Chapter 17
Eve twirled in the kitchen for everyone's approval. Mother looked up from the list she studied and smiled. Stealth let out a predatory whistle, and even Striker looked impressed. "Where did you find that?" Mother asked.
"It was in the attic of one of the mansions in the hills. Cindy found it and thought it would fit." Eve twisted back and forth so the full, green skirt of the dress would swish and swirl around her legs. "Like it?"
"It looks fantastic," Mother said, pleased that Eve was so excited for the festival dance. The crops were in, the threshing was finally done, and the grains were bagged and stacked in the storage room upstairs. The hard work was finally finished, and Mother let the people have three days completely off. There were no assigned jobs at all. It took two days of pure rest before she saw smiles instead of frowns. The festival day was the last bit of salve they all needed to forget the slave driving weeks they'd just been through.
The Harvest Festival, as it was being called with capital letters for added importance, was more than just one dance. Cora had come up with a true holiday, complete with a sort of sacred feeling to it. The day began with a beautiful speech delivered by Cora. Though no one had yet to show any intention of starting any type of church services in Newton, Cora's speech was very close to prayer, and people really responded. She praised the peoples' hard work, she pointed out that a year had passed since the plague, and she offered words of release for the people everyone in Newton had lost. Then she turned it around, bringing it away from a ceremony of remembrance of death to one of glory for the new life they had worked hard to create. When Cora was done, people were crying. They were both mourning and celebrating, and even Mother was moved.
After the beautiful speech, they had a celebratory communal breakfast consisting of Newton's first batch of scrambled eggs, made from collecting the eggs of the two dozen chickens they'd managed to round up on raids. They collected the eggs for a couple weeks and had a huge bowl of them to share among the citizens. Served with fish and fresh apple slices, it was a fresh food feast the likes of which none of them had eaten in nearly a year.
With the breakfast done and the townspeople already in fine spirits, Mother had declared the day a time to celebrate, relax, and prepare for the evening ahead. The party itself would be be the huge, fun bash the town expected, but Mother planned to open it with her own speech and a champagne toast. She oversaw the preparations, then retired to her farmhouse to take care of a little business and relax before party time.
Eve beamed and turned to go finish getting ready. Stealth leaned back and sipped a cocktail, a present from Mother for all his work. He looked at Striker and didn't miss the fact that the kid's eyes followed Eve long after she'd left the room. He gave a small chuckle. "What's the story with you two?"
Striker turned guilty eyes towards Stealth. "Me and her?" he squeaked, his voice cracking.
Stealth nodded. "Yep. You could cut the sexual tension between the two of you with a knife."
Mother sighed and closed her notebook, rubbing her tired eyes. She was going to have to face facts and find some kind of reading glasses. Every time she looked at the books, she got a pounding headache. She'd have to take a trip down to the pharmacy next time she was heading into town and see if any of the reading glasses worked for her. Striker sputtered and babbled his denials and Mother wondered for a second if Stealth hadn't just hit on something. "Oh, leave the kid alone. Eve hates his guts."
Instead of being offended, the embarrassed Striker pointed to Mother. "See? Like she said, Eve hates my guts."
Stealth was just giving the kid shit, something he loved to do. It was almost as easy to rile Striker as it was to get Wolf going, and Wolf wasn't in the room. The warm alcohol made tense muscles relax, made his mood turn easy and carefree. "Aw, I'm just having fun."
Striker stood and put his plate in the sink. He shot Stealth a glare then left the kitchen, taking the stairs up to his room two at a time to get away from the frustrating man.
Stealth chuckled into his drink. "One of these days, I'm telling you. They both just have to grow up a little."
"They've had to grow up a lot already," Mother said, admitting to herself there might just be something to Stealth's words. "Let them slow down and be kids for awhile, at least on that front."
Stealth shrugged and took another warm sip. "This is smooth."
"I had a little money saved up. I could afford top shelf." Mother stretched and felt the pop in her back. The days of harvesting had taken their toll on her, too. She glanced at the clock on the wall. She could definitely see that clearly, so yes, just reading glasses. Like a little old lady. She sighed at the thought. "If you want to get ready for the party, you better do it soon. I'm doing the toast at six."
"I can't wait to see you all gussied up, Princess." Stealth gave her that smile that made women swoon.
"Gussied up? Yeah, no." She stood. "A shower and a clean shirt is about as good as it gets. Can't strap a knife, gun, walkie, and ammo to a dress." She put the supply notebook in the draw with the pen and shut it with her hip. "You'll just have to keep dreaming, I suppose." She stuck her tongue out at Stealth and intentionally sashayed down the hall to her door, smiling at his chuckle.
Stealth watched her walk down the hall and chuckled, because he knew that's what she expected. As soon as the door was closed behind her, his smile faded and he slowly sipped his drink. She said it in jest, but she didn't know how close she was to the truth. He'd just about kill to see her all dressed up, her hair done, make up, in high heels. He swallowed hard as the mental image of her in high heels made his stomach tighten. Stealth downed the rest of his drink quickly and stood to leave the house before he let his mind continue going where it didn't belong. There were several attractive women in town, a few of them much more beautiful than Princess, in the strictest sense. They had softer hair, more appealing curves, warmer eyes. But there was just something about Princess that wormed its way into his mind and held his attention.
Stealth couldn't shake that thought later as he stood across from Wolf in the doorway of the barn watching Mother give her speech. There was a light in her eyes that the other women didn't have. There was something obnoxiously attractive about her hair, too, and the fact that she didn't care a bit what it looked like sticking up at all angles like she was electric, like her very essence was enough to electrify everything around her. Stealth knew some of his thoughts were nothing more than the booze talking. Some. The booze was certainly what let him think about it, pick it apart instead of shoving it deep inside. He watched her up in front of everyone, the lights they'd strung twinkling in the glass of champagne she held, and he thought she looked like magic.
After the toast, the music began. Mother circulated among the crowd for a bit, then took up a spot by the door between Wolf and Stealth.
"How was that?" Mother asked.
"Great speech," Stealth said, sipping his own glass of champagne. Wolf said nothing, as they were in front of people, but he, too, gave a small nod.
"Good!" Mother said, taking a sip of champagne herself. She could count the number of alcoholic drinks she'd had in her entire life on one hand. She didn't care for it, didn't like the feeling of being drunk, or the memories the smells brought. But she took a sip, swept up in the party, and instantly regretted it as ghosts she'd long since tried to vanquish reared up inside. "Ew. Here." She handed the glass off to Stealth.
"You trying to liquor me up, Princess? Plan on taking advantage of me?" He lifted an eyebrow and she laughed.
"Yeah. I'm the one that would take advantage in this situation." Mother felt Wolf tense next to her. "I'm going to go see if I can get Cora a sweater. It's chillier in here tonight than I thought." She walked over to Cora and Stealth watched the sway of her body as it moved through the crowd.
"You best think back to a certain conversation we had," Wolf warned so quietly that Stealth almost missed it.
He turned and smiled at the man. "Aw, now
, Wolfie. Come on. You haven't made a move yet." He thumped Wolf on the chest, knowing the man wouldn't make a scene and ruin Princess's party. "She's a grown up. Let her decide."
Wolf's jaw clenched and Stealth wondered if Wolf was actually cracking his teeth he was wound so tight. "I'm warning you," Wolf said, before someone approached close enough to hear and he cut off his words. He would not ruin her night.
Stealth gave a shrug, chugged the champagne, and headed off into the crowd. Fuck it, the alcohol said. Let the Wolf bark. He watched Mother move through the back door of the barn, no doubt to get Cora that sweater, and thought he had a golden opportunity until Eve rushed to join her. Damn. He stood back and waited. He could be patient. He lived a life of patience.
After awhile, Mother sat herself on her porch. The party spread outside the confines of the barn and into the yard, with people dancing in the cooler air outdoors. Mother sat on her porch, rocking in her chair and watching the event. Wolf had left to take a very drunk Mack home before he got rowdy and did something he'd regret, and Mother was by herself, away from it but part of it, separate but connected in her own way. She was humming to the music and didn't stop, even when Stealth got close.
"Good party, Princess," Stealth said, leaning on the railing of the porch.
"You're drunk," Mother said, smiling in spite of the accusation.
He spread his hands. "A little tipsy is all. Not sloppy."
"I bet you never get sloppy," she said.
"Not when I drink, anyway," he said suggestively. He noticed a flash of something in Mother's eyes and something inside him felt a little more hopeful. "You never met me in the shadows," he said.
Mother swallowed and brushed his comment off. He was drunk and silly. Period. "Maybe you just missed me. I'm sure I lurked several times and never once found..."
Before she could finish speaking, she found herself pulled up and out of her chair, wrapped in Stealth's arms with his lips firmly on hers. He kissed her with a passion that made her heart leap, and for a moment she let it sweep her away. Forget everything, a voice said inside. Let him take you. Go with it and let him show you what you can't afford to have. Screw it all and just give in.
And then what?
The thought was like ice water. Give in and then what? Give herself to a man she didn't love, who couldn't love her back the way she needed? Have one fun night and then have to deal with the fallout? Have a fling, risk it all for a quick roll in the sack? She liked Stealth. She respected him. In fact, she was quickly growing to care for him, but not like that. She couldn't give that part of herself to anyone. She just didn't have it in her to give anything else, especially to someone she knew full well was not capable of handling that fragile side of her.
Stealth felt her respond. No matter what happened later, he felt her kiss him back, felt her desire. And then, he felt the very second Mother let her mind get in the way. She started to pull back and he wanted to hold her tighter, to make her ignore her own fears and warnings. No, he wanted to shout as she put her hands on his chest and pressed. It's not fair, his mind whirled when she pulled her face away. She was smiling, a soft, gentle smile that told him that she was about to let him down.
"No," Stealth whispered, not wanting to hear what she was about to say. She said the words anyway, words he knew were true. She explained it to him in a way he simply could not deny, and no matter how much he wished it was different, no matter how much he wanted to rail against the truth, part of him had gone into it knowing that's exactly what he'd get.
"Just one night, Princess," he said when she was finished speaking.
Mother reached up and kissed his cheek. "I don't have one night for myself, never mind anyone else." She stepped back and he felt cold and, for the first time in his life, empty in a way that mattered. She pointed to the barn. "Go on. Get back to the party. Go look in the shadows for who you're supposed to find."
Mother sounded sure. Her words were strong and Stealth had no doubt she meant them. How could someone so young be so damn sure? He sighed heavily. Fuck it. She wanted him to go screw around? Hell, maybe that's what he needed. He flashed her a grin he hoped was convincing. "Last chance."
Mother shook her head and drew in a deep breath. "Go," she said quietly.
Stealth swallowed and gave her a little salute. "Then have a good night in the castle, Princess. I am off on a conquest." He turned and strode away, wondering if he'd ever had his pride so thoroughly crushed before. He walked straight to the drink table and grabbed a bottle. Pulling the cap off, he took a large swig, not caring what he was drinking. He just wanted to dull the pain. He never felt pain and he didn't like the sensation one little bit. He turned and looked at the dancing group. Molly. Mary? No, Molly, he told himself was staring at him from across the room. She always stared at him. She had blond hair and big breasts and wide hips. She was probably in her late twenties, and he bet in the previous life she was a slut. She just had that look about her. Perfect. He strode across the room and took what her eyes offered.
Mother sat on the porch uncomfortably for awhile after Stealth left. She knew she hurt him, though he tried to pretend otherwise, and she felt terrible for it. But facts were facts. She didn't have time for anyone. Maybe in another time or place. She sighed heavily, then shivered as the chill of the night settled in.
Wolf pulled up in the golf cart awhile later. He saw Mother on the porch and joined her. "Jesus Mack's a messy drunk." He shook his head and pointed at Mother. "You owe me." He held up a boot and she saw the vomit.
"Yikes. He give you any trouble?"
"Oh, no. Not Mack. He loves me," Wolf said, drawing it out in a drunk sounding voice.
Mother laughed. "Aw, that's sweet. Wolf has a friend."
Wolf shook his head and looked around. The night had turned colder, and people had taken the party back into the barn. He lit a cigarette, glad she was outside not in the middle of all the noise and people. "Why you out here by yourself?"
Mother shrugged. "Just wanted to give them some space. I don't think they can unwind all the way when I'm around."
Wolf nodded in agreement. "Did you ever unwind around your mother?" He didn't mean to pry. He was saying more of a general statement, something to highlight the situation.
"No," she said quietly. "No, I did not."
Wolf smoked in silence, wondering at the tone of Mother's voice. She wasn't excited as she had been. Something happened and the seriousness was back, the heaviness. "Anything happen while I was cleaning Mack's dinner out of my golf cart?"
"Nothing but a partying town."
The answer was too pat. Wolf pulled another drag off his cigarette and saw Stealth walking out from behind the barn, pulling a woman along with him. Stealth's shirt was messy, the woman completely disheveled, an it didn't take a genius to put two and two together. Wolf wanted to turn and look at Mother, to see her reaction and judge whether that was the problem. Had she seen them? Was that why she was upset? Did she want to be the woman Stealth dragged behind the barn? Wolf wanted to look so badly, but knew if he did there was a chance he couldn't live with what he saw in her face. He couldn't live if he saw longing, and he would take Stealth down with him. He slowly smoked his cigarette and forced himself to keep staring ahead, made himself hold fast.
Stealth looked up at the porch and gave Mother a salute. It was all Wolf could do not the fly across the barnyard and wipe that smug look off the man's face once and for all. His hand shook with anger and every muscle in his body tensed.
"Looks like he found what he was looking for," Mother said, surprising Wolf. Wolf didn't trust himself to speak and just gave a nod. Mother didn't miss the fact that Wolf was sprung tight enough to snap. Wolf had no idea how much he radiated anger when he felt it, like a physical force pushing off him, warning everyone in the area to steer clear or suffer the consequences. She couldn't see his face, but she didn't have to.
"Good," she said carefully, looking to diffuse Wolf's anger before it reached a c
ritical point. "Maybe now he'll stop sniffing around the house and focus on his work."
Wolf hated the relief he suddenly felt when he heard the sincerity in Mother's voice. It calmed one beast and fueled another, and he much preferred the angry, snarling beast. He was familiar with that animal. He was comfortable with that monster. He was used to dealing with that and he wanted to be angry. He wanted to get angry and stay angry until he could find something to smash to hell and then feel better. He didn't want the other beast fueled. There would be no reprieve for that internal torture.
Mother didn't feel like she made anything better. Stealth was hurt. Wolf was still ready to fly off the handle. While her townspeople partied and puked and screwed, she just felt tired and cold and alone. "I'm going to bed. Can you keep an eye on everyone?" At Wolf's curt nod, she rose. "Make sure everything wraps up before fists fly." She felt like she should say something else, but couldn't think of what. Maybe Wolf would get drunk. That did worlds of good for him last time. She shook her head and went inside, closing the door quietly behind her and wishing the day had ended better.
Wolf sat on the porch and smoked until his lungs burned in the cold autumn air. He watched people meander home, one by one, until it was around two in the morning and only the very drunkest stragglers had to be told it was time to wrap up. He walked into the barn, flicked on the main lights, and, while people blinked their drunk, bleary eyes against the offending brightness, made a signal to Striker to let him know it was time to stop playing music.
Stealth sat in the corner, slugging back another drink. He knew Wolf wouldn't make the public announcement, so he did. "Party's over. You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here." He pushed up and tapped a guy slumped over the next table on the shoulder. "Come on, bud. Wrap it up." The man snorted and raised his head. Stealth pulled him up and shoved him towards the door. He flailed his hands, but kept balance, and staggered off into the night.
Striker walked over to Wolf. "Thanks. It was getting a little late."
"Where's Eve?" Wolf demanded. Mother would ask.
Striker shrugged, and Stealth knew he didn't feel as blase as he wanted them to believe. "She left with someone."
The muscle in Wolf's jaw tightened. "Calm down, big dog. She's a big girl," Stealth said, ignoring the wave of hatred he felt coming off the agent's body. "Head on in, Striker. You did good with the music tonight." Striker trotted off and the only people in the barn were Wolf, Stealth, and their small herd of cows with Phil.
"Missed you at the shindig, Wolfie."
Wolf felt the snap inside. He physically felt the spring he kept wound tight push one notch too far. He clenched his fist and turned and swung. If Stealth hadn't had a few too many, he might have been able to duck. As it was, he was distracted and didn't see it coming. For the first time in too many years to count, Stealth actually felt the blinding explosion of a well-placed punch, and he reeled back, his addled mind scrambling to figure out what happened.
Once he began, Wolf could not stop. Something in him screamed to back off. Something warned him that there would be hell to pay. He just didn't care. The fight was a lot of years in the making, and he simply could not stop himself from going at Stealth full force.
After the second blow, the years of training kicked in and even though he was drunk, Stealth's body automatically began to fight back. "Wolf! What the fuck is wrong with you?" he bellowed, as he ducked and then landed his own punch. He pulled his fist back quickly, hopping back into a fighter's stance, waiting for the opportunity to strike again.
Wolf shook off the punch and smiled, glad that the pain provided a focus. "What's wrong with me? That's rich. You're the one flaunting your conquests in her face!" He ducked as Stealth's hand shot in, and Wolf's fist slammed into Stealth's jaw. Stealth pulled his knee up quickly and brought his hands down at the same time, bashing Wolf's head forward and driving the knee right into Wolf's nose. Both men broke apart and reeled from their wounds.
Stealth spat blood and felt the slice his own teeth made in his tongue. "That's what this is about?"
Wolf felt the blood trickle down the back of his throat and the sharp throb spread across the bridge of his nose. It wasn't the first time his nose was broken, and he doubted it would be the last. "She was having a good time and then I left," he said between heaving breaths.
Stealth was not about to tell Wolf what happened. He wouldn't let the agent have yet another piece of dirt to dangle over his head. "So it's my fault?"
Wolf knew it was. He just knew it. He knew there was more to the story because every bit of his opponent looked guilty. "You son of a..." He charged. He met a wall. He slammed up against Stealth and the two beat the shit out of each other, landing blow after blow until they couldn't take it anymore. They broke apart and sat heavily in chairs, panting and spitting blood and feeling generally spent.
Stealth grabbed a bottle of whiskey and took a long swig, wincing from the stinging burn he felt as it slipped over his split tongue. "Son of a bitch," he said, spitting out the thinned blood. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he asked, sighing heavily and passing over the whiskey. "Come on," he said, wiggling the bottle. "Take a fucking pull. For once stop being the god damn agent and just take a drink."
Wolf took the bottle and downed a long swig of the scorching liquid. The throbbing in his nose shot through him. Tenderly he touched it, and winced when he realized it sat at a crooked angle. He took a deep, bracing breath, pinched just under the break in the bridge, and gave a quick tug and twist. There was a cracking pop, and he slammed his fist on the table against the pain. He gulped a huge mouthful of whiskey and when he could finally breathe, he opened his eyes and let out a shuddery breath. Stealth was just staring at him. Wolf took one more sip, then handed the bottle back.
Stealth shook his head and took the whiskey. "You are one tough bastard, Wolf, I'll give you that." He drank, then dumped some of the alcohol over his bleeding knuckles. "You got it all out of your system?"
"Leave her alone," Wolf said. He no longer wanted to hit anyone. The beast was calm. Instead of heat, he felt a cold layer of steel inside and was glad.
Still smarting from the rejection earlier, Stealth wasn't ready to simply just agree. "Well same to you, buddy."
Wolf snorted and schooled himself from reacting to the pain that shot through his face. "I have never acted in anything but a professional manner..."
"Cut the shit," Stealth said bitterly. "You know what I mean."
Wolf snatched the bottle and took another drink. Yes, he did. But he'd be god damned if he let Stealth have the satisfaction of being right. "I keep my distance," he said eventually. "I always have and I always will."
"You don't want to," Stealth said, realizing for the first time just how right he was.
"But I do." Wolf looked Stealth directly in the eyes and said the words with all the conviction he felt. He did keep his distance, on the one level he didn't want to. He had and he would continue to do so, because in his mind, it kept her safe. "You have worked on the wrong side too much for my liking, but that doesn't mean I doubt your devotion to the job. And you know that she is the job." Wolf pointed toward the house. "And what happens when you take the job too personal?"
Stealth sighed. It was a standard training point, something hammered into their heads over and over until they could recite it in their sleep. "People die."
"Damn straight."
Stealth snorted. "So you just randomly attacked me for no reason tonight because you don't take the job to heart, is that what you want me to believe?"
"I beat the shit out of you because you annoy me," Wolf said, refusing to admit out loud how true Stealth's words were.
Stealth sat back and studied Wolf. The man was hurting. Good. Served him right. Wolf deserved to wallow in the same pit of misery he was in. "I kissed her," he admitted. He watched the flames rise in Wolf's look again. "Calm down," Stealth said quietly. "She wouldn't have it." He watched Wolf's fist slowly lower and wond
ered idly if Wolf even knew he was about to strike again. Stealth picked up the whiskey and drained the rest of the bottle, then laughed. "Aren't we a pair? Sitting here fighting over a woman who doesn't want us."
"She deserves better anyway," Wolf said, rolling the knowledge over and over in his head. She rejected Stealth. He shouldn't care, he hated that he did. Just knowing it, though, eased something inside. He couldn't have her. But she wouldn't have Stealth, either. If she ever did fall for someone, it wouldn't be Stealth. He could live with that.
"That she does," Stealth agreed, feeling a stab of pain in his chest. He went to drink out of the bottle again and found it empty. "Someone drank all our booze, dog."
Wolf looked around and found another bottle. He cracked it open and sat back down, rubbing his sore jaw. "Jesus you've got a good swing."
Stealth flexed. "Don't mess with the guns."
Wolf snorted in disgust. "Yeah, well, your face doesn't look the best either, pretty boy."
Stealth could feel the blood drying under his eye and knew Wolf was right. "All the ladies like a few scars."
Wolf hiccuped and felt the numbing relief of the whiskey start to take away all the pain. That's what he needed. He needed one night's reprieve from the pain. He closed his eyes and let his body relax and welcomed the haze. He knew that he'd be in a world of hurt in the morning, and he didn't even want to think of what she'd say when she saw them both. They'd have to come up with a story. Later. For now, he just craved the numb. He took another long pull and let his mind and body go blank.
The next morning, Mother stood over her sad, sorry people and wondered if she'd let the celebration go too far. Eve was hungover, perhaps for the first time in her life. She sat with her head down on the kitchen table, still in her green party dress, with make up smeared all over her face. Striker wasn't hungover, but he was pissed. Mother could feel his anger, an unusual emotion to see in the normally easy going boy. Stealth sat with his sun glasses on, his face looking puffy and bruised, and Mother wasn't sure if he was awake or asleep. Wolf sat on his normal seat on top of the counter and definitely had a broken nose. Both eyes were an angry purple and his lip was split. It didn't take a genius to figure out he and Stealth had fought, and she sat and weighed her options. She could chew them out, but would it do any good? They were both hungover, maybe even still drunk if Stealth's slight swaying was any indication. Mother looked at the clock and sighed heavily. Any minute people would be knocking on the door to carry out breakfast, and the sorry group was useless.
"That's it," she said, louder than any of them would have liked. "Eve, bed. Stealth, go home. Wolf, go sleep it off. Striker, you drunk?"
"No," he said in a sullen voice.
"Good. Then lose the bad attitude and go get me four service cans of peaches and two tubs of oats."
"Princesses are supposed to talk quietly," Stealth said.
"Then go find a princess."
Everyone left but Wolf. "I swear to all that's holy if you don't get your drunk ass up and drag your sorry self to bed, I'll show you just how far from a princess I am," Mother threatened him in a cold voice.
"I'm not the one that thinks you're a princess," he pointed out, frowning when his words came out slurred. "That's the douche bag."
"Go."
Wolf sighed and hopped down, catching himself when his legs felt wobbly. "Don't go being stupid and dangerous today," he said.
Mother scoffed. Like he had anything to say about it! She turned and started to get the pans out to make oatmeal. When Striker returned, she gave him instructions in a clipped tone, and the two silently prepared the meal. No one came knocking, and after awhile, Mother and Striker gathered the platters themselves and headed to the barn. No one was there.
"Is everyone hungover?" Mother asked, throwing her hands in the air.
"I'm not," Striker replied.
"Great. That's two of us." She looked around the trashed barn and sighed. "Well, do you want to start cleaning or do you want to muck out stalls?"
Striker chose cleaning, and went to get some large trash bags from the store. Mother set about mucking the stalls. They had three cows and Phil, and one of the cows was clearly pregnant. She cleaned the stalls of the cows and fed them first, wanting to spend a little more time with Phil. She missed him. She never got to just talk to him anymore and was kind of glad her people were horribly irresponsible. She entered his stall and scratched his forehead between his horns. They'd gotten very big. Phil had gotten very big, and the realization was almost sad. "You're not my baby anymore," she said, thumping his neck as he liked. Phil nudged her with his nose, then continued to munch the hay she fed him.
After she mucked, Mother gave Striker a hand. The town had trashed the place. "Well, at least it was a good party." She swiped her arm across a table top, sending the empty and half-empty cups, plates, and crumpled napkins into the trash bag Striker held open. By the time they had gotten the majority of the place cleaned up, people began to straggle in for breakfast.
"Breakfast is over there. Eat on the other side and let us clean up," Mother told them. The others that came in later in groups and clusters followed suit, and by the time Mother and Striker had cleaned and were finishing wrapping the cords from the sound system, it looked like just about everyone was there. They ate in silence, then moved out of the barn like zombies to return to their houses and enjoy a day of recovery. Mother helped Striker pack the sound system safely away in the loft of the barn, then dismissed him.
"When can I have that group to raid for solar panels?" Striker asked.
Mother laughed. "Well I doubt they'd be any use today. How about we regroup tomorrow morning?"
Striker nodded. "Yeah, I've got a program I wanted to tweak today anyway."
Mother watched him go, then hauled the trash bags to the yard. Chuck would grab them after dinner and add them to the dump truck where ever it was. Mother looked down the road toward the silent town, wondering what she was going to do with her day. It felt kind of good to have nowhere to be and nothing to do. She went inside to turn on some music and go through her notebooks to get all caught up on the backlog of work she had to shuffle aside while dealing with the harvest.
After several long hours, and a brutal headache, Mother stood and went to the cupboard to get some aspirin. She popped a few, then made up her mind to stop being stubborn and get some reading glasses. She jotted a quick note for Wolf or whoever would get up first that afternoon and took the golf cart down the hill into town.
Mother took her time at the pharmacy, trying on different pairs of reading glasses until she found the right magnification, then she looked around for a pair she liked. She grabbed a few of them, tucked them in her pockets, and headed back out. She was just passing through the neighborhood when she saw Steve running down the hill.
"I tried calling you," he said, doubling over and panting. He pointed up the hill. "Denise."
With a sinking feeling, Mother ordered him into the golf cart and as they crested the hill, she wondered again just why it was that things could turn so quickly from peaceful calm to utter chaos. She took a deep breath and ran in the house behind Steve, wishing she could roll back the clock and get five more minutes of peace.