Among the Shrouded (8 page)

“Would you like to come to dinner sometime?  To my house?”

She hesitated.  Her heart compelled her to accept, but her experience as an officer made her cautious of the stranger beside her.  She wished silently that she was able to see his aura and confirm her intuitions.  However, she could not.

“Thomas, you know, that would be great.  But…”  As she said the words, she watched
his face fall.  Unable to cause him any pain, she continued, “but, I may be working a few night shifts over the next week.  So, can we meet for lunch again?”

A smile spread across
his face.  “Lunch, huh?”

“Yeah, lunch.  Is that okay?”

“Of course,” he laughed.  “Lunch is good.  How about a picnic?  In the park.”

“That sounds wonderful!
”

“
When are you free?” he asked.

“I’m free tomorrow.”

“Then so am I,” he said smiling.

They stoo
d together outside the back entrance of the police station.

“So, how about if I meet you right here, tomorrow, at noon?”
he asked.

“I’ll see you then,”
she replied.  And with that, she returned to an afternoon of difficult assignments which were made far easier by the prospect of lunch with Thomas the following afternoon.

CHAPTER
13

KATE

It was late.  Kate slipped her key into the lock and turned.  To her surprise, the deadbolt did not disengage.  In fact, it had not yet been set for the night.  She returned her key to her pocket and opened the door to the apartment, allowing it to swing slowly into the room.  The dim light of the pendant hanging above the kitchen table flooded the exterior hallway.  She walked inside.

“Where have you been
, Yekaterina?” her father asked in a low, authoritative tone.

She glanced around the room, unsure about what had transpired while she had been gone.  Her sisters were seated side by side on the living room sofa and her mother joined her father at the kitchen table.  She made eye contact with Natalya in an attempt to understand what had been shared with her parents, but Natalya averted her gaze and began picking on a loose thread pulling from the sofa cushion.

“Your sisters are terrible liars,” her father declared.

Once again,
she had gotten herself into trouble with her father.  It was a place she was quite used to being and a place she was quite used to getting herself out of as well.  She quickly decided she would need to be honest with him if she had any hope of salvaging her plan.  She closed her eyes and willed him to be understanding about what she was about to say.

“Papa,” she
began, “do not be angry with the others.  They had nothing to do with this.  It was all my idea.”

“Where have you been?  I will not ask you again.”

“I have been offered a job,” she replied.

Both of her sisters perked up and the light returned to their eyes.

“What sort of a job?” her father asked.

“A very good, very high paying job.  I will make enough money to finish putting myself through school in only six months!”

Her father remained skeptical and his eyes bored through her, but she could see from the expression on her mother’s face she was softening.

“Go on,” said her father.

“There was a flyer, in the student union, and I responded.  Tonight, I went to a seminar regarding the logistics of the arrangement.  I was offered the position.”

“And what are the ‘logistics of the arrangement?’” her father asked s
uspiciously.

“The job is not here,” she
replied.

“Not here in Kiev?  We cannot a
fford another apartment,” her mother said.

“No, not here in Ki
ev, but my housing will be provided.  As will my transportation there and back.”

“What sort of transportation?” asked her father.

“Airfare.”

“Airfare!” her mother exclaimed.  “Where are you planning on going?”

“The United States,” she replied.

A sil
ence fell over the family.  She felt the bones in her legs beginning to soften and she wondered whether they would continue to support her as she waited for a response from her father.  The seconds ticked past.  She concentrated on her breathing.  Slowly, in and out.  She focused her energy on getting what she wanted while she stared at her fancy shoes that pinched and rubbed her toes.  She dreamed of the moment when she would be allowed to remove them.  And then her father spoke.

“When will you leave?” he asked.

CHAPTER

14

T
HOMAS

Thomas had lied to Mia.  When she had suggested meeting for lunch instead of dinner, he knew he wasn’t free the following afternoon.  He was scheduled to work at Belinda’s Bistro all day.  But in that moment, waiting more than twenty-four hours to see her again had seemed like far too long.  At the same time, he knew she had declined meeting him for dinner because she was wary of him.  She was smart and had been trained well.  He found he liked that about her.  And so, as the sun crept over the horizon the next morning, he was faced with a dilemma.

In addition to being scheduled to work,
he was also extremely short on cash.  After buying both of their lunches the day before, he didn’t have nearly enough money to purchase food for the picnic he had promised.  In fact, he had only $4.18 in his pocket.   He knew it was time to get creative.

In order to save what little cash he had,
he decided to take a different route to work which required him to walk almost a mile between two of the bus stops along the way.  It was an area he avoided most days due to the gang related violence that often broke out.  He kept a brisk pace, holding his backpack tightly with both hands and keeping his head down. 

In addition to the nagging anxiety that
accompanied the danger in his life, he had always felt as though he was being protected in some way, as if he was shielded from peril by some unseen force.  He knew it had kept him safe over the years.  The bus stop came into view and he breathed a sigh of relief.  When the gun fire broke out behind him as the bus pulled up to the curb, he knew this particular morning his gift had protected him once again.

Despite the extended route, h
e arrived early to work and was waiting outside the back delivery entrance when Belinda herself showed up with the key.  She was a handsome woman.  In her mid-fifties, with a head of tight grey curls, Belinda was a baker by trade, but had managed to expand her tiny breakfast bakery into a café that served both breakfast and lunch to its lucky patrons.  She had hired him as a bus boy when he was eighteen on the recommendation of her sister, who was, at the time, his high school English teacher.  Belinda had offered him promotions into the kitchen or as a part of the wait staff on countless occasions, but he had always refused, content with his position cleaning and resetting tables.

“Morning
, Thomas,” she said with a smile.

“Good morning, Belinda!” he replied.

“Up with the birds this morning, are you?” she laughed.

“Yes
, Ma’am.  I’ve got a big day ahead of me!”

“Oh?” she said, leading him into the kitchen.

“I actually have a date,” he disclosed.

“Anybody I know?” she asked as she disarmed the burglar alarm and turned on the lights.

“Probably not personally, but she’s been to the bistro before.  She’s a police officer.  Her name is Mia.”

“Oh!” Belinda replied.  “That’s exciting!”

“It is,” he said, “but I am having a bit of a crisis.”

“Can I help?”
she asked.

“That’s kind of why I’m here
.”

He
explained his double booking for the lunch hour and his lack of funding to supply food for the picnic.

“I feel awful asking, but I know it usually just gets thrown out anyway.  And I’m happy to come back right after lunch and do the full cleaning for tomorrow,”
he explained.

Belinda thought for a moment.  “Thomas, I appreciate your resourcefulness, but I will not have you taking yesterday’s leftovers on your date this afternoon.  I can do better than that.  How about if I whip up an extra portion of quiche and muffins and you can take them fresh?”

“Belinda, I can’t pay for those.  I’m happy to take whatever is going to get tossed, really.”

“You are not going to pay for it
, Thomas.  It’s a gift and it’s the least I can do.  I want to do this and I will not be talked out of it.  As far as finishing your shift this afternoon, I think you’ve put in plenty of overtime over the past six years that you’ve earned a couple hours of paid leave.”

“But Belinda, I can’t ask you to do that…”

“You didn’t ask.  It’s a vacation.  You’ve earned it.”

He
sighed and resigned himself to taking charity from the kindness of others.  It was something he had grown accustomed to over the course of his life, but it didn’t mean he liked having to do it.

“I’ll make this up to you,” he promised.

“I’m sure you will,” she replied.

Belinda tied her apron around her waist and opened the walk-in refrigerator in search of ingredients for the items on the day’s menu.

“Can I help you?” he asked, peeking into the refrigerator.  “At least that way I will be able to tell her I made our lunch, even if I leave out that I didn’t do it on my own.”

“Pick up an apron, Loverboy,” Belinda said, handing him several crates of eggs.  “It’s going to be a fun morning!”

Together, they baked seven varieties of muffins, four types of scones, six trays of quiche, and sliced enough fruit to feed a small army.  As the rest of the kitchen staff arrived, he was relegated back to the dining area, preparing place settings and sweeping the floors.  Belinda approached him as he was placing water goblets on each of the tables.

“Thanks for your help this morning,” she said, handing him a large paper bag.

“No, thank you,” he replied.  “What’s this?”

“It’s your picnic lunch.  I’ve packed it all up for you.  And I’m also sending you home.”

“Home?  Why?” he asked.

“Well, I’ve got
John coming in to bus and I just don’t need the both of you here today.  So take your lunch and head on home.  Get fancied up for your big date this afternoon.  I’ll see you tomorrow and you can tell me all about it then.”

“Really?”
he asked.

“Really
.”

He
stood up from the bistro table and took the bag from her hands.  He bent down over her squatty frame to give her a squeeze.

“Thanks
, Belinda,” he said.

“Get outta here,” she replied, giving him a gentle shove.

He took off his apron and clocked out.  Carrying the bag of food in his arms, he gave Belinda a nod as he left through the back door.  The bag seemed especially heavy for just two slices of quiche and a couple of muffins and he was curious about what else she had placed inside. 

When he arrived home, the house was empty.  It was
Friday and his mother was working at the senior center across town.  He sat at the kitchen table and emptied the contents of the bag.  There was an entire quiche, four muffins, two scones, a large container of fruit and a bottle of wine.  He read the label.  It was the most expensive vintage Belinda’s served, worth well over fifty dollars.  Next to the wine, wrapped in linen napkins, were two wine glasses.  He was immediately torn between being grateful for her generosity or resentful for the fact there was no way he was ever going to be able to repay her.  He shook his head and repacked the picnic lunch carefully back into the bag.

He had planned on
wearing his work uniform on his date with Mia since he assumed there would be no time to change.  However, now that he was in possession of a fifty dollar bottle of wine, he decided he should probably change out of his uniform and into something more appropriate.

After trying on the entire contents of his closet, which amounted to several pa
irs of jeans and a handful of shirts, he finally decided to wear his darkest wash jeans with his vintage Woodstock t-shirt he had happened upon at an outdoor flea market over the summer.  He threw on his only coat, a leather jacket given to him by Howard and Mildred on his sixteenth birthday, picked up the picnic bag, and headed out the door to the police station.