The Mountain

"I'm sorry, Betty," I said softly, "I would have wished you didn't see this." She now knew why I had asked her to leave. I wondered why she hadn't told the Marshals. I wasn't worried about an assault charge, beyond the time it would keep me away from Tamara and Melina.

Betty pointed to the corner of Doug's desk. I could see the pain in her eyes. I walked over to the small stack of stapled sheets of paper. "He asked me for that this morning," Betty said, then broke down. It was our reciprocal life insurance policy. "I didn't know why he wanted it," she added as tears overwhelmed her. I looked at Doug's prone form as it started to stir. The bastard didn't even wait until I was reported dead.

Moretti moved quickly to Doug's side. I think he feared I would go at him again. I just smiled knowing Doug was done and took a step back to ease Moretti's fears.

"Mr. Finley," Moretti said louder than necessary, "do you know where you are?" Doug nodded and said something about the office.

"Mr. Finley, I am agent Moretti of the U.S. Marshall's office," Moretti continued, "I have a warrant for your arrest and an order for extradition as requested by the Peruvian government." I could see the realization of what was happening roll across Doug's bloody face. I couldn't help myself.

"I would fight the extradition with every dollar you have Doug," I added with glee, "I know a Colonel down there that wants to meet you. He was supposed to be on the same plane as I was." The idea of Doug bankrupting himself on lawyers and still ending up in a Peruvian prison made karmic sense to me. Doug's breathing was coming in gasps, and it wasn't driven by what I did to him. It was his predicament coming home to roost.

Moretti began reading Doug his rights as I watched his eyes lose their strength. I had never fed off someone's loss before. My mind reveled in his downfall. I felt vindicated and empowered. And then, like the flip of a switch, I felt like shit.

People died. More almost died. Physical pain and freedom deprivation would never make up for it. Doug deserved everything he got, but even death would do nothing to rectify what he had done. I let Doug go. Not physically, but mentally. He wasn't worth the brain power and certainly not worth losing myself and living in a personal cesspool of hatred.

"Maybe we should step outside and let these guys work," I mentioned softly to Betty. She wiped her eyes and nodded. "I need to tell you about my daughter," I added and wiped my own eyes. Hatred chewed up way too much energy.

++++++++++++++++++++++

"Why she send flowers?" Tamara demanded in Armenian. For some reason, Florencia had sent flowers to me at Yana's address, the one I had given to Emilio for the time being.

"It's nothing," I said. It was hard to explain over the phone. I thought Tamara would be happy I was flying home to her the next day. Instead, she thought I was entertaining another woman. I had to work on her trust. I certainly wasn't a Don Juan, and I already had the most beautiful woman in the world.

"I can't read letter." Tamara said stiffly. I couldn't remember if I mentioned the language barrier between Tamara and me to the Campos'. It was probably in English since they knew my Spanish sucked.

"Get Viktoria," I suggested. I heard doors opening. I could tell Tamara was walking down the hall. There was a brief conversation after Viktoria answered the door. I could hear the pain in Tamara's voice. I wished I was there.

Viktoria started laughing as she deciphered the letter. I could hear Tamara demanding to know what was so funny. Viktoria spoke quickly with humor in her voice. There was silence after she was done speaking. I heard Viktoria chuckle again Tamara told her to stop it.

"I love you," Tamara said quietly in the phone. There was a little embarrassment in her voice. I tried not to force the issue.

"I love you, too," I returned, almost making it sound like a question.

"You home tomorrow?" Tamara verified.

"Yes," I replied, "11:35 PM." It was going to be a long two days of travel.

"Meet you at airport," Tamara said. I think my Armenian was getting better. I no longer had to think hard during simple translations. I almost told her not to, but her tone made it important to her.

"Good," I said, "I will see you tomorrow."

"I love you," Tamara repeated. There was more contrition in her voice.

"I love you too," I responded before disconnecting. I had no idea what was in the letter, but it obviously wasn't the love note she expected. I also knew that talking about it on the phone was not the route to take. I would find out when we were together again.

++++++++++++++++++++++

My parents took me to O'Hare airport. They were as shocked as I was about Doug. They had known him and his parents for many years. He was the last person we would have suspected to go all evil on the world.

No assault charges were brought. I suspected Doug didn't want to alienate me any more than he already had. He would need my signature to liquidate his holdings in F&B Imports to pay for his legal defense. I would sign anything that separated us further, including a loan to buy him out.

I promoted Betty to run the U.S. portion of the business. She had been doing most of the work as it was, and already had access to all the files and bank accounts. I let her hire her replacement, a fine young man that seemed driven to succeed. It meant a lot more money for her family and no more bombs on planes for me.

Betty's first task was to solidify a contract for Emilio's cousin. Her in-depth knowledge of the process made me question what Doug had been doing for the last few years. I found out Doug was in debt up to his eyeballs and in the process of buying a yacht when the boom came down. I suspected he was playing playboy on my dime and dumping the work off on Betty. I considered it on the job training for Betty.

My mother brought a small note from Kimberly with her. It was handwritten on a small flowery card that was usually reserved for thank-you notes.

Jonathan,

I'm sorry I lied about Tamara's whereabouts. It was selfish. I was hoping you would come back to me if you failed to find her. We weren't perfect, but we were better than lonely. Please ask Tamara to forgive me. Give your daughter my love.

Kimberly

"She was afraid to see you," my mother said as I finished the note. I thought about the hatred I had wasted on Doug. It seemed silly to expend more on Kimberly. I wondered if I wouldn't have done the same if the roles were reversed. I would like to think I wouldn't, but I never thought I would try to beat a man to death either.

"Do you have a pen?" I asked my mother. She fished one out of her purse and handed it to me. I added a note to the end.

Kimberly,

I could never hold it against you. The heart makes us do stupid things like loudly breaking up with a lovely woman in a public hospital. As a friend, I still love you dearly.

Jonathanv

I handed the note back to my mother and asked her to give it back to Kimberly. I found it funny that Tamara and I could share no language and yet understand each other perfectly. Kimberly and I needed a translator to function.

++++++++++++++++++++++

I was exhausted when I stepped off the plane in Yerevan. I was two hours behind schedule and wanted nothing but a shower and some sleep. Tamara changed those desires instantly. She was waiting at the end of the concourse, bouncing on her toes and waving when she saw me. I had no idea where the energy came from. My heart started pounding, and muscles woke up. I ran to her arms. I had almost forgotten how soft her lips were.

"Melina?" I asked. For some reason, I wanted to see her as well.

"Asleep with Meemaw," Tamara smiled, saying it like I was a fool to think she would bring a baby to the airport in the middle of the night. I laughed at myself before I enjoyed Tamara's precious lips again. It was so good to feel her arms around me.

The cab ride back to the Kurkjian buildings was quick. There was little traffic at that time in the morning, and Tamara was there to make sure the cabbie didn't take the long way. Tamara pulled a folded letter out of her jacket and handed it to me.

"I sorry," Tamara said. I could see it in her eyes. I unfolded the letter and turned on the overhead light.

Dear Tamara,

Your intuition has saved my love as well as yours. I send these flowers as a friend in hopes that we will find time to meet in the future. I wish to know well the person who has saved my precious family.

Florencia Campos

I laughed when I shouldn't have, but it was too delicious.

"I say sorry," Tamara insisted. I wrapped her in my arms again.

"No matter where I go, my love," I whispered in her ear, "I will never stray from you. You and Melina will always be first in my thoughts." Though it was in English, Tamara understood perfectly. Her smile returned with a little foolishness in her eyes. I thought it looked adorable.

++++++++++++++++++++++

Tamara and I slept in a bed designed for one in Meemaw's apartment. It was cramped but twice the size of the hovel on the mountain. It brought back a few memories of staying warm in the most wonderful way. It was Melina who woke us early the following morning. After she had been fed and changed, I spent a good part of the morning making her smile. She was getting stronger, raising up on her knees and rocking back and forth. I knew she was about to be independently mobile.

Yana cooked a large brunch for my return. The family gathered in her apartment and feasted while I explained, with the help of Viktoria, about what had happened the past week. Tamara had already passed on the gist of it, and I was only filling in the blanks. Yana was happy it was over and done with. She had resolved herself to an American son-in-law and didn't want it to change. The brothers wanted more details of my brief insanity. A blow by blow replay of my useless revenge.

I shocked everyone by asking Garik if he wanted to work for me. I had decided that I needed to limit my traveling since I had a family now, and Garik seemed to love the trip to Azerbaijani. I could hire him as an independent contractor with bonuses tied to the inking of deals. He was both excited and hesitant.

"What would I have to do?" Garik asked.

"Travel to find product," I replied, "I'd take you on a couple of trips to get you started. In time, you'll recognize what we're looking for and be able to head out on your own. You can hire interpreters when needed to get your through the negotiations."

"I can hire people?" Garik queried with reservation.

"In time, when necessary. You always need to keep in mind what the company will make and balance that with the fees you need to pay." I smiled, "and your own pay, of course."

"How will I know if it's the right stuff?"

"Our clients like to mix art with functionality. Uniqueness, a good history, and quality are what you need to look for. Usually, you start with a lead, so you're not traveling blind." I was mixing Armenian words with English. I was getting better at it, and Viktoria was having an easier time translating and Garik was grasping the concepts quickly.

"What do you mean about history?"

I thought about it for a moment. History was the marketing part that our clients loved so much. It was more in the presentation, the stuff they could tell their friends. I looked down, trying to figure out a way to explain it. The rug at my feet would be a good visual aide. It was certainly high enough quality and well made.

"Take this rug," I instructed, "it is very well made and has a wonderful design." I dropped to the floor and moved to the corner, lifting it back to look for a label. "A label sewn into the rug with a company logo or family crest helps give it history." There was no label, so I moved to another corner. "You want the name of the artist, maybe a sewn signature to give it a one-of-a-kind type of feel." Still no label.

"You will not find a label," Tamara said before I moved to another corner. I looked closely at the back of the rug. It had a very high knot count. The quality was excellent.

"This must have cost a lot," I mentioned in passing as I rose to continue the instruction. Yana chuckled, her face flushing.

"Mother made it," Tamara said as if I should have known. My eyes widened as I dropped back down to my knees and reexamined the craftsmanship.

"You made this?" I asked Yana.

"Yes," Yana replied. She was beaming with pride.

"She and Meemaw each make a few a year," Viktoria added, "They sell them to the families here." Victoria looked to Yana, "she sold the last one for 95,000 drams." Yana was still blushing, proud of her accomplishment. I did some quick math in my head, maybe 200 dollars.

"200 U.S. dollars?" I asked. Viktoria thought for a moment. Armen, whose math was better than mine, answered.

"About that, maybe a bit more," Armen said. He seemed proud of his mother and grandmother.

"Who taught you?" I asked Yana, my smile growing.

"Meemaw and her mother taught her," Yana replied.

"Mom is teaching me," Tamara added. She rose handing Melina off to her Armen. She walked over to the wall and began retracting the large accordion divider I thought was just decoration. An old loom in excellent condition was exposed with another rug about a third of the way done. I rose from the floor in awe.

"That is history!" I said to Garik, "add a few touches and that's what we look for."

"American's would want my rugs?" Yana asked.

"With the right documentation, they will pay thousands," I replied, "they want a piece of your story."

"I am nobody," Yana said, suddenly out of her depth.

"You are an artist from a long line of artists," I said almost laughing at what had hidden in plain site, "Your family history, as far as you can trace it back, is what they want. They want to know they are supporting that history and becoming part of it. You just have to list it out for them."

"You can teach me," Armen said to Yana. Davit pulled forward in his seat and began nodding his head as well.

"It can be Garik's first successful contract," I added. Tamara scooted in behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist.

"I love you," Tamara whispered in my ear as the conversation in the room began moving quickly, excitement infecting everyone. I turned in Tamara's arms, ignoring the questions being flung at me. I had a lifetime to answer them.

The world disappeared as I lost myself in Tamara's lips. We were back on the mountain, a blizzard we no longer cared about was raging around us. The only thing that mattered was the moment and that we held each other. A squeal brought our minds back to reality.

Melina was waving her arms in Armen' s lap, trying to join the excitement by yelling for attention. She was our new mountain, a storm we couldn't ignore. I laughed at her antics as I swept her into my arms. Life was good. Life was very good.

++++++++++++++++++++++

Tamara

++++++++++++++++++++++

"Are you sure?" I asked the doctor. My belly was barely showing, and I felt no different than when I carried Melina.

"I know my job, Mrs. Bennett," the doctor said, almost insulted. I smiled warmly while I tried to let the ramifications settle in my mind. I finished dressing as I thought how this would affect Jonathan. I knew now that I needn't fear him leaving me anymore. Those fears were borne from the initial interference of his mother...and Kimberly.

I hated the way that Kimberly looked at Jonathan at our wedding. She was so American and way too pretty. He didn't notice, but I saw it her eyes. I couldn't blame her, but I didn't have to like it. She said and did all the right things yet her eyes would linger on the man I held most dear.

The jealousy ended when she embraced me with tears in her eyes as she said goodbye. She said something I didn't understand, but we both knew why she was leaving the reception early. I also knew I would never see her again. She left as a friend, saying her goodbyes to me and not to Jonathan. She loved him enough to disappear. I could never leave him, so she was stronger than me...or never loved him like I did.

Jonathan's Armenian was growing stronger. I no longer needed to see his body language to understand him. I loved how his accent butchered the language. Every time he told me he loves me, my ears would do a little dance, and the little girl in me jumped up and down.

"You might have to revive my husband when I tell him," I informed the doctor. The doctor rose from his chair and smiled at me.

"A blessing in any form, is still a blessing," the doctor said as he put his clipboard off to the side. I wondered if that was true. I rubbed my growing belly and knew my love would be no different. The idea of it was warming in my mind. As the revelation finally took hold, I laughed. The doctor seemed pleased and chuckled himself.

I found Jonathan entertaining Melina in the waiting room. Ever since she started walking, Melina needed constant supervision. She had the Armenian tenacity mixed with American unbridled curiosity. Jonathan was busy building some kind structure with wooden blocks, and Melina was having a ball knocking it down. He was having as much fun as she was. It was some game they invented and only they knew the rules. How high could he make it before she pushed it over? I loved how he could make her laugh.

"Having fun?" I said, announcing my presence. Jonathan turned with a smile as Melina, once again, destroyed the structure he had been building. He rose quickly, sweeping Melina up in his arms.

"Mommy's done," He told Melina in his lovely Armenian. "And how is she doctor?" he asked. The doctor moved out from behind and winked at me.

"Very healthy," the doctor replied as he moved toward his office, "it is a good thing for a woman in her condition." He left swiftly, leaving me to break the news. I wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing.

"And how is Melina's brother or sister?" Jonathan asked. I tried to figure out how to tell him without freaking him out. He looked at me funny as I stalled for the right words. I knew he was reading my body language and already knew something was wrong. "Tamara?" He queried again, with a little fear in his voice.

"It may be both," I said, sucking in my breath.

"What?"

"Boy and girl or two of either," I said, watching his eyes travel through a million emotions, "the doctor only knows there are two."

"Twins?" Jonathan gasped, his eyes looking stunned. I moved forward to soften the blow and a smile formed on his lips, "Twins," he repeated, more to himself. He slid Melina to his left arm and pulled me in with his right. "Twins," he repeated dreamily as his lips found mine. I leaned into him and felt Melina kiss my cheek thinking it was a new game.

"They will drive us insane," Jonathan said humorously, "my mother is going to flip." His eyes found mine in that loving way he had. "We survived a plane crash; we can survive twins," he said, pulling the three of us tightly together.

A warmth spread over me. Memories of the first time Jonathan took me, warming the blizzard away and my fears with it. He looked at me with those same loving eyes. We could weather any storm, even twins.

"The mountain, my love," I said softly, "was the easy part."