Page 30 of S.O.S. Mizzay

“Wow,” Cobble marveled. “And you ladies?” Cobble turned his attention to Missy’s sisters-in-law.

Bevvy spoke first. “Well, I’m a research scientist at one of the colleges where Theo works. I currently have a grant to study the effects of climate change on the local flora,” she told him. “And Sue…”

“I work for a nonprofit in town that takes in stray and abused animals.” Sue reached down and patted the head of one of the bullmastiffs. “That’s where these guys came from when they were puppies.”

Cobble blinked twice and looked around at them all. “I’m…blown away. I have to say, when we first drove up, I…” he trailed off, at a loss for words.

“…you thought we might be crazy, gun-toting hillbillies?” Nik supplied, laughingly. “You’re close, but you can amend that a bit. Maybe say, rednecks on steroids.”

Everyone laughed.

The conversation went on for another half hour, with Missy’s family educating Cobble on how their current situation came to be. They’d learned—from the history of their birth country’s civil unrest—that things could go to hell in even the most settled of countries, so they wanted to be prepared.

By the time the conversation finally wound down, Cobble knew everything he needed to know about Missy’s highly educated, but extremely cautious family.

“I think it’s time to call it a night,” her father eventually announced. “Honey, would you like to show Cobble to the room that will be his for the duration?”

Missy’s mom shook her head and gave Missy a pointed glance. “Uh, uh. One of the boys can do it,” she said, getting to her feet and picking up Cobble’s empty bowl. She gestured with her chin for Missy to grab her own. “I want to have a few words with my daughter in the kitchen.”

There were teasing “oohs” from her brothers, but they got back-of-the-head smacks from their wives, and fell in line before urging Cobble to accompany them down the hall.

Missy was under no illusions that her mother wasn’t about to rip her a new one for putting her future self in danger.

She did as she was told, however, taking the gallows’ march into the kitchen.

“Mom, I—”

“You like him, don’t you.” Her mother made a statement Missy wasn’t expecting, rather than lighting into her about going to Africa.

Missy, taken aback that the conversation hadn’t gone where she’d predicted, took a minute to regroup.

But she couldn’t lie to her mother.

“Yeah. I do,” she admitted. “I have…foolish dreams where I think he’s the one.”

Her mother nodded sagely. “I understand. And not to worry, my sweet girl. He likes you, too,” Eleni said with certainty.

“He…? You think?” Missy asked, desperate for this second opinion.

To Missy, it had seemed at times during her brief interactions with Cobble, that they had a special connection. But she hadn’t known if—in her fancies—she’d been making it all up in her head.

“Oh, yes. That boy has eyes for you,” her mother assured her. “I can see it plainly.”

Missy gave a huge sigh; part relief, and part frustration. “That’s good, but the problem is, Mom, he’s a job. I can’t let him know how I feel until we can find all the players involved in this cluster fuck who are trying to kill him.”

“Why?” Eleni asked offhandedly while she rinsed out the bowls in the sink.

“Uh…because?” Missy replied, caught out at being challenged over her…what?

Ethics?

Right.

That was a great question. Was it ethics that kept Missy from acting on her feelings, or was it fear? Fear that Cobble wouldn’treturn her sentiments. Or that if he did, something would happen and one or both of them would be killed; taken before they’d even explored what could be between them?

Missy huffed, pretty much still ignoring her mother’s one word question.

“You know,” Missy rationalized, “this debacle has already been going on for nearly five years. Even if I told Cobble how I feel, with how infrequently we are able to see each other, how long do you think he’ll stay interested if this drags on ad infinitum?” she lamented.

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