The Spy Who Loved Me...Part 2 #FridayFlash

(To read Part 1 of The Spy Who Loved Me click here.)

If it’s possible to be having a nightmare while completely awake, I was currently starring in my own horror film. Chaos and confusion boiled around me as my team invaded the party. I stood frozen in the bathroom doorway. My knuckles white and numb, gripping the flash drive like a lifeline. It was all I had left of my past...my future. In an instant, my world had been destroyed.

My husband…a Russian spy? How could I have missed this? What kind of American secret agent was I? None of this made any sense.

I took a small consolation in the fact that by the shocked look on Jonathan’s face, he had appeared to have no clue about my double-identity either. Was he feeling like this right now as he tried to escape? Shattered, betrayed, numb?

“Which way did he go?” A gruff voice decked out in camo and packing an M240 ran towards me.

I lifted my hand and pointed towards the direction Jonathan had fled. Did I want him caught? My priorities had been serving my country. Was I still so devoted that I would assist in the capture of the father of my children...my husband? Maybe he wouldn’t be caught. Confusion swirled through my mind.

“Jenn?” a soft voice brought me out of my haze.

“I’m sorry! He got away.” I turned to the left to face Larry, our operations guy. His kind blue eyes tried to cut through the wall of my anguish.

“But you intercepted the transfer. That’s what’s important!” He said as he took the flash drive from me and placed it in a secure briefcase.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get him next time.” He laughed as he walked towards the front door.

“That’s what I’m afraid of!” I though to myself as I watched him make his way across the deserted front room.

“Nothing breaks up a party faster than a handful of Special Forces party crashers.” He turned around when he realized I wasn’t behind him. “Are you coming?”

I nodded and slipped off my heels. 4 ½ inch heels and a slick marble floor were not compatible in the least. I already had one body part broken tonight. I didn’t need another.

“Let’s go debrief so we can all head home.” I was exhausted emotionally and physically. At that moment, all I wanted was a nice hot bath and my bed. My cold, empty bed.


Two exhausting hours later, I unlocked the front door and snuck quietly in. Melissa was asleep on the couch. One twin tucked under each arm. They woke up as I neared the leather couch. Throwing off the bright green fleece blanket they were neatly tucked into, they came running with a loud “Mommy!”

I opened my arms and scooped them both up and hugged them like there was no tomorrow.

“Mommy, mommy! Is Daddy with you?” The both sang in chorus. I felt my stomach drop to the floor and nausea rolled over me. How was I going to explain this to them?

Melissa was fully awake now and explained, “Sorry! They woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” I tried to sound as natural as possible when inside I was falling apart at the thought of telling the kids they might never see their father again.

I paid her and locked the front door after she drove off. The kids had fallen asleep on the sofa when I returned. I balanced one on each hip and carefully navigated the stairs up to my room. Pulling back the overstuffed blue comforter, I tucked the twins inside my bed. I needed them close to me tonight. To remind me that something good had come out of my marriage to Jonathan. He might be a traitor and had managed to crumble my perfect life. But I would rebuild it stronger with my two wonderful children at my side.

Exhausted, both mentally and physically, I snuggled under the covers with the kids. Immediately I was lulled to sleep by the rhythmic sounds of their breathing.


I woke up with a start and sat up quickly in my empty bed. My eyes scanned the familiar yellow walls of my bedroom as the morning sun poured through the slightly open window. Why was I wearing my dress? Empty bed...my brain finally woke up.

“KIDS?” I screamed as I jumped out of bed, ready to race down the hall to their room.

“Right here Mommy.” They said in unison as they walked through the double bedroom doors carrying a breakfast tray with a beautiful red rose, bowl of cereal and small glass of orange juice.

“Wha…” I stammered. Did I dream everything that happened last night. The spy game? The betrayal?

“We made you breakfast.” They rushed towards me.

I watched as the soggy cereal rode waves of milk over the edges of the bowl and the juice threated mutiny to the glass.

“The rose is from Daddy.”
“Shhh. You’re not supposed to tell.”
“You’re not the boss of me!”

I silenced them with a glare.

“Is Daddy here…right now?” I wasn’t sure what I would do if he walked through the door right now.

They looked at each other, wide eyed…neither one daring to speak first.

“You’re not in trouble. I was just wondering if Daddy was still downstairs.” I said quietly.

They both shook their heads side to side. “He left. He said to give you this.”

I swallowed hard and slowly took the folded note from their outstretched hands.

Until we meet again.
My Love,
Jonathan

“What’s it say? What’s it say?” They said in unison.

“It says he love us and will miss us because he has to go on another long trip.” My voice quivered at the lie, hoping they hadn’t read the note.

“Awww. He already told us that. Come on, let’s go play.” They bounced noisily out of the room and down the hall towards their room.

I quietly closed the doors and collapsed on the floor as hot tears flowed freely down my volcanic face.

That arrogant, stupid fool! He was NOT going to get away with this! Not on my watch! I was going to call Larry and tell him everything...just as soon as I finished...crying.

My Domino Effect And Brilliant Words From Nicola Morgan

Earlier this week, I blogged about FINALLY discovering my MC's name. I was thrilled, to say the least, to be able to call him by name. He was finally complete. A whole person. Little did I know that naming him would cause a domino effect on my MS. The more I plugged his name into my story, the more I realized that he was so much more than I was writing him to be. My story was going down like a stack of dominoes.

I found myself surrounded by pages upon pages of a story that was not adequate for his character. His story was/is so much more than what I had written. Naming my character gave him depth. It gave him a purpose. It gave him new life. The life I had previously written for him was okay. But the new life I was imagining in my head was spectacular!

Am I sad that the 14,000 words I labored over mostly no longer fit my character? NO! Okay, well, maybe a little. As a new writer, I look at everything as a learning opportunity. This was my opportunity to figure out the best way for me to write the story. Should I have waited a few months to figure out my MC's name so I didn't waste 14,000 words? No, I honestly think this was the process I needed to go through to find his name.

As author Nicola Morgan points out in her brilliant blog post There Are No Rules for Writing - Just Results: "Write your book in whatever way works for you...The method, the route you take, matters zilchly. All that matters is the result."

When I finally finish rewriting my story and it's fabulous, no one will care that I scrapped the first 14,000 words. Not even me! (Who knows, along the way I will probably write 14,000 more words that don't work.) In the end, it doesn't matter how I got there. What matters most is that I'm at the end with a story that I believe in and can't wait to show the world.

Let the writing begin!