Xyz affair, p.1
XYZ Affair, page 1
V I R G I N I A B E A C H
C A P E C H A R L E S
The XYZ Affair
by Mary Billiter
© Copyright 2014 by Mary Billiter
978-1-940192-20-8
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a
retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means – electronic,
mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other – except for brief quotations in printed
reviews, without the prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. All the characters in this book are fictitious,
and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
The names, incidents, dialogue, and opinions expressed are products of the
author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
Published by
210 60th Street
Virginia Beach, VA 23451
212-574-7939
www.koehlerbooks.com
Publisher
John Köehler
Executive Editor
Joe Coccaro
DEDICATION
For the beautifully bald, blue-eyed newspaper editor who met me on Christmas so I wouldn’t be alone. And then waited until I was ready for love. For the man who stole my heart by simply taking the lead. For the man who dances with me in the moonlight while Bob Dylan serenades us.
You are everything I ever dreamed and never imagined would happen. For my husband, Ron Gullberg, who showed me that lightening does strike twice and that happily ever after isn’t just for fairy tales.
I will love you forever.
Table Of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
CHAPTER 1
HOME. I didn’t even know where that was anymore. I glanced at the GPS mounted on the windshield of my Suburban. By its calculations, I’d be at the only home whose doors hadn’t closed on my children or me within ten to twenty minutes, depending on traffic.
Traffic on the two-lane highway had been thin until I had crossed county lines into Natrona, where more cars signaled to pass. It was Memorial Day weekend and everyone, it seemed, rushed to reach Wyoming’s central city, Casper.
“Did you know a lot of the locals call it Ghost Town? Get it? Casper. Ghost.” I glanced at my three children in the rearview mirror.
My teenager, Michael, rolled his eyes.
“Hey, check out the plane landing.” I pointed out my side window.
The airport, tucked off the highway behind a canopy of aspen trees, waved their silvery leaves in the wind to welcome visitors to the Cowboy State.
We passed the airport just as quickly as I had announced it. Casper’s only a big city by Wyoming’s standards; having more land than people. Most Wyomingites preferred it that way.
Two red bleeps on the GPS map signaled the turn off to my parent’s house. I took a deep breath and stared at the green highway sign in the distance telling me to veer left. I knew the way to my parents’ house, I just wasn’t sure it was the way home.
I flipped on my turn signal and felt my heart keep rhythm with the constant clicking. Oh God. I hadn’t eaten so I wasn’t sure if the ache in my stomach was from hunger or dread.
I gripped the steering wheel. “Okay, we’re getting close.”
Michael’s face popped up in the rearview mirror. The tension in my shoulders lessened as did my hold on the steering wheel. I smiled at him.
“So are Grandma and Grandpa excited that we’re coming?” he asked.
I took another deep breath. “Excited?” I exhaled. “Upset is probably a bit more like it.”
“They don’t want us there?” Michael’s teenage voice peeked and then dropped in octaves.
I glanced at him and lowered the volume on the car radio. One ear bud protruded from his ear and the other one dangled on his chest. His iPod leaned against his leg.
“Michael, Grandma and Grandpa are excited to see their grandbabies. They adore you. It’s their forty-something-year-old daughter they aren’t too thrilled with right now.”
Michael sat back in his seat. I don’t think he was too thrilled with me either. Uprooting my children from their fathers, friends and the Wyoming valley they had called home for more than a decade wasn’t my first option. But when Cowboy State University called with a teaching job, I literally couldn’t afford to pass it up.
I returned the rearview mirror to its original position and wiped away the streaks of smeared mascara that circled my eyes. I looked like a raccoon and probably smelled like one too. Lovely.
With each passing street sign, my Suburban narrowed the distance between my parents and me. Let this go well. Please. My palms began to sweat. I quickly wiped them on my jeans and resumed steering.
“Yup, we’re getting close.”
Michael reached up and squeezed my shoulders. “Mom, relax.” His hands had a tight massaging hold on my tense muscles. “It’s only G-ma and G-pa.”
“Okay, that’s our nickname for them,” I felt the tightness in my neck return, “but I don’t think Grandpa would be too fond of it. So just call him Grandpa, okay? Or Professor Quinn; that’d really impress him.”
“You gotta chill or you’re going to have a heart attack.”
I nodded. He was right. I looked forward and reacquainted myself with Casper.
“Oh hey,” I wagged my finger. “Just up ahead is the square-shaped ice cream store.” I turned right at the next intersection, but instead of seeing the corner store with ice cream cone decals dancing happily across the windows, I stared at an obnoxious neon green poster. “Coming Soon! Sam’s Electronics.”
“Ahh, man that stinks. It’s the only place where you can get square-shaped ice cream in a square-shaped cone.” I hit the steering wheel with the palm of my hand. “What the heck. We don’t need an electronics store. We need our square-shaped ice cream.”
Josie was laying her head on Izzy, our golden-mutt. Fred, her stuffed dog, was tucked between them. When Josie leaned forward to talk to me, Izzy groaned.
“Geez, Mom. It’s only ice cream.” Her long, chestnut hair softly framed her face. Her brown eyes locked onto me in the rearview mirror. Josie and Michael were one of the few blessings from my first marriage. She squeezed my shoulder. “It’s okay Mom, we’ll find you another ice cream store. I promise. It’ll be fun.” Josie sat behind me so when she giggled it tickled my neck. I rubbed my shoulder against my ear.
“It won’t be the same.” I could hear the disappointment in my voice. “I was going to take you guys out for a cone later…” When I needed a break from G-Ma and G-Pa.
“I like ice cream, Momma.” James tried to lean forward but the straps on his car seat secured him in place.
“Me too, buddy.” I rapped my fingers against the steering wheel. My parents’ house was less than a mile away.
“Okay, I know Hadley Field is just up ahead. I used to walk to it from G-ma’s house.” I turned around and quickly smiled at my three children. “It’s where I learned to play soccer and ride a horse. I went to cheerleading camp there.” I reached behind my seat and jostled Josie’s knee. “Cheer camp is so much fun.
She mirrored her older brother and rolled her eyes.
I lowered my speed and slowly drove past the field. The fence was still there, but monuments and tombstones rose from the ground in a perfect lined formation. A white cross was attached to the entry gate.
“Oh, no.” My voice sank along with my spirits. “It’s a cemetery.”
“Oh snap!” Michael started laughing. “It looks like everything you love is dead, gone or buried.”
“Not funny. I loved Hadley Fields. It was a great, safe place to hang out when I was your age.” I slapped my thigh. “Did you know I learned to roller skate there?”
“Wow. That’s really lame,” Michael said with a grin.
I chuckled. “No, it was so much fun. I had my own pair of skates and I wore my rainbow striped terry cloth tank top and white dolphin shorts…” That showed off half my ass to your father. “It was great.” I stared longingly at the field of rich green grass that was marred by death. I had my first kiss there.
Thoroughbred Estates was straight ahead. I waited at the stop sign and looked at the gated community. I blew out a mouthful of air. Great.
It sure wasn’t the old neighborhood. If it were, our two-story house would have had its summer coat of paint and my big red, 1997 Suburban would have fit in perfectly. But as my father, the professor, gained stature at the University, so did our housing.
I didn’t bother to look either way as I drove through the last intersection. My car dipped up and over the speed bump that signaled the entrance into my parents’ subdivi
My parents’ home was on Bridle. Their house was an “L”-shaped, two-story, wood-sided structure. I would have said it was typical of Wyoming, but it wasn’t. The architect had taken curves out of the equation and replaced them with sharp edges and hard angles. The large flat facets and mammoth size made it more futuristic than rustic.
“That’s their new house?” Michael asked.
“Weird, huh?” I said. “I’ve only been in it once and it was, well…odd.”
Josie rubbed her eyes and yawned. “It’s different.”
I leaned forward and peered at it through the windshield. The only Wyoming element that remained was that it was built on the bank of the North Platte River. The neighboring lots were ten acres each with a mandatory one-acre setback.
“It’s different and expensive. G-ma told me they had to pay more money for their lot and they couldn’t build close to the river.”
“Why?” Josie asked.
“To preserve the river views for the residents who weren’t lucky enough to have their custom home built on a bluff that faces the Platte.”
“Oh.” Josie leaned her head back.
I gazed at my parents’ house. It was Shangri-La in a rugged Western town. The dual combination of mountain views and river frontage, though, was hard to argue. My father’s new car, on the other hand, wasn’t.
“Son of a bit…” I stopped short. He couldn’t buy a magazine subscription for Josie’s school fundraiser, but… A 2012 silver Beemer coupe was parked behind my mom’s covered car. Must be nice.
I cut the engine and stared at the personalized plate on the back. As the largest county in Wyoming, Natrona was ranked first. License plates began with the county seat followed by a silhouette of a bucking horse and rider and then the license number or in my Dad’s case, vanity message. From a distance it read #1 PROF. Oh, brother.
“Is that G-pa’s car?” Michael gripped the back of the front seat. My body pulled toward him. “No, way. That is so sick.”
I couldn’t respond. I looked at the car whose worth alone could cover my living expenses for a year.
My mom suddenly opened the front door to her house. I turned in her direction.
Michael quickly unbuckled James from his car seat and the kids rushed to meet her. She hugged and kissed each of them before they ran into the house.
Okay…here I go.
I stepped out of the Suburban. My mom was thinner, but when she slightly tilted her head I heard the words that weren’t being spoken. Are you alright?
I shook my head.
She waved me toward her.
Her perfume held me before she did. She opened her arms. I walked into them.
“Oh, Dani.” She kissed the side of my head. “You’re home.”
I felt my eyes well up and a year’s worth of hurt run down my face. Mom. I couldn’t speak. The knot in my throat prevented words from coming forward and pain from being swallowed.
“I’ve been so worried about you.”
My chest rattled.
She held me tightly. “Shh,” she said, “It’s okay.”
Josie ran out of the house and wrapped her arms around my waist. “Ahh, Mom, don’t cry.”
I quickly wiped my eyes and pinched the snot from my nose, wiping it on my jeans. “Oh, baby girl, I’m okay. It’s just…I haven’t seen my mom in a long time.”
Mom gently patted the top of Josie’s head. “Now, we’ll see each other all the time.”
I looked into the house. “Where’s Dad?”
“Oh, your father’s been napping so he might be a bit groggy and distant.”
I checked my watch. “The Professor napping?” I rolled my eyes. “I don’t think so.”
“No, he does rest from time to time.”
“Sure. Dad never rests…” And God help any of his children who do. Rest. It wasn’t in his vocabulary. Now, hiding to avoid something or someone…that’s more like him.
“Five years.” His voice reached the front porch.
I watched my father. His steps were measured with precision. He approached the entry hall of his house the way he walked in a college commencement ceremony. Joe Quinn did not believe in anything less than perfection.
He stood stoically in front of me. I have described my father as thin, but never gaunt. His face had lost any fullness it had. I stopped myself from gasping.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Five years,” he repeated.
I held my hands palm up like they were scales and slightly moved them up and down, weighing what to say. “Five years?”
“Since you’ve been home.”
“Oh.” I clenched my jaw. And here we go.
“Five years,” he said.
I nodded. How ‘bout we make it another five and I leave? I’m sure there’s still a hotel in town that hasn’t converted into something else.
He stiffly held out his arms. “Daniella.”
It sounded more like a question than a request.
I went to him. His arms perfunctorily patted my back. I’m sure Frankenstein embraced people the same way.
When he released me he looked at my kids. “Three children.” His head bounced as he glanced at each one.
“Yes, Dad, you remember…Michael, Josie and James.”
A flicker of life sparked in his eyes when his gaze landed on James.
I bit my lip. James, my only child from my second marriage, had his father’s stocky build, but my strong dark Irish features.
My father lightly tapped the end of James’ nose. “Aren’t you a handsome boy?”
“Yes, I am.” James stood with pride before my Dad.
I laughingly smiled.
Michael scooped James up and kissed his neck. James giggled. Michael set him back down. “Hey buddy. Are you going to show G-…” Michael grinned at me, “Grandpa how to fish?”
“That would be grand,” my dad said. He bent down toward James. “Did your dad teach you how to fish?”
“Chase didn’t, I did,” Michael stepped toward his little brother. “I took James fishing.”
I swallowed, but the lump had returned. That’s not Michael’s job. His father should have taught him. My dad was probably thinking the same thing.
Now, he turned his attention toward my suitcase-stuffed Suburban. “It looks like you packed to stay a while.”
Michael shot me a quizzical look.
“Uh, yeah…Dad, we’re moving to Casper.”
“That’s right.” He slowly nodded. “That’s right.” He lightly massaged his neck. “It is a shame you had to leave such a beautiful valley and home.”
No, it’s a shame that Chase couldn’t be faithful and then to top it off decided he didn’t want a family.
“I suppose it reinforces the truth about statistics.” My father made eye contact with me. “Sixty percent of second marriages end in divorce.”
Wow. His comment pierced through me. I refused to yield to the pain. I smiled in his direction. Thank you, Professor, for that statistical lesson on the shambles of my life. My lip began to quiver. I bit it down. Where would I be if I didn’t have him to remind me of my failings?
“Can I get Izzy?” Josie looked up at me.
“Uh, actually,” my mom said. “I’d rather not have dog hair in the house.”
Josie sniffled and her voice cracked. “You’re not going to leave Izzy out in the car, are you? What are we going to do with her?”
“Well,” my mom said. “There’s the barn or the garage.”
“Uhh…” I pursed my lips.
My mom patted me on the back. “I’ll let you work this out with your children.” She walked into the house. Dad followed.
I curtly smiled at their backs. “Thanks.”
All three children stared at me.
“It’s cold and it’s been raining. She can’t stay outside. It’s not warm enough yet.” Michael served as the spokesman for the clan.
“Okay.” I held up my hand. “Let me think.”
Josie handed me my cell phone that was tucked beside Fred, her stuffed dog, in the crook of her arm. “It beeped that it was fully charged.”
I scrolled through the contacts. “Oh, hey. I could call Ruth. She’s the secretary at the college that’s been helping me with all my new-hire paperwork. I could see if we could leave Izzy with her. She said she lives close to Grandma.”
