The Long Tail Spy

By Patricia Wilson and Kristine Zensky

January 1977

Cinnamon pulled the nearest chaise from Rollin’s favorite position in the sun to under the shade of the bougainvillea hanging off the bedroom balcony overhead.  The late January sun was already too hot for her.  She tossed aside her straw hat, kicked off her sandals and stretched out.  She had her iced tea within reach and her files on the foot of the chaise.  It was tempting to leave the pile there and simply enjoy the calm and solitude of her backyard. 

She took a deep breath before diving in.   But she wasn’t ready to focus.  The musk from the jasmine lingered in the breeze.  That had been a good addition to the patio. She also caught the sweet scent of the three lemon trees Rollin had given her as a peace offering a few weeks before.  All three trees had fruit now.  She liked the giant terracotta pots with their classic styling.  They formed a nice border along the far end of the pool, giving it a focal point.  He had chosen well.  

In case the symbolism was lost on her, he had also given her the Peter, Paul, and Mary 45 of Lemon Tree.  He had signed the card “We’ve managed the impossible many times before.  We’ll be drinking lemonade from these trees – TOGETHER – fifty years from now.  We will find a way!  I love you - and Jennifer – with all that I am, R.” 

She still had the card in her top dresser drawer, amongst her lingerie, appropriately enough.  She shared his determination.  They finally understood that they were not destined to have a conventional relationship and so finally realized that they had to stop trying to force each other into conventional definitions of one.

In hindsight, it seemed blindingly obvious.  For years they had danced around rather than resolve their fundamental issue.  She wished she had told him earlier something along the lines of “I want you and here are my terms. You need to respect me and be only with me and not because I’m your wife but because I’m worth it and it’s what I want and need from you. Decide now. Can you do it?”

After the emotional explosion of New Year’s Eve, she realized by New Year’s Day that not only did Rollin desperately want her in his life; he was committed to proving his loyalty.  He was her lover, her friend, her child’s father, the man who would always be the only one for her.  She realized she would always be the woman who came first for him.  She also believed he was committed to having her be the only woman in his life.  She thought briefly of her friend Fabrizio Ambrosini and his belief that woman made the rules in relationships.  Maybe she should have made her rules clear to Rollin sooner.

She closed her eyes.  A little sleep was tempting.  Last night’s dinner with Barney and Paula turned into a late night when they tried out a new bar Camille had recommended for its lounge singer. The vocalist was exquisite and Rollin had been reluctant to leave.  When Barney and Paula bowed out to relieve their babysitter, Rollin pulled Cinnamon on to the tiny dance floor.  He held her close as they danced to torch songs from the forties and fifties. 

They had closed the bar down, a first since Jennifer was born.  They drove home with the top down, necking at stoplights like teenagers, hands stroking each other’s thigh.  They made love on the balcony, balanced against the balustrade, nude under the stars, then again in bed.  Rollin had also tried to get her outside to skinny-dip, but she vetoed from sheer exhaustion. 

Cinnamon was much happier than she had been for the past year.  She wanted Rollin with her, loving her.  She also wanted him home, lavishing attention on their daughter.  Jennifer was obviously happier with the whole family together too.  She was less wistful and worried and her energy level seemed to soar.  Even Maria seemed to be glad to have him back.  The house seemed to have more of a buzz with Rollin around.

When Cinnamon woke much later than usual she caught Maria on her way to the hairdresser as it was her day off.  Maria told her, “The explorers are having an adventure.”  She indicated a note on the kitchen table which read “Gone exploring with J. Love you, R.”  Cinnamon had to smile.  She could never guess where they would go on their Saturday excursions, but they both always came back grinning ear to ear, excited to bursting point, and equally desperate to share everything with her. 

The breeze was perfect. She had the house to herself.  Work could wait.  Lately she felt like the reading was never-ending.  When had she become a bureaucrat?  Jim regularly reassured her that her work for the company was incredibly valuable.  She realized that meant her lack of enthusiasm for the heavy administrative load was clear. 

She still had her cover in place through Allure, even though Fabrizio’s team handled all the modeling agency operations now, but Jim rarely gave her reason or opportunity to return to the field.   She reluctantly accepted that Casey was now Jim’s first choice female operative.  Casey was good and she was unattached.  While male agents with families regularly operated in the field, there seemed to be an unwritten rule about sending mothers undercover. 

And somewhere out there was Andrei Fetyukov.   She wasn’t going to find him in any of these files.  This she already knew.  Any developments related to Fetyukov would have been sent to her immediately, not buried in her weekly background reading.

The files called to her from the foot of her lounger. Jim was in Washington and she had promised him she would lead Monday’s staff meeting in his absence.   To be fully prepared she would have to get through all the background files. If she didn’t read through them all now, she would have to bow out of tomorrow’s plans for a beach picnic and knew that would not go down well with either intrepid explorer.  With a sigh she pulled the pile onto her lap and began to sort, shifting the most urgent issues to the top.

But Andrei Fetyukov pushed his way back to her consciousness.  “I am a long tail spy,” Cinnamon mused.  “I have a family.”  The thought of Fetyukov seeking revenge on her was bad enough, but to imagine him harming Jennifer made her physically shudder.  After she had confessed her fears to Rollin on New Year’s Eve, they had quietly made arrangements for extra protection for Jennifer at school.  It wasn’t an unusual request given the number of diplomat’s children in her daughter’s class, but Cinnamon did not think the principal completely bought their story about potential kidnap threats because of Cinnamon’s modeling career.

She sighed deeply, trying to push the terror to the back of her mind so she could get some work done.  Going to get Fetyukov, taking him out, required authorization she did not possess.  Even Jim could not set the mission agenda, only the operating plan.  Andrei was not a priority target anymore, in itself a scary reflection on the state of the world.  There was little chance of the secretary sanctioning anything anyway.  The information the company had was too sketchy.  Catch-22. Andrei had to become more dangerous before he became worthy of IMF pursuit.

With another cleansing breath, Cinnamon was able to force herself to focus on the files before her.  She moved through them steadily for over an hour.  She stopped when she heard a car door shut and glanced at her watch.  Not quite noon, early for Rollin and Jen and probably Maria too.  She paused, waiting to see if it was even worth beginning her project.

“Yes, Willy. Come down the side path.” She answered as she stood and straightened her skirt, replacing her files on her chaise.  She moved to the gate and saw Willy’s broad shoulders ducking under the jasmine vines hanging off the arbor.  “What a lovely surprise.”

“I was driving around and took a chance.  Nobody else around?”

“They’ve abandoned me.”

Willy laughed and noted the files. “You’re catching up on paperwork, aren’t you?”

“I’m about to declare that it’s impossible to ever really catch up.”

”I feel that way about the gym. Cinnamon, are you busy? It’s you I wanted to see actually.”

“Sure Willy. Sit down.  Would you like some iced tea?”

Cinnamon settled back on her chaise and moved her files to the stone patio.  She waited for the gentle man to continue.  He seemed at a loss.  “What is it, Willy?  Something wrong?”

Willy shook his head.  “I need some advice.  I’ve met someone … really special.”

Cinnamon smiled, “That’s great news.” She wondered how her advice could be helpful.

“I can’t tell… well, I don’t know … well. I’m not sure what I can say and not say about … things.”

“Cinnamon, I think you’d really like her.  I met her at the gym-“ he caught the grimace Cinnamon quickly stifled.  “But she’s not like the others.  She’s a vitamin rep.  She’s really sweet, very smart, lots of fun.”

Cinnamon felt badly out of practice for revealing her dismay at the string of body-conscious babes Willy had dated.  She realized it was further proof that this office role was dulling her talents.  She was glad Willy was looking for someone with more substance, but she knew she had a prejudice against his finding her in a body-building gym.  She tried to make up for her indiscretion.  “She sounds lovely.”

Willy nodded.  “Gorgeous too.”

“But you’re worried about her reaction to … the company.”

“I think she’ll be fine, but I’m not sure what I can tell her at this stage.  I mean, I think she’s the one, but she’s not the one yet, and she may never get to be the one if I keep having to make up excuses about why I suddenly leave town and don’t always call when I say I will.”

Cinnamon sympathized with Willy’s dilemma, but he knew her history with Rollin. “Willy, I’m curious why you wanted to ask me.  You know that Rollin and I didn’t have that issue.  We did break every rule going, just not the one about discussing the company with outsiders.”

Wily laughed. ‘I know the rules.  And no, I’m not trying to ask you to say it’s okay to break them.  I just wonder how much I can say.”

“Have you asked Barney about when he was dating Paula?  It might be helpful to know what he told Paula and when?”

Willy smiled.  “He says Paula figured it all out in five minutes without him ever telling her a thing.”

Cinnamon laughed with him.  “I can believe that. But I didn’t realize Barney knew Paula knew.”   As she said it Cinnamon realized how much she valued the fact that Rollin did know all about her secret life.  She could not imagine facing the threat of Fetyukov without him and was surprised that it was only now that she realized how foolish she had been not to tell him about her fears when her nemesis first re-appeared.

“I know Barney doesn’t want Paula to know any details, but she has an idea.  Plus they dated for all of three weeks before they got married.  I know I could be a little more direct if we were married, it’s just…”

“Willy, I am the last person you have to talk to about being reluctant about marriage.” 

They shared a laugh.  Willy looked across the pool.  “I figured that since you’re working with so many recruits … Well, I can’t be the first person to get stuck in this position.”

Cinnamon knew he was right, but in their immediate circle Barney was the only person not to pair off with someone from within the company.  Dan met Crystal when he first recruited her for a mission; Jim met Mary through her work in the encryption division; and she and Rollin, well.  Before Rollin she had pretty much resigned herself to not dating.  The complications of concealing a secret life just seemed overwhelming.

She also knew she had to give Willy some support.  “Here’s one way to think about it.  You are a great judge of character.  That’s why you never dated those gals from the gym for very long.  I know you know how I felt about them.”  She met Willy’s eyes and he nodded.  “And I know you’ve already had all the training we give recruits about honey pots.”  Willy nodded again.  “Do you trust this woman?”

“Well, here’s the thing Cinnamon.  I do, but I was hoping you’d check her out for me too.”  Willy could see her wheels turning.  “Not recruit her or anything!  Just meet her.  Let me know what you think.  Kinda unofficially.”

“Willy, do you want my okay to marry her?  Because I can’t give you an okay to tell her more than the rules allow.”

“I know that and I wouldn’t ask that of you. But Cinnamon, you took a risk with the rules and I think if you had to do it all over again, you’d make the same decision. I need to make a decision here or I am going to lose a woman I really love.”

Cinnamon smiled.  “What’s her name?”

“Diane.”

“Does she like the beach?” 

Willy nodded.

Cinnamon sighed, “Why don’t you both come with the three of us for a picnic tomorrow at Zuma, out past Rollin’s old bungalow. It’s a beach brunch, Rollin and Jennifer’s idea; lox, bagels, and cream cheese in the sand.”

Willy’s face lit up. “You’re sure?”

“They’ll both be thrilled. But Diane will never believe you met either of us in the gym.”

“I told her I’m taking acting lessons, just in case.”

Cinnamon laughed.  “You are preparing a plan, are you not Mr. Armitage?”

Willy blushed.  “I think you’re going to love her.”

A car door slammed, followed by a second less dramatic closing.  Minutes later Jennifer came tearing through the French doors from the house.  “Hi Uncle Will! I saw your car! Hi Mom.”

Willy stood and scooped her up.  At seven she was becoming a handful even for him.  “Hi Jen.  Where’s your Dad?”  He perched Jennifer on the end of Cinnamon’s chaise.

“He’s getting the stuff.  Mom, look!”  Jennifer reached down for her mother’s sun hat. “I’m a surrealist.  This is not a hat!  Did you know about that one? We saw a bunch of painters who make optical illusions.  A clock was melting!”

Cinnamon smiled at her excited daughter, watching her bounce on the end of the chaise.  She reached for Jennifer’s hand and she did a smooth seat drop onto the cushion.

“Hey Will,” Rollin was very relaxed as he strolled out to the patio.  He shook Willy’s hand and leaned over to kiss Cinnamon. “Hi Beautiful.”  Jennifer was wearing Cinnamon’s hat, seated beside her on the chaise.  “Kiddo, where’s the stuff?”

“I thought you had it, Dad.”

As Jennifer stood, Cinnamon steered her toward the gate.  “Please run around the house.”  She turned to Rollin.  “You went to the museum?”

He nodded as he joined her on the chaise, slipping his arm around her back.  “She loved it.  There’s a great show on Surrealism.  We can all go again.”

“Jennifer’s feeling inspired so we stopped at the art store and got some new pastels.  What’s up Willy? A well-earned break?”

“Hopefully, at least for a few days.”

Cinnamon put her hand on Rollin’s thigh.  “Were you aware that Willy is taking acting lessons?’

Rollin was surprised, “Really?”

“You’ll have to be more convincing tomorrow – you’re his teacher.”  Cinnamon smiled.  Rollin’s glance moved from Cinnamon to Willy and back.  “Willy can explain.  I’m going to check on Jen and bring everyone some iced tea. You’ll like this story, Rollin. It’s about women and breaking rules.”

+++++

Friday morning Cinnamon stretched reluctantly, wishing she could stay in bed.  It had been a long week of boring meetings, late nights in the office, and an apparently self-replenishing mountain of paperwork.  And still no new intelligence on Fetyukov.

She rolled onto her side.  For the fifth morning running, Rollin was up and out.  She glanced at the clock - almost 7:15.  She wondered if she’d find him in the same place.  She gathered her strength, then rose and moved for the French doors to the balcony.  She wrapped herself in a robe, opened the doors, but before moving through them, stopped when she heard Jennifer’s voice.

Cinnamon smiled and took a half-step onto the balcony, peering over the rail to spy Jennifer perched on Rollin’s back as he swam lengths, modifying his stroke to accommodate a young rider.

“Sure I’m sure.”  Jennifer was emphatic.

“You holding on?” Rollin was about to reach the end of the pool and kick turned, swimming under water with Jennifer hanging onto his shoulders.  He surfaced and continued his lap.

Jennifer was delighted. She re-surfaced laughing.  “Dad, amphibians are frogs and stuff.”

“I thought amphibians were equally comfortable on land and water.  So I figure you’re an amphibian.”

“But they have gills and stuff and can breathe underwater.”

“You can’t?” He dove under, pulling Jennifer with him. 

Cinnamon moved to the balustrade to watch them surface at the other end of the pool.

“Dad, I held my breath!”  Jennifer held onto the pool deck and wiped her long blonde hair away from her eyes.

Rollin treaded water next to her.  “Sure you’re not breathing underwater?”

He reached for her and pulled her close, then tossed her toward the middle of the pool.  She was thrilled.  When she paddled back to the surface of the water she saw Cinnamon.

“Mom! Watch me dive!  Dad, can we do it?”

Rollin gave Cinnamon a crooked smile and a wink before turning back to Jennifer.  “Sure we can. Come here.”  Rollin created a platform with his palms.  Jennifer placed her hands on his head for balance.  “Ready?”

“Yep. Watch Mom!”  Rollin raised her out of the water and gave her a toss as she dove over his head.  When she surfaced she was beaming, sporting the exact same grin as her father.

Cinnamon raised her arms in applause.  “Bravo!”  She noticed Maria on the patio off the kitchen. 

Maria moved closer to the pool, “Little one, you will be in the Olympics!”

“Did you see me Maria?”

“Yes, I did.  But I think now it is time to get dry for breakfast and to get ready for school.”

“I’m not hungry,” Jennifer answered predictably.

“Then who will help me make the pancakes?”

“I will!” Jennifer hurried to the steps out of the pool.  Maria met her with a towel.  “Come on Dad!”

“I’ll be there soon, Pumpkin.”  He rolled onto his back to meet Cinnamon’s eyes.  “Sorry, did we wake you?”

She shook her head no.  “The alarm was about to go.  Want a towel?”

“Got one.”  Rollin swum to the deck closest to her and whispered conspiratorially, “Meet you in the shower.”  He pressed himself onto the deck and scampered for his towel.

Cinnamon shook her head, but couldn’t suppress her grin. He was irrepressible.  She sighed and moved to the shower, surprised at how quickly her body internalized the excitement of him. 

She reached in to test the water then slipped under the stream as she heard him come into the bathroom.  She heard him toss his suit into the sink.  “Sweetheart, our child is an amphibian.”

“I heard her denying that vehemently.”

“Yeah but the evidence suggests…” He parted the curtain and joined her.    He gazed appreciatively at her body.  He moved close and grazed her sides with his hands.  “This evidence suggests you might need to go in late today.”  He bent to kiss her neck.

He pressed her back against the wet wall.  “Cancel it, you’re the boss lady.”

She laughed.  “I’d review the organizational structure with you to clear up that misconception, but-“

“But then you’d have to kill me.”  His fingers were moving teasingly across her.

“Yes, and you’re far more useful to me alive.”  She sighed enjoying his touch.  “Besides, you have a breakfast date with your daughter.”

“You telling me we’re both pressed for time?”  His fingers slid further down her slick body.

“You know it’s my least favorite thing to say to you.”  Cinnamon traced his ribs as the stream of water ran between them.  His actions made her knees quiver.

Rollin chuckled.  “It’s my least favorite thing to hear.” 

“I’ll try not to make a habit of it.”  Cinnamon teased.

Rollin met her smile with his.  He pressed himself against her.  “You understand that I rarely do my best work under these outrageous time constraints.”

“Spoken like the artist you are.” 

“Tell me more.”  Rollin lifted her so their bodies could engage.  His lips moved to graze her neck.  Cinnamon used the wall for support as he gyrated smoothly. 

“Ummmm…I’ve missed having time to be with you this week.”

Rollin sighed, pressing into her.  “You and me both.”  His hand caressed her, her back arched further, spurring him on.

“Oh, Rollin.”  Cinnamon’s breath quickened.  Her hands left his shoulders to creep along the wall for support.  One hand found a faucet and she grabbed it for security. 

Rollin lifted her hips higher and she wrapped her ankles around his thighs.  Her hand clutching the faucet turned suddenly.  The water mix switched dramatically to icy cold water. Cinnamon’s only reaction was to let go of the faucet.  Without missing a beat, Rollin swung them both out of the freezing spray and against the far wall.  He pumped against her like an energetic metronome and climaxed seconds later.

Cinnamon struggled to catch her breath.  “I could have killed us.”

“Apparently my ticker’s in okay shape.”  Rollin teased as he kissed her softly.

“What if I’d scalded us?”

“We’re fine.  I’m better than fine.”  He kissed her again.  “Proof that you and I are not meant to rush.”

Cinnamon met his twinkling eyes with a smile.  “I think you do great work, under any circumstances.”  She kissed him deeply.

"I’m freezing.”

They left the shower and dried each other playfully.  Cinnamon brushed her hair.  Rollin leaned over to nuzzle her neck.  “Can I take you to lunch today and don’t say you’re too busy.”

Cinnamon smiled.  “I am too busy, and I already have a date.  Willy invited me to lunch.”  She watched his reaction in the mirror.

Rollin shook his head.  “Is this for the Diane de-brief?”

“No, I gave him that over the phone on Monday when he called to ask me to lunch.  I think lunch is just a thank you.”

Rollin smirked.  “Then do I get to take you to lunch tomorrow?”

Cinnamon reached behind to pull him against her back.  “I would be delighted to have lunch with you tomorrow, but…”

“But I’m having lunch with Paula and Camille because you’ve got Lakers tickets with Barney and Willy and the kids.”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday already? I can’t believe that.”

Cinnamon saw his frown and concluded his concern was about the slow progress editing his film.  “You’ve been getting up quite early for your swims with Jennifer.  It must make for a long day.”

“Well, swimming with a seven year-old beats studio politics any day.  She’s more mature than anyone else I deal with.”

Cinnamon waited for him to continue, but Rollin only sighed and changed the subject.  “We never compared notes.  What did you think of Diane?”

She picked up her brush and parted her hair.  “I think she’s bright and genuine.  What about you?”

“I agree.  She’s cute.  She seems sorta sweet.”

Cinnamon stopped brushing.  “You say that like it might be a bad thing.”

“Nah, not a bad thing.  She’s just sweet.”

“Am I sweet?”  Cinnamon asked coyly.

Rollin laughed.  “No, you’re not sweet.” He leaned down to kiss her head.  “You’re spicy and I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

+++++

Cinnamon could not remember laughing so much.  Paula Collier was a hoot, her sister Camille her equal.  The white wine spritzers may have also helped Cinnamon’s attitude. 

All the preparations for the barbeque were complete and Paula’s two young daughters were napping.  The three women were gathered under the shade of the umbrella on Paula’s deck discussing men.  Cinnamon and Paula were living vicariously through Camille’s tales of single life.  It was great to put the working week behind her and simply laugh with friends.

When a car pulled into the driveway, Cinnamon could hear Jennifer and Grant laughing uncontrollably.  Willy came through the screen door carrying one kid in each massive arm.  “I smell meat,” he said in his best giant voice. “Maybe I won’t have to eat you.”  Both kids giggled as they squirmed in his tight grip. 

Willy lowered them to the floor of the deck, but they clung to his thighs, walking with him on his toes.  “Hey, Paula, Barney says keep one of those steaks raw.  It’s needed for medicinal purposes.”

“What did Barney do now?”  Paula teased. 

“You’ll see.”  Willy tossed his head toward the door and continued with the kids out to the yard.

The women shared puzzled looks.  Cinnamon followed Paula into the house.  The front door to the house opened.  Barney spoke in a boxing announcer voice: “And in an unscheduled one round bout from the parking lot of the fabulous Forum we have barely standing in this corner welterweight Rollin “One Punch” Hand.”

Barney led Rollin into the room.  His head was tipped back, he held a Coke can to his eye, there was blood staining the front of his blue oxford shirt.  The women were momentarily paralyzed.  Barney tried to lighten things.  “You think he’s bad, you should have seen the other guy.”

Paula snapped into action, grabbing a clean towel and running it under cold water. “Camille! Bring me a steak.”  She ordered her little sister.

Cinnamon moved forward and took Rollin’s arm.  With Barney they sat him on the couch, leaning against the side arm.  His eye was already swollen and his nose bloodied.  “He wouldn’t let us take him to the hospital.”  Barney explained.

“I’m alright,” Rollin said.

Cinnamon didn’t know what to say. 

Paula moved in with the towel.  “Rollin, take this.  What happened?” 

Rollin just shook his head.  Paula and Cinnamon turned to Barney. He looked out to the backyard.  Willy was keeping the kids occupied.

Cinnamon stroked his arm.  “Rollin?”

“I’m fine.” 

“I’ll get you a clean shirt.”  Barney’s eyes met Paula’s as he turned for their bedroom. She followed him.

“Here’s the steak.”

“Thanks, Camille.”  She gave them space.

Cinnamon took the Coke can and handed Rollin the raw meat.  He pressed it against his eye.  She turned to check on Jennifer who was chasing Grant around the swing set.  “Sweetheart? What happened?”

He opened his good eye and met hers.   “This … bigot … came after me for letting Jennifer hold hands with Grant after the game.”  Rollin was disgusted at having to even repeat what had happened.

Cinnamon sighed and squeezed his hand.  Jennifer and Grant had been best friends since they were first walking.  Of course they would hold hands, especially in a parking lot.  “He hit you?” 

“No. I hit him. I didn’t realize he had two friends.”

“Where was Willy?”

“With the kids. He did the right thing; he put them in the car.  I didn’t want the kids hearing any of it.  Barney pulled the guys off me, and then the cops came.  The guys ran.  I told the kids that I banged into the door.”

Cinnamon brushed his hair back and held his cheek.  They had always been aware that their world was more color blind than the world at large.  Times like this it really hit home.

Rollin brought her hand to his lips.  “I’m gonna clean up.”

“Should we go?”

“Only if you want to.”

“I’d rather be with our friends.”  Rollin declared emphatically.

Rollin squeezed her arm before rising.  He left the room to clean up and change. Cinnamon felt numb, still adjusting to the dramatic mood shift.  She looked out at the kids happily playing together.  Eventually she realized Paula had returned.

Paula met Cinnamon’s eyes “He told you?”

Cinnamon nodded.  “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?  You’re not responsible for the ignorant white people, just like I’m not responsible for the ignorant black people.”

Cinnamon smiled sadly.  “I’m still sorry.  It shouldn’t happen.” They embraced, holding each other tightly. 

Rollin reappeared in a clean shirt of Barney’s.  “Hey, I’m the one who got beat up.”  They both turned and he hugged them both. 

Paula pulled away, smiling, “I need to check on my children, my food, my sister, and my man.”

Rollin was happy to hold Cinnamon.  “Can I get really drunk?”

“I’m sure you can.  But I’ve been drinking white wine with the girls, hoping you’d drive.”

“Let’s ask Willy to take us home and we’ll get the car tomorrow.”

“Paula says he’s meeting Diane later.”

“Taxi?”

“Hmmm, good thinking.  I’ll get you a beer.” 

“I’ll help you.”  Rollin took her hand and pulled her close.

“Rollin, at first, I thought –“

“I know. I almost wish it had been.  I think it’s even sadder that it was an ordinary guy with a really crazy world view.”

“Isn’t that who it usually is? Who we were usually up against?” 

Rollin raised his eyebrows. “I guess you’re right.”

After dinner, Grant led Jennifer and his two little sisters on an obstacle course through the yard under shrubbery, over swing sets, and through hula hoops. Cinnamon loved the feeling of family, sitting on the Collier’s deck surrounded by her best friends and four boisterous children. 

“He will win MVP again.” Barney argued.

“He’s got three already. I think it’ll be someone else. They need to share this stuff around.”  Camille retorted.

“Not if Kareem’s the best player – that’s why it’s called MVP!”

“He got it last year because the Lakers lost more than they won, going into the play-offs.”

“No Camille, Jabbar got it because he led the league in rebounding, blocked shots, and minutes played and finished second in scoring and field-goal percentage.”

“I still say the Bucks might do it, even without Kareem.”

Rollin shook his head.  “Not if Jerry West has anything to do about it!”

Willy was fascinated.  “Camille, how do you know so much about basketball?”

“Because my fool brother-in-law has season tickets but is always out of town. He goes to every electronics convention held on the planet and I get to use his seats.”

Willy caught Rollin’s eye as he moved past to get another can of soda.  “Hey Barn, sounds like you’re going to way too many conventions if Camille sees more games than you.”

Paula joined in.  “So Rollin, how about you? You traveling these days?”

Rollin sighed. “A friend of mine offered me a part in a picture in Rome next month. But right now I’m still tied to an editing desk at the studio.”

“When will you finish?”

“That Paula, is the question on everyone’s lips.  I’m behind schedule.”

“Well, you’re an artist. Can’t rush art.”

Rollin smiled. “Maybe.  But I’m an artist on a budget and time is money, the studio’s money.”

Paula rose to squeeze Rollin’s shoulder.  “You’ll get it done.  I’ll be first in line to buy a ticket.”

Barney said, “What do you mean buy a ticket?  Rollin, aren’t you taking us to the premiere?”

Rollin smiled but Cinnamon was increasingly aware of his frustration with the picture.  The experience really had not gone the way he had hoped.  She stood to join Paula and hopefully change the subject.  “Let me help you with some of these dishes.”

“Oh it’ll be easy.”

“I’ll help.” Camille joined the other two women inside.

Barney passed Rollin a beer from the cooler.  “So the editing part is not much fun.”

“Nope.  Sitting in the dark for hours on end.  I don’t even have final cut, so I’m not sure why I am bothering.  The studio head changed in the middle of the shoot and the current regime sees it all very differently.”  He took a long pull on his beer.

“Too bad.” 

Willy leaned closer. “Rollin, are you sure you don’t miss…you know.”

Rollin reached for Willy’s hand.  “I miss you, Will, you big lug.”

Barney laughed the laugh of a man on his fifth beer.

Willy frowned. “I’m serious, Rollin.  I just can’t imagine you without the rush. You always seemed so charged by what we do.”

Rollin shrugged. “Most of the time, I guess.  But towards the end the bureaucracy was getting to me.”

“Sounds a lot like what you’ve got now at the studio.”

“May be.” Rollin sighed.

“I think Jim and Cinnamon get the bureaucracy, not us.” Willy pronounced thoughtfully. 

Barney nodded, “I couldn’t do Jim’s job.”

“Maybe I mean politics, not bureaucracy.  You know, sometimes I’m not really sure why I left.”  Rollin took another long pull to finish his beer and reached for another longneck.

Barney leaned closer. “So what about tonight? You could have turned away.  Not enough action for you in the real world?”

Rollin looked up to meet his friend’s gaze.  He didn’t have an answer.

Willy raised his can of Tab.  “You know Rollin, for a guy who’s been out for as long as you, you took him with a nice chop.”

Rollin nodded his thanks.  “Still, I’m glad you both were there.”

Barney smiled. “Even if you had known there were three of them, I think you still would have hit him.”

“Yep, that’s how pissed off I was.  But seriously, I appreciate your help, both you guys.”

The three friends raised a toast to each other.

Rollin paid the cab driver and followed Cinnamon into their house. She carried Jennifer in her arms and soon had her in her pajamas and in bed.  She met Rollin in the bedroom. He had stripped to his boxers and was climbing into bed wearily.  His eye was bruising, but the swelling was down.

“Did you arm the alarm?”  Cinnamon asked as she reached for her gown.

“We can go together.”

“And have a family breakfast? Maybe Nate ‘n’ Al’s”

Cinnamon smiled.  “Sure.”  She continued into the bathroom to prepare for bed, thinking about a family breakfast - her family. 

When she returned to the bedroom the lights were out and moonlight from the balcony illuminated her way.   Rollin was under the covers, leaning on his side, pulling back the covers on her side.

“Come to bed.”

“I am.” She climbed in next to him, nestling in his arms as he snuggled against her.  “Rollin?”

“Hmm?”

“I am glad you’re here with us. Especially on days like today.”

Cinnamon sighed.  “I haven’t been this happy for a long time.  This week made me realize I’m a long tail spy.”

Rollin rose on his elbow.  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Cinnamon turned, surprised at first, then realizing she had never explained that Andrei Fetyukov had designated himself a short tail spy.  “I was thinking of Fetyukov. He told me he was a short tail spy – no wife, no children, no parents, no one who could be compromised.  I guess he thought it made him … I don’t know…agile?”

Rollin smirked. “Lonely too.”

She shared his smile.  “Probably.”

He pulled her close again and they lay together in the moonlight.  Then Rollin spoke softly.  “Cin, you’re worried about your long tail?”

Rollin feared as much.  “I don’t like that this guy is out there.”

“I know. Me neither.” 

“Is there anything Jim-“

Cinnamon cut him off.  “No. Nothing. I tried. I think he wants to, but his hands are tied.”

Rollin sat up.  “This is ridiculous. The things you have done for your country! The only reason he wants revenge is because you did your job so well!”

“I know.  A little ironic.”  Cinnamon caressed his arm, hoping to calm him down.

“Rollin, the only thing getting me through this is knowing you’re here with us.”

Rollin hung his head.  He started to speak and thought better of it.

“What?”  Cinnamon asked.

Rollin shook his head.  “Nothing to worry about.”

“Tell me, Rollin.”

“Do you want to do it?”

“I’m not going to leave you, you or Jennifer.”

“How long is the shoot?”

“I’m not doing it.”

She was insistent.   “How long?”

“Three weeks tops, but it’s moot.”

Cinnamon sat up.  “Would you do it if we came with you?”

“What are you talking about? What about school? Jen can’t be out that long.”

“Weren’t you the one telling me about all the things you learned outside the classroom?”

“That didn’t seem to carry much weight before.” He treaded carefully.

“I apologize for that.”

Rollin was still cautious.  “And what about your work?”

“I think I’m owed a break.”

Rollin watched her carefully.  She met his eye.  Their eyes held each other in a lock for a few moments.  Finally, he nodded.  She smiled.  He pulled her to him firmly, his lips meeting hers.

++++++++

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