Shadows of the Past (SEAL Brotherhood: Shadow Team #1)

Chapter Seven

T he kerfuffle between the sisters continued well into the night after dinner. He helped his dad in the kitchen to remove himself from the drama neither one of them wanted.

“Is it like this every evening?” he asked.

“Just about. It’s getting harder and harder to hold my anger. Don’t want to hurt your darling mother, Dimitri, but they are wearing me out. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the help and all. I’m not strong enough to hold her in the shower, and it takes two of them to do it, and for the changing of her diapers. I don’t care how much you love someone, it’s just not something we men are used to. For the sake of satisfying those tasks, I’m glad they’re here.”

“But you’ll have to hire someone soon, Dad. That’s the next step. Unless you want to spend the rest of your days living with her sisters.”

“Oh God, no! They have a nice facility here at the Ranch. But she doesn’t want to go there, and I don’t want to be the one to send her, either. She likes her house, her flowers, her butterflies, the papayas and bananas we grow here. I think she eats healthier, when she eats, when we harvest our cabbage and broccoli, and the string beans this year are overflowing. It’s been a bountiful year.”

Dimitri was thinking it was a good time to die. He’d certainly seen a lot of elderly pass away in the middle of a war zone, and that wasn’t very pretty. It was a scourge against humanity that someone who birthed children and contributed to the family had to die in a heap of rubble that was later cleared out with a bulldozer to make the streets wider for heavier equipment needed in the war effort. He’d seen his share of baby carriages, dirty or scorched stuffed animals, and children’s shoes half-buried to give him nightmares for the rest of his life. He endured it because that was his job. To make it easier for others to escape, to get the rescue crews in to save the living. Disposing of the dying or dead was unceremonious and made him sad, even sick to his stomach.

Of course he’d spare his father this. No reason for anyone to see it unless they were forced to. He was glad he wasn’t in that business any longer.

“She’s really got it nice here, Dad. Compared to how the rest of the world lives, she’s in the lap of luxury. She can accept death on death’s terms, and we are all here to hold her hand and keep her from getting scared.”

“When you put it that way, I guess you think I’m a calloused sonofabitch, don’t you?”

“Not at all. Everyone grieves in their own way.”

All of a sudden, his dad stopped. He took two shuffling steps back, bringing his wet hands out of the dishwater, dripping.

“What am I doing here?” He had a panic in his eye as he searched for something in front of him that looked familiar and found nothing. He was in his private space again.

Dimitri put his hand on his dad’s shoulder. “You’re with me, Dad. We’re doing the dishes. Getting ready for bed soon. Remember?”

“No, I don’t remember,” he grumbled and dried his hands off. Then he looked at Dimitri in the eyes. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” He held his hand out to Dimitri to shake.

He did so.

Shrieking struck out in the hallway above the living room. Euladia had pulled Andrea’s hair, nearly sending her flying. “I said, do not touch my stuff. I’m not sleeping with you or anyone else! I’m staying right here.”

The sudden noise made his dad grab him, hug him tight. “Don’t let those mean girls get me, Dad. Please.”

Dad?

Dimitri held the shaking man. “Not to worry. I’m here to protect and love you. You’re strong. You’ve built a strong family, and you have a wife who loves you more than she loves herself. No reason to worry. Nobody is going to hurt you.”

He meant the words too. He would never have been able to tell him those things if it wasn’t for his dad’s private space, that little room in his head that was the equalizer.

Thirty seconds later, his father abruptly dropped his arms and continued washing dishes.

“Did I—?” he asked and then stopped.

“Just a little one. Not bad at all.”

“Oh, good. Thanks, son.”

“Glad to be here for you. Any time.”

He excused himself and went in search of a battle to stop. He wasn’t going to even involve his dad.

At the first bedroom, Euladia’s things were strewn about the bed and on the floor. Her clothes had been ripped out of the closet. The three of them turned and stared back at him.

“You three are living here at the gracious invite of my mother, your sister, who is dying. Is this how you pay her generosity back?”

“But we have to move to make room for you. And she won’t. We drew numbers, and she was the worst guess,” said Miriam in her squeaky mouse voice. “She’s the most stubborn of any of us, Deenie. What should we do?”

“I think you all should do a sleepover on the living room floor for tonight and sort it out tomorrow. If this is how you’re going to be, none of you deserve to have your own room. And the rooms don’t belong to you anyhow.”

Just then, they could all hear Maria calling that she had to go pee, and it was urgent.

All three of them darted for the door and stumbled in the doorway, with no room to let any of them pass. Then they sorted it out and ran to her.

Dimitri had only been there about three hours and already he was getting tired. He thought maybe he’d go down to the sporting goods store and buy a big tent and pitch it in the backyard. And, on further thought, he decided maybe he’d threaten them they had to use it, bugs and all.

Euladia returned to the room and started picking up her things. With her head hanging low, she apologized. “Just seems like they always pick on me. They gang up. Andrea is so fat, no one can sleep with her, and Miriam wheezes, sneezes in her sleep, and then snores like a mountain man. I won’t get any rest at all.”

“It could be worse,” Dimitri said. “You could be dying of cancer. Think of how Mom feels. I’ll bet she’d give anything to sleep on the living room couch or even the floor, if she could sleep. I’d bet she would rather clean up after all you guys and wait on you hand and foot than go through what she’s going through now.”

Euladia, always the more sensitive and emotional one, burst into tears. He grabbed her in his arms and whispered to the greying woman, “Come on. I’ll help you. You tell me what to pick up, and I’ll do all the heavy lifting. And I have some noise suppressant earphones we use for shooting that will deafen out all of Miriam’s little squeaks, sneezes, and roaring. You won’t remember a thing and will sleep like a baby. Trust me.”

He felt her giggle in his grip.

“I was always your favorite aunt, wasn’t I?”

He chuckled but didn’t let go. There was only one way to answer that one, even if it was a lie.

“Yes, you were.”

While everyone was getting situated, Dimitri pulled his duty bag into the room she vacated, showered, and put on his kewpie doll pajama bottoms and a clean tee shirt. Each time he passed the hallway, he made sure his dad’s phone was still there. It remained there, even after everyone was in bed.

He checked on the family and laughed at the sight of Euladia lying on her back, fast asleep, smiling, the big green headphones cupping the top of her head and covering her ears.

Problem solved.

He tiptoed to the phone, unplugged it, and took it downstairs. He stepped out the kitchen door onto the porch.

Cicadas chirped their songs. Distant traffic from one of the highways nearby droned on. A single small plane flew overhead. The sky was dark and clear, the moon half full, and the stars especially bright. It was the calm before the storm.

He didn’t have to look at the note. He knew her number by heart. Had dialed it in his sleep many times. Had wondered if she’d pick up if he ever tried to call her. He never tried, knowing that she’d been killed and feeling embarrassed he was trying to cheat death, or deny reality. Why would you call your lover’s old phone if you knew she was no longer here? He was desperate, but he wouldn’t allow himself to go that far, because maybe he’d go over the edge and never return.

But tonight, with this call, his life was about to change.

The dial tone wasn’t a U.S. ring; it sounded European. A forwarded number. He’d have someone look into that later, but he heard a click, then another double click, then the beginnings of a recording, which was shut off. At last, he heard the voice he thought he’d never hear again.

“Moira?”

“Oh my God, Dimitri. My love. Can you forgive me?”

“What do I forgive you for?”

“For not telling you the truth. You got my note, or Jordan found you?”

“Both. Where are you?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

He felt really dumb about this. “I never asked. I was listening to everything he told me. Listen—do you have time? Is this okay?”

“Yes, it’s safe but not for long. We have to be quick. Under thirty seconds.”

“I’m here, Moira. Can I help?”

“Oh yes, my love, yes.”

He felt the brittleness of her timbre. Different than lying. She was downplaying the danger she was in. Trying not to panic him.

“How?”

“The picture on the note. You still have it?”

“I do.”

“You have both of them?”

“I have both, yes.”

“Peel off the picture and underneath I wrote the address. Come to Capri. We’re all in Capri. Hiding. Well, hiding in plain sight. We can’t leave.”

“Are you in danger?”

“I am. But my parents and my sister and brother more than I. We think we’re about to be arrested.”

“What do they want?”

“I’ll explain it when I see you. Come soon. Call me tomorrow, seven p.m.”

“But Moira, why didn’t you—”

The phone cut off. He tried to text his question, but the service didn’t allow texts and came back with an error message. He made sure he erased his attempt. He took a picture of the screen listing of the call on his father’s phone and then erased all evidence of the activity.

He asked the question anyway. Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you keep part of your life a secret from me? Do you not trust me? And the most important one for today:

Do you still love me?