The Last Stand (Book 3) (The Repentant Demon Trilogy) Page 6

  “Wow, those are amazing,” said her mother, Jodie, “look at that pretty color. That's so perfect for Christmas. What do you think we should do with them?”

  “We could glue them to sticks and make a star for the top of the tree,” she answered. Then she became distracted by Angel who was excited that a child had arrived at the house to play with her.

  “Stephen said Abby and Cal were going to put Angel on top of their tree because she looks like a little white angel. He was just kidding, wasn't he?”

  “Your cousin is a real jokester, Claudia,” laughed Ruthie. “I don't think she'd like that at all. Do you?”

  Little Claudia nodded “no”, shaking her honey blonde-colored curls. Abigail thought she was absolutely adorable, and in spite of the drudgery of morning sickness, she began to think about having another baby so that their little guy could have a sister.

  “I'm hungry,” she said quietly to her mother, Jodie, spying Cal munching on his cold grilled cheese triangle.

  “We've got some fruit with cheese and crackers back at the trailer,” answered Jodie, “That should hold you off until suppertime. So what do you say we head home on our bikes?”

  The group gathered their coats and trudged out into the cold carrying voluminous notes on their holiday plans.

  “Let's put the tree in front of the window,” said Abigail, after they were alone. “I'll make popcorn so we can string some garland. It'll be beautiful. I haven't trimmed a tree since I was a kid. Guess I'd better get used to it for Junior's sake and all the future little Callahans.”

  She slithered onto his lap and he embraced her tightly, caressing her full body straddling him. They kissed fervently, realizing they'd missed having frequent and prolonged sessions of intimacy. Their lives had suddenly filled up with important matters as well as many more people. Some of their private time together had been stolen by Abigail's bouts with physical discomforts, and though uncomfortable more than serious, it had interrupted their love life. Feelings quickly became overwhelming as they began touching each other, warming and arousing all the places their hands and lips could find access to bare skin.

  “How much time do you think we have before someone knocks on the door?” teased Cal.

  “Since there is no way of knowing,” answered Abigail, “I think we should go for it, and fast!”

  They ran to the bedroom, unbuttoning clothes along the way. They fell onto the bed together, coupling their bodies almost immediately due to both urgency and intense desire.

  In this bedroom episode they did not continue to the point of exhaustion, as they loved so much to do. But they were satiated, calmed, and nurtured by the physical love they shared. It had only been an hour since they began, and each had reserved enough energy to greet the McFarlands who were expected for a meal.

  “I was planning a nice supper for us all,” she said. “Thank goodness I got a head start earlier in the day before the snoozies took over my body. The pork chops are stuffed and in the refrigerator. All I have to do is put them in the oven with some baking potatoes. Dessert is a thawed out cheesecake from the freezer. Uma's bringing some of her famous slaw. I'm so upset that I've slept half the day away, and even more upset that this keeps happening to me.”

  “Just take it in stride, honey,” Cal advised as though he were wise in the ways of pregnant women. “The guys told me you need to store up sleep for all the times the baby will keep you awake throughout the night.”

  The cupboards and freezer seemed to be over-flowing, but Abigail wondered how long it would last. Cal told her that tons more food was stored inside the mountain facility; food for the personnel, the troops, and whatever refugees might arrive.

  When supper was nearly done cooking, Uma and Brady arrived bearing gifts in a large cardboard box. They, too, had seen the Christmas tree brigade coming down the mountainside on the armada of bikes.

  “We have more than enough decorations,” said Uma, “so you're welcome to take whatever you want from these old things we had stored in the attic. You can give what you don’t want to your friends by the lake.”

  Abigail thanked them and couldn't resist breaking apart the old cardboard top to see what was inside. She gazed upon the very tree ornaments from her childhood. She felt overcome with joy and was amazed that Uma had kept them all through the years.

  “They were in the basement of the house where we all lived together,” said Uma, “and after I got out of jail I went out there to see if anyone was still left of the old commune. Only Matthew and Jane, who actually owned the house, lived there by that time. The rest had died, moved, or ended up incarcerated. Jane saved a lot of my stuff, and she was happy to give it back to me. I thought at the time, that I might find you and we'd have all the rest of our Christmases together. That didn't happen, of course, and I don't even know why I brought it with me here. Just because of the sentimental value, I guess.”

  “I remember this little owl,” said Abigail, “and here's one I must have made in school, with my picture on it.”

  “You were only six or seven,” said Uma, “It's touching that you actually remember these. Most of them we made ourselves. I made all the crocheted ones. It's been so long since I've held a crochet hook in my hands, but I'm sure I can still remember the stitches. I'll have to get busy and make something for the baby, a blanket perhaps.”

  Dinner finished cooking while the women hung ornaments one by one on the tree. Even those Abigail did not remember still filled her with emotion to consider that they were part of her history. These things would be passed on to the next generation now. Every one of them seemed very special.

  Abigail mentioned the proposal of having a party on Christmas Eve at the lodge, and she hoped that Uma wouldn't mind the imposition, explaining how the women wanted to keep things as joyful as possible for the children.

  “I absolutely love the idea of hosting the party,” answered Uma. “Brady's going to get us a big tree tomorrow, and I've already got all the decorations out of the attic. I'll bake apple pies. The men always like that; even though it's not really a Christmas dessert. We'll have plenty of cookies for the kids. It’ll be a good thing for us to be together on that night.”

  A smaller box at the bottom of the bigger one held the nativity set of beautiful chalkware figures of baby Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and all the shepherds and barnyard animals. Abigail placed it underneath the tree carefully, thinking that the peace of the Christ Child was surely needed on this Christmas more than any other in her lifetime. A white chenille throw she had brought from Saint Louis served as an excellent tree skirt, hiding the ugly bucket of sand and providing a “snowy” backdrop for the creche. Following tradition, she placed the baby Jesus figure in a drawer, leaving the manger empty until Christmas Eve.

  The table had been set, the meal was warm and waiting, and the newly-formed little family gathered for their meal. The conversation was lively. They had so much to learn about each other and a whole future life to share, although they had no idea for how long it would last.

  “I was thinking about going into town to do a little Christmas shopping,” said Abigail, speaking to Uma, “I know they don't expect it, but I want to get some little surprises for the Edwards and Decker kids. Would you want to come along?” She actually was more interested in finding something really special for Cal, but would not say so in his presence.

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you, Abby,” interrupted Cal, “They want you to come in for a medical exam tomorrow. It shouldn't take long, though. If you go early, you should still have plenty of time for your shopping.”

  “You mean like a prenatal check-up?” she asked. “I was wondering if they were going to take care of that or not. I can't wait to see the ultra-sound. We'll get to see Junior for the first time, only he'll probably look more like a peanut than a baby right now.”

  “So you're hoping for a boy?” said Brady, “That would be nice.”

  “Oh, we know it's a boy,” said Cal, before he realized he had slipped and
said something that wasn't explainable without telling them about the angel.

  “So you've had DNA testing done?” asked Uma, “That's understandable since you didn't know exactly what genes you were dealing with, being adopted. I heard that a lot of people in that situation screen for genetic defects. So now I know to make that baby blanket blue.”

  Cal and Abigail smiled comfortably, realizing they'd squeezed by that one. Eventually, his past was going to come up in conversation, and since he didn't have one, it was going to require some thoughtful planning. Mike knew, but he was the only one that knew about Cal's prior life—his life before being human. They needed to invent a background for Cal, and then drill each other on the facts so that they could keep their story straight.

  “So, is it going to be Cal Junior?” asked Brady, “Short for Calvin, I guess? Or, have you not decided yet.”

  Abigail again realized they couldn't tell them that it wasn’t his real name and that they wouldn't want to name the baby Calumnius—a demon's name.

  “Cal is short for Callahan,” he explained. “My name's actually Reece Callahan, and I'm not crazy about either one. We hadn't thought about it much as yet.

  “By the way,” he added, “Agent Foley arranged to have the van fixed, and I was supposed to drop it off tomorrow. Maybe you could pick me up from there if you're going into town anyway.”

  “Sure,” she said to him, then she asked Uma, “What was my father's name… his real one, not Wolf-song,” laughed Abigail.

  “Jonah,” said Uma, “It was Jonah Aaron Kennedy.”

  “How amazing,” gasped Abigail, “Cal, how would you feel about naming the baby Jonah?”

  He smiled broadly and nodded in fond recognition of her favorite biblical obsession. The tomb of Jonah she'd wanted so desperately to find as an archaeologist in Iraq.

  “If you kids don't stop making me cry,” joked Uma, wiping away tears of happiness, having assumed they were naming the baby after her dead husband. “I'm going to have to ask Santa for a case of tissues.”

  * * *

  Chapter 5. Surprises—Good and Bad

  Abigail was thrilled to see the little peanut growing inside her. Cal was mortified seated beside her, seeing the huge eyes, enormous head, and throbbing heart through layers of transparent tissue.

  “Is the baby deformed?” he gasped, to the immediate laughter of both Abigail and the ultra-sound technician.

  Their response put his mind at ease, and he became mesmerized by the tiny moving creature on the screen—his son. This was a miracle he had never dreamed could ever happen. He, who had always abhorred inter-species mating, was now thrilled to love a human woman and to be blessed with a human child. He thought about possibly having more since this was such a wonderful thing—this thing known as reproduction.

  They went to an office and talked with Doctor Scott Cory, a man who seemed too young to be so qualified as the diplomas on his wall proclaimed. He told them that everything was fine, that Abigail was in excellent health, and that she should take the vitamins he was handing her. It felt good to have a professional opinion that verified her inherent conviction that this pregnancy was indeed happening.

  They left the clinic and drove by the McFarland place to get Uma and then were soon on their way into town. Abigail did not want to overshadow the Christmas that the kids' parents were providing for them, and she didn't know them well enough to get the things they might have needed or wanted. She only wanted to give each of them some little surprise to make the party more fun for kids. Uma wanted to help too, because it was fun buying toys again after so long a time without any children in her life.

  “I want to buy a sweet little dress for the new baby,” said Abigail, “They are so thrilled to be having a girl after two boys. Stephen is ten, and acts like he's much older. He seems a very serious boy. I was thinking about a book; something about architecture. I think he'd like it, just a feeling I have. And his brother, who is eight, is really adventurous. He went wild over seeing my plane. I hope I can find a model Cessna for him.”

  “This really is fun,” said Uma, “What you don't buy, I will. I can practice for spoiling that grandson of mine.”

  “If stores still exist by that time,” sighed Abigail, “Who knows what the world will look like by the time he's eight or ten.”

  An uncomfortable silence followed those thoughts. Then the women turned their attention to Jodie's two children. What to get seven-year-old David Decker and the little girl, Claudia. Then Abigail mentioned that she wanted to get something really special for Cal.

  “I heard him talking to Brady about getting you something, too,” said Uma, teasingly. “And the auto body shop is right next door to a very classy jewelry store. But that's all I'm going to say.”

  “Actually, you've put my mind at ease,” said Abigail, “I was worried he might feel funny if I gave him something and he hadn't thought about getting a gift for me. It's not like our traditions are familiar to him.”

  “Why is that?” asked Uma. “Is he a foreigner? He sure looks American. Actually he kinda looks like Superman, our number one all-American hero.”

  “He was raised in a closed religious community,” answered Abigail, prepared for this quiz by the incessant drilling each of them had given the other. “When he was sixteen, the state took away all the children due to the crimes of their leader. He was raping the young girls in the name of God. So Cal was sent to a foster home, then to a boarding school when they discovered his remarkable intellectual gifts. We met on a dig in Iraq where he was helping to translate ancient tablets.”

  “How fascinating,” said Uma, looking appeased. “That really explains a lot. Sometimes he seems like he's from another planet or something. I don't mean that as an offense at all. He's so innocent, almost naive. Often he doesn't understand euphemisms or get jokes. Now I completely understand why, God love him.”

  Abigail was thinking that she couldn't wait to tell Cal how well their cover-up had worked. She mentioned that she was thinking of buying him a gun for Christmas, but both Brady and Agent Foley had endowed him with ample firearms.

  “Brady is giving him another pistol,” she informed Abigail, “but don't tell him. It's a surprise. We figured the laws are going to mean nothing in a short time. And if he needs a permit or license, maybe Agent Foley can pull some strings. It's from his time in Viet Nam. Brady wants him to have it since he never had a son to whom he could pass it on.”

  “Do you know if there's a Catholic religious goods store in town?” exclaimed Abigail suddenly, “I know the perfect thing to get him.”

  Uma told her where to drive, and she seemed uncomfortably surprised that the two of them were Catholic. Being inside the store made her more ill at ease, so she excused herself to wait out in the car. This did not faze Abigail. She had come across religious prejudices before, and she knew that Uma had just probably been misinformed about the faith in some way or another. In time, she would see that Catholics weren't all freaks, and they would be able to discuss whatever misgivings had made her so upset.

  Abigail found a large exquisitely formed statue of Saint Michael the Archangel with raised sword and resplendent wings. The features were delicately carved and realistically painted. Suddenly, she realized this would only remind him of what he had given up for her and for humanity. I can't do this, she realized, changing her mind and suddenly at a loss for what to get him. When a sales clerk came up to her and asked to be of assistance, she said, “I'm looking for a gift for a new father-to-be, something for a man about to welcome his first son into the world.”

  Thinking that she was interested in statuary, since that is where she had been browsing when he found her, the young man directed her to a whole series of figurines by the same artist who depicted fathers fishing with their sons, reading to them, teaching them to build things, and a whole array of domestic scenes. They were beautifully crafted, and when Abigail learned they could be personalized with an engraved brass plate, she chose one. It
was of a black-haired man teaching his son to pray at the foot of his bed. She loved it, and they said they could engrave the plate to say “Cal and Jonah” before the afternoon was over. It would be ready to pick up by five.

  The day moved quickly as the women purchased gifts then stopped for lunch at a little cafe where Abigail received the call that Cal was already on his way back to the cabin with the repaired van. So she didn't need to pick him up from the repair shop after all.

  “That was lucky,” said Abigail, “I didn't want him to see the package from the religious store. Cal would have wanted to know what was in it. He's probably feeling relieved for the same reason, although he could more easily hide a piece of jewelry inside a pocket. Wait till you see what I got him. This statue is fifteen inches tall. Cal appreciates beautiful artwork, especially the religious kind.”

  “So you're both really into all this Catholic stuff,” commented Uma, with reservation, “I would think he might be turned off by religion with all that happened to him.”