Tier Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Cindy Gunderson

  “Yes. It will be hard. But honestly, being with Nick has made me less nervous about it. I know I will miss Eric forever, but Nick is wonderful. It makes my decision easier, knowing that I can do what is best and still have something to look forward to. I know I should be willing to do what is best regardless, but...I guess I am not there yet.”

  “You are willing, and that’s all that matters. I have to go, but I hope all goes well today. I know it will. You and Eric are strong.”

  “Thanks, Shari. I will call you later.” She waves and signs off.

  Chapter 34

  The boys and I are waiting in our meeting room. Tal, whether consciously or subconsciously, is aware that this is more than just a meeting. His shoulders slump and he hasn’t said two words since we arrived. Bent, on the other hand, sits in his chair, legs swinging, humming a tune that only he knows. Oblivious as far as I can tell.

  It’s a few minutes after our appointment time, and I find myself getting antsy. Finally, the door opens and Eric walks in. I catch my breath. He looks awful. He is thin with dark shadows under his eyes, his face almost ashen. My heart wells up in concern. How hard are they working him?

  Bentley runs and hugs him tightly around the thighs. Tal walks forward with his hands in his pockets, slightly hesitant, but Eric reaches out and grabs his shoulders, pulling him in, squishing Bentley in the process. They all laugh and fall against the wall. Eric has tears in his eyes and, I realize, so do I. He looks up at me and time seems to stand still for a minute. His eyes are desperate and almost animalistic in their intensity. The air feels thick, and I have trouble breathing. My body begins to shake uncontrollably.

  “Hold it together, Kate,” I mentally chastise myself. He whispers something to the boys and they let go, allowing him to stand. Walking forward, he nearly crushes me with his embrace. His stubbled face seems to become a part of me, pressed so tightly between my neck and shoulder. I squeeze him back, knowing that we won’t be able to say everything we want to say today. I let loose all of the thoughts of fear, frustration, love, longing, desire, and gratitude, allowing them to flow into the air around us. I visualize them seeping into him and hope that he knows how much I love him. That I will never stop loving him.

  When he pulls away, he traces his hand down my arm, and places something in the palm of my hand, so subtly that I barely notice it. I take my cues from him and place the small slip of paper in my back pocket as he retreats to give his attention to the boys. Should I have written him something? Why is he being so secretive? The questions swirl in my mind, making it impossible for me to focus.

  “So, how have you been?” I ask, attempting to create normal conversation.

  When I speak, it’s as if I have broken down any last defenses Eric may have had. A sob escapes his lips and he has a difficult time composing himself. My body is frozen, watching him break. I have never seen him like this.

  “I have missed you all so much,” he says, pulling the boys to either side of him. “Tell me everything I’ve missed.”

  The boys immediately launch into all of the fun things we have done, all of the new conditioning they have experienced. Bentley mentions Nick a few times, and I see Eric biting his lip, doing his best to hold it together.

  “What about you, Dad?” Tal asks. “How is your research going?”

  “It’s great. We have quite a few pairs moving forward already.” He pauses, not meeting my eyes, and I want to throw up. “We were able to find more pairs than expected in some of the other territories, so we are working around the clock training teams to support them. I am tired and fulfilled and...really sad that it’s taking me away from you,” he finishes softly. Bentley reaches up and wipes a tear from his neck.

  “Mom said—” Tal starts. “Mom said that you might have to do this full time. That we might not see you much anymore.”

  Eric sighs, and the tears roll in an unending torrent down his cheeks. “I have tried to find any way possible to be home and be with you, Tal. I want you to know that if there is any way, I will find it. Right now...that just doesn’t seem to be possible. It’s not fair for your Mom to be alone all the time.”

  Bentley pipes up, “She’s not alone, she has Nick! He can help her until you come back.”

  Eric laughs, concealing another sob, and strokes Bentley’s head. “I think that’s a great idea, bud. Look at you, looking out for your Mom.”

  He is completely wrecked. I feel flayed open on the inside, and I don’t know what to say, or if I can say anything at all. The guilt of being with Nick last night is unbearable. I knew how hard this would be, so why did I ask for this meeting? I guess I thought that Eric would walk in uncaring and distant, the way it has been for weeks, and it would solidify my decision? Why did he choose now to be vulnerable!?

  This Eric makes me shrink. Who would do this to the person they love? The horribly tragic piece of it all is that I really thought I was helping. Doing the right thing. But, obviously not. And what about Nick? How can I continue on now, knowing that I have absolutely destroyed a person I love, the father of my children? I am dizzy and lean on a chair for support. Eric wipes the tears off his face and gives the kids another hug.

  “Dad, can you come home for a while?” Tal asks.

  Eric laughs. “I wish I could, bud. I wish I could.” To me he says, “Kate, I will call you tomorrow to talk logistics. Other than that, I won’t really be available after this weekend.”

  I nod. I don’t trust myself to do anything else. After he leaves, I rush out with the boys, completely forgetting about their appointments, and head home.

  Later that night as I am taking off my clothes to get ready for bed, I remember the slip of paper I put in my jeans pocket. I frantically search for it, opening it up to see that it is, indeed, a long note from Eric. The paper is thin and folded into a small square. The print is nearly microscopic, and I force myself to read slowly.

  “Kate. I can’t do this. I know you might be decided, but I have to try. If you have moved on with Nick, I respect that. If you are undecided...I plead with the intensity of a broken man: please come with me. I don’t know where we’ll go, or what we’ll do, but I want it to be together. I have had plenty of time to think about my options. There is a part of me that wants to embrace this path, but a much larger part of me wants you and the boys. I don’t know if that means there is something wrong with me, but I have done all that has been asked. If my brain is pushing for this, there must be a reason. I am choosing to trust my instincts, and hoping Berg will understand. I want to discuss our options and find a different solution. I am allowed to call to finalize things after our meeting. I don’t have a plan, but I thought we could meet at the Peace Celebration next weekend. I know you will be there with the boys, and I have asked to attend. If you are in, just mention the celebration at any point in our call. If I don’t hear it...know that I will be okay, and I love you. Forever. --Eric”

  The celebration. I had completely forgotten about it. Our lives have been so distracting and out of routine that it was completely off my radar. My mind goes into planning overdrive. I need to prepare our traditional meal with the boys and see which activities they want to attend. They usually love the shows and live music. Though I haven’t participated in the Ceremony regularly, we always fully participate in this one opportunity for family frivolity. The organizers always include something completely silly and impractical that we get to enjoy for the evening. Last year, it was fireworks. I am sure this years’ event has been announced and I just missed it.

  “Wait,” I stop myself. “This is what I’m thinking about? That’s what I got from this? That I need to plan our traditional celebration activities?” I throw myself onto the bed in disgust. This note changes everything and I am thinking about the celebration!?

  I read Eric’s note again and feel my body shutting down, the full weight of it hitting me. Deep, wracking sobs of relief and horror burst from my body, and I throw the note out of the way so it won’t get hit with
my tears. What a mess. I am with Nick. We are supposed to go tomorrow to submit for pairing. The boys will be doing their first session of reversal, since I failed to show up today.

  I’m doing all of this for Eric! How do I know if he is making the right choice now? I previously weighed the options and decided I couldn’t be the person who made him regret his life forever. Can I be that person now? Can I trust that he won’t regret this in five years? My body aches to be with him, but I still don’t see how it can end well. On the other hand, can I continue on this path knowing it isn’t what Eric wants? I imagine explaining this to Nick and my head begins to throb, pulsing so hard that I wonder if my skull is up for containing the pressure.

  I reach for the note, folding it up and placing it in my drawer, then move to the washroom to splash water on my face. I have to sleep. I have to process.

  Chapter 35

  What do I tell Nick? This is the only question on my mind when I wake up, feeling slightly more sane, but still missing the answers I so desperately need. I am supposed to meet with Nick this afternoon. Would it be appropriate to ask him to wait until after the celebration? That would give me time to think, time for the boys to do therapy...if we go forward with that. Every part of me feels stiff, and my neck aches. I have to decompress before I get another headache.

  The door to my bedroom opens.

  “Hey Mom!” Bentley says, jumping up on the bed with me. I grab him and hug him close.

  “I can’t breathe,” he says laughing.

  “Sorry. I needed a hug this morning,” I say, plastering on a smiling facade.

  “I’m hungry.”

  “I knew you would be,” I laugh. “Go on out and I’ll come make breakfast.” He runs out with his pants falling down, as usual. I sit up and tap my sensor, sending a message to Nick.

  Hey, yesterday was rough. I think we are going to need a bit more time before officially moving forward with this. Can we plan on waiting until after the Peace Celebration? I completely forgot about it, and the boys look forward to it every year. I am hoping to do some preparation with them this week. Want to join in on celebration planning tomorrow?

  P.S. I am so sorry to put this off. I am doing my best, Nick. I know this isn’t easy for you.

  I know this sounds like a total cop-out, but it’s the best I can do. The repercussions of these decisions determine everything and it’s too much for my brain to take in. I breathe. I will take Eric’s lead and trust my instincts, as well.

  Entering the kitchen, I assemble oats, salt, and apples to make oatmeal. Tal is going to complain, but it’s all I have the energy for right now. I squeeze half a lemon into a glass of water and take a drink while I wait for the pot to boil.

  “Bent woke me up,” Tal complains, pointing to Bentley as they enter the room.

  “It’s time for breakfast!” Bentley announces excitedly.

  “Let’s let people wake up naturally, okay?” I say. “If he sleeps in reeeallly long, I’ll let you know when to wake him up.”

  “K,” says Bentley, somewhat disappointed.

  “Hey guys, guess what is happening next week.”

  They stare at me blankly.

  “It’s the Peace Celebration!” I say with exaggerated enthusiasm.

  “What? That’s next week?” says Tal, as Bentley looks at me wide-eyed.

  “Yes! I have been so busy, I completely forgot about it.”

  “I remember they said something in conditioning last week, but I forgot to remind you!” Bentley says, throwing his arms up in the air. His energy is contagious.

  “You guys have been busy, too. It’s totally fine, we still have plenty of time to plan,” I say, giving the oatmeal a final stir, then reach into the fridge to pull out the blueberries and walnuts. Tal pulls two bowls out of the cupboard, and Bentley picks the spoons out of the drawer. I am impressed that Tal hasn’t said anything yet about the oatmeal. Maybe all this excitement is a good enough distraction.

  “What are they doing this year?” Tal asks.

  “I’m not actually sure. I was thinking I would look it up after breakfast.”

  “Can you look now? We could read about it while we eat!”

  “Let me take a few bites and then I will,” I say, hurriedly adding my blueberries and slurping some of it down. I pull out my tablet and turn on the display, directing it to the community website. The first image we see is of a gigantic balloon.

  “That’s a hot air balloon! We learned about those at school!” Bentley says.

  “I’m guessing...that this is the main event at the celebration,” I say as I manipulate the image to see the information below it. “Yep, check it out. It says here that they will be doing a balloon launch on Saturday morning, early. Hey Bent, maybe you could wake Tal up that day,” I say teasing. Tal rolls his eyes but smiles. “Do you guys want to do it? I’ve never been on one. It looks like we can take a ride if we want, or we can just watch.”

  “Aren’t they really dangerous? Like they fly with a ball of fire in them or something?” Tal asks.

  “I think there’s definitely a reason we don’t use them anymore, but I don’t think they are dangerous for small rides. Who knows—I haven’t actually ever seen one in person!”

  The boys both get a kick out of me not knowing something. I remember when the air of mystery surrounding my parents expertise began to burst for me, and I felt the same way. The best was when I knew something they didn’t. One time, my dad was having trouble figuring out how to use his new health sensor. I was eight at the time and had just seen my instructor showing someone else how to use one at conditioning. I immediately jumped in and taught Dad how it worked. The look on his face was priceless. After that, I wanted to earn that look from him every single day.

  I take another bite of oatmeal and see a call coming through on my sensor. It’s Eric and I panic, almost choking on my food. I haven’t had enough time to figure out a plan of action. Tal reaches over and answers before I can stop him.

  “Dad! Are you coming home today?”

  I hear Eric take in a deep breath. “I wish! I’m actually a territory away. How are you guys doing?”

  “Mom is showing us the hot air balloons for the Peace Celebration!” says Bentley excitedly.

  “She is? That’s so cool. Hey, can I actually talk to Mom privately for a minute?”

  “Yes,” I say, laughing at the boys’ pouty faces. “I promise you can talk for a few more minutes after, okay?”

  That seems to appease them. I turn my sensor to private and walk out onto the patio. “Hey,” I say quietly.

  “Hey, Kate.” There is a long pause. I don’t know what to say. I mean, I do know what I want to say, but...it’s complicated. How do I tell Eric that Nick and I...How do I tell Nick...I can’t even form a complete sentence in my brain, let alone out loud. Eric breaks the silence, clearing his throat.

  “So, like I mentioned, I am just calling to figure out logistics. I need to pick up my things from the house, and I thought that might be best to do when the kids aren’t home.” He stammers, struggling to get through this.

  His face from yesterday haunts me. I have never seen him in such terrible condition before. And it isn’t like we haven’t been through hard times together. We have both lost our parents and—my mind transports me to four years ago.

  We had been cleared to have a third child. We conceived easily, as always, but lost the baby at around ten weeks gestation. It was terrifying for me. I had felt some cramping and called my doctor, but he told me that there really wasn’t much to do besides wait and see. At that young age, the baby wouldn’t be viable. All tests up to that point had seemed normal, and I think that’s why it was so hard. We had already made plans.

  We hadn’t told the boys yet, since I was still in the first trimester, so at least they were spared. Eric took it extremely hard, mostly because analysis showed that his DNA contribution caused the miscarriage. It was doubly hard because we found out shortly thereafter that we were not cl
eared to try again. He felt like a failure, despite my constant insistence that it wasn’t the case, and took a few months to come out of it. Even then, he never looked as bad as he did yesterday. The pain in his voice strikes me deeply, and I can’t handle it.

  “Maybe you could do that the morning of the Peace Celebration,” I blurt out. In that moment, I don’t know if I’m right, but I do know what I am going to do. I care about Nick, but this is Eric. I have tried embracing the societal ideal, but I can’t live in a world where I know I didn’t try every possible option to stay with the man I love and have committed to. If we crash and burn, if Berg moves us to Tier 2, if Eric becomes bitter and depressed...I guess I will have to live with that.

  I repeat to myself that this plan of action represents where I am at, nothing more. There is no blame, just observation of my brain coming to conclusions. It’s easier to accept that than feel responsible for the potential breakdown of my family. And another incredible human being. And generations of people who will suffer for my decision. I force myself to stop thinking about it.

  Eric’s voice is throaty when he speaks. “As it turns out, I asked for leave to attend, so that works great. I will be there.”

  “We were planning to attend the balloon launch in the morning,” I say. “I’m not sure what else we will be attending, but we will definitely be there at 7am.”

  “I will plan on that timing then,” he says. “Thanks for everything…” he says and trails off.

  My eyes fill with tears, and for the first time in months, my heart feels full. I will meet Eric in a week, and we will be together. I focus on that and not all of the unknowns that come along with it.

  “Have a great week, Eric.”

  “Thanks. Enjoy the balloons.”

  It’s like we are dating again. Neither one of us wants to be the first to end the call. I remember I promised the boys they could talk, so I tell Eric to hold on. They can be the ones to sign off.