Page 25 of Sheltering Lily

So the talk between me and Lily was inevitable. I would try to persuade Lily to stay with us. But ultimately, if she insisted, I would let her go sooner rather than later. That would be better than her walking out on us down the road when she became dissatisfied. My mother had done that, gone to the grocery store when I was in the first grade and never came home. I wouldn’t subject Sofia to that.

Or myself, I admitted. I couldn’t live with the idea that the woman I loved might be with me one day and gone the next. And, I’d come to realize in the past weeks, I did love Lily. I loved everything about her, from her dark-rimmed glasses and the pink polish on her toes to her quick wit and easy laugh. I’d been with other women, of course, but I’d never crossed the line between having fun and wanting more. I wanted it all with Lily: a life and family together, more kids, holiday traditions, backyard barbeques. The perfect existence I’d dreamed about back when I was a kid.

But even if I couldn’t have that with Lily, I could at least make her life better by dealing with her stalker problem. My blood pressure had risen steadily when she told me about the conversation she’d overheard between Stout and his companion. Stout wasn’t going to touch Lily while she was with me—not ever, if I had anything to do with it. I’d considered filing a police report, but there wasn’t enough to go on. He hadn’t directly threatened her, and there didn’t seem to be enough grounds for a restraining order. She had no identifying information for the other man and no proof they were speaking about her.

I scrubbed a hand over my face and reached to open the truck door. Through the rain-streaked windshield, I spotted the man I’d seen with John Stout at Lily’s apartment building and again here at the diner weeks ago—the man who’d looked familiar. He was getting out of a late-model American-made sedan.

I took a minute to study the man’s profile, and suddenly it clicked. I knew that face from a mission I’d been on in South America. The man was, or had been, a DEA agent who’d been assigned as a liaison to another SEAL term. I had crossed paths with him two or three times during the mission. Since I had never had a personal conversation with him, for all I knew, the DEA agent was from my hometown.

I decided to wait and watch. After a furtive look around, the DEA agent walked to a gray Camry and got in.

“Son of a bitch,” I muttered, squinting at the car. Sure enough, John Stout sat behind the wheel. Now, what would a DEA agent be doing with a scumbag like Stout? Was Stout an informant? Was the DEA agent undercover? He was sure acting nervous, his attention constantly darting around the lot.

Was Stout who the agent had been waiting for when I saw him in the diner? There must be some logical reason for a federal agent to be in contact with a creep. Of course, there was a sinister possibility: the agent might be dirty. What if he was the stranger in the conversation Lily had overheard?

Call it a SEAL’s intuition, but I had a bad vibe about this. Moving subtly, I pulled my phone out and took pictures, documenting both men’s faces and their cars. A few minutes later, the DEA agent returned to his vehicle and both men left the area. Only then did I step from my truck. I was still processing what I observed, running analytically through the possibilities.

I didn’t want to blow an agent’s cover or scare off an informant, so I had to tread lightly. But if the guy was dirty, it could jeopardize the lives of those who served honorably. Not acceptable. I wasn’t the type of man to tolerate that.

12

LILY

Irushed to embrace my Aunt Maddie in the downtown bistro. She had called me a few days before to say she had a few hours between flights and to ask if we could have lunch. I had been delighted and made arrangements for Sofia to spend the time with her cousin Austin, which made everybody happy.

“It’s so good to see you,” I said as we were seated. “It’s been months. I suppose my mother kept you informed on my failed teaching career.”

“Yes, she told me about it. You did the right thing, kiddo. No doubt in my mind.” It didn’t surprise me that Aunt Maddie would see the situation as I did, unlike my parents.

“I think so, too.” I hadn’t regretted my actions, and I was so much happier now that it was clear that getting away from teaching had been a great move. “And I’ve landed in a good spot for now.”

“The nanny job. Your mother told me about the little girl you care for, and I brought something…” Aunt Maddie dug in her tote bag and pulled out a stack of comic books. “Some for you,” she said, “and some toddler-appropriate ones for Sofia. They may still be a bit advanced for her, but they’re fun and colorful, so I thought she might get a kick out of them.”

“That was sweet of you.” I thumbed through the stack, noting they were brand new, some probably not even released yet. What I found fascinating was how the artists’ styles varied. There wasn’t just one way to be a comic book artist. I supposed there wasn’t just one way to do anything.

“So where are you headed?” I asked after we placed orders for drinks and salads.

“A comic convention in Chicago. I’m signing my latest edition.” She tapped the comic on the top of my stack. “Hot off the presses. And I’m leading a discussion about the place of comic books and graphic novels in our modern world. Some people argue it’s a dying genre, but from what I’ve seen, comics are hotter than ever.”

“Especially if they become movies,” I said. The theaters had been full of comic characters brought to life on the big screen. I hadn’t made it to the movies recently, but I tracked the industry, nevertheless.

“That’s the dream, isn’t it? Create something good enough that it catches a producer’s attention.” Aunt Maddie smiled wistfully.

“I don’t understand why no one has made a bid for one of yours.” So many of my aunt’s creations would make excellent movies. “Your work’s amazing.”

She shrugged. “Maybe it’ll happen someday. But until then, I’ve made a good living from it and I’ve got a great readership, so I’ve got nothing to complain about. We’ll talk about the comic world later. Tell me about Sofia and what’s been going on with your life.”

“She’s beautiful, smart, artistic, loving. I can’t believe how well adjusted she is, considering her past.” While we ate, I told my aunt about Sofia’s background and how Colin had adopted her after promising the girl’s mother he’d care for her. I found myself talking a great deal about Colin, too. I didn’t miss my aunt’s raised eyebrow. Maddie had questions about my relationship with Colin, I had no doubt, but I wasn’t quite willing to confess the depth of our connection because, in truth, it scared me.

“So you’ve landed in a good place.” She repeated my words from earlier while we waited for dessert and coffee.

“Definitely,” I agreed. Living in Colin’s house, being his lover, caring for Sofia fulfilled me in a way I hadn’t expected. I was still figuring out what I wanted for my future professionally, but I’d been surprisingly content in the past months.

“I’m glad for you, and I don’t mean to tempt you away if you’ve found your passion, but I recently learned of an opportunity you might be interested in.” Aunt Maddie scooped up a spoonful of her chocolate mousse, allowing a moment of drama to play out.

“What is it?” I was instantly alert.

“A comic artist who publishes with the same company as me has a paid internship spot coming available in New York City. I mentioned that I might know someone who would be interested. I told them about you, and I think the position could be yours if you want it.”

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