A River Through Two Harbors

by Dennis Herschbach

  Zak placed his hand on her arm to steady her. “Take care of yourself, Deidre. The world needs people like you.”

  She looked at him and was struck by the sincerity expressed by his eyes.

  “Thanks, Zak.” She made it to her bed and crawled beneath the covers, still clothed but shoeless.

  Deidre was awakened by Pete’s cold nose nudging her hand that was draped over the side of the bed. He whined and pranced toward the door. She sat up, squinted her eyes to make out the numbers on her digital clock, 6:31.

  “Ah, Pete. This early?” she mumbled but climbed out of bed to let him out to do his thing.

  The cold, late December air cleared her head. By the time she threw a couple of billets of wood in the stove, she was almost awake, almost. She made a pot of coffee and sat so she could look out her living room window. Cedar Lake was frozen solid, and along the far shore she saw two timber wolves following what she suspected was a deer, or maybe a moose had passed that way. She picked up the binoculars kept by the chair for times like this. Watching the animals lope along, their easy gait eating up distance, she was at peace, but in seconds, peace was replaced with a wave of loneliness. She realized she needed more than what this wilderness had to offer.

  The toilet flushed, and she remembered she wasn’t alone. Zak came out of the bathroom, looking the way she imagined she must look.

  “Whoo. That was quite the night,” he exclaimed as he flopped down in the chair that matched the one in which Deidre lounged. “Got a cup of coffee?”

  “Over there.” She jerked her head toward the kitchen counter. “You’ll have to serve yourself,” she said in a voice still hoarse with morning clog.

  Zak forced himself out of the soft chair and returned with a cup of brew. “Got any brandy to put in it?” He laughed. Deidre looked at him through bleary eyes. “Never mind,” he said and arranged himself in the chair again.

  “You gonna be okay?” He took a sip of the coffee and winced. She watched him blow over the top of the cup, trying to cool the liquid enough so he could comfortably drink it.

  “Yeah, Ben and the girls will be here by evening. He said he had to work this morning, and by the time he gets them packed up and ready to go, it will be at least six before they arrive. I’ll be okay.”

  “I’ve got to get back as soon as I can. Called my wife last night and told her I was staying with a good-looking blonde. She didn’t think that was funny. I might need you to vouch for me.” He chuckled, and Deidre was beginning to see the humor in the day.

  “Anyway, if you’re sure you’ll be okay, I’m going to take off for home. I promised my wife and kids we’d go skating this afternoon. There’s a real nice pond open to the public at a place up on the hill, Chester Park. You and Ben should take his girls there sometime. It’s a great place to slide and have a good time. Has a warming house where they serve snacks and cocoa. Maybe we’ll see you there sometime.”

  Zak stood and was making his way to the kitchen. Deidre followed him, handed him his jacket, and took his hand.

  “Thanks, Zak.”

  “For what?”

  “For including me, for not cutting me out of the action, for accepting me for my skills.”

  “It was our gain,” he said matter-of-factly. “You sure you’ll be okay?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Deidre watched Zak drive away, and a surge of profound loss swept over her, almost panic. She walked to the window. The wolves had vanished into the frost-filled air, the tree line was muted in the cold, and she was overwhelmed with the silence. Somewhere in her cabin, the frost forced a nail to push out, and the resounding snap made her jump. She decided the first thing she needed to do was clean up.

  The hot shower felt wonderful on her bare skin, and she shampooed her hair, rinsing it in the spray. Normally she conserved water, especially in the winter when she had concerns about her country wastewater disposal system, but today she allowed herself the luxury of standing in the hot steam.

  Eventually, she had to give up, and she turned off the faucet, wiped the fogged-over mirror with a towel, and combed out her tangled hair.

  In her reflection, she could still see the outline of the wound from when she had been shot in the chest several years ago. It had healed, but she would always carry that reminder. She touched it with her fingers, then ignored the scar as she dried herself. After donning a robe, she opened the bathroom door, allowing the steam to escape into the rest of the cabin. Her eyes widened.

  “Surprise!” the girls cried out, and came running to greet her. Ben stood by the table, waiting for them to finish their greetings. When Megan and Maren had received their kisses and hugs, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her.

  “Deidre, Deidre, Deidre,” he repeated. “What am I going to do with you? Every time I let you out of my sight, you’re doing some foolish thing. Am I going to have to sit on you to keep you out of trouble?”

  He kept her engulfed in his arms, swaying from side to side as though rocking her. Deidre felt his warm body, and cuddled up to his chest. She was so choked up she couldn’t say anything.

  “What do I have to say to make you believe that we need you? Doesn’t that mean anything to you?” Without looking up or pulling away, she nodded.

  Finally, Deidre could speak. “What are you doing here so early? How did you find out?”

  “Zak called me last night from his car. He told me what had happened, and he suggested I take today off and get up here as soon as I could. I told him I’d be coming here tonight and would be staying through New Year’s. He was worried about your mental state and didn’t want you to be alone any more than you had to be.”

  Ben didn’t let go of Deidre, and the girls recognized that some­thing was wrong. They stood in one place, staring at the couple.

  “Is it going to be okay, Daddy?” Megan finally asked.

  Ben looked at the girls and let go of Deidre, although he kept hold of her hand. “It’s going to be okay, I promise. Why don’t you girls go give Pete some attention. Look at him. He’s wagging his tail and wants you to scratch behind his ears.”

  The girls scrambled over to Pete and soon were wrestling with the Lab, he mouthing their small hands and they hung onto his neck.

  Ben led Deidre to the couch, and they sat facing the lake. “Tell me what happened.”

  She began from the beginning, recounting how Pete had known about the resort. He had made the connection between it and the key she had found near Anna’s body. She hadn’t thought through the consequences of her actions, putting herself in mortal danger.

  “If I was that terrified of LaTourell and Jameson, imagine how helpless those poor girls must have felt in their hands. Think of being abducted and trussed up in a duffle bag, transported in a canoe without knowing where you were being taken, and then being locked up and held like livestock waiting your turn to be used.” She shuddered.

  Ben held her close. “It turned out as well as it could have. There’s no use looking back. They’re safe. You’re safe, and those two will never victimize girls again.”

  Deidre curled up next to him as the twins crawled into their laps.

  “And we’re going to celebrate the New Year.” He stroked the back of Deidre’s hair, and the four of them watched as a woodpecker landed on a tree outside the window and began hammering away at it.

  “Do you think woodpeckers ever get headaches?” Maren asked, and they all burst out laughing.

  Chapter 34

  Two days after they ushered in the new year, Deidre made one last trip to the Federal Building in Duluth and looked up Zak.

  “When we were in my cabin, you said I could read the suicide letter left my Judge DeMarcus. Does the offer still stand?”

  Zak opened his file cabinet and shuffled through a few folders, extracted the right one, and
laid it in front of her.

  “Don’t let it out of this office,” he reminded her. “I’ve got to take a walk down the hall for a few minutes,” and he left Deidre alone to read the judge’s final verdict. She tentatively opened it, wondering what a suicidal person would reveal.

  To My Family,

  I’m going to try to explain how I have arrived at this place. It will do no good to those who I have harmed, won’t do you any good, probably. But I feel I must tell you.

  At one time, I was a good husband, a good father, and a good judge, and we were happy. I hope the memories you hang onto of me will be of those times. I know what pain I have caused you, and I know what I’ve lost.

  Somewhere, I lost my moral compass, or at least forgot how to read it. The stress of the job was sometimes almost overwhelming, not that I’m using that for an excuse. Most judges cope, but a few of us from the office began to stop at a lounge after work to have a drink and unwind. It became a daily ritual.

  As time went by, the drink we had became two, three, four. After a few drinks, a few more don’t matter. I’m sure you saw the change in me, and don’t blame yourself for not intervening. I always was a stubborn ass.

  About four years ago, when I was drunk, I met this guy at the bar who asked me if I wanted a real ride, a real thrill. At first, I didn’t understand, but then he showed me a picture of this woman, girl really, and said he’d set me up with her.

  Like a fool, I went with him to a place he said was his. Well, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you the details. He had a hidden video camera set up and taped the whole thing.

  I tried to forget about what I had done, but several weeks later a case came before me involving a prostitution charge. I received a video CD in the mail with a note telling to look at it. The note said I’d know what to do about the prostitution case I was hearing. I don’t have to tell you what was on the disc.

  From that time on, they had me. I drank more to ease my con­science, not that it helped, but finally I reached the bottom. You left, the kids don’t want to be associated with me, and I have lost my career. What remains of my life? Nothing.

  I can’t ask you to forgive me, and I won’t ask. Only know that I deeply regret what I have done to you, to the kids, to myself. May you find peace when I am gone from your lives. I love you, Tony

  Deidre slowly closed the folder as Zak returned. “I don’t under­stand how someone can be so self-destructive. It’s a shame.”

  Zak slipped the paper into its proper slot and closed the drawer. He shook his head.

  *****

  Deidre closed up her office the first week of January. She worried about Jill and where she would go. Jill was the most efficient secretary she had ever worked with, and she wanted more than anything to help her find a more permanent position. That wasn’t possible, she thought, because she no longer had any influence with the county system. She dreaded having to say goodbye.

  Jill waltzed into her office. Several of her piercings were missing and her hair was died monochromatic, light brown. Instead of looking downcast because she was no longer needed, her head was held high, and she had a sparkle in her eye.

  “Deidre, I want you to know, you’re the best boss I ever had, and you’ve been more of an example for me than you can ever believe. Here, I want you to have this.” She handed Deidre a small rectangular package.

  Deidre peeled the wrapping away, exposing a pasteboard box, which she carefully opened. Inside was a nameplate for placing on a desk. Deidre read the inscription: BOSS LADY.

  They both laughed and hugged each other. “I’m so glad you were assigned to work with me,” Deidre said, her eyes beginning to mist. “I couldn’t have asked for a better person. But I worry about you. I think you should set your sights higher than being a temp and a volunteer. Think about it. Will you?”

  Jill’s face lit up even brighter than it had been. “That was the next thing I wanted to tell you. I received a call from your friend, Melissa. She wants me to apply for a secretarial job with the BCA. She’ll try to pull some strings,” she said.

  Deidre looked directly into Jill’s eyes. “Go for it,” They walked out of the door together, Jill turning the key in the lock for the last time.

  *****

  Deidre spent the rest of January at her cabin, hauling firewood, cleaning the place, snowshoeing with Pete trailing behind on the trail she packed, and catching up on some reading.

  Two weekends each month, she traveled to Duluth to be with Ben and the girls, and they came to spend the other two weekends at her cabin. It became more difficult to say goodbye each time.

  February arrived and with it Valentine’s Day. She bought special gifts for Megan and Maren, and she spent that day and night in Duluth with them. Ben surprised her with a night on the town, beginning with a fancy meal at a hotel having a revolving restaurant perched fifteen stories atop its rooms. It made a complete revolution every hour. Twice, they saw the same street pass below them.

  He had purchased tickets to a magnificent ice show at the entertainment center, and following the show, they were treated to a concert by the symphony, celebrating the occasion with music fit for the Boston Pops.

  Afterward, they went to a quiet lounge where they each ordered a drink.

  “And so I propose a toast.” Ben raised his goblet and waited for Deidre to raise hers. “A toast to times gone by, to memories and to our successes, even to our failures. Here’s to the joy we had in Jenny and in John. May they rest in peace.” Deidre was shocked by his solemnity at the moment, but he continued. “And here’s to the future, our future. Happy Valentine’s Day, Deidre,” and he kissed her on her lips.

  *****

  In March they celebrated Megan’s and Maren’s fifth birthday. Each girl had her favorite birthday cake, and they were allowed to invite a few girls from their pre-school class to spend the night on a so-called sleepover.

  The weekends kept starting sooner and lasting longer for Deidre, sometimes beginning early Friday morning when she arrived at Ben’s house and lasting until Monday evening, after the girls had been tucked into bed and she left for her cabin.

  One sunny day near the end of March, she was alone at her cabin. The early spring sun was shining through her living room window, and outside, animals and birds were becoming active again, a few having begun to move north from more southerly climes.

  The night before, Pete had wanted to come in, but he carried with him the distinct smell of skunk. Deidre was reminded by the odor that still clung to his fur, that March was skunk mating season, and they had come out of their winter’s hibernation to carry out their courtships. Pete slept in the nearly empty woodshed that night.

  As she soaked in the rays trapped by the window glass, she watched droplets of water drip from a row of icicles hanging from the cabin’s eaves, and she realized this was not the life she wanted.

  She needed people. Not just people. She needed friends, com­panions who would share her joys and her sorrows. She needed people she could touch, people for whom she could lend comfort. She needed to be in the lives of Megan and Maren.

  Deidre struggled with the thought that she might have fallen in love with Ben. She tried to convince herself that it wasn’t true, and she almost succeeded. She vowed she was going to have to confront that possibility, but the thought scared her.

  Her excuse was that she was afraid to give herself, emotionally or physically, to anyone again for fear that he would be taken from her like John had been. Then too, she couldn’t face the possibility that he might not feel the same way she did, and by using the word “love,” she might destroy what they had.

  Confused, Deidre fell asleep in the sunshine, and the sun was setting when she woke. After supper, she strapped on her snowshoes and took Pete for a walk across the frozen lake. She stopped and rubbed snow into his fur until it smelled
fresh and clean, knowing that when he warmed inside the cabin, the smell would return, but it would be faint.

  As they turned toward home, Deidre looked straight up at the stars. Polaris lit the way north, and she could clearly see Orion, his belt of stars twinkling around his middle and she was captivated by the expanse of the Milky Way. It was then she made up her mind.

  She wouldn’t risk alienating Ben with that four letter word, and she decided the status quo was better than nothing. She vowed to make the most of the situation, loving the girls like a mother, being with Ben as a companion, and loving them all as much as possible.

  *****

  April was typical for northern Minnesota. During the night, tem­peratures dropped to the mid, or even low, twenties. Twice, snow dusted the area, and an early April blizzard dumped a foot of snow across the region. It melted in three days, but still, it dampened spirits, but not Deidre’s.

  She’d heard a forecast of the impending storm, and packed up Pete, a few clothes, and her toiletry case. She reached Duluth as the first sticky flakes of wet snow had started to fall, and all four of them, Ben, Megan, Maren, and Deidre, were snowed in for two days while the wind whipped off Lake Superior and lake-effect snow piled up outside.

  As soon as the storm subsided, they dressed in winter garb and went out to build a snowman. When it was complete, they flopped in the snow, moving their arms and legs back and forth, spreading their legs and sweeping their arms from their sides to over their heads.

  Ben stood up as carefully as he could and helped the others to their feet. Deidre looked at the “angel” imprints left in the snow. She choked back her tears, and resisted the urge to print Mom, Dad, Megan, and Maren above the figures.

  “Come on. Hot chocolate for everyone,” Ben called out, and he held the door open for them to go inside.