Page 65

CHAPTER 63

WHEN I OPENED the door to our apartment, I heard laughter spilling from the kitchen. It was Julie with a severe case of the giggles. And then I heard a dog barking through the giggles. It was our dog. After ten days away, Martha was finally back home!

I locked up my weapon in the bedroom gun safe and then called out, “Mommmmy’s heeeeeeere,” so that I could hear my daughter’s shouts and more woofing from my beloved doggy friend of many years.

I was not disappointed. As I rounded the bend, Julie and Martha reached me. I stooped so I could hold them both at the same time and they bowled me over. There was more laughter and more barking, and then Joe reached his hand down and helped me up from the floor. God, I was glad to be home.

Joe said, “The pasta’s ready, sweetie. Come to the table.”

I shed my blazer, hung it on the back of a chair, washed my hands, and accepted a bowl of linguine with Joe’s chunky homemade red sauce. Joe filled me in on Martha.

“The little nuggets were benign,” he said.

I translated “nuggets” into “tumors.”

“Joe, is that the end of them? Does she need more treatment?”

“Barbara said no, but she’ll watch for any recurrences every three months …”

I leaned down and hugged Martha gently so that I wouldn’t hurt her, and she gave me a soap-free face washing with her tongue.

After dinner, we had dessert: chocolate ice cream and creamy decaf coffee. Joe loaded up the dishwasher and turned down Julie’s bed while I took a hot shower.

I put on Joe’s bathrobe, wondering what I could tell him and still keep my promise to James Walsh within the lines of “I swear not to tell.” I hadn’t yet worked it out when Julie called out to me.

“You go on ahead to bed,” I said to my husband. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

He untied the bathrobe sash with a quick pull and laughed at me, saying, “I’m timing you.”

I re-tied the sash and went to Julie’s room, kissed her sweet face, tousled her unruly hair, and assured myself that Martha was snuggled in and not whimpering.

“Mommy, I love Martha so much.”

“And she loves you. Call me if you need me, Jules. Try not to wake up your dad.”

“I know,” she said. “He’s going to Mexico, but he’ll be back soon.”

My little girl was comforting me.

I pulled down the blinds, shut off her lights, and went to our room. Dropping Joe’s robe to the floor, I crawled into bed next my husband, and he hugged and kissed me to pieces.

When he took a breath, I asked him. “Joe? What’s this assignment in Mexico about?”

“It’s about information gathering,” he said. “Bao is fluent in Spanish, and you know I’m a pretty good negotiator …”

But then he had no words and neither did I. I was supposed to tell Joe something, but I couldn’t remember what the hell it was.