Campbell_Book One

Chapter 15




May 2002

Campbell



“I think he likes me,” Cara whispered to Lucy as they sat together on the porch while the boys played a most rudimentary game of tackle football. “Bull’s friend.”

Lucy looked at the boy who’d just knocked Cole to the ground, and then at her former classmate. “Why?”

“He keeps looking at me and then he does something stupid—” Lucy’s friend winced as Andrew Campbell flattened him. “Like he’s distracted.”

Cara was a chubby girl, the kind of plump people picked on when one was eleven or twelve, when they were picking on people for everything, but would probably vanish with a growth spurt. Lucy had never picked on her, and instead found herself fascinated by her curvy figure and beautiful curly strawberry blonde hair, which was in sharp contrast to her own straight dark ponytail. She had breasts too, Cara did, and they were something Lucy desperately hoped she’d have one day. She checked the mirror in the bathroom almost every morning, and although her chest no longer matched her twin’s, she knew she had a long way to go before she caught up with most of the girls her age. Lucy found herself quite enamored with Cara, and more than once had imagined what the response would be if she kissed her. She hadn’t thought of girls like that besides Cara, but in her imagination, it was nice.

“Do you like him?”

Cara looked out at the boy on the field and Lucy knew if her parents were alive, he was the kind of boy they’d never let into their house. He was a nice boy and he’d been polite in their limited interactions, and if she’d only described those characteristics, she was sure it would have been okay, but there was one thing they wouldn’t overlook. Cara’s parents didn’t like black people. She knew none of the rest of it would matter if they were alive.

“I don’t know. Maybe?” She shrugged. “He’s handsome.”

“He’s okay,” Lucy replied, as Bull came and sat in front of her and rested his arms on her thighs. “You’re done playing?”

“I’m tired. What are you cooking?” He looked at Cara. “Did you make a pie?”

“Cherry, just like you wanted,” she said, beaming. “What’s your friend’s name?”

“Paul Miller,” he said, shooting Lucy a knowing grin. “From Chicago. Why?”

Cara shrugged. “Curious, I guess. He keeps looking at me.”

“Go talk to him then,” Bull said, rolling his eyes. “Why do I have to do everything around here?”

“Because you insist on it,” Lucy joked, as he pulled her to her feet. “I don’t know what’s for dinner. Let’s go look.”

Dinner was had, and later in the evening, as was happening more and more, everyone paired off quickly and the pressure was once again on Lucy to entertain her boyfriend in a way that didn’t involve sex. It was getting harder and harder, especially since she’d turned twelve and a lot of their friends had started doing it. It was when sex came up that she felt it; that sinking feeling in her gut that she was damaged, and broken, and if, even for the briefest moment, she showed someone that, everything she’d built would come tumbling down. The new life she’d begun to build would slip out from underneath her. She’d be the person she was supposed to be, instead of the new one that people found funny, respected, and liked.

“You’re a million miles away, Goose,” Bull said, cocking his head at her on the couch. “What’s the problem?”

“Do you ever feel like you’re a fraud?”

Bull raised his eyebrows. “No. I’m a liar, and a thief, but never a fraud.”

“I don’t think we should be boyfriend and girlfriend. I don’t think I’m who you think I am.” She wrung her hands in her lap and Bull placed his larger one over hers.

“We all get a fresh start now,” he said gently. “I know what I need to know.”

“I don’t,” she replied, her tone brimming over with uncertainty. “Not about anything.”

They both paused at the squeaking sound of someone having sex outside on the porch swing. Lucy sighed. “I won’t even let you touch me.”

He nuzzled her neck with his nose, pressing his lips against her shoulder. “You let me touch you.”

“Not like that,” she shook her head. “And I don’t want to, and you’re going to want that. I’m surprised you don’t already.”

“I’ve already got two kids to take care of,” Bull replied tersely. “I don’t need to think about more. Don’t worry about that.”

Lucy bit her tongue to keep from making a snide comment about how well he was caring for his siblings, coming down to see her on a near-weekly basis. It became very obvious what she needed to do, not only for herself, but for Bull.

“I think we should be friends. For now.” Lucy looked at him out of the corner of her eye and hoped he understood, even if she was unable to explain. “I think it’s better.”

“Fine,” Bull nodded, avoiding her eyes, so she wouldn’t see how bothered he was by her rejection. “Friends.”



September 2012

Grove, Old Oklahoma



“Food’s good, huh?” Bull said to Tal, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye from the dinner line. “Not such a bad place to be.”

“Besides the forced baby-making, yeah,” Tal said coolly, seemingly unimpressed by Bull’s superior physique or the way he seemed to be interjecting himself between Tal and Lucy at every opportunity.

“Everyone’s got their shit. I’m sure you know that better than most.”

Tal glanced at Lucy, who raised her eyebrows at him and gave him a goofy smile. “Yeah, I’m sure you know that too.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Bull said bluntly, sitting down on the grass with his burger. “Because you don’t do your research.”

“Bull, enough,” Lucy said firmly, sitting between them. “Chill. We’ll leave in the morning?

Bull nodded. “I’ve got enough gas jugs to get us home on the back of my truck.”

“Tal, you’ll come back with us, and then we’ll figure out how to get you back to West?” Lucy looked at him apprehensively and wished they had some time to talk, even though she wasn’t sure what she’d say. Being sandwiched between the only two boys she’d ever kissed was surreal. Sorting through her feelings would take time.

“You really want to come back to Campbell?” Bull swivelled his body and cocked his head at Tal. “I thought you’d want to get back to your people. You’ve got a cousin, right?”

“I do,” Tal said, making an effort to sound sincere. “But I would like to finish what we started last week and hammer out our trade agreement. He glanced at Lucy. “We haven’t exactly been in a situation to talk about it.”

“I don’t know why she’s talking to you about anything at all,” Bull muttered, taking a big bite of his burger. “Clearly you’re just a patsy—”

“Jesus, Bull, he came up to offer to help us get Cole back, and he got the shit beat out of him just like I did. If he still wants to help, after all this, I’m happy to take him up on it.” Lucy gave Bull her most terrifying look. “It’s my arrangement to make.”


“Well, I hope you’re right about him,” Bull leaned in and looked at her. “Because if you’re not, he’s going to be very sorry.” He narrowed his eyes at Tal. “You, and everyone you love—”

“Bull, take a f*cking walk,” Lucy hissed.

She knew exactly what his problem was, but it wasn’t something she wanted to discuss. Almost ten years had passed since she’d ended things with him, and for him to get touchy about it with the assumptions he was making didn’t surprise her. It pissed her off though, because he’d said time and time again that he was fine, even happy with the way things were.

What was interesting though, was that after only six hours, Bull was seeing clearly what, for Lucy, was still foggy.

Her old friend took his plate and stomped off, leaving Tal and Lucy sitting on the grass, dinner on their laps.

“He’s…he was worried about me,” she said apologetically. “It’s nothing personal.”

“He’s big enough to kill me. I was worried about me,” Tal laughed nervously. “It’s fine. He doesn’t like me. He doesn’t have to.”

Lucy’s mind flashed back to their earlier conversation in the tent. “It’s better if he does. It…it takes him a while to trust people. He said Connor was strange when he called him to tell him about Juan. Too sympathetic. He doesn’t trust him. If the situation was reversed, I would have been furious if that had happened to the people I sent in peacefully. That’s what’s got him bothered.”

“It wasn’t your fault though.”

“Connor doesn’t know that. Not for sure.” Lucy shook her head. “It’s just a personality conflict.”

“I do want you…I mean, I want to work with you. Like we talked about.” Tal’s face went flush. “It’s still important.”

“It is. And getting Cole back, it’s the most important thing,” she felt her eyes well up. “I need to know he’s okay.”

“I’ll help, however I can.”

Lucy nodded, thinking back on the night before; how she’d felt with him when they were close. “About last night—”

“We were stoned. It’s fine,” Tal replied, without a hint of emotion in his voice.

“Right,” Lucy mumbled, although it wasn’t what she was planning to say at all. “Of course.”

“I’m going to take a walk,” Tal muttered, flashing Lucy a superficial smile. “I guess I’ll see you later.”



***



Tal ambled to the lake past a bunch of kids, who all looked thoroughly f*cked and exhausted, and pulled off his shoes and socks. The cool water felt nice on his feet, and being alone was something he never took for granted. It would be nice to be home, he told himself. Nice to have his own things, and his own house. Showering regularly would be a treat. To have what he needed at his disposal.

He wasn’t sure about anything anymore.

“What if I didn’t go back?” he asked himself out loud. “Where would I go?”

The answer wasn’t obvious. There was the possibility of a new adventure on the horizon, but there wasn’t anywhere he knew he’d be safe, or that would ultimately be more satisfying than the life he had where things were easy, and he was able to have everything he wanted.

“It’s tempting, isn’t it,” Lucy said, sitting down beside him. “To just go and see where you end up.”

He glanced over at her and decided she was as down as he was, which made him feel better. “I’m not sure I’d ever be content.”

“I know I’d never be,” she sighed. “But it’s a nice thought.”

“We never went fishing,” Tal said, as something jumped in the distance. “I think I would have enjoyed that.”

Lucy skipped a rock across the lake, the ripples crossing the fish’s path. “Maybe we should run away together sometime. Go fishing. Pretend we’re those college kids from our trip.”

“I think people would worry.”

“Let them worry,” Lucy said, with a shrug and a grin. “We can just say we got kidnapped again.”

“You can punch me in the face for effect. It’s probably my turn for a black eye,” Tal smiled over at her now-yellowing bruise. “You’re really resilient.”

“I try.”

“Bull is in love with you.”

“He’s not…I’m going to continue to choose to ignore that, just like I’ve been doing for the past ten years.” She reached down and tugged her shoes off. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

“Yeah,” Tal said, chuckling as he pulled his jeans up to his knees and stretched his legs out in front of him, splashing in the shallow water. “Can I look at your books when we’re back in Campbell?”

“It’s not like anyone would ever take me to task on my spending. Why?”

“I want to see how you make your accounting work, if you have kids that need welfare. What percentage of people actually collect. Do you have a plan for maternity leave?”

“Seventy per cent of your last year’s earnings, for up to a year,” Lucy smiled over at him. “We haven’t had large scale applicants yet, but I think we will in the next few years, now that people actually seem to want to have kids. Our reserve can handle a lot though, and I think we can probably increase taxes a couple of points without people getting too upset.”

Tal thought about that in comparison with West. “What’s your unemployment rate?”

“Thirteen and up, under five per cent. Some don’t work full-time, but since it’s a percentage, it all works out.”

Tal turned so he was facing her. “What about long-term disability?”

“It’s a very small program. We provide some financial support, but most is in the form of food and medical vouchers, which we get at a bulk discount from some of the big producers, so it cuts down on costs.”

“What about people who don’t work?”

Lucy shrugged, her eyes gleaming. “They have to have a pretty f*cking good reason or we cut them off.”

“How do you pay administrators like yourself? A salary or a percentage?”

She leaned in. “Salary.”

Tal looked at her thoughtfully. “And that’s okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah. It’s not like we all have a lot of shit we need to buy. I’ve got a house.”

“That’s true.”

“I’ll show you my books, Tal Bauman,” Lucy said, flirtatiously. “But I want to see yours too.”

Tal blinked at her, taken aback by the unexpected way she was looking at him. “I didn’t realize you were….”

“Kidding,” she chuckled, her expression changing. “I love talking numbers because mine are so good. I so rarely get to show them off.”

“I feel like that’s crying out for a joke about your assets,” Tal raised an eyebrow. “Just because you started it.”

Lucy’s face turned serious and Tal wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m being an idiot.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not being realistic. It’s not realistic, what’s happening here.” She nodded between them, her forehead creased with concern. “It’s probably a form of rebellion against my life, which speaks to far deeper issues. I think I like that you’re so wonderfully ordinary, and that you had a nice family, and—”


“Okay,” he said, leaning back away from her to give himself a little space, as he tried to understand what she was getting at, while desperate to avoid her rejection, if only for a little longer. “What happens in the Midwest—”

“Stays in the Midwest. Right.” Lucy nodded, taking a deep breath. “We’ll work together, and we’ll make things better together. For everyone.”

“Except us,” Tal muttered, exhaling a breath he’d been holding. “Are we really going to drive back to Campbell in a pickup truck?”

Lucy grinned and nodded. “I guess so.”

“You’re taking middle. Bull said it’s a stick shift.”

“Great. There’s no irony in that,” she cracked, rising to her feet and moving to add to the space between them. “He wants to stay tonight and leave in the morning.”

“So I guess I’m sleeping in the bush?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Lucy chirped, pulling on her shoes. “We’ll all be fine in the tent.”



***



Later that night, after a lengthy war of words over positioning, Lucy found herself curled up between the only two men in her life that had interested her, and she found herself wondering where the hell her head was. Cole was still gone, somewhere out there likely being hurt and tortured, and selfishly, she’d let her emotions take over and allowed herself to be drawn back into an internal debate she’d long put to rest. It had been a long time since she’d quite happily slapped a label on herself, and it had served her well in a lot of ways.

She knew she’d see Zoey in the next couple of days and she blinked back tears as she stared into the darkness, hoping she’d know what to do when she saw her, when they had a few minutes to talk. She liked women. It wasn’t just Zoey. She wasn’t the first. She probably wouldn’t be the last.

No matter how many time she repeated it in her head, tried to convinced herself, she knew there was more to it, and it was overwhelming to imagine all the changes what she was contemplating could bring.

“Why are you crying?” Bull whispered, rolling over towards her. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just been a rough month, that’s all.” She reached for his face in the dark and brushed his familiar rough cheek and his strong jaw, trying to recall the exact moment when she’d decided it wasn’t for her. “Thanks for coming for me.”

“I need you to come back, and to be you, Goose,” he replied, unusual desperation in his voice. “You’re it. I don’t know how to run things, and no one else does either. Not like you.”

“I’m coming back,” she assured him, stroking his cheek like she had when they were young. “I know I can’t leave the lost boys to their own devices.”

“We need our Wendy-lady,” he said, chuckling low. “Chloe wasn’t happy with me coming here for you. She said it was too romantic.”

“She knows better than that,” Lucy whispered, rolling her eyes. “Can you imagine her here?”

“She would hate this place.”

“Too much fun.” Lucy pulled her hand back, as Bull’s lips brushed her palm, perhaps accidentally. “So, Cole.”

“Cole,” he mumbled, tensing up immediately.

“Tell me?”

She could see the hesitation in his eyes as he determined what to tell her. “Just some new pictures and the same demands. We’ll look at them when we’re back. I didn’t bring them. I wanted to make sure you were okay before we worried about him. He looks like you probably did right after whoever took you was done with you.” His hand reached out to brush her cheek. “He’ll have to be strong.”

“He can be strong sometimes,” Lucy said, though she was unconvinced. “Maybe this will make him strong.”

“Maybe,” Bull whispered doubtfully. “Maybe’ll figure out what he’s made of.”

“Or maybe I really did get the balls in utero,” she said with a sigh.



***



Lucy and Tal stood off in the distance the next morning as Bull said his goodbyes to Red Cloud, each patting the other heartily on the back before Bull climbed into the driver’s seat of his truck and unlocked the passenger door for them.

“Twenty-seven hours back,” he announced. “We’ll stop for a night in Montana.”

“We should make it to Great Falls,” Lucy said with a nod to Tal as she straddled the oversized stick shift awkwardly. “We’ve got friends there. Montana is—”

“Part of Campbell,” Bull interrupted. “Pretty much.”

“Good farms,” Lucy said thoughtfully. “And the sugar beet factory. And Cara and Paul.”

“It’s been a while,” Bull smiled over at her, looking almost sharkish with his pearly white teeth. “I thought of stopping on the way down, but I kept driving because I wanted to make sure you didn’t do anything stupid.”

Tal took in their friendly banter with interest. He still believed, without a shadow of a doubt that Bull was in love with Lucy, but love almost seemed too simplistic when it came to describing their relationship. They finished each other’s sentences. Knew exactly what would make the other laugh. Tal felt like the ultimate third wheel.

“Why are you Goose?” he asked Lucy, when they passed Wichita.

“Because I hate it,” she replied, glancing at Bull with a half grin. “He used to call me Lucy Goose when we were kids.”

“She was always squawking,” he chuckled. “Like she does.”

“Don’t get any ideas,” she glanced at Tal as he smiled at her thoughtfully. “He’s the only one allowed to call me that. Him and his sister.”

The drive to Great Falls was lively. They encountered a roadside house fire, a herd of deer, one of which ended up on the back of the truck by way of Bull’s perfectly executed handgun shot, and a flash rainstorm that forced them to pull over for a half hour until they could see the road. Conversation didn’t lag, however, with Bull and Lucy filling Tal in on many of their adventures together over the years.

“…and I said, who wants to spend the night in an igloo, just to see the lights?”

“I wanted to see the polar bears too!” Lucy shrieked, smacking his arm. “And so did you.”

“It was a long drive.”

“But worth it.”

Bull nodded, beaming at her. “Yeah, it was. Tal, it’s your turn.”

Tal turned his head at his name. He wasn’t prepared to contribute. “What?”

“Tell us some of your stories. You must have some.”

He rested his elbow against the window and stared out thoughtfully, trying to think of something nearly as interesting as the stories they’d shared. “I got stabbed in Mexico about five years ago.” He moved and pulled his shirt up, revealing a jagged scar about an inch above his hip. “It was kind of a mistake. I was pissed off because of this guy, and Leah, my cousin...” he paused, remembering his confession to Lucy, who, if she remembered, didn’t acknowledge the connection. “He was hitting on her obnoxiously, and I’d had a hell of a lot of tequila, so I socked him, and one of his boys stabbed me. I was on my back for almost two months.”

“Where was your boy, Connor?” Bull asked, a smug look on his face.

“He had the guy roughed up pretty bad when he found out,” Tal admitted sheepishly. “It wasn’t my idea. I was happy to let it go.”


“You must have a better story than that,” Lucy said, raising her eyebrows. “Something happier?”

Tal thought long and hard, and Lucy and Bull waited with anticipation splashed across their faces.

“I live a pretty quiet life,” he said with a shrug. “What about before? Does that count?”

“You haven’t had any fun in the last ten years?” Lucy looked at him with disbelief as she cocked her head at him. “Bullshit. Come on. Think of something.”

“I mean, I’ve had fun, but I didn’t go polar bear hunting or anything. I bike around a lot. I do the money stuff. That’s fun. Last night was fun.”

Bull grumbled incoherently in the driver’s seat.

“It was fun,” Lucy acknowledged with a grin.

“You’re one of those kids whose life was better before,” Bull said thoughtfully, about a half hour later after Lucy fell asleep on his shoulder. “Aren’t you?”

Tal nodded unapologetically. “Oh yeah. Absolutely. Without a doubt.”

“You need to let that shit go,” Bull replied, shaking his head. “It’s never going to be like that again.”

Tal didn’t feel angry at the judgment regarding his upbringing—he felt sympathy for Bull. “Don’t you miss your family?”

“My alcoholic father and my doormat mother? No.” He shook his head gently, careful not to disturb Lucy. “My life is better now than it ever would have been. My little sister’s too. People like us,” he nodded at Lucy. “We didn’t have a chance in hell before.”

“You have a sister?”

He nodded. “Chloe.”

“How old is she?”

“Thirteen. She’s at Lucy’s now, giving Andrew a hard time.” Tal didn’t miss the pride in his voice. “Had a little brother too, but he…he got sick early on. Didn’t make it.”

Tal nodded. “I had a little cousin that got shot the first year.”

“That first year was the hardest,” he commiserated. “F*cking little shits and their chaos.”

“At least you’ve got everything under control now,” Tal admitted. “We’re two shitty movies away from an uprising most of the time.”

“Dude, all your movies are shitty,” Bull cracked a grin. “You must know it’s not enough.”

“You two are very good at stating the obvious.” Tal raised his eyebrows, and glanced at Lucy, mouth was parted as she slept. “It’s been enough, but I know. As they start having more kids and want more security, it’s going to be a problem.”

Bull nodded. “Yeah. Kids will take a lot, but it’s different when you have a family to consider.”

Tal thought of Rachel and Leah. “A responsibility beyond yourself.”

“We can’t all be as pious as Saint Campbell here.”

Lucy began snoring gently, her mouth slightly more ajar.

“I need to call Connor.”

“Why would you bother?” Bull scoffed. “That guy’s a dick.”

Tal tensed. “Because he’s my friend.”

“He’s not your friend. If he was your friend, he would have picked you up in Oklahoma,” Bull said, matter of fact. “Like I picked up my friend.”

“I didn’t call him to pick me up,” Tal muttered. “I will.”

Bull looked up thoughtfully and snorted. “Okay.”

“Do you have something to say?” Tal snapped. “Because you should just say it.”

“I can’t sleep for twenty minutes without you two getting into it?” Lucy sat up and rubbed her eyes. “What?”

“Connor Wilde is a useless piece of shit, and if you choose to associate with him, then you’re—”

“Bull!” Lucy admonished, her eyes wide. “Give it up!”

Both boys glared out the windshield. “Butt out, Goose. Me and West were having a nice conversation.”

Tal frowned at her. “I don’t need you sticking up for me. Connor’s a piece of shit. But he’s the only thing keeping any semblance of order on the west coast for now, and that’s that. Everyone knows who he is, and what he does, and it may not get the same respect and admiration that seventy per cent maternity leave coverage gets but he’s what’s there, and until there’s another option, that’s that.”

“Lucy’s a better option,” Bull said, pride thick in his tone.

“I don’t want West or Mexico,” Lucy groaned. “And I don’t want the drugs, and I don’t want a bunch of privileged brats f*cking up what I’ve started with their unrealistic wants. Bull, I appreciate the support, but I’ve got my hands full at the moment.”

Tal shut up after that, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what happened when he got home. What he’d learned in the past decade, and what the one to come would bring.

Perhaps most importantly, he wondered how he’d be remembered, when contrasted with the two people he shared the cab of the truck with.



***



Cara and Paul were two of Lucy’s favourite people. They were twenty-two, older than most, and Paul, from Chicago, had been one of the first emissaries she’d received, eight years earlier. Their house and things were modest, and they’d give the clothes off their backs if someone needed them more than they did.

Even at nine at night their house was a hub of activity. Lucy opened the door and came face to face with a tiny girl clutching a cat.

“Are Cara and Paul around?”

“Momma Cara!” the redhead screamed. “There’s some people here.”

Ten minutes later they were all seated around a massive table with soup and sandwiches spread from one end to the other and about fifteen kids, all various ages under ten, running around in organized chaos, sitting where they could to make room for Bull, Tal, and Lucy.

“We did pasta last night, Ce. You should have timed your kidnapping better,” a woman with a small waist, enormous hips with the ass to match, cooed as she swayed into the room. “You look terrible, Love.”

No matter how long had passed, it always felt like minutes since Lucy’d seen her old friend, and she beamed as they embraced. There weren’t a lot of people like Cara and Paul, Lucy thought to herself as they sat down to eat and they began telling the three of them about the new kids they’d taken in recently and others that had passed through their house and out into the world.

After a while, Lucy stopped listening to Cara’s stories and started watching Tal, who was less interested in what was being said and more interested in the little girl seated next to him. She couldn’t have been much older than four.

“My mom died,” she told him, without much coaxing on his part. “I live here now.”

“It’s good here?”

She nodded eyes wide. “Like a real family.”

Bull and Lucy did their best to stay out of the way while Cara put the girls to bed and Paul the boys, which took a great deal of negotiation. Tal vanished after dinner and Lucy found him outside, sitting on the back step thoughtfully looking up at the stars.

“She looks a little like my cousin,” he said when she sat down beside him. “The cousin that died.”

“Ah,” Lucy said thoughtfully, not sure what to say. “Cute little girl.”

“What if they weren’t here? What would happen to her?”

“I guess someone else would have taken her in?” Lucy shrugged. “I don’t know. You know what happens sometimes. It’s good they’re here.”


They’d both seen kids too young to make it on their own, unable to take care of themselves, and the terrible realization that it was impossible to save everyone had dawned on each of them more than once.

“We’re too old for that to happen anymore,” Tal muttered. “I mean, I always knew that, but it’s hard.”

“I know,” she nodded. “I’m guilty of it too.”

Tal stared up at the stars. “Will they take money, or things, if I sent them some?”

“For the little girl?”

He shook his head. “For all the kids,” he replied. “I’m…I’m doing all right, you know.”

Lucy raised her eyebrows and wondered how much all right was. “I’m sure you are.”

“And I do give where I can, but it’s not easy to know it’s going somewhere good. This feels like somewhere good.”

“Cara raised Bull’s sister for quite a few years when he couldn’t. She’s…this is her thing. She’s a natural. Since she was twelve. Paul’s the same.” Lucy rested her head in her hands and looked over at Tal in the porch light. “It is somewhere good. The kids they turn out are the kind you want around.”

“Not the Soldier of Fortune kids,” Tal recalled.

“Not the Soldier of Fortune kids.” Lucy nodded at the door and patted his shoulder. “We should get some sleep. You’re on the couch and the little ones get up early.”

“Night,” he said, as he awkwardly put his hand up to pat her on the back, or hug her, she wasn’t sure.

“Sleep tight,” she replied, swallowing a request for him to spend the night with her. “I guess I’ll…see you tomorrow.”

He gave her a nod and a grin. “I guess so.”