To Have and to Hold

by Fern Michaels

  “In my stupidity, I would have made you two girls clones of myself. If your father hadn’t been shot down, if I hadn’t met Della and Donald, I might have ruined your lives. You shook me, Betsy, when you rebelled, but deep inside I cheered you. You forced both Ellie and me to change. So, some good did come of all this.”

  Kate’s daughters wrapped her in their arms. They cried together for the past, the present, and the future.

  A long time later Ellie said, “Do you think Dad will ever be okay?”

  “I think so,” Kate said, not knowing if it was the truth.

  “I’ll take over the business,” Betsy said. “If I screw up, don’t blame me.”

  “I’ll be watching you, big sister. Just because you’re the oldest doesn’t mean you’re the smartest,” Ellie teased.

  “Oh, yeah, who else do you know who got their doctorate at the age of twenty-six?” Betsy retorted.

  They were needling one another. To Kate it sounded wonderful. This generation had such a strange way of communicating. For a few minutes she felt almost happy.

  “Why don’t you girls go in the hot tub. I have to make some phone calls to see if I can get some appointments tomorrow for your father. Bring the phone down with you and some sodapop. With all the lies I’ll be telling, my throat is going to be dry.”

  They listened, the water bubbling and whirling about them as Kate called one person and then another until she got the promises she needed. “A distant cousin is here from Poland and needs extensive, immediate medical help. Can we schedule the appointments all for the same day? ... Of course I’ll do a rendering of your brother-in-law’s house. It will be my pleasure. How about by Thanksgiving? . . . Sooner? Absolutely. I’ll drop everything and do it right away. Call the office and give them the addresses.... Framed? I wouldn’t have it any other way. Thank you, Stephen.”

  “What say we fake him out, Mom, and I do it,” Betsy said, giggling. “I’m going to flatter you now, and tell you I’ve seen just about every one of your renderings in town. I even bought one that was hanging in the bank. What do you think of that?”

  Kate laughed. “Tell me how much you paid for it.” Betsy told her. She laughed again and said, “Guess I made a hundred and fifty percent profit on that one.”

  “Two years ago I had the flu and nothing to do, so I amused myself by trying to copy the rendering. I had it matted and framed, and except for my signature, you wouldn’t be able to tell them apart.”

  “She said with no trace of modesty,” Kate said, and smiled.

  “If you got it, you got it. All I’m trying to say is I can do the renderings, and if you feel they’re as good as yours, maybe you’ll sign them for this guy. It’ll make me feel like I’ve done my part in helping Dad.”

  “That’s not very honest,” Kate said.

  Betsy’s mood and tone of voice changed instantly. “I don’t want to hear about honest right now. Just take a look at the position we’re all in. Let’s just forget that word right now.”

  Trying to head off something she didn’t want to get involved in, Ellie said, “What about me? Do I carry your pencils or what?”

  “You carry my pencils and add the numbers in the ledgers. Maybe we can shame this guy into paying.”

  “Not a chance,” Kate said. “You might give some thought to signing them with just ‘Starr’ and the date. The next ones I do I can sign the same way. It’ll make it less dishonest.”

  “I’m ready for bed,” Ellie said, climbing out of the tub. “This thing knocks you on your butt, but you sleep like a baby afterward.”

  There was anxiety in Kate’s voice when she said, on her way to her bedroom, “Are we sleeping together?”

  “Yes,” both young women said at the same time, following her.

  “Good. I guess we better leave all the lights on in case your father wakes up. We should check on him, too.”

  Kate stopped short as she peeked in on her husband. “Oh, my, he’s sleeping on the floor. He must have six blankets wrapped around him.”

  “Maybe he thought he’d fall out of the bed. It is kind of high,” Ellie said.

  “Maybe he’s used to sleeping on the floor,” Betsy said. “Maybe he didn’t have a bed. This carpet is thick enough to be a mattress.”

  “He looks so ... alone,” Kate murmured. She advanced into the room and dropped to her knees. She was about to brush his hair back from his forehead when he woke, his eyes filled with total, complete terror. He huddled into himself and muttered something in Russian that Kate couldn’t understand. “It’s Kate, Patrick. It’s all right,” she crooned, patting his shoulder. “Nothing is going to happen to you. Not while I’m here.”

  “Kate? Kate?”

  “Yes, Patrick, it’s Kate. Go back to sleep. I’ll stay here with you for a while.” Her touch was gentle when she brushed at his hair. Because she couldn’t remember any lullabies, she started to croon, “Mary had a little lamb, its fleece was—”

  “White as snow, and everywhere—”

  “Mary went, the lamb was sure to go.”

  “Sing it again, Kate.”

  Kate waved off her daughters. When she finished with Mary and her lamb, she started on Jack and Jill. There was a smile on her husband’s face when he drifted back to sleep. Kate’s heart swelled in her chest as her tears splashed on her husband’s shirt-clad shoulder. Anger, hot and scorching, rushed through her. They hadn’t even given him clothes. A change of underwear, he’d said, that was all. Because he wanted to be warm, he slept in his clothes. She wanted to kill someone for what they’d done to him. “I promise you, Patrick, your day is coming,” she whispered.

  In the morning, Kate handed Patrick an overlarge cable-knit sweater. “It’s chilly out,” she said. “We’re going to Los Angeles. I made appointments for you. It’s going to be a full day, Patrick. Are you up to it?”

  “Yes, Kate,” Patrick said quietly.

  “Tomorrow we can get you some new clothes. Or the girls can follow us later. They can shop for you so the clothes will be here when you get back. Yes, that’s a good idea. Do you agree?”

  “Do you think it’s a good idea?”

  “Yes, I do, but what do you think?”

  “I think I want my own things. I think I want to throw away these clothes. Not the sweater. You gave me the sweater. Yes, it’s a good idea. Did I do that right, Kate? Did I make a decision? I’m not allowed—I wasn’t allowed to talk or ask questions. I have not made ... decisions.”

  “Well, you just made your first one. Today you are going to make more,” Kate said gently.

  “What if I make the wrong one?” Patrick asked. “What will happen?”

  “Not a goddamn thing.” The scorching anger ripped through her again at the nameless, faceless people who had done this to her husband. She tried to force a smile in her voice. “Sometimes it’s fun to screw up because you get a second chance to make it right.”

  “I’ll get two chances, then.”

  “You bet. More if you need them," Kate said, her voice breaking. Where did the anger, the rage and hostility, go? she wondered. Was he being submissive for a reason? Fear did strange things to people. She fought with her scorching anger. Your day is coming, Patrick.

  “Who’s going to make breakfast?” she asked cheerfully.

  “I will,” Betsy said.

  “I’m going to shower. Patrick, did you shower?”

  “I ... it was too cold.”

  “You have to take a shower every day. And you have to shave and brush your teeth. I understand what you’re saying about it being chilly. I’ll show you how to work the fan in the bathroom. There’s a blower. It will take five minutes for the room to warm up.”

  Patrick moved alongside Kate down the hall and into the bathroom. He watched her carefully and nodded to show he understood how to turn the blower and the fan on and off. “Don’t close the door, Kate.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Are we going to get the dog today?”

&nb
sp; Good Lord, she’d forgotten. Well, the girls would have to help with that, too. “Yes, Patrick. Do you have a particular one in mind?”

  “A man’s dog,” he said sprightly.

  “A man’s dog it is. You’ll have to train it, you know. Do you promise to take responsibility for it?”

  “Yes, I promise. They treated me like a dog. I would never treat a dog the way they treated me. I want to prove that. I have to prove that. No, let’s not get it yet.”

  Kate’s throat closed. Somehow she managed to say, “We’re going to get you the best dog in the state of California. Not yet, though. You’re going to be real buddies.” Patrick smiled at her. You son of a bitching bastards. I’m going to get you for this. She rushed from the room to her own bathroom, where she showered and washed her hair, all in under five minutes. She was out, dressed, and in the kitchen in twelve minutes total.

  “You look nice, Mom. I bet Dad approves of those slacks and sweater. Peridot is your color.”

  “Thanks. What’s for breakfast?”

  “Pancakes. They’re soft. I melted the butter and warmed the syrup. Betsy squeezed the orange juice. The coffee’s good, too.”

  “Girls, I have another job for you. If you have time, bake a chocolate cake with lots and lots of frosting. Pick up some ice cream.”

  “What kinds of clothes should we get? We need sizes,” Betsy said, reaching for the notepad. “And what should we do if Della gets here while you’re gone?”

  “Hug her. Buy large. Casual. He doesn’t need a suit yet. Loafers, maybe moccasins, size eleven. Real warm socks. Think warmth. His underwear is probably thirty-two. Flannel pajamas, a warm robe. Lots of sweaters. Warm trousers, a lined windbreaker. A wool hat and some gloves. Just go through the men’s store and use your best judgment. Later on I’ll pick up a flight jacket. I think he’d like that.”

  “If we have any time left over, do you want us to paint the house?” Ellie quipped.

  “Don’t forget to bake the cake,” Kate said, lighting a cigarette from the stub of the old one.

  “Hi, Dad. Sit down, I made pancakes,” Betsy said proudly. She layered six onto his plate.

  “They look very nice,” Patrick said.

  Betsy giggled. “They taste very nice, too.”

  Patrick ate everything on his plate, then finished his juice and coffee. “I never leave anything. If you left something, they didn’t feed you the next time,” he volunteered.

  “You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” Kate said. “If you feel warm enough, we should be on our way. I’ll call you this evening, girls. The credit card is with the money in the desk.”

  “Don’t you use the cookbook anymore?” Patrick asked.

  “Sometimes I do. But sometimes I forget and just stick it in the desk drawer. You said you wanted money, Patrick. I’ll get it for you. How much do you want?” she asked, and saw Patrick’s face fill with panic. “How does fifty dollars sound?” she added gently.

  Patrick’s face relaxed. “Fifty dollars sounds . . . okay.” There was such relief in her husband’s voice, Kate wanted to cry. To the girls she said, “Get a wallet, too.” To Patrick she said, “You can keep the money in your pants pocket for now. We’ll see you girls later on.”

  “We’ll come up to see you on the weekend, Dad,” Ellie said.

  “Okay. Do you want me to kiss you good-bye?”

  “Sure,” Betsy said, her eyes wet.

  Ellie hugged her father and said, “I wish I could remember you.”

  “I remember you. You used to pull my ears when I carried you on my shoulders. Betsy pulled my hair. I remember everything. One time they told me you all died in a car crash. I knew that wasn’t true because your mother was a good driver. I told them I believed them, but I didn’t,” Patrick said proudly. “I don’t have much hair left,” he said suddenly.

  “You have enough,” Kate said. He was so docile, so mellow. When would he erupt again, she wondered, or was yesterday’s anger a one-shot deal?

  “You never lied to me, Kate, so I believe you.”

  “No, Patrick, I never lied to you. I won’t lie to you now, either.”

  They were on the highway, the heater blasting in the Mercedes, when Kate said, “Did you ever love me, Patrick?”

  “I’m not sure. You were a good mother and you kept house good. We were happy, weren’t we?”

  “I thought I was. I loved you with all my heart and soul,” she said quietly.

  “That’s a lot,” Patrick said in amazement.

  “Yes, it was. I’m not sure you even liked me. Why did you volunteer for that mission?”

  “I wanted to get my ticket punched. It was the only way to make rank. It was a mistake. I didn’t use to make mistakes, did I?”

  “Not too many.”

  “I wanted everything to be like it was. I’m sorry about yesterday.”

  “I’m sorry, too. Did you really think I was dumb, that I needed you to think, that I never had a thought in my head?”

  “Yes, but only because it was true.”

  Kate cringed. “You don’t hear well, do you?”

  “No, I don’t. I guess I had too many blows to my head. One ear is good.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?” Kate asked sadly.

  “Because there were so many other things wrong with me. You couldn’t see inside my ears.”

  Please God, help me get through this. Help me to be kind, to understand. “We’ll get that taken care of today, too.”

  “When do you think I’ll be normal, Kate?” Patrick asked.

  “I don’t know. We’re all going to do our best for you, but you’re going to have to work hard. I’ll do whatever I can.”

  Kate almost laughed when Patrick said, “Because you love me heart and soul?” Almost. “You don’t love me anymore, do you?” he asked, his tone conversational.

  Kate thought about the question before she answered. “Part of me will always love you, Patrick. But I’m not in love with you.” Please, she prayed, don’t let him ask me if I love someone else. Don’t let him ask me that. “Do you love me?” she asked, hoping to forestall the question she felt was coming.

  “I think I was in love with the idea of marriage. I needed a wife. You need a wife in the military or you don’t get ahead. I liked you. Most of the time.” It was said so matter-of-factly, Kate found herself half smiling. Maybe, she thought, it doesn’t sound so bad because of the Russian accent; when things were quiet, when her head was together, she would think about what her husband had just said. That and the fact that suddenly, with Patrick’s words, she could feel her guilt start to wash away.

  “Today is going to be difficult, Patrick. Tell me something. I don’t understand why you weren’t given medical treatment. I don’t understand how they could just . . . send you off in your condition. They’re treating you like an animal,” she blustered.

  “It was my choice. They took me to someone, and I had a going-over, a quick one. My eyes and ears were scheduled for later. I also had to go through extensive debriefing. Once I told them how I spilled my guts, they more or less lost interest in me. I’ve had nineteen and a half years to think about all of this, and I know in my heart no human could have held out against the torture and the drugs. I wanted to come home. They said they would reimburse us for all the medical bills. They lie, Kate.”

  “I know that.”

  “If I get better and start to look normal, do you think we could go out to dinner? In a public place.”

  “Would you like that?”

  “The thought is a goal. Right now. I’ll pretty much have to learn to walk like everyone else. I shuffle, and sometimes, most of the time, I move in jerks. That’s because I was scrunched up a lot.”

  “We’ll work on that. We’ll take walks, ride bicycles. Remember how you used to ride past my house on your bike? You always pretended you had a flat tire when you got to our driveway.”

  “You saw through that, huh?”

  “Pretty m
uch so.”

  “Are you really rich, Kate?”

  “I’m comfortable. I don’t think we’ll have to worry about starving. I have an investment planner. Ellie oversees it all. You should be very proud of the girls. Betsy . . . Betsy understands all this business with the government. I don’t pretend to understand how she . . . She takes after you, Patrick. When you’re feeling up to it, you should talk to her. Ellie says she’s an expert in international government affairs. I guess that means she knows how the system works or doesn’t work.”

  “They’re fucking me over, Kate, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

  “We aren’t going to worry about that now, Patrick. For now we’re going to defy them and get you on your feet. We’re going to make you robust and . . . and we’re going to work on your anger so we can all deal with this reasonably and logically. I don’t believe that nothing can be done. I refuse to believe that.”

  “We’re caught up in the system now.” Kate heard the fear in his voice and reacted angrily.

  “I don’t want you quitting on me before we even get started. If we believe we can take on the system, we’re halfway home. It’s not always the winning that counts. What counts is calling them to accountability. When the time is right, Patrick. It all depends on you.”

  The rest of the trip was made in silence, the radio playing softly, the heater blasting.

  At the hospital Kate was told to come back at four o’clock. Patrick would have his physical, visit the dentist and eye specialist. His hearing test was scheduled last. The doctor assured her that when she picked up her cousin Harry, he would have glasses and his hearing aid. If possible, dental work would be started.

  With time on her hands, Kate treated herself to lunch and a long walk. She stopped for coffee in the middle of the afternoon so she could use the bathroom. The phone on the wall made her light-headed. If she was lucky, Gus would still be in the office. Generally he ate lunch in the office, unless he was out in the field working on a story. She counted her change. She had enough to make the call, but if Gus wanted to talk, he’d have to call her back.