903What if the Intersect had been...different? What if its negative effects had been much more immediate, plaguing Chuck from the get-go?
Chuck Amuck
EPILOGUE TWO
Unguarded Kisses
Three (more) months later
Morgan rubbed his hands on his apron, red staining the fabric. "Shit."
"Morgan, for a man with a gift for food, you sure make a mess," Zondra noted, pointing her chin at the stain. "But," she waved a tortilla chip in the air, "messy or not, you make a mean salsa. Folks will love this."
They were sitting side by side in the kitchen of El Compadre, successful restaurant, on the opposite side of the table from a woman who looked like Zondra. "Here, Aurora," Zondra said, dipping the chip into the salsa and scooping it, "take a bite." The chip was dripping salsa on the table. Aurora leaned in and opened her mouth. Zondra popped the chip in. Aurora crunched on it for a minute, her eyes brightening. "Mmmmm. You were right, Zondra, he's a wonder, your pocket rocket. Our new chef."
Zondra glanced at Morgan and saw him drop his head in embarrassment. "An undiscovered culinary genius, until I discovered him. I told you," she said to her older sister, "trust the Morg - you will be assimilated."
Aurora rolled her eyes. "You have been, Zondra. Who knew you could be so completely...nerded."
"You have no idea, Aurora. Every inch of me…" The sisters leaned toward each other.
"Whoa. Whoa. Okay. No frank sister talk when the topic is in the room, please," Morgan gushed out, his embarrassment growing. The sisters smiled at each other, Aurora's smile the same mysterious smile of Zondra's, the one Morgan loved but still did not understand.
Aurora laughed. "Don't worry, Morgan. She wouldn't tell tales unless she was bragging." Aurora waved her hands, gesturing out of the kitchen toward the dining room. "So, Morgan, we obviously have room for the rehearsal dinner, but what do folks want to eat?"
"They requested Zondra's enchilada recipe," Morgan said, "so I'll make that. But we'll throw in a bunch of other items. I've had lots of ideas."
Zondra reached over and put her hand on Morgan's shoulder. "I wish Mom had known you, Morgan. She'd have been crazy about you. She would also have thought you were crazy." Zondra leaned over and kissed Morgan. She looked around at the kitchen, then at her sister. "I shouldn't have sold you my half of the business all those years ago, Aurora. I know Mom wanted us to run it together. But I thought my…" she dropped her voice to a whisper, double-checking that no one else was in earshot, "...my life belonged to the CIA. Thanks for letting me buy back in, and for giving Morgan a shot in the kitchen."
Aurora chuckled and waved her hand at Zondra. "This is the way it was supposed to be. I wanted us to run it together as much as Mom. Our Italian family running our Mexican restaurant. That's why Mom gave you, not me, that enchilada recipe. She was hoping you'd bring it home, to El Compadre. And she'd have been happy you brought The Morg home, too." She smiled, this time in obvious satisfaction. "Alright, so we're set for the rehearsal dinner?"
Morgan nodded. "Yes, I've bought everything special. Early prep's finished. I'll come by tomorrow and oversee things until I have to go to the rehearsal."
"So," Aurora said, "you're Chuck's best man. Who's Devon's?"
"His dad, Woody."
"Woody?" Aurora asked, trying not to smile.
Morgan did smile, then added. "His mom's name is Honey."
The three of them burst out laughing, each of them looking around to make sure no one heard what caused the laugh.
"Jesus," Aurora said, catching her breath, "are his parents porn stars?"
Morgan was trying not to be loud. "I know, I know. And think! He's Woody Woodcomb and she's Honey Woodcomb. It's porn or some screwy nature documentary."
They lost control of themselves again. When they calmed down, Zondra checked her watch then grabbed Morgan's hand. "Let's go, Morgan. The realtor will show us that apartment, the one near Chuck and Sarah's, and Ellie and Devon's. I have a good feeling."
"Me too." He smiled at her and she smiled back. They left the kitchen together. Aurora watched them go with her own happy smile, then grabbed another chip and scooped more salsa. She crunched the chip and salsa ran down her chin. "God," she said through her mouthful of the chip, almost moaning, not even wiping her chin, "that is damn good salsa."
John took Carina's hand as the plane to Burbank began its final descent.
She was happy. Happy to be with him, happy to be on the way to the double wedding. She'd been wanting to spend more time with John and missing everyone in Burbank.
Carina was now working as an instructor at the Quantico DEA training school, teaching agents the How-To of deep-cover assignments. She liked the job, liked it a lot, but the drive between there and DC ate up even more hours of already long days. She hated that because she wanted to spend her time with John. That was surprising, or it would have surprised the old Carina. But it was true, although she was practically living with him and had been for a few months.
John had retired from the NSA not long after the Rushmore fight with Fulcrum, with Larkin. He had been working part-time at a gun range and enjoyed the work there, but he had dedicated himself to writing. A memoir.
A memoir. Carina had trouble imagining it at first. To be honest, she feared pages covered with repeated grunts. But when he let her read the first chapter, it moved her. The prose was terse, leathery, economical to the point of vanishing, but it packed power. The working title of the memoir was Thinker, Trailer, Soldier, Spy. Carina was working on him, trying to get him to change the title. But she thought the book had a chance of being published. Writing it seemed to do John good too. Each chapter seemed like the laying-down of a burden.
They had been talking about getting rid of their separate places and getting a place together nearer Quantico. It was talk, but not just talk. Carina expected it to happen.
She put her hand around her other hand, the one in John's. They felt the plane descend. Carina leaned her head on John's shoulder and glanced up at him. "Love ya, Carina," he breathed. She smiled and raised herself to kiss him. She still had not said the words back - but she knew one day she would.
Ellie was standing in front of a full-length mirror in her bedroom.
Her mom was behind her, making minute adjustments to Ellie's wedding gown. Sarah sat on the bed in her own, watching Ellie fuss with her mother, trying to hide a grin.
"Ellie, you have not gotten fat. You are exactly the same size as you were when you tried this on two days ago. Stand still and let me get it straight."
"Mom!" Ellie said in exasperation.
Sarah's grin grew, despite her hope to hide it. Her old ability to contain her emotions, keep them from others, even from herself, seemed to have abandoned her. Or, maybe, she had abandoned it. She just did not need it anymore.
Her grin resulted not only from Ellie and Mary's fuss, but from Sarah's own surprising realization that Ellie was more nervous about getting married than Sarah was. Not that Sarah had no butterflies. She did. Some. But her butterflies were not numerous, and they seemed to have alighted, landed, beating their wings slowly, not all aflutter. Ellie's evidently flew in butterfly dogfights, climbing and diving and rolling, chasing each other.
Ellie was certain Sarah was just better at hiding her nerves, her butterflies, and Sarah did not disabuse her of that assumption. Sarah just knew, the way she had known since the beginning, known about Chuck. She had fought with the knowledge, but when she finally acknowledged it, the deep ruptures in her, years in the making, had healed, become whole, she became one person, not two, or three or however countless many she had been over the years.
Sarah was a little nervous. Mostly, she was excited. She had been ever since Chuck's proposal on their weekend getaway to the California wine country, to the Tri-Valley, to Pleasanton. Chuck had proposed to her on the balcony of a villa there. It had been perfect.
Since then, she had been eager for the day when she got to follow-up her yes with an I do. One more day to get through, then it would be The Day.
"Mom, stop. I can do it." Sarah looked up. Mary turned and smirked at her and Sarah laughed out loud. After a moment, Ellie did too. "Sorry, Mom. I'm just nervous. I want everything to go well. I have this fear that it will all somehow turn into a fiasco."
"No, Ellie, it won't. It will be wonderful, just like you and Sarah have planned. Relax. You are marrying a wonderful man - although if you let his parents suggest baby names, I will revert to spy and hunt you down, daughter of mine - and you two will have a wonderful life." She turned to Sarah again. "You too, Sarah, except for the naming thing. Chuck's parents know how to name."
"Chuck's parents?" Sarah asked, innocence on her face, mischief in her emphasis.
"Well, okay, maybe that's not great. But, C'mon, Sarah, I hear you say his name, the way you say it. You make it a great name."
Sarah blushed, pleased by the remark. "Thanks, Mary. I love him. I love him so much."
Ellie turned to allow Sarah to see the gown but she was waving her arms as she did. "We know, we know. Remember, when you two moved from Maison 23, your bedroom was right next door to mine."
Sarah's blush increased but she narrowed her eyes above a full smile. "And yours to mine."
Mary blushed. "Enough, girls. Now, Sarah, stand up. Good. God, you are both so beautiful. Sarah, Emma's going to be so excited when she sees you."
Devon was at the bar, getting the third round.
Chuck and Stephen and Jacob Brown sat at a table. Morgan was to join them soon.
Chuck looked at his phone. He was expecting a text from Sarah, telling him that Emma and Molly had arrived.
Although Chuck and Sarah had done everything they could think of, they could not find Sarah's dad for the wedding. That was the one spot on their sunbright happiness. Despite her father's disastrous parenting, she would have liked him there. Chuck hoped that messages he had left with known associates of her fathers might produce him at the wedding but it was unlikely. None of his associates had seen him in a long time.
As Chuck looked at the phone, the expected text arrived. Emma and Molly were at Ellie's apartment. Chuck put the phone away.
Devon came back followed by a waiter with beers on a tray. Devon sat and the waiter distributed the bottles, taking the empty ones away.
"So, Jacob," Stephen said, continuing his conversation with Brown, 'what are you doing with yourself in retirement."
Brown shrugged. "Not much. I had things to see about in Boston, things I had left undone after my dad died. But that's all taken care of now, and I am trying to decide if I'll stay in DC or if I'll pull up stakes and find new horizons."
Stephen glanced at Chuck and Chuck nodded. "Have you ever thought about living here? Modest Tech is getting to be too much for us to handle. Sarah has been helping but her classes at college are taking up a lot of her time."
"She's studying psychology?" Jacob asked.
"Yes, she wants to work as an Intellectual Disability Therapist, working with children. Between her classes and her volunteer time at a local daycare, she's not got much time left over for MT. We could use another set of hands, and gifted hands at that. You should think about it."
Brown looked at the father and son. He liked sunshine and felt pasty. He also liked the Bartowskis - a lot. The invitation to the double-wedding had delighted him. Living in LA? Dad would hate it, but he'd like them, like the work. "Let me think about it - but I'll say that I'm flattered and that I'll probably say yes."
Chuck picked up his bottle and held it out. "Well, here's to a yes." Four bottles clinked together.
Chuck saw Morgan come in, wave. Waving back, Chuck was struck by the thought: I'm marrying Sarah Walker. That thought made him feel like himself, the self he both was already and was still becoming, the way Sarah herself always did.
Later, Chuck stood in happy silence outside their apartment, next to the fountain, when Sarah came out of Ellie's apartment.
Devon had come in and told her Chuck was back. Mary left earlier - she and Stephen were having late drinks with Woody and Honey.
Emma was behind Sarah, holding a sleeping Molly. Emma smiled at Chuck. They knew each other from previous visits and were fond of each other. "Hey, Chuck," she whispered. She kissed his cheek and he kissed her cheek and then Molly's head.
"Glad you guys are here safe."
"Thanks. I'll take her in and put her down. Then I'll put myself to bed. Big days coming up."
Chuck nodded. Emma went inside. Chuck turned and looked at Sarah. She had seated herself by the fountain and was looking down into the water. "How was the final fitting?"
Sarah looked up with a smile. "There were two minutes where I thought it might be final."
"Oh, Mom and Ellie?"
Sarah nodded. "Yeah, but it wasn't bad. They're both - we're all excited, jumpy."
Chuck knelt down in front of her, raising his eyebrows. "I can take you inside and do something about that...jumpy."
Sarah said nothing. She just grabbed him and pulled him to her, kissing him as deeply as she could, unguardedly, hoping he could feel and taste how much she loved him.
Chuck pulled away when the kiss ended and looked at her with dilated eyes. "Wow. We should go inside. I want to be..." he sneaked a look around, making sure the coast was clear, "...well,...atop you, beneath you, behind you, beside you…"
"Why, Chuck Bartowski, are you prepositioning me?"
"You could say that," he replied with a naughty smile.
"And with my mother and sister in the apartment?"
His smile vanished. "Oh, I forgot. But I can be quiet."
Sarah smirked at him. "Hasn't happened yet. For either of us."
He pursed his lips. "No, I guess not. But you're staying with Ellie tomorrow night, after the rehearsal dinner, right, at Mom and Dad's? Tarzana?"
"Yes, so you'll have to...manage yourself for the next couple of days. But I guarantee, the wedding night will be so worth it."
Chuck's dilated eyes became dreamy. She gave him a quick kiss. "Tell you what. We can snuggle - and I'll even let you talk while we do."
He grinned. "Deal!"
The wedding ended: two pairs of I do's vowed, new lives started.
The revels were underway. Brown stood off to the side, drinking another glass of wine. Couples surrounded him, dancing around him. Swaying, swinging. Stephen and Mary. Chuck and Sarah. Ellie and Devon. Carina and Casey. Zondra and Morgan. Love filled the room.
He watched the couples sway, swing. At one point, he saw Carina whisper something to Casey and they stopped dancing. Casey stood at attention, then gave Carina an amazing smile and embraced her, kissed her. Brown toasted them with his glass although they had no attention for anyone else. He was standing there, full of wine, the wine causing him to sway too, swing, when a lovely blonde-haired woman, a few years younger than him, walked up.
"Are you Jacob Brown? I'm sorry we didn't get introduced earlier. I'm Emma, Sarah's mom. Would you like to dance?"
Brown looked down at his cane. Emma followed his glance. "It'll be okay, Jacob. Just lean on me. It's a slow dance."
A/N: That's all, folks!
Epilogue Theme/Story Theme: Zero 7, Swing. (Three months ago, I was driving to my favorite coffee shop when this song came on. Before it was over, I had the basic story of Amuck. Go figure!)
A very sincere thanks to those of you who were kind enough to take a few minutes and write a review or send a PM. Writing these stories is work, mostly lonely work, and hearing from readers is the only way of connecting with those who are sharing the world you are creating/inhabiting. Ars gratia artis, yes, but a human response is a welcome thing.
A special thank you to Beckster1213, Chesterton, David Carner, and WvonB for pre-reading chapters or for conversations.
I appreciate folks sticking around while I yet again (to borrow a term from Ezra Pound) underwent a novel.
Parting thoughts, reactions? Even if you are reading after the story's been completed, I'd love to hear from you!
Zettel
Exit Music: Zero 7, End Theme
