In Squall Leonhart's office, with mom present, we sat by the window in plush comfortable chairs. Squall hated his desk with a passion and used any opportunity to avoid it. He said the desk broke his concentration, that he could think better by the window. I figured he was overworked, and the window brought a little bit of stress relief to his busy life.
"You've done a fine job, Micala," mom said, as she reviewed her notes. "You went beyond what we asked, and brought us more information that we could have hoped for."
"Thank you," I replied, looking at my hands. You know that compliments embarrass me, so of course, I was uncomfortable.
"I'd like to send you back," Squall said. "That is, with your approval, Quisty."
"Of course. She's already in with the guy, maybe we can find out who his suppliers are."
"Good. Let's say another two months?" He directed the question to me, then glanced at mom for her approval. She nodded and glanced out the window.
"Yes sir," I replied. I didn't want to go back, but I didn't say so.
"Squall, Micala, this time I think we should send you back with a little surveillance."
"You want me to wear a wire?" I asked in disbelief.
"We need to get some of this on tape," mom explained, "we need proof of what you're saying."
"I don't know. It's kind of risky," I replied. Wearing a wire is the kind of thing that can get a girl killed, you know.
"The tech department has some gadgets that might work for you," Squall said. "Stop by tomorrow and we'll see what we can set you up with. In the mean time, get some rest, relax. Be with your family."
"Thank you, sir," I said. I stood to leave, then turned back. "Have you heard from him?"
I didn't need to say his name. Squall knew who I was talking about.
Gideon.
"No," he said. His voice was emotionless, but his eyes told the truth. He missed him. We all did. None of us understood why Gideon had left, and he hadn't said where he was going. We all knew he wasn't coming back, but we all hoped. Squall hoped more than anyone, even more so than Gabriel or Rinoa.
"Ready to go, mom?" I asked as I adjusted the black trench coat I wore.
"Let me grab my purse," she said and squeezed Squall's shoulder. "I'll see you in the morning."
"I'm giving you the day off," he said with weak smile.
Mom looked surprised and thanked him.
On our way out, I caught mom smiling to herself, as if she was remembering some fond memory from her childhood. She got like that around Squall every now and then. Sometimes I wonder if she'd loved him once. I won't ask her because she'll tell me it was nonsense.
You and Aida were waiting for us at the restaurant. Aida chatted at you without taking a breath of air, her bright eyes looking at you with so much adoration. I was like that when I was a girl, wasn't I? You were my hero, and you still are, Daddy. You were Aida's hero too.
Mom and I sat down and ordered.
"Why couldn't Julian come?" I asked.
"There was some crisis," mom explained. There was always a crisis. You'd think working for the Estharian ministry of economy would be a drag, dull, boring. Julian was always busy though, and could rarely make it home.
"I guess that means no crazy schemes this time, hunh?" you asked.
"The night's still young, dad," I teased. "You forget, I was the mastermind behind all the devious plans."
"Yes, Julian was a good boy until you learned to talk," mom said with a laugh.
"Was Micala naughty as a little girl?" Aida asked then stuffed a shrimp into her mouth.
"Very," you said. "But she turned out all right."
"I dunno, dad. I kinda wanted to steal the sail boat again."
"Do it and die, kid."
I smiled innocently at you and pushed my plate away.
"Kalie are you gonna eat the rest of your fries?" Aida asked, batting her long eyelashes at me.
"No. You may have them," I replied and scraped the remainder onto her plate.
"Yay!!!" she cried. "Yummy fries, all for me!"
I smiled at her, and then at mom. She looked younger than 52, maybe by ten or fifteen years, and I hoped at her age I might look as good. If I live that long.
When dinner was over, we left the restaurant, our stomachs full and our spirits high. Aida rode on my shoulders, chattering about school and her rivalry with Cailen Dincht, her best friend and worst enemy.
"Micala?" a male voice asked from behind. For a second, I thought it was Gideon, but as I turned, I saw Gabriel and Maia Leonhart on their way into Nida's.
"Hey, stranger," I greeted. "I heard the news. Congrats, Maia."
"Thank you," she replied without much enthusiasm.
"Hey, some of us are meeting at the pub later," Gabriel said. "Think you can get away?"
I glanced at you and mom. Mom nodded and you winked. "Sure," I said.
"Cool. Looks like everyone's back, all at the same time," Gabriel said.
"For once," I replied.
"Well, I'll see you then,"
"How about a walk down to the harbor?" you asked. "It's a nice evening."
"Daddy wants you to see his new boat," Aida informed me.
The harbor was empty at that hour. All the boats had either gone out for the evening, or returned for the night. The wind was stiff, and the air smelled of salt. I understood why you loved the harbor so much. It was refreshing. Calm.
"Here she is," you said with pride as we stepped onto the brand new shrimp boat. I understood your pride. It was the first time you'd bought one new. The paint was still shiny, the red stripe down the side still a healthy shade of crimson. "Thunder, Wind & Fire Shrimp Co." was stenciled onto the side. "What do you think?"
"She's beautiful," I said and grinned. I was so proud of you that day, Daddy. "She have a name yet?"
"I was thinking of calling her 'Wet Dream,'" you said with a smirk.
Mom then slapped you on the arm playfully. "Little ears," she reminded you, glancing at Aida.
"Maybe tomorrow, we can take her out," you suggested.
"I'd like that."
We returned to our car, which was still parked at Nida's and you slipped a 100 gil bill into my hand. You were always giving me money, though I never asked, and never really needed it. "Have a good time, on me."
"I can't take this, dad," I said and handed the money back to you.
"Shut it," you commanded commanded. "Go, have fun."
"Thanks," I said, embarrassed.
"Just don't do anything I wouldn't do."
"There isn't exactly a long list of things you wouldn't do, dad. So that leaves me free to terrorize the neighborhood."
"All right, all right. Don't do anything your mother wouldn't do."
"Seifer," mom warned, but she laughed and gave me a knowing look. "Easy on the Tequila this time, ok?"
"Oh, come on," I protested with a laugh. "That was a one time thing. And it was four years ago. When are you going to give it up?"
"Never. And don't steal the boat," mom warned, favoring me with one of her stern teacher looks.
"I'll try my best not to," I said as if I was actually considering it. I gave each of you a hug, feeling a profound sense of love for for my family.
**********
"At least I don't wear it on my sleeve," I shot back. Hiro has always annoyed me. There's always been something about him that rubbed me the wrong way. I should have been able to blow him off, but I always ended up in a verbal war with him. I guess you'd understand because you felt the same way about his father, Zell. Still, just being in the same room with the kid makes me shoot off at the mouth. Mom says I intimidate him because I'm more than a head taller than he is. I'm just shy of six feet in my boots, you know. An even 5' 10 in my bare feet.
"So where you been? Out slicing and dicing with the almighty Hyperion?"
"Bite me, Dincht,"
"Uh, no thanks. Don't know where you've been."
"Call me when you reach puberty," I retorted, already bored with him, and feeling like I was back in the fifth grade.
His face reddened, but he couldn't think of anything creative to reply with, so he spat out, "Bitch," and pounded his fist against the edge of the pool table. I laughed and turned away from him, which made him even angrier. Things never changed.
At the bar, I ordered myself a shot of Tequila and was nearly knocked off my feet by a hug from Irving Kinneas, the eldest of the Kinneas clan. "Hey there sexy," he purred in my ear. "How about I take you back to my place, tie you up, and make mad, passionate love to you all night long?"
"In your dreams, horndog," I laughed.
He pretended to be hurt, then slapped me playfully on the backside. I punched him in the gut. When he recovered, he took a seat at the bar beside me and tipped his cowboy hat back on his head. "So, what'cha been up to? I haven't seen you in months."
"Big mission," I replied. "About to be sent back."
"That explains the tequila," he replied with an amused chuckle.
"I'll forgive that little remark if you buy me another," I said.
"My pleasure. In fact, I'll make it a double. Just promise, no crazy stunts, ok?"
"Promise," I agreed. "So, where's Delcie?"
"Oh, she'll be here in a while. You know it takes her hours to get ready."
"So, how 'bout you?" I asked. "Been keeping busy?"
"Yeah," he said. "Between missions, dad's ranch and my family, I don't have too much free time."
I know you can never keep the Kinneas family straight, so I'll refresh your memory. There are seven kids, ages four to twenty-two. I love their ranch. It reminds me of something out of an old western, except that the indians and bank robbers have been exchanged for guns, poorly behaved kids and chocobos.
By the time Delcie, Gabriel and Maia arrived, I was well on my way to intoxication. I was seriously beginning to think Irving the hornball was devising a plot to get me into bed with him, and was a little relieved to see my friends arrive.
"Kalie!" Delcie screeched and flung herself at me. "You look great! Your hair is so pretty that color."
"Can't wait till I can dye it back," I said. "Hey," I said to Gabriel. In his hand was his guitar case. "Are you going to be the entertainment tonight?"
"Later," he said. He was saving it for the beach. That's where we went after the bartenders kicked us out for being too rowdy. "Maia's going to sing."
"Really?" I asked. I didn't know that Maia could sing. She was so quiet, and so detached that I couldn't imagine her wanting to.
"So are we going to get this party started or what?" Irving asked.
"I'm ready to get crocked."
True to his word, once we had a bonfire going on the beach, Gabriel
unsheathed the guitar and began to play. It brought back memories
of when he and Gideon would do the very same thing on this very same beach,
both with guitar in hand, harmonizing together as only they could.
But Gideon was gone. That time was past.
When Maia began to sing, my skin grew cold and goose flesh raised along my arms and legs. Her voice was haunting, enchanting, high and clear, and full of something I'd never heard from her before. Actual emotion. The rest of the group was as transfixed as I. We all sat in silence, stunned and amazed. There was so much passion in her voice, something I didn't think she was capable of, and I envied her, and Gabriel too. All three of the Leonhart children had inherited something extra, a second talent that the rest of us didn't possess. Sure, we were all strong, talented fighters, skilled in our individual areas, but none of us excelled in other ways, or at least not to the degree that they did. All three of them could have had second careers as musicians. I guess that's a gift they got from their grandmother. I wonder what I got from mine.
No one moved when they finished playing. We were all breathless and fascinated. Finally, Irving began to clap and whistle, and the rest of us joined in.
It had been a long time since we'd been able to enjoy a night like this, when everyone was home and feeling up to a night of childish revelry. We talked about work. About Garden gossip, and then old times. It was nice to go back, but a little sad too, because almost every story involved Gideon or Julian, my beloved big brother.
"Remember the night we toilet papered the harbor?" Hiro asked. "Man that was crazy. We must have used every roll in town."
"Didn't Syla light a few of them on fire?" Maia asked.
"For the record, no. That was not me. I may work with bombs and pyrotechnics, but that wasn't me. Gideon did that," Syla Dincht said in defense of herself.
"Ok," Hiro said, "but you did light the jet ski on fire."
"Oh, my god," I exclaimed. "I forgot about that! Poor Julian. He'll never ride one of those things again as long as he lives."
"I don't blame him," Delcie said.
"What about the time Hiro got arrested for mooning the mayor's wife?" I asked, my side splitting with laughter. "The look on her face!"
"You had your moments, too Almasy," he said. "I distinctly remember you getting trashed on Tequila shots and convincing Gideon to help you steal your dad's sailboat."
"I remember," I said. Suddenly, I felt depressed. On that night, Gideon and I had made a promise as the boat cut a slick path through the inky waters. We'd promised to be together forever, to grow old together.
"You know," Delcie said. "Gabe's the only one of us who never got into trouble."
"That's because I'm smarter than you guys," Gabriel said with a grin.
The conversation turned to Gideon and why he'd left. Irving thought it was because he was embarrassed about his failures. Syla agreed. Hiro thought it was because he couldn't handle the pressure of the legacy, to which Delcie countered by saying his theory was crap. Only Gabriel, Maia and I kept our opinions to ourselves. I couldn't listen to anymore, so I stood and walked down to the water's edge.
The water was cool, but not cold, so I waded in until I was waist deep, allowing the waves to wash over me and soak through my clothes. All the while, I tried to understand why Gideon had left. For the thousandth time, I wondered why he'd suddenly seen me as his competition, when he'd been capable of more than I could ever have been. Had he felt that way all along or had something changed his mind? What about his family and friends? What had they done to betray him? Was there something he so desperately needed from us that we failed to give him?
It was four years ago that he left, but it still hurt to know he'd stopped loving me, that perhaps we'd all failed him without knowing it.
I'd cried the day he left because I was hurt, but also because I didn't understand. After that day of self-indulgence, I refused to cry over him ever again. Even though it still hurt, and I felt like crying some times, I couldn't bring tears to my eyes. No one knew how much it still hurt me that he was gone. Except for Gabriel. He always had the ability to read me, even when no one else could.
I finally emerged from the water, dripping and exhausted. My eyes stung from the salt and my hair was soaked. There was too much going on inside my head to return to the group in good spirits, so I collapsed into the sand, slightly chilled and feeling miserable. I lay back in the sand and stared up at the stars, wondering where Gideon was and what he might be doing.
Gabriel approached and sat down beside me, and he too lay back and locked his hands behind his head. He didn't say anything, nor did I. He didn't have to. Our friends discussing Gideon like he was a juicy bit of gossip had gotten to him too. No one realized that he felt like half of him was missing, and I felt for him.
"You still love him," he said. It wasn't a question.
"Am I a fool for still caring?"
"Am I?"
"Of course not. He's your blood."
"He left me too, you know," he whispered and rolled onto his side with his head propped on his hand. "And I miss him every day. I love him. But I hate him a little too. For leaving."
"Yeah," I whispered back. "Me too." I looked over at him and I could see in his eyes how much he missed him. His eyes shimmered with unshed tears and impulsively, I embraced him.
I was as surprised as he was by the gesture. You know I'm not the affectionate type and never have been, but somehow, it felt right. He buried his face in my neck and his hand twined in my hair. I could feel his tears on my skin and wished I could take away his pain.
I was about to lose control for the first time in four years, and cry it out myself, but I heard our friends laughing and calling out to us. I looked up to see them watching and whispering, and suddenly, I felt self conscious. Gently, I pushed him away. His expression was one of confusion.
Then he kissed me.
And I liked it. His mouth on mine was so tender, so sweet that I couldn't think, all I could do was kiss him back, my arms locked around his neck, his hand stroking my hair. There was something comforting in this, something almost familiar.
I almost let him do more, but I came to my senses and pulled away. I didn't need the confusion of a relationship when I was still trying to figure out where I went wrong with my first and only. And it didn't seem healthy to let myself become involved with someone who looked exactly like the one who broke my heart, no matter how sweet he may have been.
He looked at me with an unreadable expression and said, "Don't be afraid to love someone else, Micala. He's gone, and he's not coming back. Maybe we should move on. All of us."
He stood and walked away. I lay back in the sand, bewildered.