by G. R. Cody
“And who is this ‘old friend?’” Eve asked.
“I’m sorry, Eve,” Felix said, “but I can’t say. Eve, you father and I spent a good amount of time together in Iraq,” Felix said. “We became friends, and he spoke of you often. And he also spoke of your brother and mother, and how much he had loved them both, and how much he missed them.”
Eve and Robert looked at each other, both confused. But what Felix said next neither of them were prepared for.
“And then one day, he showed me a picture of your mother. At that moment, I realized that your father and I shared a special kinship. I never told him, but I knew your mother. I knew her years before your father and she ever met.”
Eve’s head was swimming at this revelation, and could not formulate any response. Felix continued.
“I met your mother back in the early eighties in Puerto Rico,” he said. “She was working at the very same hotel we just came from as a concierge. I was there on a brief assignment for the CIA at the time, and we had a couple of dinners together, and she showed me around Puerto Rico in the three days I had left before I was due to return to the States.”
“So,” Eve asked, not fully wanting Felix to answer, “Were the two of you…romantically involved?”
“No,” Felix answered, “Your mother was an incredible woman, Eve. In a way, she restored my faith in love again after I had lost my wife some years before that. But she never loved me, nor I her really. She was beautiful, very beautiful, but I know now that she could tell I was damaged, and she seemed to know I needed a friend, someone to talk to. She listened, and I knew I could trust her to keep what I had told her to herself.”
Felix sat back up straight and continued.
“After three wonderful days, I was off with my team back to Miami,” He said. “We had come to Puerto Rico to recover something that we didn’t want the Cubans and Soviets to get their hands on and had been in Puerto Rico for far too long. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to us, the Cubans had already made plans to procure these things, and we got there just ahead of them. As payback, our boat was fired upon just as we passed into international waters. I had a team of twenty operatives, and a crew of six. By the time we were rescued by the coast guard two days later, there were only four of us left.
“I clung to a piece of the ship along with seven others, but the sharks…” Felix stopped abruptly, not able to continue. Eve and Robert were transfixed, and after a few moments of silence, Felix said, “That’s how I ended up with this.” Felix pulled up the left arm of his robe with his right hand, exposing a prosthetic forearm attached just below his elbow.
“I was lucky to be alive given the amount of blood I lost,” Felix continued. “I never saw your mother again, but I was always thankful to her for her kindness. When your father showed me her picture in Iraq all those years later, I was both thankful that she had found love, and had children, but was also devastated when I heard about her death, and that of her son…your brother.”
Suddenly, Eve was fighting back tears. The last time she had been here in this cabin was just after her mother and brother’s death. Her father had taken to spending a great deal of time here then, trying to escape from the pain of being at home in Atlanta surrounded by memories of the life they had built there together, and had come crashing down so cataclysmically and suddenly. After another moment of deafening silence, Eve rose up and went to the kitchen, leaving Felix and Robert.
She noticed that the washing machine had stopped, so she preoccupied herself by throwing the wet clothes into the dryer and started it. Then, she opened the fridge and poured herself another glass of wine and downed it in three gulps. Tears were now streaming down her face as Robert entered the kitchen. She grabbed him and pressed her face into his chest and the towel around her hair fell to the floor. She wept silently into his robe as he gently massaged the back of her head.
“It never goes away, does it?” Eve sobbed.
“No, it doesn’t,” Robert answered, as she felt a tear hit her forehead, and she knew he was thinking of his mother too. After a few minutes in each other’s arms, they both calmed themselves and each other without saying another word, and returned to the living room.
“Eve, I’m sorry…” Felix started, but Eve raised a hand as she sat down again opposite him.
“Tell me everything.” Eve said through a faint smile. “Please, I want to know everything about the time you spent together. I want to know. Please.”
After a couple of hours, Felix had recounted their three days together. Every moment that passed, that Eve heard more about her mother that she had never known, filled her heart and made her smile. While they had sat talking, Robert had rummaged through the kitchen and cooked a hodge podge of a dinner. He had found some pasta, scallops and baked fish and some vegetables and put together a nice primavera, although there wasn’t any sauce, only butter, but Eve was impressed with Robert’s culinary skills. When they were finished eating, they all agreed that it was time to get some rest. Felix retired to his room on the first floor after collecting his clothes from the dryer, and Robert and Eve walked up the stairs together.
Once they reached the second floor, Eve hugged Robert, and they kissed each other on the cheeks.
“Good night, Robert”, Eve said, “and thank you…for everything.”
Robert clasped her hands, brought each to his lips and gently kissed her palms.
“You’re welcome,” he whispered. “See you in the morning, Eve.”
Eve looked into Robert’s eyes, and the corners of her mouth dropped just slightly, because she knew that she was going to have to make sure they didn’t see each other in the morning. She regretted what she had to, but she had no choice.
Robert turned and walked to his bedroom as she watched, and she turned and went into the master bedroom. She stood in front of the window next to the bed. The skies had cleared and a crescent moon was high in the sky, rimmed in a haze from the earlier storm. She smiled as she replayed some of the things Felix had said about her mother in her head, and then she thought about Robert, and then Arthur, and then about what lie ahead tomorrow. A confluence of emotions were running through her mind and body all at once, relief, excitement, contentment, sadness, relief, and a bit of loneliness.
Just as she was about to turn and get under the covers, she saw something below glow a bright orange for a second, then go out. She squinted, and saw that Felix had dressed, and he was smoking again, and was walking toward the entrance of the retreat, his bag slung across his shoulder. A few seconds later, a taxicab pulled up beside him, he threw the cigarette to the ground and he got in. The cab then turned around and headed out, and its red tail lights vanished into the trees lining the main road.
“What’s the closest airport?” Felix asked the cab driver flatly once he had closed the door.
“Tallahassee,” the cab driver answered, “Jacksonville’s a bit further, but more flights. But that’s a good 2 and a half hours; will be a pretty penny.”
Felix looked down at his watch. It was now ten o’clock, so he’d probably have to wait for an early morning flight into Atlanta, then catch a connecting to New York or Newark, and then probably rent a car on to West Point. It was going to be another long day on airplanes and in airports.
“Jacksonville, then,” Felix told the cabbie, “Just find me a motel near the airport. You take credit cards?”
“Sure,” the cabbie said.
“Just wake me when we get there, will you?” Felix said, as he lay down across the back seat of the cab.
He didn’t feel bad now leaving Eve given the ID card and badge he found in her bag while she slept in the cockpit on their way in from Puerto Rico, but he was curious why she hadn’t been candid with him about who she was. And he also wondered whether Robert even knew, or her father. He doubted it; he had never been allowed to tell anyone either.
CHAPTER 14
Eve felt the phone vibrate next to her ear. The display read 4:02AM, and her inbox now re
ad “1.” She opened the text, and turned off the alarm which she had set for 4:30.
Eve pressed herself up and dressed in her now clean jogging outfit, and she silently hoped to herself that she would pass somewhere she could get more clothes on the way. She wrapped up the phone cord and put it in her camera bag, double checked that she had her license, passport and ID, then quietly tiptoed downstairs, leaving the note she had written for Robert on the kitchen counter.
As she opened the front door, she noticed another note pinned to it with her name on it. She plucked it down, opened it, and held her phone up to it for light.
“Eve, had to leave. On a tight schedule, and I may have to fly from one end of the continent to the other to get the answers I need. Have a feeling you will be safe from here on, but here is my number, in case you need anything. Prefer text. Felix”
And he had scrawled his phone number.
“P.S. I think I’ll start with West Point. Makes the most sense.”
Eve smiled, and shoved the letter and the phone into her camera bag.
The air was still muggy given it was late August. The red clay was still damp, and she was careful to stay to the edge of the road to avoid puddles, and within about five minutes she was in front of Mary Witherspoon’s house. A porch light was on, and as she approached she could see that the kitchen light was on. A window was open, and as she climbed the stairs to the front porch, she heard a tea pot begin to whistle, then stop suddenly.
Eve rang the bell, and Mrs. WItherspoon opened after Eve saw the peep hole go dark for a second.
“Eve?” Mary said, holding her baby blue robe together just under her chin. “Is everything okay? Come in, come in?”
“Yes, everything is fine,” Eve said with a smile, taking off her shoes and then entering the living room.
“Well, come have some tea,” Mary said, closing the door and locking it back. “You look as if you are ready for a jog. But I wouldn’t recommend it this early around here. Any car passing would have a shock anyone jogging on the road around here this hour…”
“No, unfortunately these are the only clothes I have clean,” Eve said, as they entered the kitchen. Mary offered Eve a seat at the kitchen table. Eve set her Nike’s next to the wall and had a seat. “Actually, I am here to ask a favor.”
“Of course, what is it dear?” Mary answered with her back to Eve, pouring hot water over Lipton tea bags into two flowered china cups on saucers on the counter.
“I was wondering if I could borrow the Woody,” Eve said as Mary placed a cup in front of Eve and pushed a caddy toward her with lemon slices and sugar cubes. Eve placed one cube in her tea, then squeezed the lemon in and stirred.
“Need to do some shopping?” Mary said, sitting down in the chair next to Eve.
“Actually, no,” Eve admitted. “I might need it for a couple of days, actually.”
There were a few seconds of a silent pause as Mrs. Witherspoon stared over her bifocals into Eve’s eyes, making her feel as if she were being waited out by the school Principal.
“So, is Robert coming along?” She asked Eve. “And Felix?”
“No,” Eve said, a bit uncomfortably, as she really was hoping to explain as little as possible. “Actually, Felix left last night…”
“Yes,” Mary said and nodded. “I saw him get in the cab last night.”
“And Robert…” but Eve stopped. She hadn’t prepared to explain why she was leaving without him.
Eve was both shocked and relieved when Mary began to laugh, a full body laugh that she tried to muffle, even though no one but Eve would have heard her if she hadn’t.
“Oh, Eve,” Mary said through the laughter, getting up and taking a ring of keys off of a hook next to the back door. “So like your mother. Here,” Mary handed her the keys as she sat again.
“Thanks,” Eve responded automatically, but Mrs. Witherspoon’s last sentence was reverberating in her mind as Eve watched the old woman squeeze a lemon wedge into her tea, bring the cup to her lips, blow and take a sip. Once Mrs. Witherspoon had replaced it into the saucer, Eve spoke.
“What do you mean ‘So like my mother’?” Eve muttered.
Mary’s laugh was gone, but her smile remained, although it was not a joyous smile; it had changed a bit. It was warm and loving, almost sympathetic. She placed her hands on Eve’s left hand, covering it. Her hands were wrinkled, covered in liver spots, and Eve could see the veins and tendons move under the skin. But they were warm, exceedingly warm.
“How old were you when your mother died,” Mary asked, almost in a whisper.
“Six,” Eve said in a broken voice, “I was six.”
“I knew Olen, my husband, for fifty-seven years,” Mary continued, “Fifty-four of those as my husband. And I found out things about him after he died that I never knew, things he never shared with me. Oh, they weren’t things that he purposely kept from me. But still, in looking through old photographs, boxes from his childhood that we never bothered to open or I had forgotten we still had, talking with his brother and sisters, and friends he had made throughout our lives together after he passed, what he kept in his wallet, I learned even more about him after he left me.
“And I had fifty-seven years with him,” Mary continued, patting Eve’s hand gently. “Almost all his life, save nineteen years. And you only had six with your mother. She knew everything about you, but you knew very little about her. And I would imagine that, given the circumstances, after she died and until now, it is still painful to speak about her. Not only for you, but for your father, I’m sure. And those that knew her probably don’t want to open any wounds with you now or since.
“Take my advice. Start to ask about her with the people who knew her, starting with your father. You are old enough now, and it is important. The older I get, the more I come to understand that people are more like their parents than they ever realize. And in that vein, I want to share with you what I knew about her, however little it was. But first, tell me what you remember about her.”
Eve felt a lump in her throat as she started.
“I remember her hair. It was long and red, like mine. And she had green eyes, like me. From what I recall, and pictures I have seen, she was pretty.”
“Oh, she was far more than just ‘pretty,’ Eve,” Mary said with a chuckle. “She was drop dead gorgeous, your mother. She looked just like Rita Hayworth, down to the hair.”
Eve smiled a bit, then continued. “I remember she was kind, and I never remember her ever raising her voice, always very calm.”
“Well, I will give you this,” Mary chuckled again, “She was a very good mother. And yes, she was that way, especially around you and Sam. But she had her moments, though. She was a very independent and willful woman. Had a career as I understand it before she and your father married. There were many times when you and Sam were very young that she and your father would have, let’s say, a difference of opinion, and she would come here to cool down. She always came here to get her energy out. She did love it so. Gave her a sense of freedom, abandon. And she was very adept at it.”
Eve had lost Mary’s meaning. “So loved what?”
“Has your father never told you?” Mary asked, her eyes widened. “You mother was a pilot. Best female pilot I ever saw. She had a Sandpiper that she kept down here, in the very same hangar where Robert’s plane is. Sometimes she would just stay a couple of days, fly down the coast or up the panhandle for a few hours; but occasionally she would be gone for days on end. My guess is she would hop down to Puerto Rico, or the Virgin Islands, maybe the Caymans or the Keys. But whenever she returned, she was relaxed and ready to head back to Atlanta. As you two got older, she stopped coming altogether by herself, and I could see she was calming down, accepting and embracing motherhood. But she did struggle at the beginning. But then again, most all women do.”
Eve’s head was swimming. Her mother flew planes?
“But know this, Eve,” Mary said in a resolute tone, “Your mother loved yo
u and Sam. Adored you. And your father as well.”
Eve sat and sipped her tea, and expected to feel sad, or pain. But perhaps Mary was right; perhaps she was old enough now for the pain to have taken a back seat to curiosity and yearning, because all she felt was warmth and thankfulness for knowing.
“Thank you, Mary,” Eve said as she dabbed her eyes with a napkin from the centerpiece.
“Don’t think on it, dear,” Mary said, releasing Eve’s left hand and tapping her on the cheek lightly, “That’s what us old folk are here for. Now, and pardon the expression, but don’t you have a plane to catch? The skies outside are getting awful blue and I imagine Robert will be waking soon.”