Carly

by Lyn Cote

  Gallagher stared at him. “I’m sorry about your losing a son.” Nate’s genuine sympathy showed in his dour expression. “But no one gets through this life free and easy—whether they’ve been good or not. You say you’ve paid for your sins. Not really. You’ve suffered the consequences. I think you need to talk to God about your sins. He paid for them. You don’t have to.” He took a deep breath.

  “Now let’s go meet Carly. She needs you. And that’s what’s important now. She needs all the love she can get. And she deserves it, too. She’s a great kid, and I love her with all my heart.”

  Nate’s sincerity came through to Trent like pure, chilled mountain air. Mute before it, Trent couldn’t reply so he nodded. What if I can’t speak—can’t say a word to my daughter? But he put one foot in front of the other, and then he and Gallagher were side by side next to Carly’s bed.

  She opened her eyes and looked up.

  Gallagher took her good hand. “Carly, someone else has come to visit you. This is your father, Trent Kinnard.”

  Carly gazed up into Trent’s face. He saw his own gray eyes looking back at him, and he felt as if he could stand there, gazing at her for centuries. He tried to read her expression but was unable to. Tears welled up in his eyes; he couldn’t stop them. He attempted to put together some words of greeting, but he failed.

  “Father?” she said.

  He nodded. And at her innocent greeting, he felt his tears release. He sucked them in, down into his throat.

  Gallagher took their daughter’s uninjured hand and gave it to Trent. And then Trent’s daughter, his Carly, his living child, squeezed his hand—and began to cry, too.

  Nate leaned down and kissed Carly’s cheek, then left them.

  “Father?” Carly said again to Trent. “You came?”

  “I was here last night.” Shaking, Trent wiped the moisture from his eyes with his free hand. He felt compelled to let her know how much he owed her stepfather. “We didn’t know it but Gallagher and I flew over on the same flight. Your stepfather told them to let me through the gate to get to you. Your mother’s friend, Frank Dawson, had set it up for Gallagher to visit you. But of course I wasn’t listed as family. If your stepdad hadn’t vouched for me, I wouldn’t have been let in. I can’t thank him enough.”

  “Nate’s great. He loves me and I love him. Oh, Father, I can’t believe I’m finally seeing you.” Free, unabashed tears flowed down the sides of her face onto her pillow. “I’ve missed you . . . so.”

  Weak in the knees, Trent dropped into the chair beside her bed and clung to her hand. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” But his silent tears continued pouring down. Finally, he took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry I missed your childhood.”

  “Why didn’t my mom ever let you visit me?”

  “Carly, don’t blame your mother.” With his palm, he rubbed his taut forehead. “I put her in a terrible position. I was a selfish man who wanted her, used her, when I didn’t have any right to her.”

  “You were married,” Carly said in a soft, hurt voice.

  “Leigh told you?” The truth, a sharp razor, sliced Trent’s heart.

  Carly nodded solemnly. “When I told her you’d started writing to me while I was in boot camp, it made her so angry.”

  “I didn’t mean to cause trouble between you and Leigh. Never.” His guilt stung him. “But I knowingly took advantage of your mother. She didn’t know I was married until after . . . until after we’d spent the night together. I acted like I didn’t know she might be unaware that I was married, but I never gave her the slightest hint that I wasn’t free.”

  “Did you . . . did you ever try to see me before?” His daughter looked fearful.

  “Yes, twice. Right after you were born and right after you were kidnapped. Indirectly, you suffered that awful experience because of me, too.”

  “How?”

  “A man wanted to hurt me. He found out and used you to get at me.” Trent swallowed a sob. “I’ve hurt you in so many ways.”

  “It’s all right.” Her voice caught, and then she went on, “You’re here now.”

  Her easy, innocent forgiveness and acceptance stunned him. Trent bent and kissed her good hand.

  She reached up and stroked his wet cheek. “It will be okay, Father. We’ll work it all out.”

  “I don’t deserve you.” He wasn’t able to say more. He wept silently, sobs shaking his shoulders.

  Carly stroked his cheek and softly murmured comforting words.

  This is Leigh’s child, my daughter, my beautiful child. I don’t deserve her. Nate’s words about God had touched him. But God was only for good men, not foolish men like him who made messes of their lives and scarred those that warranted their love.

  Nate walked back into Carly’s room. He watched the tableau of the weeping prodigal father and Carly’s gentle loving ways. He didn’t want to tell her the news he’d just gotten. But it was no good waiting. Carly would keep asking till she got an answer. Trent’s presence might soften the blow. But most important of all, Carly hated it when secrets were kept from her. He wouldn’t treat her like a child. She was a woman, a soldier.

  “Carly, I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Joe and Sam survived the attack, but Bowie Jenkin was killed instantly.”

  Much later, Carly lay in her hospital bed in the dim light and hush of evening. Most guests had left, and she’d insisted that both her fathers go back to the hotel for a late supper. They’d insisted that she needed them, but she’d overruled. She needed time alone to mourn for her . . . for Bowie, her best friend, her first love.

  Nate and Trent had wanted so much to comfort her. But just having her two fathers with her had been a blessing she could only have guessed at before today. Her two fathers. . . .

  God, I’m so happy that I finally met my real . . . my biological father. I was so happy and now . . . I can’t bear it. Bowie . . . I can’t believe he’s gone.

  She pictured herself on that fatal final day, across the table from Bowie in the mess tent. Would the image of Bowie mouthing the words “I love you” stay with her, torture her forever? She heard again the whistling and screaming of the attack, but that was all. She remembered nothing afterward except Lorelle’s face above hers and then being wheeled into the hospital.

  Tears streamed from her eyes in a steady but unhurried flow. Would she run out of them eventually—but continue to weep without tears?

  I don’t know what to pray, God. You felt so near to me in Saudi when I stood beside Bowie in church each Sunday. The hymn she’d sung with Bowie in Saudi replayed in her memory, “Child of weakness, watch and pray, / Find in Me thine all in all.” I know you haven’t left me, but I must have moved away from you. Is that how it is when a person loses someone—as though in some way, I’ve died, too? I almost feel like I don’t care if I get well or not. And I know that’s not right. I know my family . . .

  The phone beside her bed rang. She jerked in surprise. Nate had positioned it so she could get it with her good hand. He was probably calling to see if she wanted them to come back. Carly tried to stop crying and picked up the receiver. She felt as if she hadn’t held a phone for a long time. With a rush of poignant memory, she realized that the last time had been at Christmas with Bowie beside her. “Hello,” she murmured.

  “Carly, it’s your great-grandmother.”

  Fresh tears flooded Carly’s face and throat. “Grandma Chloe.”

  “Oh, my darling child, how I wish I could be there with you. Nate called us about your friend Bowie.”

  Carly couldn’t speak. She tried and the only word that came out was, “Loved.” I loved him, Grandma.

  “I know, dear. It’s so hard. It’s been around sixty years, but I still remember how lost I felt when your great-grandfather Theran died in World War I. It’s so horrible, and yet it doesn’t feel real, feel possible at first.”

  “I know,” Carly managed to respond.

  “I’m so glad that Nate is there with you.”


  Carly took a deep breath. “I made him go back to the hotel. He’s so tired.”

  “He’s a good man. Here, I’m going to hand the phone to your Grandma Bette.”

  “Sweetheart,” Bette said, coming on the line, “we miss you so, love you so.”

  Her grandmother’s fight with cancer roared in Carly’s head. I don’t want to lose her too, God. Please. “Grandma, how are you?”

  “Well, pretty miserable, just like you, I suspect. But I think I’m going to win, and you will, too, darling. You are so precious to us.”

  “Daddy says you have a boyfriend.” Carly couldn’t quite believe it, but her mouth lifted in a smile as she said this even though tears still wet her face.

  “I don’t know if I’d call Dan my boyfriend”—Grandma Bette’s usual good humor came through—“but yes, I have Dan in my life now. I think you’ll like him. He’s very dashing.”

  Carly giggled in the midst of tears. “It’s so good to hear your voice. Is Mom there?”

  “Yes, sweetheart, here she is.”

  “Honey,” Leigh said, sounding as if she’d been crying, too, “I wish I could be with you. I’m so sad for you, but so glad you’re alive.”

  Then Carly recalled wishing for her mother as she lay wounded. “Mom, I loved him.”

  “I know.” Her mother tried to muffle her sympathetic weeping. “It’s all so hard. If I could have spared you this, I would. But mothers can’t do that. Life happens to our children, and we can’t stop it.”

  “Mom, I’ve been praying.” Carly’s heart sped up. She’d never talked to her mother about God. It was one of those topics her mother wouldn’t respond to. Nate had always been the one to take Carly to church and Sunday school. “I feel like I have to cling to God as if my life is melting away beneath me.”

  “I’ve experienced that feeling, too. It’s awful. I won’t insult you with any platitudes. But I’m glad you’re clinging to God.” Leigh lowered her voice. “I’ve been doing that lately myself.”

  Her mother’s admission took Carly by surprise, but then she thought, Maybe that’s what it means: “Find in Me thine all in all.” Is it just clinging to you, Lord, through every loss, every sorrow, everything?

  Ivy Manor, March 1991

  Nate waved good-bye to Rose’s grandson, who’d collected him at the airport. In the chill gray afternoon light, Nate looked at the venerable home and wondered when he’d go back to his and Leigh’s flat in New York City. He’d spent two weeks in Germany with his daughter and her birth father. And finally, Carly had told both of them to go home. She would be flown Stateside sometime in the next two weeks, and she’d be given leave soon after to come home to convalesce.

  In all that time, no one had ever revealed to Leigh that Trent had also spent the two weeks with Carly. Nate had appreciated having someone to share the visitation with. It was hard seeing his little girl suffer. And Carly had been so happy to be with Trent—Nate hadn’t been able to drum up much jealousy. More and more, he valued seeing Carly holding Kinnard’s hand and listening to her tell him about her childhood. To Nate, it had been like reliving those fun hours and days. But now I have to tell Leigh. He knew she would be angry, but how angry? What effect would it have on their already rocky marriage?

  And he hated hitting her with this now. Chloe had evidently come through all right and was doing well on heart medication. But Bette was still waiting for further testing to see if her cancer had gone into remission. Why did life only get harder as one aged? Shouldn’t life experience and the ease of more material wealth after years of hard work make it easier? In a word or two, evidently not.

  The back door swung open and Leigh, looking fabulous in a soft blue sweater and slacks, threw herself into his arms. “Oh, I’ve missed you so!” She clung to him as he held her close and kissed her. It was as if he hadn’t seen her for years. Passion for her burst over him afresh, and he breathed in her unique scent. She pulled away to look at him. “You don’t know how glad I am to see you.”

  “I have a feeling I do. I’ve missed you.” He held the back of her silken head in one hand and began another long kiss of reunion.

  With a quick hug, she pulled from him and drew him inside. “Michael’s at school. Grandma Chloe’s napping and Mother’s out with Dan. He drove her to Arlington—something came up at the CIA, and they wanted her to drop by.”

  In the warm kitchen, fragrant with roasting beef, Rose greeted Nate with a hug. She insisted on making him a snack right away, and then Leigh drew him to the den at the back of the first floor as if eager to have him alone. For a long moment, they just stood holding one another. She was softer than he’d remembered and much, much thinner.

  Then Leigh drew Nate down to sit beside her on the sofa, clutching his rough hand in hers. He looked so handsome, so good to her. It was like seeing him again for the first time, his rich auburn waves and clear blue eyes. “I love you, Nate,” she whispered and bent to kiss the back of his hand. “With everything happening here and worrying about Carly over there, I feel like I’ve been forced through a long, narrow tube. But now you’re here and Carly will be coming home soon. I can relax for a bit.”

  Nate looked funny, frozen.

  “What’s wrong? Is there something I don’t know about Carly?” She moved toward him, her heart speeding up.

  “No, I’ve told you everything about Carly’s health. She’ll be home just like we told you. It’s about her father, about Kinnard.”

  Leigh could only stare at him.

  “Kinnard flew to Germany on the same flight I did.”

  “So. . . .” Bewildered, she couldn’t think what to say, to ask.

  “I vouched for him, and he met Carly.”

  Leigh’s mouth dropped open. Waves of shock vibrated through her flesh. Her head drooped, becoming heavier and heavier until she had to hold it up with both hands.

  “Are you all right?” Nate gripped her shoulder. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you had enough on your plate here. Are you very angry with me? I didn’t do it to hurt you. I did it because Carly needed him.”

  Leigh struggled with an amazing free fall of emotions—each one ramming her with astounding force. Anger. Shock. Hurt. Guilt. Jealousy. Horror.

  “Leigh, speak to me.” Nate shook her slightly.

  “I don’t know what to say.” She stared downward. “It’s all too much—”

  Rose entered with a tray of sandwiches and a pot of coffee. “Here you go.” She looked at Nate and said, “Your wife’s been eating like a fly. Make her snack along with you. She’ll be a size zero if this keeps up. And after that, I don’t know what she’ll wear. Minus-zero?”

  “I’ll take care of it, Rose,” Nate said. After the housekeeper had left, closing the door behind her, Nate lifted Leigh’s chin. He handed her a sandwich, forced her to take it in hand, and then he took a bite of his.

  Leigh stared at the ham and cheese on rye. “I can’t eat.”

  “Rose is right. You look as if you could blow away on the wind. Just take a bite and start chewing.”

  The idea of eating felt repugnant, but she had to do something to make the unreality go away. “What did . . . what did Carly say when she met her father?” Leigh forced herself to bite into the soft bread.

  “I didn’t know what to say when the nurse told me, the night I arrived at the hospital, that there was another father wanting to see Carly.” He paused to chew. “But I decided if he’d flown all the way to Germany, he must want to see her very badly. Don’t you think?”

  She nodded, her mind still numb at the mention of Trent. She chewed, and the tang of the sharp cheddar burst in her mouth.

  “I left them alone after I introduced Kinnard to her. Anyway,” Nate continued, “it did Carly good, I think. Especially when I had to tell her about Bowie—”

  She understood what he was saying, but had it been necessary? “Couldn’t that have waited?” she implored him.

  “No. Carly doesn’t like secrets. She wants
to know and face stuff in her way. You know that.”

  “I know.” Defying her trembling hand, she picked up the mug of black coffee Nate had poured her and sipped the hot brew. “I wish I’d been more open with her. You were right, and I was wrong.”

  Her mind took her back to the day she’d first told Nate she loved him. She’d been listening to “Amazing Grace” at the NYPD funeral for Nate’s grandfather. If only I’d carried out all that I’d promised God that day, Carly and I wouldn’t have been at odds. Maybe she wouldn’t have enlisted, wouldn’t have been wounded.

  “Hey, I can tell from your expression that you’re busy blaming yourself for everything.” Nate nudged her shoulder. “Just remember that you’re human. You make mistakes. You can’t control what happens to anyone or how anyone is going to react to what happens to them. Carly was wounded because Saddam Hussein is a nutcase, a murderous one. You didn’t do it. Carly will be home soon—what you must decide is how you are going to react to the fact that she’s let her father into her life.”

  “I know I should have let her meet him.” The words were shards of glass in her throat. “I should have years ago.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. We can’t know how meeting Kinnard earlier would have affected her. From what he told me, he has changed a lot over the past few years. His wife divorced him, and two years ago, he lost his son in an auto accident.”

  “Oh, no.” Leigh hadn’t realized that she could feel sympathy for Trent. But she’d nearly lost her daughter. “That’s dreadful.”

  “He’s not the man who seduced you in 1972. I’d say he’s learned that life isn’t his to manipulate for his own purposes.” Nate massaged her shoulder, releasing warmth through her flesh. “Just let it be.”

  “I know I must.” She steadied her nerves. “I don’t want to do more damage to my relationship with Carly and you. But I can’t see him. It hurts too much.”

  “I don’t think he’s going to force his way into our family. I think he will be content merely to be in touch with Carly. And she’s not about to wave him in your face.”

  Leigh took a deep breath and then took another bite as if it were her duty to eat, to go on living. “Nate, I still want us to go to counseling. I feel the need to talk all of this over with someone, and I want us to be the way we were when we were first married.”