Kathryn had gone to her first outpatient appointment with Cameron that morning, and she told the therapist about the nightmares she was having.
"I never had nightmares that I can recall," said Kathryn; "But in the last two weeks, since Christian, the girls and I came back from New York City, I've been having them every night. Sometimes, several in one night. I'm surprised I ever slept!"
"Christian knows about these nightmares?" asked Cameron.
"The one that freaked me out the most was the one about the little boy named Eric," Kathryn said; "I just sat there while he played. He had such a beautiful smile, and it had no effect on me. It was like I wasn't even part of this little boy's life."
"This is the dream that you told Christian about?"
"Yes," Kathryn said; "It awoke me from a dead sleep because Eric is my father's name. Christian and I would have named a son Eric if we'd had one. A man came to me and asked why I ignored the little boy all the time, and he called me Chastity. When I said I wasn't Chastity, he took me into another room and raped me. Then I woke up in the psych ward somewhere."
"Chastity had spent time in mental institutions because of some changes in her normal behavior," Cameron said; "And those were the times you were present. Several of her husbands did that."
"How many children did Chastity have besides Eric?" asked Kathryn, almost afraid of what she might hear.
"She was married three times, and had one child by each husband, except the first," Cameron said; "She had twin boys with that one. All of her offspring were male."
"So Chastity had four sons by three different men?" asked Kathryn. "What happened to these children?"
"Chastity's first two husbands raised their kids with other women," said Cameron; "Her third husband, the one she had the little boy you dreamed about with, put him up for adoption and a couple in Virginia adopted him."
"Why am I having these nightmares?" Kathryn asked.
"I think that you're starting to remember some of what happened when Chastity was in control. You're remembering things she did," Cameron said.
"I don't want Chastity's memories!" Kathryn exclaimed; "I don't want to have to remember all the evil and cruel things she did!"
"So far, they're only in your dreams, and sometimes they stay there," Cameron reassured her; "But if you start acting out of the ordinary for who you are, I need to know. I may have to put you on stronger medication."
"I don't want to be a zombie, Cameron," Kathryn said.
"We'll give you the proper dosage to allow you to live your own life, Kathryn," said Cameron. She saw Kathryn relax, then said, "I understand that you've started painting again."
"Yes, it relaxes me, especially after the nightmares," Kathryn said; "Many mornings, Christian or one of the girls will find me down in my studio painting or drawing. Christian even showed some of my drawings to friends of his who have connections with galleries, and they all agree I have some talent. But I don't know if I want to sell my art. I want to bring art to people who might not be exposed to it otherwise."
"There are several programs that would love to have you in such a project," Cameron said.
"My daughter Erin and I are looking into a couple," Kathryn said; "She actually had the same idea. She wants to teach inner city kids about art from a kid's perspective."
"She's the artist one, if memory serves," Cameron said; "The one who wants to be an architect."
"I think she still wants to do that," Kathryn said; "but she wants to use her talents to help others."
Cameron was impressed. She knew that Kathryn had been very involved with her kids before Chastity took over, so it came as no surprise that they wanted to give back.
She soon ended the session and told Kathryn that she'd see her on Monday.
Kathryn walked out of the office and got into the car that Christian had provided for her. The driver had waited patiently for the hour that Kathryn's appointment took.
She was uncomfortable with having a driver take her everywhere. She wanted to learn how to drive herself places. Kathryn made a note of that to talk to Christian about when she got home.
As promised, the boxes were gone when the children got up to do their farm chose the next morning.
"Did ninjas come in the middle of the night, or what?" asked Zach.
Julia looked at her son. Ninjas, she thought. How silly! Nik, Jere and Joe wanted to be ninjas when they grew up.
"They're gone and that's all you need to know, young man," Julia said; "Now don't you have some chores out in the barn to do?"
"Yes, ma'am," Zach said and headed out to the barn.
All four Summers children were doing everything that Jack did alone before their arrival six months before. He didn't come out to help anymore since he was sick. The animals somehow knew something was up. Two of the four cows were already gone, and half the chickens were sold to a neighbor several miles away. The same neighbor was interested in the goats, and Jack said they could take them at forty dollars a head. There were 35 goats.
The only animals left were Sarge and the two young cows; half the chickens; and the two horses. With the proceeds of the sales, a new herd of goats and more chickens could be purchased when the family arrived in Belvidere later in the month.
"Sarge, why do you poop so much?" Rachel asked the bull as he stood just outside his stall so the tiny redhead could muck it out. All he did was moo and snort.
"That's not funny!" said Rachel as she started to shovel the manure into a wheelbarrow so that Zach could take it to the compost pile.
Sarge snorted again, and Rachel was convinced he enjoyed tormenting her.
Miri was milking the cows, who seemed sad that the two older cows were no longer there.
"You know, one or both of you could have babies," she told them. "Then there might be another cow or two to milk this time next year. Sarge is willing, the horny old bastard!"
"Who you calling a horny old bastard, girl!" Jack bellowed from the doorway. He decided he felt well enough that day to gather some eggs.
"Sarge!" Miri bellowed back at him; "The cows seem sad and I was telling them that Sarge was willing."
"Oh, he's definitely that!" Jack said as he approached the henhouse; "I know some old ranchers who are sad to see him go."
"What did you tell them about where Sarge was going?" asked Zach while he waited for Rachel to finish putting manure in the wheelbarrow.
"I told some of the nosy old goats that I was taking Sarge out of state to breed with some cows in Illinois," said Jack; "In a way it's the truth. And Zachary, why are you making your little sister do all the hard work. Grab a shovel and get in there and help her, boy!"
Zach did what he was told, but he didn't like it.
Jaime was in the pen with the horses. Coltrane had gotten big enough to have his own pen, but since he was still nursing for a few more weeks, he still needed easy access to his mother. He had started eating feed, too, so Mama's milk production was decreasing.
"You need to have a proper name," Jaime told Mama, "because you're not going to be 'Mama' forever. I kinda want to call you 'Wyoming Rose' and just call you Rose or Rosie for short. You like that?"
The newly christened Wyoming Rose whinnied her approval of her new name. At least, that's how Jaime took it.
Soon the chores were done and the kids all got showers before breakfast was served. Then there were lessons and homework. That would be the routine until the kids left on February 25th.
The animals would leave a week later.
Jack and Julia would leave a week after that. But before they left, they had some personal business to take care of with a judge.
II
Nico had spent most of the time waiting for her grandmother to arrive crying. It felt good to let it all out, but the guilt she felt was still there.
Stefanie arrived and let herself in. She saw Nico sitting on the couch, sobbing. To see the girl hurting broke her heart.
She sat on the couch next to Nico and wordlessly took her into her arms, all while Nico cried. "It's all right, Nicoletta Victoria... let it all out, then tell me everything that's bothering you," she said softly, just as she had with her own children.
Stefanie Travetti had seen a lot of sadness and grief in her nearly 71 years. She'd buried three of her four children; a husband; a grandchild (the youngest child of her youngest son, the only one of her children still living); raised two of her grandchildren herself; suffered at the hands of the New Army and the Occupational government; and saw many friends disappear, never to be seen again.
Now she helped her oldest granddaughter bury her husband, and to see the girl suffering so brought back many memories for Stefanie.
When Nico was finally able to speak, the first thing out of her mouth was, "Oh, Nonna... it's all my fault!"
"What's all your fault, Nico?" Stefanie asked.
"Steve's dead because of me! I can't bear it anymore!" Nico cried. She then told Stefanie the whole story about going undercover to get the leader of A.R.M. and finding Eddie instead.
Her grandmother listened patiently to Nico's "confession". Poor girl, she thought, it's not her fault her emotions betrayed her. It happens. And she didn't tell Steve for fear of his leaving her?
When Nico had run out of things to say, Stefanie knew she had to tell her secret as well.
"Nico," she began; "First of all, what happened to Steve was NOT your fault! You weren't part of the team that went to that building, you weren't in the building when they blew it up, you didn't provide the explosives. It's was just a cruel twist of fate that what happened with you and this other man, and Steve's death, happened so close together. How can you blame yourself for that? It happens like that sometimes, and there isn't a damn thing we can do about it."
"I-I could've told Steve what happened, Nonna," Nico said.
"You could have, but you didn't. You had your reasons, however misguided they were," Stefanie said; "I believe with all my heart that Steve loved you enough to forgive you for any transgressions you may have committed in the course of doing your job. Yes, you fell for this other man, and he for you, if I understand you correctly; You've always been one of those people who wants to save everyone, when it's you that you need to save."
"Meaning what?" asked Nico.
"You have a good heart, Nicoletta," Stefanie said, "and sometimes people take advantage of it. I'm not saying this man did. You may have done him a favor by allowing him to unburden himself to you. Maybe he'll think about what path he needs to take in the future. You can't worry about that now. You have to save yourself before you can save anyone else. You're going to have a long road ahead of you if you keep thinking that you somehow had something to do with your husband's death. What would Steve think if he knew you were thinking like this?"
"He'd probably tell me to get over it, that it wasn't my fault," Nico said; "Steve knew what I was doing by going undercover as a prostitute."
"He did, and he probably also knew that at times, you'd actually have to have sex with the person you were investigating, right?"
"Well, yes, Nonna," Nico said; "He knew that."
"So why is this any different, other than the fact that you developed feelings for this man?" asked Stefanie. Nico didn't have an answer for her.
"Look, Nico, let me tell you a story," Stefanie said; "I'm just like you, emotionally. I was always a nurturer, always wanted to save people. I allowed people to take advantage of me because I thought they cared as much for me as I did for them. They didn't and I learned that the hard way.
"Shortly after I divorced your mother's father, I got a job as a travelling reporter for Rolling Stone magazine. One of my first assignments for them was to accompany a new band on tour and write a series of stories about them, their experiences, their concerts, their fans, stuff like that. I loved the life, I loved writing the stories about this band, I loved the music. What I didn't love so much were the young girls who threw themselves at the members of the band. I wrote about them, too. Some of them wanted the prestige of sleeping with a rock star; others wanted the notoriety of being 'with the band'; still others wanted to party.
"Some of the guys in the band took advantage of the easy availability of these girls. They all did a few at one time or another. But then I caught the attention of the singer, a man who was ten years younger than I am. I was always around, doing my job, not judging him and the other guys. One night, we got to talking, and he said he loved the attention the female fans lavished on him. But sometimes it got to be too much. Sometimes, he just wanted to spend a quiet night with someone who didn't expect him to perform both on stage and off. He then floored me by asking me out when I was 'off the clock'."
"Did you go out with him?" Nico asked.
"I did," Stefanie continued; "He'd been in bands since high school, and now that he'd hit the big time, life on the road got lonely. He got bored easily because he was extremely intelligent. He just wanted someone to talk to and spend time with. I was that someone. And yes, Nico, we did sleep together on more than one occasion. He developed feelings for me, but I knew when my back was turned, he was off wallowing in the waves of girls who talked their way backstage or into his hotel room. I caught him at it one night. He kept telling me he was sorry, and I wanted to believe him but I soon reached my breaking point. After the assignment was completed, I left the tour. He wanted me to stay, but I'd had enough. He told me he loved me, and I replied that he loved the life, and that maybe men like him weren't meant to be tied down by women like me. I wanted it to hurt him. Years later, I found out it did hurt him. He's been married to a wonderful woman for twenty years now."
"Is this anyone I've heard of?" asked Nico.
"Yes, and he and his band are still together. They don't do as many shows anymore, but they never disbanded," Stefanie said.
"Were you with Grandpa Dale after that?"
"I'd known Grandpa Dale a while," Stefanie said; "We were friends and co workers. He knew about what happened because I felt he needed to know, especially when things started getting serious between us."
"Did you ever feel guilty about being this rock star's girlfriend?" asked Nico.
"We really weren't like that," Stefanie said; "More like friends with benefits. When he tired of the groupies, I'd get what was left. That got old fast. Shortly after I'd been with the magazine for a year, I decided to go back into radio full time. I didn't see this man again for fifteen years, and then it was to save my life."
"When you were still Charlotte Rush?"
"Yeah. My name during the occupation," Stefanie said. "It was after Grandpa Dale died. I was raising your cousins Olivia and Katherine then."
Nico gave Stefanie a hug. "I feel better getting that off my mind, Nonna. That story you told me... who else have you told it to?"
"Just your mother," Stefanie said. "Of course, I never expected to tell it to anyone else, so when your mother died, my secret died with her."
"Nonna, if you don't tell my secret, I won't tell yours," Nico said, smiling; "Besides, you never told me who the band was, or who the singer was."
"Let's just say that's one secret I think I'll keep to myself, and leave it at that, okay?"
"Thanks for listening, Nonna," Nico said; "I love you."
"I love you too, sweetie," Stefanie said, hugging Nico. In the back of her mind, she remembered those three months with David Draiman with fondness. Stefanie hoped that Nico could get over her guilt and remember the man who bared his soul to her with fondness as well.
Stefanie had no idea that Nico would meet back up with him someday. Nico didn't know it either.
Not yet.
Finally, there was a definite sighting of someone Marsh thought was Julia Summers. It was just Julia Summers and not her children or companion. I'll take that for now, Marsh thought; She's who we're here to get after all.
He drove into the area known as the Marina District and met his team near Pier 39.
"Let me see the pictures," Marsh growled at the leader of the team who did the search for Summers.
Once he got the pictures, he wasn't happy about what he saw.
"Are you sure this is her?" he asked. "Even recent pictures have her with shorter hair than this."
"One of my men chatted her up, and was satisfied that she was who we were looking for," the squad leader said; "She even told the man I sent that her name was Julia."
"That's not an uncommon name," Marsh said; "Especially after the Occupation, little girls left and right were being named Julia."
"This was no little girl we talked to," said the squad leader; "This was a woman in her mid 30s, five-three, brown eyes and hair. And her facial features are just like the photos we've been provided."
"Find out where she's staying, then watch her comings and goings until I give the word to approach her," Marsh said, apparently satisfied that the woman they were looking for was in the city.
The squad leader gathered his men together and gave them assignments to follow "Julia Summers" wherever she went until her location could be determined.
Marsh looked forward to finally meeting this broad who was known as the SpineSplitter. She would regret the day she messed with him.
And he would finally realize that he'd been duped.
Then it would be war.
III
"Christian, I want to learn how to drive," Kathryn said when she got home.
"Why the change of heart, Kathryn?" he asked.
"Because I'm not 14 anymore, and I want to be able to go places on my own, in my own car, and not have to stand out like a sore thumb because I'm essentially chauffered everywhere I go," said Kathryn. "It makes me uncomfortable."
Christian knew this day was coming.
He'd had the standard transmission in Chastity's car replaced with an automatic transmission; Kathryn loved the car, but couldn't drive a stick. Automatic would be easier for her.
"I can arrange to have someone teach you, Kathryn," he said now.
"Why couldn't you teach me?" asked Kathryn; "I'd rather learn it from you. And, it will give you practise for when the girls get to that magic age where they want to learn to drive."
"I could teach you," Christian said, seeing that Kathryn had a point. "When do you want to start?"
"Soon," Kathryn said; "We live so far out of town that having a car is a must. I don't want to be chauffered everywhere. Every once in a while it's okay. But every time I go somewhere, like the grocery store?"
"I see your point, Kathryn," Christian said; "But you know the kitchen staff does the grocery shopping. You want to put them and the chauffer on the unemployment line?" He laughed, but Kathryn didn't.
It was her way of becoming independent, the way most teenagers feel. But Kathryn was nearly 32 years old, twice the age of someone learning to drive for the first time. She'd missed all of those milestones when Chastity took over her life at 14.
"Christian, I'm serious," Kathryn said; "I want to be more like a wife and mother and do things for you and the girls. Having a staff is nice, and I understand why we have them, but I want to do more domestic things, like cook and bake and make dinner on occasion."
"Oh, Kathryn," Christian said, lifting Kathryn's chin gently so she could look at him, "I know you're trying to be 'normal', like you experienced as a child. And I want to give you those times where it's just us and the girls, and you doing domestic stuff."
"I want to feel like a regular wife and mother, Christian," Kathryn said. "I want everything that Chastity tried to take away from me."
"I know, baby," Christian said; "and learning to drive is part of that. We can start as soon as you're ready."
"Tomorrow, after the girls go to school?" asked Kathryn.
"Yes, my angel," Christian said, kissing her forehead; "Tomorrow it is."
Kathryn allowed Christian to take her into his arms and hold her. It was really the only place she felt safe.
The only time that Christian DeWitt felt complete was when he had Kathryn next to him. He'd waited what seemed like a lifetime for his soulmate. He wasn't going to let Chastity take her away from him again.
He'd stake his life on it.
To prepare for the imminent arrival of her nieces and nephew, Kimber went out one afternoon to do some shopping.
There were already six bedrooms in the house: the master bedroom where Kimber and Jamey slept; the one at the other end of the hall that was their joint office; and four in between. All had beds, linens, and furnishings, so the only things that Kimber really needed to get were more towels for the two bathrooms; extra dishware and silverware; and non-perishables like cereal, pasta and other noodles, canned goods, and snacks, because Kimber remembered that all the training that they do requires a lot of calories to burn.
When she got home, Jamey helped her unpack everything.
"Looks like you bought out all the non perishable things in the store, Kimber!" Jamey exclaimed. "Do those kids really eat that much?"
"Maybe not the girls so much, but Zach definitely will," Kimber said; "If my brothers are any indication."
"Don't they have a dog now, too? Shouldn't we have provided food for him or her?" asked Jamey.
"I haven't heard whether the dog is coming with them, or going with Julia and her friend," said Kimber; "If the dog comes with the kids, I know a cat who will be highly pissed off."
"Not to sound mean, Kimber, but Marm always seems to be pissed off about one thing or another," Jamie said.
"She's a cat, and it's not so much that she's pissed off than that she has a sense of detachment about things," Kimber said; "She always been like 'whatever', attitude wise."
"What's the dog like?"
"All I know about the dog is that his name is Tripod, and that he's a golden retriever," Kimber said.
"Tripod? What the hell kind of a name is that?" Jamey asked.
"It's a perfect name for a dog with three legs," Kimber replied. "At least that's the information Nik gave me."
"Ahh, I thought maybe his owner was a camera buff," said Jamey.
"He might be, I have no idea," Kimber said as she put the last of the groceries away, grabbed the new towels and headed for the back of the house where the bedrooms and bathrooms were to put the new towels away.
The search for Julia was not going well and Marsh was getting frustrated.
His men couldn't seem to pinpoint a location for their target.
Marsh told them in no uncertain terms that the team was to find her, ascertain a precise location for her, then observe her comings and goings until he said it was time to strike.
Meanwhile, he had some other stuff to take care of.
And that had to do with another woman he wanted to keep tabs on, but from a safe distance so he didn't fuck up her life more than he suspected he already had.
Marsh tried to put the pretty green-eyed brunette in the back of his mind, but when he least expected it, she'd be front and center again. Like during his dreams.
He'd seen her from across the courtyard. Nicoletta, looking as beautiful and as innocent as ever. She was older, but so was he.
He willed himself to not approach her, because he had no idea if she was alone, had one of her children with her, or was with another man.
He saw a man approach her and his heart sank. I've waited too long, he thought in anguish.
Then she waved the man off, as if she were waiting for someone else.
Before he realized what he was doing, he started walking toward her. When he was within twenty feet, she turned around. She cast her emerald gaze upon him and he saw her smile. She recognized me, he thought.
"Eddie? Is that really you?" she asked. "It's me, Nicoletta."
"Yes, Nicoletta, it's really me," he said; "I'd know you anywhere!"
"It's been how long...ten years since Chicago?"
"I heard about Steve," he said; "I'm so sorry. I wish I could have been there to comfort you."
"He's in a better place, Eddie;" she said; "For months afterward, I blamed myself. Like I should have known something. Thank God for my grandmother. She is a wise woman, and she set me straight. I could always go to her and talk."
"Your grandmother is still living then?" he asked.
"Oh, yes," Nicoletta said; "She's in her eighties now, and acts like someone forgot to tell her she was supposed grow old."
He wanted to change the subject, so he asked, "Are you here with someone?"
She looked at him, saying, "No, Eddie. I'm here alone. I needed time away. My kids are grown now with families of their own. My youngest just got married a few months ago. What about you, Eddie? Are you here with someone?"
"No, I am here alone as well," he said; "There is no other woman in my life. There was one, but I let her get away because the timing wasn't right, and maybe I wasn't ready."
"Me?" she asked; "I'm the one you let get away?"
He looked at her. "There has been no other who affected me the way you did, no other I wanted as much as I wanted you; no other..." He stopped, knowing he was getting emotional. Over ten years since the fantasies began, each ending with the two of them together.
"Eddie? Are you saying that I'm the only one you've ever wanted for all these years?" she asked.
The look in her eyes demanded an answer, and he couldn't deny it any longer.
"Yes, sweet Nicoletta," he said; "I swore the day I left Chicago that I would search for you until my dying breath, find out if what started then was true."
"Eddie, I had hoped you would look for me," she said; "That day you left me in that motel room, I went outside to scan the horizon, wondering where out there you were. I said the words I swore I'd ever tell another man. And my feelings haven't changed. I searched for you, too."
"Nicoletta..." he said, taking her hand. "Do I dare ask what you said that day?"
"Eddie," she said softly, "That was the first time I said that I..."
He awoke suddenly from the nap he didn't intend to take. "What! Nicoletta... what is it that you said?!" he cried out.
Marsh fell back on the bed, and to his utter surprise, wept.
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