All Through the Night (13 page)

TWENTY-ONE

T
he magic remained with them on the ride back to her town house. Tatyana rode with her head resting on the seat back, so relaxed her eyes glittered half shut in the streetlights. She spoke only to give directions. The security guard at the entrance must have recognized the sound of her car, because the gate swung open before Wayne turned off the highway. She did not stir until Wayne pulled into the parking space and cut the motor. “You don’t mind driving yourself home?”

“That has to be a joke, right?”

She kept hold of her little smile as he rose and went around to open her door. As they walked the path of pale bricks, she asked, “Any thoughts about what happened today?”

“Tell the truth, it’s been nice to step away from it for a while.”

She did not disagree. “I’m supposed to speak with Easton tomorrow. I just wish I had something to tell him.”

“You do. Just no answers.”

Wayne assumed she spoke about business to re-orient herself away from what had just happened at the club. He minded, but he knew it was futile to object.

Which made what happened next doubly surprising.

She stepped up on the broad stair that made the front-door landing, bringing her to almost eye level. “I’d forgotten how nice it was to walk close to someone taller and stronger than me.”

For once, Wayne had the right words there at the ready. Perhaps on account of how his heart had suddenly leapt into hyperdrive. “Taller, maybe. But definitely not stronger.”

He knew he had done well when she leaned forward and kissed him. Then touched his lips as she drew back, sealing inside both the kiss and anything he might have said to spoil the moment.

He stood there a long moment after she had vanished inside the house. Waiting until his world stopped rocking.

Wayne made his own coffee the next morning. Which was good, as it gave him time alone to get his head around the dream.

The vile apparition had come again. Only this time with differences.

Wayne was still a little too rocked by the images rattling inside his brain to be certain, but standing on his front porch with a steaming mug in his right hand, it seemed that any change was good. Even one this extraordinary.

The dream had started in normal fashion. He’d been walking the ridgeline, up above the eagles. Almost able to touch the sun. A place so alien it was hard to call it Earth. Only this time, he had been
aware
that he had been dreaming.
Aware
that this was a memory twisted by pain and regret and guilt.
Aware
that in the next moment his squad would be hit by two incoming RPGs. One of which would take out his best buddies. The other fragging him in the thigh and shoulder.
Aware
that he’d wake up in a sweat, heaving for breath, almost sick to his stomach with remorse.

Then the strangeness had intensified.

He looked to his left. The side from which the shoulder-fired missile had been launched. And instead of the streaking trail and the rushing dot of death, he had seen only sky. Then a figure had appeared. One walking in line with him. Only it had not been the other guy on left point. Oh no.

The guy walking there on the ridgeline’s far side had been the stranger. Tall, dark as onyx. Hard as a major calling his troops out on review. The stranger had looked at him.

And Wayne had woken up.

No heaving chest. No sweats. No guilt. Nothing.

Except for the whisper of a voice, the final tendril of a dream that had already weirded him out. The voice said one word.
“Choose.”

The rain had started while he was asleep. The morning was made timeless by its wet grey sheath. Wayne returned inside to recharge his mug. The AC purred softly, drying out the cottage’s air. The clock above the stove read half past eight. Which was strange for two reasons. First, it meant the nightmare had come long after dawn. And second, the boys were late. But the dream impacted him so hard, Wayne was midway through his second mug before he realized the four-wheeled reason why he was still alone.

He wore stone-washed jeans and a sweatshirt with the sleeves cut out. He slipped his bare feet into a pair of rubber-soled boat shoes and padded down the rain-washed lane. The wind blew off the eastern water and carried a strong flavor of sea salt. He saw Julio standing on Victoria’s porch and slowed enough to ask, “You doing okay?”

The kid did not have his arms crossed so much as clutched across his chest. “Quiet.”

“Why don’t you come over, I’ll fix us some breakfast.”

Victoria chose that moment to appear. “Julio has kindly offered to walk me to the Saturday chapel service. I can’t hold the umbrella against this wind. Why don’t you join us?”

Wayne had a number of reasons not to. And seeing that it was Victoria doing the asking, he also knew no excuse was required.

Maybe it was the dream. Maybe the sight of the kid rocking back and forth slightly and clutching his upper body. Maybe the reason didn’t matter.

What he said was, “I’d like that.”

Her smile conflicted with the grey day. “You’d best hurry. We’re already late.”

“Be right with you.” He strode over to where Foster and Jerry sat on Jerry’s front porch. Wayne said, “It’s okay, guys. You can go on over.”

Foster spoke to him but was watching Wayne’s cottage. “We’re just fine where we are.”

“Tatyana isn’t here.”

Jerry asked, “The lady gave you her wheels?”

“She didn’t feel like making the drive.”

“She gave you a hundred-thousand-dollar car because she was wore out?”

Wayne turned to where the car sat in the corner space, just visible between the cottages. “That pretty much sums it up.”

Jerry pushed open his screen door. “All I got to say is, she must see something in you that I don’t.”

“It’s not like that.”

“I don’t know what you two are talking about and I don’t care.” Foster didn’t actually creak as he entered the wet. But he moved like he should have. “What I want to hear is, when are you taking me for a ride?”

“Later.” Wayne turned toward the community center. “I’ve got to do something first.”

Wayne caught up with Victoria and Julio when they were approaching the parking lot. “Can I have a minute?”

“For a handsome man like you, I can certainly spare longer than that. I’ve been late for chapel before.” Victoria’s gaze was as penetrating as it was sweet. Julio, however, took the time out to gape at the Ferrari. Then back at Wayne. From the car to the guy and back and then over to the cottage. Wayne refrained from telling the kid Tatyana was not there. Julio probably wouldn’t have believed him, and he didn’t want to go down that road just then anyway.

Wayne had mentally worked through a couple of scenarios. As in, how to lead around to the topic without sounding totally bogus. But the day was damp and the wind splattered stray raindrops on Victoria’s dress. Wayne decided this was no time to tango partway. “I was wondering what you could tell me about angels.”

At that point, Julio’s eyes came off the car and the cottage to fasten intently upon him.

“Ah. Is this about the incident with that very nice gentleman, what is his name?”

“Easton Grey. And no, or …well, partly.”

“Partly yes and partly no. Does this mean you have something of a more personal nature that has you wondering about angels?”

The way she said it, the calm nature of her voice, left him able to say, “I sure wish I knew.”

“How remarkable.” Victoria used a gentle nudge on Julio’s arm to start them moving toward the center. “Well, the answer is as simple or as complicated as anything else about the universe of faith.”

“That sounds like the kind of answer I’d get from my sister.”

“Then she is wise beyond her years. Understanding what I have to say about heavenly hosts will depend upon sharing a faith in our Lord. Do you see where I am going with this?”

“If I don’t believe in God, your answers won’t mean a lot.” Wayne felt the dream’s final whisper fall with the rain.
Choose.

Victoria’s smile cut through the wet. “Why don’t you start seeking answers from the only One who can give them?”

Wayne left the church alone. Victoria and Julio remained seated in the pew. Julio looked miserable, but something in the way he sat hunched slightly toward the old woman gave Wayne the impression Julio did not want to leave just yet. Wayne exchanged greetings with a number of people, then felt eyes on him. He scouted around until he spotted Holly Reeves watching him. The community director’s expression matched the rain and the grim sky.

The wind had picked up while he was inside. Wayne took the umbrella from an old man’s hands and did his best to shelter the couple, she on the walker and he not much steadier on his pins. Wayne liked how they thanked him quietly and just let him go. Not that he was being taken for granted. Rather, like he was a part of their community. He was a friend. Of course he helped where he could.

When he returned back down the lane he saw Julio holding the umbrella as Victoria used the rail and the doorjamb to climb her own front steps. Julio nodded at something she said and headed back to the center. Wayne followed behind him. Julio used his umbrella to shelter Harry and his wife. Wayne took aim at a pair of ladies, one in a wheelchair and the other on two canes, both of them in dime-store ponchos. He knew they had stood there waiting for him, hoping without saying anything that he would come back again. Holly was at her desk but with the office door open. She watched him come and go that second time without speaking or nodding.

The ladies lived at the community’s far corner. He refused their offer of coffee and a towel, and started back to find Julio waiting for him. The kid held the umbrella shut on one shoulder, ignoring the rain. Wayne agreed. Trying to keep the old people dry had left him too drenched to care.

Julio fell into step beside him but did not speak. Their footsteps squished across the puddles. The rain whooshed through the palms and the live oaks, rustling branches and granting them a stormy isolation. Where the lane ran between the cottages fronting the water and the bay, Julio said, “
No temer.
You know what that means?”

“No fear.”

“I hear that all the time. Like, you want to be respected, you gotta be hard. Never show no fear. Not to nobody. But inside …”

“Every time I saw action,” Wayne said to the wind and the rain, “I was scared. Sick to my guts scared.”

Julio walked with his head so far forward his dripping hair hid his face. “That old lady, she don’t weigh nothing. You know? She’s so tiny, I could throw her through the wall with one hand. But she ain’t scared of
nothing
, man. I tell her something, and all she does is …” Julio lifted thick hands and shrugged.

“She’s been through some dark times,” Wayne agreed. “She knows what it can be like.”

“No man, it’s more. A lot more. She, I don’t know …”

Wayne nodded, and when he realized Julio could not see the gesture, said, “I understand.”

Wayne’s kitchen window squeaked. Jerry poked his head out. He gave Julio the cop’s stare, but said to Wayne, “Lunch is on the table.”

Wayne waved acknowledgment. No doubt Julio noticed the exchange but gave no sign. Wayne said, “Why don’t you get into some dry clothes and join us.”