Read Anna Marie Sorenson's Secret Affair Online
Authors: Lynn Young
claiming my cat was terrorizing her dog and a kid of another neighbor and that I
had better come quickly before they called the animal patrol.
I went over to the neighbor’s house where I found Stuart cornered in a
cage, one woman comforting her poodle whose white coat was extremely
manicured and sculpted, and another trying to comfort her son who was doing a
very fine job of screaming on top of his lungs. The woman claimed that Stuart
had chased her pet poodle around the block a few times, and threatened to sue me
for damages. The poodle, I was told, was a pure breed show dog, and claimed
that because Stuart had terrorized him, the dog might be traumatized for life and
unfit for showing. The mother was also threatening suit, saying that my cat had
snuck into their house, chased the boy all around the house, and only stopped
when Stuart spotted their pet hamster. Stuart somehow got the cage open and
caught the poor hamster. But when he got the creature in his mouth and began to
chew, he found he didn’t like the taste of a hamster and promptly spat the
hamster back out in the cage, although much more mangled. When the boy saw
what had happened, he began to scream and, from what I understand, had not
stopped screaming since.
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I offered as much apology as possible, while tucking Stuart under my
arm, and walked back to my condo, scolding him that while he had every right to
be angry with me for abandoning him so ignominiously, he should have had
more sense than to take it out on innocent hamsters, pure breed poodles, and little
boys.
I’ve been holding my breath for the past few weeks, waiting for a server
to knock on my door and dropping a letter at my feet that would announce that
my neighborhood has brought a lawsuit against my cat and me.
I guess this is all I have to write about. I hope you found it somewhat
interesting. If you rather that I did not write to you, please let me know.
Yours,
Sincerely,
Regards. –Anna Marie.
Somewhere in the remote mountains of Pakistan, Dallas dropped his gear behind the
small hill of caves. He looked around to make sure that they would not be spotted for the night if they set up camp. Then he gave the sign for his men to unload their gear and to start setting up.
There were four of them and they had been following the movements of a very small terrorist cell that was currently hiding in the no-man’s land of Pakistan.
Two hours later, long after nightfall and they had had their meals, he pulled out a letter from the inside pocket of his coat.
“Hey, is that another letter from her?” one of the men asked.
“Yeah, its her.” Dallas began to read it to himself.
“What’s she say?”
“Read it,” another man said.
“Is her and her cat still not speaking to one another?”
Dallas glanced up at his men. He knew better than to bring something personal along
with him on an assignment. But he figured it was okay, as long as they didn’t run into difficulties, like coming across the men they were following or he or one of his men got captured by one of the warlords who would just as easily turn them over to one of the Islamic extremist groups. Anyway, they were to ship out in couple of days by a helicopter that would take them back to the base in Germany.
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It wasn’t the first time he had brought a copy of Anna Marie’s letter with him. He had originally done so back when they were in Egypt, a photocopy of it, leaving the original back at the base. They had all been bored, exhausted, and tired of going ten days without modern amenities, especially hot showers, toilet, email, and cell phones. It had been the third letter that he had received from Anna Marie. He had read it out loud to his men to break the monotony of their desert reconnaissance. After being weeks without television, video games, DVD movies, and the Internet, they had appreciated Anna Marie’s small amusing tales of home life.
The second time had been during a mission near the border of Algeria and Morocco.
When they had completed their mission and saw that another letter was waiting for him, they had all insisted that he read it to them, as if they had wanted an update on her neighbors’ persecution against her fat cat, her continual harassment from the county board of supervisors over the library’s improvement, and her sister’s latest insensitivity.
Dallas now realized why he took the risk of bringing along a copy of the letter with him on their missions. It provided a much needed relief from the grim life and death that they constantly faced, and added some comic relief to the abject terror and horror that they sometimes came across in their work.
Dear Dallas,
I hope you’re doing okay and this letter finds you safe and in a warm, dry
bed.
The men grunted and huddled further into their jackets against the night chill, listening intently.
Stuart, the cat, I’m afraid, is still under house arrest, although he is
allowed out in on the patio. He continues to remain unrepentant for terrorizing
the neighborhood.
The men laughed.
I notice that other cats around the neighborhood show him much respect
and deference. And, he, it seems, expects it from them. When he’s sitting out on
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the patio, I’ve seen a few times through the windows the other cats come onto the
patio. They cautiously approach him, then lay down and expose their bellies to
them. I swear I’ve seen him a couple of times nod his great leonine head, giving
them permission to get up. Then they go up to him and lick his face. And he
receives all this as if he has every right to. His attitude reminds me of a Mafia
Don, expecting to be kissed on the back of his hand by all who greets him. I
would probably get him a pinky ring if he had fingers.
As you know, the county’s fair is coming up. And, I’m afraid, horror of
horrors, my sister has managed to charm the head of the fair to appoint her in
charge of the Open House Festival, which is where the big wineries and
restaurants and important townspeople get together for food and wine tasting and
silent auction before the official opening of the fair.
The men groaned. Through the other letters, they had become familiar with Pepper’s
tendency for overbearing autocracy.
As you can imagine, I’m afraid Pepper quickly managed to throw the
whole affair in an uproar on the first day on the job. The first thing she did was
insult all the participating chefs by requiring them to submit their menu in
advance, not so much for approval, to make sure there was no discontinuity or
repetition. Instantly three chefs pulled out, one of them being Charlie Harrelson
who is the food editor for the magazine,
San Francisco
. The remaining chefs did submit their menus. As it turned out, all of them were exactly the same: Kraft®
macaroni and cheese, canned fruit salad, MacDonald’s® hamburger, and frozen
apple pie.
The men laughed raucously.
Pepper was ready to fire the lot of them, but cooler heads prevailed. The
chairman of the opening festival convinced her that she as the star chef for the
evening, would be the guest speaker. Of course, Pepper took up the offer, and
assigned one of her assistants to oversee the other chefs. Actually, the chairman
was quite clever in this maneuver. He knew she could never pass up the option to
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be the star of anything, and knew that her workers were a bit more reasonable
and accommodating, and Pepper would be too absorbed in her speech to
interfere.
Also, always in search of a new and challenging project, Pepper has
decided that she would decide to take me on as her latest project and teach me to
cook. Now, mind you, she has taken on this endeavor a few times in our lives,
and each time, has been a disaster. One time, I almost burnt down her kitchen. I
was banished from her kitchen for two months.
But she is so insistent that I start settling down and thinks that if I learn
how to cook halfway decently, I might start attracting some men. Not
surprisingly, I have been dodging Pepper’s calls for the past several days.
I’m afraid this is all I can write until next time. It’s the end of my lunch
break and my staff is clamoring at my office door for our weekly meeting.
Regards. Take care.
Anna Marie
After Dallas finished reading the letter, he reached with one hand in his backpack and pulled out a vial and poured liquid over the letter. Instantly the solution made the ink run all over the paper. Then he lit the paper with his lighter and the paper disintegrated without burning.
“I one time went out with a chef,” one corporal said. “And I thought artists were hard to live with. One time I came home, you know, I wanted to surprise her, and she was in the kitchen making my coming-home dinner, and I snuck up on her. I don’t know what she was making, some kind of complicated desert with this caramel shell. When I touched her, she jumped ten feet, and then yelled at me for the next hour, telling me I had no appreciation for art, that I ruined her whole presentation, and that I ruined the whole evening, and the whole weekend she had planned for us. Ended up sleeping at my brother’s house until I shipped out the following week,” he ended glumly.
“Women are just plain nuts,” another private said.
As the men concurred and exchanged war stories about women, Dallas laid back on his
sack and stared up at the stars twinkling above them, thinking about the next time he would get to see his brother and his wife, his niece and nephew, maybe his parents. And Anna Marie.
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Pepper called Anna Marie at her office to tell her that she was having a dinner at her restaurant in downtown Fourth Street for her family and friends.
“Come and join us.” Pepper made it a request.
This made Anna Marie raise her eyebrows. Requests were uncharacteristic of her sister.
She went through life ordering people.
“I was planning on having a quiet night, Pepper…”
“I promise, Anna, it’ll be just a few of us. Quiet, restful, lots of wine.”
Pepper was never restful in her life. And she was trying to bribe her for a reason. All the more reason to avoid the dinner.
“I really need to get home…”
“Cameron really wants you there.”
“Cameron? He does? Why?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I think he likes you best out of all of my family and friends.” Pepper said it with some resentfulness. “He says you’re the only one who doesn’t give him a headache inside of ten minutes of being in your company. I really think he would prefer you there. It’s the only way he can stand being with my friends and colleagues. If you won’t come to the restaurant tonight for me, then do it for him. Oh, by the way, I think Dal is going to show up, too.” Anna couldn’t breath for a moment. “Are…Are you sure?”
“I don’t know. Cam doesn’t know either. He got a late night call last night from
Chechnya, of all places, from him. He said he’ll try to make it tonight.”
If he did come into town and went to the restaurant, would he expect her there? Anna Marie shook her head and told herself not to go there.
“I really should go home, Pepper…”
“Just two hours. That’s all you really need to stay. Come at six, and go home at eight o’clock. Even seven-thirty. I promise I won’t make a fuss when you do leave. Please, Anna, do this for me. Do this for Cameron.”
She knew she should have resisted, for the very reason that she couldn’t resist. But she suddenly wanted to see Dallas very badly. In the several months since she last saw him, she barely gave him any thought. But, now, knowing he was going to be in town, she craved the sight of him. Perhaps had Pepper not added Cameron’s name, she would have been able to stick Secret Affair 155
to her resolve to go home directly from work. But she liked Cameron. And now that she found out how much regard he had for her, it made it even harder to deny her sister.
“Alright. I’ll try to get there by six,” Anna said wearily.
When Anna Marie arrived fifteen minutes late to her sister’s restaurant, she found that her sister had been a little untruthful about the number of guests. There were at least thirty to forty of them. All were her friends and colleagues. When she entered the restaurant, it was loud and boisterous with waiters weaving in and out of people with trays full of food and drinks.
Pepper was dressed in her chef’s smock and was ordering her employees, her lungs at full volume, at the big open kitchen grill. Anna Marie stood in front of the area for several minutes, waiting for her sister to notice her. When Pepper continued to order her employees while frantically chopping, she went in search of Cameron.
He saw her from across the room and signaled to her. He handed her what looked to be a margarita in a pint glass.
He kissed her on the cheeks. “Hello, darling. Thank god you came. I needed to see at least one friendly face tonight.”
While sipping her drink, Anna Marie discreetly made a survey around the room. “Quite a crowd. Pepper assured me there would only be a few of us.”
“Yeah, well, you know your sister. She needs her fellow barracudas around to keep her teeth sharp. I’m hoping Dallas will be here tonight.”
She tried not to look too interested. “Oh, yes, Pepper told me he might come. So, he hasn’t shown up yet?”
“He should be calling pretty soon to tell me he’s arrived at SFO.” Then Cameron bent his head closer to her. “I have to warn you about something, Anna.”
Anna Marie’s eyes flew to his, startled, thinking that he had somehow found out about her and Dallas. “About what?”
“Pepper got you here to set you up with someone.”