Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously
Any other resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Capitol Hill - Summer of '22 Book VI - 1. Pool Party
“This is gonna be Liebe’s room when we move her out of the nursery.” Owen placed the suitcase he carried atop the chest at the foot of the bed. “Jesus, Mum, what do you have in here? Rocks?”
Holding her granddaughter in her arms, Pam shrugged. “I may have forgotten how hot it’s here in summer and over packed. I probably won’t wear most of what I brought.”
“Except for lunch at the club and dinner Saturday night, you can get away with shorts the rest of the time. Ozzie and I walk a lot, and during summer, we wear as little as possible. It’s not so much the heat as the humidity that kills you.” While the others rode the elevator, CJ had taken the stairs; he leaned against the door jamb with his arms crossed.
Owen’s parents, Geoff and Pam Liston, had flown into Washington for a week’s stay; their last visit had been in 2020 after their granddaughter was born. Originally scheduled to be in Mexico in early June, they rescheduled following Liebe’s kidnapping and rescue. The travel plan revision led to a stop in Napa to visit friends for a couple of days and catching a red-eye out of San Francisco.
Geoff glanced at CJ after placing the bag he carried next to Pam’s. “Aren’t you scared she’ll fall down the stairs if she’s here alone and wakes up in the middle of the night?”
Leaning away from Pam while extending her arms, Liebe delayed her father’s response. “Ceej, vamos a la piscina.”
“Not yet, Munchkin. The pool party starts after lunch. We’ll go next door after you eat and nap.” Owen lifted his daughter out of Pam’s arms before placing her on the ground and squatting next to the girl—a blatant attempt to distract her. “Who’s gonna move into this room?”
“Me!” Liebe ran to the bed and smacked the mattress with both hands. “I get new bed.”
“That’s right, Munchkin. And what are you not allowed to do when you move here?”
The girl pointed at the room’s entrance. “I can’t climb stairs.”
“You’re so smart.” CJ scooped her up and, serenaded by the girl’s squeals of delight, blew raspberries against her neck. “We’ve started training already, Geoff. Brad’s in the other room on this floor, and the dog will sleep here to keep an eye on her. We’ll also use gates to keep her put until she’s a bit more coordinated. But that shouldn’t be long; she already climbs them on hands and knees and lowers herself on her butt.”
“Your cousin and his wife live next door, right? They’re the ones with the pool Liebe wants to go to?” Once he saw CJ nod, Geoff opened the door to the adjoining bathroom and peeked inside. “I don’t know about you, honey,” he glanced at Pam, “but I could use a shower. What time’s lunch?”
“Don’t worry about that. We’ll eat whenever you guys want. CJ mentioned swimming after lunch because we use meals as time references with Liebe.” Owen pointed at the bathroom. “Towels are clean, and there are more stacked in the linen closet. Are you guys tired? Do you want to lay down for a bit?”
Pam and Geoff looked at each other and shook their heads. “We both slept most of the flight. I’ll freshen up while Geoff showers, and I’ll be out shortly.”
“Okay, we’ll be in the front room.” Lifting Liebe above his head, CJ shook her until she asked him to stop through her laughter. “Wanna go build something with the Legos?” Due to their small size and the choking potential, the fathers kept the plastic blocks locked. Liebe was only allowed to play with one of her fathers present. When alone, she had big Duplo bricks to build with.
Once his parents were done, Owen offered them a house tour. During their prior visit, Everhope had been a construction zone. Eventually, the grandparents joined Liebe on the floor when she asked them to help her build a castle. CJ and Owen sat on the couch, chatting with the visitors while allowing them uninterrupted time with the girl.
“I’m hungry.” Liebe’s comment a little later brought play and conversation to a halt.
CJ immediately stood. “Soup and sandwiches good for you guys? Dinner’s gonna be heavy.”
“Can I feed her?” Pam accepted CJ’s helping hand to stand.
Her son-in-law chuckled. “Yeah, good luck with that. You’re welcome to try, but your granddaughter likes to show her independence by feeding herself. You can definitely help clean her up after, though. She still uses her fingers a lot and most of the time makes a mess.”
“Hey, where’s Brad?” Geoff had taken Liebe in his arms when he rose from the floor.
Brad Kennedy was a close friend, someone CJ and Owen called a brother, who had moved into Everhope as caretaker when CJ was stationed at the U.S. embassy in Mexico City. Upon their return, he and Owen asked the former Army Ranger to remain a housemate until he graduated from college. The thought of someone else trained to fight and use firearms in the house was comforting after their recent ordeal.
“In school. This session, he only has classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but they’re full days. He’ll join us tonight. Then he’ll be away for the weekend. Since his girlfriend’s in New York, he goes up once a month, and she comes down on a different weekend. His turn to head to Manhattan. He’ll leave Thursday after classes.”
In the kitchen, Pam looked around, apparently trying to orient herself; compared to the one in their sprawling house in Australia, Everhope’s was small. “Don’t you get a lot of smoke and steam with the range where it is?” She pointed at the stovetop embedded in the island.
“Not really, Mum. It has a downdraft extractor that vents outside. Hey, CJ and I didn’t want to spend a lot of time cooking while you’re in town, so we prepped a few things yesterday. Cold lunch today. Chilled avocado soup and egg salad sandwiches on challah.”
“That sounds good. Are we eating here? Should I strap her in?” Geoff stood by the stool with a booster seat attached to it.
CJ glanced over from the open refrigerator door. “Yeah, go ahead. Munchkin, we’re having sandwiches. Do you want one too, or do you want a burrito?”
“Samvich.”
When Pan looked curious, Owen explained while CJ retrieved containers from the fridge. “She loves tortillas, Mum. If we give her wraps, she makes less of a mess, but we like that she’s starting to ask for regular sandwiches. We think it’s because that’s what we do.”
“Can you get good tortillas in Washington?”
Owen chuckled. “Pretty sure we can get almost anything in D.C. We buy fresh ones from a vendor at Eastern Market, and we usually have some in the fridge. But we’ll get CJ to make breakfast burritos one morning while you’re here, and we’ll have homemade, fresh tortillas.”
“Isn’t that complicated?”
“Not really. We get the masa premade, and we bought a tortilla press while we were in Mexico.”
“Oh, okay. What can I do to help?”
“Can you get four mugs and a sippy cup for the soup? Upper cabinet to the left of the sink.” Owen placed a stack of plates next to CJ, who spread them out in front of the packages from the fridge.
“The ceramic ones? They’re cute.” The pastel-hued design of color blocks, delicate vines, and a large black numeral were distinctive. Pam turned one over and read the signature. “Mann? I guess that’s the potter?”
Owen nodded. “Those are new. We found them earlier this month, in a little shop on Mackinac Island, when we went to that wedding I mentioned. They only sold stuff made in Michigan, and the lady said a guy in Ann Arbor crafted these. That’s a city in the state.”
CJ rubbed his hands, grinned, and winked at Liebe. “You go first, Munchkin. Raise your hand if you want lettuce.” Liebe did, and so did Owen. Geoff and Pam chuckled and played along by also raising theirs.
Having already sliced the fresh bread and placed a piece on each plate, CJ added ingredients, building the sandwiches in front of everyone. Thin tomato slices followed the deep-green leaf once everyone nodded when asked if they wanted them, then he opened the container with egg salad.
“I’m guessing that’s homemade,” Pam said. “What do you put in it?”
“It is—part of what Ozzie and I did yesterday. I start with Greek yogurt; it’s healthier than mayo and blends easily. By adding salt, ground coriander seed, paprika, and curry powder and mixing it well, we don’t end with too much seasoning in one part and not enough in another.”
“Do you follow a recipe with measurements?”
“Yeah… Kinda. I’ve made it so many times I sort of eyeball amounts these days. Anyway, once it’s all blended, we add chopped red peppers, celery, and sweet onions. Mix it all well, then toss in the eggs. Leaving them for last, and not overmixing, keeps them from entirely crumbling.” While listing the ingredients and describing the preparation, CJ placed a scoop atop the tomato slices. “Okay, who wants cheese?” A thick slice of Emmental went on each. The one meant for Liebe, he quartered. A kosher dill-pickle spear and a handful of baby carrots completed each plate. “Oz, go ahead and pour the soup. What does everyone want to drink?” He pushed a bowl with chopped cilantro his husband’s way to top each serving.
Liebe was quick to respond. “Jarritos!”
“What’s that?” Geoff asked. “I’ll take water.”
“It’s a Mexican soft drink brand. You get milk, Munchkin. Sodas are only allowed during the weekend.” Owen filled glasses from the refrigerator’s dispenser when everyone echoed his father's request.
The sound of Liebe slurping soup from a sippy cup made everyone look at her. Realizing she was again the center of attention, she put the container down and grinned. “I like.” She bit into the pickle, puckering up when she did, before tackling the sandwich. She made a mess but swatted her grandmother’s hand away when Pam tried to help her. “I eat like a big girl.”
“Of course you like it, Munchkin.” Sitting across the others, CJ leaned over and wiped a dribble from her chin. “I made it, so it has to be good.”
Geoff cracked up. “Owen’s right; you’re bloody conceited. But Liebe’s right too; the soup’s good. What’s in it?”
“Avocados, vegetable broth, lime juice, yogurt, garlic, salt, cumin, and chili powder. I sauté the garlic until it starts to brown, then toss everything together in the food processor. It’s better when you allow it to rest overnight in the refrigerator.”
“I want the recipes for it and the egg salad. I never had it curried before.” Pam bit into her sandwich, and sounds of enjoyment were heard over the chewing.
Once finished eating, Pam stood and picked up her plate and Geoff’s. Before she could take a step, Owen rose and placed a hand on her arm. “Leave it, Mum. We’ll take care of it. Here.” Opening a cabinet, he retrieved a container of moist wipes. “Clean her up and go sit with her. You can turn the TV on if you want.”
Geoff lent a helping hand, and everything was cleaned and put away. By then, Pam and Liebe had grown quiet. The grandmother had nodded off on the couch while the girl slept on the floor curled into Wingnut. With a finger to his lips, CJ motioned for Owen and Geoff to follow him.
“Bloody hell! I completely forgot to ask about this when we walked the house.” Geoff stood in the basement, facing Everhope’s wine storage. “The pictures you’ve shared don’t do it justice. This is fantastic. How come you didn’t bring us down here when you gave us the tour?”
Owen shrugged while placing his right hand against the palm reader next to the door. “We don’t like Liebe down here. She can’t get into the wine, but the mechanical room’s here too.”
“Did you just use your hand to open it?”
CJ was the one who replied. “Isn’t that cool? We’ll give you and Pam access while you’re in town. Who else wants a glass of wine?”
Geoff and Owen simultaneously nodded.
“Chardonnay okay with you guys?” CJ opened the refrigerated cabinet and turned momentarily to see his companions nod again. “How about the 2021 De Wetshof? I liked it last time we had it.”
“I’m not familiar with it, but I trust you.” Geoff reached for the bottle CJ held out to him. “Owen says your sommelier training’s going well.” Winking at his son-in-law, he glanced at the label and handed the wine back. “South Africa, eh? I think their whites are better than their reds.”
While CJ uncorked the bottle, Owen took three white-wine glasses from a cabinet. “CJ loves a couple of their Sauvignon Blancs, but this one’s pretty darn good.” He asked his father to taste it, and after Geoff approved, he poured.
“Mate, while Pam’s not around, let’s talk about Mexico.”
CJ had no idea why Geoff did not want Pam to hear. In his usual no-nonsense way, he asked. “Why don’t you want her around?”
“Because I know it bothers her even if she’s handled the whole thing fairly well.” Geoff raised a hand to prevent interruptions. “I’m glad we found out about it on a video call from the plane. Seeing Owen and Liebe alive and well kept her from losing it. Still, she cried. Anti-anxiety pills helped her, and she was able to stop them after a week.”
“You didn’t tell me any of this!” Owen looked and sounded appalled.
“What good would it have done? Not like you could fix it from America. The fact you sent us daily updates with pictures was the next best thing to being together. She’s fine, but I’d rather not discuss gory details in front of her.”
“Anything we can do to help?” CJ reached for Owen’s hand and gently squeezed.
“Be normal, mate. There’s no need to coddle her. She’s not in as bad shape as she was when you were in Australia, but she’s changed. She’s not the fun-loving woman I married, but I hope we’ll one day soon get the old Pam back.” Geoff sipped the wine and nodded approvingly. “I was impressed with you, CJ. Both of you, really, but particularly with how you handled yourself when someone pointed a gun at you.”
CJ shrugged. ”I freaked out when Ozzie called to tell me Liebe was gone, but something snapped inside me right after, and I knew what I had to do. Once Lincoln and I got to the park, adrenaline took over. I simply reacted.”
“I’d like to do something nice for that man. Is he around? Have you seen him since you returned from Mexico?”
“We have, Dad. Last time was at a party earlier this month. He was a friend before, but he’s a brother now. We’ll never be able to repay him for risking his life to protect Liebe.”
Geoff nodded while reaching for the bottle Owen had placed in an ice bucket and refilling everyone’s glass. “Send me his address. We’ll ship him a couple of cases.” He glanced at the floor before raising his gaze to look at CJ. “There’s something you should be aware of. Pam’s scared of you. Since it’s the first time we’ve seen each other after the Christmas fiasco, she’s been worried about how she’d be greeted. On the flight, she asked me if I thought you hated her.”
“I don’t. She and I might not see eye to eye on everything but to each his own. I’ll fight back if she tries to impose her beliefs on us, but otherwise…” CJ did not feel the need to complete the sentence. Let the woman try something like what she had again, and he would rip her to shreds. Nobody messed with his daughter. He still could not wrap his head around what possessed her to think baptizing the girl behind his back was a good idea.
“I think the fact there are more grandchildren on the way will help. And speaking of new babies, let me fill you in on new wines. There’s a chance your twins could be born this year, right?
“Yeah, there’s a chance. The due date right now’s the second of January, though.”
“We want to do the same thing we did when Liebe was born and release a special bottling. Hopefully, the wines this year and next will be better than the 2020 vintage. After the fires, everything’s tasted like smoke for a while.”
Between September 2019 and March 2020, massive fires burned throughout Australia, including the Hunter Valley. The Liston Winery had provided emergency housing to firefighters from a multitude of countries.
CJ grinned and pointed at a framed label of Liebe’s 2020 Liston Verdelho prominently displaying a girl’s silhouette.
“Yep. The graphic artist we used for that one came up with a few mockups, but we haven’t decided how we want to handle it.”
Owen stretched his legs out and leaned back in his chair. “You could do red for one and white for the other.”
“Yeah? And how do we handle their cousin? Tilda’s due in March.” Tilda Liston was married to Owen’s brother, Spencer.
“Duh. Forgot about that. So, what are the options?”
“Wine-wise, do the same for each of the kids and release a Shiraz and a Verdelho. Or bring in the Verdelho Tinto as a third option and give each one a different one. Although our production of those grapes’ so small, carving out a special bottling might be difficult.
“Of course, that’s all up in the air until the end of the year. If the twins are born in 2022, they’ll get their own vintage and labels. If they arrive in 2023, it’ll be different.”
“How?”
“We put Liebe’s name at the top of the label for her bottles. If all three are born next year, one of our options’ doing a joint release called The Cousins. We would list their names underneath. Once we find out if Spencer and Tilda are giving us a grandson or a granddaughter, we’ll mock some labels up and get your input and your brother’s.”
Their conversation lasted until the wine was gone. After, CJ rinsed their glasses while Owen threw the cork into the wire barrel serving as a table base, and set the empty on a ledge.
Geoff’s questioning look made Owen grin. “I’ll steam the label off later. We’ve been doing it since we moved to Everhope and storing them in a drawer. One day they could be part of any remodeling we do down here.”
“You guys used the floorboards you removed for the cabinetry, right? What happens if you want more racks?”
“We have room for about a thousand bottles right now, and I don’t think we’ll need more. But if we do, CJ and I stored unused wood just in case. Everything would match.”
Upstairs, they found Liebe still asleep, cuddled with Wingnut, while Pam sat on the sofa reading. She looked up when the men climbed the stairs. “I thought you guys had gone for a walk.”
“Nope. The boys took me downstairs, and we sat in the wine room chatting. What’s that you’re reading?”
She turned the cover so Geoff could see CJ’s face on it. “We read it online when it came out. It’s the article about young diplomats CJ was featured in. I wanted to get an idea of what kind of questions reporters ask, trying to get ready. I wound up getting engrossed. It’s very good.” Pam and Geoff had agreed to be part of an interview while in town.
“Don’t worry about it, Mum. The reporter will ask you and Dad a couple of questions, and then he’ll go at CJ. He’s the one everyone wants to talk to.”
“Asshole!” CJ had glanced to ensure Liebe was still asleep. “Don’t give me that shit. Even with that one”—CJ pointed at The New York Times Sunday Magazine in Pam’s hand—“when it was supposedly about me, you got your share of ink.”
Once the girl woke up and had a snack, the entire family trudged to Lincoln Park. It was one of the features that sold them on the property in Capitol Hill. A block away from their house, it functioned as a large backyard. Liebe particularly enjoyed the children’s playground at one end. Once they set her loose, Wingnut ran around her protectively, and she gave chase. The adults watched and chatted with neighbors. Their kids had become friendly with Liebe and the dog over the prior few weeks.
“Oh, those are cute.” Pam pointed at Liebe’s lime-green crocs.
“Tio Ritch got ’em.” Liebe, wearing a one-piece bathing suit and clutching an inflatable lighthouse in one hand, pulled CJ toward the front door. “Vamos, Ceej.”
“Hang on, Munchkin.” Owen handed his father two bottles of red and clipped Wingnut’s leash to his collar. “Let’s go.” It was hard to figure out who pulled harder, the dog on his lead or the girl on her father’s hand.
Taisha had taken the afternoon off, so instead of using the gate leading from the alley to the backyard, they rang the front door.
“Hi!” Taisha’s smile had to be one of the most genuine and warm ones in history. “Welcome to the other Abelló household on the block.”
“Just don’t forget who came first, cuz.” CJ kissed her cheek, handed Liebe over, and stepped inside. “Hey! That’s new. It’s gorgeous.”
“Hang on.” Taisha raised a finger in his direction while hugging Owen’s parents. She then turned to look at CJ. “Isn’t it fab? It’s called the Ashanti stool.”
“Where’d you guys get it?”
“Jomo Furniture in Springfield.” Springfield, Virginia, was some thirty minutes away west of Alexandria. “It was designed by Jomo Tariku. He’s an Ethiopian-American artist, and several of his pieces, including that stool, are gonna be in Wakanda Forever.”
“That’s awesome.” CJ ran a hand over the curved seat attached to a hollow, wooden circle with legs; everything painted black except for a minor decorative detail in natural wood embedded in the connecting rectangle.
“We met the artist at a gallery reception a while back, and he mentioned the second Black Panther film would be using some of his chairs and stools. Pricey, but I think I want to get the other two in the series. One’s a square, and the other one a triangle.”
Liebe brought the conversation to a stop. “I want to swim.”
“Take her out, CJ. Let me show Geoff and Pam the house.”
Liebe was in the water when they were done with the tour. The girl, tailed by Wingnut, swam between her fathers, each standing at one end, sipping a beer. The sound of the door opening made CJ turn around. He used his can to indicate a bucket on the patio table. “Help yourself to a beer, Geoff. Pam, I know you don’t like the stuff, but I’m sure Taisha can get you something else.”
Geoff stripped off his shirt, grabbed a beer, and joined the others in the pool. “Mate, that feels bloody good. Good beer too.”
“That’s a local product, Geoff. District Common’s my husband’s favorite. The people at Atlas greet him by name these days.” Atlas Brew Works was a neighborhood brewery and taproom with two locations in Washington. “And your son loves it because the brewery’s entirely solar-powered.” Taisha tapped Pam on the back to divert her attention from Liebe. “Come on, Pam. Let’s go get a cocktail for you and an iced tea for me.”
“Oh, that’s right. No alcohol while pregnant. Do you know what the sex of the baby is yet?”
“Yep. Another Abelló boy. He’s due a month after his cousins.” Once Taisha closed the patio door, the remainder of the conversation was lost to those in the pool.
Because Taisha took the afternoon off from work, her husband was tasked with picking up the food from the restaurant. When he called to say he was on his way to Abuela’s, Taisha drafted CJ to help bring plates and cutlery out to the patio. Since the weather was nice, they decided to eat outdoors.
Tired from swimming, Liebe sat on her grandfather’s lap wrapped in a towel when the patio’s side door opened. “Uncle Red!” Wiggling her way to the ground, she waddled toward Brad.
He picked her up and cuddled her to his chest. “What’s going on, Munchkin? Who are these people?” Brad winked at Geoff and Pam.
“Grandpa Geoff and Grandma. They live in Oztralia.”
“And they came to visit you?”
The girl’s nodding was interrupted by Rod’s arrival with the food. He placed multiple containers on the table before greeting the Australian visitors. Once the lids were lifted, he identified what was in them. “We have moros”—white rice and black beans cooked together—“white rice, red beans, plantain chips, fried pork chunks, chicken ropa vieja, and vaca frita. We also got flan for dessert.”
“Quiero vaca frita.” Sitting on her grandfather’s lap again, Liebe stuck her hand in the container and came out holding a piece of sautéed, shredded beef.
Owen shoved her hand away, making the girl drop the meat. “Elizabeth Abelló! You do not stick your hand in food others are going to eat. You wait until you’re served.”
Pouting briefly preceded the tears. She buried her head on her grandfather’s chest. When Pam reached to take her, he shook his head. “I think the boys should deal with her instead of us.” He lifted his granddaughter and passed her to CJ.
When she tried to hide her face against her father’s chest, CJ wouldn’t allow it. Instead, he sat her on the table's edge and lifted her chin with a finger. “Why are you crying, Munchkin?”
It took a moment, but in halting speech, she eventually replied. “Ozzie’s mean.”
- 27
- 55
- 4
- 3
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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