Aftermath (7 page)

Emma's Story

“Your friends miss you already, huh?” Aunt Barb asked after my phone buzzed.

It was the fifth text from Melissa in the first thirty minutes of our drive to Westport.

“Yeah,” I said, and then confessed my friends were headed to Lake Bell for the annual senior trip. I told her about the party at Lewis’ house, but intentionally left out the part about staying overnight and the fact that Dad and I argued about it the morning he died.

“Hmm… I never realized Kathy’s son was your age,” Aunt Barb said. “Or, that he went to your school, for that matter. You know, I should call her.”

I shot her a sideways glance.

“It might be good to surround ourselves with people. You know. Get back into some kind of routine.” She focused on the road, looking at me occasionally out of the corner of her eye.

“Ah, yeah.” I was anxious to see Melissa, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to spend a lot of time with anyone else. Even Matt.

Was that wrong of me?

Aunt Barb dialed before I realized what she was doing. She juggled her phone against her shoulder as she drove. It was obvious she reached Kathy Warner as one-sided conversation filled the air. Aunt Barb seemed sad one minute and then laughed the next. Clearly, they were friends. Was that was good for me or not?

“We’ll stop at home for a few minutes. Then I’ll drop you off at Kathy’s, okay?” Aunt Barb asked after a series of phone calls.

There was a brief silence after the word “home” fell off her tongue. She appeared to grip the steering wheel tighter for an instant before she spoke again. She probably hoped I didn’t catch on. “Kathy said a few of the kids were staying overnight at her house.” Aunt Barb looked at me briefly, and then turned back to staring at the road in front of us. “The rest are staying at cabins. Did you know that?”

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure she saw me.

“She said you could stay at her house. I understand Melissa will be there.” She changed lanes, and then continued. “I don’t mind. I mean, I’ll probably go into the office. I might work late. You know… having been gone a few days.”

“Yeah, okay. That would be great.” Wow. Did she just say I could stay overnight? Dad would have never offered that.

We rode for a few minutes in silence before Aunt Barb turned on the radio. A familiar beat filled the air and put me in a better mood. It was my favorite song. I wanted to turn it up, but I didn’t dare touch the control. Glancing over at my aunt, I noticed she was mouthing the words. When I started singing, she smiled. She turned up the volume, and we sang loudly. I had no idea Aunt Barb knew the words or liked my kind of music.

Maybe living with her wouldn’t be so bad.

The thought came and left quickly, leaving me with a layer of guilt. Was I betraying my dad? When Aunt Barb smiled again, I knew Dad would want it that way.

The ride to Westport went faster than I expected. Our conversation and singing off-key helped pass the time.

When we reached Aunt Barb’s house on Lake Bell, I let Chester out of the SUV. Back home, he knew the boundaries of our yard and didn’t venture outside of them. I wasn’t thinking when I let him loose in new surroundings.

Chester ran nose to the ground around the side of the house and out of sight before I could get his name off my lips. “Chester!” I took off in pursuit. He was never a bad dog, just adventurous. By the time I caught up with him on the lakeside of the house, he finished his job and ran to the patio door at the lower level. Aunt Barb must have heard me because she was already opening the door for both of us to come in.

Inside, Chester was just as nosy. He went from room to room, though Aunt Barb didn’t seem to mind. “He’ll settle down. He’s just curious,” she said when I tried calling him back. It wasn’t the first time he’d been at her house. We brought him every visit. I just never paid attention to what he did, before.

Aunt Barb’s house looked the same as it did the last time I was there. Except that this time, things were different. “Put your suitcase upstairs,” she said while she flipped through the mail on the granite kitchen counter.

“Okay.”

I put my bag on the floor between the side-by-side guest rooms. After Mom died, Aunt Barb painted both rooms and replaced the furniture in the one where Dad slept. She didn’t want him to be overwhelmed with memories of Mom was what she told me when I asked why. Dad’s room on the right was painted a textured denim shade that resembled the weaves in his favorite worn-out jeans. The wooden-framed bed was replaced with a black, wrought-iron headboard and dressed with fluffy, white bedding and sheer curtains that blew with the breeze.

By comparison, the room we called mine had lavender walls and bedding with delicate purple and blue flowers that Mom used to call Laura Ashley. It took me a long time to realize that was the name of the bedding, and not the room’s name. After Mom died, I wouldn’t let Aunt Barb replace the comforter. Mom liked it too much.

I sat on the floor between the doors and drew my knees up to my chest. The Laura Ashley room seemed suddenly juvenile or old lady-like. Add a lace doily and I’d be in a grandma’s house. I almost laughed aloud with the thought.

Dad’s room was crisp and clean. I used to climb in his bed before the sun came up on mornings we stayed here. He’d tell me to go to sleep, and then roll over, facing away from me. A few minutes later, I would hear his gentle snore and knew I could put the television on low. The massive, black armoire housed more than just a few drawers for his clothes. Aunt Barb placed a TV in it for nights Dad couldn’t sleep. I overheard her tell him. Sometimes, I would hear muffled laughter and guessed he was watching some talk show well after the house was dark and quiet. That was right after Mom died, and I figured he was lonely without her.

I walked into Dad’s room and ran my hand along the thick wood trim of the armoire. It was heavy and masculine, yet full of details in its trim with dents and scratch marks that made it looked loved. I pulled open a drawer, checking what was inside. There, beside a clean set of sheets, was a dark gray t-shirt. I touched it gently, as if it would break. Tips of letters in navy-blue ink peeked from around the fold. I didn’t need to open it to know. The words read
Just Do It
. Dad wore it with swim trunks almost every time we visited. It was his favorite shirt. He had it for years. The band on the neck was frayed and the letters were starting to fade, but he didn’t care. I suggested he get a new one. He didn’t listen. He probably didn’t realize he left it behind.

Suddenly, I didn’t feel so alone.

“I’m running to the Inn for a minute,” Aunt Barb called from the stairs. “I’ll be right back. Will you be ready?”

Her voice snapped me back to reality, and I quickly shut the drawer. “Yeah… yeah, sure,” I answered, stepping back into the hall. “Aunt Barb?”

“Yes?”

“I want to stay in my dad’s old room. Is that okay?”

“That’s fine, honey. That’s completely fine.”

I fought back tears, as Aunt Barb gave me a hug.

Ben's Story

My phone hummed on the counter in a low pitch no human could hear.

I glanced in its direction and tilted my head. A transparent hologram appeared, hovering over the island in the gourmet kitchen where I sat.

“Good morning, Commander,” I said out of respect, and then sipped my morning coffee. I glanced at the time on the microwave. 8:42.

Benjamin
. I heard a voice in my head and saw the dark-skinned man nod in the hologram image above me. Ezekiel Cain was smoking a pipe. His feet were propped up on a mahogany desk with a wall of shelves behind him. The room didn’t look familiar to me. “I trust you’ve settled well and are fully prepared for today.” His spoken voice was deep. Freshly polished auburn-tanned shoes reflected the light from his desk lamp.

“Yes, sir, I am.”

“Cut the protocol. It’s me,” the commander said. His casual, relaxed tone didn’t fit with his formal white suit with black pinstripes. He was an odd character to say the least, always in disguise, changing appearances regularly because he could. He preferred generational periods, reflecting on past eras and lives he lived or visited.  “Are you ready?” His voice turned from rigid military tone to friendship. He was a century older than I was, if not more, though he rarely spoke of age.

“Yes, I am.” I nodded, glancing up at him, my nerves a bit on edge. “I’ve been briefed… staff’s in place. I’m ready.”

“Well, you’ve had time to monitor and train. I suppose the soccer camp was nothing compared to The Farm.” Commander E, as he was called by his direct reports, chuckled. His mind filled with combat exercises I endured under his training program, and then turned to images of me in a soccer uniform. He had a subtle way of pushing recruits to be the best agent they could be. Not everyone succeeded, but everyone respected him. A few called him the agency’s filter because he weeded out those incapable of handling difficult situations.

I laughed. “No, nothing by comparison!” Even though he was known as one of the toughest officers The Farm ever had, he was like family to me.

“Seriously, seventy years is a long time, Ben.”

“I know.”             

“I’m sorry you were on assignment when Elizabeth surfaced.” Commander E’s eyes looked droopy, as if the topic aged him twenty years. “Off the record?”

I nodded.

“I was torn about pulling you. I knew how much she meant to you. The officer in me couldn’t do it. You were making such progress in your mission… more than any other operative was. I couldn’t jeopardize that.”

“You did the right thing.” I could read his thoughts, and I knew he was sincere. It wasn’t often that Commander E released his shield. When he did, his genuine personality was exposed. “Elizabeth had to finish her contract, and she agreed to take on a new life immediately following her conditioning.” Her new life as Emma Bennett. “I saw her file.” It was filled with video clips and short briefs. The images burned in my mind. I had no idea the suffering she endured during her remaining years without me. It was no wonder she took her own life when she did and transitioned much earlier than scheduled.

There was a short pause. I saw images of Elizabeth in Commander E’s mind while she prepared for departure to this earthly world. She looked timid, her eyes sunken. Not like the Elizabeth I knew, the fun-loving, spunky girl that captured my heart back in 1931. Then again, she just finished years of counseling, part of her rehabilitation between lives, and was headed out to a troubled contract already outlined for her. She knew what she was getting into. She knew ahead of time that she’d be orphaned.

She just didn’t remember that now.

“You’re a good agent. One I want to get back on assignment as soon as possible.” Commander E flashed a grin and I felt the shield fall back into place, camouflaging his thoughts.

I nodded.
Not too soon, I hope.

“I promised a year or two, Ben. Nothing more. There’s something brewing out west. The forecast looks like a recon squad will be issued in about eight to ten months. Probably need an operative undercover soon after that.”

I was silent. I knew my time was limited, but I didn’t like hearing the deadline before the project began. Couldn’t another operative go?

“And, Benjamin? One more thing. Don’t use compulsion unnecessarily again.”

Damn. I thought I got away with it.

“I’ll overlook it this time. Don’t make me regret it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Make the most of your time with Emma,” Commander E replied. “You’ll be there for her through this aftermath. Then you move on and let her finish her life. I’m counting on you for this next job. I’ve got SOs in place. They’d make a good team for you.” A female voice in the background distracted him. I watched him motion his hands to someone out of sight, then direct his attention back to me. “Take advantage of your time.” 

I knew he wouldn’t share more on the topic, so I dropped it. “Where are you exactly?” I asked, realizing the time and hearing music in his background.

“I’m out west.”

I raised an eyebrow. Commander E was always secretive with his agents, though more open with me.

His shield lowered again. “I’m in Honolulu.”

I glanced at the time, less than fifteen minutes passed since he called. “That’s about what? Four in the morning by you?” To say Commander E was social was an understatement. He was known to party all night. He’d tip a few back and enjoy the company of a lady, or then again, sometimes several ladies. They were all human, and he was not. Back then, a few guys talked about less-than-complimentary actions. Rumors flew about relationships he had that were kept under the radar. In the end, it didn’t matter. No one got hurt.

A scantily dressed brunette carrying an open bottle of champagne sat on Commander E’s desk in the hologram above me. Her high-pitched voice whined, “Aren’t you done working yet? I’ve been waiting for you!”

Commander E cleared his throat and nodded in my direction, though the sudden tilt was over before her human eyes could register the movement. He wished me well, shielded his thoughts, and shut down the link. The hologram hovering in my kitchen vanished in an instant with a sound only my immortal ears could hear.

Before he shielded me, I read his thoughts. He was encouraging me to cross that invisible barrier between professional and personal. Other agents crossed it. I knew that. Molly did it all the time and never thought twice about it. I used to tease her about her love-‘em-and-leave-‘em attitude. But, she was right—no one got hurt. Everyone moved on.

I didn’t know if I could do that to Emma.

Knowing our time together would be limited meant potential heartbreak for both of us if I let her back into my heart.