Nicole had a big day planned.  She’d expected to be in the kitchen all day, but Mike had called the day before to ask her if she wanted to hang out with him for the day in Norfolk.  He was covering the Independence Day Celebration at the waterfront and would be there all day.  He only had a few segments, but the rest of the day he would be just walking around enjoying the event. 

He’d pitched the idea to the production team to have her, as one of their “fan-favorite” on-air chefs, taste a bunch of the food and talk about the event as a “foodie”.  They bought the idea and he just needed her to agree. 

She had a bunch of catering jobs that had to be ready.  Luckily, none of the ones they had going on were full-on with service and everything.  They were pick-up or delivery orders that were pretty easy.  And she had plenty of help.  Patti Gonzales, Erica’s mom, was coming in to help, as was Sherry and even her mother.  Nicole was supposed to be in Norfolk at noon. 

At eleven o’clock she figured out that wasn’t going to happen.  An oven in the shop had quit.  She called Bobby Gomez to see if he could fix it.  That was ten-thirty.  He got it fixed, but the back-up of orders was killing her.  Because of the terrible traffic in the tunnel, it was going to take two hours to get to Norfolk.  Everything was working again, but she wouldn’t be there until at least one. 

“Nic, I can fix this,” Bobby had said. 

“How?” 

“Don’t worry about it.  You’ll be at the waterfront at noon.  Call your boyfriend back up and tell him you’ll be there on time.  Don’t argue with me.”

“Madi, can you talk sense into your man?” Nicole said, exasperated. 

“No, but I also know he’s never told me he could do something when he didn’t have a plan,” Madison Gomez replied.  “Trust him.”

Nicole relented and called Mike’s cellular number back and told him that she would be there.  She said she didn’t know how, but that a friend was arranging transport.  She assumed it would be by boat, but even that would be tight at this point. 

Bobby walked into Nicole’s office, “Do you have everything you need ready to go?”

“I’m ready.  Do we need to head out?”

“Patience, Grasshopper,” Bobby replied. 

A few minutes later she figured it out.  Maybe not as much figured it out as much as saw it.  Duke Smythe’s helicopter landed in the parking lot.

Duke casually walked across the parking lot to the building and walked in the door.  “Hey Nicole.  We probably should be on our way.  I don’t have permission to land here,” he joked with a smile.  He turned and casually headed back out, after picking up a couple of cookies from the counter.  Nicole was on his heels. 

***

Mike Holland was reporting from the Norfolk waterfront when a helicopter swept straight in from Indian River.  It wasn’t police or news, but it was interrupting his broadcast.  He asked to send the live feed to the studio while it landed. 

As he turned to look at the chopper, Nicole Dixon stepped out of the front seat.  She took off her headset, set it on the seat, grabbed a duffle bag, closed the door and walked straight toward him.  His cameraman shot the whole thing.

The production team never stopped Mike’s feed, so live over the air he said, “Damn, my girlfriend knows how to make an entrance.”

“No doubt,” he heard over his earpiece.

He was still looking at Nicole walking toward him when the chopper lifted off behind her and accelerated back to the north again.  Nobody stopped her as she walked right up to him.  She didn’t know he was live. 

“Hi Mike,” Nicole said, very relaxed. 

“Whose chopper?” Mike said.

“A friend.  He wanted some cookies, so we I traded for a ride,” Nicole laughed, with no idea that she was live in a couple hundred thousand homes. 

“Mike, you’re still live,” he heard in his earpiece. 

“Folks, her cookies are THAT good,” Mike said, recovering and looking at the camera. 

“We’re live?” Nicole said, looking at Mike, bordering on horrified at how that must have come across on TV. 

Mike just started laughing.  “That’s live TV, folks.  Back to you in the studio, Sandy… and we’re out.”

“Thanks for warning me Mike,” Nicole said, giggling.  “I look like an idiot now.”

“You?  I look like an idiot.  You look like the coolest chick in Hampton Roads.”  Then they both started laughing. 

“I gotta say, Nicole, Mike,” the cameraman started, “first, Nicole, your cookies ARE that good, and second, that was priceless.  That’s getting played at the station Christmas Party.”  Then he started laughing, too. 

After a minute, Tim, the cameraman, gathered his composure and started working up a plan for them to move around the celebration.  There were a lot of food vendors, a few with some unusual foods, and lots of people.  They were now expected to have a segment every fifteen minutes or so all afternoon, until the fireworks, except during the 4:45 to 7:00 slots which were regional and national news.  In addition to Mike, Nicole and Tim, they had a production assistant, a make-up person and an intern. 

“Timo is here with a booth, Nicole.  Should we hit him up?” Mike asked. 

“Yes, but I have to tell you something…  I might have a conflict of interest.  I’m a minor investor in his restaurant.  I’d hate to have anyone complain that we promoted him out of my financial interest.”

“Really?  When did that happen?” Mike asked. 

“Before he opened.  I hadn’t been there before, but that might be part of the reason he was so excited to see me.  It’s kind of on the downlow, though.  Only a few people know.”

“Ok.  Well, as long as you don’t trash all the competition, it should be ok,” Mike smiled.

***

Timo’s was their third stop.  Nicole had found the best menu items from each of the booths they visited.  She interviewed head chefs when they were available, and with the intern running ahead and giving a heads up, most of them were available during the course of the afternoon.  A couple, aside from Timo, joked about being in school with her. 

They sampled everything from Lobster Bisque to funnel cakes.  Nicole kept a running count of food on-a-stick and hit twenty-one different things “on-a-stick”.  Mike was comparing it to a State Fair in the Midwest.  By the time their dinner break rolled around, none of the six were hungry.  Nicole had spread the food around, dragging the Production Assistant, the intern, the make-up artist, and even the cameraman in front of the camera. 

“Folks,” Mike began, “standing next to me is Tim.  He’s been my main cameraman for the last six months.  If the camera is not quite as steady as it normally is, it’s because Nicole Dixon has all forty pounds of it on her shoulder and is the one doing the filming.”

“She insisted that I get to eat on camera,” Tim said nervously.  Then he took a bite of the corndog and extolled its virtues to the viewing audience.  “Hey, this is a beer-battered corndog.  I wasn’t expecting that.  It’s awesome.”  Then Tim did an interview with the owner of the booth while Mike looked on. 

Tim took the camera back and the team headed back to the remote van to drop their gear and head out to dinner, although none of them could possibly eat after their afternoon “grazing” as Tim called it.  They still went into a nearby restaurant and sat at a table for a little while and chatted while picking at an appetizer and enjoying some cold beverages. 

***

Just before the fireworks went off at 9:15, they did their last remote shot of the day.  After wrapping up, the six of them joked around for a few minutes, and signed a few autographs.  Mike was used to the autograph sessions.  Nicole was shocked the first time a kid came up and asked her for her autograph but got used to it.  Tim was the biggest surprise.  Several people came straight up to him and wanted a “Tim the Cameraman” autograph, and that was exactly what he gave them. 

After the drive back to the studio to drop the truck, Mike drove Nicole back to her shop.  She gave him a quick tour as the last of the delivery crews returned with their equipment.  He was suitably impressed with the production kitchen.  Then they had a goodnight kiss and she returned home, exhausted from a long day. 

It was only about ninety miles from Oscoda to Onaway by air… but he wasn’t flying.  He’d toyed with the idea of finding someone to drop him from a plane and parachuting home but rejected the idea.  It was a fun thought, though.  Instead, he tried to hitch a ride on a plane up to Alpena, but couldn’t find a way there, either.  At noon he ended up on the road outside the base with a pack on his back, wearing his uniform and holding his thumb out. 

His first ride was from a guy about his age that was driving from Oscoda west, over to Mio.  It wasn’t exactly the way he planned on going, but it was in the general direction, and would put him on M-33, which went right into Onaway.  They spent a little while talking as they rode together.  Bill found out that the guy was a fisherman on a boat in Oscoda but had grown up in Mio.  The fisherman had been excited to hear that Bill had gone through paratrooper training and asked what it was like to jump out of an airplane. 

In Mio, he stopped into a place called the Kountry Kitchen for lunch.  Finding out that he was active duty, the owner, a World War Two vet, wouldn’t let him pay for his meal.  And it was really good chicken noodle soup, too.  The staff had been exceedingly friendly toward him.  After the soup, he had a slice of apple pie and then hit the road with his sign looking for a ride to Onaway. 

His next ride of the day came from a beer truck.  They joked about cracking open a couple of cold ones from the back while they drove up to Atlanta… and Bill joked that he’d gone the wrong way, since that morning he’d started out in Georgia, not that far from another Atlanta.  But his ride ended when they got to Atlanta, Michigan.  The driver had deliveries to make and then he was headed to Alpena, which was now the wrong way. 

After getting an ice cream cone in Atlanta at a little stand along the road, and buying one for his beer truck driving friend, he set out north again on M-33 with his sign in hand. 

As he hiked along the country road north of Atlanta, he enjoyed the surrounding forest, occasionally interrupted by a house.  He’d been walking quite a while when he passed by the Montmorency County Fairgrounds.  He’d barely seen any cars, and he was wondering if he was going to be walking the rest of the way to Onaway. 

Just after the fairgrounds, a new looking 1960 Impala convertible rolled to a stop just ahead.  The woman in the driver’s seat waved him over.  He jogged along with the big bag on his back to catch up to where the car had stopped. 

“Where ya headed, Soldier?” she asked.

“Onaway, ma’am.”

“Hop in and let’s get you there.”

He tossed his bag in the back seat and hopped in the front.  The top was down, and it was a beautiful day.  He took off his beret so it wouldn’t blow away in the wind and sat back for the ride.  It was probably only another fifteen miles but riding in the nice car with a pretty woman sure beat walking. 

“What’s your name, Soldier?” she asked.

“Corporal Bill Prince, ma’am.”

“Nice to meet you, Bill.  I’m Betty.”

“Thank you for the ride, ma’am.”

“Please, call me Betty… every time you say ma’am, I age five years.”

“Ok, Betty.  Sorry… It’s a habit.”

“It’s ok, Bill.  So, what takes you to Onaway?”

“I have leave for a few weeks and I’m going to visit family and my girl.”

Betty pouted a little at him, then laughed, “That’s nice.  Too bad you already have a girl; I would have liked a shot.  But that’s ok.”  She gave him a quick wink as she looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Sorry, Betty,” Bill said with a smile.  “What about you, where are you headed?”

“I’m meeting some girlfriends at Black Lake.  We have a cottage for the week.”

“Sounds like fun.  Where are you staying, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Bloom’s.  Have you heard of them?”

“Absolutely, Wes and Mary Bloom are great folks.  I’ve known them for half my life.”

“So, you know where it is?”

“Sure… need directions?”

“Tell ya what.  Can you lead me there and then I’ll drive you back into town?”

“Yes, ma’am… I mean Betty.  I can do that.  I haven’t seen Wes and Mary for quite a while.  It’ll be nice to visit.”

“Fair enough.”

Betty and Bill drove the rest of the way to Black Lake, driving through Onaway.  When they got there, Betty was greeted by three other pretty women, all in their early twenties.  They had been busy getting settled into their cottage. 

As he and Betty pulled up, they streamed out and started giving her a hard time about bringing her own man… it was supposed to be a girl’s week.  She laughed and told them he’d been hitchhiking and that she couldn’t follow the directions they’d given her, but since he was a local, he’d offered to show her the way.  The other girls were joking that she had all the luck, finding a nice-looking guy discarded along the side of the road. 

Bill excused himself to go see Wes and Mary.  He’d last seen them before joining up in the Army.  A few days before he’d left, he had come out to close-up Nettie’s cottage next door, making sure everything was set for the winter.  While they were talking, he asked Wes if it had been opened yet.  He didn’t think it had, so he went over to check it out and take care of it if she hadn’t been up to the yet.  After about half an hour, Betty knocked on the door of Nettie’s cottage to see if he was ready to go. 

“Are you our neighbor, too?” she asked. 

“No,” he answered, smiling, “I took care of this place for a few years for the owner, and she hasn’t made it up so far this year, so I figured I’d just get everything ready for her.  She usually comes up for the fourth of July.”

“Too bad… again.  Are you ready to head into town, Bill?”

“Yes, ma’am.  Let’s go,” he said, earning a good-natured ribbing from Betty.

As he got ready to get into the car, the other girls decided to join.  He ended up in the back seat between two of the girls.  Not a bad place to be, but he hoped he didn’t run into Christina.  It would become a lot less comfortable then. 

As the car pulled up in front of his house in Onaway, his brother happened to be walking out the front door.  Bill waved to him. 

“Howdy, Walter!”

“Bill!  Is that you?”

“Oh my, they must grow good-looking fellas on trees up here,” one of the girls in the car said, laughing, as Betty pulled to a stop. 

Bill hopped out of the back seat and retrieved his bag from the trunk, where it had been stowed when the other girls had started piling in.  As he turned to thank Betty, she appeared behind him, shook his hand and thanked him for the directions.

“And Bill, we will have a bonfire every night until July ninth, unless it rains.  Why don’t you bring that girl of yours out to say hi?  I think a couple of my friends would like it if you brought your brother out, too.  You know where to find us.”

She blew Walter a kiss and stepped back into her car and drove away as the other girls waved. 

“What was that about, Bill?”

“Oh, nothing, she just invited you to go out for a bonfire.”

Bill started walking toward the door with his pack on his back.

“Don’t leave a fella hangin’, Bill?  Where at?  I’m game!”

His parents were excited to see him.  They hadn’t expected him.  Despite writing every week, he hadn’t mentioned that he had leave coming up.  He was peppered the with questions about how things were going and if he knew where he was to be posted yet, as well as how he’d managed to get there.  They spent a little while talking, but what he really wanted was to go see Christina. 

“She’s at work, Bill.  She gets off in about an hour,” Walter told him as he walked back in the door.

“Huh?” Bill replied.

“Christina.  I know that’s who you want to see.  I mean, you like the rest of us and all, but you didn’t do whatever to get halfway across the country to stare at me.  She’s at work for a little longer.”

“Mind if I take my car?”

“No problem… are you going to tell me where that bonfire is with all those pretty girls?”

“Bloom’s place.”

Walter laughed.  “I guess that’s ok.  I can’t do anything stupid, or Wes will kick my butt.  But at least I can go see how friendly they are.  Maybe I can borrow Dad’s car.”

“Good luck.  We might come out there later.  It depends on what Christina wants to do.”

Bill dropped his bag in his old room and headed out to the car.  As expected, the keys were dangling from the ignition switch in the dash.  The market was only a few minutes away.  He hadn’t known that Christina was working there but thought it might be fun to surprise her by showing up.  Before he went to the store, he stopped by Mrs. Whitmer’s house.  She ran the florist, and he thought he might be able to get some roses from her.   

Mrs. Whitmer was very accommodating.  Since she lived almost next door to her florist shop, he was able to run over and get the roses quickly.  Living in a small town where everyone knows each other has benefits.  She’d handed him the keys to her shop and told him to go grab a dozen, drop the keys back by and they could take care of payment on Monday. 

At five minutes to five, he walked in the front door of the grocery store.  The cashiers were off to his left, and Christina had her back to him, ringing up a customer’s purchase.  He was able to sneak around to her line without her seeing him. 

As she finished up the customer in front of him, she hadn’t even looked up at him.  She looked up to greet him and recognition immediately flooded her.  She was over the counter in a flash, her arms wrapping around his neck.  “Oh my goodness, Bill, I didn’t know you were coming.  When did you get here?  How long will you be here?” she said between kisses.

“Miss Griffen!” a manager said loudly walking toward them.

“Sorry, Mr. Pendergrass.  This is Bill, my boyfriend.  I haven’t seen him since he went back on New Year’s Day.  I’m sorry, I’ll bring my till to the office, I think my shift is over.”

Mr. Pendergrass, still not looking very happy, walked over to the couple as Christina moved back to the other side of the cashier station to close down her register.

“Sorry, Mr. Pendergrass.  I’m Bill Prince.  Sir, it’s my fault.  I didn’t tell Miss Griffen I was coming back into town.  I wanted to surprise her.  Please don’t hold my actions against her.”

“Well, I guess it’s ok, with you being in the service and all.  At least it’s closing time and it didn’t disrupt the store too much.  Perhaps next time you should warn her before you surprise her.”

“Yes, sir,” Bill said, wondering how it would work to warn her before surprising her.

A few minutes later Christina emerged from the office, her register having been counted and her timecard punched.  She ran back over to Bill to hug him again.  She knew that she’d missed him a lot over the last six months, but she hadn’t realized how much she missed him until she saw him again. 

“Any plans tonight, Chrissy?”

“Well, I had a date, but…  you know…” she said back jokingly. 

“Oh, well, never mind.  There are some girls out at the lake that invited me to a bonfire.” He joked back. 

“Don’t you dare!” she said to him.  “You’re mine.  Forever, mister.  Don’t you forget it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s better.  Now what are we going to do?”

“Well, I’m famished.  Can I take you to dinner?”

“I guess, Mr. Prince.  Can you drive me home to change, or might you pass out soon?”

“I guess we can swing by your house.”

They walked out to the parking lot and hopped into the Model A to drive to Tower.  Chrissy wanted to hear all about Bill’s school and everything else in his life.  Even though he’d written almost every day, and told her all those things in letters, she wanted to hear him talk about his adventures, challenges and triumphs. 

Her parents were glad to see him and greeted him warmly when Christina brought him into the house.  Her mother made a fuss over him and made him a quick snack while he waited for Chrissy to get dressed to head out for dinner. 

Chrissy still had to work, but aside from that she spent almost every moment she could with Bill over the next couple of weeks.  On one of the nights, they actually did go out to Bloom’s Cabins for the bonfire with the girls.  Chrissy had been a little nervous about doing that, but Bill had told her that the girls were friendly, and she’d like them. 

One of the things that happened when she was at the bonfire was her conversation with Betty.  Betty had told her that she had netted quite the man.  He had told her all about Christina as they drove from Atlanta up to the lake.  And he’d been nothing but a gentleman.  He was the kind of guy that they were all looking for.

Another surprising thing that happened was that Bill ended up in the parade on the Independence Day.  They had a spot open on the Veterans Float and asked him to take the spot.  Chrissy was to be the local Beauty Queen that was to sit next to him.  She was actually supposed to sit next to someone else but convinced the other girl to swap. 

A cousin of mine called over the weekend to talk to me about how she should go about publishing her book. (Quick shout out.. you know who you are, and I won’t out you… but when you publish it, I’ll gladly give you some promotion on my blog, FB page and everywhere else I can! Family, right?) And the above mentioned things were all part of the conversation.

Many would-be authors type out that “The End” and then think it’s the end. Not even close. It’s barely the beginning.

There is editing.

It would be cool if there was just one kind of editing. Instead, there are three. To be fair, one of them might have been done before “The End”… that would be developmental editing. Does this idea suck? That is the first hurdle to clear. You might have a chapter, an outline and a written story idea. You have the developmental editor go over your plan with you and tell you if it is marketable. Sometimes, especially with newer writers, we don’t do that until we have a book. Or we don’t do it at all…

Then there is story editing. Does the plot make sense? Are there plot holes? Do we need to rearrange the story? Do the character progressions and story arcs work? There is a LOT there, and paying for a professional to do this is EXPENSIVE. The editor is going to know your book and your characters better than you when they are done. That time and energy, not to mention expertise, isn’t free. But it can be immensely valuable.

Finally, there is line editing. This is the one we all think of. Grammar, spelling, typos. Those need to be squashed like bugs. And, I don’t care WHO you are, they are in your manuscript. Even famous writers with a platoon of editors will release books with mistakes in them. But we have to fight them as hard as possible. All this happened after you wrote the book… and let me tell you, going through your book, over and over, looking for a better way to say something, making sure you didn’t screw up, and that everything makes sense… while staying true to your vision… that is hard. Possibly harder than writing the book in the first place.

Might squeeze a few beta reads in there, too… taking the feedback and using to edit the story.

(just a note, I have found and corrected about 50 mistakes in line as I worked… There will be more later).

And Formatting… If you self publish.

If you hire a publisher, they may (repeat… may) do this part for you. However, in order to get a publisher, you had to format a manuscript to submit, so you still aren’t off the hook. Font, spacing, margins, chapter breaks, page mapping. Whether the book is being read on a phone, tablet, computer, or paper, all of those things have to be considered. And checked. And probably corrected. You can’t control everything. But you have to control everything you can. And make it perfect so someone doesn’t trash you in a review.

And make the cover art fit. And work. And show up when scanning through the stacks at the store or the listings on the online portal.

Just when you thought you were done, here come all of the details that have to be squared away prior to publishing. And it is tough. Or expensive. Or both. And frustrating.

Good grief, I’m glad I’m done… But wait, there’s more.

Marketing.

You did all this work, selling a book or three might be really cool, right? Well, guess what… that is harder than writing the book.

If you happen to be a famous author, the publisher will do this for you. Not out of the goodness of their heart, but you won’t feel it as the cash is slipped out of your voluminous royalty checks. For the rest of us, we are either cutting checks every month, or working our butts off trying to get our title in front of prospective readers. Probably both.

Even giving away books can get expensive. I haven’t used any of the REALLY effective paths, yet. I can’t afford them. I generally spend about $50 to give away books. Some of the bigger name lists cost 5x=15x that. Yeah… $3000 fees to GIVE AWAY FREE books. I can’t justify that. Maybe one day. I won’t get into WHY authors give away books beyond saying that it is part of marketing, and as an Indie Author, I am my marketing department. I can do it myself or pay someone to do it.

None of it is cheap or easy. It isn’t even easy if you just pay someone. Some authors pay someone to pay someone to do that job. You know it has to suck if you want to pay for a level of people to insulate you from even knowing about it.

Yeah, I thought the hard part was writing the book. It should all be coasting after that… making loads of money from my brilliant writing. But, alas, reality disagreed. The real work started after the book was “done.” I found the diamond, but then had to cut it, polish it and then sell it… over and over.

And then there are Reviews.

Talk about chapping my hide.

The BEST marketing is a solid set of reviews. Lot of them. I have given away a couple THOUSAND copies of Planning Vengeance. I have 14 reviews. So, I am running about a 1:200 ratio. I would love to have 50 reviews on that book. That would pull in the readers MUCH more effectively.

I don’t have that many reviews on the rest of my books, though. (blatant plug: PLEASE review my books if you’ve read them!) So I also have to set aside time to hunt for reviews. But, to me at least, it beats paying for questionable reviews. I’d rather an honest three or four-star (especially four) over a BS five-star. Readers can see through those, and I think they just annoy readers. I WANT five-star reviews, but I want to earn them, not pay for them.

Anyway…

his old man off the side in a storm off the Outer Banks, he still felt that the boat was a tribute to him. 

As he sat there at the helm, he noticed someone walking toward his boat.  He couldn’t place him, but he knew he’d met the man at some point in the past. 

“Sean Murphy,” Ed Dixon shouted.  “Permission to come aboard?”

“Who am I talking to?”

“Ed Dixon.  We need to talk about Paul.”

“You a cop or somethin’?  Should I be callin’ my lawyer?”

“Definitely not a cop, Sean.  And I don’t think you want your lawyer to hear anything I have to say.  You probably don’t want me shouting it from here, either.  So… can I come aboard?”

“Suit yourself, Ed Dixon.”

Ed walked the short gangplank onto the trawler, then went forward toward the pilothouse and Sean, waiting just outside it.  As he approached, he put his hand out to shake.  Sean looked down at the outstretched hand and turned away to walk into the pilothouse and have a seat.  Ed followed.

“So, Ed, what’s on yer mind?” 

“Your son Paul is harassing my son and his girlfriend.  Maybe you remember her, Amy Prince.  I think it would be in your best interest to help us put an end to that. In fact, he’s spent the last couple of days following them around.  And of course, you are familiar with him getting locked up for trespassing at the Prince’s house before your last run.”

“What makes you think that I can do anything about it, Ed?” Sean said with a sarcastic tone.  “The boy is big enough to make his own decisions.  And from what I hear, that Amy girl was carryin’ on behind his back with your boy.  Seems to me like there might be a little lesson owed.  Maybe if they weren’t actin’ the fool, they wouldn’t have a problem now.” 

The conversation wasn’t going the way Ed wanted. 

“Sean, I’m going to level with you.  I’m going to make it in YOUR best interest to put your son on another track.  The very last thing that you want is increased attention on you or your business.  And if Paul doesn’t alter his course, you ARE going to find yourself under a microscope. 

“Now my son and his girlfriend have no idea that I’m here to talk to you.  In fact, they are going to talk to Paul to see if he will lay off.  But I’m here to tell you that right now you don’t want to make me an enemy.  And you don’t want your son to do that either.  So… what do you say?  Can we reach an accord here?”

“That sounds awful threatnin’, Ed.  And I’m not one to knuckle under to threats.”

Sean got up from his chair, and continued, “So, what’s to stop me from beating the hell outta you where you stand?  Or hell, maybe even draggin’ your body down to the hold and tossin’ you over on the next run in a couple of days?”

“There are a couple of things, Sean.  First, if you swing on me, you might be in the hospital for that next run.  Second, if you grab your binoculars and take a look over to the top of that warehouse across the way, you’ll see a light glint.  That would be a friend of mine.  And he CAN hit you, through the glass, from there.  If you don’t believe me, step out of the pilothouse and wave.  He’ll wave back.  As far as whether he can hit you from there or not… trust me.  I watched him make tougher shots in Vietnam.  Regularly. 

“I know that some of the people you work for are pretty tough.  Let’s just say that they don’t want me as an enemy, either.  And if I bring heat, the people you’ve been working for will turn on you in a heartbeat.  The next step is up to you.  We can have an agreement, shake hands like men, and both walk away… or we can get in a piss-match. 

“What do you want to do?”

Sean glared over at Ed for a few moments.  He was not liking this one bit.  He wondered exactly what information this guy had and what resources he could bear.  He was really struggling internally.  He wanted to take a swing at him… he wasn’t too worried about the sniper, even if he could make the shot… what really worried him was if this guy really knew what he was up to with his boat.

“Seems I don’t have much choice, Ed.  I guess we’ll hafta be friendly about it.”  Sean reached out his hand and shook Ed’s. 

“I look forward to not having to have another conversation like this again,” Ed said with a smile. 

“Me, too,” Sean replied flatly.

Ed turned and walked out of the pilothouse and off the boat.  As he walked up the quay, he put his cuff near his mouth and asked the person at the other end of the radio, “You hear all that?  Seems like he’d rather play nice.” 

As Ed rounded the corner of a warehouse, and out of sight of the F/V Murphy’s Law, Gunny crawled backwards off the roof of the warehouse he had been perched on.  His M40A1 with its 10x Unertl scope was supposed to be accurate to 800 meters, but he’d made successful shots at 1000 meters and more.  He bundled the rifle back into the hard case he kept it in and hopped into the back of the van Ed was driving as he came around the corner to pick him up. 

“I don’t know if you scared him or pissed him off, Ed.  Do you think he’s going to play nice?” Gunny asked.

“My gut tells me he’ll play nice with us, but he’s the wild card type.  I hate dealing with that type in the field.  I’m pretty sure he is motivated by greed and self-preservation, but the issue is that desire for revenge might overcome common sense.”

The two men rode in silence back to Ed’s office, aside from some small talk. 

“Ed, you know that if you need anything you can give me a call.”

“Absolutely, Gunny.  I’m not too proud to call in the Marines.”

Gunny laughed and climbed into his truck and headed home.  He and Ed had a worked together a number of times and he knew that Ed always protected his team.  If there was going to be any blowback, Gunny had no doubt that his name wouldn’t get dragged into it.  However, even if it did, he really liked Jack and would do whatever it took to make sure the young man was safe. 

“Are they gone?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah.  They should be out until midnight or so.  Wanna come in?” she said, leaning into him for a kiss. 

It had been a couple of months since the break-up with Nicole Dixon.  Nick had briefly dated a couple of girls, the most recent being his second favorite skate-dancing partner, much to the consternation of his favorite partner, but he still felt like Kat was too young for him.

“Sure… but what about your brother and Kat?” Nick asked. 

“Tim is in his room watching TV and Kat said she’d give us some privacy.”

Nick stood up and then pulled Heather to her feet so he could give her a proper kiss.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and melted into him, enthusiastically returning his kiss.  As they broke apart, she slipped through the door to make sure the coast was clear, then ushered him to her bedroom on the second floor, across the hall from the top of the stairs. 

As he walked into the room, he saw Kat sitting on the bed, hugging her knees. 

“Hey, Nick.  I thought you had to work tonight?” she said, her eyes betraying the smile on her lips. 

“It was really slow, so Junior told me I could cut out for a couple of hours.  I have to be back at eleven.”

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone, then.  I’m gonna go watch TV with Tim.  Ok?”  She winked at Heather and blew a teasing kiss at Nick, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do…”

Kat sashayed out of the room and walked down the hall to Tim’s room and knocked on the door.  Nick and Heather could hear her telling Tim she was bored of listening to her friend talking on the phone with her boyfriend. 

Heather closed the door and then pushed Nick back on the bed.  “Where did we leave off outside?” she said with a twinkle in her eye.  She dropped on top of him then rolled over to her side, pulling him close. 

***

Kat burst through the door.  “They’re back,” she hissed.  “Your parents are home early.”  She quietly closed the door behind her.  As soon as she stopped moving, all three of them could hear the movement downstairs as Heather tried to figure out what to do.

Heather’s parents came through the door into the kitchen, talking loudly about how bad the wedding reception had been and how glad they were to have gotten out quickly.  A moment later Nick heard someone on the stairs. 

Heather, on the verge of panic, kept her cool and looked around her room.  She decided the closet was the best bet and pushed Nick toward it.  He was tucking in his shirt with one hand and trying to push some clothes out of the way with the other.  Heather was busy fixing her own clothes as she shut the door behind him, leaving him in darkness between her dresses and jackets. 

“What have you two been up to?” Heather’s mom said, opening the bedroom door. 

“I was watching TV with Tim, Mrs. Jackson.  Heather was on the phone with Nick until just a minute ago,” Kat said quickly. 

“Well, that’s not very nice, Heather.  Your friend came here to spend the night with you.  You shouldn’t ignore her all night,” Mrs. Jackson said. 

“I know, Mom, but Nick had a break and I wanted to talk with him.  It was only for a minute.”

“I understand, but spend time with your friend, huh?”

Nick sat in the closet listening, hoping Heather’s mom couldn’t hear his heart beating through his chest.  Or his breathing, which seemed to be getting louder with each breath. 

“You guys are home early, Mom.  Everything ok?” Heather asked nervously, changing the subject. 

Her mother rolled her eyes, “You know how much your dad hates wedding receptions… and this one was the worst.  The DJ was terrible.  The food wasn’t good, either.  Anyway, your father and I are in for the night, now.  We’ll be down in the living room watching TV if you need anything.  Oh, and Kat, we saw your mom.  She was the wedding photographer.  I’m sure her pictures will be the highlight of the wedding… it sure won’t be the DJ.”

She backed out of the room and closed the door behind her.  The two girls looked at each other and had to work hard to hold back the nervous laughter.  Heather watched the door for a moment before turning back to the closet and Nick. 

“I’m gonna need a phone.  I have to call Junior at the rink and tell him I won’t be back on time,” he said when she opened the door.  “And I’m going to need to visit the bathroom before long, too.” 

“I’ll work on getting a phone, first.  Stay right there.”  She kissed him again, then smiled before turning away, giggling a little to herself.

Heather closed the door most of the way and left her bedroom.  Her brother had a long cord for his phone, so she needed to borrow it.  Nick would have to stay in the closet to talk to his boss or her parents might hear him. 

Kat slipped over to the closet door and plopped down in front of Nick, “Quite a pickle you’ve gotten yourself into this time.”

Heather came back into the room and plugged the longer phone cord in.  She handed Nick the phone and he dialed his boss’s number at the skating rink. 

“This is Nick, I need to speak to Junior,” he whispered as loudly as he dared. 

Heather squeezed in next to him so that she could hear both sides of the conversation. 

“Nick, where are you, Man?  You are supposed to be here,” Junior replied, a slight edge to his voice. 

“I’m stuck… in a closet… in a girl’s bedroom.  Her parents came home, and I was up here.  I can’t get out until they go to sleep.”

Junior started laughing.  “Window?” he finally coughed out.

“Her room is on the second floor and there are some nasty bushes down there.  Trust me, I thought about that option.”

“Whatever, Nick.  Get here when you can,” Junior finished.  He hung up the phone. 

“That went better than I expected,” Nick said, handing the phone back to Heather.  She smiled, kissed him, and then took the long cable back to her brother. 

When Nick looked up, he saw Kat watching him, smiling again. 

“What?” he said.

“This would be an epic story, if I could tell it.  And I REALLY want to tell it.”

“Maybe wait until Heather is away at college…  I don’t think either of us are ready to die.  I’m pretty sure her dad would dismember me if he found out.”

Kat started laughing.  “This is really funny, though.  You have to admit.”

“Maybe I’ll laugh about it tomorrow, if I’m still breathing.”

Heather walked back into the room, “What are you two laughing about?”

“Just how funny this will be later… when it isn’t an emergency,” Kat said.  “I guess you guys got some bonus time.  I’m just gonna read for a little bit, ok?”  She grabbed a book from her bag and sprawled out on the bed.

Heather walked back over to the closet, squeezed her way in and pulled the door behind her.  It was snug, but she was ok with that. 

Thirty minutes later Nick let her know that his need to visit the bathroom was getting to the point where it wasn’t going to be ignored much longer.  Kat looked between the two of them and strolled out of the room.  She came back into the room a moment later and told them to give her a minute.  She would distract Heather’s dad.  Her mom had already gone to bed. 

When Heather got the sign from Kat, Nick crawled across the hall on his hands and knees to keep from being seen by anyone downstairs.  He slipped into the bathroom and tried to pee as quietly as possible.  He quickly washed up and cracked the door open to look for the signal to come back.  Heather waved him over and he crawled back across the hall. 

“Crawling isn’t a good look for you, Nick,” Heather said with a grin splitting her face. 

“Balled up like an empty beer can by your dad is also not a good look,” he replied.  She kissed him again as Kat walked into the room. 

“I’d say get a room… but I guess you kind of already have one,” Kat said, laughing at her own joke.  “Come on… you guys know this is funny, right?” she said when they didn’t laugh back right away.  “You need to lighten up and laugh a little.”

Nick walked back over to the closet and sat on “his box” as Heather joined him to spend a little more time in his arms. 

After a few minutes, Kat said she was going to go downstairs and watch Saturday Night Live with Heather’s dad.  She would keep an eye on him so that she’d know when he was going to go to bed.  Heather and Nick stayed in the closet together, enjoying the closeness of the space. 

An hour later Kat quietly opened the door.  “Your dad is asleep in his chair.  This might be your best chance,” she whispered. 

“When will he go up to bed?” Nick asked. 

“He might not… sometimes when he falls asleep in the chair he’s there until morning.  I love having you here and it’s been really fun, but I think this is our best chance,” Heather said.  She kissed him again to punctuate how much she’d enjoyed having him hang out for the evening. 

Kat was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, rolling her eyes.  Heather went down in the lead, watching for a hand signal from Kat.  Nick followed, ready to bolt for the front door as soon as possible.  His freedom was only a few feet behind Heather’s father as he slept in the chair.

As Nick stepped off the bottom step, Mr. Jackson snorted and shifted in his chair.  Heather slipped over to the door and unlocked it with a clunk.  Kat kept her position by the couch, watching Mr. Jackson for signs of waking.  She kept her thumbs up as Nick slipped through the front door and ran across the lawn toward his car parked just around the corner. 

He unlocked his door and slid into the driver’s seat.  He fired up the big engine and pulled away from the curb as gently as he could, trying to keep as quiet as possible.  He headed to the skating rink to check in with his boss. 

“Junior,” Nick said as he stepped into the office from the outer lobby, “sorry, I just got away from her house.”

“No worries, Dude.  That had to be the best excuse I’ve ever heard.  Ever.  It’s all good,” Junior laughed.

“That’s what really happened, though.”

“Oh, I believe you.  Seriously, Nick, if it isn’t true, you deserve the night off for coming up with it.  But the real question is, did you get caught?” Junior said, his eyes twinkling. 

“I’m still alive… so… no.  I think I got a clean break,” patting himself to show he wasn’t a ghost.

Nick followed Junior out into the rink.  The late-night skating session had just finished up and the crew was busy cleaning the rink, picking up the rental skates and trash left by the skaters.  He dived right in, knowing what needed to be done.  The guys that had to pick up his slack were asking what happened, but he kept quiet.  Junior, catching the conversation as he walked by told them that it was his fault, not Nick’s, miscommunication about when he needed to be back.