Chapter 12

Thanksgiving brought a houseful to the Marino family home. They arrived Wednesday night, as expected. Nick sat at the table cutting up bread with his sons Ryan and Jamie, chatting amiably. “Hey, Gabe, get me another loaf from the fridge, would you?”

“Get it yourself,” Gabe grumbled. “I’m finishing up these vegetables.”

“Uncle Gabe, why are you in a bad mood today?” This from Jamie.

Nick was about to hush Jamie when Declan entered the room. He was the last to show up. His face was full of thunderclouds.

Ryan asked, “Hey Uncle Declan. Are the girls in the living room?”

“The girls aren’t coming.” His tone was sour as he yanked open the fridge and took out a beer. He popped the top with lethal force.

“First Simon isn’t comin’ and now them.” Jamie pouted. “No fair.”

“My sentiments exactly.” This from Dec.

“Why, Uncle Dec?” Ryan’s tone was softer, regretful.

“Their mother flew in from the Middle East and wanted them for the long weekend.”

“Lila could have come, son.” This from Mama, who was always the peacemaker, and believed any marriage could be saved. She was stirring something on the stove but attuned to everything going on with her boys.

“I offered that,” Dec continued. “She said to tell you she would have come, but her mother’s in town, too. And nobody preempts that woman.”

Whitney, who’d gone out for a run, entered through the garage door, dressed in sweats, with earbuds hanging around her neck. She approached her cousin and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Hey, Dec. Just get here?”

“Yeah.” He explained the situation with his ex-wife. “So I’m here alone.”

Together, she and Gabe groused, “Join the club.”

“Max always comes to Thanksgiving.” Declan frowned, protective of his cousin. “Is he on assignment?”

“No, he had other plans. Seems some Secret Service buddies are getting together for a buffet and Max wanted to support them.” She picked up a celery stick that Gabe had cut and added, “I’m bummed. What’s going on with you, Gabe?”

“Nothing.” His scowl was deep. His voice rough. Nick would have tried to get him to open up, but since their fight at dinner that night he’d talked to the president about Gabe, they’d been cold to each other. Isabelle said he should try to make up for their rift, but Nick didn’t believe he was wrong. His wife told him that stubbornness never got anyone anyplace and the Marinos seemed to have cornered the market on that trait.

“Dad, will you play video games with us? Grandma got us the stuff for it.”

“As soon as I finish the bread.”

Connor was next to join them. Freshly showered and dressed in a heavy sweater, he came into the kitchen. He still wasn’t used to the cold upstate winter after spending so much time in the Middle East. His face was also lined with fatigue. Whitney had said some bad things happened to him in Syria but he hadn’t told anyone what they were. Fatigue and sadness showed on his face. “Did I hear something about video games?” he asked, always trying to be upbeat.

“Uncle Connor, will you play with us now?” Jamie asked.

“Sure.” He winked at his nephew. “That way, I don’t have to help in the kitchen.”

“I’ll come, too,” Whitney told them. “It’ll take my mind off things.”

“And get you out of helping with the food,” Gabe grumbled.

“Don’t be a grump.” With that, Whitney kissed him on the cheek and left.

“Some things never change,” Nick murmured.

His mom took off her apron and turned to her three boys. “Declan and I will be leaving the kitchen now. Seems like you two got problems, and I won’t allow them to ruin our time together. I love you boys, but we’ll have none of this discord in my house.”

Man, they’d heard that dictum before.

Gabe frowned at her.

“Do not come out of this kitchen until you’ve settled whatever’s between you two.” She and Dec left.

Gabe scowled. “What’s she talking about?”

“Damned if I know.”

For a few minutes, Gabe cut vegetables, and the sound of Nick’s knife indicated he was concentrating on his work, too. Gabe was so angry he thought he might explode. He knew he had to release the valve of emotion, so he threw the knife into the sink and braced his hands on the counter. Head down, he didn’t know what to do with the emotion swirling inside him.

Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, buddy. This is more than you and me, isn’t it?”

Choked up by the overture, Gabe nodded.

“Tell me.”

He pivoted. “First, let’s talk about our issue. I can’t say I don’t hate you discussing my career with the president, but I overreacted. And held a grudge.”

Nick leaned back against the fridge. “And I don’t agree I did anything wrong. I was looking out for you. But I promise, Gabe, now that I know how you feel, I’ll never do anything like that again.”

“Then I apologize.”

“I do, too. Now tell me what’s got you tied up in Boy Scout knots.”

Gabe rolled his eyes and jammed his hands in his pockets. “I asked Macy to marry me.”

Nick’s jaw dropped. “What happened?”

“She not only said a flat no, but she doesn’t want to see me for a while. I’ve spent time with Simon but not her.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Gabe heard the undertone in Nick’s comment. “But?”

Nick held up his hand. “No way. I’m not starting another war.”

“I need help, Nick.”

“All right. Promise you won’t get mad.” Promises in the past were always sacred. When Gabe agreed, Nick said, “Let’s get a beer and sit.”

They got brews and dropped down at the table that had seen the sight of so many happy times.

“Why’d you ask her?”

“Because I’m crazy in love with her. I want to be Simon’s father. And—”

“And?”

“I’m afraid I’m going to lose her when I go back to the PPD.”

“She can’t handle you going back?”

He raked a hand through his hair. “Apparently not.”

“Do you think she should try, after what happened to her with Spike?”

“If she doesn’t, we’re not going to be together. So how’s that different from losing me if something happens?”

“You won’t be dead. And if she loves you back, which I think she does, she couldn’t bear that.”

“And there’s the waiting and worrying.” Gabe stared ahead for a long time. “What the hell was I thinking?”

“You weren’t. Thinking. Man, I wish there was a way for you two to stay together.”

“Can you see one, Nick?”

“Not if you take the PPD. On the other hand, you’d probably resent the hell out of her and the life you chose if you don’t accept the top job.”

“Then I have no choice but to give her up.”

“And learn to live with that.”

* * *

Declan felt like he was picking his way through minefields as he folded napkins with his mother in the dining room for tomorrow’s dinner. The explosion was ready to detonate. Mama kept her opinions to herself and they worked in silence. Pa was in the den reading.

Finally, he threw the napkin down. “What a mess.”

His mom asked, “What is, honey?”

“You know. You’re just too nice to bring it up.”

“You’re missing Lila and the girls.”

“The girls anyway.”

“I think you miss your wife, too.”

“Ex-wife.”

“Which is a shame.”

“You’re Catholic, Mama. I know you don’t believe in divorce.”

“It’s more than that. There are circumstances where a couple should divorce. But not you two. You were high school sweethearts. Stayed together when you went to college. Then you decided to join the army with her, and things went to pot.”

His head snapped up. “Mama, Pa was in Vietnam. We have a duty to serve our country.”

“I understand. But that’s when things got messed up with you two.”

“I think it was more after we had kids.”

“Maybe. It’s still a shame.”

He waited a bit. “I’m going again.”

His mother stiffened. “When?”

“Right after Thanksgiving. It’s a short assignment for the special unit I’m in and I’ll be back for Christmas.”

“Do you know, Dec, that your father and I have had to worry about all five of you putting yourselves in danger all your adult lives?”

He stopped. “Yeah.”

“And we control the fear.”

“I hear you. I’m sorry I’m bitching at you.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m going home. I’m rotten company anyway.”

“Don’t go away in anger.”

He stood and drew his mother out of the chair. “Never,” he said hugging her. “I love you, Mama.”

“I love you too, Declan darlin’.”

* * *

After a few rounds with the video games, Whitney left the boys, climbed to the third floor and closeted herself in her old room. God, had it always been so pink? She punched in Max’s number on speed dial. She didn’t know why she was obsessing over him. They were friends and he wasn’t tied to her in any other way. So what, if he’d never missed a Marino Thanksgiving except that one time he’d had a holiday assignment?

His phone rang. Four times. Then he clicked on. “Hello.”

A female voice. What the hell?

“I’m sorry, I must have the wrong number.” Something made her add, “I’m calling for Max Blackwell.”

“This is his phone. He’s in the shower.”

“The shower?”

“Oh, wait. Here he is.” She heard, “Max, you have a call.”

Whitney heard Max’s voice. “You answered my phone?”

“I mistook it for mine. We have the same ringtone.”

Muffles, then, “This is Max.”

“Max. It’s Whitney.”

“Hi, babe.”

“Who was that?”

“Angela Grimes. We’re both in town alone, so we decided to have dinner tonight. I was late getting home to shower and change, and she met me here.”

“Oh.”

“Anything wrong?”

Yeah, I just can’t put my finger on what. “My brothers are in bad moods. None of the other kids could come, so Nick’s boys are complaining.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Hmm.”

“Hold on a sec.”

Whitney waited.

Back on the phone, he said, “Look, Whit, I have to go. Anything I can do from here?”

“No. No thanks. Talk to you soon.”

When she disconnected, she sat back on the bed and thought about Max. They’d worked together for five years and had been lovers for three. Everything was fine between them. She didn’t know why she’d complained to Gabe about him being away that day at the racquetball court or why she was worrying about his not coming home with her.

Then she remembered the sight of Angela Grimes sitting in the student desk, staring up at Max. And him staring down. There was an intimacy about the tableau that she recognized now.

Oh, my God, was he sleeping with another woman?

* * *

Connor found his cousin in her old room seated on the still-pink spread. She was doing what she always did when she was upset. Retreat.

“What’s going on, Whit?”

She scowled.

“Don’t tell me nothing’s wrong. You were restless downstairs, and now you’re closing yourself off up here.”

“I’m upset, Con, and I don’t even know why.”

“Tell me and we’ll figure it out together.” He motioned to the space. “This is where we always colluded. Decided things. Or were pissed off and vented.”

A small smile. “I know.” She patted the bed. “Sit.” When he did, and they were both resting against the headboard, she took his hand. “I’ll confess. But only if you do so in return.”

“In return?”

“I want to know what’s going on with you. You haven’t been sleeping. I hear you up at night.”

“You first, then.”

“Max didn’t come to Thanksgiving with me.”

“Obviously.”

“I called him. A woman answered his phone.”

“I’m surprised. You said you two weren’t seeing other people while you were together.”

“We agreed to that.”

“So maybe it’s innocent.”

“She answered his phone while he was in the shower.”

“Ah.”

“I trust him to keep his word, Con. I have to, given how we’re tied professionally. But this doesn’t feel right.”

“No, it doesn’t. You need to ask him what’s going on.”

She snorted. “Duh! Of course I will.”

He laughed. When they were little and afraid at night, she’d be the one to get up and go to the closet, where they thought a monster might be hiding, and throw open the door.

“Well, good. You’ll clear the air.” He squeezed her hand. “You know he cares about you. He wouldn’t hurt you this way.”

“I guess.”

“But I have some advice.”

“Tell me.”

“If you’re this concerned with what he’s doing with another woman, maybe your feelings are deeper than you’re admitting.”

“Gabe said the same thing when I told him about me and Max.”

“Promise you’ll give this a lot of thought. And tell him the truth about whatever you come up with.”

“I promise.” She angled herself on the bed so she could see him better. “Now you.”

He sighed.

“I know you came back from Syria because you couldn’t stay there anymore given what happened with Calla.” Connor had fallen in love over there with another doctor, Calla Gentileschi, and it ended disastrously. “Is that what’s getting to you?”

“Sort of. We spent last Thanksgiving together. In this little town that was away from the shelling. I miss her, Whit. More than I could ever have imagined.”

“I’m sorry. It’s over, though. You know that.”

“I know. I thought being home would make me feel better.”

“Why don’t you come to D.C. for a while? Stay with me. We can hang. Talk. It always made us feel better to do that.”

“Maybe I will.” Leaning over he kissed her nose. “After you get all this straightened out with Max.”

“It’s a deal, buddy.”

* * *

Macy, Joanie and Simon traveled to the Mall early on Thanksgiving Day. The sun had come out, allowing warm rays to beat down upon them. Scattered around the grassy area were monuments to a variety of wars. Seeing the evidence of people who gave their lives for their country made Macy think of Spike, who had done the same on the home front.

Beside her, Simon spoke. “I wish he hadn’t died.”

Macy slid her arm around Simon and caught Joanie’s gaze. “Me, too.” Although their marriage had problems, she’d loved Spike, intensely and wholly, at least for the first few years.

Her son stood. “Can I go get a pretzel?” A vendor within sight distance had set up early.

“Yep.” She gave him money.

“You two want anything?”

Simon was really growing up. “How nice of you to ask.”

“Gabe said I gotta be nicer to people.”

“Gabe’s wise.” This from Joanie.

When Simon left, her sister slid across the bench. “He’s better.”

“Gabe’s worked miracles with him.”

“I rest my case.”

As they’d sat in that puddle on the floor, Joanie had told her that she had to make a decision about Gabe. And Macy had been shocked at her advice…

“Mace, you aren’t functioning without him. You’re miserable. You have to decide either way, then stick to whatever choice you make. And though you didn’t ask, my vote is to give your relationship a shot.”

Macy had gotten angry, then cried again. How could she risk losing him to some lunatic’s bullet?

“You know,” Joanie began again. “A person can get hurt or die anytime in life. But even more so, you might not have to worry about him for long. Gabe’s forty-five, so maybe he’ll only be on the PPD for a few years.”

“What about Simon? He’d be inconsolable if something happens to Gabe.”

“He’s miserable now. He’s trying, I’ll give him credit, but he wanted like hell to go with Gabe for Thanksgiving.”

“I know. I can’t believe he overheard me on the phone.” Gabe had asked her one last time before he left for Lakeville, and they’d had harsh words.

“It’s hard to say all this to you, Mace. But you can’t live in limbo any longer.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re right. It’s decision time, one way or another.”

Simon returned with a steaming-hot pretzel smelling of fresh dough. Macy’s stomach growled. “I guess I’m hungry, too.”

“Let’s go back to your house, Aunt Joanie. We gotta be at Joey’s by six.”

Simon had been invited to stay overnight at his friend’s house. In the last month, he and Joey had been spending a lot of time together, and Macy insisted they have some of their play dates at her house, too. Tonight, Joey’s parents were taking them to the new Star Trek movie and then the boys were having a sleepover at their home.

And Macy would be alone.

Suddenly it hit her. She’d be alone the rest of her life if she refused to accept Gabe no matter what the circumstances. She knew in her heart that she’d never fall in love again.

* * *

Stuffed like the turkey they’d eaten, Gabe had headed to the den and stretched out on the couch. The guys and Whitney settled into the living room watching the traditional Thanksgiving football, and Mama and Isabelle had gone for a walk. He was watching a political news report about the refugees in Syria. He wondered if Connor would go back there. He hoped not.

The newscaster was droning on about the crisis, but Gabe’s mind wandered. He wondered where Macy was now. Did she and Joanie and Simon have a good time in D.C.? At their own festivities, Gabe had missed her so much he hurt inside. He hated what they were doing to each other.

Pa came to the doorway. “You watching that TV?”

“Yeah, sure.”

His father’s expression was knowing. “You were a million miles away.”

Gabe rolled his eyes. “I was.”

Pa came inside and dropped down on a chair. His age showed on his lined face, but there had always been a youthfulness about him, a stamina that Gabe had depended on. “That Macy Stevens have anything to do with your mood?”

“How do you know about Macy? Did I talk about her?”

“On other occasions. And you were in a foul mood when you came and made some remarks about being alone.”

“I shouldn’t let myself be grumpy when I’m here.”

Pa’s gray eyebrows knitted. “We’d rather have you that way than not at all. For a long time, you didn’t come home.”

“Because I was miserable.”

“You need your family when you’re out of sorts, son.”

He didn’t respond.

“You know that job you’re taking at the White House?”

A non sequitur.

“Uh-huh?”

“You don’t have to prove anything to anybody. And in case I’m not clear, you didn’t do anything wrong in Colombia.” When Gabe started to protest, Pa held up his hand. “No, hear me out. You been trying to be Superman since then, and it paid off by getting you what you wanted. But you got all this mixed-up in your head. The only person you have to prove anything to is yourself. Otherwise, you’re gonna be lonely as hell.”

Gabe sighed deeply. Before he could respond, Pa stood. “Don’t stay too long down here and wallow in self-pity.”

Angry at himself, he glanced at his watch. Maryland was six hours from here. If he left now, he could see her tonight. Simon had texted him he had a sleepover.

He guessed two in the morning was better than nothing.

* * *

A ringing. Muffled. Macy rolled over in bed. Darkness enveloped the room; she checked the red digits on the clock. Two a.m. What the hell? Then, “Oh no, Simon.” She grabbed up her cell. “Hello.”

“It’s Gabe.”

Her heartbeat slowed. “Gabe. I was afraid something was wrong with Simon.”

“I didn’t know how else to do this. I knew you’d get afraid for Simon either way if I knocked or called.”

“I’m glad— What do you mean knocked?”

“I’m outside your door.”

“Oh, my God.” Macy threw off the covers and bounded out of bed. She raced down the hall and through the living room. When she dragged open the door and saw him standing there, she flung herself at him.

He grabbed her and held on tight. “Macy.”

She kissed him on the lips. Ran her hands through his hair, clung to his neck. When she stopped she said, “I’ve been miserable.”

“Me, too. Pa metaphorically kicked my butt all the way back here.”

“I’m so glad.”

“Let me in. It’s freezing out here and you’ve got precious little on.”

Once he was inside, he picked her up, brought her to the couch and settled her on his lap. He grabbed the fuzzy blanket on the back to cover her. She burrowed into him, inhaling his scent, feeling his muscles. And Macy knew this was where she belonged. “I love you,” she said.

The words were manna from heaven. “I love you, just as much. And I’m here to tell you, Mace, I’m not letting you go.”

“I came to the same conclusion.”

“We’ll find a way. I won’t go on the PPD.”

She pulled back. “You don’t have to do that for us to be together.”

He scowled. “What are you talking about?”

“I decided, after some tough love from Joanie, that you have a right to follow your dreams without having to choose between them and me.”

“I don’t understand. I thought you wanted me to pass it up.”

“I did. But I’ve come to see things differently. You’d be torn all your life, Gabe, if we didn’t give it a try your way.”

“Wow, I never expected this.” He could have both her and Simon and the PPD. Why had God smiled on him so?

And why didn’t he feel elated that he’d just gotten everything he wanted in the world?