Project Reunion (31 page)

Among the six-day mountain of email awaiting my return to my keyboard – Cam had a point, about killing spam – I received a notice from the West Totoket Cocos, Jamal and Delilah, the militia head honchos in my little corner of Connecticut. Congratulations, I had placed in the top half of my community in agricultural production for the year. Not a very lofty accomplishment, given the general level of vegetable gardening skill in suburban America. But nice of them to acknowledge me.

I almost missed the second paragraph. Those ranking in the bottom half of agricultural production would lose their land, and be consolidated into condominium housing. I qualified for a subsistence lot increase, and was awarded both sides of my block. This was already a done deal, having been proposed, debated, and voted through while I was busy with Project Reunion. I’d missed a couple meetings of the West Totoket agricultural committee.

Nothing ever seems to happen when you show up for committee meetings. But God help you if you miss them.

I flew next door in a panic, to pound on Mangal and Shanti’s door. No answer. I peered through the now uncurtained window. Furniture gone, boxes everywhere. I turned away just as the door belatedly opened.

“Hi, Dee, welcome home!” Shanti cried, with a big smile and a quick hug. “We expected you back Friday, didn’t we?”

“Yeah!” I said. “Then someone bombed New York while I was there. And somehow I got stuck out on Long Island.”

“I’m amazed you still travel,” said Shanti. “You’re very brave.”

“Look, Shanti – I just got the email from the civic association, about my new land grant,” I said. “I… Gah! You don’t have to leave! If it’s my land, you’re certainly welcome to stay on it!”

She beamed, folded her arms, shook her head. From long exposure, I recognized Shanti-of-steel when I saw it. “No, it’s fine, Dee. We have our own building for the Indian community. In Maple Common condominiums. It’s much closer to town, for Mangal to work at Amenac. We’re already half-moved. And looking forward to it.”

My heart sank. “Shanti… You’ve got to believe me. I had nothing to do with this. I’ve been so busy…”

“It’s fine,” she insisted. “You’re in our hearts forever, Dee. No matter where we go. I hate to think what this past year would have been like, without you.” She hugged me again. And gently but firmly closed the door on me.

I gazed around the neighborhood from Shanti’s stoop, in the gathering dusk of early December. I saw no one, no lights coming on in the windows. I swallowed. That was my job last summer, to teach everyone on my block to grow vegetables. But then Zack had died, and I…dropped the ball.

Now I had an even bigger farm to drop the ball on. I’d have to hire laborers from the condos and supervise them half the year. And drat it, Zack’s old house with its livestock wasn’t on my block. I wondered who ended up with that land grant, and how much time I had to evacuate my livestock.

Welcome home, to the next new normal.

I dragged my feet in dread to the house on the other side, fearing that Alex’s household might have decamped, too. But no, thank God. It had never occurred to Alex and Shelley and Trey that any of that nonsense applied to them. We were family. We just didn’t quite fit under a single roof. I hugged them all, and received huge congratulations on the weekend’s blockbuster Project Reunion broadcasts. That made me feel much better. It was close enough to 6 p.m., so we all trooped back to my kitchen, and visited while I slapped dinner together.

And soon they were gone. I had the house all to myself again. Compared to the happy madhouse of Camp Cameron on Long Island, or Adam’s house-tugboat on Staten Island, or Emmett’s destroyer in New York Harbor, it sure was silent. Sure, Emmett ‘lived with me.’ Except, of course, that he didn’t. He’d lived here for a week, over a month ago. And now the whole block was mine. I tried to feel privileged.

I tried to feel anything at all, aside from alone and intimidated. I gave it up and worked in my office until I felt sleepy enough to give up for the night.

Emmett called just as I was snuggling in. “Missed you, darlin’!” he said. “You were offline a long time.”

“Oh, you would have been too busy to talk to me anyway,” I murmured.

“Uh-huh,” said Emmett. “You alright, Dee?”

I told him about how I now proudly owned my block. I’d graduated to a real subsistence farm. Sort of. “Was this your plan, Emmett? If you’d stayed? Kick everyone out of their homes –”

“Whoa, darlin’,” he said. “DJ carried through on my plan, yes. But the plan was to let the Cocos lead. They were supposed to get together with their communities. Lay out the information, how agriculture was going, how we could improve. West Totoket has an agricultural committee to decide that stuff. Hell, you’re on that committee, aren’t you?”

“I’ve been busy,” I growled.

He sighed. “Darlin’, maybe you don’t agree with what they chose. But it was up to the community to decide. Then they run their new plan for a year. All the Cocos in greater New Haven, different plans. Then publish their results. Compare the results, with each other and with the non-Coco areas. Adjust. Repeat. No revolutions. Just social change, done gradually.”

New Haven County wasn’t wall-to-wall Coco districts. The Cocos had grown popular, their districts well-managed, and their ranks swelled to several dozen. But most of the area still got by with the old local governments, answerable directly to the Resco. West Totoket was the only corner of Totoket township with a Coco, for instance. Lucky us. Well, last winter Zack’s militia was shooting looters. The Army provisioning details barreled through non-Coco districts, taking whatever they wanted. We’d felt pretty lucky then.

“Well. I’m glad they didn’t try to kick me out of my house,” I whispered, with a catch in my voice.

“Uh-huh,” Emmett said softly. “Wish I could be more help with the farm, darlin’.”

“I was thinking about that,” I said. “That’s…not realistic, is it? You do Army. This summer was a fluke.”

“Yeah.”

I stroked the phone and begged myself to talk to him. Burble on. Be brave or funny or sexy or just gossip. There was no end to all we could talk about. I loved him. I was honestly fascinated with what he was doing in New York now, dying to know how Pennsylvania’s attack changed his plans. But my throat felt closed. I swallowed a couple times. It didn’t help.

“I love you, Dee,” Emmett said. “It was so good to see you. Bad enough Pennsylvania attacked. Wish they hadn’t stolen our last night together.” He waited. I didn’t speak. “I hope we can talk tomorrow, darlin’.”

“Yeah.”
Say something, dammit!
I exhorted myself. But, “Good-night, Emmett,” was all I managed.

-o-

“Dee! Good to hear from you!” Pam Niedermeyer greeted me over the phone, a couple days later. “What’s up?”

“I need advice,” I said. “Army wife advice. You have a minute?”

“Sure! I’m not an Army wife, though.”

“Yeah, but you know how this armed, service – how all this works,” I said. “And I don’t have a clue. This long-distance relationship thing.”

“Well, yes and no,” Pam said. “I mean, John is Coast Guard. His schedule is screwy, and he travels for work. But usually he’s home at least a couple nights a week. He was away at school for six months a while back. That was tough. But he wasn’t like overseas getting shot at, or coming home with PTSD, or anything.” She sighed. “Though, he does get pretty upset sometimes about duty here. Enforcing the New York borders had the whole Coast Guard near mutiny.”

“John didn’t take it out on you, did he?” I asked.

“Like he’d dare. Hell, no,” said Pam. “Dee? Is Emmett taking stuff out on you?”

“No! No, that’s not it,” I said hastily.

“You can’t put up with that, not for one minute, Dee,” Pam insisted. “If it happens, it is
not you.
Especially in the Army, those guys go through living hell. If he’s having trouble with what he’s seen, what he’s done, he needs to talk to other guys who’ve been to that same hell and found the path out. You can be supportive. But you can’t be a punching bag.”

“No, really, Pam!” I cried. “Thank you, but Emmett would never,
ever
, hit a woman. I don’t think so, anyway. It’s not that. It’s…I just…”

“Lonely?” Pam suggested.

“Yeah. I mean, I wanted a partner. And I got one. He even moved in with me. For a week.”

Pam sighed. “And now he’s living in New York Harbor. And you’re wondering if it’ll ever be any better.”

“Something like that,” I admitted.

“Well, good news and bad news,” said Pam. “The bad news is, probably not. I mean, I’ve met Emmett, and John talks about him. Project Reunion, New York, that’ll probably end. Maybe not as soon as you expect. But then there’ll be the next campaign. And the one after that. It’s what he does, and he’s good at it.”

“Yeah,” I said. “You saw the special Sunday night, of him investing Staten Island?”

“Dee, the whole world saw that special. That was a triumph!”

“Yeah. Yeah, it was. And he looked so alive, so happy, you know?”

“Don’t get maudlin, Dee,” Pam said firmly. “He looked pretty damn happy with you on his lap, to me. He’s having the time of his life, sure. And the good news is – so can you.”

“What?” I missed the turn on that one.

“That’s the good news,” Pam said. “You – like me – are a smart, capable, tough, independent woman. So what if I can’t rely on John to pick up the kids at soccer practice. I can do it myself. Single mothers do it all the time. Unlike them, I’ve got his full income and support. With John, I have a best friend with benefits. We can do couple stuff. But my social life doesn’t revolve around him. I live my own life. So do you.”

“That’s true.”

“So were you a recent divorcée or something, Dee?” Pam inquired.

“Me? No! No, until this past year, I never really had anything, um, serious,” I admitted.

“Then the world went to hell, and you started clinging?” Pam suggested.

I scowled. “I do not cling.”

“You cling.”

“I do not cling!”

“That’s my girl.”

I groaned. “I can’t believe I clinged. Clung.”

“I can,” said Pam. “I tried it on John myself. He was like, ‘who are you, and what did you do with Pam?’ Around the same time you and Adam went to Montreal.”

“Adam told you about me?”

“Oh, yeah!” Pam assured me. “Adam likes you! He’s still stuck on you. I probably shouldn’t tell you that. You’d have to be blind not to see it yourself, though.”

“Maybe so,” I said. “Well, no, yeah. I still like him too.”

“Is that the problem?” Pam asked. “You’re tempted to give Adam a try again?”

“No! Well, I don’t think so. I just… Maybe it’s what you said. I’m scared of the world and want my teddy bear.”

“Your big, strong, tough, protective teddy bear,” Pam clarified. “Who can defend you from anything the world throws at you. Even Homeland Security and a near-death sentence.”

“I do really like that about Emmett,” I had to admit.

“And who wouldn’t? Nice bod, too,” said Pam. “Face not as pretty as Adam’s. But Adam’s over the top, anyway. Everyone thinks he’s gay, he’s so gorgeous. Really ticks him off, too. Well, much as anything ever ticks Adam off. Thing is, Dee – Emmett is protecting you, whether he’s here or not. They have a brotherhood. I heard you were just out on Long Island, with Cam. Emmett thought you were in danger, but he was busy. So he passed you to Cam, knowing that Cam would protect you with his life. I’m sure there’s someone else watching you at home.”

I sighed. “Yup. I got people.”

“Well, do you really need sex every night? Got toys?” Pam prodded. “We tried phone sex and cybersex while John was in…school. Your relationship might still be a little young yet to get a good laugh out of that, though.”

I laughed out loud. “I can’t believe you said that!”

“Sure you can,” said Pam. “Dee, that’s just
obvious.
So I give. What else is bothering you?”

“What if he doesn’t come back?”

“He looked pretty set on you, to me,” Pam opined. “I think he wants to keep you.”

“Yeah, no, not that. What if he doesn’t come back
here?
”

“You don’t want to follow?” Pam asked.

I gulped. “New York is a nightmare.”

“Hm,” Pam said, suddenly thoughtful instead of joking. “Well, could I make a suggestion?”

“That’s what I was hoping you would do,” I said. “Am I being shallow and selfish and –”

“Suggestion one,” Pam cut in firmly. “Don’t call my friend Dee names. Suggestion two. Not wanting to live in the Apple Core right now, means you’re not insane. I think Emmett is the last person who’d want you there, if it isn’t safe.”

“That’s true,” I murmured, then chuckled. “He almost sent me straight home when I showed up for Thanksgiving without his permission.”