Page 12 of Unintended Love

“No, Doc, you misunderstand,” Clint added quickly. “Theodora is the wife of the man in your morgue. Less than an hour ago, I had the unfortunate responsibility of telling her that her husband, the father of her child, is dead.”

“Oh, fuck,” the doctor said just before the front door closed. The house became completely quiet.

Theodora needed to use this time to call her mother. She had wallowed in self-pity long enough. It would be the middle of the night in Texas, but at least her mother would be home. She hoped.

“This had better be fucking important,” Lenoir Galen Walters Sheffield growled. “You know I need my beauty sleep.”

Theodora didn’t know whether to roll her eyes or burst into tears. Her body knew the answer. “Mama, he’s…he’s gone.” She couldn’t bring herself to say the D word.

“Baby girl,” her mother exclaimed with leashed anger, completely awake now. “Did that good-for-nothing husband of yours leave you? I told you not to marry him. But did you listen? No!”

“Mom,” Theodora tried to interrupt, but her mother was on a roll.

“I warned you that Latino men had rightfully earned the title of Latin lovers. They’re all alike. Not a one of them can keep their dick in their pants.”

“Mom,” she called out in a stronger voice, but knew this rant was not over. She’d heard it several times over the years. No matter how strongly she’d defended Javier, her mother refused to believe he had kept their vows sacred. In all the years of their marriage, he had never strayed.

“They all think they are God’s gift to women, and I should know, I’ve had enough of them as lovers.” Her mother finally took a breath.

“Mom. Stop.” Theodora swallowed hard. “Javier didn’t leave me. Not like that. He’s…he’s…” She still couldn’t bring herself to say the word dead. “He was killed on a mission last night.”

Her mother paused as though absorbing each word. “Are you telling me he’s dead?”

Sniffing back tears, she bobbed her head up and down. This wasn’t a video call. She knew her mother couldn’t see her. Finally, she squeaked out, “Yes.”

“Oh, my poor baby girl.” Her mother’s tone had completely changed into a caring, loving mother. “I wish I were there to hold you through your ordeal. But you know I don’t work steady, and the rent is due next week. I don’t got much left on my EBT card. I’m so sorry, baby girl, but I can’t see any way that I can go all the way to Ethiopia and help you through this.”

Theodora suddenly remembered what Clint had said. “It’s okay, Mama. Clint said they would fly you over here so you could be with me.”

“Really?” Her mother paused before she asked, “So, I am to buy the tickets, and when I get there, they’ll reimburse me?”

She knew there was no way her mother could afford the thousands of dollars it would cost to buy the ticket, even knowing she would be reimbursed. Her mother wasn’t good with money. More than once, she had maxed out multiple credit cards. Their bank account had been overdrawn more often than it had actually contained money. Her Uncle Larry had bailed her mother out of trouble so many times that he’d finally sat her down and created a budget. A cash budget. They had closed her bank accounts, taken away all her credit cards, and forced her to deal in cash only. Except for the welfare card, which was replenished once a month. That system had been working for the past five years. Her mother’s credit score was too damaged to ever be repaired at her age. But watching her mother blow through money and men had taught Theodora a hard-learned lesson.

She and Javier had saved money, more than enough to buy her mother a plane ticket to Ethiopia. But Uncle Larry had warned her to never give money to her mother because she needed to learn to live on what cash was in her pocket.

“No, Mama. You pick out the flights and let me know all the details, and I’ll have the people here book them for you.” Once her mother arrived at the compound, she wouldn’t have any need for money. Theodora had plenty to cover food and whatever else her mother may need, at least while she was in Africa.

“Well, since I’m awake anyway, I might as well go ahead and look at flights. Let me grab my tablet.”

It was actually Theodora’s old tablet. Very old, but still functional. When Javier was about to retire from the Army, the Post Exchange had an amazing sale on computers. They had agreed to make the expensive purchase since they would need a new one in Ethiopia so she could finish her degree. Before leaving the States, she had given her mother her old tablet. “Mama, these international minutes are very expensive. When you choose your flights, email them to me.”

Chapter 5

“Holy shit,” Ashlin cursed as quietly as she could when her butt landed onto the back seat once again. It certainly wasn’t the first time she’d gone flying, nor the tenth, when Father James hit a pothole.

“If this is what the South Sudanese consider an improved highway, I’d hate to see what they consider unimproved,” Kira complained from the seat beside her.

“You’ll get to see one of those in about an hour and a half,” Father James said with a chuckle from behind the wheel. At least he had something stable to hang onto. “This is a beautiful road compared to what it used to be. They just finished it in twenty twenty-three.”

Ashlin ripped one bare thigh, then the other, off the fake leather seat. Her short shorts didn’t cover much beyond her butt cheeks, and the air conditioning in the SUV was practically nonexistent in the third row. Her sweat was making her skin stick to the stained, ripped Naugahyde that may have originally been beige. She hoped their college-girl costumes were distracting enough to get some good shots throughout the camp.

As they had walked through the city of Juba yesterday to observe college-aged women working for NGOs, clothing had run the gamut from almost nothing, like the Ladies were wearing today, to jeans and long-sleeved shirts. Father James was right about one thing: girls aged eighteen to twenty-two certainly took a lot of selfies. Fortunately, Team 2 had been trained by the CIA to take pictures covertly. Ashlin wasn’t sure how stealthy they were going to need to be. The plan was to get a lot of pictures of the camp and as many men as they could, then immediately upload them to their “social media” accounts. Homeland Security had set the team up with fake Instagram and Facebook accounts, where their pictures would be sent to the Ops Center in Washington.

“We still have over an hour,” Father James announced. “Does anybody have any questions? You can ask me anything. It doesn’t have to pertain to the mission.”

“Is polygamy legal in South Sudan?” Piper asked. The women had all noticed her frowning several times as they had seen well-dressed men in Western-style business suits walking with several women trailing behind them, many of whom were pregnant.

“Not only is it legal, but it’s a sign of status and wealth.” He chuckled. “In this country, a man can have as many wives as he can afford. Juba, being the capital, has some of the wealthiest men in the country.”