Come Back To Me

by Melissa Foster

  Beau took offense to his disrespect of Samira, but said nothing, afraid of the trouble his reaction might bring. Instead, he stayed near Samira and the children.

  They waited until the sun made its arc over the desert and descended toward the dark sand. Athra made nary a sound all afternoon, nestled into her mother’s side, thumb planted in her mouth like a never-ending lollipop.

  Edham listened carefully to all that was said. The skin between his thick eyebrows tense, his dark eyes watchful of the man’s every move. When Beau passed by him, Edham reached up, his fingers trailing along Beau’s arm, as if he were making sure Beau were really there.

  Beau smiled, tussled his hair.

  Abdul Hadi spoke in harsh tones.

  The hair on the back of Beau’s neck stood on end. He pulled Suha aside, “Is there a problem?”

  Suha pulled him further away, whispering, “As part of the underground movement to save women from honor killings, they must remain emotionally unattached. Doing so allows greater strength and concentration.” She took Beau further from the children and Samira, to the opening of the tent, and leaned close to his ear. “Some women would not make it out of Iraq safely,” she explained, a risk she was willing to take.

  Beau glanced at Samira and the children. His eyes locked with Suha’s, as they stood on the edge of an unspoken understanding. He knew he would do whatever it took to keep Suha and Samira safe. They’d saved him, and he’d do the same in return.

  Maryland

  Resentment raced through Tess like a river. She sat behind her desk tapping her foot against the floor, a scowl fixed across her face. She waited for Alice to arrive. She’d spent the night tossing and turning, beating herself up over kissing Louie, and finally decided that it was Alice she was angry at, not herself.

  Alice breezed through the door with a smile. “What on earth are you doing here so early?” she asked and put a steaming cup of coffee on Tess’s desk.

  Tess pretended to be engrossed in a file, her silent fury unnoticed.

  “New client?” Alice asked.

  Tess stomped into the conference room, feeling completely inadequate at handling her inner tumult. Alice followed.

  “Something I can do?”

  Tess turned to face her, calm and stoic, “Yes. Stay away from me,” before I fire you. She turned and walked away.

  “What? Tess?” Alice rushed after Tess, “What’s going on?”

  “How could you?” Tess choked out.

  “Oh, this is about the memorial?” Alice set the files she’d been carrying down on the table and put her hand on her hip. “Just because you can’t say goodbye doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t.” She sighed, “What am I supposed to do, pretend Beau’s coming back?” She knew it was a mistake the second the words flew from her lips.

  Tess stormed out of the room.

  Alice followed. “Wait. I didn’t mean it like that. Tess, please!”

  “He’s my husband!” Tess said between clenched teeth.

  “Yeah, and he’s Robert and Carol’s son, and Kevin’s best friend,” she stared into Tess’s eyes, unwilling to relent. “Tess, he’s gone. It’s been months. He’s not coming back.”

  “Don’t say—”

  “What, Tess, don’t say the truth? You know he’s not coming back. I know you love him, we all know you love him. We know how much you hurt—”

  “I can’t listen to this,” Tess covered her face and threw herself onto the couch in her office. “Please, just go away.”

  Alice sat next to her, her back straight. “No, I won’t go away. This isn’t going to go away. You have to deal with it.”

  Tears streamed down Tess’s cheeks.

  “I know it’s hard. I know it hurts. Beau loved you more than life itself, you know that.”

  “Leave me alone,” Tess spat, her face red, eyes swollen. “Please,” she pleaded.

  Alice shook her head. “No, Tess. No one else will stand up to you. You have to move on. You have to live your life.” Tess looked at Alice with such sadness that Alice almost backed down.

  “What do you want from me, Alice? I’m working, I’m even biking again. Why isn’t that enough for you?”

  “It’s not enough for you, Tess. This isn’t about me,” Alice said gently.

  Tess stared at the floor.

  Alice rested her hand on Tess’s arm. “It sucks, Tess. I know it does.”

  Tess shook her off and rose to her feet. “You don’t know, Alice,” she spat. “You’ve never loved anyone. You’ve never breathed the same breath of a man, day after day, thinking the same thoughts, wanting the same things, wanting to touch him, to hold him, to—”

  “You’re right. I haven’t. But I have a friend who is grieving. I have two.”

  Tess squinted at her, the realization of Alice’s friendship with Kevin coming clear.

  “And the hurt that I see in them, that’s real. I may not feel the same hurt, or have felt the same love, but I’m not a cold fish, Tess. I know it hurts.”

  Tess took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  Alice went to the credenza and pulled out their secret stash—the celebratory bottle, saved for their largest sales. Today it would serve as a sanity saver. She poured a vodka tonic with a dash of lime for Tess, and one for herself, then sat down next to her on the couch.

  Tess pushed the drink away.

  “Come on, Tess. It’ll ease the pain.”

  Tess shook her head. “I’m pregnant.” Where the hell did that come from? She stared at the drink, longing for the liquid relief. Silence stretched between them as a weight Tess hadn’t realized she’d been carrying lifted from her shoulders. “What am I going to do?”

  Alice forced her slack jaw closed. “You’re what?” Before Tess could reiterate, she said, “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out.”

  ***

  Two hours later Alice was tipsy, Tess, relieved. Each lay at one end of the couch, shoes kicked off.

  “What do you see in him?” Tess asked.

  “Kevin? I don’t know if I see anything in him. I mean, it’s not like we’re dating or anything. God, that would be weird.”

  “But you hooked up with him?” Tess asked.

  Alice laughed, rolling onto her side and almost falling off of the couch, “In his dreams! We had drinks a few times. He wants to see me and a few chicks going at it,” she smirked.

  “What? Is there something I should know?” Tess laughed.

  “No!”

  “C’mon, you can tell me,” Tess egged her on.

  Alice pulled herself up to sitting position, swayed, then held onto the side of the couch for stability. “Don’t you think he’s hot?”

  “Kevin?” Tess laughed. “Cute maybe, hot? I don’t know. He’s not my type.”

  Alice ran her finger up Tess’s foot, tickling her, “Oh yeah, those short ones, those are your type!” she roared with laughter.

  Tess froze.

  Alice stifled her laugh, “What? You have to admit, Beau’s pretty shor—” Her jaw dropped open. “No!”

  Tess sat up.

  “Oh, my God! What’d you do?”

  Tess turned away, her cheeks burning.

  “Whose baby is this? Oh, my God,” worry filled her eyes.

  “Beau’s! Jesus, Alice.”

  Alice waved the thought away, “Sorry.” She pointed to the bottle that lay on the floor, “It’s that’s fault. I didn’t think…”

  Tess stood and tripped, landing on her butt. They both burst into hysterics.

  The front door of the office creaked open. Louie’s voice sailed through Tess’s open door, “Hello?”

  “Oh, shit!” Tess scrambled to get off the floor.

  Alice scooped up the bottle and the glasses. She hung onto Tess’s arm and whispered, “Quiet, he’ll hear us.” They laughed.

  “Too late.” Louie stood in the doorway wearing jeans and a gray long-sleeved shirt that read, “Just do it” across the chest.

  Alice hur
ried past him. “How à propos,” she giggled.

  “What was that about?” he asked Tess.

  Tess held on to the end of her desk and lowered herself into a leather chair, waving the comment away with her hand.

  “Did I interrupt something? A celebration?” he looked at his watch. “Well, it is eleven-forty,” he joked. “Happy hour?”

  Tess flushed. “We don’t usually do this. It was a rough morning.”

  “I can come back,” Louie offered.

  “Why are you here?” she asked, brazenly.

  Louie sat down across from Tess. He rubbed his hands nervously down his thighs. “I just thought, after last night, we should talk.”

  Butterflies swept through Tess’s stomach. She swatted the air again, “Oh, that. That was nothing.”

  “Nothing?” Louie asked.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry. It shouldn’t have happened. Just forget it.” She leaned back in her chair.

  Louie looked confused, “Oh, okay.” He hesitated then rose. “I guess I’ll be going, then.”

  Tess pretended to be busy with the files on her desk.

  “Okay, then,” he turned and walked out the door.

  When the front door closed, Tess dropped her head onto her desk with a thud. What the hell am I doing?

  ***

  The front door echoed against the headache that Tess had earned. She dropped her purse and flopped onto the couch. The ding of a Skype notification rang out from the den. Tess was on her feet in seconds, plucking away at the keyboard. A solicitous message from SkypeMarketing appeared. Tess closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. She made her way back to the couch, closing the door to the den behind her.

  Iraq

  The red night sky brought a chill to the desert. A sandstorm had come without warning, delaying the anxious group’s departure for another twenty-four hours. They unpacked enough supplies to prepare canned beans for dinner and unrolled their bedrolls. Abdul Hadi ate in silence, watchful of Beau and ignoring the women and children.

  Beau did not sleep during the night. Unease kept him alert and fearful. He watched the hulk of Abdul Hadi’s body as it moved up and down with each slumbering breath and wondered what the journey might bring.

  Athra made a soft, cooing sound in the dark.

  Beau worried how the children would fare on the trek across the desert. He reached for the photo of Tess, bringing it close to his face. He was unable to make out her fine features in the dark.

  “I’m coming,” he whispered.

  In the darkness, Samira listened.

  ***

  Morning brought anxiety. The children’s discomfort came in drones of whines. Edham followed his mother asking question after question. Beau took Edham aside and together they walked a short distance. Beau’s leg ached. Edham chattered beside him. Ten minutes later, Edham’s questions had run out, and though Beau could not understand the Arabic he spoke, he’d smiled and rested his hand on the boy’s shoulder, calming him. They returned to the tent where Zeid stewed. The cold stare Zeid aimed at Abdul Hadi would unnerve even the toughest adult. Abdul Hadi began glaring back.

  Beau tried to distract Zeid, enticing him with rocks and drawing games. Zeid would have no part of it. He remained disgruntled, angry toward the stranger who was there to help him.

  Edham separated the marbles of many colors from the majority of the pile, the solid-colored marbles.

  Beau whispered to Edham, “There are certain marbles that don’t belong to any group. They’re not noticeably big or small, not solid colors, not easily categorized, but don’t cast them aside. Those marbles are the most special ones.” He knew Edham did not understand, so instead he picked up the marbles that had been cast aside and held them close to his chest. “Special,” he said and smiled. He continued, more for his own benefit than for Edham’s, “They’re just finding their way in a big marble world, trying to blend in. It takes a special person to take those marbles as his own. It takes courage and strength to be the one to protect those marbles.”

  Edham reached for the marbles.

  Zeid guffawed.

  Abdul Hadi sneered at the boy and turned his back.

  Suha yanked Zeid’s arm and chided him in her native tongue.

  Beau had learned enough of the language to understand the mild threat she’d made, “Quiet down before your mother pays the price for your behavior.”

  Zeid stewed in silence, eyeing Abdul Hadi with a vengeance and looking at Suha as if she were the devil.

  Samira looked like a troubled teen caught between a peer and a parent, afraid to move in either direction. Beau stood next to her and motioned for her to follow him. She walked shyly behind him. Once outside the tent, she inhaled deeply.

  “This is difficult,” she said with tentative precision.

  Beau nodded.

  They sat in silence just outside their makeshift home. Samira stared at the ground, her shoulders carrying years of fear and pain. Her hands lay in her lap, one upon the other.

  “Scared?” he knew she understood the words he spoke, fear had been one of the easiest words to communicate. Suha had schooled Samira well. She understood enough of the English language to make sense of their brief conversations.

  Samira looked up, her dark eyes held the answer to his question.

  Beau leaned his head back against the hard dune.

  Suddenly Abdul Hadi’s voice boomed through the silence. He exited the tent in a rush of insistence. Suha followed. Samira was on her feet and hurrying inside before Beau registered Zeid’s wail.

  Inside the dwelling, Zeid sobbed, angrily pushing his mother’s arms away and throwing looks of spears toward Abdul Hadi. Suha mumbled under her breath. Beau instinctively grabbed Zeid’s flailing arm and pulled it away from its target—Samira’s body.

  “What are you doing?” he commanded. “You don’t hit your mother.”

  “Zeid!” Samira snapped, then continued in her language.

  Zeid tugged against Beau’s steadfast grip. “What’s going on?” he asked Suha.

  “Zeid called Abdul Hadi a traitor.”

  Abdul Hadi breathed heavily in the entryway, breathing in short, fast breaths, clouded by anger.

  Beau released Zeid’s hand, standing between him and his mother. “Suha, tell Zeid to calm down.”

  Suha sighed, as if she had no inclination to do so.

  “Suha! You cannot let him do this.”

  “The child is angry. He is his father,” she said with disgust.

  Beau stared her down. “He’s scared. He does what he knows.”

  “He knows hatred,” Abdul Hadi said.

  “Then teach him otherwise,” Beau’s voice was firm. He turned to Zeid, and spoke with jilted foreign words, “Hate will kill. Let it go.”

  Zeid spat in his direction. Edham gasped, huddling fearfully next to Athra on their bedroll.

  “There is no hope for this one,” Suha said.

  Beau shook his head. “There’s always hope.” He walked out of the fury-filled dwelling and into the heat of sun, which instantly dried the sweat from his forehead. He had become used to the treacherous heat of the desert—the feeling that a hairdryer was on his skin, full blast, at all times, the way the dry, hot air saturated his mouth when he spoke. Abdul Hadi’s hand on his shoulder startled him.

  “You are right,” Abdul Hadi said. “There is always hope.” He handed him a bottle of water. “The boy’s hate, that’s what makes this war.”

  Beau had been sent to document the changes in the Iraqi families since the inception of the war. He wondered, now, if perhaps most of those changes were invisible to the eye of the camera. He bowed his head and found himself wanting to apologize for all that the Americans had done, the hurt they’d caused, no matter what the catalyst had been. Instead, he simply nodded.

  “You cannot control where you are born, or whom you are born to,” Abdul Hadi continued, “Iraq or America.” He spoke carefully, with practiced English, taking Beau by surprise. “We sp
end our lives making up for something, no? Something we did, maybe? Something our parents did?” he shrugged.

  Chapter Ten

  “I think she’s made progress,” Alice said across the bar of the crowded restaurant.

  “I feel so guilty. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen her.” Kevin eyed a tall brunette across the bar. He and Alice had been meeting regularly since shortly after Beau had died, filling the gap that Beau and Tess had left in each other’s lives.

  Alice eyed the brunette. “Please, Kevin, have some taste,” she said with disdain.

  “What? She’s totally hot.”

  “If you like the kind that tries too hard,” Alice said.

  “I happen to admire a woman who does anything hard,” he laughed.

  Alice rolled her eyes.

  “So what’s the plan for Halloween?” he lifted an eyebrow.

  “No plans. I guess Tess will give out candy in her neighborhood, like usual.” Alice had forgotten that Halloween was only days away. She tried to remember what her costume had been the previous year. Darth Vader, she remembered with a smile. “What are you doing?”

  “Party,” he said, still eyeing the brunette, who smiled back at him.

  “Focus, Kevin,” Alice drew his face back toward hers with one finger. “Where? Whose party?”

  “Neighbor’s. You don’t know him. He manages a bookstore in D.C. Not your type.”

  “Like I care,” Alice quipped.

  “Come with me?” he asked. “Maybe we can get Tess out of the house a bit? Dress her up, you know? You two can be Cuddy and Thirteen. I’ll be Dr. House.”

  “Right, a hot bisexual and a woman you could never conquer? That should be fun.”

  “Seriously,” he said, “it’ll be fun. Besides, Tess needs to get out.”

  Alice scanned the men at the bar, caught the attention of a dark-skinned burly man who looked like he smelled of a construction site. Bingo!