Taking Flicka To Bed
Dieter Schwarz
The passports will be a problem,
And we should have talked about them.
As Dieter carried Flicka in his arms to the bed, he thought that he should tell her about the passports.
Tomorrow, they would be traveling on those passports, and she needed to know.
The names on the passports were the problem.
The very large problem.
Giving Flicka time to acclimate to the names on both passports would be a good idea. Everyone needs time to adjust to information like that, especially in case a snooping customs official asked about her birthdate or where she was born.
Plus, there was the problem of the picture on it.
Giving them both time to adjust to the name on Dieter’s passport would be an even better idea.
She would have questions, and he couldn’t answer them.
It would be smart to talk about the passports.
Dieter rested his forehead against Flicka’s temple as he carried her the few steps to the bed. Her body felt lighter in his arms than he remembered when they had lived together in London, and her ribs felt almost frail through her shirt.
The blouse was one that she’d bought that afternoon while shopping. He’d had that wad of operational cash in small, well-worn Euros, and when Flicka had found something she liked, he’d doled out the money and bought it for her.
Every purchase had been a delight.
First of all, her shopping had impressed him. The clothes she’d selected were nice stuff that fit him well, much better than anything he managed to buy for himself. The price for every one of them was less than he usually spent, too, and she’d bought them three outfits each. She was good at shopping.
But also, that money that he’d dutifully spent on whatever she’d wanted was Rogue Security money, which meant it washis.He had built Rogue Security and earned that money, and spending the money on her and making her smile pleased him.
Every item had earned him a grin.
He’d even forgotten himself and gotten a little silly while he tried the clothes on for her.
Every minute had salved his shredded heart.
The last of the summer sunlight fell through the window, and Dieter held Flicka in his arms until she stopped trembling and her body melted against his.
He couldn’t wish away the last two years. Alina was half his heart, and he wouldn’t pretend his daughter didn’t exist. His soul would cave in.
But for Flicka, for one night, he could rewind the years and believe.
