by R. D. Power
“Yet you took my daughter from me.”
“Our daughter, Bobby. Ours. She’s mine, too, and I have the right to be with her. You hate me for taking her from you, but did you stop to think in all the time you had her that she came out of me, and that I gave my most precious possession to you? Did you ever think—cover her ears—that she wouldn’t exist if you had your way? It was me who wanted to have our child because I loved you. Do you remember how I had to force her on you to get you to even acknowledge her? You know how persistent I was in bringing you two together. I feel terrible about taking her from you, but you’re hardly on the high ground here.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I promise never to forget what you did for me and her. Now can I please have her back?”
“She hates me,” said Jennifer, as her tears fell again. “I go near her, and she screams. Can you imagine how that makes me feel? My own daughter detests me.”
“Ripping her out of her father’s arms didn’t help.”
“I know, but her father refused to share her with her mother. So, how do I overcome that awful scene? If I give her back, can you help me? Help her to love me again?”
“On the condition you don’t ever do this to us again. I want custody.”
“Joint custody, not sole custody,” Jennifer replied.
“Put that in writing. Now, can I have her back?”
“On the condition you help me into her good graces so that she comes to love me the way she loves you.” He nodded at her demand. “I mean starting right away. I want you two to stay here until my tour resumes. That’s twenty-three days. Agreed?” He nodded again. Jennifer continued, “And I want her to live with me from time to time.”
“That could be disruptive. She starts junior kindergarten this coming September. When and for how long would you want her?”
“Maybe when school’s out? Summers, Christmas, and March break. Plus I get to come to her whenever I please.”
“Okay. Entire summers might be too hard on all of us until you get to know each other better, but we can work up to that. As for Christmas, maybe we could spend the day together before you take her. Christmas without her would be meaningless to me.” Jennifer nodded. He turned to Kara. “Mommy said we can be together again, but she wants to spend more time with you, too, so we’ll stay here together for a little while, and after we go home, she’ll visit more and you can visit her, but you’ll always come home to me, okay?”
Kara smiled and curled up in his lap. He stroked her head.
“Come on, and I’ll show you to a nice room.” She turned to Kara, held out her arms and asked, “Can Mommy carry you?” Kara recoiled from her. Robert said, “You know how much Daddy loves you?” Kara nodded. “That’s how much Mommy loves you. Can you please let her hold you?” Kara shook her head. “Then can she kiss your forehead?” Kara nodded slowly. Jennifer kissed her forehead. “That’s a start. We’ll keep working on her. It’ll take time, but she’ll come around if she sees you’re serious about loving her.”
As Jennifer pointed out, he couldn’t appear cool to her if he expected Kara to warm up to her mother, so during his three weeks in California, Robert put on a show of affection for Jennifer. Jennifer took advantage of the situation by continually kissing him and hugging him. Soon, Kara became comfortable in Jennifer’s arms, but only when Daddy was around.
Just before Robert and Kara left for home, Jennifer said, “So, Bobby, what’s with you and Krissy? You’ve said nothing about her. I’ve been kind of hoping that you were over her, but I know that can’t be true. What’s going on?”
“She’s engaged to someone else.”
“Really?” she said with evident pleasure. But seeing the sorrow in his eyes, she knew he was still in love with Kristen. “Have you tried to talk her out of it?”
“Yes, but she told me I have to convince her I won’t run away from her again.”
“Can’t blame her.”
“How do I convince her?”
“Have you told her you love her?”
“Yes.”
“That’s a start. Have you begged her to marry you?”
“No.”
“You’d rather live a lonely life without her than take the chance of hurting your precious ego. Fight for her.”
“And if she says no to me?”
“You’re no further behind, are you? Isn’t she worth the risk?” He said nothing, but his look showed he was convinced by her argument. “As I said, my concerts in London are May 13th and 14th. You’re finally coming to one of my concerts. It’s about time. I’ll be at your place on the 12th and will stay until the 16th. I’ll get front row seats and a backstage pass for you and Kara.”
“And Brian?”
“Of course.” They kissed, and Robert and Kara left for home.
Chapter Fourteen
First Half of May
May. In the eventful lives of Kristen and Robert, it was to be the single most memorable month. Events in this month would include the triumphant, the horrifying, the poignant, the courageous, the fatal, and the everlasting.
Robert had called Kristen to let her know he’d be in California for three weeks with Kara, and that he’d see her when he got back. She began to consider how to break off her engagement with Mark; she couldn’t bear the thought of hurting him.
On the first of May, the day Robert and Kara returned home, the federal election was called and set for the last day of the month. Just two days later, news broke that Patrick Rocha had been unmasked as a fraud. The Pentagon issued a strong statement that he was not the soldier in question, apologizing to the public that it took so long to get to the bottom of it. Patrick repaired to Paraguay with his ill-gotten gains.
The news sent Mark into a tizzy. He’d been had by a con artist, and everyone knew it. His political fortunes were torpedoed, just as the election writ was dropped. Mark plotted strategy with his campaign director. They decided they needed a salient exploit to turn his fortunes around in time for the election. Putting the rival motorcycle gang leaders behind bars was the feat they chose.
As Mark set that process in motion, reporters were hot on the trail of the most likely candidate for the true hero of the smallpox incident: the troublemaker at the London rally, reported to be one Robert Owens. They began to accost him in early May, but he was most uncooperative.
“Was it you, Mr. Owens?” they asked.
“Piss off,” he answered.
“Was it you?” they repeated.
“Go to hell,” he said.
One of the few competent ones did some digging and went to the air on May 8th with what he termed “well-founded speculation on who the real hero is.” The nine-minute report opened with a brief review of the accomplishments that fateful night leading to the grand mystery: Who was the Canadian-American who had helped the inspectors?
He presented the circumstantial evidence that pointed to Robert Owens. He established that Robert was a dual citizen and proved he was in the U.S. Army at the time. Then, without explanation, for the shot spoke volumes, the report cut to number 13 for the Minnesota Twins easily dispatching a charging Yankee armed with a bat. A military specialist opined that he had to have learned that in Special Forces training. The reporter then pursued the baseball theme, centering on the extra inning playoff game Robert pitched, using it as evidence of the kind of prowess and tenacity one would have needed to succeed that night in Baghdad. The baseball theme ended with Jennifer Taylor hugging him at game’s end.
Footage of his stormy relationship with Jennifer followed, reminding viewers he was the one who refused to acknowledge fathering her child. “Here he is now with that little girl, his daughter, Kara,” the reporter narrated as they showed Robert pushing her on a swing and moseying around in front so she could kick him in the backside. “In the end, he did the right thing,” concluded the reporter.
He dug up old file footage of Jennifer saying, “And he did something so much more special for so many people … I can’t
tell you.” He interviewed Jennifer to pose the question, “Is he the hero? Is that what you meant when you said he’s done so much for everyone?” She wouldn’t confirm or deny it, but her proud smile said it all. Next, the reporter turned up home video from the Rocha rally that caught some of what Owens was yelling at Rocha. The reporter concluded, “It was obvious Owens was there with Hendrix in Baghdad.”
He confronted Robert three different times with questions:
“How did you alone know it wasn’t Rocha?”
“You were there, weren’t you? It was you with Hendrix, wasn’t it?”
Little of what Robert said could be played on TV, except for, “Leave me alone or I’ll shove that microphone up your” beep.
The reporter used his reticence as the final bit of evidence to conclude Robert was the reclusive hero. “After all, he’s wanted to keep it quiet all along.”
He was in the news for about a week before the media gave up. This guy just didn’t know how to bask in glory. Viewers aren’t interested in some guy cursing at them. What a lousy hero. The guy who allegedly murdered his lawyer is much more personable. Let’s bug him.
Upon returning home, Robert had gone to see Kristen. Nearing her office, he saw her with Mark. He went home dejected, and stayed away from her for the next few days, trying to determine how to convince her he had changed, and would never again leave her, no matter what.
After the report aired speculating on Robert’s involvement in the smallpox affair, Kristen realized he was home again and immediately went to his place.
He welcomed her in. She said, “Kara’s back!”
“Yup. A few weeks as mother was all Jenny could manage.”
“I’m happy for you and Kara.” Kara stood next to her father with her thumb in her mouth. “She’s so sweet,” noted Kristen.
“Yeah, she’s a real angel,” he boasted.
“And it’s obvious how happy she is. You’re a wonderful father.”
As he beamed with pride, his little angel said, “Daddy, is she a fucking reporter?”
As Robert’s smile fell through the floor, Kristen burst out laughing. “I’m sorry,” said she, “but I can well imagine what she’s overheard from her father about reporters in the past couple of days.”
He, too, laughed and said to his daughter, “You are not to say that bad word again.”
“What word?” asked Kara.
Kristen looked at Robert with an expectant smile. “Go watch Bugs Bunny,” he said. Kara skipped away. He continued, “You saw that Rocha was unmasked?”
“Of course.”
“I hope Mark is shitting himself. It should cost him the election.”
“I don’t want to talk about him. I came to apologize for not believing you. I have no excuse, other than the feeble one I already gave you; you know, how I knew you were a hero anyway.”
“How do you know? You have no real proof, do you?”
“Please don’t taunt. To lose your trust and respect is punishment enough.”
“You’ll always have my trust and respect. But to ensure I have yours, come over to the computer and sit down. I have proof.”
“I don’t need it. I’ll never doubt you again, I swear.”
“I made the mistake of presuming my word was gold, and it almost cost me everything I held dear. I won’t make it again. I played this for Jenny, and it moved her so much she gave me Kara back. I want you to hear it, too. This is a recording made of the phone call Hendrix made. It’s scary. Are you ready?” She nodded. Robert started it.
Chills coursed through her body as the voice she knew so well screamed in Arabic, “I think I got him.” As her cousin had, she moved closer and closer to Robert as the recording played, until she was leaning against him. Tears of pride rolled down her cheeks when Hendrix mentioned, “That’s my buddy, Owens, who’s in a Republican Guard uniform squatting between me and an Iraqi tank trying to give me time to get this message out.” She jumped out of her chair and embraced Robert when loud gunshots went off in the background, and Hendrix yelled, “Christ, that was close. Good shot, Owens!” Tears of sorrow flowed as Robert could be heard screaming, “Time’s out, Hendrix! Run!” and later from a greater distance, “Get out of there!” as the line went dead.
By the end, her head was on his chest, and he was stroking her hair. She was too choked up to say a word. After a few minutes, she sat up and wiped her eyes, but still didn’t know what to say. He opened the drawer, removed a case, opened it, and showed her his Distinguished Service Cross, which had been delivered while he was out west. That choked her up even more.
“That night, Krissy, it’s so hard for me, you know? This recording, scary as it is, doesn’t come close to conveying the intensity of the horror: the clamor, the chaos, the stench, the sight of men getting blown apart. And that was just over a minute of it.” He repeated the histrionics he used with Jennifer, putting her there with Hendrix for that incredible minute.
She couldn’t speak for a few moments after he finished. Finally, she managed to say, “I love you!” She wanted to make love to him, but she worried how he might judge her, since she was still engaged to Mark. She wanted to forswear Mark, but she worried that he would think her superficial for acting on the basis of his one night of heroics. And he had yet to convince her his love was everlasting. She kissed him on the cheek and left.
Robert had hoped the recording would be enough to persuade her to end her engagement, but since that did not come to pass, he was at a loss about what to do next. He decided to wait for her to make the next move, but three days after the scene in his apartment, something came up.
Kristen was frightened by a loud rapping on her door. It was 2:47 AM. She nervously went to her door and called out, “Who’s there?”
“It’s Bob. Kara’s really sick. Please help her, Krissy!” She opened her door to see the alarmed father holding his little girl with a look that screamed, “She’s dying! Please save her!” Kara coughed. It sounded like a barking seal.
Robert said, “She was fine when she went to bed and suddenly started coughing like this. She’s also wheezing and is having trouble getting air. God, Krissy, I think she might be choking to death. I ran all the way here with her. Please help her!” Kara coughed hard again.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “It’s just croup. Give her to me.” He gave Kara to Dr. Taylor, who took her to the bathroom. “Come on in and close the door.” He did as directed. Kristen turned on the hot water in the shower and sink. She sat Kara on her lap, and as she patted the girl’s back, said, “Calm down, Kara; you’ll be okay.”
Kara improved before their eyes.
Kristen explained, “Croup is a virus with symptoms that always scare the uninitiated parent: trouble breathing, the barking cough, and wheezing. Technically it’s not wheezing; never mind. All you need to know is the symptoms can usually be alleviated by cool or humid air. A steamy bathroom generally does the trick. A walk in the cool weather often works as well. If you’d walked over here, she probably would’ve been fine by the time you got here.” She handed back the sleeping toddler to her relieved father.
He expressed his thanks. They went out to her family room, and he put Kara down on the chesterfield. In his emotional state, he embraced Kristen. The couple stared intently into each other’s eyes. Completely under his power, she slowly tilted her head to the right and moved her mouth gradually, but inexorably, toward his. Completely under her power, he did the same. The kiss, the most passionate either had experienced since the one they shared in the river so many years before, affirmed the fervent love they would always feel for each other.
Finally, he stopped himself, saying, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why not?” she said breathlessly, looking at him as she did after their first kiss half a lifetime ago.
“Because you’re still engaged. Mark is the luckiest man on the planet. Sorry for waking you up. We’ll go now.”
“Bobby …”
&
nbsp; “Yes?”
“Um … Any time you need anything, just ask. I promise my answer will be yes.”
He thought she might be hinting that she would welcome his proposal, but couldn’t bring himself to risk proposing to her while she was engaged to another man. That had to happen first, he resolved to himself. Robert picked up Kara, kissed Kristen’s cheek and left.
He didn’t mention to her that Jennifer was due to visit him the next day. He thought it best to leave Jennifer out of the picture as much as possible.
Jennifer arrived on schedule and spent the four days with him and Kara, and doing interviews for local stations and papers on her much anticipated homecoming.
The night of the concert, she was as nervous as she ever got before a show. The hometown crowd and the man she loved were on hand. Robert, Kara and Brian were front row center. The lights were lowered, and the audience cheered in anticipation. All at once, a barrage of lights and sound astonished the crowd. They screamed. Jennifer, dressed provocatively, stood stationary, shimmering in the spotlights as the music revved up. When the drums kicked in, she began to dance in time with the quickening beat. Dancers flooded in from the wings. The audience cheered as they recognized the song: Jennifer’s current hit. Jennifer sang and acted out the song, which was about a diva spoiled to the core by fame and fortune.
“There’s Mommy,” said Robert to Kara.
Jennifer was mesmerizing in her red mini dress as she strutted to the beat, swayed her hips on just the right notes, sat on a stool, and crossed her shapely legs as she was doted on by male dancers whom she mistreated or ignored. The spectators loved it.
When the song came to an end, Jennifer stepped forward and said, “Hello, London. It’s great to be home!” That whipped the crowd into a frenzy. She broke into her most popular song as the audience continued to scream its approval.
Robert, Kara, and Brian sat and gazed at the show open-mouthed. Deep bass notes, the thump of the drums, and the loud, upbeat tune had everyone on their feet dancing to the music and singing along. At the end of her number, she looked down to the first row and said, “Hi, honey!” to Kara. As arranged earlier, Robert got up to give Kara to Jennifer.