Page 45 of Rescued By the Operative

“Tell me about it.”

After the server takes our order, I listen with great interest as Blondie tells me about her childhood home in the mountains, about growing up with her grandmother on a Christmas tree farm in Western North Carolina. About all the dogs and cats and neighborhood children her grandmother took care of. She tells me about camping and hiking in the mountains, about waterfalls and swimming holes and barbecues.

“Maybe someday we can go there together,” I say.

By this time, our food has arrived.

“You know,” she says, picking at her food, “I’m going back there when this is over.”

“I know.”

“I’m not the girl who likes to fantasize about things like that.”

“What do you mean, Blondie?”

“I mean, let’s just enjoy what we have right now and not make plans for the future. It’s too difficult to think about.”

The last thing I want is for her to have a difficult evening. I want this to be a break from all the difficulty.

So, I lie through my teeth. “Just so we’re clear. I only meant that I’d like to see that someday. Not that we’d be a couple. I agree with you. We can just enjoy what we have right now.”

From what I can see in her gaze as we clink our wine glasses together, Blondie is holding back.

This woman has a wall up, and she’s going to have to tear it down herself. I can’t do it for her.

Suddenly, she looks past me and breathes a curse. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“What?” I ask, following her stare across the room.

When I look behind me, a man in his 60s is clumsily trying to stealthily sneak out of the room, knocking over a candle in the process, which catches the tablecloth on fire.

“Oh my god,” she hisses, standing up and tossing down her napkin on the table. “Stay right there, old man, and don’t touch another thing.”

I am dumbfounded as I watch Blondie empty a glass of water on the small fire.

He tries to avoid my gaze, but it’s no use.

I know this man as well as I know my own brothers.

“Curly?”

Chapter Nineteen

Nelly

I can’t tell if Jake is angry or happy to see his uncle.

The three of us sit together at our table, where we’ve ordered dessert that no one is eating as Carl explains everything to Jake.

“So. Now you know why I’m here, and why I couldn’t return your calls.”

“I just can’t believe you two know each other,” Jake says, looking as if he’s had the wind knocked out of him.

“I understand if you’re angry with me, son.”

The way he calls Jake “son” tugs at my heartstrings. I never would have pictured this legendary G-man to have such deep ties to other people.

“I’m not angry, I just…wish you had stayed.”