Wayne found his sister seated by the dovecote. A stand of old pear trees formed a living canopy between the domed enclosure and the water. Eilene kept her gaze upon the birds as Wayne carried over an old plastic chair and seated himself. His sister was wrapped in a band of tension that just begged for a reason to spring.
He struggled to find a way to ask the obvious, which was, Is this for real?
Then Eilene said, “Mom dreamed about us sitting in a place just like this. Surrounded by a huge cage of birds. In the sunlight. As grown-ups. That was how she said it. Her two babies all grown up and sitting together while the birds flitted and sang. It made her so happy.”
The surprise was great enough to push his own questions to the back. Eilene rarely spoke about their mother. “When was this?”
“In the hospital. One of the last times I saw her alone.”
Eilene had been twelve when their mom died of cancer, Wayne ten. Two little kids surrounded by people who thought the world of their father. “You never thought about mentioning this before now?”
He expected lip. If Eilene was tense and sad enough to be talking about their mother, Wayne figured she was a grenade with the pin in the dust. Instead, what he got was, “I totally forgot. You know how things were after she …”
“I know.” Their father had refused to mourn. He was, after all, a pastor who dealt constantly with funerals and loss and a congregation’s earthly woes. He had locked himself up tight and vented his despair in tight wisps of disapproval. Most of them directed at Wayne.
Eilene went on, “I sit here for a while almost every time I come. And I’ve never thought of that time with Mom until just now, when you walked over. I was standing by her bed. She stroked my cheek. She told me everything was going to be all right. God had given her a sign. She had dreamed of her two babies all grown up, sitting by a cage of birds as big as a house, and we were talking about her.”
Eilene stopped then. Took a ragged breath. Put her hands together on the table in front of her and clenched them down upon the wood. Breathed again. “She was so happy.”
He stared at her. Eilene did not do sad and resigned. “What is going on here?”
She did not look up. “The businessman she was talking about is a very good person. He helps a lot of people. Our church is built on land he donated. People hit on him constantly because they know he’ll help if he can. He deserves better than this.”
“So you think it’s a scam.” When his sister did not respond, Wayne said, “What else could it be?”
Eilene just stared at her hands.
“You want me to take this on?”
Eilene said to the hands gripping one another upon the table, “I don’t know what I want.”
On the way back to the house, a very strange thing happened.
One moment, he was just Wayne Grusza, walking alongside his sister the pastor. A woman with whom, truth be told, he had a relationship that could only have been described as rocky. Eilene said to him, “Julio won’t stop talking about you and the trip to the airport. The kid really connected with you.”
Wayne was ready to give her back the sort of semi-argument that had made up about ninety percent of every conversation they had ever had. As in, was this still payback on a debt he didn’t owe her?
When it happened.
A pair of ladies he could not have picked out of a lineup were walking from the bungalows to the parking lot. They spotted Wayne and Eilene emerging from the trees’ shadows and veered off course, Wayne assumed to pass the time of day with Eilene.
Instead, the one using a cane said, “We were just going to the store. Do you need anything?”
Wayne did a double take at the realization they were talking to him. “I’m good, thanks.”
“What’s your favorite dessert?”
“Excuse me?”
Eilene answered, “Wayne takes a universal approach to sweets, but he’s always been addicted to chocolate.”
One woman said to the other, “Your chocolate mud pie recipe isn’t too bad.”
“It’s better than yours, is what you mean.”
“For chocolate mud pie,” Eilene said, “my brother would become your willing slave.”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary.” The ladies bestowed a twinned smile in Wayne’s direction and tottered away.
It took him the rest of the way back to his home to identify the sensation. Until he spied Jerry and Foster seated on his front porch, talking softly to the mystery lady leaning against the side railing.
After all, Wayne had put a lot of years and miles between himself and the last time he had ever felt like he belonged.
Before Eilene started up the steps, Wayne halted her with a touch to the arm and asked, “About Julio. Tell me what you want.”
She found it hard to plead. “School gets out tomorrow. By next week he’ll be hanging. You know what that means, right?”
“I was Special Ops, remember? Most of my team were born to hang.” One way or the other.
“Julio is ready game for the druggies cruising the streets. His brother and father are both made men. Julio’s a known quantity. The dealers will pressure him to hustle their wares to the other kids. He’s got nothing. How long is he going to say no?”
“I’ll talk to him again if you want, Eilene.”
Her silent thanks almost made him blush. As if he had finally managed to get the deal right in her eyes.
As Wayne climbed his front stairs, the mystery woman gave him a beautiful version of the stink eye, clearly expecting him to decline her offer. Instead, he leaned against the wall next to Jerry’s chair and said, “I’ll need to talk with your guy directly.”
She looked first at Eilene, then said, “I can make that happen.”
“Not just once. I need regular access.”
“I will tell him.”
“And his books. Corporate and personal. And somebody who’ll walk me through the auditing process.”
“He employs a battery of accountants.”
“Just one. Somebody you trust. Better still, somebody who’ll answer only to you. Someone you are certain won’t blab to a soul about what we’re doing.”
“What I meant was, people keep a very close eye on his finances.”
“Yeah, but how many are looking for an in-house scam?”
She nodded. “I will make this happen. Do you want to talk about your pay?”
“You strike me as somebody who came with a number you were going to argue over until you got it.”
She gave a very European gesture, a slight forward thrust to her chin, a minimalist shrug.
“I’ll take it. There. I saved us both a lot of trouble.”
Jerry said, “You forgot to ask her name.”
Wayne kept his gaze locked on target. “I didn’t forget a thing.”
“Tatyana,” she replied. “Tatyana Kuchik.”
Eilene said, “Tatyana is an attorney. She has just one client.”
But Wayne could see Tatyana drawing back now, uncertain whether to speak this semi-famous guy’s name in front of people she didn’t know. So he said, “Where do you want this meeting to take place?”
“He lives near Vero Beach. First I’ll need to go back to our Orlando offices and report in.”
The idea struck him then. One that might draw a bit of sanity from a day that otherwise was totally off the wall. “When you come back, would you mind giving a kid a ride?”