Page 6 of Gator's Gambit
“Yes, I’d like to ride with you. I’ll call my husband to meet us there, on the way,” she replies.
As they’re loading me into the vehicle, I look out at the small crowd that’s gathered in the parking lot and see a familiar face staring back at me. I blink, thinking I must be hallucinating, and when I look back, he’s gone. God help me, Imustbe losing my mind. I imagine his face everywhere.
2
GATOR
The impact of seeing Fancy for the first time in years is deep and immediate. I’ve had a soft spot for her since we were children but, as the clichéd best friend’s sibling, it never felt right to make a move when we were teenagers. Now that we’re older, I don’t have a problem with the concept, I just don’t know how she feels anymore.
So much has changed since we were young and living at home. We’ve gone in different directions, grown up, and changed. Change is inevitable when you do what I do for a living. The things we see and do, it can’t help but impact you negatively.
That’s the reason I’ve stayed away. I knew Fancy was home – in a small town like ours, everyone knows everyone else’s business. Mama told me she’d come home a couple weeks back, but I stayed away because Fancy’s a sensitive soul; she always has been. She knows things, senses things, and I don’t want to taint her with the ugliness of my world.
I’m not sure what it is about this last mission that plagues me, but seeing Hot Sauce lying on the ground, pale and still, his face young and innocent-looking – something about that haunts my dreams.
But now that I’ve seen her, I’m struggling to stay away. There’s always been something about Fancy that calls to me. Somehow, she soothes the demons and quiets the voices. I’ve never told anyone, but I once drove the nearly three hours to San Francisco to see her only to sit outside her store.
I couldn’t make myself get out of the vehicle, so I drove all the way back without going in to say hi. And here I am again, standing outside her parents’ house, working up the nerve to knock on the door while shifting the Dunkin’ bag from one hand to the other. I don’t even remember being this nervous before my first mission.
In the end, I don’t get a chance to knock. Unexpectedly, the door opens, and a heavily bandaged Fancy is standing on the other side. “Planning on standing there all day, or are you coming in?”
“Nah, I thought I’d just stand here and make the place look untidy. Thanks for the offer though.”
As hoped, Fancy laughs. “Get in here, you big lug. The neighbors are going to start talking if you stand here lurking on the porch all day.”
The scent of her perfume – something light and bright, just like her – tantalizes my nose as I take a step past her and into the house. “Oh hello, Godric. It’s lovely to see you again, my boy,” Fancy’s mama greets as we make our way down the hall toward the backyard. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“That would be wonderful, thank you, Mrs. Gilmore. Something cold if you have, please.”
“Some iced tea coming right up then.” When she smiles, it’s easy to see where Fancy gets her beauty and her infectious smile from.
“We’ll be out back, Mama.”
It’s clear to see Fancy’s stiff and in pain as she shuffles down the hall and out onto the back porch. She gazes longingly atthe swing for a beat or two, then shuffles over to one of the armchairs, lowering herself gingerly onto the seat.
“How are you feeling today?”
“Sorry for myself,” she replies with that laugh of hers that draws people to her. “But nothing’s broken, other than skin, so there’s that at least. I’ll live, I’m told.” Despite the pain she must be going through with all those wounds from her fall, as always, Fancy is her usual happy self. As I study her, though, there’s shadows in her eyes that whisper of secrets and fear.
Before I can ask, Mrs. Gilmore arrives with our drinks, and the opportunity is lost. She fusses over Fancy a bit, then excuses herself and leaves us to visit.
“So, what brings you home?” we ask at the same time, then crack up laughing.
“You first,” she says.
“I have some downtime after a mission a few weeks ago, so I thought I’d come home and see Mama and the girls. I haven’t been home in a while, so here I am. How about you?”
“Same. Well – not the mission bit, but not being home in a while.”
I don’t know why it feels like there’s a lot she’s leaving out, but I hesitate to push for more, not sure I have the right to dig for answers. In the end though, I decide to leave things. I’ll be gone soon and have no idea when I’ll see her again. Best to leave things as they are.
“So what are you up to these days? Still out in San Francisco?”
“Yeah. I love it out there. I’m in no rush to leave.”
I feel something soft and warm brush up against my leg and look down to find a gorgeous, fluffy black cat with strangely intelligent eyes sitting at my feet. “Hello, beautiful. Where’d you come from?”
“That’s Milly,” Fancy says. “She’s waiting for you to pick her up.”
