RILEY

When LizBeth and I found my apartment quiet when it should be bustling with workers who had apparently been dismissed, we sat cross legged on the floor with John and Kevin. I had no idea what was going on and a million things ran through my head. Needless to say, what came next wasn’t on my list of concerns. It was worse, way worse.

John started talking about the Portals and my mouth dropped to the floor. Why on earth would John talk about the Portals to Kevin? Panic rippled through me and I stared at my husband who just continued, explaining the phenomenon in more detail than I’d ever heard it explained before. I shifted my eyes to Kev and LizBeth and could see the disbelief on their faces, but to their credit, they didn’t interrupt.

John went on to explain where every one of his brothers came from, the connection with the actor, Russell Crowe, and the twist of things that brought Dino, Stephen, Pullo, Antony, Juba and Gerry into the fold. He mentioned a few Kevin had never met; John Nash who designed our greenhouse dining room; Jim Braddock who no one has heard a word from, the new one from that film Body of Lies who probably hasn’t arrived yet. He mentioned Johnnie, East, and everyone else who doesn’t get involved here in Vermont. Then my husband went quiet.

I had inched my way closer to John and reached out to hold his hand. His grip was tight but his body seemed relaxed, like this whole exposure was inevitable. None of the Stowe town residents knew about this. Not the mayor, not the shop keepers, no one. Just the family. It was our deep, dark secret … and now it was outted to two of our dearest friends. It didn’t matter why John did this. I know my husband, and he’d have never said these things without a damn good reason.

LizBeth looked like a deer in the headlights but Kevin’s face was unreadable. Finally he cleared his throat.

“So, you’re what? Not real?”

“Fuck yeah, I’m real. As real as you, man,” John snorted. “I’ve got a wife, a son, another baby on the way … this Inn. I’m real.”

More silence.

“And Crowe? He know about this?” Kevin said quietly.

“Yeah, he knows. We all think it’s better to just … I dunno … leave it be. He has his life, we have ours. Not his fault, you know.”

LizBeth ran a hand through her long red hair. “I’m confused. Were you always this way?”

“Huh?” John chuckled. “Yeah, Lizzybelle. Except when I lived in my film. Then I woke up here.”

Kevin stood and began to pace. “And you’re okay with this?”

“What choice do I have? Like I said, I can’t go back. I have a good life here, a great life. The question is, Kev … are you okay with this?”

Silence.

My heart ached. I guess I always knew this was going to happen at some point. “You guys can’t tell anyone,” I said. “No one.”

“Who the fuck would believe me?” Kevin scowled.

Oh yes, we were facing a major crossroads here. If Kevin couldn’t accept this truth, we’d just lost something special. Good, solid friendships. Memories of Kevin and LizBeth raced through my head; Kevin sticking by us to get the Inn finished when John was so hurt after the avalanche; LizBeth holding my hand through my cancer scare; their beautiful wedding here at the Inn. The shoulder they’d been to us and the laughter they’d brought to our life. Would we really lose that?

I wanted to suddenly change the subject and I did, so abruptly that both Kev and John blinked. “So … what’s the ETA for reopening my Inn, guys?”

Just then, Ben walked in. Looking around but wearing his official sheriff’s face. His Stetson was in his hand. Now what?

BEN

I sure as hell didn’t wanna be the one to do it. Neither did the Fire Chief. He showed up at my office this morning and gave me the bad news, then left me to serve the papers. Driving over to the Inn I tried to find me a silver lining, but there weren’t none. This was bad.

Took a deep breath before I walked into the apartment. I nodded to the ladies and turned my eyes to my brother. Cleared my throat. “John, got me some bad news for ya.” I passed the paperwork over to him and Kevin looked over his shoulder.

“What the fuck?” Kevin got all riled up and I shook my head. He cooled and stepped away from John.

“Jesus,” Riley gasped, finally getting her look at the notice. “We’re shut down?”

“Yes ma’am. Seems the Fire Chief has reason to believe the electrical system here at the Inn is a serious fire hazard. He’s givin’ you two weeks to have it fully redone before he comes out to inspect.”

“You’re talking thousands of bucks, Ben,” John pushed back his hair, knowing damn well there was nothin’ I could do about it. “And … another two weeks without business. Our insurance isn’t going to cover this kinda loss.”

Riley sat on the floor and started to cry in her hands. Kevin was pacing and John just gave me a glare from hell.

“I served the papers. The place is cleared for workers and repairs but not for guests or livin’ in. I’m sorry.”

What else was I gonna do? I turned to leave, but already Kevin was on his cell phone making arrangements for the work to be done. Seeing Riley cry like that broke my heart. I guess there was a lot of business to be lost. It was the end of the season and it seemed tourism falls off drastically until next winter. I got some money. Gotta buy me and Tracy a house, but I’ll give John whatever I can to help out.

SAMANTHA

I had called Egan the morning after the fire at the Inn, knowing full well from the Sheriff’s report that no one had been hurt and that he and Jacob were now staying with the Currys in town. I thought it was the right thing to do; after all, we had established a friendship and it was normal for one friend to check up on the other after something like this, but he’d sounded distant and wasn’t much in the mood to talk. Okay, to be honest, the conversation was dammed awkward and I felt like a bit of an idiot afterwards.

I tried to tell myself that I was overreacting. I mean, considering the circumstances, it wasn’t really out of place for someone to seem distant and preoccupied, and maybe I’d just allowed myself to believe that we were a little bit closer than we really were. That notion made me feel rather depressed, because if it were true, then my normally reliable radar detecting a man’s interest was seriously out of kilter. I tried hard not to dwell on it and concentrated on other things; the tourist season was winding down, my house needed a serious session of spring cleaning, and my beloved dapple grey was finally back with me again. If I didn’t have a man in my life, at least I had my sweet dear Ooljee to keep me occupied.

Egan and I had set a date to go riding, but it was cancelled after the fire and when he didn’t bring it up during my phone call, I realized it was probably best to just read between the lines and let it go. Maybe once he and Jacob got settled I’d give it another try, but for now, I wasn’t ready to risk another humiliating telephone encounter. I mean, I’ve got my pride, such as it is.

After a few days of nursing my bruised ego and long visits with Ooljee to help calm the sting, I found myself with a little time on my hands one evening and decided to take Bella for a quick walk. It looked like she was going to end up being more of my dog than Jacob’s if things continued going as they were, but that part I didn’t so much mind. She had a sweet temperament and was quick to learn, and I found her to be excellent company. I snapped on her leash and threw on my jacket. We were almost out the door when my phone rang. I almost let it go but I had the strangest sensation of something almost pushing me back inside. Okay, I could take a hint; I was supposed to answer this call. No problem. 

I felt my heart skip a beat when I saw the readout on the caller ID; Egan Walsh. Bella somehow sensed her walk was going to have to wait and she plopped down at my feet with a resigned sigh.

“Hello?” Did my voice sound too high pitched? Why did I suddenly feel so warm? Oh yeah, I was wearing a jacket …

“Samantha.”

His soft honey growl was so intoxicating that I almost forgot to breathe.

“Hello, Egan Walsh. How are you and Jacob doing?” Okay, that didn’t sound so bad. Calm, caring, definitely not desperate.

“Far better than expected. Luckily Lach and Jess have a really big house.”

“Well, that always helps. I mean, you’re not all crowded in to a living space that’s too small. Are you able to get any privacy?”

He laughed and I could hear a TV playing in the background. He must have been calling from home. “As much as can be expected. Jacob seems to be taking it all in stride, but I reckon I’ve come to a conclusion about something, and that’s kind of why I’m calling. I need to ask a favor.”

Uh oh. He was going to ask me to babysit. Not that I minded, not really. I mean, Jacob’s adorable and I really like him. But I felt my heart sink as I realized what this meant and I tried to keep the disappointment from seeping into my voice.

“Sure Egan. Anything.”

“Um, I want to check out some houses here in town. I’ve been planning on buying one all along, but there were other things more important at the time, and now just seems like the right time and all, and, well, I need the help of a woman’s input. Would you be interested in helping me? House hunt, I mean?”

Now this I’d never expected. It wasn’t quite what I was hoping for, but I’m no fool. He was telling me that he trusted my opinion. I felt some of the barbs from the stinging of my earlier insecurity fade away.

“I’d love to help you. It sounds like fun.”

“I’ll treat you to dinner afterwards; no fast food or anything like that, but something nice and sit down-like. Are you free this Thursday?”

As a matter of fact, I was. “Thursday sounds great.”

“About eleven AM okay? I have a few places picked out and I’ve already contacted the realty agents.”

“Eleven sounds fine.”

A short silence followed, but his soft growling voice once again broke the din. “Sam, I also wanted to apologize for being so short with you when you called the other day. I was just a bit out of sorts and it wasn’t because I didn’t want to talk to you or anything like that.”

I actually felt the knot of uncertainty that had been gripping my gut for the past several days loosen I felt as if a huge weight had been removed from my shoulders.

“No need to apologize, Egan. I understand.”

I really did.

EGAN

The sound of her voice was even better than I remembered. She has this quirky habit saying both my first and last name whenever we exchange greetings, and it comes across as if the promise of something more lurks just beneath her words. I could almost imagine her on the other side of the phone line, brows furrowed just slightly and the corners of her lips fighting a smile. I like this image.

I’ve sensed Samantha’s interest for a few weeks now. It’s not all that hard to notice; her eyes light up and she touches her hair and face a lot whenever we’re together. It’s actually kinda cute. She’s all business when she’s in uniform, but underneath she’s all soft curves; the kind a man likes to have near him on dark cold nights.

If I had met her back in the days before I knew of Jacob’s existence, I’d be busy just thinking of all kinds of ways to see her as often as possible. I’d be doing everything I could think of to convince her to share my bed and I’d try to find ways to make her stay there with me the following morning. But things are different now, and I’m a bit awkward at learning the rules where women are concerned in this new way of life. Right now, my son comes first, no questions asked.

But I want to spend time getting to know her better. I’d like to be able to invite her over to join me and Jacob for a home cooked meal when we get our own place and maybe after a while of doing that, it will lead to something more. She doesn’t strike me as the kind of woman who’s only interested in a brief fling; she’s strong, compassionate, capable, and I like the way I feel when I’m around her. She realizes the kid and I are a package deal and shows no signs of being scared away. I know that inviting her to come house hunting with me probably isn’t what she considers romantic, but I also knew that she was off on Thursdays and it gave me the perfect opportunity to find a reason to spend the whole day with her without feeling the pressure of being on a date and what may or may not happen afterwards.

Although, if she somehow gets the notion to invite me back to her place afterwards, I’m gonna have to somehow find the strength to say no. For now.

JACKIE

Staying with the Aubreys was born out of necessity, but it turned out to be a wonderful experience. Nat and I got on brilliantly and bonded instantly as we took care of the little ones. Nathan stayed with us while the Inn was being patched up at lightning speed, and Riley and John moved back in ahead of anyone else.

Nat’s husband, Jack is an interesting case. He is big and blond and jovial, and very British and very old-fashioned. He lives by the clock, wants his dinner right on time, and he has a brilliant mathematical mind. He also has this wild idea that he wants to rescue that troublesome orphan teenager. Eddie.

It looked like a disastrous plan when I saw the boy for the first time, but Jack’s commanding presence and the undivided attention he lavishes on the boy like a bright spotlight seems to change him from within. It’s as if a light gets switched on inside him. A light of pride, of ambition, of belonging. I wouldn’t say that he has changed into a teenage angel overnight, but the difference is remarkable.

And I got the distinct impression that Eddie… likes me. It’s flattering, in an amusing sort of way.

Sorting out Jack Aubrey was not easy, but it suddenly became a lot easier when John dropped by with my guitar a couple of days ago. It was a little sooty but completely unharmed, which relieved me to no end, and after I had cleaned and restrung it, tuned up and played a bit, Jack came out of his study with a specific gleam in his eye. At first, I didn’t know what it meant, but then he called out to Nat and dug in cupboards and closets until he came out with a violin case. He got his fiddle out, tuned by ear, listened with his head cocked until he had figured out the chord progression then launched into an absolutely brilliant solo.

I have found the ideal means of communication with Jack Aubrey. His notion of pop music is, alas, scant at best, but he’s equipped with a pair of very well developed musical ears (one of them is a little deformed but I don’t dare ask what has caused it) and all he needs to do is listen for a while and he susses out the tune no problem. We’ve played together a couple of times

The only thing that kept gnawing at my mind was Max Skinner. I had heard through Riley and Nat that he had been away on a business trip, but I had hoped he’d give me a call, or maybe even come by. But so far it had been quiet.

Gerry had been on the horn though. And he had a very good idea.

GERRY

The whole town of Stowe was shocked when there was a fire at the Inn. Everyone knows the Biebes and they’re well respected. I felt especially involved, although I’m not part of John Biebe’s, eh, family like for instance Sheriff Wade. Or Skinner, for that matter. Nevertheless, I’m not exactly not part of the plan either, eh? I’ve got a bit of an in between status. Just like Antony.

All the blokes pitched in fixing up the place, and I was thinking about a way to do my bit according to my involvement. You know? Don’t want to sit back and do nothing; then again, don’t want to impose.

And then I had an idea. Pretty good idea it was too, and it played right in to my hand in every possible way.

How about we organize a benefit concert for the Inn? I was sure Jackie was up to it, and when I rang her, just as I’d expected, she jumped at the opportunity. And not only that: as it turns out, Jack Aubrey, another one of John’s brothers, plays the violin and they had been jamming together. Jackie suggested he’d play as well, if he were up to it.

Well, fine by me, mate. The more the merrier. Just as long as we got some cash in, and I would have a valid excuse to take Jackie out to dinner, like I’d planned, before Skinner cut me off at the pass.

Not this time. Ha.

JESSIE

For the last two months I’ve been planning my dream garden, balanced somewhere in between caring for an increasingly active baby and looking after an overly exhausted husband and a house with an ever growing set of permanent guests. Burpee seed catalogs and umpteen garden design books checked out from the Stowe library litter every available space in the family room and kitchen, competing for space among Lachlan’s carpentry manuals and aviation magazines. Throw in Amanda’s baby toys and blankets with Jacob’s superhero DVD collection and Egan’s real estate listings, and you have a the wonderfully cluttered chaos that makes up a well lived in home. And I haven’t even mentioned my mother’s collection of romance novels!

I stood on the back porch examining our great expanse of empty yard, warm tea cup in one hand and Amanda’s baby monitor in the other. She’d been down for her mid-morning nap for several minutes and I could hear her soft breathing as I watched a handful of marauding Robins chase off an angry tree squirrel from the suet feeder hanging from one of the trees. A brightly colored cardinal perched on the fence with a cocked head, seemingly debating whether it would be worth the ensuing ruckus to crash the soiree.

I imagined a vegetable garden in the south part of the yard, off over by the old garage that Lachlan was converting into his dream workshop. Near this I wanted my little greenhouse and just beyond the reach of the massive Monkey Puzzle tree’s branches I could see my longed for pergola. Off to the north side of the yard, Lachlan planned to construct a play area with a sturdy swing set and jungle gym as time and warmer weather permitted. He’d already lined up Egan and Jeff Mitchell to help with the task and I have a feeling that several more able bodied brothers will end up being recruited before too long, lured by the promise of a barbecue afterwards and lots of available beer. I reminded myself to make sure the first aid kit is well stocked before hand.

I love this old house and the surrounding land. It’s the craziest thing, but I have the strangest feeling that we’re all being watched by someone or something unseen. Call it ghosts or spirits, but I’ve felt this sensation from our first night in this house. Add Jacob’s telling his dad just the other morning that the house liked having them here and the suspicion took greater shape. There’s something here, and it’s somehow centered around that Monkey Puzzle tree. I’ve often imagined seeing a figure lurking near from the corner of my eyes, only to disappear when I turned to look; Lach’s friend Badger had gone on for hours several months back about a homeless man camping near the tree the evening before our wedding, but he’d been drinking heavily and no one really paid him much mind. Jeff’s mentioned this mysterious homeless gentleman on a couple occasions, and I’ve often caught Valerie standing on the porch just as I am now, deep in thought as she focused her vision on something just beyond its branches.

I guess all old homes have their history, and Vermont is full of both. They don’t make a habit of tearing things down to make way for shopping malls and condo projects like they do in San Diego. I fell a bit protective of this old house, so maybe it’s not all that unusual that any lingering spirits may feel the same.

I guess I kind of lost track of time. My tea had grown cold but I drank it anyway, absently mulling over my plans as I tried to imagine the yard coming back to life with grass and flowers, and the sound of children playing and happy laughter. I felt a small thrill at all the things I hoped to accomplish this year, but the sounds of Amanda stirring came over the monitor and brought me back to the present. I glanced at my watch; had I really been standing out her for close to an hour? I shook my head to clear away the cobwebs when the sound of Amanda’s squeal of laughter brought me back to the present. I heard the creak of footsteps across the nursery floor and fear seized my gut; the house was empty save for the two of us; Kahlua was sitting in the kitchen window, seemingly asleep as he basked in the late morning sun and my mother was out visiting friends. Amanda squealed again and I took off running, throwing back the door as I darted through the family room and up the stairs, my heart beating wildly as I found myself in her nursery doorway.

There was no one there besides Amanda, who was cooing happily at the airplane mobile that was suspended above her crib as it spun around lazily. I heard the low music box melody of Mary Had a Little Lamb as if off in the distance; as I strained to listen closer it disappeared all together. I felt a shiver shoot down my spine as I went over to the crib.

My beautiful daughter kicked her feet and gurgled as our eyes met, her cheeks pink and rosy and her hair slightly damp from the warmth generated during her nap. I could smell her damp diaper and I reached and took her into my arms.

“You’re up early,” I cooed, feeling the comforting familiarity of her little body as I pressed her close. She made a hiccoughing noise as I moved over towards her changing table and grabbed a diaper from the shelf. It was then that I realized that her bedroom window was open about three inches.

I clearly remembered closing it right before I put Amanda down an hour earlier; she’d been fighting the sniffles and I’d turned the radiator up just a smidge to keep her room snug and toasty during her nap. As I stripped off her sleeper I realized just how warm her body was; the room had been far too warm. Had something realized this and opened the window? The notion wasn’t so much frightening as unnerving; I know that what I’d heard were clearly footsteps, and Amanda had apparently been aware of a presence, and something or someone had spun her mobile around in an attempt to entertain her. And then there was the music I’d heard …

I took a deep breath and considered. So okay, perhaps something really was here after all. So far, nothing bad or truly frightening had happened, but maybe, if this house did have a lingering spirit or two hanging about, perhaps it was just keeping an eye out. Maybe this was just its way of letting me know that it meant no harm.

Maybe I’ve just been watching too many reruns of Ghost Hunters.

MAXI

I’ve been looking at my treo about ten times a day, contemplating ringing Jackie. I don’t have her mobile number but I know where she’s staying. I could actually be ringing Jack for that matter, but any way I look at it I’d need a good excuse. Jack can be a financial fool from time to time, and I’ve whispered in his ear in the past a couple of times not to invest in schemes that looked too good to be true. Things that look too good to be true, usually are.

What was I saying?

Oh yes. Jack can be a fool sometimes, but I didn’t think I was going to fool him with a feeble excuse. Nope; I’d need a good one. Just wish I could think of one.

It’s not like me, being timid. Timid is for the meek, and the meek don’t make any money. I don’t know what it is, but it’s almost as if, since the moment I bought Jackie the little present (and it is just a tiny, tiny thing after all) in DC, I don’t know how to proceed. I bought it on a whim, and just the thought of finding a way to give it to her in such a way that she’ll actually accept it, makes me go…

Timid.

Shite.

I’ve got one thing going for me though. I’m nothing if not tenacious.

KEVIN BOYER

I’ll cut the cost as far as I can. It’s not like I need to make a killing on John’s loss. I know … really know … the electrical system is up to snuff at the Inn. I know because I put the damn thing in when I refurbished this damn place. I also know that when a Fire Chief as a bug up his ass, all you can do is comply. No cutting corners, but I will be calling in favors. The Biebe’s can’t afford this. What looked like a banner year for profit had just gone south.

All their employees will be out of work, but knowing John, he’ll give the management staff vacation pay. The rest will need to go on unemployment for the few weeks. Shit, that money won’t even show up until they get back to work. Lotsa people will be tightening a belt for a while. The Inn employs nearly eighty Stowe residents.

All that aside, all the work planned and organized, I had other things to deal with. This whole … from a movie … thing has me weirded out, big time. I live in a logical world. This just doesn’t make a damn bit of sense to me. My brain keeps saying ‘forget about it, John’s a good friend and always has been’, but my guts are saying ‘get the fuck outta here, this is bullshit and I’m no idiot. I ain’t buying it’.

What was going to win? My head or my gut? Hell if I know. For now, I’m just the hired help and nothing more. I’ll do the job and get the Inn reopened. Everything else is going to have to filter through until I can get a grip on it.

From a movie? What the fuck?

JOHN

I told you all I’ve been journaling, right? It’s kinda a mental health thing I started. Not sure if it’s helping or not, but I can’t sleep. Three AM, everything’s quiet at the Aubrey farm and I took my laptop down to the silent dining room and booted up to start an entry.

What’s worth losing a friend over? Isn’t that a lesson you learn as a kid, God sakes? But, did I have a childhood? Or did I make it all up? What did I make up that made me the man I am? The husband? The father? The friend?

The way I see it, I had no choice. But maybe I should’ve been up front with Kevin from the start, I don’t know. Truth? I was scared. We were all scared. We’re all still scared. I’m worried about my family and what happens to them if this gets out. Worried about my brothers. Always worried that one of them are gonna get into some kinda trouble that requires DNA investigation. That really scares the shit outta me. After all, it would all lead back to Crowe and this ain’t his fault. It wouldn’t be fair to fuck up his whole life. So, me and most of us watch things real close.

Telling Kevin everything could have been a really bad thing. It might be a good thing. Who the fuck knows? All I know is he asked and I felt it was important to come clean. I felt he deserved it. After all, I really don’t have many friend outside of the family, and within it, there was only one brother I was close to. Really close to. Bud. He’s gone. Been gone for years. Maybe I was relying on Kevin to fill that gap. I don’t know.

Was this worth risking everything and losing a friend? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe it’ll be the ruin of everything. Fuck, I wish I knew.

For now, Kevin is still acting like a good friend, he’s moving ahead to make sure we can get up and running again. But he’s not talking to me, won’t even look at me. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Whatever. If the bastard wants to skulk off, no skin off my nose. I’ll just miss him.

No one likes Hockey like me, except him. No one can drink beers like him. No one can make me feel … human. Yeah, that’s what it is. Knowing him makes me feel human and normal and okay. I hate to lose that.

He had his electrician call me today. They’re already deep into the work and are shooting for finishing the electric line replacement before the two weeks. That guy must owe Kevin big time. He said that Kev will be trying to get the Fire Chief to do an inspection earlier than the two weeks. That’d be nice. The Inn would be open.

But … what will I have lost?

“What are you writing?”

I turned to see Riles, wrapped tight in her robe, her eyes red and Nathan on her hip. Real quickly I closed the window on my screen. “Just some stuff. He okay?” I reached for my son and he sniffled into my neck as he cuddled.

“He must have had a bad dream,” she said, sitting beside me at the table. Fuck if we didn’t look like displaced refugees. Jack and Nat have been great, taking us in and all, but all I want to do was take my family home. If Kevin’s buddy does his job fast and the Fire Chief feels like being nice, maybe I can do it soon. For now, Nathan is sleeping in a strange bed, my wife is crying almost constantly, and I can’t sleep at all.

And on top of all this … I have to start working on my mayoral campaign soon. Election’s in May. Could things get any more complicated?

I leaned over and kissed my wife. “Let’s try to get back to sleep, ay?”