The aroma from the roast continued to fill the kitchen and drifted slowly through the house, finally reaching Mice's nose, prompting her to shut off the TV which she had turned back on when she sensed the coast was clear earlier. She loved meat, too, like her father and wondered what prompted her mother to go against her practice of not serving beef.
Still thinking about her mother's curious behavior, Alice left her room and went to the kitchen. Once there, she propped herself up against the door frame while she watched as her mother lifted the roast from the fry pan and placed it in the roasting pot.
"Mom, is everything okay with you and Daddy?" she asked. She had sensed her father's uneasiness over the past couple of days, but didn't want to say anything to upset her mother. What made her speak now was the fact that one of her close friends at school had confided in her at lunch that her mother and father were getting a divorce. She was also prompted by the new hairdo and the appreciated, but unexpected, dinner. Her friend was going to have to leave Washington at the beginning of Thanksgiving vacation, and Alice was going to miss her. She didn't want the same thing to happen to her parents.
Sarah looked up from the stove and turned to her daughter. She too had felt her husband had been under alot of pressure but she knew better than to ask why. If it concerned his work, because of the sensitive nature of NSF projects, Pat wouldn't have been able to answer her anyway. Now, though, because it appeared Pat's moods were affecting Alice, Sarah felt compelled to confront him and ask him what the problem was.
Putting these thoughts aside for the moment, Sarah answered her daughter. "Alice, nothing's the matter between your father and me. He's just been a little grumpy from things at the office, that's all. He's not mad at me or you."
Alice wrinkled her brow. "Are you sure, Mom?" She then explained her concern. "Lindy, my friend at school says her mom and dad are divorcing and she's going to have to move away with her mom to Arizona."
Then she added innocently as her twelve year old mind flitted from one subject to the next, "where's Arizona, anyway?"
Sarah, relieved, looked up from the pan. Her daughter's tone of voice showed she wasn't really concerned how her father had been acting lately, it simply reflected innocent adolescent curiosity. But innocent curiosity or not, she was going to confront Pat anyway about his recent behavior. She was concerned about his moods, and their effects on Mice. It was time she got an explanation.
Putting these thoughts aside for the time being, Sarah answered her daughter's question. "Arizona is next to California in the Southwest side of the United States map."
"I know where Southwest is, Mom. You don't have to treat me like a kid," she said defensively.
"I meant to ask, how far away is it and, anyway, when Lindy moves she invited me to come see her. Can I?"
"We'll talk about it later, honey," Sarah evaded the question not wanting to give an answer without first discussing it with Pat. Maybe it would be good to send her away for a few days so the two of them could be alone.
Alice didn't pursue the subject any farther and moved toward the stove to get a better whiff of the meat which Sarah had left on the counter as she went to the refrigerator to get the vegetables to cut up and surround the roast with. Her mouth was watering.
"Alice, there aren't any onions in the refrigerator. Will you go out to the garage and get me a new bag from the bin?"
Alice put the lid back on the roast and went outside as her mother requested. Shortly she returned with the bag of fresh onions, put them down on the floor and announced, "Daddy's car is in the garage. Did you know that?"
"No. He probably came home early and you know how he likes to take his walks sometimes. Why don't you run out and see if you can find him. I've got to put this in the oven. Tell him dinner will be ready in about forty-five minutes."
Alice scooted out of the kitchen and was gone. She caught up with her father who was seated on a big flat rock overlooking the little stream.
"Daddy, there you are! Mommy thought I'd find you here," Alice said as she rushed forward to give him a big hug. "What'cha doin'?"
"Just thinkin', Punkin'. How was school?"
"Fine " she paused. "Well, not really. Lindy's mom and dad are gettin' divorced and she's gonna have to go away to Arizona. I asked Mom if I could go visit her later, but she put me off. What do you think? Think I can go?" Sarah was playing that age old trick kids play with their parents, playing one off against the other. Pat didn't bite.
"We'll have to wait and see. Talk to your mother, Punkin'."
Alice brushed the hair from her eyes and looked up at him and with a concerned look in her eyes asked, "You still love mommy, don't you?"
The question shocked Pat out of his sullen mood and he put aside thoughts of SIGMA ONE for the time being.
"Of course I love Mommy," he said at the same time thinking maybe work was getting to him and that he should be paying more attention to his family. At that moment he felt both guilt and shame but he forced an answer just the same. "And I love you very much, too!" he said and then reached out with both arms and picked her up and gave her a big hug.
He did love Sarah, but lately their sex life had left alot to be desired. He also knew that Alice could sense the tension between them. He made up his mind that no matter what happened to the project, he'd start paying more attention to the important things in life--his family.
Relieved by his answer, Alice returned the hug and spoke. "I was just wonderin'." She didn't sound convincing. "You've been pretty grumpy lately so I thought you might be mad at me or somethin'."
Now Pat really felt bad. "I'm not mad, Punkin'. Honest. I've just been too wrapped up in my work lately. I promise to be better, okay?" he asked trying to establish a truce and buy back a little of his guilt. He then crossed his heart as a show of good faith. "I promise." He hoped he could keep that promise. He really wanted to.
Alice seemed satisfied with that. "Okay!" she said and then continued "Hey, guess what Mom's cooking for dinner. You'll never guess zillion years."
"Betcha I can."
"Can not!"
"Can too!"
"Okay, go ahead and try, but you'll never guess."
"How many guesses do I get?" Pat asked, playing along.
Alice thought momentarily and then answered, "Three. But if you don't get it in three guesses, you've got to convince Mommy I can go to Arizona to visit Lindy."
Pat was trapped. His earlier guilt caused him to agree to the bargain. He wondered how women got so damn smart at such an early age.
"Let's see. My first guess is baked chicken."
"No!" Alice grinned.
"Two more to go."
Pat reached up and scratched his head, pretending to think hard.
"Macaroni and cheese?"
Alice laughed this time and shook her head from side to side.
He watched as his daughter reveled in her near victory and then blurted out, "Pot roast! I bet we're having pot roast."
Alice's face dropped. "You cheated!"
"Did not."
"Did so!" Alice said, sticking out her lower lip.
"Okay, punkin'. I didn't exactly cheat, but I saw the roast earlier in the refrigerator." He looked at his daughter's sad face and then added, “don’t worry. I'll talk with Mommy about maybe letting' you go see your friend. Okay?"
Alice beamed.
"Let's go in now, Daddy. I'm cold." She then rubbed her tummy, "and hungry, too."
The afternoon light had dimmed and a chilly North wind was blowing when they started toward the house. Pat looked up at the sky thinking it would probably snow and as he looked up thoughts of the project started to weigh heavy on his mind again like the gray clouds which laid against the hills nearby.
It was nearing 5:30 p.m. and his stomach was beginning to growl as he got up. With all the trouble he had had to face that day, he had forgotten to eat. He turned to his daughter. "Wanna piggy back ride?" he asked still feeling a twinge of guilt.
"Sure!" She responded eagerly and moved behind him.
Pat knelt down and hoisted his daughter up on his shoulders and noted how much heavier she had gotten. He couldn't remember the last time he had given her a ride. The thought of her growing up was bothersome. It seemed like her childhood had vanished in front of him without so much as a trace. As they walked back along the path, he began to re-evaluate his preoccupation with SIGMA ONE and think, instead, of home and family. SIGMA ONE was important, but in its pursuit, he was losing his daughter.
Limping forward with the added burden, his stomach began to churn again and the thought of the wonderful dinner forced thoughts of SIGMA ONE and his daughter out of his mind as pot roast took priority over projects and progeny.
Sarah served dinner exactly at 6 o'clock and the Huxley's, all seated at their big circular oak table, looked like the perfect family and they could have passed for a model for one of Norman Rockwell's wonderful sketches. Sarah was dressed in a full length, green and black plaid skirt which hit her conservatively at the knees. Her white, long-sleeved, high-necked blouse was accentuated by a single strand of pearls, Pat had given her on their tenth anniversary. Pat had built a fire in the fireplace as soon as he and Alice had come in from their walk and it cast its warm glow on the shiny wooden floors leading from the dining room into the living room. Pat had on a replica of his old blue and gold Navy letter sweater he had purchased a few years back at Annapolis when he discovered the moths had eaten the original. Alice was still dressed in her blue and green plaid parochial school skirt and had a blouse on similar to her mother's.
Pat couldn't help but to notice as his daughter got up from the table and moved into the kitchen after dinner to help with the dishes, how much Alice looked like Sarah, and how much she was filling out on top. Pat began again to think of what his daughter's life would be like when she finally grew up and moved away to go to school.
He felt a warm satisfaction as he got up from the table and entered the kitchen to help. All the negative feelings he had been harboring all day long melted away momentarily as a result of the good meal and he felt at peace for the first time in nearly two weeks.
As he neared the sink where Sarah was standing, back turned, doing dishes, he reached around and hugged her about the waist and with a devilish grin in his eyes began to tickle her ribs, knowing full well she couldn't defend herself with her hands full of dish soap.
"Good dinner, dear!" he said tickling her again.
"You stop that!" she demanded playfully squirming to make him stop and giggling at the same time.
"Alice," Sarah called to her daughter, "get your Daddy like he's getting me!"
Alice laughed and quickly went for her father's ribs, digging her fingers into his sides.
His grip relaxed for a second as he tried to fend off his daughter's attack and Sarah took advantage of it abruptly whipping around and flicking her soapy hands at him. All three ended up covered in suds and laughing, hugging one another. Pat's sense of well-being continued until after the dishes were put up and long after Alice went to her room to study and, of course, watch more rock video.
When he went to bed it was only 9 o'clock and for thirty minutes he stared at the ceiling thinking about SIGMA ONE. Although he was tired he was kept awake by visions of his poor performance in the hearings, by visions of Kamarov and the Soviet mastery of the technique he had been trying to perfect, the death of O’Shaunnesey and the deadline which was fast approaching. All these thoughts swept over him like a black suffocating veil threatening to consume him. When he finally turned over and shut off the light, he was in a very dark mood.
Sarah finally came to bed at 9:30 after finishing the chapter in the book she had started earlier by the fire. When she got into bed, she sensed his anxiety and rolled over next to him and pressed her hip up against his to get his attention. He hadn't even commented on the dinner or her new hair style, although he had been tolerable throughout the evening.
"What's wrong, Pat?" Sarah said as she snuggled closer and slipped her arm around his side giving him a tender hug.
Her advances saddened him even more than his troubles at work bothered him. He knew she was only trying to help. He also knew she wanted to talk about what was troubling him and it depressed him he couldn't.
Remaining silent, he pushed her hands aside and let out a deep moan of despair.
Sarah couldn't help but hear him. "What's wrong, Pat? She asked
again, this time less passionately, feeling slighted by his lack of response.
"Nothing's wrong!"
"I don't believe it!"
"I don't care what you believe! Nothing's wrong! Now go to sleep. I have a big day at work tomorrow!" His tone was abrupt.
Sarah pouted. "I should have never even asked. All I know is I'm not going to make your problems mine. You're impossible to talk to. Sometimes I wonder why I ever married you or why I'm staying with you now! You make me so mad I could just spit." She was bitter. She was hurt.
Pat didn't say a word and both of them rolled over to their respective sides of the bed, back to back, each trying to avoid the slightest touch from the other, each ignoring the other, each adding to their mutual pain by doing nothing to mend the situation. Neither slept well that night and the chasm between them widened when Pat got up early and left for his office without even saying good-bye: something he hadn't done in years.
CHAPTER 11
Circumstances didn't improve at home or at the office for the next two days, and Pat buried himself in his work. He was so concerned with meeting the deadline given him by the committee, he rolled in each of the SIGMA ONE task managers and gave each one a thorough ass shredding, reminding them that their jobs were on the line and that he wouldn't tolerate anything but dedication and perfection. He also told them that if they didn't meet their schedules in the labs, that none of them were irreplaceable.
Amanda Yates even caught some of his wrath when she was fifteen minutes late coming back from lunch on that Friday. She wasn't the kind of person that could take a reprimand very well and as soon as Pat was done with her, she bolted out of his office and ran to the ladies room. Cherisa Hunt was there on her break and was standing in front of the mirror primping when she burst in.
Cherisa noticed Amanda had tears in her eyes and put down her eyebrow pencil and turned to her and asked, "What's going on?" She had never seen Amanda cry since she was briefed into the SIGMA ONE project and they had gotten to know one another over the past few weeks.
Amanda, ignored the question, passed by her and went directly into a vacant stall, slamming the door behind her.
Cherisa approached and tapped lightly on the door while she waited for a reply. Behind the door she could hear Amanda sobbing quietly. Normally, Cherisa wouldn't have had the patience to wait to find out what was happening to another co-worker. She didn't have any close female friends at the NSF because other women, on hearing through the rumor mill that she was having an affair with Radcliff, shunned her. They probably wouldn't have cared who she slept with, but Cherisa made it quite- obvious to the other women that she had a different status at her job as a result of the senator, and she used this as an excuse to avoid doing any hard work at all. While other secretaries were working late on proposals, Cherisa left on time, or in some cases, early, thoroughly peeving her co-workers. The other women at the office retaliated by first giving Cherisa the nickname, Princess, and then by gossiping behind her back any time they could.
Amanda, however, was the first person who had been newly indoctrinated into the project in well over a year and hadn't heard all the gossip about Cherisa, and if Cherisa was ever going to have anyone as a friend, Amanda seemed like her last chance. Even someone as bitchy as Cherisa got lonely, so she waited letting Amanda get it out of her system instead of leaving.
After five minutes had passed, Cherisa approached the stall door and tapped lightly. "What's the problem, Amanda? You've been in there for almost fifteen minutes. Your eyes should be out
of water." Cherisa was trying her best to make Amanda forget her problems with a little joke, but she really wasn't a very good comedienne and it came out sounding stupid, which, fortunately worked anyway. Amanda laughed at the idiotic comment and came out.
"What happened?" Cherisa asked as Amanda stepped by her to go to the sink to wash her face.
Amanda sniffled one more time and then answered. "Mr.Huxley....he……he came down on me for being fifteen minutes late when I came back from lunch. It's not like I'm late all the time." She was defiant and her tears had dried.
Cherisa moved closer to her friend and spoke softly, soothingly. "Don't worry Amanda. I don't think Mr. Huxley is mad at you in particular."
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