Power of Attorney (5 page)

Mr. M opened his eyes and Nikki smiled at him. She watched his eyes drift around the room, searching.

“Miranda will be home tomorrow,” she said. She’d said it each of the three previous times he’d opened his eyes; this time there actually seemed to be some understanding. “The boys went to Subway to get lunches.”

“Boys?” he asked. Or rather mouthed. He cleared his throat and winced as his chest moved.

“Darrin arrived this morning. He and Brett have been sniffing around each other like dogs. Currently they are feeling pleasant toward each other because Darrin asked Brett’s opinion on a recent Lincoln biography. They were happily shredding the author’s character, technique, and skill when they left.”

Mr. M’s mouth almost quirked up on one side.

“I sent Mark along to make sure the topic didn’t move to Eisenhower. Sean called. He’s arriving tonight.”

Mr. M waved one hand tiredly, as if to show that Sean shouldn’t put himself out.

“Jenny has stars in her eyes. She loves the rodeo and wants to hear every last detail. If Sean offers her a job, we may never see her again.”

“No shooting,” whispered Mr. M, his eyes drifting closed again.

“Good point,” said Nikki, tucking the blanket up a little higher. “Horse-raising probably doesn’t offer enough real violence for Jenny.”

There was silence for a little while and Nikki watched the heart monitor beat a steady pace.

“Did you tell him?” asked Mr. Merrivel without opening his eyes.

“Yes,” said Nikki. “He deserved to know. You should have told him earlier.”

“Most of my missions are still classified,” he said.

“That’s bullshit and we both know it,” said Nikki, but without any heat.

He sighed softly. “I didn’t know how.”

Somewhere along the corridor one of the machines was whistling a repetitive tone. It was the determinedly cheerful series of notes that made Nikki think that someone had taken various noises to a focus group and tried to find the least annoying, most upbeat sound. They hadn’t really succeeded.

“You also should have told me,” said Nikki.

“I’m supposed to stay out of Miranda’s business,” he said, opening his eyes more fully and speaking a little louder. “Also, she said it would influence your relationship decisions.”

“You mean, it would make me think that if you two crazy kids could make it work, Z’ev and I might have a shot? She’s never made it a secret that she disapproves of me being in a relationship with an active CIA agent.”

“She’s never ordered you to break up,” murmured Mr. M.

Nikki sighed. “No, she never has, but she probably should. You’ve been unconscious, so you won’t have noticed the googly eyes that Jane has been making at your grandson.”

“Yes?” Mr. M’s eyes brightened.

“You never mentioned he was a cop. When I asked Jane if she was going to ask him out you know what she said? She said, ‘It’s too big of a risk. It’s an exploitable weakness for both our organizations.’”

Mr. M grunted in dissatisfaction.

“If Jane thinks dating a cop in an entirely different state is too big of a risk for Carrie Mae, what the hell am I doing dating a CIA agent? Maybe if we were more like you two — if one of us would quit or if I could tell him the truth, maybe it might work.”

“Are you still thinking of breaking up with him?” he asked, peevishly plucking at the blanket.

Nikki adjusted the blanket to his liking. “Yes,” said Nikki tiredly. “But you know, it’s not like he’s even home to break up with. The CIA keeps sending him out on missions. I’m relieved when he gets home. I’m scared when he leaves. And in between, all I do is lie to him. It doesn’t feel right. I think breaking up will be easier.”

“Easier doesn’t make it right, does it?”

Nikki shrugged awkwardly. “You just got out of surgery. We’re not talking about this.” He stared at her without saying anything, until Nikki began to fidget in her seat. “I’m not saying anything is decided. I’m still thinking about it.”

Mr. M smirked, apparently satisfied that his point had been made. His eyes drifted closed again and he dozed for a moment before suddenly coming wide-awake. “Miranda’s home tomorrow?”

“Yes,” said Nikki reassuringly.

“You did warn her about all this?” He waved one finger in a circle to indicate the hospital room.

“Yes,” said Nikki, not mentioning that Mrs. Merrivel’s response to the news had been, “Yes, I’m aware. You and I will have to discuss a few things when I get back.”

“Good, good. Didn’t want to give her a shock.”

He relaxed again and by the time the boys returned with food, Mark giving her a thumbs up that everything had gone smoothly, Mr. Merrivel was asleep again.

They waited, talking in quiet tones and trying to keep the chairs from taking up too much space.

“You know,” said Brett, when Darrin and Sean had gone on their trip to the cafeteria for more soda. “It’s probably better that he gave you power of attorney. I don’t like to say it, but… I wasn’t… Between him and my mom, well, let’s just say that for the past few days I’ve been in no fit state to be in charge of anyone. I think my wife was right; I think I maybe should have waited a whole day and gotten some sleep before flying out here. I really apologize for my behavior.”

“I appreciate the apology,” said Nikki, trying not to show surprise. She stood up, stretched and went to the window. “Do you think you’ll be able to get along with him better now that you know the truth?”

“Will the truth change anything between us, you mean?” He stared at his father. “I don’t know. I’d love to say it’d be like we moved to OZ and everything is poppies and horses of a different color, but…”

“But you’re pretty sure you’re still living in Kansas?” asked Nikki, raising an eyebrow and Brett nodded sheepishly.

“It’ll help,” he said. “I’m just not sure how much the truth can make up for the past.”

“But will you try?” asked Nikki.

“If he does,” said Brett, nodding.

“I guess that’s the best that can be hoped for,” said Nikki.

Bethany Maines , a native of Tacoma WA, is the author of the Carrie Mae Mystery series and An Unseen Current. When she’s not traveling to exotic lands, or kicking some serious butt with her fourth degree black belt in karate, she can be found chasing after her daughter, or glued to the computer working on her next novel.

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2014 by Bethany Maines

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

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