The Stones quietly entered the lobby of Hearts of Love Adoption agency just before nine in the morning. They were early and they were nervous. The Monday-morning, five-thirty alarm had been a rude, but necessary, awakening. Not only did they have to get ready, but the two-hour drive to Idaho Falls was completely unfamiliar to them. They had decided to skip the shorter route - the one up and over Teton Pass - because Gregory was unsure of the road conditions after the snow and didn't want to take any chances, particularly in the dark. That meant their route would be a bit longer anyways, so at 6:45am they hit the road. Samantha still wasn't completely back to normal, but a good night's sleep, a warm shower this morning, and a couple more crackers had made a world of difference.
The young lady at the front desk glanced up at them from her work, then did a double-take and looked them over again with a puzzled expression that vanished a moment later. She quickly got up and walked around to greet them. "Good morning! Welcome to Hearts of Love. How can I help you?"
Samantha smiled. "Greg and Samantha Stone. We're actually a little early."
"Oh yes, you two are about to have a baby. Congratulations! My name is Heidi Pressley, can I..."
Greg interrupted, "Are you...any relation...?"
She laughed and said, "You'd be surprised how many times I get that. I wish I was related," then she lowered her voice to a whisper, "I bet the money would be a lot better!" Resuming her normal voice, she added, "Sadly, the extra 's' in my last name kept me out of the will. Anyhow, what can I get you to drink?"
The couple sat in the lobby with bottles of water and Samantha nibbled another cracker. They shared a little small talk with Heidi, talking about Maine, where they were staying in Jackson, and some of their favorite vacation spots. Greg noticed that she eyed them rather curiously on a couple of occasions, but she was very kind and conversational as they waited.
When their caseworker came out to get them, Samantha told Heidi she had done a wonderful job keeping them company. Ms. Pressley just chuckled and said, "Thank you very much," using a very poor Elvis-style impersonation.
The man in charge of their adoption was William Stafford. After a bit of introduction, he got right to it. "Our three-day process might be a little different than others, but we think it works really well. Day one, that's today, involves an interview with me and going through the home study. I have that…" he dragged out the last word as he looked through the folder, before pulling out some papers, "...right here...let's see...ok, yeah, you're from Portland so you had a member of the Maine CFS do the study and send the results and photos to us. Perfect! We will go through this, your marriage history, financials - it's mostly boilerplate stuff. That is all for today. You'll be here less than four hours."
"Tomorrow will be more fun. You each have a one-on-one interview with an adoption counselor that lasts about ninety minutes. She's pretty in-depth and she gives the final go-ahead for the adoption." Greg and Samantha looked at each other, but Bill brushed off their worry. "To date, she's never had to issue a rejection, so there's no reason to think you'll be the first. Then you get to spend a few hours with the baby - holding him, feeding him, letting him sleep, changing diapers - just being parents a little bit. The counselor supervises that - to keep an eye on our children and to answer any questions you have."
"Assuming all green lights, Wednesday, you'll come back in the morning, fill out the final paperwork, hand us a check, and sign the adoption forms. If we start at nine, you will officially be parents before noon. I always say this as a reminder; make sure you have your infant seat in the car when you arrive Wednesday. The baby is not allowed to leave the building if you don't. Any questions before we get started?"
Samantha wondered if she could see their baby today, even if they couldn't yet hold him. Bill laughed. "Every mother asks us that, and the answer is always yes. We'll take you back to the nursery before you're done today."
The interview went well until Mr. Stafford delved into their marriage history. "It lists that you were married in September of 1991, but were briefly separated in early 1992. I'd like you to provide some detail."
Samantha looked down and spoke. "It wasn't an official separation, but yeah, that happened in April, right after we found out I couldn't have children."
Just eight months after they were married, two different doctors told the Stones that it was impossible for Samantha to conceive. She left the fertility clinic that final day crushed by the news, and overwhelmed with inadequacy. When Greg told her things would be fine as they got into their car, she glared at him and told him he was insensitive and didn't understand her. He tried to talk to her as they drove home, but it only made things worse. By the time they reached their driveway, they were screaming at each other. Greg drove straight into the garage so the neighbors wouldn't see or hear them.
They went to opposite ends of their home to cool off, but Samantha was clearly far from normal. She made dinner, but refused to eat with her husband, and slept in a different room that night. Greg had no inkling that it would be almost four months before she returned to his bed. The next morning, he went to work without his wife for the first time since they arrived in Portland - he reported her sick. When he returned home, Samantha was still in the spare bedroom. She rarely consumed alcohol, but she had spent the day working through most of a bottle of Jack. She was very drunk and reeked of alcohol. He looked at her - knowing there was no way to reason with her in that condition - and left the room. Samantha then started screaming at him for abandoning her. He simply couldn't win right now.
And so began the rapid disintegration of their marriage. Samantha's guilt was eating her alive. She blamed herself for her inability to get pregnant. She loved Gregory, but every time she saw his face, she saw behind him faces of the children she would never give him. They both wanted a family - their plan was for her to work until the second child came, then she would take on the job she really wanted - full-time motherhood. The picket fence. Her husband coming home each evening to play with their children. Baseball or soccer. Band concerts. Weekends at the beach. Vacations out West or down South. Watching the kids get off the bus. Taking pictures on the stairs before prom. The images were there and now they were shattered, and she was shattered with them. Her husband worked with children - loved them - and because of her, he wouldn't have any of his own.
Samantha knew about Lisa Powers, the busty night-shift manager at the hospital that had been after Gregory since they joined the staff at Maine Medical. She was a tramp, but she was gorgeous with a body made for sin, and she had planted a target on Mr. Stone. Gregory never talked about Lisa and only talked to her when it was necessary, but Samantha could see how Lisa was around him - the not-so-subtle touch of her hand on his arm, putting her arm lightly around his waist when asking a question, rubbing his shoulders, even brushing her ample chest across his arms. Her co-workers would whisper about how Lisa bragged that she could just say the word, and Greg would be hers. Sam passed by the cafeteria door one morning and overheard Lisa talking to another nurse. She paused out of sight long enough to hear Lisa speculating on the size of Gregory's private parts, and what she would do to confirm her guess. Samantha said nothing and just walked away, disgusted by the woman's total disregard for their marriage, and terrified of what she might try. She knew her husband loved her, but he was a man, and men didn't always think clearly.
Thus far, Greg had ignored Lisa's advances, but would he now? Samantha cared little anymore if he did or not. He could do what he wanted. He was perfect and she was broken beyond repair. It was only a matter of time until Lisa's charms - or some other woman's charms - won the day. He would eventually cast her aside, a broken toy thrown in the bin and replaced with something fully functional.
Samantha returned to work three days later, having decided a perpetual hangover promised very limited upside. But she wouldn't eat or sleep with Gregory and she wouldn't go to work with him. For his part, Greg tried everything to show her he loved her - flowers, gentleness, kindness, small gifts, suggesting a short vacation with her - whatever he could bring to mind. Nothing worked, and his attempts only served to highlight her own failures, fueling her bitterness and resentment. She wanted Gregory to hate her and when he didn't, her anger just got worse. She hated herself, she was beginning to hate her husband, she hated herself for hating her husband - she hated everything and it was swallowing her up. She was in a relational death spiral.
Bill asked, "Talk a little bit about the split." Greg took a deep breath. He knew this would hurt Sam all over again, despite the fact that they had completely reconciled.
"I finally packed a few bags and left," Samantha said quietly. "I was an emotional wreck at the time, so I went to stay with a woman I work with at the hospital and her husband."
Three weeks later, Gregory came home and she was standing inside the door with three bags. Samantha told him she couldn't live with the failure and his condemnation any longer and was leaving. He was stunned. "I need some time to think. I'm pretty sure you hate me now, but you just haven't figured out how to tell me." When he tried to protest and tell her he loved her, she slapped his face - hard - and yelled at him. "Why can't you ever let me finish? Shut your mouth and let me finish! Mary is coming to get me and I'm staying with them - for the time being. I'll still see you at the hospital, but don't talk to me and don't talk about me - just leave me alone for now and let me think."
After nearly a month of futility, stress, and wild emotional swings in the home, Gregory was actually a bit relieved. When Mary arrived - Mary Williston was one of their better friends at the hospital - Samantha walked past her husband and out to the car without looking back. Mary came up to get the last bag, but paused on the way out. She could see the red hand print on the left side of his face. "I'm so sorry for this, Gregory. Please don't be angry with us. I want you to know I'm on your side - Samantha isn't herself and she's making a big mistake. When she told me she was moving out, Chuck and I volunteered to take her in because, in the wrong company, she's in a position to make much bigger mistakes that she - and the two of you - can't fix. We want to prevent that and this way, you'll know she's safe. Be patient with her - I've got some ideas my husband and I will try. And watch out for Powers at work. She knows you and Samantha are struggling and she told a couple of nurses she'll be your lover inside of two weeks. She's gunning for you."
Greg responded immediately. "My wife has nothing to worry about where Lisa Powers is concerned."
Bill looked at the two of them. "Samantha, how long were you away from your husband and what caused things to turn around?"
"I was gone ten...no, eleven weeks. Things improved because the time apart allowed us - mostly me - to think through things and get my head screwed on properly again. And I got some good advice from family and from Mary, the lady I stayed with."
Greg spoke up. "And eventually we got connected with an excellent counselor that really understood our situation. She could sympathize with us and offer a lot of great advice."
Things came to a head when Samantha visited her parents six weeks after she moved out of her home. Greg had mostly honored her request to stay away, sending only a few brief letters to her, telling her he still loved her and always would, regardless of whether they had children. But Samantha couldn't face him any longer and had very quietly gone to a lawyer and drawn up papers for a legal separation, the first step to divorce. Her dad called Greg on occasion and, to this point, Greg had said nothing about their marital strife, much less the fact that Sam was living elsewhere, wanting to protect her honor and concerned her parents would be angry with him.
So when Samantha arrived at her parents' place and, two days later, told them what had happened with Greg, she was shocked at their response. Instead of sympathy and compassion, they were furious with her. Sam's mother couldn't believe they had raised a daughter that would be so self-centered and selfish as to walk away from a man that loved her because of hard news. "Honey, you've seen your dad and I argue on many occasions. We've had dreams shattered and hopes unfulfilled throughout our married life, and when did I ever pack up my bags and walk out on him or you girls?"
When Samantha defended her actions, her father stepped in. "Is Greg sleeping around on you?" She shook her head. "Is he abusing you in any way - any way at all?" Again, she shook her head. "Then you have no defense, Samantha! Life threw you a curve and you simply chose to run away rather than work through it with a man you pledged your life to. I don't know where you learned that, but it wasn't under this roof!"
And then he pointed his finger at her and gave her an ultimatum. "Young lady, you go to counseling with Gregory and at least try to work things out, or you can forget about being welcome in our home. We love you and we always will, but as your father, I will not tolerate this behavior from you! I know you are an adult who is free to make her own decisions, but so am I. You're on a course to destroy two lives and that's not acceptable." He paused, his face red with anger. "And another thing...I'm not really interested in having you in our home while you're tearing your own apart. You can stay tonight, but tomorrow morning after breakfast, I want you to leave. Your visit with us is over! Go where you will, but I highly suggest you return to Portland and your husband!"
Stan turned and walked out of the room, leaving his daughter devastated and crying like a baby. It had been years since dad had been so angry and harsh with her. She turned and hugged her mother, who returned her embrace and said, "You know I love you, sweetheart, and so does your father, more than you could ever know. But he has spoken and I agree with him. Go home, get your act together, and try to fix this!"
She left her parents' home and returned to the Williston's, who had been pushing her all along to visit a marriage counselor. After several more conversations with Mary and a lot of soul-searching, Samantha put her wedding ring on again and spoke to her husband over the phone for the first time in more than two months. He was shocked to hear her voice and began crying, which caused Sam to break down as well. They spoke for only a few minutes and it was awkward, but it was a start. That phone call led to another two days later, then another the following day.
Samantha was afraid to ask her husband about counseling, fearing a refusal, but she did and Greg readily accepted. Mary had given her the name of good marriage counselor in Portland and, a week later, they had their first session. To their surprise, the counselor was also unable to have children, and so she gave the Stones a lot of great advice, including the idea of adopting. The counselor helped both of them work through their hurts and anger, to the point where they could talk to each other at work and on the phone.
Four weeks after their sessions started, Greg was sitting in the living room when the phone rang. He answered and it was Mary. "Hi Greg. Um...your wife has something to ask you..." After a pause, Samantha's voice was on the other end, sounding timid and terrified. "Gregory, I want to come home. Will you let me come home?" Then all he heard were sobs. Mary got back on the line and said, "I don't know if you got that, but Samantha wants to come home and hopes you're alright with it." Gregory could only cry and Mrs. Williston had his answer. She added, "Listen, she's carrying a lot of guilt for what has happened - go easy on her and be patient. I think the worst is over."
Bill smiled, "Just one more question about this, and I need you to both be honest with me. When you got back together, how did things go?"
Greg looked at his wife. "I think we initially walked on eggshells around each other, but Sam was great. She was very patient, very honest about her feelings, and very willing to work with me to rebuild trust and our relationship."
Samantha's eyes were moistening with the memories and she added, "Gregory's being modest. I left a wreck and, if I'm being honest, I was terrible to him - just...selfish and mean and nasty and...terrible. But he opened the door, let me take things at my pace, and he just loved me."
Greg Stone did his best to welcome her back, but she was very tentative at first. She moved back into the spare bedroom - this time with no alcohol - and worked to reintegrate into his life. There were little milestones along the way - riding to work together again, talking with each other in the evenings, going out on a date, moving back into his bedroom and sleeping in the same bed. Slowly, life returned to normal.
He never talked about her leaving unless she brought it up to discuss it. He never held it over her to gain advantage - the counselor said that would be awful for both of them. There was one last step, however, Samantha knew she had to take - one final confession before she could be free again. Mary told her she needed to and her mother said it would really help, because Greg still had no idea about the separation papers. She needed to come completely clean with him.
One evening after dinner, she knew it was time and she retrieved the manila envelope from the bottom of her dresser drawer. With her stomach in knots and her hands shaking badly, she handed it to Greg and simply said, "You need to see this, and I'm so sorry."
Greg tapped it in his hand a couple of times before looking at his wife and asking one question. "After I look at this, what are you going to do?"
Poor Samantha was broken and could barely speak. "I'm going to pray that you forgive me, and I'm going to take it out to the fire pit and burn it."
Greg looked at the envelope and then smiled. "I might know what this is, and I don't need to see it. I forgive you. But if a fire is what you want, I'll go with you - to watch with you...and to make sure you don't burn the place down."
She wept as the flames grew and turned the envelope black, consuming the culmination of the poor decisions she had made the last several months and, in a way, re-igniting her love for her husband. For Greg, with his arm around her shoulder, it felt like a new beginning. When no more than a few ashes remained, they walked hand-in-hand back to their home.
One month later, they flew both sets of parents into Portland. In the small chapel of a local church, Greg and Samantha Stone stood in front of a minister and renewed their wedding vows to each other with their parents - and the Willistons - as witnesses. Other than the minister, there wasn't a dry eye in the place. Greg and Samantha Stone were husband and wife again.
Bill smiled, "And now? How would you characterize things in your home?"
"I'll answer this," Samantha paused to wipe her eyes with a Kleenex. "I adore my husband. I will love him until the day I die - and beyond that, if it's allowed. I know Greg loves me. No woman could be happier than I am. I want my husband to be a father as much as I want to be a mother. He'll be a very good one."
Greg added, "I adore her husband, too." They shared a good laugh before he continued. "That was a really hard time. I don't want anyone else to go through it, and I don't want to ever go through it again. But I learned an awful lot from the experience - mostly about how to respond to the harsh realities of life, how to cope, and how to help my wife cope. I know Sam learned a lot, too. We're almost two years out from all that and we're committed to each other. When the opportunity to adopt this baby came along, we believed we were ready to be parents. We still believe it."
The rest of the interview process went without a hitch. The home study done by the Maine representative was incredibly detailed. "The woman - Renee was her name if I recall - met with Greg and I three separate times, she walked the house and property, looked at the baby's room..."
Bill chimed in, "Yeah, the pictures are here and it's beautiful..."
"So yeah, we really liked her, too. We're doctors, so we get the whole 'being clinical' when doing your work - and she was that - but she was very pleasant and personable."
Before they left, Bill gave them a quick tour of the small facility and then they walked to the nursery. A nurse was in the room and Samantha's heart melted - there were four little babies, each wrapped in blankets and wearing a tiny stocking cap. Three blue caps and a lone pink, worn by a face that suddenly contorted as she started to cry.
Bill smiled, "Well, it looks like our little diva needs fed or a diaper changed."
Greg looked at Bill. "So which of the boys..."
"He's the boyfriend, so we parked him right next to the little girl."
Greg smiled and put his arm around his wife, "You think he'll do?"
Samantha said nothing for a minute, just staring at the little bundle in the bassinet and wiping tears from her eyes. She leaned against her husband and put her hand on his chest. "He's just beautiful. The most precious little thing." She looked through the glass again and said quietly, "Hello, Daniel James Stone. Welcome to our world."
Bill smiled. "Daniel James - I like the name. You'll find out all the detail tomorrow, but he's five weeks old and he was born in South Korea - his mother was just fourteen and her parents would not let her even try to raise him. He's a beautiful little boy."
As they walked out, they stopped at Heidi's desk to thank her. She put down the newspaper she was looking at and shook their hands. "Congratulations again, Mr. and Mrs. Stone. I bet I will see you tomorrow. Drive safely."
"We'll be here - 9:30 again."
The Stones headed back to Jackson and before they got to their hotel, Greg stopped to fill the car's tank. Samantha went ahead and called the hospital administrator from the pay phone to say hello, but he wanted to get together for a late lunch, if the two of them had an hour to spare from the slopes and the adoption.
"You on a diet, Rita?" Captain Hudson couldn't help but notice that she was just picking at her food and lost in thought. Rather than speaking over the phone, he had discovered a bar in downtown Jackson that had excellent food. Because it was just two-thirty, there were only two other people sitting in the place, and they were at the bar deep into conversation and stout mugs of beer.
"It's been a rough eighteen hours, Captain," she answered, not showing a lot of emotion.
He gave them a sidelong glance with his eyes narrowed. "Are you guys alright? Is everything ok?"
"Yeah, Rita...well, she got pretty sick last night. We stopped at a place in Yellowstone and what she ate must have been spoiled."
Rita looked up, "Yeah, and Chris had to clean it up, bless his heart." She squeezed his leg under the table. "Anyways, so I think things went well today. The pictures of the house in Maine, the nursery, and the home study were perfect. The people that did all the background work should be commended. They've done a fantastic job."
Hudson smiled. "Yes, they have. But you're the ones putting yourselves in the line of fire, so tell me more."
"They have four babies in there right now, Cap! Four beautiful little babies. I looked at them and I was just furious, knowing somewhere there are four mothers whose lives have been destroyed by their loss. I cried for that beautiful little baby we are adopting, but even more for his mom. Bill Stafford told us she was fourteen - nice cover story, but probably a lie."
Chris sketched a quick layout of the interior of the building on a couple of napkins - as much as they had seen - and began to point. "Front door, front desk and waiting area here. Just the receptionist is there. Her name is Heidi Pressley..." Captain Hudson looked up and Chris added, "No relation. Hallway here with rooms on either side. The doors are not staggered, so it will be difficult to clear one without being exposed to the other.
"We'll need two teams, Left and Right, to move down the hallway. Continue..."
Chris pointed. "I counted six doors in the hall. The last door on the right is the nursery, but it has three big windows so you can see that easily. There is also a door at the end of the hall - no idea who or what is there. It might be a back exit, but..." he shrugged.
"Souls?"
Rita spoke up. "The receptionist - female. The nurse - female. The adoption counselor, who we didn't see today but is female. Our case worker - male. I saw three others, all men, between the offices. So at least seven. We will count again tomorrow and report any new faces. I assume that six of those are capable of shooting back and the receptionist, if she's not part of it, is their cannon fodder. They'll let her absorb the first bullets if they fly.
"Electronics?"
"Computers at every desk that I saw. There might be a server somewhere. If so, you'll want to take that quickly before they destroy it. Standard break-in alarms on the front door, no idea about that other door. Closed-circuit cameras outside the building under the canopy, and inside behind the receptionist. I saw two cameras in the nursery on the back wall pointing out toward the hallway. Anything I missed, Rita?"
"Just a couple things. There is an omni-directional camera in the hall on the ceiling," Chris shook his head, surprised that he had not seen it, "and a camera where that back door is. There's also a small door on the wall back there. It might be your circuit panel. The nursery door has a keypad on it."
"Wow! Good eyes, Sam!"
"And one other thing. That woman with the babies had a neck and shoulders like a linebacker. She might be a nurse, but if she's only a nurse, then I'm an astronaut."
The Captain looked at them both. "Yeah. All right, this layout is very helpful. You think Wednesday for the cavalry to move in?"
The two detectives nodded and Captain Hudson smiled. "Great work. Based on your information, I think eight men for the breach and six for containment should do. Our 'surprise' factor will be limited thanks to their surveillance, so we will have to move quickly. Our meeting tomorrow will include two members of the take down team. We'll set up the final tactics and make sure everyone is in agreement."
"One last thing. You two have final approval on the plan we set down tomorrow, because you won't have any protection or weapons. If there's anything you don't like, so say and we'll modify."
"Gregory, could we stay in town and go through some of the shops again for a while before dinner?" Their meeting with Jenkins was over and the two of them were heading for the car.
Greg turned away from Samantha and grimaced before looking at her with a smile, "Yeah, we could poke around for a bit, and we need a car seat for Wednesday. You want to walk from here or should we move the car closer?"
Samantha squeezed his hand through her glove and answered. "It's not too terribly cold this afternoon. Let's walk. And I saw that look, by the way..."
Greg laughed and mumbled, "Yeah, I have to learn to hide that better," earning himself a rap on the bottom from his wife.
They passed a gallery and Greg paused to look at the artwork in the window. "You know, Sam, we have wanted something for that wall on the landing. Maybe a Wyoming-type picture - as a reminder of our trip - would look good. Do you mind if I browse through here?"
Samantha laughed, "A reminder besides Daniel James? Really?" When Greg tried to correct himself, she tapped his arm. "I'm just giving you grief. Take your time and look all you want, but if you find anything you like, we should look at it together before you buy. I'm going to keep moving. Let's meet at that store where you bought the clothes - it's just up the street there. Forty-five minutes or so?"
Greg headed into the gallery and Sam made her way up the street, actually ending up back at the outfitter store. She was browsing through and an idea struck her just as a store clerk - the same one that helped her Thursday - walked over. "Welcome back...um...don't tell me...Samantha?" Mrs. Stone nodded in appreciation of her memory - that was always good for customer service. "So, that outfit your husband bought...?"
"It was perfect and a really nice surprise! I love it, and Gregory loved it even more." She lowered her voice. "I wore it Saturday night to dinner and he got a little handsy with me under the table..."
Katherine laughed, "I'm not surprised. You looked gorgeous in it. I won't intrude on your shopping, unless I can help you with something..." she let the statement dangle as a question.
"Actually, I was looking for something for Gregory."
Katherine chuckled and pointed, "A little payback, huh? Our men's section is over there. I can show you. We're starting to get summer clothes now, but we still ha..."
Samantha put her hand on Katherine's arm, interrupting her with a smile. "No, I want something for Greg, but..." she again lowered her voice, "...I want to wear it. Do you have anything like that?"
"Oh..." She smiled at Samantha, speaking softly as well. "Honestly, we don't have much lingerie, just a few things, and nothing vampy or outrageous - we're not Frederick's of Hollywood. But I'll show you what we have. I also have a couple of non-lingerie options I think you'll like. I happen to think 'understated' is really sexy, and I'm guessing a t-shirt on your body could make your husband drool!"
Samantha spoke softly again. "Well, I want him to pant a little. Do you have anything in the 'make-him-pant' category?"
"Come with me..."
She saw Gregory walking up the sidewalk towards her and felt a little giddy. That happened to her a lot, but her surprise for him added to the excitement. Katherine had put her purchase in a plain paper bag, so as not to give anything away. She heard a quiet voice - the voice of Rita Lance - warning her against pushing limits like this, but Samantha Stone wasn't listening anymore. The interview with Stafford today had brought up all the awful memories of her separation from Greg. Her terrible behavior, the two days in a drunken stupor, and the way his attempts to save their marriage made her want to strangle him. The knowledge that at one point, she actually hated her husband. The images in her mind of evil Lisa Powers, spending wild nights in their bed while she was at the Williston's, working over her husband with that beautiful body and making him forget all about his wife. All of that was vile now...grotesque - the thoughts almost made her physically sick - and she wanted her mind as far away from them as possible. That was most easily remedied by having Gregory as close to her as possible. She hoped the contents of the bag would help with that.
"Hi! Did you find anything for the house?"
"No, there wasn't anything in the size we need for that spot, but if we decide to remodel our office, they do have some scenery stuff that I think you'll love. Shipping it to Maine will probably cost a fortune, but it would be perfect." He glanced at the bag she was carrying. "What did you get?"
"Just a little something - a souvenir of our trip out here."
"Great! You want to keep shopping or go eat dinner? You barely touched your lunch and I'm buying," he added with a wink.
"Yeah, I'm hungry, but I want to go home."
"Sam, are you still not feeling well?"
"I feel pretty good, but I just want to be alone with you. I don't want to share you with anybody tonight. Tomorrow we'll be meeting with Richard in the evening and the following night," her face brightened, "we'll have Daniel James. Let's order room service, have a quiet dinner, the fireplace - just us. Are you alright with that?"
Greg smiled. "I can't think of too many things I'd enjoy more. Let's go!"
Samantha kissed his cheek. "You endured more shopping this afternoon. If there's time tomorrow, we'll hit the slopes again. Sound good?"
"Samantha? Samantha Stone?" The unfamiliar voice made them both turn and look. It took a moment to register, but then...
"Well, hello there, Heidi! This is a pleasant surprise!"
Heidi Pressley walked up, arm-in-arm with a handsome young man. "Wow! What are the odds I would run into you two? This is my boyfriend, Alex Evans. We've been dating almost seven months. Alex, these are the Stones, Greg and Samantha. I met them this morning at work. They're adopting a little boy."
Greg smiled at the younger couple. "Yes, we are. Do you live here in Jackson? That's a huge drive to make every day!"
"No. Alex lives here. I live in Idaho Falls, so we travel to see each other. I got off work a little early - just after you left this afternoon - so I came over here. We were just heading back to my car so I could get started back home when I saw you standing."
"And Greg and I had just finished a bit of shopping and we're heading home to eat and relax. We are staying up at the Village - Teton Mountain Lodge."
Heidi smiled, "Well, we'll keep moving. Have a nice evening and I'll see you tomorrow."
The Stones walked into their room and Samantha exhaled. "It's nice to be here. We're not going anywhere else tonight!" She and Greg picked out their dinners from the menu, but when Greg picked up the phone to place the order, Sam shook her head. "Not yet. Go get a shower and change your clothes."
"Sam, I took a shower this morning. Why do I have to clean up bef..."
"I'm not asking you. That's an order. I'm going to shower, too, but go get started."
When Greg came out of the bedroom after cleaning up, he smiled. His wife had set the little table with dinner dishes and two candles were burning in the center. She had turned the lights down and two more candles were lit above the fireplace, which was crackling in the background. The room was warm and very cozy. Romantic. "Oh Greg, you look so handsome." He had put on a long-sleeved mock turtleneck and a pair of dark jeans. Samantha walked over and hugged him, taking his hands. "Mmm...and you smell fantastic!" She reached up and kissed him.
Greg wrinkled his nose. "And you stink! You need to hose yourself off! I'm not sure I'll be able to sit at the table with you." She laughed and headed for the bathroom, carrying the bag from the store.
Greg was putting their dinner on the table when Samantha walked out. "Hey Sam, they just brought dinner and everything's hot..." He glanced up at her and then looked down at the food. It took a moment for her appearance to register in his brain, but when it did...
Greg Stone was stunned and he looked up again, staring with his mouth open. His wife was a vision! He didn't know if she was wearing an evening cocktail dress or a nightie, but it didn't matter. Whatever it was, it was breathtaking! Samantha was in a black dress - if you could call it a dress - with a deeply plunging neckline. It was tied by a single strap behind her neck and ended with a little flair just below her thighs. It hugged every curve of her perfect figure.
"Samantha Lynn...I..." he stuttered and stammered before simply giving up. "Every time I think you can't be more sexy and beautiful than you are, you go off and prove me wrong. You look...dazzling - and why are you blushing?"
"You're embarrassing me, Gregory. I just wanted to look really nice for you tonight."
"Well, you look gorgeous every night, but this...this is incredible!"
Greg pulled her chair out for her and she sat down. Greg leaned down and kissed her neck. "Mmm...and you smell fabulous, too! What is that perfume you're wearing?"
"It's new. It's called Two-Kiss."
"Wow! I love it! Feel free to wear it any time."
The dinner was fantastic, but Gregory was too taken with his wife to really taste anything. Everything else - the cutting of the knife, lifting each bite with the fork, chewing, swallowing - were just culinary distractions to the main attraction sitting across the table. Samantha was trying to be casual with her husband, but she knew her outfit was driving him crazy. She laughed to herself, knowing she was getting a little payback for the way he had gotten her so worked up the night before last. This kind of revenge was the best kind.
Greg cleaned up after dinner and his wife continued to torment him, walking through the kitchen area and brushing her fingers against his bottom as he washed the dishes, running her hands across his back and up his neck. She grabbed a towel and dried the plates, just so she could rub her thighs on his hips. She could see her husband getting a little short of breath - this was sweet torture for him.
When cleanup was done, she took his hand and led him to the sofa, where he sat down. She grabbed a blanket, pulled it over them, and snuggled into her husband. His hand wrapped around her body, resting on the fringe of her dress that was at her thigh. He moved the fabric aside and rested his hand on bare skin, his hand molding to her hip. Greg looked at her and asked, "What is it with you and undergarments? You have an aversion all of a sudden?"
She leaned in and planted several kisses on the on the fabric that covered his chest. "I didn't have any underwear that worked with this outfit. Do you..." she put her lips on his, forcing his mouth open with her tongue before pulling away and exhaling, "...want me to go put something else on?"
"Absolutely not!"
They sat quietly for a couple of minutes before she laid her hand on top of his. She took a deep breath. "Gregory, there's something I need to ask you. I've wanted to ask since our separation ended, but have been afraid to. I'm afraid of making you angry and I'm afraid of the truth."
"Sam, that was almost two years ago. It's old news now, so I'm pretty sure I won't be angry and I promise to tell you the truth."
"Ok. Well, I only thought about it today because it came back to me during the interview, but I have to admit, I thought about it an awful lot in the past." She paused for a moment. "Lisa Powers. Did you sleep with her when I left?"
Greg was astonished. "You've been thinking about that for nearly two years and haven't asked me? Seriously? Why?"
"Please don't get mad. Like I said, I didn't want to know the answer, and things were so good with us after all that. I just didn't want to rock the boat. I really think she was after you, and had she not transferred, she still would be."
"Ok, well, first off, I'm not angry, but I wish you would have asked me about Lisa way back. I could have spared you two years of wondering and simply told you 'absolutely not'. Sam, I never had anything to do with Lisa other than work at the hospital. I knew she was a come-on. All of us doctors knew that, and several mentioned she was after me - no idea why, but she was. In fact, the day you left our home, Mary warned me about Lisa - said she was coming for me. But nothing happened. I told you then that I loved you and Lisa Powers wasn't going to change that. Is that what..." he paused briefly to rub the smooth skin of her thigh, "...all this tonight is about?"
"No, no. Please don't think that. During the interview today, so many awful things came back. The terrible things I said and did - things I thought were long gone from my memory. Lisa was just one of them. After this morning, all I could think about was showing you how much I love you - and that I'll never leave you again - ever. I couldn't bear living without you."
"Hey..." Greg whispered as he squeezed her tightly, planting several kisses against her hair, "I'll never stop loving you, either."
They sat quietly for a couple of minutes and Samantha could feel the heat starting to build in her. Greg turned on the TV and started flipping through the channels. She was hoping he would find an old movie, just for background noise, but options were very limited. He stopped on an NBA game, and Samantha waited patiently for him to change the channel. When he didn't, she shifted her body ever so slightly, just enough so that Greg's hand had a tiny bit more of her backside. Her husband, however, was getting into the game, his hand now absentmindedly rubbing her skin. She exhaled a couple of times - still he didn't figure it out. After a thunderous dunk by some Clipper named Wilkins and a little fist pump from Gregory, she said quietly, "Ok...", and reached over, taking the remote from his hand and thumbing the power button.
Greg looked at her in the sudden silence of the room, no noise louder than the simulated crackling from the gas fireplace. If he couldn't understand 'subtle hint'..."Gregory, don't you want to make out for a while?"
"What?" Greg asked with a laugh. "Sam, what are we, fifteen?"
"I hope not. The first time I made out with a boy - Robert Jorgensen was his name - I was fifteen. Daddy caught me kissing him and Bobby's hands were behind my neck. I thought Bobby was a dead man. He ran out of the house like a scalded cat and, oh, did I get it! An angry Stan Burrows was something to behold, but best not experienced with you on the receiving end."
She got up and turned around, straddling her husband's lap and facing him, pulling the blanket over them and putting her arms around his neck. "But I'm not fifteen tonight, my love..."
"You're definitely not fifteen..." Greg said in agreement, running his hands from her hips up the smooth fabric of her dress.
"...and Daddy is a long ways away..." she whispered before she kissed him, allowing her lips to only just graze his.
"...he most certainly better be..."
"...and your hands can start at my neck...oh...!" she gasped as he turned her head and ran his tongue behind her ear, then down her neck. "...but they better...Gregory!...they better not stay there..."
Heidi Pressley walked through the front door of her apartment and exhaled deeply. The two-hour drive from Jackson always wore her out, but the time with Alex had been fantastic! They often walked the streets of Jackson when she came to visit, and while Alex would have rather been doing other things - skiing, snowmobiling, hiking, pretty much anything else - he tolerated it. It never got boring for Heidi, because she loved the little shops and stores, and there was just enough turnover in inventory to keep things interesting. Today she had purchased a couple of pictures for the bedroom wall - a light shopping day when compared with previous trips.
It had been a real surprise to run into Greg and Samantha Stone while downtown. They seemed like such a nice couple and they clearly loved each other. And it was weird, almost like Deja-vu, because they seemed so familiar. Heidi was sure she had seen them before, even when they first walked through her door at work, but she knew no one from Maine. She shook her head, laughing at the way the mind sometimes worked. They were both doctors, so they probably had money, unless college or medical-school debt still crippled them.
College. She laughed aloud as she took off her coat. Two years in junior college had been the extent of her higher education before she left school - against her parents' wishes - and headed west for the mountains and the scenery. Heidi promised her folks that she would earn a degree at some point, but now was not that point. She was having too much fun. Being a receptionist at Hearts of Love would never make her wealthy, but the pay was good given what was required in her job description - answer phones, file papers, and work with customers who were always excited and happy because they were getting a child. Overall, pretty good.
Heidi had several very close friends in Idaho Falls and they liked to travel around the area on day trips, just exploring the little towns and looking for obscure treasures. That was how she met Alex. She and her girlfriends had driven to Jackson to shop and he was their waiter at lunch. He was so cute - and funny! He had them in stitches on several occasions, and he had smiled at her several times. As they were leaving, he asked if he could call her sometime. She gave him her number and told him she lived across the state line, figuring she wouldn't hear from him again. She was wrong, and now she really liked him. Alex was good-looking, possessed an incredibly dry sense of humor, and wasn't self-absorbed. And he was athletic, sort of like her younger brother David.
David Pressley. He was the reason she hadn't taken more flack for leaving school. His star-power shone so brightly that it cast deep shadows where Heidi could easily hide. He was a three-sport star in this, his senior season of high school. The University of Miami was courting him as an all-state wide receiver. He was a nineteen-point, ten-rebound-per-game machine on the basketball court. He was being scouted by both the Atlanta Braves and a new team, the Florida Marlins, for his three-pitch arsenal and a fastball that topped ninety-five on the gun. Rumor had it that David could be drafted in the second or third round of the upcoming baseball draft.
David was the man, and he could do no wrong. She loved her kid brother, but was also a little jealous of his success, and the way mom and dad doted on him. Once a month, mom would send her a package. It wasn't a care package with cookies or some socks or a twenty-dollar bill, and it wasn't a gift or a letter wanting to catch up. Rather, she sent the local newspapers showing David's latest exploits. There were box scores, line scores, or photographs of David making a leaping grab in the end zone - maybe an interview. Every month, just like clockwork, the package would arrive. Eight or nine newspapers in a box - the regular reminder that her brother was headed for stardom and her life was, by comparison, safely mired in boredom.
She set the pictures down on the table and looked at the newspapers stacked there. Her mom sent them two weeks ago, and they covered his basketball exploits for a month, starting in mid-February. There were also two or three baseball interviews in there - he was a regular guest of the papers. She had already gone through this batch once last week, but had yet to cut out the stuff she wanted to keep. Yeah, she was jealous of David, but Heidi was still the older sister and wanted mementos of his rise to inevitable fame.
With Alex not here and nothing better to do, she flopped down, grabbing the newspaper with the full-page-David-Pressley feature in it and flipping through the pages to the sports section. There it was, and because it was a full page, she could cut it with her eyes closed. She glanced at the opposite page as she grabbed her scissors, skimming its contents. Her eyes fell on a picture there. She looked at it, then studied it more closely. Her eyes got as big as saucers. It was Greg and Samantha Stone - it had to be! That's where she had seen them - in the paper! She glanced at the text surrounding the photo and the scissors fell from her hand, her mind beginning to race. "What? This can't be right!" she whispered to the empty kitchen. Something was very wrong. She looked around the room, trying to think, and hoping a solution would jump from behind the counter.
Samantha Stone was walking with a camel on a beach as the sun dropped below the horizon. Looking to the right, she could see the deep violet of the night sky that was fast creeping up over the mountains, replacing the daytime glow on her left. She paused to take in the beauty of the moment and the camel stopped, waiting for his owner to continue. Suddenly the bell from her elementary school was ringing - she would never forget that sound. It rang, then stopped ringing, then rang again. The camel was gone and she looked toward the water, deeply puzzled, as the ringing pattern continued. Then consciousness seeped in and she stirred, peeking open her eyes in the dark amidst a tangle of her own curls, bed sheets, and the warm, sweet-smelling flesh of her husband. Her left arm was draped across his chest and his left arm was crooked under her neck.
She sighed with contentment and kissed his skin - and the school bell rang yet again, which she now recognized as the phone. Gregory groaned but didn't move - he could sleep through an explosion - so she slithered over his bare chest. She moaned lightly at his cologne, which was almost enough to cause her to ignore the phone and wake him up again. Instead, she picked up the receiver, croaking into the mouthpiece, "You had better be on fire..."
"Hello, Rita?" said a voice.
Samantha groaned, slurring the words of her response, "I'm sorry. You have the wrong number..."
"Is this Rita Lance?"
Sam became a little more strident - sleep was courting her heavily, "No it's not. I said you have the wrong number..." She glanced at the clock, which was staring back with a '2:50am' on its face, "...and it's almost three in the morning! Go away..." She dropped the receiver back on the cradle.
Instantly awake, Rita shook Chris lightly and whispered, "Christopher! Wake up!"