“I’m good, son.” Her eyes twinkled.
“You look great too.” He kissed her cheek.
“This new business suits you.”
“We’re successful. Turns out much of the world wants to talk to us.”
She nodded. “As they should. Now come on in before your father starts calling your phone.”
“Oh boy. How’s everything?”
“We’re doing great. He’s got enough votes lined up to pass his next initiative.”
“I meant, how are things with you both, as people?” He laughed. “But I suppose the answer might be the same.”
“Our book club is growing. I’ve got more women than ever donating to refugees. And no one has kicked me out of church yet.”
“As if they would.” He shook his head. Their congregation was most proud of two things, one being that his father, Senator Callison, was a member.
They made their way into his dad’s study. He had floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over their acreage behind the house. Nothing but woods and rolling hills with a stream that flowed through the back. All the homes in this neighborhood sat on at least five acres. The lots were wooded and private. Dex loved being home for a few days. Typically that’s all he needed before he felt antsy and ready to get back to his job. This trip he only had a few hours, a quick sleep in his childhood bed.
“Son!” His dad’s face lit up as he stood.
Dex hugged him, grateful that his father’s shoulders and arms seemed as strong as ever. “How are you, sir?”
“I’m great! Greater than ever. And I’m hearing good things about you, son. Sit down. Sit.” He turned to Mom. “Margorie, maybe you could grab us a plate of those cookies?” He winked.
She ran to go get what he suspected was a plate of peanut butter cookies, his favorite.
Why couldn’t all of life be as simple and sweet as home?
“Son, I’ll just get right to the point while your mom is gone. They’re talking about you on the hill. Some of it good, some not so good. You just keep doing what you’re doing.” He held out a white envelope that looked to be stuffed with information. “Take a look at all this and let me know what you think when you get back.”
Dex nodded. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes, of course. Just some information for you to think about.”
Mom came back in with the cookies and a large glass of milk.
“You are an angel, Mother.” Dex grinned and dipped his first cookie in the full glass. “Mmm. These are better than I remember.”
She smiled her awesome soft smile, and just for that, he was happy he’d come home.
She laughed. “I don’t know how anyone thinks you’re a tough military man. They must not see you like I do.”
“People think I’m tough?” He sat up taller, knowing full well he’d intimidated enough new cadets to earn that reputation.
“Have you heard from Gianna?” His father’s face was surprisingly focused.
“Nope.” Dex shrugged. “I don’t think she ever forgave me for not taking the nonprofit business route like she did.”
“She’ll come around.” His mother patted his shoulder.
“I might not see her again, honestly. I don’t even know where she is at the moment. Could be anywhere in the world. Siberia. Australia.” He wanted his mom to let go of any hopes she had that he and Gianna would ever be together again. He needed to do the same. But that was easier in theory.
That night, he slept in his old room. He would leave at four in the morning, but a few hours to sleep in his own bed would be nice. He studied the bookshelf. His parents had left it much like he had left it after all the different times he’d been home. All his graduations were represented. High school. He still had braces then. He laughed. College, the Air Force Academy. He was proud of his honors there. And Law School. JAG. He and Gianna stood side by side, holding up their diplomas with the cheesiest of grins. He picked up their picture and brought it over to his bed. Gianna. What was she doing right now?
The folder his dad had handed him was tucked under his arm. He leaned back against his headboard, sliding a finger along the adhesive.
A quick glance told him he wasn’t the only one who knew that his next Top Flight Academy training would be in the Pacific Alliance. His father had collected an impressive amount of intel. He flipped though it quickly. He could read it all on his flight to Tandora. But then Gianna’s picture smiled at him. It was attached to a report. He smiled, lifted the image and scanned the information. Still setting up orphanages. The information was over a year old. But it had her in Papua New Guinea. Interesting. Someone had opened an investigation to find her most current whereabouts. A trickle of worry began to pester him. Was she missing?
He pulled up her Facebook account. Not updated in over three years. No help at all. The last picture she’d posted was of herself in Romania. Her blond hair was dyed a stark black and chopped at her chin. Her blond hair had been magnificent, but Dex found the dark, short look hot. He grinned at her defiant expression. At the time the picture was taken, efforts were underway to try and shut down her home for the children.
“Where are you now?”
He fell asleep with his phone open to her account.
Chapter 2
Gianna pumped water onto her hands, one at a time, scrubbing the dirt off as best she could. Her feet were next. Cold water poured out onto the thick layer of mud while she rubbed it from dark brown to light tan until finally the color of her skin shone through. Sliding down a wet bank into rice fields had to be the most thorough way to cover yourself in mud. The locals never lost their balance, but she couldn’t seem to walk along the thin paths at the edge of the rice patties without bathing in mud.
A group of children ran past, and she smiled. Three of them came for food and water and sometimes to sleep in one of the homes for children she was setting up on their island. Once her feet were mostly clean, she hurried back through the line of homes toward her own and the first orphanage she’d built on this island. She hardly noticed the humidity any longer. Her clothes seemed to be wet all the time, whether from sweat or rain, but she hardly noticed any longer.
She climbed up her ladder and onto her bamboo platform. Her raised home was just like all the others around. Bamboo slats made up her walls, tied together as tightly as they could be. Her flooring was also bamboo, and her roof the same, with some added thatching to keep out the rain. It was mostly successful unless there was side rain with the strong typhoon winds. Then she felt it through her walls.
But nothing was ever cold. Not really. She was accustomed enough to the heat that mid-seventies felt moderately chilly, but the feeling always passed when she reminded herself she would be more hot than she could stand in just a few weeks, or the next day. The weather was perfectly predictable on her Pacific island. Forecast: rain and heat.
She could hear the lunch bell calling the children for food. She smiled. They fed as many as they could. The children who lived there all had two meals a day, and others who were hungry often joined them. Her policy was turn no one away. Unfortunately they had no choice some days. They did not have an endless supply of food or resources.