Thursday, May 11th “I’m an emotional recluse,” Julian Dupart remembered telling Ian Chase. His heart had remained in the stunning ivory casket. Resurrection vines crawled along the sprawling oak branches, forming a canopy above the Passebon family crypt. Julian approached, each step feeling heavier than the last. Carrying a large bouquet of white magnolias, he made his way to a stone bench. “Bonjour, Chérie. Happy Birthday. I brought your favorites.” The fragrant flowers rested beneath the name Delphine Passebon Dupart. Julian's hand moved in the sign of the cross, and he bowed his head in prayer. Inhaling, he said, “I have a new duty station. Ian is sending me to San Diego.” A memory of a conversation from 1994 floated in on the Louisiana mist. “Chérie, we’re going to San Diego.” He picked Delphine up and swung her around. “Julian, I’m so proud of you, Julian. A SEAL.” Delphine peppered his face with kisses. “Just know, I’m going to exterminate those toad women.” She brandished her protective claws in reference to the women who chased Navy SEALs. “Toad women? Chérie, they’re frog hogs. And you, Mrs. Dupart, will be my only one.” Giggles fell from her lips as he tossed her over his shoulder and headed toward their bedroom. At the grave site, the humid Louisiana air weighed him down. “Chérie, this is a big move. I’ll be the second- in- command of the entire San Diego branch. Del, I don’t know if I can do this without you,” his Cajun-accented voice cracked. “Jul-i-an?” a familiar voice called his name. A man and woman Julian had avoided for the last five years joined him. “Mère Genevieve and Père Marcel, bonjour,” Julian said, his body stiff as his in-laws enveloped him in a hug. Genevieve Passebon stepped back and took Julian’s face between her hands. “We’ve missed you. You look well.” “Genevieve, let him be. Julian, we brought a picnic; eat with us.” Marcel pointed to the bench Julian vacated. “It’s good to see you.” He nodded and sat. Julian stammered, “I’m sorry, I…” “There is nothing to apologize for. You are a very good man who loved our daughter in health and sickness. You never left her side. Pain runs through the heart like no other sense, but, Julian, the heart is one of our body’s miracles that can grow fresh circulation.” Doctor Marcel Passebon rubbed his own chest. “Delphine, shake some life back into this man.” Genevieve knelt before her daughter’s grave. “Now we eat.” Julian chuckled at his mother-in-law’s familiar refrain. She said it to him every time he returned home from a deployment. Control over his strained emotions was fraying. “There are three sandwiches inside the picnic basket. Were you expecting someone else?” “No, we knew you would be here. You have not missed a birthday. We watched and let you be.” Genevieve’s lips turned up. “Delphine wants you to know it is time.” Genevieve Passebon was a medical doctor, but she grew up in the deep backwaters of Louisiana, where she was raised as a faith healer or traiteuse. Delphine had also embraced those beliefs. The heaviness that had rested for five years beneath his breastbone lightened a bit. “My mom keeps me updated on everyone. Are you two going to slow down?” Julian sipped from a bottle of water. “Marcel retired from the hospital, and now he works with me at the community wellness center too.” Julian’s father-in-law’s hair had whitened, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes. “What is new in your life?” The afternoon went fast. Delphine’s parents and he included Delphine in their conversation as if she were present, and as the sun began to set, they packed up their picnic. Julian was the last to walk away from the grave. “Je t’aime, ma Chérie.” As they reached the parking lot, Genevieve turned and placed her weathered hands over Julian’s heart. “Jul-i-an, open your heart. There is room to love again.” Julian hugged his in-laws and promised to stay in touch. Maybe he would succeed this time. *** Thursday, May 26th - Washington DC Julian’s doorbell rang. “Come in.” He zipped his suitcase closed. “You do realize I could be a mass murderer?.” Martin “Farmer” Bailey teased his friend. “And you would be dead.” A MK-25 rested in his hand. “I thought I’d be getting a driver.” “What do I look like?” Martin dangled keys in his hand. “It’s not usual for the CEO of a company to drive a subordinate,” Julian joked as he dragged his bag off the table. “You take this one, and I’ll grab the other two.” As he locked the door, a memory of a different knock on the door crossed his mind. From the first time they met at a FOB in Iraq, Martin Bailey became a trusted friend. Under a billion-dollar restructure of the Chase Group, Chase Security would now be its own company, branded under the name Chase Security International, with Martin named as the new CEO, and Julian promoted to the Deputy Executive Director of CSI-San Diego. Five years earlier Thump, thump, thump. Martin pounded on Julian’s front door. “Jule, are you in there?” he yelled. Thump, thump, thump. His fist bounced hard against the wood. Martin pulled his key from his pocket and let himself in. It had been two weeks since Delphine’s funeral. Julian’s mother had called Martin after her son disappeared from their home without a word a week earlier.   Julian maintained a calm front throughout the funeral process, but after one step inside the darkened home, Martin knew differently. Julian always managed his alcohol intake, but now the former pristine home reeked of alcohol, dirty clothes, and stale pizza. “Jule, where are you?” Martin searched from room to room. Making his way up the steps, he entered the master bedroom. The bed was in complete disarray. “Jule?” He sighed. His friend was curled in a fetal position on the floor in Delphine’s closet, an empty bottle of bourbon clutched in his fist, a full bottle at his side. He sported days of beard and reeked of body odor; his usual twinkling blue eyes were dull and listless. “Merde, I miss her.” A wave of tears followed. “You’re gonna take it one day at a time. I’m here with you the whole ride.” Martin wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Together they cried and shared stories until dawn. The bottle sat full between them. Julian learned later that Martin made the call that saved him. With the support of professionals and his friends, Julian took his last drink and started his SMART recovery. On the car ride to the airport, Julian watched DC flow by. “How was the trip home?” Martin asked. “I saw my folks and met my new niece. I had a good talk with Del too. Her parents surprised me at the grave on her birthday, and we shared a meal.” No longer wearing a black mourning band, he looked at the sunburned mark on his wrist. “Her maman had a talk with me. ‘You cannot fill your heart with so much grief that you have no room for love.’ “As I was leaving, I could hear Del’s voice on the breeze,” Julian confided in Martin. “I worry I’ll forget what she sounded like. She told me, ‘I love the pilgrim soul in you.’ It’s from a Yeats poem. Mon frère, she made me a better man. I guess the shores of San Diego are calling a second time. It will be good to catch up with my brothers.” He exhaled a wistful breath. “I told you I’m with you the entire ride. Are you okay?” “The only easy day was yesterday, right? Are you ready?” “I guess that’s the question for both of us. I’m only a phone call or flight away.” Martin placed a small, laminated card in his friend’s hand. Julian stared down and smiled at the four points that were only initials on the card. B, C, M, L. Build and maintain motivation. Cope with urges. Manage thoughts, feelings and behaviors. Lead a balanced life. *** The Chase Group jet soared through the white marshmallow clouds. Julian sipped a cup of black coffee and read The San Diego Times. “Ian thought of everything. We have sunshine for the weekend.” He waved the paper at Eric Seton. Eric, a former Air Force parajumper, a nationally registered paramedic, and a certified physician assistant, who also held a master’s degree in healthcare administration, had been named as the new head of the San Diego branch’s medical center. He tapped his foot. “Julian, how can you drink coffee? My stomach is in knots.” “Deep, slow breaths, mon ami. All of us are on the same ship. Launch the lifeboats.” His chuckle rumbled inside the cabin. “I never realized you were such a smartass.” Eric’s lips turned up. “Look, worst case scenario, we fail, and we end up on the street, homeless.” Julian smirked. “We are all well -qualified. We have until October second to get things under control.” *** “Walter,” Lila Smythe Dupree called for her butler. Her heels clicked on the marble steps of her Charleston, South Carolina, waterfront home. “Yes, ma’am.” The elderly employee appeared at her elbow. “Where is that yellow envelope I left here?” She knocked on the antique console table. “Ma’am, I didn’t see an envelope. I will keep my eyes open and alert the rest of the staff.” “Thank you. Have you seen Colton?” “He’s at the boathouse. Anything else, ma’am?” “No.” Lila walked out into the spring air. The azaleas were in bloom, and landscapers were trimming the shrubbery. Proceeding down a long, flower- lined cobblestone path toward the Elliot Cut, she found Colton Smythe. Lila's eldest child, lean and muscular in a visually appealing package, he was sunning himself beside their saltwater pool, listening to music. “Colton, what are you doing?” He removed one earbud. “Hello, Mother. I’m running a marathon.” She tapped her foot. “Colton, you’re not even packed. Your plane leaves at five.” “Fine, Mother.” He replaced the earbud in his ear. Lila frowned and headed back to the house. Colton closed his eyes and listened to the song. He slid his hand into his swim trunks and fantasized to the voice of singer Holly D., “Soon, dear sister.” *** San Diego “Dr. Behrens, welcome to Hillcrest.” The perky administrator looked the handsome man up and down. “I’m happy to be here.” Colton smiled at the physician recruiter. “I’m looking forward to participating in your robust fellowship program.” “Very good. Your orientation and hospital system credentials should be complete by June fifteenth. Does a July first start date work for you?” She licked her lower lip. Colton laughed. “Are you trying to tell me I’m a beginner?” “Not at all. How are you settling in?” the recruiter asked. “I close on my new home tomorrow.” *** “Tag?” Julian asked. “You in town?” Taggart Dupart answered. “Just landed.” Julian tipped his sunglasses over his eyes. “I’m heading into a meeting. Listen, I left a key in the condo management office for you. Dump your stuff, relax, and we can get some dinner when I get done.” “I appreciate you putting me up until I have a permanent place to set my head down. If it’s too much, I can stay in a hotel.” Julian’s shoulders shrugged. “Enough, big brother, I want to catch up.” Julian typed the address for Taggart’s condominium into his GPS. He stopped at the rental office for the key and let himself into his brother’s Spanish-style second-floor condo. Windows surrounded an open living room, dining room and kitchen area. Julian dropped his bags and picked up a note on the breakfast bar. Bedroom with blue comforter is yours. Sheets are clean. Julian put his stuff in his assigned room. He changed into shorts and a t-shirt, grabbed a bottle of water, his electronic tablet, and a pad and pen before he made his way onto the deck, where a glass-topped, wrought-iron table and chairs was positioned on a terrazzo floor. “Okay, Dupart. Let’s make a plan.” Pen to paper, he outlined his to-do list. A meeting with Ian and Kieran before he left DC made him uneasy. “What do you think about the changes? Kieran and I think this position is perfect for you,” Ian said. “The position or the location?” Julian’s jaw muscles tensed. “Both.” “You sound sure.” “We are. If you want me to regurgitate your resume: you have a bachelor’s degree in economics from the US Naval Academy; US Navy SEAL, Rank Lieutenant Commander; master’s degree in security studies from Georgetown. You have leadership and supervisory experience in the military and civilian arenas. You’re a superb tactician. Your sixth sense is uncanny. And you have the ability to charm people like no other. Why wouldn’t I be sure?” Ian shrugged. “Because I’m an emotional recluse.” “Jule, we hope being near your family will be a bonus, but we want you there for professional reasons. We are getting some negative feedback coming out of San Diego,” Kieran said. What kind of negative feedback?” Julian sat up higher in his seat. “Level of medical care is spotty. Security clients having issues. Mini fires Tony puts out when they are brought to his attention.” Kieran spoke of Tony Olivetti, the current head of the San Diego Division. “What does Tony say?” “He says he’s looking into things, fixes the immediate issue, but then a new one pops up. I think he’s overloaded and won’t say.” Ian worried his lip. “Alright, I’ll keep my eyes open.” “We have a short window. San Diego is going to take over as the flagship of the organization. With the new buildings, you will have the largest footprint in the organization.” Kieran gave him a tight smile. “And the largest responsibility, besides Martin.” Julian cocked his head. “And the largest responsibility, period. Kieran and I will give you whatever resources you need.” “I’ll make my assessment and let you know. Does Tony know, besides the promotion, you want me to take a look around?” Julian’s eyes locked on his bosses. “No,” the Chase brothers said in unison. On the deck, Julian signed into the San Diego management system. He hated computers, but his superior memory allowed him to remember usernames, passwords and operating instructions with ease. It also gave him the ability to attach names to titles and faces. Following Ian’s suspicions that Tony was overwhelmed, he looked at Tony’s upper command. Julian was locked in concentration when Taggart slid the glass doors to the deck open. “Hey.” Julian stood to embrace his brother. Taggart was a lieutenant in charge of the Special Investigations Unit for the San Diego Police Department. “Hey, little brother.” “Before we start to talk, dinner. I missed lunch. I’m starving. We can do take out or go out,” Taggart said. “Do you mind if we stay in?” Julian suppressed a yawn. “Take out it is. You still like Thai?” “Yeah.” Julian’s eyes brightened. The delivery arrived with a variety of seafood and steak with ground chili and garlic sauce, as well as a bunch of appetizers. “How was the flight?” “Great. I came in on the company jet with the new head of our San Diego medical division. It spoils you.” Julian chuckled. “I appreciate this. You have a really great place.” “Bro, you’re family.” He cocked his head., “This is a big move, I want to hear the whole story. How did you manage to get assigned to San Diego?” “I’m still trying to figure things out, but the short story is Ian and Kieran are reorganizing the company, and they know I have family here. At the beginning of May, they called a meeting, and here I am. Saturday, early, Eric and I have an appointment at the Chevy dealership downtown to grab our company car and with a realtor right after. You working?” “If you’re asking if I want to go with you, I’m in. Holy shit. A car. Are they buying the house too?” “They are facilitating the house hunting. Buying a place, not sure.” “What do you really do?” Taggart cocked his head. Julian had protected his family from what he did for a living, but now living close to them, he wouldn’t be able to. “The brochure answer is ‘The Chase Group is a high-end private security company, providing personal escorts, executive protection, providing mission support, security and training services to US and multinational corporations worldwide, as well as venture capital investments that support pro bono work.’ It cleared eight billion last year. “The re-organization is breaking off the security division and creating a separate medical division. As of the May meeting, I became the number two person in San Diego.” Julian stared out at the view. “The private face is…well… it’s called the Eagle’s Talon. It started with Ian and Kieran plus fifteen of us doing the routine stuff in between performing homeland security missions and providing non-traditional government intelligence and defense work at home and abroad.” “Non-traditional.” Taggart worked naval intelligence before he became a cop. “What’s your security clearance?” “Couillon.” Julian threw a shrimp at him. “If you must know, top secret with sensitive compartmentalized information with counterintelligence and full scope polygraph, DoD Q clearance and Yankee white clearance.” Julian used finger quotes to describe the nickname for presidential clearance. Taggart gagged. “I did ask, and. I’ll ask another annoying question. You don’t have to tell me, but how much do you make?” “Salary before the new position: eight-fifty. Now, one point five. Both plus perks. You do know, Mom and Dad were right, It doesn’t buy happiness.” “You miss her..” “Every day. It’s not as painful anymore.” Julian fingered the ring he wore around his neck. They finished their dinner, and, exhausted, Julian called it a night. Taggart’s guest room was simply furnished. Julian opened his briefcase and took out the one possession he brought everywhere. Delphine’s face smiled up at him. “Hello, Chérie. One day at a time, right?” The memory was still sharp. “Mr. Dupart, I’m so sorry. Delphine is out of time. Even if a heart becomes available, her other organs are failing,” the cardiologist said. “I don’t want her to suffer. Please.” Julian took a deep breath and returned to his wife’s side. “Bonjour, ma Chérie.” He lifted the oxygen mask and kissed her parched lips. “Jul-i-an.” Delphine Passebon Dupart smiled at the man she had loved from high school. “Promise…me.” The mask fogged with her exertion. Her hand struggled to reach his. “Shh.” Julian laced his fingers with hers. “I’m here.” “Jul-i-an, please. You…need…to…promise…me, you… will… find… someone… to… love…again,.” Delphine pleaded. “Do not…be alone. Julian’s eyes misted. “I promise.” He brushed her tears away. At dawn, Delphine took her last breath. “Del, I know you are watching. I’ll try.” He placed her framed photo on the night table, turned off the light and fell asleep.