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“You say just a couple of days? Why don’t I ask for a week for you? Would that give you time to resolve the issue and then a couple of days to get your head on straight? Those family things can be pretty exhausting.”
“Sounds like you’ve been there.”
“Yes indeed. And I don’t see any memos from you, so I’m guessing you don’t have an op coming up just yet, am I right?”
“Yes, not ready yet.”
“So, between you and me, our lips are sealed, right?” she said with a bright wink.
“I’m glad we understand each other. If I can resolve things sooner, I will.”
“They live in Florida, right?”
“They do.” He was amazed she remembered this. She was dumb like a fox.
“This is a great time to be going to Florida. I think it’s what you need. I’ll just tell Mr. Davis I approved it. He doesn’t like todisagree with me much because I make him pay!” she said, her bright eyes and extra-long false eyelashes flapping like butterfly wings.
“I appreciate it.”
She sauntered off down the hallway, her shoes squeaking as she traveled.
There were two other letters, appearing to be thank-you notes of one type or the other, sent in the inter-office mail. He slipped them inside his coat pocket.
Everything else was filed in the Bulletin file.
With the decks clear, he was off to wander the park he was to have his meeting with the journalist tomorrow. Old force of habit made him scope out everything in advance.
He didn’t like surprises.
Chapter Four
The afternoon wasbeginning to get breezy, not quite warm enough to feel the stirrings of summer and not cool, especially at night. He walked down by the mall, in the shadow of the Washington Memorial, the monuments feeling sometimes so small compared to what they represented. A nation who lived and died one by one. Some in wars, some by illness or natural causes, and some at the hands of others both here and abroad. The pulse of the country felt weak right now.
Or maybe it was just how Dimitri was feeling, that comfortable lack of control, when all he had to do was execute and hold his emotions at bay. He couldn’t do that right now and probably wouldn’t be able to tomorrow.
He stepped across the lawn, walked the sidewalk along the roadway, and then crossed to the tiny park between two government buildings. Behind them was a neighborhood. It was more a cross-through between two busy streets. The brownstones on the both sides of the street were silent. No children played in the road like he’d see in his old home in San Diego or like what he’d seen when he visited his parents in Florida. No bicycles were left outside, no scooters or pushcarts or soccer balls.
Maybe it was the voices of his forefathers whispering to him today. The breeze talked to him, almost seemed to inhale when he did and blow out the tiny bits of pollen and green shootsdiscarded from the sycamore, elm, and pine trees everywhere. The voices reminded him to stay calm. To observe. Not let his guard down, learn from his environment, and his favorite, “Embrace The Suck.” It had been a favorite of his BUD/S instructor at Coronado, old Wiley Grant. They called him Wiley Coyote.
And Wiley’s suck was here today too.
He wondered why, if all he’d ever wanted was to belong, when he found the person he wanted to spend his life with that she’d been taken away. And, if Jordan Taliaferro was correct and she was still alive, why she abandoned him.
Was it the wedding she was running from?
Oh, he could handle it. He just didn’t understand why he was dealt such a sharp and painful blow. What had he done to deserve this? Didn’t he try his best to do his job? He thought of all the people he’d saved, the men he’d patched up or talked down from a bullet to the brain, and the marriages he tried to solve along the way. He was batting a good percentage.
And all the while, he wrestled with the same demons he counseled others about. Why would he be left with a loveless life, except for a few dazzling years of pure Enchanted Forest—full of magic and mayhem, where his favorite place was the warm cotton sheets in any nice hotel, or his apartment, or her place? There were wonders there, for sure. Where he could dream about a life never-ending.
And now this.
Noticing the brown and dark blue structures, the dark forest green trim, the red brick walls, painted doors with bronze knockers, and artful mailboxes with eagles or flags or lions encrusted in statuary on the front porch, he shook his head. Some houses had wrought iron fencing with spear-top pointed spindles and small squeaky gates painted black. No white picket fences like New England or San Diego. These were dark,powerful colors. The colors of the powerful, aloof, and well secured. The smell of money was everywhere.
And it felt dangerous. Always did when he walked through these little parks. This one had a few iron benches, sometimes decorated with a plaque to commemorate someone or something. Indeed, the whole neighborhood had bronze markers at the corners of the buildings announcing history was made there. People fucked upstairs, argued, and cooked dinner, but history was still made there years and years ago. The plaques proved it so.
A black and white cat slithered behind bushes, watching him pass with wide green eyes, ready to scamper away. A delivery van dropped off a pizza to an older gentleman standing in the doorway of his living room. Dimitri could hear the TV in the background, and a faint smell of coffee brewed somewhere.
At the end of the short block, cars buzzed by like large bugs. The drivers never looked at the park, the meandering path that bisected it, the benches, or him walking with his hands in his pocket.
