Heaven’s Gate
90 A Light in the Window
My patterns had changed over the past year. Getting up each morning to bake bread in a bakery was an earlier job than my normal four-thirty rising. I knew Matthew would be getting up and I hoped someone went with him to the bakery. I whispered, ‘I love you, son. Bake well.’
I figured I might as well follow that advice myself. I went into the kitchen and started a batch of dough. I’d become spoiled over the past year with my big mixer and my arms felt the tension of mixing the ingredients by hand. I glanced out the kitchen window and noticed a light on next door.
Shit! I hadn’t even thought about Jessica’s parents. I didn’t know if her mother was here or in Paris, but Ford, her father, had never left. I wiped my hands and went across the double driveway to knock on their door.
The man who opened the door was different than the Mr. Barnes I’d always known. He looked… old. His eyes were deeply lined, his hair gray. Dark shadows turned his eyes into hollow gaps in his face. Damn! He wasn’t that much older than my dad and my dad was only fifty-two. But he looked… Fuck! My dad is dead. Fifty-two or ninety-two. Dead is all the same.
Ford looked at me, taking a moment to recognize me. He didn’t say anything, but left the door open and turned back toward their kitchen. I followed him.
I’d been in here a few hundred times over the years. It always was a place of dread where Drew might be waiting behind any corner, ready to torment me in one way or another. Or Jessica might be waiting there to pull me into the pantry and protect me from her brother and my sister. I glanced toward the pantry door.
“She’s not there,” Ford said quietly. “Neither of them.” I looked at him and saw him pour whiskey into a tumbler of ice and take a long drink. There were dirty dishes in the sink and I decided to just do something useful. I ran water and started to wash them. I reached for a greasy plate and spotted Ford’s old handgun on the counter. A box of shells was sitting next to it. It was dirty and a rubber band held it together. The gun was covered with dust except where it had recently been handled.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I haven’t loaded it yet, if that’s what you’re asking,” Ford said. “Have you heard anything? Anything definite?”
“No,” I said.
“Her mother managed to get through to me about two hours ago. She’s frantic. She can’t get a flight to the US. Everything is shut down,” Ford said as he continued to nurse his drink. It was four-thirty in the morning. He had the look of a man who had been drinking all night and was disappointed that he was still conscious, not understanding why the liquor had no effect.
“I got hold of her hotel about ten last night,” I said. “There was no answer in her room and the desk clerk said there was no reason for them to check. They were very busy.”
“They say people are still alive.”
“We have a volunteer fire department in Corazón. Four of our guys and one woman left for New York at noon to help in the rescue efforts. I… I guess they lost a lot of firefighters yesterday.”
“Was she… in the building?”
“She was supposed to be. They were going public when the markets opened. Only the markets never opened.”
“Ellen and I had a buy order in for five thousand shares.” I finished washing the dishes and started a pot of coffee. I sat down across the table from Heaven’s father and tried desperately to think of something comforting to say in the bleakness of the gray dawn.
“I was supposed to be with her. She didn’t have a bodyguard since she fired Amy over… over the photos. But Dad… I had to come here instead of going to be with her. To protect her,” I said. Ford stood and walked to the sink. He dumped the rest of his drink, rinsed the glass and poured a cup of coffee.
“I was angry with you,” Ford said. “I know it was irrational, but I blamed you for taking my son away. When Ellen and I visited him out in Iowa he’d hardly speak to us. Then he joined the army and got run over by a fucking tank while he was asleep. Jessica left us and took Ellen with her. I blamed you for that, too. I know that’s not right. But I couldn’t blame my daughter or my wife, could I? No more than I could blame my son for being a lazy, mean little bastard.”
“I understand,” I said. I’m not sure I did. Who can understand another person’s emotions?
“Your dad and I were friends. It was strained for a while when everything seemed like it was falling apart,” Ford said as he sipped black coffee. He didn’t offer me any so I got up and poured myself a cup. I’d need to go back soon and knead the bread. “Did you know he sold this acre to me to build a house on? Your grandfather threw a fit, but your dad said he owned this plot now. It might have been the first time he ever really stood up to his father. Not sure the old man ever forgave him. These past couple of years, he and I would get together about once a month or I’d go over to play cards with him and Marilyn and Anna. Funny. I had no one living with me unless Ellen was coming for a visit. He had two beautiful, happy women with him. I guess you’re used to that kind of thing. It still seems strange to me.”
“I know our lifestyle isn’t common. But they loved each other intensely,” I said.
“What are you going to do with her house?” Ford asked.
“Oh. I guess Mom will finish the sale and then she and Anna will still come to Corazón. She loves being around her grandkids. They were going to live in one of our duplexes while their new home was being built in the village. I don’t know if Mom and Anna will want to revise the plans or not. I just want them down there where I can take care of them.”
“I meant Jessica’s house.”
“I… I don’t think I have anything to do with it. When we know for sure, I’ll help you any way I can.”
“It will belong to you,” Ford said. “That’s what her will says. You and your family. What do you call it? Casa? Her will says all her assets are to be transferred to Casa del Fuego. That’s what she told me the last time she was here.”
“Ford, I didn’t know that. That doesn’t seem fair to you and Ellen.”
“We have nothing to complain about. Even as strained as our relationship was at times, Jessica took good care of her parents. She paid off our mortgage. She bought Ellen’s apartment in Paris. She gave us a portion of all her earnings. Hell! The money we were using to buy shares in her company was money she’d given us.”
I was stunned with that news. Why would Jessica give everything to us? Was she planning to join our casa?
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