Celia's Puppies (10 page)

Wednesday evening — 5:40 P.M.
Washington DC

“
I’m sorry,” the
Undersecretary to the Secretary of State said.

He flew out of his office and she gulped. He
was twice as handsome as his photo. Tall and fit, his long legs
took him across the waiting room in two steps.

“
I know I’ve kept you
waiting out here a long time. But I’ve been called to the White
House.”

“
Sir, if you don’t want
to…”

“
Talk about Michael
Roper?” the Undersecretary said. “I know it looks that way, but
nothing could be further from the truth. Would you mind walking
with me?”

“
Sure,” the freelance
reporter said.

She had hoped to really nail this interview
so that maybe, just maybe, Oprah would give her more work. The
money from this assignment was rent and groceries for a month. She
wasn’t going to give up easily.

He wanted to walk? She would walk.

Looking up at him, she was pretty sure she’d
do anything he asked. She bit the inside of her lip to keep from
giggling.

“
Oh great,” the man
said.

With the Undersecretary’s palpable relief,
the reporter felt her confidence return. Smiling, she picked up her
handbag, turned on her hand held digital recorder, and followed him
out the door. The man glided down the hallway with purpose and
speed. The reporter almost ran to keep up with him.

“
I was the last one they
rescued before they were all killed and Michael...”

“
I’m sorry, sir,” the
reporter asked. “Rescued? Who’s they? Killed?”

The Undersecretary came to a complete halt.
Taking her elbow, he looked into her eyes.

“
The Fey team,” he said.
“I thought...”

“
I’m sorry, sir. I was
sent to ask you about Michael Roper,” the reporter said.
“I...”

“
About three years ago, I
was held hostage.”

“
What? Where? There’s
nothing in your bio…”

The reporter searched her mind. Had she even
read his official biography? She had at looked his Wikipedia page
on the way here from her job at the grocery store. But his official
biography...

“
The ‘where’ isn’t a big
deal. And I’m certain you’re right. There isn’t anything in my
bio,” he said.

He continued striding down the hall.

“
I wasn’t held long. I
mean, I was held long enough to have... Never mind. The Fey team
was a Special Ops group that retrieved hostages. They went around
the world rescuing people. Americans mostly, but important people
from other countries too.”

“
Wow. Why doesn’t everyone
know...”

“
You can look them up,” he
interrupted. “They have a Wikipedia page. Have you used
Wikipedia?”

“
Yes, sir,” the reporter
said. “But what...”

“
Great service,
Wikipedia.” The Undersecretary flashed his identification at a
station in the hallway. Pressing past her question, he continued,
“So they rescue me one day, take two days of vacation, then wham,
the entire team is killed. Except for one guy. And that’s because
his wife was having a baby.”

The Undersecretary put his hand on the
stairwell door. Looking down at the reporter’s three inch heels, he
asked, “Stairs OK?”

“
Sure,” the reporter
said.

“
Gives us more time. And a
little more privacy.” Moving into the stairwell, he said, “I won’t
tell anyone if you want to take the heels off.”

The reporter blushed. Her feet were killing
her, but these were her only dressy shoes. Looking into the man’s
face, she saw his sincerity. She nodded.

“
Thanks.”

“
Where was I?” he asked.
Seeing her hands were full, he added, “I can hold the
recorder.”

“
Ok, thanks,” she said.
“You were telling me that the Fey team was killed.”

“
Right,” he
said.

“
I woke up two days after
they were all killed. I can’t tell you how… disturbing that was for
me. I mean these people had just saved me, rescued me from hell,
and now they were dead. I...”

They went down a flight of stairs before the
Undersecretary spoke again.

“
Anyway, Mike came to see
me. He was visiting a friend at Walter Reed and stopped into my
room. He told me there were almost four thousand of us.”

“
Us?” the reporter
asked.

“
People rescued by the Fey
team,” he said. “Mike visited me every day. We’d talk about being
held hostage and…”

“
Michael Roper was held
hostage?” the reporter interrupted.

“
Uh huh,” the
Undersecretary said. “He took even took me to get my
‘F’.”

“
Your ‘F’?”

The Undersecretary moved his watch to review
a script Vivaldi ‘F’ tattooed on the underside of his left
wrist.

“
Almost everyone who was
rescued by the Fey team has these ‘F’s. Mike said the
Fey...”

“
The Fey?”

“
Long story. Anyway, the
Fey didn’t want to keep rescuing the same people over and over
again so people got these tattoos. Frankly, it’s kind of a status
symbol.”

“
What?”

“
They all had them. The
team, that is. These same ‘F’s in a green arm band on their right
arms. The guy who’s left – Joseph – he has one too.”

“
So the ‘F’ is a kind of
marker?”

“
Sure. Like a badge or a
rank. If you look around, you’ll see that lots of people have these
tattoos. Some guys have them on their arm. Most guys do their wrist
because it’s noticeable and also subtle.”

“
You said
guys?”

“
Or gals,” he said. He
rounded a corner to the first floor. “Listen, when I open this door
the Secret Service is going to whisk me to the White
House.”

He blushed, stammered a little bit.

“
Here’s my phone number,”
the reporter said. She put her card into his hand. “I love dinner,
but breakfast is my favorite meal.”

He nodded.

“
Do you have what you
need?” he asked.

“
I think so,” she said. “I
assume dinner is off the record.”

“
Yes, off the
record.”

“
Then is there anything
you’d like to add?” she asked.

“
I would not be standing
here if it wasn’t for Mike Roper. The doctor’s cured my body. But
Mike cured my mind.”

He ran a hand through his short dark
hair.

“
I mean, I had therapy. A
lot of therapy. But knowing there were others and they were doing
well? I… I owe my sanity to Mike Roper. He’s a great
guy.”

He moved to push the door open.

“
I’ll be done by 8, maybe
9? Would you like to…?”

“
I like a late dinner,”
she said.

“
Great! I’m… I’m excited.
Mike saved me again.”

The Undersecretary pushed the door open and,
as predicted, was whisked away by the Secret Service. Just before
leaving the building, he turned and waved to her.

Smiling, she went home to finish the piece,
and get ready for dinner.

~~~~~~~~

Wednesday evening — 6:25 P.M.
Denver, CO

“
Merde,” Frederec
said.

A woman’s angry voice echoed down the
hall.

“
What?” Mike
asked.

Wearing a tux shirt and his boxer shorts,
Mike stood with his arms out so Frederec could make the final
adjustments to his new wardrobe. Mike was afraid to move in case he
was pricked by a pin or tore something or whatever he might do to
such finery.

“
Maman has seen Jill’s
hair,” Frederec said.

“
Listen, it’s not Jill’s
fault. It’s not like she...”

“
No, no,” Frederec said.
“No one blames Jill.”

“
Is your Mom going to
terminate the contract? I know Jill’s been really
excited...”

The woman’s angry voice came down the hall
and past the door of the small room they were in. Frederec
laughed.

“
No, Maman is yelling at
my father,” Frederec said. “She wants him to...”

Frederec paused trying to come up with the
word in English.

“
Castrate is probably the
closest word… the person who did this to Jill.”

“
Jill keeps her contract,”
Mike said.

“
Take that off,” Frederec
said. “Here are your garments for Oprah tomorrow.”

Mike began to pull on a pair of Levi’s
jeans.

“
Undergarments?”

“
Oh right,” Mike said. He
pulled off his boxers and took a pair of designer briefs from
Frederec. “Jill?”

“
Oui. Jill, her Katherine,
they are part of the family now.” Frederec smirked. “I almost feel
sorry for this Trevor.”

~~~~~~~~

Wednesday night — 8:10 P.M.

“
Would you like to cut the
cake?” Sandy asked Noelle.

“
Daddy should cut it! It’s
his ‘Happy Day’ cake!” Noelle said. Noelle sat on her knees on a
chair at Sandy’s round dining room table. “Don’t you think,
Nash?”

“
Sure.” Nash mumbled from
Sandy’s computer table.

Sandy had baked a delicate white cake with
toasted coconut cream layers to celebrate the public announcement
of Aden taking over Lipson Construction. Standing with her hand in
Aden’s, she had felt Aden shake with anxiety. But when Jacob
invited Aden to answer questions, Aden had been every bit the
charming, professional leader. She, Noelle and Nash screamed and
cheered for him. To avoid the press, the family retreated to
Sandy’s condo for a sleep over and cake.

“
Daddy has to get out of
the bathroom,” Sandy said.

“
Hey!” Aden came out of
the bathroom in a bathrobe. “You’re the one who told me to wash off
my nervous stink.”

Sandy laughed. Aden kissed her.

“
Let me get dressed.” Aden
scooted into Sandy’s bedroom to change into jeans.

“
This week has been really
fun,” Noelle said. “I’m glad we didn’t have to stay at Nuala’s
house.”

“
Milk?” Sandy
asked.

“
Yes please,” Noelle
said.

“
How about you, Nash?”
Sandy asked.

“
Huh,” Nash looked up from
Sandy’s laptop. “What did you do to this?”

“
It just stopped working.”
Sandy shrugged.

“
It’s pretty messed up,”
Nash said. “Think I can fix it. You have wireless?”

“
The building does,” Sandy
said.

“
Great. I’ll start a virus
scan...”

“
You’re a life saver.
Thanks.” Sandy kissed the top of his head.

“
Ew.” Nash bat at her with
his hand then leaned back against her.

“
What’s this about
cake?”

Aden was walking by the front door when
there was a knock. He looked through the peep hole, made a puzzled
face, and then opened the door. Without warming, the Denver Police
Officer attacked Aden. His forearm at Aden’s throat, the police
officer pushed Aden all the way back to the wall. The table knocked
over shattering a vase filled with flowers. The men stood face to
face.

“
We can do this hard or we
can do this easy,” the Police Officer said. “Your
choice.”

Noelle screamed and launched herself across
the room. Sandy caught her before she reached the men. Nash came up
beside Sandy to hold her hand.

“
Let him go,” Sandy said.
She wasn’t anxious or angry. She sounded mostly annoyed.

“
Sandra,” the police
officer said. “This man has a criminal record.”

“
Uh huh,” Sandy said.
“Your history’s not so hot either. You’re going to pay for the vase
you broke.”

The police officer stepped back. He lifted
Aden by the shirt and set him away from the wall.

“
Aden, I’d like to
introduce you to my ridiculous, overbearing, jerk of a Godfather,
Seth O’Malley.”

“
Now Sandy,” Seth said. “I
had to be sure we could have a conversation. He has a violent
record.”

“
You scared the kids,”
Sandy said. “Do you feel like a man by terrifying two small
kids?”

“
Sandra,” Seth said. He
held his arms out for a hug but Sandy shook her head at
him.

“
You really overstepped
your bounds this time,” Sandy said.

“
Sandy,” Aden walked up to
her and the kids. “I’m Ok.”

He hugged Noelle and Nash then stroked
Sandy’s hair.

“
We were just about to
have some of Sandy’s cake,” Aden said. “Would you like to join
us?”

“
But Dad!” Nash said.
“That’s police brutality. We should...”

“
I’m all right,” Aden
said. “Ever since Sandy told me that her stepdad and Godfather were
police officers, I’ve wondered when I’d get… uh…
introduced.”

Sandy nodded then went into the kitchen. She
returned with a broom and dust pan which she thrust into Seth’s
hands. He raised his eyebrows and laughed. He set about cleaning up
the flowers and broken vase. When he finished, he held his arms out
and Sandy hugged him.