Re-Called to Duty
Chapter 1
An errant ray of morning sunshine made its way through the gap between the window shade and the casing to beam directly on the face of one still-sleeping Lee Stetson. Brought to wakefulness by the light, he raised his head to squint drowsily at the numbers of the clock on the nightstand: 7:06. Too early to have to get up, despite the insistence of the sunbeam. He dropped his head back down to the pillow, tucking himself once more around the form of his wife. After 30 years of marriage, they still fit together, body, heart, and soul.
"Is it time to get up?" Amanda asked, refusing to open her eyes just yet, enjoying the warm solidity of her husband's chest against her back.
"Nope, too early," came the definitive reply, his arm tightening around her waist.
"Oh, good," she sighed, "I'm too comfortable to move."
They lay together in silence, not awake yet not asleep, content in the private cocoon of their bed and each other's presence. Soon, as was often the case, Lee found the closeness of his wife an irresistible temptation. His lips naturally gravitated to her bare shoulder, slowly pressing kisses as he made his way across her skin to her neck.
Amanda made a slight murmur of protest, "Lee, I thought we didn't have to get up yet."
He kept his attention focused on the tender flesh beneath his lips, "Who said anything about getting up? I'm all for staying in bed."
A giggle tinged with the same husky rasp of her youth escaped as she maneuvered herself onto her back and looked up at the face of the man she had loved for over three decades.
"You told me it was too early," she reminded him. "I was just falling back to sleep."
A grin was her only answer as he dipped his head toward her throat. Her change in position had given him much better access…
"Are you complaining, then?" he asked continuing his kisses, savoring the thrum of her pulse beneath his lips. He smiled again as that steady beat picked up speed, her body responding as ever, despite her words about wanting more sleep.
"Complaining?" she repeated, "me?" She looped her arms around his neck as he looked at her. "I'll have you know that I never com –" she broke off with a little sigh as she felt his tongue replace his lips at the hollow of her throat.
"Problem, Mrs. Stetson?" he teased as she left her sentence unfinished.
She merely quirked an eyebrow at him, quietly shifting an arm to brush her hand across his hips. She gave him a grin that matched his earlier one as she felt the slight tremor of his body and watched his eyes darken to that deeper shade of green that told her he could not resist her any more than she could him.
She pulled his head down to capture his lips against hers. "No problem, Mr. Stetson," she managed to say before words became too difficult to form.
The sunshine was more welcome an hour later, making the breakfast nook seem warmer on this autumn morning, light playing off the golden oak of the hardwood floor. As much as Amanda had loved her old home in Arlington, this Arts & Crafts-style bungalow that she and Lee had moved to some 25 years ago was even more dear to her heart. Truly they had made it their home, built on a love that had a strength that even they had not realized that day they had exchanged vows. The bones of this home had seemed to soak up all that taken place over the years, embracing all the joy and sorrow they had experienced together, somehow supporting their family in more ways than a mere building ever could.
Giving a small happy sigh of contentment as she took in her home around her, Amanda paused to ask her husband a question before she returned to the omelet in front of her.
"What are you up to this morning? Anything to do with those bags you brought in from Home Depot last night?"
He nodded while he swallowed the bite of toast in his mouth. Even now after hearing for years how breakfast was the most important meal of the day, Lee still preferred toast and coffee. He loved to cook something more elaborate for Amanda, but for himself, he stuck to the simple food he had eaten since his bachelor days.
"I want to make sure and get a head start on that Rube Goldberg machine that Luke wants to me help him with. He'll want to get working on it before he even walks through the front door tomorrow afternoon!"
Amanda laughed even as she agreed with Lee's assessment of their grandson's enthusiasm.
"Well, he knows his grandpa is more likely to be mechanically minded than his dad!"
Lee shook his head, "I'm just a sufficient substitute for Uncle Jamie. If he were here this weekend the two of them would never come up for air!"
"Now that's not true and you know it!" she contradicted. "Luke loves the time he spends with you, just as much as he does with Jamie. The two of them have such similar personalities, that's true, but he loves being able to explain what he's thinking to his Grandpa. You make him feel like he's the smartest person in the room."
He laughed as got up from the table to fetch the coffee pot.
"That's because when we're together I think he is the smartest person in the room." He poured himself and Amanda each a refill, "It's so funny to think that Phillip's youngest child is so like his younger brother, I wonder if Phillip ever slips up and calls him a wormbrain."
"I doubt that," she responded dryly, "thank goodness that expression finally died out when they were in college. Now tell me again what is the object of your machine?"
"Luke says he wants it to be able to either pour Cosmo's dog food into his bowl or start the coffeemaker for Phillip and Molly in the mornings." He leaned back in his chair as he asked, "You think it's a good idea to push him towards the dog food option?"
"You betcha," Amanda agreed with an emphatic nod. "Much less chance of a kitchen disaster with Cosmo's kibble versus the coffeemaker!"
"Great minds think alike," he said as he leaned across the table for a quick kiss. "Think I'll find that scene on YouTube from Back to the Future so he can see Doc Brown's version of a dog food machine and show him that before we get down to some serious mechanical planning."
"You, Husband, are simply brilliant," she complimented generously. "How did I end up with such a smart man?"
"Thank you, Wife," he returned, then appeared to lapse into deep thought, "but I will have to give it some thought to find an answer to your question…"
Amanda hummed low in her throat as she joined in the pondering, "Perhaps it was because you wanted a nice piece of ass?"
The poker-faced delivery of the slightly salty language made Lee choke as he was swallowing and he baptized the kitchen table with a light sprinkling of coffee. After more than three decades together she still said "Oh my gosh!" more than any person – age 5 or 65 – he knew. But she could still surprise the hell out of him and she loved to do it with unexpected language.
Amanda wasn't done with him yet.
"No, on second thought, I really think it was because I wanted a nice piece of ass."
He made no reply, but continued to cough, intent on clearing the coffee out of his airway. When this went on for more than 10 seconds, Amanda moved with some concern to come beside Lee. Was his face getting red? Had her timing been so bad that he had actually aspirated some of that hot coffee?
"Sweetheart, are you all right?" then more urgently when there was no reply, "Sweetheart?"
Just as she bent closer to him, in a flash his arms engulfed her, trapping her arms at her side and a voice growled low in her ear.
"You, Amanda West King Stetson, will be the death of me yet."
Relieved that he was just fine, she replied, "I may not start something, but I will finish it!"
"I am more than happy to start things, my dear," he informed her, his hands moving around to capably unfasten the buttons of her cardigan sweater.
Laughter once more bubbled forth from his wife, "Lee, you are acting like an oversexed teenage boy! What was in your coffee this morning?"
"Nothing, the busy man replied, "I can't help it that you are a wanton temptress and I'm helpless to resist you." Somehow he had already undone every button and opened her sweater to reveal the silk and lace bra beneath.
"What?! You, my friend, have an overactive libido," she scolded as she tried to ineffectually move his hands from her breasts. As her efforts proved fruitless, she resorted to blunt honesty.
"Do you intend to explain to your 12-year-old grandson that you weren't able to get his project set-up in time because you were feeling up his grandmother?"
That did it. Lee laughed and let Amanda pull her clothes back together.
"Fine," pressing a final light kiss atop her head, "that is a conversation I do not intend on having anytime soon. But," he continued as he began clearing the table of dishes, "you owe me some good kitchen sex."
If he intended to get Amanda back in a war of words, he failed. She merely looked at him and replied with a wicked grin "Be careful what you wish for...!"
"You win!" he chuckled. "I will quit while I can. I will do the breakfast dishes as an appropriate forfeit," he offered generously. "Now tell me what you will be doing while I'm getting things ready for Luke?"
"Well, this Wednesday is the first steering committee meeting for the Metro Veterans Ball. I want to make sure I have the agenda all worked out, and the probably run down to the Paper Mill to look over some new design ideas for the invitations this year."
"I can't believe it's already time to start thinking about that event," Lee commented as he washed dishes at the sink. "It seems to come around faster each year."
"It's still a good four months off," she admitted, "but in order to make it run smoothly, it's important to get a good head start."
"Is it the usual crowd helping out this year?"
"Yes, mostly, though we do have 2 new people. Kerry Dunn and Jonah Greenleaf are on the Junior Committee for the first time."
"Do they have a parent or other relative who's a veteran?"
"Actually, no. But they both were involved as volunteers with the home project for Captain Williamson last spring and they felt so inspired from that experience that they wanted to become more involved in the fund-raising side."
"I'm not surprised," Lee said. "How many homes have been built or re-done over that past 8 years?
"Twelve so far," she replied proudly. "I'm just glad we have the ability to fund-raise like this. The demand for accessible houses for wounded veterans isn't diminishing anytime soon."
Done with the breakfast dishes, Lee rounded the kitchen island to kiss his wife. "Well I think a lot of the credit for that success goes to you. This ball is now an annual event thanks to you."
"No, not at all," Amanda denied herself the credit with a firm shake of her head. "This is truly a huge group effort. I'm very happy that I've had enough experience in charity work over the years to be able to offer it for such a good cause as this one."
Her husband knew it was pointless to press the issue. Amanda was as modest as she had ever been, though the years had added steel to her spine when it came to her charitable activities. She put in long hours; corralled dozens and dozens of individuals and businesses to donate and volunteer; and managed all the various personalities of the committees. No one took advantage of her kind heart the way some had in times gone by, but she still managed to honestly not see the outsized contribution she made overall. Just one of the many reasons he loved her still so much.
"Well, then I will get to work on my project and leave you to get started," as he left the room and headed towards the garage. "Just let me know when you head out to the store, okay?"
"I will," she promised.
A stiff neck finally prompted Amanda to look around the small office where she was working and notice that more than 90 minutes had passed. It was not good to stay still for so long, as her aching neck reminded her, but one task had fed right into the next and now she was paying the price. She chuckled to herself as she reflected that if she could get her hands-y husband to accept that a neck rub meant only a neck rub tonight, she'd be right as rain by tomorrow.
Well, at least the agenda was set for Wednesday's meeting, and she had managed to sketch out the rough draft of the event timeline. The major committee's for this year would pretty much mirror last year's configuration, and she'd let each committee chair organize whatever sub- or ad hoc committees were needed. Though it wasn't a conscious exercise on her part, Amanda's own past volunteer efforts had played a large part in forming her as the successful event coordinator that she was. Knowing what it was like to be summoned at the last minute, or overburdened with tasks, or asked to shoulder multiple peoples' responsibilities when they failed - - she made very sure not to make those same mistakes with the many people who so generously lent of their time and talents to this cause.
Pleased with her progress and ready for a break, she decided to head over to the paper goods store that the Metro Veterans Ball used each year for the design and printing of the invitations, place cards, programs, and menus. The Paper Mill was a family-owned business located in the heart of Old Town Alexandria and was known for its both beautiful and unique offerings. Amanda had developed a warm relationship with the family over the years and never left the boutique disappointed or unsatisfied.
The Ball was an elegant occasion, providing a welcome opportunity for tuxes, gowns, and jewels to be aired out, enjoyed, and shown to their best advantage. In this day of casual dress and athleisure wear, Washington society truly appreciated an event like this: classy, well-run, and not least of all, one that supported a cause everyone could get behind regardless of party or ideology.
As she came into the garage to let Lee know she was headed out for her errand, she surveyed the layout on the workbench.
"What in the world is all of this?"
"Well, most of it will end up as part of Luke's machine, I hope!" He gestured to the table as he began listing all the supplies and parts laid out in groups, "We've got springs – of various sizes and tensions of course; pulleys; ball bearings; twine; rope; wire; weights; magnets; hinges - -"
Amanda broke in with a smile, "Did you leave anything behind at the store? It looks like you cleaned out their inventory."
"Very funny," he returned, "actually I'm worried that I might be missing some items."
"I can't see what you could possibly be missing. What is Luke contributing to all this?"
Lee reassured her, expertly understanding the unspoken question in her words, "Don't worry, Amanda, I'm not doing the project for him. He's in charge of all the other things the assignment requires – he has to have 5 items from nature, at least 6 toys, 4 household gadgets or tools, and at least 3 foods."
Shaking her head at the display in front of her she commented, "Well you two will have your hands full creating a working machine out of all that - - it reminds me of the chaos of stuff that was your apartment when I first met you."
She grinned up at her husband at the recollection, but his answering smile was one that didn't reach his eyes, making the smile look more like toothy grimace. Holding in a sigh and once again wondering if Lee would ever be able to recall their time at the Agency with anything other than bitterness or anger, she quickly changed the subject.
"Well, sweetheart, I'm off to the Paper Mill and to talk shop with JD and Katy. You can always text me if you do discover that you need me to go back to Home Depot and pick anything up for you."
Relieved of the burden of thinking about the Agency, Lee's face relaxed into its normal pleasant expression.
"Do you want me to wait for you to get home for lunch?" he merely asked.
"Only if you want to," she replied, "I'm not sure how long I'll be, and if we get talking…" she let the sentence trail off as her husband rolled his eyes at her knowingly. "Stop that," she scolded, "We haven't a good catch-up chat in ages! There's plenty of cold cuts in the 'fridge if you get hungry and don't feel like waiting."
"Thanks, Mom," he teased. "I feel well taken care of."
"Smart aleck," she muttered as she kissed him goodbye.
Each made a final wave to the other as she pulled away in the navy blue Toyota RAV4. Lee stared after the car, his mind drifting back to Amanda's passing comment on his old apartment. He wished he could respond positively to casual remarks about their past, as regarded the Agency, but he just couldn't do it, even after all these years. He wondered that Amanda could do so, but then again, her personality had ever found the upside to anything. While a trait that had initially annoyed him when he first knew her, that ability had become one of the things he valued most about her character.
Lee shook his head, as if to shake loose this unhappy train of thought. It did no good to dwell or wish that things were different. He'd learned that years ago. Resolutely turning back to the interior of the garage, he set about sorting the next bag of items for Luke's Rube Goldberg contraption. He had a jumbled mixture of wood scraps, tiles, rubber sheets, plywood pieces…
A short 45 minutes later, as he was laying a protective tarp across the workbench, he heard the Toyota pull in the driveway.
"You finished up there quickly," he noted as he helped his wife out of the car and greeted her with kiss. "I didn't think you'd be back before one o'clock."
"Me neither! But when they showed me their design options for this year, it was sort of a no-contest situation, the right one just kind of leaped out at me. And they were just so busy in the shop, they really couldn't take time out to talk," she explained.
"Are you hungry?" he asked as they made their way into the house.
"Famished!"
"I will make the sandwiches, then," he offered, "if you take care of drinks and sides."
"Deal, partner," Amanda responded, nearly automatically as she went to cupboard for glassware and plates, missing the flinch he couldn't control at the old, familiar words.
Oblivious, Amanda set the table as she shared more details of her shopping trip with her husband. "They had four designs they had come up with for me to see, but when I saw them, I just really, really liked one of them right away. I took home with me the mock menu card to show you, and take to Wednesday's meeting to share with the steering committee."
She turned back to face Lee, "What did you want to drink? I think there's some cold –" her words were cut off by the sound of the doorbell chiming through the house. "I'll go see who it is, you keep making my sandwich," she commanded.
He made a slight bow in her direction, "As you wish."
She smiled to herself as she made her way to the front door. Who would ever have believed that the once hard, cynical, playboy, secret agent Lee Stetson had an undying affection for The Princess Bride?
Swinging open the front door and revealing the visitor made Amanda speechless in surprise – but only for a moment! Her happiness at seeing a dear friend restored her ever-natural volubility in mere seconds.
"Francine! Whatever brings you here? Is Stephen with you? We didn't expect to see you until Thanksgiving!" she stopped to both draw a breath and usher her unexpected guest through the front hallway. "Lee, it's Francine! Did you know she was coming?"
"Hi, Amanda," Francine said as she leaned in to hug her friend. Same Amanda, as always, no matter how much time had passed and circumstances had changed. In a way, like her former co-worker, Amanda's good nature, sunny outlook, and cheerful talkativeness had all been qualities the elite agent couldn't understand or enjoy. But, now, she simply took them all in as part of someone that the years and circumstances had made a close and beloved friend.
"Hey, Francine."
"Hello, Lee."
As the two also exchanged hugs Lee immediately thought something's off. Though it had been a long time since he had been an agent in the field, Lee still possessed what a young Jamie had often referred to as his "spidey senses," (which indeed had been a welcome ability when he had begun to take a hand in raising two boys). And for some reason those senses were jangling at full force upon seeing a friend he had known even longer than Amanda.
He unobtrusively observed her while she chatted with his wife, half-listening as they talked ". . . Stephen's at a conference . . ." She looked well; the years had been good to her, perhaps especially so because the life she had made with her husband had truly brought forth the best in Francine. Years of being with a man of integrity who thought the world of her had worn away the cynicism and materialistic tendencies that had been her personal armor for too long. What was it about her that had put him on edge….? Ah! That was it, there was clearly a strain of nervous tension running through her. Her words coming a bit too quick, blinking a little too frequently, a tic pulsing near her left eyebrow; should he be grateful he could still notice such things he wondered?
He refocused his attention on the conversation and movement happening around him.
"Francine, you timed your visit perfectly," Amanda proclaimed. "We were just about to sit down to lunch and now you can join us."
Francine couldn't let the visit continue under such a happy misunderstanding that this was merely an unanticipated reunion. While part of her wanted to never have to reveal the information that weighed so heavily on her, a tiny corner of her heart kept nursing the small flame of hope that knowledge also brought with it.
"Lee –" she started, then stopped. "Amanda –" she stopped again, twisting her hands together in an uncharacteristic manner, betraying openly her raw nerves.
"Are you okay, Francine? Can we help you?" Amanda asked, concerned over this very un-Francinelike behavior.
The blond woman drew in a deep breath before she answered, "I'm here because the Agency has information you need to know, and because they want you to do something for them. I told them I would be the one to come talk to you."
The two Stetsons just stared at their friend, her answer something neither one expected to hear.
Lee found his voice first. "Francine, what makes you think we would listen to anything the Agency has to say?" he ground out, his knuckles turning white as his grip tightened on the handles of Amanda's wheelchair.