The Lonely Hearts 06 The Grunt 2 (8 page)

“Are you going to be okay?”

“I’m better now that I see your face, son,” he assured Cameron.  “Everything is going to be much better now.”

“Can you come home with us then?” Cameron asked, looking at Courtney for an answer.

“When he’s better,” she promised.  A beep of her phone turning on startled her.  Evidently, she had missed more than a few texts and calls, some of which had come from Mrs. Riley, Cameron’s biological grandmother, wanting to know why she hadn’t been at the mall yesterday to exchange Cameron for the weekend.  She looked at her husband and decided not to bring it up.  Brett had very strong feelings toward the Riley’s and she didn’t want to spoil his reunion by discussing such a touchy subject or by calling her back in his presence.  When time permitted, she’d reach out and schedule for some time in the future.  She put the phone on vibrate and set to “Do Not Disturb.”.  After all, she had everyone she wanted to talk to right here in this room.   

“I’ll be home before you know it.  It’s not as bad as it looks,” Brett jested as a pain hit him.  He pursed his lips together and breathed through the pain. “They are just going to patch me up and then I’ll be coming home.  You and I will be out in the backyard, playing catch again in a month.”

“I’m getting good, Daddy,” Cameron said with a bright smile.  “Mommy goes out and plays with me every day…except when it rains, and then we practice in the den.”

“You’re lucky to have such a good mother,” Brett said, looking over at Courtney. 

She’d never know how much he appreciated her and all that she’d done for them – how she’d swooped into their lives and saved them from having to be alone.  Now, she had taken on the job of motherhood again as not only a mother to his son but also to his new little daughter.

Brett tried to focus, but his eyes kept wondering over to the little bundle of joy in the Colonel’s arms.  She peered at him quietly, watching his every move and clinging to her grandfather.  He felt a sudden envy of the old man for being able to hold her so close and for building a bond that was obvious to anyone around, including him.

“Is that who I think it is?” Brett asked, looking over at Courtney. He couldn’t explain it but nervous butterflies erupted in his stomach to meet the two-month old. 

Would she like him?  Would she cry?
His mind rambled. 

By now, Courtney was sitting up in her chair, watching on quietly as her son acclimated to the man he had loved his entire life and watching his daughter for the first time be introduced to him.  “That’s your little Bella,” she said, putting her hand over Brett’s. 

Jeffery approached slowly.  “This is your father, Bella,” he said in a soothing voice to the little girl. “Go say hi to your Daddy.”

Brett reached out for her, although his arm was in pain.  He had had many dreams over the last few months about seeing her and holding her for himself, and now that it was finally possible despite the many obstacles that had been thrown before him, there was no way that he was going to miss this opportunity. 

“Can you get her?” Jeffery asked, concerned about Brett’s injury. 

“I’ll make due,” Brett said, his eyes welling with tears again.

“Bella is my little sister, Daddy.” Cameron said, stepping out the way so that Jeffery could pass.  “She likes me,” he said shyly.  “Sometimes, she lets me hold her.” 

“Let’s hope she likes me too,” Brett said, taking a deep breath.

From one set of arms to the other, Bella was passed.  She hesitated to leave her grandfather’s embrace, clinging tightly to his shirt, but finally, she let go and went to Brett.

“Sorry that you had to see me like this on our first meeting,” Brett said, wiping his face as he held her, “but I’ve been waiting a long time to see your face.”

Bella looked into her father’s eyes for a moment as if she was processing his words and then smiled, revealing huge dimples and gums. 

“I think she likes you,” Courtney said, standing up and kissing Brett’s head. Tears fell from her cheeks onto the top of his head. 

Brett was speechless.  Bella was absolutely the most breathtaking little girl he had ever laid eyes on.  Just as he had always wanted, she had her mother’s features, hazel brown eyes, beautiful pink lips, soft skin.  Still, she looked a lot like him, especially her wide-set mouth and the shape of her eyes. 

He rubbed her face.  “I don’t deserve something so special,” he said, kissing Bella’s cheeks. 

Courtney raised a brow.  “Oh, I know.”  She smiled at him.  “She’s a big responsibility, much bigger than the Corps.”

“And when she’s a teenager, much more trouble,” Jeffery quipped.

Brett chuckled.  “Oh, I think I’m up for the task.”

“That’s why I said,” Jeffery rubbing Diane’s shoulders said.  “But nothing ever prepares you for Daddy’s little girl.”

Courtney looked over at her father and felt a swelling of pride inside of her.  “Yeah, but you did a good job, Daddy.”

Diane’s eyes started to get teary.  “My goodness,” she said, wiping her face. “All we’re missing is David.”

***

An hour and a half drive from Wilmington, NC to the sleepy Army town, Fayetteville, NC was not enough time for Leo Tabor to get his story right.  He had practiced it repeatedly as he listened to talk radio, but he still wasn’t sure if he sounded sincere and convincing enough to win over his needed allies.  However, considering recent events, there was no more time to waste.  He had to act faster than the original timeline he set out for himself.     

In truth, he hated coming back to this place, because it brought back so many nauseating memories, but hopefully there was a pot of gold waiting on the other side. 

Glancing over at the passenger seat toward the yellow file folder protecting the only evidence that he had of his confession, he pulled onto the tranquil cove of the Reverend and Mrs. Riley. 

The suburban neighborhood of Willow Landing was a conclave of middle income white Southern Baptists with conservative ideals and controversial views of everyone who didn’t fit into their boorish views, so he had chosen his dress carefully.

As he turned off the engine, he took a deep breath, checked his teeth in the rearview mirror, popped a mint into his mouth and slipped on his shades to cover his dilated eyes. 

Stepping out of his rented Ford Escape, he straightened his navy blue polo shirt and smoothed his hands down his crisp khaki pants.  With the file in his hand, he strode up the front walkway of concrete platform steps amid a perfectly edged, well-sodded lawn to the porch and rang the doorbell. 

A white haired woman in her 60’s opened the door and peered up at him suspiciously through the storm door. “Yes?” she said, a hand on the doorknob.   

“Good morning, ma’am,” Leo said in his kindest southern gentleman’s voice.  “My name is Leo Tabor.  Are you Amy Black’s mother?”

There was hesitation in the woman. No one had referred to her daughter as Amy
Black
in quite some time.  Her eyes narrowed on the folder in the stranger’s hand. Could he be from the airlines?  “I am Sharon Riley, Amy’s mother,” she confirmed, pulling at the lapel of her pink cardigan. “How can I help you?”

That was a fluid question.  It depended.  Leo raised a brow and smacked his lips, as though what he was about to say wouldn’t be handled well. “I don’t know how to quite say this, so I’m just going to say it.  I’m the biological father of Cameron Black.” His dark brown eyes didn’t blink even though the shades covered his eyes.  Swallowing hard, he waited for an explosive response.

Sharon, however, didn’t seem as surprised as he expected.  Unlocking the storm door, she pushed it open to get a better look at the man as he removed his sunglasses.  He had the same chocolate curls as her grandson and the exact same eyes and narrow boney nose. 

“And you are here to do what, may I ask?” she said, as her husband, hearing the conversation approached from the study with his Bible gripped in his hand.

Leo looked over her shoulder at Rev. Riley and then back at the small woman.  “Well, I want my son, ma’am.”

Sharon couldn’t hold back her smile.  Opening the door, she dipped her head to greet him.  “Come on in, Mr. Tabor.  It sounds like we have a lot to discuss.”

Chapter 7

“Sometime they'll give a war and nobody will come.”                                         

~Carl Sandburg

Kevin Daugherty only had a handful of families of the deceased passengers from Flight 3245 that had not devoted time and money to suing Southern Atlantic Airlines (SAA) under a class action lawsuit set to go to the State Supreme Court in a month.  In addition, he had to begin immediately catering to them to ensure that they didn’t become the elephant in the courtroom. 

The debacle happened two years ago when one of SAA’s planes crashed and every single passenger aboard was killed.  SAA’s situation had only been made more difficult when the FAA concluded after a lengthy investigation that the crash was due to faulty wiring on the plane, making the case one of negligence, thus the company was liable for considerable payouts.  

The ensuing public relations fallout had been one big cluster fuck.  All crisis-communications tactics were blown out the window. 

Prior to the crash, millions of dollars had been spent on multi-pronged marketing campaigns, media training and brand awareness to get the newer airline noticed; but the thing that puts Southern Atlantic Airlines on the map was not their savvy marketing, it was the infamous crash.  

For months after the incident, every major media outlet in the country interviewed families of victims, who were primarily families of military personnel with deeply moving stories.  On top of that, social media took on the second wave of the PR nightmare, reminding those who might have otherwise forgotten the crash and that the culprit was SAA. 

The stories and photos that circulated resonated with millions of viewers and increased any potential compensation that the company would be forced to pay along with hampering their ability to successfully compete in the airline marketplace. 

It seemed that potential passengers were more willing to take a bus across the Atlantic before riding on their planes, even with the jaw dropping deals and lower pricing schedules. 

Southern Atlantic Airlines was screwed or, at least according to quarterly stock reports, weekly media stories and potential investors.

After 18 months of lengthy bills and failed negotiations, lawyers for SAA had made the contingency plan simple.  Settle with as many as possible for undisclosed amounts as soon as possible. The clock was ticking and every signature counted.   When they got to court, if the airline only had a few people trying to sue for the maximum amount, they could potentially avoid bankruptcy. 

Kevin was exhausted.  On top of a recent divorce and a less-than-promising parental plan for his 4-year old son, he was fighting to stay afloat with this lawsuit. He had spent long hours in closed-door meetings with lawyers coming up with offers.  He had spent even more time negotiating with some of those who were named in the lawsuit to accept the payout instead of moving forward. Plus, in just the last few weeks in an attempt to shore up money, many employees had taken a pay cut. 

So with all that, why hadn’t he left? 
Because Southern Atlantic Airlines was a family business that his father had put everything in to and neither he nor his four brothers could just walk away from this without giving it everything that they had first.  

Now, he had arrived at the Amy Black case.

Brett Black had been continuously unavailable for meetings over the past last two years, but had named his new wife the executor over the negotiations through a power of attorney.  Oddly enough, Black had been the least emotional out of all the families of the deceased.  He had taken the news quietly. He had refused interviews quietly; he had refused first offers from their lawyers quietly and hopefully he would finally agree to this more generous offer
quietly
.

If more people had been the caliber of Brett Black, maybe their business wouldn’t be sinking. 

Looking at the live check lying in front of him on his smooth sandalwood desk named out to Courtney Black, he picked up the phone in his little box of an office on the 15
th
floor of SAA’s Raleigh, NC headquarters and dialed her number. 

“Hello,” Courtney answered, unloading off the plane from Baltimore to Jacksonville.  She moved as quickly as she could with the crowd of people exiting the terminal. 

“Mrs. Black, its Kevin Daugherty.  I’m glad that I finally reached you.”  He touched the check.  “You’re quite a hard woman to get in touch with these days.”

Pushing her shades up on her head, she rolled her tired neck. “Sorry,” Courtney said, pulling her small luggage with Brett trailing closely behind.  “I’ve been
really
busy.”

“Baby, can I help you with anything?” Brett asked, moving slowly on his crutches.

“No, honey. I’ve got it,” Courtney said emphatically for the 50th time.  She appreciated Brett’s desire not to be helpless, but he really needed to understand that what she needed from him n was just to follow the flow of the crowd.  He had already turned down a wheelchair, not because he didn’t need it, but because he was too proud.  Now, she worried about him falling or being bumped into.  

Kevin inhaled and raised his voice a little so that she could hear him better over the noise in the background. “Well, ma’am, I’d like to drive down to Swansboro and talk to you this week, if I can.”

Courtney frowned, not another appointment.  She had to take Brett to the Naval Hospital for follow-up for his injuries, meet with the pre-school teacher, and meet with the Claims Adjuster about the roof.  “This week really isn’t good,” she said apologetically. 

Kevin wasn’t taking
no
for an answer.  “We’d like to make you a final offer,” he said, hoping she might change her mind.  “I can tell you it’s significantly larger than the first three.  I won’t waste a moment of your time, and there will be no double talk.  I promise you.”

Double talk seemed to be all that these people could do,
Courtney thought to herself.  She turned to her husband and adjusted the heavy bag on her shoulder.  “It’s Southern Atlantic.”  Her voice had a hint of sarcasm in it that she wanted Daugherty to hear.  “They want to drive down and make us a final offer,” she said, hoping that Brett would weigh in and tell them to wait until they were settled back at home.

Brett had nearly forgotten about life stateside with all that happened, especially regarding Amy. For nearly eight months, the only types of choices he had to make were ones of life and death. There were no meetings over there that were not about Ops or calls that were not about strategy. 

Sweat rolled down his face as he fought the pain throbbing in his cast. 
Maybe what he needed to feel normal was to start doing normal things again.
In all honesty, he welcomed shaking up the pace a little.  Plus, he was certain that Courtney could use some help with everything she had been left to take care of.  It was better to just dive back in.  “Okay, well, we’ll be there,” he said, wiping his brow.  “Tell him to come on down.”

Courtney smacked her lips.  “This week is fine,” she said, turning back around with the bags.  She rolled her eyes. “What day?”

“Today’s Monday,” Kevin said, scanning his desk calendar.  “I can be there tomorrow at 11:00 A.M.”  In truth, he’d cancel everything set up for the entire week if he had to. 

“We’ll see you then.” Courtney said, hanging up the phone. 
Great, one more meeting.

Brett stopped after they finally entered into the luggage claim of the airport and took a breath.  It was a long haul for him from the plane and he needed a second. “What did he say?”

Courtney walked up to him, pulled a wet-wipe from her purse and wiped the sweat from her husband’s flushed face.  Looking up into his eyes, she kissed his lips and lingered there for a minute. “He said no double talk and he’s ready to make an offer.”

Brett gripped the handles of his crutches.  “Better than the previous offers?”

“Better than the previous ones,” Courtney answered as she turned on a swivel and saw her father waiting for them in a chair near the door. “Good.  Dad is here.”  She waved toward her Dad and smiled.  “The one thing I love about that man is that he knows nothing if not how to be on time.”

“We could have taken a cab.  I mean, they’ve watched the kids for two weeks; they’ve taken Cameron to school for two weeks.  We could have done this, at least, for ourselves.”  Brett could feel himself getting upset.  Colonel Lawless had to feel as though Brett was behaving a little less than chivalrous with his daughter lugging around her own luggage.  It took a stab at his manhood. 

Courtney put her hand over his as if to hush his thoughts.  “Hey, that’s what family is for, Marine.  Dad and Mom don’t mind.  They volunteered.  They want to help.”

“Yeah, but I feel as though we’re taking advantage of them.”

“That’s because you don’t ever ask anyone for help,” Courtney said, releasing him.  Her smile made her words easier to take.  “Don’t internalize this; be grateful for it.”  Her naturally arched brow rose. 

Brett couldn’t look her directly in the eye; it was like being hypnotized by one of those mythical sea sirens.  “Don’t
shrink talk
me,” he huffed. “Just because you’re in school for it, doesn’t mean that you get to use it on me.”  He glared down at her with mock disgust and a bit of playful banter.

Courtney grinned. “Oh, I’m going to shrink talk you…as soon as we get home.”

Brett couldn’t help but grin then.  They had not been able to get as intimate as he would have liked in the hospital, but his pain management had gotten better and his hopes were high for a little more privacy when they arrived at the house. Plus, that kiss, while short and sweet, woke up something in him that was anything but innocent.

***

The devil was busy, and Jeffery Lawless just couldn’t catch a break from him.  First, he had to break the news to Courtney that her husband had been injured and now this news to Brett. 

He had been at the airport for nearly an hour waiting by the window looking at all the happy people as they passed in and out of the doors with bags of clothes and bright smiles.  The sun was out, shining bright.  The weather was unseasonably nice. And he was left with this fresh hell to yet again wade through, all while promising to someone that things would get better. 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he fought the anxiety building up at him with each passing second. 

He had received the call the night before from his son.  David had called on his private line around three a.m. and had been a complete mess.  The boy had cried on the phone for hours trying to find a way for this to be his fault, but the simple truth of it was that this was war.  Death was a very nasty part of a very nasty business, and if he ever wanted to ascend further up the ranks in the Marine Corps, he had had to learn to deal with it as quietly and discreetly as he could, while they did their jobs. 

David had first wanted word to be sent to Brett at the Naval Hospital, but Jeffery had warned him against it.  He promised his son that he would personally deliver the message to Brett as soon as he arrived back to Jacksonville.   

But now that task felt nearly too hard to bear.

He watched the young couple come out of the terminal bright with hope renewed and encouraged from being with each other, which was a long way from when he had first seen Brett back at the hospital just two weeks ago.  Now, he’d have to suck the life out of the man one more time. 

“Daddy,” Courtney said, walking up and giving him a big hug. She embraced him tightly.  “How are you?”

There was no point in starting the conversation off with a lie. So it was better not to answer.  “How are
you
?” Jeffery asked, redirecting his question. 

She appraised him suspiciously.  “Good. The flight was
okay
, not too bad on Brett,” Courtney answered, seeing stress in his face and the twitch in his eye.  “Everything okay?” She stepped back a little. 

“How are you, sir?” Brett said, offering his hand as he approached. 

“Good to see you, son,” Jeffery said, holding his hand for a second.  “Let me get your bags and get you loaded.”

“I can help,” Courtney said, setting down her bag on the chair.  “Baby, can you watch the luggage while I get our other stuff?” she asked Brett.

“Sure,” Brett said, noticing Lawless’ weird mood also.  Something about him seemed off.

Jeffery and Courtney walked over to the baggage area and waited for their things to come around on the carousel.  Brett decided to take a second and have a seat.  Resting on the bench, he watched from afar, as Jeffery leaned into his daughter and whispered something to her.  She looked up abruptly and paused, then looked over at Brett.

“What in the hell is going on now?” Brett asked under his breath.  Pulling nicotine gum from his pocket, he popped one in his mouth and looked at his watch.  Not being able to smoke was driving him insane and with Courtney not knowing about the snuff thing, it forced him to really quit.  Maybe he could find a way to send her out of the house on an errand so that he could bum a smoke from the neighbor. It would be just his luck that Joe had quit while he was away also.

As they brought the luggage back with them, Brett got up and balanced himself on his crutches.  “Let’s get this show on the road,” he said as Courtney walked back up to him.