Chapter 2
I felt almost weightless, like riding on a breeze, and the sweet smell of fresh cut grass drifting here and there to me. My eyes were closed, but streaks of sunlight danced across the darkness of my inner eyelids, and it felt like someone was stroking back the strands of hair that frayed across my forehead. And it felt familiar. Too tired to open my eyes to see if it was true, I lay in the dream, picturing the one who held me, clear as day feeling her presence. Golden hair falling softly, blue eyes brimmed with love and understanding, and a smile that always told me everything would be alright. I felt her begin to rock me, humming softly, and I couldn't resist any longer...
"Mom?"
I opened my eyes to meet other blue ones, but... they were less familiar. It was Face, leaning over from where he sat to my right in the A-Team van. He gave me a half-smile and removed his hand from my shoulder, and I realized he must have been trying to rouse me, hence the rocking feeling.
"Wake up, sunshine. You're almost home."
He returned to his facing-forward position and I yawned, then sat up straighter to stretch my limbs, still trying to seperate dream from reality. I had been riding in the A-Team van with the guys for just over a day straight, stopping only for food and gas. B.A. had driven all but several hours, when Hannibal took over, but now B.A. was behind the wheel again. Hannibal sat beside him in the passenger seat, dozing, and Face was behind Hannibal. I sat behind B.A., leaning against the wall of the van, while Murdock had chosen to make himself comfortable further back. There was no real chair back there, but he had folded up a blanket and sat cross-legged on it, chin in his palm while he stared ahead at the windshield.
"How much further, Mae?" B.A. called back to me.
I leaned forward and studied the area as it passed by us.
"Probably another half hour." I leaned back. "You can all stay at my house. Grandpa lives there too."
"Will he mind a gang of wanted men in his living room?" Face asked nervously.
"Um... I don't think so." I avoided his eyes.
Hannibal turned around in his chair and locked his gaze on me.
"You didn't tell him. Did you?"
"Well..." I squirmed slightly in my chair under his stern look.
Grandpa was never a fan of the A-Team. In all the hype of finding the A-Team and getting them to agree on the trip back home to start the search for my dad, I honestly hadn't thought of how Grandpa might react when I told him.
"Something tell's me ole Gramps isn't too fond of the A-Team," Face sensed.
I sighed and nodded.
"He won't shoot us, will he?" The Faceman instinctively put a hand up onto his cheek, as if imagining a shot to the head.
"No, Grandpa isn't like that. But... I will have to talk to him, to get him to agree not to call the military police on you."
"Maybe we should lay low for a night, get a hotel." Hannibal considered. "Then when the coast is clear and your old man is cooled down, we'll show up."
00000000000000000000000000000000
"Sounds like a plan." I agreed, catching Hannibal's grin before he turned back to the front.
Half an hour later, the van turned onto the street I grew up on. Mom had raised me in the same house that she was, far enough outside town to call it country living, just close enough to town for quick necessities. We only had a few neighbors, mostly older folks who kept to themselves, and one family of three. My mom had been the sort of watchful eye over them, always helping them out when need be with whatever she could do. My stomach knotted as the memories of my mother came flooding back, and we drew nearer to my house.
"It's that one," I almost choked out, pointing. "The white farm-style house. Just drop me here, and I'll walk up. I don't want Grandpa to see your van."
"Alright kid," Hannibal said to me as B.A. stopped the van. "Gather as many clues as you can about your father, and then give us a call at this number-" he handed me a card - "and let us know the best place around here to meet. Meanwhile, work on your grandpa."
Face opened the sliding van door for me, and I crossed in front of him to step out.
"Thanks, guys. I really appreciate you all coming all this way."
They all just nodded and smiled wearily, tired from the travel. Face closed the van door, and I started walking towards my house, behind me hearing the van turn around and drive away, The engine sound faded into the distance, leaving me alone on my street. Sighing, I made my way down the street, hearing the buzz of the streetlights turning on as I reached the porch steps of our old house.
A deep throated warning bark came from behind the screen door as a board creaked underneath my feet.
"It's just me, Trigger," I said, and the growl immediately turned to a happy whimper as my dog recognized my voice and smell. I opened the door and was quickly overwhelmed by furry feet on my chest and a wet tongue trying to lick my face. I couldn't help but laugh as I gave Trigger a tight hug, then loudly announced myself into the house.
"Grandpa! It's Mae! I'm home!"
I wrangled myself away from the flying paws and slobber. He backed up and promptly sat as he had been trained, eyes on my face.
"Good boy, Trigger! Where's Grandpa?"
His pointy black ears tilted at the familiar words and he immediately darted away towards the living room. I kicked off my boots but kept my jacket on, and stepped into the kitchen to follow the dog. It smelled slightly of burnt cheese, and a quick glance at the messy stovetop confirmed that Grandpa had indeed been living off of grilled cheese and tomato soup while I was gone. I kicked a dog toy out of my way and avoided an opened case of ginger ale cans on the floor as I proceeded through the kitchen and into the living room.
"Mae!"
My grandfather rose stiffly from his old overstuffed chair in front of the fireplace. He looked tired but his eyes sparkled as he spread his arms wide to pull me into a smothering embrace.
"By golly, I've been worried about you kid! I'm so glad you made it back safe! I can't believe you left without telling me! Don't you ever do that again!"
"I'm sorry, Grandpa..."
I breathed in his scent of peppermints and wood smoke, and the familiarity of home suddenly made me feel very tired from my journey. I yawned as he released me from his grip, prompting him to guide me to a matching chair beside his. It had been Grandma's, then my mother's, and now naturally I took it over. It was in better shape than Grandpa's, the same navy blue soft fabric, only his was more faded and worn in places and mine better cared for, and it still held traces of my mom's perfume. I snagged the crochet throw that was folded neatly over the back of my chair and snuggled up under it, breathing in the stronger smell of my mom that still lingered on her handiwork. Trigger stood sniffing every inch of me he could reach, fascinated by all the different smells I carried, and I could feel Grandpa eyeing me impatiently as he waited for me to speak of my journey.
"You find what you were after out there, Mae?"
I let out a deep breath before answering him, and stared a moment at the flames licking in the fireplace. The warmth felt good on my face and hands after being outside in the chilly air.
"Sort of. I didn't find Dad, but I found some people who may be able to help me."
"What sort of people?" Grandpa's voice held a tenseness that I knew well. He was always concerned for my welfare, and never trusted strangers, especially with me.
"Well... I don't know exactly how to describe them," I began, mindlessly picking at an end of string that poked out of the blanket, that signified the end of one color and beginning of another.
"They were in the Vietnam war, like Dad was. They still stick together around L.A., and work together at the same job."
I shot a glance over at him to see if he would accept my description, and while he looked a bit suspicious, he didn't press me about them.
"Did they know your father?"
"I don't know. I'm meeting them tomorrow with whatever clues Mom kept about Dad, and they'll see what they can find out."
"You're going back to L.A. tomorrow?!" Grandpa nearly lept from his chair.
"No, no! I'm staying here," I laughed a little at his concern. "These guys drove all this way. They really want to help find Dad."
I conveniently left out the part where I rode in the back of their van all that way with complete strangers, since I knew Grandpa would have done more than leap from his chair. He stared at me, seeming half impressed and half more suspicious than before.
"I'd like to meet these people. Have them come for breakfast, and we can go over clues right here."
I looked away from him and at the fire, suddenly feeling small and nervous. There was no way he'd have the A-Team in the kitchen for coffee! I stared hard at the flames as I thought how to respond, but my sudden silence must have clued him in that I was hiding something.
"You found the A-Team. Didn't you." He asked quietly.
I turned to meet his knowing gaze, surprised.
"How did you figure that out?" I asked, genuinely curious.
He leaned back in his chair and now it was his turn to stare at the fire.
"Well, your momma collected all those clippings from the A-Team's various deeds around the country. I think she was probably their biggest fan..." he chuckled. "... it only makes sense that she would have found some kind of address for where to get in touch with them. In fact, I'm sure she would have hired them herself!"
We laughed together. It felt good to be back home in the old house, and to talk about Mom.
"I wonder why she never tried to hire them, to find Dad," I suddenly realized, becoming serious again. "Why only now did I get the address to Mr. Lee's Laundry?"
My grandfather shifted in his chair uncharacteristically, putting my focus on him in confusion.
"What is it, Grandpa? Is there something you haven't told me?"
I caught his eye briefly as he sighed before answering me.
"Well, your mother did plan on hiring them to find your dad, but she was so wrapped up in her life here and raising you that... she just couldn't justify herself taking off across the country to try and find them. And... well, to be honest, I sort of talked her out of it also."
"Grandpa!"
"You know how I feel about those outlaws, and I was no different back then either. To be honest, I don't think I completely changed her mind about hiring them, just delayed her doing it. She mentioned once about you and her together going to L.A. to search for them, once you were older."
"Really?" I would have loved that so much, hiring the A-Team together and finding Dad... TOGETHER.
"Yeah," he said huskily, probably noticing the tear that threatened to spill over from one of the my eyes.
We shared a moment of silence, remembering Mom and missing her presence, and then I glanced towards the clock, seeing how late it was.
"I need to go to bed. I have to meet them early."
I wiped across my eyes with the back of a hand before standing from my chair. I was about to lean over to hug Grandpa goodnight when his voice stopped me.
"Wait... You... can have them over here in the morning."
Did I hear that right?
He looked away from me, keeping his eyes on the flames, then continued.
"I never approved of your mother's infatuation with those outlaws, but if they are the best lead to find your dad well... that's okay with me. I'll allow them in the house."
I jumped over Trigger, who had laid on the floor between us, launching myself at Grandpa to throw a hug around his neck. His chuckle muffled into my hair as I sqeezed him tight.
"Thank you Grandpa!"
Thinking of something, I suddenly pulled away, one eyebrow raised at the old man.
"You won't call the military police on them, will you?"
He scowled at me, giving me a "really?" look, causing me to grin wide.
"Thanks, Grandpa. It means a lot to me."
"You're welcome. Now get off to bed. Long day tomorrow."
I pecked his cheek goodnight, then I trudged upstairs to my bedroom, Trigger following behind me. I felt too tired to brush my teeth, but my mother's voice inside my head was one I couldn't refuse, so after begrudgingly completing the task, I flopped onto my bed without putting pajamas on. My tired eyes meandered around my bedroom, thankful to be back in it after my adventure to L.A.. Mom had found my matching white bedroom set at a garage sale when I was young, and did her best to make my room look 'girly', without being overwhelming. The wallpaper was a simple beige and white striped pattern, my curtains solid beige with white lacey overlay. The well worn carpet used to be a vibrant green color at one point, but now was sort of dull. It used to be my mother's room as a child, and lime green carpet was what she had wanted. The top of my desk was was pretty clean, holding my diary, Mom's notebook that she wrote songs and random thoughts in, and some pens. I had inherited my mother's sense of order and tidyness, and it showed in my bedroom with everything clean and in order. How I dressed myself was really the only way I wasn't organized, usually donning my favorite jeans and a slightly wrinkled tshirt underneath Dad's old army jacket. Mom used to say I got that messy streak from my father, since she herself was always dressed neat and hair done up nice.
I stroked my dog's head mindlessly, comforted by the warm furry body curled up against me, sort of like when Mom and I would have a sleepover in her room... All of a sudden I realized tears were streaming down my cheeks, trickling into my ears. I wiped them away but they flowed faster than I could stop them, so I turned over in bed and buried my face in Trigger's side. He turned his head to press it against me, a dog's form of a hug, and wagged his tail slightly.
I want my mother back!
I screamed inside, knowing it was a hopeless wish but thinking it anyway. At some point tiredness overtook my tears, my tense body slowly relaxed and I drifted off to sleep.