Parkers Island Ch. 01

When I heard that Carol was being taken stateside that afternoon, I pulled myself out of bed and phoned everyone I knew that would get me one last moment with my friend. The two guys from Bingham Securities refused, so I happily went over their heads and, within an hour, two suits arrived and escorted me to the Marine Barracks.

"So tell me, Mrs. Burnett, why would I leave someplace that my friend spent so much time telling me about? The way Carol talked about the island it was Utopia and, in my short time here, I have yet to call my friend a liar."

I'm not sure that Martha Burnett was expecting my question, just as I knew she had never had so much detail given to her about her daughter's death.

"Was it the Department that pushed for the medal Carol was awarded?"

"No. In total six people pushed to make that request happen. The Marine General who introduced himself to you was in the ops-room coordinating the rescue mission. He heard every detail Carol gave over the radio and the injuries I had sustained. Not once did she mention her own."

"You said six people."

"The lieutenant in charge of the rescue team, two members of the Department, and myself."

"That's five. Who else?"

"Senator Chadwick."

"Why would Steven Chadwick have a say in this?"

"Because, amongst other things, Senator Chadwick is on the committee that oversees the Department's activities."

Martha Burnett was quiet for a while, then with a nod of her head she stood and walked to the door. She paused for a moment before turning the handle. When she turned to me her face was as unreadable as I had ever seen.

"I thank you for your honesty. Carol is dead - you're not, so stop acting like you are. Em will be returned to you tomorrow."

She had already gone before I got to ask why she had been here in the first place. Once I washed up I felt not only emotionally but physically exhausted as well, and truth be told it was part of the reason I left the Department. I couldn't allow someone else to stand in front of another relative and tell them about their loss at the expense of my life.

*******

I still woke at my usual time. My body clock decided, and I just went along for the ride. Showered, shaved and out the door to yet another glorious day, I even got my favorite table at the diner. Henry came in for a carry-out coffee, and I waved him over to my table. We negotiated a price on two more antique coffee tables and a time scale for completion. I planned to send both tables to my sisters for birthday presents; it sure is hell thinking of presents for them when you have twin sisters.

Amelia was at the house by the time I got back around mid-day. She looked like shit, but I wasn't brave enough to put that into words. The way she looked also led me to believe she had a story to tell, so I made us both a drink, sat across from her and waited her out.

"My folks and I have talked. Matriarch came by later and we talked some more."

Again she stopped, so I used the time to ask the one question that still nagged at me.

"Why do you call Martha Burnett 'Matriarch'?"

That set Amelia fidgeting in her seat. Judging by the way she kept glancing at me I wasn't going to get an answer to my question, and eventually she went back to her rehearsed speech.

"I'm moving back onto the island and making my home with you."

The shock of her statement made even me pause.

"Don't I get a say in this?"

Amelia shrugged her shoulders before commenting.

"You can talk all you want. I will even let you have input into this, since you seem to feel the need, so go ahead: I'm listening."

Before I got to open my mouth she had stood up, and I followed as she walked towards the stairs, grabbing two suitcases as she went. She had one of the suitcases open and on the bed before she herself said anything.

"You know, for someone who wanted to say something you're not saying much."

I think my annoyance over this whole situation was starting to creep to the surface, and I'm sure it showed in my tone.

"Amelia, sit down right now!"

Boy, was I glad she wasn't in uniform. The look she gave me sure made me feel like she would have shot me by now. After a pause, Amelia placed the blouse she had in her hand into the closet, before coming over and sitting on the edge of the bed.

As much as I wanted to sit in front of her while we had this conversation, it just wasn't possible. The urge to hold her hand came to me instead, and confusion as to why I was having that urge came next. By then the sound of her voice came to me, so I just listened.

"Martha Burnett is a distant cousin to my family; hell, all the people on this island are related to each other in some way, shape or form."

This time I did slide my hand into hers, although I'm not even sure she noticed. Her eyes were on the far wall as she told me about growing up with Carol, the fun they had together, and the time Carol finally sat her down and told her she had joined the Marine Corps. The friendship between them was truly tested over the coming weeks, even down to a tearful hug the day she left for boot camp.

"I'm not a virgin, Aiden; three men have been there and done the deed. But none of them stuck around long enough to ever form a deep relationship. In the end I turned to Matriarch."

Amelia looked towards me this time, her voice not much above a whisper, yet still holding so much emotion within it. She had sat down with Martha Burnett and told her of her past worthless relationships, and asked Martha to act as matchmaker. Placing her life in Martha Burnett's hands, she was in turn told that the man she would live with for the rest of her life wasn't on the island.

Misunderstanding Martha by believing that she had been told to leave the island, she went to her folks and told them of her wish to leave and live on the mainland. The Deputy's job was partially influenced by Martha Burnett.

"Matriarch came to my folk's house after she left you last night, and told me that as my matchmaker she had made her choice for me - you."

She clenched my hand tight to hers as she said her last word.

A thousand and one questions all rushed to my lips, yet only one made it past. Even then I regretted saying it the instant I uttered the words. "Don't I get a say in any of this?"

Amelia shrugged her shoulders.

"Up until Matriarch told me this I had faith in her. In her lifetime she has been a matchmaker twenty-seven times, and all twenty-seven couples are still blissfully happy. And then Matriarch stands in the middle of my folks' room and tells me I'm to be matched with you."

As I was hearing all this and watching her reaction, I suspected that Amelia wasn't even close to happy over the decision of Martha Burnett. Even the months Carol and I spent together, and the times we talked about the island and her growing up here, she had clearly crafted her words so well that I never suspected so much was missing from our conversations together.

"You can always go home or back to the mainland."

The one sentence that left my lips was meant to be neutral, yet my ears picked up on the rebuke within and I couldn't figure out why it sounded that way. Amelia went back to placing her clothes on hangers and putting them into the closet.

"No, I can't. It's the deal we make with the matchmaker. When we place our lives in Matriarch's hands to find a mate and husband, we can't back out of the choice she makes."

Even with her back to me I heard the giggle, although tinged with irony.

"Let's face it; it was a small sacrifice on my part. After all, Matriarch had got it right twenty-seven times. But it's OK - I will live with it. When we are out together I will be the perfect wife, but please be discreet."

As her words resonated in my ears it suddenly dawned on me what she was thinking.

"So you believe Martha Burnett got it wrong because I'm gay?"

The nod of her head came first before she said, "Like I said, Aiden, please be discreet. For the sake of our marriage you will need to keep your activities away from the island."

I suppose I should have been pissed by now, but curiosity overrode that emotion.

"Did you tell Martha Burnett that I was gay?"

Again she nodded her head. "Matriarch asked me about our first night together, so I told her you never touched me all night and, in the morning, you became all defensive when I asked you if you were gay."

Well that answered the question of why it was the first thing she asked me when she sat down. I suppose in her mind it was simply reinforced when I told her to mind her own business. "So you told Martha Burnett, in front of your folks, that I was gay?" Amelia shook her head, "No, Aiden. Discretion works both ways. I asked for a private moment with her before I told her the truth about you."

Feeling ever so curious about this I just had to ask. "OK. So what did she say?"

"She told me that it wasn't true; she had asked you and was assured by you that it wasn't true." Her hand came up and touched my cheek before she spoke again. "We both know you lied to Matriarch: you mustn't do that, Aiden. I will keep your secret, but please respect our ways. Don't lie to Matriarch."

The phone interrupted our conversation and, short of laughing all the way down the stairs at her assumption, I didn't get to say much else to her. When I answered the phone Shelby sent me into my home office, and the puzzle that waited for me when I opened the computer kept me in my office for the rest of the night.

Dawn was peeking through the windows when I came back out into the real world. It wasn't until I was locking the door that I heard the gentle sound of breathing. Amelia was asleep on the couch, a blanket over her body. Scooping her into my arms brought her arm instinctively around my neck. She sure was a sound sleeper, though: even when I placed her into bed and tucked the covers around her she didn't wake. My kiss on her forehead was both instinctive and protective.

*******"

You look like shit."

I was so busy looking out the window at the scene that I had first witnessed the day I bought this house that I didn't even hear her come down the stairs. The t-shirt covered her body right down to the top half of her thighs. My thoughts that she looked about the same never made it to my lips; I'm just not that brave.

"Coffee is still hot. I'll start making breakfast in a moment." Amelia was already heading for the kitchen and chose to ignore me. She poured herself a coffee and placed it on the counter as she set about making us breakfast. I sat on the stool so she handed me a bowl and eggs, her meaning being clear after that.

"Why were you sleeping on the couch?"

"I came down looking for you when you didn't come back from answering the phone. When I couldn't find you, and since the door was still on the chain, I figured you were in your office, so I waited for you."

It was only when I handed her the bowl back that she spoke again.

"Does this sort of thing happen often? The sitting in your office all night, I mean?"

At first I just shrugged my shoulders, then the memory of her asleep on the couch came to me, and the feeling that I should explain a bit better quickly followed. So I told her that a single life meant I would get calls like those once in a while, plus the fact that once I had immersed myself into a puzzle I lost all track of time. Breakfast took over from any topic from then on. I did the washing-up whilst Amelia had a shower, and as she came out of the shower I went in.

She didn't even have a chance to grab a towel; when she looked up and saw me coming, her towel was already in my hand. She nodded and whispered a "thank you" as we passed each other, and I was left to wonder during my shower just how much time would be needed to restore her usual sunny disposition.

Amelia was long gone from the bedroom by the time I had finished, and she was placing the phone back on the cradle by the time I was halfway down the stairs.

"We are to pick up flowers for the cemetery and be there for mid-day, so you still have time for your usual habits. Sandy has a couple of pictures she says will complement the large one on that wall, so make sure you have your checkbook handy."

This time I simply couldn't resist. "Yes, dear."

Amelia stopped her hand going any further towards her coat as her lips twitched and she looked at me. It took only a moment before her smile beat the frown she was heading for. From the moment we closed the gate her hand went to mine, and it never moved away until I held the door to the diner open. She thanked me and, as we entered and headed for our table, the volume of noise decreased considerably.

It wasn't until I pulled her chair out that I realized my hand had been on the small of her back the entire time. Having breakfast at home meant we both opted for drinks and apple pie. By now we had become old news in the diner, and the noise level increased once again to its usual level. Amelia would wave to a few of the customers and, as the diner started to fill up, I suggested we take our drinks in a carry out and sit on one of the seats overlooking the dock.

We watched the ferry finally close in on the dock and ropes drop to the feet of waiting men who finished securing them. The cars came next, passengers followed: some were in more of a hurry than others.

"How in the hell can you do this every single damn day?"

Amelia placed her cup to her lips so she couldn't add to her question.

"It's therapeutic; I spent eight years cooped up in a sterile building or being flown from one country to another. I had no anchor to tie my life to, and I found myself drifting. Carol supplied that anchor when she talked about the island."

"Did she ever talk about any of us?"

"Let's just say that names were replaced to protect the guilty."

She smiled; OK, she smirked. Then I mentioned that I was good at puzzles, and the more Carol talked about her life on the island the more I could deduce about who did what all through her teen years.

Amelia made the mistake of over-confidence just then when two words passed her lips: "Prove it." The nervous look which followed indicated to me that she had regretted her words the moment they left her mouth.

As I shrugged my shoulders hers slumped, the color around her neck changing when I went on to explain the night that Carol, Sandy, Amelia and Tessa all got into an argument over what was the quickest way across Clearwater Cove. It was decided to break them into two teams, so Carol and Amelia swam naked across the Cove while Tessa and Sandy cycled around it.

It must have taken a good ten minutes for the redness around her neck and cheeks to subside. "So you know what the losers of the swim and cycle race had to do?"

My smile got ahead of me, and I got as far as "Oh, yeah!" before she stood up and headed for Sandy's shop.

While Sandy showed me the two pictures and we discussed delivery, Amelia ducked out of the shop and came back with flowers in her hand. I looked at my watch and, after thanking Sandy once again, we walked to the cemetery. I couldn't help but wonder at the sight of Marines walking from the dock and into the cemetery the day of Carol's funeral.

The local paper carried the headline "This day an island stops to grieve."

The whole Burnett family stood by Carol's graveside. Amelia pulled one flower from the bunch and handed me the remainder as she placed her single flower on Carol's grave, then turned to each of the family and hugged them.

I placed my flowers on my friend's grave and looked directly at Carol's father. "You can hit me all you want, sir, but I'm going to keep coming back to pay my respects to my friend."

Other than nod his head he did nothing. Tessa held onto his arm and they walked away with Amelia. Martha Burnett hooked her arm into mine and we both walked the path around the cemetery. "I understand matchmakers, although I didn't realize they still existed in this day and age."

"We learned many years ago that we could not afford to repeat the failures of our history. When Kurt was sent to jail for assaulting Em, she came to me and begged me to act as her Matchmaker because all she had in her life was pain."

My stomach knotted as another conversation my friend and I had suddenly fell into place.

"Please tell me why you matched us." We walked for another minute before Martha Burnett spoke again.

"I swear Em is a redhead in disguise, more so since Kurt. She needs you as much as you need her. The speed you both heal will simply make the bond you share reinforce your feelings for each other.

"Martha stopped and looked right at me so she could emphasize her next words.

"The first night you shared I had ordered her to be naked around you. It was the closest I have ever seen Em want to disobey me."

"You know nothing about me, Mrs. Burnett: I could have been another Kurt."

The corner of her mouth went up in a half smile, her arm once again going into mine, and our walk continued.

"Two things preclude that, Aiden. The first is that my daughter spent a month with you and you're still breathing. She was as good a judge of character as I am. The second is that we live on an island and, if you had harmed Em in any way, the Department would never have found your body."

An undercurrent of truth flowed through her last statement. Martha Burnett led us along another path and we could both see everyone waiting for us at the cemetery gates. We were still out of earshot when she spoke again.

"Now stop with this nonsense about being gay, Aiden, and love her. You can fuck the shit out of her when she gets over the shock that you're straight, but love her for now." The immediate shock was mine, hearing such unexpectedly foul language from a pillar of the community, and reminding me so much of my own mother. We both looked at the waiting group, knowing that they couldn't hear us.

"You're determined to make us number twenty-eight, aren't you?"

"Oh, you will be twenty-eight when you both get your heads out of your collective asses, Aiden." Martha Burnett stopped and held my arm, forcing me to look directly at her. "You're home now, Aiden. Em can help you put some roots down - she's going to be the reason you keep coming back from those trips of yours, not my dead daughter."

End of chapter one.