If you’re a writer, find the time (about 20 minutes) to watch this video. It’s not about writing. It’s creating a life where you are radiantly alive and you’re living the life you want.

How many of us wait until the moment when we’re able to write? How many of us play the “if/then” game? (If I get on the New York Times Bestseller’s list, then I’ll be happy.)

Life’s too short to be wasted.

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If you’ve been around this limb for a while, you might remember me talking about the Croke Patterson Mansion.

From Legends of America :

Built in 1890 by Thomas B. Croke, this sandstone residence was one of the country’s most elegant homes. Now serving as an office building, it is also said to be one of the most haunted.

According to the legend Thomas B. Croke, only entered the palatial mansion one time and was so emotionally shaken by “whatever” was there, that he never returned. Just two years later it was sold to Thomas M. Patterson, who’s family kept the home for several decades. Over the next several years, the building served many purposes, including a dance studio, a radio station, and a boarding house before it was converted to an office building. During the renovation to office space in the 1970’s, construction crews began to experience a number of strange occurrences.

After a long days work, they would often return the next day to find that the tasks they had completed the day before had been “undone.” After this had occurred several times, guard dogs were left to protect the property from what the workmen thought might be intruders. However, the next day they found the two Doberman Pinschers dead on the sidewalk after having apparently jumped from a third-story window. Once the renovation to office building was complete, employees almost immediately began to notice equipment, such as typewriters, copy machines, and telephone that mysteriously began to operate by themselves.

When a séance was held to determine who was haunting the building, they found it to be the spirit of a little girl whose body was supposedly entombed in the cellar. However, when the basement was excavated, they found a hidden chamber was found, filled with sea sand, but no remains of a little girl.

A ghostly image has often been sighted gliding up and down the main floor stairway and otherworldly voices have been heard here as well. Thomas Patterson, former owner of the home, is said to have been spied numerous times in the courtyard between the mansion and the carriage house.

When the building still served as an apartment building, occupants on the lower levels were known to complain about wild parties taking place on the third level. But, when these parties were investigated, they would be met with only silent emptiness.

(Photo gallery of Croke Patterson mansion)

I’ve read that it’s the second most haunted building in Colorado and in the top ten buildings for the Western United States.

My first psychotherapy office was in the Croke Patterson Mansion from 1996-1997. (My office was the door to the left next to the second floor mirror.) when a Veterinarian purchase the office building with the desire to turn it into a private residence. He and his new wife moved into the home with her two children. They turned the house into a private residence then went bankrupt. The house has been empty for at least two years.

It’s been for sale for at least a year.  Originally it was for sale for 1.3 million dollars. At last check, it was $495,000.  D asked me a number of times if I wanted to look at it. Usually, I love to look at old houses, and I love to house shop. But I wouldn’t allow myself to get drawn into the demons, ghosts, and otherwise evil spirits of the place.

Someone has recently purchased the home.

May God have mercy on their souls.

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Let’s get living! Happy Monday!

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We had a couple of gorgeous days of spring… Now back to our usually scheduled rain and snow.

Oh well, at least we have Mutterings. These tiny little word prompts (created by the birthday girl Pea at LunaNina) help refresh the mind and soul. Or at least they are fun to do.

How do you play? Simply answer the word prompts in the comment section. When you’re done, take a look at what other people have said. It’s an awesome way to see how different and similar we are.

Here are your prompts:

1. Detective ::
2. Bangs ::
3. Consultant ::
4. Puzzle ::
5. Learn ::
6. Necklace ::
7. 184 ::
8. Stimulation ::
9. Layered ::
10. Police ::

Here are my answers:

1. Detective :: novel
2. Bangs :: She
3. Consultant :: Business
4. Puzzle :: Business
5. Learn :: ing how to interact with business consultants is a puzzle
6. Necklace :: diamond
7. 184 :: diamonds
8. Stimulation :: fantasy
9. Layered :: silk
10. Police :: Denver

Happy Sunday! When you play I’ll link to you here!

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Previous Chapters
Recap of the Beginning and character summary

CHAPTER NINETY-ONE

Sunday — 11:16 A.M.

“Heather!”

Blane yelled as he ran in the house. Slamming the door, he ran toward where he could hear her voice.

“Heather?”

“We’re in here,” she said.

He jogged toward the den off the kitchen. Heather was sitting in a rocking chair with Mack on her shoulder.

“Hi,” she said. “How are you?”

“Missed you guys,” Blane said. “Can I?”

“Sure.”

Standing, Heather held Mack out to him. Impulsively, Blane hugged them both. Heather laughed. He kissed her cheek then took Mack from her. Mack made a happy sound in recognition of Blane. He kissed Mack’s face then settled him on his shoulder.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“I’ve been at the hospital with Sam and…. I’m just happy to have you guys.” He smiled at her. “That’s all.”

She hugged him.

“Sorry you missed church,” Blane said.

“Mack and I went with the girls. We just got back,” Heather said. “He was an angel.”

“You fed him before you went?”

“In the car. Like his Mama, he’s happy with a full belly,” Heather laughed. “Can I get you something?”

“No, I’m just home for a shower. I have to help Jake today. Does that work for you?”

“Of course,” Heather said.

“Jake’s has a big mess today. The sites were closed yesterday and the Castle’s falling down and… Oh it doesn’t matter.”

Blane kissed Mack’s cheek and held his arm out for Heather. She tucked herself into him.

“How’s Delphie?” Heather asked.

“She still thinks she’s dead,” Blane said. “If we weren’t so freaked out for her, it would be pretty funny. She comes home tomorrow.”

“Are you working at the Castle?”

Blane nodded. Shifting away, he gave Mack back to her.

“I should keep moving. Let’s have dinner tonight,” he said. “Just us. I’ll make something yummy.”

“It’s a date,” Heather said.

“You’re sure you’re all right? You seem a little blue.”

“There was a note from Enrique when I got back,” Heather said.

“Oh? What did it say?” Blane asked.

He pointed up the stairs to the shower. She followed him up.

“I didn’t open it,” she said.

“Go ahead.”

While he got ready to shower, she and Mack went back downstairs to get Enrique’s note. He was in the shower when she returned.

“He says that he’s been sober for four days. He moved out of his house and Calvin is moving out at the end of the month. He starts with a therapist tomorrow.”

“Anything else?” Blane asked.

“He loves you,” she said.

“Why would a note from Enrique make you blue?”

“Oh,” Heather said. “What am I going to do when you and Enrique get back together?”

“You’re my wife,” Blane said. “He’s my past. I don’t get the conflict.”

“You wouldn’t,” Heather said. She was halfway down the stairs when he caught up with her.

“Hey! Don’t do that,” he said. “Please. We don’t do this. We’re honest, say what’s on our minds. We don’t play these games.”

She nodded. Naked and dripping water, he took her hand and led her back to the bathroom. He pointed to the toilet and she sat down. She settled Mack in her arms while he finished showering. She gave him a towel when he stepped out of the shower.

“What’s going on?” Blane asked.

“I’m feeling sorry for myself,” Heather said.

“The doctor said we should watch for post partum depression because you’ve been depressed before. Is this the same?”

“I just…”

Blane wrapped the towel around his trim waist. Heather fussed with Mack to keep having to admit her sadness.

“Delphie told me today that you and I are soul mates,” Blane said.

Heather’s head jerked up.

“It sounds crazy,” he said. “But she says there are types of soul mates that aren’t lovers or romantically involved or whatever we’re doing. She said your soul and my soul are linked. We’re supposed to be together, to make a family together. That’s why it took one conversation on a plane and we’ve been happy ever since. You’re happy, right?”

“Very happy,” Heather said. “That’s the problem. I’m terrified it will go away. You’ll get together with Enrique and I’ll…”

“I’m not going anywhere. Do you want to go anywhere?”

Heather shook her head.

“I’ve never been this happy,” Blane said. “I’ve been at that hospital all weekend. Before you and Mack came along, I was completely alone. Even with Sam and Val and Jake and everyone else, you make my family. If I get involved with someone else, he’ll just have to deal with that. You and I are soul mates. Does that feel true?”

“Delphie told me we were meant to be together on the plane,” Heather said. “She just seemed so odd that I…”

“She’s much odder now that she’s convinced that she’s dead. She won’t speak directly to anyone but Sam and Jake. She makes commentary to the rest of us. ‘Oh Jake, you know Blane and Heather are soul mates.’ It’s pretty odd.”

Heather nodded.

“Are you depressed?”

“I don’t think so,” Heather said. “I’m tired.”

“It’s a lot – a newborn and all this drama. Do we have Molly’s kids again today?”

“No, Pete and Aden are moving to Canon City this afternoon. Molly’s home with them.”

“I can stay home today…”

“No, go. Jake wouldn’t ask for help if he didn’t really need it,” Heather said. “They’ve been really amazing since Mack was born.”

“Why don’t I make some brownies before I go?”

“On the diet again,” Heather shook her head. “I’m still have twenty pounds to lose.”

“Tell you what,” he said. “Tomorrow, we’ll workout together. Running, lifting, only healthy food. But today I’ll make you…”

“Chocolate cake?”

“Coming right up,” he said. “Can you take it easy today? Watch movies and hang out with Mack?”

“He’s not too much work,” she nodded.

“Should I call the girls?”

“No, you’re right. I just need a break.”

He nodded. Sitting on their bed, she followed him into their bedroom and watched him get dressed.

“Do you want to move back into your bedroom?” she asked. “You’re not sick anymore and Mack…”

“No,” Blane said. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my entire life. Do you want your own bedroom?”

She shook her head.

“Let it rest, Heather,” he said. “Everything is fine. Come on, let’s make a cake.”

He picked up Mack’s bassinette and carried it to the kitchen. They settled him on the counter and laughed their way through making a cake. Blane frosted one layer of cake in the pan. He gave her the frosted warm cake.

“I never did this for Enrique,” he said. “I would only let him have a completed project. No samples. You get anything you ask for. Ask me and it’s yours.”

“Do you love me?”

“I do,” he said.

“Oh, really?” she blushed.

“Yes,” he said. “Do you love me?”

“Yes, a lot,” she said. Her eyes welled with tears.

“And sex?”

“Not since we tried it that time,” she gave him a watery smile. “Too weird.”

“Weird is a word for it,” he laughed.

“But…”

“No buts. Let’s just enjoy it.”

“No buts.” She nodded.

He held her tight, kissed her cheek, squeezed her hand then went out the door. Heather smiled.

Everything was fine. She was loved. She was happy. He was happy. She’d just have to get used to it.

~~~~~~~~

Sunday — 1:35 P.M.

Jill looked across the kitchen table at Sandy and Honey. Valerie sat down next to her at the table.

“I asked you guys…”

There was a crash from the living room where Jake, Blane and a crew of men worked to clear the wreckage from the incident with Levi Johansen. The women looked toward the kitchen door. They were filling a second roll off dumpster with debris and furniture.

Honey, MJ and Sam had moved out of their wing of the Castle. With the Chapel destroyed, a portion of the Castle was no longer structurally stable. Sam had moved into an apartment on the second floor while MJ and Honey had moved into an apartment in the basement. Jacob had installed a stair lift so Honey could get to the gym. She would be able to get up and down the stairs to the basement when MJ wasn’t home.

Valerie got up to switch off the screaming tea kettle.

“Tea?” Valerie asked.

The women shook their heads. Valerie made herself some peppermint tea and sat back down.

“Why did you want to talk to us Jill?” Valerie asked.

“Delphie usually cooks all our meals,” Jill started.

“She puts groceries in our refrigerator,” Sandy said.

“Ours too,” Honey said. “I haven’t been to the grocery store since we moved in here. Delphie has taken care of all of that.”

“Right,” Jill said. “I think we need to assume she won’t do that for a while.”

“What do the doctors say?” Sandy asked.

“Her brain damage, plus her psychic predisposition, have precipitated in a mental state…” Valerie stopped. Her eyes welled with tears. “She thinks she’s dead. They don’t know if she’ll get better. There isn’t a med or a therapy or…”

Overwhelmed with sadness, Valerie stopped talking. A fat tear slid down her beautiful face. Jill put her hand on Valerie’s shoulder. Valerie wiped her face.

“We need to start taking care of some of the things around here,” Jill said. “Like the dogs, the house cleaning, the cooking, the shopping, and eventually the gardens. Did Mike turn the beds yesterday?”

“He’s doing it now. He’s worried about me and Delphie… He’s nervous about tonight’s art opening,” Valerie wiped her eyes. “We need to find someone to take care of the bees.”

“Is Nash still taking martial arts?” Honey asked Sandy.

“I was just thinking I could ask Colin about the bees,” Sandy said. “Good idea Honey.”

“What should we do about dinner? Do we still want to eat together?”

“I really like it,” Honey said. She blushed at her own exuberance. Valerie squeezed Honey’s hand. “It’s the best part of my day, especially since I’ve been doing this trial or when MJ’s gone.”

“I like it too,” Jill said. “Sandy?”

“Absolutely,” Sandy said. “It’s nice not to have dinner to worry about. Honestly, I don’t know if I can afford groceries for us. We still don’t have Aden’s money and probably won’t.”

“I can cover it,” Jill and Valerie said at the same time. They smiled at each other.

“We’ll get it covered,” Valerie said. “You need groceries for…”

“Breakfast, lunch, baking and dinners for nights Nash has soccer or Noelle has art class,” Sandy said. “With the kids, it’s probably a thousand, fifteen hundred a month, maybe more. These kids aren’t used to American cheese and hot dogs.”

“Ok, so someone needs to do the household shopping or organize a list if we want it delivered,” Valerie said.

“I don’t think the delivered stuff is as good,” Honey said.

“It’s expensive and you don’t get to pick your own vegetables,” Jill said.

“I’ll shop,” Honey said. “I think it would be fun.”

The women gawked at her. Sandy shifted uncomfortably.

“What?” Honey asked.

“Can you shop?” Valerie asked.

“Of course I can shop!” Honey said. “At least I think I can. Just because I’m in this wheelchair and have limited use of my hands doesn’t mean I can’t do it.”

“How about this?” Sandy asked. “Honey organizes the shopping and Jill or I will go with her to help.”

“I can go,” Valerie said.

“You and a billion photographers,” Jill said.

“I can still go,” Valerie said. “The photographers can’t go in the store.”

“Ok, one of us will go with Honey to help,” Sandy said. “Does that work?”

“I wonder if we could get Blane to cook dinner for us,” Valerie said. “He’s an amazing chef.”

Jill and Sandy gave Valerie a puzzled look.

“He went to Chef’s school. He used to be a Sous Chef at the Capital. He’s really amazing. Have you had his chocolate cake?”

“To. Die. For.” Jill said. Sandy nodded.

“He’d probably do it,” Valerie said. “But with Mack and everything, it’s kind of a lot to ask.”

“I can cook,” Jill said.

The women looked at her with doubt.

“Really,” Jill said. “I used to cook all our meals when I was a kid. That was my household job. I’m not a Chef, but I can cook. With school and working for Jake, I have time to do it.”

“I’ll make bread and pastries,” Sandy said. “That would be fun for me.”

“I’ll work out a menu for the week,” Honey said. “I’ll coordinate everyone’s contributions into a schedule and do the shopping.”

“Wow, that’s a lot Honey. Are you sure?” Valerie asked.

“I want to do it,” Honey said. “MJ and I… We really like living here. It’s the least I can do.”

“What will I do?” Valerie asked.

“You’re going back to Prague, right?” Jill asked.

“Next Sunday. But I’ll be home in four weeks. Then I’m here until we have the baby.” Valerie’s face clouded again. “If we have the baby.”

Jill hugged Valerie. Valerie sighed then pushed her sadness away.

“When I get back, I can help run the household. If Delphie’s not better, we’ll need to plant the gardens, mow the lawn, take care of the maintenance, and…”

“Delphie does a lot for us,” Sandy said.

The women nodded.

“We need to do this for her,” Jill said.

“We can do this,” Honey said. “I’ll get everything organized. Maybe I’ll ask Blane if he could cook Sunday dinner.”

“That’s a great idea,” Sandy said. “We can have everyone here for Sunday dinner. I’d like that.”

The women nodded in agreement to Sandy.

“We can do this,” Jill repeated.

“I wish we didn’t have to,” Honey said.

~~~~~~~~

Sunday afternoon — 2:45 P.M.

“You know you’re alive,” Celia chided Delphie.

“I know nothing of the kind,” Delphie replied.

They were sitting outside on a small patio. Delphie had begged for some time to herself. Sam had helped her to the patio then left her to her self. She’d spent most of her meditation arguing quietly with Celia.

“Can you feel pain? Sadness? Rage?” Celia asked.

“Yes,” Delphie said.

“Then you’re alive,” Celia said. “Why would you want to be dead?”

“I’m dead like you,” Delphie said.

“Then why can Sam see you?” Celia asked. “Talk to you? Hold your hand?”

“What are you? The alive or dead police?”

“I’m your best friend,” Celia said. “I want you to live every moment of this life to its fullest. It’s a miracle that you’re still alive.”

“No, I’m not.”

“It’s unlike you to be so stubborn. What’s going on with you?”

Delphie looked at the apparition of her best friend, her beloved Celia. She had no logical response to Celia’s sincere and loving question. Delphie’s mind drifted to the crushing moment she felt completely alone. Lying on the Castle living room floor, Delphie knew she would be alone for an eternity. Losing everyone was the most horrible thing that had ever happened to her. Delphie shook the loss from her head.

“Why is it better to be dead?” Celia asked.

Like a tiny spark, her mind replied: ‘I can’t lose them again.’ The spark was gone before Delphie was even aware it.

“It’s not better. It just is,” Delphie said.

Celia laughed.

~~~~~~~~

Sunday evening — 5:15 P.M.

“But why can’t I take out Melinda?” Nash whined. “Dad would let me date.”

Nash had returned from snowboarding angry and ready for a fight. He’d been needling Sandy for weeks about dating. Tonight he would not let up. Noelle had tried to intervene, but finally gave up and went to her room.

“Your father is not here,” Sandy said. “Get dressed. We’re leaving in a few minutes.”

“You think of me as a child!” Nash shifted into a full blown rant. “You want me to be a little itty baby. I’m not a baby. I have a job! I want to have a girlfriend! How hard is that?”

“Nash,” Sandy touched the boy’s shoulder. He shrugged her off. “Why are you so angry tonight?”

“Why do you care? You just want me to do what I’m told and shut up. Well, I’M NOT GOING TO SHUT UP.”

With all her might, Sandy wished Delphie was here. Delphie always knew how to handle Nash when he was angry.

“Good to know,” Sandy said.

“I HATE you” Nash gestured at her with his cast. “And I HATE this!”

He stomped down the hall to his room. The apartment vibrated when he slammed his door. Sandy plopped down on the couch. She heard Noelle try to talk to Nash. He screamed at her. Dressed in her best dress, Noelle came out to sit on the couch next to Sandy. The little girl and the woman sat on the couch staring at nothing for few moments. Sandy sighed.

“I better go talk to him,” Sandy said.

Sandy went down the hall and to Nash’s bedroom. Opening the door, she found him lying face down on the bed. She sat next to him on the bed and softly stroked his back.

“Nash,” Sandy said. “Dating is a big deal. If you want to take Melinda, or any girl out, you have to have the skills to do it well. Otherwise, it’ll just be hard and awkward.”

“Why do you think I don’t have the skills?”

“I don’t know if you do or don’t,” Sandy said. “We need to figure out what you need to learn. When you’re ready, you can ask Melinda out. You didn’t give me a chance to say that before you got so upset.”

“She probably hates a loser like me anyway,” Nash said.

“She’s going to Mike’s art opening tonight,” Sandy said. “You could see if she hates you there.”

Nash didn’t move or say anything.

“I know this has been really hard on you,” Sandy said. “It’s hard for all of us. But it only works if we’re a team. When you’re upset, we’re upset. Do you really hate this?”

Sandy leaned forward when she heard a ‘No.’

“We’re all heartbroken about Delphie,” Sandy said.

Nash’s back began to heave.

“She’s coming home tomorrow.”

Nash rolled over. He threw himself into Sandy’s arms. Sandy held the crying boy.

“I should have done something,” Nash said. “I didn’t do anything for Dad and I didn’t do anything for you and I didn’t do anything for Delphie and…”

“You did something for all of us,” Sandy said.

“No I didn’t,” Nash said. “I let you get hurt and…”

“You loved us,” Sandy said. “That’s all that matters to me, your Dad and Delphie.”

“It’s not enough,” Nash said. “Dad’s in a coma and Delphie’s in the hospital and…”

Hearing a noise, Sandy turned to see Noelle standing in the doorway. Crying, Noelle ran to the bed to join their hug. She held the weeping children.

No amount of cookies or brownies would fix this situation. Sandy was at a loss for what to do to make things better. She just hung on for dear life. After a few minutes, she sighed.

“We need to get ready to go,” she said. “This is a big day for our friend Mike. He’s asked us to be there with him. He’s pretty nervous. I think we would be crummy friends if we let our own problems keep us from being there for him.”

Nash and Noelle nodded.

“Sometimes, we have to just put away what we feel so we can be there for someone else,” Sandy said.

“Is that what you do with us?” Nash asked.

“Sometimes,” Sandy said. “Sometimes I feel sorry for myself and eat Girl Scout cookies.”

“What kind of Girl Scout cookies?” Nash asked.

“Any,” Sandy smiled. She stroked his hair then hugged him. “Are we all right?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“Are we all right?” Sandy hugged Noelle.

“Of course,” Noelle said. “Nash, you have to get dressed. Fancy dress.”

“I do?” Nash returned to whining.

“Dating skill #1,” Sandy said. “You have to be able to dress up even when you don’t feel like it. And fast. You have five minutes.”

Nash hopped off the bed and began rifling through his closet. Chuckling to herself, Sandy led Noelle from his bedroom. Five minutes on the mark, Nash arrived from his bedroom in dress pants, a nice shirt and a jacket. Sandy helped him with his tie.

They jogged down the stairs and out to the driveway where they joined Jill, Jacob, Katy, Honey, and MJ in the back of a limousine.

“Everything all right?” MJ asked Nash. “You seemed a little upset.”

“I need to learn dating skills,” Nash said.

“Don’t we all,” Jacob said.

At that moment, the driver took off from the Castle. They were off to Mike’s big event.

~~~~~~~~

Denver Cereal is a serial fiction set in Denver, Colorado.
You can get your daily dose of Denver Cereal at DenverCereal.com
Chapters are posted on Saturdays on this blog.
Download your free electronic copy of Denver Cereal, the beginning, and Celia’s Puppies.
Like printed books? Go here or Amazon for a print copy of the Denver Cereal;
Go here or Amazon for the recently released Celia’s Puppies.
Claudia Hall Christian is a novelist.

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Previous Chapters

CHAPTER FIVE

“Why is the resolution of every B horror movie so anti-climatic?” Raz asked.

He stood between Matthew and Troy watching Alex work. Standing on a chair, Alex played eeny, meeny, miny, moe with the square at the top of the north wall.

“Because it’s a resolution?” Troy replied. “Alex, have you found a…”

Alex hit the last square and there was a soft click. A door sized one-inch depression appeared in the wall. Alex cursed.

“Our exit is covered…” She started.

Troy punctured the depression with the knife from his mini-tool. The small blade stuck in the dry wall. Pulling a nine inch bowie knife from its sleeve on his leg, Matthew held the larger knife up to Troy.

“Now, this is a knife.” Matthew gave his best Crocodile Dundee.

“Don’t start dissing my mini-tool or…”

“OLIVAS. MAC CLENAGHAN.” Alex jumped down from her chair. “Knock it off.”

Mumbling, ‘He started it,’ the men cut the dry wall around the door. Raz grabbed pieces and threw them off to the side. They revealed a metal sliding door.

“Hutchins? Tell the Jakker we’ll be five minutes,” Alex said.

Vince relayed the message to Alex’s Sergeant then disconnected her pocket computer.

“Gas masks. Check to make sure your oxygen is working. Check the person next to you.”

The men put on their gas masks then checked each other.

“Special Forces first,” Alex commanded. “Prisoner in the middle. Agent Rasmussen and Captain Hutchins and I will take the back.”

Sliding open the metal door, Troy revealed another concrete door. He groaned. Alex swatted him out of the way. There was a combination lock on the door. She opened the padlock then stepped aside. Matthew and Troy pulled open the door.

“Everyone. Guns out. We do not know what we’ll encounter. Let’s make certain we are on guard.” Seeing Jessie ahead, she said, “Ok. Go.”

Alex put on her mask when Matthew and Troy ran down the tunnel. Raz checked her oxygen. Reaching a turn, Troy ran ahead. Matthew signaled for the Weasel and his guards to enter the tunnel. Alex watched their backs as they moved down the tunnel. Raz nudged Alex into the tunnel.

They heard the sharp report of machine gunfire.

“Go,” Alex yelled.

Raz and Vince ran down the tunnel. Using all her strength, Alex yanked the cement door closed then reset the lock. Running down the tunnel, she found Raz waiting for her. They ran together down the rest of the tunnel.

“They were shooting so Zack would notice them.” Raz shouted through the mask. “They are going up on wires.”

“Can you make a wire?” Alex asked.

“No other option,” Raz said.

Alex shook her head at his usual response to his back pain. She opened her mouth to ask again about his option to have surgery then realized it was pointless. He was going to do what he was going to do.

They slowed at the entrance. Troy and Matthew had hacked enough space to step around the enormous Cottonwood tree trunk that grew over the tunnel’s entrance. On fire, the tree dropped flame and ember in the opening. Raz stepped a leg through the opening. Pressing his chest against the smoldering tree trunk, he shifted to pull his other leg through.

His back seized. With Alex pushing on one side, and Vince pulling on the other, they managed to get him through opening.

When Alex stepped, her left hip cramped. Vince pulled her through the opening. They stood in a small clearing surrounded by burning timber. She pointed to the wire. Vince clipped himself to the wire and went up with Raz.

Her forgotten ear bud squealed then began working.

“Heya Alex,” Zack said. “I’ve got everyone. You gonna hike out?”

Alex waved up to him. She saw movement in the passenger compartment and Troy slid down with a wire. Hooking her to the wire, he wrapped himself around her.

“To what do I owe this pleasure,” Alex yelled through her mask.

“Lost a bet,” he laughed. “Your hip’s off. I didn’t think you could make the wire.”

She smiled her thanks. At the passenger compartment, the men pulled Alex and Troy into the compartment. They piled their gear and masks into a cargo container then took their seats.

“Where to?” Zack asked through the intercom.

“Super Max,” Alex replied. “We’re taking this one home.”

“WAIT!” The Weasel screamed.

Troy pulled the helicopter door closed and the men clicked into their seats. Following Alex’s lead, they ignored the Weasel protests. The helicopter flew across Southern Colorado then slowed as they approached the United States Penitentiary Administration Maximum Facility.

“Last chance,” Alex said. “Talk now or forget it.”

The Weasel motioned her to sit next to him on the helicopter. She responded by forcing him to sit next to her. Untaped and undocumented, for the remainder of the trip, the Weasel told Alex everything he knew about the murder of the Fey Special Forces Team. When the helicopter landed, the Weasel’s mouth closed. Without saying another word, he and his guards left the helicopter.

“What was that?” Raz asked.

Alex shook her head. Buckling into her seat, she stared out the window at the dark clouds of the snowstorm.

What was that indeed?

FFFFF

Two hours later
Tuesday Night
March 25 – 7:30 P.M. MDT
Military Intelligence, Buckley Air Force Base

Alex waited until the last of the men checked through medical before returning to her office. She sent her Sergeant home, shut off the phones then began filing out the stack of paperwork on her desk. Every assignment came with at least one stack of papers. This year, she and the men had completed one stupid assignment after another until the paperwork towered on Alex’s desk. Flipping on her coffee maker, she settled in for a long night.

The coffee maker had finished its last burble when a coffee mug entered her line of site. She looked up to see her boss, Colonel Howard Gordon. He was wearing a dark cap and his overcoat as if he stopped by on his way home.

“I was surprised you didn’t look up when I came in,” he said. “Fascinating paper work?”

“Oh…” She sighed. “I fill in the boxes while I think about something else. I was miles away.”

He sat down across from her.

“How did it go today?” he asked.

“Which part?”

He laughed.

“You might have missed the reports, but there was an incident while attempting to interview the Weasel.” Alex shrugged. “I know you’re busy.”

“Yes, Major. I missed entirely the destruction of a national wilderness area.”

“I guess that’s not funny,” she said. Holding up a stack of pages, she added, “But it does provide for some excellent paperwork opportunities!”

“You have a Sergeant to do your paperwork,” he said. “You have a second in command. Hell, you have an intelligence officer in training who has nothing to do.”

“Oh shit, I completely forgot about him,” Alex said. “Is he still locked away at Fort Carson?”

“He was released by Captain Mac Clenaghan. While you were with Agent Rasmussen at the hospital, Captain Mac Clenaghan drove to Fort Carson for Sergeant Flagg. They are on their way to Denver right now.”

“Oh, thank God,” Alex said. She took a long drink of her coffee. “See, my second in command can’t do the paperwork. He’s busy with Flagg.”

“Major Drayson.”

“Yes sir,” Alex said.

“How did it go with your team?”

“What team?” Alex asked. “They fought with each other. They thought I was crazy. I had to yell at them to knock it off more than once. They were like competent tornados each working toward their own end. I… “

She shook her head.

“I suck,” she said. “I can’t do this ‘command a team’ thing.”

“Every leader feels that way sometimes,” Colonel Gordon said. “You need to get your feet under you.”

“I was wondering, sir, if I might join a team?”

Colonel Gordon’s scowled. This was not the first time he had heard this request.

“I’d happily take a lower rank and…”

He opened his mouth to say something then changed his mind. Shaking his head, he looked away from her.

“There are two wars going on, sir,” she said. “I’m an okay intelligence officer. And as you know, there’s more than a hundred people held hostage in the world at any given time. I could join the team that replaced us and…”

“Alexandra Hargreaves!”

“Sir?”

She scanned his face. His bushy eyebrows betrayed his worry over his obvious anger. She smiled as if he caught her with her hand in the cookie jar. He sighed.

“Maybe I could go back to drawing maps?” She gave him a big smile.

“Alex.” Pulling his cap off, he ran a hand through is bushy gray hair. “Every leader goes through exactly what you’re feeling. Hell, I’ve had many sleepless nights over this very same issue. The key is to find what works for you.”

“Charlie was so…”

“Charles O’Brien is dead, Alex,” Colonel Gordon said. “He was an exceptional man, a natural leader, and my friend. But he is gone. You have to learn to carry on without him.”

Nodding, Alex pursed her lips to keep from displaying her desperate grief at the words: ‘Charles O’Brien is dead.’

“Listen,” Colonel Gordon said. “I’m sorry. I see so much potential in you and wish you could see it yourself. You collected these men from assignments around the world. They came to here to work with you. Each man is the best soldier in his class. Period. And they aren’t easy. You didn’t pick them because they were easy. You picked them because they were your friends. And they left great assignments to work here with you.”

“But sir…”

“They’re pains in the ass. Every single one of them. Did you hear the feed from the Jakker while he waited for you? He disobeyed a direct order to return to base. A big fat ‘fuck you’ from the Jakker.”

“Are their repercussions to his defiance?”

“Christ, Alex. That’s my point. Everything the Jakker does is defiant.”

Alex shrugged.

“It might help if you filled the other slots in your team with neutral players,” Colonel Gordon said. “You still need…”

“No Marines,” she said. “I’ve never had good luck with Marines, sir.”

“You need at least one more Navy and two Marines. That’s not to mention your glaring lack of medics.”

“See, I suck as a leader.”

Alex tried her ‘please-sir-can-I-stop-doing-the-job-I-suck-at’ smile. Colonel Gordon glared in response. Her smile faded.

“The Fey Special Forces Team’s first year was not easy, you know.”

“But we had…”

“Charlie,” they said together.

“Yes,” he said. He softened. “Listen, I’ve never known anyone who has continued working after what you have been through. Most people retire.”

“I could retire,” she said. “Ben said he’s retiring this year. I could…”

“You know you cannot retire,” he said. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I could draw maps.”

Her eyes lit up with glee at the idea of retreating into the solitary joy of cartography.

“The Admiral would like you to return to extracting hostages. You’re supposed to be…”

“Creating a team that will extract hostages around the world,” Alex finished his sentence. “Problem is? I suck.”

“Alexandra.”

“Ok, you know what I’m really good at?” She pointed to the paperwork on her desk. “Paperwork is my specialty.”

Colonel Gordon raised his hands in submission to her sarcasm.

“What do you need to make this work?” he asked. “I’m authorized to give you any resource, training…”

“I need Joseph Walter,” she said. “He would know how to pull this team together. You’re right. We need to a few neutral members. He’d know how to choose the right people.”

While Colonel Gordon nodded his head, he eyes spoke his remorse.

“But?” she asked.

“It’s complicated. Fort Carson had dibs on him for their training staff. He can’t come here and be there. You know that.”

Alex nodded. She did know that. She just hoped for the help she needed. Sometimes she felt as if she was set up to fail. She sighed at her no-win situation.

“Don’t give up, Alex,” he said. “That’s really what I came in here to say. Everyone struggles, especially their first year. Just don’t give up.”

Picking up his cap, he stood to leave. He stopped in front of a photograph of the Fey Special Forces Team goofing for the camera. The photo was taken after they had rescued their first hostages – five journalists from the jungles of Central America. Colonel Gordon leaned closer to look at their faces. They seemed so young and happy. He stepped back from the photo.

“What did the Weasel have to say?”

“Nothing. Everything. Who knows?” Alex replied. “There are so many little itsy bitsy pieces to this puzzle. Somehow they fit together, but how? I have no idea how to connect the dots.”

“Perses was there? I always thought he was a myth or legend.”

“Perses accepted a contract to assess the viability of a hit on the Fey and the Weasel. He led us to Shelter 17. I probably could have found it but not in time. Plus he had the key.”

“Odd behavior for an assassin.”

“He owes me a favor or six. And, yes sir, he’s odd.”

“Well good night,” Colonel Gordon said. “We’ll talk again tomorrow.”

“Yes sir.”

“And Alex, go home. You’ve done enough today,” he said. “Let Sergeant Flagg become an expert in paperwork.”

“Yes sir,” she said.

He raised a hand in ‘good-bye’ then walked out of her office. Looking from stack to stack, she finished her mug of coffee then poured another. She wandered to the place where Colonel Gordon stood. Her finger touched each face.

“Go home, Alex,” Jesse said appearing beside her. “There are no answers here.”

Nodding to Jesse, Alex dressed in her winter gear. Limping on her injured hip, she pulled her office door closed.

“Walk you to your car?” Jesse asked.

She nodded.

“Did I ever tell…?”

FFFFFF

Tuesday night
March 25 — 9:40 P.M. MDT.
Fillmore Auditorium
Denver, CO

John and Max were watching the roadies finish setting up for DeVotchka.

“Remind me. Why are we here?” John yelled to Max over the background music.

Max raised his eyebrows. He nodded his head toward the Slavic Sisters. The women trapeze artists were testing their aerial silk cloth.

“Yes, very interesting,” John nodded. “But…”

John felt a hand on his shoulder. He grimaced to Max then turned to see who touched him.

“Hi John,” the woman said. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

John tried to remember the woman’s name. She worked at St. Joseph’s Hospital or at least he thought she worked at the hospital. She spent so much time pushing her inflated chest and lips in John’s direction that conversation was nearly impossible. Too polite to actually dismiss her, he avoided her as much as possible.

“I heard your wife is out of town.” Her tiny hand caressed his arm. “When I saw you here, I figured you were looking for some company.”

John stepped away from the woman. She bat her long eyelashes at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Max laughing at him.

“Listen,” John started but his words were lost over the trumpet playing announcing the start of the concert. His attention jerked to the stage. Maybe if he ignored this woman…

While the band played their first song, the Slavic Sisters vibrated the aerial silk to the music. The silk tapestry billowed down from the stage hitting John’s face. He stepped back to stay out of the way. The trapeze artist winked at John then flipped the fabric from his face.

Smiling her crooked smile, Alex stood in its place.

In a breath, she was in his arms. She giggled when he lifted her from the ground. She wrapped her legs around his middle, their lips fused in passionate consumption.

When John pulled back to look at her, DeVotchka’s lead singer, Nick, yelled, “Drayson, get a room!” The crowd cheered in agreement.

With a nod to Max, John carried his laughing Alex through the crowded venue to Colfax Boulevard. He set her down for a moment then instantly regretted the decision.

“The cab’s waiting for us,” Alex started.

He lifted her back into his arms and carried her to the cab. Nestled in the back of the cab, they took the short ride to their new home. John scooped her off the sidewalk and carried her into the house. They kissed and stroked their way up the stairs until, unable to wait any longer, they made fast love on the third floor landing.

“Wanna try out the bath?” Alex asked.

“Very much so. But the water’s not hooked up to it yet.”

“What?”

“It’s a long story. Shower?”

“Bed?”

“You’re so traditional,” he said.

Opening the door to their bedroom, they were hit with a blast of cold air.

“NO HEAT?!?”

Alex ran to jump under the covers.

“You weren’t due back until tomorrow.”

“Lemme guess, long story?”

“I know how to warm you.”

Slipping under the covers, he did just that.

F

Learning to Stand is the second novel in the Alex the Fey thriller series
written by Claudia Hall Christian.

The novel is available in paperback at Amazon, our store, your local library and bookstore.
Entire chapters are be published at On-a-limb.com,
StoriesbyClaudia.com and AlextheFey.com.

Join the Alex the Fey Facebook Group

How to look like you’re a member of the Fey Team

Related posts:

1. Learning to Stand :: Chapter Four :: Previous Chapters CHAPTER FOUR Raz threw himself on top...
2. Learning to Stand :: Chapter Two :: CHAPTER TWO Two months later Monday early-morning March 24...
3. Learning to Stand :: Chapter Three :: Previous Chapters CHAPTER THREE Raz hesitated. Alex reassured him...

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Recently I joined a cool program called ItStartswith.us

ItStartsWith.us is a cool program designed to get people involved in making a positive impact on other people. Once a week, Nate, the founder of ItStartsWith.us, sends out an email with a weekly mission. The weekly mission is a 15 minute simple idea that can positively impact another person.  So far, I’ve been asked to do something special for a child and reconnect with an old friend.

We were in Craig for the book signing the week of doing something special for a child. I was able to spend some time with my young friend, Caroline. Over dinner at her mother’s house, I went through all of her birthday wishes including American Girl baby items. Ok, it doesn’t sound like much of a challenge but trust me. This American Girl stuff is creepy. It was all I could do not to scream “WHAT THE HELL?”  We also bought our usual case of Girl Scout cookies. And hopefully, Caroline felt like a special girl.

I was able to reconnect with a friend from Junior High School via Facebook. Facebook is such a weird adventure where past and present combine. Anyway, I enjoyed getting a chance to find out more about a woman who was a good friend to me in a time that I needed it.

Doesn’t sound very hard, does it?

So why not join ItStartsWith.Us? It’s free, costs you only 15 minutes a week, and you get to do something positive for someone else. If you’re worried about what you’ll be asked to do, click here to download a copy of last years challenges. Again, they are easy, fun and you can really make a difference in someone’s life.

There’s no downside to this! Go ahead – join!

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“Remember that as today’s dead flower carries
the seed of tomorrow’s bloom so does
today’s sadness carry the seed of tomorrow’s joy.”
– Og Mandino

Happy Monday!

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Just say no to snow! At least that’s what I’m doing. So far so good this morning! (Of course there’s a 60% chance of snow, so my wishes will probably be denied.)

At least we have Unconscious Mutterings to depend on. You play this game by simply answering the word prompts (created by LunaNina) in the comments section. It’s a fun way to clear out the unconscious and get the week going!

Let’s play! Here are your word prompts:

1. Harm ::
2. If ::
3. On my own ::
4. She said ::
5. Illegal ::
6. Broke ::
7. It’s a ::
8. Chatting ::
9. Cottege ::
10. Podcast ::

Here are my answers:

1. Harm :: ’s way
2. If :: I were a rich man
3. On my own :: today
4. She said :: it was true
5. Illegal :: to marry
6. Broke ::n down
7. It’s a :: tragedy
8. Chatting :: it up
9. Cottege :: miss spelled cottage
10. Podcast :: esh

Happy Sunday! When you play I’ll link to you here!

Related posts:

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2. Unconscious Mutterings : Week 368 Winter has returned to Colorado.  We’ve had a great...
3. Unconscious Mutterings : Week 371 We had a couple of gorgeous days of spring…...

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Previous Chapters
Recap of the Beginning and character summary

CHAPTER NINETY
Saturday morning — 1:20 A.M.

Sandy opened the door to her condo apartment and took a deep breath. She’d always loved the smell of her very own home. Even after being closed up for so many weeks, her home still smelled safe. That’s how she had felt first time she’d stepped into the condo – safe and at peace. She sighed. She needed safety and peace this morning.

Tomorrow, her Godfather’s daughter would move into the condo for the summer. Seth hadn’t asked. Instead, his daughter Elizabethe (not Lizzie like she used to be called) had telephoned and begged her for a room in her condo. Now eighteen years old, Seth’s second daughter from his second marriage wanted to see if she could forge a relationship with her father the summer before she started college. Sandy had agreed to let her stay for three hundred dollars a month. Of course, Sandy had set the terms when she thought she had access to Aden’s money to help cover their expenses.

Luckily she liked to work. But not today. At the hospital last night, she’d called all her scheduled clients to cancel their appointments. Today, she would sleep until two, maybe three.

Sandy checked the guest bedroom where Lizzie, no Elizabethe, would stay. She put fresh sheets on the bed and made sure all of the kids’ stuff was out of the closets and cabinets.

Delphie had been to the condo when Sandy was in the hospital after getting shot by her father. Delphie had packed up Sandy’s clothing, cleared out the refrigerator, and got the flat ready for Sandy’s stay at the Castle. She’d even arranged for Rosa and her team to clean the condo top to bottom. Looking around her home, Sandy saw tokens of Delphie’s usual love and care.

Delphie. Beloved Delphie.

Sandy felt too tired, too raw, to continue thinking about the woman. Instead, she checked the refrigerator out of habit. She took a box of Girl Scout cookies from the freezer and sat down on her couch. She was already late to see the kids. They would have to wait another fifteen minutes while Sandy ate a few frozen Tagalogs in peace.

For a moment, Sandy missed her old carefree life. A year ago, she was single, able to do what she wanted, and unencumbered. She hadn’t met Noelle or Nash, the children who now thought of her as their mother. She hadn’t been on even one date with Aden, her baby’s father, current resident of the Colorado Department of Corrections hospital ward. She wasn’t a business owner and she had plenty of spare money. She was free last year.

On a night like tonight, Sandy might have gone clubbing or spent the evening with a handsome man for dinner, drinks, and an uncomplicated romp. She might have had a girl’s night of drinks, make up, and laughter with Jill, Heather and Tanesha. Or she just as easily could have spent the entire night trying to perfect the flaky crust of a delicate French pastry.

But this morning, she was pregnant, exhausted, and late to get her boyfriend’s children from her best friend’s mother. Sandy put her sore feet on the table and leaned into the couch’s comforting embrace.

She’d spent the last two nights at a hospital. One night at Aden’s bedside and last night waiting for news about Delphie. Tonight, Aden was still in a medically induced coma. He and Pete would be moved to Canon City hospital ward in the morning.

And Delphie…

Sandy’s eyes welled with tears.

Somehow, Delphie had survived the horror of yesterday. Dr. John Drayson came to tell them that the surgery had gone well. He said there was extensive bleeding but somehow there was only minor brain damage. He gave Jacob a lingering look then shrugged. Dr. Drayson knew there was some funny business going on, but he was too polite, too British, to ask. He went on to explain that the doctors had filled the aneurism with platinum coils. The coils protected the area from breaking or leaking. Delphie would need follow up care for the rest of her life but she was healthy overall and should recover with minimal lingering effects.

Only Delphie’s immediate family, Jacob, Valerie, and Sam, were allowed in the ICU. They were each given five minutes before they were escorted back to the waiting room. There was nothing anyone could do for Delphie now.

Or Aden for that matter.

Except wait.

And pray.

Jill and Sandy promised each other they would go to the Cathedral today to light candles for Delphie and Aden. Maybe the Holy Mother would save them. Sandy never felt all that confident in the Holy Mother’s abilities. Still, she felt better when she asked Mary to help her. Maybe Mary would help Delphie and Aden if Sandy got Jill to ask.

Sandy sighed again.

She needed to get to the Castle. Noelle and Nash were waiting for her. She was supposed to follow Jill home when she took this detour. She had needed a moment to herself in her wonderful home.

And some Tagalogs.

Sandy looked inside the box hoping there were twenty hidden cookies inside. She shook the empty box and set it down.

“Mother Mary,” Sandy said out loud. “Please help the ones I love to recover.”

The peaceful silence of her beloved condo echoed back to her. She almost expected Cleo, her black and white cat, to jump up on her lap.

But Cleo, and the children were at the Castle, where Sandy should be. She was grateful for a moment of peace.

“Mother Mary, thank you for sparing Delphie and Valerie and Aden and Pete. Thank you for helping me survive to see these busy days.”

Sandy felt a little better. She was grateful Delphie, Valerie, Aden and Pete survived. She was grateful she survived everything. She just wished she had a few more cookies. Her cell phone rang with the latest Miley Cyrus ringtone courtesy of Noelle. Shaking her head at the ringtone, Sandy answered.

“Hey Jill,” she said. “I wanted to change the sheets before Lizzie comes tomorrow. I know when I sleep, I’ll sleep all day. She’s supposed to be here in the morning.”

“Elizabethe,” Jill exaggerated the ‘beeth’ then laughed.

“Yeah,” Sandy said. “Her.”

Standing from the couch, she gave her condo one last look. She shoved the empty box of cookies and moved toward the door.

“The girls are here,” Jill said. “Heather brought the lovely Mack. He’s sound asleep. Can you believe it? He didn’t wake up in the ride over. Remember how Katy was when she was this age?”

“She didn’t sleep more than an hour until she was almost two,” Sandy laughed at her own memory of Katy’s infancy. “Didn’t want to miss anything. That’s Katy.”

“Heather says after the evening run, he sleeps until 3 A.M.”

“Wow,” Sandy said. “Maybe I’ll get lucky like that.”

“What?” Jill said to the voices in the background.

“We’re wondering if you will make us some…”

Jill put her hand over the phone. Sandy heard her ask, “What do we want?” She heard Heather and Tanesha say something. Jill laughed in response.

“Mostly we just want you to come home,” Jill said. “We’re in the loft. Noelle and Nash are crashed out in the guest bedroom. Cleo’s looking for you.”

“I’ll be right there,” Sandy said.

She closed the door to her home and went down the hall.

~~~~~~~~

Saturday morning — 3:45 A.M.
The Castle

Jacob crept across the open loft space. Jill and her friends were asleep in the sitting area near the fireplace. The empty wine bottle and pan of brownies indicated that they had a girl’s night. Jill and Sandy were so grim when they left the hospital; he hoped the wine, brownies and company helped.

He smiled. Sound asleep, the women were draped around each other like some romantic oil painting. Jill was sitting near the end of the couch with Sandy’s head in her lap. As he approached, Sandy’s eyes opened. When Sandy shifted off Jill’s lap, Jill opened her eyes. She turned to look at Sandy and Sandy pointed to Jacob.

Jill stood to hug Jacob. Sandy gave them a wave and lay back on the couch.

“Come to bed,” Jacob whispered in Jill’s ear.

Jill nodded. He took her hand and led her across the loft. He closed their bedroom door.

“Bath or bed?” he asked.

“Bath,” she said. “How’s Delphie?”

He gave her a soft smile. He led her through their bedroom to their master bathroom where he filled the tub. He gave her the bath salts then went out. When he returned, she was waiting for him in the tub. He plucked off his clothing and stepped in across from her. His knees pressed against the tub and hers rested against his knees. He smiled. For that moment, sitting in the warm scented water with his love, everything in his world was right. He kissed the palm of her right hand in thanks.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Dad, Blane and Valerie are staying at the hospital,” he said. “I’m home to close Lipson for the day. I have about an hour before I have to work.”

Jill reached back to get a washcloth.

“I’d like to spend the time with you,” he said. “If that’s all right. I know your friends are here but…”

“I’d like that.”

Jill smiled one of her beautiful smiles. A flush ran all the way through him. She giggled at his reaction.

“How… I mean, when…?” he asked.

“The healing thing?” Jill asked.

Nodding, his eyes tracked the washcloth moving across Jill’s skin.

“I’ve been able to do it all my life. Everyone in my family has some healing in them. I’m the strongest or at least stronger than Mama. Mike’s not as strong as Mama, but he was able to keep those soldiers alive when they were hostages.”

“Mike?” He took the wash cloth from her. He indicated for her to twirl around. She slid between his legs. “That’s just weird. When did Mike get any healing power?”

“Ever notice how Mike never really gets hurt?” Jill asked. “He plays hockey hard, but he’s never injured. He even has all his front teeth. How many hockey goalies have all their teeth?”

“He has those scars on his head and face,” Jacob said.

Jill nodded.

“Oh, you mean, the injuries must have been very severe for him to have those scars,” Jacob said.

Jill nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jacob said. “Why didn’t you heal me?”

“When you were injured?” Jill asked. “I did. I mean, I did what I could for you. Remember the compression dressing?”

“The doctors said it saved my life.”

“It was kind of an accident with you, Honey and Katy. Today… no yesterday was the first time I’ve done it intentionally since my Dad died.” Not wanting to talk about her father, she rushed on, “It’s some genetic thing. It’s why my grandfather rose so fast in the Russian Mob. He’s supposed to be gifted. Mama thinks I’m stronger than he is, but I’ve never met him. We used to do it as kids. When my Dad went… crazy, we’d heal the bruises, broken bones and stuff. On Mama too. Sometimes I think he allowed himself to get so crazy because he knew we could heal it.”

“And the little prayer?” Jacob caressed her with the washcloth.

“Take in this healing with love, for the best use of your soul and body,” Jill said. “It’s something we said as kids. We did it yesterday out of habit, mostly.”

She tipped her head back and he kissed her lips.

“You’ve said that your powers are stronger when I’m around,” Jill said. “It’s probably this thing. Or that’s what Katy said when we were in the Chapel.”

“Katy,” Jacob said. “How is Katy?”

“Asleep, but happy. She and Paddie ate all kinds of cookies and cupcakes and chocolate. Mama said they kept everyone entertained by running in circles and giggling. They’re very happy right now.”

“So am I,” Jacob said.

For a brief moment, his heart filled with the joy of Jill. Reality dropped in a moment later. He sighed.

“Tell me about Delphie,” Jill said. “It was awful to come home and not have her here. The downstairs is a wreck. I… Tell me about Delphie.”

“She’s stable,” Jacob said. “She seems to have turned a corner or that’s what John said. There is some brain damage but they aren’t sure it wasn’t there before. It’s centered around areas of reality testing. They asked us if Delphie ever thought she ‘saw things like ghosts or spirits.’ We laughed after they left.”

“Sounds like good news,” Jill said.

“I guess so. They’ll keep her a couple days, but she should be home by Monday or Tuesday,” Jacob said. “Dad’s a wreck. He’s sure the whole thing is his fault. He says he should have killed Johansen when we saw him in Leadville.”

“He wouldn’t have survived,” Jill said.

“Probably,” Jacob said. “Do you think we’re together because…”

“Delphie told me once that people like us are drawn to each other,” Jill said. “When I was helping her, I heard her say that she tricked you into creating Katy.”

“Huh,” Jacob said. “She probably did.”

“What does that mean?”

“She was the connection to the project in California. She had a friend who wanted an ashram or something like that,” Jacob said. “Totally out of our scope and place. Val and I had to go to see it to vote against it. That’s how I got to California.”

“We should go back,” Jill said.

“We should,” Jacob said.

Standing from the tub, he grabbed a towel from the rack.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“I only have a half hour more…” he said. Still damp, he pulled the sheets back on the bed and wagged his eyebrows at her. “You promised to heal me.”

Laughing, she hopped from the bath to follow him to the bed.

~~~~~~~~

Saturday afternoon — 3:45 P.M.

“Are you all right?” Mike asked.

They were walking down Eighteenth Street. Delphie was still unconscious. Jacob was sitting with her while Sam went home to shower. Blane was holding down the fort in the waiting room. Mike had been bugging Valerie to eat for hours. After Blane promised to call if anything changed, she finally agreed to leave the hospital for food.

“I’d rather have dessert,” Valerie said. “If I have to eat, I’d rather have dessert.”

Valerie felt as if the roots of her very existence had been ripped from the ground. Delphie was her anchor, her long roots into the soil allowed Valerie to take risks and live. They turned down Humboldt Street toward Seventeenth Street.

“There’s a place here,” Mike said. “Next to Strings. D Bar. Oh crap.”

A car screeched to a halt beside them. Four paparazzi photographers jumped from the car. The camera’s whirred and the flash popped. Mike put his arm around Valerie to protect her.

“Where you going Val?”

“What’s going on Val?”

“How are the babies, Val?”

“Hey Mike, is she wearing your pants? They’re pretty big.”

“Show us your baby bump, Val!”

“Why are you in Denver, Val”

The questions flew as fast as the flash from the cameras. She smiled and waved.

Turning on left on Seventeenth, they scooted into the D Bar.

“Are they for you?” the Maitre d’ asked about the photographers.

Valerie nodded.

“Do you want them in?”

Valerie shook her head.

“Easy.”

The Matire d’ informed the photographers that they should leave. As if to accentuate her point, a Denver police cruiser pulled up in front.

“Thanks,” Mike slipped the woman a twenty dollar bill.

They were escorted to a two person table near the back. Mike held Valerie’s seat then came around to sit across from her.

“Sit next to me,” Valerie said. “Please.”

Mike moved next to her on the bench. She held his hand.

“I’m so sorry about the baby, Mike. I wanted to give you babies… a boy to play hockey with and… I….”

Her large hazel eyes filled with tears. Mike put his arm around her. He kissed her cheek. Retrieving a clean handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped her eyes. She took the handkerchief from him.

“Where did you get this?” she asked. “I made a mess of your other one.”

“Jake brought me two clean handkerchiefs,” Mike said. “Just figured I’d need them.”

Valerie gave a soft smile for her brother’s lie about his psychic abilities.

“I’m sorry about our baby too,” Mike said. “Feel caught between gratitude for the miracle that you’re alive; joy that we still have a baby girl to look forward to meeting; and heartbreak over losing our boy, our son.”

“Feels crazy,” Valerie said.

“Feels crazy,” Mike said.

“I called the producers. They are giving me next week off to be with Delphie and get checked and stuff. They want me back, but are being nice about it. My agent said they are really happy with my work.”

Mike’s big rough hand cupped her soft cheek. He smiled into her face.

“We need to sleep, recover. We’ll see our doctor on Monday,” Mike said. “I say we celebrate the short life of our son, our daughter on the way, and your precious life.”

“I need to grieve, Mike,” Valerie said. “And eat some chocolate.”

Mike signaled the waiter.

“Please bring us every chocolate dessert you have in the house,” he said. “And some water. Hot tea for Val. Something herbal. We’re pregnant.”

“Congratulations sir, ma’am. I’ll bring that right away.”

Valerie smiled.

“What?”

“I love it when you take charge,” she said.

~~~~~~~~

Saturday evening — 5:45 P.M.
St. Joseph’s Hospital

“Sam.”

Or at least that’s what he thought he heard. Sam moved from the chair by Delphie’s bed to sit on the bed.

“I’m here,” he said.

Delphie opened then closed her eyes. Hoping she might wake up, he waited for a moment. The doctors thought she’d be awake by now. Every passing minute she remained asleep, her prognosis got worse. He sighed and moved back to his chair. He must have imagined her voice.

“Sam?” He heard five minutes later.

He moved back to the bed. Delphie’s eyes were open and she seemed alert.

“Where am I?” she whispered.

“St. Joe’s,” he said. “Do you remember what happened?’

“I remember Levi.” Delphie shivered and closed her eyes. “Awful.”

“He’s dead,” Sam said.

Delphie looked surprised.

“I’m sorry. I know how much he meant to you.”

“Did Jacob kill him?” she asked.

“Jill,” Sam said. “Although the coroner said he was riddled with cancer. He probably wouldn’t have survived the week. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. We still haven’t figured out how the security system failed.”

“I doubt it did,” she said. “He would have been able to get around it. Everything but the dogs. Can’t trick a dog. They would have kept him away. I should have remembered that. I thought they’d be happier if they went to the groomers all together than if they went by themselves.”

“They’re at home waiting for you,” Sam said.

“Home.” Delphie’s voice echoed with longing. “I’d like to be home.”

“Tomorrow or the next day,” Sam said. “You’ve been very ill.”

“I died,” she said.

“Listen,” Sam said. “I’ve had a lot of time to think and I’d really like to marry you while we still have time left.”

Delphie laughed.

“Why is that funny?”

“Because you’re Celia’s husband. What would Celia think?” Delphie asked. “Plus I like the idea of you being my super hot boyfriend. Gives me a little thrill.”

“Celia would want us to get married. You’ve told me over and over again that she wants us to be happy.”

“You are a sweet man,” Delphie said. “What I can’t figure out is why you can talk to me. Did you gain some psychic skill?”

“Me? Psychic skill? Not a chance,” Sam laughed.

“You must have gained some,” she laughed.

“Why?”

“Because I’m dead!”

Denver Cereal continues next week…

~~~~~~~~

Denver Cereal is a serial fiction set in Denver, Colorado.
You can get your daily dose of Denver Cereal at DenverCereal.com
Chapters are posted on Saturdays on this blog.
Download your free electronic copy of Denver Cereal, the beginning, and Celia’s Puppies.
Like printed books? Go here or Amazon for a print copy of the Denver Cereal;
Go here or Amazon for the recently released Celia’s Puppies.
Claudia Hall Christian is a novelist.

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