Author's Note: A few lines in this part were borrowed from the Roswell Season One episode Sexual Healing and the Roswell Season Three episode A Tale of Two Parties.
Part 57
Kyle was slouched down on the loveseat; his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles below the coffee table. The six of them had separated after cleaning up over at Mr. Tony's and they had gone to their own cabins to have a bite to eat before meeting up again. Isabel had insisted on making dinner and he had been happy to kick back while she did. She had made hamburger steak with mashed potatoes and gravy, corn on the cob, dinner rolls, and a salad. She must've asked Julia or someone to pick the stuff up at some point because he knew they hadn't had any of that in the kitchen before they set out that morning.
He pointed the remote at the television and switched to the next station, shifting to one side when Isabel leaned in to inch the table over and blocked his view of the screen. He shifted the other way when she switched sides and when she was finally satisfied that it was in the correct position she moved on. He watched her as she moved around the room, rearranging the smaller pieces of furniture.
Since the moment she had discovered that her talents could be used for the Christmas on the Lake production she had been able to keep herself occupied. But now that it was over she was left with too much time on her hands and she was looking for something to keep her busy. He flipped to the next station and sighed when he ran into the weather station yet again. He watched as the reporter rattled off the forecast for the following day, glancing at Isabel when she muttered something under her breath.
They would be leaving in the morning, slipping out before dawn if El Capitan had anything to say about it. He hadn't missed Michael's interaction with Maggie at the end of the evening and he knew without asking he had said goodbye in his own indomitable way. He wondered if the little girl had somehow, unknowingly, sensed it. He had seen the way she had hugged him, seen the hybrid hug her back just as tightly after saying their goodbyes to the reindeer.
"And it looks like we'll be seeing another five to eight inches of snow by morning," the weather reporter droned on. He turned and made a circling motion over the map. "If conditions are right we may just be seeing an additional five to eight inches of snow in the afternoon." Great, just when they were supposed to be on the road. Not the kind of news that would make a certain cranky hybrid happy.
Who made these forecasts up? How much knowledge was necessary to tell people what the weather was like at that moment or the day before? Hell, he could do that. If you wanted to know what the weather was like at the moment, walk outside! They got the forecast wrong at least half of the time if not more. Most of the time the forecast was preceded by the words, "we could", "we may", or "there's a chance of…" It was ridiculous. What was the point of watching the weather report?
He shook his head at the television and then shifted to glance at the door when the knock he had been waiting for finally came. He shut the TV off and leaned forward to place the remote on the coffee table, glancing around as he got up and realizing that Isabel had retreated to her room. "Hey, they're here," he called as he walked to the door.
"Be out in a minute," she yelled back.
He pulled the door open wide and stepped to the side as Michael and Maria hurried inside. "Hey, how's it…" he watched as Michael took off like a shot, heading for the kitchen, "going?"
Michael moved around the tiny kitchen, lifting the lids off of pots and pans as he inspected what little remained from dinner. His eyebrows lifted in interest when he spotted several tempting morsels in the frying pan and he scrounged up a fork to scarf up the last few bites of hamburger steak.
"I would say you'll have to excuse him," Maria said as she rolled her eyes at his behavior, "but really, there's no excuse."
Kyle shrugged as he followed the hybrid around, kicking bits of snow that had fallen off of Michael's boots back towards the door.
By the time Isabel came into the room, Max and Liz had arrived and they were shedding their outerwear, and Michael had discovered the gravy. "So, we gotta talk about what happens when you take off with someone else on these little disappearing acts," he mumbled around a bite of gravy-drenched meat. "Maria came back sick as a dog and you looked like crap." He was tossing the fork in the sink when he spotted a half-eaten roll on one of the plates waiting to be scraped and washed. "Oooh, yeah." He snatched it up and dragged it through the gravy before shoving the whole thing in his mouth.
"God, Michael, that's gross," Isabel muttered. "Didn't you eat before coming over?"
"Yeah, we had see food," Maria spoke up.
"No point lettin' leftovers go bad," he mumbled as he searched for the bread and undid the tie to pull out a slice. "Like this? See?" He held up what had to be a new loaf of bread as he twisted the tie back into place. "Clear out the leftovers before we leave in the mornin'."
"Yeah," Maria said dryly, "and that fried spam sandwich really hit the spot. I can't imagine how it could've been any better."
Michael frowned as he soaked up the gravy with the bread and took a big bite. Why'd their leftover food look better than theirs? Well, besides the fact that they hadn't had any leftovers when they'd finished dinner. He knew Isabel was a finicky eater and she didn't care for leftovers but she'd learned to deal with them the past few months. "Anyway, like I was sayin' about the last time you guys took a trip down the yellow brick road…"
"We were fine."
He leveled a look at his girlfriend's obviously incorrect statement. "You were not fine." He shook his head and wiped his hands on his pants as he took a couple of steps toward Maria.
"I was fine," she insisted.
"Oh, so that wasn't you that high-tailed it to the john to blow chow?"
She made a face at his less than eloquent question. "No, that's not what I meant, Michael. We were fine when we got to the Sheriff's house. I was nauseous, but it wasn't any worse than if I'd been on a rollercoaster after a big lunch. And Kyle was fine."
"Michael, it only makes sense there would be some disorientation with something like this," Liz said, hoping to break the tension in the room. "It's not just a projection thing; they were physically transported what, like 1,600 miles in a split second. Even Kyle experienced the nausea that first time."
Kyle nodded when all eyes turned to him. "Yeah, I just didn't pay tribute to the porcelain god afterwards." He shrugged when Maria glared at him. "What? I have a lot more experience controlling that reflex."
"Yeah," Liz muttered to Max when she felt him move to stand next to her, "he didn't have that kind of control freshman year."
"Yeah, that whole barfing after a beer blast thing?" He chuckled and shook his head. "I can't imagine how the magic slipped away."
She rolled her eyes at him and shoved her elbow in his ribs for effect.
"Michael, if you're done licking the plates clean maybe we can get this show on the road," he suggested.
"Yeah." He dropped the lid on the now empty gravy pan and started snooping around again.
"Was there something else you needed, Michael?" Isabel asked when he reached for the refrigerator door.
"You guys have dessert?"
"Really? No, we didn't have dessert. But as I recall Maria said you're rather fond of pop tarts, so have one of those."
"You got the cookies an' cream ones?"
Her back teeth ground together. "No."
He shrugged and moved back into the living area. "Alright, let's get this thing rollin'."
Max scratched the back of his head as he looked at Kyle. "So, um, how does this work exactly?"
"Well…" Kyle's eyebrows were mobile as he shifted from one foot to the other and smiled uncomfortably. "We, y'know, have to be in contact, and then I focus on my dad."
"Okay, so you two need to hold hands," Michael said and motioned for them to move closer together. "Let's go, c'mon." He shook his head at their hesitant movements. "You're gonna have to get over yourselves and man up here."
"Maybe you could skip the pep talk, Michael, 'cause it's really not helping," Max growled. He looked at Kyle's hand for a moment before lifting his gaze to meet his eyes. "Look, I know things haven't been easy between us lately, but I just wanted you to know…"
Kyle's hand shot up to stop the flow of words. "We're about to hold hands, El Presidente, so I think we can skip the chick talk. The needle in the creep meter's spiking dangerously close to nightmare territory." He forced a smile. "I got it though, thanks."
"I don't like this," Michael said suddenly.
"Yeah, we're not that happy about it either, El Capitan."
"Not the holdin' hands thing." He shook his head as he went over the last time they had done this… unintentionally. "The sheriff said the surveillance on them's calmed down." He looked at Max. "Why would the Special Unit just back off like that?"
Kyle rolled his shoulders as he considered the question. "Maybe it put a drain on their resources following them around 24/7."
"What if it's more a matter of giving them a false sense of security?" Liz asked.
Michael glanced at Maria and saw the tension draw her features tight as she came to the same conclusion he and everyone else in the room had come to.
"You're saying our parents could be taken at any time," Isabel spoke up. "They'd use them to get to us, to force us out of hiding." She looked at her brother. "Max?" Her eyes locked on him, seeking reassurance and finding it in his response.
"It's gonna be okay, Iz." His chin dropped as he looked up into her eyes. "There's a plan in place, remember? They're planning to leave when the time's right and as of the last time Kyle and Maria saw his dad they're all safe."
Maria reached for Michael, slipping her arm around his waist as she looked up at him. "So, Max and Kyle go and meet the sheriff to get the details. We'll know more after the meeting."
"No." He shook his head as his arm tightened around her shoulders. "No one goes with Valenti. We can't be separated. If we're wrong the price is too high and one of us could be taken as well. We can't risk putting the entire group at risk."
Kyle sighed and started to pace, aware of Michael's gaze following his every move. The longer they waited to get this thing underway the more it was wearing on his nerves.
"All I'm sayin' is if Kyle were to get caught he could make it back. He has the best chance of getting away if he's spotted."
"And what if they drug him the way they did Max?" Isabel demanded. "Then what? We can't just send him in without backup."
Kyle's steps slowed as he neared Isabel and he held his hands up. "Let's all just stop this right now. Nobody's gonna drug anybody. Let's just make this easier on all of us, okay? I'll go back alone, get my dad, and bring him back here." He looked around the room, meeting their uncertain eyes. "I'm the only one who can get to my dad. Michael's right, we shouldn't be separated tonight. If something goes wrong we have a better chance of helping them if we're all together. So… I have this… this power that I didn't ask for, but if I can use it to save my dad or anyone else I'm gonna use it."
A small knowing smile appeared on Max's face and he reached up to rub his jaw as he addressed Kyle. "Make sure you're not seen and if you feel like you're at risk at any time…"
He nodded. "Got it." He turned to look at Isabel and reached over to squeeze her hand. "Don't worry, I'll be back in no time."
Max cleared his throat to get their attention. "Kyle, maybe you should bring him back to our cabin," he suggested. "It's warmer there."
Kyle snorted and shook his head. "Don't worry, I'll tell him to bring a coat. We're already here so there's no reason to haul ass back over to your place. I'll be back before you'd even be geared up and I think right here works fine." He grinned and took a step back. He gave Isabel one last look and a teasing wink. "Leave a light on, Sugar Muffin."
Michael pulled Maria up against him and turned to look at Kyle just as he disappeared from sight.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Jim parked in the driveway and grabbed his thermos before opening the door and ducking his head against the wind. He leaned in for his hat, putting it on and pushing it down. He shoved the door closed and looked around. As had become habit, he did a perimeter check of the house and made sure nothing was out of place before pulling his keys off of his belt and unlocking the front door.
He used the toe of his boot to close it again before turning to drop the small panel at the bottom of the alarm that was steadily beeping. Silence fell over the house again as soon as the security code had been entered and he shook his head. In all of his years he'd never once felt the need for his doors to be locked or to have every potential entrance or exit wired to alert him to an intruders presence. And truth be told, it probably wouldn't make a difference if the Special Unit paid him a visit – they had ways around these things. He sighed and wished he'd thought twice about stopping at the Crashdown and grabbing a bite to eat. But it wasn't the same. He cursed under his breath and crossed the room, fumbling around to turn on the Christmas tree. He stared at it for a moment before turning it off again. Nothing was the same anymore.
He shook his head and turned to go into the kitchen, navigating the rooms in the dark and wondering if he had anything in the refrigerator to make a sandwich with. He set the thermos on the counter, ignoring the clatter when he knocked over the empty coffee mug he'd left there that morning and opening the refrigerator to peruse its contents. There were a few bottles of beer, a bottle of ketchup, and numerous takeout boxes shoved on the shelves. Not much different than when he'd been on his own at 21. Ungh, 25 years and change and here he was basically in the same spot.
Well, that was a depressing thought. He pushed the door closed and left the kitchen. Maybe he'd feel better after a hot shower. Once again navigating in the dark he moved through the hall that led to his bedroom, not expecting it when he ran into something that felt suspiciously like a body. He reacted instinctively, reaching for his service weapon as he grabbed the person and spun them around, shoving them up against the wall.
The sounds of something falling, glass shattering, and his thumb releasing the safety barely registered as he pressed the gun to the base of the intruder's neck.
"Dad, Dad, it's me!"
Jim's heart was racing as he quickly lowered his weapon to his side and he stretched his arm out, feeling along the wall until he found the light switch. They blinked owlishly against the light that flooded the hallway and his features relaxed when he saw his son standing before him. "Jeez Louise, Kyle."
"So much for checking your gun at the front door, huh?" He released a shuddering breath when he heard the quiet sound of the safety being reset on the gun his dad held.
"The Special Unit doesn't stop to ask questions. You're here for the meeting?" He looked around. "Where's Max?"
"Change of plans. We decided it'd be safer if you came to us." He held his hand out. "Don't let go of me no matter what. I have no idea what happens if you let go."
"Hold on, Kyle, there's somethin' I need to take with us."
He nodded. "I'll wait here."
Jim hurried back the way he had come but paused at the end of the hall to turn and look at his son. "Don't… Just don't go anywhere."
"I won't. Hey, Dad? Maria's mom, she's been hanging around a lot?"
"Yeah, it helps to be with someone who understands what the other person's goin' through." He took his hat off and scratched his head. "We haven't talked about it or anything so I don't know that it's goin' anywhere – "
"No, no, no, Dad! Really, you don't have to share. I was just wondering if she's brought over anything homemade she makes?" He shrugged. "Just be nice to have a piece of home to take back to the others."
A wide grin lit up Jim's face and he retraced his steps to pull his son into a bear hug. He hadn't been thinking about anything that fell in the dessert category when he had been searching for food a few minutes earlier. "Yeah, yeah, I've got somethin' in the fridge. I'll grab it and the other thing and be right back."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Time felt like it had ground to a near stop as Maria's gaze kept up a constant back and forth between the clock and Michael. He was doing his best to wear a trench in the floor, his eyes constantly straying back to the spot Kyle had disappeared from. If five minutes was this agonizing she could only imagine what seventeen and a half minutes had been like for the others. She watched Michael take another turn. It must've been even worse for him.
"How long does it take to get the sheriff and come back?" Isabel muttered as she began to pace, her path and Michael's crossing but amazingly enough never conflicting.
"I'm guessing the two of them have done this before," Liz said as she watched them.
Max snorted softly. "Yeah."
"It shouldn't be takin' this long," Michael growled. "It's a simple in an' out mission."
"Unless the sheriff wasn't home," Liz pointed out. "We're two hours ahead of them up here. He could've been at work, out for dinner, or… you know, out doing something else."
Michael and Isabel reached their respective corners and turned to make another pass but before they had taken more than a few steps Kyle and Jim appeared in the center of the room.
Kyle heard the sharp call of Isabel's voice as he felt himself phase back in at their cabin and he grinned as he was able to control the feeling of vertigo this time. "Honey, I'm home," he responded.
Isabel was so relieved to see them that she let the comment pass unchallenged. She watched him as he turned to check on his dad, noting the way the older Valenti was doing his best to maintain his balance.
"Dad, you alright?"
"I'm good, Son," he insisted, his voice holding just the slightest tremble. He shook his head and then wished he hadn't made that move. "That's a heck of a way to travel."
Uh-huh, Michael thought as he watched the sheriff trying to get his bearings. He was a strong man, but he could see that crossing more than a thousand miles in the blink of an eye was a little more than he'd been prepared for.
He felt Kyle's steadying hand on his arm and he pulled in a couple of deep breaths as he glanced around at the kids he hadn't seen in six months. "I'm a little wobbly on my feet but I come bearing gifts." He looked down at the tin he'd grabbed from the freezer. "I uh, I have no idea what's in it, but I know your mom made it for the holidays, Maria."
"Let me take that for you, Sheriff," Isabel offered as she stepped forward, breaking the silence that seemed to have taken hold of everyone else. She relieved him of the tin and motioned to the furniture. "Would you like to have a seat?"
Kyle was so busy watching his dad for any signs that the 'flight' had adversely affected him that he wasn't paying attention when he pulled his hand free to reach up and adjust his hat. Before he could shout a warning he realized that his dad was still there and that apparently he was staying there with no problem. He looked down at his hand and then back up at his dad, wondering if it would last or if it was a temporary thing.
Jim cleared his throat as his hat settled into the right position and he tipped it back just a tad as he took a moment to really look at the kids. "You're certainly conserving space, aren't you?" he asked with a smile. In spite of the coat he wore he felt a slight shiver race down his spine and his gaze moved around the interior of what he determined to be a cabin. A small cabin, he reiterated silently. It wasn't warm enough but he knew they were already aware of that fact. He studied each of them in turn for a few minutes, barely aware of Isabel maneuvering him over to a chair so he could sit down.
He bit back the protest when he became aware of her actions, easily reading the nervousness in her that was just looking for an outlet. It was obvious his son was also aware of it because after a moment or two of her fussing over making him comfortable, Kyle called her and asked about coffee. It provided a brief respite and in the matter of minutes it took her to make a pot of coffee he took in the kids' appearances.
They were thinner, all of them. Even with the layers of clothing they wore it was evident to him. Their faces told the story of a life being lived on the run. It was there in the wary expression in their eyes that they couldn't quite suppress, it was there in their postures that just couldn't quite fully relax, and it was there in the weary acceptance that surrounded them. It hurt to see such weight on their young shoulders and know that no matter what the future held they would always carry this with them.
He was pulled out of his thoughts when Max took a step forward and his eyes were drawn to the hand that rested on Liz's shoulder. His gaze dropped to find her left hand, seeking the mate to the ring that resided on the third finger of Max's hand. They were too young and too old at the same time, he thought, still not surprised to know that the two of them had wed.
"Thanks for coming to meet us, Sheriff," Max said and that was as far as he got before Isabel came rushing back into the room. Apparently she had decided the man had been given enough time to recover from his trip, he thought with a mental eye roll.
"Kyle said there's a plan in place for you and our parents to leave Roswell." She stared at the sheriff as she waited for confirmation and without consciously doing so she began to twist her wedding rings.
"Are they safe?" Maria jumped in. "I know I just saw Mom but, are they all safe?"
Jim was suddenly reminded just how much of a challenge it was to keep up with a conversation when multiple women were involved. Somehow age never seemed to be a factor. "We've started to implement our plan."
Michael reached for Maria and pulled her closer, feeling the relieved breath she released in response to the sheriff's answer.
"What's the plan, Sheriff?" Liz asked, her arm tightening around her husband's waist.
"The plan is for us to take our lives back." He glanced between Isabel and Max. "It's the plan your father began to put together the night you had to leave and we all have a heavy stake in it because all of our children's lives are being threatened." He paused to swallow with difficulty as he took in their world-weary appearances once more. "When Liz's journal came and we all had a chance to read it we knew it was even more urgent that the plan become a reality."
"And that's where you are with the plan now?" Michael asked. "Making it a reality?"
Jim nodded. "The plan is to leave separately and to live in plain sight; to do that we knew we'd have to leave the country legally. It's taken time to nail down everything we needed so we could do that and also help you out if we had the opportunity to make contact with you again." None of them had known if they would ever have that chance and just saying the words caused his throat to thicken. He rubbed the back of his neck in an effort to keep his emotions in check.
Michael released Maria and started to move around the confined space, vaguely aware of the others moving to give him room to prowl. "Let me guess: we're goin' to Canada."
"That's the plan, yes. We thought it'd be the safest and most realistic option." He reached into his coat and pulled out a large envelope. "Obtaining safe passage across the border was much easier than trying to get you out of the country by air or water." He glanced down at the envelope as he stood. "We were able to set it up so that you'd have a safe place that'll get you off the road." He took a couple of steps forward and held it out to Max. "You'll find what you need to cross the border legally."
Michael leaned up against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest as he mulled over the sheriff's words. "You don't know where we're goin'," he said after a moment.
"No, it's easy enough to slip up so it was agreed that none of us would know where the others were gonna be in case any of us were…" He shifted his weight from one foot to the other but before he could continue Liz finished the sentence for him.
"Kidnapped before you could leave," she said quietly.
Maria frowned. "Wait, if none of you knows where you're going or where our safe place is, then who set the plan up?"
The sheriff's gaze locked on Michael even though Maria was the one who had voiced the question. "We pooled our resources to make this happen. Philip and I both have contacts that either work in the government or are influential in areas that could be helpful. I've been working with Agent Duff through back channels since you left."
Michael straightened up, his hands clenching around the edge of the counter behind him, and his eyes narrowing at the thought of anyone in the FBI or the government being involved in setting up the plan. "How do we know they're not just setting all of us up with this plan?"
"I trust Agent Duff, Michael. We all know what's at stake if we trust the wrong person and we've been very careful to that end. None of us would ever do anything to jeopardize your safety or your wellbeing."
He nodded after giving that some thought. The sheriff had never trusted blindly and he knew how seriously he took his job as a protector.
"I knew if she had any information about your whereabouts then maybe we could anticipate where you'd end up. Instead the only report she managed to see was one detailing your narrow escape from the Special Unit in Oregon." He held his hands up when he saw the worried glances being exchanged. "If anything had happened to any of you I would've told your parents, but when she told me that you'd all escaped without being injured I decided it was best not to put that burden on them." He ran a hand over his face and shook his head. "She hasn't heard anything since and I took that as a good sign."
"I'm glad you didn't tell them," Liz murmured.
Jim shook his head. "They deserve the truth and one day I hope you're able to somehow let them know what happened and that you're safe." He cleared his throat and he watched his son as he reached over to rub Isabel's arm in a gesture of comfort. "Agent Duff was able to handle the paperwork for the van you left in that night so that everything was legitimate."
"Well, that could throw a monkey wrench in the works," Kyle said. "The engine tanked a week or so back, that's how we ended up here. We managed to replace the van but there's no title and we're using the same plates."
"Can you get me the VIN number before our return flight? I should be able to get that fixed by Monday."
"Good, because we're leaving before daybreak tomorrow," Michael said.
"Um, Michael?" Maria tugged on his sleeve to get his attention. "Tomorrow's Sunday."
He leveled a look at her, one that simply said: And your point is?
"Um, Sheriff, you said the plan to leave is ready to be put into action," Liz said and her fingers clenched in Max's coat. "How will that work and when will you leave?"
Max's heart clenched in his chest at the underlying pain he could hear in his wife's voice as she asked about their parents' plan for leaving Roswell for good. As much as he wanted to believe that one day they'd be able to safely return he knew the likelihood of that was slim. But having their parents there, knowing they were there in the homes they'd grown up in, and waiting for them to return had helped him to hold on to that hope.
Jim took in their anxious expressions before answering her question. "The plan's for us to leave at different times to avoid drawing unwanted attention to ourselves." He nodded at the envelope Max was crushing in his tightly fisted hand. "Each of us has one of those for when it's time to leave. We figure if we split up we increase our chances of avoiding surveillance and successfully reaching our destinations."
"You said destinations," Isabel whispered hoarsely. "You're not going to the same place are you?"
He rubbed a hand over his face, suddenly feeling a lot older than he was. "The safest way for us to avoid detection is for all of us to head in a different direction and for none of us to know each other's destination. We won't even know our own destinations until we're on the road. I know it's not what you wanted to hear, and it's not what I wanted to be the one to tell you, but it's what's best for everyone."
"Wait, what about my mom?" Maria asked, moving forward to stand in front of him. "Is she gonna be leaving all alone and heading off to God only knows where?"
Michael came up behind her, his arms coming around her to pull her back against him. He had a feeling Amy wouldn't be leaving Roswell alone. She might be the epitome of the independent woman, but she wasn't a fool. And Jim Valenti wouldn't stand back while she was put in that kind of danger. He would have made provisions to ensure she wasn't alone.
"Maria, your mom and I discussed that very thing and we agreed that traveling alone presented too much of a risk," Jim assured her. "She has a convention coming up, one that's out-of-state and will require nearly a weeks' time just for traveling, setup, and participation. We'll be leaving in a day or two and it'll be our cover story." He smiled and reached out to rest his hand on her arm. "This's been in the works for a while now, it's not a last-minute cover; I put in for the time off from work a while back and Hanson's under the impression that I'll be back after the first of the year."
"What about Liz's parents?" Max asked, feeling the tension in his wife's body.
The smile faded. "They left the other day, not long before Maria and Kyle showed up at home."
They were gone, Liz thought as the news hit her like a ton of bricks. They were gone and would probably never be able to return to the home they'd spent a lifetime making. She wondered if Kyle would be able to reach them since they had no way of knowing where they were. No way of knowing if they were alright or if they were still… She squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled deeply, drawing strength from Max's embrace. Don't go there, Liz, she ordered herself.
"What about the Crashdown?" she wondered aloud.
"Open and running as usual," Jim answered. "Anyone who needed to know about their plans for the next couple of weeks believes they're getting away until the holidays are over. They sold the café to a silent partner with the understanding that it would remain open and operating as usual. It was very important to them that it stay that way."
"What about Mr. and Mrs. Evans?" Kyle asked as his hand slipped down to take Isabel's. She was so tense there were fine tremors running through her and he knew it was taking everything she had to hold it together.
Jim flexed his hands before shoving them in his pockets, his gaze moving between brother and sister. "Philip thought it'd be best for he and Diane wait until the rest of us had left before they made their move." He watched the way the two of them exchanged quick glances. "Your dad's worked with his contacts to make sure there were countermeasures in place in the event anything prevented one or more of us from leaving as planned."
Max caught the look of relief that swept across his sister's features, momentarily easing the tension there. He wondered if she was even conscious of how easily she accepted the comfort that Kyle offered without reservation. She moved away from the rest of them, going to the window and staring out into the darkness beyond. He watched her as she reached for her left hand, worrying the rings resting there. Jesse, he thought as realization dawned. Even though she had remained silent he could hear the unasked question that she wouldn't or couldn't ask. Was she afraid of the answer? Afraid that he was still in Roswell or more afraid that he'd finally given up and had moved on? He felt for his sister. She was in a position he didn't envy.
Liz drew in a shaky breath, releasing it along with the words weighing on her mind. "So, I guess this's really goodbye."
Jim looked each of them in the eye before responding to her statement. "No, I won't accept that. I have to believe that one day we'll be safe enough to meet again." He shook his head and inhaled slowly as he checked his watch, wanting to stay but knowing he needed to get back. He looked between Michael and Max, seeing the bond between them was strengthening. "I want you to remember what I said about that envelope," he said, needing to get that point across. "And while I know my place is clean of listening devices I can't be sure I'm not being watched, so as much as I'd rather spend more time here with you, I'd best be getting back home."
Kyle nodded and he reluctantly reached for his dad's hand. He focused on his breathing, drawing on every bit of meditation he'd studied in order to keep his emotions from running him over.
"You… all of you," Jim said, his voice gruff, "your parents and I are so very proud of all of you." He swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I know what they'd give to be standin' in my shoes right now and I know how far they'd go to keep you safe." He smiled tightly. "There are no boundaries, no walls, and no limits to the love a parents has for his or her child." He looked at Max and then Isabel, nodding slightly when he saw the emotions welling up in her eyes. "I don't know when and I don't know how, but someday, we'll see each other again. Until that day comes you do what's necessary and know that your parents and I love you without condition." He glanced down at his son's hand, wrapped so securely around his, and he squeezed it tightly. His eyes were damp as he straightened. "Godspeed until we meet again." He turned his head to look at his son, drinking in the sight of the man he'd become. "It's time."
As the men disappeared from sight the girls followed suit; beating a path to the bathroom and slamming the door behind them. Max stood there with his mouth hanging open. His intention had been to comfort his wife, knowing she would be upset after the meeting with the sheriff but apparently it was unnecessary at the moment.
"Who knows," Michael muttered in response to the dumbfounded look on his friend's face.
"What now?" He nodded at the envelope clenched in his hand.
"I think we should do what the sheriff advised. Keep it in a safe place and don't open it up until we leave in the mornin'. That way if anything should happen, the majority of the group will be headed someplace safe."
"Do you think they were really able to secure someplace safe?"
"They wouldn't run the risk of sending us into somethin' that hadn't been well thought out. I say we hide it and wait."
"Good enough for me," Max agreed.
Michael crossed his arms over his chest and watched Max as he began to move around the room. "Somethin' else on your mind?" he asked, not missing the furtive glances the other man kept shooting towards the bathroom.
"I know being separated is a risk, but when we get to wherever this safe place is, Liz needs to be able to see her parents again, Michael, even if that means askin' Kyle to take her to see them. I don't know how all the logistics would work out, but if that's what I've gotta do to make it happen, that's what I'm gonna do."
His back teeth were grinding together in an effort to keep his mouth shut and prevent his initial reaction from being verbalized. After a moment he uncrossed his arms and lowered them to a less defensive posture and pulled himself up straight. He studied Max's demeanor, buying time to mull over the reasoning behind the statement. He glanced back at the direction the girls had taken and nodded. Maria had seen her mom and if nothing else, it had given her the hope that maybe one day in the future they would see each other again. Liz hadn't been given that and in Max's shoes he'd probably be considering the same thing. Maybe. "We'll figure it out."
There was nothing to figure out as far as Max was concerned but he nodded anyway. He knew the way Michael's mind worked, knew he was weighing the pros and cons of such an action, but the separation and uncertainty was putting a strain on Liz and he needed to find a way to ease that. Kyle and his newfound powers was the only solution he had at the moment. Michael was being supportive and he could appreciate the restraint he had shown by not just outright insisting it was too dangerous and refusing to even consider it. "Yeah, thanks."
The bathroom door opened, drawing their attention as the girls emerged in similar states of barely disguised distress. Liz was smoothing down her hair, her freshly washed face making her appear less stressed than when she had sought sanctuary in the tiny room. Her eyes didn't quite meet his as she approached him, a dead giveaway that her emotions hadn't quite caught up with her appearance. Maria didn't seem too concerned about hiding her feelings as she made her way over to Michael and slid into his embrace with practiced ease. His sister gave him a smile, but it was one of those phony smiles she pasted on when she wanted the world to think she was fine when she was falling apart inside. And he knew better than to question her about it in front of anyone else.
His focus quickly shifted when Liz slid her hand into his, her fingers slipping through his and locking tightly. She looked up at him, her soft eyes shimmering, and a quiet sniffle escaping as she spoke in a near whisper.
"Can we go back to our cabin now?"
Maria nodded in agreement, taking comfort from the weight of Michael's arm over her shoulders. "That's a good idea."
"We'll go as soon as Valenti gets back," Michael promised. "We're – "
"Kyle!" Isabel called as he rematerialized in the center of the room.
"How many people do you know who can just zip in an' outta places?" he joked. He must be adjusting, he thought, because he wasn't getting hit with the nausea like he had that first time.
"You're alright?"
He grinned and held his arms out at his sides. "All in one piece, but I wouldn't say no to a hot shower and a long night of sleep." He bit back a yawn and looked at Michael. "Speakin' of which… what time are you wantin' to hit the bricks in the mornin'?"
It was really time to leave. The girls exchanged a look that didn't go unnoticed by the guys but remained unspoken.
"We should be over at Max and Liz's cabin by six at the absolute latest. That gives us time to pack everything in and be on the road before daylight."
"Okay, fine, time's set," Isabel said and began gathering up coats and scarves. "Time for everyone to go now." She shoved the winter gear into hands, unmindful and uncaring who got what. "We all need to get some rest and it's getting late."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Kyle sighed tiredly as he flopped down on the loveseat, propping his feet up on the coffee table but keeping the soles of his boots hanging off one corner. He could smell Dad's cologne clinging to his clothes, could almost feel the bone-crushing hug they'd exchanged before he left his dad at home. Alone. Oh, he knew Jim Valenti could take care of himself with or without the designation as Roswell's sheriff, but there was safety in numbers, and their numbers were steadily dwindling.
Liz's parents had already left Roswell. Dad and Ms. Deluca would be leaving in the next few days, and the Evans' wouldn't be far behind them. All fleeing their homes and going on the run, heading in different directions, and who knew if any of them would ever see each other again? They were on the run too, but at least they had each other. Not to mention three of them were armed and dangerous and two of them were… well, he wasn't sure how dangerous he was but he could recall with vivid clarity the way Liz had flung Tess across the room the night the fourth alien had reappeared.
And now it was time for some redirection, he thought as he forced himself to his feet and over to the kitchen. No way was he getting caught up in those memories again. His mind was too tired to fight them back and it would send him someplace he really didn't wanna go when he finally fell asleep. He could hear the shower running and he wondered how long he'd been sitting there. He turned his head to find the time and winced when he felt the painful stiffness in his neck.
He glanced over the small pile of dishes and decided he'd go ahead and wash them since Isabel had made dinner. It was the least he could do after that meal she had whipped up. And it would keep him busy until he could take his turn in the shower and hopefully work some of the knots out of his neck. He was halfway through the dishes and squeezing more soap onto the sponge by the time she had succeeded in draining every bit of hot water from the water heater. He glanced at her as she padded out of her room and he couldn't help but smile at her casual, relaxed appearance.
Isabel paused by the hot water tank near the kitchen and pressed her palm against it for a few moments, ensuring Kyle's shower would be a nice hot one. She watched him for a moment before moving around him to lean against the counter on his other side. "I think your day's been long enough without getting stuck with the dishes," she said.
He shrugged one shoulder. "S'alright, I don't mind," he said, shooting a tired grin at her.
"Shower's all yours, go make use of it."
He shook his head. His body might not be thrilled about doing dishes but it kept him focused on a mundane task rather than letting it wander into dangerous territory.
She knew what he was doing and she understood. She also knew he was bone tired and needed to relax his muscles before he crashed. His mind wouldn't take him anyplace he didn't want to go tonight, she'd see to that. She reached over and placed her hand on his shoulder, not surprised when she felt the tension coiled so tightly in him. "Go, Kyle. Take a hot shower and then stretch out in your bed. Enjoy it because who knows when we're gonna get the chance to have this much space to ourselves again." She smiled when he finally looked up and met her gaze. "It'll be a peaceful night," she promised.
Kyle nodded after a few minutes. He knew what her promise meant and he accepted the offer gratefully.
Minutes later the only sound in the cabin was the steady fall of the water in the shower and Isabel looked around at the mess he had left in the sink. Why did guys always think if you squeezed half of the dishwashing liquid into the sponge it meant the dishes would be magically cleaner? She shook her head and started to reach into the bubbling mess before changing her mind.
What were secret powers for if a girl couldn't use them at a time like this?
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The sound of the buzzer on the dryer going off would've been annoying in the past, but now it symbolized permanence and home. Liz could feel the warmth coming from the machine as she reached for the handle to pull the door open, marveling at the simple luxury of pulling her favorite PJs out right after a long hot shower. It was comforting to wrap up in one of the few things she'd taken from home just before leaving Roswell.
She thought about Mom and as she pulled the warm PJs on she could almost imagine the feel of her mom's embrace. She mused over the distance between them, not so much miles but emotional distance. Her mom had been quiet and reserved in many ways and she had used that to keep her from getting too close, especially after she had started dating Max. She had been teetering on the precipice of something she hadn't fully understood at the time. Standing at the edge of childhood and peering into the unknown mysteries of womanhood. Looking back now she could appreciate her mom's attempts to reach her, to hold onto her, but she had wanted so badly to break free of everything she knew and grab onto something she wanted so badly.
She could see that moment in her bedroom so clearly. Her frustration at what she had felt was her mom smothering her, trying to hold on too tightly had burst free of her as an angry tirade. And she hadn't understood the confusion that was rioting through her physically and emotionally. She had felt like a mass of contradictions pitted against each other in an unending internal battle. She had been so sure that her mom couldn't possibly understand that she had pushed her away, created distance, and it was only now when that distance might as well have been light years that she could appreciate that effort.
She closed her eyes and she could almost feel the emotions seething inside of her as she faced off against her mother that night she had snuck back into the house and gotten caught. She hadn't been able to see it at the time, but who would understand better than someone who had already been there? But, she supposed, that was something all mothers and daughters went through. Her thoughts shifted forward to another conversation between them, not long after the confrontation.
"Don't ever leave this house. Don't stop being my baby girl."
She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling the warmth from the heated material seep into her skin. Her fingertips rubbed over the soft sleeves and she forced the tears back. I'll always be your baby girl, she thought resolutely. She inhaled deeply and released it slowly, feeling her muscles relax with the motion. Calmer, she made her way out of the bathroom, pausing long enough to hit the light switch.
She took the few steps through their darkened bedroom and into the living room where Max was sitting on the couch, ready for bed. She stood still for a moment, just watching him. His upper body hunched over, right elbow on his knee, chin balanced on his fisted hand, and his expression one of concentration. It was the pose she'd come to associate with the statue 'The Thinker'. He was unaware of his emulation of the statue and no one else had ever made a comment to bring it to his attention, though she wasn't sure how anyone could miss it. But until they did, she would just enjoy keeping it to herself.
He was staring at the envelope the sheriff had given him and as she watched he suddenly relaxed and reached for it. She could tell he was unaware of her presence, his focus solely on the envelope. She always knew when he became aware of her, there were telltale signs and he was exhibiting none of them at the moment.
"Something on your mind, Mr. Evans?" she asked with a small smile.
He reached for her without looking up, his hand unerringly latching onto hers and pulling her down to sit beside him. He dropped the envelope on the coffee table and stretched before dropping back to settle into the cushions. He was quiet for a moment before he turned his head to look at her. "I was thinkin' about my dad, wishing I could tell him how proud I am that he's my dad." He dropped his gaze. "And that I could tell my mom how much I miss being home." He swallowed hard. "How much I miss both of them."
She squeezed his hand, letting him share what he was comfortable with. She watched him as he leaned forward to stare at the envelope once more.
"I was about to hide it and," his fingertips ghosted over the surface, "I thought maybe…"
"You'd get a flash," she said, remembering him telling her that when things were intense sometimes they'd get flashes. "But you didn't."
He sighed and shook his head. "No."
"Maybe that's a good thing, Max. You have no control over the flashes and for all we know you might see something about what's in that envelope." She nudged him. "Put it away for tonight. It'll work itself out when the time's right."
"Liz, when the time's right I want you to see your…" He was silenced when she placed a finger against his lips and shook her head. He wanted her to know he would do everything in his power to make sure she saw her parents again, but he could see in her eyes that she knew and believed it.
"I'm here because I love you. My choice, Max, and like I said last night, never forget that."
He reached for her, cradling her face in his hands and moving in for a kiss that quickly had both of them forgetting their regrets. With a wave of his hand over the envelope he used a trick Isabel had taught him and within moments it had become part of the table. His hand free again he gathered his wife up in his arms and got to his feet to carry her to bed.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Maria tugged on the collar of Michael's thermal shirt that she had put on after the long bath she had taken to help calm her after their meeting with the sheriff. She inhaled deeply, taking in his scent along with the smoky smell from the fireplace that seemed to cling to everything. She checked her reflection in the mirror as her hands smoothed over the shirt and she caught sight of the yellow ducky shower curtain behind her. It made her think of the day they had purchased it at Dave's Hardware that day they'd gone in for supplies not long after breaking down and the memory brought a smile to her face.
She turned the light out and left the bathroom, stepping into the larger room and immediately smelled the fresh aroma of dry coffee grounds. Her gaze moved over the counter, pausing on the Winnie the Pooh and Tigger mugs where they stood like sentries next to the coffee maker that was set and ready to brew when morning came. She turned her head slightly, unable to stop the tired smile when she saw the kitchen chair that had been singled out and assigned its usual guard duty for the night. She wondered absently if the chair would have a permanent notch at its top where it had been wedged up under the doorknob for so many nights now.
Her train of thought was sidetracked by the sound of a loud horn blaring on the TV and it took her a moment to determine that it served to announce a score by one of the teams playing. Her eyes shifted to Michael and she noted that he hadn't even reacted to the sound, something that should've had his attention whether it was the team he was rooting for or not. He was slouched down in the overstuffed chair that he had claimed during their stay, leaning to one side with his weight braced on his elbow. Watching the game or not, as soon as the commercials started he began to channel surf.
She made her way over to him with just a few strides, noticing that he had managed to make his way around the 10-channel dial at least twice already. When she reached his chair she leaned over to wrap her arms around his neck and released a tired sigh. "Think I'm gonna go to bed," she murmured. "I'm beat."
He lifted one hand, resting it on her crossed arms for a moment before giving them a squeeze that was accompanied by a nod.
She kissed his cheek and retraced her steps, diverting from her previous path to make her way over to the bed. As much as she wanted to push the thoughts away she couldn't stop the realization that tonight would be the last time she and Michael shared the comfortable old bed. As she climbed into bed and snuggled down on her side she became aware of the lack of sound coming from the living area.
She closed her eyes and listened, taking in the sounds that had become familiar so quickly. His sure movements as he banked the fire, his footsteps, surprisingly almost silent for a man his size, the quiet jingle of an assortment of loose change as he emptied his pockets out onto the nightstand, the raspy slither of his wallet chain as it was added to the pile, and finally the rustling sound of him getting undressed. Although their impending departure the next day was heavy on their minds they were closer than they had been as a couple in a long time.
The mattress dipped as he slipped into bed, his long arm settling over her waist and pulling her into his body. She closed her eyes and sighed in contentment, taking comfort from the moment and letting everything else slip away. Morning would come soon enough and then there would be no choice but to face what was coming, but for now… for now they would simply… be.
For a moment her mind wandered to Liz and Isabel. It had been a difficult evening for all of them, but she knew they would be finding their own comfort that night so she let those thoughts float away as well. She smiled as she thought about Michael playing Santa, especially those precious moments when he'd had Maggie and Michelle on his lap. Her heart filled as she recalled that one amazing moment when he had been so in his element. She reached for his hand where it rested at her waist, sliding her fingers through his. "How long before we need to be up?"
He buried his face in her hair for a moment before shifting around so that his chin could find that perfect spot on her shoulder. "Six hours, give or take a few minutes." He didn't want to take her from this place that had become a home in such a short time, didn't want to take her away from the people she had quickly come to care about, but he didn't have the words to express himself. No matter how much time passed, he just wasn't very good at the touchy-feely stuff. "Maria, if things were different…"
She sighed and nodded, hearing the regret in his voice and the things he couldn't seem to verbalize, and she turned in his arms to face him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, urging his head to drop so she could place her lips on his. "I love you, Michael," she said quietly.
He rolled her onto her back and settled over her. "Maria, look at me."
Her eyes locked on his and for just a moment she saw herself in her Snowflake outfit and she could feel the way he felt as he watched her. It was a fleeting moment, but filled with his feelings for her. She tried to hold back the tears that had formed without her knowledge or permission, but against her will a few of them escaped. She reached for him, her hand tangling in his hair and as she opened her mouth to say his name, he captured her lips and took what he was now certain was his.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
There was a bite to the night air as Kyle leaned against the side of his car waiting for Isabel to return with what could possibly be the next clue in their search for Enigma. Even though he clearly remembered the sequence of events he was well aware they had been altered because in reality he had been knocked out of the running by some guy with a smart mouth. He paid little attention to the altered scenes as he stepped back from the dream and let his mind wander back to that night as it had happened.
He chuckled as he recalled Isabel telling him that she was sure the girls had liked him. He was still sure that had been her reassuring him because as soon as that Neanderthal had come along the girls had taken off with him. She had sensed the sarcasm in his voice when he had responded and he smiled as that moment materialized in front of him and he watched the scene play out.
"Is this a confidence issue? Because women can detect insecurity a mile away, Kyle."
"Do you detect it?"
He couldn't help but laugh at the thoughtful look that shifted to slight disgust as she responded.
"No. I'm married. My radar's been dismantled."
They had gone back and forth for a few minutes before she had suddenly decided it was time to go. She had said they were going to find him a social life and then given his snack a disdainful look.
"Drop the jerky."
He had dropped it without a second thought and they had been off to a college party. He could feel the too-warm air in the room as they sat on a couch looking around while Isabel pointed out different girls for him. There was definitely a visual buffet of women for him to feast his eyes on but really there was only one girl he was interested in.
He glanced around, making sure he was alone as he observed the dream and rather than sit there and talk to Bitsy he followed Isabel as she went to get drinks. He shivered when the temperature suddenly dropped and he glanced around at the partygoers. He didn't remember that happening but he blew it off until a chill moved through his body and he realized how cold it really was.
The cabin was dark, which was to be expected since he knew it was late, but he blinked owlishly as he looked around. He had gotten used to it being cool in the cabin at night, but as a rule the pile of blankets was sufficient enough to keep the worst of it out. He rolled over to look at the doorway when he thought he heard the sound of a door shutting and he rubbed his eyes when he saw a shadow cross through the patch of moonlight that lay across the floor.
He tried to focus but he lost sight of the shadow and after a moment he sighed and forced himself to sit up. He rolled out of bed, biting his tongue to hold in the sharp hiss when his feet made contact with the ice cold floor. He rubbed his arms as he crept to the doorway, squinting to see what was creating the shadow
He grimaced when the cold air swept across his bare feet before hitting him with a full frontal assault. He moved around the cabin quietly, searching for anything out of place, but finally gave up when he decided that nothing was stirring.
Not even the proverbial mouse, he thought as he quietly padded back to his room and slipped back into bed. He burrowed under the covers and snuggled into the pillow, rubbing his head against it as he searched for that perfect spot and sighing happily when he found it. The last thing he heard was the sound of the wind blowing and the branches gently scraping against the window.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Liz carefully eased out from under her husband's arm, wiggling across the mattress and slipping out of bed. She stood and grabbed his shirt, pulling it on and wrapping it around her as she crept from their room. She moved to stand at one of the windows, moving the curtain aside to peer out into the sky. She sighed as she took in the sky, unable to tell if it was the normal grayish-white that seemed to be so normal here or if it was cloudy and overcast.
She missed the black velvet of the late night sky, missed the millions of tiny pinpoints of light that danced across that dark canvas. In the desert they had seemed so close it had almost felt like she could reach up and pick them from the sky if she had wanted to. Even if she could see the stars she knew they wouldn't be the same. There was just something about viewing them from the desert; being surrounded by the arid air and the nighttime chorus of nocturnal insects and birds. She sighed and moved away from the window and before long she found herself holding the cabin journal.
How many nights had she spent on her rooftop balcony making entries in her own journal? She could still feel the itch in her fingers to pick up a pen and put her thoughts onto paper, the words coming together to create an equation her mind could organize and make sense of. She missed the freedom of putting her thoughts down, missed the naivety that had accompanied the belief that her words were sacred and for her eyes alone.
She smiled tightly as she remembered the day she had realized her journal had disappeared. The day she had realized that just because they were her words, thoughts, and feelings, they weren't protected and they weren't safe simply because they existed between the covers of her journal. The suspect list had included Alex, her mom, and even Kyle at one point. She rolled her eyes at the memory of breaking into Sheriff Valenti's home so she and Max could search for the journal.
And all along it had been safe in the hands of the one person she never would've suspected. To this day it amazed her that Michael hadn't simply destroyed it, and given his feelings about her knowing the truth at that time, she still didn't really understand why he hadn't. Yeah, he had commented that anyone reading it would know about her and left it at that, but the truth was, had anyone ever gotten their hands on that journal they would've known the truth. It just would've been told through her eyes.
He had made her so nervous, the way he so calmly spoke and moved, things so un-Michael-like, especially at that time. She could remember the surreal quality of that moment when he had revealed his part in the disappearance of her journal. And then he had done something else she would've never expected. He had returned the journal undamaged and called her a friend. She smiled at the memory. She had been true to her word; she had never revealed him as the culprit and she wondered what it was she had said, what he had read in her words that had given him one more reason to be jealous of Max.
She put the cabin journal back in its place on the mantel and gave it a fond pat before turning and looking around the dimly lit room. She would love to stay here a while longer, have more time for her and Max to enjoy being a newlywed couple, but she knew the time had come for them to move on. They didn't know what the future held but they were finally at the place where they were really facing it together.
She made her way back to the bedroom and watched him sleeping for several long minutes before she slipped out of his shirt and eased back under the covers and into his arms. It didn't matter if their future was Moose Jaw or Mars; what mattered was that they were together and even with an uncertain future that was everything.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Maria awoke to darkness, but after a moment her eyes adjusted and she began to make out shapes. It wasn't as dark as she had first thought, but she had become accustomed to the gray light that filtered in on the cold, wintry nights. It was just those first few moments after waking that made it seem darker than it really was. Her sleepy gaze locked on Michael where he stood in front of the window that faced the big lake.
"Michael? What're you doin' up?" She got up and quickly made her way over to him. "You should be in bed, you need your rest." She stopped in front of him and immediately saw what had captured his attention.
"It's snowing," he said and pointed unnecessarily.
"Well, maybe it's just a few inches." She craned her neck around to locate the alarm clock and internally groaned at the time: 4:45am. She sighed when he pulled away from her and went to turn the TV on to check the weather. She shook her head and let him be. There would be no talking him back to bed until he had checked the weather, she thought as she crawled back under the covers and snuggled down.
"Son of a bitch!"
She had just found that one perfect spot when he snarled at the report and his loud epithet had her bolting upright. "What is it?" Her little voice chimed in at that moment. Do you really wanna know?
"Blizzard warnings," he bit out. "The airports are closed along with the Interstates. I-75's a two-track right now with 12 inches on the ground and more on the way."
She rolled her eyes. I-75's a two-track, she recited silently. What did that even mean? It means he's been watching the weather up north too long.
"I can't believe this," he ranted, paying no attention to her when she climbed out of bed with a long-suffering sigh. "How could Isabel do this?!"
"We don't know she did this," Maria said as she pried the remote out of his hand and turned the television off. "The earlier reports did say we could get 5-8 inches." She shrugged and turned him, giving him a nudge back towards the bed. "Even if it was Isabel, then look at it this way: she's leveling the playing field. I mean, think about it, Guerin. If we can't move, neither can they." She finally maneuvered him into bed and under the covers. She kissed him gently and fussed with the covers, making sure the cold would stay out. He wasn't happy but she could feel him calming.
She continued to talk, her voice soothing as his breathing began to change and he finally drifted off to sleep again. Her gaze left his relaxed features to settle on the window, her vision blurring and obscuring the falling snow as she thought back to earlier that night. She recalled Liz and Isabel's raw silent pain after learning about the plan their parents had put into motion, a plan that had included a separation that might well mean they never had the opportunity to see each other again.
Her eyelids began to droop but in her minds' eye she could see the three of them standing in the tiny bathroom trying in vain to make themselves presentable before going back out to join the others. As they had struggled to hold their emotions at bay for each other as well as for their own selves, Isabel had spoken up, the words seeming to give her strength.
"We need a little Christmas."