Successors (30 page)

His only objection to the chili was its frequency. With only the two of them cooking the last nine months, dinners had been bland, repetitive, and occasionally havoc to his digestion. Since Cori was back, he was expecting some change in the rotation. Unfortunately, she had only made a few meals since she was back, and he wasn’t about to broach the topic with Danato.

He looked up from his chili and saw Danato staring at him. “You’ve been avoiding her.”

His mouth hung open with his spoon waiting on the sidelines until it was called back into the game. “What?”

Danato scooped up his papers, shuffled them into a neat pile, and set them aside. “You seemed so concerned before that she wasn’t joining us. Now you seem to be the one not joining us. Why is that?”

He shrugged his shoulders and continued eating. “You’re playing psychiatrist, you tell me?” He took his awaited bite.

Danato tipped his head. “I have no desire to play your childish games.”

“What’s this paperwork for?” he said, tapping his spoon on the pile.

“Don’t change the subject,” Danato growled.

“I’m not. What is it?” he snapped.

Danato shook his head.

Ethan dropped his spoon and swallowed. “It’s the report about the incident with Vince, isn’t it?” he said, shoving his food away from him. He fisted his chest and released a burp. Danato narrowed his eyes at his ill manners. “Is her name even in it?”

Danato’s scowl faded and he looked away.

“It isn’t, is it? Belus told me you still haven’t reported her. Have you offered to let her go yet? A quick memory wipe and replacement and she's right where she left off.” He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice. He hated sounding like a spoiled child, but he was sick of not having any say in his life, while Cori was treated like a princess.

Danato opened his mouth to explain, but Ethan shoved his chair back. “Forget it.” He walked away. After a short distance, he rethought his exit. Danato wanted to know why he was avoiding her, and maybe he should know.

He returned to the table armed with an accusing finger. “You made it so clear to us that this was for life; that we were stuck here. I am your successor. I understand that. I accept that. I think I’ve made great strides here. I think I’ve earned your trust and respect. Whether or not you’ve earned that from me, you have always demanded it. So this is me demanding respect from you. I’m not a galley boy, a stowaway, or a powder monkey. I’m your goddamn first mate. I shouldn’t have to ask what’s in those papers. I should be part of the discussion leading to those papers.”

Danato sat up straight, taking his tongue-lashing with the respect that Ethan had demanded.

“You asked why I’m avoiding her?” he said, losing some of the control over his anger. “Because I don't want to get attached to her and watch her leave again!”

After a short breath to compose himself so he didn’t look like a child having a tantrum, he retreated to his bedroom. If Danato had any defense for any of the accusations laid at his door, he didn’t try to interject them at the time. Ethan was grateful for that. He had no energy to hash things out tonight.

He opened his bedroom door and headed in. As he closed his door, he saw the light around Cori’s disappear as the knob clicked shut. “Shit,” he whispered, wondering if she had overheard his rant. He clicked his own door shut, not willing to mash that out tonight either.

62

Danato arrived at the greenhouse and found Cori toiling away repotting some of the sorrier specimens. She was crouched in an aisle, sopping wet, with smears of mud on her face. He laughed at her dedication to the work.

She peeked over the tables at him and waved. “Come on in!” she hollered at him, as if he had just entered her home. He went over to speak with her. She continued to transplant her herbs. “What brings you by?” She wiped a fresh line of mud across her forehead.

Danato shook his head. “I brought the greenhouse instructions.” He waggled a three-ring binder over his head.

“Instructions?” She pursed her lips and shook her head. “There isn’t anything dangerous here.”

“Actually, several plants here are poisonous,” he corrected. “At least to humans.”

Cori scoffed and started scanning the room. “Well… elephant ear causes intense irritation of mouth and tongue which can result in blockage of air to the throat. Rosary pea seeds and castor bean seeds are lethal to humans. Oleander leaves are poisonous.” She started counting them off on her fingers. Danato took in the moment with silent awe. “Laurels, jasmine, and yew are all fatal. Rhubarb leaves of course, and mistletoe, most people know that. There’s nightshade and ‘poison hemlock’ is kind of a dead give-away.”

“Okay, okay.” Danato held up his hands in surrender. “Clearly you are far more qualified for this than I would have guessed.”

“Plant care is a lot about instinct. The basics are simple: water, sun, nutrients, but the balance and amounts of them are the key. When you bake a cake, you weigh your ingredients, throw them together, and bake. A plant’s ingredients change subtly as it grows. What is right today may be too little next month.”

“How on earth do you know about all this?”

“In my former life I was studying horticulture,” she said, eyeballing her newly split sage plant.

“Really?” Danato said, intrigued by this new aspect to her personality.

“Oh.” Cori wiped the dirt off her hands and onto her jeans before moving to an ill-looking tomato plant. “The tomatoes are rotting on the vine. I can fix it but I need a nutrient spray. What I really should do is transplant them into new soil, but that might stunt tomato production altogether, which means I should start a backup now and spray until I get some decent growth, but no matter what, we may be out of fresh tomatoes for at least three months.” Cori looked back at him, waiting for a response.

Danato raised his eyebrows. “Was that a question?”

She grimaced. “I guess not, I just need to find out how to requisition the spray, and who to tell in the cafeteria.”

Danato nodded. “I’ll get you a form, and I’ll… ask Belus. I don’t get to the cafeteria much. Perk of the job, I guess. They deliver my lunch to my office.” He raised the three-ring binder he still held in his hand. “I guess I’ll just put this manual back in my drawer.”

“You can leave it. I’ll need to know how to adjust the timer of the sprayers and drip hoses.” He set the book down on the nearest table, scratched his nose, and fumbled with a file folder he had had tucked under the binder. Cori noticed the folder. “Yes?” she asked, sensing his desire to discuss something.

He looked up and shook his head. “I didn’t say anything.”

“No, but what you
aren’t
saying is being said very loudly.”

He took in a deep breath and strolled through the concrete paths of the greenhouse. He didn’t want to have this discussion but, truthfully, it shouldn’t have been up for discussion. “I have obligations,” he said loud enough to be heard over the fans. “I have to report your existence. I have to essentially put you on the books as an employee.”

She watched him as he wandered. “I’m surprised you haven’t done that already. Do you need my social security card?”

“It was on my to-do list just before you ran off,” he said, ignoring her quip.

“It’s still on your to-do list, I gather.” She started to parallel him down an adjacent path.

“The papers are in here.” He held up the file folder and brought it down with a smack against an innocently bystanding ceramic pot. “I wasn’t going to put your name in, and then I was, and then I wasn’t, and then Ethan…” He stopped midsentence, realizing he was about to blame his renewed devotion to his duties on Ethan. “
I
realized that it was unfair. We had a deal: employment for life.”

Cori cut over to his path and walked beside him. “You want to give me my freedom, but you can’t give Ethan his, so you feel like you’re favoring me. Which Ethan no doubt resents?”

Danato stopped. “That’s the emotional argument. The logical one is: I’d be risking my job to let you go. The location of this place is so top secret, I’m not even sure I wouldn’t be risking your life. It was different when you were with Vince. You certainly couldn’t reveal this place without revealing him.”

She nodded, taking in his words. A glimmer of pain entered her face before she forcibly shook it away. “I came here with a chip on my shoulder. Do you know where I was heading when I got abducted?”

“Where?” he asked.

“To my aunt’s funeral.” The statement seemed laced with bitterness.

“I’m sorry.”

“She lived in Belgium. I was in London going to school for horticulture, as I said. Third year in, almost made it. She was actually supporting my schooling, since my mother had already passed away the year before that, to cancer.” Danato’s mouth opened for a pending question, but she shrugged and answered it before he could ask. “The usual: chemo, radiation, blah, blah, blah. ‘There’s nothing more we can do. Just make her comfortable.’ Ya-da, ya-da.” Cori pushed aside a stray tear.

“What about your father?” Danato asked.

“In the US somewhere, I haven’t seen him since I was seventeen. That’s when they divorced and mom moved back to England with me in tow.”

“You could find him.”

“I’m way past caring about his presence. If he really wanted to stay in contact, he would have. I’ve seen people fight harder for lesser causes than their own blood.” Danato nodded. Having Ethan and Cori around was as close as he would ever get to having children. Even though he was sure it wasn’t the same, he couldn’t imagine not fighting for her.

“When I ran away with Vince,” Cori continued, “there wasn’t anyone to call. There wasn’t anyone to visit. It was just him and me. Now, it’s just me. I don’t imagine life outside of here would be easier with just me. As much as your overbearing rules and regulations irritate me, I really have no desire to leave. At least I know people here. At least you noticed when I was gone.”

“You were very much missed.” He resisted the urge to reach out to her. “Are you sure this isn't just your grief talking.”

“I've been grieving for a long time, Danato. I'm not sure I know how to think when I'm not sad about something.”

“There is something else to consider, before you agree to this. I won’t always be the one being overbearing. What happens to your opinion of this place when you’re taking orders from Ethan?”

Her face scrunched up for a second, before she chuckled. “Why would that be necessary?”

“He will be my successor. That’s why he was brought here. I chose him to replace me when I retire.”

She looked away. She bit her lip in contemplation. “I can handle that. Ethan and I were friendly once, I’m sure we can be again. If… Yeah, that’s going to be hard.”

Danato laughed. “There’s something else you should know.” He walked away. She started to follow, but he turned back abruptly. “I had a wife.” He threw the sentence out of his mouth like a hot coal that was burning his tongue. The memory of her had long since burned his heart.

Cori flinched at the sudden admission. “Okay.”

Danato’s eyes glazed as he lost himself in memories. “She was brought here against her will. She was a fugitive, but hardly one worthy of this place. We fell in love. We married. We had a wonderful life together, short-lived as it was. She died well before her prime.”

Danato’s eyes refocused on Cori and he moved close to her. He could feel the moisture building in his eyes, but he didn’t try to hide it. “I loved her so much, and would have done anything for her. Including free her from this place, even though that meant losing her.” This was the real reason he had so much trouble sending in Cori’s documentation. He felt guilty about trapping yet another woman in this arctic prison.

Cori’s eyes flickered over his a moment. “Why didn’t you?”

“I did, but she wouldn’t leave me. Instead she remained caged with me.”

“She apparently loved you enough to stay in this wretched place. Hardly a death sentence when you’re surrounded by people who care about you.” She gave him a discreet smile, and he once again resisted the urge to hug her. “Sounds like she made her choice,” she continued. “And so have I.”

“I’m flattered that our companionship has impressed you enough to want to be surrounded by it indefinitely. However, I just want to be sure that you understand what you are committing to. You say your grief isn't clouding your judgment, but maybe your fear is.”

Cori seemed to contemplate the question before deciding on an answer. “Well now, I'm starting to think you want to get rid of me.”

Danato chuckled. “No, sweetheart, I assure you, having you around, as troublesome as you are sometimes, is a welcome change.”

“Then I'll stay.”

Danato nodded. He couldn’t understand why she wasn’t trying harder to leave. Aside from loneliness, what did she see here now, that she didn’t see earlier?

“You surprise me.” He looked at the file in his hand. He had been gripping it so tight it had bent in the middle. “I’ll adjust my report and send it in.” He was glad she was staying, even if she was doing it for the wrong reasons.