Page 42 of After 5
“I’d give you a brotherly hug to console you, but I’m afraid my white dress shirt will be caught in the fusillade of chocolate retaliation.”
“I’m fine.” I bit into the donut and gave a troubled sigh.
Eli plucked a tissue from the box on his desk and passed it to me. He pointed to the area above his upper lip.
I swiped at the wayward chocolate icing on mine.
“Maybe he’s got a plan.” Eli thought for a moment. “Maybe he’s keeping you safe.”
Safe. Like the sword he’s protecting. “He stole a Confederate sword that dates to the Civil War. Jake thinks there might be a connection.”
“Jen, no way are you traveling back to the Civil War. Do you know how many people died? And not only from the war, but from the diseases that followed the soldiers around like a tick on a coonhound.”Click, click, click.Eli waved the pen at me like a magic wand.
“I don’t understand your reasoning. I went back to World War II. I’ve been in a shootout with Bonnie and Clyde and held captive by Pancho Villa. Why won’t you trust me to use my brains and do my job?” I crammed the rest of the chocolate glazed donut into my mouth.
“Because I love you, and this thing you do makes me crazy.”
“It’s the thing I choose to do, so treat me the same way you would if I worked as a police officer.”
“At least the police get to wear a Kevlar vest. With you, there’s nothing to protect you. Do you know how inaccurate the guns were back then?”
I shrugged and moved on to the sprinkle-covered donut holes.
Click, click, click.
“You might get hit by a stray bullet, or worse, by cannon fire. The Union cannons killed an entire company of men in one shot. Dad took me to the reenactment in Pennsylvania. It’s not pretty. Those cannons pop out canisters that explode grapeshot. It’s like a shotgun on methamphetamines.” Eli’s voice elevated and his eyes were growing wide, Charles Manson style.
“I have my key.”
He tossed his pen on the desk, yay! and stared blankly at me. There was no arguing with him. The men in my life went to extremes to keep me safe.
“I’m going to take the rest of these to the girls.” I held up the donut box.
He grimaced at me, and I took my donut enhanced booty to the breakroom.
My coworkers, Paulina, Elvira, and Helga, fussed around the coffee machine and cheered when I slid the box of donuts onto the table.
They knew I had a relationship with a Scottish hunk, but their knowledge of him ended there. When I explained he dumped me for another woman, they agreed Caiyan was a slimeball.
Devouring the donuts, we made up names to call him. It was childish but satisfying. Elvira, the collections manager, told us about the time she ran over her ex-husband.
“Did he die?” Paulina, Eli’s perky assistant, asked.
“No, but he broke both his legs when I hit him the second time.”
“Did you get arrested?” Helga asked.
“Not that time. I claimed self-defense. He was mean as a black-tailed rattlesnake. The hospital put him in a half-body cast. Because I felt guilty, for three months I waited on him hand and foot.”
“Did he get better?” I asked and imagined running over Caiyan in my Mustang.
“Did he ever. Nine months later his physical therapist gave birth to a bouncing baby boy. The kid had a knit of eyebrows like my guy. We got divorced.”
“How did he manage to have sex in a body cast?” Paulina asked.
“Let’s just say there was one thing that wasn’t a disappointment.”
A round of laughter drew Eli into the breakroom.
