Blue Topaz Eyes

The target was a Romanian neighborhood where the FBI had multiple tips that weapons were being smuggled to drug cartels and, more importantly to me, terrorist cells in the US. Important to me because the anti-terrorism rules allowed me to be seconded to the FBI as a technical asset as a linguist. Several tips led to the same neighborhood, but none of them named specific people – the court order request must have been spectacular, because we had almost carte blanche for the surveillance based on "Compelling need of the state". We'd have a suite of cell phone intercept equipment, parabolic microphones and a plethora of other equipment ranging from lipstick cameras to audio bugs disguised as all kinds of items.

We spent the next four hours eagerly going over the framework for the operation – pretty much ignoring Donna and her supervisors to the point that they simply left us. Emma's attention to detail was spectacular. There were really only minor tweaks to be made, which was fortunate since we only had two weeks to launch.

Since we'd be obvious on entry into the close knit immigrant community, we decided to 'hide' by making extra noise. The Friday before we moved in, I'd go through the neighborhood, leave notes on doors apologizing in advance for blocking the street with a rented moving van. When we arrived our car would have the residue of a badly scraped off "Just Married" soap writing. We'd have a half dozen men and women from both our agencies "helping us move in"; in reality they'd also be techs setting up equipment in the basement and attic of the house. Emma would drop by the clinic where her cover job was, on the same day. It worked beautifully, as did the rest of the operation. Due to classification concerns you will be able to read all about it in 75 years. Or so. Suffice to say six very bad men and one confused woman with very poor judgment went to prison.

As for Emma and I, it was six months of what can only be described as bliss. We meshed instantly – she was perfect; smart, beautiful, fun and understanding. We didn't even make a token effort to deny our mutual attraction, we were in bed together the first night. For the first month, I thought we were in lust, then I decided it must be mutual infatuation. By the fourth month, I was sure we were in love. We shared stories – about our childhood, about previous assignments. I told her about my two months in a Buddhist monastery hunting terrorist infiltration routes between long bouts of trying to stay awake during meditation practice. She told me about going undercover as a lesbian art dealer. Maybe a little too deep undercover since her and her "partner" ended up sleeping together a few times. After years at an all-girl boarding school, it was hardly new to Emma, but it was the first time for her partner who ended up leaving the Bureau, taking the Bar exam and was now living downtown with another woman.

I bought her flowers, we went on picnics, and we had backyard barbeques with the neighbors. We even babysat for the neighbors on occasion. I could see Emma would be a perfect mom someday. It felt so real. But it wasn't.

Emma's flaw was ambition. She wanted to succeed on her own, and nobody, nothing, was going to stop her. Her parents were very wealthy; not the kind of wealthy you are probably thinking of – way beyond that. She was essentially raised by elite boarding schools in Switzerland, and her entire childhood was one long training session to turn her into the ruthless shark lawyer her parents wanted to protect their business empire.

She hated it.

She hated every minute of boarding school, prep school and, while she excelled at Law, she hated that too. So when she graduated, instead of joining her one of father's firms she promptly applied for the FBI. She was going to fight her way up on her own. Her parents ranted, raved, threatened, and finally disowned her.

In the end, that ambition was too much. I was in love and so was she, but there was no way she would give up her dream – she had invested too much in it. She couched it in as gentle terms as possible, saying that neither one of us could afford to make commitments at this point in our careers since it would mean leaving covert work. And covert work meant we couldn't even keep seeing each other on the side – we had to break it off cleanly. Besides, it was dangerous, the odds of one of us being killed or having our work "follow us home" was far too high. She was adamant. It saddened her as much as it did me, our last month was full of soft kisses, tears and late nights holding each other. She clung to me every night as if her last breath depended on me, but in the end, she felt we had to part.

The mission ended quietly. Good missions do; they end in a quiet knocks on doors rather than loud gun battles. A quiet debrief or two. That's all.

And a broken heart.

It was six years before I saw her again.

I was just finishing my daily summary when the phone rang.

She obviously expected me to remember her voice – all she said was "We need to meet at Walter Reed Hospital. In the entrance lobby. As soon as you can get there."

Then she hung up.

I ran a quick google search and headed out the door, telling my secretary I had an emergency. When I'd transitioned from military to civilian, I'd taken Donna's position along with her secretary. Donna had moved up as well; I still worked for her, but now I oversaw the operations.

I found her in the center of the busy lobby – posture still straight, but her hair now shot through with iron grey. It looked good on her. Her expensive tailored outfit screamed "senior government official" even if the body guard standing slightly off to her left hadn't been so obvious. He was trying to keep his line of fire clear of a tall woman in a suit and a shorter woman in an overly colorful skirt and blouse. I could see his hackles rise as I headed straight for my caller.

I kept my hands in the clear and nodded as I walked up "Deputy Director."

She gave a terse smile "A hair more polite than the first time we met."

"I may learn slowly, but I do learn."

She paused, a shadow passing over her face "Emma... Emma got hit by a car bomb in Turkey a month ago"

I felt my heart stop.

"She will live. She's in an induced coma while they repair everything – she lost her right leg to the knee, part of her right hand and she will have to have plastic surgery on the right half of her face. She will live, but..."

I'm sure she said something else – she may have talked on for a while, but I was no longer listening.

She had the brightest blue topaz eyes I'd ever seen

She was peering around a rainbow scattered skirt, from under a mop of dark curls, held back by a pink ribbon.

I know how the moth feels. I didn't think about it at all, couldn't think. I stepped over to her and knelt down. Fuck the expensive suit, I wasn't sure my knees would hold me up any longer anyway.

Somebody else started to say something, but neither of us could hear it. Eyes locked in wonder. I knew. She knew. She spoke first.

"Where have you been?"

"Chasing bad guys. But I'm done now."

"They won't let me see Mommy."

"That's because they don't know tough you are sweetheart."

She reached her hand over to take mine. Rainbow Skirt stared at us with an expression of horror.

I stood up.

"Where's Emma's room?"

The elevator ride up to Emma's ward was an experience.

Ellie. Her name was Ellie. And she was brilliant.

Five years old, she loved gymnastics, horses and mango smoothies.

Everyone else had sensibly stopped talking. By the time we reached the top floor, we were inseparable. Even Rainbow Skirt seemed to acknowledge it.

I picked her up and headed straight for Emma's room. A nurse moved to block us, but the bodyguard waved her off.

I felt Ellie tense and gasp in my arms as we entered. Emma was a mess. Bandages covered half her face, her left hand and what was left of her left leg were bundles of bandages. IV bags, oxygen and a half dozen hissing and lightly beeping machines crowded the end of her bed. I lifted Ellie up to lay against Emma's right side.

"Mommy's asleep, but I think she could use a good, long, snuggle."

Ellie smiled and curled right up against Emma.

I turned back to the Deputy Director.

"Why now?"

She paused for a thought "Cathy and Monica's power of attorney runs out in a week. And Emma's parents are seeking custody."

"Emma would hate that. And against that kind of money, only the biological father would be sure to win, right?"

She nodded "Not that I am in the habit of explaining myself to anyone other than Congress, but she swore me to secrecy. Leaving you hurt her more than she would ever admit to anyone, but I could see it. She was trying to do the right thing."

The right thing, I thought, would have been to marry me and live happily ever after. This wasn't the time or place to argue that, though.

She continued "It may be a fight – Emma's father is using his money to cause problems – Cathy and Monica were refused at the last minute when they tried to renew their lease on their apartment, so they have to be out next week. Monica's bakery has had four inspectors from different agencies in the last week. I am putting a stop to that, but it won't be long before he moves against her suppliers."

Rainbow Skirt and Suit – Monica and Cathy I presumed – stared at me.

I decided to address them and get it over with. "I am sure you don't trust me" I held up a hand to forestall argument "and why should you? You don't know me at all. So here's what I can offer. My farm is down the Green line, my house is plenty big enough for everyone – it's an old farmhouse with six bedrooms, not counting the basement. You can stay rent-free until Emma wakes up or you decide to move out."

Monica stayed tight lipped, but a grim faced Cathy spoke up. "Deal. Just so we can watch over Ellie. We promised Emma we would. And we don't have a lot of options."

I suppressed a smile when I realized that Cathy had been Emma's "partner" in the Art studio. She eyed me suspiciously, but I decided not to broach the subject. Besides, Monica might not know – and I didn't need any more drama.

I explained where the farm was and wrote down directions. She said they would come over after picking up some clothes from home. The electricity to their apartment had mysteriously shut off last night and they couldn't seem to find anyone to turn it on.

Monica fixed me with a hard stare "Don't get any ideas. Lose any weird male fantasy about the two of us walking around in panties all day."

"I have somewhat more important things to worry about now than your choice of underwear."

I went back in to see Ellie, she was sitting up waiting patiently, gently stroking the side of Emma's face, while the nurse looked on in a near-heart failure. "Are we going to live with you now?"

I couldn't help but smile. "Little rabbits have long ears."

She grinned, a real grin.

I pulled out my phone and pulled up a picture. "I could use some help with Frankie."

She craned her neck to look at the picture "He's SO cute! He's a pug isn't he?"

"He's a little goober. And he could use a friend."

She giggled.

By the time they reached the house, it was nearly 9 PM. The two women walked in slowly looking around cautiously, but Ellie just sprinted past them screeching to stop just in front of me, almost nose to nose with a wildly wagging Frankie.

That was truly love at first sight; within seconds they were playing happily on the floor.

Cathy and Monica relaxed a tiny bit as I showed them around the house – a great rambling structure dating back to just after the Civil War. I'd ended up inheriting it and 72 acres from my Grandfather due to my interest in history, while my siblings had been given more land. I sold 30 acres of the land to finance restoring the house to its former gracious beauty. I'd updated it a bit in a lot of small ways that weren't obvious, but kept the historical ambiance. We selected a room for Ellie next to mine, while Cathy and Monica's room would be on the other side of hers.

There were a lot of adjustments to be made – Ellie had to get used to farm girl jeans, shirts and rather than dresses, frilly or otherwise.

Cathy – and especially Monica – had to learn to trust me – a trust that was neither easy to build or along an obvious path.

I think Monica finally decided I could be trusted when Ellie got a stomach virus and I stayed up all night with her, cleaning up vomit, changing sheets and holding her.

A few days later, while I was reading in the library, well after Ellie had gone to bed, Cathy, then Monica walked very deliberately through the library. In T-shirts and underwear. They wore what were obviously brand new "Hello Kitty" underwear. A very considered gesture of trust. It was never repeated, but the meaning was very clear.

We settled into a pattern – every night, Cathy, Monica or myself would stay for a few hours with Emma, listening to the machines. On Saturdays, Ellie would visit her for a few hours.

Almost a month after Ellie had moved in, the court date for custody came up.

Cathy and Monica walked to the front while I hung back – with Emma's boss.

I finally saw Emma's parents – an exceedingly well groomed man with perfect hair and a five thousand dollar suit, alongside of an aristocratic grey haired woman in Vera Wang. They excluded wealth and power. And I could see why Emma had said she was surprised they'd managed to actually have sex to create her. They clearly disliked each other.

After their lawyer wound down, I was gestured forward. Emma's father eyed me with surprise. Obviously his people had failed him – after all, they should have looked into why Cathy, Monica and Ellie had moved in with me.

At the Judge's prodding I produced the DNA reports, and explained that Emma's misguided attempt to protect my career had kept me in the dark about Ellie.

Their lawyer tried to recover "So your work presents a danger to the child?"

I shook my head "No, I no longer work in cover assignments – there will be no safety or instability issues."

The Deputy Director went on record to support my assertion.

I further explained that Cathy and Monica were willing to assist me until Emma recovered.

The end judgment was essentially inevitable. Emma's father listened with the emotionless eyes of a shark – but her mother's blue topaz eyes seemed to radiate loss. As soon as the judge walked out, so did Emma's father, a cloud of assistants and lawyers trailing in his wake like debris pulled along by a current.

Emma's mother stood in shock, just a driver standing next to her.

I walked over. "You are welcome to visit on Sundays. It's a farm though, so you'll probably want a pair of jeans and some boots. Call first."

She looked at me gratefully, eyes welled with tears. "Th... Thank you. I tried to raise Emma the way I had been raised, but her temperament was different. I know I made mistakes with Emma, but I didn't realize how much she resented... resented everything. Until it was far too late to fix. I'd like to be in my granddaughter's life, even if only a little."

I gave her driver the address and phone number.

The very next Sunday, she came by, after calling. And every Saturday after.

Evelyn. Her name was Evelyn. And she was brilliant.

She wore jeans – a little too new – and boots – a little too fancy - and a plain t-shirt. And she showed up every Sunday. Without fail. Ellie took her on horse trails, picnics and built bonfires.

Evelyn and her husband had not married for love- they were essentially pushed together to build a dynasty. On the day they married, the DJIA jumped 253 points. But they basically lived separate lives and much to her husband's disappointment, Emma turned out to be an only child – due to his health issues rather than hers. After he gave her a social disease, her efforts to produce another heir ended. Divorce simply wasn't an option – the financial quake would have been disastrous.

Evelyn had houses in France, Portugal and New York, but she realized what she had lost with Emma and was determined to make up for it. She added an apartment in Falls Church. She put her foot down to stop Emma's father from pursuing any more legal – or illegal – actions. She let him know that if he pursued it further, she would divorce him and let the damage be done. Which was fine with me, as my menu of options went quickly to the dark side of human nature.

It was another three months before they let Emma fully wake up. And when she did we were there, Ellie sitting on the edge of her bed, me in the back corner of the room.

Wordlessly, she pulled Ellie in close and held her for a very long moment, tears streaming. I stayed back while she hugged Cathy and Monica. I let them talk.

Her clear blue eyes settled on me and widened. Her mouth formed a tiny "o".

Finally "I'm so sorry."

Cathy and Monica scooped Ellie from the room, leaving us alone together.

"Sorry for what?"

"For not telling you I was pregnant. For not telling you about Ellie.

"I can understand – you were up front about how you felt about our careers. You were trying to protect me as much as Ellie. I'm not saying it didn't hurt or that I'm happy to have missed her first five years."

She obviously didn't know what to say to that and a silence began to build.

She started again, hesitantly "I kept having dreams about you."

I smiled down at her and sat on the edge of the bed next to her. "I was here reading to you about three days a weeks for the last few months."

I reached over and took her hand.

She smiled softly, almost shyly. "I missed you so much. I should have... " she paused "I don't know. I don't know how to make this up to you."

I shook my head "We'll have plenty of time to figure things out. Ellie will be glad to get you out to the house."

She looked a confused, so I had to explain about Cathy and Monica moving out to the house with Ellie.

Her mouth tightened in anger when I explained about their lease – and dropped open in disbelief when I told her about Evelyn's visits.

It didn't take much argument at all to convince her to move in to the farm house, given the united front she face with Cathy, Monica, Ellie and me. And we smuggled Frankie in to support our claim. Which resulted in an epic chase through the halls and nearly got me banned from the hospital. Evelyn's status as a primary donor saved me too much trouble.

It took a month of Physical Therapy before she could come home with us. It was four months before she moved to my room. A move Ellie pushed for with all her heart.

And we were still "us" – whatever chemistry we had was unbreakable. The scars and lost foot didn't matter to me at all and that made Emma's path easier. She'd given up covert work because of Ellie, and now she accepted that she could no longer do field work. She began working in oversight and ended up working her way to EAD herself.

The hardest part for Emma was accepting Evelyn – it was 4 years, and two more children before she trusted her completely. We ended up with two more houses on the property – Cathy & Monica's house, and Evelyn's. Evelyn never wears Vera Wang anymore – but her jeans are well broken in. She still has expensive taste in boots though.

Ellie's first child – our grandchild – was only seconds old when I met her.

Her name is Elisa. And she's brilliant.

She has the brightest blue topaz eyes I've ever seen.