Part 5
By Enginerd
Chapter 15 - The Road to Recovery
As they walked to the room, Janice looked at Greta. "I'm glad you operated," she said softly.
"It went very well. The staff was quite good," Greta offered.
"Even your translator?" Janice asked, eyeing her curiously.
"She is very proficient," Greta begrudgingly offered.
"But you speak Greek. . . ."
"There is no room for errors in an operating room, Janice. Communication is critical. I was not about to take any chances with Ivan's life," Greta firmly informed the archaeologist, who nodded thoughtfully.
"So where did you learn to use the whip like that?" Daniel asked Dr. Pappas and sipped his milk.
Melinda glanced around the cafeteria uneasily.
"Yeah, where did you learn, Mama? That was amazing!" JJ interjected and ate the last of his pudding.
Mel looked at her son with a weak smile.
"Yeah, so where did you learn?" Paul asked eagerly.
"Uh," she said then looked at her empty tea cup. "Oh, look at that, my cup is empty. I'm going to get another tea. Do you boys want anything else?" She asked as she quickly stood. The boys shook their heads no. "I'll be right back," Mel said with a smile and retreated to the counter.
The boys looked at each other with shrugs, then the twins stared at the small American. "Did you get to the temple?" Daniel asked.
"Yes," JJ responded, causing the twins to look at each other nervously. "It was scary at first but . . . ."
"Did Muló find anything?" Paul asked uneasily.
"We met an old man then saw some people. Actually, they really weren't there. Well, the man was, but not the others," JJ said and sighed, having difficulty explaining the amazing experience.
"Who did you see?" Daniel asked.
"Whom," Melinda corrected him and sat down, startling the boys.
"‘Whom' doesn't sound right," Daniel argued.
Paul shook his head, wondering if his brother had a death wish.
"It will," Melinda promised, then looked at JJ. "Whom did you see, JJ?" she asked.
"Well, after this big flash of light . . . ," JJ said with wonderment and continued. "We saw a family with kids playing in their yard, but I didn't know them," he said with less excitement and a shrug.
Melinda smiled at the boys at that hopeful news.
"Did she see Faith?" Paul asked, surprising Melinda who assumed the people were the boys' family. If not . . . did Janice finally find her daughter? Mel wondered with excitement.
"Who?" JJ asked curiously.
"You mean ‘whom,'" Daniel softly corrected the kid with a smile, glancing at the tall woman who gently shook her head no. Daniel rolled his eyes with frustration.
"Janice seemed curious about one girl but when I asked whom the people were . . . ," JJ said, glancing at Daniel, who muttered ‘who' still sounded better.
". . . she said they were just a happy family," JJ continued, shrugging.
Mel's eyebrows furrowed curiously.
As they entered Ivan's room, Janice cringed. His face was pale, almost white. And he was too big for the bed, she noted with irritation, eyeing his feet that extended over the end of the bed, propped up on a chair with pillows.
"It's the best we could do with his size," Greta said apologetically, getting a nod of understanding from Janice.
"I should go check on another patient. Dr. Maltos wanted me to check on a persistent post-op infection," Greta said.
"You've got another patient?" Janice asked with surprise.
"Two others, well, they are not actually mine, but I'm consulting," Dr. Snider said with a pleased smile.
"They better watch out. In a couple more hours, you'll be running the place."
Greta chuckled, then looked at the woman who always had faith in her.
"Who knows, I just might," Greta offered, making Janice smile.
After Greta left, Janice quietly looked at the pale man a moment then took his large hand in hers.
"Hey Ivan. It's me, Muló," she said softly.
"Thank you for protecting Mel," she said, taking a deep breath and brushing his hand against her cheek. "I can always count on you when things get out of hand. And that's been the story for the past few years, hasn't it? But this time, I got you hurt," she said with a cringe.
"I don't know what I would have done if you died, Ivan," Janice whispered with pain, wishing the tall man would wake and talk to her with his deep, soothing voice of reason.
"The way things are, I'd never see you again. You'd be up there, in heaven, singing and dancing with everyone around that big Gypsy camp fire in the sky . . . and I'd be here," Janice said, then laughed uneasily.
"I know, I wouldn't make it to heaven anyway. But the funny thing is, I'll never even get to see the rest of my friends in hell," Janice said thoughtfully, shaking her head.
"I guess that's a good thing about being immortal, huh?"
Janice took an uneasy breath and clenched his limp hand.
"Well," Janice said, clearing her throat. "Greta says the operation went well. So I should warn you, you'll be in big trouble if you make a liar out of her."
Janice gazed at her friend's pale face a long moment and felt her eyes start to water. Suddenly, she took a quick, deep breath to fight the ever-present sea of emotions that always threatened to swell up and drown her. She had to be strong.
"It's kinda late. The boys should try and get some sleep," Janice announced as she carefully returned the large hand to the bed.
"Please get well, Ivan," Janice whispered and placed a tender kiss on his forehead.
Mel and the boys joined Christine and Lee in the waiting area.
The twins looked at each other with amusement, discovering Lee and his new friend sleeping in their seats, leaning against each other.
"Will we be sleeping here too, Mama?" JJ quietly asked with a yawn.
Melinda eyed her son with mild surprise. He must really be tired to ask.
"I need to see what Janice's plans are, ok honey?" Mel said softly as her son yawned again and sat down with a tired nod.
Mel looked at her still sleeping friends then to the twins. Before she could ask them to look after JJ, they nodded.
"Thank you," she said warmly, making the twins smile.
"Excuse me," Greta said, interrupting her conversation to a doctor when she spotted Janice coming out of Ivan's room.
Greta quickly caught up to the archaeologist, who was heading back to the waiting area.
"You ready to get back to camp?" Janice asked, looking at her watch with an exhausted sigh.
"I can't. There's an infant in critical condition I wanted to keep an eye on."
Janice stopped in her tracks and eyed the German.
"You are taking over, aren't you?" Janice asked.
"I think I'll need a few more hours for that," Greta countered with amusement.
"Just make sure you get some rest, Greta. You can't help them if you're passing out from exhaustion."
"So, is that your medical opinion?" Greta challenged, crossing her arms.
"No, my experience," Janice said, watching two doctors with a small, pleased smile as they made a point to greet Dr. Snider as they passed.
"I won't pass out from exhaustion, Janice. There happens to be a cot in the doctor's lounge and it's actually more comfortable than mine. Of course, that's not saying much."
Janice's eyebrows furrowed. "If you didn't like the cot, why didn't you say something?!?" Janice asked with frustration, knowing she could have fixed that.
"I did. ‘Ow.' ‘Ouch.' ‘Oh my aching back.' ‘I think I may never walk again.' . . . ," Greta offered dryly.
Janice looked at her curiously, then with guilt when she remembered some of those comments. "I . . ."
"I know. Now go, get the boys to bed," the German said.
Janice nodded, starting to leave but she paused and looked into the German's brown eyes. "I never really listened, did I?"
"No," Greta said with a sad smile. "But I wasn't exactly expressing myself very well," she admitted and slowly leaned over, finally expressing herself with a soft, lingering kiss.
"Where's Muló?" Paul asked Melinda as she returned through the double doors, alone.
Melinda glanced at the boys then JJ uncomfortably.
"Uh . . . she's on her way," Melinda said uneasily and sat down next to JJ, brushing a stray piece of lint from her skirt.
As she looked up, Greta could see the concerned look fill Janice's face. A look that broke her heart. As Janice took a breath to say something, Greta held her hand up and gently shook her head.
"I know. Your heart has always belonged to her," the German said with disappointment.
"Good night, Janice. I'll see you tomorrow," Dr. Snider said, standing tall with a forced smile, and walked away.
"You ok?" Daniel finally asked the tall woman, who seemed disturbed by something. Mel looked up with a not very convincing smile and nodded weakly.
"She's just tired after everything, you idiot," Paul said.
Before Daniel could respond, he heard "Don't call your brother an idiot" in stereo as Janice joined them.
"Jinx!" JJ blurted with a smile, looking between Janice and his mother.
‘Jinxed' perhaps, Mel and Janice thought with sighs.
I could have at least fixed the goddamn cot, Janice thought with irritation as her hand combed through her hair with frustration. Noting her hand trembled, Janice quickly clenched her fists to stop it. Damnit, she thought and cleared her throat. She glanced uneasily at Mel, who briefly looked at her before her eyes dropped. Janice's eyebrows furrowed.
"Are we going back to camp?" Daniel asked.
Why does she seem so . . . sad? Janice wondered with concern.
"Muló?" Daniel asked, startling her when he touched her arm.
"Huh?"
"Are we going back to camp?" Paul asked.
"Uh, yeah. But I need to go call a cab," Janice said, taking a deep, calming breath as she pulled out her wallet and glanced around for a pay phone. Good, Covington, just keep busy, she told herself.
"You don't need to call a cab, Janice. I'll drive," Mel offered softly.
"I don't want to be any tr. . . ." Janice responded, then paused and sighed, knowing it was already too late. "Thank you," she said, her gaze dropped uneasily to the floor.
Except for JJ's gentle snoring, the drive back to camp was quiet.
Melinda focused on the road ahead, occasionally glancing at Janice, who stared intently at the road. So close, yet so far, Mel thought with another pained sigh. That kiss she saw confirmed to the Southerner what she had feared. Janice had moved on.
While that broke her heart, Melinda took some consolation that Janice was not alone. Despite the archaeologist's fierce independence, Janice had always needed someone to share her thoughts and feelings with, someone to balance her. Melinda took a deep breath, struggling with the painful realization that she was no longer that someone.
Mel glanced at the archaeologist, who still stared quietly out the window. Its no wonder she's quiet, Mel thought, considering the understandable exhaustion from the physically and emotionally draining day. But curiously, Mel noted Janice didn't look tired at all. Instead she was wide awake and alert as she stared intently at the road ahead, almost as if she was on guard for something else to happen, Mel considered, noticing the clenched fists.
Was the cot uncomfortable from the very beginning? Or did it get that way over time? Janice wondered with a furrowed brow.
"Is Ivan really ok?" Melinda guessed uneasily, startling the archaeologist.
"Greta says he's stable. Why?"
Mel shrugged. "Uh . . . You're just quiet."
"Oh. Sorry. I guess I was enjoying the peace after all the excitement." And she had no idea what to say to the woman, Janice considered, scratching the back of her head. Not surprising, she thought, since she didn't know what to say to anyone anymore. She quickly pulled her trembling hand back to her side and clenched it.
"Well, today has been interesting," Melinda allowed, pushing up her glasses.
Still the princess of understatement, Janice thought with a weary chuckle.
Encouraged, the Southerner smiled as she pulled into camp and turned off the engine.
"So, are things always this exciting around here?" Mel asked, abruptly halting the archaeologist's chuckle.
"Uh, not like this . . . usually," Janice said uncomfortably, knowing she had subjected the boys and everyone else to more excitement than they ever should have had to endure.
Before the concerned Southerner could respond, Janice quickly reached over the seat and jostled the boys awake. "Come on guys, we're here," she said and jumped out of the car.
Paul and Daniel nodded sluggishly and yawned as they left the car. Mumbling ‘thanks,' they waved weakly, and headed for their tent.
"Thanks for the ride," Janice said, poking her head in the door.
"You're welcome," Mel said.
"Good night," Janice said and startled Mel when she started to shut the door.
"So! Uh," Mel quickly blurted, managing to delay the hasty retreat a moment when the archaeologist opened the door wider and looked inside. "Shall I come by in the morning to take ya'll to the hospital?" Mel asked and pushed her glasses up.
"Uh . . . that would be great. Thanks. Good Night," Janice said distractedly and shut the door.
"Good night," Melinda uttered in a pained whispered as she watched Janice walk away and disappear into the boys' tent.
Melinda glanced around the car, which now felt terribly empty. Even with the comforting presence of her slumbering son, Mel was unable to shake the overwhelming sense of loss.
Reluctantly, Mel started the engine and drove away.
Chapter 16 - Letting Go
The boys got in their cots and pulled their blankets up as Janice entered their tent. They froze, looking at her apprehensively.
"I'm really proud of you guys," she said tightly, glancing to the ground. "Try and get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."
"Good night, Muló," they said softly and yawned.
"Good night," she said quietly, quickly retreating from their tent.
She shook her head with a sigh as she walked to the center of camp. She stopped and closed her eyes, listening to the peaceful breeze gently rustling through the leaves. Taking a deep breath, she slowly opened her eyes and surveyed the moonlit area, which, a few short hours ago looked vastly different than the tranquil scene now.
It was close today, she thought uneasily. Too close, she amended as her eyes drifted to the truck, then to where Ivan was shot. Her head sunk, heavy with guilt.
It could have been any one of them. Any one of them could have died because of her fucking stupidity, she thought.
And Ivan still could . . . .
‘Ah fuck,' she softly growled as she fought her surging fear.
Busy. She needed to keep busy, she quickly concluded and marched to the work tent.
After lighting a lantern, she stared at the table covered with maps. Goddamn useless maps, she thought and shook her head with frustration. Useless when she was looking for the temple, and useless now, she thought as her jaw clenched. And what would she even look for now?
If only there was a map that could show her a way out of this eternal Covington curse.
But there wasn't.
She was cursed, she concluded. Even when she found the Temple of Truth, which would have been an extraordinary accomplishment for anyone else and her, long ago, it only brought her more pain.
Why couldn't she just be happy? Faith was. Why did she hate those people, who obviously gave her daughter so much love and joy? Why couldn't just one fucking thing go right and let her find the boys' family?
She picked up her journal and stared at it with disgust. How many years were wasted looking for that goddamn temple? Two? Of course, that was nothing to an immortal. But what about to two young boys, who already had many years of their childhood stolen as they lived in terror? How could she be so fucking stupid as to squander away that precious time selfishly dragging them around Europe, exposing them to danger?
Her eyes filled with tears as she angrily drew her arm back to throw the damn journal across the tent. But she stopped, not wanting to startle the boys. The least she could do was to let them have a good night's sleep.
Or did their cots hurt too?
Fuck! Janice thought, returning the journal to the table, and ran her trembling hand through her hair. Why didn't she say anything? How many years had she endured something that gave her pain? Well, at least she didn't need a bullet removed from her stomach.
"FUCK!" she hissed angrily, determined to fight that feeling of helplessness that grew each moment she stopped to think.
Busy. She needed to keep busy, she thought in desperation.
Grabbing an axe, she decided with great conviction that the camp needed more firewood.
With her son still sprawled out on the back seat, oblivious to the conscious world, Melinda drove back to Athens.
Unable to sort out everything that had happened in this whirlwind of a day, her mind focused on Janice's surprising and disturbing retreat from the car.
Well, Janice did seem a bit tense on the drive back to camp, she considered.
Tense?? Brilliant observation, Melinda, she thought, rolling her eyes. After everything Janice had been through, it was no wonder she was feeling a bit ‘tense.' And her friend was now lying in a hospital.
And she was just driving away. Melinda cringed at the disturbing feeling that she was abandoning Janice, despite that hasty departure from her car. She wanted to turn the car around to return to camp . . . and Janice.
But that wouldn't be appropriate, would it?
Struggling to be fair, she tried to place herself in Greta's shoes. How would she feel if some former lover of Janice's had returned and simply injected herself back into Janice's life?
Her eyebrows furrowed. Mel knew she had to accept the heart-breaking fact that it was now Greta's place to be there for Janice.
But with Greta still at the hospital, how could she possibly be there for Janice right now!?! Melinda exhaled with exasperation as her fingers anxiously strummed the steering wheel.
But even if she were to give into her heart and turn the car around right now, would she merely be another complication in Janice's already painfully complicated life?
The last thing Melinda wanted to do was to make Janice's life even more complicated.
JJ's gentle snoring was interrupted by a snort as he shifted. Hearing her son's soft snoring resume, Melinda thanked the Lord for his safe return. She was truly grateful she only had to endure his frightening disappearance for a few agonizing hours. She couldn't begin to imagine what it would have been like had it been . . . years.
Melinda slammed on the breaks.
JJ flew off the backseat and onto the floor with an "Ooooff."
"Hey!"
"JJ!" Mel gasped and turned to see her son climbing back onto the seat. "Are you all right?!?"
"Yeah. What's going on, Mama??" He asked, rubbing his sleepy eyes.
"Well, I suppose I'm going to become another complication," Mel announced and turned the car around.
"Huh?"
Janice swiftly marched through the trees, away from camp. Though well-lit by the bright glow of the full moon, she could have followed the trail blind-folded. The path was well-worn, taken whenever she needed to make firewood.
Coming to the clearing by the stream, she lodged her axe in the side of a fat stump and collected an armful of branches scattered about the area. After tossing the wood to the ground by the stump, she quickly gathered another armful, then another, until she couldn't find anymore.
Keep busy, she told herself.
Grabbing a branch from her large pile of wood, she placed it on top of the flat stump with a thunk. Pulling her axe free, her chopping began.
With intense focus, she swung her axe, driving it into the wood with an angry grunt. The pieces flew in opposite directions, away from the woman and her axe.
Ignoring the chopped pieces, she quickly retrieved another branch and placed it on the stump. With an angry growl, she swung the axe, quickly splitting the wood.
Just keep busy.
Another piece was split, after another, each quickly sacrificed to her growing anger.
But anger was a welcome friend. In her youth, it enabled her to accomplish things when others thought she couldn't. And she quickly learned, anger also helped her to drown out other feelings, the feelings she couldn't afford to have.
Anger was all that she had left in Birkenau. And she desperately needed it to help drown the terror, she recalled, sneering at the log which was about to endure what Dr. Mengele and those Nazis deserved for subjecting innocent people, including the boys, to unspeakable horrors.
"Fucking Bastards!" She yelled as she drove the axe down with all her might. The blade easily severed the branch and imbedded itself deeply into the stump. With a couple hard yanks, she freed the axe and retrieved another log with a trembling hand.
Another piece was split, after another, and another. Her breath became belabored as her anger was fueled.
Anger also helped drown the pain of mourning. She remembered the devastating number of friends who had been killed. She remembered them all.
Sister Mary Kathryn . . . .
"Goddamned Bastards!" she spued, angrily driving her axe into the wood as she recalled the nun being shot, then burned beyond recognition in the Coventry Cathedral. Only the first of many friends to die at Nazis hands . . . like Rebecca Weintraub with the three beautiful sisters.
"FUCK!" she spat with irritation at her thoughts that just wouldn't stay buried.
She quickly grabbed another large branch and placed it on the stump, recalling Rebecca's sickly appearance and shaven head with a wince. But despite all that the Nazi bastards took from her, they couldn't touch her deep love for her family.
But her deep love couldn't save her from a brutal death. Could it?
Just chop, she told herself. "Just Chop!" she growled and swung the axe as the other faces she had met too briefly filled her thoughts.
Eric Goldman, son of Hans the shoemaker. . . .
"Goddamnit," she growled as she placed another large piece of wood on the stump, unable to push from her thoughts the young man who was worried he disappointed his father by being a house painter instead of a cobbler. He told her he had made peace with his maker . . . just before they took him away.
Peace with his fucking maker!
"UGGGH!" She swung the axe at the wood, vowing there would be no peace with her maker, who had cruelly let his children die. He let his children die! Like Miriam Feinstein, the young girl who was almost seven . . . like JJ.
But you almost got JJ killed today.
And you almost got Daniel killed today.
"Stop!" Her palm shot up and ground against her temple as if she could push the unwanted thoughts away.
And Paul . . . .
"Jesus Christ! Stop it. STOP it! Just make the goddamn firewood!" She snapped as she picked up another piece of wood.
But her thoughts disobeyed her.
You could have prevented Ivan's shooting . . . .
You could have avoided endangering everyone you care about . . .
And now the circle of danger had expanded to Christine, JJ, and Mel, who were endangered after being with her only a day.
But Mel wasn't even with you one day.
Oh God, oh God, she thought with panic, feeling helpless against the flood of emotions that threatened to drown her.
"AAHHHH!" She cried out as she angrily brought the axe down against the branch.
Just keep busy and it will pass, she chanted. It will pass, just like every other time, she told herself as she reached down for another piece.
Her eyes darted around with concern. There was no more wood.
But she needed to make firewood!
She quickly stood, clenching her axe tightly as she nervously looked around the clearing with panic.
Damnit! She needed to make more goddamn firewood! She growled and brought the axe down against the stump as if it had betrayed her, as if it stole the wood to force her to think. She hacked at the stump, again and again, chips flew as she decimated it with a fury of frantic blows.
She suddenly stopped, blinking at the mangled remains as sweat dripped from her brow, splashing on the stump. She calmly stood, her belabored breaths struggled to fill her lungs with air as she wavered from exhaustion. Slowly, she wiped the sweat off her brow with her forearm and focused on a large tree nearby.
She needed to make firewood, she thought numbly.
Forgetting the mangled stump, she walked to the large tree.
Eyeing its thick trunk, which was much too large for her arms to encircle, and its significant height, which was taller than the neighboring trees, she concluded it would do.
She took a deep breath and resumed her chopping. With an almost soothing rhythm of
quick, powerful swings, she pushed her lungs and arms to the point of collapse. But she
couldn't stop.
She needed to make firewood.
She could at least make sure the boys were warm, she thought numbly. She could at least do that . . . .
Finally, the tall giant began to creak, slowly yielding to the desperate human and her axe.
Janice stood back, her body shaking as her lungs gulped the air.
The majestic tree slowly began its decent to Earth, swooshing through its fellow survivors, whose branches seemed to reach out for their dying friend. But he just slipped through them and hit the ground with a deep thud that shook the ground and reverberated throughout the forest.
Janice clenched the axe as she watched the giant bounce and shiver with his last bit of life as it slowly rocked into its final resting place.
She stared at the now-still tree. Hesitantly, she walked its length and stopped halfway.
"Oh God," she whispered with horror as the axe slipped from her hand and dropped to the ground.
"I'm so sorry," she said, kneeling down and nervously touching its bark. "I'm so sorry . . ." she repeated over and over.
She sensed someone behind her. Someone who had witnessed this carnage. Someone who had better leave before they get hurt too.
"Go away," she weakly warned with a cracking voice, still staring numbly at the tree. But the warning went unheeded as footsteps brought them closer.
Janice slowly turned, looking over her shoulder. There, only a few feet away, was her princess of long ago.
Janice blinked as the raven-haired woman quietly stepped even closer. Her face, glistening with streaks of moisture, held no signs of fear, only profound sorrow. But she should be afraid, Janice thought. The woman, by every right and rationale thought, should take her son and normal life and run far, far away.
But instead, the tall woman silently extended a hand.
Janice stared at the hand uneasily, as if it might suddenly be taken away the moment she dared reach for it.
But the extended hand remained, steady and strong, freely offering something Janice always had trouble asking for, something she desperately needed now. Help.
Janice continued to stare at the offering for a long, cautious moment.
Finally, her own hand, trembling and hesitant, reached out. When their fingers touched, Janice exhaled nervously and desperately grabbed the hand she feared still might be taken away. Looking up uncertainly, Janice found what she needed. Certainty and unwavering love.
Carefully, she was lifted up and slowly guided into a long–missed embrace. Once within the protective circle of Melinda's strong arms, a flood of tears finally burst forth.
"Oh God," Janice gasped between sobs, desperately clinging to her soulmate,
who was not about to let go.
Chapter 17 - Muló's Wrath
Anxiously lying in their cots, the boys stared at the ceiling of their tent, wide awake. They wanted to go investigate the disturbing noises that woke them. But to their surprise, they found Dr. Pappas had returned to their camp and was on her way to do that herself. She made them promise to stay in the tent while she went to see what was happening.
But that was a couple of hours ago. And though the quiet had finally returned, each moment that passed without knowing what was happening or what had caused the unusual outburst, made them more worried. Muló had her moments, but never like that.
"That's it," Daniel blurted with frustration. "Come on," he said, getting up from his cot.
"She said to wait here," Paul said with concern.
"You can wait if you want, but I'm going!" Daniel announced.
"Do you really want to make her mad?"
"Which one?"
"Does it really matter?!?"
"Look, they might need something," Daniel argued, not entirely convinced himself. Spotting a canteen, he grabbed it with a triumphant smile.
"They are by a stream, you idiot."
"Either shut up and come with me or shut up and stay here."
Mel sat, leaning against a tree with Janice in her arms. Where she belongs, the Southerner thought as she continued her slow, soothing caresses of the now-calm woman.
Though their tears had finally stopped, neither were in a rush to move and disturb the wonderful peace that embraced them. So they sat in contented silence.
With her ear resting against Melinda's chest, Janice listened to the soothing rhythm of her heartbeat as her head gently drifted with the rise and fall of each breath.
She finally felt . . . whole.
Janice almost forgot what that felt like. Tears began to well up again as she exhaled heavily and hugged the tall woman tightly.
Mel gently kissed Janice's head as her hand caressed the freshly damp cheek.
"They keep coming," Janice whispered with a sniff.
"Let them."
"I hate it."
"Crying?"
"Yeah."
"You're human, Janice," Melinda said with a smile which faded when Janice sat up with a troubled look. Before Janice could say anything, Mel pressed her fingers to Janice's lips.
"You are," Mel said firmly.
Hiding behind a tree, the boys watched Muló take the tall woman's hand away from her lips, kiss it, and clench it against her chest. Paul turned to his brother crouching next to him.
"They might need something," Paul muttered softly, shaking his head.
Daniel's brow furrowed as he looked at his canteen.
"I almost believe you," Janice said, looking sadly into Mel's eyes.
"Janice . . . ," Mel began, but fell silent and glanced to the path.
Hearing the noise too, Janice rolled her eyes. "Come on out, guys," Janice called out wearily, but no one emerged.
"Don't make me come and get you," Janice warned, causing the two boys to hesitantly appear.
"Uh, we didn't want to disturb you," Paul said uneasily as they stepped out into view and approached them.
Melinda tried to discreetly take her hand back, but Janice held on firmly. "I'm not done with it yet," Janice said softly, making the Southerner smile.
"Here's some water," Daniel announced, suddenly holding out the canteen inches from Janice's face. Mel grinned.
"Uh . . . thanks," Janice said, blinking with surprise and accepting it with her free hand.
"You ok, Muló?" Paul asked, looking around the clearing littered by wooden debris with great concern. She must really have needed to make firewood . . . .
"I am now," Janice said softly, squeezing Mel's hand slightly. "Uh, while you're here, we might as well discuss a few things," she said uncomfortably.
"I should leave ya'll alone," Mel offered politely as she started to get up, but Janice's hand tightened around hers.
"No, stay. Please," Janice asked softly. The Southerner nodded with a small smile of joy.
Janice looked up at the boys uneasily. Suddenly needing a drink of water, she looked between the canteen and her hand holding Mel's with a furrowed brow.
Mel rolled her eyes and unscrewed the cap for the stubborn woman.
"Thanks," Janice said with a small grin. After silently offering the canteen to Mel, who shook her head no, Janice took a large sip.
Mel pushed up her glasses, suddenly feeling self-conscious in front of the boys, who were staring at them and their still-clasped hands.
"Don't worry, Dr. Pappas. Muló explained all about the birds and the birds," Daniel offered, causing Janice to start coughing.
"Birds and the birds?" Mel asked.
"Yeah, and the bees and the bees, too," Paul added, looking at Janice as she continued to cough water.
"Of course, we already knew about the . . ." Daniel quickly offered.
"Stop!" Janice finally wheezed, then looked at them with an uncomfortable smile. "We get the picture," she said with difficulty and a small cough.
"You all right?" Mel asked with amusement, gently patting the archaeologist's back.
"Peachy."
"What did you want to talk about?" Daniel asked.
Janice paused a moment and sighed. "Well, I should apologize for worrying you guys. I . . . I kind of let things get out of hand and," she said, glancing at the decimated stump and felled tree with a cringe. "I'm sorry."
"It's ok, Muló," Daniel said with a shrug.
"There's no need to apologize. A lot happened today," Paul offered as Daniel nodded with agreement.
"Yeah, a lot did happen. But I'm afraid a lot didn't," she said with a heavy sigh. "Uh, I wanted you to know I did get to the temple. But I, I didn't find your relatives," she blurted guiltily as her eyes dropped to the ground.
As she squeezed Janice's hand, Mel noted curiously that the boys were looking at each other with guilt, not disappointment or sadness.
"I though if I could just get to the temple, it would solve everything. It didn't," Janice said uneasily with a heavy sigh, still unable to meet their gaze.
Daniel and Paul continued to look at Janice and each other guiltily. Melinda's eyes narrowed.
"I'm really sorry," Janice said tightly, feeling the tears start to return.
"Do you boys have something you would like to say?" Melinda challenged them with a glare, surprising the archaeologist and scaring the boys.
"Uh," they said in unison, making the archaeologist glance at them curiously.
"We . . . uh, actually . . . ," Daniel said, looking at Paul, who suddenly looked ill.
"We knew you wouldn't find any of our relatives. None of our uncles or aunts survived," Daniel rapidly admitted and cringed.
Oh dear, Mel thought uneasily and watched Janice's eyes narrow. Slowly, the archaeologist stood up, finally releasing Mel's hand.
"You lied to me?" Janice asked evenly, glaring at them.
Oh dear, Melinda thought as she pushed up her glasses and quickly stood too.
"We thought if you knew we didn't have anyone left, you'd send us to an orphanage," Paul blurted nervously.
"You lied to me?"
"We didn't want to end up in an orphanage with no one we knew," Daniel added.
"You lied to me?" Janice asked again, her calmness causing them more concern than her outbursts of anger.
Oh dear, Mel thought, almost as worried as the boys.
"We wanted to stay with you, Muló," Paul admitted with panic, causing Melinda to cringe in sympathy.
"You lied to me?"
"Yes," they finally uttered, as their heads dropped with shame and tears filled their eyes.
"I see," Janice said with a clenched jaw.
"Janice, what are you going to do?" The concerned Southerner asked. The boys glanced hopefully at their unexpected champion.
"Well, Mel, I'm not really sure," Janice said with irritation.
"I think they should face the consequences of their actions, don't you?" Janice asked, staring at the boys, who cringed as their eyes fell to the ground again.
"Uh . . . of course," Mel said uncomfortably, pushing up her glasses.
"And there should be significant consequences for lying, don't you agree?" Janice quickly asked, making Mel more uncomfortable.
"Of course, Janice, but the question is, what sort of punishment is appropriate," Mel said diplomatically. The boys looked at Janice with quick nods of agreement.
"Well right at the moment, it seems appropriate to me that they shouldn't get their way through lying and that I should send them to an orphanage," Janice snarled, pausing for an uncomfortably long moment, swearing she could almost hear them wince.
When Mel's eyes widened with concern, Janice smirked at her. Oh my, Dr. Covington, you do play hardball don't you? Melinda thought, now feeling a different pang of sympathy for the boys.
"But I really don't have the heart . . ." Janice finally said, making the boys quickly look up with relief and cautiously hopeful smiles.
". . . to do that to the poor orphanage," Janice added as Melinda bit her lip.
"Hey!" Daniel protested.
"Don't you dare ‘hey' me!" Janice snapped angrily, startling even Mel.
Janice stared at the two, growled, then started to pace.
"You two lied to me for four years!" Janice snapped, stopping long enough to wave four angry fingers in front of them, before pacing again.
"For as long as you have known me! I am so pissed off right now, you may wish I had sent you to an orphanage. But I'm not going to do that. Oh no. You know why?" She said, stopping with a feral grin which provoked uneasy gulps from the twins, who shook their heads no.
Somehow, Mel knew Janice would do "irate parent" very well. Though, she considered the archaeologist really could have selected a better word than "pissed."
"What's rule number three?!?" She barked.
"Be prepared to pay the consequences if you screw up," they chanted weakly.
"That's right. And I'm personally going to see to it that you do. And you two will see, first hand, how I live up to the name ‘Muló'!" Janice snarled.
"But we just wanted to stay with you," Paul whimpered, as tears filled their eyes. "We love you," Daniel admitted softly, with a nod from his brother.
Mel grinned at how quickly the timidly spoken words diffused Janice's fierce anger. Janice blinked and looked at the ground, taking an uneasy breath.
"The feeling is mutual," Janice said softly, surprising the boys, but not Mel, who smiled broadly. "And I want you to stay with me."
"You do?" Paul asked hopefully, glancing at his brother, who smiled.
"Yeah. But if you don't think enough of me or yourselves to be honest, maybe it's not such a good idea," Janice said.
"We'll never lie again, honest!" Paul quickly said. "Really!" Daniel added.
"It's never a good idea to promise something if you think you could screw it up," Janice warned.
"We won't. Honest!" Daniel said.
"Well, before you go off making promises or think about lying again, I want you two to remember something my father taught me. A man is worth his word. If his word means nothing, he means nothing," Janice said, gaining nods from the boys.
"Now get back to camp and get some sleep. My retribution can start later," Janice said with a menacing smile, making the boys wonder if they should be overjoyed or very worried.
Chapter 18 - Hurdles
After the boys quickly retreated to the camp, the women slowly walked back, hand-in-hand. Mel couldn't help but grin at Janice.
"What?"
"I have to admit, you had me worried at first. But you are really wonderful with them," Mel praised the archaeologist, provoking a small, pleased smile. Mel's opinion meant the world to her.
"Not bad for winging it, eh?" Janice said with a shrug, making Mel chuckle.
"You're a natural, Janice Covington," Mel declared, pushing up her glasses and nodding firmly.
"Thanks," Janice said softly. "For everything," she quickly added, glancing back at the stream with embarrassment.
"You don't ever need to thank me for caring, Janice," Mel said firmly. "I . . . I always will," Mel admitted cautiously, thinking of a certain German doctor.
Janice nodded, letting the welcome words wash over her.
"Well, you still have my thanks," Janice said softly. "And firewood, if you want it," she suddenly added, glancing back at the stream. "I've got lots."
Melinda laughed. Janice smiled at the wonderful sound.
"You know, Mel, it occurred to me that you have an uncanny habit of showing up at my camp sites," Janice said.
"Is that a complaint, Dr. Covington?" Melinda challenged as they entered the camp and stopped.
"No, not at all. Just a grateful observation, Miss . . . Doctor Pappas," Janice corrected herself with a warm smile and a gentle squeeze of the Southerner's hand.
They gazed into each other's eyes for a long moment.
"Uh . . . you must be tired," Melinda finally said, glancing away, still thinking of that German.
"Ah, a little. But I'm not really sleepy. Think you'll be able to salvage any sleep tonight?"
"No, not at all," Mel said bluntly. Janice grinned.
"Do you want to sit down a bit?" Janice suddenly asked, motioning towards the table, not wanting to say good-night just yet.
Mel nodded with a smile, not wanting to say good-night just yet.
"You hungry?" Janice asked, never letting go of Mel's hand as they sat across the table from each other.
"No," Mel answered firmly. "And I may never eat again," Mel announced with a grimace, making Janice chuckle.
"Lee will be crushed. He's an aspiring chef," Janice mentioned.
"Christine seems quite taken with him," Mel said with a pleased grin.
"Lee's a bit odd, but a good man with a good heart," Janice said with conviction.
"Well, it seems they are made for each other then," Mel said, looking into the archaeologist's eyes a long moment. Clearing her throat, she glanced away and added "she hasn't been serious about anyone since Larry."
"Larry who?"
"Underwood."
"No way!" Janice said with surprise at the mention of the junkyard owner and her old Sunday drinking buddy. Mel nodded. "What happened?" Janice asked nervously, suddenly dreading the worse.
"He found out his first love was widowed in the war and they got back together."
"Mary Anne?"
Mel nodded.
"He told me about her. He always thought he screwed up by not telling her how he felt. I'm glad he got his second chance," Janice said thoughtfully. "But Christine? Was she really serious about him?"
Mel nodded, pushing up her glasses.
"Wow. How the hell did they meet? It wasn't like he'd show up in her circles, or she'd go explore the junk yard," Janice asked pondering the unlikely pairing. "You didn't do some match making did you?"
Mel's eyes dropped uncomfortably. She wanted to avoid anything that could possibly ruin this time together but it was going to come up eventually. And didn't her grandmother say ‘take the bull by the horns?' Dear Lord, I must really be desperate to actually take her advice, Melinda thought uneasily.
"Well, uh, not intentionally. They got to know each other at my wedding."
"Oh," Janice said. "Did he wear a tie?" Janice asked absently as she let go of Mel's hand, startling the Southerner.
"Uh . . . yes, a very nice tie," Mel said uneasily, noting Janice's eyes avoiding hers as she nodded. An awkward silence fell between them.
Mel's heart pounded as she plowed ahead. "Janice, he also wore a nice suit but I never got married."
Janice looked up with surprise.
"He . . . Michael decided he needed a little more time before settling down," Mel said with a sigh as her eyes dropped to the table.
"He decided this at your wedding?" Janice asked with amazement, getting an uncomfortable nod from Mel.
"Jesus Christ! Couldn't he have had that little epiphany before the fucking wedding?!?" Janice snapped with irritation.
Mel eyebrows furrowed curiously. Of all the reactions she could have possibly imagined, that was not one of them.
"Uh, well, at least he didn't have it right after the vows. It saved me the trouble of a messy divorce. Though it would have avoided the fighting at the wedding."
Janice looked at her questioningly.
"Uh, there was a little altercation at the altar as I was leaving with my grandparents. Between Michael and Larry and Christine. But they never told me why. And I suspect I really don't want to know," Mel said with a heavy sigh as she pushed up her glasses.
An uncomfortable silence fell between the two a moment before Janice timidly asked "Did you . . . love him?" When blue eyes met green, Janice quickly blurted "I'm sorry. That's not fair, I know you thought . . ."
"No."
Janice's eyebrows furrowed. She was going to say something but held back and looked at the table.
Melinda took a deep breath, needing to explain.
"Janice, I wanted a child," Mel said simply, though her emotions after Janice's death were far from simple.
"Michael was intelligent, handsome, he always treated me very well. And most importantly, he was going to be transferred to Washington and out of my life within a few months," she said, staring at a button on Janice's shirt. "I became pregnant."
Mel glanced up and saw the quiet archaeologist's jaw clench. Her eyes dropped uneasily as she continued.
"I had every intention of raising my child alone, despite the problems that would have brought. But I didn't expect him to start talking about having children. He didn't seem the type to want to settle down," Mel said, shaking her head wearily, wishing she had trusted her instincts.
"I never told him that I was pregnant, but he suddenly started discussing children," she said with a cringe. "How he wanted to have a bunch of them someday. How he wanted to raise them and teach them, and play with them. The things I wanted too. He was a good man and I began to feel I was being selfish to plan on denying my child his father, and this man his child," Mel said.
"I couldn't do that to him. He was a friend. I thought he would be a good father and I wanted more children. Marrying him was an obvious solution. So, I made up my mind," Mel said, with a weak shrug.
"But it was such a mistake," Mel admitted candidly, now able to clearly reflect on that emotionally devastating time. "Everyone realized that, except me. Though Michael only realized it at the last possible moment," she said, shaking her head with a heavy sigh.
Daring to look into those green eyes, Melinda was surprised and relieved to find compassion. Mel swallowed hard as she blinked back tears.
"Does he know about JJ?" Janice softly asked with a slight cringe.
"Yes. But he's stayed away. He's worried about the disgrace of having a bastard child," Mel said tightly.
The look of compassion was gone, immediately replaced by one of anger.
"Jesus Christ!! This ‘good man' of yours is a fucking bastard!" Janice erupted, making Mel wince. "Your son . . . is a precious gift," she declared with great emotion as she took the Southerner's hand in hers.
Tears fell. Mel thought so too.
"I have to say, I'm really glad JJ takes after you," Janice said, squeezing Mel's hand.
"Poor boy," Mel said, shaking her head.
"Not at all. Surviving all the trouble he seems to stumble into, I'd say a very lucky boy," Janice countered with a small grin, making Mel chuckle weakly.
"He's very taken with you, you know," Mel offered softly as she wiped her eyes beneath her glasses.
"Obviously, not just lucky but intelligent too."
Mel smiled and gazed at the archaeologist warmly. Yes, he is, she thought as her eyes fell to Janice's smile. Mel suddenly wondered if Greta made Janice smile like that . . . or laugh, or feel as special as she truly was.
"So . . . what will you do now?" Mel asked cautiously as she gently pulled her hand away from Janice's, startling the archaeologist.
"Uh . . ." Janice said glancing at the retreating hand with concern. "For the first time in eight years, I have to figure that out," Janice said softly, studying Mel's disturbingly neutral face before her gaze dropped dejectedly to the table.
If you don't expect anything, you won't get disappointed, Covington, she reminded herself with difficulty, already having indulged in those dangerous emotions accompanying hope.
"What about Faith?" Mel asked softly, surprising Janice, who cringed slightly.
"I suppose, I could keep looking. But that wouldn't be fair to the boys. . . ."
"Janice, they'd go anywhere with you. They wouldn't want you to give up because of them."
"I know. But she's five. Almost six, now," Janice said with a heavy sigh, feeling very tired.
Mel quietly listened.
"I saw her, you know. At the temple," Janice said, remembering the image with a sad smile. "She has golden-red hair that seemed to glow in the sunlight. And her eyes . . . she has my color eyes," Janice said with a bit of pride. "And she has the most beautiful smile when she laughs," Janice said with wonder, looking into blue eyes which were rimmed with tears.
"And she was laughing, Mel. You know what that means?"
Mel quietly shook her head no as she wiped the tears from her eyes.
"She was happy. My girl was happy," Janice said simply, finally taking some solace from that fact. Taking a deep breath, Janice continued.
"And now, I have two boys to try and keep from killing each other or causing too much damage," Janice said with a shrug and small grin at that comforting thought, which helped mend her broken heart. "That should keep me pretty busy."
"And Greta," Mel added weakly with a pained smile as she pushed her glasses up with a sniff.
"Huh?"
"What about Greta?" Mel asked, certainly hoping Greta was helping with the boys.
"Uh . . . well, I'm guessing Greta might get a job at Athens General. She made a great impression with the surgeons," Janice said with a pleased smile. "She really needed that," she added thoughtfully.
"Well, she is the most proficient surgeon I have ever observed," Mel graciously offered, deciding not to question Greta's level of involvement with the children.
Janice chuckled softly.
"I'm sure she will be delighted by such high praise from a respected colleague," Janice said with a grin.
"So, you'll be staying in Athens then," Mel said, her polite smile firmly in place.
"Uh, well, I really don't know," Janice said, surprised by Mel's conclusion. "I suppose I should ask the boys where they'd like to live," Janice said and smiled at the thought. Daniel would probably declare he wanted to live in Antarctica just to get a rise out of Paul.
"And Greta, of course," Mel added, making Janice's eyebrows furrow.
"Huh?"
"Well, it wouldn't very well make sense to ask the boys and not Greta."
"Why should I ask Greta where we should live?"
"Good lord, Janice. You can't possibly expect her to just agree to whatever the three of you decide," Mel responded with amazement.
"Why the hell not?"
"There's really no need to curse, Janice," Melinda said testily.
"Well until I find out what the hell you are . . . " Janice countered, then stopped and blinked.
"Oh. OH!" Janice repeated with wide eyes of understanding.
"So she just slipped your mind?? Janice, I must say, I am rather disappointed," Melinda scolded, pushing her glasses up.
"You are?" Janice asked, with a grin that really irritated the Southern lady.
"I certainly am. Greta deserves far more consideration than you are giving her."
"She does?" Janice asked, her stupid grin still in place.
"Janice Covington, she obviously cares for you. Doesn't that mean anything to you?!?" Melinda asked, aghast at the callous attitude.
Janice's stupid grin quickly disappeared.
"Yes. Yes it does, Mel," Janice said very seriously.
"And she cares more than she should. I just can't give her what she wants, and she knows it . . . now," she said guiltily. "I just wish she had said something a while ago. I could have saved her some time, and a bad back."
Mel's eyebrows furrowed.
"From the cot. . . ."
Mel grimaced.
"Ah hell," Janice exhaled with frustration, rolling her eyes. "We were never ‘intimate,' Mel."
"So kissing isn't considered intimate anymore?" Mel countered.
"You saw that?" Janice asked with surprise, getting an uncomfortable nod. "She kissed me, Mel. I had no idea she really felt like that."
"Surely you must have. . . ."
"No."
"Not even a . . . ?"
"Nope."
Melinda looked at Janice for a moment, then sighed, shaking her head. "Poor Greta."
"For crying out loud, it's your fault," Janice interrupted defensively, grasped Mel's hand, and gazed steadily into blue eyes.
The anxious Southerner remained silent.
"It's your fault Melinda Pappas, because I gave my heart to you and there's no way I can get it back," Janice confessed. "It will always be yours."
Mel blinked at the archaeologist, hearing the words she desperately wanted to hear. Dear Lord, if this were a dream and she woke now, she would have to kill someone.
"Well," Melinda said and cleared her throat. "My heart has always been and will always be yours, Janice Covington," she responded. "We belong together," Mel offered simply, gazing into intense green eyes as they held hands.
Their hearts pounded with anticipation.
"It won't be easy, Mel," Janice warned. Mel needed to understand what she was in for, Janice thought, wincing at the thought of Mel making a rash decision and regretting it later.
"It wasn't before, Janice."
"Really, Mel. You really should take some time and think about it before deciding anything," Janice argued, letting go of the Southerner's hand.
"I don't need to think about it," Mel said with irritation. "We belong together," she reasserted confidently.
"It's more than just us now, Mel. I have two boys . . . ," Janice offered but was interrupted.
"And I have one," she said with exasperation. "Apparently your competitive streak is still very much intact," Mel muttered, shaking her head.
Janice rolled her eyes. "Mel, life with concentration camp survivors won't be easy," Janice added softly. "And think of your son. . . ."
"Good Lord, Janice, I am. I want you in his life," Mel responded with amazement. "And don't you dare assume that I am being naive or foolish with his future just because I love you. I know it will be difficult and I may not fully understand just how difficult. But I believe with all my heart that our love will be strong enough to endure whatever we have to face. As long as we're together. All five of us."
Janice eyed the impassioned Southerner a moment, letting that tenacious seed of hope, lovingly nurtured by the tall woman, spring up from beneath her blanket of doubt, tightly woven over years of heartbreak. But there were still problems, big problems, Covington reminded herself.
"You are aware, I have this little problem of not being able to die?"
Mel rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. "Yes, Janice. And we'll deal with it, together. But will you please stop being so stubborn and just agree that I am right? Because I know you know that I am."
Janice eyed the determined Southerner, not ready to agree just yet. It wasn't that she was stubborn, OK, perhaps it was. But there were still too many good points to make, Janice thought as her eyes narrowed in challenge.
"I still like poker."
Mel was surprised at the change of Janice's tone, then, with some difficulty forced a small, polite smile instead of one of sheer joy.
"Well, as long as you are not breaking any laws, Janice, I don't see a problem."
"I still like beer."
"My position on beer breath has not changed."
"I still enjoy my cigars."
"Not in the house, you won't."
"So in the house, I will?"
"You are not going to smoke in the house. Is that clearer?"
"You're crazy," Janice offered bluntly, gazing at the amazingly brave woman who dared to love her.
"We all have our flaws, Janice," Melinda said with a shrug as she watched the archaeologist stand.
Planting her hands on the table, Janice leaned towards the Southerner and challenged "You are going to ignore every single obstacle between us, aren't you, Dr. Pappas?"
"Obstacles, Dr. Covington?" Melinda asked feigning ignorance, as she looked expectantly at Janice's lips.
"Thank God you are crazy," Janice whispered with emotion.
"I love you too, Janice," Mel said softly as she reached out and slowly pulled her soulmate into a tender kiss.
As they quietly retreated from the tent opening, Daniel looked at his smiling brother curiously.
"You know what this means, don't you?" Paul whispered with excitement.
"They love each other?" Daniel said with a warm smile and sigh.
"No stupid, we might actually to get to learn how to use the whip!"