Rhapsody (The Bellator Saga Book 5) (31 page)

A little harsher statement than what he’d said the night before. “I don’t want you to lose your temper over it.”

Jack rose to his feet, cracking his knuckles. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Caroline spun her chair around to face him. “I’m serious. We have to stay above the fray. I need to get better at controlling my emotions and you need to stop flying off the handle.”

“Back of the plane,” Jack said. “Maybe hogtied.”

She laughed. Despite his bluster, that was an amusing image. “Fine.” She stood up to kiss his cheek. “Will you let me get back to this?”

“Ten minutes. Then you’re heading to the commissary with me to plan Thanksgiving dinner.”

Which was only a few days away. How time flew. “Deal.”

*              *              *              *              *

“You made a pie?” Caroline asked. “That’s my job.”

Jones grinned. “We can make it a contest. Whose pie doesn’t suck?”

She took the pan out of his hands. “We both know the answer to that question. You made pumpkin. That’s so boring.”

He shrugged. “Used my mom’s recipe. That tops whatever fancy pie you made.”

Caroline didn’t want to ask him the last time he’d spoken to his mother. So she smiled and put the pie in the fridge. “Key lime beats pumpkin. Basic fruit math.”

Crunch gave her a little hug. “Not on Thanksgiving.”

“Do you want pumpkin?” she asked.

“Fuck no. I saw him making that shit. Too much nutmeg.”

Jones shoved him. “Don’t give away my secrets, dumbass.”

“Guys, it’s a holiday,” Caroline said. “Be nice.”

Crunch threw his arm around Jones’ neck. “Whatever you say, Princess. We’ll behave.”

Gig cheerfully accepted the beer Jack handed him. “Not fucking likely.” He downed half the bottle in one gulp. “How’s our rescuee doing?”

Jack frowned. “We are not going to talk about that today.”

Gig finished his beer. “Can’t believe we helped that piece of shit. Needs to be taught a goddamn lesson, and soon. He cost us too much.”

A not so subtle reference to more than just their mission. He was still missing Gabe. She put her hand on his shoulder. “You’re preaching to the choir,” she said. “Just try not to preach too much to my husband or you’ll get him riled up too.”

“Don’t matter,” Jones said. He punched the air. “You’ve got three hard core security guys ready to beat the shit out of anyone who comes at you.”

“Four,” Jack corrected.

Jesus Christ. With her luck, they’d start comparing penis sizes before the meal even started. A knock at the door saved her from further conversation. “That’ll be Natalie and Mark,” Caroline said. “Why don’t you guys see what’s on TV?”

*              *              *              *              *

Jack did his part. Seasoning the turkey, helping with the side dishes, playing the amusing role of household patriarch for the day. He felt nothing but contentment after three pieces of dessert.

“Well done, sweetheart,” he said. “Next time make an extra so I have an entire pie to myself.”

Caroline stuck her tongue out at Jones. “I knew key lime would carry the day.”

Jones scraped the last bit of crust off his plate. “Folks were just being polite.”

Crunch laughed. “Is that why you ate two pieces of hers and only one of your own?” He turned to Mark. “What did you think of the pumpkin? Be honest.”

Mark cleared his throat. “It was fine.”

Natalie grinned. “He told me it had too much nutmeg.”

Crunch raised his hands triumphantly. “Told you, Jonesie.”

Jones put down his fork. “Bite me, man. I don’t need your hassle.”

“Nutmeg is as nutmeg does,” Caroline said.

“Is that our Thanksgiving fortune?” Jack asked. “Because it makes no sense.”

She leaned over to kiss him. “That’s because I’ve had a couple of glasses of your bourbon. Which means I have to make a little trip down the hall.”

Natalie stacked her silverware on her dessert plate, waving at Caroline. “Leave your plate,” she said. “Jack, go relax on the couch. We’ll get to cleaning all of this up. Come on, guys.”

He’d gladly let them do their thing. The benefit of having a guest list with military training – they cleaned up the kitchen and dining room with maximum efficiency. When Caroline got back from the bathroom, the entire table and countertop were clean and Mark was headed out the door with a full bag of garbage.

She scanned the kitchen. “Where’s the napkin that was on the island?” she asked.

Natalie, who had been wiping off the table, looked up. “I tossed it.”

Caroline gave the countertops another look. “Are you sure?”

“It was trash, right?”

“No, it was – that was the wishbone.”

Jack sat up straighter. Shit. They’d saved it and he wrapped it in a napkin for her, and hadn’t thought to tell the cleanup crew not to throw it away. “Caroline, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” She headed for the garbage can. “Who took the trash out?”

Natalie stepped over to her. “Caroline-”

Jack stood up. “Mark just left.”

“Get him to come back.”

He saw what was coming. The look in her eyes. Not quite panic but not quite anger. And it was his fault. Every year their daughters goaded Caroline to save the wishbone, then argue over who got to try to make a wish. He hadn’t even thought about something that insignificant setting her off. “Sweetheart-”

She shoved her keys in her pocket. “I’ll find Mark and fish it out. It’s fine.”

Jack grabbed her hand. “Caroline, stop.”

“I need to get it. It’s in the dumpster. I’ll bring it back up.”

She tried to press past him toward the door and he held her back. “Stop,” he said.

“We need it,” she said. “It’s tradition. We’ll put it up and dry it out and tomorrow Mo and Feef can-”

Fuck. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d said their names out loud. She’d talk about them, maybe share a memory or two, shed a few tears and express her feelings, but their names seemed almost sacred to her. Especially their nicknames.

Jack pulled her into a hug. “Stop,” he whispered. “Stop it right now.”

She shoved away from him. “Don’t tell me what to fucking do!” she yelled, marching down the hall and slamming the door.

The entire apartment was silent. Goddammit.

“I’m sorry,” Natalie said. “I didn’t realize-”

She sounded like she was about to cry. “It’s not your fault,” Jack said. “You didn’t know. I’ll go talk to her.”

“No.” Natalie raised her hands. “I messed this up. I’ll fix it. You keep the party going.”

Oh, that would surely turn out well. Gig, Crunch, and Jones were all pretending to be transfixed by whatever was on television. Jack couldn’t wait until Mark got back. Party, indeed. But maybe Natalie could do some good. It certainly couldn’t hurt. “Go work your magic,” he said.

*              *              *              *              *

Caroline crawled onto the bed and screamed into a pillow. She couldn’t throw things. She had to keep it together. She was in charge. Everyone was counting on her.
Everyone
. Couldn’t cry, couldn’t yell, couldn’t lose control. Although that was what she had just done. Dammit.

The door creaked open and she turned over. Natalie spoke before she had a chance to open her mouth.

“I created the problem, so I thought I should be the one to solve it. Jack is entertaining your guests.”

Caroline wiped her eyes, feeling the heat rush into her face. Her outburst suddenly seemed rather trifling. “I’m sorry.”

Natalie sat down on the bed next to her. “You know it’s not your fault.” She sighed. “I feel terrible.”

“You didn’t know. You thought it was garbage.”

“I can still feel badly about it.” Natalie smiled at her. “And don’t you want me to express my feelings?”

Caroline hated knowing that she’d caused another person pain through her own struggles. “I guess.”

“Want to talk about it? It might help.”

“It was one of those things I didn’t really think about until I noticed it was gone.”

Natalie smiled gently. “That’s a common theme with you.”

Caroline sighed. “Marguerite and Sophie used to love the wishbone. Like, if we had ham for a holiday they’d get upset because they couldn’t really do anything fun with a hambone. Except make soup.” She tried to smile. “So we had turkey as much as possible. I’d save the wishbone and we’d decide who got to play and make a wish. When they got older I used to just let the two of them do it together but sometimes they’d want me to join in. It’s pretty silly.”

“It’s not silly. It’s a good memory. And it was clearly something that was important to you and your children.”

She shook her head. “They’re not here, so it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Natalie put her arm around her. “Caroline, these things are always going to matter. And you have a right to get upset about them every once in a while. I’m just sorry I triggered that reaction in you.”

“You had no idea it would happen. Does everyone think I’m crazy?”

Natalie gave her a hug that felt almost like a reproach. “Sometimes you take fault for things that aren’t your responsibility. And you overanalyze to death. They all understand.”

“I was making progress, Natalie. I was starting to talk to Jack about the girls, thinking about them without getting upset. And now here I am, right back where I started.”

“You’re not where you started. You’re going to have bad moments. A few months won’t erase that. You may have bad moments a year or a decade from now. Cut yourself some slack.”

“I can’t keep flying off the handle and losing control like that. It’s not healthy.”

Natalie put her arm around Caroline. “It’s not healthy to bottle it up, either. You have to accept your setbacks, because they’re invariably going to occur. Set small goals and don’t beat yourself up if you don’t meet them. Your timelines are going to be different every day. If you need to have a rotten few hours or even a rotten week, let yourself. You’re allowed. I give you permission.”

Caroline smiled. “That’s nice.”

Natalie shrugged. “I’m your therapist and your friend. Therefore you are doubly obligated to listen to my advice.”

“I wish I could get to the point where it stops hurting so much.”

“You will. Like I said, take it one step at a time. Maybe write things down. That might help you keep perspective. And talk to Jack. He has the same problem you do; he just doesn’t express it as openly.”

“By throwing things or yelling, you mean.”

“Yes. Which might make it worse. You two can and should help each other. Let’s set an achievable goal for you. Try to do something that makes you happy every day until Christmas. Can you manage that?”

“I’ll try.”

Natalie stood up. “Good. Let’s go back out there and beat those guys at Monopoly or something.”

Fun. Caroline could try to have fun. And it was a hell of a lot easier to have fun when she could be kicking someone’s ass in a board game. “Fantastic idea.”

No one called attention to her outburst, and the rest of Thanksgiving went off without a hitch. Caroline even managed to finish her application for The Hague during the first week of December. With the rest of the holidays looming, she did her best to forget about Edwards. To focus on happy things. She still had her moments – the crying jags, the silences, the moody afternoons when she’d lock herself in the bedroom with a book and a box of tissues, but Jack tolerated them well.

The data release was on target for shortly after the New Year, and they planned on unloading everything including prisoner records, files relating to Hendricks’ assassination, and anecdotal evidence from individual members of the rebellion. They were going to throw everything at the wall in a singular effort to spur the international community to action. And despite their daily devotion to weeding through the documents in an attempt to make sure all their bases were covered, Jack and Caroline stayed relatively stress-free.

They kept Christmas to themselves. Too many memories, and the risk of melancholy remained. Caroline wanted to keep it as happy as possible, which was much easier to do when it was just the two of them. She wanted to make sure they stayed on course. A small candlelight dinner and couch cuddling formed the bulk of their day.

Jack plopped down next to her, dropping a box in her lap. “I got you something.”

She grinned at him. “That’s it?”

“Hush and open it.”

No big surprise, it was her engagement ring. “You’re the king of regifting, aren’t you?”

He laughed. “Are you saying you don’t want it back?”

She held the box out of his reach. “No. Mine now.”

“I don’t have a jeweler on speed dial anymore. It was the best I could do. Plus, I think you were secretly wondering where it was.”

Which was true, but she hadn’t wanted to say anything. Especially when she thought about how she reacted the first time he tried to give it to her. “I feel bad,” Caroline said. “Dessert and my piddly present aren’t really comparable to this. I could put out after dinner,” she offered.

“I assumed that was part of the plan,” Jack said. “You’re the best present I could have received this year.”

She laughed and let him slip the ring onto her finger. “Aren’t you a ladykiller.”

“I got you something else,” Jack said, after he sneaked a few kisses. “I hope you like it.” He reached behind the couch and placed a flat, neatly wrapped package next to her. “Open it up.”

“You must be the only person who gets wrapping paper at the commissary,” she said.

He laughed. “It is my solemn duty to keep the base economy running smoothly.”

She ripped the paper off. It was one of the photos he’d kept stashed in the dresser, now housed in a lovely metal frame. From their first Christmas as a married couple. Caroline and Jack sitting on a grand couch in the living room, Sophie and Marguerite on each side. All smiling genuine smiles, looking like normal human beings. Caroline loved it because even though it had gone out on all of their official holiday correspondence, it wasn’t the least bit political.

She brushed her fingers across the frame. “One of my favorites,” she said.

“I know. That’s why I picked it.” Jack kissed the side of her head. “Do you need a minute?”

“Afraid I’m going to freak out?”

He chuckled. “A little.”

She’d lost her temper a few times since Thanksgiving, but on the whole she’d done fairly well. It was getting easier to think about the girls without feeling a stab in her chest. The moments would come, but without as much intensity. Caroline tapped her fingers on the frame again. “We had a good thing going, didn’t we?”

Jack kissed her again. “We sure did.”

A small victory to be able to open that gift without falling apart. Progress couldn’t always be measured so easily, but she’d take it. Caroline hugged the picture to her chest. “It’s beautiful, Jack. Thank you.”

He pulled her into an embrace, letting her cry the few tears that seeped out. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah.” She straightened up. “Where should we put it?”

“Wherever we can look at it and be happy.”

Caroline put it on the shelf next to the door. “That way they’ll be sending us off every day.” She headed toward the bedroom, motioning for him to follow. “I got you something too.” He opened his mouth to speak and she held up a finger. “It’s not that.”

“You promised sex.”

“Later.”

He smiled as she retrieved an oddly shaped present from the dresser drawer. “You should have asked me to wrap it.”

“Quiet.” She handed him the package. “I hope you like it.”

He pulled a lopsided item out of the wrapping. “Uh, sweetheart. I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but what is this?”

She put it on her head. “It’s a stocking cap. See? Natalie taught me how to knit.”

“Is that what you two have been doing on your free afternoons?”

“We figured we could learn stuff from each other.”

Jack stared at her. “Have you been teaching her to bake?”

“She’s doing pretty well. She finally made a successful meringue.”

“I think she’s getting the better end of the deal. Is it supposed to make you look like an elf?”

She pulled the cap off and held it out of his reach. “I’ll keep it for myself, then.”

“No,” he said. “I want it. I just – we live in southern California. Do I really need a stocking cap?”

“It’s cold in Europe this time of year. Plus it brings out the color in your eyes.”

He yanked the hat out of her hands and put it on his head. “How do I look?”

She kissed him. “Incredibly handsome.”

“Thank you,” he said. “This hat must have taken you a while.”

“I was able to throw it together while Natalie was busy failing at her first three or four meringues. Do you really like it?”

“It’s downright swell. But it’s a little too dressy for the rest of our evening. Let’s head down to the cafeteria. They’re having a Christmas shindig.”

Oh, he’d pay for that sarcastic remark later. “By
they
, you mean
we
. I got the memo. I
wrote
the memo.”

“Schroeder wrote the memo. You just proofread it.”

He was splitting semantic hairs. The party had been completely her idea. “Fine, I’ll go,” Caroline said. “Maybe Natalie and Mark will be there.”

Jack smiled at her, putting the stocking cap on the bed. “I’m pleased to note that you’re wearing your finest sweater and jeans ensemble, my lady.” He looked down at her combat boots. “And your footwear is practical, but cute.”

“Evening gowns and heels are hard to come by around here. You’ll have to make do. Just imagine I’m wearing something else.”

“Or nothing at all.”

“That happens later.”

“You’d better not be teasing me, Mrs. McIntyre.”

“Do I ever?”

He kissed her. “Let’s go.”

*              *              *              *              *

Natalie and Mark were indeed there, and Jack and Caroline spent most of the night hanging out with them, along with Jonesie, Gig, and Crunch, who had heard a rumor that there would be a keg of Guinness available. Caroline was trying to figure out how their kitchen crew managed to make that happen. She certainly hadn’t approved it. If her husband had played a part, he’d done a great job of keeping his mouth shut. The alcohol was flowing freely. Jack told the soldiers there were no expectations when it came to consumption as long as no one behaved like a fool, and tomorrow was a free day in order to let them all recover. The entire room was in high spirits, with music playing in the background that Caroline didn’t recognize.

“What song is this?” she asked Natalie.

“Hell if I know. Like I keep up with what the kids are listening to these days.”

“You
are
a kid.”

“Not compared to a lot of these guys. You, Gig, and Jack raise the average age by about twenty years.”

“Don’t they have anything better available? Like, you know, fun stuff? Fifties music, jazz, eighties, nineties, something.”

“You sound old, Caroline. And cranky.”

“You kids and your music, get off my lawn?”

Natalie laughed. They’d both had a few, as had Jack and Mark. Jonesie, Gig, and Crunch were sitting at the table next to them, playing beer pong with a few other guys. Gig and the others were winning, which their opponents weren’t taking well.

Natalie turned to Jack. “Your wife does not care for the entertainment your troops are being provided.”

“That’s because this music is terrible,” he said, rising to his feet. “I’m going to see if they have anything good up there. I’ve had enough of autotune and Europop.”

When he came back he was smiling. “They’re altering their playlist.” He pointed at Caroline. “You should take off your boots, sweetheart.”

“For what?”

“We’re going to show this room how proper dancing is done.”

Surely he didn’t expect her to waltz around the linoleum. “We are?”

“Of course we are. Do you need a refresher course?”

“I can follow your lead. I think. Really, Jack?”

“Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Natalie finished her drink. “I totally want to see this.”

“You’d better be dancing too.” Caroline loosened the laces on her boots. “I’m not doing this alone.”

“Sure,” Natalie said, even though Mark looked petrified. “Why not?”

“We won’t do anything too dramatic,” Jack said. “Not if you have so little traction.”

“If you toss me into the air, I’ll beat the hell out of you.”

He chuckled. “Promises, promises. I’ll do whatever I want and you’ll follow.”

She couldn’t tell if he was being aggressive or humorous. Caroline looked over at the other table. “Crunch, you wanna dance with us? I think you and Jonesie would look great together.”

Crunch laughed. “Sure, Princess.” He turned to Jones. “You in?”

Jones bowed dramatically. “Why not?”

The song ended and “Runaround Sue” started playing.

“Let’s roll,” Jack said, dragging her to the front of the room. Jones, Crunch, Natalie, and Mark followed them.

“Sorry, Gig!” Caroline called. Poor guy was alone at the table, chugging his beer. “Next one’s for you.”

“He can’t dance anyway,” Crunch said. “Not metrosexual enough.”

A number of random people had spontaneously taken the floor. There had been hardly anyone dancing before that.

“See?” Caroline said to Natalie. “I know what the people want.”

Jack placed his hand on her hip and took her hand. “You talk too much. Just dance.”

It was a fun slow jitterbug, and the floor grew crowded with other couples. Many of them didn’t know the moves but managed to enjoy themselves. Caroline and Jack whirled around, laughing.

“This is great,” she said.

He grinned against her cheek. “I knew you’d like it.”

The song was short and before they knew it, the next one came on. Caroline recognized it immediately.

“Brian Setzer, eh? Very subtle.”

Jack switched his grip. “Wanna jump, jive, and wail?”

He’d definitely have to lead. “Maybe not the jumping so much.”

“We’ll see.”

The steps came to Caroline quickly, even though Jack did most of the work at first. The music was fun and upbeat. They’d done their fair share of swing dancing in the ballroom of their Philadelphia home and it wasn’t all that hard for her to remember. She let Jack spin her around as she laughed, trying not to lose her balance. She hadn’t worn pumps in almost two years but they were much more effective than socks when it came to fast paced moves like the Lindy Hop and East Coast Swing.

They kept dancing, faster and faster, working in some of their more advanced moves. It wasn’t until Jack swung her over his back that she heard the clapping and cheers and realized they were the only couple still on the floor. The rest of them had stopped to watch. Natalie was blowing kisses at them.

“I am going to kill her,” Caroline panted. “She swore she’d keep dancing with us.”

“Just keep going,” Jack said. “Nothing wrong with a little showing off.”

She continued to let him lead, feeling the music. He flipped her over so fast she was lucky to land on her feet.

“I wasn’t ready for that,” she said.

“You handled it okay.”

God willing he wouldn’t try it again or she’d end up on her ass. “I’m glad this is a short song. You’re wearing me out.”

Jack twirled her furiously, keeping in time to the end of the song. As the last notes played, he lowered her in a deep dip before pulling her up and kissing her. The room erupted in applause and catcalls. Caroline was laughing so hard that Jack had to wrap his arms around her waist to keep her from toppling over.