Dylan looked down at the beer in his hand.
“Dylan?”
“Mom, I—”
“Dylan, whatever is on your mind, you can tell me. You don’t have to tell me. I wish you would.”
“I don’t—”
“Dylan?” Dylan looked up and Cassidy’s heart stopped. She couldn’t remember the last time she saw tears in his eyes. “What is it?”
Dylan shook his head. “Maggie,” he muttered.
Maggie was Dylan’s high school sweetheart. The two were determined to maintain a long-distance relationship. Cassidy guessed that Maggie decided it was time to make a break. “Oh, honey, did you two break up?”
Dylan shook his head. “She—”
“Dylan?”
“Mom, she—I can’t tell you this.”
“You can tell me anything,” Cassidy assured her son. “Anything. It sounds to me like you need to talk to someone.”
Dylan looked back at his mother. “She had an abortion.”
Cassidy was stunned.
“That was my reaction.”
Cassidy set down her wine glass. “Maggie was pregnant?”
Dylan nodded. “The thing is, she didn’t tell me that either.”
Cassidy tried to process Dylan’s revelation. She was aware that Dylan and Maggie were sexually active. She was also under the impression that they were being cautious. That aside, she was astounded that Maggie would keep a pregnancy secret from Dylan. “When did she tell you?”
“She didn’t,” Dylan said. “Her roommate told me. She was worried about Maggie. Said she wasn’t going to class, and she thought I should know.” He took a deep breath. “She said she would never want me to give up my dream.” He shook his head. “My dream? Mom, what about my kid? I mean, didn’t she think I should know? I’m not saying we would have done anything differently. How can I ever know that now? And, how can I trust her?”
“Oh, Dylan, I don’t know that answer. I think Maggie was scared. I have to imagine she wanted to tell you.”
“I know she did. She could have. Why didn’t she trust me?”
“I doubt that it’s you she doesn’t trust, honey.”
“Please, don’t tell Alex.”
“Dylan—”
“Mom, she’ll be so disappointed in me.”
Tears welled in Cassidy’s eyes. “Disappointed in you? No, sweetheart, Alex will not be disappointed in you. Concerned about you, not disappointed.”
“Maggie thinks being in the Academy is more important to me than her being pregnant. That’s what she thinks of me, Mom.”
“No, Dylan.”
“I fucked up. We fucked up.”
“Is that how you see it?” Cassidy asked gently.
“I don’t know. It’s not like we weren’t careful. I don’t get it. She told me she was taking the pill. Do I believe that now? What else hasn’t she told me?”
Cassidy felt sick. This is why secrets and lies had no good ending—doubt. No matter the intention behind any secret or any lie, their discovery always undermined trust. Rightfully so, in Cassidy’s opinion. Trust was easier to build than most people wanted to admit. It could be broken in an instant. It was infinitely more difficult to repair. She knew Maggie almost as well as she knew her children. Maggie Nolan loved Dylan. Dylan had talked about becoming a Navy pilot since he was in middle school. She would never want to deny him that dream. Cassidy was as sure as she could be that Maggie wanted to protect Dylan—that she thought she was doing the right thing for them both. She imagined it had to be lonely for Maggie to make that decision, and unbelievably traumatic. She empathized. Dylan was a sensitive young man. He was demonstrative, and he loved his brother and sisters. He’d been a hands-on big brother. Cassidy also understood that learning he might have been someone’s father affected Dylan deeply. She wasn’t sure that he would have agreed to Maggie’s abortion. And, she was confident Maggie surmised the likelihood that Dylan would struggle with the idea of terminating the pregnancy. These were treacherous emotional waters, and she needed to tread lightly.
“I don’t know,” Cassidy answered honestly. “I do believe that Maggie would never purposely hurt you.”
Dylan closed his eyes. “I know,” he confessed.
“You know—”
“I know what you’re going to say—everything happens for a reason.”
“No. I wasn’t going to say that at all. I don’t think that everything happens for a reason.”
“You don’t?”
“No, I don’t. I think our decisions affect more than us, and I think we can find purpose in everything. That’s not the same. I am sorry that you are going through this.”
“I could’ve been somebody’s dad.”
Cassidy listened.
“I’m not ready to be anyone’s dad,” he admitted. “But I was—kind of—and, Maggie—she—Mom, she won’t even talk to me now. She says she can’t face me. What the hell is that?”
“Guilt,” Cassidy said honestly. “Fear. Pain. Give her a little time, Dylan.”
“What about me? She didn’t give me any time to think about any of it.”
“No. She didn’t. Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you still love Maggie?”
He nodded.
“That’s what I thought. That’s why it hurts so much.”
“Do you know what’s messed up?”
Cassidy shook her head.
“I think what bothers me the most is that I feel guilty that she was alone. I mean, what did I do that made her think she couldn’t tell me?”
“Oh, honey, I know Maggie. I don’t think that’s the reason she kept this from you. I think she was afraid you would give up something that you’ve always wanted for her—for that baby. Even if you weren’t ready. I don’t think she wanted you to do that. And, honestly, I would bet that she thinks she fucked up somehow, not you.”
Dylan hung his head. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?”
“I know you probably think I’m—”
Cassidy got up and moved over next to Dylan. “I think you are one of the most sensitive people I know,” she said. “You have always been kind and loving, Dylan. Things happen sometimes that we don’t plan. Do they happen for a specific reason? I don’t know. Look at me.”
Dylan looked up.
Cassidy took a deep breath. “Do you think less of me because of how you were conceived?”
“No, why would—”
“You could,” Cassidy said. “I can never regret that because it brought you to me.” She kissed Dylan’s cheek. “I can’t tell you that you shouldn’t be hurt or angry. You should be, and you will be. You have to decide what to do now because you can’t go back in time, and neither can Maggie.”
“You’re not upset?”
“It hurts me to see you in pain,” Cassidy said.
“Would you have been disappointed if—”
“There are no ifs in life, Dylan. There are choices and there are consequences. Would I be disappointed in you if you told me that Maggie was pregnant? No. Concerned. I would worry about the magnitude of what was in front of you. Disappointment? Never. Before you ask me again, that goes for Alex too. I don’t need to ask her. I know.”
“You’re going to tell her, aren’t you?”
“I think you should tell Alex.”
“Tell me what?” Alex asked as she stepped onto the patio.
Dylan and Cassidy both looked up. Dylan looked fearful. Cassidy smiled. She kissed Dylan on the cheek again. “Talk to her,” she whispered. She made her way to Alex. “I’ll see you upstairs,” she said. “He needs you,” she whispered.
Alex nodded and looked at Dylan. “Speed?”
Dylan began to cry.
Alex took the seat Cassidy had occupied and enveloped Dylan in a hug. “Aw, come on, Speed. It can’t be that bad.”
“I fucked up, Alex.”
“We all fuck up,” Alex said.
�
�Not like this.”
Alex gripped Dylan’s shoulder. “I don’t know what this is yet. I guarantee you it’s not nearly as dire as you think.”
Dylan shook his head. “Guess we’ll see.”
***
Alex walked into the bedroom, shut the door, and leaned against it.
“How is he?” Cassidy asked.
“Confused,” Alex said. “Scared. Scared that we were going to hate him or something. Why would he ever think that?”
Cassidy patted the bed for Alex to sit. “You know that answer.”
“How are you?” Alex asked.
“I don’t know.”
“It’s a lot to take in.”
“The fact that we could be grandparents?” Cassidy asked lightly.
“Why didn’t he call, Cass? He’s been carrying this for a month. Why didn’t he talk to one of us?”
“You know that answer too,” Cassidy said.
“He should know—”
“He knows. Alex, Dylan is dealing with the first major upheaval of his adult life. He’s facing the fact that his life is impacted by other people’s choices. He’s also confronting the reality that sometimes there is no good decision to make.”
“I haven’t seen him cry since he was about eight.”
Cassidy nodded. “He has a lot of questions he needs to answer.”
“About Maggie.”
“That—I suspect he’s also wrestling with what matters most to him. What would he have done if she’d let him have a say in her decision?”
“Do you think he would’ve dropped out of the Academy?”
“I don’t know. He doesn’t know. That’s the problem,” Cassidy said. “He’ll never know.”
“I think he might have.”
“Possibly,” Cassidy agreed. “I think he’s realized that as much as he wants to fly, there is more to life than one goal.”
“He kept asking me how I deal with all the secrets I have to keep.”
“He asked me that too.”
“I didn’t know what to tell him.”
“What did you say?” Cassidy asked.
“I told him that there’s a nugget of truth to the fact that what you don’t know can’t hurt you. Not always. Sometimes.”
“Mm.”
“You don’t agree?”
“I don’t know,” Cassidy said. “Who can say whether knowing or not knowing is better? That choice isn’t always given to us; is it?”
“You don’t seem all that surprised by any of this,” Alex observed.
“That Maggie got pregnant? I’m not. That she didn’t talk to Dylan? I am—a little. I understand. I wish she would have told him.”
“Really? Even if it had changed things?”
“It has changed things,” Cassidy replied. “For both of them. That was inevitable no matter what decision Maggie made.”
“I wish I could make this easier for him. I don’t know, Cass. I watched him walk away, and I sat by the fire until it went out completely. I know he’s not ready to be a parent. I know how much he loves where he is now. He would have made it work—no matter what they decided, Cass. Dylan would have made it work.”
Cassidy smiled.
“But I can’t lie to you; I do feel relieved that he didn’t have to choose. I know that’s wrong—I—”
“It’s not wrong,” Cassidy disagreed.
“You too?”
“I don’t know. I’m sorry that he is hurting. I can’t imagine what Maggie must feel. Relieved? I guess I am, just a little. God, forgive me. I want everything for him,” Cassidy said. “Everything he’s dreamed about. I wish I could protect him from the fallout life rains down. I can’t. We can’t. It doesn’t get easier.”
“Great. I hope we don’t go through this will all our kids.”
“Stop talking,” Cassidy said.
Alex chuckled. “You know what I mean.”
“I do.”
Alex put her head in Cassidy’s lap. “Cass?”
“Hm?”
“We really could be someone’s grandparents.”
Cassidy grinned. “Someday‚ I hope in the not-too-distant future, we will be.”
“How distant is not too distant?”
“Oh, ten or fifteen years.”
“Mackenzie will be eighteen, almost nineteen.” Alex shuddered.
“Or twenty-three about to turn twenty-four,” Cassidy said.
“Too fast, Cass. How did Dylan get to be in college so fast?”
“It does feel like it happened overnight.”
Alex sighed.
“What are you thinking about?”
“I wish I knew what to say to him. I wish we could leave them something better. I don’t mean money. I mean—”
“I know what you mean,” Cassidy interjected.
“I don’t know if it’s possible.”
“Well, it will never be possible if you don’t try.”
Alex looked up at Cassidy and smiled. “Thanks.”
“What did I do?”
“Reminded me again why I love you.”
“Is that so?”
“You never lose faith in people, Cass.”
“Not true. I just try to remember that there are people who want to make a difference—in the best of ways. Even if they fall short sometimes, they exist. As long as they exist, there’s hope that things can change. Look at Dylan,” Cassidy said. “Every time I look at the kids, I see possibilities. That’s how I keep going.”
“On another subject, how is Claire?”
“She’s all right. Nervous about meeting El tomorrow.”
“Did something happen?”
“I don’t think so. She hasn’t been alone with El in a long time, Alex.”
“Maybe that’s overdue.”
“Maybe so.” Cassidy reached over and shut out the light.
“I really hope we aren’t grandparents until we’re at least sixty.”
“Why sixty?” Cassidy wondered.
“Sounds grandparenty.”
“If you say so, Love.”
“Don’t you think we should be just a little crusty first?”
Cassidy laughed. “Do not let my mother, or yours, hear you say that.”
“It’s like the difference between Batman and Alfred.”
“Honey, you play the butler far more than you do the Batman.”
“What?”
“Get your clothes off and get back into this bed,” Cassidy demanded.
Alex shot out of bed. She tore off her jeans and sweatshirt, climbed back under the covers and made her way to hover above Cassidy.
“What are you doing?” Cassidy asked.
“Playing Batman.”
“Where’s your mask?”
“It’s dark in here.”
Cassidy shook with laughter.
“Why are you laughing?”
“No reason, Alfred.”
“Are you saying that I’m crusty?”
“Lie down and go to sleep.”
Alex flopped next to Cassidy. “Sixty,” she muttered.
“It’s okay with me. You do get there first.”
Alex grumbled.
Cassidy flipped over and on top of Alex. “I’ll still want you, even when you are just a little crusty.”
Alex gave up and laughed. “Get off of me.”
Cassidy sniggered. “I love you, Alfred.”
“Yeah. I love you too.”
Cassidy kissed Alex’s lips. “Goodnight, Love.”
“Night, Cass. Hey, Cass?”
“Hm?”
“Maybe not quite sixty.”
Cassidy giggled. “Go to sleep.”
Not quite.
CHAPTER SIX
MINSK, BELARUS
Claire held her breath as she opened the door to her hotel room. Alex was right. She hated it when Alex was right. She’d done her best to avoid Eleana for months. As much as she tried to deny it, seeing Eleana hurt. Claire wasn’t equipped to offer Eleana the li
fe that Eleana needed and deserved—a family. Some part of her would always wish that she had been stronger, that she had been different—that their lives had taken a different path. “El.”
“Claire.”
“I can’t believe you are still here.”
“Why? Illya is my contact.”
“I didn’t think with the baby, you’d be traveling—not here.”
Eleana Baros smiled at her former lover and friend. Life had moved forward for them both. She thought that the changes in their lives had been for the better. One thing would always remain; Claire loved Eleana, and Eleana would always love Claire. No one knew Eleana Baros better than Claire Brackett—no one. There wasn’t a soul alive who understood Claire as well as Eleana did. Concern colored Claire’s voice. “Belarus was my home for years,” Eleana reminded her friend.
“I remember.” Claire directed Eleana to sit on a loveseat. “I wish you would stay out of this.”
“Illya is a friend, Claire. He’s no threat to me.”
“But he might be a threat to me?”
“No. But he would not be truthful with you,” Eleana replied.
“What did he say?”
“Kaliningrad is a gateway.”
“We know that.”
“It’s not just a port,” Eleana said. “He doesn’t know all the details. He did tell me that whatever the Russians have there, it’s something they’re prepared to protect at nearly any cost.”
“You’re saying that the military buildup in the area is a defensive precaution?”
“Partly. It’s a distraction from what lies underneath.”
“He has no idea what it is? A weapon?”
“Not the kind you are thinking,” Eleana said. “You know the Russians, Claire. They’ve been toying with technology since before World War II.”
“That’s everyone, El.”
“Yes, but the Russians have had more success at stirring the international pot within that arena. They wrote the book on espionage—the playbook that taught us. You and I both know that’s true.”
“So, what? What could they be after? The power grid? Banking?”
“All of it. They’re always looking to compromise those things. Whatever they’ve tucked away in Kaliningrad, it’s new. Russia has always liked to offer the world grandiosity as deflection. Kaliningrad is home to something more nuanced than a nuclear bomb or cutting-edge satellite technology. They have those things as well. Illya was confident that Kaliningrad houses something other than a weapon. He’s heard whispers. Nothing concrete.”
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