SSD: Plane Trust Chapters 7-10
By BPlusWriter
February 2022 to March 28, 2023
Author's Note: This is a continuation of Signed Sealed Delivered: Plane Trust. You should read the first 6 chapters first. I have written this in much the same style as the SSD movies are presented which I hope is obvious. As I mentioned in the first author's note, there may be similarities to other SSD fan fictions but I hope no direct quotes. If you see something you feel is verbatim please let me know. I love Oliver, Shane, Rita and Norman and want to write well for them. Thank you Martha Williamson for the use of your wonderfully unique SSD characters and their stories as background in the DLO. This is the middle section of this story Plane Trust. Come back for the ending of this foray into the Signed Sealed Delivered world we love.
Fourth Story: Discovery
Chapter 7
The next morning, Oliver called to make an appointment with a Rolf Thomas and was told 11 a.m. would be good. So, box with toy airplane inside tucked under his arm, Oliver reminded Shane to bring the letter. She held it up for him to see, then tucked it into her purse/computer bag. They decided it would be best to withhold information about the coin and microfiche until they learned more of the recipient's side of the story. Although they both could be personal family possessions belonging to Rolf Thomas' family, it would be necessary to talk to Dale about the possibility of the items being part of a government operation given what they had been told about where and when the package originated. When Oliver looked at the microfiche at the library, the letters and numbers printed thereon were indecipherable, obviously in some kind of code. Oliver had called Dale's office and left a message.
Oliver drove he and Shane to International Transport which was located close to the airport while Shane continued searches for "Rolf/August/Granville Thomas on her computer.
The young man who met them at the front reception desk greeted them formally, extending his hand for the obligatory handshake. "Come to my office where we can talk," he said. "I'm very curious to see what you found. I am a bit surprised you found me at all."
Oliver and Shane crowded in the small windowless office of the pleasant, but nondescript, short man who had ushered them in past numerous overflowing offices. After finding a letter addressed to a young Rolf August Granville Thomas decades ago, who would certainly be older than they were themselves, it was somewhat odd to Shane and Oliver to find a young man.
After politely declining a cup of coffee, Oliver and Shane waited patiently while Mr. Thomas took this opportunity to pour himself a cup. Once settled in his chair, he looked expectantly toward them.
Oliver began his explanation. "I am Oliver O'Toole from the United States Post Office, the Dead Letter Department. This is my wife, Shane, our IT expert, who found you online. We have recovered a very old package mailed from England to deliver to a Mr. Rolf August Granville Thomas. However, judging by the age of the person addressed as such in this letter, that person would not be you. Is there anyone in your family who would have been related to a Rolf August Granville Thomas of England or an Alastair Thomas of England during World War II?"
The young man smiled and said, "Yes, I was named after my father and grandfather. My great-grandfather was Alastair Thomas of London. My family chose not to use the surnames of senior and junior. I am the third Rolf August Granville Thomas. We have rather dropped the 'Granville'."
Oliver continued his explanation. "The address on the outside of the package had been damaged so much it could not be determined. There was a letter accompanying the package that appears to have been written to a young man by the name of Rolf. In the letter, the name of a relative, a James Whitfield, and his address was included. We tracked Mr. Whitfield down and he gave us your name, or perhaps the name of someone related to you. Can you verify any of this information?"
Mr. Thomas nodded and said, "You do indeed have the right family, but not the right member of the family. My grandfather and I share the same name, Rolf August Granville Thomas. We both go by our middle name, August. The package was mailed to my grandfather probably by his father, my great-grandfather, Alastair Thomas, who lived in and around London.
"We don't make it easy for anyone to find us. We're a solitary lot, I'm afraid," said Mr. Thomas.
Oliver bounced a bit and looked at Shane with a tiny smile of pride. "Mrs. O'Toole, my wife, has technological skills that excel most. We owe this connection today to her."
Shane acknowledged Oliver's compliment with a slight smile and short nod of her head, then turned her attention to Mr. Thomas. "Can you give us your grandfather's address?" Shane asked. "We would like to deliver this to him as soon as possible."
Mr. Thomas took a deep breath. "That would be inadvisable. My grandfather lives in a nursing facility for memory impaired individuals. He would probably not understand anything you say.
"I am his legal guardian. My father passed away some time ago. We are the only two people still living in our family. May I read the letter?
"I know my grandfather did come to the United States from England during World War II."
At this point, Oliver looked at Shane for a moment as if asking a question, and she nodded slightly. She knew what he was asking. What Mr. Thomas said did explain why the dates she had found were so wildly different. It would make total sense if indeed there were two people with the name Rolf August Granville Thomas. Then, Oliver said, "Perhaps we can come to some agreement. I will be happy to let you look at the package content and the letter we brought with us if you will allow us to see your grandfather to give him the package. After all it was addressed to him."
Oliver's tone of voice was calm and even but held a hint of a little sternness, a tone with which Shane was familiar.
She saw Mr. Thomas' sit up a little stiffly as his face took a decidedly negative expression.
Shane said, "Mr. Thomas, we understand you wish to protect your grandfather and we have no wish to create any difficulties. However, Mr. O'Toole is bound by United States Postal regulations to make every attempt to deliver mail to the person to whom the mail is addressed, whether young or old."
Oliver stood a little taller and spoke in a softer tone. "Indeed, Mr. Thomas, had this package been delivered on time your grandfather would have been a minor, and also under some sort of guardianship, a similar but reversed situation now. Believe me, if my grandfather was still alive I would want to do everything I could to see that he was happy and protected. It is always our department's goal to restore that which is lost with as much sensitivity and delicacy as required. Hence, our personal visit. I'm sure if your grandfather is able to comprehend any part of this package delivery he would be very happy to have it restored to him."
Shane looked at Oliver and was reminded again of the very deep and thoughtful side of Oliver. It was part of what made him so good at his job. And part of what made her love him so much.
Mr. Thomas looked from Shane to Oliver for another a few moments as if trying to decide what to do. Finally, he sighed. "I know everyone thinks their family situation is unique. Let me explain what I know first and maybe you'll understand my concern. I'll give you the address of the memory-care facility and perhaps we can meet there tomorrow. My grandfather has doctor appointments this afternoon so today is not a good day."
Mr. Thomas indicated the chair next to Shane and said, "May I suggest you sit down Mr. O'Toole? This will take a little while. Are you sure I can't get either of you some coffee?"
Again, the O'Tooles declined coffee and waited as Mr. Thomas refilled his cup but Oliver did avail himself of the invitation to sit. After August took a sip, he leaned back and began, "I'm going to start in the middle of the story.
"When my grandfather was a young man in his 20s after he was married, he developed memory problems. No official diagnosis was made for a long time, years in fact. The best way I can explain it is that my grandfather suffered from post-traumatic injury from the war. The doctors said the injury was primarily caused by the noise of the bombs, but the loss of family and friends, terror and confusion took their toll too. At some point he had a head injury that he didn't remember but doctors saw it on x-rays.
"It's very similar to the same illness that a famous actor was diagnosed with recently, ataxia.
"Pinpointing a time of injury was impossible but obviously seemed to have occurred either in England before he left or on the journey here. There is no one alive that I know of who has any other information.
"Grandfather lived with his sister, Margaret Susan, until he was grown. He met and married my grandmother, also a war orphan from France. My grandfather's memory problems began to worsen sometime after my father was born.
"My grandmother and my father took very good care of Grandfather as his health declined. He did become a skilled wood craftsman; and was quite a good carver until his illness gradually made that too difficult to do. At any rate, when my grandmother died Grandfather moved in with my father and mother where he lived for many years. Then he came to live with me after my parents passed away several years ago. Unfortunately, he started to go downhill more rapidly after that. Too much change, I guess.
Sometimes he is aware of his loss; sometimes he doesn't. When he in one of the increasing rare moments of alertness he can get very agitated if he realizes he has forgotten what little he still remembers. I hate to see him like that. If I can, I direct his thoughts to happier times and sometimes he doesn't realize Grandmother and Father are gone." He shrugged. August had accepted this sad turn of events.
For a minute, Shane and Oliver respectfully remained silent, then Oliver said, "Mr. Thomas, we deliver difficult correspondence regularly. We have handled many items that resulted in life-changing events. We promise we can deliver this package to your grandfather in a gentle, calm manner that, hopefully, will be a joyful experience, not a sad one."
After a minute Mr. Thomas sat forward, shrugged and said, "My grandfather will either remember who he is and what this is about or he will not. All I ask is that if he should become upset you will let me handle him in my own way."
Oliver bowed his head in acquiescence and said, "Certainly. Especially given your grandfather's age, can arrangements be made to deliver the package as soon as possible? There are other issues involving the delivery I cannot completely address with you and your grandfather until the initial contact is made.
"I am at liberty to allow you to read this letter if you are, indeed, your grandfather's guardian."
"Indeed I am," assented Mr. Thomas.
Mr. Thomas nodded and took the letter Oliver was extending. He appeared deep in thought as he read and reread the letter, then he leaned back to look at them. "This letter confirms what my grandfather told my father and I about how he came to America."
Mr. Thomas sighed and said, "Life did not turn out the way he expected." Then he smiled. "Even after the war, he remained a loyal British subject for years until my father was born. He always hoped that somehow good news would follow bad and he'd hear from someone back home in England.
"By the time my father was old enough to become interested in learning the specifics of our family history, too much time had passed by to determine much in the way of details. The fog of war and all that…"
Mr. Thomas suddenly looked up and smiled, a melancholic nostalgia banished.
"But my grandfather has had a good life here. My grandmother died when my father was in his early 30s. So, as I said, my grandfather came to live with my family when I was still at home and then with my father after my mother died. When my father died he lived with me for a short time before he moved to the nursing facility."
"May I?" He asked Oliver as he pointed to the box.
Oliver handed him the box without any further comment.
Shane said, "Be careful how you take the item out of the box. My husband was slightly injured when I opened the box."
"Oh my goodness!" Mr. Thomas said as he carefully pulled the tin toy airplane out of the box. He turned it around just like Oliver and Norman had, admiring its construction." This is a wonderful piece! I wouldn't be surprised if it isn't worth quite a bit."
Oliver said, "Our office has done some basic research and we concur. It could be quite valuable. Do you suppose that other such toys were sent that were of a similar nature as this letter seems to suggest?"
Mr. Thomas had been closely inspecting the toy plane but looked up and simply said, "Oh, yes, I know so."
After gently examining the toy plane for a few more silent moments, Mr. Thomas suddenly looked up, smiled and said, "Thank you! You have no idea how wonderful it is to get this."
Then he sat back in his chair, put the toy on his desk and picked up his coffee cup.
August pointed at the letter and said, "I'm curious to know what you have heard from our cousin, Mr. Whitfield, about my grandfather. He was, is, I should say, some years older. I'm really surprised he is still alive. My family lost touch with him a long time ago. My family actually has some unfinished business with him. A task too long neglected it seems."
August face grew hard. "My family has reason not to trust our cousin Whitfield."
Oliver and Shane looked at each other questioningly. Had they accidentally compromised the delivery by interacting with someone who should not have known about the delivery even if his was the only name mentioned?
Mr. Thomas saw their exchange and sighed. "I see I should explain.
"It might be best if I go back a bit to some of the family history before then," he said. Rolf sat up straight and picked up a pen, tapping it briefly on his desk. After a momentary pause, he leaned back again and picked up his tale. "What I know is what my great-aunt and my grandfather knew or supposed, based on what they knew about their family history, which fits the family and British war history I researched when I visited England after college."
"I can tell you that receiving this toy," Mr. Thomas pointed to the plane, "answers questions to the puzzle of a lost package from the very beginning. As you can tell by the text of the letter this appears to have been my great-grandfather's first attempt to send mail to my grandfather. We had long given up on ever receiving it. This is obviously the first of a number of similar packages Grandfather later received from his father."
Oliver and Shane exchanged a knowing look. They were both thinking "trust the timing."
"My great-grandfather, Alastair, was a minor diplomat for the British government, who could usually be found attached to some military base or the other during the war. He and Mr. Whitfield were second cousins and they did go to the same boarding school although some years apart, my great-grandfather being the elder. My father and Mr. Whitfield were not close, but as is often the case in England, one's family had contacts that transcended generations. His father and my great grandfather, Alastair, besides being first cousins, were also connected through their work.
"After school, my great-grandfather had almost no contact with the Whitfields until James Whitfield got into a bit of trouble; he had never been "a man of virtue" as my grandfather would hear his father say. Anyway, by now Mr. Whitfield's father was a bit ahead of my great-grandfather in the diplomatic service. Mr. Whitfield's father asked my great-grandfather to take his son under his wing so to speak, and hopefully, straighten him up a bit. My great aunt Margaret Susan said their father, Alastair, had a sterling reputation and Mr. Whitfield Sr. knew rubbing elbows with him might enhance his son's reputation. Of course, Aunt Margaret Susan was old enough to have met Whitfield Sr. and remembered him as a cold but polite man. Whitfield Sr. arranged for his son to work in my great-grandfather's department and so, of course, they spent time together at work and at social functions that also served as extensions of business talk, which was almost all related to that of the war.
"Unfortunately, apparently, Mr. Whitfield Sr.'s hopes were misplaced. His son soon found companions of even lesser quality of character than his own. We think my great-grandfather realized he had to find a way to put Whitfield Jr. in a place where he could not cause any actual damage. At least Aunt Margaret Susan certainly thought so.
"However, Mr. Whitfield Sr. must have been stubbornly convinced that in the right circumstances his son would flourish because he refused to hear of any other options. Within six months Whitfield Jr. was rumored to be very involved with the wife of a diplomat in the same department. My great-grandfather became alarmed and despite the possibility of incurring Mr. Whitfield Sr.'s wrath, continued to hope to find a way to get rid of him.
"It was a sad situation really. Grandfather said Whitfield Jr. was a charming jokester, and was a favorite at any social gathering, whether it was couples or families with children.
"Here is the part which we cannot verify but given what we do know we believe the story goes something like this."
"My great-grandfather realized Whitfield Jr. had gifts, despite his less than stellar reputation.
"As I said, my great-grandfather looked for ways to use Whitfield's talents that would move him out of the circles of influence where he could cause mischief.
"Now I'll switch to the world stage. As you can imagine, it was a challenge for the British government to establish a reliable method of transporting important and sensitive information to our allies overseas, particularly to the United States. Telegrams were used of course. As you can imagine, due to the war, mail service was not necessarily safe or reliable at times.
"As the war dragged on, life in London became quite dangerous and my great-grandfather was getting more than ever concerned about our family's safety there. He decided it would be best if my grandfather and his daughter emigrated to the U. S. to live with a relative who had moved to the U. S. some years before the war. Then my great-grandfather sent Grandfather packages as regularly as he could, which actually was surprisingly often, although not regular as clockwork."
Mr. Thomas stopped talking and steepled his fingers, a pensive and far away look on his face.
"My great-grandfather and my grandfather loved the outdoors."
Oliver smiled and looked at Shane. "So does my father."
Shane glanced at her husband and could see the wheels turning in Oliver's mind. He was already thinking about adding this lonely man to their coterie of acquaintances and friends they had met through their work. Coterie. Shane smiled wryly to herself. A word she probably would not have used before she met Oliver. She smiled a tender smile toward Oliver and then turned her attention back to the conversation.
"He was particularly interested in wildlife as you can tell by the letter. My grandfather received several tin animals as well as airplanes."
Oliver took this opportunity to say, "We are very sorry it has taken so long to deliver this package to you."
"I appreciate your diligence to finding my family."
Mr. Thomas smiled and leaned forward.
"So it would seem, and we think, but cannot prove, that my great-grandfather actually used Grandfather's proximity to his cousin, Whitfield, as a covert way to advance the war in what is a very small way today.
"As you may know there were a number of different covert efforts to misinform the enemy while passing real news to people in places that needed it. And, of course, the Allies were always looking for opportunities to advance their advantage. We think my great-grandfather tried to establish a less well-known route for information by mail that would move from the United Kingdom to the Canada and then the U.S. easily and unnoticed. Up until this time, there were well established bases up and down the East Coast from as far north as Canada all the way south to Florida. And then there was the Alaska International Highway that was built in Canada to Alaska. The highway allowed U.S. and Canadian forces to protect Alaska and the Northeast.
"It seems like an exercise in overthinking now, but at the time, with a new base going into operation in Minneapolis it didn't seem quite so out-of-the question that an unofficially sanctioned English presence would be here in Denver. And, after all, no one knew how long the war would last and it made sense to create as many communication avenues as possible. Mail came from overseas to one of several ports and bases already on the West Coast too.
"And, as I mentioned my great-grandfather spent a lot of time attached to an office of a military outpost near London. As part of the effort to improve communication with the U.S. he was initially part of a group that initiated the process of mailing information via microfiche on military flights. We know this because my great-aunt heard snippets of conversation now and then that seemed to point to that and grandfather's older brother, briefly mentioned in this letter, was an airplane pilot. He sent several letters that Grandfather received after he died that indicated their father was important in this effort, although some of the letters had been censored and as you may have noticed in the letter Great-Grandfather Alastair did not specifically mention a town or city. My great aunt thought her father was probably talking about White Waltham, because that is where the Air Transport Auxiliary air force base was located. So, whatever the case, my great-grandfather would have access to an avenue not everyone else had, so any activities around airplanes, airports, pilots would not seem suspicious or particularly noteworthy.
"And it is probable that my great-grandfather thought Whitfield would be a great cover since he was family. Although the risk of discovery by enemy agents in the States was small, it was not inconceivable. The Whitfield family had connections in many European countries that went back generations. The war made it difficult to know who one could trust, no matter where one lived, or who one knew.
"So Whitfield moved to Denver. Great-grandfather Alastair sent mail that included sending toys to Grandfather, and we assume, included messages of another nature entirely to be passed on to contacts in the government, or the military, as the case may be, through Whitfield.
"I will explain why we believe that in a moment.
"That would explain why my great-grandfather wanted my grandfather to take the packages, which included the toys to our cousin, whom he may have arranged to work for a small toy manufacturer as a cover. He told Grandfather his cousin would appraise them and keep a record of them in case either my grandfather or my great-aunt needed to sell anything for their support. At that time, things were so uncertain, there was no way to know if communicating and or sending support would continue to be possible. It was Great-grandfather Alastair's way of trying to protect his children as well as giving Whitfield something useful to do that might help the Allies; keeping him on the payroll and in the loop so to speak. It was a good plan, but unbeknownst to my great-grandfather, may have worked too well. More about that in a moment.
"My grandfather was too young to know what his father planned of course. Apparently, Great-grandfather had discussed his plans vaguely with my great aunt shortly before she and Grandfather left London for Denver. Grandfather was too young to understand or remember much.
"As I said, Grandfather and Great Aunt Margaret Susan came here to live with their uncle, their mother's brother. The uncle was a traveling salesman so Grandfather did not see much of him. And since Great Aunt Margaret Susan was Grandfather's legal guardian there was no reason to. Anyway, some of the letters were intended to be given to Grandfather when the war ended, or turned 18, whichever came first.
"Grandfather chanced upon them one day just before he turned 12.
"About that time, Great-Grandfather Alastair died in a bombing and Grandfather and my great aunt had not heard from their other brother, Richard, in quite some time. Wartime correspondence being what it was, they did not find out until much later he died also. My aunt tried to contact the office where my great-grandfather worked for any further information but the office personnel had been disbanded or reorganized in some way and she was unsuccessful. Eventually, she heard from a barrister with legal papers for her to sign to inherit the estate, which by now, was negligible.
"Given the oblique warnings of Great-grandfather Alastair to be careful around Mr. Whitfield, it was decided it would be best to put some space between my family and our cousin. Now, there would be no more packages from their father and the familial relationship was not strong enough to continue communication with Whitfield.
"Whitfield did call a few times after that but once he knew Great-grandfather Alastair had died he must have realized we, meaning my grandfather and great-aunt, were not going to stay in touch.
"Great Aunt Margaret Susan, who dropped her first name when she married, told Grandfather that their father had friends of all walks of life, including the aristocracy and political circles, people who would be in the position to help my great-grandfather in some of his more interesting pursuits. Great-grandfather was not rich but comfortably able to afford some of the luxuries of life, at least at the beginning of the war. It would not surprise me at all if he had connections with some very interesting people.
"Unfortunately, when I visited England, I was not able to meet many of Great-Grandfather's friends or coworkers who could shed more light on his activities. Either they really didn't know because it was wartime; people were careful with knowledge and information, or they were cautious about giving personal information to a stranger. And, of course, many were long gone. Perhaps if I had been able to stay longer I could have dug a little deeper. But that did not happen.
"Back to what happened here once Grandfather moved here. The first few times Grandfather went to see our cousin were pleasant enough. Whitfield told Grandfather to leave the toys with him so he could investigate their value with colleagues and he would return them as soon as possible. Grandfather was disappointed, of course, but his father's instructions in what was the second letter, an almost identical letter," Mr. Thomas gestured toward the first letter, "had been specific. Let our cousin see the toys first. "
Mr. Thomas shrugged. "Neither Grandfather nor his sister were entirely sure why their father put this stipulation on the gifts. Obviously, they did not know about specific military and diplomatic connections, IF there were any. Although Great-grandfather did say it was important to have the toys professionally appraised. These toys might be the only form of an inheritance Great-grandfather would ever be able to leave the family, given the uncertain future, so it was important to have a paper trail. It is true that the value of such objects varies over time. Like most collectibles, they are only worth as much as a collector will pay, so as far as we know none of the toys accrued value of any great monumental value."
"However, Mr. Whitfield never provided any paperwork. He said he was holding them in trust for Great-grandfather in an agreement they made separately. Perhaps Alastair intended to split the monetary value between his three children at some point."
Again, Mr. Thomas grew pensive and seemed to see things Shane and Oliver couldn't see. "I know my great-grandfather was trying to protect his children and take care of them as best he could, but from over 1,000 miles away in the middle of a war… giving them into the care of people who should have had their best interests at heart… is difficult at best."
Mr. Thomas' eyes came back to focus on Oliver. "One can only do so much when one must depend on others to do what you cannot do."
Oliver and Shane exchanged a look of sad understanding. "Please continue, Mr. Thomas."
Mr. Thomas took a sip of coffee and leaned back.
"The toys, which eventually included a few tin animals, as well as another few airplanes, were returned to Grandfather fairly quickly—at first."
"Eventually, Margaret Susan began dropping Grandfather off to visit and then she went to do errands." Mr. Thomas stopped speaking, shrugged his head and took another sip of coffee. "She was a student with a budget and a busy life doing more than one thing at a time to save time and money. And, she was not particularly interested in the toys themselves." Mr. Thomas suddenly grinned.
"She probably also used some of that time to do things she wouldn't want to do with her little brother around."
Suddenly the phone on the desk, one of the same kind Oliver used in the DLO, rang. Mr. Thomas answered, identified himself and listened to the party on the other end of the phone. He glanced at the wall clock, said, "Thank you. I'll be there in 20 minutes."
When he hung up the phone Mr. Thomas addressed Oliver, "I'm sorry. My grandfather's doctor appointment has been moved up. I need to leave. We can continue this discussion tomorrow when you come to see Grandfather."
Mr. Thomas scribbled an address on a note and handed it to Shane as Oliver was repackaging the tin plane.
"Thank you for coming," he said. "I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow. Will 2 o'clock be alright?" Oliver nodded in agreement.
"Perhaps if we continue this discussion in front of Grandfather it will jog his memory and he may be able to add a few details." Shaking hands with Oliver and Shane, he escorted them out the front door.
Story Five: Imperfectly Perfect
Chapters 8, 9, 10
After leaving Mr. Thomas' office, Oliver and Shane went home to change clothes and drove out to meet Norman and Rita while Norman finished up the audit at the farm. Norman had not been able to finish the audit yesterday because Bil did not get home before the auditor had to leave for the day. Oliver had been watching the farm from where he sat next to Mrs. Kellser and saw someone come out with Norman, get in a car and drive away.
Oliver was seated on the short stone bench by the side of a tombstone that read, 'Kim Kellser, beloved wife and mother.' This was immediately beside a tombstone that read Daniel Cooper, beloved Husband and Father. Seated next to Oliver was Kim Kellser. She had just explained that she had prepared as much as possible for the time she would be resting next to her husband, now long deceased.
It was quiet in this small old cemetery, populated by Kellser family members of long ago, ending for now with Mr. Kellser.
Woods rather than pasture surrounded the area, birds flew and chirped hither and yon.
Oliver had his head bent and it seemed obvious that he was praying.
After a few minutes, Oliver lifted his head, his gaze far away. "I will lift my eyes to the hills…" he murmured.
Kim finished for him, "From whence cometh my help."
"Yes, I have drawn much solace from the spot, as I hope my children will some day."
"I can see why," said Oliver as he straightened up but continued his gaze across the fields toward the barn.
Oliver had liked Kim Kellser from the first moment he met her. He and Shane had visited from time to time, sometimes on farm business with Rita's father, sometimes just for some peace and quiet or to give the dogs that Bil raised a good run. Often they would stop by the house and say hello to whoever happened to be at home. Kim did not get out much so she was most often home. She would come out to the porch and visit, talking about the farm and family history and asking questions, getting to know Oliver and Shane, Rita and Norman. Joe even came sometimes. He and Rita's dad had become good friends and spent a lot of time together building and gardening.
But it was Kim's soft laugh, her gentle teasing Oliver and Shane about being newlyweds, occasionally giving them martial advice or just life advice that made Oliver come to admire, respect and enjoy her company.
Shane had come to enjoy visiting with her a great deal too, and said she hoped to be as gracious as Kim when she was her age.
Kim was too young to be his mother but he wished his own mother had been like her. She was warm and welcoming and reminded Oliver a bit of his grandmother.
Sharon, Shane's mother, occupied a uniquely special place in Oliver's heart now, too, but she lived too far away to be easy to talk to about serious subjects just yet. Shane said her mother talked about moving to Denver some day when they had children. He looked forward to that. He had definitely missed having a mother and Sharon had rapidly come to take that place after helping him deal with his fears shortly before he and Shane married.
But now, Oliver thought Kim might be able to shed some light on life.
"May I ask you a serious question?"
Kim nodded her head and waited.
"How long did it take you to get over your husband's passing?"
Kim said, "One never truly gets over it, but it really is true that time is a healer. Little by little, life became more normal again. Children needed rearing, cows needed raising. Gradually, the smiles returned and the memories became sweeter and less painful. There was work and laughter again and family and friends to share it all with."
Kim smiled and said, "Why do you ask?"
Oliver had still not talked to Shane like he had promised his dad he would about the current fears that were occupying his mind and heart. Oliver was no longer afraid of losing Shane the way he lost his mother and first wife. Shane had promised to be with him forever and he believed her.
But he was afraid to admit to her that he was still afraid, again, and for totally different reasons. In their more private moments alone, Shane called him her "handsome hero". He knew she had said it teasingly, but now that they were married he had become aware that she really did admire him for a whole host of characteristics he was too modest to claim for himself. He rather liked being Shane's hero. It made him feel more protective of her than ever, and made him stand up a little straighter and taller. He didn't want to admit that her "hero" wasn't so heroic, and was, in fact, afraid.
No, he was afraid that somehow life would tear them apart. He was afraid to take his dad's advice to relax and live one day at a time.
Oliver did not immediately answer as Shane suddenly came into view, dogs in tow. She was so beautiful! Vibrant and exuding warmth and laughter. His heart seemed to beat faster and clench at the same time.
Shane was walking three of Bil's dogs. Shane was seriously nagging Oliver to consider getting a dog. Oliver kept finding reasons to put it off. The carpets would get dirty, etc.
Oliver smiled and got up, ready to leave his somewhat morbid thoughts behind for the time being. "I'm sorry if my curiosity recalled bad memories."
"Anytime," Kim said. "One of the blessings of life is to share the good and the bad with others."
Oliver looked at Kim and said, "I haven't always been very good at sharing."
Kim looked at him searchingly but not being willing to go into detail at the moment, Oliver said lightly, "I am an only child."
Now Oliver turned back toward Shane as she was rapidly approaching him when the dogs suddenly began barking ferociously as at the same time they turned and headed toward to lake. Oliver could see that Shane almost stumbled as the dogs pulled her in the opposite direction than they had been going. Oliver started running toward Shane as he scanned the landscape trying to see what it was that had sent the dogs on such a tear. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw some creature take a running jump into the lake as the dogs chased it. Unfortunately, there was a bit of a downhill slope in the direction they were all now running and it did not look like Shane was capable of holding the dogs back from running into the water themselves, pulling Shane with them. Oliver increased his speed as he shouted, "Shane! Shane! Let the dogs go!"
Either Shane did not or could not hear Oliver as he could see she was still holding on to the leashes as the dogs pulled her into the water behind them. By now, Oliver had closed the distance between them just as Shane stumbled again, and was now splashing about trying not to fall down.
Oliver was able to close the gap between them and put his arms around her to help her stand, at the same time telling her again, "Let the dogs go!" Oliver was terrified the dogs would suddenly decide to run the opposite direction and get their leashes tangled around Shane's legs. If that happened in the water Shane could be in serious trouble.
Shane finally dropped the leashes and they both stood still, breathing hard , trying to regain their composure. They both watched as the creature exited the lake and continued its run straight into the woods to be seen no more although the dogs were still in chase mode. Then they heard shouting and turned toward the barn where Bill, Rita and Norman had come out to see what all the ruckus was about. Bill started running toward the other side of the lake where the dogs would soon be coming out.
Their breathing slowed and Shane and Oliver faced each other for the first time. Oliver was the first to speak, "Shane, didn't you hear me? I told you to let go of the dogs! You came very close to getting hurt!"
Shane said, "Everything would have been ok if the pasture didn't slope so much! I couldn't stop momentum once the dogs started to run, but there was no way I was going to let them catch that deer!"
Oliver pulled her close, ignoring the water that was dripping from her onto him. "Shane, you could have been hurt if you had gotten tangled up in the leashes, especially in the water! I am so glad I was here!"
"Oliver, I appreciate your concern, but I would not have let that happen! I think you are being a little dramatic!"
At this point Shane broke out of his embrace to start walking out of the water. She was more upset with herself for having found herself in this predicament than she was with Oliver but she couldn't help but feel a little annoyed too. She prided herself on being able to handle dogs well, and this was certainly going to set back her argument for getting dogs. Oliver hadn't said no when she brought up the possibility, but he hadn't said yes either. She didn't need his permission of course, but she certainly didn't want to start their marriage by taking the responsibility of pet ownership he did not want.
They both headed toward the barn where Norman was still standing outside.
"Wow!" said Norman. "I didn't expect outdoor excitement when we came this afternoon. "Are you ok?" he asked as he looked from one of them to the other.
"Yes, Norman, we are fine but we need to get a bit dried off and out of the cool air," said Oliver. Oliver looked at Shane who was still somewhat out of breath from the experience.
"Rita went in to get you some blankets or towels," Norman said.
Just as they started into the barn, Rita met them at the door. "Come in out of the cold!" she scolded. "Here you go!" Rita handed them towels and said, "Shane, I keep some clothes here. Come with me and let's find you something dry.
"Oliver, there isn't anything here I think would fit you, but Norman can get the fire in the fireplace going again and you can sit by the fire while Shane changes clothes."
Shane let Rita mother her into the guest room without saying anything else to Oliver.
Shane was pulling on jeans as Rita was diving into the drawer for a top.
"Oliver is so overprotective!" Shane said. "I'm a grown woman. I was well aware of the possible dangers. Of course I knew I would have to let go of the leashes once the dogs started swimming."
Rita handed Shane a bulky cream-colored sweater. As Shane began pulling it over her head, Rita said wisely, "It's something a husband wants to do. He knows you're as smart as he is; he's got to be able to do something to show you how much he cares for you.
"I remember how protective Norman became of me. I noticed especially after my mother died. He knew he couldn't take away my problems or pain so he did the next best thing. He would make things easier for me however he could. Oliver loves you so much. Norman and I see how protective of you he is too."
"And I appreciate that; I really do, but he didn't give me a chance to discuss what happened. He just scolded me as if I was a child," Shane complained.
Rita said, "Remember that time I got my hand caught in the car door? Norman was beside himself with anxiety. He insisted we go to the minor emergency care immediately and he had to drive, and you know how he hates to do that. Then when we got home, he wouldn't me out of his sight. He sat with my hand in his and held the ice bag on my fingers for hours. Our hands got numb and I couldn't feel my fingers but he was adamant he was going to follow doctor's orders. I finally had to tell him I was about to get frostbite if he didn't let go."
Rita had picked up Shane's wet clothes and put them in a bag for her to take home. She looked at Shane and said, "Oliver is overjoyed to have you in his life; and given all you have both been through I don't need to say this but I'll say it anyway: my advice is to treat his heart gently. I'm sure he will apologize."
Rita's face broke out into a impish smile. "Besides Oliver can't stay mad at you for long. I've seen the way he looks at you. You've got him wrapped around your little finger."
Shane laughed and smiled, "Rita, Norman is really lucky, or I should say, blessed, to have you. You are wise beyond your years."
Rita tilted her head, smiled mischievously and said, "Well, I have been married almost a year longer than you have!" Shane and Rita laughed, hugged and headed out the door.
Oliver said, "Did anyone see to Mrs. Kellser? I had to leave her up the hill."
Norman said, "Yes, I called the house and one of the girls came out to get her."
"Did you see what happened?" Norman asked. Oliver sat by the fireplace while Norman busied himself getting a new log to put on the banked fire.
At first Oliver did not respond to Norman's question.
"We will have to stop by the house so I can apologize for abandoning Mrs. Kellser when I ran to help Shane."
Then Oliver addressed Norman's question.
"Shane was walking towards me when suddenly the dogs spotted the deer and jerked her around, heading straight toward it as it ran into the water. I yelled at her to drop the leashes and let the dogs go before they pulled her down or got their leashes twisted around her. She didn't let go until I caught up with her after they, and we, were all in the water."
"Ah," Norman said. "A true dog lover. She was obviously trying hard to maintain control so they wouldn't get hurt. Deer can be dangerous, especially when they are scared."
"Yes," said Oliver, "but Shane could have been hurt too."
Norman stoked the fire. He said, "Once I was on a camping trip with a bunch of cousins. My cousin, Jimmy, brought his dog. We were walking the dog from one campsite to another when the dog started to run after another dog, pulling Jimmy behind him. I saw what was happening and grabbed Jimmy but we still weren't strong enough to stop the dog. It didn't take long for our other cousins to grab hold of us. They thought we were playing Crack the Whip. It was rather dangerous because of the stumps and holes in the ground. Suddenly Jimmy's dog stopped and everyone ran into each other. Our parents weren't too happy when we walked back into camp, scratched up and dirty. I sprained my ankle. But the dog followed us back without any trouble, just happy to be with us."
Norman stood up, dusted off his hands and sat down next to Oliver.
As usual when Norman told one of his cousins stories, there was always a point. Oliver got it. He had overreacted. His shoulders relaxed and he smiled the small smile that came to his face.
He anxiously looked toward to room where Shane was changing. He and Shane had not had a major argument since they got married. Little tiffs about this or that, which were always resolved with a laugh and a kiss, had happened, of course. But neither one of them had been truly upset. This time he sensed that Shane really was annoyed, but if he had to live it over he would still have followed her, but he would not have addressed her so sharply.
It appeared that the issue that had been bothering him would have to be addressed sooner rather than later.
Just then Shane and Rita came out of the bedroom. Oliver stood up and walked towards her as she walked toward him. He smiled and pulled her into his arms. "Come sit by the fire for a few minutes before we go."
Oliver kept his eyes on Shane but addressed Norman, "Tell Shane the story you just told me, Norman."
Norman repeated the story, then added, "Since I sprained my ankle I couldn't play with my cousins the rest of the weekend, but the stray cat the dog had been chasing showed up and we discovered it had a litter of kittens nearby. I got to play with them and we took one of the kittens home. I named him Cowboy."
Rita exclaimed, "I didn't know you ever had a cat, Norman!"
"Well, I didn't have him very long. I was moved to another foster home and we found out my foster father was allergic to cats. He didn't know that either until he started sneezing when Cowboy was around. My foster father had baked some brocholli, rice and cheese and was going to carry it to the table. Just as he turned the cat leaned up next to him the way cats do. That startled him, then he sneezed and dropped the dish.
It took us a long time to catch the cat and an even longer time to get the rice and cheese off of the cat."
"Oh, that's too bad, Norman!" Rita said.
"Well, my foster father felt bad about it but Cowboy had taken such a liking to my foster father that he was constantly jumping on him. My foster dad lived with it for as long as he could until Cowboy jumped on him while he was holding a can of paint that was open."
"Oh my, Norman!" Shane said. "That doesn't sound good."
"Well, my cousin was purple for awhile, but he thought it was funny to have purple hair. We gave Cowboy to one of my other cousins and we got a dog that I named Rocky. Rocky was my best friend for a long time."
Oliver was looking at Shane while Norman told his story again, taking in her beautiful profile, as if memorizing it, brushing her hair away from her face. By now, he felt this story had run its course, and having circled back around to dogs which still a sensitive subject, decided it was time to go.
He smiled and said, "I'm going to take Shane home now so she can shower before dinner. We'll see you both tomorrow morning. Thank you for your help today."
Rita had been watching Shane and caught the tender look Oliver was directing at Shane. She said, "Ok. We're going to stay and have dinner with my dad. He should be back in from the barn soon. I brought cheese enchiladas and a chocolate cake."
Shane and Oliver looked at each other and then at Norman, whose face told them all they needed to know. Shane hugged Rita one more time and then Oliver took her hand and walked her to the car. "I need to stop and speak to Mrs. Kellser. I won't be but a minute. Is that ok with you, Shane?"
"Of course, Oliver. Just leave the heater on. My hair is still wet."
The drive was short and both Shane and Oliver sat silently.
Oliver knocked on the door to the house and the youngest Kellser girl answered. She opened the door to let Oliver come in.
He saw Mrs. Kellser immediately as she was seated in the living room.
"Mrs. Kellser, I apologize for leaving you so abruptly this afternoon. As you could probably see, Shane needed my help."
"Is Shane ok?" Mrs. Kellser asked.
"Oh yes, she's fine, just got a little wet. We are on our way home now.
I do apologize for leaving you. Norman told me Peggy came for you."
"I can still walk by myself but my family feels better if I don't, so I humor them." Her eyes twinkled.
Seeing the look in Mrs. Kellser's eyes, Oliver had a feeling she was thinking of something quite different.
"Yes, I can understand why. I'm not sure Shane understands why I was so upset by the time I reached her." Oliver was surprised as these words left his lips, but waited to see what Mrs. Kellser would say.
She laughed her gentle laugh and said, "Well, we women are stronger than we look.
When my husband and I were newlyweds he didn't quite believe I was capable of doing all the work it takes to run the farm. Took him a little while to realize he was wrong. Of course, there were some things I couldn't do as fast as he did, but I was pretty experienced. After all, I did grow up here.
"I don't know your wife well, but I sense she is a particularly strong-willed woman and that's probably one reason you are attracted to her. Am I right?" She smiled.
"Yes, Shane is a strong woman and you are right; that strength is one of her characteristics I love and cherish."
As Oliver answered Mrs. Kellser, he realized it was so very true. Of course, he had known and appreciated Shane's ability to take care of herself for a long time, her strength of will and mind and heart, but it was good to be reminded, especially after what just happened.
"Mrs. Kellser, may I hug you?" Oliver asked.
She laughed again. "Of course. And do come again soon!"
After hugging Mrs. Kellser, Oliver took his leave, smiling.
He got into the car, still smiling, more relaxed than he had been all day.
He looked at Shane, who had her eyes closed but opened them sleepily when he got in. "Take a nap, my love, until we get home."
Shane sleepily agreed and snuggled down in her seat, reaching out her hand to hold his hand a moment.
He put the car in drive and directed his gaze to the road. Suddenly, life seemed more precious and carefree than it had in quite awhile.
Chapter 9
Norman was very quiet on the drive home from farm after dinner. Rita looked at him and said, "Norman, is everything ok? You're awfully quiet. Is everything ok with the farm?"
"I think everything is going well. We signed paperwork to take Kim off the farm paperwork. It was more or less of a formality anyway, since the family doesn't really own the place anymore.
"Of course, now the paperwork will go to Oliver's attorney to file.
"Oliver's lawyer is so busy handling legal work for The McInerney Retirement Home for Postal Employees, the farm and other ventures she is going to retire rich herself someday."
Norman was twisting his fingers of one hand to another, a sign that he was concerned about something. Rita noticed and asked, "Norman, you seem a little tense. Are you sure everything is ok? Are you hungry? You didn't eat too much at dinner."
Norman looked at Rita, then went back to gazing outside the car as they drove. He took this opportunity to say casually, "You know I could use a hamburger. How about stopping at a drive through on the way home?"
Rita smiled. "That would be nice. I could use something to drink for the drive home too."
Rita glanced at Norman who was still twisting his hands. She asked,
"Are you sure there isn't something else bothering you?"
Norman took his courage in both hands and said, "I'm concerned about something."
"About what?" Rita was always one to talk openly. If something was bothering Norman she wanted to know what it was. Sometimes it took a little time to get Norman to open up.
"Well, so far I have been able to handle the financial aspects of the O'Toole Foundation without any problem, but talking to the auditor made me think that maybe I'm not really the best qualified for the job."
"If Oliver is happy with what you're doing, isn't that the only thing that matters?" Rita asked.
"Well, yes, but I don't want Oliver to feel like he has to let me do continue to handle the financial matters of the foundation if he'd rather have someone more knowledgable, more experienced in this kind of work. Oliver and I have already talked about how complex the financial aspects of his inheritance are. He doesn't have any more experience than I do."
Rita asked, "What would make you feel better about handling the money?"
Norman took a deep breath. "I've been thinking that maybe I should go back to school."
"Norman! That's a great idea!" exclaimed Rita.
"But would I still be able to do my job at the post office? I love my job. It's always changing and challenging. And I have the best people in the world to work with." Norman smiled sweetly at Rita.
Rita smiled back and said, "You could always go to school at night or take classes online. A lot of people do that now. I bet your grandmother would be happy to help you with the tuition."
Norman's face lit up. "Do you really think going back to school is a good idea? After all, I would have less time to spend with you, Charley and Eleanor. You would have to do more work around the house while I study. And Eleanor is getting to the age when you have to watch her every minute."
"It would only be for a short time, Norman. This could be good for your career and our future. Tell Oliver."
Norman reached for Rita's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Thank you, Rita. I can always count on you!"
"I always thought if I went back to college I would like to study chemistry to help me in my work for the DLO, but if I want to continue working for the Foundation, I think it would be better to get training in accounting and advanced mathematics. It is true that chemistry does require a fairly good understanding of mathematics, although not the same kind. But perhaps I could do a double major. That would take more time, of course.
"Maybe Oliver would like to take chemistry classes with me too. I remember he said he was had an interest in chemistry when he was a little boy."
Rita envisioned more explosions in the DLO, but always positive, said, "Sure, you could have fun together!"
Chapter 10
The drive home was silent. Shane was sleepy and still tired from her run with the dogs so she kept her eyes closed and dozed. Oliver turned the radio on low to soft jazz. He knew that was Shane's preference.
He wasn't sure how to apologize but he knew he needed to do it soon. He instinctively knew Shane wasn't angry with him anymore but that didn't excuse his somewhat angry outburst this afternoon.
He just loved her so very, very much. She was so precious to him, which he told her often, but somehow his words never seemed enough to express how deeply he felt. He was so dazzled by her beauty, her smile, her laugh. He was often without words when he looked at her and thought to himself, 'she's mine!' Even when she was giving him grief for something or the other at work, he watched her in fascination for the passion and light she brought to the DLO and his life.
Oliver drove in the driveway behind the house, cut the engine and shook Shane's shoulder gently. "We're home, Shane."
Shane opened her eyes sleepily, smiled up at him and said, "What did you say, Oliver? I didn't realize I had fallen asleep."
Seeing Shane's sleepy, beautiful face, Oliver's heart turned over. "Stay where you are. I'll come open the door."
It had been raining for quite some time on the way home, but now the rain had stopped to a very light rain. The driveway was quite wet, puddles here and there. Oliver walked around the front of the car, opened Shane's door and helped her out of the car. Suddenly, without warning, he picked her up and started toward the backdoor.
Shane came fully awake. She laughed. "Oliver! You are such a romantic!"
Oliver smiled, "You make it easy to be romantic."
Shane didn't say anything else. She just gazed at Oliver's face and put her hand in the back of his hair.
By now they got to the back door fence. Oliver set Shane down, opened the gate and them pushed the door lock. One of the things Shane had coaxed Oliver to do when she moved into his house after their wedding was install an electronic door opener. He was not thrilled with the idea but when she explained that it was a safety feature that would allow them to get into and out of the house more easily, especially when carrying packages, he acquiesced.
Oliver let Shane go in the house first, passing the utility room into the kitchen. Shane switched on the kitchen light but was suddenly startled by Oliver twirling her to face him and sweeping her into his arms for a deeply possessive kiss. Her senses swam as she kissed him back.
When Oliver lifted his lips from hers, he cradled her in his arms and whispered, "I'm sorry!"
"Oh, Oliver!" Shane's eyes watered as she tried to prevent tears from spilling over.
"My behavior this afternoon was unwarranted, but I have to admit I was momentarily terrified of anything happening to you."
"I'm here today, Oliver. You're here, Oliver. We are together now… "
She reached up to kiss him again, and they both held tightly to each other for a long time.
When they stopped kissing, Oliver took Shane's hand and led her to the couch. They sat together, Shane in Oliver's arms.
"When my dad and I were lost in the mountains, we had time to talk. Or rather, my dad had time to talk to me. He told me what happened just before my mother left the first time.
"Apparently, I was very keen on camping and the outdoors when I was young." A ghost of a smile was on his lips, "I haven't always lived in a suit and tie."
Shane smiled as several recent memories of Oliver sans suit and tie came to mind.
"Anyway, my parents took me to that very same park. Dad said I loved it. He said I loved everything about it. I'm afraid I don't remember much about that time, probably because much of it was painful."
Shane reached up to caress Oliver's face in empathy and waited.
"Dad said I would run out ahead of him and my mother because 'I wanted to protect them from the bears.' Dad said I was always wanting to protect them from the bears."
Overcome with emotion, Oliver's eyes and face had stilled the way it did when he was trying to contain his emotions.
"What Dad said had a great deal to do with what I told you when I found you in the chapel after we were rescued.
Over time, I think the need to protect you from the bears, or in this case, dogs," Oliver smiled, "has been on my mind a great deal for a long time."
Oliver sighed deeply and tilted his head back. "There have been nights I suddenly wake up and reach for you, just to make sure you are there. And if perchance, you have gotten up to get a drink of water or some other reason and you are not there, I panic and my heart beats so fast I can barely think."
Now Shane was holding Oliver's hands and squeezed them gently, empathetically.
Then Oliver bent to kiss her lightly on the lips. And whispered lightly, "But I think you're stuck with me." Oliver smiled and continued in a serious tone.
"I love you so very much, my darling Shane. I want to protect you from anything that could hurt you, including me. I'm sorry I hurt your feelings this afternoon."
Before Shane could speak, Oliver pressed his fingers to her lips. "Sushh."
Then gently, "We can talk more later."
"Now you need to get in the shower and get changed into some pjs while I go get us some eggs and toast for supper. We can talk later."
They both rose from the couch. Shane gave Oliver a quick kiss on the check, smiled and said, "Thank you, Oliver. I'm starving after my little swim." Then she headed toward the bedroom.
Shane took a quick shower, then put on some velvet midnight blue pajamas Oliver bought her when they were in Rome on their honeymoon. She smiled as the memory came to mind. While walking they had stumbled on a boutique/fashion house where a laughing Shane dragged an obviously reluctant Oliver inside. He had been very uncomfortable but patient while she enjoyed looking at the Italian fashions. Suddenly she realized Oliver wasn't standing behind her as he had been ever since they walked inside; he had wandered over to a table where a mannequin was placed, wearing a beautifully rich deep blue two-piece pajama set. She watched as his hand seemed to reach out of its own volition to touch the velvet. He must have known she was looking at him because he suddenly looked at her, and seeing her gaze seemed a bit sheepish. She had immediately crossed the room to him and softly asked if he would like her to try them on. He smiled that beatific smile of his and her heart turned over. That is how this pair of lovely lounging pajamas came to be in her wardrobe.
While drying her hair, her thoughts went back to what Oliver said. She really did like the feeling of being cherished the way Oliver took care of her, even more so now that they were married. His thoughtful and sometimes chivalrousness toward her was one of Oliver's characteristics that had first attracted her to him. He held doors for her, held out his arm for her whenever a steady step was needed; brought her coffee. She smiled as the fleeting image of Oliver standing in front of his car with two cups of coffee in front of Charley's house came to mind. It was wonderful to feel so cherished; Rita was right: Oliver treated her adoringly. But just because they were married now didn't mean she couldn't make decisions on her own. Shane was sensible enough to know Oliver was stronger and could more easily handle doing things that required greater physical strength than she, like maybe the dogs, she thought grudgingly, but her mind and heart and soul were every bit as strong as Oliver's.
She was reminded of what Oliver's minister said in premarital counseling: Two become one. He explained that didn't mean either of them had the right to override the other's thoughts and feelings but that they must be considerate and understanding of each other's differences and come to agreement of the important issues of life if at all possible.
She and Oliver were never going to see everything the same way; they were too different for that. But Shane was optimistic they would find their own path through life together. They had already come through so much before they even said I will.
Shane put her hair in a low braid and went to find her husband.
Oliver was just putting the plates of omelets on the table. Steaming cups of coffee were already at each place setting as well as mini cinnamon rolls.
Oliver saw her go for the cinnamon roll first. He grinned his mischievous smile and said, "I thought a little sweetness might be more to your taste than a piece of plain toast."
He pulled out the chair for her to sit and then sat next to her. He took her hand and, as their custom, they bowed their heads for a short prayer of thanks.
They were both hungry so they ate mostly in silence. When they finished, Oliver went to take a quick shower. Shane cleared the table, got some things out for breakfast and work tomorrow. She reminded herself it was time to order Yoo Hoo for the DLO. She had just refreshed their coffee when Oliver joined her, wearing flannel pj pants and a tshirt. Shane drew in her breath as she admired the way he filled out the simple clothes.
Shane loved the way Oliver looked when put together from head to toe in work and dress attire, but she never got tired of seeing him casually dressed either.
Then they headed to their favorite place to sit together, the living room couch. Oliver had already lit a fire in the fireplace while Shane had been in the shower. Shane curled up closely to Oliver when his left arm went around her and he took her right hand in his. For a moment neither spoke, but just enjoyed relaxing at the end of a long, trying day. Oliver played with her wedding ring.
Oliver broke the silence.
"What I said earlier is true, Shane. I am sorry if I hurt your feelings with my words today at the farm. But, I don't think I can ever stop trying to take care of you, nor do I want to do so… Actually, I would say I have been obsessing about that a little bit for awhile now, maybe a little too much. I have this feeling that everything is so perfect between us that something is sure to happen to …make it less perfect."
Oliver couldn't bear to say what had been worrying him: 'if something happened to one of us.'
"Life is just too perfect." As he spoke, Shane could hear a hint of pain under his words.
He saw the look of concern on her face and knew what she was thinking. He shook his head. "No, Shane, I'm not afraid you're going to leave me. You have certainly convinced me otherwise."
Oliver turned to face her, his left hand going to the base of her neck, his fingers in her hair, now threatening to undo her loose braid; his right hand reaching out to hold her hand in his.
"Then can you tell me more?" Shane whispered.
Oliver took a deep breath, breathing in Shane's scent, then exhaled.
"I love you so very much, my darling Shane. I want to protect you from anything that could hurt you, including me. For the first time in my life, I have someone who truly loves me and whom I truly love."
Oliver held Shane's hand on his heart the way he often did when they danced.
His voice dropped to that whisper Shane particularly loved as he said, "I am so very, very happy with you." Oliver lifted Shane's right hand to his lips. "I'm truly sorry I hurt your feelings this afternoon. The situation felt like a nightmare come true.
"Sometime ago, a worrying thought found its way into my brain; a thought that something might happen to you… to me… and I started to obsess about it. I don't remember what it was that prompted me to think that. But once it landed, it started to take up space in my imagination."
Oliver's fingers twisted in Shane's braid, slowly undoing it and twisting her hair around his fingers, "I should have told you what I was feeling sooner. I know I am not always as communicative as you'd like me to be. I'm afraid old habits die hard."
Suddenly, it dawned on Shane that Oliver might not realize that he was still feeling the trauma from his life before her. She drew in a breath, and said quietly, lowly, "So, you couldn't stop your mother or your wife from leaving you, but you think you have more control over what happens to you now?"
Oliver looked slightly shocked as what Shane said sunk into his mind.
He suddenly reached for Shane and pulled her into his arms holding her tight. Shane could feel the sobs growing in his body as tears began to form. For a moment, Shane just held Oliver as tightly as she could, saying what he usually said to her, "Shshhh, Oliver, it's ok." Oliver sobbed quietly even more, and Shane could not hold back her own emotions of empathy and she, too, began to cry. She and Oliver had shed tears a few times during more intimate moments when the beauty of the moment overwhelmed them but Shane knew Oliver was not one to cry openly or often. He was obviously deeply moved in a way that tears seemed the only appropriate response. For a few minutes they just sat holding each other as the tears flowed and emotions crested until Oliver gently loosened his hold on Shane. He put his left hand up to brush her hair away from her face, the braid now long disheveled, and brushed the tears from her face before he cupped her chin with his right hand.
"Oh, Shane, I am so, so sorry! I know you're not going to leave me! And I'm certainly never going to leave you… voluntarily." Oliver's eyes were tearing up again as he realized what he had been doing.
"I seem to keep dragging the unpleasantness of the past into the present again!"
Oliver smiled his apology sweetly then suddenly pulled Shane towards him again, this time to kiss her sweetly, deeply, slowly. Shane felt nothing but Oliver's sweet passionate presence in the moment. The kiss held promise and peace.
When Oliver stopped kissing Shane, her breath was shaky. Her hands rested on his chest. "Oliver… you are right. Life is perfect… now. But no one's life stays that way forever.
"Oliver, do you remember what Owen's mother said to us when we met her at the fire station?" She said, "'Being afraid of to lose someone someday steals the joy of having them today.'"
"And, do you remember the day we got stuck in the vault and how scared I was? I asked you to pray for me and you said you already had. Well, I'm going to pray for you; this time I'm going to pray that God takes away your fear.
"I'm pretty sure you've read some things about that in the Bible, haven't you?
"And what about what you have always told me and Rita and Norman?"
Oliver answered, "Trust the timing?"
"Yes," Shane whispered. "Trust the timing."
Shane caressed Oliver's face, willing his cares to disappear. "God has been good to us. Let's enjoy the time we have while we have it. God brought us together at a time in our lives when we needed each other even though we didn't realize it and look how well that turned out.
"I love you so very, very much, Oliver," Shane whispered tenderly.
Shane realized now was not the time to talk in detail about what had happened at the lake today, if it ever was. There would be time to show Oliver that she more than capable of doing whatever needs must. She knew he already knew that anyway. Right now, she just wanted to soothe his heart. She caressed his check as he regained his composure.
Oliver murmured, "Your mother said I needed to heal."
Smiling, a sparkle coming into her eyes, Shane said, "She was right! And I'm going to help you! I'm sure we have lots of great adventures waiting for us."
Shane stood, her hand still in Oliver's. Her voice changed to a sultry low tone.
"Like right now," she said. "I didn't put these pajamas on just so you could admire them."
She pulled his hand and he stood up. They stood looking at each other, Shane eyes' challenging and sparkling, Oliver inscrutable for a moment, then his mischievous grin spreading across his face.
For the second time today, Oliver bent and suddenly picked Shane up in his arms. This time Shane laughed.
"Again, Oliver?"
Oliver's eyes and voice deepened with passion. "Again, Shane."
Continued Tomorrow...