Sorrels Long Journey To Love Ch 09

Sorrel lay in bed, half asleep, half awake. The sun was just beginning to peak through the curtains. It was going to be another beautiful spring day. Someone or something had been touching, no tickling, her feet. She peered down and saw Fletcher. He'd sneaked upstairs while everyone else was asleep.

"Hello sleepy head," he said.

She yawned and spread her arms out, causing the white nightie she'd slept in to stretch tautly across her breasts, "Good morning to you."

He climbed up, crawled across the bed, and lay down beside her, he on the outside, and she on the inside of the covers. He took his hand and wiped several loose fronds of hair from her face, "Did you know I love you?"

She leaned around and kissed him, "I love you more."

He smiled, "But I still love you a lot."

They cuddled for a few moments. Fletcher was ready to make love again, but Sorrel pushed him away, "I have to pee, and I bet my breath smells like an open sewer."

He sat up on the side so she could get up, "Your breath could never be bad."

"Yeah right", she said, as she toddled toward the bathroom.

Fletcher lay back on her bed and listened while she peed, brushed her teeth, gargled, and put her hair up in a ribbon. He thought, 'some things, like gargling, can never be sexy.' He heard her turn on the shower. 'This is my big chance.' He got out of the bed and moved to the bathroom. Damn it! She'd locked the bathroom door, "Sorrel open up. I need to pee."

"I'll be out in a minute. Why don't you use the downstairs toilet? Make some coffee while you're there."

'Damn,' he thought, 'she's still wound just a little too tight,' "OK, I'll see you downstairs." He thought about hiding in the room, and jumping out at her when she came out. But he changed his mind. This was going to be a tough day for the both of them as it was. Best to start things slow. He got up, left the room, and tooled on downstairs.

A few minutes later Sorrel made it downstairs. Knowing she was to go out with Ms. Henderson sometime today she'd dressed for the occasion, wearing a two piece navy blue slack and jacket outfit and a minimally lacy white blouse with a modestly plunging V-neck.

She asked, "How do I look?"

"Going out with Ms. Henderson today are we?"

"You didn't answer my question." She walked to the refrigerator. They'd started buying the new microwave bacon, and she thought she'd heat up a couple pieces. A little bacon with toast and some coffee might see her through what she expected to be a tedious day, "So answer me. Do I look all right?"

Fletcher thought she looked very professional, like the days when she worked at the company, "You look very professional even a little intimidating. Florence won't know how to behave."

Then he saw she wasn't wearing any earrings, "Let me get something for your ears." He stepped back into his little bedroom.

Sorrel sipped her coffee and nibbled on some toast. The bacon never got cooked. It looked a little too greasy.

Fletcher came back in, "Here try these on." He handed her a pair garnet ear studs.

Sorrel accepted them a little reluctantly, "Who did these belong to?"

"They were Diana's."

Sorrel looked them over like they were some kind of rare treasure. She got a quick undisguised glimpse of Fletcher's face before he covered it up with a mask of congeniality. She realized they were a rare treasure; something on which he placed great personal value.

Sorrel took each stud and affixed them to her ears, "Thank you Fletcher."

He was looking at the earrings, "You're very welcome."

He started talking, partly to make sure they were both on the same page, but partly to mask his feelings, "Today you're out with Florence. I wonder what she's up to. I'm headed for the airport. I'll be late getting home, and I expect I'll have some extra baggage coming back.

Sorrel knew he meant her children, "Are you sure you want to do this. Maybe we should wait and go together."

Fletcher sat at the table, and slurped up some more coffee, "No your husband knows I'm coming. I'm bringing them home today."

Sorrel sat down at the other end of the table, "I think you're kind of a special person you know that?"

He got up and walked the distance that separated them, "This is my home. You're going to marry me. The sooner we get started the better. That means bringing your son and daughter home as soon as possible."

I don't recall you asking me to marry you."

"Will you marry me?"

Sorrel stood up. She moved in so that she was standing between his still downward hanging arms. She took her two hands and placed one on each side of his face. She leaned up and kissed him. Then placing her head on his chest, as he wrapped his arms around her, she answered, "Yes."

He took her chin and lifted it to kiss her. Just as he was puckering up they both heard the raucous laughter and trundling footsteps of three children.

Sorrel pushed him away. Laughing nervously, "We'll have to watch what we do more closely." She slipped away toward the doorway, as the three youngsters all bounded in.

Marion was first on the floor, "What's up today?"

Fletcher answered, "Sorrel has a date with Ms. Henderson, and I'm on my way to pick up two more kids."

"Can I come," announced Robert?

"Yeah me too," said Richard.

Marion hollered, "I'm going with Sorrel."

Fletcher put his sock shod foot down, "No, none of you is going anywhere. You all need to clean your rooms. Marion Sorrel's daughter will put up with you for a night or two starting tonight, and you guys had better make room for Peter."

For the next several minutes there was the customary grumbling about not needing to clean anything, where they were going to sit at the table, who was eating what for breakfast, and how long would they have to wait to see their new friends.

Fletcher helped clarify one situation, "Sorrels children won't be just your new friends. They're going to be your new brother and sister."

All the noise came to a crashing stop. Marion asked, "You and Sorrel are getting married?"

Fletcher responded, "If that's all right with you."

The boys didn't have much to say. They just looked back and forth at each other and at their father.

Marion did have something to say. She looked at her father and at Sorrel, "It's OK with me. In fact I think it's probably a good idea." Then she got a concerned look on her face, "What happens to Mary?"

Sorrel didn't give Fletcher a chance to answer, "More dishes in the dishwasher? More clothes on the clothes line? Three extra places at the table. I guess we'll have to put a leaf in."

Marion looked back and forth, "We're not making her leave."

Sorrel jumped, "Absolutely not! She's... Well she's... She'd like ..." Sorrel was getting borderline shrill, "She been like my mother. More than a mother. I love," she corrected herself; "We love her."

Mary had been standing just outside the kitchen and had heard everything. It delighted her to hear Sorrel speak so fondly. She stepped into the kitchen, "Good morning everybody. What's up?"

Robert answered, "Dad and Sorrel are getting married."

Richard added, "And Sorrel's children are coming to live here."

Mary smiled, "Well you guys better get your room cleaned up." She looked at Sorrel, "We'll need a bigger table."

Sorrel smiled, "Yes ma'am."

Fletcher stumbled around, "I better get dressed. I have a flight to catch." He padded off to his side bedroom.

Sorrel followed him and closed the door behind her as she walked in, "That went pretty well."

He pulled her in his arms and kissed her.

She kissed him right back, but didn't let him take it anywhere. She was dressed to go out.

Florence arrived a little after 10:00. She honked her horn, and Sorrel went out and got in her car.

Florence's demeanor was cool, but not unfriendly. She asked, "You ready for a couple meetings?"

"I guess so," was the response.

They drove along for about ninety minutes. They went into the city, then across town to a southern suburban location. Florence pulled into a large parking lot, "We get out here."

"Where are we going," Asked Sorrel?

Florence didn't have much to say by way of an explanation, "You're taking a polygraph."

Sorrel didn't overtly respond, but in fact she was delighted. What better way to prove her innocence. She'd thought about the same thing before, and had wondered why no one had suggested it.

They went inside to a private detective agency, a large one with several offices; quite an elaborate operation. The tester was there and ready to proceed. He proffered a chair, offered the usual explanations, and asked Florence to step out of the room.

The questioning process ran the gamut from her childhood, her children, her personal preferences, and her work experiences. Laced in the array of inanity were the critical questions directly and indirectly related to the allegations about Sorrel's possible criminality.

The test took longer than she expected, but overall she felt comfortable with the results. The questioner maintained a bland demeanor throughout the process. At its conclusion he took the paper content that had accumulated and disappeared. Returning shortly he announced she was through, and her escort was waiting outside.

Sorrel returned to the outer area to find Florence waiting, "it's nearly 1:00. Would you like to go to our next stop, or would you prefer lunch?"

Sorrel asked, "What's next?"

Florence answered, "A second polygraph."

This upset Sorrel. She was convinced the results of this test were favorable, "Why another?"

Florence answered, "Just a precaution."

"Then if it's all right with you, let's do the second test."

Florence politely smiled and agreed. They returned to the car, drove another thirty minutes to a second location, another private agency, and Sorrel took a second test, with many of the same questions, but quite a few new ones too.

After the second test Florence asked if Sorrel was ready for lunch.

Sorrel at first declined, but Florence insisted. Sorrel could hardly say no, so they went to a nearby eatery. Both ordered a club sandwich and a coke. It was at lunch where Florence tried to open up.

Looking over the dessert menu Florence commented, "We've put you through a great deal Sorrel."

Sorrel wasn't feeling charitable, "Yes you have."

"It wasn't all my idea you know."

Sorrel played it close to the vest, "Fletcher told me."

"The whole thing was sort of dumped in my lap. Then the brothers started planning revenge. I guess I was just sort of pulled along."

Sorrel wanted to cut to the chase, "How did I do on the polygraphs?"

"Oh come on. You know." Florence wanted to say something. She wanted to tell her about her life. Her problems, her life hadn't been all that great. She felt like she'd given her whole life away, and nobody seemed to care, "Sorrel I'm just very sorry. I did what I was told; said what I was told to say."

Sorrel wanted to forgive her, but she remembered the mean things she'd said. She also remembered the mean thing Fletcher did, "I guess you weren't any better or any worse than Fletcher or Warren. So what happens now?"

Florence responded a little despondently. She'd hoped she could make amends somehow, but it didn't seem possible, "I take you back to Fletcher's. I have a copy of each polygraph for you. The originals I'm taking to Warren."

Sorrel told her, "Fletcher and I are getting married."

This was a crushing announcement for Florence. With Fletcher married to Sorrel it was inevitable that their vengeance would fall on her, "I'm happy for you. Once we get this cleared up I'll resign. There are other companies."

Sorrel was taken aback, "Why would you resign?"

"You'll want to get rid of me I'm sure."

"Why?" asked Sorrel.

"For what I've said; what I threatened, I mean."

Sorrel saw the pain written on Florence's face. This was a broken woman, "No Florence I couldn't allow that. The company needs you too much. Plus it would just be wrong. I think maybe, in some ways, you're as big a victim as I've been. No one wants you to leave."

Florence wasn't very much consoled, but she thanked her anyway.

They finished their lunches, and drove back in silence. Once they got back to Fletcher's Sorrel added, "I'll expect you at my wedding. Afterward we'll eat cake together, and after that Fletcher and I will have you over as our guest. You hear me Florence?"

Florence smiled wanly, "Yes, thank you." She drove away, still unsure, and very uncertain. Her career was a shambles, and she knew someone was still out there, someone who'd tried to steal and pass the blame. 'OK', she thought, 'Maybe I can still be of some use.'

Fletcher drove to the airport where he met two lawyers, the men who'd worked out the arrangements for the quiet transfer of residency of two young children. All three boarded the plane together. Fletcher sat in the middle of a three seat configuration while the other two men handed and explained the paperwork to him. It looked like an uncomplicated arrangement. The childrens' father was to be provided for very generously.

The essential gist of the whole arrangement involved a transfer of residency, plus an uncontested, quickie, divorce. The children would be moved from the father's immediate care to their mother's. There was to be no loss of filial rights; the children would move and the father would be reimbursed.

The financial package was generous. Dan, the father, would be offered child support at the double the rate normally payable, and the payments would continue until the younger child turned twenty-five, not eighteen. Additionally, Fletcher was prepared to hand the man a hefty one time gift of several thousand dollars and a new truck. To be sure, Dan was to be paid handsomely simply for not challenging the physical relocation of his children.

Fletcher had arranged some additional legal matters; all of which were highly favorable to the father. Dan would be granted weekly visitation rights; air transport to and from his residence to Sorrel's to be paid in full. In fact Fletcher fully intended to offer the tickets in advance. Should the children's father be unable to make the trip, he could cash in the tickets. Fletcher doubted their father would be able to resist the temptation to collect the ticket money.

The only thing that could threaten Dan's receipt of all the beneficence Fletcher offered was the least attempt to interfere in the lives of the children. One false step and all arrangements came off the table. Suspecting the father's lack of motivation and the obvious evidence of neglect, Fletcher bet Dan would never interfere.

The plane touched down. Fletcher thanked his two traveling companions, saw them back aboard a returning flight, rented a car and sped off to the father's residence.

Fletcher arrived shortly after 4:00, rang the bell, and was ushered into their shabby living room by Clara. Both Dan and Clara knew Fletcher was coming, and they had the children dressed and ready. Fletcher and Dan sat down at their dinner table and went over all the paperwork. Fletcher enjoyed seeing the greedy glint in the father's eyes as each proposal passed before him. The father's only reservation related as to the make and model of pick up truck he might select. Fletcher placed no limit on that.

There were some places for signatures. Sorrel's wasn't needed, as she had given Fletcher limited power of attorney. The entire process took less than an hour.

With everything signed and sealed all that was left was the delivery. The children had been sitting quietly in the living room, waiting.

Fletcher walked in, "Children, are you ready to go see your mother?" He could tell they were both terrified.

He walked over and knelt on the floor in front of the two kids, "I know it's been a long time, but you two are coming with me today. My name is Fletcher Hanson. I'm a very close friend of your mother. You're coming to live with us."

The little girl asked a question. She asked, almost in a whisper, "You're taking us away from our Daddy?"

He answered, "No, not all. You're just going to spend all your days and nights with your Mom from now on, but your Dad will come and see you every week." He looked over at the father, "Isn't that so?"

The father was eager to get the kids out of the house; too much money was at stake, "You bet. I'll be there every weekend."

The little girl looked at Fletcher. She whispered, "You know my Mommy?"

Fletcher already loved this little girl, "I know her very well. I love your Mommy. I'm going to marry her."

The little boy spoke up. His voice was frail, weak, "You'll be our new Dad."

Fletcher was careful, "I'll be your second Dad, but I'll never take your real Dad's place." Fletcher pointed to the other man, "He'll always be your real Dad." Fletcher was getting fidgety. This was a lot more complicated than he thought. What of they refused to go?

The little girl looked scared, "Where are you taking us?"

Fletcher told her the name of the nearest city. He described the house. He told them about his three children and the pond, the woods, the barn, the lawn tractor, the dirt bikes, the kitchen, the dinner table, the cupboards, the bedrooms. He kept talking and talking, telling them everything he could think of; afraid if he stopped they'd refuse to leave.

The little girl asked, "Why didn't our Mommy come?"

Fletcher had planned for that one, "Your Mom had to fill out some legal papers for you today, and then she and the lady who's taken care of me were going to get the house fixed up." He added, "Your Mom's a little afraid you know."

The little girl asked, "What's she afraid of?"

Fletcher had an answer, "Your Mom loves you so much, but she's afraid you won't love her. She's afraid you'll turn her away. She afraid you're mad at her for leaving. She's very afraid you'll hate her."

Fletcher watched; the little boy must have some kind of attention deficit disorder, he couldn't stay focused, but the little girl was sharp, smart. She was older; maybe she had a better understanding. He needed her. If he got her, the boy would follow, he was convinced of that.

Fletcher watched the little girl too. She seemed to be rallying.

The girl spoke up, very quietly but very clearly. Looking out of the corner of her eye at her father, and speaking low enough so he couldn't hear, "I know why she left."

Fletcher, appreciating the horrific inference of the little girl's comment, only nodded.

The girl asked, "When we leave here, we'll never have to come back?"

Fletcher told her the truth, "Your mother loves you powerfully and deeply. All she wants to do is shower you with kisses and hugs." He could see he was getting through, "But if you decide you want to come back and live with your Dad, she won't stop you. It would break her heart though."

Little Sorrel started talking, "I remember my Mommy. I remember her from always. I used to dream about her, that she'd come and get us, how she'd be rich and beautiful, she'd take us away, and we'd all to live in a grand palace."

Fletcher touched the girl's hand, "She is rich, and she is beautiful. You look just like her. I'm here to take you to her. She's waiting for us right now. The house, well it's not exactly a palace, but your mother and I like it, and I think you'll like it too."

The little boy was paying attention again, "Can I have a dog?"

Fletcher remembered Diana's dog. She'd had a big yellow lab. It had died a few months after his wife. It was very old, maybe thirteen. Since then he'd felt funny about having any other dogs even though his kids wanted one. He smiled, "Yes, you can have a dog."

The little girl asked, "You're not going to hurt us?"

Fletcher wasn't surprised; he realized they didn't know him. This was probably the scariest thing they'd ever done. He answered, "No, I'll never hurt you. For one thing I have my own three children. And your mother, she'd kill me. No I'll never ever hurt you. No one will."