CALM Before the

STORM

by

Peggy J.Herring

2011

Copyright © 2000 by Peggy J. Herring

Bella Books, Inc.

P.O. Box 10543

Tallahassee, FL 32302

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced

or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or

mechanical, including photocopying, without permission in

writing from the publisher.

Printed in the United States of America on acid-free paper

First Edition

Fourth Printing, 2011

Editor: Lila Empson

Cover Designer: Judy Fellows

ISBN 13: 978-0-9677753-1-9

Titles by Peggy J. Herring

Available from Bella Books

Once More With Feeling

A Moment’s Indiscretion

To Have and to Hold

Calm Before the Storm

The Comfort of Strangers

Beyond All Reason

White Lace and Promises

for aj

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank Frankie J. Jones for her continuous

support and Martha Cabrera for the emergency brainstorming

session at Red Lobster. Without you two I wouldn’t have met my

deadline.

I would also like to thank Joan Hedahl for sharing her

expertise in such a way that even I could understand it.

A very special thanks also goes to Laurie McMillen for

helping me smooth out the rough edges on the manuscript and

for keeping my spirits up when it looked like there wasn’t a plot

in sight. You’re very good at what you do!

I want to also thank Kelly Smith for giving me a new home at

Bella Books. I admire her courage and foresight, and I’m happy

to be a part of this new adventure.

In addition, I want to express my appreciation to my good

friend and Chain Gang member Therese Szymanski for many

valuable suggestions. I look forward to more of her quirkiness in

the future.

And I would also like to thank Sean O’Mara for the last-

minute advice and for helping me add a dose of realism here and

there.

About the Author

Peggy J. Herring lives on seven acres in south Texas with

her cockatiel, hermit crabs, two wooden cats and several

chickens. When she isn’t writing Peggy enjoys traveling. She is

the recipient of an Alice B Medal and author of over a dozen

romantic novels.

Chapter One

Colonel Marcel Robicheaux moved briskly through the

Command Suite and acknowledged the call to attention with a

bright “good morning” before reaching the door to her office.

Having everyone in the room aware of her arrival was a formality

done only once a day, and Marcel always liked having it over

with as soon as possible. Military customs and courtesies were

ingrained in tradition, and Marcel knew that she would miss

certain aspects of it when she retired, but having her presence

announced before she even had her first cup of coffee every

morning would always rank at the top of her things-I-can-live-

without list.

William Shook, Marcel’s secretary, usually gave her enough

time to get her hat and coat on the rack before coming in with the

day’s agenda. He was a small man and impeccably groomed, often

Peggy J. Herring

reminding Marcel of a well-dressed jockey who had ridden his

last race and had reluctantly settled into a mundane government

job to pay the rent. William was efficient at keeping Marcel

out of trouble and on time for meetings and appointments. She

would be lost without him.

“Captain Cooper from Company B needs to see you right

away,” William said as he scanned an index card with notes on

it. “And the General’s wife called to remind you about tennis at

eleven-thirty.”

Marcel rolled her eyes and gave him her best bored expression.

“Do whatever it takes to get me out of that.”

William smiled and nodded slightly.

“Any idea what Captain Cooper wants?” Marcel asked as she

sat down behind her desk.

“Adult leadership, no doubt,” he replied dryly. Marcel

chuckled as he continued. “There’s the General’s staff meeting

at fourteen hundred hours and an awards ceremony at fifteen-

thirty.” William pulled a folder out from under his arm and

placed it opened in front of her with a pen ready for her to begin

signing. Marcel scribbled her name on the forms and letters

wherever he pointed, and they worked their way down through

the pile.

“Send Captain Cooper in as soon as she gets here,” Marcel

said. “Let the day begin.”

Captain Heidi Cooper, a lesbian who spent a lot of time

trying not to appear as such, was one of two female company

commanders in the battalion. Marcel felt a sense of responsibility

for all soldiers under her command, whether they were officers

or enlisted personnel. Heidi had a small crush on Marcel, and

she always seemed to have a reason to be in Marcel’s office.

Occasionally they would run together at lunch, and Heidi was

quick to volunteer for anything that the battalion needed help

with. Heidi was a good officer who felt comfortable with Marcel

on several levels. Marcel made sure that interactions between

them stayed professional and above board.

As soon as William left Marcel’s office, there was a short,

firm knock on the door. Marcel answered with a steady, “Come

in.”

Calm Before The Storm

Captain Cooper closed the door behind her and nervously

ran her fingers through her collar-length brown hair. Heidi had

a stocky build and at five-foot-five was several inches shorter

than Marcel. Due to strict Army regulations, keeping fit was

an occupational necessity, and Heidi constantly struggled to

stay within the authorized weight standards. Her naturally

rosy cheeks hinted at a hypertension problem, but she had an

easygoing manner and was in excellent health. Marcel smiled as

she remembered someone saying “not the sharpest knife in the

drawer” when they described Captain Cooper upon her arrival

at Fort Sam Houston, but so far Marcel hadn’t seen anything in

her behavior or actions to warrant such a remark.

“Thanks for seeing me this morning,” Heidi said.

“What’s the problem?” Marcel asked. “Sit down. You look

like hell. What’s up?”

Heidi eased into the green plastic chair in front of Marcel’s

desk, a chair that had been specifically chosen for its lack of

comfort. Marcel’s theory was that if she had nice, comfortable

furniture in her office, then visitors might not leave in a timely

manner. She was too busy to entertain anyone, and so far the

green plastic chair was serving its purpose. However, when

Marcel’s mother, Roslin Robicheaux, came to see her, Roslin

always insisted on sitting in Marcel’s chair behind the desk,

refusing to sit in anyone’s dumpster reject.

Marcel gave Heidi her complete attention and noticed

that Heidi’s camouflage, battle-dress uniform was starched to

perfection, with creases that looked as though they might snap a

sleeve in half if she weren’t careful.

“How can they be so stupid?” Heidi mumbled. “Sometimes

they leave me absolutely speechless.”

“They?” Marcel said. “They who?”

“The troops. You wouldn’t believe the conversation I’ve

already had this morning.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Sergeant Wiley Hartman,” Heidi said as she sighed heavily.

“He’s been in the Army seven years already. He should know

better. Anyway, I get a call from National Car Rental yesterday

telling me that Sergeant Hartman has had one of their rental

Peggy J. Herring

cars for two months now and won’t give it back. He owes them

fourteen hundred dollars. So I get him in my office to hear his

side of the story, and he tells me that he did, in fact, rent a car

for a week and paid for a week. Then as it turned out he needed

the car longer.” Exasperated, Heidi shook her head and sighed

again. “He then tells me that he can’t take the car back because

he owes too much money on it! Can you believe that? He owes

too much money. I tried to explain to him that each day he keeps

the car, he will owe even more money, but he doesn’t seem to get

it. He keeps repeating over and over again that he has to keep the

car because he doesn’t have fourteen hundred dollars to pay the

rental-car company.”

Marcel leaned forward in her chair and laced her fingers

together on top of her desk. Okay, she thought. This sounds simple

enough. A very fixable problem.

Marcel arched an eyebrow and asked, “So what exactly do

you need me for?” She leaned back in her chair and studied Heidi

for a moment. The frustration on Heidi’s face told her all she

needed to know then. With a solution already in mind, Marcel

said, “This is what you do. You call up the rental-car agency and

make arrangements for him to pay the bill off from his allotment

every month. Then you send him to the finance office for official

financial counseling. Just make sure everything’s documented.”

Heidi pursed her lips. “Hmm. I didn’t think about the

allotment thing.”

“It’s the only way they’ll get their money.” Marcel smiled

suddenly. “How long would he have kept the car?”

“Forever! According to him, he couldn’t afford to take it

back. Have you ever heard of anything so stupid?”

They shared a laugh for a moment, and then Heidi said,

“I’d also like to take a stripe away from him. As an NCO he’s

supposed to be a leader. I’m not sure this guy could lead his way

out of a paper bag.”

Marcel frowned. “There are more effective ways to deal

with him. He’s in financial trouble already. If a reduction in rank

produces a smaller paycheck, how’s that going to help him? He’s

drowning here. He needs a life preserver, and you’re suggesting

that we throw him an anchor. I think an official counseling

Calm Before The Storm

statement would be more appropriate at this point.” Marcel laced

her fingers together again and said, “Is there anything else I can

help you with?”

“Uh.. no. Thanks. I’ll take care of it.” Captain Cooper closed

the door behind her on her way out. As soon as the door clicked

shut, the telephone on Marcel’s desk rang.

“The General’s wife has been holding for you on line one,”

William said. “She isn’t taking no for an answer.”

“I see,” Marcel said. “Thank you.” She squinted menacingly

at the blinking light on the phone and wondered how she was

going to get out of this.

General Harlan Wheatly’s young wife, Jordan, had taken a

renewed interest in Marcel at the General’s annual Christmas

party several months ago. To Marcel’s horror, Jordan had groped

her twice during the party — once on the front porch as carolers

sang to the guests, and then again later that same evening

when Jordan pretended to spill eggnog on the front of Marcel’s

uniform. Before the party was over, the General’s young wife

finally managed to lure Marcel into the kitchen, pin her against

the pantry door, and kiss her as if the world were coming to an

end.“Anyone could come in here,” Marcel remembered snarling

that night as she disentangled herself from Jordan’s grasp.

“I hate my life, Marcel.”

“You can’t make that my problem, Jordan. Why did you

marry him in the first place?”

“I thought it would be different. I had no idea I’d be this

bored.”

Marcel quickly checked her reflection in the toaster for any

signs of Jordan’s lipstick and said, “I also can’t be the solution to

your boredom either.”

“You’re the only lesbian I know.”

“Get real. This is the Army. Lesbians are everywhere on this

post.”

“So point them out to me,” Jordan had said with a smile.

“Other than Heidi Cooper. I know about her already.”

Marcel was never quite sure just how desperate Jordan was for

female companionship, but she didn’t trust her in the least. Even

Peggy J. Herring

though Marcel was a firm believer that sleeping with the boss’s

wife wasn’t in her best interest, her options were nonetheless

limited. Marcel knew that if Jordan mentioned to anyone that

she was a lesbian, her career would be over immediately, and

Marcel was too close to retirement to have that jeopardized.

Jordan was a determined, desperate woman, and Marcel had to

be smart and careful when dealing with her.

Marcel picked up the phone and said in her crisp I-don’t-have-

time-for-you-no-matter-who-you-are voice, “Colonel Robicheaux.

This is an unsecured line. How can I help you?”

Jordan wasn’t the least bit impressed. “Don’t pretend you don’t

know who this is. Eleven-thirty today. Tennis. Remember?”

Marcel took a deep breath and vowed to be as pleasant as

she could under the circumstances. Having to discourage

an attractive woman wasn’t something that she had a lot of

experience with.

“Good morning, Mrs. Wheatly. How are you?”

This particular tennis date, like the other three tennis dates

that Jordan had arranged, had come about as a result of Jordan’s

clever suggestions in the presence of her husband at various

social gatherings. General Wheatly liked seeing his wife active

and busy, since the role of military wife still wasn’t agreeing with

her. Jordan was restless, and the General always seemed to be at

a loss as to what to do with her.

“Just don’t be late,” Jordan said. She was apparently still

miffed at William’s earlier attempt to cancel her plans.

Against Marcel’s better judgment, she resigned herself to the

fact that there would be a few sets of tennis in her immediate

future. She decided that she’d just have to tell Jordan again

how much she disliked all this flagrant aggression.. disliked the

cheap thrill of stolen kisses behind closed doors.. the excitement

and danger of having her breasts touched in broad daylight

on the tennis court. With less than six weeks to go before her

retirement, Marcel didn’t need that in her life now. Unsatisfied

married women didn’t interest her in the least, and getting out

of this situation as quickly as possible, with her rank and career

intact, would take all of Marcel’s mental resources.

“I’ll be there,” Marcel said, and then added, “promptly.”

Calm Before The Storm

“And leave that stupid beeper at the office,” Jordan said.

“They can do without you for an hour.” Her anger was slipping

away; Marcel could hear it in her voice. “I’ve got a nice salad

and a bottle of wine chilling for later. I’ll send you back very

happy.”

Give me a break, Marcel thought as she hung up the phone.

Six more weeks of this. Give me strength.

The idea came to Marcel a few hours later as she went to

change clothes for her tennis date. She decided against wearing

her usual white shorts, white pullover shirt, and white sneakers

and chose instead the gray Army sweats that had been in one of

her lost, but recently found again, gym bags. The sweats were

ripe and disgusting—and absolutely perfect for the occasion.

Marcel tossed her beeper, a few bucks, and her military ID

card in a fanny pack and left William specific instructions to page

her in an hour. She then set off running toward the General’s

house, which was a little over two miles from Marcel’s office.

She knocked on Jordan’s door a while later and was met with a

furious glare the moment Jordan saw her.

“Damn it, Marcel,” Jordan snapped. “You’re sweaty already.”

The rhyming words made Marcel laugh, but Jordan didn’t see

anything funny about it. She poked her head out the door and

scanned the tree-lined street for Marcel’s Miata. “Where the

fuck’s your car? Did you run over here?”

Marcel nudged her way inside the door and tried to catch

her breath. Being out in the open air had unfortunately made

her sweats smell less offensive. “I’ll need to borrow one of your

rackets. I didn’t feel like carrying mine. Hurry up. Chop-chop.

Let’s go. Some of us don’t have all day.”

As Jordan went up the stairs to get another racket, Marcel

reminded her that a General’s wife shouldn’t be saying fuck. She

laughed as she watched Jordan toss her bouncy blond ponytail

around with a shake of her head and trudge up each stair uttering

the word fuck several times with new, intense emphasis.

Peggy J. Herring

Marcel was ahead forty love when her beeper finally went

off, and Jordan was fuming at the interruption.

“I need to use your phone.”

Jordan pointed her racket at Marcel and said, “I know what

you’re doing.”

Marcel smiled. “I’m running your tush all over the court.

That’s what I’m doing. Now please take me to a phone.”

The General’s house was across the street from the tennis

courts, and they walked there in silence. Marcel had it in mind

to return William’s bogus call and then jog back to work for a

shower and then maybe a quick lunch at the dining facility. She

liked eating Army food occasionally and enjoyed mingling with

the troops. She imagined that the quality of food might improve

if the boss ate there more often.

Marcel hurried up the steps to the huge wooden wraparound

porch. The Wheatlys lived in what was called The Pershing

House, a historical landmark at Fort Sam Houston. John J.

Pershing had lived there in the twenties and Dwight and Mamie

Eisenhower had lived there in the forties. It was an old and truly

beautiful home. Marcel always felt a sense of awe whenever she

visited.

“The phone’s in here,” Jordan said as she motioned toward

another room to the left.

Marcel picked up the outrageously ornate receiver on the

seventies-model decorator cradle phone. It looked like something

from a soap opera, and Marcel wasn’t even sure it was real

until she heard the dial tone. She called her office number, and

seconds later she felt Jordan’s breasts pressing softly against her

back, felt her slender hands reaching around to cup her breasts.

Just as Marcel was about to intentionally step on Jordan’s foot to

discourage anything further, William answered the phone.

Marcel cleared her throat and moved away from the antique

table where the phone was, but Jordan stayed right with her and

even managed to kiss the back of her neck as she rubbed her

breasts more firmly against her.

Calm Before The Storm

“Colonel Robicheaux,” Marcel said. “Someone paged me?”

“As requested,” William replied.

Marcel closed her eyes and willed her nipples not to harden,

but she knew it was hopeless. And to make matters worse, Jordan’s

lips were now avidly kissing her sweaty neck and sending a wave

of goose bumps scampering down her arms.

“I see,” Marcel said. “Thank you. I’m on my way.” She hung

up the phone and let Jordan turn her around. “What do you

think you’re doing?”

Jordan laughed. “We both know what I’m doing, and we both

know that you like it.” She slid a hand under Marcel’s damp shirt

and smiled at what she found. “And apparently you like it a lot.”

“Give me a break,” Marcel said as she removed Jordan’s

hand. But Jordan was quick and brought Marcel’s hand up and

placed it on her own breast and squeezed. Jordan kissed her then,

and slipped her tongue into Marcel’s mouth. A jolt of heat flew

through Marcel’s body, and just for an instant she felt herself

responding. But the alarms in her head were ringing much

louder than any alarms connected elsewhere, and she abruptly

broke away from her.

“You know you want to,” Jordan whispered as she squeezed

Marcel’s hand that covered her breast. “I need you.”

Marcel couldn’t do it. She could see twenty years swirling

down a drain because of a horny officer’s wife whose idea of

discretion consisted of fondling only one of her lover’s breasts

instead of both while out in public. Marcel knew that Jordan

didn’t care about anyone but herself. Jordan just wanted sex.

Marcel yanked her hand back and on her way out the

door mumbled, “Mamie Eisenhower lived in this house, for

crissakes.”

Calm Before The Storm 11

Chapter twO

“Are you sleeping okay?” Roslin asked as she studied her

daughter carefully across the table. When she didn’t get an

answer right away, she prodded further. “Well? Are you?”

Marcel sipped her wine and shrugged. “I’m fine.”

“Meaning?”

“I sleep when I’m sleepy. You know how it is.”

Roslin set her menu aside and picked up her wineglass.

Holding it in both hands, she propped her elbows on the table.

“How long per night these days? On an average.”

“A few hours here and there. Nothing new. Stop worrying.

My body let’s me know when it’s time to sleep.” Marcel was

hoping her mother would move on to another subject, but deep

down she knew how unlikely that was. Insomnia had been a part

of Marcel’s routine for most of her life, and because of it she and

1 Peggy J. Herring

her mother were both unofficial experts on sleep disorders. Roslin

was forever asking the questions that she already knew the answers

to but felt compelled to ask anyway, while Marcel had learned to

pace herself and incorporate sleepless nights into a beneficial use

of time. The subject of Marcel’s sleep patterns always came up,

and Marcel quite often had nothing new to report.

“I still think it’s stress,” Roslin said. “All that traveling we

did when you were a baby, and then the pressure of school and

then the Army.”

“Traveling when I was a kid had nothing to do with it,”

Marcel said, reassuring her with a kind smile. She knew that her

mother was still consumed with guilt about several decisions she

had made while scratching out a living for them after Marcel’s

father had died. Over the years, Marcel had learned that the only

thing that helped to alleviate some of her mother’s guilt was to

reaffirm the closeness that they shared, and to remind her that

there wasn’t another child in the world who had felt more loved

than Marcel had when she was growing up.

“So have you decided about the antique business yet?” Roslin

asked. “I’d hate to see you rush into anything. Why don’t you

take some time off and relax for a while?”

“Relax?” Marcel said with a smile. “What’s that?”

“Do the Caribbean,” Roslin suggested. “Or Europe maybe.

Hell, come to Vegas with me and watch your mother work for a

while. It’ll be fun.”

Marcel chuckled at that last suggestion. It always amazed her

when she thought about how her mother made a living. Roslin

Robicheaux was a gambler, a good gambler. Poker was her game,

and in world-class gambling circles she was famous. As a result

of her uncanny luck and remarkable skill, Roslin owned houses

on four continents, yachts, and racehorses, as well as a fleet of

expensive cars—all having been obtained in lieu of cash during

various high-stake poker games. Roslin traveled and worked

about fifteen days out of a month; the remainder of the time she

stayed busy with various charities in the San Antonio area.

“How about it?” Roslin said. “Take some time off and come

with me. Chill a little.”

“If I chilled any more I’d have frostbite.” Hearing her

Calm Before The Storm 1

mother’s laughter made Marcel smile again. “I’m okay,” she

assured her once more. “Things are winding down in my

professional life now, so that’s not a problem. And I’m more

relaxed and at ease with myself now than I’ve been in a long

time. Maybe ever.” Marcel raised her glass before taking another

sip. “Frostbite, I tell you.”

Roslin arched a brow and said, “You’re so full of it that I’m

surprised your eyes are still blue.”

“There you go making fun of my poker face again.”

“Well, it’s not nice to bullshit your mother.”

Marcel parked in Cricket’s driveway and got the bottle of

wine out of the front seat. Amanda’s car was there already, which

made Marcel’s heart do the tango. Her emotions ranged from

excitement at the possibility of seeing Amanda again, to a sense

of dread at seeing her again. Amanda was Cricket’s girlfriend

and a successful real estate agent. The three of them had

recently been spending a lot of time together, but Marcel was

thinking about putting an end to that since she’d found herself

feeling attracted to Amanda lately. It was an uncomfortable

situation for her, and Marcel believed that Cricket and Amanda

both deserved better.

Cricket Lomax had been Marcel’s best friend since seventh

grade. In high school, they had become lovers and had remained

so until Marcel got accepted to West Point after graduation. Over

the years, their relationship developed into a warm, nurturing

friendship, and there was nothing they wouldn’t do for each

other. Cricket was the person Marcel could call at two in the

morning if she needed help with anything or just wanted to talk.

They were very different people—a good mixture of personality

and temperament—and were extremely devoted friends. They

had been through much worse, and Marcel knew she would get

through this as well.

Cricket answered the door, and Marcel smiled as she handed

over the bottle of wine. “It has a cork in it, so I know it’s not

exactly what you’re used to.”

1 Peggy J. Herring

Cricket took the bottle and inspected its label. Amanda stuck

her blond head around the corner of the kitchen and gave a left-

handed salute.

Damn, Marcel thought as she waved to her. No one should look

that good.

“How many more days?” Amanda asked.

“Thirty six,” Marcel said. Even though her upcoming

retirement from the Army was getting closer, Marcel chose not

to focus on it for very long. The Army had been more than just

a job or a career to her. It was a way of life and so much a part of

everything about her that even now it was hard to imagine being

without it.

“Is your mother planning a party?” Cricket asked.

“I hope not, but it wouldn’t surprise me.”

Cricket placed a tray with an assortment of cheese and

crackers on the coffee table, then handed Marcel a caffeine-free

Diet Coke. Amanda sat on the other end of the sofa from Marcel

and tried one of Cricket’s hors d’oeuvre creations.

“Have you met Marcel’s mother yet?” Cricket asked Amanda.

“Lord have mercy, what a fox,” she said as she popped a cracker in

her mouth. “Too bad you take after your father, Marcel, honey.”

Amanda laughed and glanced at Marcel. “I hope you at least

get some respect at work, because it looks like you aren’t getting

any around here.”

Cricket sat down on the floor with her back resting against

Amanda’s legs. “Dinner in five minutes,” Cricket said. “So what’s

your mother-the-babe up to these days? Wow. Remember the

crush I used to have on her?”

“Used to have?” Marcel said. “You’ve thought she was a babe

ever since we were fifteen.”

Cricket sighed at the memory. “She was a babe then, too. I

only dated you so I could be close to your mother, you know.”

Marcel laughed. “Like that was a secret.”

Dinner consisted of green-bean casserole, oven-fried

chicken, corn on the cob, and salad, which Cricket insisted were

all Marcel’s favorites. During dinner the conversation stayed

light and friendly, with Marcel cleverly steering the topic away

from herself and retirement and more toward Cricket and

Calm Before The Storm 1

her students. Cricket was the kind of person who was often

mistaken for younger because of her views about life and how

it should be lived. As an eighth-grade history teacher who

enjoyed what she was doing, Cricket could always be counted

on for a good story or two. Her students loved her, and she took

her job seriously.

“I had this one student ask me who Richard Stands was,”

Cricket said as she helped herself to another scoop of green bean

casserole.

“Richard Stands,” Marcel repeated. “So who is he? I’ve never

heard of him either.” She wanted to keep Cricket talking and

give her a chance to do what she did best. Marcel reasoned that

the more the conversation centered around Cricket and her zoo

of a life, the less opportunity there would be for Marcel to dwell

on Amanda.

Damn, Marcel thought as she stood her corncob up on end

and sliced the kernels off into a neat pile. Amanda and those

incredible eyes to die for. Those adorable freckles sprinkled across her

nose. And that north Texas accent that slips out when she’s surprised or

angry. Damn, damn, damn. Cricket, you wench, how is it possible that

you found this woman first?

Exasperated, Amanda finally asked, “So who is he? I’ve never

heard of Richard Stands either.”

“The guy in the Pledge of Allegiance,” Cricket said as if they

were both as dense as fruitcakes. “Richard Stands. You know. ‘I

pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America and

to the Republic for Richard Stands.’”

Marcel and Amanda looked at each other with matching

puzzled expressions before they started to laugh.

“This kid said he’d heard of the guy for years and had been

reciting his name forever but didn’t know who he was,” Cricket

said.Marcel chuckled. “My goodness. You do have your hands

full.”“So what did you tell him?” Amanda asked.

“I enjoy inquisitive teenagers,” Cricket said. “I wrote the

pledge on the board and explained what they’d been agreeing

to all these years. Word by word. After that we had a very lively

1 Peggy J. Herring

discussion about the flag. We discussed burning it and seeing it

as only a symbol. They have some passionate views already. I was

encouraged.”

As the evening continued, Marcel was glad to see that all

night only one incident had made her uncomfortable. While

going into the kitchen just before dessert was served, Marcel

found Amanda reaching for brandy glasses on a top shelf, her

smooth, tanned legs with their perfect calf definition.. her khaki

shorts revealing just enough thigh to make Marcel’s heart skip a

beat. Marcel managed to retreat into the dining room and focus

her attention on a basketball game on television.

Marcel and her future business partner, Carmen Morales,

were sitting in Carmen’s kitchen brainstorming where to locate

their new antique furniture business. Carmen and Marcel had

been friends ever since serving a tour in Korea together several

years ago. Marcel had been the battalion commander while

Carmen served as the command sergeant major. They had many

things in common, including listing San Antonio as a home of

record, being lesbians in the Army, and having a deep love of and

appreciation for old furniture. They had spent many evenings in

Marcel’s office talking about what they wanted to do when they

retired, and they kept going back to the exact same thing each

time.Carmen would be retiring first, but she had a few family

things to tend to before she could concentrate on opening any

type of business. They both recognized the workings of fate

when it came to how their paths had crossed, and Marcel loved

talking about opening up her own antique shop when she was

finally out of the Army.

Ideas and dreams were tossed about and discussed after-

hours, and then came the more focused vision of what they

would do “if.” As their talks continued and became more serious,

Marcel and Carmen made a promise to consider going into

business together at some point in the future, and from there

the idea for the Antique Villa was born.

Calm Before The Storm 1

They had both been making individual arrangements to

be reassigned to Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio, Texas, for

their last tour of duty in the Army. With Fort Sam being the

Army’s only training center for all medical personnel, getting

an assignment there had never been a problem as long as it was

applied for early enough. Carmen had started her Army career

as a combat medic, while Marcel’s area of expertise had been

medical supply and logistics. Marcel had been assigned to Fort

Sam twice already, and slots for her job title and rank were

always open. Carmen’s options had been a bit more limited,

but she had also found a slot and eventually retired in the San

Antonio area.

With carpentry and woodworking as hobbies, Carmen

supplied the furniture expertise to the adventure that she and

Marcel were pursuing, while Marcel had a large portion of the

capital and an avid interest in shopping for and purchasing old

furniture. Separately the two of them had expensive hobbies,

but together they hoped to be incredibly successful in the world

of antiques. They had been carefully planning this venture

for almost eighteen months now, and they were ready to start

devoting some serious time to it.

As far as location was concerned, Carmen had her mind set

on one of the yuppie areas near downtown San Antonio; Marcel

wanted to explore something outside of town on the interstate.

“What we make in profit,” Carmen reminded her, “we’ll end

up spending on gas just to get there.”

Marcel eventually relented and was willing to consider

Carmen’s yuppie idea, but she insisted on finding a place with

adequate parking. And in Yuppieville—Anywhere, USA—

parking was virtually nonexistent.

“Let’s spend the weekend driving around and checking

things out,” Marcel suggested. “I need to get a feel for whatever

neighborhood we decide on. It needs to feel right, you know?”

Carmen set a steaming bowl of menudo down in front of

her and topped off their coffee mugs with the last of a nice decaf

French Roast. Marcel loved watching Carmen putter around

in the kitchen. Carmen’s entire house always had such a warm,

homey smell, like cookies fresh from the oven or soup simmering

1 Peggy J. Herring

on a back burner. If you were in Carmen’s house for very long,

you’d better be prepared to eat something.

“I’ve got a few places in mind,” Carmen said. “Should we go

together or do our own thing and compare notes later?”

“Do our own thing first,” Marcel said. She stirred the

concoction in her bowl and blew on its contents. Carmen was

across the table from her, engrossed in her own steaming bowl.

Seeing Carmen in a worn flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up

made Marcel smile. Carmen always looked comfortable in her

clothes no matter what she wore. Never one to move quickly or

make a hasty decision, Carmen Morales was the most sensible

person Marcel had ever known. Going into business with her

sounded better and better every day, and Marcel was looking

forward to it.

“Can I ask you something?” Marcel said. She had recently

noticed how she’d been getting sentimental about certain things

lately. After twenty years in the Army and four years before that

at West Point, Marcel wasn’t sure how easy the transition into

civilian life would be. Military traditions and responsibilities

were such a big part of her, and Marcel loved her job and she

loved the Army. She had given over half of her life to it, and all

of that was about to end.

“You know you can ask me anything,” Carmen said, noting

her seriousness.

Marcel shrugged, a little embarrassed by the emotion she

felt. “You were in a lot longer than me.” She stirred her menudo

and pretended to be interested in it. “How hard was it at first,

once you retired. How much did you miss it?”

“I still miss it,” Carmen said. “And it’s very hard in the

beginning.” She laughed. “I still get up in the mornings and

realize that I have to decide what to wear. In the Army I never

had that problem.”

They laughed and became pensive again. Carmen continued.

“But the difference for me was finally having the freedom to be

who I really am for the first time in my life.”

Marcel nodded. She understood completely.

“Being a lesbian in the military,” Carmen said, “especially

one like me who couldn’t hide it if I tried, is not an easy thing. I

Calm Before The Storm 1

had to put up with a lot, and I’ve experienced the discrimination

and hatred of a straight, white man’s Army. But I never blamed

any of that on the Army.” Carmen smiled. “I loved it and I’d do

it all over again. I think you feel the same way.”

“Yes,” Marcel said. “I do.”

“But retirement brings with it a freedom from oppression.

A sense of release from all the nonsense that went with it, and

that’s what I remember now. I gave it all I had, and it was good

to me. So to answer your question about do I miss it or not, my

answer is yes and no. But mostly no.”

They laughed together again and resumed eating. Marcel

hoped to have similar feelings when her time finally came.

Late Sunday morning, they were back in Carmen’s kitchen

to compare notes on what they’d found during the week. As they

chattered away, Marcel watched Carmen’s hands work at the

soft little white ball until a tortilla appeared in front of her eyes.

Carmen tossed it on the grill and stirred something in a steaming

pan. Carmen told her one time that when she was growing up it

had been her job to make the tortillas for the family before each

meal. She had seven brothers and four sisters — all still living in

San Antonio.

“My brothers would select a tortilla and hold it up so the others

could guess which state it was,” Marcel remembered Carmen

saying. Marcel laughed as she inspected the last tortilla placed on

the plate, noting how it resembled Colorado in a strange way.

“So whatcha got?” Carmen asked as she poured fresh

decaf coffee into their mugs and then set the chorizo-and-egg

concoction down in the center of the table. “I hope you’ve done

better than I did. I found some nice locations, but there’s no

parking. And I agree with you on the importance of parking.”

Marcel shrugged. Her search for a satisfactory location near

the interstate hadn’t produced any favorable results either. But it

was still too early.

“We’ll keep looking,” Marcel said. “I don’t want to rush into

anything.”

0 Peggy J. Herring

Later that same afternoon, Marcel was home alone and

enjoying the peace and quiet. Her mother was in Munich for

several days either making a lot of money or else signing over

the deed to some exotic mansion somewhere. Marcel often

wondered when her mother would get tired of the traveling

and the challenge of staying competitive. Roslin seemed quite

capable of taking care of herself and always landed on her feet,

but she wasn’t getting any younger.

The telephone rang, and against Marcel’s better judgment,

she answered it. If it turned out to be the battalion CQ, then

it would mean one of her troops was in trouble, most likely in

jail. And if it was anyone else, then she’d almost consider it a

blessing.

“Hey, you’re home,” Cricket said. “I never expect a live voice

when I call someone anymore.”

“You’ve reached a live person here. What’s up?”

“Dinner,” Cricket said. “We hardly ever see you these days.”

Marcel wasn’t sure what excuse to use this time. She didn’t

want to spend another Sunday afternoon being careful about what

she said or where her eyes might tend to linger. Being around

Amanda was getting harder and harder, and Marcel didn’t feel

like being on guard today.

“Maybe some other time,” Marcel said. “My mother might be

calling from Munich, and I’ve missed one call from her already.”

“Munich,” Cricket said with a sigh. “You know that’s always

been one of my fantasies — to be kept by your mother and travel

all over the world as her sex slave.”

“I’ll be sure to pass that along to her.”

“So how about we come over there?” Cricket said. “We’ll

bring the fajitas and beer. You can still sit by the phone, and we

can play cards or something.”

Just from the tone of her voice, Marcel could picture Cricket

with a hand on her hip and ready to start in on a lecture.

“You’ve bugged out on us the last three times we’ve invited you

somewhere,” Cricket reminded her. “What’s up with that? Was it

something I said? Something I didn’t say? What, what, what?”

Marcel rolled her eyes. She should’ve known. “I’ve got the

beer and the cards. You can bring the fajitas.”

Calm Before The Storm 1

Chapter three

Marcel answered the door and let Cricket and Amanda in.

Cricket shifted a cumbersome Taco Cabana bag into her other

arm and gave Marcel a hug. Amanda smiled and handed over a

box from a popular bakery.

“My word,” Amanda said. “What a beautiful house.” Her

eyes sparkled as she slowly turned in the foyer. “I had no idea

you lived here. I’ve admired this place since I was a kid.”

“Really?” Marcel said. “My mother acquired it about three

years ago. It’s so big that she’s afraid to stay here alone.” She

led the way to the formal dining room where the lighting was

better. “I learned very young to never completely unpack when

I’m living with my mother,” Marcel said. “Her next phone call

could be centered around telling me we’ve got twenty-four hours

to move.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Amanda said.

Peggy J. Herring

A few months ago, Marcel would have enjoyed teasing her,

but it didn’t feel right any longer. Every word Marcel uttered in

Amanda’s presence suddenly seemed like flirting.

“I wish I were,” Marcel said. “My things stay in boxes with

little wheels on them. Comes with the territory.” She began

setting the table and didn’t realize how hungry she was until

Cricket opened the carton of fajitas and filled the room with that

rich, savory aroma.

“Why don’t you get your own house?” Cricket asked. “With

the kind of money you have, you could’ve been unpacked and

settled years ago.” She scooped up some guacamole and spread

it on her taco.

“You just never know in this business,” Marcel said. “I

could’ve been on my way to Bosnia at a moment’s notice. Those

days weren’t exactly fun. But now that I’ve decided to retire,

I plan to become a more solid citizen. With lesbian roots and

everything.” She glanced around the room at the dark trim

along the high white ceiling. The house had many fine, elegant

features. “I’m not sure I could get my mother to leave this place

though. She likes it here, and she likes the idea of my being with

her.”“If you get your own place, just make sure it’s big enough for

the two of you,” Cricket said reasonably. “I can’t imagine such

an arrangement with my mother, but yours is great. I could live

anywhere with your mother. Easy.”

“My mother doesn’t want to live with me,” Marcel said. “She

wants me living with her. It’s a parent-child thing. This is her way

of making up for the lousy childhood she thinks she gave me.”

Cricket raised an eyebrow. “Try that one again. You had a

great childhood. You traveled all over the world. You were by

her side every minute of every day until you were twelve years

old. You were more like sisters than anything else. Every child

should feel so loved.”

Marcel smiled. “You and I know that, but when I tell her such

things she never believes me. She prefers to remember the nights

a few years later when she had to call me and say, ‘Sorry, baby. I

lost the Ponderosa.’ That was always my cue to start packing up

our belongings. We’d be moving.”

Calm Before The Storm

Cricket chuckled. “And they’d move from one nice place to

another nice place. Never a dump. Always moving up, up, up.”

Amanda shook her head. “I don’t get it. Why would she

gamble away your home?”

Marcel glanced around the enormous room with its antique

furnishings and priceless art—the Monet on the far wall set off

by cleverly placed track lighting and the antique French cherry

armoire from the Louis Philippe period.

“I think it’s a tax thing,” Marcel said delicately. “My mother

has an aversion to paying them. I don’t ask and she doesn’t tell, but

I’m under the impression that the IRS doesn’t know she exists.

It’s a complicated issue and something we seldom discuss.”

“I’ve always thought of your mother as some kind of spy or

something,” Cricket said with a twinkle in her eye. “Deep into

international intrigue.”

“Hardly,” Marcel said. She remembered how her mother

used to tease her about being such a little patriot. They had

spent many nights discussing ethics and moral behavior, and

debating the evils of the Internal Revenue Service. Roslin

believed that any tax on one’s income was an illegal tax and

didn’t have to be paid. Roslin’s association with one particular

group of gamblers had reshaped her philosophy about money

several years ago. Roslin shared her winnings with no one—

especially a government that spent taxpayers’ money so

frivolously. Marcel had heard the arguments scores of times

over the years and had finally learned to accept her mother’s

position and move on. They had agreed to disagree. Marcel

paid taxes. Her mother didn’t. Marcel got the impression once

that her mother had even denounced her American citizenship

in some sort of official capacity, but it was never confirmed.

That was another issue they didn’t discuss.

“Oh,” Cricket said. “Speaking of that don’t-ask-don’t-tell

nonsense, when is your retirement ceremony? Don’t they have a

parade or something formal for you?”

“Yes,” Marcel said. “A change-of-command ceremony and

then a retirement ceremony. It’s really no big deal, but you’re

both invited, of course. Invitations aren’t necessary.”

“I remember when you graduated from West Point,” Cricket

Peggy J. Herring

said as she swooned and clutched her chest. “All those women in

uniform. Lord have mercy!”

“Oh please,” Marcel said.

“I flew up there with her mother,” Cricket explained excitedly

as she reached over and grabbed Amanda’s hand. “It was like a

double dose of heaven. West Point women and sharing a room

with her mother in a cozy hotel.”

Marcel could feel that dreaded sinking sensation rushing

through her again at just seeing Cricket and Amanda touch. She

hated feeling this way — absolutely hated it.

“Yes, yes, yes. All those women and Roslin,” Cricket said

dramatically as she fanned herself with a limp tortilla.

Amanda snatched her hand back away from her. “I never

realized you had such a thing for older women.”

“Not all older women,” Cricket informed her. “Just this one.

I dream about her and fantasize about her all the time. Always

have and always will! And you needn’t worry, darling. Roslin

thinks I’m a bozo.”

Marcel laughed. “You are a bozo, but that’s neither here

nor there.” She went to the kitchen to get them more beer and

returned to find her guests playfully feeding each other fajita

morsels. Jesus, it’s gonna be a long night, Marcel thought wearily.

It occurred to her then to maybe drink more than she had

originally intended to that evening, but she decided against it.

Marcel had never been one to cry in her beer, and she refused to

start now. She was determined to get past the infatuation she had

with Amanda. Lately a large amount of energy had been spent on

keeping her hormones and irritation under control. Dyke drama

was something she wasn’t accustomed to dealing with.

As the evening continued, they played hearts and discussed

a wide array of subjects that eventually included the Civil War,

the Australian Open, and the latest movie getting panned by

the critics. When Roslin finally called at eleven-thirty, Marcel,

Amanda, and Cricket had just finished partaking of cheesecake

and decaf coffee and were almost ready to call it a night. Marcel

could tell by the sound of her mother’s voice on the phone that

she had done well during this trip. Roslin had what Marcel

liked to refer to as her “three-glass” voice, where, after three

Calm Before The Storm

glasses of wine, she would become a bit more animated than

usual.

“You weren’t sleeping, were you?” Roslin asked, always her

first question whenever Marcel answered the phone.

“Of course not. You know better. Cricket and Amanda are

here keeping me company.”

“I see,” Roslin said with mock severity. “How many times have

I told you, young lady, no wild parties in the house while your

mother is away.” Roslin cut loose with her three-glass laugh.

Marcel chuckled and shook her head as she remembered that

line from her hectic high school days. Her mother’s memory and

ability to retrieve even the most trivial information never failed

to surprise her.

“So things are going well?” Marcel asked. “I won’t have to

change my name or anything?”

“It’s been a while since things were that bad.”

“Hold on. Cricket wants to talk to you.” Marcel handed the

phone to Cricket, who was waving her hands for her chance at

the phone.

“You’re an amazing woman,” Amanda said suddenly. “Has

anyone ever told you that?”

Startled, Marcel looked at Amanda for the first time all

evening. She had earlier made it a point not to do so since she

imagined that her thoughts and desires could be reflected in her

eyes.“Uh.. no,” Marcel said, answering Amanda’s question.

“What makes you think so?”

“Your confidence and the way you don’t take yourself too

seriously.” Amanda tidied up by collecting napkins, plates, and

silverware. “Cricket adores you. It used to make me jealous until

I realized how silly it was.”

“You’re right,” Marcel said as she began helping with the

cleanup effort. This was the longest conversation they’d had in

weeks, and already she was enjoying it too much. “Being jealous

of me is silly. Cricket and I haven’t been lovers in months.”

“Months?” Amanda gasped as she dropped a fork on an empty

plate. The noise seemed to bounce off the walls and echo down

the long hallway. “Did you say months?”

Peggy J. Herring

Marcel laughed. “I’m teasing you.”

“I think I need another drink,” Amanda said as she collapsed

in her chair, picked up a stale tortilla, and playfully began fanning

herself with it.

“Really,” Marcel said as she silently chastised herself for

wanting to prolong the banter. “It’s been twenty-five years if it’s

been a day for us. Cricket and I were curious bumbling teenagers

together. Lucky to escape with our friendship intact.”

Fingers snapping across the room caught their attention

as Cricket held up the phone and said, “I’m through flirting

with your mother. Now she wants to talk to you again for some

reason.”

“Imagine that,” Marcel said as she took the phone back.

Cricket kissed her on the cheek. “It’s late. We’ll let ourselves

out. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Marcel watched them gather their things and wave. Amanda’s

smile sent a little surge of energy zipping through Marcel’s heart.

I have to stop seeing so much of them, she thought again for the

twentieth time. I have to.

Initially it seemed like just another ordinary day, but in

reality this one was very different from any other in Marcel’s

life. Marcel had gotten three hours of uninterrupted sleep the

night before, which made her feel rested and refreshed. She was

ready, and felt as though she’d waited her whole life for this.

The weather was promising to cooperate for the outdoor

ceremony later that afternoon, and everything appeared to be

going well. She added the finishing touches to her impressive

uniform as it hung from the closet door in her room. The time

for true sentiment had arrived, and even though Marcel tried

shooing it away without another thought, her eyes still misted

over occasionally. She’d given the Army the best years of her

life. The sacrifices had been numerous, but so had the rewards,

and she was ready to close this chapter of her life and begin

something new.

Roslin got up early as well, and the two of them had coffee

Calm Before The Storm

and toast together. Marcel knew that her mother could tell she’d

been crying already. Marcel wanted to get the majority of this

emotional upheaval out of her system before she had to go to

work and put on her colonel’s face one last time.

“Never in a million years would I have thought you’d stay in

for twenty,” Roslin said in amazement.

Marcel shrugged. “That was never my intention, of course,

but the promotions were always there and good assignments

outnumbered the bad ones.” With a smile she added, “And the

next thing I knew I had too many years invested to get out.”

“Any regrets?”

“A few.”

“Some I know of.” Roslin got up and kissed her daughter

on top of the head. “You look very intimidating in uniform, my

sweet. You’ll miss that. I know this is hard on you, but you’ll be

fine.”“I know.” Talking about it was threatening to upset her. “I

just need to stay busy.”

That afternoon there was a luncheon for her where General

Wheatly spoke eloquently in Marcel’s behalf. Roslin was there

too, delighting Marcel’s coworkers with her unending tales of

adventure from all parts of the world. Roslin loved being around

people in the military; travel was just one of many things she

had in common with them. She had either been through, to, or

close to almost any city where they could’ve been born, and she

had been in a poker game in every corner of the world where

any one of them could’ve been stationed. Roslin was charming

and personable, and had passed on that particular trait to her

daughter. Mother and daughter had a sense of presence about

them — a stateliness with smooth, delightful edges. They looked

nothing alike, but they had similar mannerisms and keen senses

of humor. Along with Cricket Lomax, Marcel considered her

mother to be a dear friend and confidant.

Jordan Wheatly, General Wheatly’s young tennis-playing

wife, was there at the luncheon too, sitting on the other side

Peggy J. Herring

of Marcel. Jordan made sure their elbows constantly touched

and that Marcel’s thigh was adequately appreciated each time

Jordan rearranged her napkin in her lap. Marcel didn’t want to

make a scene, so she pretended to ignore her while carrying on

conversations all around them, but Jordan seemed to become

more bold as time went on. She leaned over and whispered

outlandish, suggestive things in her ear and enjoyed seeing the

flash of anger in Marcel’s eyes.

“What are you saving it for?” Jordan whispered. “Or should

I say who are you saving it for?”

“Please keep your hands to yourself,” Marcel said through

clenched teeth. But after the Christmas party fiasco, she thought,

why should anything this woman does surprise me?

“You kissed me back after tennis the other day,” Jordan

whispered with a smirk. “Those lips don’t lie. You want it as

much as I do.”

“You’re a beautiful woman, Jordan,” Marcel whispered in

return, “but you’re also one of the most selfish people I’ve ever

known.”

“Is that what you think of me?”

“Sex is the only thing that interests you, and you don’t care

who you hurt when you’re trying to get it.”

“You’re wrong there. I’ve wanted you for a long time. If you

hadn’t been so worried about your precious career, we could’ve

had some good times together.”

For emphasis she rubbed Marcel’s thigh again and pushed

Marcel’s skirt up a little, and had it not been for the long

tablecloths, the entire restaurant would have known what was

going on. Marcel selected a silverware piece and from under the

table gave the back of Jordan’s hand a nice whack. The yelp that

followed made Marcel feel vindicated for the time being, but

after a few minutes Jordan leaned over and whispered, “I knew

you’d get around to forking me sooner or later.”

Marcel slowly shook her head and tried not to smile, but they

both ended up laughing. Marcel again tried to concentrate on

the other conversations around her, but the little minx beside

her still wasn’t finished.

“There’s something about you, Marcel,” Jordan whispered.

Calm Before The Storm

“I don’t know what it is, but it makes me want to tease you until

you squirm. Until you lose control and finally submit. By the

way, Big Boy’s leaving for Panama tomorrow. We could get a lot

done while he’s gone.”

There were times when Jordan reminded Marcel of a

gangster’s girlfriend — very sexy and more than able to get just

about anything she wanted. She had little nicknames for certain

people and often called her husband “Big Boy” when he wasn’t

around. Once Marcel even heard her refer to the General’s aide

as “Buffalo Butt.” Jordan was smart and knew how to use her

femininity to her advantage. Marcel thought of her as the most

clever and dangerous person she knew. Smacking the General’s

wife or defending herself with an array of restaurant utensils

wasn’t productive, and Marcel knew that. She did consider,

however, since Jordan liked attention so much, that maybe

ignoring her would be the smartest thing to do. It was obvious

that Marcel couldn’t complain about her to anyone, and Jordan

used that to her advantage as well. Marcel felt fortunate to

have survived Jordan’s rapt attention as long as she had under

the circumstances, but all of that was nearly over now. After

today there was nothing Jordan could do to hurt her career any

longer. Marcel would finally be free from all the games and

confrontations.

Having finally reached her limit with the verbal innuendoes

and thigh touching, Marcel abruptly moved her chair back and set

out to mingle with her luncheon guests while they ate. She went

from table to table, talking with them and thanking everyone for

coming. Several asked about her plans after retirement.

“Antiques,” she said, smiling engagingly. “Buying and

selling. I don’t have any business cards yet because we don’t

have a building, but get ready for our grand opening coming up

soon.”

Much later, after everyone had finished their lunch and

the chattering had begun again, Marcel was given the Legion

of Merit award and had to endure a mini-roast from various

department chiefs in the command. She was well liked, and

Marcel’s reputation as a fair and dynamic leader was evident in

their remarks. When it was Marcel’s turn to address the group,

0 Peggy J. Herring

she swallowed hard and forced the lump in her throat back into

place. She was determined not to cry, and she didn’t. Her voice,

however, took on a husky quality during her parting words.

Roslin, Cricket, Amanda, and Carmen came toward the

end of the day for Marcel’s change of command ceremony, a

formality where Marcel actually relinquished the command of

the battalion to her replacement. The troops, in formation by

company, sweltered in the heat even though a nice breeze was

blowing. After that came the retirement ceremony where Marcel

and three other officers were honored. The Army band played

its brassy tunes while medals were presented and given out and

hands were shook.

Marcel met up with her friends and family afterward and

teased her mother about crying. Marcel herself had felt that

lump return to her throat more than once during the band’s

rendition of “Stars and Stripes Forever.” It was a relief to have

the formalities over with, and even though Marcel had been

there every step of the way, none of it seemed real to her yet.

“Who’s the blond babe that keeps checking you out?”

Cricket whispered as she nodded toward Jordan. “She hasn’t

taken her eyes off you the entire time we’ve been here.”

“I noticed that too,” Amanda said.

“You’re both being silly. That’s Jordan Wheatly. The

General’s wife.”

Cricket let out a gasp and then tugged on Marcel’s sleeve

excitedly. “You mean the one who cornered you in the kitchen

at Christmas? The one who leaves little love notes under your

windshield wiper? Omigod! Are you nuts? Why are you dodging

this woman?”

Marcel cringed at each reminder. She had forgotten that she

had told Cricket about the Christmas kiss and the notes. Seeing

her discomfort, Cricket said, “Oh, Marcel, honey. You’ve gotta

loosen up, girl. There’s a great big lesbian world out there just

waitin’ for you!”

“I’m as loose as I plan to get for a while.”

Cricket laughed. “Then at least introduce us to her. She’s

hungry for. .for companionship, I’m sure. Which one of those

old farts is the General?”

Calm Before The Storm 1

Amanda and Marcel looked at her in utter disbelief, but

before the festivities were concluded, Jordan Wheatly was well

acquainted with everyone.

Calm Before The Storm

Chapter FOur

Much to Marcel’s initial dismay, Roslin had invited

nearly eighty people to a reception at the Four Seasons Hotel

downtown on the Riverwalk to celebrate her retirement. Marcel

hated surprises and had known nothing about the party, but

the enthusiasm of the guests made her brief annoyance short-

lived.

There was a long, brightly decorated table with a fine selection

of hors d’oeuvres and a fully functioning bar for the guests. The

party was located out on a breezeway where the trickling of a

small waterfall from the river below added enough atmosphere

to make the setting tropical in nature and very relaxing.

Music spilled out from the hotel’s lounge close by, and Marcel

could see Cricket, Amanda, and another woman near the buffet

table deep in conversation with Roslin. Marcel knew she was

Peggy J. Herring

staring, but couldn’t stop herself from wanting her and aching

with desire each time Amanda came into focus. Marcel often

wondered if Cricket knew how incredibly lucky she was. Cricket

had a tendency to bore easily, but she’d been with Amanda longer

than she’d been with most of her other lovers, and Marcel could

easily see Amanda as the perfect woman for Cricket.

Someone brushed up against Marcel, and she felt the presence

of a firm breast pressing into her arm. Jordan then leaned closer

to whisper, “Interested in getting a room for later?” The perfume

gave her away much more quickly than the breast had. “I took

Big Boy to the airport,” Jordan said in a low, throaty voice. “That

gives us the weekend.” Her smile was confident and flirtatious,

and it was evident that she liked what she was doing.

“Why do you waste all of this on me?” Marcel asked simply.

“I’m not interested.”

“This isn’t about you, Marcel. This is about me.” Jordan

smiled again and touched her top lip with her tongue. “I like

being good to me, and I think you’re exactly what I need.”

“And it was so silly of me to think of you as selfish.”

Jordan threw her head back and laughed. “I love teasing you.

I think your indifference to my endearing personality is what

makes me want you so much. If you would just give in a few

times, I’d get you out of my system.”

Up until then, Marcel had never quite understood what Jordan

saw in her or where Jordan had initially gotten the impression

that Marcel would be even remotely interested in sleeping with

her. Now it made a little more sense.

They had been stationed in Germany together about five

years ago. Jordan was a first lieutenant in the Army Nurse Corps

at the same hospital where Marcel was the comptroller. Other

than the fact that Marcel was single and not actively pursuing the

male gender, Jordan had no way of knowing for sure whether or

not Marcel was a lesbian. Marcel had impeccable military bearing

and a no-nonsense attitude about her work; her appearance and

conduct gave nothing away. Only a handful of people knew for

Calm Before The Storm

sure about Marcel’s sexual persuasion, and it was imperative to

her career that things remain that way.

Jordan, however, seemed to always like a challenge. Marcel

had seen her with several members of the women’s softball team

on two occasions, and at another time she had seen her out

dancing with a group of male paratroopers fresh from a training

exercise. It was obvious that Jordan liked holding both ends of

the rope, and that alone was enough to convince Marcel that she

didn’t want anything to do with her.

Jordan’s early interest in Marcel came about through a

confrontation in the hospital parking lot while they were in

Germany. Marcel got to work early one morning and found a

car in her reserved parking space. Marcel parked behind the

car, blocking it in, and then called the military police so a ticket

could be issued before they towed the car away. Needless to say,

Jordan was unhappy when she came out to find them hoisting

her car up in the air. She tried for five minutes to talk the MP

out of a ticket, but only succeeded in angering him even though

he agreed not to have her car towed away.

After that incident, Jordan smirked a lot whenever she met

Marcel in the hallway, and she would occasionally call her up

with bogus hospital budget problems just to keep in touch.

Marcel never quite trusted her. Hanging out in crowded elevators

seemed to be one of Jordan’s favorite pastimes, and one day in

a full elevator Jordan positioned herself behind Marcel while

she proceeded to rub Marcel’s butt in a slow, deliberate fashion.

There was no place to go and no way to move. Marcel turned

her head and gave her a get-your-hands-off-my-ass look, which

Jordan answered with a sweet smile and a silent air kiss.

All of this predated the Department of Defense’s policy on

sexual harassment, but Marcel had ways of her own to handle

such behavior, a few of which included taking the stairs instead

of an elevator, having her secretary screen all of her calls, and,

even more effective, consuming garlic. Not long after that,

Colonel Wheatly assumed command of the hospital.

Colonel Harlan Wheatly was an orthopedic surgeon on the

fast track to general. His wife of twenty years had died two years

prior to his new assignment, and he arrived in Germany with

Peggy J. Herring

his grief finally beginning to relinquish its hold on him. Colonel

Wheatly and Jordan dated and then less than six months later got

married. Jordan left the Army, gave up her nursing career, and

seemed to enjoy her new role as a military doctor’s wife. Marcel

was hard pressed to believe that Jordan had changed much, and

her theory was proven correct one day at an intramural tennis

event.

Marcel was changing clothes after her tennis match and

heard the door to the locker room open. Jordan came in and

proceeded to make her move. She kissed Marcel and had a hand

on her right breast before Marcel could even express her shock.

Instead of kissing her back, Marcel knocked her hand away and

said, “What the hell are you doing?” while Jordan’s lips tried to

cover hers again.

“Just trying to be friendly.”

“Anyone could come in here!”

“So that’s the problem?” Jordan said with a winning smile.

“The lack of privacy?”

“I see that getting married didn’t change you much. If

anything, it’s made you bolder.”

“Some things are just irresistible.” Jordan placed her thin,

manicured index finger gently under Marcel’s chin and made

Marcel look at her. “I’m very attracted to you,” she said simply.

“And I know you’re a lesbian.”

“How do you know that?” Marcel asked as she reached for

her shirt on the wooden bench and quickly put it on.

Jordan smiled again and said, “A hunch. And a lot of wishful

thinking. So how about it?”

“I’m sorry, but that’s impossible.”

Jordan tossed her blond head back and laughed. “You’re

about to hurt my feelings.”

“I’m not interested.”

Jordan touched Marcel’s chin once more and said, “I’m sure

I could change your mind.”

As Marcel gathered up her things, she repeated again that

she wasn’t interested. “I won’t jeopardize my career for a fling

with my boss’s wife. No matter how good you look or how

lonely you are.” Marcel finished buttoning her shirt. “There

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are dozens of lesbians in this hospital who would be very happy

to—”

“I don’t want them. I want you.”

Marcel shrugged and stuffed her clothes in her gym bag.

“You need to reconsider your options.”

Marcel spent the rest of her assignment in Germany dodging

Jordan and became very good at it. Marcel had heard a few weeks

later that Jordan and the new department of nursing chief were

an item, and Marcel reasoned that if she herself had heard about

it, then it probably wouldn’t be long before Colonel Wheatly

knew about it too.

From Germany Marcel was sent to Korea to fulfill her short-

tour obligation, and then twelve months later was assigned back

to Fort Sam Houston, Texas. It was Marcel’s third tour at Fort

Sam, which she considered home, and because of her medical

service corps training, it was an easy place to get assigned to. She

had been back only a year, however, when the Wheatlys arrived,

and Colonel Wheatly was now General Wheatly and the new

commander of the hospital at Fort Sam Houston.

“You need another drink,” Marcel heard her mother say as

she handed her a glass of wine. Roslin was beaming at having

surprised her with a party.

“No kidding.”

“So how does it feel to be retired?”

“I was wondering the same thing. It’s only been a few

hours, but so far so good.” She sighed. “I’ll probably know more

tomorrow when I have no meetings to attend, no papers to sign,

no young careers to shape and mold.”

“Oh, baby. You’ll be okay.”

Marcel sipped her wine and smiled as her mother hugged her.

“How does it feel to have a daughter old enough to be retired?”

“Ouch!”

Marcel laughed and gave her an extra squeeze. “It’s a

wonderful party. Thank you.”

“Carmen, William, and Cricket did most of the work. I just

Peggy J. Herring

came up with the idea and signed the check.” Roslin leaned a

bit closer and whispered, “So. Is it true that the General’s wife

leaves love notes on your car?”

Marcel scanned the crowd in search of Cricket. She found

her with Carmen and an unidentified dark-headed woman near

a gurgling fountain.

“Well, is it?” Roslin asked.

“Yes, it’s true.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?”

“I kept hoping it would go away.” Marcel continued searching

the crowd; she finally saw Amanda on the other side of the

breezeway talking with a small group of people. And it didn’t

surprise her in the least to find Jordan in the middle, vying for

attention.

The next morning, Marcel and Roslin were both slow in

moving around. Marcel’s retirement celebration had extended

well into the wee hours of the morning and had left her feeling

tired and groggy.

Roslin made coffee and cinnamon toast for them, and they

sat around the breakfast nook yawning and stretching.

“So this is it,” Roslin said, indicating Marcel’s robe and

slippers. “This is what retirement looks like?”

Marcel glanced down at her robe. “Must be.”

“And you don’t even care what time it is, do you?”

“I shouldn’t. No.” She looked over at the clock on the

microwave. Morning report and the weekly budget meeting are over

with already. Nope. Don’t miss any of that at all.

“Great party last night,” Marcel said. “I heard several people

say so. Must’ve cost you a bundle.”

“Worth every cent. How often will my only child retire from

something? I’m just glad I lived to see it.”

Marcel laughed. “You talk like you’re ancient. Are you going

with me today?”

“Are you still doing that thrift shop thing? Those places

always smell so funky.”

Calm Before The Storm

After breakfast they loaded up the backseat and the trunk of

Marcel’s BMW with twenty year’s worth of military uniforms

and accessories. Marcel had spent what was left of the morning

reining in her emotions, and having her mother with her was

making it all easier. Once they arrived at the thrift shop on post,

Roslin was less enthusiastic about helping.

“If it smells anything like I remember, I’m not going in,”

Roslin warned with a crinkled nose.

Marcel arched an eyebrow as she lay her dress blue uniform

across her mother’s outstretched arms. “How many of these

places have you ever been in?”

“My Aunt Hattie used to drag me to thrift shops all the time

when I was a kid,” Roslin said, “and they embarrassed the hell

out of me. What would I have done if my friends had seen me

there?” She laughed and gave a playful grunt as Marcel piled more

uniforms on. “We got some good bargains back then though.”

She’s right, Marcel thought as she made her way through

the door to the thrift shop on post. It does smell a little funky

in here. Having her mother with her made the whole process

more fun and less traumatic. To Marcel these uniforms weren’t

just clothes she had worn. This small mountain of green fabric

represented her entire military career. It didn’t surprise her that

she felt emotional, and she wondered how long the transition

would take. Just stay busy, she thought. And that shouldn’t be a

problem! I’ve got lots to do!

By the time the paperwork was signed and Marcel was ready

to go, Roslin had gone shopping and found a nice reading lamp

that she wanted.

“If Aunt Hattie could only see me now,” she said with a wink.

“Ever been to a lesbian bookstore?” Marcel asked her mother

when they finally got back in the car.

Roslin’s what-do-you-think look made them both laugh.

“Then we’re about to broaden your horizons.”

At the bookstore a while later, Marcel was having trouble

deciding which rainbow sticker she wanted to put on her car.

0 Peggy J. Herring

There were about thirty different kinds to choose from. She’d

waited years for this moment, and in a way considered this

particular purchase as her official coming out. As she touched

each sticker, Marcel knew exactly what Carmen had been talking

about. It’s not just the symbols, she thought. Not just a label to buy

and put somewhere for the world to see. It’s the freedom to be here in

this place and the knowing that who I am is no longer something to

hide. “People don’t usually put bumper stickers on a Beemer, hon,”

Roslin informed her.

“This isn’t just any bumper sticker, Mom. This is my life.

The new me. As Carmen says, I’m finally free from oppression

and Uncle Sam’s tyranny.”

Roslin shrugged. “In that case get two.” She picked up the

rainbow sticker shaped like the state of Texas. “I like this one.

You’d better get one for the Miata, too. You can’t be driving

heterosexual vehicles around now that you’re officially gay.”

The cute little butch clerk behind the counter pointed to the

rack of displayed rainbow stickers and said, “I had a straight lady

come in here once and she bought one of each to put on her car.

She said it kept her teenagers from driving it.”

Fifteen minutes later, Marcel had made up her mind about

which stickers she wanted, and much to Marcel’s surprise her

mother had found several things in the store to buy as well.

“I have a question,” Roslin said after a moment. “What

exactly is the point of doing this? Of identifying your car in

such a way? What if a bunch of bubbas found you somewhere

and recognized that sticker for what it is? Aren’t you asking for

trouble?”

“A lot of gay people don’t know what these stickers mean,”

Marcel said. “It’s important that gays and lesbians recognize each

other when we’re out and about. I don’t want anyone assuming

I’m straight.”

“Next you’ll be wanting a tattoo,” Roslin mumbled good-

naturedly.

Calm Before The Storm 1

“You’ve got me beat with that one, now don’t you?”

“A stupid dare from my college days.”

“What are you buying, by the way?”

Roslin held up a puzzle of two nude men in an embrace. “If

Aunt Hattie could only see me now.”

Cricket called at about ten-thirty one evening a few days

later just to talk. Marcel and Carmen had spent most of the day

looking for a place to lease for the business. Marcel was tired

but not sleepy. Sometimes she wondered if she would ever have a

decent night’s sleep again.

“There’s this teacher at school who is really hot,” Cricket

said.Marcel stretched out on the sofa in the living room with her

cordless phone. “Oh?”

“We’ve been eating lunch together at school. I’m thinking

about asking her out.”

Confused, Marcel slowly sat up and said, “You’re what?”

“She’s really cute. She teaches seventh-grade English.”

Marcel was speechless for a moment, but finally said, “What

about Amanda?”

“What about her? We’re free to see other people.”

“Since when?”

Cricket laughed. “Since forever. It’s nothing real serious.

We like each other’s company and the sex is good, but we’re not

thinking about moving in together or anything.”

The sex is good, Marcel thought. Jesus. I could’ve gone another

forty-two years without hearing that.

“She’s really cute,” Cricket said. “Or did I say that already?”

“Yes. You said that already.”

“But I’ve got some reservations about getting involved with

someone I work with. You know what happened with Irma that

time. Christ, what a mistake that was.”

“So is this one a lesbian at least?” Marcel queried with a tinge

of sarcasm. She was upset by this entire conversation. How could

Cricket be interested in someone else when she had Amanda?

Peggy J. Herring

“Yes, she’s a lesbian. I verified that already.” She laughed

again. “Hey, I’m getting Spurs tickets tomorrow. The Lakers

are in town. You interested in coming with us? Amanda’s been

talking about this new restaurant downtown. It’ll be fun.”

“I don’t think so. Thanks.”

“Why not? You never have time for your friends anymore!

Now that you’re retired, you do even less than you used to do.”

“Still not going.”

“Well, if you won’t go to the game, then at least have dinner

with us at the new place, okay? Okay. I’m hanging up now and

making the reservations. Sebastian’s at River Center Mall. Be

there at six.”

Marcel was still peeved at Cricket for several reasons, but

the one that weighed heaviest on her mind at the moment was

the way Cricket had given her no choice but to have dinner

with them Friday night. Marcel wasn’t sure which was worse,

seeing Amanda again or not seeing her again. This was a no-win

situation, and she felt depressed about her options.

Once the three of them were together, however, Marcel felt

a little better. It was easy keeping the conversation flowing with

Cricket at the table. Cricket told them about a school dance that

she had chaperoned and how keeping the kids in the gym and

out of the oleanders had been her biggest problem.

“What about you?” Cricket asked Marcel finally. “How’s the

new business going?”

“We can’t find a building we like. And we’re both pretty

tired of looking.”

“And where are you interested in locating?” Amanda asked.

Marcel mumbled, “Yuppieville,” and then went back to

studying her menu. Her heart seemed to alternate between

fluttering and sinking, depending on how Amanda looked at her

or what she said. Marcel decided right then and there that she

would never put herself in this position again. Maybe it’s time to

tell Cricket how I feel about her girlfriend, she thought with a sigh.

“Amanda’s a Realtor,” Cricket said. “Here you and Carmen

Calm Before The Storm

have been scouring the city looking for a suitable place when

Amanda can probably fix you right up!”

Marcel closed her eyes and slightly nodded. “That’s a

thought.”

“Hey,” Cricket said. “You’ve seen my house and you know

what I paid for it. She’s great!”

“Cricket, please,” Amanda said. Her face was flushed with

embarrassment. Marcel directed the conversation away from

real estate and toward the Spurs and basketball in general. After

dinner Marcel stood on the street corner and watched them walk

toward the Alamodome with scores of other basketball fans, and

more than anything in the world she wanted to be the one sitting

next to Amanda that night.

Calm Before The Storm

Chapter Five

Marcel opened an eye and peeked at the clock on her

nightstand. It was three-oh-one a.m. and everything was as

perfect as she could get it. The temperature in the room was cool,

but not too cool. The house was quiet except for an occasional

popping or creaking that ordinarily accompanied an older home.

The linen on the bed was just right—the sheets clean and crisp,

the light blanket and bedspread folded back in a nice cuff resting

on her shoulder. Marcel always went to bed nude for maximum

comfort so that clothing didn’t have a chance to spoil anything.

The stage was set, and Marcel was its only player—there in bed,

ready and waiting for the miracle of sleep to arrive.

Had she not yawned earlier while talking to her mother on

the phone, Marcel wouldn’t have even considered going to bed

yet, but all the signs had been there and she knew her body was

Peggy J. Herring

beginning to surrender. Without making much of a fuss, she

had hung up the phone, gone directly upstairs, taken off her

clothes, and crawled between the covers. Now all she had to do

was wait.

Glancing at the clock again, she noticed it was only three-

oh-two a.m. If it didn’t happen soon, then she feared it wouldn’t

happen at all tonight and she would have to get up and find

something to do. The false alarms were frustrating, but Marcel

knew better than to think about it. She stayed busy and slept

when she could.

Stretching again and fluffing up her pillow for the fifth time,

she settled back down and adjusted her covers. She closed her

eyes once more, and the next time she opened them it was six-

thirty a.m. She smiled and stretched again, feeling rested and

refreshed. Her batteries had been sufficiently recharged.

It was still dark outside, but Marcel got up, took a shower, and

dressed for the day. She was always conscious of what she liked

to refer to as “bedroom psychology.” She had trained herself to

view her bed as serving only one purpose: It was the place where

she slept. She never read there or watched television there. It was

reserved for sleeping only. Period.

Marcel tried to keep her insomnia from taking over her life,

and she had learned to look at it not so much as a dysfunction

but as a uniqueness associated with her. Some people needed

six to eight hours of sleep a night; Marcel could feel rested and

refreshed after only two. That gave her twenty-two hours a day

to do the things she liked to do, and in a way it all evened out.

She went downstairs and made a pot of decaf coffee. Her

mother was in Denver playing in a high-stakes poker game and

had similar gigs lined up in Kansas City, Reno, and Dallas over

the next few days. Outside, Marcel found the newspaper in the

driveway, and once she was back in the kitchen she located the

classified ads and scanned the pages for any new commercial

property that might be available for lease.

Calm Before The Storm

Marcel and Carmen had plans to meet later and discuss some

new strategy. They both knew that it shouldn’t take this long

to find a suitable building. They were almost to the point of

lowering their expectations. A few minutes later the telephone

rang.“Marcel?” the woman said. “This is Amanda. I hope I’m not

calling too early.”

Amanda, Marcel thought as her heart began to race.

Amanda!

“Hi,” Marcel managed to say, sounding much calmer than

she felt. “Too early? Not at all. What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to apologize for last night and the way Cricket

kept badgering you about using me as your Realtor.”

“Badgering? I didn’t—”

“She put you in an awkward position, and that wasn’t fair to

you,” Amanda said.

Marcel could hear the intensity in her voice, and she wasn’t

sure where it was coming from.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Amanda continued, “but I’ve

noticed a difference in you lately. You’ve been distant and sort of

bored, frankly. If I’ve said or done something to offend you, then

I wish you would tell me.”

“Bored?” Marcel said, confused and surprised. Bored? she

thought. I’m crazy about you, she wanted to say.

“I guess your reasons for disliking me don’t matter,” Amanda

continued in a low, strained voice. “I just thought things were

going well there for a while with the three of us.”

“Amanda—”

“I can recommend several good Realtors for you if you’re

interested. Two are gay, if keeping it in the family is a priority.

I’m sure they’ll be able to help you find what you’re looking for.

This city is crawling with good commercial property for lease.”

“Amanda, please.”

“Please what?” she said, pronouncing the two words as if

they were each long, drawn-out sentences.

Marcel nervously cleared her throat. “I’m sorry if I’ve seemed

a bit spacey lately.” She could feel the momentum building and

that Robicheaux charm beginning to kick in. “With retirement

Peggy J. Herring

and trying to get this new business off the ground, I’ve been

distracted.”

“Distracted is putting it mildly.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know distracted when I see it, Marcel. I also know bored

and indifferent. You haven’t convinced me that there isn’t a

problem.”

“Sounds like you’re unwilling to be convinced.”

“On the contrary.”

Marcel noticed there was less stringency in Amanda’s voice.

“Getting this business started is proving more frustrating than

anticipated. All I seem to do anymore is drive around and look at

buildings that I don’t like when all I really want to do is hang out

at estate sales and repo warehouses and buy old furniture.”

There was a pause before Amanda said, “Well, you’ve sure

been in a pissy mood lately.”

Marcel chuckled and slowly rubbed her eyes. “I’m sure I

have, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Amanda said, the relief evident in her voice. “For

some reason I thought it had something to do with me.”

Marcel closed her eyes and sighed. She couldn’t believe what

was happening. “Sorry to disappoint you,” she lied. Oh, Jesus. .

was that flirting? Am I doing that again? Marcel cleared her throat

and gripped the phone tightly. “I was wondering if. .uh.. it looks

like Carmen and I need a Realtor,” she admitted lamely. “Can we

meet with you sometime?”

Later that afternoon, Marcel and Carmen went to meet

Amanda at an address Amanda had given them in Olmos Park.

Just looking at the place from the outside, Marcel liked it right

away.“This is Yuppieville,” Marcel said as she shielded her eyes and

peered through the huge front window. “And it’s got parking.”

“No other antique shops or furniture stores in the area

either,” Carmen said as she looked up and down the street.

There was no indication that it was for lease other than the

Calm Before The Storm

fact that the place was empty. It was on a busy corner with a

four-way stop and in a nice, affluent older neighborhood.

Someone pulled up, and Marcel turned in time to see

Amanda get out of her Lincoln Town Car. It was a company car,

with Bradford Realty on the side, but impressive nonetheless.

Amanda looked fabulous in a crème-colored dress and matching

heels. Marcel forced herself to keep from staring at Amanda’s

legs. Immediately she knew that this whole arrangement wasn’t

a good idea, but she’d known that from the beginning and it

hadn’t stopped her.

“You found it,” Amanda said. She had the keys to the building

in one hand and a folder in the other. “Hi, Carmen.”

“How long has this place been available?” Carmen asked.

Amanda got the door open, and the three of them went inside.

“About a month now. The previous tenant died unexpectedly,

and the building’s owner lives out of state.”

Carmen suddenly stopped in the middle of the huge room.

“Where and how did the previous tenant die?” she asked.

Amanda held the folder close to her chest and studied Carmen

for a moment, as if trying to determine why the question had

been asked. “He died of a heart attack at his home.”

Carmen turned slowly as she looked at the ceiling and the

bare walls. “Do you feel it, Marcel?”

Marcel had been on alert the moment Carmen had asked her

first question. Carmen was sensitive to certain types of spiritual

energy, and this place had obviously set off some alarms for her

somewhere.

“No,” Marcel said, remembering a few times when she had

experienced something similar just by being close to Carmen in

such a situation.

Carmen cut her eyes over at her and said, “Your mind is

somewhere else.”

Marcel gave her a brief please-shut-up look while Amanda

watched them, puzzled.

“Bad energy or good energy?” Marcel asked. Then with a

smile she added, “Will we have to call a priest if we take it?”

“Good energy,” Carmen said. “Female energy.”

“Very good energy,” Marcel said gleefully.

0 Peggy J. Herring

“What are you two talking about?” Amanda asked.

Carmen stopped turning and gave Amanda her complete

attention. “So far this building has passed three of the four tests

I have for it. There’s parking, it’s in Yuppieville, and it has good

energy.”

“I see,” Amanda said. “What’s the fourth?”

“Can we afford it?” Carmen said with a wink.

Amanda insisted on taking them to lunch, which turned out

to be just as stressful as Marcel had anticipated. Amanda actually

had two other places to show them, so they left Marcel’s BMW

there and let Amanda chauffeur them around in the Town Car.

“What kind of gas mileage do you get in this thing?” Carmen

asked as she closed the door. Marcel had beaten her to the car

and had already staked a claim on the backseat. She didn’t want

to be any closer to Amanda than was necessary.

“It’s pitiful,” Amanda said, “but I get a generous expense

account, so I don’t worry too much about it.”

Marcel had chosen to sit behind Amanda so she saw only

the back of her gorgeous blond head instead of her profile.

Marcel made it a point to stare out the window and was grateful

that Carmen kept the conversation going. A while later when

everyone was quiet, Marcel looked up at the rearview mirror

and saw Amanda staring back at her. Their eyes held for only

a moment before Marcel glanced away. She didn’t trust herself

to look again, and she wondered how long Amanda had been

staring at her and what she had been thinking.

At the restaurant, Carmen was her usual levelheaded self;

she and Amanda worked out the details for leasing the building.

They would sign the papers the next day and then Carmen and

Marcel could begin renovations.

“When do you expect to be open for business?” Amanda

asked.

“Three weeks at the latest,” Carmen said. “I’ll get my

brothers in there, and you won’t recognize the place.”

Amanda asked Marcel, “Will you take consignments?”

Calm Before The Storm 1

“Yes,” Marcel said. After a moment, she noticed them

both looking at her expectantly. “As long as we have the space

available,” she added.

Amanda sighed heavily and directed the rest of her questions

and the luncheon conversation to Carmen. All Marcel wanted

to do was be someplace else—anyplace else as long as she was

away from Amanda. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could

continue this charade. Marcel hated the fact that she might be

in love with her.

On the way back to drop them off at Marcel’s car, Amanda

asked Carmen more specific questions about the business. “I

think you two will do well,” Amanda said as she parked beside

Marcel’s car.

They got out of the Town Car, and Carmen went over to

peek in the store’s window again. Amanda looked at Marcel with

another puzzled expression.

“You’ve been very quiet,” Amanda said.

“We’ve spent weeks looking for a place, and we like the first

one you show us,” Marcel said. “Thank you.”

“Are you sure I haven’t said or done something to make you

uncomfortable?”

“Not at all,” Marcel assured her, but she couldn’t stand there

and have this conversation. She pulled her keys from her pocket

and started around the front of Amanda’s car. “You’ll let us know

what time we can sign the paperwork tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure,” Amanda said as she opened her car door.

“Thanks again.”

Amanda waved at Carmen from her car and stared at Marcel

for a long time. With a push of a button, she rolled down the

window on the passenger’s side and leaned over in the seat and

irritably said, “Marcel, I don’t know what’s going on with you,

or what I’ve done to alienate you, but I find your distance and

indifference very painful. I’m sorry we can’t be friends.” She

pushed the button again and rolled the window back up, then

pulled out of the parking lot and sped away, leaving Marcel

standing there blinking.

Calm Before The Storm

Chapter Six

The following morning Marcel arrived at Carmen’s house

to pick her up for their appointment with Amanda. Carmen had

insisted that Marcel get there early so that they could go over a

few things about the business. Marcel pulled up her usual chair

at Carmen’s kitchen table, and without asking whether or not

Marcel had eaten breakfast yet, Carmen whipped up potato-and-

egg tacos and poured two tumblers of orange juice for them.

“I still can’t get used to the idea that I’m not going to work

in the mornings,” Marcel said.

“Well, that’s about to change.”

“You know what I mean.”

Carmen smiled. “Yes. I know what you mean. We’ll both

have a new routine down before you know it. Remind me to call

Peggy J. Herring

my brother after we leave Amanda’s office. He’ll meet us at the

shop when we’re finished there.”

“Do you think we’ll be able to get the place ready in three

weeks?” Marcel asked. She smiled as she reached for a steaming

tortilla, which looked remarkably like one of the Dakotas.

Carmen nodded. “Sure. As long as you get the utilities turned

on soon. We can’t work in the dark, you know.”

“Hey,” Marcel said with a wink. “I’ve done some of my best

work in the dark.”

Carmen smirked. “Not lately you haven’t.”

Marcel let that remark slide and then promised to take

care of the utilities that afternoon. “When can I start buying

furniture?”

Carmen laughed. “As soon as you get the books set up,

the software for the inventory loaded, our sign ordered and

installed, lines painted in the parking lot, the bank account

opened, merchant card service online for credit cards, our offices

furnished, the windows—”

Marcel shook her head and growled a little. “Forget it. Just

give me a list.”

Marcel wrote a check for two months’ rent and signed the

lease agreement. Amanda was reserved and cool, no doubt a

direct result of Marcel’s attempts to keep distance between them.

Okay, Marcel thought. Mission accomplished. I’ve pushed her away,

and that’s what I wanted. Sliding the papers across Amanda’s desk,

she looked up into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. So why do I feel

like throwing myself under a train? Marcel wondered hopelessly.

“Do you have any questions about the lease?” Amanda asked.

“Or the building?” She leaned over and gave Carmen two sets of

keys. “If not, then I wish you both the best of luck in your new

business. As soon as you’re open, I plan to do some shopping

there.”

Amanda’s pale blue seersucker jacket made her eyes look

radiant, and her white silk blouse and dark blue skirt gave her a

professional and serious demeanor that Marcel was drawn to.

Calm Before The Storm

“Are you looking for a particular piece of furniture?” Marcel

asked. “Or will you just be shopping?”

“I’ll be shopping.”

Carmen stood up, and Marcel knew that she was ready to

go now that they had the keys to the building. Marcel was in a

hurry to leave as well and wasn’t about to let her hormones get in

the way again. Earlier, she’d only been gnawing on those ties to

Amanda, but now it was time to sever them.

“Thanks for your help,” Marcel said.

“I hope it wasn’t too painful,” Amanda replied.

Carmen shoved the keys in her pocket. “We’ve wasted nearly

a month looking for the right building. And no telling how much

gas.” She slapped Marcel on the back. “But we got to know the

city pretty well!”

Amanda opened her office door for them. “I’m glad I could

help. It was nice seeing you again, Carmen.”

“Likewise,” Carmen said.

Marcel waited for Amanda to say something else to her—all

the while wanting her to and then at the same time not wanting

her to—but all Amanda did was continue to hold the door open

and glare at her.

With hands shaking and her heart filling with sadness,

Marcel said, “Thanks again for your help.”

“My pleasure.”

Marcel zipped out of the parking lot and sped through traffic

as though she were driving the getaway car in a bank robbery,

but she came to her senses as soon as she heard Carmen whistling

the theme song to Highway Patrol.

“Don’t you have to call your brother or something?” Marcel

asked with a tinge of irritation.

Carmen rummaged through her backpack and found her cell

phone. After she hung up with her brother, she drummed her

fingers on the dash in a semblance of nonchalance. A few moments

later Carmen said, “Out with it. Why are you treating Amanda

like a third-class citizen? I thought you two got along okay.”

Peggy J. Herring

“We do,” Marcel said. “We get along fine.”

“You said next to nothing at lunch yesterday and even less

today. The tension between you two—”

“I can’t talk about this right now,” Marcel said quietly. “I’m

sorry.”

“Okay.” Carmen glanced out the window. “It’s not like I

don’t know already.”

“Know what?”

“That you think you’re in love with her.”

“I can’t talk about this right now.”

Marcel gripped the steering wheel tightly and took a deep

breath. The hard part is over, she thought. Over and done. Now stop

whining about it.

Renovation work at the shop moved along steadily once

they got started. Carmen and three of her brothers began

transforming the front portion of the interior into a classy

showroom. With Heidi Cooper’s help over the weekend, they

painted the ceiling and walls white and added track lighting to

emphasize the two front windows where they’d have their best

furniture pieces displayed. The woodwork along the baseboards

and doorframes was being varnished, and Carmen was in the

process of refinishing the counter.

Marcel’s tasks seemed just as endless, but each little thing that

she was able to check off her list became a major accomplishment.

By the time Cricket arrived Friday afternoon with enough fried

chicken and French fries to feed everyone, it was easy to see

progress.

“This place is looking good,” Cricket said, “but I hate that

paint smell.”

All work stopped as they followed Cricket and the fried

chicken into what would eventually become Carmen’s work

area.“Where’s your mother?” Cricket asked Marcel as she set the

box of chicken down on a workbench. “Don’t tell me she’s not

here! You think I came just to see you?”

Calm Before The Storm

“She’s in Honolulu,” Marcel said with a laugh. “Won’t be

back until next week, which means you’re stuck with us.”

“But you can go now,” Carmen said. “As long as you leave

the chicken.”

Their laughter echoed through the huge empty space, and

Marcel had a good feeling about what they were doing and where

they were doing it. All that female energy, she thought.

After their lunch break, Carmen and her crew went back to

work on the showroom and left Marcel and Cricket to clean up

the mess made from lunch.

“I have a favor to ask you,” Cricket said after a moment. Her

red hair had that fresh, windblown look, and her voice had taken

on a low, conspiratorial tone.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“I need a fourth for miniature golf tonight.” Cricket picked

up a wad of napkins and stray chicken bones and shoved them in

the empty box. “Say you’ll do it. Please?”

“I’m planning on being tired later,” Marcel said. Hell, she

was already exhausted and sore in a few places she forgot she

had. She’d made a nice dent in her list of things to do today,

and even though none of it was grunt work along the lines of

what Carmen was doing, Marcel was still achy from bending,

reaching, and cleaning the offices.

“I know my timing isn’t the greatest,” Cricket said, “but

I’ve got myself in a bit of a pickle. It’s that new teacher I work

with. I’ve invited her out for miniature golf. .like on a date, sort

of. Well, it’s more like Amanda and I had plans for miniature

golf and I invited Naomi to go with us, sort of.” She shrugged

innocently. “I. .uh.. sort of need for you to be her date.”

Marcel laughed. “Sort of?”

“Yeah. Sort of.”

“Not on your life.”

“But you have to!”

“A blind date? Are you serious? Absolutely not.”

“It’s not like that exactly.”

“It’s not like what exactly?” Marcel said. “Sounds like a blind

date to me. You and Amanda and me and some woman I’ve never

met. What would you call it?”

Peggy J. Herring

“You met her at your retirement party, so don’t give me that

blind date excuse.”

“I don’t remember meeting anyone new at my party.”

“It doesn’t matter. Just do it. I need for you to be there,”

Cricket said. Her voice suddenly had a familiar edge to it, and

Marcel realized that Cricket was close to tears.

“Hey. What’s the matter with you?”

“I said please, already,” Cricket reminded her with a sniff.

“This is important to me. I want—”

“Okay, okay,” Marcel said, puzzled about Cricket’s intensity.

“What’s up with you all of a sudden?”

“I said it was important. Why do you need to know more

than that?”

Marcel nodded. “You’re right. But don’t expect me to be very

good company. I worked hard today.”

Cricket sniffed again. “Then you’ll do it?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Cricket threw her

arms around her and hugged her fiercely. She was so grateful

that Marcel started to feel guilty for ever having said no in the

first place.

Marcel was tired, but not sleepy, and as she got out of the

shower and thought about what she was going to wear that

night, she tried very hard not to be miffed at Cricket. I’m forty-

two years old and going on a date with a woman I can’t remember

meeting. What the hell was I thinking? How did I let her talk me

into this? And not only was there the blind date thing to worry

about, but now Marcel had to spend more time with Amanda.

It had been a week since she and Carmen had signed the papers

in Amanda’s office, and Marcel wasn’t sure if she was up to that

again so soon.

She remembered the directions Cricket had given her, but

more or less found Golf World by accident. Marcel was the first

to arrive and ended up talking to four German tourists who

were waiting their turn to tee off. She enjoyed practicing her

Calm Before The Storm

German on them and talked briefly about places in Germany

which they were all familiar with. Twenty minutes later, Cricket

and Amanda strolled up with a short, petite woman beside them.

The woman had met them on the sidewalk after having come

from a different part of the parking lot.

“Marcel!” Cricket said. “This is Naomi Shapiro. A friend

from school.”

“We met at your retirement party the other night,” Naomi

said to Marcel. “But you were a bit overwhelmed at the time.”

Marcel couldn’t remember ever seeing her before, and Marcel

noticed right away that Amanda was both surprised by, as well

as uncomfortable with, the sudden change of events. Marcel also

recognized the sexual energy in the air and the animation in

Cricket’s eyes and voice as she yakked away. Cricket’s gushing

over this woman was obvious, and Amanda and Marcel briefly

traded questioning looks . . . and once again Marcel was forced to

admit what a stunningly beautiful woman Amanda was. Dressed

in white shorts, a pale yellow shirt neatly tucked in, and new

white sneakers and ankle-high socks, Amanda was definitely

“babe” material, as Cricket would say. The yellow shirt brought

out the blondness of her shoulder-length hair, and just seeing

her again made Marcel’s pulse quicken.

Marcel took a deep breath and decided to focus her attention

on her miniature golf game instead of being pissed at Cricket.

They selected clubs, chose golf balls in their favorite colors,

and decided what order they’d play in. Marcel was up first and

aced the hole, which gave her a chance to stand back and watch

the others play. After two minutes of giggling and whispering

between Cricket and Naomi, a light finally went on in Marcel’s

head. She wasn’t there as Naomi’s “date.” She was there to make

Cricket and Naomi’s first date look less blatant. Focus on your

game and not being mad at Cricket, she reminded herself.

On the second hole, Marcel made another hole-in-one and

let them boo her into a better mood. She had always been good at

this game, and she realized that she might accidentally have fun

despite the irritating behavior Cricket was displaying. Cricket

and Naomi were like two teenagers on a sugar high, and as far as

Marcel could tell, Amanda seemed to be handling it remarkably

0 Peggy J. Herring

well. Had Cricket been Marcel’s lover, however, Marcel would’ve

already left fifteen minutes ago.

When Amanda’s turn approached, Marcel watched with

acute interest as Amanda sank a putt for par and reached down

to retrieve her blue golf ball from the cup. Amanda’s legs were

once again Marcel’s main focus, and they again reminded her

of a grace that bordered on perfection. Marcel couldn’t imagine

having this woman as a lover and then openly flirting with

someone else the way Cricket was doing. Amanda was the type of

woman who could change your whole life with just a smile. Listen

to me, Marcel thought. Thinking like a sappy romantic again.

The only evidence of Amanda’s irritation with Cricket’s

behavior was the way she held her golf club and began tap-tap-

tapping it against the green carpeted surface of the tiny fake

golf course. What was even more amazing to Marcel was the

way Cricket either didn’t notice or didn’t care how her actions

were affecting others. Cricket was in fine form as she turned up

the charm another notch. Marcel had seen this side of her many

times over the years when Cricket was on the trail of a woman

whom she found attractive.

“What a great haircut, Naomi,” Cricket said. “Who does

it for you?” She reached over and touched Naomi’s hair, which

made Amanda’s golf club begin tapping much harder.

“Cricket,” Marcel said. “It’s your turn.”

“Oh! So it is.”

As Cricket stepped up to her yellow ball, Marcel leaned over

and whispered, “If you don’t stop flirting with her, I swear I’m

gonna kick your butt all the way back to the car.”

Cricket’s golf ball zoomed across the sixth and seventh hole

and landed in a fishpond beside the German foursome.

“Look what you did!” Cricket screeched. She whirled

around to see who else had noticed her wayward shot, while the

Germans up ahead were looking back to see where the ball had

come from.

In shock, Amanda said, “Cricket, what are you doing?”

“It was Marcel’s fault!”

The nice German man had fished the ball out of the pond

and was on his way toward them. Horrified, Cricket hid her face

Calm Before The Storm 1

behind her hands while Amanda, Naomi, and Marcel laughed

heartily. Marcel thanked him in German and apologized for her

friend with the bad form and manners. When he left she gave

the ball back to Cricket and said, “We’ll pretend that one never

happened.”

“What did he say?” Cricket asked meekly, still shaking from

the experience.

“He was letting us know that you killed a fish over there. A

direct hit to the head. Now pay attention to what you’re doing.”

As Cricket lined up her putter with the ball again, Amanda

maneuvered closer to Marcel. “You speak German,” she said.

“And very well, from what I heard.”

“I do okay.”

“What other languages do you speak?”

“I’m fluent in French,” Marcel said, “but with a name like

Robicheaux, I guess I should be. And enough Korean to keep me

out of trouble.” From the corner of her eye, she caught Cricket

touching Naomi’s hair again. “Cricket,” Marcel said. “Much

better shot.” She drilled her with a keep-your-hands-to-yourself

look, and Cricket immediately obeyed.

After the game was over, they had coffee at Java Joe’s.

Amanda and Cricket sat on one side of the booth while Naomi

and Marcel were on the other. Amanda was across from Marcel,

which made it hard for Marcel to concentrate on anything else.

Naomi, however, seemed to suddenly discover that Marcel was

there. She fired off several questions and commented on how

young Marcel looked to have already retired. She then asked

about Marcel’s Army career and where she’d been stationed.

“You’re not exactly what I was expecting,” Naomi said.

“Were you picturing combat boots and hand grenades?”

Cricket asked. Everyone at the table laughed, and Marcel took

Cricket’s teasing in stride.

“She cleans up pretty good though,” Cricket said. “I have to

admit that.”

“Was that a compliment?” Marcel asked sweetly.

Cricket smirked and volunteered to get them all coffee refills.

She insisted that Naomi go with her to help carry them. Marcel

made a mental note to have a little talk with her later. Cricket

Peggy J. Herring

had a tendency to get herself into trouble without even knowing

it. “What did you say to her earlier?” Amanda asked, interrupting

Marcel’s thoughts. “Just before Cricket sent that golf ball into

Oklahoma territory.”

Marcel laughed. “I don’t even remember.”

“I see,” Amanda said. “You don’t like questions, do you?”

“Hmm. What makes you say that?” Marcel suddenly wished

that Cricket and Naomi would hurry back. “I don’t mind

questions at all.”

“Or is it questions from me that you don’t like?”

“Where did you get that idea?”

“I asked you a question and you pretended not to

remember.”

“Pretended?”

Amanda leaned back in the booth. “Never mind. It doesn’t

matter.”

“Amanda, I—”

“How is the work on the building coming?” Amanda asked

impatiently.

Marcel was surprised and flustered at Amanda’s irritation. It

had appeared suddenly, and Marcel wasn’t quite sure what to do

about it.

“Work on the building?” Amanda said. “Or is that another

question you’re choosing not to answer?”

Marcel blinked several times and then shook her head.

“Carmen has the renovations under control,” she said lamely.

“Drapes and carpeting are going in tomorrow. It’s shaping up.”

“When will you be open for business?”

“In about a week, hopefully.”

“That’s very ambitious,” Amanda said.

Still a bit uncomfortable with Amanda’s stiff, formal tone,

Marcel said, “They’ve worked hard. And it looks good. You

wouldn’t recognize the place.”

“Maybe I’ll drop by some afternoon next week and check it

out.” After a moment, Amanda seemed to relax a little. “I like

this much better,” she said quietly. “I like the Marcel who has

time for her friends and isn’t quite so preoccupied.” She smiled

Calm Before The Storm

weakly, and Marcel could feel her heart melting in her chest.

“I’ve missed you,” Amanda said. “Whatever’s bothering you I

wish I could fix it.”

You can, Marcel wanted to say. You’re the only one who can.

Emotional honesty was still too new for her since keeping

her feelings under wraps had become second nature. Four years

at West Point and then twenty years in the Army—an eternity of

either being a subordinate or having subordinates. Either way, it

had done little to prepare Marcel for a life outside the military.

She had worked in a man’s world for over half of her life

and had done her job as well as, if not better than, her male

counterparts. Marcel had been yelled at and disciplined by the

best during her lengthy career, and she had done her share of

yelling in return. Marcel’s skin was thick, and she had learned to

depend on her instincts. But Amanda Farley could unravel her

down to the very core with no more than a look, a phrase, or

the mere tilt of her blond head. Those three simple words, I’ve

missed you, had Marcel in a state of paralysis—both emotionally

and physically.

“And then there’s the silence,” Amanda said as her anger and

confusion began to return. “A cool indifference that comes over

you so quickly sometimes. It’s new, and it frightens me.” She

stretched her arm across the back of the booth. “I keep wondering

if it’s something I’ve said or done. Or if there’s something about

me that irritates you. But then I keep reminding myself that

everything can’t always be about me.” She put her elbows on the

table and leaned forward. “So out with it, Marcel. Tell me why

you’re pulling away.” Her voice shook with emotion.

Marcel felt like a rabbit that had accidentally hopped into an

occupied wolf’s den. There was no way out, and she felt totally

powerless. Luckily for her, Cricket and Naomi returned to the

table with their coffee. Marcel knew that she couldn’t let things

continue the way they were. She was going to have to talk to

Cricket about this soon.

Calm Before The Storm

Chapter Seven

The grand opening of the Antique Villa came much more

quickly than Marcel and Carmen had anticipated. At one point,

three weeks had sounded like plenty of time, but the night

before the opening they were still hanging drapes and working

feverishly on selecting which furniture pieces would go where in

order to best accent the huge display windows in the front. Each

piece needed to be in its most flattering light, and they finally

decided to let Roslin arrange everything.

“Decorating isn’t the area of my expertise,” Marcel said.

“Where’s a gay boy when you need one?”

The store was a classy place from almost every angle,

beginning with the curb at the busy street where they were

located and all the way to the utility closet where the brooms

were kept. The parking lot had freshly painted stripes with

Peggy J. Herring

handicapped spaces appropriately designated. Pansies of every

imaginable color lined the sidewalk, and ornate planters

showcased daisies with ivy spilling over the sides.

One of Marcel’s responsibilities had been to get a sign for

the storefront, and she had spent a good deal of time and money

finding one that would preserve the flavor of the building and

the neighborhood and still be unique so that it would draw a

potential customer’s attention. The sign painter whom Marcel

had chosen had done an excellent job, using readable calligraphy

against a tan-and-orange background. The sign had a definite

European flavor to it and was not only the building’s best feature,

but it also added character to the entire block.

Much to Marcel’s relief, the caterer was early for the opening.

The bartender who accompanied them became busy almost

immediately, thanks to Carmen and her brothers. The caterer

was a friend of Carmen’s and consisted of three gay siblings in

their early thirties. The two sisters handled the food preparation

while their brother was in charge of the blender, swizzle sticks,

and all libations. Marcel noticed the strong family resemblance

between them and liked the way they worked together. Roslin

stepped in right away and took over the details about where and

how the food would be set up. Thirty minutes before the guests

were due to arrive, part of the showroom had been turned into

a nice reception area with that savory meatball-swimming-in-

mushroom-sauce aroma, which was causing stomachs to grumble

right away. Carmen admitted to being more fond of the constant

swoosh of the margarita machine as its contents tumbled into a

frozen mixture behind the portable bar.

“It’s like music to my ears,” Carmen said, leaning closer to

the machine and sighing heavily.

As the new owners, Marcel and Carmen met each guest at

the door and welcomed them. Antique Villa tours were given

and little SOLD tags were gradually beginning to appear on

many of the furniture pieces displayed.

Marcel noticed that Cricket, Amanda, Cricket’s new friend,

Naomi, and a few others had her mother surrounded and were

in deep conversation near the mahogany armoire in the corner.

Several people had arrived at the same time with Cricket and

Calm Before The Storm

Amanda, so there had been little opportunity for chitchat with

them. Amanda seemed more distant than Marcel could ever

remember her being. In one way it was a relief, but in another

way it saddened her. Marcel always felt so off balance whenever

she was around Amanda, but keeping her emotions under control

was becoming easier.

Marcel was surprised to see so many of her old coworkers

there, and she gave them all extra-long hugs. It wasn’t until she

saw them again that she realized just how much she missed them.

William, her former secretary, had quickly taken over the tour-

guide duties, while Captain Heidi Cooper volunteered to be the

official door-greeter. Out of uniform, she looked even younger,

and her easygoing manner made her perfect for meeting guests

as they came in. Heidi had been a frequent visitor to the shop in

the afternoons and on weekends during the renovation process,

and she had helped with a lot of the painting and varnishing. It

was evident that she felt comfortable at the shop and knew her

way around.

Family members, most of them Carmen’s, were everywhere.

Friends, acquaintances, old office mates, and members of the

local chamber of commerce, as well as curiosity seekers from

the neighborhood, were all there. The invitations sent and the

flyers posted had produced a lively crowd. Some were dressed in

formal attire, while others wore jeans and sneakers. Marcel and

Carmen dressed up for the occasion, with Carmen in a black

tux, looking remarkably like the bartender, and Marcel wearing

a long gray dress embroidered with tiny flowers at the neckline

with a matching chenille jacket. Several friends teased them

about being such a cute couple. Carmen was what Marcel liked

referring to as a handsome woman. Carmen had that perfect

posture that came from years in the military, and she managed

to keep fit by running every morning. She was taller than Marcel

—in the five-ten range—and had thick, black hair that came just

below her collar in the trendy little-boy style. With the opening

of their new business being something they had talked about and

planned on for years, they were now psyched and ready for this.

Marcel was conscious of the dinging of the door each time

someone came in, as though her head had a string attached to

Peggy J. Herring

the doorknob. She was dumbfounded when she looked up to

see General Wheatly and his wife, Jordan, arrive, since she had

purposely left them off the invitation list.

“General,” Marcel said as she shook General Wheatly’s

hand. “What a surprise to see you!”

“Wouldn’t miss it, Marcel. Retirement seems to have agreed

with you.”

“And Jordan,” Marcel said. Jordan took her extended hand

and then pulled her closer to kiss her cheek.

“You look great, darling,” Jordan whispered breathily. Marcel

wondered if Jordan watched old Mae West movies in her spare

time. “I never miss an opportunity to see you again.”

Marcel removed her hand and asked if she could get them

something to drink. It didn’t take long for others to notice that

the General and his lovely wife had arrived. Marcel introduced

Carmen as her business partner and was relieved when a few

military people began to mingle in their direction. This was a

rare opportunity for them to socialize with the boss, and Marcel

was more than willing to accommodate them.

She stayed busy tending to other guests by answering

questions about furniture pieces and the renovations on the

building. A while later after the crowd had thinned out, Marcel

found herself next to Cricket in the margarita line. It had been

blatantly obvious all evening that Cricket’s infatuation with

Naomi was still an ongoing thing.

“What have you been up to lately?” Marcel asked. Cricket

grinned and sipped her margarita. “You’ve been bad, haven’t

you?”

“But I’m so good when I’m bad.”

“I’d hate to see you screw up something that’s more

important to you than you realize,” Marcel said seriously.

“If you’re referring to Amanda, then stop worrying. I’m just

having a little fun.” She stuck a fresh straw in her drink and

frowned. “If Naomi would stop asking me questions about you

I’d have a lot more fun, but I’m working on that.”

“Questions about me?” Marcel said, surprised. She searched

the crowd and saw Amanda talking to Jordan and Captain Cooper

to the left of them, then found Naomi looking right at her across

Calm Before The Storm

the room. Naomi smiled shyly and looked away again, but only

seconds later Marcel saw her looking back to see if Marcel was

still watching her.

“So,” Cricket said. “I keep telling her that you aren’t her

type.”

“And how do you know what her type is?”

“Because I’m her type, and you and I are nothing alike.”

Marcel rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re doing this,” she

said as she tried to keep her anger in check.

“Doing what? I’m having fun. Amanda doesn’t own me. Jesus,

Marcel. I pity the poor schmuck who finally gets stuck with you.

It’s that attached-at-the-hip attitude of yours that turns women

off.” Cricket laughed and poked her in the arm. “And speaking

of attached at the hip, did you hear about the Siamese twins who

moved to England so the other one could drive?”

Carmen had her bow tie undone and the top two buttons

on her ruffled shirt open as she helped Marcel with the cleanup.

Marcel was tired and knew instinctively that she would have

no trouble sleeping later. She glanced at the grandfather clock

across the showroom and was pleased to see that it was well after

midnight already.

“One of the caterers was asking about you,” Carmen said.

Marcel was caught off guard by the comment, but she didn’t

take it too seriously. “With my luck it was the brother.”

“There you go again,” Carmen said, shaking her head. “As

a matter of fact, it was the cute tall one. Damn it, Marcel. Any

woman who could keep me in edible finger food would have my

undivided attention. What’s the matter with you? It’s like you’re

walking around in a fog these days.”

“You said she asked about me,” Marcel reminded her in an

effort to change the subject. “What did she want to know?”

“She asked if you were single or if you had been in any twelve-

step programs. Drinking habits. Were you dating. Ever married.

You know. The usual.”

Marcel smiled as she threw away a plastic cup with cigarette

0 Peggy J. Herring

butts in it. Since there had been no smoking allowed inside, she

had no idea where they had come from.

“Just tell her I still live with my mother and that should take

care of any other questions she has.”

“It probably would if you had an ordinary mother.” Carmen

stretched until her bones popped. “But your mother’s ten times

cooler than you are.”

Marcel laughed and knew it was true.

“I made some interesting observations tonight,” Carmen

said as she gracefully hopped up on the counter. “And I have a

few questions to ask you.”

“And your observations were?” Marcel asked. These types

of conversations were just one of the many reasons that Marcel

treasured this woman’s friendship. Carmen would tell her things

she needed to know but didn’t necessarily want to hear. In many

ways they were still growing as friends, and each time there was

an intense exchange between them, Marcel was usually left with

a new realization about herself. These sessions weren’t always a

pleasant experience, but the results were usually rewarding.

“Three women were watching you tonight,” Carmen said.

“I talked to all three of them at some point, and got some very

interesting answers.”

“How many of those margaritas did you have?” Marcel

asked skeptically.

“First, there was the caterer,” Carmen said, ignoring her.

“I’ve already told you what we discussed. She did say that you

were hot and that she could really learn to like antiques.”

“Antiques? Hmm. Was she talking about me or the

furniture?”

Carmen grinned. “The furniture. Then there was Jordan

Wheatly. How did you ever get mixed up with that one,

anyway?”

Marcel sighed and let out a frustrated groan.

“She was very interested in who you were seeing and how you

were spending your time. She didn’t sound or act like a woman

who would settle for a kiss and a love pat. There was definitely

lust in her eyes when she looked at you.”

“Oh please,” Marcel said. “She wants a fling. I’m sorry, but

Calm Before The Storm 1

that’s not me.” She leaned against the counter beside Carmen’s

swinging, tuxedoed legs. “And I’m sure if you had watched her

long enough, you could’ve seen that lusty look no matter which

woman she was zeroing in on.”

Carmen laughed. “That’s true. She has an interest in Heidi

Cooper, and she spent some time talking with Amanda. It’s hard

to say what Jordan’s up to.”

“Amanda,” Marcel said with a sigh. She was more than ready

to talk about something else now.

“Yes, Amanda,” Carmen said. “She’s so upset with you that

she wouldn’t even discuss it.”

Marcel could feel her body begin to tingle just hearing

Amanda’s name. “How do you know she was upset?”

“Just a feeling.” Carmen shrugged. “Nothing more. But,”

she said, “there was someone else I got some serious vibes from.

She’s a friend of Cricket’s. I remember her from your retirement

party.”

Naomi, Marcel thought with a chuckle. Cricket’s new

infatuation.

“When she watched you it was with a different intensity than

the other two.”

“Different how?” Marcel asked. Carmen had her attention

now. The first few times they’d had this kind of discussion,

Marcel had been a nonbeliever in Carmen’s uncanny ability to

read people and “know” things, but not anymore. Carmen had

been right too many times to not give credence to her insight.

Marcel was a believer, and she listened carefully now to what

Carmen had to say.

“The other two would like to. .uh.. bed you,” Carmen said

diplomatically. “But this one wants to know you.” The soft thud

of Carmen’s black suede boots against the side of the counter

gradually stopped.

“What about Cricket?” Marcel asked.

When Carmen didn’t answer, Marcel said, “Cricket is

interested in her.”

Carmen nodded. “An unusual little foursome.” Her boots

began lightly thumping against the counter again. “How serious

are you about Amanda?”

Peggy J. Herring

Marcel closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I don’t

know.”

“Have you thought about talking to Amanda about it?”

“Of course not,” Marcel said with a tinge of panic in her

voice.

“So you plan on doing nothing?”

“I’m open for suggestions.”

“Amanda deserves to know why you’re being so weird. And if

you can’t tell her, then maybe you should stop being weird. Have

you tried that?”

“I’ve tried everything,” Marcel said. “I’ve tried ignoring my

feelings. I’ve tried ignoring Cricket and Amanda.” She looked up

at Carmen and gave her a tired smile. “I’ve even tried not being

so weird. Nothing works.”

“Then stay busy and find other things to do,” Carmen

suggested. “Maybe it’s time you went on a statewide buying

spree. Take the truck on the road and hit some estate sales in

Dallas and Houston. Don’t come back until the truck’s full.”

Carmen jumped down from the counter. “Or think about taking

your mother with you. She likes spending money almost as much

as you do.”

“I’ll consider it.”

Chapter eight

Marcel and Cricket were meeting for dinner at Chili’s in the

Quarry, and it was still amazing to Marcel how land developers

could turn a huge hole in the ground into a shopper’s paradise.

As she pulled into the crowded parking lot, she noticed that

Cricket’s car was already there, but Marcel got a shock when

she went inside and found not only Cricket, but also Amanda

and Naomi waiting for her as well. Marcel had planned to tell

Cricket about her feelings for Amanda over dinner. Now it was

apparent that she should have been more specific about their

meeting being for only the two of them.

“There you are!” Cricket said, and then turned her attention

to the person in charge of seating them.

Marcel was fuming and couldn’t believe that her discussion

with Cricket would again have to be delayed. Having tiptoed

Peggy J. Herring

around this whole thing long enough, Marcel decided right

then that somehow she would have a talk with Cricket later that

evening.

They were shown to a table and even before their drink orders

were taken, Naomi began asking her questions about antiques

and inquiring about the business. After only a few minutes,

Marcel felt herself relaxing as she talked about china cabinets

and different kinds of wood. They were well into the entree

phase of dinner before she noticed that Cricket was annoyed at

Naomi’s interest. Marcel, however, was still upset with Cricket

for not telling her that the other two would be joining them, so

she didn’t waste much time feeling bad about anything.

“How did you first get interested in antiques?” Naomi asked.

Marcel had never thought much about it before, but reasoned

that all her life she’d been surrounded by old furniture, paintings,

and jewelry. Such things gave her comfort in a strange way, and

she had no other explanation for it.

Marcel said, “In my mother’s line of work, she’s had rare

and unusual furniture pieces in our home ever since I could

remember. Some stayed longer than others, but I’ve always loved

them.”

Cricket and Amanda chuckled.

“I met your mother the other night at the grand opening,”

Naomi said. “What a delightfully unusual woman.”

“Can you spell babe?” Cricket said under her breath.

Eyes wide with surprise, Naomi asked Marcel if her mother

was a lesbian, which made them all laugh heartily.

“Only in my dreams,” Cricket said.

After dinner, Cricket announced that she had four movie

passes to a romantic comedy that would begin in forty-five

minutes.

“Where’d you get movie passes?” Amanda asked, her tone a

shade above indifferent. She had been very quiet all evening.

“Radio trivia contest on the way home from work,” Cricket

said. “I knew the name of the Little Rascals’ dog, and when I went

to pick up the tickets this afternoon I begged for two more.” She

smiled impishly at Marcel before saying, “And they’re only good

for tonight, so everybody has to go.”

Calm Before The Storm

“I see,” Marcel said, and just as she was about to give her

regrets, Naomi asked her another question and distracted her.

They talked about women at West Point and being gay in the

military. And as the four of them left the restaurant and ambled

down the sidewalk toward the theater, Marcel got so caught up

in explaining the absurd complexities of don’t-ask-don’t-tell that

they were already inching toward the theater lobby before she

realized what had happened.

Damn, Marcel thought as she took the ticket that was being

handed to her. Looks like I’m going to the movies.

Once they were inside the theater, Cricket orchestrated

the seating arrangements and wanted to be between Amanda

and Naomi. Cricket then suggested to Marcel that she sit on

the other side of Naomi. On the surface this all seemed quite

innocent, until the lights went down and the feature started. In

the dark, Marcel noticed right away how Cricket’s hand covered

Naomi’s on the armrest. She felt herself getting angry at Cricket’s

boldness. If I can see it, Marcel thought, then Amanda can see it.

I’ve gotta have a talk with her.

During the movie, Marcel had found it hard to concentrate,

but she had been relieved about not having to sit close to Amanda

in the theater. That would’ve been unbearable—the intimacy of

darkness, the faint smell of Amanda’s perfume, the knowledge

of her closeness, the knowledge that she was there and yet

unavailable, untouchable, and, even worse, uninterested. The

three U’s, Marcel thought as she pursed her lips. Add un-fucking-

fair to that while you’re at it.

Marcel was relieved when the movie was finally over and

the lights came up. She wanted to go home and finish putting

together the ad that she planned to run in the paper next week.

Each time she had started working on it, she’d gotten sleepy, and

with any luck at all tonight the same thing would happen.

Peggy J. Herring

“I need to talk to you tomorrow,” Marcel whispered to

Cricket as they let themselves be carried along in the clutch of

people in the crowded aisle.

“About what?”

The thought of Cricket being so obvious in her pursuit of

Naomi right under Amanda’s nose infuriated her.

“Naomi!” Marcel snapped in her ear.

“I can tell you like her too! Don’t get any ideas. I’m working

on something.”

“I’m not interested in her, you moron,” Marcel hissed in

Cricket’s ear. “And you shouldn’t be either!”

“Who are you? My mother?”

“Come by the shop tomorrow afternoon,” Marcel said. Then,

as she remembered the entourage that had shown up for dinner

with them tonight, she added, “Alone.”

Once they were outside the theater, Marcel noticed how

peeved Amanda was. It reminded her of the day Amanda had

taken Carmen and her to lunch. There was that same intensity

in her eyes and tightness around the mouth that signaled acute

displeasure. Marcel easily concluded that Amanda had seen

Cricket’s hand on Naomi’s during the movie. Marcel thought,

After Amanda yells at her sufficiently later, I’ll do more of it

tomorrow.

As they headed back to Chili’s where their cars were parked,

Cricket seemed to be attempting to coax Amanda into a better

mood. They reached Marcel’s car first and broke into polite

good-byes and promises to do it again soon.

Marcel took the long way home and mulled over what she

would say to Cricket the next day. Being a firm believer in the

truth, she just wanted this over with so that maybe these little

surprise get-togethers would stop happening.

Marcel pulled into her huge, winding driveway and set the

motion light near the garage into action. Her mother was in

Canada for a few days and had plans to play in another high-stakes

game in Hong Kong several days after that. Depending on how

Roslin did in those two places would determine where she would

be over the next few months. Marcel liked the arrangement they

had. Her mother was usually gone long enough for Marcel to

Calm Before The Storm

miss her, and they were never at home together long enough to

get in each other’s way.

Marcel turned on several lights in the house and selected a

Janis Ian CD to work by. She sorted through various graphics

for the ad that she was putting together, and before she got too

far into it, the doorbell rang. Marcel looked at her watch. It was

already after eleven. At the door, she cautiously asked who was

there.

“It’s Amanda. I need to talk to you.”

Marcel fumbled with the lock and swung the huge door

open. “Come in,” she said. “Where’s Cricket?”

“She’s at that new club that just opened. Apparently she

knows the two women who own it.”

With her heart thumping, Marcel led the way to the

living room and turned the music down. “Have a seat,” she

said, indicating one of two sofas in the room. “Would you like

something to drink?”

“No thanks,” Amanda said. “I’m sorry I didn’t call first.”

“I’m usually up no matter what time it is.” She could tell that

Amanda was upset, and a sense of dread was creeping through

Marcel’s body. What if she’s guessed how I feel? What if she’s here to

tell me to get a life, for crissakes?

Marcel nervously cleared her throat. “Please sit down. The

sofa’s much more comfortable than it looks.”

Amanda shook her head, walked over to the stereo, and picked

up the empty CD case. “I don’t understand what’s happening to

me,” she said. “Not at all. When the three of us are together, I’m

fine. We have fun, and I look forward to seeing you.” Amanda

stopped and turned around. Her blond hair was always perfect,

and her blue eyes had the ability to melt Marcel right where she

stood. “But then something happened and you wouldn’t tell me

about it,” she said. “I know you’ve been staying away from us on

purpose, and it’s eating me up inside.”

Amanda raised her hand to stop Marcel from speaking.

“Please let me finish,” she said. “I have a lot to say before I go.

Most of it is coming in spurts, so I know I’m not making much

sense. And some of it is about that obnoxious Naomi woman!”

Ah, Marcel thought as a light went on in her head. Here we

Peggy J. Herring

go. So she did see Cricket holding Naomi’s hand earlier. Marcel sighed

and recalled that this wasn’t the first time that she had been a

sounding board for one of Cricket’s lovers. She was used to the

role and felt comfortable with it.

“What about that Naomi woman?” Marcel asked tiredly as

she sat on the arm of the sofa.

Amanda started pacing, and she clenched her hands as she

spoke. “Cricket is infatuated with her right now. The touchy-

feely thing and the calls late at night. I’ve seen it. I’m not blind.

And none of this is even new to me. She goes through things

like this all the time,” she said matter-of-factly. “Being Cricket’s

lover takes a lot of patience.” Amanda glanced over at Marcel and

threw her hands up in the air. “You’ve known her longer than

anyone. I don’t have to tell you how it is.”

“I’m sure there’s nothing serious between them, if that’s

what you’re thinking,” Marcel said.

“That’s the least of my worries right now,” Amanda assured

her with a wave of her hand. She started pacing again and

seemed to be collecting her thoughts, then suddenly said, “It’s

you that’s making me crazy! I find myself being more concerned

about Naomi sitting beside you when we’re out somewhere.

It makes me instantly angry. Or I go nuts when she has your

complete attention while she’s asking you those endlessly

mundane questions. And I hated the thought of her being your

date tonight.”

Ding, ding, ding went that little bell in Marcel’s head. Amanda

has been thinking about me. .

Confused, Marcel said, “She wasn’t my date. I didn’t even

know you and Naomi were going to be there.”

“Like that matters,” Amanda grumbled. “The first time

it happened was the night we played miniature golf,” she

continued. “Even though Cricket was attempting to flirt with

her, it was no secret that Naomi was there as your date. That

made me so jealous that I couldn’t think about anything else. I

was furious. Then we went to that coffee bar, and Naomi was

sitting beside you.” She lowered her voice and visibly forced

herself to calm down. “I wanted to be the one sitting beside

you. Me. Not her.”

Calm Before The Storm

Marcel was too stunned to move. All she could see was blond

hair and blue eyes coming toward her.

“And then tonight at the movie,” Amanda said, her voice still

low as she moved closer. “Cricket tried holding Naomi’s hand

in the beginning, and still all I could think about was you. .you

being two people away from me. Your sitting next to Naomi.

Her hearing your laughter. .maybe even feeling the heat of your

body.”

Amanda was close enough to her now that Marcel was

indeed aware of Amanda’s perfume. Their eyes locked, and the

pounding of Marcel’s heart obliterated the music filtering from

the stereo.

“You,” Amanda whispered. “It’s always you now. Every

thought. Every ache. Oh god, Marcel. If I don’t kiss you I’ll—”

The rest of Amanda’s sentence was lost as she kissed Marcel

in a wave of passion. Marcel went into immediate sensory

overload. She was in Amanda’s arms and could feel Amanda’s

breasts pressing against her. The kiss deepened as neither held

anything back, and they both wanted more, more, more.

Marcel felt as though she were free-falling in a sea of warm,

nurturing liquid as Amanda held her tight. Their breathing

was ragged when they pulled away from each other, but within

seconds they were kissing deeply again.

Amanda’s hand covered Marcel’s left breast and found a hard

nipple begging for attention. “I have to touch you,” Amanda said

in a raspy voice as she slipped her hands under Marcel’s shirt.

“All of you.”

Without another thought, Marcel got them on the sofa

where the kissing began all over again and Marcel’s hands were

just as busy as Amanda’s were. The intensity of Amanda’s desire

delighted Marcel. Amanda was wild and hungry, her lips moving

from the cool flesh of Marcel’s throat and bare shoulder to her

cheek and then back again to Marcel’s eager mouth.

“Is your mother home?” Amanda whispered in a voice laced

with urgency.

“No,” Marcel said as the warmth continued rushing through

her. “She’s in Montreal.”

Their kiss instantly deepened before Amanda began shedding

0 Peggy J. Herring

her clothes in earnest. Marcel tried not to let the impact of their

actions cloud her thoughts, and she pushed the words This is

Cricket’s lover from her conscience.

“You’ve wanted this, too,” Amanda said breathlessly while

kissing Marcel’s throat.

Marcel trembled as Amanda’s hands roamed over her bare

back.“How long?” Amanda asked in a whisper. “Touch me,”

Amanda ordered. “Oh god, Marcel. Please touch me.”

Amanda’s long, tanned legs were open and inviting, and her

hips rose to meet Marcel’s hand. Marcel sighed as she began a

gentle stroking. She took a swollen nipple into her mouth and set

Amanda off on a wild, bucking ride to pleasure. Amanda wound

her fingers through the back of Marcel’s hair and heatedly urged

her to take more of her breast into her mouth.

“Oh god yes. Like that. Like that!”

Amanda’s climax would have thrown them both off the sofa

had it not been for their pretzelike embrace. Amanda’s entire

body trembled and shook from orgasm, and Marcel felt a much

needed warm release of her own finally take over.

Marcel kissed Amanda’s nipple before releasing it completely, but

kept her fingers in place inside of her. She gently kissed her cheek.

“I knew it,” Amanda whispered groggily. “I knew it would be

like this with you.”

“Like what?” Marcel whispered. She was still overwhelmed

by Amanda’s being there and their urgent lovemaking. Marcel

continued kissing Amanda’s throat and chin, her fingers still

inside Amanda and beginning to move slowly. Marcel was

consumed with delight and emotion as Amanda once more

responded to her. The hips were reaching for her, and it was

apparent that Amanda was unafraid of demanding more. Marcel

was there to take her over the edge again as many times as

Amanda would let her. That would never be a problem.

“Like what?” Marcel whispered again while her fingers

continued dancing between Amanda’s legs.

“Like this,” Amanda said in a harsh, raspy voice, and then

she started thrashing wildly on the sofa as she came. “Like this!

God yes! Like this. Like this!”

Calm Before The Storm 1

Marcel held her until Amanda’s breathing returned to normal

and her body relaxed. Her fingers remained in place just in case

she got another opportunity to please her again.

“Does this mansion have any bedrooms?” Amanda asked a

few minutes later.

Marcel smiled and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Five, as a

matter of fact. Which one would you like to see?”

“It doesn’t matter. I want to make love to you in a bed.” She

put her arms around Marcel and kissed her deeply. “A big bed.

Right now.”

Calm Before The Storm

Chapter nine

Marcel led the way to her bedroom without any thought to

her “psychology” that it be used solely as a sleeping chamber.

Her room happened to be the closest room at the top of the

stairs.

She switched on the lamp beside the huge antique sleigh

bed and noticed immediately how inviting the room appeared.

Marcel imagined it looking like the master bedroom in a classy

brothel, just by the way the bed was the room’s main focus. If

the house were a paragraph and Marcel’s room were a sentence,

then the bed would have been the only word on the entire page

to have been set off in bold print.

Marcel turned from the lamp and saw Amanda’s flawless

body in the soft, sensual light. Even the way she moved made

Marcel’s heart skip a beat as Amanda came toward her.

Peggy J. Herring

“You have beautiful breasts,” Amanda said, and filled

her hands with them. She rubbed Marcel’s nipples with her

thumbs and then lowered her head to take the right one into

her mouth.

Marcel’s body immediately begged for more, and Amanda

proved to be accommodating. She urged Marcel onto the bed

and then covered Marcel’s body with hers. Amanda’s in-sync

kisses were hot and magical, and Marcel forgot who and where

she was for the moment. It surprised her that she felt so good so

quickly; Amanda knew what she was doing and got right down to

it. The stimulation was direct and focused. The merging of their

bodies brought on an exquisite heat that steadily crescendoed

into orgasm at a delightful rate. Marcel cried out as she came,

and then pulled Amanda’s sweat-coated body even closer to her.

It was fabulous, and Marcel felt another surge of emotion as

Amanda slowly worked Marcel’s thigh between her legs and then

started grinding herself against her. Marcel captured a swaying

breast in her mouth, causing Amanda’s movement to increase

into a moaning symphony of oh’s. Amanda came hard again and

collapsed on top of her like a sweet-smelling rag doll. Marcel

held her and kissed her forehead until Amanda fell asleep.

Thirty minutes later, Marcel disentangled herself from

Amanda, put on a robe, and went downstairs. Sex had always

been the one thing that could guarantee insomnia for her. It

usually took her several hours to come down from the physical

high her body went through.

She had slipped out of bed so that her tossing and turning

wouldn’t be so disruptive. Apparently sex had the complete

opposite effect on Amanda, as it did on nearly everyone else.

Marcel wasn’t sure she could’ve gotten Amanda awake if she had

wanted to.

Marcel smiled when she saw their clothes tossed all over the

living room. After neatly folding them, she set out to work on

the ad in the other room, but before she got too far into it, the

telephone rang.

Calm Before The Storm

“Hi. Did I wake you?” Cricket asked.

“No,” Marcel said as a flash of guilt zapped her.

“Good. I need to talk. I think this one likes playing

games.”

“This one? What are you talking about?”

“Naomi! Who do you think?”

“Oh.”

“We were out at that new club tonight, and we’re dancing and

laughing and then outta the blue she starts asking me questions

about you. Were we ever lovers? Do you like younger women?

Are you seeing anyone right now? On and on and on until I’m

totally outta the mood.”

Marcel rolled her eyes. “And you’re calling me because. .?”

“I’m calling for your opinion,” Cricket said. “So what do you

think? She has to know the score here; so is Naomi messing with

me? Or is it just that she’s dumb as a rock?”

“I know nothing about her,” Marcel said, “so what good is

my opinion?”

“Let me hear it anyway. I know you’ve got one.”

Marcel sighed. “She’s not dumb, by any means. Quite the

contrary, in fact. She’s bright and kind of interesting, I think.”

“Of course you would think that!” Cricket reasoned. “She’s

been panting after you ever since that night of miniature golf.”

Marcel refrained from mentioning how Cricket and Naomi

had held hands at the theater earlier that evening. No evidence

of panting there.

“So forget it,” Cricket said. “I’m not fixing you two up. I’ve

got my eye on her.”

“How many women at a time can you —”

“Three,” Cricket said with a chuckle. “I take vitamins.”

“What kind?”

Cricket’s laughter made Marcel smile.

“I’m thinking maybe she’s just stringing me along,” Cricket

said. “Whatever interest she’s shown in you, there’s been no

follow-through. She’s trying to get my goat. It’s obvious that

you’re not interested in her, so she thinks it’s safe to play this

game. Or maybe she’s just using you to make me jealous. And it’s

working to a point.”

Peggy J. Herring

Marcel let it drop. Pursuing this line of reasoning wasn’t

worth the aggravation.

“Okay,” Cricket said. “I just wanted your thoughts on this.

Thanks. Get some sleep, eh? I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

With a click, Cricket was gone. Marcel hung up the phone,

but before she had time to feel too guilty about talking to Cricket

while Amanda was upstairs in her bed, Marcel heard rustling in

the hallway. Amanda came into the dining room with nothing

but a sheet wrapped around her.

“There you are,” she said sleepily. “Who was on the phone?”

Marcel laughed at the adorable sight and held her arms out.

Amanda opened the sheet to receive her.

“You look so cute,” Marcel said, and kissed her lightly on

the lips.

Amanda let go of the sheet and took Marcel’s face in her

hands and kissed her deeply. The tumbling in Marcel’s stomach

made her tremble.

“Come back to bed,” Amanda whispered when they finally

pulled away from each other. “I still have things I want to do to

you.”“Oh,” Marcel said as the fluttering began all over again.

“Lots and lots of things.” Amanda tugged on the sash and

opened Marcel’s robe, exposing her nude body. “Or I can start

right here and we can go back to bed later for the finale.”

Marcel was speechless, but her body was responding.

“On the table,” Amanda ordered quietly. She bundled Marcel’s

robe and the sheet together, making a nice cushy pillow. “Right

here,” Amanda said as she patted the edge of the tabletop.

Marcel loved hearing the determination in Amanda’s voice

and got up on the table as she’d been instructed to do.

“Scooch forward a little,” Amanda said, urging Marcel

closer to the table’s edge. She encouraged Marcel to lie back on

the make-believe robe-sheet-pillow combination. “And these go

here,” she said decisively as she draped Marcel’s legs over her

shoulders.

Amanda started licking and gently probing Marcel with

her eager tongue, engulfing Marcel with sensation almost

immediately. Marcel wound her fingers through Amanda’s silky

Calm Before The Storm

blond hair. She moaned and felt hot liquid desire, incandescent

and exquisite, shooting through her body. Marcel came in a

rush; the release was so intense and complete that she wasn’t

aware when the delicate stroking finally stopped.

“Amanda,” she whispered. “That was.. ” she started, and then

trembled again before saying, “incredible.”

Amanda kissed her lingeringly before easing Marcel’s legs

from her shoulders. “That’s just the beginning,” she said, and

then helped Marcel sit up on the table’s edge. “I made you come

too quickly. I’ll know to tease you more next time so it’ll last

longer.” She kissed the top of Marcel’s head. “For both of us.”

Marcel put her limp arms around Amanda’s neck and let

their foreheads touch. “Next time,” she said weakly.

“Yes, darling. Next time. I hope to have many, many more

next times.”

They got out of bed at midmorning, after having made love

several more times, and had a light breakfast of cinnamon toast

and coffee. Marcel had finally fallen asleep at about six, but had

been awakened forty-five minutes later by Amanda’s sweet kisses.

Marcel found herself still a bit dazed at having Amanda there

with her. “What about Cricket?” Marcel finally asked while

pouring them more coffee. “I’m supposed to see her today. I can

tell her then.”

“Let me talk to her first,” Amanda said. “I think it’ll be better

that way.”

“Are you sure?”

Amanda came up behind her and kissed Marcel on the back

of the neck. “I’m sure.”

Marcel turned around and took full advantage of their

closeness. “When can I see you again?” she asked, putting her

arms around her. Amanda’s tongue explored Marcel’s mouth

slowly, sweetly as they kissed near the sink.

“Can I come over tonight?” Amanda asked.

“Of course.”

“I’ll call you and let you know when I’ll be here.”

Peggy J. Herring

Marcel walked with her to the front door where the kissing

continued. “I need to know how it goes with Cricket,” Marcel

said. “Are you sure you don’t want me to tell her?”

Amanda gave her one last peck on the lips. “I’ll take care of

it. See you tonight.”

Marcel finally got to work at eleven, after having called in

earlier, and came through the door whistling. She felt great—

happier than she’s felt in a long time.

“You sure are in a good mood,” Carmen said as she poked her

head out of Marcel’s office. “Did you finally get some sleep?”

Marcel threw her head back and laughed. “Even less than

usual.”

Carmen smiled knowingly. “Then you must’ve gotten laid!”

Marcel rolled her eyes and imagined herself blushing.

Standing in the doorway Marcel found her office in total disarray

and Carmen putting a twin bed together behind the desk.

“What are you doing?” Marcel inquired.

“Your mother’s orders,” Carmen said, “but I agree with her.

Help me with this mattress.”

“My mother? When did you talk to my mother?”

“At the grand opening the other night.”

There’s a damn bed in my office, Marcel thought incredulously.

Irritated, she asked, “What exactly did my mother say? I don’t

want a bed in here, for crissakes! Why didn’t someone ask me?”

But even as she was protesting, Marcel found herself helping to

heave the mattress onto the bedframe. Carmen fished in a huge

bag and pulled out a package of new, baby blue sheets. Marcel

could almost see the wheels turning in her mother’s head, and

Marcel knew that any displeasure she felt about this had to be

directed at Carmen instead of her mother.

Carmen laughed. “Roslin thinks that there might be times

when you’re here at work that you’ll get sleepy. We measured

everything and made sure there would be plenty of room for

a small bed in here. She even gave me specific instructions on

what kind of bedding to get.” Carmen smiled as she flipped the

Calm Before The Storm

top sheet and let it slowly float down, covering the bed. “Calm,

peaceful colors,” Carmen said in a hushed voice. “No Wonder

Woman sheets or Pokemon sheets, but a tranquil, soothing

color. I had fun doing this.”

“Jesus,” Marcel said, a bit embarrassed that Carmen knew so

much about the sleep problem that she and her mother had spent

years discussing. As an alternative to having a bed in her office,

Marcel tried another approach. “Why not a nice comfortable

sofa with some cushy pillows?”

“And when was the last time you fell asleep on a sofa? Never,

right? She’s on to you,” Carmen said. “Roslin knows what works

best, and a comfy sofa with cushy pillows just won’t hack it.”

“Okay, okay.”

“She picked the bed and this particular mattress out especially

for you. Even the pillows. But she ran out of time and asked me

to buy the sheets and get it all set up and ready.”

Marcel again was able to imagine her mother in a store

somewhere that specialized in beds.. imagined her trying out

each mattress in the store until she found one that met her

approval. “It must be nice to know everything,” Marcel said

grumpily. So much for my good mood, she thought.

“Hey, I don’t argue with your mother,” Carmen said. “And

neither will you.”

“I know,” Marcel said, resigning herself to the fact that there

would be a bed in her office.

“She’s right much too often for either of us to question her

judgment or suggestions.”

“I know, I know,” Marcel said. She watched as Carmen

finished making the bed with sharp, military corners and creases

on the top sheet, enclosing the mattress in a light blue envelope of

cotton. “Did you miss the part of my mother’s speech where she

explained how to make the bed for a sleep-deprived person?”

Carmen stepped back and admired her handiwork. “What’s

wrong with the way I made the bed?”

“It’s not user friendly.”

Carmen smiled and nodded. “Oh. I get it.” She pulled the

top sheet off and shook it out again, letting it drift down slowly

to cover the bed. “Loose and inviting. Got it.”

Calm Before The Storm 1

Chapter ten

Marcel supervised the loading of their delivery truck, and

Carmen and two of her brothers got the furniture in the back

according to how it all needed to be unloaded for each delivery.

Carmen had gotten them a sweet deal with one of the older

hotels downtown to furnish several of its sitting areas with

various antiques. As a result of that transaction, the Antique

Villa had sold more in one day than they’d expected to sell in

three months. Money was beginning to roll in.

After the last piece was carefully placed on the truck, Carmen

jumped down and dusted her pants off. Her blue denim shirt still

had that fresh-from-the-cleaners look to it, and her neatly cut,

thick black hair showed signs of dampness near her collar.

“Is that clipboard heavy?” Carmen asked Marcel with a

teasing grin.

Peggy J. Herring

Marcel chuckled and checked off the last thing on the invoice.

“Next time, you can do this part, and I’ll schlep the furniture.”

“Inventory is low,” Carmen said. “Time for you to go

shopping again or clean out your attic.”

The go-shopping part had been one of the key factors in

attracting Marcel to this business venture. She found going to

estate sales, flea markets, thrift shops, and other antique stores

with someone else’s checkbook appealing. She knew antiques

and the pricing game, and the challenge of getting something

for nothing made her eager to get started.

“I’ll check the attic tonight,” Marcel said, referring to the

countless furniture pieces that had been stored in her attic over

the years. That had also been a factor in opening the shop.

About an hour later, Cricket came in and pretended to browse

while Marcel took care of a customer. Marcel became nervous

the minute she saw her, wondering what Cricket’s reaction had

been to Amanda’s revelation about their night together. With

Marcel having spent the majority of the afternoon thinking about

Amanda, she also wondered if she’d ever be able to associate her

dining table with anything other than sexual bliss.

“So,” Marcel said when the other customer finally left. “Did

you see Amanda today?”

“Yes,” Cricket said. “We had a late lunch.”

She’s pretty calm, Marcel thought suspiciously. She waited a

moment, expecting Cricket to comment on what Amanda had

told her. “And?” Marcel said finally.

“And what?” Cricket replied, puzzled.

“What did she say?”

Cricket raised an eyebrow. “About what?”

It finally became clear to Marcel that Amanda hadn’t

mentioned anything about last night to Cricket. Marcel was torn

between telling and not telling her.

“About what?” Cricket said again.

Marcel shifted uneasily. She hated having put herself in this

position. She’s my friend. Omigod! She’s my friend! What have I

done? “Marcel,” Cricket said as she snapped her fingers like a

hypnotist in front of Marcel’s face. “What’s the matter with you?”

Calm Before The Storm

“Uh.. it’s about Amanda,” Marcel said as her heart raced.

“Last night.” She had to tell her. There was no way Marcel could

let this deception continue. Her relationship with Cricket thrived

on honesty, no matter how painful it was. And Marcel realized

now that she couldn’t depend on Amanda to help with this.

“What about last night?”

“Uh.. Amanda and I were together. We made love last

night.”

Now it was Cricket’s turn to blink dumbly. “What?” she

said, cocking her head in order to hear her better.

“Amanda and I,” Marcel said as her heart sank. “Last night .

. . we made love last night.” She couldn’t speak any louder. “And

she was supposed to tell you that at lunch today.”

“You and Amanda? My Amanda?”

“Yes,” Marcel said. “Amanda.”

“No way.”

“I wanted to tell you myself, but she —”

“No way! My Amanda?”

Apparently the look on Marcel’s face convinced her

otherwise.

“You bitch!” Cricket hissed as she snatched her backpack and

stormed toward the door.

“Cricket!” Marcel called, but decided against following her.

“Damn,” she mumbled. “That didn’t go well.”

Marcel found Amanda’s business card near the phone and

dialed the number. The moment Amanda answered, Marcel

began talking. “You said you would tell her.”

There was a hesitation, and then Amanda said, “Marcel?”

“This morning you said you would tell her, Amanda. You

knew I was seeing her today.”

“And I will tell her.”

“Will?” Marcel said. “I expected you to do it today! At

lunch!”

“Today? You mean just blurt it out over a chef’s salad? This

is going to take time.”

“Not anymore,” Marcel said. “She just flew out of here like

she had a rocket up her butt. I can’t believe you didn’t tell her.

You said you would talk to her today.”

Peggy J. Herring

“So she knows? Damn it, Marcel!”

“You said you would talk to her!”

“I did talk to her! But not about that! I can’t believe you did

this. I’ve gotta go.”

Amanda hung up in Marcel’s ear, dissolving whatever good

feelings Marcel had started the day with. She knew that it was

impossible for anyone else to understand the complexities of her

relationship with Cricket, and Marcel also knew that her own

sense of honor was foreign to other people. Those West Point

morals were still engrained in her, and as a result, she refused

to be a part of anyone’s lie. For Marcel to keep her relationship

with Amanda a secret from Cricket was out of the question for

her, and Marcel assumed that Amanda had understood that

when they’d discussed it before. One of the reasons Marcel and

Cricket had remained so close all these years was because of their

brutal honesty with each other. Marcel depended on Cricket to

tell her when she needed to take things less seriously and stop

being so rigid and “such an officer,” while Marcel was the person

who always let Cricket know when she had spinach in her teeth

or when clothes looked unflattering on her. These situations

were seldom pleasant, but Marcel and Cricket loved each other

as only ex-lovers and true friends can, and they would continue

to be vital fixtures in each other’s lives. A boatload of new lovers

wouldn’t change that. Nothing would ever change that.

Marcel was upset and confused about Amanda’s anger; she

decided to let Amanda and Cricket work through a few things

before she approached either of them again. Amanda stayed

on her mind, and luckily for Marcel’s state of mind, customers

poured in and bought antiques at an alarming rate. A while later,

Cricket called.

“Was she there when I talked to you last night?” she

demanded.

“Yes,” Marcel said after taking a deep breath.

“Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“The conversation never got around to me. As usual we only

talked about you.”

“Oh, cute, Marcel. It’s just like you to turn this thing around

and make me the bad guy. You bitch!”

Calm Before The Storm

Marcel was slowly getting angry. “Then it wouldn’t do me

any good now to remind you that when you called me last night,

it was with the sole purpose of discussing the new woman you’re

drooling over. Or have you forgotten that?”

“Bitch, bitch, bitch!” Cricket yelled, and then slammed the

phone down.

Marcel shook her head and hung up.

“I was serious about that shopping spree,” Carmen said a

while later as she helped Marcel rearrange a few of the heavier

pieces in the showroom. “We need new inventory now, so I’ll

have time to work on it and get it ready to sell.”

“I’m on it,” Marcel said. “I’m leaving for the Hill Country

in the morning. I also heard about an old hotel in Mason that

they’re tearing down. Rumor control says they’ve got several old

barns out back full of interesting things.”

The door opened and another customer came in; Marcel

felt her whole body emit a little groan at the sight of Jordan

Wheatly.

“How about a hug?” Jordan said as she came over and gave

Marcel a more than friendly squeeze. “Good to see you again,

Carmen.”

“Likewise.”

Jordan stepped back and immediately feigned interest in an

antique roll-top desk. “Big Boy’s out of town, so I decided to

spend some of his money.”

Ah, Marcel thought. The General’s gone and she’s out shopping.

But not necessarily for a desk.

“You’ve already got more furniture than you know what to do

with,” Marcel said, hoping to sound amiable but not interested.

Jordan looked at her with mischief in her eyes and said,

“There’s always room for more. You know how I like having

a little something extra.” She thumped the price tag with the

outrageously high figure on it and said, “I’ll take it.” She turned

and asked Marcel when she could deliver it.

“This afternoon or early in the morning,” Marcel said.

Peggy J. Herring

“Then I’d prefer this afternoon.” Jordan whipped out her

checkbook and started writing. With a familiar wicked grin she

said, “And wear exactly what you have on. I like that pseudo-

rugged look on you. It’s quite effective and very becoming.”

“Excuse me?” Marcel said. “I won’t be delivering it.”

Jordan stopped her pen in midair over the check. “Marcel,”

she said with that bored tone that Marcel found so annoying.

That bored general’s-wife tone. “This is a sizable purchase I’m

making.”

“And you’re buying a desk only,” Marcel informed her, and

then with added emphasis said, “Only. The desk only.”

“It’s just a simple little request,” Jordan said innocently. She

finished writing the check and ripped it out of the checkbook.

With a smile she said, “We could have a nice dinner there in

Mamie Eisenhower’s house.”

Marcel sighed. She already knew exactly what would happen.

Within two minutes of her arrival, they would be kissing and

Marcel would once again end up being the voice of reason.

“You know I can’t,” Marcel said.

“At first it was because you outranked me,” Jordan said, “and

then it was because Big Boy was your boss. Well, none of that

applies now, Marcel, so what’s stopping us from having a little

fun together?”

“He’s still your husband. I don’t need a complication like

that in my life.” And there’s no telling who else you’ve been with lately,

Marcel thought with a shudder.

“You can be so self-righteous sometimes, Marcel. I hate my

life.” She recapped her pen and tossed it in her purse. “So what

does it take to get fucked these days?”

Marcel laughed and didn’t have an answer for her. “How

many times have I told you that it’s very unbecoming for the

General’s wife to use the F word?”

“Fuck, fuck fuck,” Jordan said with gusto. “Can I use your

fucking phone, please?”

Marcel motioned toward the telephone beside them on the

counter.

“Do you have one with more privacy?”

Marcel nodded. “Back there in my office.”

Calm Before The Storm

Jordan came around the counter and Marcel opened the

office door for her. Jordan’s eyes went directly to the bed behind

Marcel’s desk.

“Hmm,” she said playfully. “So you were expecting me.”

“The phone’s on the desk,” Marcel said.

“We could have such fun together, Marcel, if you’d just

lighten up a little.” Jordan casually dialed a number. “Me and

you. Alone. With Big Boy away.” She smiled and then winked.

“Me and you in Mamie Eisenhower’s house. Just think of the

possibilities.”

Marcel shook her head and wondered if Jordan would ever

change. She closed the door and left her alone with the phone.

When Jordan finally departed, Carmen came out of the

work area in the back, smelling of lemon oil and sawdust. It was

a combination that Marcel was getting familiar with and finding

that it was comforting in many ways.

“I figure if we could have all your girlfriends buy something

from us occasionally, we’d be in business forever,” Carmen said

with a teasing wink.

Marcel rolled her eyes and stated simply that she had no

girlfriends. Amanda hadn’t called. Cricket hadn’t called. She

wondered what was going on with those two. She was gradually

coming to the conclusion that a reconciliation of sorts was

probably in the works for them.

“So how are you doing?” Carmen asked. “I mean really?”

Marcel took a deep breath and shrugged. “You mean other

than feeling like a fool? I’m fine.”

“You’re not a fool,” Carmen said. “The bigger fools are the

women who hurt you. I’m here if you need to talk.”

“I know. Thanks.”

The front door opened again, and they both looked up as

Naomi came in. Marcel’s eyes widened in surprise at seeing her,

and she resisted the urge to thump Carmen when she heard her

say, “If we could just get each of them to buy something.”

Calm Before The Storm

Chapter eleven

Marcel was usually able to read people fairly well, but Naomi

had a tendency to confuse her. The only real information that

Marcel had to go on was Cricket’s view of this woman, which

was more than likely distorted into a caricature of who Naomi

really was. Marcel did, however, see something there that she

liked, even though she wasn’t exactly sure what it was. The word

charisma came to mind, and she acknowledged the fact that

Naomi had it. Marcel found her attractive but felt a little uneasy

admitting that.

Carmen, who was back in the work area already, had left

shaking her head and chuckling. Marcel wasn’t sure what was

going on with Naomi at that particular moment, but she knew

which approach she wanted to take with her to help clarify

things.

100 Peggy J. Herring

“It’s nice to see you again,” Marcel said. “Can I help you find

something?”

Naomi’s smile was warm and friendly. “I saw a small table

the other night that I liked very much.” She glanced around the

showroom but apparently didn’t see what she was looking for.

“This is the first chance I’ve had to get back here since the grand

opening.”

“Business has been good,” Marcel said. “We’ve probably

sold the table you were interested in. Where was it sitting that

night?”

Naomi described the table and where it had been. “I can see

now that I should’ve gotten it then.”

“I know the table you’re talking about, and I can keep an eye

out for a similar one.”

“Would you? Thanks.”

Marcel returned to the counter and made a note on an index

card, then had Naomi write her name and phone number on the

bottom of the card.

“I don’t suppose you’re free for dinner tonight,” Naomi said

nonchalantly as she scribbled.

Marcel was caught by pleasant surprise and didn’t know what

to say at first. The remote possibility of seeing Amanda later,

in addition to having to work on the ad she hadn’t finished yet,

popped into her head.

“Tonight isn’t good for me,” Marcel said. Then with a pang

of irritation, she remembered sitting beside Naomi in the theater

last night while Cricket held Naomi’s hand in the dark.

“How about tomorrow?” Naomi asked.

Marcel liked her persistence and was beginning to think that

maybe Cricket and Carmen were right about Naomi’s interest in

her.“I’m out of town tomorrow,” Marcel said, and to soften the

rejection a little, she smiled and added, “but I might find the

table you’re looking for then. You never know.”

“May I call you?” Naomi asked. There was determination in

her eyes instead of the disappointment Marcel had expected to

find there. It was the first time they’d actually looked at each other,

and Marcel knew right away what Cricket found so attractive

Calm Before The Storm 101

about her—the spray of dark curls and the flash of perfect white

teeth that had more than likely cost her parents a bundle. Her

features were pleasant; she would never be glamorous or what

most people would call beautiful, but Marcel liked Naomi.

Cricket, Marcel thought suddenly. This is Cricket’s newest

infatuation. And she’s here asking me for a date.

“I’d like to get together with you sometime,” Naomi

continued. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but I find you

very interesting. Our lives are so different, and the things you’ve

done fascinate me.”

Marcel felt her face glowing and decided to put this entire

conversation in perspective for both of them. “You realize, of

course, that Cricket is my friend,” Marcel said.

“I know.”

“And you also realize that Cricket is interested in you.”

Naomi shrugged. “She has Amanda.”

“She had Amanda when you started seeing her.”

“I’m not ‘seeing’ her. We work together.”

“Are you not aware that Cricket wants more than that from

you?”

“I know I’m never quite sure how to handle her,” Naomi

admitted. “Open relationships are foreign to me, and I have no

point of reference for a lot of what Cricket does.”

“I think it’s something new for Cricket, too.”

Naomi sighed. “I think it’s only fair that I tell you why I’m

putting up with Cricket’s teasing and overall nonsense. Keeping

a connection with Cricket gives me an opportunity to see you.

I think you’re one of the most intriguing women I’ve ever met.

I’m trying my best to get my feelings across to Cricket, but she’s

not really listening to me. One minute I’m sure she understands

exactly what I’m saying, and the next minute it’s like she has

amnesia.”

Marcel smiled and arched an eyebrow at hearing the word

intriguing. It wasn’t a word she was accustomed to hearing in

reference to herself. Being a female with rank in the Army,

the more traditional word bitch was what she was used to. And

Cricket seemed to have adopted that particular word for her as

well.

10 Peggy J. Herring

“Then why were you holding Cricket’s hand during the

movie last night if you find me so intriguing?”

“You saw that?” Naomi asked, horrified.

“I saw it and Amanda saw it.”

Naomi, who had now turned red, closed her eyes and took

a deep breath. “I couldn’t believe she did that. Did you also

notice that I kept my hands in my lap the rest of the night after

it happened?” She nervously ran her fingers through her curls

and seemed younger than she had a few moments ago. “I like

Cricket as a friend. It’s nice having someone so full of energy

and mischief in a work environment. But that’s all there is to it

for me. I’m sorry that you saw something that gave you another

impression.”

Marcel had to admit that Cricket was the one painting a

different picture of the situation.

“Cricket is interested in you, and she’s my friend.” Marcel

refrained from adding, Since I slept with her lover last night it seems

like a good idea not to get involved with you, too.

Naomi’s painful expression caught Marcel off guard, and it

occurred to her for the first time that this whole thing might

mean a lot more to Naomi than Marcel had originally thought.

After all, Marcel thought, hasn’t Cricket been complaining about

Naomi’s interest in me all along?

“That’s not what I wanted to hear,” Naomi said.

“Cricket’s feelings for you, whatever they may be, haven’t

changed.”

Naomi looked at her for a moment and then said, “Don’t

hold me responsible for Cricket’s feelings.” Naomi managed a

weak smile. “I can see that I have my work cut out for me here.

You haven’t seen the last of me.”

As she turned to go, Marcel felt a twinge of regret. How does

Cricket find these wonderful women? she wondered. How does she

ever keep them straight?

Marcel got home late and had no messages on her answering

machine. Amanda’s silence was pretty much saying it all—their

Calm Before The Storm 10

time together had consisted of only one night. That was obvious

now, and Marcel reminded herself that she needed to get over it.

To take her mind off Amanda, Marcel foraged through

the attic to see what was there and what could be taken to the

shop the next day. For several items, she would have to do some

research on the current market value, but she had an idea what

the majority of the pieces would sell for. Most had been won in

poker games over the years, and Roslin had told her more than

once to take anything that she wanted.

After getting an idea about what she wanted to take to the

shop the next day, Marcel called Carmen and made arrangements

to have it all picked up first thing in the morning. It was after

nine when she finally settled down to concentrate on the ad

that was due on Monday, and once those finishing touches were

completed, she snatched up the ringing phone beside her.

“Good,” Roslin said, “I didn’t wake you.”

Marcel sighed. She had hoped that it would be Amanda, but

she was glad to hear her mother’s voice, too.

“Are you winning?” Marcel asked.

“I lost Key West again. It’s time for a break. I’ll be home

tomorrow afternoon.”

Marcel laughed and shook her head. Her mother treated

property like it was part of a Monopoly game—cashing in

Baltimore Avenue to pay for a railroad. The Key West property

had already been recycled three times in the last two years, and

it was obvious to Marcel that her mother needed to find a new

circle of people to gamble with.

“I’ll be out of town tomorrow,” Marcel said. “I’m going

shopping for antiques. Shall I ask Carmen to pick you up at the

airport?”

“I’ll find my way,” Roslin said. “See you tomorrow.”

“Try and cheer up some, will you? This place is like a tomb

already.”

“Can’t promise anything. Dipping into Key West took care

of that. Toodles, and get some sleep.”

As Marcel hung up the phone, she wondered what Amanda

was doing right then. She had spent a good part of the day trying

not to think about her, but now that she was home and sitting at

10 Peggy J. Herring

the very table where Amanda had made love to her that morning,

the memory of those precious few hours they’d spent together

was sharp and painful. Marcel wanted to call Amanda just to

hear her voice, but she also needed to know what exactly had

happened with Cricket earlier that day. Marcel wanted something

a bit more definite than her own suspicions about what their time

together had meant to Amanda. After having spent the majority

of her life in a very rigid, disciplined environment where doing

what was best for her wasn’t always the objective, Marcel wanted

specifics when it came to matters of the heart.

Crossing her arms on the table, she rested her head there

for just a moment. When she finally woke up, it was two in the

morning. Amanda hadn’t called.

Carmen and one of her brothers arrived at seven-thirty, and

between the three of them, they got what they wanted out of

the attic and loaded onto the truck. Marcel followed them to

the shop where they unloaded everything into Carmen’s work

area in the back. Marcel wiped the sweat from her brow on the

sleeve of her beige oxford shirt and wondered why she’d bothered

taking a shower before doing all the lifting and arranging in the

early morning Texas heat.

Carmen held the truck keys out to her. “Shop till you drop,

Colonel. I even gassed it up for you already.”

Marcel smiled. She liked the way Carmen was forever taking

care of those small details that Marcel disliked tending to.

“I’ll have my cell phone on in case you need me,” Marcel

said. “Or in case I get any calls.” She still held out some hope that

Amanda would get in touch with her again.

“Which one of the three are you waiting to hear from?”

Carmen asked. “The General’s wife or one of Cricket’s

girlfriends?”

The comment was like a slap in the face. Marcel snatched

the keys from her and scowled her displeasure. Having had it

put to her so bluntly, Marcel cringed as she thought about her

behavior over the last few days.

Calm Before The Storm 10

“I appreciate the support,” Marcel said sarcastically.

“All I’m saying is that you can do better. It amazes me how

these women find you,” Carmen said as her own disbelief and

irritation surfaced. “I know you. I’ve seen how you struggle with

their perceptions of you.” Shaking her head she added, “You’re

like a magnet for lesbian weirdos.”

“Again,” Marcel said, “thanks for your support.” She got in

the huge truck and drove out of the parking lot on her way to

rescue old furniture. In the rearview mirror, Marcel could see

Carmen standing in the parking lot with her hands on her hips,

staring after her.

Marcel had the truck’s air conditioner wide open and

blowing on her face to ensure that she stayed awake. Now was

not the time to get sleepy. She enjoyed the drive to the Hill

Country and stopped at every little one-room flea market along

the way. So far all she’d found was an oak bed frame that was

a steal.

Even as a child, Marcel had loved shopping and experiencing

the thrill of finding a bargain. Her mother had instilled in her

a respect for money at an early age, and from day one had been

amused at her daughter’s frugal nature when it came to making

a purchase. Marcel had a keen eye for quality and workmanship,

and an interest in the unusual. She and Carmen were practical

and agreed on many things, which made them good business

partners, but they also shared a true appreciation for anything

made of wood. Marcel’s passion came from saving old desks and

chairs, rescuing them and bringing them to Carmen, who would

in turn give them a facelift and a new life of their own.

As Marcel sped down the highway, she thought about the

desk Jordan had purchased the day before. Each furniture piece

in their shop had its own Robicheaux-Morales history, and

Marcel remembered finding that particular desk at an auction

in Tacoma last summer. She wondered where Jordan would put

it in Mamie Eisenhower’s house, and if it would be used or just

dusted by the maid. There were times when Marcel felt like the

10 Peggy J. Herring

coordinator for a furniture adoption agency, with her goal being

to find good homes for each piece.

As she began winding down a bit more, she let herself

reflect on Jordan, too. Now that Marcel was officially retired

and General Wheatly was no longer her boss, the prospect of

maintaining a friendship with Jordan was more feasible, but

Marcel wasn’t sure that she wanted to. Jordan could give her a

good workout on the tennis court, but Jordan would probably

always come through with innuendos and attempted stolen kisses

when they were alone together. Jordan’s smoldering sexuality

had no true outlet. A husband plus a lover might not even be

enough for her. Marcel often wondered if Jordan had any friends

whom she hadn’t tried to sleep with. In several ways Marcel felt

sorry for her, even though Jordan chose to stay in an unsatisfying

marriage. She knew she would have to make certain things very

clear to Jordan, and draw a line that couldn’t be crossed, if a

friendship was to work. Marcel wasn’t sure that Jordan was up to

that. Marcel recognized that Jordan and Cricket were so much

alike that it was almost scary.

Marcel remembered her stint in Germany with Jordan and

the time the hospital was faced with being over budget for the

last quarter of the fiscal year. Marcel had called a meeting of all

departments in the hospital, and then-First Lieutenant Jordan

McGowen was there representing the department of nursing.

The conference room had been full as Marcel proceeded to

tell everyone what the money situation was. As in most budget

meetings, representatives were unwilling to curtail their

expenses. The arguments had become heated, and there were

bitter accusations about Marcel’s commitment to patient care.

At one point, Jordan came to Marcel’s defense in a surprisingly

eloquent bottom-line summation of the facts—there was no

money, and they’d simply have to make the most of the resources

available.

After Jordan’s brief spiel, Marcel noticed that the other

departmental representatives stopped taking so personally what

Calm Before The Storm 10

Marcel had been saying. Jordan had somehow reached them.

Marcel also noticed the way Jordan looked at her immediately

afterward, ready with a smile and what Marcel would later learn

was a sensual habit of slowly moistening her lips with the tip of

her tongue.

A few days after the budget meeting, Marcel had found

herself on an elevator in the hospital where the next stop blessed

her with twenty or so soldiers in full field gear, with Lieutenant

Jordan McGowen leading the way. Everyone was packed in like

thrifty tourists on a free bus, with no allowance for personal

space. It quickly had become a let’s-see-how-many-people-we-

can-stuff-in-an-elevator game. Marcel, unfortunately, had been

pushed toward the back, with Jordan somehow again directly

behind her in the corner. There was no room to move, and

Marcel felt Jordan’s hands firmly planted on her ass, rubbing

slowly and suggestively. Then Marcel felt hands on her hips,

pulling her back even closer so that Jordan’s breasts pressed

against her. Marcel was immediately aroused—and annoyed at

the way her body was responding. The fear of getting caught was

real, even though no one paid any attention to them as the chatter

in the elevator escalated. The elevator stopped on every floor

before finally reaching Marcel’s floor, where several people got

out to let her through. Marcel, aware that Jordan had followed

her, unlocked the door to her office and knew exactly what she

should do—chastise Jordan for her behavior and strongly hint at

the possibility of disciplinary action if such a thing were to ever

happen again.

Yes, Marcel thought now as she dodged a deer carcass in the

road. That’s what I should’ve done then.

As soon as Marcel had her office door unlocked and opened,

Jordan slipped in behind her and pulled Marcel into her arms and

kissed her. Again Marcel’s body reacted in a way that infuriated

her.“Take this off,” Jordan whispered as she tugged on the

buttons of Marcel’s uniform. She randomly kissed Marcel’s cheek

10 Peggy J. Herring

and mouth and said, “I’ve got fifteen minutes before I’m on call.

God, you’ve got the nicest ass.” Her left hand was on Marcel

again, rubbing and pulling her closer while Jordan continued

to fumble with the buttons on Marcel’s uniform with her other

hand.

Marcel gritted her teeth and said, “What the hell are you

doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing,” Jordan said as she nuzzled

Marcel’s neck.

Marcel abruptly stepped away from her and straightened her

uniform. Jordan’s flagrant aggression was a definite warning for

Marcel. The stories about entrapment, witch hunts, set-ups, and

being let go from the service were true and scary. Had Jordan

been a little less desperate and pushy, and not a bisexual, Marcel

might have been more receptive to her advances, but none of that

was the case. Marcel was suspicious of Jordan’s motives and leery

of her actions. Marcel reached around her for the handle on the

door and opened it, saying simply, “Out.”

“Oh sure,” Jordan said with a confident laugh. She pushed

the door closed again. “Are you trying to tell me you don’t want

this too?”

Marcel was not going to discuss this with her, and she was

furious for allowing herself to be put in such a position.

“We’re two consenting adults and both officers.”

I don’t know you, Marcel thought, and there’s no way I’m going

to get involved with someone this careless.

“The Army has no sense of humor when it comes to

homosexual behavior, Lieutenant. I’ve worked too hard to throw

it all away on a cheap thrill in an elevator or a quickie in my

office.” She opened the door again and took Jordan by the elbow.

“Out,” she said. With a little shove, Jordan was in the hallway

again.

“And she hasn’t changed a bit,” Marcel said out loud as she

slowed down for a flea market entrance. Shopping would cheer

her up considerably.

Calm Before The Storm 10

Chapter twelve

Marcel pulled the truck into her winding driveway and met

Cricket’s car coming out. Marcel stopped and rolled down her

window, but Cricket waved an angry middle finger at her and

kept going.

Okay fine, Marcel thought, and reluctantly understood

Cricket’s unwillingness to speak with her. Amanda was her

girlfriend, she reminded herself again, and then amended the

thought by saying out loud, “Is her girlfriend.”

She drove into the outrageously large eight-car garage that

held many of her mother’s vehicles, which were traded on a

regular basis when the card games were local in nature. Marcel

locked the doors and the back of the truck, making sure that the

cache of furniture she’d spent the day finagling from dealers was

secure. Marcel reasoned that the truck would be safer here at

home than sitting in the parking lot at the shop.

110 Peggy J. Herring

She was dusty and hungry, and anxious to know why Cricket

had been there. Maybe she left a note for me or something, Marcel

thought. It had been awhile since either of them had expressed

this type of anger at the other; but over the years they’d taken

turns aggravating each other, and it was Cricket’s turn to be on

the receiving end of it this time.

“There you are,” Roslin said as she came out of the kitchen

drying her hands on an apron. It always made Marcel smile

when she caught her mother in an uncharacteristically domestic

moment. Had she not known already that her mother had lost

Key West, the wearing of an apron alone would have told Marcel

that Roslin’s trip had not been a good one.

“I’m all dusty from rummaging in barns today,” Marcel

warned as Roslin came over to hug her.

“Then go take a shower. Dinner will be ready in about fifteen

minutes.”

“What was Cricket doing here?”

“We’ll talk about it over dinner.”

Marcel went into her bedroom and felt a wave of emotion the

moment she saw her bed—the place she and Amanda had made

love. She pulled open drawers and found clean clothes, and knew

that she wouldn’t be able to sleep there that night.

The shower felt good, and Marcel suddenly was quite tired.

If she could just get her mind to shut down for a few minutes,

she’d be able to sleep soon.

She went downstairs and saw the table in the dining room

set for two and realized that if she couldn’t sleep in her bed later,

then she damn well couldn’t eat on the table where Amanda

had made love to her. She picked up the two place settings and

carried them into the kitchen.

“Can we eat in here?”

“Sure, baby,” Roslin said. “Sit down. You look tired.”

Roslin set a dish of some sort of Hamburger Helper concoction

on the kitchen table and got a salad from the refrigerator.

“I thought I hid all the hamburger box things better than

that,” Marcel said, teasing her. The casserole smelled delicious.

“Under the sink next to the bug spray. Now eat up. You’ll

love it.”

Calm Before The Storm 111

Roslin’s laughter never failed to make Marcel’s mood

improve. When Marcel was in high school and Roslin would

return from a brief gambling trip, Marcel could always tell

how her mother had done by the first meal they consumed

immediately upon her arrival. If Roslin had won, then they

would pick up Cricket and go for steak. If she had lost, then

there would be something containing hamburger on the table.

And it didn’t matter what else was in the house to eat; hamburger

was the meal of choice after a financial loss.

“So,” Roslin said as she dished out healthy scoops of noodles

with chunks of ground beef clinging to it. “What possessed you

to sleep with your best friend’s lover?”

Marcel set her fork down and sighed heavily. So much for my

appetite, she thought.

“Cricket is very upset.”

“I know she is,” Marcel said. “And she has every right to be.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“But was she as upset as I was the time she told Jimmy

Sodastrum I’d started my period?”

Roslin closed her eyes and chuckled. “She’s a different kind

of upset than you were then, dear.”

Marcel sighed again. “I know.”

“She doesn’t want to see you right now, even though she

came here specifically to see you.”

“I’ll wait until she cools down a little, and then I’ll call her.”

Marcel picked up her fork again.

“You still haven’t told me what happened,” Roslin reminded

her.Marcel explained how the four of them had gone out, and

how she had come home after the movie. “Then Amanda showed

up here.”

“When did you call her?” Roslin asked.

“When did I call who?”

“Amanda.”

“I didn’t call Amanda.”

“Cricket said that she was out with Amanda and a friend

when Amanda got a call on her cell phone. At the time Cricket

didn’t know who it was, but Amanda says it was you.”

11 Peggy J. Herring

Marcel was stunned. She blinked several times and looked at

her mother again. “Amanda told Cricket that I called her?”

“That’s what Cricket says.”

Marcel had absolutely no appetite now and suddenly felt very

tired. Why would Cricket lie about that, she wondered. Cricket is a

lot of things, but she’s not a liar.

“So you didn’t call Amanda,” Roslin said gently.

Marcel closed her eyes and swallowed against that familiar

lump in her throat. “No. I didn’t call Amanda.”

“Then tell me what happened.”

“It doesn’t matter what happened.”

“It matters to Cricket.”

“I assume they’re back together,” Marcel said, her voice low

and brimming with emotion.

“It’s my understanding they’ve never been apart. Except for

the night Amanda was here.”

Marcel nodded, folded up her napkin, and set it beside

her untouched salad. “I’m going to bed. I’ll be in the guest

room.”

“Marcel,” Roslin said as she reached for her daughter’s hand.

“I’m praying to the goddess that you’re not in love with Amanda.

You deserve better than this.”

Marcel squeezed her mother’s hand. “Ya think?”

When sleep finally came, Marcel dreamed about furniture

—finding it, haggling over it, buying it, loading it, unloading

it, watching Carmen transform it into something more quaint

and useful than it had been in its original condition. Furniture,

furniture, furniture—desks, chairs, tables, beds. All night long,

Marcel kept loading it in the truck, piece after piece, as though

the trucks were actually a never-ending tunnel shaped like a

truck, and no matter how many things she put into it, there was

always room for more. But there had also been something else

that had captured Marcel’s attention in her dream. Now that

she was lying on her back in bed, staring at the ceiling in the

guest room, she remembered hands.. nice, sensitive hands..

Calm Before The Storm 11

remembered watching them as they touched a cheek. Capable

hands that cared about what they were doing. Hands that would

soothe and mend, heal and explore.

Marcel woke up a little more as she lay there. A low-wattage

light was on across the room; she guessed her mother had turned

a lamp on for her before going to bed herself. Marcel reached

over and picked up her watch on the nightstand. It was three

a.m., and she’d gotten almost five hours of sleep.

I wonder how long it’ll be before Cricket calls me, she thought.

The longest they’d ever stayed angry with each other had been

four days, and that incident had also involved a woman — a female

West Point cadet and classmate of Marcel’s who had fallen for

Cricket during one of Cricket’s many visits to New York. But for

now, Marcel didn’t know what to do about Amanda. It was clear

to her now that Amanda hadn’t been in love with her, although

Marcel would’ve been well on her way had the circumstances

been a little different. But Amanda lied to me, Marcel thought.

Lied about wanting to tell Cricket about us, and lied to Cricket about

the phone call. More than anything, Marcel felt saddened by what

had happened. Amanda wasn’t the person Marcel had thought

she was, but that didn’t comfort her.

She got up, dressed, and went downstairs, knowing that she

wouldn’t be able to sleep again. Five hours, she thought with a

smile as she found the rest of her salad in the refrigerator where

her mother had put it just hours before.

“Nice haul,” Carmen said as she climbed up into the back of

the truck.

It was an overcast day with a good chance of rain later

that afternoon. Low, rumbling thunder could be heard in the

distance, and Marcel loved it.

“How much did it cost us?” Carmen asked as she scanned

the truck’s contents. There were two old desks with spider webs

still clinging to them and several headboards made of cherry or

oak. The remaining pieces were various claw-footed tables and

an oak bookcase that had some scarring on one side.

11 Peggy J. Herring

“Two thousand for the works,” Marcel said. “The headboards

alone will bring twice that.”

“I’m thinking you’re right,” Carmen said. She unwrapped a

heavy blanket from a small table and carefully handed it down to

Marcel. “So did you have fun?”

Marcel smiled. “You know I did.”

“Who helped you load all this stuff?”

“I hired two high-school boys who were mowing grass next

door.” Marcel quietly thanked Carmen a hundred times for

insisting that they pay the extra and get a truck with a lift on it.

“Did I get any calls while I was gone?”

“Jordan,” Carmen said.

“Nothing from Cricket or Amanda?”

“No, just Jordan. And she sounded a bit distracted, but with

her it’s hard to really tell.”

“Maybe the General came home and found out how much

she spent on the desk.”

They got the truck unloaded and everything spread out in

Carmen’s workshop area. The pieces that Marcel had gotten

from the barn sale in Mason were spider infested. Occasionally

she heard Carmen cut loose with some colorful Spanish, which

was always followed by loud stomping noises.

If buying old furniture was Marcel’s passion, then cleaning it

up after its purchase ran a close second. After the initial spiders

and rodent droppings were adequately taken care of, she liked

checking the old desks for anything that had been left behind by

a previous owner. In the past, she’d found Indian-head pennies,

old postage stamps, love letters, postcards, and antique fountain

pens. Some furniture pieces would only need to be wiped down

and cleaned properly, while others would need to have more

attention.

“A little lemon oil on this one and it’ll be fine,” Carmen said

as she stepped back and gave a small end table her full attention.

“Did you have any problems while you were gone? Did you find

places you’d like to go back to?”

Marcel nodded. “I was in heaven. See that oak headboard? I

battled a nest of hornets for it.”

“I would’ve left it.”

Calm Before The Storm 11

“And that’s why I don’t take you with me.”

They worked on their new acquisitions into the late afternoon

in between handling customers and answering the phone.

Curious people from the neighborhood were still dropping by

to check them out, and the usual rush of customers during the

day kept Marcel on the run. They were busiest on the weekends

and in the afternoons when people were on their way home from

work, but there was still a steady flow of customers most of the

day.Marcel had just finished rubbing lemon oil on the oak

headboard when she heard the door ding, announcing the arrival

of more customers. She went to greet them, wiping her hands on

a soft, clean rag, and found Cricket in the showroom, wide-eyed

and pale.

“Hi,” Marcel said quietly. She was glad to see her and relieved

that they would finally get everything out in the open. Cricket’s

expression, however, didn’t relay the anger that Marcel had

expected to see there. “Hey,” Marcel said. “Are you okay?”

“Your mother,” Cricket mumbled. Her eyes were the size

of walnuts, and Cricket was so upset that Marcel immediately

thought the worst.

Her heart began to pound, and a paralyzing fear overcame

her as Marcel was barely able to utter, “What’s happened to my

mother?”

“Your mother,” Cricket muttered again. “I. .oh, Jesus. I

kissed her. I. .”

Marcel blinked rapidly a few times and then turned her

head as though trying to tune Cricket’s voice in better. “What?”

Marcel said. She knew that she’d misunderstood her. “Is my

mother okay? When did you see her last?”

“I just came from your house.”

“Was my mother all right?”

“Yes,” Cricket said. “Your mother is fine. She’s incredible, in

fact. My god, Marcel. I kissed her!”

That same wide-eyed, shocked expression had returned,

which made Marcel stop and finally listen to what Cricket was

saying.

“You kissed her,” Marcel repeated as her heart rate began

11 Peggy J. Herring

to return to normal. Her mother wasn’t dying. Cricket was just

being silly and scaring her on purpose. She allowed herself to

be angry now that she knew her mother was okay. “Kissed her

how?”

Cricket’s eyes brimmed with tears and fear. “A lips-parted-

tongue-in-her-mouth kiss. A kiss kiss!”

It was now Marcel’s turn to mimic the wide-eyed look. “A kiss

kiss?” Her nose curled up a little at the thought of what Cricket

was suggesting.

“But that’s not the part that has me so—”

“You kissed my mother?” Marcel said incredulously. “Are

you bullshitting me?”

“As God is my witness. I’m so serious that I think I might

faint.”

“Why would you do such a thing?”

“I don’t know!”

Marcel was still a bit stunned at Cricket’s confession. “What

did she do?”

Cricket’s eyes widened again. “She kissed me back!”

Marcel’s short, abrupt laughter broke some of the tension.

No way was she buying this. “Sure she did. Okay. What’s this

really all about?”

Cricket closed her eyes and visibly trembled. “She did,

Marcel. As God is my—”

“I heard you the first time, Scarlet,” Marcel said. “It’s just

that I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t care what you believe. I need your help. What should

I do now?”

“What about Amanda?” Marcel asked. Why this question

was suddenly so important, she didn’t have a clue.

“Amanda,” Cricket repeated. Her walnut-shaped eyes

suddenly became menacing slits at the reminder of Marcel’s

betrayal. “Oh yes. Amanda. I forgot that I wasn’t speaking to

you.”“So to get even with me for Amanda, you decided to kiss my

mother?”

“I’ve waited my whole life to kiss your mother!” Cricket shot

back.

Calm Before The Storm 11

“I still don’t believe you.”

“Forget it. Is Carmen here? I need a real friend right now.”

“She’s in the back. Knock yourself out.”

As Cricket went through the door that led to the workshop

area, Marcel reached for the phone to call her mother.

“Cricket’s here,” Marcel said as soon as Roslin answered.

“And she’s acting weirder than usual.”

“Can I speak to her?” Roslin asked. Marcel could tell by her

mother’s voice that she was upset.

“She’s with Carmen right now. I’ll get her in a minute.”

Marcel felt her heart begin rapidly thumping again. “Tell me

what happened.”

“Not yet. I’m not ready to talk about it.”

Omigod, it’s true! She was shocked and bewildered, but knew

that when she got home later she would somehow get the details

out of her.

“Oh, by the way,” Roslin said. Marcel had to press the phone

closer to her ear as the rumble of thunder made it hard for her to

hear. “General Wheatly called and left you a message.”

Wanting a clarification of that statement, Marcel said, “You

mean his secretary called. Generals don’t know how to use a

phone on their own.”

“No, he called.” Roslin laughed as she seemed to return to

normal again. “And from what I remember, you forgot how to

dial a phone the minute you got a secretary, so this isn’t just a

general thing. It’s an officer thing.”

“Did he say what he wanted?” Marcel asked, ignoring her as

another low rumble of thunder made her listen more carefully.

“He wants you to call him,” Roslin said and gave her the

number. “Can I speak to Cricket now?”

“I’m worried about you.”

“I know you are,” Roslin said quietly. “And maybe you should

be. Now let me talk to Cricket.”

“Yeah, sure.” Marcel stuck her head in the workshop and

told Cricket she had a phone call.

11 Peggy J. Herring

Marcel was tired and went home early; Carmen volunteered

to close up for her. When she left, Cricket was still on the phone

with Roslin, which irritated Marcel even more.

“That’s a business phone,” Marcel said as she gathered a few

of her things from behind the counter, unceremoniously moving

Cricket out of the way.

“You’ve got call waiting,” Cricket said as she covered the

phone with her hand. “I’m taking care of things. Can I have a

little privacy here?”

Marcel left and delivered the ad she’d spent days working on.

She drove home with her windows down and liked the sound of

thunder in the distance. The temperature had dropped about

fifteen degrees into the low seventies, and weather reports on

the radio were predicting storms all evening. Being from south

Texas where droughts were common, she loved thunderstorms

and the anticipation of rain.

When she finally got home, her mother was on the phone,

and Marcel could tell that she was still talking to Cricket. A

glance at her watch verified that they’d been at it for over an

hour. Roslin saw her and finished her call.

“That was Cricket,” she said.

“I know. What’s going on? She told me what happened

today.”

Roslin shrugged. “I told you earlier that I’m not ready to talk

about it yet.”

Marcel sat on the arm of the sofa with a decisive plop. She

had always confided in her mother, and Roslin’s reluctance to

share things with her often left Marcel confused and hurt.

“I don’t know which one of us was more surprised,” Roslin

said after a moment. She stood next to the sofa and leaned down

to kiss the top of Marcel’s head. “Cricket was surprised that she

had such courage, while I was surprised that I responded to her

so quickly.” She sat down across from Marcel in an overstuffed

chair.

Marcel was at a total loss for words. This was unreal, and

she suddenly felt out of sync with her surroundings. She was

so angry with Cricket for bringing this element into her life,

and she could barely restrain herself from getting in her car and

Calm Before The Storm 11

paying Cricket a little visit. Never had her mother ever made a

reference to anything even closely resembling her own sexuality,

so this entire incident had Marcel confused and dazed.

Marcel’s father had died in an auto accident in Paris when

Marcel was only a few months old. Roslin and Marcel had

returned to Texas three years later when Roslin’s father became

ill. Armand Robicheaux, Marcel’s father, left them financially

secure because of his death, and Marcel’s grandfather had been

heavily insured as well when he finally died. Roslin had invested

most of that money for Marcel and had refrained from touching

it even during the hamburger years, but once Marcel was out of

school and on her own, she had made wise investments and had

done well in the military. Money had never been a real problem

for either of them. Roslin had never remarried, and Marcel

couldn’t remember her ever dating. Roslin had told her once

that Marcel’s father had been the love of her life and that until

something drastic changed, that’s the way it would always be.

“Did you call the General back?” Roslin asked, cutting into

Marcel’s thoughts.

“No.” She glanced at her watch and decided that General

Wheatly had probably left his office for the day.

“I still have the number over there by the phone,” Roslin

said. “He was pleasant but insistent.”

Marcel decided to call him and get it over with.

It was a number she wasn’t familiar with, which meant that

he wasn’t at the office or at home. And there was no area code,

so the General wasn’t out of town on business. He answered

immediately, and Marcel could tell that he was on a cell phone.

“Yes, General. This is Colonel Robicheaux. My mother gave

me your message.”

“Marcel,” he grunted. “Thank you for returning my call. I

have something to discuss with you. Be in my office in thirty

minutes.”

Two things immediately caught her attention, the first being

his patronizing tone. Marcel had identified herself as “Colonel”

Robicheaux, but he had chosen to call her by her first name when

he addressed her. In the past during staff meetings, he would call

Marcel’s male colleagues who were in attendance by their rank

10 Peggy J. Herring

and last name, while referring to her by her first name only. On the

surface, it looked as though he knew her better than the others,

when in fact he knew them all equally well. It was a power thing

for him—a way to lessen her presence among her peers, a way to

point out just one more time that her accomplishments or ability

to achieve the rank of colonel was somehow less important than

anything her male counterparts had done. Marcel’s retirement

subsequently gave her the freedom to finally be angry about

such treatment. She was no longer willing to accept it.

Then the second thing that immediately sent her anger

shooting to the surface was how he ordered her to his office. Be

in my office in thirty minutes, she thought. Who does he think he is?

Not only was he no longer her boss, but she was now a civilian

and couldn’t be ordered anywhere. A simple please would’ve done

wonders here, she thought.

“I’m not going to your office, General. I have things to do.

What is it you want? Can it be taken care of on the phone?”

“No,” he barked. “If not in my office, then where? This

can’t be discussed on the telephone.” After a pause, he snapped,

“Where are you?”

“I’m at home,” Marcel said, her own irritation beginning to

show.

“Then I’ll be there in ten minutes,” he said and hung up.

Marcel stood there holding the phone in disbelief. “He’s

coming over,” she said, and looked at her mother.

“Here? What does he want?” Roslin got up and immediately

began straightening the two magazines on a small table near the

fireplace. The house was immaculate, but Roslin apparently had

an urge to find something to clean.

After hanging up with the General, Marcel called the

shop to see if Carmen was still there. When she answered,

Marcel asked her what Jordan had wanted when she’d called

yesterday.

“She didn’t say, but she didn’t sound like herself either. More

subdued than usual.”

“Okay, thanks.”

“Wait!” Carmen said before Marcel hung up again. “Cricket’s

still here.”

Calm Before The Storm 11

In the next second, Cricket was on the phone. “Is your

mother there by chance?”

Marcel rolled her eyes and held the phone out to her mother.

“Here. It’s for you.”

General Wheatly was punctual, and Marcel didn’t want to

think about how or why he knew where she lived. Her address

was no secret, but this was a man who was accustomed to being

driven everywhere, having doors opened and calls placed for him.

But here he was standing on her porch in his uniform, which

Marcel imagined to be just one more attempt to intimidate her.

Jordan had commented once that Big Boy even had his rank sewn

on his pajamas, and seeing him now made Marcel remember that

and smile.

“General Wheatly,” she said as she opened the door wider for

him. “Please come in. What brings you out on a day like this?”

The thunder had gradually been moving closer, and flashes of

lightning lit up the dark sky.

“I need a word with you in private,” he said.

Marcel could hear her mother giggling on the phone in the

other room, and she knew that after tending to the General,

she’d have a little discussion with her about Cricket. Giggling,

Marcel thought. My mother’s giggling, for crissakes!

“We can talk in my study,” she said and led the way down

the hall. She offered him something to drink, but he declined.

Marcel was a bit relieved by that because she didn’t want him

there any longer than necessary. She closed the door and nodded

toward one of the two chairs in the room near her desk.

“I’ll get right to the point,” he said. “I have a meeting with

my lawyer in an hour.” He sat down and for the first time Marcel

noticed how angry he was. “My wife has informed me that she’s

been having. .an affair with you.”

He said the word affair as though he were coughing up a fur

ball. Marcel initially thought he was joking, but as she zeroed in

on his anger again, it was clear how serious he was.

“I’ll be divorcing her and suing you for alienation of affection.

1 Peggy J. Herring

In addition, I suggest you get ready to fork over every last cent

the United States Army has paid you over the years.” Under his

breath she heard him mumble, “Dyke bitch.” He snapped his

head up and said, “I also plan to ensure you never see any of your

retirement check!”

Marcel stared at him. Key words and phrases were bouncing

around in her head . .affair, alienation of affection, divorce, dyke bitch.

She couldn’t believe he had invited himself into her home only to

accuse her of something so outrageous.

“You can’t even deny it,” he said in a vicious spew as he

twitched in his chair.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” Marcel said. “Jordan told

you this?” Jordan called yesterday, Marcel remembered suddenly.

And Carmen said she had sounded strange.

“I’ve taken care of my wife. Now I’m taking care of you.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear, General.”

“Why would she lie about you, but admit sleeping with a

dyke?”

“I can’t begin to explain her motives for anything.”

“Stop it! Stop it right now!” he yelled.

“Excuse me? How dare you come into my home and talk to

me this way! You can take your threats and put them—”

“You think these are threats? You’re very wrong there,

Colonel. These are promises!”

“Why,” Marcel said, raising her voice to match his, “why

would you think of taking something like this public? Alienation

of affection. You’ll not only be the laughing stock of San Antonio

and Fort Sam Houston, but of the entire Armed Forces!”

“Scum like you in uniform for twenty years,” he seethed.

“You make me sick!”

“I’m admitting to nothing. You have nothing.”

“You don’t have to admit to anything. My wife already did

that for you. I’ll see you in court.”

He got up and left, slamming the door on his way out of the

study. Marcel could hear her mother’s cheerful voice greeting

him in the hallway before she came into Marcel’s study with a

raised eyebrow.

“I heard yelling,” Roslin said. “What did he want?”

Calm Before The Storm 1

Marcel crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back

against the corner of her desk. Her mind was racing as she

attempted to process what had just happened.

“Marcel.”

“I’m not ready to talk about it yet,” Marcel said.

“No fair! That’s my line!”

Shaking with anger, Marcel wondered why Jordan would

lie about such a thing. Marcel rebuffing Jordan’s advances had

almost become a game for them. Amanda’s face immediately

popped into her head and she thought suddenly, Two women in

two days have lied about me. Marcel felt sick.

“Hey,” Roslin said gently. “What did he want? You’re so

pale. You’re scaring me.”

“He’s a bit irrational right now, I think.” She didn’t have

Jordan’s phone number with her, then remembered that it was

probably on Jordan’s check from the desk purchase over the

weekend.

“Why will he be seeing you in court? That much I heard.”

Marcel left the study to get her briefcase where the weekend’s

receipts were. Roslin was right behind her, asking a string of

questions only to receive a series of grunts from Marcel. After

finally locating her briefcase and rummaging through it in search

of Jordan’s check, she snatched it up and began dialing.

“You’re ignoring me,” Roslin said, “and you know how I hate

that.”

“What’s good for the goose is good for the goose.”

Roslin squinted at her with a puzzled expression.

“It’s a lesbian expression,” Marcel said. “No ganders. Two

geese. Never mind.”

“What in the world are you talking about?”

“Never mind. Never mind.” When the Wheatlys’ answering

machine kicked in, Marcel felt anxious and on the verge of raw

emotion. “Jordan,” she said after the canned greeting finished.

“If you’re there answer the phone. It’s Marcel. I need to talk to

you.”She was relieved to hear someone pick up the phone.

“Marcel.”

“Jordan? Is that you?”

1 Peggy J. Herring

“Yes,” came the low breathy whisper. “I’m so sorry.” Jordan

was crying and Marcel’s anger and frustration diminished a bit.

“I can’t talk. He’s given me an hour to get out.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“He slapped me a few times, but I pushed him into it.”

“Do you have a place to go?”

“I’m going to Heidi’s house. She won’t like it, but I’m going

there anyway. I can’t talk now.”

“Wait!” Marcel said. “Isn’t there somewhere else you can

go? If he finds you at Captain Cooper’s house, he’ll make things

impossible for her. For both of you.”

In a near whisper Jordan said, “I’ve taken care of that already.

I’ve sold you out, Marcel. I told him I was having an affair with

you so he’d stop looking. You’re out of the Army now. He can’t

hurt you.”

Marcel’s breathing changed, and her anger came back with such

intensity that she began shaking. “You told him it was me,” she said

through clenched teeth. For some reason, hearing Jordan say it was a

thousand times worse than hearing the General say it.

“I had to. He caught me in a lie I couldn’t talk my way out of.”

Jordan had stopped crying now and was beginning to sound more

like her usual spunky self. “And I figured he couldn’t do anything

to you now that you’re retired. He wanted a name and —”

“I’ve spent years,” Marcel said in a low, eerie voice. “Years

being selective about who I spend my time with. Years nurturing

my reputation just so I could finally do what I love doing. And

here you are. You come along and accuse me of something like

this and throw it all away. Cheapening my life for what? To save

your girlfriend’s career?”

“I have to go, Marcel.”

“Jordan, so help me. .” Marcel was too angry to even finish her

sentence. She hung up the phone and closed her eyes, hoping that her

fury would pass before she did something dangerously irrational.

“Start talking,” Roslin said as she led Marcel to the sofa.

“Tell me everything.”

Calm Before The Storm 1

Chapter thirteen

Marcel had gotten forty-five minutes worth of sleep and

finally just got out of bed at five o’clock the next morning to

begin her day. Her mother’s concern and willingness to find a

solution to what she referred to as “the Wheatly problem” had

kept them up into the wee hours of the morning. At one point

Roslin was ready to call one of her gambling friends from New

York and have him arrange to have “a word” with the General.

“I’m sure Mr. Battaglia can have his boys here in no time,”

Roslin said over her third glass of wine. “They can make cement

combat boots in the General’s size, I’m sure.”

“And where would they throw him?” Marcel asked. “The

San Antonio river is barely deep enough to float a canoe.”

Roslin cut loose with a wine-induced cackle. “Okay, okay,

okay. So here’s what we do. Instead of the cement boots, I’ll see

if they can make a special cement helmet for him and we’ll throw

him in the river headfirst. How’s that?”

Marcel was never quite sure how many, if any, of her mother’s

1 Peggy J. Herring

gambling acquaintances were unsavory characters. She did know,

however, that her mother had friends all over the world—some

in high places. And if the General were to come up missing at

some point, Marcel would have no trouble asking her mother

where the authorities needed to look for him.

“How much sleep did you get?” Carmen asked as soon as

Marcel arrived at the Antique Villa.

“An hour. Does it show?”

“Far be it from me to tell you that you look like hell. A trip

to the doctor should be agenda material, I think.”

“What I need,” Marcel said tiredly, “is to get my life in order.”

“You’ve had that before and it didn’t work. You still couldn’t

sleep.” Carmen pulled up a chair and insisted that Marcel sit

down. She then went to the tiny kitchen area in the back and

returned with a steaming cup of herbal tea. “Drink this,” Carmen

said. “It’ll relax you.”

“Is this more of that kelp concoction you tried to give me

once?”

“No. This is worse, but drink it anyway.”

As Marcel sat and held her cup, Carmen rubbed her shoulders

with slow, soothing movements.

“Your mother told me how upset Cricket still is with you,”

Carmen said.

Marcel closed her eyes and felt limp like a noodle. “When

did you talk to her? She was asleep when I left this morning.”

“Yesterday, after Cricket left here.”

Carmen’s fingers moved from Marcel’s shoulders to her

neck, and Marcel was close to a dreamlike state when Carmen

spoke again.

“You’re not drinking.”

Marcel sighed and took a sip of the hot tea. “This stuff stinks.

What is it?”

“Just drink. It’ll help relax you.”

“I’m already relaxed.”

Carmen gently rubbed both sides of her neck, her ears, and

Calm Before The Storm 1

her temples. “There is something else,” Carmen said. “I can feel

it. Tell me what you’re thinking right now.”

“I’m thinking,” Marcel said dreamily as she took another sip

from the mug, “that we’d be rich if you’d find a way to bottle a

massage.” She could hear Carmen’s soft chuckle as though she

were far away.

“Drink,” Carmen said again, and Marcel took another sip.

“We have a bed in there for you if you get sleepy.”

Marcel smiled. “Thanks. Maybe later. By the way. Guess what

happened to me last night? I had a visit from General Wheatly.”

She went on to explain her conversation with him.

“So you are sleeping with Jordan,” Carmen said. Her fingers

stopped massaging and rested on Marcel’s shoulders.

“Of course not,” Marcel said. “That’s just what Jordan told him.”

She turned her head and looked up at Carmen, who seemed to be

scrutinizing her in return. “I can’t believe you asked me that.”

“Hey, these are strange times. You’re sleeping with Amanda,

and now Cricket’s kissing your mother. Nothing would surprise

me, I guess.” She started massaging Marcel’s neck again.

“I was only with Amanda once.”

“That’s not what Cricket says. Drink some more tea.”

“Cricket can go piss up a rope,” Marcel mumbled. “I can’t

believe all these rumors that are flying around. Oh, and I didn’t

even tell you about the best part of the General’s visit last night.

He plans to sue me for alienation of affection.”

The hands stopped massaging again. “Is he serious?”

“He sounded serious.”

Carmen’s laughter echoed throughout the entire showroom.

“This is great! Every wire service in the country will pick it up.

You can’t beat publicity like that.” Her fingers began moving

again with renewed vigor. “This will be so good for business.

We won’t be able to keep up!”

Marcel looked at her in amazement. “He’s threatening to

drag my name through the mud and all you can think about is

how good it’ll be for business?”

“They’ll come flocking to see you. Tabloids, newspapers,

CNN, The Army Times! And we’ll only grant them interviews if

they buy something.”

1 Peggy J. Herring

Marcel groaned when she realized that Carmen was teasing

her.“You really never slept with Jordan?”

“No, I never slept with Jordan. Never wanted to and never

plan to. She’s lying to protect her girlfriend.”

“And who’s her girlfriend?” Carmen prompted.

“Depends on which day of the week it is, I think.”

By early afternoon Marcel was winding down, and she was

relieved to know that she’d be able to sleep that night. She had felt

less anxious and a tad bit mellow after finishing the tea Carmen

had made for her. Off and on during the day, Carmen would

pop in from her work area to remind her that there was a bed in

Marcel’s office if she got sleepy.

“I can handle things here,” Carmen said. She had a paint

smudge on her cheek and what appeared to be sawdust in her

hair.“What have you been doing back there?” Marcel asked.

“Killing more spiders mostly.”

The door dinged, announcing the arrival of another customer.

“Hello,” Naomi said. “I got your call about finding a table I

might be interested in.”

“I have it in the back,” Carmen said.

Marcel had no idea what they were talking about. “Carmen

called you,” she said after a moment.

“Yes,” Naomi said. “This morning, in fact.” Naomi put

her elbows on the counter and smiled engagingly as she leaned

forward. Her dark curls framed an interesting, oval face. She

was attractive, with dark brown eyes and an endearing crooked

smile. Marcel was glad to see her and was flattered by Naomi’s

obvious interest in her.

“So,” Naomi said. “Will you have dinner with me tonight? I

plan to keep asking, so you might as well say yes now and get it

over with.”

Marcel liked Naomi’s persistence and found it refreshing,

but she was a bit concerned about getting involved with someone

Calm Before The Storm 1

that Cricket had an eye on. Marcel’s relationship with Cricket

didn’t need another damaging blow so soon after the Amanda

incident.

“Dinner,” Naomi said again. “Just two people having dinner.

You have to eat anyway, so why not do it with me?”

Carmen came in from the workshop carrying the small

table. “Is this what you were looking for?” She set it down and

then stood back to admire it.

“Perfect,” Naomi said with a smile.

Carmen nodded and returned to her work area in the back of

the shop. Naomi was obviously pleased with the find and wrote

a check for her purchase.

“Dinner,” she said again as she handed the check over. Her

smile was shy, and Marcel saw something in her eyes that she

hadn’t noticed before. Marcel sensed a reining-in of something

new, something resembling desire and eagerness, as though

Naomi wanted to say more and do more but thought it wiser

not to. This “something” that Marcel saw touched her in a way

she had never experienced before. It went beyond flattery and

hovered near a stronger, deeper feeling. Naomi’s attention and

easygoing manner struck a chord in Marcel, and she allowed

herself to accept it a bit more easily. Something else also came to

her as Naomi slid her driver’s license across the counter. Marcel

took the check and handed the license back to her without looking

at it, but remembered what Carmen had said about Naomi after

the grand opening. The other two want to bed you. This one wants

to know you.

Marcel finished the transaction and said, “Dinner at seven

sound okay?”

Trying to appear cool even though her eyes were dancing,

Naomi said, “Seven’s fine. I’ll meet you somewhere. What

sounds good?”

“Let’s keep it simple,” Marcel said, and then suggested a

coffee shop just down the street. She offered to help Naomi get

the table in her car.

Marcel held the door open and then suggested they try

getting it in the backseat. After rearranging a few things, the

table was safely in place.

10 Peggy J. Herring

“Seven,” Naomi said as she dropped her car keys in the

parking lot for the second time.

“Seven,” Marcel repeated. She waved and then went back

inside only to find Carmen behind the counter shaking her

head.“The General is suing you because you’re sleeping with his

wife. Your best friend isn’t talking to you because you slept with

her girlfriend. And now I overhear you making a date with —”

“I never slept with the General’s wife,” Marcel reminded her

pointedly. “Why do you keep forgetting that?”

“It’s just a technicality. You know what? Maybe you should

have slept with her since we all think you did anyway.”

“I’ve got the truth on my side.”

“Whoop-de-do.”

Naomi was waiting in the restaurant’s parking lot when

Marcel arrived. Marcel was tired and knew better than to start

thinking about how quickly she would be able to fall asleep when

she got home. Anticipating sleep was the second fastest way she

knew of to keep her awake, with number one on the list still

being sex. But as far as the sex thing went, Marcel always kept

in mind that if she had to be awake anyway, she might as well be

happy while she was doing it.

“The table fits perfectly next to my sofa at home,” Naomi

said. “I appreciate your finding it for me.”

“Not a problem. That’s a big part of what I do now.”

They located a table in the restaurant, scanned the menus,

and gave their orders to the waitress. Marcel settled into the

booth comfortably and couldn’t believe how relaxed and good

she felt.

“How was your day?” Naomi asked. Her hands were folded

on the table, and Marcel noticed the sparkle in her dark brown

eyes.“My day was busy. How was yours?”

“The cars parked on both sides of me at school today had

their hubcaps stolen. At first I felt guilty because mine had been

spared, but then I saw how silly that was.”

“A nice stroke of luck.”

Naomi nodded. “When something good happens to me, I

Calm Before The Storm 11

have trouble accepting it sometimes. But I think things happen

for a reason.” She took a sip of her water. “Do you believe in

destiny?”

“I’m a romantic,” Marcel said. “I believe in everything.”

She found herself being unexpectedly entertained as dinner

progressed. The conversation never once turned serious, and

there was no further indication that Naomi was nervous about

being with her. Marcel enjoyed her company and liked Naomi’s

insight and her ability to laugh at herself.

Marcel noticed that the more time they spent together, the

better she liked it. At one point during dinner, she again admitted

to herself that she was attracted to Naomi, and only briefly

wondered how that could have happened so quickly since less

than a week ago she had thought she was in love with Amanda.

It’s Naomi’s honesty, she thought. Everything about her is right there

in her eyes. And she’s funny. She makes me laugh. I need more of that

in my life right now.

In the parking lot after dinner, they made plans to do it again

on Thursday night. Marcel liked thinking of it as a date and

pushed all thought of Naomi’s being Cricket’s latest obsession

out of her head. She got in her car and drove home yawning,

which delighted her. Sleep would come easily that night and

would help recharge her batteries for the week.

When she got home, she heard her mother talking to someone

in the living room. Marcel peeked around the corner and saw that

Roslin was on the phone. They waved, and Roslin covered the

receiver to let her know that she was talking to Cricket. Marcel

pantomimed a yawn and pointed toward the stairs.

“And tell Cricket that I had a date tonight with one of her

girlfriends,” Marcel said loudly enough for Cricket to hear on

the other end of the phone.

Roslin laughed. “Cricket heard you and is being quite colorful

right now, dear.”

1 Peggy J. Herring

Marcel woke up at seven the next morning and felt groggy.

Knowing that Carmen would be at the shop to take care of things

made moving quickly less of an emergency.

Roslin was already up and dressed, and she handed her a

steaming cup of decaf as soon as she shuffled into the kitchen.

“I’ve taken the liberty of speaking to a lawyer for you,”

Roslin said. “About the General Wheatly thing.”

“Oh,” Marcel said. Her voice was still laced with sleep.

“And once the lawyer stopped laughing, she said that the

General would be crazy to do it, but we can’t stop him.”

“Didn’t we know that already?”

“We did, but now it’s official. His trying to have your

retirement benefits revoked is ridiculous,” Roslin said. “I’m not

sure he’s playing with a full deck, as we say in my profession.”

She handed Marcel two slices of cinnamon toast. “You finally

got some sleep, baby?”

“Yes. Finally.”

“Can I handle the General problem for you?” Roslin asked

sweetly.

Marcel smiled and answered just as sweetly, “You can, as

long as he doesn’t end up with cement on any part of his body.”

Calm Before The Storm 1

Chapter FOurteen

Marcel wasn’t quite sure what to expect the next time she

met Amanda, but the anger she felt when she saw her wasn’t a

surprise. Marcel was at an office supply store getting supplies

for the shop when she literally ran into her near a fax-machine

display. Rolls of cash register tape and a package of sales-receipt

books went in several directions as she and Amanda stared at

each other.

“Hi,” Amanda finally said while handing over a box of price

tags that had landed on her foot.

“I’ve got it. Thanks.”

Amanda let her hands fall to her sides. “I’m sorry I never got

back to you. Things have been—”

“Don’t give me another thought,” Marcel said quietly. She

turned and went to stand in line at the checkout counter and

1 Peggy J. Herring

managed to reel in her anger. It was the lying that she had hated

the most—not so much that Amanda and Cricket were still

together, or that Amanda had never called her after that night.

Marcel firmly believed that Amanda had never intended to tell

Cricket that they had slept together, and that hurt. She was also

wondering if maybe the only reason Amanda had slept with her

at all was in order to get back at Cricket for being interested in

Naomi. That scenario was beginning to look more like the truth

than anything else, and it made Marcel feel cheap and used.

Once she was finished in line, Marcel collected her purchases

and went outside into the April afternoon heat only to find

Amanda waiting for her at the car.

“Let me at least try to explain,” Amanda said. Marcel ignored

her and unlocked her car door. “Please.”

“Explain to me why you lied about wanting to tell Cricket

about us,” Marcel said simply. Horrified at being close to tears,

she tossed the bag of supplies in her front seat and said, “On

second thought, it doesn’t matter.” She tried to get in her car,

but Amanda held on to the door and wouldn’t let her open it all

the way.

“Please, Marcel. Don’t do this. Let me explain.”

“I said it doesn’t matter.”

“Things changed once I saw Cricket again.”

Marcel glared at her and said, “Let go of the door.”

“I couldn’t do it. I—”

“Let go of the door.”

Amanda removed her hand from the door, but didn’t get out

of the way. “I haven’t handled this very well.”

“A gross understatement.”

“I never meant to hurt you.”

“As I said before, don’t give me another thought. I do have

a question, though. Why does Cricket think I called you at the

club that night? Why does she think that?”

Amanda’s eyes widened, and she immediately turned pale.

Marcel held the look and showed no mercy in her contempt.

Amanda backpedaled away from the car. Marcel got in her car

and drove away. How she ever thought she could have been in

love with that woman was a mystery.

Calm Before The Storm 1

“I think we have the General’s attention,” Roslin said later

that evening as she steadily packed her suitcase. Marcel was

stretched out on the end of Roslin’s bed with her head propped

up. She had been watching her mother pack for business trips

ever since she was a kid. Some of their best talks had taken place

as toiletries were put into resealable plastic bags.

“I made a little call to one of my senator friends,” Roslin

said. “We’ve been gambling associates for years, and he owes me

more favors than he cares to remember. Anyway, it looks like the

General is about to be reassigned.”

“He’s not due to leave here for another year yet,” Marcel said

skeptically.

“Not now! Special assignment. He’ll be gone in two weeks.”

Marcel sat up. “Are they promoting him? Is he getting

another star out of this?”

“Special assignment. No more stars.” With a wink she added,

“I took care of that, too.” Roslin carefully folded a nightgown

and placed it in the suitcase. “He’ll forget all about this as soon

as he’s rubbing elbows at the Pentagon again.”

Marcel didn’t trust her mother’s “senator friend” or anyone

else for that matter. She had an appointment with a lawyer the

next day and wanted a better idea about what to expect with all of

this lawsuit business. Her lawyer’s suggestion about countersuing

the Wheatlys for both libel and slander was high on her list of

priorities. “We’ll countersue for both,” the lawyer had said. “If

we lose on one, we might win on the other.”

“And if this little transfer thing doesn’t work,” Roslin said,

“then I’ll have to find those pictures I have of him in Tijuana.”

She neatly folded an elegant slip and tucked it in the suitcase. “But

I hate having to resort to that. It’s so. .so. .low and despicable.”

“What pictures? Are you talking about pictures of the

Senator or pictures of the General?”

“The Senator gave me pictures of the General.” Roslin glanced

around the room. “But I don’t remember where I put them.”

Marcel sat up a little straighter on the bed and cautiously

1 Peggy J. Herring

watched her mother. A chill raced down her arms as she realized

that things may not be quite as they seemed. “Please tell me

you’re kidding about all of this.”

“Do I sound like I’m kidding?”

“Okay,” Marcel said as she firmly planted her feet on the

floor. “Tell me exactly what you’ve done so far. And start from

the moment the General left this house the other night.”

As Roslin talked and explained each move that had been

made, anxiety started building in Marcel’s chest. According to

Roslin, a gambling acquaintance from New York had sent a few

of his “boys” to San Antonio to have a word with the General. In

the meantime, the Senator had put both of the Wheatlys under

twenty-four-hour surveillance. Roslin’s New York friend and

the Senator were operating separately and didn’t know what the

other was doing, but Roslin assured Marcel that both parties

only had her best interest in mind.

“Jordan is shacking up with Heidi Cooper, in case you

weren’t aware of who the other woman was,” Roslin informed

her smugly.

“I knew that already,” Marcel said. Her head began to swim

with all this information. She quickly collected her thoughts and

said, “I want your friend from New York to have his.. his boys

go back home. And I want you to tell the Senator to drop the

surveillance on the Wheatlys.”

“But we’re just getting started!”

“This has gotten totally out of control. Totally.”

“He’s playing dirty so—”

“But that’s not the way I do things.” Marcel looked at her

mother as if she were seeing a stranger. “And you should know

that already.”

Silk panties were folded with more emphasis than before and

then were stuffed in the suitcase as if being punished. “How I

raised such a little patriot I’ll never know. Let me handle this,

Marcel.”

“It’s my problem. I’ll take care of it.” Marcel could tell by the

way her mother continued folding her clothes with exaggerated

motions that she was mad and not listening to her. “I mean it,”

Marcel warned.

Calm Before The Storm 1

“I’ve gone to a lot of trouble. You’re putting me in an awkward

position here.”

Marcel knew she didn’t have to say anything else. She left

her mother alone to finish packing for her trip, and she could

trust that the appropriate phone calls would be made later.

At nine-thirty while working in her study, Marcel heard

her mother answer the doorbell. The sound of a cheerful but

muffled female voice didn’t give away who the visitor was, but

when Roslin didn’t knock on Marcel’s door, it was evident that

the visitor wasn’t there to see her.

Marcel had some bookkeeping to do and a bank deposit

for the week’s receipts to prepare for the next day. She also had

the newspaper handy so that she could search for estate sales

going on that week. Business was excellent, and the Antique

Villa was showing a sizable profit already. Keeping up with the

steady demand for fresh inventory was Marcel’s biggest job at

the moment.

Needing something to drink a while later, Marcel headed

toward the kitchen. She heard what she thought sounded like

groaning coming from the living room, and she stopped to peek

around the corner. A bare leg was draped over the top of the sofa;

the rose tattoo near the bare ankle belonged to her mother, and

Cricket’s green backpack was on the floor nearby.

Marcel was in shock as she stared at the tattoo, but her shock

was immediately replaced by anger. The sight of her mother

having sex at all was unthinkable. Not to mention lesbian sex!

Marcel edged back down the hallway and returned to her

office. She closed the door quietly and leaned against it, stunned.

Maybe that wasn’t my mother’s leg I just saw, she thought, grasping

for a reasonable explanation, but she knew better. She would

know that tattoo anywhere.

Two hours later, still “trapped” in her study, Marcel glanced

1 Peggy J. Herring

at her watch and wondered how long she would have to stay

there. She couldn’t believe how careless her mother had been...

how insensitive and foolish their actions were. Had her mother

forgotten that Marcel was still in the house? Having spent the

last twenty-four years of her life in a closeted environment

where the smallest indiscretion could have ruined her career or

thrown suspicion her way, Marcel had very low tolerance for such

behavior. She kept going over things in her head. Is it because my

mother is having lesbian sex? she wondered. Is it because she’s out

there going at it on the sofa? Or because it’s Cricket, my best friend.

Cricket, the lesbian social butterfly?

Marcel was not at all happy with this new development.

Cricket was the last person in the world whom she wanted her

mother involved with! So is that it? she wondered suddenly. If it

were someone other than Cricket out there making love to my mother,

would that be better? Marcel visibly cringed at just thinking about

the phrase making love to my mother!

“I can’t believe my mother is doing this,” Marcel mumbled.

Why isn’t she in her room? Did she want me to find them?

Marcel tapped her pencil on the tablet as she looked at her

watch again. She had read every word in the newspaper already

and had posted all the daily sales for the week to the computer.

She had even called Carmen at home to tell her how successful

the business had been lately.

Trying to stay calm and keep busy, she made it a point not to

think too much. A while later as she made a list of addresses for

the estate sales she intended to check out during the week, Marcel

heard rustling and giggling in the hallway. Several minutes later,

there was a light knock on her door, and her mother came in

looking animated and disheveled. Roslin’s eyes sparkled and her

cheeks were flushed. Marcel thought she was absolutely radiant.

Leaning against the door, her hand still touching the knob

as she looked at Marcel, Roslin said, “You never told me. Or if

you did I never heard you.”

Marcel glared at her, still too shocked to think clearly. “I

never told you what?” she asked shortly.

Roslin closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “How good it

is. How incredible it can be!”

Calm Before The Storm 1

Marcel couldn’t believe they were having this conversation.

“I heard you two out there. I saw you.”

Roslin’s smile and euphoria slowly disappeared. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Marcel repeated. “That’s all you have to say?”

“You’re upset.”

“Of course I’m upset! I walked in on my mother having sex.

How would you feel?”

Roslin sat down in one of the chairs near Marcel’s desk. “I

see what you mean. I’m sorry, baby.”

“Five bedrooms in this house and where do I find you?”

Marcel’s anger and shock were so tightly wound together

that she still couldn’t think clearly. “And with Cricket,” she said.

“Cricket! Of all people!”

Roslin cocked her head and looked at her slowly. “Are you

upset because it was Cricket?”

Marcel was suddenly forced to stop and consider the question.

“That’s only part of it.”

“Talk to me. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Their voices were back to normal again, and Marcel no

longer had the urge to pace or express herself at a high volume.

“Three things,” Marcel said simply. “The first one being

that my mother has sex at all,” she admitted with a series of nods

and shrugs. This made Roslin laugh.

“Okay,” Roslin said. “I’ll give you that one. I was always

convinced that my parents only had sex once, so I understand

completely. What else?”

“It was just a shock. You and Cricket. You know how she

is.” “This has nothing to do with any of that,” Roslin said. “All

I know is that I like her and I like this new thing I’ve discovered

with her.”

Marcel noticed that her mother at least had the decency to

be embarrassed.

Roslin continued. “And I’m sorry that I showed bad

judgment by carrying on so in our living room. At the time it

was happening, I honestly forgot that you were here.”

Marcel nodded and accepted the apology, but she was still at

a loss as to how best to deal with her feelings about everything.

10 Peggy J. Herring

“I’m canceling my flight tomorrow,” Roslin said. “I can’t go

anywhere like this.”

Marcel began tapping her pencil against the tablet again, and

for the first time since all of this had happened, she got worried.

Nothing except bad weather ever affected her mother’s work

schedule. Business was business, and a flight cancellation right

now was indeed serious.

“So tell me what’s happening with you,” Marcel said. “How

are you feeling about everything?”

Roslin shook her head. “You mean about what happened

with Cricket?”

Marcel nodded.

“I’m. .I’m excited and giddy. Confused, surprised, happy,

and afraid. All of the above.”

Marcel asked her what she was afraid of.

“How good I feel. How happy I am.”

Cricket, Marcel thought. My mother’s involved with Cricket, for

crissakes! Cricket had the attention span of a gnat when it came

to relationships.

“Maybe you shouldn’t cancel your trip,” Marcel suggested.

“Getting away right now might be good for you.”

“I can’t work like this. I need to be focused.”

Marcel nodded and had to agree that losing fifty thousand

dollars or so due to poor concentration was an expensive way

to get one’s perspective back. “So what’s happening with you

two now? Are you dating? Exploring? Playing? What?” She still

couldn’t believe they were having this conversation.

Roslin shrugged. “I’m exploring. She’s playing.” As if hearing

herself for the first time, Roslin stopped and seemed to come to

her senses a little. “You’re right. Maybe I shouldn’t cancel my

flight tomorrow. I need to get back to what I know.”

“Sleep on it. Everything might be clearer in the morning.”

Marcel watched as her mother struggled with having to decide

what to do. Finally Roslin gave up and chose to go to bed.

“Will you be able to sleep tonight?” she asked as she kissed

Marcel on top of the head.

“The usual.”

“Then I’ll see you in the morning. And I’m sorry you had to

Calm Before The Storm 11

see all of that earlier. I’ll be more discreet in the future.”

The future, Marcel thought with a groan. So there will be more

of this in the future?

As the night dragged on, Marcel wondered briefly if she

would ever get sleepy again. She stayed busy researching

furniture pieces on the computer and checked out a few Web

sites she’d been hearing about. The more tired she became, the

less patience she had. Several times she had tried to call Cricket,

but the line was constantly busy. Marcel needed a change and

wanted to clear the air and her mind a bit. She found her keys

and drove to Cricket’s house to get a few answers, but only with

the understanding that she would return home without stopping

if Amanda’s car was there.

“Do you know what time it is?” Cricket said when she opened

her door. Cricket’s shorts and T-shirt told Marcel that she hadn’t

been to bed yet either, and Cricket had to be at work in a few hours.

“You’ve ruined my life,” Cricket informed her dramatically.

She went over to the phone and picked up the dangling receiver.

“I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow. Yes, I know it’s tomorrow

already. I can’t talk now. Good-bye.” Storming to the kitchen,

she poured herself some wine. Marcel followed her and was

willing to wait until Cricket calmed down a little before trying

to say anything.

“Amanda is on my case wanting an answer,” Cricket said,

“and Naomi won’t even talk to me now. What am I supposed to

do? I work with her. It’s very awkward.”

“You could start by dating one person at a time like most

normal people.”

Cricket set her wineglass down on the kitchen counter and

turned around. “Amanda wants us to get back together and forget

about what’s happened. I’m supposed to pretend that she never

slept with you, and then she’ll pretend that I never chased after

Naomi. It’s like we’re even or something.” Her voice had finally

lost its projecting ability. “And now I’m wondering if Amanda

didn’t sleep with you just to make me jealous.”

1 Peggy J. Herring

Bingo, Marcel thought.

“And Naomi is totally enthralled with you, which pisses me

off too,” Cricket continued. “Who the hell do you think you are?

Isn’t anything sacred to you?”

Marcel took a deep breath and glared at her. “At least I never

slept with your mother.”

“Don’t even start with me!”

“I’m here to do a lot more than that, kiddo.”

“It’s not what you think,” Cricket said. She picked up her

wineglass again and took a healthy gulp. “It’s not what you

think,” she repeated more calmly. “I’m in love with her, Marcel.

Ever since I was a kid I’ve been in love with her.”

Marcel couldn’t deny that there was some truth in that

statement. “Tell me what happened the day you kissed her.”

Cricket shook her head. “That whole day was very strange.

I had this dream about her,” she said quietly. “A very vivid, hot

dream. We were making love, and in my dream I kept thinking

that I should wake up, but I didn’t. It was so wonderful and real.

I’ve never had a dream like that before.

“So the next morning and all that day I couldn’t think about

anything else. And the really weird thing was that in the dream

your mother never discouraged any of my advances. So I kept

thinking about that and couldn’t get it out of my head. All day

long. Over and over. I couldn’t concentrate at work. I was sitting

through green lights in traffic. It got so bad that I went to see her

that next afternoon.” Cricket set her glass down again.

“So I get to your house and your mother and I are in the

living room and we’re talking about you and your retirement and

you and Amanda, and she’s being very nice to me like she always

is. I wasn’t getting any vibes from her, you know? At least not

the vibes I was looking for anyway. Then I got scared.” Cricket

slowly rubbed her arms as if she were cold.

“I got scared because I was afraid the dream was just that

—just a silly dream. So I stalled a little in hopes that something

would happen—a sign or something. Something! But nothing

happened. Then it was time for me to go. She walks me to the

front door and I’m still waiting for something to happen, and

then I realize that it’s all up to me . I’m the one who has to get

Calm Before The Storm 1

things going. I’m the one who has to make something happen.”

Cricket smiled a little at the memory.

“So I stopped thinking so much and on impulse I leaned over

and kissed her.” Cricket turned her head and looked at Marcel.

“And she opened her mouth.” Cricket closed her eyes and visibly

trembled at what was for her a very powerful memory. “And

when her tongue touched mine, I thought I would faint, Marcel.

I thought I would fucking faint.”

Marcel chuckled, but had no choice but to believe her.

Cricket’s reaction was too real to have been made up.

“Then I ran out the door and jumped in my car and went

directly to see you. I don’t remember driving there or parking

my car.” Cricket cleared her throat and then leaned her head

back and closed her eyes. “I’m in love with her. I’ve always been

in love with her.”

“Then what’s going on with Amanda? And why are you still

playing footsie with Naomi?”

“It’s over with Amanda. I just haven’t told her yet.” She

moved her shoulders and then rubbed the back of her neck.

“That was Amanda on the phone. She still wants me to move

in with her, and I don’t know how to tell her that I can’t.” She

drained her wineglass and filled it with water from the tap. “But

I’m thoroughly pissed at you for sleeping with her. Amanda was

still mine when you did that. Some friend you are. And not to

mention the way you’ve snatched Naomi right out from under

me, so to speak. I liked her too for a while there, but did that

make a difference to you?”

“When did you start taking up this bad habit of juggling all

these women at one time?”

“I’m in the process of changing my ways.”

“Sure you are. My mother’s at home thinking you’re the

best thing since Post Toasties and you’re here on the phone

negotiating living arrangements with Amanda.” Marcel looked

at her. She wanted no doubt or misunderstanding between them.

“Until you get it more together, stay away from my mother.”

Cricket’s doorbell rang, and they both jumped at the same

time before glancing at their watches. It was two-thirty in the

morning! Marcel was ready to leave; she had made her point

1 Peggy J. Herring

and felt certain that she had given Cricket a few things to think

about already.

Marcel found her keys in her pocket and waited for Cricket

to answer the door. As Marcel saw her mother standing there in

the dim light of the porch, she was too surprised to say anything.

But the moment Cricket opened her arms and kissed Roslin, that

was all it took for Marcel to see everything differently. In her

mind Cricket was no longer just her best friend. Cricket Lomax

had become her mother’s lover.

Calm Before The Storm 1

Chapter FiFteen

Thursday morning Marcel returned to the shop after

meeting with her lawyer again. It was a relief to hear that General

Wheatly hadn’t dropped his lawsuit yet. That meant the visitors

from New York were gone and nothing dreadful had happened

to anyone. But Marcel was fuming at the General’s misguided

revenge. She had given her lawyer permission to countersue the

Wheatlys for libel and slander if the General continued with

his threat to sue her for alienation of affection. As Marcel tried

to explain all of this to Carmen later that morning, Marcel still

failed to see any humor in the situation.

“Come on,” Carmen chided. “Lighten up.”

“It’s all lies!” Marcel said in exasperation. “Why should I put

up with this? Why should I let him do this to me when what he’s

accusing me of isn’t true?”

1 Peggy J. Herring

“Yeah, I know. You’re right. Maybe we need to find out where

Jordan is staying and take a few snapshots of her in action.”

“You sound like my mother.”

“Your mother makes sense sometimes.” Carmen leaned

against the counter and shrugged. “So what’s the deal?” she asked.

“Are you going back in the closet until this thing blows over?”

Marcel raised an eyebrow at the question.

“Because if you are,” Carmen continued, “you need to take

that rainbow sticker off your car.”

Her laughter didn’t do much to put Marcel in a better mood.

“I’m glad you find this so amusing,” Marcel said. “My life’s in the

toilet, and all you can do is laugh.”

“I’ll say it again. You should let your mother handle this.

She’s got an interesting way with people. General Wheatly

wouldn’t know what hit him.”

“And that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

Hours later the door to the shop dinged open and Marcel

looked up and smiled when she saw Naomi. Seeing her again

made Marcel feel warm inside. Once again she tried to figure

out what she found so attractive about her, and the word charisma

popped in her head once more. It was nothing really tangible,

but very effective just the same.

Naomi was wearing black slacks and a white shirt. A black

bolo tie set off the outfit perfectly and was a nice complement to

her dark curly hair. Being one of those women who could make

flannel look feminine, Naomi was elegant and unpretentious, a

combination that Marcel found quite sexy.

“I was wondering if you were free for lunch,” Naomi said. “I

have to be back at work in a little over an hour, but I thought I’d

give it a shot.”

Marcel glanced at her watch. She hadn’t realized how late it

was already. She told Carmen where she was going and followed

Naomi to the coffee shop down the street. Once they were seated,

Naomi said, “I thought I’d have better luck if I just appeared

instead of trying to talk you into it on the phone.”

Calm Before The Storm 1

“You think it’s that difficult to get me somewhere?”

With an impish grin, Naomi rearranged her silverware on

the napkin. “You’re kidding, right?”

The waitress came and took their orders. Marcel studied

Naomi more closely and was drawn to her persistence as well as

to the hint of shyness she saw.

“Getting your attention has been one of life’s biggest

challenges for me,” Naomi said. “You’re always so busy, and

then if by chance I’m in a position to talk to you, we’re usually

surrounded by other people.”

Marcel laced her fingers together on the table and met

Naomi’s sparkling eyes. “You have my complete attention now.”

Naomi grinned and held the look. “Great. And here I am at

a total loss for words.”

They laughed for a moment, and Marcel realized how relaxed

she felt.

“Will you have dinner with me tonight?” Naomi asked. “I’ve

got a rack of lamb waiting for a chance to show off my cooking

skills.”

“Two meals in a row together?”

“Okay, then tomorrow night.”

“I’m teasing you,” Marcel said, delighted by the invitation.

“Tonight is fine. Unless you’ve changed your mind already.”

“Not a chance.”

Lunch went by quickly. When Marcel returned to the

shop, Carmen, who was with a customer, managed to give her a

questioning look across the room. After they helped load a table

into the back of a pickup, Carmen let her know that Amanda

had called. Marcel dropped Amanda’s message in the trash can

without even reading it.

“Okay. What’s going on now? Amanda, Naomi, Jordan. Is that

everyone? I can’t keep the names straight anymore. Oh yes. And

Heidi Cooper, but I haven’t seen her around here much lately.”

“Do you intentionally add Jordan’s name to that list just to

piss me off, or is it an oversight?”

“It’s an oversight,” Carmen said sheepishly. “I see that lunch

with Naomi made you cranky.”

“Not at all. I’ve got you to thank for that.”

1 Peggy J. Herring

After work Marcel went home and got ready for her dinner

date with Naomi. Roslin wasn’t home and hadn’t left any indication

that she’d been there at all since she had gone to Cricket’s house

the night before. Marcel was still having a little trouble imagining

those two together, but the kiss in Cricket’s doorway that she

had witnessed the night before had been anything but platonic.

As Marcel had let herself out of Cricket’s house last night, she’d

gotten a healthy glimpse of where things were headed for them

and had resigned herself to the fact that her mother was having

a lesbian affair with a woman her daughter’s age.

She decided to check out her mother’s recently acquired

wine cellar in the hope of finding something suitable for the

evening at Naomi’s. Marcel noticed that her mother had marked

her favorite wines with notes to remind her which ones to drink

first. Her mother had won the collection from a local car dealer

after refusing to take another new car from him at the end of

a poker game. His reluctance to part with his wine collection,

however, made Roslin want it even that much more.

There were times when Roslin and her friends played for

“things” such as art, uncirculated coins, vacation homes, land, or

buildings instead of money. With the proper paperwork passed

back and forth, depending on one’s luck at the table, transactions

were settled at the end of each evening. There were several items

Roslin would never gamble with, and others that she had no

problem losing.

Marcel switched the light on in the wine cellar and curled

her nose at the mustiness in the small room. Most wine bottles

had a yellow Post-it attached, and Marcel enjoyed reading what

her mother had written—“A tad sweet, my favorite!” “Good with

anything!” “So-so.” “Probably good with fish.”

Marcel picked up another bottle with a note that said, “Gave

me a hangover! Serve only to someone I don’t like!” Marcel

chuckled and put that bottle back. She didn’t find anything that

directly addressed lamb, so she selected her mother’s favorite.

Just before leaving, Marcel found the address that Naomi

Calm Before The Storm 1

had written down for her; she was vaguely familiar with the area.

Feeling a bit carefree and adventurous, she drove the Miata with

the top down. Having hair that took no more than a few cleverly

placed tosses to get it back into shape, Marcel made it a point not

to worry or to think about anything. If the General sued her,

then so be it. If her business collapsed, then it wasn’t meant to

be. If her mother and Cricket became devoted lovers, then why

should she begrudge them their happiness? Marcel felt relaxed

and unaffected. The four hours of sleep she’d gotten the night

before would probably be the most she’d get for several days to

come, and she still felt rested and rejuvenated because of it.

As she sped down the busy streets of San Antonio, Marcel

kept remembering Naomi’s laughter and that shock of dark curly

hair. She had gotten the impression on several occasions that

Naomi was a little shy and maybe a bit intimidated by her, but

Marcel also saw the effort Naomi was making to overcome that.

It was nice being with someone whose only agenda was finding

ways to ask her out. Being pursued by someone she was attracted

to was very nice and a different experience than what she was

accustomed to.

She recognized Naomi’s car in the driveway and parked

behind it. After running her fingers through her hair, Marcel

got the bottle of wine and wasn’t a bit surprised by how much she

was looking forward to this.

“Any trouble finding me?” Naomi asked when she answered

the door.

Marcel handed the wine to her. “I found the place right away.

Thanks.” She took a deep breath and almost swooned. “It smells

so-o-o good in here.” She hadn’t realized how hungry she was.

“Dinner should be ready in about fifteen minutes.” Naomi

led the way to the living room where an Enya CD was playing

softly on the stereo. “Can I get you something to drink? I have

a nice assortment of decaffeinated beverages and some decaf

coffee I can put on. Or there’s always wine.” Naomi smiled and

added, “Is it just me, or do I sound like a flight attendant?”

“It’s just you,” Marcel informed her with a laugh. She

remembered the caffeine thing, Marcel thought. As Marcel

processed that, she studied Naomi and liked what she saw. White

10 Peggy J. Herring

cotton shorts, white sandals, and a gray V-neck pullover. There

was kindness in her eyes, and a sense of longing that Marcel felt

drawn to. I’ve seen that look before, she thought. And I liked it then,

too. “So what will it be?” Naomi asked. “Wine? Or something

unleaded? I have caffeine-free drinks that are diet or—”

“I’ll take a soft drink that doesn’t have caffeine. It doesn’t

matter what kind.” She laughed. “My mother calls any caffeine-

free diet drink a Why Bother? She complains about them, but

then that’s all she keeps in the house.”

“One Why Bother? coming up.”

Naomi went to the kitchen with the wine bottle and returned

with two glasses of unleaded Diet Coke. “Your mother is a

delightful woman, and she’s very proud of you.”

Marcel nodded. “I’m proud of her too.”

“I understand she’s a gambler. That alone makes her

incredibly interesting. What does your father do?”

“My father died when I was young. He was a racecar driver.

Very good at it. A popular figure in his country many years ago.”

Marcel set her drink down on a coaster on the coffee table as she

remembered the stories her mother used to tell her about him.

She still knew him through a child’s eyes and often wondered

what kind of man he had really been.

“You said ‘in his country.’ He wasn’t an American?”

“He was French. I still have relatives in Paris.”

“Hmm. Do you keep in touch with them?”

“My mother and I go back every two or three years to visit.

We were last there in November. When I was a kid, I’d spend

part of my summer there with my grandparents and my cousins.

They visit us here sometimes too. My grandfather loves this one

dude ranch in the Hill Country.” Marcel laughed at the memory.

“He likes being a cowboy in Texas.”

After a moment, Naomi announced that dinner was ready.

Marcel followed her to the kitchen and helped toss the salad.

The table was already set with fine china, candles, and a white

lace tablecloth.

Naomi brought out a platter with the rack of lamb surrounded

by roasted potatoes, carrots, and small onions swimming in

Calm Before The Storm 11

gravy that caught Marcel’s attention. Asparagus tips, a big salad,

and homemade sourdough bread rounded out the menu.

Naomi handed over a corkscrew and the wine that Marcel

had brought. “You can be in charge of this.”

“Everything looks fabulous, and smells even better,” Marcel

said. She poured the wine and hoped her mother’s Post-it on the

bottle was accurate.

“I remember the first time I saw you,” Naomi said as she

sat down at the table. “That night we played miniature golf and

Cricket’s golf ball went sailing across the lagoon. I remember

thinking how easily you took control of things, and how surprised

I was to hear you speaking German to the man who returned the

ball.”“And I remember Cricket flirting with you all evening.”

“Well. .yes. She knew I was nervous about meeting you.”

Marcel laughed. “Sure you were.”

“Getting back to my point,” Naomi said as she passed the

bowl of salad, “my grandparents fled Germany just before the

war, so hearing German when I was growing up was a huge

childhood memory for me. I miss it sometimes. I remembered

flashes of those times when I heard you speaking to that man.”

Marcel said a few words in German, and Naomi smiled

and handed the salzstreuer— the salt “sprinkler”—to her as

requested.

They spent the next two hours asking each other questions

about their families, work, and ex-lovers. Naomi had just come

out to her parents and siblings during the last year and hadn’t

been back to New Jersey to see them since then.

“What made you tell them?” Marcel asked from her

comfortable position in the recliner. Naomi was stretched out

on the sofa; they both had a little buzz from the wine.

“I’m forty years old,” Naomi said. “Nice Jewish girls are all

married by now. My family was reaching the point of desperation,

and they kept trying to fix me up whenever I went home to see

them.”

1 Peggy J. Herring

They both laughed, and Naomi shook her head. Marcel liked

the way her curls framed her face, and wondered briefly what it

would feel like to touch them.

“My father would bring these nice young men home with

him whenever I went for a visit,” Naomi said. “I’m thinking,

‘ Oy. Another cousin I haven’t seen in years,’ and then the next

thing I know I’m meeting this guy’s parents who are not my aunt

and uncle. And the same thing would happen with my brothers.

They’d bring their friends over to meet me, and all I could think

to say to them was, ‘So. Do you have any unmarried sisters my

age?’ After a while it just seemed easier to tell them.”

Smiling, Marcel asked when her next visit to New Jersey

would be.

“I’m waiting for things to settle down a little,” Naomi said

with a shrug. “Ten, fifteen years maybe.” Her light laughter made

Marcel chuckle, and Marcel admitted to herself once again how

much she liked this woman.

Glancing at her watch, Marcel couldn’t believe how late

it was already. “Wow,” she said and got the recliner into a less

comfortable position. “How’d it get to be so late? I’m sure you

have to work tomorrow too.”

They were both standing now, officially signaling the end of

the evening. Marcel picked up her empty wineglass and got her

keys off the coffee table. She took her glass to the kitchen and

said, “The whole evening was great. You’re an excellent cook, by

the way. Or did I mention that already?”

They were by the front door now, and Marcel found herself

reluctant to leave.

“Lamb stew tomorrow night if you’re interested,” Naomi

said.Once again Marcel could see the uncertainty in Naomi’s

eyes. That shyness Marcel remembered from earlier was back

again, and it made Marcel want to tell her about having a good

time. .that she liked being with her. .that everything was okay. .

that she couldn’t imagine walking out that door without kissing

her. But instead Marcel quietly said, “Lamb stew it is then.”

And suddenly she didn’t want to leave at all. Going out that

door would be impossible at that very moment, and she held her

Calm Before The Storm 1

breath as Naomi slowly came toward her and touched Marcel’s

cheek with the back of her hand.

Marcel leaned in to kiss her, and the soft, electrifying

connection eased into a slow pulsating need that made her want

more. Naomi’s touch was no longer hesitant or uncertain as she

moved one hand to the back of Marcel’s head.

There was no longer a question about what would happen

next. They would make love before the night was over, and

Marcel relayed this desire with a deep kiss. Again and again

they kissed this way, and Marcel inhaled the intoxicating scent

of Naomi’s perfume. She loved the taste of wine on her lips, and

when Naomi took Marcel’s tongue into her mouth, Marcel’s soft

moan emphasized how much they both wanted this.

After what seemed like only a few minutes, Naomi pulled

away and took Marcel by the hand, leading her down a hall to

a bedroom. Once they were there, the momentum changed,

and Naomi was like a finely tuned machine that moved with

purpose and precision. She removed Marcel’s clothes as though

each button’s undoing had been choreographed. There was no

fumbling or frustration at the amount of time it took, and with

each new bit of Marcel’s body that was revealed and exposed,

Naomi’s warm mouth was there to welcome it.

Marcel was trembling. She wasn’t sure what she wanted

more—to kiss her again or be kissed by her again. Either way

Marcel had to have those exquisite lips once more, had to lose

herself in this woman’s touch.

Nude and radiant, Naomi threw the covers back and slipped

into bed. She held her hand out and pulled Marcel down to her. As

Naomi wrapped her arms around her, Marcel could feel herself

melting into the warmth and softness of Naomi’s body. Marcel

kissed her over and over again and crushed those marvelous curls

with both hands as Naomi rolled on top of her.

No words were spoken; none had to be. Marcel saw the desire

in Naomi’s eyes and knew it matched her own. Naomi leaned

down and touched her tongue to a nipple and asked Marcel if her

breasts were tender.

“No,” Marcel said. She wanted more, more of whatever it

was that Naomi was doing.

Calm Before The Storm 1

Chapter Sixteen

Marcel drifted as Naomi lay in her arms. Naomi’s tongue

lightly traced Marcel’s left nipple, and occasionally she would take

it between her lips and suck ever so slightly. An electric current

scampered through Marcel’s body each time Naomi did that.

Marcel felt so different from the way she usually did after

making love. The tension that usually kept her awake was absent.

And now here she was in Naomi’s bed, holding Naomi in her

arms, feeling aroused all over again by those soft lips teasing

her nipples. Naomi had already made love to her once and had

caused Marcel’s toes to curl in a way she hadn’t experienced

before. And then when Marcel had rolled Naomi over on her

back, Marcel discovered how much Naomi liked having her on

top, and a nice rocking-grinding dance developed before they

finally came together in a burst of sensation.

1 Peggy J. Herring

“Can I touch you again?” Naomi whispered a while later. Her

lips returned to Marcel’s nipple, and she didn’t wait for a reply as

her hand moved down Marcel’s body. The featherlike stroking

began, and Marcel forgot where she was, who she was, what she

was doing, or what was being done to her. There was only the

drifting and a semiconscious floating as Naomi continued playing

with her and gently opening her up for further exploration.

“Is this okay?” Naomi asked softly.

“Yes,” Marcel replied in a breathy whisper. “God, yes.”

Naomi propped herself up on an elbow but kept her fingers

busy with a slow, steady circling motion. “The first night I saw you

I imagined doing this to you.” She leaned closer and traced the

tip of her tongue lightly around Marcel’s ear. Her tongue lightly

darted along the outside of Marcel’s earlobe before she said, “I

want to taste you, baby. Right now. Would that be okay?”

Marcel moaned and felt her body tremble.

“I want my mouth on you,” Naomi whispered. “Right here.

Right now.”

“Yes,” Marcel said, as her breathing became ragged.

“I’ll make long, slow strokes with my tongue,” Naomi said

softly. “And then I’ll take your clit in my mouth like this,” she

whispered just before sucking Marcel’s earlobe into her warm,

wet mouth. Marcel was seconds away from coming and didn’t

want anything to stop what was happening. She turned her head

and found Naomi’s mouth and kissed her deeply as her body

shuddered with orgasm. Naomi’s fingers seemed to know just the

right amount of pressure Marcel needed then, and she seemed to

know when to stop and hold her there. Marcel was exhausted but

smiling; she felt so loved at that moment that she thought she

might cry. Marcel hugged her, and Naomi covered Marcel’s face

with tiny kisses.

“But darling,” Naomi said as Marcel kissed her again on the

lips. “You came before I got there.”

“That was incredible,” Marcel managed to say.

Naomi slowly removed her fingers and caressed the inside of

Marcel’s thigh. “I want your body to know me and remember me.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Marcel said dreamily. “It’s

thanking you right now as we speak.”

Calm Before The Storm 1

Marcel didn’t know when the touching eventually stopped.

All she remembered was drifting again and feeling safe and

content. A while later, a loud noise made her turn over once, but

other than that, she didn’t remember anything else.

“Hey, you,” Naomi whispered as she eased down on the

side of the bed. Marcel liked the way Naomi kissed her on the

forehead, and she tried opening her eyes.

“What time is it?” Marcel asked sleepily before focusing on

Naomi. “Why are you dressed?”

Naomi had on a red-and-yellow flower-print skirt and a

yellow cotton blouse. “I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

“What time is it?”

“Seven,” Naomi said as she briefly swept wayward hair from

Marcel’s brow. “And I need to get to work.”

“Seven in the morning?” Marcel said incredulously. She sat up

in bed and noticed for the first time that it was daylight outside.

Naomi laughed. “Yes. Seven in the morning. And if I don’t

leave right now I’ll be late.” She leaned over and picked up a key

from the nightstand. “Keep this and lock up if you leave. But stay

as long as you want.”

Their eyes met, and Naomi leaned over and kissed her. “As

long as you want,” she whispered against Marcel’s lips.

Marcel felt the beginnings of arousal and kissed her again,

only this time she touched Naomi’s face and hair.

“Will you come over for dinner tonight?” Naomi whispered

breathlessly.

“Will I get more of this?” Marcel asked as she kissed her

throat.

“I can guarantee it.”

“Then I’ll be here.”

“Are you okay?” Carmen asked. “You look different, and I’m

getting some strange vibes from you.”

1 Peggy J. Herring

“I got nine hours of sleep last night.”

“Nine? Nine hours in a row?”

“In a row. I’m not sure I’ve had nine hours all month. And

I’ve never had nine in a row without anesthesia.”

As Marcel stayed busy with customers that morning, she

kept remembering the way Naomi’s body felt against hers, the

way Naomi seemed to know how to touch her. It had been an

incredible night, and Marcel was still processing most of it.

Maybe she drugged me, Marcel thought with a laugh. Or maybe

lamb makes me sleepy. Instead of counting sheep to go to sleep, maybe I

have to eat them instead.

Later that morning, Roslin called to check on her. “Where

were you last night? You didn’t come home!”

“I was doing the same thing you were doing the night

before.”

“Oh.” Roslin’s laughter made Marcel laugh too. “I bet I had

more fun!”

“You forget that I’m the one who taught Cricket everything

she knows,” Marcel said. Her mother’s silence made Marcel laugh

all over again. “Oh, by the way,” Marcel added, “I probably won’t

be home tonight either.”

“That makes two of us.”

A while later when Naomi arrived with lunch for the three

of them, Marcel was so happy to see her that it was all she could

do to keep from scooping her up and kissing her right there in

the showroom. Marcel took care of the two customers in the

shop while Carmen and Naomi chatted and unpacked the feast

that Naomi had brought. The smell of chicken salad with alfalfa

sprouts on thick homemade bread, as well as lemon-potato soup

filled the showroom and even made the customers inquire where

they could get the exact same thing.

As soon as the customers were gone, Carmen suggested that

Calm Before The Storm 1

Marcel and Naomi have their lunch in Marcel’s office while she

took care of the store.

“But we’ve got everything fixed so nicely here,” Naomi said,

indicating the paper napkins they were using as plates.

Carmen carefully toted a sandwich and a cup of soup into

Marcel’s office and set it on the desk. Marcel looked at her with

a raised eyebrow, but Carmen just nodded toward the other

sandwich and soup cup and said, “Your office.”

Naomi picked up the sandwich and Marcel took the soup, and

they went into Marcel’s office like two scolded children. Carmen

closed the door, and Marcel immediately felt nervous. The small

bed was right there and couldn’t have been more obvious had

there been neon lights strung around it.

As Marcel stood there holding the warm container of

soup, Naomi took it from her and set it on the desk. She then

kissed her with such passion that Marcel felt tingly all over. She

remembered Naomi’s perfume from the night before and earlier

that morning; she wanted her touch, her kisses, her boundless

energy and enthusiasm.

Before they got to the bed, Marcel’s shirt was open and

her bra undone. Had there been an Olympic event in ridding

someone of their clothing, Naomi Shapiro would have been a

gold medalist.

“You feel so good,” Naomi whispered and then kissed her

again before moving down to concentrate on Marcel’s breasts.

“So good.”

Thank you, dear mother, for insisting on putting this bed in here,

Marcel thought fleetingly as she fumbled with the buttons on

Naomi’s blouse. Otherwise I’d be doing this on my desk with chicken

salad stuck to my butt.

Marcel kissed her and felt a surge of pleasure as Naomi’s tongue

touched hers. There was definitely something to be said for making

love with one’s clothes on because they were both agonizingly

desperate for this. Marcel managed to get her hand under Naomi’s

skirt, over and into pantyhose and lacy undies. Naomi’s sudden

intake of breath followed by a long heavy sigh changed their

direction for a moment. Naomi’s undulating hips set the pace, and

their kisses became deep and hungry all over again.

10 Peggy J. Herring

When Naomi finally came with a shudder and a delicious

moan, Marcel kept her fingers inside of her until Naomi had

stopped moving. Marcel kissed her playfully on the nose and

cheek, and coaxed a drowsy smile from her. Naomi opened her

eyes and seemed to have trouble focusing, but that contented

expression Marcel saw made her deliriously happy.

“So good,” Naomi whispered as she softly kissed Marcel

on the lips. Before Marcel knew what was happening, however,

Naomi was on top of her, nudging loose, opened clothing out of

the way. The rustling of Naomi’s skirt and the faint creaking of

the bed as they moved helped fuel this raging fire inside of her.

Marcel loved the way Naomi teased her with her mouth, the

way she took such care in arousing her. Down she went, farther

and farther, kissing Marcel’s breasts and stomach. Marcel’s pants

were unfastened and the zipper eased down. The bed was too

small to make this a comfortable adventure for either of them,

and Marcel knew that Naomi had to go back to work.

“Come here,” Marcel said, and touched Naomi’s head.

Naomi reluctantly stopped what she was doing as Marcel tugged

on her arm and then kissed her as they lay side by side on the

small bed.

Naomi was not to be denied, and took control of the kiss,

of Marcel’s aching body as well as her thumping heart. Marcel

felt wild and insatiable as the kiss deepened. Naomi seemed

hungry for her, ravenous in many respects, as her hands sought

familiar places that secretly begged for attention. Marcel’s body

screamed for joy when Naomi finally touched her. There was no

pretense about how much Marcel wanted this, and Naomi rose

to the occasion with a steady stroking.

“You’re so wet,” Naomi whispered. “God, you’re so wet.”

A few seconds later, Marcel was already close to the edge

when Naomi’s tongue touched her left nipple. Marcel came with

such intensity that she forgot to breathe as she grabbed Naomi

and pulled her close.

When Marcel finally stopped trembling, she was exhausted.

Naomi snuggled into her arms and gently kissed her cheek, but

kept her fingers inside of Marcel. The light feathery strokes

began a bit later, and Marcel remembered how soothing and

Calm Before The Storm 11

hypnotic that had been the night before. She drifted to sleep and

felt as if she had surrendered to a higher power. All her defenses

were down; Marcel was weak and helpless.

After what seemed like only minutes, Naomi kissed her

gently on the lips and whispered, “I need to get back to work,

baby.”

Marcel tried to open her eyes, but they wouldn’t function

right. She felt Naomi ease away from her and get up from the

bed, but Marcel’s limbs were heavy. Whatever Naomi was saying

didn’t make any sense to her.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Naomi whispered, and then kissed her

cheek.

“Wait,” Marcel mumbled as she reached for her. “You’re

leaving?”

“I have to get back to work. I’m teaching a class in twenty

minutes.”

“Oh.”

Naomi chuckled. “Go back to sleep. I’ll see you tonight.”

Marcel vaguely heard the door open and then close again.

Okay, she thought as she burrowed deeper into the pillow. Jeez. .

okay. .okay. . so. .so it’s definitely not the lamb.

After work Marcel went home, took a shower, and changed

clothes. Roslin was in the living room on the phone when

Marcel came back downstairs. She still couldn’t believe what

had happened to her that day. Marcel had slept most of the

afternoon, and she hadn’t waked up until an hour before closing

time. On her desk in her office, she had found two cups of stone-

cold potato soup and a chicken salad sandwich on stale bread.

When she had finally come out of her office in a groggy state,

she remembered how Carmen’s knowing grin had managed to

embarrass her.

“There you are,” Roslin said as Marcel came into the living

room. “Where are you off to?”

“I have a date,” Marcel said, and then smiled as she thought

about adding, with a woman who makes me sleepy.

1 Peggy J. Herring

The doorbell rang, and Marcel went to answer it. A well-

dressed man in a suit, tie, and Tom Landry hat was there, asking

for her by name. When Marcel identified herself, the man served

her with the subpoena.

“What now?” Roslin asked as she peered over Marcel’s

shoulder to get a better look at the document. “Didn’t I tell you

to let me handle it?”

Marcel went to the phone and called her lawyer; she gave

the word to draw up the paperwork to sue the Wheatlys for libel

and slander.

“I’m starving,” Marcel said as she sat down at the table in

Naomi’s dining room. With a wink she added, “I didn’t eat

lunch, you know.”

“Well, you certainly had the opportunity,” Naomi said with

a grin.

It was already late, but hunger and the promise of lamb stew

got them up a few hours later, and Marcel felt rested and content.

She liked Naomi’s eagerness to please, as well as her attention to

detail in everything she did.

As Marcel dipped out a bowl of stew, she filled Naomi in on

the general’s lawsuit, the subpoena, and the possibility of some

adverse publicity in the future.

“How adverse is adverse?” Naomi asked.

“I don’t really know yet. Newspapers seem to like this sort

of thing, and since there’s a lesbian angle, it could get ugly very

quickly.”

Naomi sat back in her chair and looked at Marcel with a

worried expression before saying, “I can’t be out, you know.”

Marcel nodded as the realization of what was taking place

firmly smacked her up beside the head. Marcel understood

better than most the need to keep one’s sexual preference a

private matter. She had been doing it her whole life, and now it

was so ironic that she, Marcel Robicheaux, was the one bringing

this threat into someone else’s life. She and Cricket had often

discussed the similar situations of gay teachers and gay soldiers.

Calm Before The Storm 1

The results were the same if their true sexual orientation were

ever discovered.

“Newspapers,” Naomi said.

“Possibly even tabloids,” Marcel added in a devastated

whisper. Her lawyer had informed her of all the possibilities on

the phone earlier, and it had sent her mother into a babbling rage

of I-told-you-so’s. As Marcel poked at her steaming lamb stew,

she noticed that Naomi was very quiet.

“Tabloids,” Naomi finally said.

“Reporters, TV cameras, photographers,” Marcel added

slowly. She put her fork down and saw the uncertainty and fear in

Naomi’s eyes. It matched what Marcel was feeling in her heart.

“I can’t be out,” Naomi said again.

“I understand that.” Marcel also understood what was being

left unsaid between them right then. Naomi was turning pale

and seemed to be in shock. Marcel moved her chair back and

stood up. “I seem to have underestimated the impact this would

have on things. I’m so very, very sorry.”

She went into the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the

bed. How can this be happening to me now, she thought. I finally get

out of the Army unscathed, but this gay curse still follows me wherever

I go. But instead of hurting me, it can end up hurting someone I love.

As she was finishing getting dressed, Naomi came into the

bedroom.

“What are we going to do?” Naomi asked quietly as she

eased down on the bed beside her.

“We aren’t going to do anything,” Marcel said simply. “I’m

going to countersue and sell antiques.” She was close to tears,

but she willed herself not to cry as she tied her shoes. Shuddering

at the injustice of it all, she wondered why it hadn’t occurred to

her before that this would be a problem for her new lover who

just so happened to be a teacher. It had been so easy to assume

that retirement would save her from the witch hunts and the

homophobic masses. Marcel realized now that she had failed to

see how her life and her actions affected others.

“Please,” Naomi said, as she nudged Marcel back on the bed.

She slowly crawled on top of her and straddled her body, making

that roller-coaster feeling tumble through Marcel’s psyche. “Let

1 Peggy J. Herring

me ask the same question a different way this time,” Naomi

whispered as she ran a finger along Marcel’s cheek and down her

chin. “What are we going to do about this, baby?” The delicate

finger continued down Marcel’s chin and over the pulse in her

throat, lingering at the top of her breasts. “I can’t be out,” Naomi

whispered, “but I won’t give you up. So what’s our plan?”

Her long, nimble fingers deftly unbuttoned Marcel’s shirt

again, and Naomi cupped her breast as she leaned down to kiss

her. “I won’t give you up,” she whispered.

“That might be our only option for a while,” Marcel said.

“You can’t be out, and my name and face could become the

object of a feeding frenzy.”

“We’re resourceful women,” Naomi said. “That can’t be the

only answer. I won’t let it be the only answer.”

A slow session of kissing and touching began, and before long

their clothes were twisted and bunched up all around their hot,

writhing bodies. Marcel could tell that Naomi was also enjoying

the pace, but they eventually wanted more and unceremoniously

shed their clothes.

“No way am I giving you up,” Naomi said a bit more firmly

as she rolled over and pulled Marcel on top of her. “That’s out of

the question. Totally impossible.”

“Then think about us not seeing each other until this thing

blows over.”

As Naomi kissed her, butterflies fluttered through Marcel’s

stomach.

“But later,” Marcel whispered. “Let’s think about it later.”

Calm Before The Storm 1

Chapter Seventeen

As Marcel drove home from work Wednesday afternoon, the

dark sky and distant thunder that had persistently teased them

was the only thing cheering her up. She and Naomi had decided

not to see each other again until some of the lawsuit trauma was

over with, and the compromise was difficult for them. It had

only been three days since they were last together, but it seemed

much longer. At one point on Sunday afternoon, Naomi had

told her that she no longer cared about the publicity or whatever

fallout would result from their being together.

“You’re the only thing that matters to me,” Naomi had said

as they lain in bed Sunday afternoon.

Marcel shook her head. “If this thing goes the way I’m

thinking it could, you’ll be glad I’m nowhere near you when

it happens. You could lose your job.” Marcel kissed her on the

1 Peggy J. Herring

end of the nose. “That’s not exactly the best way to start a new

relationship.”

Naomi rubbed the inside of Marcel’s bare thigh and slowly

brought her hand up until Marcel began to purr. “No matter what

happens, lover,” Naomi whispered, “I’ll be with you through all

of it, okay? One way or another.”

Once the light stroking began, Marcel had trouble thinking

clearly, but afterward she had a chance to address her misgivings

again as they drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms.

“We’ll see how things go with the countersuit,” Marcel

mumbled. She nuzzled into Naomi’s sweet-smelling neck and

felt the warm flow of drowsiness begin to take over.

“I’m not giving you up,” Naomi said as she kissed the side of

Marcel’s head.

“We can be in touch by phone. Once a day,” Marcel said. “I

can’t be worried about the Wheatly thing, my business being

ruined, and your career and future getting trounced on.” With

her eyes closed now, the feel of Naomi’s soft, warm body next

to hers was more relaxing than that kelp concoction Carmen

always made her drink.

“Sorry, baby, but one phone call a day just won’t cut it for

me.”Marcel remembered smiling then and nuzzling deeper into

Naomi’s body. The next morning, she was able to talk her into

taking a break for a few days to see what would happen with the

suit that she had filed against the Wheatlys.

“The guy sounds like an idiot,” Naomi said. “Isn’t he worried

about how this looks for him?”

Marcel shrugged. “My lawsuit just might be the thing to

wake him up a little.” She put her shoes on and leaned back on

the bed to watch Naomi finish dressing for work.

“Keep looking at me like that and we’ll both be late,” Naomi

warned as their eyes met in the mirror over the dresser. She

worked a little mousse into her hair and then put on earrings.

“I’ll call you tonight,” Marcel said. The thought of not seeing

her for a while was already depressing.

“You’re really serious about this separation thing,” Naomi

said.

Calm Before The Storm 1

Marcel nodded slowly. “If a newspaper outs you, it’s like

losing your virginity. You can’t take it back.” She got up from the

bed and put her arms around her. In doing so, Marcel instantly

wondered where she would find the strength to stay away from

her. “Don’t think for a minute that this is easy for me.”

“I know,” Naomi said. “You have enough to worry about

without adding me to the list, but how can I make you understand

that I’d like to be more than just a thing on a list?” She put her

arms around Marcel’s neck. “Instead of me being something you

have to take care of, maybe I’m the one who can finally take care

of you.”

Marcel thought about that for a moment; the look on her

face made Naomi laugh and kiss her lightly on the lips.

“Surely someone has offered to take care of you before,”

Naomi said.

“Uh.. maybe. Uncle Sam did.”

With a nice rub on her back, Naomi smiled and said, “Trust

me, baby. I’ll do a much better job.”

And now it was three days later and Marcel had regretted

their one-phone-call arrangement many times over already,

but in Marcel’s mind, the uncertainty of where this “Wheatly

thing” was headed made their precautions even that much more

important. She had no problem taking the Wheatlys down with

her, but there was no way she was going to hurt anyone else

over this nonsense. And the more she thought about Jordan and

her lies, the angrier Marcel became. She had almost convinced

herself that she had made a mistake by not letting her mother

handle things. Seeing the General in cement combat boots—

and maybe Jordan, too—was sounding more and more like a

good idea.

Marcel met her mother coming out of the house, and she felt

a little twinge of jealousy at Roslin’s good fortune at being able

to see her new girlfriend while Marcel was stuck at home with

little more than a phone call to keep her warm later.

“Don’t wait up for me!” Roslin called as gravel crunched

under her feet on her way to her car.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Marcel said.

Once inside she found something to eat in the refrigerator

1 Peggy J. Herring

and then went directly to her study and started working. The

Antique Villa was once again in need of inventory since business

was doing so well, and another buying trip was in Marcel’s future

within the next few days.

When Naomi called a while later, it took nothing more than

the sound of her voice for Marcel’s body to begin missing her all

over again. It was no longer a surprise to Marcel how eager she

was to experience Naomi’s touch again. Marcel was also quick to

remember how difficult it had been lately for her to fall asleep

alone.

“I hate this,” Naomi said as soon as Marcel answered the

phone. “Please let me come over. I’ll scale your fence from the

alley and sneak in the back door. I promise no one will see

me.”Marcel chuckled. “You’d set off every barking dog in the

neighborhood.”

“Then I’ll disguise myself in that pizza-girl outfit I wore for

Halloween.” Naomi lowered her voice suggestively. “Are you a

good tipper?”

“I have my moments.”

There was silence, and then Marcel heard Naomi’s deep sigh

before she said, “I miss you, baby.”

And against her better judgment and everything that seemed

right and safe in the world, Marcel asked her how soon she could

get there.

She answered the door fifteen minutes later, and Naomi was

in her arms, kissing her as though it had been months instead of

days since they had been together.

“I don’t care what happens,” Naomi said in between feverish

kisses. “I have to be with you.”

“I know.” Marcel felt complete for the first time since she

had left Naomi’s bed Monday morning.

“God, you feel good,” Naomi said with a little moan.

“Let’s go upstairs.”

Kissing, kissing, and more kissing kept them glued to each

Calm Before The Storm 1

other until their hands began to wander and their breathing

became ragged.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Marcel said again, but neither stopped the

kissing long enough to do anything about it. Then somewhere in

the distance, Marcel heard slamming car doors and loud voices.

There were people in the driveway, and seconds later they were

on the porch.

Roslin stormed through the front door and then banged it

shut. Marcel and Naomi looked over just in time to see Cricket

open the door again. Carmen was right behind her, and all three

started talking at once.

“Will you listen to me for a minute?” Cricket yelled.

Both Cricket and Roslin had been crying. Marcel turned

to look at Carmen, who was nodding toward the living room;

Marcel and Naomi followed her in there.

“What the hell’s going on?” Marcel asked as soon as they

were far enough away that the other two couldn’t hear.

“I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Why don’t you start with why the three of you are together

in the first place?”

Cricket came into the room and grabbed Marcel by the hand

and pulled her along until they were at the bottom of the stairs.

“Go up there and tell her to come down! She won’t talk to me.”

Marcel retrieved her hand and shook her head. “Not until

you get back in there and tell me what happened.”

Eventually Cricket calmed down enough to sit, and then

Marcel asked Carmen to do all the talking.

“It was your mother’s idea,” Carmen said, tossing out that

disclaimer right away. “We set up a little stakeout across the

street from Jordan’s new apartment so we could find out for

sure who she was seeing. Roslin was convinced that Jordan was

involved with more than one woman.”

Cricket sniffed and shifted in her chair. “It felt like we were

Charlie’s Angels or something,” Cricket said. “It started out

being a lot of fun.”

Marcel rolled her eyes and mumbled, “Charlie’s Angels.

More like Huey, Dewey, and Louie. Or Moe, Curley, and

Larry.”

10 Peggy J. Herring

“Oh, shut up,” Cricket said and then started to cry again.

“Please go get her for me. She won’t talk to me.”

“Not until I know exactly what happened,” Marcel said. “If

you three have screwed up my case I’ll—”

“It’s nothing like that,” Carmen said, and then looked over

at Cricket. “We saw the other woman and got pictures of Jordan

kissing her.” Then Carmen said simply, “It was Amanda, by the

way.”Stunned, Marcel could do nothing but stare. She saw Cricket

run from the room.

“Amanda and Jordan,” Marcel repeated.

Carmen nodded. “Amanda and Jordan. And apparently it’s

been going on for quite some time.”

“How long?”

“Cricket thinks they slept together the night of your

retirement party.”

“Are you telling me that Amanda and Jordan were sleeping

together when the General found out that Jordan was having a

lesbian affair?”

“None of that’s been officially confirmed, but that’s more or

less the idea.” Carmen sat on the arm of the sofa and stroked her

chin thoughtfully. “My hunch is that Jordan was having flings

with Captain Cooper and Amanda at the same time, but whatever

it was that the General discovered, it incriminated a woman in

the military in some sort of way. Bringing up your name drew

the scent away from Heidi and onto you, so to speak.” Carmen

shrugged. “At least that’s my theory.”

“What are the chances that Amanda has known what

Jordan was up to all along?” Marcel asked. That would explain

the mysterious phone call at the club the night we made love, Marcel

thought. It must have been Jordan who called Amanda that night.

“Nothing would surprise me.”

Marcel was angry at having been lied to yet again by Amanda

and made a fool of by Jordan, but she was also confused about a

few other things as well.

“So why is my mother so upset?” Marcel asked. Needing to

feel close to Naomi right then, Marcel reached over and took her

hand and kissed it.

Calm Before The Storm 11

Carmen let loose with a frustrated sigh. “It was the strangest

thing! We’re there scoping out Jordan with our binoculars, and

then we finally get a good shot of the other woman. I mentioned

that it looked like Amanda, and Cricket sort of freaks out on us

a little. She gets mad and then your mother starts snipping. All

of a sudden I’m in a very small car. The next thing I know Roslin

peels out of there, and now here we are.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Cricket came back downstairs and was still crying. She

leaned her head on the back of the sofa and pounded her fists

against it in frustration. “She won’t let me in her room, and she

won’t talk to me!”

“Get a grip,” Marcel snapped. She gave Naomi’s hand

another swift kiss and then let go of it before yanking Cricket

into the other room by the nape of the neck. “Sit,” she said and

then pointed to the stairs. Cricket did as she was told.

“The three of you were in the car,” Marcel said. “You see

that Amanda is there with Jordan. Tell me what happened after

that.”

Cricket covered her face with her hands and sighed heavily.

When she finally took her hands away, her voice was low and

husky from crying. “Once it was obvious that Amanda was there

with Jordan, I got angry. Things started falling into place, and

I was furious.” She closed her eyes and fought back more tears.

“Roz misunderstood what I was feeling and wouldn’t listen to me

when I tried to explain it to her.”

“Explain it to me so I can explain it to her.”

Cricket reached for Marcel’s hand and locked on with an

iron grasp. “Please fix it. Until I got to know her better, I always

thought you were the most stubborn person I’d ever met.”

“You think I got this way by accident?”

Cricket had a faint smile, but it went away when Marcel said,

“You still haven’t explained anything yet.”

“I was angry at Amanda for being a part of all this crap

Jordan has put you through. Amanda knew the accusations were

false, but she didn’t say anything, and it made me mad.” Cricket

closed her eyes and sighed again. “So in the meantime, your

1 Peggy J. Herring

mother was thinking that I was jealous of Amanda being with

Jordan, when that had nothing to do with why I was upset. But

she won’t listen to me. She’s beyond my reach.” Cricket sniffed

again and visibly tried to pull herself together. “So I need for you

to get yourself up there and talk to her for me. And if you get

me back in her good graces, I’ll forgive you for that other thing

you did that pissed me off so bad. .whatever it was. I don’t even

remember anymore.”

“It would behoove you right now to say please.”

“Please.”

“Now swear to me that you’re telling me the truth and that

you’re not still hung up on Amanda.”

“I’m in love with your mother, Marcel. Please go fix it.” She

moved over so Marcel could get by on her way up the stairs.

Calm Before The Storm 1

Chapter eighteen

When her mother opened the bedroom door, Marcel was

surprised to find her packing. Marcel stretched out on the foot of

Roslin’s bed and watched her carefully fold each garment before

putting it away in a suitcase. Roslin was still crying, and Marcel

was unsure what to do next.

“Where are you off to this time?”

“Vegas.”

“What time is your flight?”

“I’ll figure that out when I get to the airport.”

“Hmm. Okay.” Marcel sat up on the bed. “I need a favor,” she

announced. “This favor will help me sleep while you’re away, so

it’s important.” Cheap shot using the sleep angle to get her attention,

she thought, but time is a factor right now.

Roslin stopped working for a moment, and Marcel patted a

1 Peggy J. Herring

place beside her on the bed. “Sit down right here and listen to

me for a minute.”

Roslin reluctantly sat down on the bed and dabbed at a stray

tear with a worn, crumpled tissue.

“Cricket,” Marcel called. “I know you’re there outside the

door, so get in here.”

The door opened slowly, and Cricket’s shaggy red head

appeared. Marcel heard her mother sniff again, but she didn’t

look up. Marcel patted the bed beside Roslin and indicated that

Cricket was to sit there. To her mother, Marcel said, “Give her

five uninterrupted minutes, and if you still want to go to the

airport afterward, then I’ll take you as soon as you’re ready.”

She left and closed the door behind her. Glancing at her

watch so she would have an idea how well Cricket was doing,

Marcel went downstairs to find Naomi. An emergency hug was

on her agenda right then, but Carmen was the only one in the

living room.

“Where’s Naomi?”

Carmen slipped a CD into the player and turned the music

down low. “She left.”

“What?” Marcel said, surprised and disappointed since she

thought Naomi would be spending the night. “When?”

“Not too long after you went upstairs. Cricket let it slip that

you and Amanda had slept together recently. Naomi left right

after that.”

Marcel felt like someone had slapped her.

“It wasn’t a malicious thing,” Carmen said. “Just Cricket

running her mouth when she shouldn’t have.”

Marcel looked at her watch again and knew that Naomi

couldn’t be home yet, so there was no use trying to call her there.

She also didn’t want to deal with any of this over the phone, so

she asked Carmen if she would hang around for a while in case

Roslin needed to go to the airport after all.

“Make yourself at home,” Marcel said. “You know where

everything is.” She found her keys and headed for the door.

“Good luck,” Carmen called after her.

Calm Before The Storm 1

The wind had picked up a bit, and Marcel could smell rain in

the air the moment she stepped out of the house. She locked the

door and hurried down the sidewalk to the circle drive where she

saw Naomi’s car parked. Marcel sighed with relief and slowed

her pace. She approached the car, then tapped on the window of

the driver’s side. Naomi took her time rolling it down.

“Please come back to the house,” Marcel said. She had visions

of sending Carmen home and then sitting with Naomi in the

living room where they would talk this thing through.

“Not yet.”

“Then I’m coming in there,” Marcel said and went around

the car and opened the other door. Light rain began to fall as

soon as she got in.

It was dark and much too quiet. Marcel couldn’t stand it

any longer. She had to touch her and tell her, in the simplest

way possible, what she was feeling. She reached over and found

Naomi’s hand. She knew that things would be okay when Naomi

gave hers a squeeze in return.

“I hear that Cricket said something that upset you.”

“I didn’t know you and Amanda were lovers.” Naomi turned

and looked out the window; Marcel could tell by her voice that

she had been crying. “How long has it been going on?” Naomi

asked.

“The night the four of us met for dinner at the Quarry.”

Naomi released Marcel’s hand and folded her arms across

her chest. In a low, trembling whisper she said, “How could you

do this to me?” Her voice broke, and a sob escaped from her

throat. “How could you keep sleeping with her knowing how I

felt about you?”

“We were only together that one night.” Marcel tugged on

her elbow and made Naomi look at her. “Just that one night.

Come here and let me hold you.”

“One night.”

“Yes, one night. The night we all went to dinner and a

movie.” All attempts to hug her weren’t working, so Marcel let

go of her. “Tell me what you’ve been thinking,” she said. “That

1 Peggy J. Herring

I’ve somehow been with both you and Amanda all this time?”

With a sigh she added, “I work all day, and I’m with you at night.

When do I have time for two lovers?”

“You’re the only woman I know with a bed in her office.”

Marcel was speechless for a moment. “Uh.. well. .yes .” That’s

probably true, she thought. Good point.

“And I know for a fact that you have women there during

the day.”

“It was just one night.” Marcel didn’t know what else to say,

but she found herself practically dissolving when Naomi leaned

over and kissed her. The heat slowly radiated through her body,

and she heard Naomi say again, “Just one night?”

“Yes,” Marcel said breathlessly. “Just one night.”

Naomi renewed the kiss, and Marcel could feel her toes

curling.

“Please come back inside with me,” Marcel whispered. She

wanted nothing more than to have this woman in her arms again.

“Please,” Marcel whispered.

They hurried through the rain and went into the house

holding hands. A smiling Carmen met them in the foyer and

pantomimed wiping sweat from her brow. She left right after

that and on her way out suggested that Marcel take the next

morning off.

Once Marcel and Naomi were alone again, Marcel said,

“Come here,” and took her in her arms. Marcel buried her face

in Naomi’s neck and shoulder and finally felt as if she were home

again. “It scared me when Carmen said you had gone.” She kissed

Naomi’s cheek and the tip of her nose. “All kinds of things went

through my head.”

“That makes two of us.”

Marcel hugged her tightly again. “It made me realize how

much I love you. I hated the thought of you being upset enough

to leave that way.”

“When I got in the car I couldn’t make myself go anywhere.

I’m not sure how long I would have stayed there.”

Calm Before The Storm 1

Marcel took her by the hand and led her to the stairs.

“Well, just so you know, the bed in my office has only been used

once.”

“Oh sure. Is this the face of a gullible person?”

As Naomi kissed her again, Marcel thought, Let the tabloids

have their way. Newspapers, magazines, TV and radio stations. We’ve

spent our last night apart.

Early the next morning, Marcel woke up to Naomi asleep

beside her and the sound of muffled voices in the hallway. My

mother’s giggling again, she thought, and then stretched sleepily

against Naomi’s soft, naked body. Last night had been incredible,

and even now Marcel felt as though she were still glowing from

Naomi’s touch.

She kissed her on the nose and loved the way Naomi smiled

and stretched as she was waking up.

“Good morning, baby,” Marcel said.

“What time is it? I can’t be late for work.” And with a surprise

show of alertness, Naomi rolled on top of her and planted kisses

everywhere.

“We’ve got time for several things,” Marcel said. “God, you

feel good.”

“Can you pass a lie detector test?” Roslin asked Marcel as

she filled four cups with decaf coffee and then flipped Cricket’s

giant pancake on the griddle.

“What kind of question is that?” Marcel asked with a

furrowed brow.

“Let’s get our women off to work and then we’ll talk,” Roslin

said.The term our women made all four of them laugh. Marcel

was amazed at how well she was adjusting to Cricket and her

mother being lovers.

Cricket borrowed clothes for work from Marcel; Naomi

1 Peggy J. Herring

had brought her clothes the evening before. After showers and

a hasty breakfast, the four of them ended up in the foyer kissing

and cooing before Naomi and Cricket had to dash off to work

and fight the early-morning traffic. When their lovers were

gone, Marcel and her mother returned to the kitchen to enjoy

more coffee.

“So what’s all this talk about a lie detector test?” Marcel

asked.

“I’m thinking that you need to take one to prove you didn’t

sleep with the General’s wife. We’ll keep making you take it

until you pass it. Shouldn’t be that hard.”

Marcel looked at her incredulously and said, “I could pass

one on the first try.”

“Oh,” Roslin said, and then cackled.

“But why would I want to? What’s the point? They don’t

stand up in court, do they?”

“Who knows? We’ll ask that lawyer of yours. In the

meantime, I’ve got something else in mind that’ll work, but you

need to let me handle things my way.”

Marcel’s look made Roslin laugh heartily again. “And it has

nothing to do with encasing the General in cement or anything

like that, okay? How did I raise such a suspicious child?”

“How indeed?”

Marcel and Carmen helped the customer get the solid oak

table into the back of his pickup, and he assured them that he had

someone to help him with it once he got it home.

“My back always remembers right away how heavy real wood

is,” Marcel said as she put the tailgate up for him. She heard a

car door and looked over to find Heidi Cooper coming toward

them. Marcel felt a nostalgic twinge at seeing her in uniform and

realized how much she missed the simple things about the Army.

The shock of opening her closet door every morning and not

finding green uniforms there was finally beginning to subside,

and if she could just get over lining her shoes up according to

style and color, she would be extremely pleased with herself.

Calm Before The Storm 1

It was good seeing Heidi again, and Marcel asked about

several of the people they used to work with. William was in

touch with Marcel a few times a week on several office-related

matters that hadn’t been completed yet. He kept her posted on

most of the gossip around the Command as well.

The three of them walked into the shop, and Carmen leaned

over and whispered in an amused voice, “We could retire all over

again if each of them would just buy something big.”

Marcel shook her head and closed the door. “What brings you

our way this time of day?” she asked. It was only nine-thirty.

“I need to talk to you,” Heidi said, “and I didn’t want to do

it on the phone.”

Carmen left them alone and disappeared into her work area

in the back. Marcel noticed how tense Captain Cooper was, but

before Marcel could comment on it Heidi said, “I’m here about

Jordan. I just found out what happened.”

“I see.”

In a low, strained voice, she said Marcel’s name and then

couldn’t say anything else.

“Here,” Marcel said, pulling a stool out from behind the

counter. “Sit down. It can’t be that bad.”

“I’m so angry about this that I can’t even think.”

Marcel found another stool in the corner and pulled it up,

too. “You’ve talked to Jordan recently?”

Heidi nodded.

“What did she say?”

“She told me she lied to him about you, and that she had to

do it to protect me.” Heidi shook her head in disbelief. “I didn’t

even know he had confronted her. I feel like such a fool.” She

successfully blinked back tears and took a deep breath. “She also

told me that you two had never. .had never. .” Heidi stopped and

couldn’t finish that sentence either.

“So why are you here?” Marcel asked gently.

“Two reasons,” Heidi said with a sniff. “Number one is to

apologize for getting you mixed up in this.”

“That’s Jordan’s doing, not yours.”

With a slight nod, Heidi thanked her. “And the second reason

is to see if there’s anything I can do to help.”

10 Peggy J. Herring

“I appreciate the offer, but there’s no need to get you involved

in this if we don’t have to.”

Heidi finally managed a small smile. “Thanks. I really didn’t

know about any of this, Marcel. I just got a call from her about

an hour ago. She told me everything then.”

“Did you learn anything from this experience?”

“Oh yes.” Heidi stood up and moved her stool out of the way.

“I’ve learned a lot, but there’s still plenty to be worried about.

Jordan is even more unpredictable now. There’s a chance she’ll

be going with him to D.C.”

“Really? She told you that?”

“Yes. The General knows he’ll never get his second star

if there’s a divorce. The two of them might be trying to work

things out.”

“Just be careful,” Marcel said. “And maybe you should try

being more selective who you spend your time with.”

“I’m swearing off women. This has been just awful. That

should take care of the problem.”

Marcel got the call from her mother at about three-thirty

that afternoon to meet for dinner at the Old San Francisco

Steakhouse.

“The General dropped the lawsuit,” Roslin had said, “and

we’re celebrating. Invite Carmen and bring your girlfriend. And

dress up a little. The Senator is buying, okay?”

Fifteen minutes later, Marcel’s lawyer called to inform her

that General Wheatly had indeed dropped his lawsuit.

“Do we know why?” Marcel asked. She had spent a good ten

minutes trying to get in touch with her mother again for more

details about what had happened, but Roslin wasn’t at home and

her cell phone was busy.

“His lawyer wouldn’t tell me why.”

“Do they understand that if there’s one peep about any of

this, we’re suing him?”

“He understands that very clearly now.”

Marcel hung up the phone and considered going home to talk

Calm Before The Storm 11

to her mother, but two customers came in and she wasn’t able to

get away. So I guess I get to hear about it with everyone else tonight, she

thought. I’m sure my mother is enjoying the hell out of this.

Carmen had a family function to attend and couldn’t

participate in the celebration, but Roslin, Senator Horatio

Wainwright—whom Roslin fondly referred to as Skippy—

Naomi, Cricket, and Marcel were there and relieved to have the

“Wheatly thing” over with. They had the best table in the house

and were getting superb service.

“Marcel, I must say your mother has every reason to be

proud of you,” Senator Wainwright said. “I remember when we

were endorsing you for West Point! And look at you now! Makes

me feel old.”

“Now, Skippy,” Roslin said. “You forget sometimes that you

are old!”

The laughter flowed easily during cocktails, and when the

Senator excused himself from the table to grab a few puffs on his

cigar, Cricket was the first to ask Roslin what had happened to

convince General Wheatly to drop his lawsuit.

Roslin grinned and began her story. “Skippy arranged for me

to meet the General at his lawyer’s office where I showed them

the pictures that we’d taken of Amanda and Jordan. I refrained

from mentioning Captain Cooper’s name, being as we had no

real proof of her involvement. I also told the General that my

daughter was willing to take a lie detector test to prove she had

nothing to do with his wife’s indiscretions.”

Reaching for her wineglass, Roslin took a huge sip and slowly

set it back down again. “And, unfortunately, none of that made

an impression on him.”

Cricket groaned as they all realized that Roslin was playing

with them.

“So what did change his mind!” Cricket said in

exasperation.

“The video Skippy has of the General on all fours getting

spanked by some nice madam.”

1 Peggy J. Herring

“Oh my goodness!” Naomi said, and then howled with

laughter. Cricket joined in and then leaned over to give Roslin

a hug.

Marcel didn’t know what to say at first. She was just happy to

hear that the lawsuit had been dropped. Now Naomi would be

safe and they could see each other again without that complication

hanging over them.

“So you blackmailed him,” Marcel said, summing it all up

for them in four simple words.

“I prefer thinking of it as him having a change of heart.”

“It’s either him or you,” Cricket said reasonably. “Don’t start

feeling sorry for him.” Cricket gave her that squinty look that

usually meant don’t screw this up for me. Marcel decided not to

bring up the fact that both she and the General were victims in

this.“Where did Senator Skippy get this video?” Cricket asked.

Everyone at the table laughed.

“His name is Senator Wainwright,” Roslin said, correcting

her with a chuckle. “Not Senator Skippy.”

Marcel smiled. “So where did your Senator get this video?”

Roslin picked up her glass again and took another big sip. “I

didn’t ask and he didn’t tell.”

Cricket groaned. “Well, I personally think you did an

excellent job fixing this mess.”

Marcel looked at her mother and nodded. “As always. Thank

you.”“And not one little chunk of cement had to be used, dear,”

Roslin reminded her. “Now answer a question for me.”

“Sure,” Marcel said.

“You really, really, really never slept with Jordan?”

“Really, really, really,” Marcel said with a smile. As Naomi

reached over and squeezed her hand, she added one more really

for good measure.

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Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter twO

Chapter three

Chapter FOur

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter eight

Chapter nine

Chapter ten

Chapter eleven

Chapter twelve

Chapter thirteen

Chapter FOurteen

Chapter FiFteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter eighteen