Shari stares at me. “I don’t expect you to understand,” she says, her voice even. “I have done what I had to do—”
“To protect yourself and your lifestyle. You have spoken to me about sacrifice, yet you know nothing of it, Shari,” I spit.
“Kate, don’t think that my sacrifices haven’t been as difficult as yours because they aren’t as dramatically visible,” she fumes. “We are different people, Kate—”
“Please, explain that to me! How are we genetically similar enough to be matched for mentoring, and yet conveniently different enough to justify your actions?”
“Our lives have taken very different trajectories. While genetically similar, our social experiences have been significantly different. You judge me, but you don’t understand my life just as I don’t understand yours,” she says softly. “I wish I understood—I’ve tried, but...you and Eric. The way you feel about him. It’s so impractical, Kate. Look at the mess it’s caused. Can’t you see the negative impact—”
“Shari, you don’t understand,” I sigh, the anger rushing out of me. How could she? The closest thing she has had to a relationship of that magnitude is...me. And I am leaving. Shari is hurting, too, I realize. And I am berating her.
“Remember our weekly lunches?” I say, a sad smile on my lips. She nods, taken off guard. “You helped me figure out the software before my first health consultation. I was so frustrated,” I say, a small laugh escaping my lips. “You watched Tal and Bentley more times than I can count. You held me when my mom died,” I say, scrunching my nose, trying to hold back tears.
“Kate, I—”
“No, it’s okay, Shari. I don’t get a lot of what has happened recently, but I want you to know that I’m grateful for the impact you have had on me. Thank you for always being there for me.”
She nods, emotion uncharacteristically present on her face.
“I love you. I wish things had gone differently,” I say, tears stinging the corners of my eyes.
“Me too,” she whispers, looking down. For a moment, neither of us moves, and then the display goes dark. I am left staring at the cupboard facade.
The door opens and Bentley walks in, hanging his bag on a hook and peeking inside the cubes.
“Are those my clothes?” he asks.
“Most of them,” I say. “You can go check and see if I missed anything important.”
As he bounces off to his room, I resume my game. Leah waits patiently to see my head peek around the corner of the cabinet. On my hands and knees, I slowly creep forward until I catch her eager eyes, then quickly retreat, sending her into a fit of giggles. She crawls as fast as she can toward me, drool dripping from her bottom lip in her excitement. As she rounds the corner, I laugh and cheer for her to get closer, then scoop her up into my arms and tickle underneath her chin.
Not to be left out, Beth squeals in the other room. She isn’t as adept at getting around, but I know if I tease her enough, she will follow. I crawl her direction with Leah following close behind, grabbing my toes when I pause. As we come into view, Beth’s frustrated expression quickly gives way to a broad smile. Sitting squarely on her bottom, she scoots, refusing to move to her hands and knees at first. Such a stubborn thing. She’ll pull herself up all day, but avoids crawling with everything she’s got. Slowly, as I mime crawling and point to her hands, she leans forward.
“You can do it,” I coo. “C’mon!” As if on cue, Leah rockets around my legs, energizing Beth with a little sibling rivalry. She pinches her lips in determination and moves her arms, allowing her knees to follow. I cheer and urge her forward while Leah looks at me, attempting to confirm that the celebration is actually for her.
“Mom, I put my hat in the cube. That’s the only thing you missed,” Bentley says, sitting next to us. I sit up, looking at him.
“How are you doing, bud?” I ask.
“Good,” he sighs. “I am really going to miss Beth and Leah.”
My throat tightens. “I know, me too.”
“Why can’t we take them?” he asks for the hundredth time.
“I—”
“I know, Mom. You don’t have to tell me again. I just like to ask it,” he says, leaving my side and chasing them around the room.
92 Nick
“Do you see it?” I ask Bentley. His face is pressed against the window, eyes searching the landscape. A tiny circle of fog appears in front of his lips.
“No,” he whispers.
“Keep looking,” I say, smiling. It should only be a few seconds more, considering that my eyes hit a foot higher than his.
Suddenly, he gasps. “That’s it,” he says softly. “I can’t believe how big it is. Is that really it?”
“It is. The Pacific Ocean,” I answer. Kate watches us, sitting quietly in the seat next to Bentley. I catch her eye and a small smile lifts the corner of her mouth. It’s something.
“Is that where we are going?” he asks.
“Close,” I say. “We still have another hour or so.” His shoulders slump. “Bent, when we arrive, you will only be a fifteen minute walk from the coast. We’re going south, not further inland.” His energy returns at this revelation and I can’t help but laugh. Movement catches my eye and I notice Kate twisting and untwisting her fingers.
“Nervous?” I ask and she nods quickly. “There’s nothing to be nervous about,” I assure her. “The hard part is already over.”
At that, she turns her head and looks out the window. I sigh, regretting bringing it up. Hours earlier, Shari and I loaded up supplies into this transport vehicle while Kate and Bent spent their last moments with the girls. My heart aches, envisioning her face as she hugged them goodbye. Holding their pudgy fingers in her hands, kissing their round cheeks. Beth and Leah laughed and kicked, unaware that today was anything but an ordinary day. She hasn’t said two words since getting in the car, and I don’t blame her.
I stare at her, unabashed. Watching her touch Beth and Leah, feeling every inch of them as if committing their arms, their ears, their hair to memory, resonated with me. Because that’s all I want to do: memorize every part of her. The way her eyelashes curve, the line of her jaw against her slender neck. The way her hair falls along her collarbone, brushing the edge of her cotton shirt. Her fingers, perched on the seat, arms long against her side. Her chest, rising and falling. Alive. Here. With me.
As if understanding my thoughts, her head turns and our eyes meet. We stare at each other, unblinking.
“Some of it is really dark blue and some of it is lighter,” Bentley says, still fixated on the expanse of water in the distance.
“It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it,” I say, looking away and clearing my throat. Kate leans her body across the seat and shifts, moving next to me. Bentley doesn’t notice as she wraps her fingers around mine.
“I’ve been avoiding saying goodbye to you,” she says softly. Almost immediately, I can’t breathe. Tears fill my eyes, any strength I previously thought I had evaporating.
“Kate, I can’t—”
“I have to, Nick. I can’t leave forever without telling you how I feel.”
“It doesn’t matter at this point,” I choke out, “and I don’t think I can take—”
“You don’t have to say anything,” she assures me, turning my face to hers. “But I need you to hear it,” she whispers, her eyes pleading. My heart squeezes and a tear drops, hitting the collar of my shirt.
“Nick,” she says smiling, “when I first met you, I was impressed. You expressed yourself in a way that belied your age and experience. Your body and mind are intimidating, to say the least,” she laughs, glancing down at my chest and I can’t help but smile. “Over the last month, something has shifted in you. You went from being unsure of yourself—trying to prove your worth in our home, in your work—to becoming this pillar of strength. You moved forward with research you believed in. You stood up to Carole Berg, knowing it could literally cost you everything, because you felt like it was the right th
ing to do. You are giving up people you care about because you feel like it’s the right thing to do. This is Tier 1, Nick. You are it.”
I shake my head. “No, Kate,” I say, my face twisted. “I did it for you. I wanted to help you, to fix the problem I created. It wasn’t altruism, it was guilt,” I choke out.
She smiles. “It isn’t true, Nick. Sure, it may have started out that way, but you figured out how to help me a long time ago. You could have administered treatment and none of this would have happened, but you didn’t. You questioned the Committee and didn’t turn a blind eye like so many others have. That had nothing to do with me and you know it. At this point, I am simply a representation of the many poor decisions the Committee has made.”
I stare at her, tears still streaming down my cheeks.
“I tell you this,” she continues, “because I want you to know what I see. A man who is solid, a force. You have started something, Nick, and it isn’t going to stop here. You have to see this through. You don’t need me.”
I look down, gripping her hand.
“I am so grateful,” she says, her eyes brimming with tears, “that we were here for each other. Thank you for agreeing to pair with me, even after I hurt you that day. Thank you for fighting for me, even at great personal loss. Thank you for building a family with me, even if only for a short time, and thank you—” she stops, pulling in a few staggered breaths, “—for taking care of Beth and Leah when I can’t.” I pull both her hands close to my chest. “Nick, I love you. It’s different than the way I love Eric, and I know that probably sounds pathetic, but I can’t describe it any other way. If there was some way to keep us all together in some weird family, I would do it!” she says, laughing and I snort. I get it. Tragically, I understand now. Because letting her go, I imagine, feels—in some small way—comparable to what she felt leaving Eric.
“I love you, too,” I say. She slips her hand from beneath mine and touches my jaw, lifting it toward her. Moving close, she kisses me. Wrapping my arms around her back, I pull her close and kiss her back, gently. Though it only lasts for a moment, I cling to it. Laying her head on my shoulder, I wrap my arms around her and hold tight. One last time.
93 Kate
Something shakes and my eyes fling open. Lifting my head from Nick’s chest, I see that we have stopped. Bentley is passed out on the seat next to us. I shake Nick’s shoulder gently and smile as his eyelids flutter open.
“We’re here,” I say, keeping my face still, though excitement builds within me. Having done all of the hard things, there’s nothing left to do but see him. See them. Finally, something good.
Nick lifts himself off the seat and stretches. “Should we let him sleep?”
“I don’t know. What happens now?”
“It will be a bit before Eric and Tal arrive,” Nick says nervously. “I wanted to have everything unloaded so that we could—”
“Are you trying to avoid seeing them?” I ask, incredulous. “Nick, that’s not an option. Eric will want to see you—”
“I don’t know if that’s true, Kate. I have been keeping him from you all this time.”
“Eric won’t see it that way. Does he—” I stop, eyes wide, my fears suddenly rushing back in full force.
“He knows who you are, Kate. He remembers everything,” Nick says softly.
“Did Berg give them back?” I ask.
“Something like that,” he says, moving past me to unload.
As I step out of the vehicle, I scan the location, taking in my surroundings. It is definitely overgrown, but there is vegetation everywhere. The soil must be good. The shelter is small, but isn’t as dilapidated as I had imagined. Not knowing what else to do, I follow Nick into the holding compartment and begin hauling boxes.
When we are finished, I wake Bentley. He practically bounces to the ground, exploring the area immediately. Before he can escape, Nick hands him a sandwich, passing one to me as well. Taking a bite, a low hum in the air sends my eyes skyward.
“What is that?” I ask.
“Eric,” he says, standing and closing the doors to the compartment. “That’s my cue,” he says.
“Nick, please,” I beg. “Please stay, just for a minute.” Though he doesn’t agree, he moves a little less hastily.
Slowly, the hum grows in intensity and Bentley points at a black shape in the distance.
“What is it?” he asks.
“A helicopter,” Nick states, and Bentley’s eyes go wide.
“We have those?” he yells in excitement. Nick laughs with his mouth full, nearly spitting out his bite of sandwich. He moves next to Bent, wrapping his arm around his shoulder. The noise is loud enough now that I can’t hear what they are saying, but Bent is fixated on him. Suddenly, he throws his arms around his neck and holds tight. I look away, not wanting to interrupt their moment. When a hand touches my back, I turn to see Bent’s face staring into mine. He reaches for my hand and pulls me closer to the shelter.
We watch as the helicopter draws closer, holding our ears as the wind whips around us. It touches down in a clearing and, with blades still spinning, the door opens. Two figures climb out and reach up to retrieve duffel bags. Everything and everyone safely on the ground, the helicopter lifts back into the sky and heads back in the direction from which it appeared.
I stand, fixed to the spot, alert. The two figures pick up their gear and begin trudging toward us. My eyes squint, trying to make out their faces. Suddenly, the taller figure stops, dropping the bag, and begins to run. Without thinking, I drop my sandwich and sprint toward him. Breathless, with legs pumping, I finally get close enough to make out his features. Though I knew it was him, seeing the familiar outline of his face sends electricity flooding through my body. I run faster, my shoes flying through the grass. When we meet, he swings me into the air and I grip his shoulders, surprised at their strength. His body is thicker, fuller somehow. I kiss his face through my tears, squeezing so tight I think I might burst.
Noticing someone next to us, I stop and gasp. It’s Tal, but he’s...tall. And masculine. I fling my arms around him, sending him backward. He catches himself and sobs into my shoulder. Something hits my waist, and I glance down to see Bentley gripping us tightly. I laugh at the impossibility of it all. We are here together. After touching Tal’s face, I turn, remembering Nick. He stands awkwardly next to the shelter, kicking the dirt with his shoe. Meeting Eric’s eyes, I grab his hand and walk speedily toward him.
“Nick,” Eric calls and he looks up. Without saying another word, Eric moves toward him and pulls him into an embrace. “Thank you,” he says, loud enough that I can make out his words. Nick claps him on the back, eventually stepping back.
“Eric, I—” he stammers.
“I owe you everything,” Eric cuts him off. “How did you find us?”
My eyes flit between them, not understanding.
“It wasn’t hard,” Nick says. “I’m sorry it had to be so abrupt.”
“Thanks, Nick,” Tal pipes in.
Nick looks at both of them and nods. “I have to get going. I’ve unloaded your supplies and enough medical essentials to last all of your lifetimes—” he pauses, grinning, then thinks better of it. “Good luck,” he says, giving a small wave and moving to the door of the transport.
“Nick,” I say. He stops, but doesn’t turn. I can’t finish my sentence. I’ve said everything I wanted to say, but somehow it doesn’t feel like enough. He walks forward and lifts himself inside the vehicle. We watch, entranced, as it drives down the road.
The weight of our situation hits me in the silence. My body is paralyzed momentarily, fear coursing through me. What have we done? Our children will have nothing. We have nothing, I think, glancing around at the empty landscape.
“Kate,” Eric says softly. I turn, taking in his face, strange and familiar all at once. “Welcome home,” he says, his voice tight with emotion. The boys embrace and Bentley follows Tal into the shelter. Eric pulls me close and we stand t
here. We could stand here forever, I realize. We have nothing pressing, no assignments to report for, nobody to check in with. Tears spill across my cheeks, the immensity of it—all of it—simultaneously lifting from my shoulders and settling in.
As Eric presses against me, something hard hits my ribs. Pulling back, I look down. Not seeing anything on Eric that could have caused the sensation, I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out something familiar.
“Did you forget to turn in your sensor?” Eric asks, and I look at him, my eyebrows furrowed. “It’s ok,” he assures me, “it won’t work here anyway. We can keep it as a memento.”
“This isn’t mine,” I say softly, turning the small, blue indicator light toward him.
Bonus Chapter
Chapter 22 - Nick
Afterword
Like what you just read? By all means, share it with your kids and your optometrist, but would you also do me a favor?
Leaving a review on Amazon or Goodreads is super important for new books…and they also give me the warm fuzzies! I read every single one that comes through!
Now, on to Book 3!!
Part 3
Tier 3
Contents
Foreword
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Tier Trilogy: Books 1-3 Page 47