by R. D. Power
“Lucky me. Truth be told, Taylor, I came back to London for you.” She opened her eyes wide, but before she could say anything, he continued. “That was obviously a mistake. I would’ve thought that the one person in the world who would trust me, who would know I would never harm a child, who would know I would never lie about Iraq, would be you. But you aren’t you anymore.”
“I know you would never hurt a child, and I know you are a hero. I only questioned whether you were the one who was with Hendrix when he made the call.”
“I don’t care whether you consider me a hero; that’s your hang-up, not mine. I do care that you think I’m a liar, not to mention a pervert, and I care that you sided with that charlatan and with your asshole fiancé against me!”
“I’m sorry, but even if I believed you, I would never have condoned the way you went about trying to unmask him. You not only ruined the evening, something that Mark and I worked really hard to pull off, you compromised his election chances—”
“He did that all by himself by aligning himself with Rocha—”
“Let me finish. Worst of all, you embarrassed yourself.”
“As if you care about that. You love him.”
“You still have no idea what you mean to me. Part of me does love Mark, but—”
“The part I don’t know, the part I don’t want to know, the only part I ever get to see; the part that said yes to his proposal!”
She sat there silent for a time, not knowing what to think or say. Before he interrupted her, she was on the brink of admitting how much she still loved him, but with Robert so inimical and with Mark looking on from the next room, she thought the better of it. Finally, she said, “I don’t want to leave it like this between us. It was uncomfortable enough before.”
“Then let’s just stay apart.”
“If that’s the way you want it,” she said, as she stood to leave. “I hope you and Kara will be very happy.” He glared at her. “What did I say wrong now?”
“Have you seen her around lately?” he said. “Jenny took Kara away from me.” His eyes watered once more. “Like her cousin, she’s lost faith in me because of Rocha. Then you have the gall to tell me how I should handle the fraud who’s ruining my life? And for the icing on the cake, you land me back in jail. Go to back to your fiancé, Taylor. He’s welcome to you. I can’t stand the woman I see before me; she killed the woman I love!”
That started her tears flowing. She looked at him desolately, and said, “Don’t say that, Bobby.”
In her beseeching look, he thought he recognized something of his Krissy of old—her gaze of love. It vanquished his anger at once. He softened his tone and said, “Krissy, you’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever met, but you seem to be hiding your true self from me. Please let her come back to me.”
At that juncture, Mark entered the room and asked what Robert had done to upset her. She composed herself and assured him that Robert had merely set her straight, and proceeded to tell Mark what the confusion was over the young girl.
Mark expressed his regret for the misunderstanding and extended his hand to Robert as Kristen looked on with concern. Her expression was begging him to accept the apology. Out of respect for her, he shook Mark’s hand. She smiled her gratitude.
That evening, Kristen had an epiphany. Protecting her ego had cost her his love. She had buried her profound love for him so effectually, he could no longer sense it. I killed the woman he loved. That said it all, and it shook her to the core. He said he came back for me. If I don’t take the chance of telling him how I really feel, I will lose him forever. I’m so afraid, but what’s the point of protecting myself from getting hurt by him? So I can get along without him? That makes no sense!
Chapter Thirteen
Reckoning
Trumpeting “I told you so” is one of the great satisfactions in life, but the wait for it to play out can be frustrating.
Jennifer, having an awful time with a daughter who would not stop crying and who screamed every time she came near, and still nervous over what a livid ex-husband might do to get her back, decided to call Robert to talk peace terms.
“I know you hate me more than ever,” she opened after his “Hello.” She interpreted his silence as confirmation, but continued, “I don’t want you as an enemy. God, Bobby, I still love you.” He said nothing, so she went on: “I want you to know you can come here to see her whenever you want for as long as you want. I never had any intention of cutting you off from her. You must know I’ve always wanted you in her life. She needs her father. Will you come to see her?”
“I want her back, then I want nothing to do with you for the rest of time.”
“Dammit, this is why I had to do what I did. You gave me no choice with your stubborn insistence that she was yours alone. I’m her mother, and I love her. I want her in my life, too, but I want to share her with you. Will you please come—”
He hung up. She threw the phone at the wall.
•
Word got around campus quickly that Robert Owens had caused the city and the university humiliation with his appalling treatment of a national idol. Newspapers across Canada reported the incident. He was told to attend a disciplinary meeting the next Monday.
Professor Taylor was asked to recount the events of that night. Not wanting to be in the position of testifying against him ever again, she declined. She did attend the meeting, though, to see if she could help him.
“What are you doing here, Taylor?” he asked her.
“I came here to help you if I can.”
“I don’t need—”
“Listen to me. I can help you. Just trust me.”
He remained undecided.
She said, “If you want me to trust you, you have to be able to trust me.”
He acquiesced.
Another professor narrated his version of the events, with appropriate indignation and mortification over the fallout for the university. Robert was invited to rebut.
“All I have to say is Rocha is a phony,” he said.
“Do you have any proof?” said the chairwoman.
“Every bit as much as Rocha does that he’s the hero.”
“Dr. Owens,” said the chairwoman, “I hardly think that is an acceptable defense. If that’s all you have to say, I’m afraid we have no choice but to dismiss you—”
“Please, madam chair,” interrupted Kristen. “He’s an incredible asset to this university. He’s probably the finest computer scientist here or anywhere.”
The chairwoman responded, “That isn’t the issue here.”
“If it isn’t, it should be,” said Kristen. “This Rocha business will blow over within days; Dr. Owens will be one of this institution’s brightest lights for years—unless you make a big mistake today.”
The committee whispered among themselves. After a few minutes, the chairwoman said, “Dr. Owens, we’ve decided to suspend you until the end of the term, without pay. After that, assuming this has blown over, you may return to your post.”
He bristled at the sentence and opened his mouth to remonstrate, but Kristen said, “Don’t! Just accept it and leave … Trust me.” He sighed and walked outside. It was a cloudy, dreary morning. He zipped up his jacket.
Kristen followed and, while doing up her coat, said, “They needed to slap you on the wrist to satisfy the hierarchy. You’ll be back next term.”
“I’m not coming back. I’m leaving London, and you’ll never see me again.” He turned and walked briskly away.
With a real sense of panic that he was about to depart forever, her soul finally pushed aside the sorrow, disappointment, regret, anger, and fear her conscious self had interred it in just after he left her over four years earlier, reunited with her cognitive mind and commanded, “Robert Owens: stop!”
He obeyed and turned to face her.
Closing the distance between them, she said, “If you storm away from me one more time, you’ll convince me that I made the right decisio
n with Mark. You’ll convince me that you haven’t changed, that you’ll never change. You’ll convince me that you don’t respect me, that you don’t love me. So if that’s what you want, then turn around and go.”
He stayed put.
She stepped still closer to him, looked in his eyes, and said, “I still love you; I will always love you.”
“You’ve varied between distant and hostile with me since I arrived. There’s been no sign of any love.”
“Nor any from you. I had a good thing going with Mark—he really is a great guy—and then you show up out of the blue. I didn’t know how to react. I still don’t. I just know I love you.”
“Yet you’re marrying Mark, so I guess you love him more.”
“You’ve never understood the depth of my love for you. We’re supposed to be together!” She took his hands in hers. “Our problem is you don’t know that. You love me so much less than I love you.”
“How can you say that? I asked you to marry me twice. It was you who rejected me twice.”
“Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you know how I forever grieve that something major intervened both times? The best part my life was the twenty hours when we were engaged. The bliss I experienced then is greater than all my happiness combined since then. Both situations were incredibly complicated, and both times you were the cause; yet you continue to blame me.”
She let go of his hands and resumed, “You and I have a lot of strengths in common, but we also share a critical weakness. When we get angry over something the other one did, we strike out impetuously. We magnify the original problem a hundredfold with reckless and foolish responses.”
She stopped to gauge his reaction. He nodded in agreement.
She proceeded, “There’s also an important difference between us: when I realize what I’ve done, I do my best to undo it, and I forgive you for what you did. But you … don’t. I was ready to marry you the next day, the next day! But you never came back.” She stepped back, looked down, and repeated mournfully, “You never came back.”
“I did, but too late, I guess.”
“If you think it is, then it is.”
“You’re engaged to him, aren’t you?”
He hung his head and turned to leave, but she grabbed his arm and said, “Robert! Did you hear anything I just said? You keep giving up on us. Here you are ready to do it again. Why do you think I don’t trust you? How am I to believe that if we did get back together, you would stay with me the next time the going got tough?”
“I will.”
“No, Bobby; that’s not good enough for me. You need to show me you’ve grown. You need to prove to me you can rise above the weaknesses that have doomed our relationship time and time again.”
“How?”
She took his hands once more. “First and most obvious, don’t leave London; don’t leave me.” He nodded. “Second, show me you truly do love me.”
“Why do you think I keep coming back to you? I can’t live without you.”
She released his hands again and said in a decidedly colder tone, “If that were true, we wouldn’t have spent the last twelve years apart. If you didn’t keep leaving, you wouldn’t have to keep coming back.”
He cast about for the magic words that would convince her his love was genuine. In his mind, the stakes were now at their highest. If I can convince her I’ll never leave her again, she might take me back! Don’t blow this!
His ponderings were taking too long. She said, “Robert?”
“Uh, I really do love you, Krissy … so much it scares the hell out of me.”
Her face fell; his followed suit. Shit!, he exclaimed to himself.
She said, “There’s the heart of the matter: your insecurity. It’s what worries me most. It leads you to doubt my love, which leads you to abandon me.”
“Of course I doubt your love. You’re engaged to another man.”
“Convince me you will never again break my heart, that you’ll stand by me no matter what happens, and that will change.”
The sun found its way between the clouds.
“Krissy … I’m dying to convince you. Here you are offering me another chance, and I’m flubbing it. I’m so afraid of saying the wrong thing again, I’m shaking. Please tell me how I can convince you.”
“Showing faith in me today was a good start. Your shaking is sweet, too,” she said with a smile. “It tells me you’re sincere. Other than that … time.” She looked at her watch. “I’m late; I have to go.” She kissed his cheek and walked away.
He called to her, “Please don’t marry him!”
Turning to face him and walking backwards, she said, “Convince me.” She turned and hurried to her waiting students.
•
The next day, Robert received the copy of the recording of the Hendrix phone call. He immediately called Kristen, but learned she was in Toronto for a conference for the next three days.
So, he went to Kim’s to play the recording for his son and Kim. Though Brian believed him anyway, it was important for Robert to erase any doubts his son might have entertained. Kim, who cringed in listening to the recording, sincerely apologized for doubting him and added, “Bob, I’d hate to think our friendship will suffer because of—”
“Kim, through it all you’ve been my one and only constant friend. Without the friendship you showed me, I don’t know if I would’ve survived the bad times, especially after Iraq. You’re so kind and so good that I can’t imagine my world without you in it. And you brought Brian into my life. I can never thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. You mean the world to me.”
With tears in her eyes, she hugged him.
Next, he packed and flew to California with the aim of getting Kara back. Jennifer had been regretting her decision to take her daughter back. Kara had spent much of her time crying during the twenty-nine days she was with her mother. Jennifer had stopped trying to pick her daughter up, because she couldn’t bear the heart-wrenching screams of hatred. She was to resume touring in a little over a month and was wondering how she would manage the wretched child, even with the caregiver she hired, so when Robert called demanding a meeting, she responded with a wholehearted yes. When he got there, the reuniting of father and daughter left nary a dry eye in the house.
“Daddy!” said the little girl as she ran to his open arms.
He embraced her tenderly and smothered her with kisses. “I love you so much,” he said. A beaming smile evaporated her tears. He sat and put Kara on his lap; she snuggled in. He took out his laptop and ordered Jennifer to listen to the recording.
Before he started it, he said, “This is what actually happened on that awful night in Baghdad. It’s scary, so I’m covering Kara’s ears.”
Jennifer nodded nervously and listened. She sat there astonished as she heard Hendrix converse with the contact, referring to Owens three times. Crying by the end of it, she hugged her hero, her love, trust, and admiration for him restored.
“You’ve wondered why I never want to think, let alone boast about this? Here you are crying just listening to it. Imagine being there. You can’t come close to comprehending the overwhelming feeling of pure horror, but try to put yourself there just for that minute. First, there’s the gut wrenching fear. You’re sweating, you’re shivering, you’re breathing so fast you’re getting light-headed, your heart is pounding, your stomach is one big knot, your mouth is so dry you can’t swallow. Every fiber of your being is screaming ‘Run!’—but you can’t, because you couldn’t live with yourself anyway if you left your friend alone to die, if you let your country down, and if you didn’t do everything possible to stop that virus from getting out, so you stay, expecting every second to be your last. Tick, tick, tick.” He opened his eyes wide to show dread and turned his head back and forth. “Where’s the fatal shot going to come from? Tick, tick … Is the tank going to fire? Tick, tick … Where the fuck are those guys to the west! Will they get me or Hendrix before I can get them? Tic
k, tick … Will I feel a lot of pain? Tick, tick … Or will I just go out like a light bulb? Tick, tick … There they are! Bang, bang, bang, bang!”
Jennifer jumped and latched onto his arm.
“Now the rest of them know we’re the enemy. Oh, Christ, I’m really going to die! ‘Fire!’ shouts their commander. They begin shooting. I yell to Hendrix, ‘Run!’ and I start running. I’m so scared, I can’t remember getting to the corner behind the building. I turn to see Hendrix still on the phone. Boom! He’s gone. Just disappeared.” Robert’s eyes looked distant as he re-experienced that horrendous moment. He dropped his head down as tears filled his eyes.
Jennifer petted his hair.
“That night … in some ways, it seems like it never really happened, it was so unreal. I saw so many good men die. I saw strangers die, many by my hand. I killed a child. I was tortured mercilessly. The unbearable pain …” He looked at her at a loss for words for the moment as the tears overflowed. “Every excruciating minute in that prison cell, I prayed for death.” She leaned closer and stroked his cheek. “Do you understand now why I want to keep it buried in my past?”
“Yes,” Jennifer said while weeping. She blew her nose. “I’m so sorry for not believing you. It only goes to prove, though, that other than these last few weeks, I’ve been right about you all along, Bobby Owens.”
“Yet how easy it was to knock that impression aside, and with that gone, you immediately fell out of love. Your love for me is shallow, Jenny.”
“No, it’s not! I never fell out of love. When there seemed to be solid evidence that I was mistaken about who you really are, I had to question why I loved you. But I remembered all the other reasons I’ve loved you since I was fifteen.”
“Because I saved your life.”
“Not just that, but that is important to me, yes. How should a person feel about someone who saved her life? My point is, you always come through when it’s most important. You succeeded that night in Iraq only because of the man you are. I understand who you are, and that’s why I love you.”