Joy and Tiers (56 page)

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Authors: Mary Crawford

BOOK: Joy and Tiers
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Slumping down in his seat, Marcus takes a long sip of his Red Bull. He starts to mess around with his cell phone. Rogue is shredding a napkin into a small pile of confetti in front of her as she’s making a concerted effort not to have any eye contact with Marcus. 

I watch as Marcus’s eyes fill with pain.” Rogue, please look at me,” he pleads. As she raises her eyes to meet his, he continues. “I never meant to hurt you. I was only teasing. The only thing I’ve ever wanted for you is for you to be happy. I just didn’t want you to miss the fact that this guy could be good for you.”

Rogue’s expression softens and she reaches out to ruffle his hair. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it, Marc. But, good Lord! Could you take half a second to think about what comes flying out of your mouth? It’s frightening sometimes. One of these days, you’re going to get yourself into some real trouble. How many times have I told you that you’re not responsible for my happiness? I’ll figure it out—eventually. Until then, I’ve got bigger issues going on and I’m going to need you as my best friend. So, don’t screw that up,” Rogue says as she leans in and kisses Marcus on the cheek. “By the way, I accept your non-apology, apology.”

“Hey, I said I was sorry!” Marcus protests.

I catch his eye and shake my head slightly. He glances at me and whispers, “I didn’t?” I shake my head again. “Oh Geez!” he murmurs “No wonder she’s ticked at me.”

Marcus clears his throat, “I’m sorry I’ve been talking much more than I’ve been listening today and I’m sorry I embarrassed you. You called me for help and I haven’t really been there for you today. What do you need from me?”

Rogue’s eyes fill up with tears as she replies, “That’s all I wanted Marcus. I just needed to know you really heard me, because that little drama we just went through is nothing compared to what I’m about to tell you. So, I need to know that you’re going to be a grown-up about this. I need the Marcus that I can count on to be my rock not the one that can burp the alphabet.”

Not for the first time in this conversation, I begin to wonder if my presence is intrusive and wrong. I’m feeling very much like a third wheel. I softly clear my throat because they seem to have forgotten that I’m even there. “I have some business I could do in my car, if it would make you feel more comfortable,” I offer.

Rogue looks panicked. “No, Tristan, please don’t leave. I want you to be here when I explain the situation to Marcus. He’s probably going to have questions I don’t know the answer to,” she says as her eyes plead. She grabs my hand and holds on tightly. “Please stay.” 

“I just didn’t want to intrude on your private conversations,” I explain looking back and forth between Marcus and Rogue.

“I suspect there’s going to be very little that’ll be private between us over the next few months. I think we’re probably going to be living out of each other’s pockets. I think after today none of our lives are ever going to be the same. You may both regret the day you ever met me, “Rogue responds frankly.

I look directly at Marcus, “How do you feel about me being all up in your business?” I ask.

 Marcus shrugs as he replies, “If Rogue is cool with it, I’m down with it too. You seem like a straight shooter to me. I know this goes without saying, but I’ll say it anyway. If you hurt Rogue in any way, you’ll have to deal with me.”

“Understood.” I state. “I would never intentionally hurt her, but she’s going to be thrust into the middle of a very emotionally charged situation. Things could get dicey and communication may break down. It’s going to be tough on everyone. We’ll all have to work hard to pull together instead of apart.”

Marcus looks back and forth between us and lets out an exasperated sigh. “Will you two stop talking in code and just tell me what’s going on?” he demands.

I lean over and murmur into Rogue’s ear, “Relax, you can do this. I’m right here if you need some help. Remember, Marcus is a friendly audience.”

Rogue squeezes my hand and takes a shaky breath as she says, “Remember that strange picture of me on BrainsRSexy.com?”

Marcus nods. “I don’t know why you object to that picture so much. I think you look amazing in it.”

“Oh I agree. I think both the dress and the makeup are phenomenal. But, it’s not me.”

Marcus squints at the picture as he comments,” I don’t get it. You go on lots of modeling gigs where you wear other people’s clothes. I’ve never seen you act this way before. What’s the big deal?”

 “No, I don’t mean I don’t like the style. I mean it literally is not me,” Rogue clarifies.

Marcus picks up the picture and studies it more closely. After a couple of minutes he carefully sets the picture down. I notice his hands are trembling.

He looks back and forth between Rogue and I. He looks like he’s hoping for an early arrival of April Fools’ Day. He performs a cursory search of the room for cameras as he demands, “Are you guys punkin’ me?”

Rogue is squeezing my hand so tight my fingers are numb. I’m a little awestruck by this small act of trust.

We both vigorously shake our heads no.

 Marcus stands up aggressively and grabs the front of my shirt as he growls, “Just what kind of scam are you trying to pull here? I thought you were going to look out for Rogue.”

Rogue looks a little shell-shocked at his outburst. Yet, I’m really not. I’d be suspicious as hell too. In this day and age, it is remarkably easy to doctor photographs.

“Marcus Taylor Brolin! Apologize right now!” Rogue demands.

“Rogue, there’s really no reason for him to apologize. He is just worried about you. He doesn’t know me from Adam. For all he knows, I could be some world-class scammer. I’m not. But, he doesn’t know that. He doesn’t know I routinely work on projects with the Department of Homeland Security and the Secret Service. I have the highest level of security clearance that exists outside of the president’s detail. I’m not going to jeopardize that just to mess with all of you.”

“Well La-Dee-La Mr. Super Secret Agent,” Marcus snarls. “What are you doing with the likes of us?”

“I’m trying to help solve a mystery,” I respond quietly.

“Why would you take on a case like Rogue? She’s got no money for you to drain.”

The corner of my mouth quirks up at the audaciousness of his suggestion. This statement even earns a strangled giggle from Rogue. She sighs as she cautions, “Seriously, Marc. Just stop. You’re burying yourself a really big hole here. Tristan is on our side. Please just try to listen without marking me up like a fire hydrant.”

Marcus makes a face as he responds, “That’s disgusting Ro.”

“Yeah? Then I suggest you sit your butt down and hear us out Macho Boy,” she answers with an arched eyebrow.

Reluctantly, Marcus lets go of my shirt and sits back down in his chair. He takes a long drink of his Red Bull, before setting it back on the table and scooting it away. He picks up the picture and studies it again. “You’re right. Whoever this is, it isn’t Rogue. This person has a scar over her left eyebrow.”

I’m impressed. I’ve looked at those pictures for almost three weeks and hadn’t noticed that discrepancy.

“So, who is this mystery woman?” Marcus asks impatiently.

“We think she’s probably my twin,” Rogue announces with more clarity than I expected.

Marcus looks at me with skepticism as he probes, “You think or you know? Because as far as I know, Rogue isn’t even adopted. This could all be some elaborate identity theft.”

I can’t help but smile at the irony of his accusation. It seems as if we’ve now come full circle. “Funny you should say that. Because, that’s exactly the puzzle Ivy asked me to figure out. She was trying to determine whether Rogue was trying to steal her identity,” I explain.

Marcus’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline and his job drops to the floor. “What?” he exclaims. “That’s insane! Rogue is the most honest person I know. She would never do anything like that.”

“I don’t believe that Ivy Montclaire would either. We think that they were victims of a weird twin telepathic phenomenon which resulted in a computer glitch. This caused their dating profiles to merge online. If it weren’t for that bizarre coincidence, they might not have ever found out about the existence of the other,” I clarify.

“So, does this Ivy know about Rogue?” Marcus asks.

“Rogue and I just put those pieces of the puzzle together a few minutes ago, based on additional information she gave me. I haven’t had a chance to tell Ivy. I think it’s something that I should do in person,” I state.

“I think I should be there in case she wants to meet me,” Rogue suggests as she squeezes my hand.

“I don’t know if that’s such a great idea,” I caution. “This news might come as a huge shock and she may not be ready to meet with you yet. I don’t want you to be disappointed. I do a fair amount of skip tracing and adoption reunions and the one thing I can predict is they’re always unpredictable. They are often emotionally charged and volatile—especially if she’s not expecting you to be there.”

Rogue turns in her chair so she’s completely facing me. She grabs my other hand and looks directly at me as she pleads, “I don’t know how to explain this, but, I have to be there when you tell her. I’ll bring Marcus for emotional support so you can focus on taking care of Ivy. Now that I know that she’s out there, I can’t ignore her existence. I’ve got to see tangible proof of that connection. I know you don’t understand and right now I can’t adequately explain myself. It’s just something I’ve always felt.”

I’ve got my own reasons for completely understanding where she’s coming from. So, I merely nod and ask her, “Does Saturday work for you?”

 

 

 

 

To all to the people who have overcome seemingly insurmountable fear. and accomplished the impossible.

To all those standing in the wings helping to make those dreams possible.

 

 

Leaving the stifling environment of the rental car, I stand and stretch. Give me a crowded subway any day, at least I don’t have to drive. Still, as I look around at the tall pine trees surrounding me and spot a field of wilting sunflowers, I can’t believe it’s fall and everything isn’t buried in snow and concrete. As I take a deep breath of crisp clean autumn air, I decide Oregon isn’t completely without charm. I’m not sure I’d want to live here, but it’s a nice place to visit.

I peek into the darkness of the big red barn and yell to my sister, “Heather, I don’t understand why you had to move to the middle of nowhere. I mean, Oregon is nice and all but, you can get perfectly good greenery at a florist that doesn’t have bugs. Do I even want to know what all this dirt is doing to your shoes?” I am immediately accosted by a spider-web. I love Charlotte’s Web as much as the next girl, but come on…farm life is not really the utopia I was lead to believe as a child. I still can’t wrap my brain around the fact that my somewhat over-the-top stylish big sister has chosen this quiet rural life. Last I knew, she pretty much hated the whole animal kingdom—Okay to be fair she didn’t really hate them, she was just so scared of them. She wanted them to live on another planet. 

I take one more step and start to slip on some hay. Pardon the pun, but that’s just about the very last straw I can take. I steady myself and yell deeper into the barn, “This was all Tyler’s idea wasn’t it? Of course it was! He’s a guy. That explains it all right there. All men are imbecilic, moronic downright evil creatures. I don’t know why you had to go and marry yourself one. For God’s sake the man isn’t even here. He just
had
to go play G.I. Joe over in the desert.”

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