cotton swab at him in my fury, it was about all my strength would allow) he was presenting the information much gentler.

“Mrs. Wigand, we’ve only kept your husband here nearly a week to take care of the minor infection he’d contracted. All is clear now and if his temperature remains normal, you can take him home tomorrow morning. As you see, we have gotten Jeff up on his feet quickly and begun working on cardiac rehabilitation with him. What we’ve been doing is training the remaining heart muscle to be able to sustain Jeff’s needs … help him to live just as he did before the myocardial infarction. Kelly … may I call you Kelly?”

“Of course,” she said shakily, but the scowl coming from me had to be unmistakable.

Morgan Rice wasn’t wasting time or pulling any punches. “Kelly, you need to understand that with the onset of a first heart attack comes a tremendous possibility of a second. Much will need to be done to prevent that.”

She nodded, her eyes wide with concern.

He continued. “I know that right now it seems hard to believe, but there are good things that come from something like this. One of them is that Jeff here will need to change his lifestyle drastically. He can no longer be sedentary, although I do realize he is very active with the school, sitting in a classroom is not what I call active. We need to control his cholesterol levels and increase physical activity gradually. He already does not use tobacco, but he must also avoid secondhand smoke.

“He will be on several medications. Aspirin of course, but also statins to lower his cholesterol, a beta blocker to help make the heart a little more efficient and an ACE inhibitor, which lowers blood pressure but also stabilizes the blood vessel wall.”

Kelly had diligently begun to take notes on a little pad of paper she rifled through her purse to locate. She nodded and he talked.

“Even with all this, he can return to a very normal life soon. But I do have one very big concern,” he said, and with this he included me in his lecture, eyeing me like a misbehaved child sitting in the corner.

“Depression,” he stated and I swallowed hard.

Damn. I was afraid he’d bring this up. Already I was fighting a desire to just fold up and disappear; already I was looking at everything like it was the end of the world. Unreasonable and foolish but … there it was.

“Depression can be a significant problem and the only way to overcome it is to make sure Jeff takes a good and serious look at his life as he’d been living it.”

A good, serious look at my life? I was facing sixty in a few short weeks. I had a beautiful young wife and a full itinerary of responsibilities at the school. What was I doing so bad? “I’m not sure there’s so much wrong with my life, Morgan,” I groaned and rolled by eyes.

“Jeff … what life?” he asked. “You forget, my daughter is in your classes and I often talk with you. Truth be told, I’m not so surprised this has happened. You came to the school to teach chemistry, then you took on Japanese. Simple, right? Several teachers cover more than one subject in the curriculum … but both of your specialties are extremely difficult. I’ve talked with Father Carroll. You have filled almost all of your free time with tutoring and special projects to help the students grasp everything. Noble … but reasonable?”

“I will not see them fail,” I hissed.

“So … you will instead fail yourself? My friend, I don’t think that’s acceptable. It’s my goal to see you return to a fully satisfactory life. Age is age and unfortunately, irreversible. You are fifty-nine. You are the survivor of a heart attack … and it’s time to think things through a little. I suggest you take a sabbatical, at least until next September. Not because you are physically unable to work, but because you are at a place in your life where you should find a little joy outside of that work.”

Kelly looked like she’d cry and I sighed long and slow.

“So,” finally the doctor stood. “That’s the end of my lecture. I strongly suggest you take my advice. Baring any complications, you can go home tomorrow. I will see you in two weeks for a follow-up appointment. Be sure to call me if you have any questions or concerns. It was nice to meet you, Kelly.”

“Thank you Doctor Rice. I’ll take good care of him.”

When he walked out, I wasn’t sure what to say. Had I already failed? Failed Kelly? Failed … everything?

KELLY

I don’t think Jeff was ready to listen to all that Dr. Rice was telling him, but my peace of mind hung on each and every word. When he mentioned that lifestyle changes were necessary, I inwardly cringed. I should have been more insistent about keeping up our evening walks and I should have been more conscientious about Jeff’s diet. I was the one who encouraged him to take on teaching the extra language courses; he always throws so much of himself onto the subjects he teaches, but somewhere along the way, it turned into more than he could handle.

I know I haven’t been as supportive as I should have; the shop takes up so much of my time and I got sidetracked from looking after him. As he got more and more involved with his classes and all the extracurricular responsibilities, I was able to extend the shop’s hours. We were both busy doing our own thing and even though I suspected that Jeff’s health was in jeopardy, I should have acted sooner. If I’d been paying closer attention, perhaps we could have prevented this from happening.

“I’ve let you down.” I took hold of his hand and tried not to start crying again. Dr. Rice had just left the room and the weight of everything just cascaded down on top of me.

“Honey, none of this is your fault.” Jeff’s color had improved since yesterday, but his voice sounded tired. 

I hated to think it, but for the first time I was very aware of the years that separated us, and not in a positive way. My strong, vibrant husband was twenty eight years older than me, and perhaps we’d been pushing fate.

“I know I haven’t made it easy on you sometimes.”

He looked a little annoyed with what I was saying, but he squeezed my hand affectionately. “I think Morgan may have been a little too forceful in trying to get his point across.”

“But he’s right. I’ve always taken for granted how you look after me the way you do. Maybe I got too comfortable with that and was selfish not to return the favor.”

“You’re speaking as if I’m some decrepit old fossil.”

“I don’t mean to. But this is my wake up call. Dr. Rice says that changes will have to be made, and it affects us both.” I thought about the shop again. If Jeff agrees to take a sabbatical, that means I’ll need to be more available. The shop has been in the black for the past three months when so many other businesses are failing. There was no question in my mind that Jeff was more important, but I had to make some hard decisions. I had employees and their well being to consider as well. “I’ll do whatever needs to be done. I want you safe and healthy, because I love you.”

Jeff gave a soft sort of growl in answer, but he held onto my hand even tighter.
 
JACOB

It started to snow again when we arrived at the counseling place. It looked just like a house that people lived in, but my dad explained that now it was an office instead of a home. It didn’t seem so scary once we were inside; a lady sat behind a counter that had a sliding window and she smiled at us when we came in.

“We just have some papers for you to fill out, Mr. Walsh. General insurance information, permission to treat, that sort of thing.” My dad thanked her and she smiled kind of funny. I caught her glancing over at him a bunch of times after he sat down, but he didn’t seem to notice. 

“Jacob, there’s a whole bunch of books and toys over there for you to play with if you’d like.”

The lady behind the window was talking to me but still looking at my dad. He glanced up from the papers he was writing on and nodded his head. “You can check it out if you’d like. Just don’t make a mess for anyone to clean up, okay?”

Grown ups always tell kids not to make a mess. I didn’t really want to play with someone else’s toys, but when I went over to look I found my favorite book, Green Eggs and Ham. My dad likes to read it to me because he hopes I’ll remember how Sam I-am got his friend to eat icky food. I like it because of the funny pictures and how the words all rhyme:

I would not, could not, in a box.
I could not, would not, with a fox.
I will not eat them with a mouse.
I will not eat them in a house.
I will not eat them here or there.
I will not eat them anywhere.
I do not eat green eggs and ham.
I do not like them, Sam-I-am.

The lady at the counter opened up her window. “Mr. Walsh, Dr. Jenkins would like to meet with you first. I’ll keep an eye on Jacob.”

My dad glanced over at me and then back at the lady. “I don’t like the idea of leaving him out here by himself.”

“He’ll be safe. You’re our last appointment of the day. Maybe Jacob and I could read to each other, or maybe draw some pictures?” She looked over at me. “I have a big pad of drawing paper and a new set of colored markers.”

I could tell that my dad still didn’t like the idea of leaving me alone, but he finally nodded his head. The lady behind the counter smiled again.

“He’s in good hands, so try not to worry; we do this sort of thing all day long and the office is pretty much child proof.”

I don’t know why grownups think that something is good if it’s child proof, but it seemed to make my dad feel better. The lady let me sit with her behind the counter and she told me that her name was Cynthia.

“Why don’t you draw me a picture?”

I picked up a marker and drew a picture of Sam-I-am. Cynthia seemed to really like it, so I gave it to her. I started to draw a picture of my dog and I was almost finished when it was my turn to visit with the counseling lady.

EGAN

Our counselor was a woman by the name of Dr. Mary Jenkins. Small and grandmotherly, I could see why she came so highly recommended; she was articulate and plain spoken, and there was just something about her that I liked right from the beginning. Maybe it was the way she listened when I told her how Jacob came into my life and how she suggested that I spend more time with the boy doing father and son things. That comment alone really opened up my eyes and I wanted to kick myself for not realizing something so simple on my own. I guess I’ve just been a little overwhelmed and Mary pointed out that Jacob was feeling the same way, only magnified.

“It’s difficult for young children to express their feelings and thoughts after a traumatic event. What you’re telling me about Jacob’s tantrums and bed wetting sounds more like a side effect of his frustration and feelings of lack of control over what’s been happening in his world than simple willful defiance. Not having a very stable home life and losing his mother so young, he’s probably afraid that he could lose you as well. I think that’s why he’s so loving cuddly one moment, then so defiant and ready to tantrum the next.”

“But he never has these tantrums with anyone but me. He follows his Aunt Jessie around like a lost puppy.” I recalled some of the stories Lachlan had told me. “He very well behaved around others.”

Mary leaned forward and smiled. “Mr. Walsh, that’s precisely why I believe that this isn’t as bad as you’ve been imagining. Truly disturbed children don’t often recognize healthy boundaries. Jacob sounds like a very sensitive and caring little boy who wants to please the adults in his life. He showed a desire to protect an abused dog, and that incident alone tells me that all these things are highly treatable through clearly defined rules with appropriate consequences if he falls short of what’s expected. It’s a process that involves the love and care of family and friends and it sounds like you already have that in great abundance.”

Her words made sense, but there was still one thing bothering me. “What about the bed wetting?”  

“It’s not unusual. You’ve stated that he’s visibly upset when it happens, and you’ve been doing the right thing by not punishing him or making too much over it. As he starts to feel a greater sense of control over his new life here with you, and if you make the suggested corrections as I suspect you will, it should eventually cease. You have to remember that childrearing is a process, with ups and downs and sometimes there’s nothing wrong with rethinking your own perceptions. It helps to be flexible; if one way of dealing with a situation doesn’t present the desired results, then think creatively and try another.”

“You make it all sound so easy.”

She chuckled. “Oh hardly. But I’ve raised five children of my own and that gives me a little bit of an edge sometimes.”

We ended our session on a positive note. Dr. Jenkins suggested she meet with Jacob once a week for the next two months, with a follow up meeting with me every other week. While I cooled my heels in the waiting room during her session with Jacob afterwards, I had a lot to think about. With the Skinner house almost finished and spring approaching, maybe it was time for me to start looking for a place of our own. Something with a big yard for a boy and a dog to play in, and maybe a nice big tree where Jacob and I could build a tree house. Thinking along that line, I suddenly had an idea.

When Dr. Jenkins escorted Jacob out to the waiting room after their session was over, he was smiling and chattering up a storm. She gave me a wink as she leaned down to give him a parting hug.

“I’ve enjoyed meeting you, Jacob. Meet me back here next week?”

Jacob nodded and his eyes were sparkling. “Yes ma’am.”

We said our goodbyes and as we shuffled back to my truck through the snow covered parking lot, I grabbed Jacob’s hand in mine. “What’ll you say we go check up on your little doggy friend?”

He looked up at me and his face was lit up all and excited. “Really?”

I couldn’t help feeling a little lit up at the idea myself. “Really.”

SAMANTHA

Isn’t it funny how things work out sometimes? I actually had a day off where I decided not to grab an extra shift. I needed the money, but I’d been pushing myself so hard for the past couple of weeks that I decided to allow myself the luxury of one day where I just took it easy.

I started the morning with giving Bella a good brushing. That was the temporary name I’d given to Jacob’s dog after bathing her the night before. I was surprised to discover just how white her coat was once all the mud and grime was removed. She was a good natured pup; I guessed her to be about four months in age, and was delighted to see how quickly and easily she took to housebreaking. She’d quickly grasped the idea that she needed to relieve herself outside, and she’d stand by the back door and bark to get my attention when she needed to go.

I looked at the telephone and fought the urge to call Egan. We’d spoken on the phone just last night for about thirty minutes, and while the tone was friendly and had hinted of possibilities, I didn’t want to appear too eager. A gal could only think of so many plausible reasons to innocently call a man, and using the excuse that you were just calling to say hello seemed a little too contrived for my tastes. But even though I was fighting the urge, I couldn’t get the thought of him out of my mind. Cleaning house, shoveling the driveway, doing laundry … nothing seemed to help me find a moment’s peace from the memory of his voice or the color of his eyes. I felt giddy and silly whenever I thought about him.

As the afternoon grew late, I decided to bake up a big batch of macaroni and cheese. I liked to bring my dinner to work instead of paying for it, and it would be a nice change from my usual leftovers of frozen chili or spaghetti. Bella made herself comfortable underneath the kitchen table with a chew toy as I put the final layer of cheese on top of the dish of noodles. I’d just popped it into the oven to bake when Bella went running for the front door, her tail wagging and barking excitedly at the sound of someone ringing the front doorbell.

I wasn’t expecting anyone, but I felt my heart skip a beat in anticipation. And when I opened the door and saw who was standing on my porch looking back at me, I knew that there was most assuredly a God, and that She must have been listening to my thoughts.

Egan grinned as our eyes met. “I hope we’re not stopping over at a bad time.”

Bella darted out onto the porch, tail wagging and tongue lolling at the site of Jacob.

“Wow, she’s so clean!” He knelt down and gave Bella a hug, who answered by licking his face. “Are you kissing me?”

Egan’s eyes never left mine and it took me a minute to find my voice.

“Well, I was just fixing some macaroni and cheese … um, come on in you guys; it’s too cold to be standing out here talking.”

Belle and Jacob bounded in through the door with Egan looking a little embarrassed as he followed after them. “We probably shouldn’t, I mean, if you’re fixin’ dinner and all.”

I took his coat and ushered him into the living room, where Jacob had already made himself at home with Bella in front of the fireplace. “Don’t be silly. I haven’t made any plans. I usually cook up a big pot of something on my day off and freeze it up for the rest of the week. But I always end up eating alone. Think you two might like to join me?”

“Samantha, I don’t want to be a bother.”

“It’s no bother, really. It’ll give Jacob a chance to visit with his dog and you can help make the salad.” Well, he was hand delivered to my front door, and there was no way I was letting him go without a bit of arm twisting to stick around for a little while. I turned to Jacob. “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

His eyes grew wide and hopeful. “Dad, can we?”

Egan considered a moment before answering. “Well, I can’t really think of nicer company. And the kid and I are rather fond of macaroni and cheese.”

Jacob was watching us closely and he jumped to his feet. “Hurray!” Bella barked as she danced around his legs, her tail wagging so hard that her whole body shook.

I turned on some cartoons for Jacob and once he and Bella were settled, I motioned for Egan to follow me into the kitchen. The air seemed charged with electricity and I swore I could almost hear it humming. I started a pot of coffee and as we settled in and got comfortable, Egan gave me an accounting of his session with the family counselor.

I saw my moment and wild horses couldn’t have kept me from grabbing it. “You know, I was thinking that it might be nice to have you two drop by once or twice a week so Jacob could visit Bella. I love to cook, but I never have anyone to share it with. I’d really enjoy the company.”

I had a horrible moment where I thought that maybe I’d just overplayed my card, but Egan just smiled.

“You know, I think I’d like that. Gotta admit that a smart man never turns down the chance for a pretty woman to fix him a home cooked meal.”

I felt my cheeks grow hot, and dammed if he didn’t notice.

His expression was delicious, but his words were even better. “You look nice when you blush.”

Oh yes, there most certainly is a God.

JACKIE

Jeff’s heart attack really made me think. About life, you know, about not taking the time to slow down and enjoy things properly. Before you know it, you mighty as well be one hair’s breath away from death. Poor Jeff, I only met him briefly at the gig but he seemed like a very nice guy. I’m so glad he’s out of danger now.

Speaking of gigs, I was on my way down to the office with my laptop, planning to go pick up my email, when I ran into my greatest local fan. Valerie. She came into the lobby all on her own, looking rather dejected, so I asked her if I could help her. She really seemed to brighten up and we chatted for a while. At first, she started to gush about the singing and she wanted to know when the next gig would be, but after a while, I managed to steer her away from the subject and ask her what was wrong. She shuffled her feet and looked down, but I didn’t give up and eventually she told me she’d come looking for Maxi. She said she missed him; all he ever did nowadays was get out of the house as quickly as he could. Plus, her father had a new girlfriend. And it wasn’t that she didn’t like Christina, and it wasn’t that she didn’t want to see her father happy, but … she felt lonely.

I immediately suspected, from the way she said his name, she had a bit of a crush on Maxi. A hunch that was confirmed when she frowned at me and asked why I was wearing his scarf. I was honest about it, told her we’d swapped and that I just really liked the thing. It was big, and soft, and warm. And it smelled good, but I didn’t tell her that. Instead, I took her over to Andy in the kitchen, who immediately went to work scrounging up something delicious for her to soften the blow: she’d come all this way for nothing. Maxi wasn’t downstairs working on his office, and I had no idea where he was.

I left Valerie in the excellent care of Andy and stuck my head in to see Kim and Emily both hard at work. Apparently, it wasn’t easy getting a good on-site techie, and Emily regaled me with a few more excellent horror stories of applicants she had interviewed. I grinned and offered them my help once again, for the time being at least. Kim seemed to warm up to the idea more and more.

Then, I yanked the long cable out the spare computer, spooled it out, snuck into the quiet breakfast room and sat down. I hadn’t checked my email since before the weekend, and in the ensuing consternation surrounding Jeff Wigand, email had been the last thing on my mind.

I opened my laptop and to my surprise, I found a card sitting on the keyboard. A card, not with some tacky print on the front, but a creamy, thick, paper rectangle, handmade by the look of it. Expensive, by the look of it. A hole was punched in one corner, and threaded through it was a blood red silk ribbon. On it was written in green ink:

Valentine invitation
Please attach the ribbon to the notice board in the lobby, and expect to be picked up for lunch the following day, at noon exactly. Dress casually.

In good Valentine tradition, the card wasn’t signed.

What the hell? How did it get there? And oh my God, it had sat there all this time, and the poor guy who had put it there hadn’t seen his ribbon at the notice board! He must have thought I was completely heartless! Would it be … Gerry? Gerry who had sent me all those beautiful roses? The flat upstairs had been practically inundated in roses once both Riley’s and mine had arrived, and we’d giggled and put them all together in one enormous vase. Riley knew who’d sent her hers, but she’d happily speculated who could be my admirer. Her first guess was Maxi, and to be completely honest, when they were delivered, my heart gave a little flutter and I hoped … but no. John quickly disposed of that idea when he informed me with a big grin that they were from Gerry.

Gerry’s lovely. Don’t get me wrong. He took me out to a very nice dinner last week, and then he sent the roses. Apparently he really likes me. And John didn’t waste any time telling me how good a match we’d be in his eyes. So … yeah. That’s nice, I suppose. I’m really flattered, I mean, he’s a good-looking guy and all.

But would he go to such lengths, slipping a card in my laptop? Or wait, maybe he had enlisted John to help him. Yeah, that had to be it. Well, there was only one way to find out who it had been, so I untied the ribbon from the card, marched over to the lobby notice board and speared it to the cork with an appropriately red pin.

When I showed Riley the card later, she frowned first and grinned right after.

“Green ink,” she said enigmatically.

MAX SKINNER

After a few days of futile waiting, I had given up. I really didn’t think it was going to work. It was a stroke of luck that she left her laptop unguarded in the office last Friday, and I didn’t have a proper card with hearts on or whatever, so I had to improvise. But come on, it couldn’t have been that appalling a suggestion? How bad can a lunch invite be? Did I phrase it wrong? Was the ribbon too much?

Shite.

I drove to Stowe to get my paint and brushes and assorted other stuff, and as I heard later when I spoke to Andy, I just missed Valerie when she came looking for me. Poor thing, maybe I should take her out to lunch instead. Well, maybe I will. When I came back into the lobby however, with my cans and brushes and gloves and everything, I saw it straight away. The ribbon. I’d been looking at that notice board like a nutter ever since Saturday, and I even came in Sunday afternoon on the stupid pretext that I left my bloody Treo in the office downstairs, just to see if she’d …

She hadn’t then. But now she had. Bloody hell.

So I had things to arrange for the next day. First off, talk to Andy. Have him cook us the most wonderful lunch he could manage on such short notice. He was happy to though, happy and willing, especially when I let him in on who it was for.

“Good choice, mate,” he said with a wide grin and a slap on my shoulder. Sturdy lad, Andy.

Then, I had to talk to Lach and the lads, and I even went so far as to pay them to stay away. Call it a belated Valentine present. Then, I had to get pillows, blankets, firewood, candles … I was a regular busy little bee, but it was all worth it when the next day at noon exactly, I drove up to the Inn’s entrance and saw her waiting for me there. Her eyes lit up when she saw me. I swear they did. Made me feel rather strange and … gooey inside.

I got out quickly, nearly got my coat stuck when I slammed my door, ran around the car to open the door for her. She was still wearing my scarf, and she gave me a really lovely smile right before she got in the car that made me stop and stand there like a bloody idiot for a minute or so. She must think I’m completely daft. Only when she called my name did I remember to shut the door on her, get back in myself and drive the both of us to my future home.

On the way, I explained how it was an old farmhouse, what plans I had for it, and how for Lachlan’s company it was a showcase project the boys could sink their teeth in. And of course I proudly mentioned my own recent contribution, however modest.

She seemed rapt; asked all sorts of smart questions. And when I showed her the actual place, she was clearly impressed. I of course saved the living room for last. Before I had gone to fetch her, I’d started a healthy roar of a fire, spread out the blankets and cushions in front of it, lit the candles and arranged the food. All the way to the Inn and back, I kept having horrible visions of a candle falling over and the whole place going up in flames, but for once I had the gods on my side and there were no disasters. There was a small gasp. From Jackie, when she saw the arrangement.

“Is that for us?” she almost whispered.

“Yes. Do you approve?”

“Wow, Maxi, it’s beautiful! I thought it would just be, you know, lunch, somewhere out, maybe at one of the places higher up the mountain or something, but this is … God, you’ve gone through so much trouble!”

She sat down among the cushions and looked lovely in the firelight. And we chatted, about books, and music, and films, about work, and … relationships, or the lack thereof. It was highly enjoyable and informative … she’s single and doesn’t seem to have had much luck with men. The food was of course splendid; trust Andy to come up with dishes that consisted entirely of pink and red ingredients. Salmon, several types of red fruit (where he got them this time of year is a mystery to me), blood grapefruit, he even managed to do something inventive and very tasty involving carrots. We had a beautiful red wine to frame it all, and within the hour, I was leaning over and feeding her small bites off my fork. She accepted them with closed eyes and hummed her delight, and I know I should probably be ashamed of myself but I had visions of her there on those cushions, covered in nothing but all that glorious hair, eating raspberries that I fed her … slowly … one by one … from my fingers to her lips …

I’m a bloke, all right? So sue me.

It was far too soon for my liking, but around four, the fire began to dwindle and twilight was creeping up on us. Time to take her back to the Inn. In the car, we were silent, but comfortably so. I thought I detected a hint of regret from her as well, but I could very well be mistaken; however, when we reached our destination and I clicked open my seat belt to get out and open the door for her, she turned to me, gave me another one of those smiles that seem to have me incapacitated instantly, and she leaned over to very softly kiss me on the cheek.

“Thanks Maxi,” she breathed in my ear, her cheek almost, but not quite, touching mine, “for a lovely lunch.”

I turned my head. What else could I have done? My nose grazed her peachy skin and she smelled divine, and then she moved as well, and before I could gather one rational thought in my head, I felt her lips under mine. She leaned in a little, and I managed to capture her top lip, and I felt her tremble. Or was that me?

It lingered. It tingled. I can feel it tingle now, thinking about it. I wanted more, I wanted … Bloody hell, I wanted everything, the whole world, the whole universe I wanted, in just that tiny instant, and at the same time, I didn’t want anything at all. All I wanted, all I needed was right then and there.

And then she sat back and left me blinking in confusion for a full minute, before I remembered to get out and open the door for her.

LACHLAN

I didn’t really mind Skinner asking us to cut out early. The house is almost finished and I suspect he had a few plans of his own that required some privacy. He didn’t go into detail, but admitted that a female was involved. All I can say is, good for him. Nothing like a little quality time with a soft warm sheila to warm up a chilly winter day.

I was thinking along the same lines myself as I stopped off at the mini mart and bought a couple pints of Ben and Jerry’s; one for me and one for Jess. She’s always fussing about trying to lose her remaining baby weight, but I’ll be honest, I like her figure right now just the way it is; a little fuller and softer in all the right places. She thinks I’m crazy, but back in my day, the women seemed a bit more proud of their curves. Sometimes it’s just a really nice feeling for a bloke to put his arms around his girl and be able to grab a nice handful of luscious bum. 

As luck would have it, her Volvo was gone when I pulled the truck into the car port and I couldn’t help but feel disappointed; so much for a little quality time of my own with my wife. Perhaps she got tired of being cooped up inside for the past several days and decided to run a few errands. Feeling a little dejected, I walked around back to the mudroom door. As always, Kahlua was sitting on top of the washing machine waiting for me.

“Hello, mate.” I gave his chin a scratch and he meowed in answer, his tail flicking as he rubbed against my hand. “Looks like we’ve both been abandoned.”

He jumped back onto the floor and went scampering off towards the kitchen. I’d just taken off my work boots when I heard the scuff of slippered footsteps.

Jessie stood there in the doorway, wearing a pair of faded jeans and one of my old sweatshirts. Her voice sounded pleased. “Is everything okay at Skinner’s house?”

I suddenly felt better, grinning like a dirty minded school boy when I noticed that she wasn’t wearing a bra. “Seems he wanted to do a little entertaining. We’re almost finished anyway, so I gave the rest of the blokes the day off. Does Enid have your car?” I wanted to make sure we were all alone before I set my plan into action.

“She said she was getting cabin fever and made a hair appointment in Burlington.”

“That’s a long way to drive just to get your hair done.”

“I know.”

The look on her face was unmistakable and I felt the blood start to thud in my ears. “Where’s Manda?”

“Napping. I just put her down about ten minutes ago. I was going to make a snack, but your coming home gives me a better idea.”

She reached for my hand and I pulled her closer. “Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”

She pressed her hips into mine and I reached around to grab a handful of her bum. It felt so good that I reached around with my other hand. Talk about a double dose of heaven. “You know I am.”

I didn’t remember about the ice cream until later. We were in our bedroom snuggled up together beneath the blankets, and I was letting Jessie work me up for a second go. I briefly considered running downstairs real quick to put it in the freezer, but when Jess slid her warm body down between my legs, well, a man has to recognize his priorities.

COLIN

I never really considered myself as much of a manager or a leader of men. I always acted pretty much on my own. Even when Hando and I joined forces, we’d always considered ourselves equals. We were just two blokes who loved cars and figured out a way to make a decent living because of it. So here I am now; funny how things work out sometimes. 

Victory Motors was disbanded. I made good on my promise to give those who weren’t offered jobs with Road Runner Motors a healthy severance package and the promise to help a few others find jobs with different clubs. I wasn’t a magician, but I had a few reliable contacts who were always interested in hiring on qualified mechanics and a few others who owed me favors. It was time to make good. 

That only left one loose end; Richard’s sister. I agreed to hire her on as a mechanic because Richard wouldn’t have agreed to be our driver otherwise. I didn’t know what to expect; not that it mattered, especially if she was as good as the kid boasted. I reckoned that there was a bit more family loyalty behind the claim than actual fact, but I decided to do my best to accommodate her. We could always use a good secretary for administrative matters, and I hoped that she could type … just in case.

Problem was, she didn’t show up with the others when I called them all together for our first official mandatory employee meeting. No one seemed to know where she was, not even her brother, and she hadn’t bothered to call. I didn’t like the way this all was starting out. 

I introduced myself to everyone and told them all what I expected; hard work, dependability, and dedication to the job.

“This is the big time, mates. With Richard taking over as our primary driver at Bristol, we have a company name and a legacy to maintain. You all know the drills; take care of your business at home so you can concentrate on the job here with the crew.”

I felt a little like a military commander giving a pep talk to his troops, but the faces looking back at me were all lit up with excitement. Many of them had been with Oscar for years, and he ran a tight lineup. The bloke was well known for his happy, easy going nature, but anyone who ever fucked up on the job quickly learned that behind that gentle exterior was a man who didn’t have the time or patience for petty excuses or horseplay before a race.

I opened up a general question and answer session when I was finished with my speech, and started to get a feel for these blokes. All together, we now had two ace mechanics, one fabricator and a new engine specialist. I only hoped the last bloke would get along well with Hando.

After I’d said all I felt I needed to say, I opened up the cooler and handed out some tinnies of VB, Richard took one sip and his eyes lit up all funny like.

“What is this stuff?”

I grinned. “Aussie ale, mate. I’ve got a connection with one of our sponsors.”

We talked shop for about an hour afterwards, and after I cut everyone loose for the night I took my time closin’ up. There’s just something about a quiet garage that sets my mind at rest, but the quiet was short lived. Someone pulled up in their car outside and a few moments later they were pounding at the office door. I went out to investigate, not at all prepared for what waited on the other side.

Standing there dressed in a pair of faded, ripped jeans and cheap high heel boots was a sheila with a wild mass of long dark curly hair and darker eyes. She looked either exhausted or stoned.

“You lost love?”

She glanced at me kind of funny. “I’m looking for Richard Fuentes, but you must be Colin O’Brien.”

The hair on the back of my neck prickled. “You have me at a disadvantage then, because I don’t know your name.”

“My name is Vicki Fontanelle, and I’m Richard’s sister.”

“You’re a little late, love. And not very good at winin’ points with your new employer.” I’m not sure why I answered that way, but there was something about her that set off warning signals. I can’t explain it, but every so often a bloke comes across a sheila and all he can think is keep the hell away. 

But she was a fighter, “Look Mister O’Brien. I’ve just driven thirty miles in a rental car with a fussy trannie and some shmuck stole my wallet and cell phone this afternoon when I wasn’t lookin’. I know full well that you hired me only because my brother wouldn’t drive for you otherwise, so cut a girl a little slack, okay? I don’t make a habit of showin’ up late, but sometimes, shit happens. I am sorry.”

Bloody hell. WHAT have I gotten myself into?

GERRY KENNEDY

Haven’t heard a word. Two dozen roses I send her and not a single peep.  Oh man, this is not good. I’m sure she knows it was me by now; John will have said something. Trust him to be discrete about something like that! Fuck’s sake!

I’m really happy the electricity situation got sorted out so fast and that we’re up and running again, business as usual. Now all I need is to get my hands on a proper PA system that sounds good and preferably doesn’t attempt to blow up my business, and I can get Jackie in again for another concert.

I rang her just now. Rang her twice already, but she’s got her mobile switched off. Wonder what that means.

JOHN

For three days she’s been awful quiet. Kinda strange and jumpy. All signs that maybe, just maybe … no, most likely … I’m in some kinda trouble. Not that we always fight or anything; me and Riles, we’re on a real comfortable, even keel for like two years now. It’s been more than nice. But this? This has me a little worried.

She’s been working hard but you know, first trimester and all, she has slowed down a bit. Catch her sometimes taking a nap in the middle of the day and even though she’s not showing yet, I recognize the signs. Time for a little TLC, ay? But tonight, there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to get her to settle. No way, no how. She rushed around, getting dinner ready, then she fussed with Nathan, playing with him and getting him bathed before putting him down for the night. Man, I thought this was finally it; a little down time for me to do some exploring, see just how much trouble I was really in.

She came from the nursery, walked into the living room, sat on a chair, popped back up, walked into the kitchen, stood still like she couldn’t remember why she went in there, then came back. She sat at the desk, got up, went for a cup of coffee then stood in the middle of the dining room for like five minutes. It was enough for me.

“Riles, come in here and sit down.”

Damn. She did. Sat at the edge of the chair cushion then set her cup down and was back up again.

“Riley Biebe. Sit … down. I wanna talk to you.”

“Sure. Okay.”

Again with the edge of the seat thing. “Baby, you mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

I shrugged. “I dunno. You been pretty distant lately.”

“Sorry. Are we going to see Jackie play next Saturday?”

“Gerry didn’t even get the equipment yet. You think he’ll be having the show?”

Now it was her turn to shrug. Oh-oh. Maybe this had to do with … “Hey, you’re not pissed at me because I’m pushing for Jackie and Gerry to get together, are you?”

She laughed. “No. But I really think Maxi’s a better match for her. Look, whoever she chooses is fine by me. All I want is for my friend to have a great time while she’s here. But … Maxi is the better match, no two ways about it.” Her eyes sparkled.

“We’ll see.” And again, she popped off the chair and I growled. “Jesus, just sit still a minute. Riles, are you worried about something?”

She blinked.

“About … the baby?”

“Of course not. You heard Doctor Conklin. Everything is fine and dandy. No. Not worried about the baby.”

Damn, now she wouldn’t look at me. “Sweetheart, I know you. You’re jumpy as hell and something’s making you nuts. Talk to me, will ya. Don’t make me worry like this.”

Finally she sat, this time a slow melt deep into the big chair that could swallow her up. She sighed long and hard and finally she let her brows curl. Her lips pursed then she sighed again.

“John. I am kinda … worried … about something and I’ve been wanting to talk to you about it. I just haven’t gotten it all straight in my own head yet.”

“Maybe together we can get it straight. Talk.”

“Okay,” she sat up and fluffed her short, dark hair.

Damn, I love when she does that, but this time I was a little scared about why.

“Do you remember when Daisy was attacked?”

My brain screeched to a stop. This wasn’t where I thought we were gonna go. Was that what had her so crazy? “Riles, it turned out fine. You’re not worried something like that can happen again, are you? We’ve tightened security and Antony’s back on the job. Everything’s gonna be fine and everyone’s going to be safe. Don’t be worrying yourself over something like this. Not now. Not in your condition.”

“My condition?” she snorted and grinned. “John, I’m pregnant, not suffering a terminal disease. And no, security isn’t what’s bothering me. I’m sure we’re doing everything we need to do. Just … just hear me out, okay?”

I nodded, wondering what the hell she was trying to get at.

“That night, Daisy said that two men helped her. Now … you remember that show I really like? The one about the vampires in Louisiana?”

Fuck, my head was starting to hurt. “God sakes, Riles, can we stick to one subject here?”

“Trust me, we are. Remember that show? TrueBlood on HBO?”

“Sorta.” Vampires aren’t my thing, unless they’re playing left wing for the New York Rangers.

“Okay. Now, I want to show you something.” She went to the television and popped in a tape. “This is the security footage from that night. Watch carefully.”

I did. And yeah, those guys kinda looked like a couple of those vampires. “So?”

“Look closely, especially at the blond one, then watch all the way to the end.”

I did. And just like I remembered, something happened to the tape and the two guys vanished. “So, it’s a glitch in the tape. What are you getting at?”

“The blond one, his name on the show is Eric Northman. That’s him,” she whispered after rewinding and pausing. She pointed and repeated. “That’s … him.”

My guts were rolling but my brain was on logic mode. “So, are you thinking those two actors came by the pub for a drink and stepped in to help Daisy?” A guy could hope, right?

“I’m saying there’s no glitch or flaw in the tape, John. They simply disappeared into thin air.”

I stared at her. Pregnancy does weird things to women, ya know. No point in leaping into the super strange right along with her.

“In fact, I know it’s him because I’ve seen Eric Northman here again myself and Daisy has seen him three times … Maxi even saw him.”

Okay, I was deep into the weird right beside her. “Where? When? How? Fucking why?”

She shifted to sit beside me on the sofa. “Listen John. I’m sorry I’ve taken so long to tell you about this but I just couldn’t get a grip on it, not until Maxi explained his encounter. Please don’t be mad at me.”

“Just tell me what you know. I retain my option to be mad … later.” Why did I have that sick feeling in my gut? “Just tell me everything.”

Well, for a jumpy pregnant woman who couldn’t get it all straight in her head, she sure seemed to have the facts real clear. It seemed that this vampire had gotten an offer from some witch who had located a Portal and sent him for a little visit with his buddy. Northman apparently found it so intriguing that he proceeded to figure out how to make the passage without her help and was popping in every now and then; showing up right in my fucking pub storeroom, God sakes.

Time to see what I could do about this. For the next five nights I sat in the damn storeroom and waited, locked in there and wondering what the damn vampire would do to me if and when he showed up. I had Antony rig another monitoring camera in far corner near the ceiling, just to make sure I might get help if I needed it … oh, and Daisy was strictly forbidden to go in the room after dark.

ERIC NORTHMAN

The last thing Pam said was, “Just be fucking careful, boss”. I bobbed my brows and grinned then the amorphous saturation of the Portal passage melted me into the Pub storeroom. When I opened my eyes, I was thinking that this trip I was exactly where I wanted to be … and I knew I had at least twenty minutes. Seldom did Daisy go ten minutes without needing something from the room, so I’d at least get in a little visit with the pretty barmaid. My main goal for this trip was to perfect pinpointing my destination.

But … sitting in a chair leaned back against the locked door was a man. He had wavy dark hair and light eyes that weren’t looking very welcoming. I snorted then grinned. “You must be John, the owner of this place.”

“Yeah, that’s me.” He stood and tried to look threatening. Did he know nothing threatens me?

I chuckled. “What can I do for you, John?”

“You can stop fucking around with the Portals, Eric.”

Oh yes, he said my name with far less mortal respect than I’m used to, but I felt like giving him a little leeway. After all, I was the intruder … and without even asking permission. But of course, there was that technicality. It may be where John and his pretty little wife live, but it’s also a public place. So … as I see it, no foul. “Well, John … as I understand it, I have as much right to utilize these amazing Portals as you do.”

“You aren’t getting it. I don’t use the Portals. Fuck, what I do is avoid the fucking things as much as possible. They’re dangerous, man. Real dangerous to a lot of people. You can fuck up and maybe end a mess of lives here if you keep playing around like this.”

Rational. And, I must admit, he really wasn’t presenting a threat, he had no sharpened stake in his hand or anywhere around that I could see. But, I can’t permit him to be making demands on me. “Mortals live very brief, small lives, John. Whatever danger my using the Portals might cause, just might be part of the master plan. Besides,” I sighed, strolling along the shelves and mentally noting a few interesting items I should consider stocking for Fangtasia. “As I see it, I’ve presented no danger whatsoever. In fact, I’ve done not one but two big favors for you already.” I stared directly into his eyes. If I wanted to, I know I could have glamored him, brainwashed him into believing I never showed up or better, that I agreed to behave and stay away. But … where would the fun be in that? “Two favors, John. I would think you’d be thankful. I saved Daisy from a would-be murderer … and just last week, I delivered a tiny representation of the goddess Minerva to Marc Antony in Sonoma. I believe that he has not returned to his responsibilities here at the Inn, he is on his way … and all thanks to me.” I glanced up at the new security camera in the corner of the ceiling and lilted a bow to the Roman General.

“Yeah, and well, that’s real good of you. Thanks … but man, you can’t keep messing with the Portals! I’ve got a big family and we could all be affected. Not to mention … the damn thing can swallow you up and kill you too.”

I laughed and leaned casually against the wall. “I’m told that since my show has not been cancelled and my story is not ended … there’s no threat to me. So, why should I stop my exploration?”

“Just use your head! Don’t you know how much is at risk in this world and in yours?”

I pondered that then shrugged. “Use your head. I am vampire. I was a Viking warrior. I’ve lived over a thousand years, John. Life that long can get very … very … boring. This discovery of a mystical Portal through time and space and across universes is the most entertaining thing I have experienced in centuries. You’re asking a lot of me. But …” I sighed, realizing the time passing and returning to my arrival position. “I can see your concerns and I assure you I have no intentions of harming anyone here. I’ve met your wife, I like Daisy … very much … and even that cocky Brit wasn’t such a bad guy. I drink blood before I come here to assure I won’t have a need … and I’m very careful not to cause undue alarm when I arrive. Seems I’m already doing a lot not to ruffle your feathers.”

John had begun pacing. The distress was evident on his face. Humans. Laughable. But … I admit to having a soft spot for the ones here.

“All I can say is stop, Eric. The Portals are nothing to fuck around with. They take revenge like nobody’s business and even you don’t wanna be on the receiving end of that kinda fury.”

I rubbed my chin. I have always loved a battle. And a battle with something as maddening as the Portal could be a hell of a lot of fun. On the other hand, a battle with John and his mortal friends can be messy and bring out a mob against me whenever I try another visit. “So, am I to understand you’re asking a favor of me?”

He thought about that, nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, a favor will require a returned favor, you know.”

“Okay … okay … tell you what. Eric, you stay away from my Inn and my family and … and … when your show ends, your story ends … I promise you can come back. I’ll work something out to help you acclimate. Deal?”

John Biebe is a very funny man. I knew he was making a promise he couldn’t possibly keep. A mere mortal couldn’t promise anything where the Portal was concerned. There would never be a guarantee that I’d land in Vermont when my story ends. Hell, there’s no guarantee I’ll end up anywhere when it’s all over. But there was something intriguing about his offer. I chose to spend my remaining moments exploring it. “Help me acclimate? And how to you propose to do that? Your world has no synthetic blood to sustain me. Your world has no mainstreaming, no Vampire Rights Amendment. I’ll be forced back into the shadows with the other, lesser vampires.”

“Vampires?” snorted John. “What vampires?”

“Oh yes, my friend. There are vampires in this world. I crossed paths with one in Sonoma in fact. And right here in lovely, quaint Stowe Vermont, you even have a Werewolf. I believe you call him the local EMT? He drives the ambulance.”

I was pleased with the blanched paleness that swept over the man’s face. But to his credit, he gathered himself together quickly. Cleared his throat. “Well, uh, don’t worry about that. If you end up here … I’ll figure something out. It’s a guarantee. You’ll be safe and as protected as you can be. Just … just quit fucking with the Portals. I’m begging you.”

Mortals usually beg with tears and on bended knee. John Biebe was begging with his beating heart. I sighed, checked my watch. Thirty seconds left. I finally rolled my neck. “Alright, here’s what I’ll promise you. If I use the Portal, I’ll stay far away from you and your family. Far away from Vermont. If I come across any of your brothers, I’ll steer clear. And … if I find myself eventually banished through the Portal to this place … I will hold you to your word.”

“I don’t think I trust you.”

“You shouldn’t.” And I was chuckling as I vanished.