Pretense (5 page)

Mackenzie nodded. Delancey was good, and she was proud of her, but she didn't want to be practiced on.

Without further ado Paul led the way back to the apartment. He told Mackenzie to head to her room and then found Delancey. The three ended up in the girls' room and were sequestered behind closed doors for quite some time. Indeed, it got so late

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that they appeared in the kitchen, teeth brushed, and pajama- clad, to kiss their mother goodnight. Marrell was happy to see them getting along, but not for anything would she ask what happened.

Another ten minutes passed before she looked up from her magazine to see a white handkerchief waving around the corner.

"May I come in?" Paul stepped around the wall and stood at the edge of the kitchen, his face open and relaxed.

"Yes, but don't expect me to notice that white flag. I'm still mad at you." This was only a little bit true.

"Don't you want to know what I said to them?" Paul asked as he sat down across the kitchen table from her.

"No. I'm afraid you told Mackenzie that she would be a great soldier and to keep up the good work."

"I did tell Mackenzie that she would be a great soldier, but I would never tell her to punch people."

Marrell finally looked at him. "What did you say?"

"I just talked to her about control. And when I had them together, I told them what I would do to their backsides if in the future D.J. starts throwing kicks or Micki starts delivering punches."

"Did you know that D.J. had been kicking at Mackenzie?" Marrell sounded as confused and upset as she felt.

"No, and from what I gather, she's been doing it since she began to train."

"Micki's never said a word."

Husband and wife looked at each other. Both of their daughters were talented and special, and at times one of them was a little old beyond her years.

"The thought that they could hurt each other really scares me. We live in such a violent world, Paul, and I've wanted to spare them as much as possible."

"And you're doing a good job. D.J. cried. I'm not sure she realized how much Mackenzie hates it when she kicks toward her. And when Mackenzie said she was sorry, she meant it."

Marrell nodded.

"Still mad?"

"Furious."

"Maybe we should kiss and make up."

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"Maybe we should."

After eleven and a half years it was still fun to flirt with her husband, who was already headed around the table. Marrell's heart warned her that she had better enjoy it now. In a month's time, when he was getting settled into a new posting, he would be distracted with the new job.

San Francisco

The Bishops' first day in the city that was to be their new home was spectacular. The June sun was warm over a cloudless sky, and for once the wind was tame. Planning to follow directions, they stayed on Highway 101, which swung them down Nineteenth Avenue and actually curved around part of the Presidio before their exit.

"Will we see the Golden Gate Bridge?" Mackenzie wanted to know. When her teacher had learned where she was moving, her class had done a short study on San Francisco. Mackenzie had been most impressed with the bridge.

"I think we probably will," her father told her, "so keep your eyes open."

Moments after he said this, they drove off the highway, sat for half a minute at the light with dozens of other vehicles, and then drove down Nineteenth where the sights grew a little more interesting.

"Look at that," Delancey said, pointing to a man on a corner. His blond Afro appeared to stand a foot off his head, and his face was painted in bold colors. He played the violin as if he were on stage at the Met.

"Don't point," Marrell reminded her, but her eyes were glued to the man as well.

Had they not been so distracted, they might have noticed the lush greenery along the way. A large variety of trees and bushes sprang up on either side, and in the midst of this lay their new home.

They were stopped at the gate, where Paul surrendered his papers and was handed a map and shown directions. The guard saluted and was very courteous, and the new officer at the post thanked him before moving on. Marrell's and the girls' heads turned this way and that as they tried to take it all in.

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They hadn't been told much about their new dwelling, but the base administration knew that Paul had a wife and two daughters. They had lived in some base housing that was very nice and other base housing that they were only too happy to leave. Their apartment in Texas had been very comfortable, but a third bedroom would have been handy.

Several minutes passed as Paul found his way around. Marrell and the girls waited in the car while he reported to the head office for his keys and directions, but it wasn't long before he was back in the car, a 1972 Mustang, consulting the map. After a few moments of study, he headed the car through the hilly terrain of the Presidio yet again. The girls' eyes were huge as they tried to take it in all at one time, but before they could anticipate much more, the car came to a smooth halt on Infantry Terrace. Their father had no more shut off the engine when they bounded out the doors. This was their new home and it looked
big!

"Well, this is the place," Paul said to Marrell.

"It's beautiful, Paul."

"Yes, and big. They're expecting us at the hospitality barracks tonight, but shall we go inside and see?"

Marrell smiled. "No time like the present."

Paul picked up her hand and led the way up the stairs to the door. He tried to use the key, but the girls made this impossible.

"I'm going to be first, D.J.!"

"You are not!" Delancey answered back, but both girls suddenly found themselves grabbed by the shoulders. When Paul had repositioned them behind their mother, he bent down and spoke firmly to them.

"Your mother is going to be first, and I don't want to hear another word."

He turned back to the door when both girls nodded. He unlocked the door, gave it a push, and looked down at his wife. Marrell smiled up at him and went through the door. Paul could not resist giving her a tap on the seat.

The house was a wonderful surprise. Although a bit musty- smelling, the odor was nothing a few open windows couldn't cure. The entryway was spacious, with hardwood floors that led to a high-ceilinged living room with huge windows.

The girls dashed up the stairs, and Mackenzie's voice could be heard as she shouted about finding four bedrooms. Her mother

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barely heard. She was in the large kitchen, thinking that her dreams had come true. Never had they had a kitchen this spacious. She opened cupboards and almost reverently touched surfaces and walls.

"The backyard is small," Paul stated as he came back to find her.

"That's all right," she said softly, causing her husband to smile.

The sound of a truck interrupted anything Paul might have said. He glanced out the window and said, "I don't believe it."

"What is it?"

"The moving truck."

"Is it really?"

"Yeah," he said on a laugh and moved toward the door. The men were just climbing from the cab.

"Are we glad to see you."

Marrell didn't go out with him. She had dreaded all of this, but suddenly her heart was very light. She leaned on the counter, a small smile on her face. They were going to be all right. In fact, they were going to be more than all right. They were going to be great!

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Three

Did you forget my birthday?" Mackenzie asked very suddenly.

For Marrell the world was in an upheaval of boxes and movers, but she made herself stop and pay attention to her daughter.

"No, I did not. I shopped for you in San Antonio and brought everything with me."

"It's next week."

"I know it is. Were you worried?"

"A little."

Marrell smiled down into her eyes. They were an unusual color-a little green with a hint of gray. Her brows were perfect slashes of black, and her lashes, though not overly long, were very thick. Her nose was straight and even, and Marrell suspected that her pretty mouth would tempt many a man by the time she was grown.

"Well, I planned to make spaghetti and chocolate cake. How does that sound?"

"Yummy." Mackenzie beamed at her.

"Now, my almost nine-year-old, I need you to unpack the box that was put in your room. It says 'Toys.' Put everything on the shelves."

"What if they're D.J.'s?"

"Then take them to her."

"Okay. What do I do after that?"

"Come back and check with me when you're finished."

"All right."

Marrell went back to the boxes in the kitchen. She knew that if she didn't find some sheets, the family would never get to bed

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that night, but she had this "thing" about having her kitchen settled. An Army wife learned early in the game not to keep the superfluous, but in her kitchen she sometimes made exceptions. Paul came in while she was trying to hang a measuring cup rack on the wall. He took over and had it done quickly.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. How is everything else going?"

"I think okay. Are the movers about done?" Her voice had lowered.

"Over halfway, I would guess. Why?"

"The blond guy keeps looking at my legs."

Paul's eyes dropped to the shapely length of leg that was exposed beneath her cutoffs and then back to her eyes. Marrell knew some men thought it very exciting when other men found their wives attractive. At the moment Mrs. Paul Bishop was never more happy that her husband wasn't one of them.

"I'll shut this door when I go out," Paul said, referring to the door that led out to the hallway at the front door.

"Thank you."

Only too happy to keep other men from ogling his wife, Paul kissed her cheek, exited, and shut the door. Marrell went back to work, only vaguely remembering that Mackenzie had never returned.

Had Marrell been able to see the daughter in question, she would have found her sitting on her unmade bed, just looking around the room. Mackenzie had put her toys on the shelf and even delivered Delancey's to her. Now she just wanted to sit looking at her room.
Her
room.

Her eyes scanned the walls as she decided where she would put her posters. She had one of a kitten with a ball of string, another of a huge yellow smiley-face, an Army recruiting poster, and her favorite: a close-up poster of the Monkeys. Delancey had one of a smiling Davy Jones on his own, but Mackenzie liked everyone in the group.

In planning what she would do with the four posters, the fact that her mother wanted her back slid from her mind. There was so much space on all the walls, and over her bed seemed to be a perfect spot. Her eyes even went to the ceiling. In the middle of this contemplation, her father walked in.

"Hey, soldier, why isn't your bed made?"

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Mackenzie grinned at him. "I don't have sheets yet, Dad."

"I guess that's as good a reason as any." He sat down on her bed and looked around. "Your own room. Just what you wanted."

"D.J. has her own room too."

"Yes. I was just in there. She's still arranging her stuffed animals on her shelf. Why did you put your toys on only the bottom shelf?"

"Because the other shelves are for my books."

"Do you have that many books?"

"No, but I want those on before I move the animals up there."

Paul nodded. "Listen, I'm going to head off to the commissary and scrounge up some grub for dinner. Do you want to come?"

"Yeah. Can D.J. too?"

"Sure, go ask her."

An outing with Dad.
This
was a treat. Mackenzie found Delancey in the kitchen with her mother. The moving men had finally gone.

"Dad's going to get something for dinner. Do you want to come?"

"Yeah, sure. When are we going?"

"Right now. Are you coming, Mom?"

"No, honey. I'm going to stay here and try to put some more things away."

It wasn't an outrageous mess. They didn't have that much, but Marrell wanted the boxes cleared out and their contents put away. Paul had put all of their clothes in the closets and settled things in the dressers. That had been a great help, but the only one who knew how she wanted the kitchen was Marrell, who seemed only too happy to be left on her own to work.

"Can you get some Pepsi and ice, Paul?"

"Sure. What sounds good for dinner?"

"Chicken sounds wonderful. What do you think?"

"Chicken it is. Come on, girls."

"Are you going to get us set for breakfast too?"

"Yes. You can start a list for later, but I'll just get the essentials for tonight."