Story Short Story: Quinn (Complete)

[Kathy in FL]

This earworm took over my ability to write on the other stories. Sorry about that. It is shorter than I normally write. Fourteen chapters. It probably needs some editing. But I want this thing posted so it will leave me alone. I feel sleep deprived because the plot would play in my head over and over. Gah. I sound silly. Probably lack of sleep on top of everything else. Combination of lots of different news stories in the media over the last few weeks and a few youtube documentaries on top of it that I had playing in the background while I was filing.

---------------------------

Quinn

Chapter One​

Four coffins. They’ll get reused. They are just for the viewing. Nathaniel’s mother insisted despite them being the only ones in stock this week. Who would have thought that government regulations would have caused such a change in the funeral business. And why do the bereaved have to get lectured about environmental issues when they are making arrangements? Used to be funeral directors would be the one person you could expect some sympathy and compassion from even if it was fake. These days they are as bad as the bedside manner of most doctors. But all of that is just background noise.

She is the one that insisted I pay for them despite her antics getting the accounts locked down until things go before the judge. At least the lawyers said that it would come out of the estate before any disbursal of funds regardless of who inherits. Geez. That I should be thinking of all this right now. Maybe I am the heartless monster that she says I am and that she is slowly convincing other people of.

No. Stop it Quinn. What happened was not your fault. It was his. He is responsible and accountable for his actions whether he is still here to take those consequences or not. Sigh. If only I had realized what this was and where it would lead a long time ago.

Time to change the Pooper and Easton could probably use a break from all the prying eyes as well. I wish I had someone I could trust to watch him and Vaughn, just for the Viewing at least, but even if I did, I basically dare not. There are too many other people I can no longer trust. Too much has been said. It doesn’t seem to matter that the gun was in his hands, too many people are looking at me like I should be the one to take the punishment. As if I wasn’t suffering at all. Oh gawd, I knew it. She’s going to start something up here, despite what this time and place is supposed to be for.

“Aunt Quinn …?”

“I know Buddy. I see her. Just stay behind me.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Mrs. Clayton, I am given to understand that you don’t want to register a complaint.”

Nearly too tired to compute what has gone on this day, and many of the days that came before it, I answered, “No Sir, I don’t.”

“Are you sure? They can only hold her for three days. After the hold is over, they will more than likely release her, but while I suspect it will be with the requirement to see a psychiatrist for treatment and counseling, that’s difficult to enforce. It’s either that or the County will bring her up on charges to force her into a plea bargain. Difficult to say at this juncture but my advice is to at a minimum get a restraining order against both of them. Filling out a complaint could help with that. Her daughter is scheduled to go before the judge, but it won’t be until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. She kicked up a fuss during booking and now has a few additional charges pending. Had that not happened she would likely have been released on her own recognizance. Have no idea what will happen now, will depend on the judge she gets. My understanding from the Prosecutor is that she is having trouble getting a bail bondsman due to saying that she would skip town and all of the other nonsense she was spouting. And the other one, the sister they had to take to the hospital, is not having a lot of luck finding criminal representation for either the sister or the mother as the mother’s cousin clearly has a conflict of interest, plus he has only handled civil cases. Her sister taking a good bit of flesh out of the man’s face with her claws didn’t help either.”

Small towns. Everyone knows everything about everyone, and especially about the influential families. Gossip seems to be inexhaustible yet never gets to the people it could help the most until it is too late.

The last bit the sheriff had warned me about was news, but the rest had already been explained to me by Dr. Willis, a deacon in the church I’ve been attending since my engagement. A man much less ineffectual than Pastor Carmody who is under the paw of certain families in the church.

To the Sheriff I nodded respectfully and said, “The Wills are being read in the morning … this morning I mean since it is now passed midnight. Everything that I intend on removing from the household is already packed up and waiting for pick up and that will happen immediately after the Reading regardless of what the lawyers dicker out. My brother’s house has already been emptied and the contents moved as that was in process prior to … to … it all happening. My father’s former house had already been converted to a rental and … and he’d just accepted an offer for it from the people living there. That contract will be honored and there is a closing scheduled tomorrow or the day after depending on the paperwork being ready. The closing on the sale of my brother’s house will take place immediately before or immediately after that one. Beyond that? We won’t be around and anything legal can be handled by Mr. Reedmire and he knows how to get in contact with me if it is necessary or needful.”

The Sheriff looked at me with that professionally blank face that Dad used to say he did so well he must have been born with it, before giving me his own nod and finally leaving me alone to go back to the group of people still standing on the steps of the funeral home. Dad, Stevenson, Nathaniel, and Anderson are — no, their bodies are — buried. The funeral home had needed the caskets for a funeral directly after the one we’d been trying to have. The news says that the death rate is twice what it was during the Victorian Era. I’m not sure how to quantify that. Mostly the news media (aka an arm of the federal government) just makes people a little crazier each day with their headlines. I do know that truly elderly people are getting rare for various reasons and life expectancy overall is shrinking. But there are a lot of unnatural deaths as well. The murder rate continues to sore in large urban areas and even out here in Hicksville we have our spikes. Case in point is the situation I find myself in and how I am being forced to deal with it.

Mrs. Clayton Sr.’s antics, my mother-in-law, meant there had been no graveside service. I think when I get some rest, I’ll be angry at her for that. Pastor Carmody might be a little wishy washy when it comes to church social hierarchy but his eulogies are always on point and helpful to the bereaved and the grieving. Maybe it is for the best. I never wanted for it all to turn into the circus that it has.

Dad and Montgomery would have been horrified and mortified; at the violence and at the spectacle it has turned into. Not by my choice but I’m left dealing with it. I’m already angry at Mrs. Clayton for other things. Just like I’m angry at Charisse and Brianna. I’m angry at a lot of people for a lot of things. Unhealthy angry and that’s why I’ve decided to take Nanny Claxton up on her offer. She may be Dad’s spinster great aunt – the youngest daughter of a late in life third marriage by Dad’s grandfather – but she loves us without reservation. And the boys and I love her, and she needs the help, and it looks like the rest of those we could claim as kin just aren’t interested in being family, or maybe I should practice some kindness and sat at least not the kind of family I need right now even if that does sound incredibly selfish on my part.

Family. It is what started this way back when Nathaniel and I were in second grade. Someone couldn’t tell a Y from an X and our lunches got mixed up. The rest, as they say, is history.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Two​

Sitting in the lawyer’s office, air conditioning uncomfortably cold so that the lawyer could keep his business coat on without staining it with sweat, I was stunned and could only look at the papers I was supposed to sign.

“Mrs. Clayton?”

“Yes?”

“Do you understand?”

I slowly shook my head. I was the only one in the room besides the lawyer and his secretary. “No. No, I don’t. Where did this money come from? Shouldn’t this return to the Clayton Family?” I asked

“Ah, as to that …” He paused.

“Yes?”

“I … the instructions left by the client … your husband … said I wasn’t at liberty to tell Mrs. Clayton Sr or any named on that side of the family. However, I don’t think Mr. Clayton … the Junior Mr. Clayton … really … hmmmm.”

“If you are trying to say he didn’t really think he’d still be married to me before his death, and hadn’t bothered making arrangements just in case, you won’t shock me by stating the facts. And please call me Quinn. You have my entire life Mr. Reedmire.”

The man noticeably relaxed. “Quinn …” Then he stopped and shook his head seriously. “I had no idea that Bob Schocksby had handled things this way. What you must understand is that Bob suddenly retiring as he did after saying he would die ‘in the saddle’ rather than leave the firm surprised all of us here at Martinelli and Shocksby. I was handed his client list and most of his cases just last week and I still haven’t touched more than a few files. Frankly some of them are older than you are and a couple older than I am. Bob was eighty-six and while he had already delegated all but a few special cases, he still held some of them tightly and privately. The Claytons were one of those families he handled for the firm, just like his father and uncle before him had.”

“Is this leftover stuff from Mr. Clayton Sr.’s passing two years ago?”

“Yes … and no.” He turned to his secretary and said, “Shelly, if I were you I would go ahead and leave for the day.”

She looked relieved. “Of course Mr. Reedmire. Text me anything that can’t wait until Monday.”

After she left I turned and looked at Mr. Reedmire, a longtime friend of my father’s and said, “That bad?”

“You’re very calm, unnaturally so given the circumstances. Are you on any prescriptions? It could make signing the papers suspect.”

“No. Some people might think I need them but … I’ve just had too much practice since the trial started. I’m not calm but resigned. I keep thinking that the last unpleasant surprise will be the last unpleasant surprise only to find out … it isn’t. And it is either force myself to remain calm or … or act unpleasant. And I don’t want to do that. I can’t afford to give Nathaniel’s mother and sisters any real ammunition. They’ve become invested in Nathaniel’s lies to the point that …” I stopped, unwilling to verbalize my suspicions that they’d been covering for him for years.

He settled back into his chair and nodded. “Agreed.” He steepled his fingers. “First, as far as I can tell there is no way that your mother-in-law has any knowledge of this. The lawyer and court costs used much of what was his privately. I doubt she even suspects anything about the remainder. She’s been heard to say the only thing you are getting are debts and most everyone seems to believe the same thing. As for why she doesn’t know, that gets … complicated. She didn’t particularly get on well with her sister and brother-in-law. The fact that her sister was married to her husband’s elder brother didn’t help things with the family dynamics from what I’ve heard over the years. And there was a distance from the elder Claytons as well. Did you ever meet them?”

“I guess it was in middle school. They tolerated me because of Nate but … they didn’t live long enough after that for me to form any kind of real impression of them beyond the fact they could be scary and they were important people with contacts beyond town. They never directed it at me, but they didn’t bother hiding it either. That and Dad didn’t want me going to the Manor if Mr. Clayton Sr. wasn’t there. Dad never did say why, but he did lay that particular law down.”

“Because there was a third son and a cousin on that side that were fast and loose and …” He shrugged. “They were a couple of years older than us,” he said meaning him and Dad. “And we didn’t exactly run in the same circles. We were just poor county kids, the both of us and thankfully beneath their notice. The Claytons had a different fast set they hung out with. Most of it is just rumors. Never any proof except there are the Claytons of this generation, all sent out of town to private schools unlike Nate, and rarely to never coming back home these days. And … hmmm … there is an illegitimate son of the cousin that …”

“That?”

“I don’t suppose there is any harm in telling you. It is an open secret in some places.” I waited him out. “Grayson Carver. He is a Clayton by birth, just no one has ever confirmed which of the men of that generation was his father and his mother … God rest her soul … didn’t live long enough to really make an issue of it. She and your mother were shirt tail cousins according to your father.”

I blinked then shrugged. “That would explain the weird vibes.”

“You’ve had problems with him?” he asked, becoming upset.

“No. Absolutely not. Just the opposite. I mean he can be reserved but considering what he does for a career that shouldn’t be surprising.”

“Reserved,” he said sounding puzzled. Then he acted like a brick had fallen in place and he nodded. “Your father described him about the same way when they’d crossed paths. I’ve only met him once or twice but … his reputation precedes him.” Clearing his head with a shake Mr. Reedmire said, “Lost the trail of the story. Knowing your father and apples not falling far from their tree you’ll probably just be irritated at the soap opera of it all.”

From there he proceeded to explain. “Mr. Clayton Sr’s great grandfather … and several generations before that … had investments, and streams of income we’ll call them, that aren’t what anyone would want to claim in polite company. Some of the ‘investments’ were in this area even before the town was incorporated and some were from even further back when the Clayton held land holding in the Caribbean. One of them is rumored to be gun running during the Civil War but don’t bring it up in company because no one is for sure which side or if it was for both sides. They were, or did business with, pirates in the Caribbean and slave trade back as far the colonial era. They were also into bathtub gin and moonshine during Prohibition. Then there were the mines before they were shut down mid-century last. Some of what they were involved in isn’t fit for your ears and to be honest are nothing but rumors that are years out of date and unprovable.” He sniffed his disdain for such antics and then continued on. “Then the man everyone calls ‘Elder Clayton’ – Mr. Clayton Sr’s grandfather – got religion as they used to describe it. It caused a schism in the family and that I can prove. He decided he wanted to legitimize the Clayton family legacy … and cover up some of the scandals that were beginning to create problems they could no longer buy their way out of. That’s supposedly when the family got out or sold out of these less than legitimate businesses. What didn’t stop was their backroom moneylending … at least until the IRS took an interest in their books but that was before you were born.” He stopped talking and just looked at me, this time waiting me out.

I asked, “Is this money illegal? Has this money has been laundered in some way to legitimize it.”

I got a small smile of approval for that question. “No. I can tie it directly back to legitimate business practices.”

“But?”

“No buts. There is no way that any forensic accountant or investigator would be able to factually prove these aren’t legitimate funds. Nathaniel’s uncle was a painfully careful man in that respect.” Then he nodded, “However, should Nathaniel’s mother ever find out about this money … or other members of his family … they could potentially show cause and keep you in court long enough use the funds all up. So …”

“So,” I said back to him.

“As your lawyer I am … suggesting … that you get your name on these accounts immediately – I’ve already gotten the paperwork started to save some time since the accounts, most of them, are well out of the area and all of them are out of state. However, I would wait a while to use them. Let things quiet back down in case your mother-in-law or her representatives are watching you. And afterwards take small amounts out at a time and move them to investment accounts or for you and the boys to live on. You need the advice of a good tax and estate planner but I’d go to Louisville for that, or Nashville, and try and keep it tied to your brother’s estate for the boys. And yes, it is subterfuge, but necessary for now.”

I was silent for a moment before asking, “Did Nate defraud his family?”

“No. This money was set aside for him by his grandfather and was kept completely separate from his father’s inheritance which was substantial in its own right. Nate’s uncle is the one that managed the funds until his death, his wife continued to keep it secret until her death six months ago at which time it was completely turned over to Nate who opted to keep it a further family secret and hadn’t changed any of the heirs. It listed a generic ‘wife’ as his heir … and you were still his wife at the time of his death regardless of divorce proceedings having begun. Some of this I was able to trace to funds his uncle and aunt left him from their own estate as they’d had no children of their own. And before you ask, no a child heir was not mentioned so no complication there. In addition to that …” He looked at me with enough compassion my calm façade almost broke before saying, “The judge upheld Nate’s position that he’d given up his parental rights to the child even before it was born. Maddie was caught in so many lies, and the child’s foster family’s petition to have her right’s stripped …” He shrugged unwilling for my sake to reexplain what I already knew. “They don’t want anything and don’t need anything. The girl is well taken care of and while she knows she’s adopted … at least an adoption is being finalized, they aren’t going to give her the details until she is older, and they’ve said it is going to be done while the family goes to counseling. Beyond that? Maddie will go to jail if she doesn’t abide by the non-disclosure agreement.”

I sighed. “I still don’t know why Stevenson and Anderson were over that day talking to Dad.”

“They were offering to help.”

“Help with what?” I asked, finally finding someone willing to fill in that piece of the puzzle.

“Honey, your father was a sick man. And Nate had … had made some threats.”

“I know,” I said surprising him. “He said he’d try and get custody of the boys and let’s admit it, it might have worked if everything else hadn’t come out when Maddie turned those video recordings over to the Sheriff. Nate was threatening a lot of people. His temper must have gotten away from him for some reason. I wasn’t there but Mrs. Gilroy next door gave a lengthy statement to the police that they aren’t releasing, and she’s admitted to me that Charisse has threatened her with a lawsuit if she talks to anyone at all but especially me. The Gilroy’s don’t have the kind of money to defend themselves again that sort of thing so I haven’t pushed.”

“Yes, Nate was threatening a lot of people. I’ve seen the videos Maddie had. She brought them to this firm trying to get representation from the firm and Mr. Martinelli specifically. He was the one that convinced her to take them to the sheriff. Nate’s mother and sisters are trying to deny it but the things he said …” He shook his head. “Hard to fathom. Never would have thought it of him.”

I didn’t tell him what I’d never brought myself to tell Dad, but there were a lot of things about Nate that were hard to fathom that people didn’t know about. Montgomery had known, had figured it out after he overheard a conversation between Nate and I and how I’d cringed without a hand being raised. My brother promised to take it to the grave as long as I promised to not go back to Nate and get in counseling for the scars I won’t show, and more for the scars that don’t show. Then Rachel had accidentally drowned in their bathtub after taking some pain pills for her knee that she’d wrecked up while she was pregnant with Vaughn. That had caused my brother’s increasingly fragile immune system to go haywire – thank you you bastard vaccine mandates – and he’d passed from pericarditis two months after his wife, leaving me and Dad his sons’ guardians. Now there’s just me.

And there’s also just me to clean up the mess – a mild word for what it is – that Nate has left behind. Four men dead. My father, Maddie’s brother, and Nate’s own brother. And then Nate who suicided by cop because he was too big a coward to face the consequences of his own actions. That’s the worst but that isn’t all that has left me reeling. The guns, the paranoia, the fact that Maddie wasn’t the only woman that offered Nate benefits without a ring attached. Another child, this one he’d recently come to believe was his but turns out never was. The storage bays and lockers across the state line in both directions that I’m still finding and emptying as the “payment due” notices come in the mail or the bank account. The hoarder’s nightmare at the vacation cottage that his father bought us and we … or at least I … never even used. The old fashioned safe that had been in the closet of the bedroom Nate has used as an office. I don’t think I’m going to have to hire someone to drill it out now that I’ve got these papers to go through … with more account numbers and information to go through, one of which is a list of combinations. I recognize a couple of numbers on the list that correspond to the locks that I’ve already used bolt cutters to remove on cabinets in what was our basement.

Some of the other stuff is easier. Dad and Montgomery had already put my name on their legal and estate matters. I just hadn’t expected to inherit it much less the way I did and as soon as I did. Then to find out that Stevenson, Nate’s brother, had taken his mother and Charisse’s names off as his executors and put me on in their place without my knowledge. That was another shock today. Mr. Reedmire agreed that Stevenson had asked too much … not asked at all just assumed and used me against his mother and sisters thereby unintentionally setting me up. He suggested I take the file, read Stevenson’s handwritten notes and reasons, and then put the estate in a trust and drop it in a lawyer’s lap, a firm outside of the area, possibly in Chicago or somewhere like that. Far enough away they can’t run to the lawyer’s office every week to complain or beg. I’m giving it serious consideration. I’m going to make that decision in the next couple of days.

So many things to do. And Vaughn is teething on top of everything else. And Easton gets separation anxiety every time I get out of his sight for long. Both boys tolerate their Aunt Becky … Rachel’s sister … but she’s not a kid person, doesn’t want any of her own and won’t be around much longer as she is heading out on some kind of “finding herself” [again] world safari. I’ve got to get all this stuff rolled up so I can move on to Nanny Claxton’s place. She needs the help, we need the peace.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Three​

“Mr. Carver …” I was trying to maintain a grip on my sanity but the rope was getting frayed.

“Grayson. Please.”

“All right and I’m Quinn. Just …”

“Give it a year.”

I wanted no part of whatever he was selling. “No. I want …”

Standing firm he responded, “I know what you want and in your shoes I would as well. I’d probably say to hell with it all and just do it anyway but I’m … requesting nicely … that you give me some time and let this play out.”

I looked at him and then called myself insane and every kind of fool before putting Vaughn’s carrier in the highchair that had been brought, and helping Easton into the booster chair of the ridiculously swank diner a couple of towns over that Grayson had asked to meet at. The table was already set with food and drinks, and we had that section all to ourselves. We were in public. We were visible. But at the same time, we had some privacy. I’m quite sure he planned it all. But I’ll admit that it did make me feel safer.

“Explain it to me,” I told him picking up my fork and eating the salad on my plate because I was starving and knew the food would just get trashed if I didn’t. “And please don’t give it to me in legaleeze that requires a doctorate of law to understand. I’m not asking for family secrets so don’t look so sour, but if you want me to deal with this drama for another year you need to give me something.”

“You know.”

“Know what?”

He glanced at the boys then looked uncomfortable before saying, “Who my birth father is.”

“Actually I have no clue.” He froze like he hadn’t expected my answer. “Yes, I’ve been told there is an assumption you are a Clayton relation. I’ve been told that he is probably from a particular generation. Beyond that? Nope. And beyond my nope is it is none of my business and I don’t want people to make it my business. So please get on with the explaining.”

Instead of doing so he looked at me and then said, “You’re like your father.”

“So?”

“So, it means that maybe this … won’t be the irritation I thought it was going to be.”

I warned the man sitting across from me, “Not getting warm and fuzzy feelings Grayson.”

He chuckled sardonically. Then getting serious again he asked, “How plainly can we speak?”

I pulled out the sound canceling headphones I kept in the diaper bag that had become my constant companion since Rachel passed. I looked at Easton and asked, “Do we still have a deal?”

He grinned the first real grin in days and said, “Yes ma’am.”

I handed them over and a tablet of educational apps as Grayson surprised me by asking, “What’s the deal?”

Easton answered, “I have to eat all my veggies without complaining for a whole week.”

“Tall order if you can do it. What do you get in return?”

“I don’t have to listen to stuff about stuff.”

Luckily Carver seemed to understand. “Well just to let you know, I don’t want to upset your Aunt Quinn with stuff, but it is important and not age-appropriate.”

“You won’t make her cry or hurt her like Uncle Nate?”

“Easton, put the headphone on please,” I told my nephew realizing he may have understood more than intended when my brother and I were talking.

The sudden blank look finally left Carver’s face and he said, “Definitely not. I don’t work that way. Your aunt is a lady.”

“Good,” the boy said before doing as I’d asked him to. Vaughn had fallen asleep in the carrier that was held by the highchair.

“Quinn?”

“It’s over. It’s done. Let’s …”

“This changes things.”

“Excuse me?”

“You have reason to not do this beyond simply not wanting what you are calling the drama.”

“I do. That doesn’t mean I can’t come to understand your side and give it some consideration.”

“Are you … able to … er …”

Grayson was a man who was uncomfortable with being surprised and insecure of his position. I decided to put him out of his misery. “I’m not going to talk about it. Not because of who you are. Not because I think you are working for or with Nate’s immediate family. It is simply over and I’m choosing to move on.”

“It isn’t healthy to let things like that get bottled up.”

It was time to get brutal. I didn’t need nor want his unsolicited advice whether it is true or well-meaning. “This has been an ongoing situation for a long time. I was barely nineteen when we got married. Before I was twenty I’d been to the emergency room three times with ‘accidents.’ The cops in Louisville were starting to get suspicious so we moved back home and he was just … more careful after that. I didn’t realize it was because he had other interests that kept him in a better mood. I left the house six months ago, when it all came out in family court and I couldn’t … pretend anymore. And even then it wasn’t by choice. Nate threw me out. Tried to claim that I’d had an affair with Stevenson because of the feud that started even before their father passed. He then said he’d had the affair in retribution.”

“That doesn’t even come close to fitting the timeline. Not even by twisting it like a pretzel. Stevenson has … had …. ten years on you for one, and you would have had to be a minor when it happened and I know for a fact Stevenson was living in Hawaii back then with his first wife.”

“No. It doesn’t fit. That never stopped Nate thought,” I said without adding anything else.

“So you’ve already gotten counseling?” he persisted in some concern.

“It was my brother’s stipulation. Not go back, and get counseling or he would tell Dad and the Sheriff. Now please, drop it.”

It was going against the grain, I could see it on his face, but what was he going to do? The parties involved were all dead and he needed me … for something.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Four​

I hugged Aunt Nanny and whispered that I’d talk to her as soon as I put the boys to bed. I came down to find a plate of cookies and a tall glass of milk waiting on me. It made me smile.

“How ya doing Honey?”

Trying to answer her honestly I said, “I’m able to pass a sobriety test if I get pulled over.”

“That good huh?”

“Charisse is a hot mess with a hotter temper, but it was probably Brianna that called and said they’d seen me driving erratically. She’s passive aggressive and getting worse every day. More than likely It was Grayson not recognizing her and then ignoring her outside his lawyer’s office.”

“Was she supposed to be there?”

“No. Grayson …” I gave a mild shudder at the remembered look on his face. “They better back off and not push Grayson too far. He’s not a man that will take pushing for long if at all.”

“And you sure you can trust him? He may be a Carver on one side, but he sounds like a Clayton through and through.”

I looked at her. “So, the rumors I’ve heard are true?”

“More ‘n like. His mother was a sweet girl but a little stupid too.”

“Stupid or naïve?” I asked the woman who could be every bit as plain spoken as my father – a trait that runs in the family – but somewhat harsher as well.

“Good bit of both. She and your mother got on, but they weren’t especially close despite the family connection. Ann was always boy crazy, and wanted to believe everything she was told. Always lookin’ for Prince Charming. What I can tell you with some certainty is that it wasn’t Nate’s father. He never did have eyes for anyone but that crazy girl he married. And despite her being crazy she never had eyes for anyone but him. Obsessive but real. Coulda been Damien – why they’d name a boy that I don’t know – but don’t think so ‘cause he was as infatuated with the sister he chose as his brother was with the one he married. More than likely it was either Russell or the twins. And from the look on your face you have no clue who I’m talkin’ about.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m hearing lots of things that I’ve never heard before, what’s a few more nuts on the family tree?”

She cackled quietly. “Russell was Bertie and Damien’s brother. He was the middle brother and about as wild as they came. Heard his father call him a throwback to the Claytons of the old days. Wasn’t a compliment while it was being said either. Didn’t surprise a single person when the boy wrapped that noisy Mustang of his around the oak in the old town square. Killed hisself, the two girls in the car with him, just about killed one of his cousins, and the oak got took down later in the year ‘cause no one could seem to get his blood off the knothole he hit after going through the windshield. It’d stained that tree as sure as the other stuff he got up to stained his soul.”

Aunt Nanny could be melodramatic on occasion.

“Now the twins, they were cousins of the others, but they were all raised together. And if Russell was wild, those two limbs of Satan were just plain awful and one of ‘em was purely evil. Adam and Aaron. Their parents were good people … or as good as a Clayton back then could be … and were on some kind of church mission when their plane went down in the Appalachians. Gave them boys good, Christian names. Consecrated them in the church. Surprised the christening bowl didn’t crack that day I tell you. The church bell sure had some kinda fit.”

“Aunt Nanny.”

“Honey if I’m lyin’ I’m dyin’. ‘Course at my age it could be true either way,” she said with a cackle of humor only the elderly appreciates. “Believe me or not, them boys were bad from birth. They were mean boys and mean young men, up to no good most of the time.” Then she got a thoughtful look and said, “At least they were until Adam nearly got hisself killed in the mustang. He was in a coma nearly six months. Finally woke up and … heard stories.”

“Really.”

“Don’t sass me girl. I’m tellin’ you I heard stories. Supposedly Adam came back around … changed. Claimed to have been to hell. More ‘n once just so the lesson would stick. That he had his face rubbed in all the stuff him and his brother had done.” She shook her head. “Wound up in a sanitarium. Don’t know what happened to him but he never come back here. Aaron went on about his business for a while just as bad as always but like half his soul was gone. Then he left for California I heard before dying of one of the covids. And if you think the stories about Adam are unbelievable, you ask the Sexton about all the hijinks that happened when they brought Aaron home to be buried in the family crypt.”

“Oh Aunt Nanny. Really.”

“Honey, I’m tellin’ you we at the church was all relieved when things settled down with the Clayton family. That all the bad ‘uns had finally died or gone off to be bad someplace else. I ain’t saying the ones that were left were angels, but they weren’t evil like the others. Or so it was thought then. Now? Nate is making us all rethink a few things.”

“Please don’t.”

She patted my hand and didn’t go down that path but continued on with more revelations of a different type. “Whether we wanted to admit it or not, most of us were in hock to them Claytons via the back porch of the Manor and we were worried what would happen were things to fall apart. The bank rarely lent to us on the poor side of the county. The Claytons were a lender of last resort. Oh, it was all legal. No one got blackmailed into it. But outsiders might have considered it predatory. About like what used to happen at the coal mines … owing your soul to the company store. What your daddy was athinkin’ to let you get involved with them people I just don’t know.”

“Nate … in the beginning he wasn’t like he turned out to be. He was like his father, or I thought he was, and you know Dad got on well with Mr. Clayton Sr., thought well of him as he was good to those that worked for him at the warehouse. And he never said a word in my hearing or Dad’s about us not being from the same social set.”

“Hmph. Bertie Clayton was more like Elder Clayton but her weren’t above using that money of his to make more at the expense of others. Is that what happened to Nate? He turned to greed?”

“I don’t know when the changes started but I can at least say that I never did know about all the other women. I know people think I’m lying or was stupid, but I never got a hint of it. I think more because he didn’t want it to get back to his family than … than what it did to me.”

“I’m sorry I brought it up,” she said sorrowfully.

I shrugged. “You’re the only one that hasn’t demanded facts and a little blood to go with them.” I figured she deserved my honesty as she’d given me hers. “Maddie got pregnant the summer I went to that residential camp right before Nate’s senior year. Dad wanted me gone while he dealt with some of the mess that happened after mom passed from that blood clot caused by the sepsis.” It had been a difficult time and I’d been too young to handle things. “Nate and I had broken up for a couple of months for some stupid reason. I think his friends were causing problems or we just needed a break or something like that. It seems a million years ago and nothing but kid stuff.” I wasn’t going to admit to her how fast the changes started happening, but she looked at me like she suspected. I also told myself I needed to break out of the bad habit of making excuses. The counselor said the habit wasn’t created overnight so it would take some time to stop. It was taking more effort than it should have given what has happened but … such is life. You fall off the wagon and healing isn’t a straight line.

Quietly Aunt Nanny brought me back on topic by saying, “The Clayton family always did have a lot of people in it like that. They’s fine as children but let ‘em get some age up on ‘em and … they change. Everyone thought Nate was one of the good Claytons but something sure was outta whack with him. You okay Honey? You look like you’re grievin’.”

“I’m grieving but … I think it is more my own choices than Nate. And I miss Dad.”

“That autopsy doctor said your daddy never felt a thing, and didn’t see it comin’ either as … well, no need to get graphic. You should take comfort from it if you can. The cancer was starting to eat him alive child. If anything good come of this, at least he didn’t have to go through the hell that was comin’ his way.”

I didn’t want to snap at her as she didn’t deserve it, but I don’t think I’ll ever be grateful I lost what time I could have had with my father.

“I know. The Lord works in mysterious ways.” I hadn’t meant to say that, at least not in that way and I sighed.

“Your tone tells me it is time to change the subject. Before I do though, you sure now?”

Trying to get a better grip on my attitude I answered, “About helping Grayson Carver? Yes. I’m probably certifiable but after what I heard, I feel I have to at least give him a chance to find out if he was swindled out of his inheritance. He says there is documentation and that if Nate’s father didn’t know it, Mr. Damien certainly must have. Stevenson indicated in his will that he’d seen some documentation to that effect and was working to find a way to right things but that it was getting complicated and weird whatever that means. Grayson is going in under the guise of helping to organize all the family papers and is hoping to find something that tells his true heritage even if not an inheritance … which he all but admitted he doesn’t need. What Grayson doesn’t know is I have boxes and crates of stuff that I need to go through as well. Lord, I have no idea where it all came from and why Nate had it hidden and stored away the way he did. If I find anything that helps Grayson I’ll turn it over but until then … better just to keep quiet about all of the hoarded documents and … things … I found in Nate’s storage bays and lockers.”

“You could bring it here.”

“No. I don’t want to involve you or any of the rest of the family in it.” She rolled her eyes and huffed. “Aunt Nanny, lets be honest. Frank …”

Immediately angry Aunt Nanny snapped, “If that boy ‘reminds’ me one more time I only have a life estate on this house I’m gonna knock him into next Tuesday with my broom. I’m a getting’ tired of him waiting on me to die so he can take the rest of the farm over. He’s already kicked me out of all but a small kitchen garden for heaven’s sake. I barely have the use of but a few of the trees and most a’ them are on their last leg … about like me a s’pose. Boy ain’t leavin’ me hardly anything to work with a tall. Well at least I can invite you into what is still my home. You … you aren’t going to let him run you off are you?”

I picked up my dishes and took them to the sink to wash, dropping a kiss on her cheek as I went by. “He and I have come to an understanding. So long as his sons, Frankie and Rickie, mind their P’s and Q’s there won’t be a problem.” What I didn’t tell her is that I’d also threatened to report him to senior services and legal aide for what Daddy had discovered was going on. Frank – my father’s cousin – claims he wasn’t aware of what his sons had been doing. The intimidation and financial bullying are at the top of that list. We carried on talking until the old woman started getting a little confused and then tired … or maybe it was tired and then confused. It wasn’t just the house, her things, and the garden that Aunt Nanny needed help with lately. She toddled off to bed and after I checked on the boys I stopped by her bedroom to brush and braid her hair for the night. Her arthritis was paining her.

Finally it was my turn to get ready for bed and it took everything I had not to fall on the bed and howl. I missed my brother. I missed Dad. I even miss the pretense of the marriage I was in. So many things had already been in motion when Nate threw me out of the house, but they would have come at me one at a time, not everything at once. The Good Book tells us that all things are possible with our Creator. What I’d like to know is what did I do that was so wrong, why is life so massively unfair, that I find myself this deep in need of the Creator’s protection?

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Five​

“Easton, stay in the play area please. It’s the only room I’m not worried something is going to fall on you and Vaughn” I said right as I heard something give way and then a crash.

“Timber!!!”

“Oh no, not again,” I said wiggling my way to what should have been the kitchen. I ground my teeth in frustration. If Nate was going to hoard all these old files and documents like they were valuable, why did he have to store them in irritatingly cheap cardboard file boxes?

“Ok Champ, stay up in the loft please. Is the gate up?”

“Yes ma’am but Vaughnie went back to sleep in the play pen. Can I play with my cars now?”

“Keep track of them,” I said agreeing. “If one or more of them gets lost in this mess we’ll never find it and you’ll be sad.”

“I’ll keep them on the map rug,” he said before starting one of his favorite games. I worry about him not having many kids his own age to play with but now we’ve started going to Aunt Nanny’s church some of that is changing. He loved Vacation Bible School and I managed to get a few necessary things accomplished during that week. I managed to get some stuff done here because Frank’s sister revealed a jealous streak and nearly fought me over the fact that she wanted to take Aunt Nanny to her doctor appointments in town.

“Geez Celia, all you needed to do was tell me. I don’t want to cut Aunt Nanny off and didn’t realize you two had always made a girls day out of it. Give me a heads up next time so I don’t interfere.”

She stopped and her glare turned to puzzlement. “You don’t care?”

“I don’t know if I’d phrase it that way. I’m grateful to Aunt Nanny and we all love her to pieces. Dad was real upset that things had … er … slipped through the cracks but he never had a bad word to say about you and I hope you know that. If there are other people in the family that want to show they love her too I can’t say that is a bad thing.”

She sniffed in irritation. “I shoulda known that Frank wouldn’t get this straight. He says you are running Aunt Nanny’s life now.”

“I’m helping Aunt Nanny to run her own life. Frank just isn’t happy that that no longer includes letting his sons … overstep their bounds.”

“Your daddy said something similar at one point. None of us wanted to believe it.” She shrugged, and the situation in her mind simply no longer existed. “So I’ll pick her up tomorrow morning and take her to breakfast, she’ll stay the night with me, and then she can go home with you after church the next day.”

“Sure, if you think that’s what is best. Since Aunt Nanny obviously won’t need me tomorrow I have some stuff to do.”

“Your mother-in-law still causing problems?”

Refusing to hide from the truth I said, “I’m hoping she is otherwise occupied taking care of her mess on her end. I didn’t know Nate took care of her finances since his father died and that she’s as clueless as they are saying. Grayson Carver has stepped in and is trying to help but…” I shrugged. “It isn’t any of my business these days and I’m trying really hard to keep it that way. I didn’t press charges that day and though the prosecutor tried to pressure me some afterwards, I still won’t. I think the problem is that And Aunt Nanny heard that Charisse is in a lot more legal trouble than came out in the beginning. Both she and Brianna have been caught in some lies that turned over some rocks. They’re just trying to hide behind a scapegoat … me … which is just one more reason I’m going to fight to stay out of it.”

“That’s a Clayton for you and those girls got double doses of it ‘cause their momma’s people – and their momma herself – were all crazy as bed bugs.” She rolled her eyes. “I hear you are back to using Claxton. Good for you. And you went back to work too.”

“I’m doing some transcribing work so I can stay home with the boys. Easton is a year behind between one thing and another and Vaughn is too little no matter what the nursery schools claim. And you can tell Frank that I’m helping Aunt Nanny, not expecting her to pay my bills and living expenses.”

“Relax. I get it and even if I didn’t Starla will give anyone an ear full. But if you can, try and not encourage that daughter of mine to turn into a man-hater. The two of you might have reason, but that road only leads to more heartache, not less. Dorsey isn’t paying child support, he got laid off again, and she is only moving home long enough to save up to take him to court this time. Her Daddy wants to move our old trailer on our side lot and get her to go back to school before the boys all get any older. She’d love to, and admits it, but she’s so ashamed at how her marriage has gone that she’s determined to do everything herself and show the world. Problem is when you have three babies under five years of age that’s not real possible and I’m worried she’ll settle rather than accept the little bit of help her daddy and I can offer.”

I nodded and kept my mouth closed. I don’t have any room to talk. I gave up college to marry Nate and I’m trying to figure out whether going back to school is what I should do myself. I’m not even sure I want to be a teacher anymore, not with the feds taking over everything and turning it into a civil service job. With the money Nate left me … well not left me but left behind … I don’t really have to work full time anymore. The interest on the various accounts added up is more than I would make in a full-time position, at least one I could get in town. People assume that the money they see me spend is social security … widow’s benefits or the boys’ from Montgomery’s SS. I let them think what they want and just keep counting the outgoing pennies that I squeeze ‘til they cry. I’m no miser but I’ve learned you never know what is going to hit you tomorrow, so you need to stack the bricks in the wall you hide behind today.

What I was able to do was help the church get a new bus, some safer cribs in the nursery, fix the wood rot in the belfry so the bells could be re-installed and rung on Sundays, and get a sound system so the older, hard-of-hearing church members can Bluetooth their hearing aids and actually hear the sermons. No one knows it was me of course. The rumor is that Mr. Schokley left a bequest before leaving town. Let him have the credit. Poor man. His health has gone downhill fast. Another one of those bits of gossip that everyone seems to know but know one know who knew first or how.

# # # # #​

I heard a car door close and it woke me from the near doze of trying to re-file yet another box of nonsense into something approaching reasonable form. New file folders labeled better being merely one part of the process.

“Quinn?”

Oh Lord, what is he doing here of all places.

I looked up to find Easton looking over the railing and I give him the quiet sign before going out to the porch.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Six (part 1)​

“Grayson.”

“Yes. I’m a pain in the ass. Thanks for at least pretending you don’t want to tell me to go to hell and leave you alone.”

Grayson was blunt but rarely as blunt as he was being at the moment.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” I asked him in surprise.

“I’m being pulled six different ways and it is getting in the way of what I’m here to do.”

“If you expect me to just stand here and let you growl at me, at least give me something to work with.”

He asked, “May I sit on the porch?”

“Only if you want to fall through the seats of these chairs. They aren’t meant for a man your size.” I took a moment and then just shrugged. “There’s a chair inside that shouldn’t give way though it might creek a bit in complaint, but the AC is working.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” he said a little quizzically, trying not to show he was surprised.

He stepped on the threshold and made a hard stop before muttering something in a language I didn’t recognize but I could tell it wasn’t complimentary.

“Before you can form a question you might as well sit down and I’ll pour you some ice water. It’s all I can offer this time.”

“This time?” he asked, even more confused.

“Easton? Stay up in the loft please.”

“Do I have to hear stuff about stuff?”

“Not so long as you aren’t being nosey,” I told him grinning at the face he was giving me.

I nearly chuckled at the relief on his face. Turning back to Grayson I saw he still hadn’t managed to wipe the surprise off his face. “Welcome to the Bat Cave.”

“The what?”

“It is what I privately called this place after Mr. Clayton gifted us with it for moving back from Louisville. I never did more than see the outside of the place from the lake a few times. This was Nate’s … getaway. The first time I was here was the day after … after he died. I unlocked the door, took one look, and turned around and didn’t come back until I needed a place to store all the other miscellaneous things that I’ve been finding.”

“I’ll ask you to explain that statement in a minute. First, what in God’s name is all of this?”

“I don’t know what all of it is, I’m still digging through the boxes, trying to organize it all. However, I have my suspicions.”

“And that is?”

“Some of it is proof that the Clayton Family were reprobates and scoundrels … and that is putting it mildly … some generations ago. Some of it is records of what my aunt calls the old backporch banking the family dealt in. That box to your right holds a lot of antique documents that will fill in the gaps of the family tree that hangs in the Manor House library but nothing from your generation yet.”

Suspiciously he asked, “Where did you say all of this came from?”

“Most of it was here, probably put here by Nate sometime after he threw me out of the house because from Maddie’s description in court of her trysts here over the years, the place was a little run down but certainly didn’t look like the school district’s permanent record storage warehouse. Where it came from before that? Probably in the Manor House in some hidey hole where the family kept contraband.”

“Where they … ?!”

“That box on your left has the original floor plans and architectural drawings for the Manor House. Feel free to take that when you go, I need the floor space.”

He blinked and then asked, “And what do you plan to do with the remainder of these boxes?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“If I find anything to help your case, I will turn it over to you. If find another box of vintage … collectible men’s magazines such as I have found a few more than I needed to … they will go in the burn pile with photos that Nate has held onto over the years.”

“Photos. Anyone I know?”

“Have no clue. I on the other hand know every one of them and the amount of eye bleach I would need to forget that doesn’t exist.”

When I turned away to collect myself I heard him come up behind me. “Quinn?”

“Sorry, you’ve caught me on a bad day. I came up on another ‘collection’ today. I also got a notification that a storage company in Becker says to either come empty a locker there or it will be auctioned off.”

“How long do you have?”

“Until Tuesday. And it is a ten x thirty, and I have no idea what I am going to find there or how to move it. None of the others were anywhere near that size. I have no idea where I am going to put whatever it is. I’ve run out of room here except for the basement and I haven’t moved anything down there yet because I had to clean it up first.” I shuddered. “I admit that I started off country and that nothing much phases me, but it was disgusting down there. There was a freezer … no, just use your imagination and then double it.”

“Do you have any of this in any type of order?”

I wanted to ask if he thought I was playing with the boxes rather than working. He must have sensed it however and scrubbed he face and chuckled. “Pardon Quinn, I’ve had a aggravating day as well.”

“You never said. Was there a particular reason you came looking for me?”

“I wasn’t looking for you exactly, but for this place. About two years after Uncle Bert bought it and gifted it to you, the books make it look like he took in collateral for a loan. But there is no record of repayment of the loan.”

Frustration at the latest puzzle I told Grayson, “I have a county stamped clear title to this place. Gimme a sec and I’ll check the date. If it looks like shenanigans, if you’ll give me time to move all of this …”

“You don’t keep that type of document here?!”

“Of course not,” I told him. “Just because it doesn’t seem like I had any sense before doesn’t mean I haven’t got any now. I keep the originals of those types of records in a safety deposit box. Certified copies are kept in various other locations, none of those locations being here.”

He calmed down. “Again, pardon me.”

“You’ve had an aggravating day. I assume you’ll explain at some point.”

He snorted and sat back down, pulling the box I asked him to take over so he could prop a foot up on it. “Is Brianna brain damaged?”

Handing him a glass of cold water I answered, “She can occasionally act like a barely functioning sociopath, and can be passive aggressive as heck but I don’t think it is from being brain damaged. She just has her mother’s personality with a side order of her Clayton genetics thrown in. She and Charisse are the first girls born into the Clayton family in several generations that survived beyond childhood.”

“This box of documents tell you that?”

“No. Nate used to rub it in and tell them the same thing should have happened to them.”

“My impression is that the girls adored Nate. Worshipped him.”

“Most of the time. They didn’t dare do otherwise or their mother could be … creative.”

“The more I find out, the less sorry I think I’ll be if …”

“Should have thought of that before opening Pandora’s Box.”

“Gee. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Want some help,” he asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Taking the boxes downstairs so you’ll have more room up here.”

“What’s the point? You said that …”

“I’ll lose the papers for a while. Let’s just clear things up before you sell the place.”

“Why do you think my plan is sell it?”

“It isn’t?”

“I was thinking of renting it out during tourist season. It’ll provide income for part of the year and if rental rates keep going up, I’ll be able to stay home with the boys until they are a little older.”

“You can do that?”

“Which that?”

“Rent this place out. Be emotionally detached from it.”

“Yes. Trust me, burning it down was my first inclination but I’d rather have the income.” He looked at me speculatively. “Yes, I know it sounds mercenary.”

“Actually it sounds like the kind of commonsense and forethought the girls and their mother lack. They emote enough to create pollution.”

“That’s Charisse’s schtick. Why were you asking about Brianna?”

“A bookcase nearly fell on me this morning. The security cameras show that Brianna went into the office and looked at that bookcase and moved a few thing around but nothing else and I still haven’t found what caused the damn thing to tip.”

“She probably uncovered a priest hole and waited until you were in front of it and pushed from the other side.”

“Priest hole?!”

“Aunt Quinn?”

Grayson caught me off guard by saying, “Sorry about that Easton. I’m not big on surprises but having a bad day is no excuse.”

“Oh. Then you might want to go outside and surprise the police man first. He’s looking at your car funny.”

“Stay here,” Grayson ordered me, revealing a facet of his personality that fit better with his other career than it did with the suit and tie he was currently sweating in.

Cautiously he checked the windows that faced the circular drive before stepping out the side door and asking the “police man” what he was doing to his car.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Six (part 2)


“Checking your tag. It’s almost out of date.”

“Almost out of date is not out of date.”

“No Sir but almost IS almost. I need your name and ID.”

“For what purpose?

I stepped out the door and said, “Delmar are you still sleeping with Brianna or is she blackmailing you over it?”

The man jumped and looked at me with blood in his eye.

“Uh uh. You don’t want to say whatever it is you are thinking. This is Grayson Carver, and you should have heard the name even if you don’t recognize his face. It appears that Brianna is trying to throw you under the bus. Smarten up and don’t play their games. Learn from my mistakes, don’t repeat them.”

He slowly deflated. “She’s threatening to tell my father.”

His father was the Sheriff so it wasn’t an idle threat, and one that could have a lot of repercussions. The answer to the threat was a simple one, but would take courage. “So cut her off at the knees and be the one to tell him first. If he asks why you came up here first tell him you were warning Mr. Carver a scheme might be afoot and to watch his back.”

“He’ll take me off any case that might have anything to do with the Claytons.”

“Good. This way you can’t be the next victim. I heard you got accepted to the academy, it is just a matter of coming up with the tuition. What if I told you I might be able to come up with proof your grandfather overpaid on his second mortgage? Could have been something as simple as a couple of numbers being transposed on those old handwritten ledgers.”

“Why would you do that?” her asked suspiciously.

“Let’s just say, it is something that I can do.” He started to say something else, but I shushed him. “Talk to your dad about it. Come clean. Sometimes that is the only way to get the monkey off your back. As for anything else? Not all the Claytons were or are all bad, any more than any of the rest of us are all angels. But sometimes reparations are necessary. The stuff that happened generations ago, the injustices, are already being answered for on people’s Judgment Days. The things that are going on today? Money won’t fix that. But … becoming a dedicated and honest investigator? One that helps people and keeps themselves in a position so they can’t be screwed or blackmailed? That’s more valuable than any amount of money.”

He sighed. “Dad’s gonna kill me … but I’ll do it. Can you keep Brianna occupied until I can make sure my screw up can’t hurt him?”

A voice from the end of the drive said, “Don’t you worry about that. If I’m not flame resistant after over thirty years in law enforcement, I haven’t been doing my job.”

“Dad!” He cleared his throat. “We need to talk.”

“I already know about the Clayton girl. I’ve known … for a while. She’s not nearly as much of a ding bat as she used to act, but she’s not nearly as smart as she thinks she is either.”

“What?!”

“Let’s just say the other sister has a mouth that runs away from her and she doesn’t always realize what she is giving away.” He turned and looked at me with steel in his eye. “That story you told about my father’s mortgage true?”

“Again, let’s just say that I’ve seen a limited few mathematical errors in the books I’ve seen. Mr. Grayson has been asking me about some irregularities as well. They aren’t huge, a penny here and there, but interest adds up even on pennies … and it won’t hurt anything to try and help people. There are no strings … just a little knowledge that wrongs, no matter how unintended, can be balanced out. We can put it in writing at Mr. Reedmire’s office or someone of your choosing. But …”

“But?”

“I’d like to keep these kinds of things quiet if possible. The well isn’t bottomless and not everyone is going to accept that fact.”

“Truth be told wouldn’t want it to get out myself. You write out that paper, sign it, we’ll keep the lawyers out and say that’s enough and there won’t be more … visiting the well.”

# # # # #​

I nodded my agreement. Delmar and his father got into his cruiser and left, making me assume the sheriff had stashed his car down the road a piece and walked in. I turned to find Grayson staring at me.

“You disagree?”

“I don’t have all the facts.”

I shrugged at his none answer and went back into the cabin with him following me. I started to pick up a box to move it downstairs and he stopped me. “You can’t leave this stuff here now. Not if Brianna knows about the place.”

“She’s known about it for years. She made enough of a fuss about it that she managed to irritate her father and he normally just ignored it the way he ignored Charisse’s rants and their mother’s drama. Besides, what choice do I have?” I snapped, my exhaustion making my mouth looser than it should have been.

“I can have a crew here in an hour. Stop and let me finish,” he said forestalling the comment that I was about to make. “Neither one of us knows what all of this is at the moment. It could be nothing but coal with just a few diamonds mixed in. I say those diamonds are worth the effort of mining them. The place I’m thinking about is at the old Honey Branch Mine and …”

“The Honey Branch Mine?! That’s … that’s practically within walking distance of the backside of the Clayton Estate. Are you trying to get me thrown in jail?!” I hissed.

“Just the opposite. Sheriff Morley was a friend of your father and a fair man. Sheriff of the county most of the lake is in …”

“Stubblefield. Kent Stubblefield.”

“Know him?”

“His daughter and Nate were … friends in college. I don’t think Sheriff Stubblefield’s wife ever got over Nate marrying me instead of her daughter. The woman always did have aspirations and the family holds on to grudges over imagined insults for generations.”

Grayson snorted in contempt. “As we used to say as kids, ‘Whatever.’ Thank gawd I grew up outside of this.”

“You didn’t. I remember you even when I was in grade school, you just always ran with the older kids.”

“But I was never one of them. They had to include me because of my foster parents … Kent and Geri Carver, no relation despite the name … but they never let me forget I was just a poor bastard kid that no one was willing to claim.”

“I’m going to kick myself but … just tell me about ‘this place’ you say you know.”

He chuckled ruefully. “I forget you don’t give a crap about what you call the drama.”

I sighed. “Let me rephrase that. I care about a few small bits of it. But I will not get sucked back into the vortex where there is nothing but the drama in my life. I can’t afford to. I have the boys to think of, my elderly aunt who needs me for now, and my duty to build some kind of life that doesn’t revolve around … what it’s been revolving around for the last six years and more.. Fine, you want to hear the truth? Here it is. Nate destroyed pieces of me that I still don’t know how or if will ever heal. But he was only able to destroy them because … because I stopped fighting and gave up my will to his. I could have left him. I should have left him before our first anniversary. I didn’t. I’m learning to live with that guilt, but it might always be a part of my reality, just like the scars are. I don’t want to have anything to do with the Claytons. And yet here I am helping you … you who claim to at least think you are a Clayton by birth. It is a fine line I walk Grayson … and I’m walking it for you and against my desire to have nothing to do with my former in-laws. Just accept that and Move. On. I am and will continue to help you, I gave my word I will, but a bit of my psyche shrivels up at the emotional maelstrom I sense is still out there waiting on me.”

Quietly he explained, “I own the Honey Branch Mine and the land it sits on. My foster father left it to me when he passed.”

“That mine was played out and boarded over before my father was born.”

He nodded. “He left my foster brother, the son he and his second wife had by in vitro, shares in a diamond mine in Colorado and a gold mine in Nevada. He also left him a large estate in West Palm Beach, FL and a penthouse apartment in New York City.”

“So this really is about the money to you.”

“No. And here is the rest of the story. My foster brother was an idiot. He died of alcohol poisoning during a frat party and no one realized it or missed him for nearly a week. They found him in the bushes behind the frat house only because his corpse started to stink. The way Father wrote his will was that I was the secondary heir … his spare, only useful as a threat to his ‘real son’ when he was behaving in a disappointing fashion. The only part of the estate that Jubal’s mother received was what was arranged in the pre-nup. She promptly had what amounts to a stroke when the lawyers gave her the news. The stroke affected her looks and speech and no amount of therapy or plastic surgery will ever fix that. That resulted in a nervous breakdown that she has never recovered from. When she tried to commit suicide the second time her doctors recommended a private care facility in upstate New York with lots of medication and there she remains … with me paying to make sure her care is better than just good. See, the diamond mine was subeconomic and closed the year after Father died and the gold mine was nationalized long enough that it collapsed and is no longer feasibly mineable. I sold the penthouse and put the money in a trust to take care of Jubal’s mother for the rest of her life. I still have the property in West Palm Beach because it is convenient for some of my other ventures.” He lost the singsong quality in his voice, and it hardened. “I don’t need the damn Clayton money. I am just tired of never being good enough to claim. And I want to know what the full story is and why.”

I sighed. “I apologize. You’d think I’d have learned by now. No matter their intention, the Claytons leave a mess behind wherever they go. Even the best of them seem to have ulterior motives for everything, even if it is only that they think they know what is best for people. Just explain about the place.”

With more grace than I probably deserved, he did. “The mine is very dry. Any water that it once held drained away over fifty years ago. I’ve converted the mine to storage. It is mostly document storage however there are special sections that house … other things. Everything is climate controlled. The locals are used to seeing trucks entering and leaving the facility.”

“They might come to recognize my car.”

“They won’t see your car.” I gave him a suspicious look. He gave me a shark’s grin. “It works like this. You drive to meet up place, usually a garage or similar. One of our storage vans pull in as well … and lowers a ramp. You drive your car in and get a nice ride right into the facility with no one the wiser.”

“Assuming I believe that mission impossible nonsense is even possible, who is to say the driver or facility employees won’t talk.”

“One, only my most trusted drivers will be part of this operation. And two, I don’t hire locals except for work out in the front. And no one is going to have a key to the particular room we will be working in except me and thee.”

“That’s a lot of subterfuge for what may turn out to be nothing but … coal.”

“Perhaps. But if it garners even a few diamonds …”

Having some second thoughts I asked, “How do you plan to use any information that is found.”

He shrugged. “It depends on what it is … and how egregious the motivations of those involved.”

My intuition told me, “You already know something or you wouldn’t be as certain as you are.”

“We’ll discuss it after we get this moved. And give me the address of the other storage facility and I’ll have it emptied as well.”

“Grayson …”

“Are you in? Or are you out?”

“Grayson, I have the boys and my family to think about.”

“That isn’t what I asked.”

“Well you aren’t asking a small freaking thing now are you. If this is about nothing but revenge, don’t expect me to fill that second grave you are digging. I have enough poor choices to live with.”

“And if it is about justice?”

“That’s a fine line you’re walking.”

“Yes it is. So sign on and … be my Jiminy Cricket.”

“You’re what?”

“My conscience.”

“As I recall the cricket didn’t fair so well in the original version.”

He gave a sardonic twist of his lips. “You’re tougher. And bigger than a measly cricket.”

“I’ve lost my mind. That’s all I can figure at this point.”

He grinned at what he considered my capitulation.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Seven​

“Where’d that bruise come from?” Aunt Nanny asked sharply.

“A stack of boxes that wanted to fall until I directed otherwise.”

“Hmph. I thought you said the Carver boy was helping.”

“The ‘Carver boy’ stepped on a Claxton boy’s diecast car and nearly went tip over tea kettle and bumped the stack of boxes.”

“Oh dear. Was Easton upset? What am I saying?!” she laughed as I’d meant her to. “Was the Carver boy hurt?”

I chuckled. “Let’s just say there is now webbing that runs around the fence of the play yard that is small enough that little cars can’t slip out. Other than that? Not a word from either of them.”

Aunt Nannie chuckled. She was my secret keeper. Not that she remembered much from one day to the next. She’s slipping. Even the rest of the family has noticed how badly she’s slipping, and they’ve all taken to coming by and “sitting a spell to visit.” Even Frank finally unfroze when he discovered me doing Aunt Nanny’s hair one Sunday morning before church.

“You realize it won’t be long now,” Frank said after one such visit.

“She’s still physically strong. Well, I mean she isn’t as frail as she was.”

“She is. But Mom went … so fast. One day she was gardening and the only thing was her memory. Two weeks later … she was with the angels.”

“I remember. But your mom had early onset Alzheimer’s.”

He nodded. “But Aunt Nanny is over ninety. She could have the sharpest mind and be physically strong, but ninety is what it is. You have my number? In case?”

Sadly I nodded. “She could still live a long time. Her mother did.”

“She could,” he agreed. “But Quinn you need to be prepared. It’s been almost two years since your daddy died. I know you’re still grieving. I know you’re still grieving the rest of that story. I also know you’ve been using Aunt Nanny as a way to get through this time in your life. Monty’s boys as well. But the time is coming and ... you need to be ready for it or you’re gonna fall right back down that dark hole you were in.”

I nodded but couldn’t talk about it any longer. I was here and I was going to do for Aunt Nanny what I hadn’t been given a chance to do for my father.

# # # # #​

“Frank?”

He heard it in my voice. “I’ll be there as quick as I can. Have you called an ambulance?”

“She’s gone Frank. An ambulance isn’t going to fix it. We’d been talking and everything was fine. She was in such a good mood and telling stories so long we both needed something to drink. I went to take her tea out on the porch just like she likes … liked … it. I thought she’d just closed her eyes. The sun was a little bright. But she didn’t answer me. She …”

“We’re already on our way out the door. Can you … sit with her.”

“As long as it takes just … please …”

“Hold on Honey, you won’t be alone much longer.”

“I’m not, but the boys will be up from their nap and … and …”

“We’re already pulling out. Just hang on.”

# # # # #​

“Quinn …”

We were both dressed in somber Sunday best. There were tables of food all over the front lawn, people wandering about, people standing and looking at the picture boards that had been set up. They call this a celebration of life. And it is. But I was still gut sick. As much as I’m grateful that we could do this in memory of Aunt Nanny, it brought back the fact I’d never done this for Montgomery or Dad. I wished for things that simply weren’t possible and might never have been possible.

“Quinn?”

I shook off what felt like selfish grief and addressed the present. “It’s all right Frank. Starla needs a place now that she has finally give in to Dorsey begging her to re-marry him. He’s done running scared of all the responsibility. The marriage counseling the judge ordered helped him, both of them, a lot. Me leaving early despite your offer will give them time to get the place fixed up so they can have the wedding out in the yard as planned and go through the old place without feeling so guilty. I wish people wouldn’t worry so much.”

He sighed. “I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, but I want to say your daddy would be proud of you.”

“Thank you Frank. That means a lot to me.”

“Well this next part might not be so welcome. You need to get out more Quinn. You work in the nursery during church, hide in the kitchen if there is a dinner on the grounds, haven’t done anything but take care of the boys and Aunt Nanny. Even before … well the Clayton mess as I don’t know what else to call it … all you did was take care of first Monty and his boys and then your father when the chemo got to be too much. You’re too young to be settling into the life Aunt Nanny chose for herself after life disappointed her. You need to live a little before it is too late. These boys will be grown before you know it and then what will you do?”

I knew he meant well and tried to take his words that way. “I get out when I can.”

“Working for Grayson Carver is not getting out though he seems to appreciate the fact you’re whipping his office in town into shape.”

It was part statement and part question. I shrugged. “I needed a job. My transcription contract wasn’t renewed.” And I found out why. One of these days Brianna is going to go too far. “As the new head of Clayton Industries he felt …” I stopped and shrugged. “I really don’t know what his reasons are beyond he needed an office manager and I already know most of the ins and outs as well as the local people. I just hope it isn’t foolish of either one of us thinking this will work. Mrs. Clayton really is sick this time, it isn’t hypochondria. And the girls are running scared. I don’t guess they thought this time would come. Or something melodramatic like that.”

He patted my shoulder but was called over by the man from the company that had been hired to evaluate the antiques that were left after various bequeaths. He was a friend of the family which was why he was at the funeral, but I wish for once Frank could have put all that to the side. It seems so mercenary but then again everything seems that way right now, including me.

I looked over at my car’s trunk and saw the old hat boxes that held pictures and a few knick knacks that I was surprised to receive. I’d already moved mine and the boy’s personal belongings to the little one-bedroom apartment upstairs of the office front. The boys had a bunk bed … Easton on top and Vaugn on the bottom with bed rails … in the bedroom and I will sleep on a Murphy Bed in the front room that doubles as everything else.

Yes, it is a bit of a scandal and I’m sure people are going to talk, but that’s the way it is in small towns where everyone knows too much about everyone else’s business.

It’s not like I’m dead. I’d have to be not to notice that Grayson is a nice-looking man even if he does have a few years on me. But I’d have to be dead and blind not to see all the women vying for his attention and the few that actually make the cut and get taken on a date. I’d have to be dead, blind, and stupid if I let some of the thoughts I’ve thunk actually turn into more than the rare, pitiful daydream. Especially now that he’s taking the spot his grandfather and uncles kept from him.

Adam Clayton, the elder twin, was his father. Grayson his only child as the drugs he was forced to take for years, caused him to be infertile. Ann, Grayson’s mother, had been convinced to remain silent on the paternity issue, paid to stay silent, or risk Grayson being taken away from her by whatever means necessary. Still wound up that way, just for a different reason.

What Grayson eventually revealed to me was that when he was in college Adam, who’d been released from the sanitarium years before and escaped his family’s control by changing his name and becoming a contractor overseas, managed to find him and tell him he thought he was his son. That he wanted a blood test to prove it. Unfortunately he died of some tropical disease before the blood test happened. Adam had named Grayson his heir, and it was that money he used to start his own consulting business. Adam’s friends liked the young Grayson enough that they trained him and put him in contact with people willing to take a risk on him. Turns out Adam was quite good at … what he did. And Grayson was, and is, even better. He still disappears, sometimes for weeks at a time, but not as often as he used to.

That truth isn’t common knowledge. However the paternity and the codicil to his great grandfather’s will that named Grayson as first in line, contingent on a few other things, did have to come out. It was the only legal way to make things happen and Grayson wanted everything legal and above board no matter how hard it was for people to swallow. His great grandfather had claimed him. Maybe only reluctantly but he’d still been claimed and acknowledged.

Some of it would never be made public. Trying to clean up the lines that had been crossed in the past would reopen too many wounds in the present and there simply wasn’t any way to rectify it all. There were a lot fewer Clayton descendants close enough to contest the old will but there were still a few that could try. The lawyers would bleed the family dry just to get a chance at the possibility. I’m willing to keep his secret because of other secrets we discovered while going through all the boxes and safes I had found that first six months. Grayson wasn’t blackmailing me, he was actually protecting me in his own overbearing fashion.

We shredded and destroyed some of the stuff that had been kept by his uncle while some, like the old ledgers and harmless family history documents, were kept, inventoried, had digital copies made, preserved, then stored in their own vault down in the mine.

He insisted I keep some of the flotsam, like pieces of his aunt’s jewelry and some of Nate’s own investment collectibles and those have their boxes in one of the higher security areas that holds other, similar, safety deposit boxes rented by other people that cannot be named.

There’s the antique furniture and large collectibles that belonged to his aunt and uncle down there also, waiting for time to pass so I can get rid of things without suspicion, or as I need the money. For now I don’t. The boys and I live simply enough that everyone assumes it is due to the estates of my brother and father. Mr. Reedmire, contemplating his own imminent retirement and move to Florida, helped me move the bulk of Nate’s estate into new accounts in my name only last year. What he doesn’t know is that I’ve been siphoning off those funds into other places just on the off-chance of … who knows what. I swear Grayson gives me the craziest of ideas on some days. On others he will ask, “Are you in?” And all I can do is roll my eyes and then nod.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Eight​

I turned the key in the lock and opened the door to the tiny apartment. I wanted to stamp my foot in irritation after turning the lights on and putting Vaughn down, but didn’t and I was glad I managed it when Easton said, “Wow. I guess a brownie really does live here like Mr. Jacobs said.”

Vaughn laughed. “Brownie, brownie, brownie. I’m hungry An Kin.”

“When are you not you wiggle worm.” I was going to say something to Easton, but he was standing looking into the room he and his brother were going to share.

I walked over and … could say nothing. The room had been redecorated with cars, planes, and trains. The bunkbeds I’d found at a thrift store had been replaced with a high-end platform bunk set that gave Easton more space and Vaughn a more secure one. There was also a built-in set of drawers for each boy which left space for a new desk and bookshelf where Easton would be able to do his homework. No tv, thank goodness or I really would have clocked the “brownie” in the head but there was a tv in the first room … along with a lot of other new things that had no business being there.

Easton asked, “Are we really gonna live here?”

“For a while.”

“What’s a while?”

“Long enough for the new to wear off and you two to get tired of the three flights of stairs to climb to get here.”

He slowly smiled, still a slightly insecure and quiet child no matter how much I’ve tried to help him be otherwise. “That’s a while.”

“Hmm, for some reason I smell pizza. What do you think?”

“I think Mr. Grayson is a nice man even when he doesn’t want other people to know.”

“Shhh. Don’t tell him yet. Let’s pick a time and reeeaaaalllly embarrass him over it.”

That made Easton laugh. I opened the oven and sure enough there was a boxed pizza from the small place on Main Street. Chic enough for the tourists that still came through but affordable enough for local date-night consumption, even with the economy on ever shakier legs. I opened the wee cabinets to pull out plates and found a manila envelope.

The boys ate their fill and were soon tired from the funeral the day before and getting Easton registered for school today, then running around trying to get his school supplies and uniform so he could start tomorrow with all the other children. He’d be going to the small, private parochial school a couple of blocks away and was excited more than I expected. After school programs include Trail Life USA and American Heritage Girls. Even kids as young as Easton can join the shop and woodworking clubs. PE is a mandatory class every student must take. They say in five more years they’ll be able to add a high school wing to the school. Depending on Easton’s experience I’m thinking to help that happen … anonymously of course. The same as I'd been trying to help other people that Nate and his uncle had taken advantage of.

I’d been planning on spending the evening organizing and putting away our belongings that had been piled all over the place. A “brownie” had already done most of it. There were still some of the most personal in a small pile over in the corner, but I had something else I needed to do first.

“Okay troops, bedtime.”

Vaughn tried to tune up but Easton told him, “Uh uh, I have to go to school tomorrow and if you want to walk there with me you need to sleep so you won’t have the crankies. You are getting too old to be a poot head.”

“Easton.”

“He is Aunt Quinn. I’m the big brother. I’m supposed to ‘splain things like that so he doesn’t get in trouble.”

“Hmmm. Can you explain things without calling him names?”

“I’ll try but it’s not going to be easy.”

Vaughn laughed and I had a feeling Easton was telling a truth that none of us really knew how big.

“Okay, stay in bed and sleep tight. I need to go downstairs and make sure the computers are backing up and the rest of it.”

“Like … like you’d go downstairs at the farm and do chores for Aunt Nanny? You aren’t going outside, just downstairs? And you’ll come back upstairs when it is your bedtime?”

“The same,” I told him. “If it bothers you …”

“No! I mean no ma’am. I was just making sure I understand.”

Despite his anxiety Easton was asleep almost immediately. Vaughn as well. I’m not thrilled with the decision to put Vaughn in the nursery school next door to where Easton is going but I have to work, and Vaughn does much better in groups than he does being taught one on one. I learned that much at church. He needs competition to motivate him, and he already knows his nursery workers as they are members of the church we attend ... and they know him and are proof against his shenanigans. More importantly I know them and their families.

I picked up the envelope and took it down to the second floor and sat on a chair in a vacant office before opening it up. Inside were two rings of keys, a letter, and a phone. How it was already set up to recognize my face and eye print I’m not sure I want to know. There was a text that read, “Call me when you get this.” Then there were multiple incoming calls, each sounding more worried and exasperated than the one before it. I called.

“Are you just now getting in?!”

“No. I had to feed and put the boys to bed. School starts tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? So soon?”

“Grayson, what is it you need?”

“Just wanted to make sure you settled in.”

“And to make sure I wasn’t going to bash you with a fire extinguisher next time I saw you? We did have an agreement did we not?”

“Jacobs told me the apartment was in worse shape than the realtor let on. And all I did was add some stuff for the boys. You would have gotten around to it eventually, I just pushed the timeline up.” Ignoring the rest of it he asked, “Why were you so late?”

“I wasn’t late. And you could have seen me come and go with your super-duper security hooziwhatsits. And don’t tell me you didn’t have any installed. There’s at least one on the third-floor landing so if I’ve found one there are likely others.”

He mumbled something.

“What?”

“I said not so super-duper. The signal is down. I’ll find out the hell why when I get back next week. Dammit, hold on.”

What I heard made me sick.

“I …”

“Shut up you … you … Neanderthal. Is that gunfire I hear?! What are you doing on the phone?! Go take care of your business and stop being distracted!”

There is a horrible crackling noise that nearly made me deaf and after a moment of silence Grayson said, “No need to. Situation addressed. Tell me how your day went. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it back for the funeral but I’m not sure my presence would have been appreciated.”

I wanted to call him all sorts of names, but experience told me it wouldn’t have served any purpose.

“Quinn?”

“I’m here. You might have felt out of place at the funeral, but you would still have been welcomed. The note you sent explaining that you’d arranged for a tree to be planted in Aunt Nanny’s honor in the old town square made an impression. The fact that you had it planted near the place her soldier boy used to court her before he died … it … it means a lot Grayson. To all of us.”

He cleared his throat and said, “Thank you. But how was your day?”

So I explained then asked him what he wanted done first in the office. “Just set it up. Make it not just look real but be real. I’m not sure who or what I’m going to install in there, but Main Street needs some revitalization. For now it is just going to be the front office for the storage facility and some of my personal calls when I’m out of town.”

“Your … personal calls?”

“Yeah. About like that time I … was on crutches for a few weeks.”

“Hmph. Yes. The ‘ski accident.’ Just tell me it isn’t because you plan on getting blown up on a regular basis?”

“Definitely not.” He was silent for a moment then said, “Quinn I need someone that can handle the personal crap for me. Things are heating up again. I need to be able to come and go at a moment’s notice and not return until I get ready to. And I need that someone in town to be someone I can trust. Someone I don’t have to train because I don’t have the time right now. Are you in?”

“I think we’ve both already established that I’ve lost my mind somewhere along the way. Just keep your promise that the boys will always have someone for just in case.”

In concern he asked, “Something going on I should know about? Someone I should know about?”

“No. Or at least nothing different than it has ever been. I just know life can be … difficult. Speaking of, you do know that Mrs. Clayton is getting the news tomorrow.”

“I know what her doctors are going to say. I’ve already spoken with them.” His arrogance still makes me want to gasp for oxygen on occasion, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction. Besides, what he told me was troubling. “It’s confirmed. It’s spread to her lungs. It may have metastasized even further. She needs a full body scan now that the bandages are off. And the genetic screening doesn’t look good for Charisse or Brianna. The doctors are recommending preventative double mastectomies and a lymphadenectomy, then reconstructive surgery for both of them. They both carry the gene as well as multiple risk factors.”

“Oh Lord. I’m … I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” he scoffed.

“Smart aleck. I … really mean it.”

Back to being serious he said, “I know. But you are not to let on that you know, and you are not to offer to help them if they tell you. I need someone to stay above what is coming.”

“What exactly is coming?”

“Chaos at the very least.”

“Don’t go four horsemen of the apocalypse on me.”

“If that happens it won’t be me. You see those keys?”

“And the letter. Which better not be what I think it is. Get finished and come home.”

“Just keep the letter safe. You may not need it, but I’ve become rather fond of your saying.”

“Better safe than sorry?”

“Yes. The keys are where I’ve changed some locks. The larger ring holds new keys for all my ‘front office’ locations there in town and in the Manor House. The small ring is for the new section of the mine I had opened and am renovating. If … if things become untenable for some reason go there. I’ll either be able to get to you … or I won’t. Either way you and the boys will be safe. Just don’t wait too long.”

“Understood,” I told him quietly.

“The phone won’t be worth anything once we hang up. Put it through the shredder. Don’t forget.”

“I won’t. I never have before have I?”

“Like I said, someone I can trust.” I heard someone say something about needing to go and then Grayson started to say something to me.

“Stop. Just do your job. Then get home. Until then .. it will be as it’s always been since the first cardboard box.”

“I wish I had a hundred of you.”

“Bull. Just go … and stay safe.”

When there was nothing but dial tone I took the expensive flat phone and ran it through the shredder reserved for high security electronics and papers. Just to be on the safe side I stirred the resulting electronic confetti with what was already in the waste pail – Jacobs or someone else must have had some burner phones that needed deleting – and then hauled it to the basement and poured it in to the mini-solar incinerator that was what partially heated the building.

I trudged back upstairs wondering what my life would have been like had someone been able to tell the difference between an X and a Y.

 

[moldy]

Yay!! I will take anything you write, at any time. "And I will read them in a box and I will read them with a fox..."

Sorry, its been a day. Thank you, Kathy.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Nine​

A month. He’d come and gone several times, hung around for the holidays, and then taken off two days before New Year and I hadn’t heard from him since. I was getting tired of people asking where Grayson was, when he would be back, had he gotten their messages, etc etc etc. How was I supposed to know? Why on earth do they think I would? I’m just his damn secretary for gawd’s sake.

And why is it when things are on sale, they have every size but the ones you need?

“Quinn? Quinn Claxton? What on earth are you doing here?”

I wanted to growl. This was not a good day and getting caught by that she-devil wasn’t exactly making it any better. I was on my lunch break and had a list as long as my leg to get done.

“As you can see I’m looking for the boys' new winter coats Brianna. What are you doing in the children’s section of the thrift store? I didn’t know you even knew this place existed. Don’t you take your shopping to Louisville and Frankfort because there’s nothing for you around here?”

“My, my aren’t we a testy cat. Need some Midol or has Grayson finally turned you off like you deserve?”

A woman with her said, “Enough Bri. Move. You are not helping.”

With a sour look at her companion she moved but not enough for me to get away. “Where’s Grayson? Have you been giving him my messages?”

“Ms. Deering.”

“I asked you a question.”

“Which I have answered every other time you have asked it while we’ve been in the office. We are not currently in the office.”

At that moment I saw what I’d come for in the right size and grabbed it only to be grabbed first and her nails were digging in hard enough to draw blood.

I turned and looked at the woman and said, “If you don’t think I won’t slap the crap out of you right here and now you are sadly mistaken. I don’t care who your people are. Get your hands off me.”

“When Grayson gets back you are so fired.”

“That is Mr. Carver to you from here on out,” a voice said making all of us jump in surprise. My eyes widened but I knew better than to react when he was in this mood. The fact his face looked like he’d been in a fight with a meat grinder only made me more certain that no one should do anything to set him off. He was all Clayton at that moment. And Brianna knew it too. She actually looked afraid of him, something I wasn’t expecting. That’s when I saw Charisse and something told me she’d lost control for real this time. Then I saw the pellet gun in her hand and where she was aiming at. I rushed forward and the world suddenly froze. No sound and the colors started fading away.

I don’t know why I asked. “You’ll keep your promise to look after the boys?”

“I promise,” I saw him say but couldn’t hear for some reason as we sat on the floor.

“You’re too pale. You need to eat some liver and onions. It’s the Saturday special at the diner.”

I vaguely recall him trying to say something but that’s when the cold seeped in.

# # # # #​

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep Beep. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep

“We’re losing her!”

# # # # #​

Dad! Where’s Montgomery? And Aunt Nanny? Where’s Mom?! I …. I thought they’d all be here waiting. Did the preachers get it wrong?

It’s not your time Honey. You need to go back.

What?

It’s not your time. You still have lots of things left to do. Things no one else can do. The boys need raising. And that Carver boy needs saving. You especially need to go back for him. He has a big job to do coming up here real soon.

How soon?

There’s time yet. But you’re going to need to help him. Now go on back. We’ll see each other again. Mind your Dad. And remember what I’ve told you. And … tell the boy Adam and his grandparents are cheering him on. It’s a war Quinn. A war for men’s souls. Now go on back and help him not to give in. He’s gotten close a few times. He’s very close this time. He needs his Jiminy Cricket.

# # # # #​

There were raised voices. They sounded like whips striking flesh. I knew that I needed to make it stop. I felt something in my hand. A little diecast car. Lord I hope he didn’t break his neck this time.

I used all my strength, not that I had much, and prayed that my aim would be good.

I heard a crash and almost said oops but didn’t have the breath for it.

A young boys voice cried, “I didn’t do it. I didn’t. It’s the one I gave Aunt Quinn! See? It has her name on it!”

The hospital curtain was ripped from around my bed. I could just barely say what was on my mind. “Honestly Grayson, have you forgotten what an indoor voice is? And I do not need Vaughn picking that language up.”

He just stood there, nearly gasping. I was losing focus but still needed to tell him something. He finally understood I needed him to lean down so he could hear me.

“It’s a war. You are on the right side. Don’t lose sight of that. Don’t give in to temptation. Souls are at risk and not just yours.”

He looked at me with eyes wide in shock. That’s all I remember for a while.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Ten​

“What do you think?”

I turned to look at Grayson. “Are these places supposed to be like this? Like a penthouse suite at the Ritz?”

“I want this one to be like this. The boys each have their own rooms. What do you think of the rest?”

I sighed. “Grayson …”

“Too much? Too little? Too soon?” He stopped and then asked, “Too late?”

“I don’t know what to think.”

“Give me time to convince you.”

“There are more important things to take care of right now.”

“No. There are important things, but they aren’t more important things.”

# # # # #​

I took a month just to leave the hospital. I was another month regaining enough strength that my breathing didn’t sound like a freight train just getting from the bed to the bathroom, and I couldn’t even do that on my own at first. I returned to the apartment with the boys despite Grayson wanting to “install me at the Manor” like I was the flipping Queen of Sheeba. I point blank refused. It was one of the few times he’s been so angry with me … and hurt … that he came close to reminding me of Nate. My doctor finally asked him if he would want to be stuck at the Manor with no escape and the woman who shot me soon to be returning there. That stopped that. But I did get a caretaker to motivate me to be able to get along without her. Lift chairs were also installed up all three flights and I felt like an idiot for having to use them. But I did. It was the only way to get up and down the stairs for a while.

The gas propelled bullet had clipped my lung and ricocheted off my ribs doing additional damage. I had reason to be weak. I also had reason to recover. Grayson continued to come and go. There was no choice. The world was slipping into chaos no matter how men like Grayson tried to slow it down and reverse its course. People fought over smaller and smaller accessible resources. In some countries water was traded like gold. In others it was fuel. Some slipped into living like it was the day of the cavemen. Other countries became so technologically dependent a minor power shortage created unbelievable chaos.

The move towards reliance on renewable energy wan't working and never had. The delusional who thought all it would take was for everyone to just give in to the inevitable, to what was best for the planet, or what they thought was best, simply would not accept that people were dying because of what they considered “best for the planet.” They insisted it would work, we just had to accept the reset, give it time to work. The lives lost were not the fault of the reset, it was the fault of those fighting against it, or so they repeated ad nauseum. At least until they started dying from the shortages as well, but by then it was nearly too late. Renewable and so-called sustainable energy practices only worked for the ultra-wealthy that could afford to posture and then buy what they needed from the back porch or the black market. Or afford to take it from the weakened populations around the world. But now even the ultra-wealthy are starting to cannibalize each other.

Grayson is a man who takes his responsibilities seriously. Some might say too seriously. Some might say he’s just a Clayton. Others say he’s not one at all. Whatever the truth, he’s a man with a mission. What I was never aware of was that the Honey Branch Mine was actually two mines, they simply had the same entrance. The more accessible branch was where the records storage was. The other mine went deeper until it entered a natural cave area which stopped further development. Grayson changed that.

He wasn’t going to be able to save everyone. His experience in the field had taught him that. But it also taught him you can save more people than seems possible by prior planning. It had taken a while and some courage to reveal his plans to me. It took me a while to even consider that he wasn’t crazy. Then one day he asked me, “Are you in?”

And just like always I said yes. What else was I going to do with my time? Have a life? The thing is, when Grayson commits to something, he has a tendency to go more than a little overboard. That day it was revealing his “bunker” to me. He drove me around the area in an electric golf cart while the boys were at school. I was growing tired even with the stupid golf cart to help. Then he sprung the rooms on me … and the fact there was only three bedrooms … one for each boy, and one that we would share. It was a lot to accept, especially after the years of resenting even the hint of a fairytale.

All our personal items started disappearing from the apartment. The boys were admonished to keep their belongings that remained at the apartment in these expensive pieces of rolling luggage when not in use. Grayson insisted I participate in spending a fortune supplying what he called “our suite”, the area that his people would occupy, and the area in the mine he’d set aside to try and save as many of the people in the area as he could.

He wasn’t working from scratch. The news told people to prepare. Disaster could strike at any time. It scared people how serious the government was being. No one was calling it “fake news” these days. The government was no longer turning a blind eye to riots by special interest groups regardless of where they fell on the political spectrum. The consequences were brutal and resources were taken from the participants and redistributed to those who would behave in a more socially acceptable manner. Other towns were trying to create continuity plans as well. Food, fuel and electricity, medical interventions, they were all in short supply.

“We’re crossing the border and you can’t stop us,” Brianna told me haughtily. “The doctor said that the new treatment would do it. If we don’t go now, it will be too late. My mother dead may be what you want but you aren’t going to get it.”

I’d only just returned to full-time work and Grayson was away again.

“Brianna they aren’t going to let you cross the border. Mexico has sealed it off to keep people out. They are shooting planes out of the sky to keep countries from sending people back. You’ve seen it on the news.”

“Yeah right, like the news isn’t exaggerating. What about – and she named some celebrity – he’s posting to his social media.”

“It’s his private island off the coast. Geez, please don’t do this. Wait until Grayson returns at least.”

It fell on deaf ears. And she was correct, I couldn’t stop her, I couldn’t stop any of them. I left a message for Grayson in the drop box we used. A few days later I got a reply. “Their choice. Don’t release any funds they may call asking for. Standard excuse … you don’t have the authority.”

That was followed by a separate message. “Things getting strange. Big meeting in Brussels. Peace plan in the works. Tell Jacobs these exact works. Acceleration Plan B. Nothing else, just that.”

I immediately called the man despite the time of night. His response? “Holy merde.”

“What was Plan A? Or am I not supposed to know?”

“It is what we are currently doing. Boss feels like time is running out. Tactics are going to change.”

Boy did they.

For a solid week I was on the phone constantly fielding questions. In the end people were just too hungry not to take what was offered.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Eleven​

Those that worked were fed with a little left over to take home. And if they sold their crops the government didn’t already have a contract for, they could set up their own rooms in advance for just in case. It was a heck of an incentive. Not everyone really believed of course, but people in this area of the country understood “just in case” and when out of town bankers started foreclosing on homes and businesses, they were surprised to find they had someplace to go, they just needed to keep helping.

Frank was one of the first farmers to say, “I’ll be damned if I see everything go to the government to feed other people, leaving us nothing. Mr. Carver? If I get some help, we might get most of it before the tornado rips it out of the ground. Or maybe one of them lunatics that starts brushfires get to it.”

He may have been the first, but he wasn’t the last. Animals and other things started to “get lost down the mine shafts” and it was a ‘bad weather’ year as well. The stuff that got lost off boats never to be seen again was just as awful. And the "lunatic arsonists" really did a lot of damage.

Amazingly during that time we found out that Charisse, Brianna, and her mother made it to Mexico and then to Costa Rico. Mrs. Clayton was no better, but she was no worse either. Their money was however, running out. Charisse was a fugitive and the state finally froze their personal accounts. Grayson told me to stop taking their calls. They’d either come back on their own … or they wouldn’t. He wasn’t intentionally cruel, there were simply too many other things and other people … people he considered more deserving … to take care of, too many people that offered up reciprocity for the help he was giving them.

During this time I also came to wonder when the federal government was going to appear.

“They won’t,” Jacobs said when I finally said something. “They are working on their own continuity plans too hard and fast to be bothered by the piddling bit we are … or that they think we are. Now if we could just get other people to understand. The fewer people that expect them to come riding to the rescue the better.” When he saw me trying to understand he said, “This place? It isn’t the only one like it in the country. But not every community has these kinds of resources or the will to use them, the patience to use them. Mr. Carver is slick. He set it up so all the participants have skin in the game. And even if nothing happens, they aren’t really out much and might wind up better off. Don’t get me wrong, there are people outside the area that aren’t happy about the food trade losses but then again … tornadoes and doubts happen. When people get paid money to leave their fields fallow, what choice do they have? Those contracts are obligations with force of law behind them.”

There was so much in his answer I was just not going to touch. I’d stayed silent for so long it had become ingrained habit. But that didn’t mean I didn’t think. I did know who to nudge so I wouldn’t have to talk. Let the ideas flow from other mouths. A replica school area was bult and supplied. Same for a hospital. A lot of men and women built areas for their own craft- and workshops … and then stocked it with what they would need to carry on. I went over there on occasion to see the progress, but I stayed out of the hierarchy that was being established.

Church space could be shared or home church could be a thing. There was a “merchant’s alley” where people planned to set up stores using barter as the currency. Food would be cafeteria style but it could also be taken back to private living quarters for a family-style dining experience. There were large greenhouse rooms with grow lights. On and on. It was only limited to people’s creativity and willingness to do the work required to turn dream into reality.

The Master Planners still had their work cut out for them however. Roads, sidewalks, ventilation, water supply and filtration and conservation, making sure there was sufficient lighting and power for everyone’s needs which would mean rationing most of the time, but people had become use to that over the years. Everything was rationed.

On the surface everything was as normal as it ever was anymore. No stranger driving through town would ever know that not far away, beneath their feet, was a new town being built. There had been one attempted raid, attempted take over. I never found out who did it. What I do know is they should have brought more men. Grayson was home that time. The battle, such as it was, didn’t even last an hour and only lasted that long due to what Jacobs called clean up. Word went out. Stay out of Clayton territory. Stop wasting time, build your own, no one was taking ours.

Then a lull. Like people had finally found some common sense, had lost the will to go to war and just wanted to survive and were willing for other people to get in that boat with them. Rational compromise towards mutual survival became the name of the game that was pushed from every side. Thankfully however, most people around here didn’t let their guard down. Grayson was like a long-haired cat with static electricity. He was leaving the next day for another assignment. He didn’t want to go. He had grown tired of nothing good coming of that part of his career.

We took the boys out of school early and headed to the lake for a picnic. We’d finished eating and the boys were running around like drunk monkeys. I would have laughed but the vibes Grayson was putting off sucked the inclination out of me.

“Quinn?”

“What?”

“Are you in?”

“What?”

He took my hand and slid a ring halfway onto my finger. “Are. You. In?”

“Grayson what’s wrong? And don’t try and give me a line. I’m not the young girl I was when we first started down this road.”

“I … just have a feeling. I have things that I want … need to take care of. Important things. But not more important things.”

I pushed my own finger into the ring he’d been holding still. “I came back for you. I came back because of you. So long as you need me I’m all in.”

Believe it or not he had a Justice standing by to sign the marriage license he’d applied for without my knowledge. But there was no time to celebrate. He got called away early. He said we’d work out the details when he got back.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Twelve​

Three weeks later and I am growing anxious. Not a word. Nothing in our private drop box either. None of the team that had left with Grayson has been heard from. For the first time I went to the Manor and used the keys he’d left me. I took his list of “last minute items” and started moving them on my own. Most people thought nothing of it since “our suite” was on the other side.

“No word from the Boss?”

“No,” I told Jacobs.

“But you’re moving his stuff.”

“Spring break and the boys are driving me a little nuts. With everything so quiet I decided to use our time constructively rather than sit around with the jitters. Taking care of some last-minute details will hopefully be one less thing that Grayson has to do when he gets back.”

Slowly he said, “You might need to face facts.”

“Screw facts, they change from day to day depending on who’s mouth they fall out of. I have faith. Don’t lose yours.”

He snorted. “Little late in the game for that I suppose. We’ll all just hang out a while longer since you’re staying.”

There wasn’t as much to move from the Manor House as I thought. Most of what remained was just for show. Until I got to the rooms Grayson used. The boys helped with what they could. When I was finished moving Grayson’s belongings – and moving his clothes was the most intimate thing I’d ever done for him – I spent the remaining days of Spring Break doing things and going places that were important to us. I took the boys to the cemetery so we could put wildflowers on the graves. A sign of respect even if Easton’s memories of his parents were now far away and misty and Vaughn had none at all of either parent. I remember being amazed that Easton was going to be ten in the summer and Vaughn had started kindergarten.

Time. It was both a friend and an enemy. I hadn’t been kidding when I’d told Grayson I was no longer the young girl I’d been when I’d first agreed to be “all in” with the first of his schemes. And the few and far between gray hairs he had were now full silver streaks though the Claytons do tend to go gray early. I started wondering what the future held. When I realized I was wondering if there was a future, I told the boys it was time to go on the next place, the next activity, on my list.

Three days proceeded like that. The last day, a Sunday, I almost had to get up and run out of the church. People were looking at me with sympathy, compassion. The peace accords all failed. The news was full of fighting breaking out again. It was bad. Bad enough that they were considering extending Spring Break a few more days to see if things were going to settle down.

“Bedtime boys.”

“When is Uncle Grayson coming back?”

He’d become “Uncle Grayson” not long after I was hospitalized. “You know how that works. We’ll see him when we see him.”

“Will we seem him again?”

“Yes,” I answered putting as much certainty and confidence in my voice I could. It was enough. They both smiled and headed to bed.

I said my own evening prayers. Part of that was praying for forgiveness for lying to the boys. I was worried and I was scared. Something had been telling me that Grayson was in trouble. That he might not come back this time. I tried to have faith. Tried to reclaim that absolute certainty that I’d had when they got my heart beating again. I wasn’t very successful but at least I was able to sleep.

# # # # #​

The door to the apartment crashed open and I nearly stood straight up in bed. “We need to go. Now.”

“Grayson?!! My god what happened to you?! You look …”

“Later Quinn. Boys! It’s go time. Grab your bags. Now.” To me he asked, “You have anything here that you need?”

I thought of the groceries that I’d bought the day before and grabbed a cooler bag and started throwing everything in. I only kept fresh on hand so there would be less to lose if we had to evacuate.

“Quinn leave the rest,” he said grabbing my shoulders painfully. “We need to go. Now.”

I stopped took a breath. “Okay.” I turned. “Boys grab your pillows. Move. Quickly. Let the men carry your bags. Quickly. Just like we practiced.”

I hefted the cooler bag and grabbed the photos and tossed them in another bag I had in my hand that held the few personal items I hadn’t yet taken to the bunker. I hurried the boys along but noticed nearly everyone was injured in some way.

A woman I only knew from seeing her talk to Jacobs on occasion said, “There’s no electronics Boss.”

Before Grayson had to ask I said, “I had Jacobs move everything last week.” As soon as I stepped outside I heard the tornado siren. Every phone in town was ringing off the hook as well. I didn’t really have time to say anything because Grayson was pushing me into my car

“Is this thing charged?”

I wanted to gripe at his question but merely answered, “Yes. And you’re not driving. You aren’t in any shape for it if we are going to have to fly”

“Fine. Just get going. The team has a few more stops but they won’t be long.”

“Boys, seatbelts.”

The car was silent except for the one whimper from Vaughn when I hit the curb turning onto River Bridge. I drove into the entrance gate of the mine to find it was already looking like a parking lot along both sides of the road.

“Damn. I was hoping … forget it. The people come first. If here is time we’ll move things around.”

Grayson all but dragged the boys and I inside and only then did he seem to find momentary relief. “Take the boys and go. I’ll come as soon as I can.”

“I’ll get the boys settled and then come to you and help.”

“No.” There was no room for negotiation. And no time. He was gone to help keep people coming in and moving to their quarters as quickly as possible. A bottleneck was forming no matter the plans that had been made to prevent it. Trying to keep track of who had made it and who was still on their way in I glanced at the digital board at the bay doors but didn’t have time to watch words or names scroll by.

I took the boys’ hands and walked away as calmly as I could. The last thing we needed was a panic to start.

# # # # #​

“It was just a mild sedative. All the children under thirteen have received it. The teenagers are being put to work to keep them busy.”

I looked where my nephews had fallen asleep and then back at the man who occupied one of the lead medical positions. “You don’t really expect me to drink that juice do you?”

He snorted. “No. Carver may wish you had when he finally slows down.”

“How many are still missing?”

“Fewer than expected. Mostly it is one family, but their neighbors said they’d gone to visit relatives and aren’t expected back for a while. There’s nothing that can be done about it.”

“Everyone made it in?” I asked incredulously.

“Except for a few here and there and people aren’t going to be heartbroken if they don’t show up before things are locked down.”

“Has he said …”

“I’ll tell her,” Grayson said coming into the living quarters looking like death warmed over. “The last car was moved and the last animal brought in. We were able to get the bay doors closed after that last rush.”

The man of science shuddered for some reason and hurried out.

“What?” I asked my husband yet not husband.

“Wild animals started coming in and heading straight to the barn area like they knew exactly where they needed to go. Blasted bears even waddled in ignoring everyone. Jacobs said they headed straight for a corner in the place the kids call the ark and curled up and haven’t moved since.”

“He told me the other day birds kept flying in and nesting the last few weeks. There’s even bats deep in the mine hibernating.”

He would have collapsed if I hadn’t rushed over and kept him upright. He was cold and clammy and there were odd marks all over the skin that was exposed.

“You need to rest.”

“I will. No choice. But not until I explain things.” The bark of laughter that left him, followed by the shudder, worried me worse than anything else had that night.

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Thirteen​

He took my hands in his. “Thank you. Jacobs told me what you did.”

“I just moved your …”

“Not that though thank you for that as well. You … you kept them here. My people. They were at a point of making a break for it.”

“What? I didn’t see that.”

“They wouldn’t have allowed you to see it. Jacobs said it was your calm and confidence, your faith, that changed their minds. Had they left we never could have pulled this off. We’re running thin as it is. I … I lost five of my top people.”

I got up and dampened a cloth at the ridiculously ornate bar and brought it back to wash his face uncovering multiple bruises as I did so. He finally pushed my hand away. “I’m fine Quinn. Just … tired.”

“Fatigue isn’t what happened to you.”

“No.” Quietly he began to explain. “We were ambushed at the air strip. It was a set up from the get go.” I tried to stay calm for his sake. “We were hauled off. Questioned. Some of their methods were … unpleasant when no one would talk. That’s how I lost my people. Then I recognized someone I shouldn’t have. He shouldn’t have been there regardless. He was supposed to be …” He shook his head. “I’ll tell that part if we survive this one. Until then it isn’t something you should know. And I know I’m not making sense.”

“Just tell me. You can make sense another time.”

He tried to chuckle but it came close to being a sob. “We’ve balkanized. The country just fractured. Maybe that was always the plan. Let people waste time surviving, feuding, in-fighting ... and then retake the different areas, weakest first. It may still be the plan. Unfortunately others have been making plans for just this situation. China. The Caliphate. Others. We’re about to have our bones picked over. It’s already started on the West Coast and it is moving this way. There’s also action on the Southern Border. Florida is getting hit from those that were using Cuba as a base of operation. Hawaii is nothing but volcanic rubble. North Korea wanted to send a message so they’d be left alone. Alaska? They’re getting pummeled by Russia on one side and Canada on the other.”

“Nuclear?” I asked in fear.

“A couple so far … LA, Portland … but they were suitcase sized and clean. Atlanta may have had one go off there prematurely as well. It’s burning but no intel as to from what. I don’t know who has the football anymore. If we retaliate …” He shrugged but only had the energy to do it with one shoulder.

“You need to rest,” I told him. “Let me field the calls for a bit.”

“You sure?”

“Close your eyes Grayson. I’ll be right here.”

 

[Griz3752]

You had me at the 1st Chapter (as usual) but I was too busy reading to write a comment.

Keep going & we'll try to keep up . . .

 

[Kathy in FL]

Chapter Fourteen​

That first month was a misery. Not the misery the first week had been but it was still difficult and unpleasant. The mental health support teams needed their own support before things settled down. There were more suicides than expected. A lot of breakdowns and near breakdowns as reality set in. It wasn’t just the medical and mental health side that created stressors. The bunker had never been seriously field tested. Systems had been overbuilt but this was the first time they were serving as many as they were at the same time. Power had to be rationed more than as expected until people learned the rules of conservation.

Not as many bombs went off around the world as was anticipated. Our problem was that we were in a red zone of fall out. It would subside but it would take months. Perhaps as much as two years. There was an eighteen-month depth to the food pantry for the bunker but we needed to start stretching and planting to replenish that now for just in case.

Grayson and his people were in contact with people on the outside. Us being in a hot zone actually meant we were protected. Protected from what? The ongoing worldwide insanity. The brief nuclear exchange that had occurred didn’t change things as much as had been theorized. It was actually Yellowstone metaphorically giving a small burp and a few other volcanoes on the ring of fire lighting up the skies that did. God held His hand for his own reasons and timing and didn’t destroy the world by fire as he could have, but he sure did singe everyone’s tailfeathers.

The ash in the air grounded the world’s aircrafts. The resulting weather changes wreaked havoc with the growing seasons. Humans and animals died of starvation and a temporary mini ice age seemed to settle over even the warmest equatorial locations. The transhumanist movement collapsed. So did humanism. There were days all you had to survive on was your faith. I wouldn’t call what the world went through during that time a revival so much as an enema that washed out all the crap that had built up. Humanity is still stupid is all I'll add to that.

Grayson doesn’t want to believe that. He sits in the amen pew and is simply thankful he’d been given the chance and resources to redeem his own faith and been given the opportunity to serve a higher purpose. He’s also been known to let loose on his children for not being grateful for what God did for us … or at least not showing their gratitude and helping the community continue to grow and reconnect.

Yes, I said his children. As long as Nate had been out of my life, I still had more than few things to work through with Grayson. Grayson understood. We were also careful that first year, everyone was. The bunker couldn’t afford a population explosion and none of us knew just what kind of world we’d eventually be exiting out into, but we knew it would be dangerous. But with all things, surprises happen and not all of them pleasant.

First there weren’t any pregnancies that first year and barely any the second year. Our staff of doctors hypothesized that it was a lack of connection to the earth's lunar cycles. Women were having their periods, though most were light and much further apart than the normal twenty-eight days, and they weren’t really ovulating. Their bodies were going through the motions just enough to stave off menopause, but not productively. I was the first to catch pregnant after we’d been in the bunker nearly twenty months. Grayson was a nervous wreck and had the gall to come unglue in sick bay and ask how it could possibly have happened.

He picked himself up off the floor after a few minutes and said, “All right. Question answered. Now how do I keep her safe?” The medical staff slowly exited their hiding places trying not to grin. All I could do was roll my eyes and set the pillow back down on the examination table.

Our people started leaving the bunker by dribs and drags after the all-clear had been given twenty-four months after the bay doors had been closed and sealed. Most came back at night for the first year. I imagine it must have felt like what Adam and Eve faced after being kicked out of Eden. The bunker wasn’t Eden, but the world outside was as challenging as what they must have faced.

The world had devolved. That’s the most succinct word I have ever found to describe it. We’d been knocked back eons, and so had the population. The world was not a Mad Max movie but there was more than just a bit of dystopia to it.

On the day Grayson finally deemed that I could leave the bunker – he’d been taking our nephews with him on land surveys for weeks – a three month old Joshua and I wore special goggles that had been developed to give the newly “Exited” a way to keep their retinas from scalding. We’d forgotten what it would be like to emerge back into the light. Some people still have to wear UV shields all these years later.

Calendars were useless for reproductive timing for a while as women’s cycles returned to what approximated normal. I say approximated because hunger, thirst, and a heavy workload affected our cycles as well. I became pregnant two months after leaving the bunker. It wasn’t necessarily a good thing for me. The pregnancy was a hard one and I nearly died in the birthing. Perhaps I did for a brief moment, or it was a ridiculous delusion. I saw my mother, Aunt Nanny, and several other women I recognized looking at me impatiently and pointing back the way I had come. Aunt Nanny yelled after me, “This isn’t something you’re supposed to practice and get good at girl. Get back where you belong before I find a broom and put it to your backside.”

No one could understand why I suddenly woke up laughing with the energy to give one final push. They tell me the doctor barely had time to catch Joseph as he shot out like a sit ball from a straw after being stuck for over twenty-four hours. They’d been preparing to cut him from me. I looked over the side of the bed and asked Grayson, “What on earth are you doing down there?”

He rose to his knees and started giving a prayer of thanks that many in the room joined in on.

We’d moved back into the Manor House nearly three years to the day when I realized I hadn’t had a period in three months. A lot of women were going through menopause early and I thought the same thing. Just because I was the wife of Grayson, our community’s leader, that didn’t mean I took a pass on all of the hard work of keeping the children fed and schooled and all of the rest of it. I also still “fielded calls” so that Grayson and his team could get work done without constant interruptions. Sometimes it was even me they came to see. My days of being quiet had by necessity come to an end.

The twins Adam and Annette were born early and I was lucky the healthcare our doctors could offer had at least returned to “modern” levels. During the birth I started bleeding heavily. They discovered several ovarian cysts and managed to stop the bleeding but Grayson also ordered them while I was unconcious to do whatever it took so that it wouldn’t happen again. My mother had died of a sepsis infection from a ruptured ovarian cyst. Common sense would say that my baby manufacturing days were at an end.

“Do you hate me?” Grayson asked, gray and shaggy headed, gripping my hand tightly as he told me.

“What a ridiculous question. Do I wish it could have been different? I’ll not lie to you and say otherwise. But so long as you still need me I’m all in.”

He lay his head down and it is still one of the few times I’ve seen him openly weep. I didn’t know but the doctors had been warning him that between my age and condition, the pregnancy hadn’t been optimal and with them being twins … well, no one will ever be able to convince me that life is ever going to be easy and that you ever escape heart ache, but there can be compensations if you just allow them to happen.

We aren’t grandparents yet. Grayson keeps hoping. In private he says he hasn’t spent all the blood, sweat, and scars to simply watch his hard work disappear and be worked by someone else. I still know when to stay quiet with him. When not antagonized he eventually quiets down on his own and regrets his words, and relieved no one else but me heard them.

“There’s time. They’re all still young.”

“I’m not,” he often grouses.

“Didn’t seem like it last night.”

He gives me a startled look and then slowly smiles. He walks over and lays his forehead on mine. “Thank you.”

“For?” I asked going back to organizing the latest survey maps so they can be rolled back up and put in their tubes for filing.

“For coming back … all the times you could have left.”

My hands still and I look up. “Thank you for being a man to come back to.”

“For the remainder of my days.”

I know he worries. Neither one of us are spring chickens but Grayson is still years ahead of me on the journey to eternity. One day one or the other of us will take that last step to the next first step. For now we live for the time we’ve been given and do our best to make sure the next generations realize this second chance we’ve all been given is more important than the mistakes that were made. The world is going to end, there is no stopping it. But the journey is what is important. It's how we learn to have faith and all that it means. It’s more important to find someone you are equally yoked to make that journey with.

The End

 

[Griz3752]

As promised, briefer than usual but still an excellent tale.

I'm sure some missed the recipes even more than I.

Thank you, yet again . . .

 

[sssarawolf]

I wondered if you were well yet or not and hoped you hadn't had a relapse with all you have to do. Never fun. This one is good to, thank you.

 

[Mr Bill]

Wow

 

[Siskiyoumom]

Lots to ponder with this fine story. Thank you!

 

[Lake Lili]

Fantastic story! Can see why it was demanding to be told.
Thanks!
Lili

 

[teedee]

Great job dear lady. Thanks!

 

[kyrsyan]

Wow!

 

[seraphima]

Well, you sure surprised me with this exciting but, as usual, insightful tale! thank you!

 

[SairieBelle]

You are a treasure, Kathy. Thank you.

 

[Sammy55]

I'll third that Wow!

I've never read anything quite like this before. Very thought provoking. Thanks, Kathy. You got a good 'un here.

 

[AlaskaSue]

Completely amazing tale, well-told and riveting! I’m so thankful for the gift you share with us! Thank you, Kathy!

 

[nancy98]

Most excellent Kathy. Thank you.

 

[CGTech]

Excellent story Kathy! Thanks!

 

[john70]

NICE

 

[rkgjl]

AQ

 

[Raymond]

Kathy, You are an insanely talented writer. Trying to make sense of all the family connections in the first half of this story have me more confused than trying to catch a drunk raccoon running through Brer Rabbit's briar patch. Thanks for everything.

 

[ted]

Thank you for giving us your earworm!

 

[ydderf]

Thanks Kathy. Other then not seeing what the next generation does with the world very enjoyable read.

 

[john70]

THEY LIVE HAPPY EVER AFTER

 

[Hilblyswife]

Wow! Really makes you think.

 

[Landcruiser]

It was great to read a completely new story from you Kathy. And just like the others I had to read it as quickly as possible once I started it. Thanks for another good one.

 

[MMWW]

Thank you. I very much enjoyed the story.

 

[ReneeT]

Thank You, Kathy!!

(How did I miss this one?!)