Chapter 96- Part 1

The anticipation surprised him.  Around the curve, turn left into the driveway, just a few more seconds and he’d go over that slight hill into the driveway and see the light- Where was the light?  Was Willow ok?  She never got sick but the lights were always on when he topped that little hill.

The house was too chilly for Willow to be home but he hadn’t gotten a call from her.  Concern rose in his throat.  The danger was over.  Where could she be?

A note tacked above the sink sent shockwaves of relief over him followed by disbelieving chuckles.

Chaddie,

I hereby confess that I have taken myself to Brunswick for bowling practice.  I hope you get off work in time to come join me but otherwise I’ll start home around six o’clock.  I have a flashlight attached to my bicycle so it’ll be ok.

Ryder said he’d take care of the animals.

Missed you today,

Willow

P.S.  Do you know what happened to my phone?

“I don’t believe this,” he muttered.  Chad had expected her to go back quickly but the next day?  Her determination amused him, her stubbornness frustrated him, but her zest for life… there was nothing like it.  He’d never have a dull life no matter how ordinary and mundane it might seem to outsiders.

He spent the next forty-five minutes changing clothes and racing to Brunswick.  Willow bowling again was something he refused to miss.  Her bike stood proudly in the bike rack unchained and unmolested.  For now.

Inside, there was no hint of her anywhere.  He wandered up and down the lanes and then back to the counter.  “Has a young woman, twenty three, green eyes, probably in jeans and a really bad bowler?”

“Willow?”

“Yeah,” Chad felt stupid.  Of course, she’d introduce herself.

“She’s probably in the bathroom.  She’s been bowling non-stop since eleven-fifteen-” he paused.  “There she is!”

Chad was already on his way to greet her waving a thankful and friendly hand at the man.  Jake Martens watched amused as Chad called to Willow and then jogged to meet her at her lane.  The way they hugged briefly, with no kiss or lingering touches, made Jake assume relation.  He’d worked the alley for ten years.  He knew girlfriends and fiancées when he saw them.  Willow had a ring but it wasn’t this guy’s.

“So you found my note.  Good.  I was thinking about asking how to find a pay phone.  Mother used them sometimes I think.  I didn’t see any but I thought maybe…”

“How are you doing?”  Chad glanced at the scores displayed and shook his head.  “You’re staying over fifty it looks like-”

“I got a strike once but I didn’t get credit for it.”

“Why not!”  The defensive posture Chad took was particularly endearing to her t the moment.

She glanced at him sheepishly.  “Well, I sort of got it in that lane instead of this one.”

“What?  How on earth- Only you…”

Chad’s arm draped across her shoulders and he pulled her to him for another hug kissing the top of her head.  Jake noticed and his brow furrowed.  That wasn’t very brotherly behavior but engaged couples just weren’t that comfortable with each other without being more physical.  He’d never seen anything like it.  Maybe he was her brother.  Maybe she almost died or something.  Yeah.  That must be it.  She was his little sister who almost died from leukemia or lupus- or Lou Gregory’s or whatever that thing was called.  That was it.  Jake felt better having sorted the not-so-sordid details of Willow and Chad’s past and future.

“Be right back.  I’ll get me some shoes.”

“But I’m tired.  I need food.”  The sight of Willow nearly pouting almost sent him into a hysterical collapse.

“You’re tired and want to eat.  How many games have you played?”

“I don’t know.  I just kept playing them until you got here.”

Chad shoved his hands in his pockets.  “It’s six o’clock Willow.  What if I hadn’t come?  Would you have stayed until midnight when they closed?”

“Of course not.  I was leaving after seven o’clock.  I wanted to be home before midnight.  I have to be up early!”

He shook his head.  “You are seriously insane.  Certifiably crackers as my grandma would say.”  Waving at the lane, he urged, “Throw the ball.  If you want to eat, you have to finish the game.”

“I swore I’d get a strike today though,” she hesitated.

“Well, you did.  You didn’t get credit,” every ounce of strength held his chuckle at bay, “But you did it and that’s what counts.”

“Right.  Can you pay for me?  My card’s in my tote bag- actually, there’s a card in there with your name on it too.  Bill sent it and there’s a letter.  Might as well use your card.”

Confused, Chad opened her tote bag, feeling quite uncomfortable rifling through her personal things, found the envelope, and withdrew it quickly.  Anything to get out of the equivalent of her purse.  His mother had been adamant about no one ever opening her purse.  Period.

The letter was brief and showed him yet again why Kari had trusted Bill Franklin with the management of her finances.

Willow,

I realized that with all of the wedding preparations, the expenses, and possible travel for a honeymoon, that Chad might need access to your accounts.  Therefore, I’ve added him to your credit account and have ordered a card, which I’ve enclosed.  If you’d rather not do this, return it to me and I’ll remove his name immediately.

You will need to take care of name changes, if you do that, as soon as possible.  It’s a hassle so having Chad on the account before the wedding will really make it smoother for one of you to have access with I.D.

Hoping your plans are going well.  I’ll be there, on time, and if there is anything I can or should do, please let Mari or I know.

Always,

Bill

The VISA card felt heavy in Chad’s hand.  Money.  It wasn’t something he’d considered but she had money.  Lots of it.  Much more than he’d ever earn.  She didn’t live like it, act like it, or even realize it and that had made it a non-issue.  Until now.

“I’m ready!  Look, I got a nine!  I just missed that center one somehow both times.  How do you get all but the center pin?”

Chad smiled weakly at her.  “Only you Willow.  Only you.  Let’s get out of here.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know for sure.  Let’s just go.”

Jake watched them as Willow returned the shoes, the laces tied into perfect bows, and then pulled out her wallet to pay for her games.  “How much do I owe you?”

“Sixty-five dollars.”

“What!”  Chad stared at Jake as if he’d gone insane.”

Jake nodded.  “Twenty-one games at three bucks a game is sixty-three dollars.  Two dollars for shoe rental. Sixty-five.”

“How did you play twenty-one games?”  Chad’s indignant voice could be heard across the alley.

“Easy!”  Her voice, on the other hand, was nearly full of gloating.  “Two balls.  Half-way through I figured out that if I had two of the same ball, I didn’t have to wait for it to come back.  Much faster.”

Chad stared at Jake as he counted Willow’s money.  “I have the next thirty to sixty years to figure this woman out and you know what?”

Jake shook his head.

“I don’t think it’s going to be long enough.  Either that, or she’ll be the death of me.”

“She your fiancée?”  Jake’s surprise was evident.

“Yep.  Best thing that ever happened to me.”  Momentarily forgetting the financial sword hanging over the fine hairs over his head, Chad grinned at her.

“I had you pegged for brother and sister.”

“That too!”  Willow quipped innocently.  She waved her fingers at the men and backed toward the restrooms again.  “I need to wash the hands.  They get so dirty!”

“She doesn’t really mean-” Jake began as though compelled to ask.

“No!  Oh no.  We’ve just been such good friends for so long.  And well, we’re Christians too so there’s the whole brothers and sisters in Christ thing.  She’s been a little sheltered so sometimes she says things that only make sense in her world.”

He hated himself as he said it.  He didn’t need to make excuses for her.  What was wrong with him anyway?

“I figured it was something like that.  None of my business anyway.  Sometimes I think before I speak but not usually.”  He hesitated.  “She is different though, isn’t she?  It wasn’t just my imagination.”

“Willow is different.  Very different.”

“You’re a lucky guy.”

Willow pushed through the bathroom door at that moment.  One glance at her reminded him of the girl who’d entered the station nearly a year before and he nodded.  “I am one immensely blessed man.”

Chad waved at Jake, took Willow’s hand, and led her through the building to the side door closest to her bicycle.  As they strolled outside, Jake saw Chad tug Willow’s braid teasing her about something, and then heft an old-fashioned bicycle into the back of a pick-up.  She waited, slightly impatiently, it seemed to Jake’s eyes, for him to finish, settle the bike comfortably, before he opened her door.

Jake observed Willow smiling at Chad as he helped her into the truck.  Just as he thought he might see a glimmer of something else, the floodlight shining on the scene burned out leaving Jake literally in the dark on the status of what kind of relationship they truly shared.  Frustrated, Jake returned to disinfecting rental shoes.  League bowling began in an hour.

He sighed.  League bowlers were more predictable than Willow.  He’d seen them a million times.  He knew their stories inside and out.  This couple was different.  Jake loved people.  He loved to watch them, see what made them connect, and even what tore them apart.  What this couple had was something he’d never seen and he wanted more.

Jake’s mind replayed that last smile and he shook his head.  “Wow.”

Chapter 95~

Carol and David turned off the highway and into Willow’s driveway.  On their right, they saw the simple headstone beneath the sprawling oak and the familiar tightness in their throats returned.  This wouldn’t be an easy lunch.

Chad met them at the truck welcoming them to the farm.  “Willow had a bad night.  She’s upstairs showering.”

“Bad night?”  Carol and David looked at each other concerned.  It hadn’t occurred to them that Willow might still have problems.

With an uncomfortable nod, Chad led them to the greenhouse as he talked.  “She called around two just as I was getting off work.  She’s never called me over a nightmare before so I knew it was pretty bad.  I hope she’s up to this.  She said she was but if she seems awkward-”

“We can go-” David offered almost too eagerly.

“If you don’t mind, I’d rather you stay.  I think it’d be worse if you didn’t.”  Chad found the necessary salad ingredients Willow had requested explaining her enterprise as he worked.  “She sells the excess to a local woman who runs our market.”

“Did I see a planted garden already?  Isn’t it early?”

“She did that last week.  They have a whole system for extending the growing time.  I don’t really understand it but she says they’ve only lost things to frost once so it must work,” Chad explained.

In the kitchen, Willow pulverized beef into thin strips for ‘pizza’.  Hands covered with raw meat, she turned, shrugged, and said, “Consider yourself hugged.  You really don’t want me to.”  She wiggled her fingers and then went back to flipping meat and pounding it.

“Willow had pizza once and liked it but thought there wasn’t enough protein so this is her version.  It’s delicious.”

Chad started to wash the vegetables but Willow waved him away from the sink.  “Why don’t you show them around the house?  I’ll have this ready in a few minutes.”

A deep sigh escaped before Chad could prevent it.  Giving the Finleys an apologetic glance, he pointed out the basics of the kitchen.  “Obviously the stove- wood fueled.  There’s a mini-ice box under the counter over there.  That door next to it is to the pantry.  I’d show you but Willow would probably whack me with the tenderizer so I can show off her preserving skills after lunch.”

Willow smiled to herself.  It was ok.  She was ok.  She’d felt foolish calling Chad but the panic that overtook her in her dream made it nearly impossible to breathe.  She’d sobbed on him for an hour and finally fell into a fitful sleep with him resting on the floor beside her.  How did he get up and keep going with so little rest?

The grand tour continued into the library.  It sounded like Willow’s grandfather enjoyed the library but the comments from Mrs. Finley kept Willow’s mind spinning.  “I can’t believe she-” was a recurring statement at nearly everything Chad shared.  Once they were up the stairs, Willow popped the pizzas in the oven and scrubbed her hands.

Chad’s voice preceded the group as he led them back down the stairs and into the kitchen.  “I was amazed the first time I saw her making soap to use up excess milk but now it’s just something I see now and then.  They use a lot of soap around here.”

“We get very dirty around here!” Willow retorted flinging water at him.

Carol and David exchanged delighted smiles as Chad wrapped his arms around her waist tickling her.  Willow was happy.  As hurt and confused as they were over the past year’s events, they were thrilled to see she wasn’t as alone as it seemed.  The Willow in this kitchen was a very different person than the young woman who had looked lost and out of place in her own home nearly a year before.

“Isn’t she amazing?”

“It won’t work Chad, you’re dead.  I have every intention of shooting you tomorrow and don’t you forget it.”

Feeling very much outside of an inside joke, Carol looked around the spacious kitchen and tried to ask intelligent questions.  “Why did Kari decide against electricity in the house again?”

“It was during the rewiring actually.  I always thought it was kind of ironic that she gave it up as a result of upgrading it.  She liked being forced to relax in the evenings, not having noise distract her, but she didn’t want to be without power if she needed it so she just turned it off once it was all fixed.”

“Doesn’t it get hot?” David’s interest was focused solely on comfort.

“Sometimes but we just go down and jump in the pool if we get too warm.  We had spray bottle fights some nights too.”

“How about cooking in here though.  It’d heat up the whole house with that stove.”

“Mrs. Finley, may I show you the barn?”  Chad winked at Willow as he escorted her grandparents from the house to the ’summer kitchen’ at one end of the barn.

***

“Tell us about your wedding, Willow.”  Carol couldn’t help asking.

Eagerly, Willow launched into her plans, brought her grandmother upstairs to see the preparations, and left Chad and David downstairs looking indulgently amused as she climbed the stairs saying, “We made this lemon marmalade…”

“She seems less…” David searched for the right word.

“Lost.  She looked so lost the day I met her and it was worse the day you were all here.”

“Yeah.”  It wasn’t very eloquent but the word spoke volumes.

Though unsure how much to share, Chad enjoyed talking to someone who had seen Willow in those early days.  “I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to see her so excited.  I thought I’d never convince her to have any kind of wedding.”

“I would have thought that kind of creativity and such would be right up her alley.”

“You catch on quickly.”  Chad explained that he’d used that very argument to start the creative juices in the first place.  “Once she got started, there was no stopping her, but I guarantee you, this is like no wedding you’ll ever attend.”

The women’s voices occasionally drifted down from upstairs.  Eventually, Chad offered to show David around the farm.  “It sounds like they’ll be up there for a long time.”

First, he led David to the pastures to show him the sheep and cow.  He introduced Ditto, shooed barn cats out of the way, and finally led him across the field to the familiar oak.  “We finally got a headstone out here.  I thought maybe-”

One look at it and David’s eyes filled with unwanted tears.  “She didn’t do this herself?”

“She would have but she always says she can’t work well with wood.  My cousin helped me.”

“We’re very grateful that you kept coming.  What made you do it?”

He’d never been able to answer that question until now.  “I don’t think I could have answered that yesterday but standing here-”  Chad swallowed hard.  “I think it was the day I came out and she was hand digging this grave.”

“Oh God no!”  His words were a prayer rather than an oath.

“It was truly the most heart wrenching thing I’ve ever seen.  Now that I think of it, every time I resisted returning, I remembered that.  I wasn’t conscious of it but how do you forget something like that?”

“Kari was always too independent for her own good.  We foolishly encouraged it.  She got her own apartment five miles from home just because she wanted to prove she could do it.”

“Kari was a wonderful woman,” Chad agreed.

“I’m not so sure that was so wonderful.  It’s what resulted in so much pain for so many people.”

“She had a fault.  I agree.  I understand that.  But you’ve seen the daughter she raised.  Willow is who she is because of Kari’s training and influence.  She rose above her mistakes.  Maybe not how you would have hoped but-”

David’s voice grew hoarse until it was nearly a whisper.  “We searched for so long.  At first, we worried.  Did she go hiking somewhere by herself and fall?  Would someone find bones and never know it was her?  Had she been kidnapped?  Was she too stubborn to tell who we were for a ransom?  Our relationship was good.  We were sure she hadn’t run away.  Why would she run away?  The police asked and we were so cocky.  ‘Our daughter doesn’t need to run from her own home.  It’s not like we were keeping her prisoner in ours!’  Oh we were so sure.”  Only through sheer willpower was David able to keep talking without breaking down completely.

“Our marriage suffered,” he confessed.  “I had to call off the detective agencies.  I couldn’t afford anymore.  I’d borrowed everything I thought I might be able to pay back.  Carol almost didn’t forgive me for that.”  David raised his pain-filled eyes to meet Chad’s.  “Why did none of the detectives ever find anything on her?  She had bills.  I know it wasn’t as easy to find people then as it is now but surely when someone looked up basic things in the state it should have come up!”

“Everything is in the financial company’s name.   Accounts are in their names etc but from what I can see, their names are just the signatories on some kind of corporation type set up so you’d have to be looking for that kind of set up to find it, and why would anyone look for something like that?”

“It’s like she wanted to make sure we couldn’t find her no matter what.”

Chad turned to walk back to the house.  “She did exactly that.  She wanted to make sure you didn’t find her.  She was trying to protect you.  She misunderstood a warning from Steven Solari.”

Near the back door, Chad stopped David.  “By the way, I suggested that she consider asking you to ‘give her away’. I don’t know if we’re even having that portion of a wedding ceremony- you won’t believe the things she is and isn’t including, but I want you to be prepared.  If she asks, please find a way to say yes.  If she asks it is because she has decided you are worth investing in and you’ll crush her if you refuse.”

“I couldn’t refuse.  Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t refuse anything of Kari’s child.  Why do you think I’m here?  Do you think I wanted to put myself through this pain?  But she’s Kari’s girl.  She’s my little girl’s daughter.  I had to come and I couldn’t deny her anything no matter how much my sense of self-preservation argues.”

Chad studied him for a moment and then, crossing his arms, he nodded.  “I hope sir, for your sake as well as hers, that you learn to love her for herself.  You’ll never be sorry.”

“You’re not.”

A grin split Chad’s face.  “Sorry?  You’re right.  I’m not sorry in the least.  Aside from Jesus, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

***

Chad and Willow walked along the stream talking at dusk.  “He said yes.  I didn’t think he would.”

“I thought he would.  I mentioned you might ask.  I wanted him not to be surprised by it.  People sometimes agree to things they don’t want to do and visa versa when something comes at them from out of the blue so I warned him.”

“Oh.”  She hadn’t considered that.

“Want to know what he said about it?”  Her nod encouraged him.  “He said almost verbatim, ‘There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Kari’s girl.’”

“He loved Mother.”

“Loves, Willow.  He still loves her.  She isn’t extinct, she’s just moved on.”

Uncomfortable with the topic, Willow turned it in a new direction.  “So when do I get my wedding gift?”

“He’s all paid for but we can’t pick him up until Monday after the wedding.  How about me?”

“It’s a surprise.  I won’t tell you where you’ll find it or what it is but you’ll know it when you,” she hesitated as though struggling for the right word and then sighed.  “Well, when you see it I guess.”

He untangled their fingers and draped his arm around her shoulder using it as a way to steer her one hundred eighty degrees.  “Well now that is intriguing.  Tell me, would anyone know it when they saw it or only me.”

She thought for a moment and shrugged.  “I doubt most people would notice it but I can think of a couple who might.  It’s more what you won’t see than what you will- I think.”

“So will I drive you crazy if I ask lots of questions every day or two?”

“Definitely.”

His arm pulled her closer and he kissed the top of her head.  “Good.  I’ll be sure to bug you often.”

“Chad!”

“How about I go milk the goats, you go do whatever you have to, and we go bowling in Brunswick.  Chuck says you’re a blast to bowl with.”

***

“Keep your wrist straight and let go just-” Chad quit trying.  It wasn’t worth the air forced through his lungs.  She flung the ball recklessly.  There was amazing force behind it- even sending it across lanes at one point.

Chad, on the other hand, after the first two or three frames, got into a reasonable rhythm and bowled a decent game.  Willow pretended to be affronted but even Chad could see her pride in his success.  For all her competitiveness, Willow loved to see others succeed at what they tried to accomplish.

On the second game, Chad tried a new approach.  He followed behind her until she was ready to let go of the ball and then held her wrist steady as she let go.  It fell into the gutter with an obnoxious thud.  Patiently, he tried again.  And again.  It felt as though he played a double game, first on his turn and then helping her keep a reasonable form.

Finally, Willow pushed him out of the way.  “I want to copy you now and see if I’ve learned.”

It was a mistake.  A huge, glaring, sidesplitting mistake.  She took two steps forward, swung the ball back, slid her left foot behind her right, spun in place, and landed on her backside.  Chad’s jaw connected with the floor.  A look of stunned surprise froze in Willow’s eyes and on her features.

“Are you ok?”

“Um-” she began thoroughly embarrassed.  “Are you referring to my body or my pride?”

“Either.”  It didn’t help when he began chuckling.

“Both are bruised but I think I’ll survive.”

“There is good news, Willow.”

“There is?”

His chuckles grew to chortles and finally exploded in hilarity.  “Of course, the ball didn’t touch our lane.  You get to go again and no penalty.”

“Oh joy.”  She scrambled back to her feet, strode to the ball racks, and searched for a different ball.  Carrying one in each hand, and one in the crook of one arm, she hurried back to the lane and glared at him.  “I think it’s time to try different weights.”

Her instincts were correct.  By the end of the night with a fourteen-pound ball, she was able to hit the pins more often than she missed them.  She still hadn’t managed a strike or a spare but Willow was now more determined than ever.

“I’m coming back.  Not only am I coming back, but next time, I’m not leaving until I get a strike and I don’t care what it costs or how many days it takes.”

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Chapter 94~

The door creaked as Willow opened it.  She glanced around the room expectantly.  Was he awake?  A snore assured her that he wasn’t.  She carried bags of groceries into the kitchen and started cutting fruit, making sandwiches, and mixing fruit juice.  It was all very interesting for her.

Once finished, she looked at her pile of food and grinned.  She piled the food in a box and then went hunting for Chad’s Frisbee.  A baseball bat and softball was added to her pile.  She saw paintball guns and wondered what he was doing with guns lying around after his absolute disgust with her and her loaded gun.  She picked it up and examined it trying to find what kind of bullets it shot but only saw round plastic looking balls.  She’d ask Chad after she woke him.

With everything ready, Willow took a deep breath and peeked into Chad’s room.  Oh she hoped he wouldn’t be irritated but once the idea germinated, she had a hard time not tilling, watering, and practically forcing it to grow.  First, however, she had to wake him.

“Chad?”  She shook his shoulders gently.

He bolted from the bed ready to do battle.  “What is it?  Where- huh?”

“What’s wrong?”

“You tell me!  What are you doing here?”  He rubbed the sleep from his eyes blinking against the light.

“I- well, I woke up this morning.  Birds were singing, it’s supposed to get up to sixty-five today, and the sun was shining.  I thought-”

Chad crawled back under the covers.  His room was a little too cool for shorts.  “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you have today off?”

“Yeah…”

“Picnic?”

“Get out of here,” Chad growled laughing.  “I’ll be out in a minute.”

He emerged from his room to find her examining his paintball gun.  “Isn’t it cool?”

“Cool?  It’s a gun with colored balls in it.  What’s it for?”

“Paintball.”  At the look of confusion on her face, Chad grabbed the other gun and took her to the trashcan.  “Watch.”

Chad fired the gun into the side of the trashcan liner and paint splattered around the inside of he can, a few drops splattering around the floor beside them.  “You shoot it.  You go out into the woods or fields and have wars shooting these at each other.”

“And you flipped out that I had a loaded gun in my house while you have two just lying on the floor?”

“Well, they’re not real like yours.”

Her eyes narrowed.  “You woke me up, at two in the morning, to examine my gun when the children were at my house because you didn’t trust me to keep my word and put the bullets away when they were there but you have loaded ones in your apartment for Laird to find?”  Her voice rose several notches as she spoke.

“I could shoot you with this and it wouldn’t hurt you at all.”  He paused, “Well, at this close range you’d get a bruise.”

“You were serious?”  Willow’s voice was aghast.  The concept of deliberately shooting at someone for the fun of it was incomprehensible.

“Yeah.  Hey, we’ll bring them and I’ll show you.”

She watched, eyes bugged, as he piled jars of paint balls, vests, and four guns on the couch.  All the while, he talked about strategy and made plans for a large group game the following weekend.  “We’ll get Cheri and Chuck… oh and I think Joe is off.  Maybe he and Alexa will come.  Or!  We could do a singles fight rather than a movie this time.  You have enough land that it’d be great!”

“Ok.  Can we go now?  Sandwiches are getting soggy and it’s almost noon.  I’m hungry.”

Chad disappeared into the bathroom to brush teeth and hair.  Willow rolled her eyes leaning against the door and taunted him.  “You don’t have enough hair to brush.  Honestly, there isn’t a piece of hair on your head longer than an inch.  Why on earth do you need to brush your teeth?  You’re going to eat in no time!”

***

They found a small clearing at the back of the Finley property that she hadn’t explored in ages.  The picnic blanket spread out on a slight slope made it difficult for setting down cups but they reclined comfortably.  In no time, the food was gone.

“No ants.”

“We always had early picnics because the ants, flies, and bees were usually scarce.”

His expression grew impish.  “Frisbee or paintball?”

“Guns first.”

For half an hour, they practiced loading, shooting, and reloading mid run.  “Ok, I’m ready.  Now what?”

Chad glanced at her wrist.  Willow didn’t wear a watch.  “Count to five hundred and then come out blazing.  Hide.  The point is to shoot me before I shoot you.  It’s more fun with more people but this’ll give you practice.”

Willow counted as she watched him dash for the trees.  She scouted the area for some place protected from all sides but found nothing.  Finally, she climbed a tree with a perfect low-lying fork and settled in until Chad came back.  She’d get him.

Several minutes later, she heard crashing coming from the opposite side she’d expected.  If she’d gone with the bushes, she’d be dead.  The tree was a good choice.   Willow waited patiently.  Chad crashed through the brush, not even attempting for quiet.  This made no sense.  How could you hunt something if you were advertising your presence?

He paused for a moment just under the tree.  She waited.  If she shifted to aim for him, he’d be sure to hear her.  Three steps later, she fired.  “Hey!”

Willow slung the gun over her neck and then hung from the branches ready to drop.  Chad saw her and wrapped his arms around her lower legs.  “Let go.”

“I’ve got it.”

“Just do it.  You can’t hit something and be off.  A broken leg won’t look right with that dress of yours.”

She shook her head impatiently.  “It’d be under the dress anyway.  No one would notice.”

“You would think of that.  What were you doing up there?  How’d you get up there so fast?”  Chad let her down gently pulling a leaf from her hair.  “You killed a baby leaf.”

“The tree will live,” she retorted.  “I’ve been up there for ten minutes at least.  It was the only way you couldn’t creep up behind me.”

“You can’t do that!”  Her confused expression was lost on Chad.

“Why not?”

“What if I had done that?  We’d both be hanging in trees like sloths until the cows come home.”

“My cow is home.”

Chad brushed a stray strand of hair from her eyes.  “Ok, stay on the ground.  Five hundred.  Ready?  Go!”

He turned, crashing through the brush, and disappeared.  Willow glanced around her.  There had to be a way to keep silent or at least bring him to her.  She grabbed a few pinecones and crawled under some brambles laying her vest under her for protection.  Silence surrounded her comfortably.

A twig snapped.  Willow’s ears picked out the sound from the southwest and smiled.  With a swift movement, she tossed the first pinecone against a nearby tree.  No movement followed for several seconds and then the sound of fabric against brush came.  She tossed another one farther away sending Chad crashing past.

“What the-” Chad whirled but saw nothing.  “Where are you?”

She scrambled along the ground, the front of her shirt grinding into the mud.  “Here.  Gotcha.”

He watched amused as she dusted herself off and tried to remove the broken brambles from her hair.  “You just crawled in there and laid in wait for me, didn’t you?”  Chad picked the rest of the twigs from the layers of her braid as he talked.  It seemed like a waste of time.  She’d be tangled in something else in minutes.

“Yep.”

“Ok, let me try phrasing this another way.  You’re supposed to keep moving.  Run as far away as you can and then sneak back to find me, moving most of the time, hiding only if you think you ear me, and then come out blazing.  If we both did what you’re doing, we’d never get a shot in and we’d starve to death.”

“And if we did what you’re describing in war or while hunting we’d get killed or starve.”

“But this is a game,” Chad protested shaking his head.  “You’re supposed to do it ‘wrong’ in order to play the game right.”

“Ok.  Fine.  I’ll do it.  I think you’re just irritated that I got you twice in a row.”  With that, she sprinted through the trees counting out loud, “One, two, three…”

Chad watched her until her green vest, dirty jeans, and brown hair melded into the forest around her.  “Wow.”

Two hours later, they both collapsed on the picnic blanket exhausted.  She’d chased him all over the woods until he finally gave up and surrendered.  Any protests she’d made about her lousy shooting skills he dismissed in mock irritation.  She might not have a straight aim, but she had a wicked sixth sense and perfect hearing.

Lying on the blanket, Chad was covered in paint splatters, Willow’s shoe had a few from the only shot he’d managed to fire at her.  She’d seen him move in her peripheral vision and dove for cover leaving her shoe exposed.  Chad was impressed.

Willow had no idea how long they laid there.  Chad dozed and after a while, Willow raised herself on one elbow and watched him as he slept.  His chest rose and fell rhythmically just as Othello’s used to on similar picnics.  One arm, thrown over his eyes, twitched as occasional breezes sent one of her loose hair up and down his arm.

Compassionately, Willow pulled the hair away, tossing it in the wind.  She hated nothing more than her hair tickling her face and she was used to it.  It must be extra annoying to a man with no experience with long hairs clinging at odd times and in odd places.

As she watched him, another thought crossed her mind.  A slight snore encouraged her even more.  Before she allowed herself to think about it and chicken out, Willow leaned over him and kissed him lightly.  She waited for him to wake and mock her but Chad hardly stirred.  It seemed nothing like the kiss in North and South.  Her original opinion made more sense.  Smashed lips.

Willow’s mind whirled.  It didn’t look right in her mind’s eye.  Margaret had done something different.  Poking him gently, she waited but Chad didn’t stir.  Once more, Willow bent over him trying to imitate Margaret’s kiss.  She tried a feathery pass but it also was wrong.  The hand over Chad’s eye brushed over his mouth impatiently.

She sat back disgusted.  He’d lied.  He’d assured her there was something different in the kiss between men and women but obviously, there wasn’t.  It was just another set of smashed lips.  Maybe it was just different for men.  Marianne had made it obvious that men found physical closeness more difficult for unmarried men so maybe that was the difference.

Margaret’s face haunted her.  There was something different.  It was obvious from the scene that replayed itself repeatedly in her mind as Willow tried to see what she might be doing wrong.  She had to try again but he’d moved last time.  What if he caught her?  How humiliating!  Then again, she mused, he was her fiancée.  Why should it be humiliating for a woman to kiss her future husband?

As soon as she thought it, she answered herself disgustedly.  It was humiliating that she had to sneak the kiss in the first place.  What was stopping him anyway?  Was he just not attracted to her that way?  Maybe their strange marriage would work and Marianne was wrong.

She traced his jaw line with the lightest touch she could manage.  Chad hardly moved.  His breath shifted slightly and then he resumed his normal steady breathing.  She hovered over him once more.  Each second that ticked by nearly drove her crazy with embarrassment.  He could wake up any minute and the sight of her face centimeters from his could send them both scattering.  Margaret’s lips had seemed to pull at Thornton’s.  Maybe-

She tried again.  This was definitely different but still left much to be desired.  So, the lips didn’t smash.  So, they stuck together like taffy on the bottom of your shoe.  Whoop-de-doo.  Chad’s voice startled her.

“Couldn’t wait eh?”

“I-”

His eyes opened lazily.  “I wondered when you’d figure it out.”

“Have you been awake-” she started and then realized she truly didn’t want to know.  “Don’t answer that.”

“Dare you to try it again.”

“What’s the point?  From all I can tell, you have your choice.  Sticky lips or smashed ones.  I think the movie just made the ordinary look good.”

“You’re back to North and South again?”  Chad raised himself on one elbow.

Disappointment was etched in her features making her look like a child who discovered that grab bags are just pretty ways of selling unwanted junk.  “It looked different there but-”

“Did it occur to you,” he began his eyes capturing hers as he spoke, “That both of them were kissing?  He kissed her back.  That’s like night and day.”

“Oh.”  The disappointment hadn’t left her voice.

Willow’s breath caught as she saw a determined look enter his eyes.  “I-”

“Hush.  You started it.”

“But-”

Suddenly, talking didn’t seem very important.  Suddenly nothing else seemed very important.  For several long seconds Willow’s mind reeled in unfamiliar territory until Chad settled back on both arms grinning.  Willow, on the other hand, sat frozen in place.

“Wow,” she whispered.

Chapter 93~

“Willow is getting married,” Carol Finley commented surprised.  “What was the name of that officer again?”

“Teasdale?”

“That’s him.  Tesdall.  Chad Tesdall.  May fifteenth at her farm.  She sent a personal note in the invitation inviting us to dinner at her house in two weeks.”

“Will the cop be there?”  David Finley wasn’t ready to think about this.  Carol had just stopped talking about a visit in the past couple of weeks.  This’d start it all up again.

“It sounds like it.  I’ll call and R.S.V.P and accept at the same time.”

“Are you sure we should go?”

“She has no family, David.  I can’t believe how heartless you can be about her.”

“Well, it’s not like it’s our fault-”

“It’s not hers either!”  Disgusted, Carol stormed out of the room and into the exercise room.  She’d taken to pounding the treadmill anytime stress crept up on her to avoid blood pressure climbs.

David sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and stood.  She’d walk herself into nothingness if he didn’t stop her.  Just inside the doorway, he paused.  “I’m sorry.  It’s hard for me.”

“Kari hurt you- us really.  Willow didn’t.  We can’t let her suffer for Kari’s decisions.”

“Call.  I’ll come.”

“She invited Kyle, Sheryl and the kids too.”

“Call them first then, I guess.”  David smiled weakly and disappeared.

***

The greenhouse was a success.  Radishes, lettuce, carrots, and spinach grew lushly.  Willow worked happily picking salad greens and staring longingly at the healthy tomato plants.  Canned tomatoes just didn’t taste as wonderful on a salad as fresh ones but her ‘hot house’ tomatoes wouldn’t be ready until the wedding.  Jill would love the excess.  She had enough spare produce to stock the store on Saturday mornings for a few weeks until major planting time.

She heard Chad’s truck before she saw it but she continued her work in the greenhouse waving to him as he climbed from the vehicle.  From Chad’s viewpoint, Willow had never looked better.  The tired expression was gone from her face, her eyes no longer looked lost and empty without her mother, and now that she was back to work, a healthy glow replaced them all.

“Your radishes are overflowing.”

“Yes.  I was going to ask you to take some to Jill before you went home tonight.”

“Will they keep in the fridge?”

She shrugged as she cut another bunch of spinach.  “Sure.”

“I was planning on staying late with a movie so I’ll take them over in the morning.”

“You brought a movie?”  Her eyes lit up.  Willow loved movies at home.

“I thought it was time for another one.  Different genre.”

“Like what?”

She led him from the greenhouse carrying a huge basket of vegetables.  Chad took it from her outside the door shaking his head.  “I know you can do it yourself but sometimes I’ve got to at least pretend to be a gentleman.”

“Oh you’re a gentleman alright.  No one could argue with that.”

“Do I hear a complaint in there somewhere?” Chad teased knowing exactly why she was teasing him.  It was April already and still he hadn’t kissed her.  He’d decided to hold out for after the rehearsal dinner just to keep things interesting.

“You aren’t as subtle as you think you are.”

At the kitchen sink, Chad sat the basket on the counter and smiled smugly.  “My mom is right you know.”

“About what?”  Her absent response amused him.  When she got in the middle of working, sometimes she entered another world all together.

Knowing it would unsettle her enough to make her listen, Chad wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder.  “Mom says we’re going to be pathetic saps like her and pop.”

“I wouldn’t know, Willow commented dryly.  “Sap I’ve seen is a little different than sap I’ve tapped.”

“Oh good one!”  He stifled a guffaw and grabbed a tall stool from the pantry.  “Do I scrub or just rinse?”

“Neither.  Take the towels, wet them and wring them out, and then just layer between rows of carrots.  It’ll keep them crisp.”

“Radishes too?”

“When I get there.”

They worked at packing several dozen carrots, radishes, lettuce, and spinach bunches while they discussed the wedding plans.  Chad was surprised to hear she’d rented a dance floor from a place suggested by Alexa Hartfield, hired a caterer suggested by the Confectionary, and buggy rides were on the horizon.  “I didn’t know you’d made so many plans.  You wanted things simple but this doesn’t sound simple to me.”

“You wanted a celebration.  I’m creating one.  I get my way on when; you get your way on what, and voila.  We’re both happy.”

His gaze nearly unnerved her.  “You amaze me sometimes.  Forget sometimes, most of the time.”

“Is that good or bad?”  The tone in her voice was overtly coy.

“Little miss flirtatious, aren’t we?”

“I’m engaged, I have that right.”  She handed him a small radish.  “Taste?”

“Delicious.”  He chewed it and then grinned.  “But I’d rather have ice cream, cherry almond bars, cobbler…”

“Junk food.”

His laughter surprised her.  “Your definition of junk food is far from that of most people’s.  Everything you eat is made from scratch, with simple wholesome ingredients.  It’s almost health food to eat your cobbler.”

The disgusted look on her face made him glad she’d never heard of tofu.  “Maybe to someone who eats food out of a box with unpronounceable ingredients but it’s still a lot of sugar and often white flour.”

“My friends.”

She rinsed another carrot and shoved it into his hands.  “Eat a carrot.”

***

“Six weeks.”  The words dropped into the air and hung there expectantly.

“You can count,” Willow acknowledged confused.

“It seems like time has flown by and is crawling at the same time.”

“Do you wish we’d chosen fall?”

“No way.  I wish we hadn’t waited so long.”  Chad’s voice seemed frustrated but Willow wasn’t sure if it was with her or with waiting.

“Am I doing something irritating again or are you tired of half living in two homes?”

Chad sat in the opposite corner of the couch, hands behind his head, eyes closed, and utterly relaxed.  Without moving, he answered lazily, “You’re not irritating lass.”

She always marveled at how he could lay for hours, hands behind his head, and eyes closed.  He rarely spoke and when he did, even his voice sounded too relaxed to bother speaking too quickly.  Willow set aside her rug.  It was down to the binding and she was eager to finish but somehow the sight of him lying there relaxed and comfortable made her long for childhood days curled next to her mother as she lay on the chaise arms just like Chad’s, and read from Willow’s open book.

“You ok?”  Willow’s head on his chest sent Chad’s eyes flying open and one arm curled around her shoulder.

“Mm hmm.”

Time passed but neither of them noticed the clock ticking the seconds by as lazily as they felt.  Willow almost felt guilty at the pleasure she enjoyed as the result of a wasted afternoon.  Her rug lay unbound on the floor at the base of the couch, dinner never started, and even the laundry that hung outside on the line was left abandoned to the elements as they dozed curled up in the corner of the couch.

“I’m hungry,” Chad finally admitted.

“Me too.”

“I don’t want to get up.”

She stirred starting to sit up but he pulled her comfortably against him again.  “Then don’t.”

“Well, I have to find something to eat.  We skipped lunch and I won’t make it until breakfast.”

“But I don’t want to get up.  This is much too comfortable,” Chad protested illogically.

He was right.  Somehow, it felt like a lazy summer afternoon stretching out ahead of them.  “You ordered food delivered once, didn’t you?”

“I did some major bribing too.  I wonder-”

Chad dug out his cell phone and flipped it open.  With a wink at Willow, he dialed Ryder’s cell phone and waited impatiently for him to answer.  “Hey Ry, I have a favor.”

As Chad snapped his phone shut, Willow adjusted herself more comfortably at his side, grabbed a throw pillow for his head, and promptly fell asleep again.  It seemed to Chad that all the stress, angst, and worry of the past months had finally oozed their way out of the farmhouse on one very lazy April afternoon.  He didn’t move when heard Ryder’s car arrive with dinner or when the boy brought bags of burgers and fries in and set them on the coffee table.

“Rough day?” Ryder whispered smiling at the picture.  Willow deserved someone to give her all the warm fuzzy stuff girls liked.

“Nope.  It was a dozy.”

“Do you mean Dussie?”

“No.  Dozy.  We both dozed.”  Chad pulled his wallet from his back pocket and passed it to Ryder.  “Get your money back from there and enough to cover caring for the animals.  Oh, and would you bring some plates and napkins?”

Willow stirred burying her head into his shoulder with a sigh.  The men grinned at each other before Ryder hurried to gather the requested items.  Chad waited to hear the barn doors open and then squeezed her shoulder gently.  “Hey lass.  Wake up.  Dinner’s here.”

“Dinner?”  Willow hardly acknowledged him.

He shook her again tickling her.  “Come on, wake up.  It’ll get cold.”

Willow sat up, stood unsteadily, and dragged herself to the stove.  She piled extra wood on the coals and teased it into a roaring fire before slamming the door shut and hurrying back to his side.  Confused Chad pulled her closer.  “Are you cold?”

“No, you said you were.”

“No I didn’t,” he protested laughing.  “I said the food would get cold.”

“Is that what smells so good?”

“Mmm hmmm.”

She sat upright blinking and rubbing her eyes.  “Let’s eat.”

Ryder heard Chad’s laughter as he shooed the chickens into the coop and smiled.  He respected Chad, adored Willow, and loved watching their relationship.  Most adults treated him like a pest but not Chad and Willow.  They’d defended him when no one trusted him and it seemed to Ryder that they were being rewarded for it now.

***

“That was the best thing I’ve ever eaten.  It was so good!”

“I can’t believe you’ve never had a burger.  How have we made it almost a year without-”

Shrugging, Willow grabbed the last fry and popped it in her mouth.  “I can’t believe I’ve known you for almost a year.  It’s hard to remember that a year ago it was just Mother, Othello, and me.”

“Speaking of Othello,” Chad interrupted trying to steer the conversation from her losses, “Uncle Zeke has more pups.  Want to go pick one?”

“I want a border collie this time.  Black and white.  Where do I buy one?”  Willow had been thinking about new dogs for weeks.

“I’ll get you one for a wedding present.”

“Really?”  Her delight was enough to remove any thoughts that it wasn’t much of a gift.  “Does that mean I get to give you something?”  Suddenly, Willow knew exactly what gift to give him.

“That depends.  Will I like it?”

Now, she wasn’t so sure.  What if her idea wasn’t something he wanted after all?  “I think-” She chewed her lip uncertainly.  “Well, I hope-”

“Silly lass, of course I will.  If you give it, I’ll love it.  It’s that simple.”

“I hope so,” she whispered.  “I thought you had a movie for me.”

“I’m going to start you on action flick.  I got a mild one to start and if you like it, we’ll move up to something more complicated.”

“What’s it called?”

“National Treasure.”

Willow shrugged, picked up the dinner trash, tossed it in the woodstove, and carried dirty dishes into the sink.  Chad heard her open the pantry door and smiled.  She’d turned on the electricity again.  This was going to be an interesting life.  He couldn’t wait to start it.

The movie opened and immediately following the opening with young Benjamin Gates and his grandfather, Willow was hurled into the artic as Nicholas Cage led explorers to the wreckage of an historic ship.  She fell in love with the pipe, jumped at explosion, and then was immersed into the movie at full speed.  From the first meeting with Abigail Chase to the entrance of the crypt, she jumped at tense scenes, laughed at Riley’s comical comments, and then grabbed Chad terrified as the ropes snapped in the caverns beneath the church.

“Tell me they don’t die.”

“They don’t die.”  He’d expected a squeal with the skeleton in the ship and had been disappointed.  When they opened the crypt, he was sure he’d at least get an ‘ew’ but she hardly blinked.  However, as the Declaration of Independence rolled toward the edge of oblivion, she buried her head and threatened Benjamin Gates’ life if he dared to let it fall.

The irony of the kiss in the middle of a chase scene and the subsequent joke was lost on her but she howled at Riley’s pronouncement on the beauty of stairs.  He waited anxiously for her impression.  Somehow, he didn’t expect her to be ready for the sequel anytime soon.

“So, do they make movies like this that are a bit more believable?”  At the look on his face, she hastened to explain.  “This was fun and an interesting plot but it’s riddled with holes and inaccuracies.  Do they do similar things that aren’t so obviously impossible?”

“I’ll get the Bournes.”

“Who is born?” she asked curiously.

Laughing, Chad turned off the movie and closed the laptop.  He lit the oil lamp, brought her a cup of tea, and returned to the couch with a cup of coffee.  “I’ll bring it tomorrow.  I’ve got to see your face on this one.”

Chapter 92~

Stretch.  Oh the feeling of waking up in your own warm bed!  Chad rolled onto one side and opened one eye.  Eleven-thirty.  What time was he on duty- was he on duty today?  How had he gotten into bed anyway?  Didn’t he-

Willow!  Chad flung the covers off him and bolted from the bed.  “Willow?”

The living room was empty.  The kitchen, bathroom, and even his closet, though he couldn’t understand why he’d looked there once he thought about it, were also empty.  Nothing made sense.  Hadn’t he gone to get her?  He grabbed for his cell phone but it was gone.  He shook his head trying to clear the muddied thoughts clouding his mind and making it impossible to think clearly.

In his peripheral vision, he saw his phone sitting on the corner of the counter.  Strange.  He didn’t remember taking it out of his pocket.  Where was Willow?  Surely she wouldn’t go out when he’d- He had gone to get her hadn’t he?”

The last two calls were from the chief but he remembered his next to last call being from Willow at his mother’s house.  He raced to the bathroom and examined every inch of him in the medicine cabinet mirror.  Nothing looked like a hypodermic injection site.  “You’re losing it man.  Last time you remembered nothing, not something that didn’t happen.  Get a grip.  Call the chief.”

“Chief-”

“Good, you’re up.  Ok, so they’re going to haul her in after the coroner’s preliminary report is completed.  The scratches were made post mortem.”

“Seriously?”  Relief washed over him.  A few more hours.  “So did I go get Willow or not?”

“Of course you did, she answered your phone not three hours ago.”

“She answered-” Alarm coupled with more than a little anger washed over Chad.  “What did you tell her?”

“Told her to tell you the tipster said she’s safe and that you’d know what to do.”

“Gotta go Chief.”

“What?”

“Willow went home.”

“Take the cruiser and use the siren.”

“It’s not that imperative,” Chad argued.

“It’ll scare some sense into her though.”

Knowing the Chief was right, Chad burst through his front door, slamming it shut behind him and raced down the front steps.  He ignored cheerful calls of ‘good morning’ by several neighbors, flipped on the lights and siren, and tore down the street as quickly as he safely could.

On the highway, Chad prayed.  He punched Luke’s number and waited for his cousin to answer.  “Pray.”

Without another word, Chad disconnected the call, and tore down Willow’s driveway ignoring the protesting shocks of his cruiser.  Willow raced from her house to meet the car.  “What is it?  What’s wrong?  They didn’t go to your house did they?  The chief said it was safe!”

Chad grabbed her shoulders fighting the urge to shake her until some semblance of sense rattled in her brain.  “What the h-” He stopped.  Swearing wasn’t going to make things any better.  “What did you think you were doing?  I drove to Westbury at three-thirty in the morning, tore you from your bed, raced back to Fairbury, hid you in my house, stood guard over you until I collapsed…”  He took another deep breath.  “And you just walked out!  How selfish can you be?”

“Selfish?  I don’t get it.  The Chief said I was safe!”

He hadn’t expected anger.  Foolishly, he’d imagined that she’d understand and at least show a little penitence for scaring the stuffing out of him.  ”What exactly did the Chief say?”

“‘Tell Chad the tipster says you’re safe.  He’ll know what to do.’”

He waited.  Seconds passed, then minutes.  She shivered.  Suddenly she noticed that he wasn’t watching her.  The lights of the car still spun crazy red and blue over the snow but his eyes- they never looked directly at her.  They shifted from the hills around them, to the fields, and over to the barn.

“What-” her teeth chattered.

“Let’s get you inside,” he sighed.  He reached into his car and snapped off the lights impatiently.

Her house smelled like home.  It had the same hint of smokiness, scent of lavender, and water boiled on both stoves adding moisture back into the air that the stoves removed just as quickly.  Stew simmered on the kitchen stove already.  It looked as though she was ready to make soap again.  She’d jumped into her normal life as though nothing happened.

Willow knew he was upset but didn’t understand why.  She was safe.  What was the problem?  The frustration in Chad’s eyes made her smile inwardly.  In seconds he’d stuff his hands into his pockets and then he’d talk to her- make her understand.  It’s what Chad did.

But he didn’t.  To her surprise, Chad sank into the rocking chair next to the stove.  She’d never seen him sit there in the months that she’d known him.  He always sat in Mother’s chair, sometimes turning it around and sitting backwards on it while draping his arms over it.  His head hung into his hands and his back rose and fell with careful and deliberate deep breaths.

Uncertain of what to do, Willow did what came instinctively.  She laid her hand at the base of his neck and kneaded the muscles.  Chad didn’t move but she felt him relax as her hand worked the knots out of his neck and shoulders.  Minutes passed and neither said a word.  Willow wondered what was so wrong and Chad wondered how he’d manage to survive the next fifty years with her and suddenly realizing how much he felt like he couldn’t survive the next fifty without her.

Another deep breath shuddered through him as he tried to calm resurfacing anger.  The longer he sat and imagined the terrible things that could have happened, the angrier he grew.  She had to learn to think out of the snow globe-like bubble of her own little world.

Just as he opened his mouth to give her a well-deserved tongue-lashing, Willow realized that she’d missed something.  She wasn’t sure what, but she was sure that she had frightened people who cared about her and the realization of what that meant cut her.  She settled herself in Chad’s lap, wrapped her arms around his neck, laid her head on his shoulder as she might have years before with her mother, and whispered, “I’m sorry Chad.  I don’t understand, but I am so sorry.”

“Aww Willow.  You scared us.  I need to call the Chief and let him know you’re ok.”

“Then I’m not safe?” she was confused.

“Give me a minute.  I’ll explain.”

She started to rise so he could dig his phone from his pocket but he wrapped an arm around her waist and held her close.  “You’re not going anywhere for a while.”  His phone retrieved, Chad punched the Chief’s number and left word of her safety.  “You can’t forget, sir, she doesn’t think like we do.  She doesn’t watch TV, doesn’t read newspapers, and doesn’t know how informants work.”

Once the call disconnected, Chad sat rocking the chair, praying, and trying to find a way to overcome his anger.  It was easier to be understanding when he was talking to someone else.  Talking to her, on the other hand, was an entirely different story.  He wanted to tear into her with both guns blazing.

“Willow-” his voice, low and earnest, startled her.

“What did I do?  I heard you talking to the chief but I don’t understand.”  To her utter disgust and frustration, tears hovered in her voice.

“Aww, lass, I just-”

“Lass?”

“Well if I’m laddie, you have to be lassie but my Willow isn’t a dog so I shortened it to lass.”

“Lass.  I like it,” Willow murmured relaxing once again.

“Anyway,” he continued as though uninterrupted, “I just think you’re going to have to acclimate yourself to the ‘real world’ just a bit more.  Do you know what an informant does?”

“Is that the same as a tipster?”

“Yes.”

She thought.  “They know things that other people might want to know so they tell them- either because they’re pretending to be on the wrong side when they aren’t, or they are paid to provide information.”

“Ok, that’s good.  Exactly right.  So what do we know about the information when it comes in?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s right,” he agreed smiling into her eyes.  “We don’t know anything about it.  It could be good, bad, or indifferent.  We don’t know.  We have to take every threat seriously and any retraction with a grain of salt.  We just don’t know.”

Her eyes grew wide.  “So if someone Solari paid to hurt me wanted to find me when he saw I was gone, the best way to get me would be to put the word out that I was safe and hope it got back to me so I’d come out in the open again?”

“She’s catching on,” Chad said to nobody in particular.

“No wonder you were mad.”

“I was just scared Willow-”

She shook her head vehemently.  “That’s a lie.  You were furious.  Ready-to-bite-my-head-off-and-I-don’t-blame-you-for-it mad.”

“You do this.  You get something into your head and you just do it.  You don’t think about the consequences of your actions and you especially don’t consider how it’ll affect those who are around you and don’t want to see you hurt.”

Resisting his tug, Willow got up to get a drink of water and consider his words.  “I can’t understand why you don’t thrash me sometimes.”

“I love you.  You don’t thrash the people you love- usually.”

“I never had to think of all of this stuff,” she complained.  “Sure, I told Mother if I was going to go somewhere, that’s common courtesy.  Just like I told you in the note that I was going home.  I just didn’t have to think about whether or not someone’s word was trustworthy or if being anywhere near home was safe or not.  Home was safe.  Ever since Mother died, home has gotten less and less safe.  I hate it.”

Slowly, Chad beckoned her back to the chair.  “Come here Willow.”  She hesitated.  Nothing he could say would remove the pain of the loss of her mother and her freedom.  Why be disappointed?  But the look in his eyes, the care and compassion he showed even while still irritated with her for her folly- she couldn’t ignore it.

He pulled her onto his other leg, reversing her position and rocked again.  There was something strangely comforting in the motion.  “We’re going to get her.”

“Her?”

He’d forgotten.  No one had told her that Lynne was responsible for Steve’s death.  “Oh Willow.”

“I thought it was lass now?”

“Lass then!” he interjected impatiently.  “I- Lynne killed her husband.  They just got a preliminary report and it puts her at the scene after both men were dead.  She was seen, they have DNA that’ll eventually prove her guilt, and she’ll either go to prison or get the death penalty.”

“Then we’ll all be safe?”

“We’ll all be safe once she’s arraigned.”

Her next words punched him in the gut.  “I want to see her.”

“What?”

“I want to see her.  She doesn’t know that I knew I might not be safe.  Once she’s arrested and it makes the papers, I want to see her.”

This was beyond Chad’s comprehension.  “Why?”

“She’s lost Chad.  She’s a sinner who is lost and broken and may die soon.  She needs Jesus.  I want to see her.”

Before Chad could answer, Willow excused herself upstairs.  As he listened to her feet skipping lightly up the stairs, he rocked.  “Wow.”

***

Lynne waited at the table.  Her bail hearing had been a wash.  No bail.  Someone took the eighth amendment regarding bail a little too seriously in her opinion.  No one could call zero bail too high of a monetary price.  Her lawyer was appealing.  She hoped he had good news.

Willow’s entrance surprised her.  It wasn’t her lawyer after all.  What was her granddaughter doing here?  “Willow?”

“Hello.  I read you were here and I asked if I could see you.”

“I didn’t do it Willow.  You’ve got to get them to let me out of here.  I’m going crazy.  After the arraignment I’m going to be sent to a regular prison while I await trial.  They’ll put me in a cell with Butchette and-” Lynne covered her mouth in horror at the images Willow couldn’t imagine from her side of the table.  “Please.  Help me.”

“I am here to help Lynne, but I doubt in the way you hope.  I brought you something.”

Willow passed the plain Bible box across the table.  It’d been wrapped beautifully but by the time the screeners got done with it, even the binding was lose.  They’d poked and prodded at every inch of it until Willow thought she’d go crazy.  Her beautiful package was reduced to nothing.

“You’re kidding, right?  A Bible?  What am I supposed to do with that?”

“I hoped you’d read it.  I had it marked but I think they messed it up.”  She turned quickly to Mark and slid one of the ribbon markers in place.  “Read here. It’s a short book.  You’ll meet Jesus and right now, there’s nothing you need more than Jesus.”

“Get the-”

Willow stood.  “I’m leaving.  I’m praying for you, and if you go on trial, I’ll sit in the courtroom as much as I can and pray for you.”

Willow left the Bible on the table, and followed the guard from the room.  Lynne shoved the box onto the floor and waited impatiently for another guard to take her back to her cell.  Her granddaughter thought religion would solve everything.  Great.  Now what?

Late that night, Lynne dreamed.  Women in pretty dresses and men wearing suits and ties sang songs about heaven.  An organ played.  A man talked about love and forgiveness.  Then he saw her.  The one who carried the money baskets.  He pointed to the door menacingly.  Her stringy hair, rumpled clothing, and sensual mother assured her a ticket out of the church but every week she crept back.  It was worth the humiliation to hear the music, listen to the beautiful words.  No one wanted her there but she wanted what they had.  She wanted that peace on their faces.  She needed that peace.

She woke in a sweat.  That was the appeal of Willow.  She was like those people from that church.  She had that peace, that innocence.  Confidence and strength from within oozed from her pores.

All of the years Lynne had worked to prove herself just as good as those goody goodys at that little church seemed wasted.  She wasn’t as good as they were and deep down, she’d always known it.  For a moment, she longed for what she couldn’t imagine and didn’t have.

Her heart hardened.  It was all an emotional game to make you look superior.  Willow might be better than she was but those self-righteous people back in Hardvale were no better than she was.  They should have wanted to help the little girl.  They could have shown her how to iron a dress and wash her hair.  They could have been kind.

“Hypocrites,” she muttered and then rolled over on the thin mattress and tried to drown out her surroundings once more.

Chapter 91~

 

Chad burst into his parents’ house at four-thirty Saturday morning.  Taking the stairs two at a time, he raced into Willow’s room and shook her awake.  “Willow, get up.”

“Wha-”

“We’re going home.  Now.  Let’s go.”

“Why?”

“I’ll tell you on the way.  You have five minutes to grab whatever stuff you want to grab and come.”

“I can’t gather everything that fast,” she protested sleepily.  “Go away.”

He reached into her closet, grabbed jeans and a sweater, and tossed them on the bed.  “Four and a half minutes.  Hurry.”

Downstairs, he scribbled a note for his parents, grabbed as many boxes of the gifts as he could, loaded them in the cruiser and seeing Willow at the bottom of the stairs, pointed to the door.  “Go, I’ll grab your suitcase.”

“Wha-”

Six minutes after Chad entered the house, Willow and Chad sped toward Fairbury ignoring speed as though there were no laws, Chad explaining all the way.  At seven o’clock, Christopher poured a cup of coffee and turned to lean against the counter as he’d done thousands of times over the past fifteen years.  A note stuck to the fridge chilled him.

Mom and Dad,

Steve Solari is dead.  His wife is in custody but they’ll have to let her go unless they can find a way to charge her.  Chief Varney is trying to arrange a ‘look alike’ to be at your house by seven or eight.  We’re trying to make it look like she’s there but we’re not sure.  The officers had a tip that Willow is on Lynne Solari’s hit list but we think it’s bogus.  However, we have no way of knowing it so if she is, you guys aren’t safe either.  I’m so sorry.  We’ll take good care of her, I promise and whoever they send here will take care of you.

Don’t call.  I’ll call.

Love you,

Chad.

P.S.  It goes without saying but, please pray.

 

***

Earlier that morning

 

“Ms. Solari?”  The officer’s voice was more polite than questioning.

“Yes?”

“We’re going to have to ask you to open the gates.  We’re from the Rockland police and we need to speak to you.”

“Sure- is anything wrong?”  The grogginess in Lynne’s voice was genuine.  She’d slept like a baby.

“Please open the gate ma’am.”

“Oh right.  Sure.”

As the squad cars crept up the driveway, Lynne stared into the mirror.  She looked sufficiently sleepy.  Pulling the mask resting on her head over her eyes, she waited until the doorbell rang and pushed it up again.  The light was blinding.  Bad idea.

“Come in, come in.  I’m sorry.  The light bothered my eyes so I pulled my mask down but now it’s worse.  I shouldn’t have-” Lynne rubbed them impatiently.  “I’m sorry, can I help you?”

“May we sit down?”

Lynne’s face drained.  She’d learned to control that years ago in theater acting and it came in handy sometimes.  “What’s wrong?  Is it my granddaughter?”

“Granddaughter?”  The officers stared at one another.  “Ma’am, I didn’t know you had a granddaughter.”

“Most people don’t but I do.  Is she ok?  I’ve been worried about her.”

The senior officer stopped her.  “Ma’am, I am afraid I have bad news.  It’s your husband.”

“Steve?”

“He was found dead a little over an hour ago.  Someone reported shots fired-”

What little color that had returned to her face left once more making her look deathly ill.  “Dead?  I just saw him an hour or so ago!  He was fine.”

“You saw him?”  This wasn’t news to the officers.  They knew she’d been there.

“He was fine!” she wailed.  “That Mark Weinbecker!  I’m going to kill him!”

“I’m afraid not ma’am.  He’s dead too.  Why did you say that?”

She collapsed sobbing presumably, as the full weight of their words sank in.  She’d been careful not to react too quickly.  She well knew how to play these people and Lynne had to play it perfectly.  Regardless, her granddaughter was safe and that was worth it.

The officers waited for a minute or two as she struggled to compose herself.  “I suppose you’re here because I was there.  I’m a suspect.”

“Well, we’re here to notify you of course but yes, we do have a few questions.”

“The spouse is always a suspect.  I can’t decide if that’s unfair or just a really sad commentary on our society.”  She paused and then lifted tearful eyes to the junior officer.  He’d be more easily fooled.  “How- I mean, did he suffer?”

“Single gunshot to the head.  Both of them.  It looks like they aimed for each other-”

The senior officer interrupted but not before fresh tears washed over her.  “I’m going to be blamed.  I’m going to jail.  I need Johnny Cochran.  I never thought O.J. was innocent but now I see how-”

Her rantings made no sense to the officers.  She hurried upstairs to dress and then came back down pulling on gloves minutes later.  At the bottom of the stairs, she paused.  “I think I should tell you, I scratched him.”

“Who?”

“Mark.  He grabbed me, Steve was furious, so I started to slap him and then he laughed.  I scratched him.  I was trying for the eyes but I was too mad-”  She glanced at her fingernails.  “I washed my hands.  I wonder if that’ll help or hurt me?”

As they placed her in the squad cars, she looked back up at the officers.  “Is he really dead?  Couldn’t he just be injured?  Did they make sure?”

“They made sure.  I’m very sorry for your loss.”

As he slammed the door shut, the junior officer stared across the top of the car at the other man.  Their eyes met and both shrugged.  That was a weird encounter.

***

Just outside Fairbury, Chad insisted Willow duck down in the seat and drove down several back streets slowly as though on patrol.  “Ok, at the corner, I’m going to stop and pretend to talk on my radio.  Take the key,” he dropped a key behind the seat,” and go down the back alley into my apartment, up the stairs as quietly as possible and let yourself in.  If you see anyone, hide.”

“Are you sure this is necessary?”

“No.  Just do it.”

Frustrated by the seeming paranoia surrounding everything, Willow slammed the door shut an stalked down the alley to his apartment, went inside, and nearly slammed the door shut before she remembered that she wasn’t supposed to be heard.  She stood, livid and shaking, staring at the door, and then with all of her strength, swung an imaginary door shut.  Again.  And again.  It felt wonderful for several swings until eventually she just felt foolish.

“AAAAA” she clamped her hand over her mouth.  “Lord I am going to go crazy here!”  Her silent prayer screamed in her mind.

Exhaustion washed over her.  She and Marianne had stayed up until midnight with Cheri fitting dress pieces to her and getting the basic shape completed.  Three and a half hour’s worth of sleep wasn’t sufficient.  She eyed Chad’s bed longingly.  Would he kill her?  She didn’t care.

Chad found her snoring softly an hour later when he finally entered the apartment.  He stood, for several minutes, fists in pockets leaning against the doorjamb, watching her sleep.  She was going to get herself killed.  She was going to get all of them killed.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he stepped outside to answer it.  “Chief?”

“They’re letting her go until after the coroner’s report.  They can’t hold her so they’re acting like they did the routine questioning to satisfy the citizens.”

“So how safe is Willow?”

“Officer Moreno is at your house cooking a bunch of nothingness in your mother’s kitchen.  You’d better call.”

Chad disconnected the call and dialed home.  This wouldn’t be pleasant.  His mother’s frantic, “Where is Willow!” nearly deafened him.

“Hello to you too, Mom.”

“Don’t you play games with me boy.  Where is Willow and what the-”

“Don’t do it mom, you’ll regret it.”  Chad loved it when his mother got in her ‘mama bear’ mode.  She was down right adorable.

“Chadwick-”

“Elliot Tesdall, you answer me or I’ll- fill in the blank.”

“Embarrass you at your wedding,” his mother added without a pause.

“She’s sleeping.  She’s out of danger at the moment- we think we overreacted but you can’t ignore a tip like that either.  Not when someone else close to the threat has just died.”

Tears filled Marianne’s voice.  “Should she go to Libby’s or-”

“She’s safest where we have her.”

“And you can’t tell me where that is?”

An unfamiliar firmness entered Chad’s voice making her feel reassured somehow.  “No mom, I won’t.  I’m not risking any of you.  I’ll call later.  Tell Moreno that Willow couldn’t cook with her burned hand anyway.”

Chad resumed his post in the doorway of his bedroom.  He was exhausted.  He wanted nothing more than to crawl under those covers, fall asleep, and hang anyone who thought it was inappropriate.  Only the knowledge that his wife needed to trust him kept him watching vigilantly and from across the room.

***

Lynne smiled as she closed the door behind her.  It was over.  Over. There was no way they’d charge her.  They’d even admitted they had to question her to cover their backsides.  Willow was safe and with Steve gone, she’d be more willing to risk time with her. 

Automatic shades darkened her room.  She needed her sleep.  She swore at the sound of the phone ringing.  “What?”

“Finley woman is still at the house in Westbury.”

“Good.”

“Stay here?” the voice continued with a bored tone.

“Just check in a couple of times a day.  Don’t panic if you don’t see her but if you notice she’s gone at odd hours, I want to know.  She’ll be going back to Fairbury soon, I imagine.”

“Got it.”

Lynne sank blissfully into silk sheets and slept.

***

Willow inhaled deeply wondering why Chad’s scent was so strong.  Her eyes opened.  Chad stood in the doorway, hands stuffed in his pocket, head hanging, asleep.  She slipped from the covers and crossed the room.  His face looked relaxed again.  She’d missed that.

One hand touched his face and as he stirred, she wrapped her arms around him laying her head on his chest.  His eyes blinked open and his arms instinctively surrounded her.  “Mornin’” he whispered.

“Hi.”

“Can we go sit down?  I’m beat.”  Chad grasped her hand and dragged himself to the couch pulling her beside him.  In seconds, he was asleep.

Willow felt terrible.  She’d been nothing but stress and worry for so long.  After a while, his phone vibrated in his pocket but he still slept.  Was it important?  Should she wake him up?  She tugged at his pocket to see if she could retrieve it before he woke.

“Hello,” she whispered.

“Willow?  This is Chief Varney.  Is Chad there?”

“He’s asleep.”  Willow extracted herself from the couch and closed herself in the bedroom.  “Should I wake him up?”

“No.  He’s been up for too long.  Tell him to call.  Tell him the tipster says you’re safe now.  He’ll know what to do.”

Willow snapped the phone shut.  She could go home.  She could go home.  That was a wonderful feeling.  She grabbed her jacket, wrote a note, and slipped out the door.  She’d enjoyed her week, her hand was almost healed, she could do this.  She was going home.

Chapter 90~

The library was hushed.  Willow sat at the computer and tried to use it but was completely confused.  The little square that Chad used to move his little arrow around wasn’t anywhere.  She looked all over the keyboard, the monitor, and even moved the mouse and pad looking for it but she just couldn’t find it.  She stood to ask for help and saw he young man next to her move the little flat-bottomed ball around and that seemed to work.

Trying again, she sat and moved the mouse around the pad and watched the arrow but couldn’t find the little buttons near the keyboard for clicking on things even though she also didn’t know what to click on in the first place.  She stood again.  The boy’s face met hers and he frowned.  “Got a problem lady?”

“Yes.  I can’t figure out how to use this thing.”

“You’re kidding me right?” he whispered back eyes bugging out of his head.

“I wish I was but I’m not.  I need to find a place called Google and from there I’m supposed to be able to search for someone.”

“What are you trying to find?”  The young man wasn’t normally a helpful person but the idea of someone so young so unfamiliar with the basics of a computer was an intriguing anomaly.

“My grandmother.”

He clicked around the screen for a second and asked, “Name?”

“Lynne Solari.”

“Is she related to the TV guy Solari?  The one who owns half of Rockland’s entertainment?”

“I don’t know.”

“Probably not huh?”  He worked for a few minutes but he came up repeatedly empty.  “You got a credit card lady?”

“Sure.”  Willow whipped out her card and handed it to him but he waved it back.  “Just a minute.  You don’t just hand your information over to a stranger.  What kind of freak are you?  You’re asking for all kinds of fraud with that.”

“Oh.  How?”

“Are you for real?” he protested.  “I could take those numbers and run up huge bills.  I could use them to do all kinds of damage.  You don’t share your Social Security number, your driver’s license number-”

“I don’t have one of those,” she interrupted.

“Ok then, state ID!”  A general hushing sent his voice back to hushed tones.  “That kind of information is asking for trouble.”

“Oh.  I didn’t know.  They always ask for ID when I use the card so I thought-”

“Online, they can’t.  Anyone with the card number, expiration date, and security code on the back can max out that card.”

“So what do I do?”

“Type the numbers in here, I’ll look away, and then hit submit.  I’ll take care of the rest.”

Willow eyed him warily.  “Then, how can I know it’s safe- I mean that number is in there if I do that.  Isn’t that dangerous?”

“They encrypt it.  It’s safe that way.”

“I don’t understand.  Encrypt, what is that?”

The kid had never seen anything like it.  The woman holding a credit card, trying to do a person search on someone who could be related to one of the most powerful men in Rockland, was less techno-savvy than his sixty-three year old grandmother.  It was incomprehensible.

“You punch in the number.  It’s just sitting on the screen but you can erase it.  Like this.  He typed several random numbers and then backspaced.  “See, no numbers.  No one knows what numbers you just punched.”

“Ok.”

“Well, encryption takes those numbers and jumbles them up and spits them out on the other side right for just long enough for your credit card to authorize.”  He paused.  “Well, it’s actually more complicated than that but-”

“Ok, so this is safe.”

“Yes.”

“How do I know you’re not lying to me?” she asked stubbornly.

“Why don’t you go ask the librarian?”

“Well,” she protested, “If it’s not safe to give the card to you because you might misuse it, then why should I trust the librarian to give me accurate information.”

“Cause she’s paid to be trustworthy.”

Willow hesitated again.  After several seconds, the kid threw up his hands.  “Fine.  Find the woman or don’t.  I could care less lady.”

Willow motioned for him to move.  She carefully typed in each number, rechecked it, triple checked all the information once more, and then with a deep breath, hit the submit button.  The moment she did it, she groaned.  “I should have asked Bill.”

“Who’s Bill?”

“My financial advisor.  He would have told me- Never mind.  We did it.  Now what?”

Several minutes passed before the kid handed her a dozen papers.  “Here you go.  Address is right there.  If this chick isn’t related to Steve Solari, I’ll eat my Wii.”

“Can I pay you?”

The kid grinned.  “Sure.  Buy me a coffee.  Thanks lady, you’re all right.  Weird.  Trippin’, but all right.”

She passed him a folded bill and smiled.  “Thanks again.”

As she left the building, the kid glanced at the bill in his hand.  “Fifty bucks for a basic name search?  Wow.”

***

The cab pulled up in front of a huge estate.  Large iron gates blocked the driveway.  “Are you sure this is the place?”

“That is the address you are giving me.  I am just following directions.”  The man’s accent was delightful.  Willow loved the various accents she heard in Rockland.

“How do I get in?”

“I am not knowing.  You should press the button.”

“Don’t go anywhere.”  Willow remembered how Bill had paid a driver extra to keep him waiting and handed ten extra dollars.  “Can you wait?”

“I will wait.”

Willow slammed the door shut harder than necessary making her jump.  She walked to the gate and looked for the buzzer.  Finally, she found what looked like a doorbell and pushed it.  A voice asked who it was.  “I’m Willow Finley.  I’m looking for Lynne Solari.”

Several minutes passed.  The cab driver shrugged as she looked at him for help and then the gates slid backward mechanically.  “Come in please.”

She slipped inside the car and shut the door. “Will you go inside with me?  Not inside the house but the gates so I have a way out?”

Lynne met her under the portico.  “Oh Willow, I never thought- I’m so glad- Come in, come in!”

The house Willow entered was nothing like she’d ever imagined.  In Willow’s eyes, it was palatial.  “You have a lovely home.”

“Thank you.  I can’t believe you’re here.”

“You know I came for a reason,” Willow began hesitantly.

“Of course.  My husband thinks my blonde hair is indicative of the number, or lack thereof, of brain cells in my head but I’m not exactly stupid.”

“That’s what I told your husband.”

Lynne allowed the color to drain from her face.  “You saw Steve?  When?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask why.”

“You should be,” Willow agreed.  “We both know your husband is a dangerous man.  I told him he underestimated you.  I don’t think he believed me at first.”

Willow’s words struck horror in Lynne’s heart.  If Willow had convinced her husband that she wasn’t the ignorant wife who blindly supported her husband, it’d be dangerous.  He loved her but everything had its limit with Steve.  At some point, he’d kill her if he thought it was in his best interest.  She was less dispensable than most but she was still dispensable.

“Why did you go to him?”  Lynne gestured for Willow to sit and offered her something to drink but Willow refused.

“Did you know he hired someone to terrorize me?  Chad says he thinks because he thought I might come seeking help or something which makes no sense but I think Chad was desperate to explain it.  He almost killed Chad.  The man he hired broke into my home, killed my animals, and when I found him, threatened me.”

“What!”  Lynne’s anger boiled.  How dare Steve!  He’d promised!  What was he thinking?

“He grabbed me, told me he’d hurt me if I resisted.  I nearly shot him.”

“I wish you would have.”

Willow’s smile started and then drooped.  “He’s dead.  Someone caused an accident, drugged Chad, hit him in the head, and then shot Ben Fischer, the man who attacked me.”

“Why would Steve- I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either but I told your husband that if he hurt anyone that I love, someone who has my mother’s journals would plaster them across the newspapers and the internet.  Everyone would know what your son did to me.”

The sickened look on Lynne’s face nearly broke Willow’s heart.  “I’m sorry Lynne, but I couldn’t risk anyone else I care about getting hurt.  I don’t have much.  I can’t lose anymore and it’s not fair that I put others in danger.  That’s why I’m here.  If he doesn’t listen- It will happen.”  Her green eyes, mirrors of Lynne’s, pleaded for Lynne to understand.  “I gave the information to someone trustworthy.  Someone that no one would expect.  I just don’t want to hurt you by proxy.”

“You came here to warn me?”

“Yes.  I don’t want to hurt you.  It’s not your fault.”

This was it.  This was the time to make her move.  She sighed deeply and wiped at her eyes.  “I’m never going to be able to have a real friendship with you am I?”  Before Willow could answer, she ran a finger down Willow’s cheek.  “You’re so beautiful.  You look just like I did twenty five years ago but there’s something more to it.”

“Lynne, I don’t know honestly,” Willow tried to move away from the physical closeness.  “I’m not ready for that.  I can’t make promises but I will pray about it.  I will try to be open.  My mother wasn’t afraid of you.  I remember once-”

Sobs wracked Willow’s body.  Emotions she’d stuffed for so long spilled out of her.  Lynne held her granddaughter for the first time in her twenty-three years of life, smoothed her hair, and comforted her.  “What did your mama say sweetheart?”

“She said that the one thing she was able to do with the right attitude was pray for you because no mother should have to find out that her son could do such a thing.”

“It was hard Willow.  I felt so terrible-”

“Don’t.  It’s truly not your fault.”

“But I spoiled him.  I gave him everything.  It made him selfish-”

“But he was an adult Lynne, he made his choices.  At some point, you have to accept responsibility for your actions.”

With a deep breath, Willow stood.  “I have to go.  I can’t stay.  Maybe in a few months, when we feel safe again, I’ll talk to Chad and we’ll pray about it all.  Maybe I’ll write and see about meeting for dinner somewhere.”

“I hope so.”  Lynne waited until Willow reached the door and then begged her to wait.  “I have something.  It was my grandmother’s.  Just a minute.”

Racing up the stairs, Lynne paused to ensure Willow still waited and then hurried to her jewelry box.  She took an antique cameo locket from a tiny drawer and grabbed a jeweler’s box.  She ripped the necklace it held from it and dropped it carelessly on the floor.  Seconds later, she handed it to Willow.  “For your wedding.  You’re supposed to have something old right?  If I can’t be there, maybe a piece of my grandmother can.”

“I can’t take this!  It’s family-”

“You’re family Willow.  Right now with everything going on with Steve, you’re almost all the family I have left.  You don’t want me now, you may never want me, but I want it to be a reminder that you’re wanted.”

“But-”

Lynne squeezed Willow’s hands around the box.  “Ok, if you won’t accept it as a gift, then it’ll be old and borrowed.  A two for one special.  It’s been a long time since I’ve bargained.”

***

Mark Weinbecker stood just inside Steve’s office as Lynne entered.  “Hello Steve, we need to talk.”

“Just outside Mark.”

“Yes sir.”

Steve waited for his wife to reach his side before pulling her into his arms.  “Mmm you smell wonderful.  What brings you here?”

“My granddaughter.”

“What?”

“She came to see me Steve.  She told me very interesting things.  She’s beginning to trust me and with all of your stupidity, I guess I have you to thank for that.”

“Me?”

Lynne gave her husband a slow smile.  “Mmm hmm.”  Her kiss distracted him for a moment.  She strode across the office and then turned back to him.  “Goodbye Steve.  You should have listened to Willow.  She’s right you know.  You severely under estimated me.”

Steve’s eyes widened as she turned, gun facing him, and pulled the trigger.  The shot, hit him between the eyebrows killing him instantly.  Calmly, Lynne retraced her steps, looked in disgust at the sight of blood pooling on the carpet, and sighed as she pulled Steve’s gun from his top desk drawer.

Fabricating panic, she screamed for Mark.  As he entered the room, she fired another shot directly into his forehead killing Mark instantly as well.  She removed all but one of Steve’s bullets and three of Mark’s and fired each one out the window of Steve’s warehouse window using each man’s hand to pull the trigger.  By the time she left, a crime scene looked authentic enough to be plausible but just quirky enough to leave a little doubt.  Steve had always been too eager to make everything too perfect.  Nothing looks perfect.  Nothing.

Before she hurried out the doors, Lynne pulled several her hairs from her head and scattered them from the floor to Mark’s sleeve.  One she caught in his watchband.  Carefully she removed her gloves and scratched his neck.  With the stage set, she drove home.  Franco would be calling about gunshots in minutes and she needed to be gone.  Timing was everything.

Chapter 89~

Two hundred fifty sparkling mini jars of lemon marmalade later, the Tesdall women were exhausted.  Willow, on the other hand, decided to take a trip into the city and purchase fabric for Cheri and the little girl’s dresses.  Armed with a list of fabric stores in the safest areas of the city, she took the bus to Rockland and then hailed a cab.  Though still somewhat overwhelmed by the height of the buildings and the strange ways the cabs zipped in and out of traffic, she rode to the first store and eagerly stepped inside.

Oh the thrill of her first trip into a brick and mortar fabric store.  Nothing could have prepared her for the sheer delight that comes with the rainbow of colors, prints, and textures available on rolls and bolts.  She fingered velvets, organdies, chiffons, and cottons.  From twill, to denim, to chambray, and calico, the store carried it all.  Pattern books were highly distracting and she spent over an hour pouring through them wondering just how people narrowed down their choices.

Unlike most stores, there weren’t many helpful salespeople ready to answer questions or direct customers to the right places.  Willow found that both refreshing and frustrating simultaneously.  However, unlike most customers, she observed.  She watched several women and one man on the floor until she decided who was the most knowledgeable and most helpful and then went to wait for the man to finish helping an elderly woman find the burlap.

“May I help you?”

Something in his mannerisms felt strange.  Willow didn’t know how to categorize it but the man seemed, well, more effeminate than masculine.  However, he knew his merchandise and that was why she was there.  She could think through his personality when she was at her own leisure.  “I’m making bridesmaid and flower girl dresses.  I need a yellow that will blend nicely with the center of daisies.”

“Oh finally someone who knows her own mind.  This is going to be fun!”  His hand gestures, facial excitement, and the exaggerated wink he gave her felt odd but she followed him to the more formal wear fabrics listening to his suggestions and taking note.

“I have a picture of my dress.  I don’t even know what I’m going to do for them, I’ve only been to one wedding, and so I’m a little out of my element.”

“Ok, let me see that dress-” The man, Josh, glanced at the picture, back up at her, and smiled.  “You’re going to be stunning!  That dress- you’ll be a goddess!”  Before she could reply, he led her to a line of different chiffons and charmeuses.  “I think these are probably the right drape for what you want.  Are you going to copy the bodice line or…”

The way Josh rested his hand on his hip reminded Willow of her mother.  She’d always propped one hand on her hip while thinking.  “I want something similar as far as the empire waist and the accent there, but I want something different for the upper bodice.  I was thinking…”  As she spoke, Willow pulled out a notebook and drew a dress with a similar waist and skirt line but falling to just below the knees.  “It’s outdoors so I thought if they were in something shorter, it’d be more comfortable.  Why should we all have to fight skirts!”

“Now that’s the way to think.  Keep it in fitting with your setting.  Your flowers are daisies then?”

“With lilacs on tables.”

“Luscious.  I love it.  Ok, well if you took this here and just criss crossed fabric drooping over the shoulders like this-” Josh took the pencil from her hand and made a few sketches.  “Then you’d have the same feel but your dress is still unique as is theirs.”

“Well I only have one bridesmaid- and then a young girl too old to wear something childish but too young for this look.”

Josh sat thoughtfully.  “How old?”

“Fourteen I think.”

“Oh my stars I think you are wonderful.  So many little girls at that age are wearing nightclub apparel.  It’s ridiculous. What if, instead of this, we just do a simple neckline kind of like yours but several inches higher so it barely scoops at all from the neck?  You could use that for the little dresses too but with a different waist.”

For an hour, they planned and collaborated until Willow knew exactly what she needed and helped him carry piles of bolts and rolls to the cutting table.  He teased and joked with her as he cut until she felt like she’d known him for years.  Huge shopping bags stood waiting by the register as she paid for her purchases shocked at what seemed to her like an obscene amount of money.

“Well, I guess I don’t need this list anymore.”

“We’re glad you came here first!  You’ve been the most interesting customer we’ve had in weeks.  Congratulations on your marriage,” he continued, “And may God bless you.”

“He already has.  Chad is blessing enough.”

A wistful look crossed the young man’s face but Willow didn’t have time to ask about it.  A cab pulled up to the curb and popped the trunk for them to load her bags.  “Goodbye Willow.  Knock ‘em dead at that wedding.”

She started to direct the driver to the travel hub but remembering the huge bags of fabric, she demurred.  “Can you go as far as Westbury?”

“Of course,” the man answered in a heavy accent she couldn’t recognize.  “But it will be very expensive.  I am thinking the last fare was forty-eight dollars.”

“Not a problem.  Thanks.”

***

Chad sped toward Willow’s farm lost in thought.  Each mile toward Fairbury, left him feeling even more unsettled than the last until he finally whipped his truck around at the rest stop and drove back to Westbury.  Through the familiar streets of the city, he navigated around traffic until he pulled into the massive parking lot of his father’s store.

Stella saw him, the pained expression on his face, and buzzed him immediately into the office entrance.  “Go on up Chad.  Your dad’s up there going over this weeks order I think.”

“Thanks  Stella.”

“How’s the girl- is she the one you’re getting married to?”

“Willow is fine,” Chad assured her.  “May.”

“Congratulations.  I always said you’d be a catch.”

Chad waved and climbed the stairs to his father’s office.  He had no doubt that his father had seen the exchange and wondered about it.  He passed a few of the employees clocking in and out and waved at the ones he knew.

“Hey Chad.  What’s up son?”

“Oh Pop.”

Christopher never understood this side of Chad.  He seemed almost girlie when he was wrapped in emotional knots and emotions were something that Christopher, like many men, didn’t ‘do’ well with emotions.  “What is it son?”

“I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

Grinning, Chad shook his head and sighed.  Sometimes his father was a little too much like Luke for Chad’s comfort.  “Be a husband.  No, better than that, I don’t know how to be a husband to Willow.  You were right.  I’m hanging onto my emotions by a narrow tether.”

“I knew once you opened yourself up, you’d fall hard.”

“Why do you think I’ve kept the door to my heart locked so tight-”

Christopher interrupted before the conversation delved deeper into the emotional abyss Chad occasionally skirted.  “Well, you don’t have that right anymore.”

“What?”  This was not what Chad had expected and he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it.

“You offered yourself to a good woman.  You can’t hold part of you back out of self preservation.”

“But she-”

Sharply, Christopher shook his head and pounded his index finger on the desk between them.  “This isn’t about Willow.  This is about Chadwick Elliot Tesdall.  Chad needs to get over himself and start denying self in favor of his bride-to-be.  You don’t get to offer only part of yourself.  Even if Willow holds back, you can’t.”

“Well I can’t exactly-”

Very patiently but firmly, Christopher stopped his son’s self-centered ranting.  “Son.  This isn’t about you.  This is about Willow.  This is about denying self because you love her.  This is about denying self because you promised, when you asked her to be your wife, to give yourself- and that includes your needs, wants, and desires, up for her.  For her.  Not for the marriage, not for yourself to make you feel good about who you are.  For her.  You.  Will.  Deny.  Self.  It’s what being a husband is.  You will-”

“I get it.”

“I don’t think you do.  I think you’re still stuck in the memory of how it felt to sleep with an attractive woman in your arms.”

“Oh Pop.”

“I’ll give you ice packs at your bachelor dinner.”  A confused look crossed Chad’s face.  “Well, it’s kind of hard to wrap a cold shower…”

“You’re bad dad.  You are very bad.”  He stood to leave but at the door, he turned.  “I think I’ll need a couple of gross.  Just get Chris to go in on them with you.”

Christopher’s laughter followed him out the door and down the steps.  He started toward home again but once more, retraced his path all the way home this time.  The weight of his father’s words felt as though they were crushing him.  He needed his mother’s perspective as well.  The truth his father spoke didn’t negate his need for support and understanding and time had proven his mother to be an excellent source for both.

The house seemed empty as he entered.  Tiny jars of the marmalade covered every surface of the kitchen and a large number stood stacked on the dining room table next to a case of boxes.  The sound of the shower upstairs told him that’s where he’d probably find his mother but then the metallic ring of the dryer door shutting in the basement sent him downstairs instead.

“Mom?”

“I thought you were going home to rest Chad?”

“I had to talk to Pop and then you know how that goes, I need a bit of balance after one of his talks.”

“What did he say?”  Marianne knew how personally Chad took her husband’s blunt rebukes.

“He said I had to give Willow everything I have and that holding back any part of me was wrong.”

Marianne beckoned her son to the lumpy couch in one corner of the basement.  The old couch, the same one she’d sat on as she fed Chad his bottles so many years before, was still the favored location of mother/child talks in the Tesdall house.  “Son, you don’t want to hear this but your Dad is right.”

“Mom I don’t know if I can-”

“Let me tell you something Chad.  You can do a lot more than you think you can.  I’m not going to tell you the background but there was a time in our marriage when I didn’t trust your father.  It wasn’t completely his fault, if anything, it was mostly mine, but I didn’t.  At first, he, as justified as it probably was, held back and protected himself emotionally from my tirades.”

“You-”

Marianne nodded ruefully.  “I said, it was ugly.  Anyway, he took it to Pastor Edmundson.  Remember him?”

“Yeah.  Old guy.  He always terrified me but I trusted him completely.  It was strange.”

“Well, Pastor E told your dad to treat me like the cherished wife of his dreams.”

“Even if you were being the wife from the nether regions?”

Marianne nodded ruefully.  “And I was.  Really.  I was absolutely horrible.  I’m so ashamed of how horrible I was.”  With a deep breath, she continued her story.  “You know, I know that sometimes you feel like your father is distant or insensitive.  I know I used to think that sometimes too but this time, well, I saw the side of him that is where you get your intuition and compassion.  He was so good to me, so gentle, so loving.  He held my hand, hugged me, held me, and kissed me as often as I’d let him.  The more I pushed him away the closer he came.  While everyone was demanding him to ‘give her space’ he did all the little things I’d hoped for for years.”

“Was that when I was in the fourth grade?”

“You remember,” she whispered.  “I always wondered how much you picked up.  Chris never did but you were always attuned to the emotional climate of the house.”

“I remember weeks of silence except at the table, at church, and when we’d play a game.  Then everything was very polite.  Too polite.  You didn’t tease anymore.  Then one day, I came home and dad was stroking your hair as you peeled potatoes.  You hated it.”

“No, son.  I hated that I loved it.  I’d always hoped he’d show that kind of tenderness but until that time, he only showed it behind closed doors and with other things in mind.”

“Gross mom.”

Marianne waggled her eyebrows and winked.  “You asked for it.  No, seriously.  That is about the time he changed.”

“I thought you were going to get a divorce.”

“What!”  This was something she’d never considered much less thought would concern her children.  “Whatever gave you that idea?”

“All those weeks of frost and then dad thawed but you seemed to grow colder by the minute.  I didn’t know what was wrong or why but-”

“That’s exactly what happened son. Your dad lived the Word in our marriage.  He cherished me, died to self for me, and loved me in ways I’d always hoped for and hadn’t expected.  The reality of it took my breath away.”

“You guys have been ridiculously mushy ever since.”

“Libby chewed me out.  Royally.  Honestly, it was the worst dressing down of my life.  I felt a lot like that when I let Willow have it.”

“You weren’t too hard on her were you?”

“She had the facts of life.  That she knew well.  She needed the life of those facts.”

“That’s an interesting way to put it.”

“She’s home.  I hear the door.  Go help her and act like a fiancée.  It’s all new to her in ways that most of us cannot fathom.”

Half way up the stairs, Chad paused.  “I love you mom.”

Chapter 88~

Sniffling, Willow crawled in a sleepy stupor from her covers, down the hall, and into Chad’s room.  His occasional snores didn’t pierce her dream-like consciousness nor did he waken when she crawled under his covers, curled up under his arm, and continued sleeping as though she hadn’t moved.  Seconds passed.  Minutes.  The clock downstairs struck the hour and still, with one arm curled around her, they slept.

Chad dreamed of lavender fields and satin dresses with a face he couldn’t visualize in the distance of his subconscious mind.  A shudder rippled over something beneath his arm and instinctively he wrapped his arms tighter around it protectively.

One eye opened warily and the sight of Willow’s hair forced open the other eye.  He started to move away but she rolled over, facing him, and curled her head into the crook of her arm whimpering, “Mother.”

Rubbing her back, he tried to wake her.  “Willow.”  His whisper was anything but quiet yet she still slumbered.  He gently shook her shoulder but the wince on her face and the agitation in her spirit hurt him.  He couldn’t bring himself to force her awake like that.

He lay praying, for several minutes, torn between the nearly overwhelming desire to hold her through her nightmares and forget how bad it looked and the realization that it’d only be harder for him in the future if he did.  Never had he been so murderously furious at Solari than at that moment.

He prayed.  For several minutes, occasionally brushing her hair away from her face and amazed at how young she looked while sleeping, he laid praying and contemplating how to best extricate himself without causing Willow any more pain.  His cell phone flashed signaling a text message waiting and it gave him an idea.

He grabbed the phone, dialed the house number, and waited.  Christopher’s groggy voice answered nervously.  “Yes?”

“Dad, it’s me,” he whispered loudly enough to carry down the hall and into his father’s room without the cell phone had his parents’ door not been shut.

“What is it?  Did you have to go in last night?”

“No, I’m in my room.  I need help.”

Christopher sat up in bed waving his wife back under the covers and grabbed his robe.  Stuffing his feet in his slippers, he padded down the hallway confused as to why he was talking on a cell phone to his son twelve feet away.  The sight of Willow in his son’s bed curled against him answered the question.

“Do you-”

“Shh!”  Chad’s order would have been comical had the situation not been what Christopher considered to be very serious.

“Mind telling me-” he continued in a quieter tone, “What on earth she is doing in your bed!”

“I don’t know.  I just woke up and she was here.  I tried to wake her up but she whimpers and calls out for her mother.  It’s heartbreaking.”

“You can’t just let her sleep there.  Not even-”

“Dad, trust me I know!”  The look in Chad’s eyes told Christopher just how difficult this was for his son.

“So what am I here for?”

“Ideas. I need some fast.  Preferably-”  Willow stirred in his arms, rolled over once more and fitted her back perfectly against Chad’s chest before her rhythmic breathing continued as though uninterrupted.  Chad groaned.  “-something that doesn’t wake her up and embarrass her.”

“Carry her to her room?”

“I don’t know.  Somehow I think she’d just come back.”

“Don’t be here.  Go sleep in Cheri’s bed.”  Christopher was growing irritated.  Chad was being overly accommodating and he wondered if it wasn’t due to a desire to keep things exactly as they were.

Chad’s eyes lit up.  “That’s a great idea.  Can you go get that big long dancing doll that hangs in Cheri’s corner?  I’ll warm it up and wedge it between us before I get out.”

“Son, you have issues.”

“Don’t I know it?”

***

Willow stretched yawning.  The bed was more comfortable than she’d remembered.  Her eyes opened and she screamed.  Chad heard her from the den where he conferred with his parents and raced upstairs.  She sat with knees against her chest in the middle of his bed, staring horrified at the doll lying beside her.

“How did I get here?”

Stuffing his hands awkwardly in his pockets, Chad tried to appear nonchalant.  “You crawled into bed with me sometime around three.”

“I did what!”  Mortified, Willow pressed her forehead to her knees and tried to remember her dreams.

“I think you had a nightmare.  You were whimpering- calling for your mother.  I didn’t know how to help you.”

“I can’t believe I-”

“Well, I couldn’t stay there of course, so I let you curl up with Ginger.”

“Ginger?”

Chad pointed to the doll.  “Cheri named her after Ginger Rogers.”  He still hadn’t moved.  The sight of her sitting tousle headed in the middle of his bed was nearly as difficult as waking up next to him.  “You ok now?”

Willow, on the other hand, felt the hesitation and awkwardness keenly.  “Are you mad at me?”

This snapped Chad out of his wanted but unwelcome memory.  “Of course not.  Come here.”

She stared at him curiously.  He’d sat on her bed dozens of times smoothing her hair, feeding her, praying with her.  What about her sitting on his bed was making him so aloof? Something in his expression reassured her, however, and she sprang from the bed wrapping her arms around him as she did.  “Morning.”

His deep chuckle, the one she’d grown to love, made her smile.  “Morning Willow Annie.  You hungry?”

“Starving.”

All through breakfast and the marmalade process, the women teased Willow and Chad good-naturedly trying to calm highly charged air the hovered over the house.  Chad left to buy more boxes of lemons and everything calmed.  “I think he needed to leave earlier.”

“What?”  Willow glanced at the empty doorway almost sadly.

“Didn’t you feel it?  All the tension is gone.”

“Well if you guys weren’t constantly talking about my most embarrassing-” She paused.  A sudden feeling washed over her- one she didn’t recognize ever feeling before but one she liked.  Security, tenderness, and something indescribable hovered over a vague memory.

“What?”  Cheri noticed the change in Willow’s demeanor.

“I don’t know.  It’s just- I think I remember what it felt like to be asleep with Chad there.  It felt- safe.”

“Well duh!  My brother is a cop!  You’d better feel safe in his bed!”  Cheri blushed. “Wait- that came out wrong.”

“Nice one Cheri,” Marianne commented dryly.

“Well!”

Willow’s face grew thoughtful.  “I was so glad we’d decided on separate rooms.  I hated sharing a bed with Mother.  I thought it’d be the same but it was comfortable I think.  My memory, little that I have, says comfortable.  Maybe we can share a room.  We don’t have to-”

“Do not do that to my son,” Marianne said with an edge to her tone.  “It’s cruel.  Don’t do it.”

“Do what?”

Cheri disappeared from the room.  Willow and Marianne hardly noticed as she rinsed her hands, dried them, and slipped into the den pulling the pocket doors closed behind her.  Her mother’s face had been enough.  This was going to get dicey and Cheri didn’t want to be involved.

Marianne smiled inwardly at the immediate disappearance of her daughter.  “You can’t ask my son to sleep in your bed, hold you through your painful dreams, but somehow keep his own needs and desires stuffed away in a trunk somewhere inside him until you’re willing to unlock it.”

“I’m lost.”

“That’s clear.”  The disappointed angst in Marianne’s voice was unmistakable.

Willow’s eyes filled with tears.  Marianne was truly angry with her.  “I don’t know what I did to upset you Marianne, but I’m sorry.  I’d never-”

Chad’s mother felt like a heel.  The girl had no idea what her warped mindset would do to Chad.  She also realized that had she known, she wouldn’t have agreed to marry him and at this point, Chad could handle almost anything more than that.  “Willow honey, you’re just a little naïve sometimes.”

“I know that.  Chad’s always teasing me.”

“Well this time your naiveté is going to hurt my son.  Daily.  I can’t keep my mouth shut this time.”

“This time?”

“Let’s sit down,” Marianne said rinsing her own hands and tugging on Willow’s sleeve as she led her to the couches in the living room.  “We need to talk.”

Willow listened, eyes wide and a myriad of emotions running through her mind as Marianne explained the one side of men and marriage that Willow had so studiously avoided.  Knowing clinical information and vile misuses of that had so warped her thinking that she’d never grasped that there were people who truly looked forward to a more intimate side of marriage.  Of course, her mind knew it.  If she thought about it she knew that books and movies, and even her friends and Chad’s family embraced an attitude that she knew instinctively was healthier than her own.

“Am I irreparable?  Why am I so dead-”

“You’re not.  You are not dead to this.  I think when you feel the same emotions any woman would feel, you translate them as fear and flee them.  It’s been programmed into you for so long that this is something to avoid and reject that you don’t let yourself relax and examine it.”

“Why do I have a feeling,” Willow began nervously, “That you are going to try to convince me to change my mind?”

“I am challenging you Willow.  I am challenging you to trust my son.  Trust the Lord.  Read Song of Solomon and Corinthians.  Marriage isn’t supposed to be about camaraderie alone.  But,” she continued with a trace of her earlier edge still hovering near her words, “Do not put my son in a position to have to suffer because he loves you.  I’ve always said I wouldn’t be an interfering mother-in-law but I will step in if that happens.”

Willow’s head hung dejectedly.  Maybe this marriage thing was a bad idea.  “I don’t know- I-”

“If you break my son’s heart because of your lack of trust in him and the Lord, I’ll know you weren’t the young woman I thought you were.  Don’t be selfish.  My son is giving so much.  Give him something to take now and then.”

They sat ruminating for several minutes before Willow glanced up at Marianne embarrassed but curious.  “Truly painful?”

“Physical torture honey.  Don’t.”

“Wow.”

***

As Chad returned to Fairbury, he relived his conversation with Cheri.  “Mom really let her have it.”

The anger welled in his heart as he heard of his mother’s rebuke.  Willow didn’t know.  How was she supposed to know?  He’d made his choice, it was his to make, and his mother had no right to interfere.  “I can’t believe mom-”

“They talked for a long time.  I don’t know what mom said exactly but Willow and she seemed fine once it was over.”

“That probably explains Willow’s distance though.  She seemed afraid to talk to me.”

“I don’t think it’s that,” Cheri argued.  “I think she’s still processing.”

“What did she say exactly that made mom get so upset?”

Cheri hadn’t planned to tell him.  Why put him through the memory?  However, one look at his face and she couldn’t keep quiet. “She remembered how it felt sleeping with you- well not sleeping with you but-”

“Yeah, I get it.  Go on.”

Cheri blushed as she stumbled over her faux pas.  “Anyway, she liked it.  She said something about sharing a room and just skipping the-”

His laughter surprised her.  The longer he laughed, the harder it grew until he clutched his sides and tears ran down his face.  “Oh that’s rich.  Poor mom.  Poor Willow.”

Cheri stood staring at him for several seconds and shook her head.  “Whatever.  I’m just glad you’re not mad at them anymore.”

Now, alone in his truck, Chad smiled again.  “I can’t believe it was that easy,” he murmured to himself.

As he sped toward Fairbury, Chad planned.  He’d have to be careful- treat her exactly as he always had.  He’d be warm, affectionate, and in the days leading up to their wedding, he’d add in that kiss.  She’d grown impatient for it but he wasn’t going to make it too easy.  Where was the fun in that?