by Kelly Utt
“Right?” I say with a smile. “For a long, long time, I didn’t want to use the money Dad left me. Maybe I’m finally ready.”
“Holy shit, George. I’ve questioned whether or not you’d ever be ready,” Liam says. “There are other sources of funding we can consider. But using our own money will make things far easier.”
“I could approach Cornell about collaborating with us rather than employing me,” I say. “We wouldn’t be partners with the University per se, because that doesn’t seem quite right and I doubt they’d even sign on to such an arrangement. But perhaps we could hire them for R&D. Or utilize their labs.”
“Not a bad idea,” Liam replies.
“I don’t know,” I continue. “There’s a lot to consider. We can sort it all out in time. But if I tell Cornell I don’t want to move forward with the position they hired me to fill, I’d like to provide an alternative which would allow us to work together in some capacity.”
“And hey,” Liam says, “they ought to be stoked about the bonus Aerospace Engineer they’d come to know and love.”
“Absolutely,” I say with a laugh as Liam nods in agreement. “What college engineering department wouldn’t be stoked about getting to know a bonus Aerospace guy?” We laugh together and shake our heads. It feels good.
“Are you sure Ithaca, New York is the right place to home base on this though?” Liam asks. “It’s pretty isolated up here, far from military strongholds like D.C. and tech centers like Boston. Cornell’s engineering department is a big plus, but still. We have to think not only about local support for what we’ll be doing, but the ability to attract and retain top talent.”
“All good points,” I say. “But it’s more of the fact that this feels like home to me. Mom and John Wendell are here, and I think Ali will be happy here. It’s not far from our New York City family. We want to raise the boys in a place where we have roots. We’re New Yorkers.”
“I hear you,” Liam says. “I’m the only straggler not jumping back on the New York bandwagon as of yet.”
“Exactly,” I reply with another laugh. “At the heart of it all is a gut instinct, Liam. I can feel it in my bones. This is the place. And I think this is the thing.” Liam looks at me hard for a couple of minutes without saying a word.
“Really, George?” he asks.
“Maybe I have lost my mind,” I continue. “And I know I had a man by the throat in an animal hospital little more than an hour ago. But, yes. What do you think?”
“I should probably take some time to contemplate the idea,” he replies with a chuckle. “That’s the mature and responsible thing to do, right? You did just have a man by the throat in an animal hospital, after all.”
“I suppose,” I say. “I haven’t mentioned the whole business idea to Ali yet.”
“You haven’t?” Liam asks. “You had better do that, George. She may fall on the other side of the fence when it comes to privacy issues our business will raise. Even I know how she feels about that type of thing. The woman did work for the American Civil Liberties Union after all. Are you absolutely sure she will support you on this?”
“Well, she worked for the ACLU on immigration law. We’ll probably disagree on some things, but she’ll support me. I’m sure of that. When it comes to protecting Ali and the boys, I find myself caring less and less about other people’s opinions-- hers included. I’ve always felt an overwhelming need to protect my people. That need is even stronger since the break-in. I feel compelled. Called. Driven. However you want to describe it. It’s my mission. It feels good to have a mission,” I say.
“Okay, then,” Liam replies as he pulls into our driveway and parks our SUV. “Let me toss the idea around before I give you an official answer, but unofficially, yes. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’ll move up here and go into business with you, George. It would be an honor. I’ve been encouraging you to take some risks and enjoy life. I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t join you in making the leap.”
“Seriously?” I say. “I didn’t think I’d convince you that easy. That’s amazing news. This whole thing just went from outrageous idea to reality within an hour. Incredible.” I lean over inside the vehicle and give my uncle a big hug. “We have some serious planning to do. Should I wait to tell the others?”
“Give me a couple of days if you don’t mind,” he replies. “I understand if you need to tell Ali, but Estella deserves to know before it goes much beyond that.”
“Of course,” I say as I step out of the car and close the door. “We may be so busy over the next few days that there’s hardly time to talk about it anyway.”
“That would be convenient,” Liam says.
“We’d like to have Estella around, too,” I add. “I realize Ithaca isn’t the best place for a fashion designer, but maybe she could travel back and forth to New York. We love her, you know?”
“I appreciate you saying that,” Liam responds. “She and I will work something out. Like I mentioned before, it’s good timing.”
Our serious conversation ends as we take Lady out of the backseat. Taye is here, and Ali, Ethan, Leo, Roddy, and Marjorie are huddled with him in front of the living room windows waiting expectantly for Lady to come inside. Looks like she’s about to receive a hero’s welcome. She certainly deserves it. I consider carrying her in to speed the process up, but decide to let her walk with dignity. She’s probably too proud to be carried unless absolutely necessary. The pathways are clear of snow and ice. She treads carefully, little by little as she makes her way inside, looking hard around the perimeter of the yard as she goes. I lean down, pat her on the head, and tell her I felt the same way the first time I came back home after the break-in. We understand each other as far as that goes. We’re the protectors.
When we get inside, Ali and the boys kneel down close to Lady and hug her tight. She leans her head on Ethan’s little shoulder and looks so relieved. Liam and I greet Taye and welcome him to Ithaca. He’s never been here before, but he’s in good spirits. He and Ali are already in a rhythm, laughing and chatting like the old friends they are. I’m glad to see them happy together. Ali has It’s Only a Paper Moon playing over the sound system, which is another one of John Wendell’s favorites. She must have been thinking about him when she picked today’s music. The place feels warm and cheerful. The lake looks beautiful out back.
Roddy suggests I take Lady around the house and yard so she can see for herself everything is okay. I think that’s a great idea. I do as he suggests and she seems appreciative. We walk the same path we did the day the movers were here-- out the back door onto the deck, across the deck and down the wooden stairs to the carriage house, around the perimeter of the yard, back up the wooden steps to the deck and inside, up the interior stairs to the top floor, and then finally down to the basement. She starts to get tired part way through, so I cradle her gently in my arms and carry her. No one else sees. I set her down again on the main level when we’re done with the basement and she toddles lightly to the mat Ali placed in front of the loveseat for her. Taye and Marjorie sit down on the seat above our girl and welcome her with words of encouragement as the rest of us settle into comfortable spots of our own in the living room. The boys are seated on the couch directly opposite Lady. I assume she likes this positioning so she can keep her eyes on them while she rests.
We sit together and talk while more of John Wendell’s favorite music cycles through the playlist Ali set up. Nat King Cole sings L-O-V-E as we enjoy the lakefront views and catch Taye up on the details of our lives. Ali has already told him most of it, but it seems appropriate to give him an overview in order to be sure he’s up to speed. Liam glances at me when my job at Cornell comes up, but I don’t say anything other than what has already been established. It’s been years since Taye has seen Marjorie and Roddy, so they tell him all about the concerts and plays they’ve been involved with since. Roddy mentions to Taye that he should bring Malcolm to the City to see one of his plays sometime. Marjorie
says she can get them tickets to a Philharmonic concert as well. They might as well make a weekend of it, she says. Ali suggests Taye and Malcolm go ahead and stay at Roddy and Marjorie’s brownstone while they’re in town. Her parents have plenty of room for guests and they like to entertain. Everyone agrees that would be lovely. There are so many connections to be made here. So much fun to be had. It feels good to talk about the future. Ethan and Leo look through a stack of children’s books as the adults talk. Sometimes they like to be nearby and listen without actively participating in the conversation. I get it.
When it’s time for lunch, Marjorie and Roddy whip us up gourmet ham and turkey sandwiches with homemade chips, salads, and tomato basil soup on the side. We drink more of the wine Liam picked up from Seneca Lake and savor every sip. It’s amazing how having a guest can lighten the mood and make everything feel festive and hopeful. We tell Taye he should come back again soon and bring Malcolm. We tell him we want him to see Mom and John Wendell and to meet Duke next time. He knows Jen, but hasn’t been officially introduced to Duke.
After lunch, both boys go down for a nap and the rest of us sit around the kitchen table to talk business. Taye took a look around our property when he first arrived and has some preliminary suggestions for us. As it turns out, we’re in pretty good shape for the short term. Taye says the local security company the police department recommended did a good job. He wants to do a more in-depth assessment before he leaves this evening and then will get back to us within a couple of weeks with options for the highest level of protection possible. He assures us we’ll be safe in the meantime. We’re all really glad to hear it. I can see my wife’s face soften and her demeanor lighten as Taye reassures us. Roddy notices as well and gives me a wink across the table. Ali’s peace of mind is so important.
With that taken care of, Liam and I decide to head out a little early in order to stop by the police department on our way to my appointment with Dr. Epstein. I know Ali and the boys and Lady are in good hands, so I might as well see what else I can accomplish today. I want to check in with the detectives handling our case to find out whether or not they have any new leads. I have a feeling they won’t, unfortunately, but I want to get in front of them as often as possible so they don’t forget about us. I don’t mean to harass them. I understand the limitations they have to work with. I’m not expecting any miracles. I just want their best efforts in identifying the intruder and locating the getaway driver.
When we get there, Liam goes inside the station with me and stays close. He’s probably afraid I’ll throw someone against a wall if I don’t like what they have to say. Luckily, I’m not feeling much like tossing anyone around this afternoon. I suppose I shouldn’t rule out the possibility since my anger seems to go from zero to sixty faster than a sports car these days, but so far, I haven’t been angry at the police. I guess I see them for what they are. They’re a bunch of well-intentioned human beings working with inadequate resources. I’d rather start the business or invent the thing that solves problems for them rather than raking them over the coals when they’re doing their best.
Duke is out of the office for the afternoon, so we don’t get to see him this visit. We do get the opportunity to speak to the lead detective handling the case though. Just as I suspected, there’s not much new to report. They’re still waiting on results from the forensics lab, but so far haven’t been able to identify the deceased individual. I don’t tell the detective I’m doing my own research on the side. I’ll tell him about it later if I find something solid, but for now, I’ll keep that bit of information to myself. The police department doesn’t have any leads on the getaway driver either. They say they’re working on a few solid theories which might pan out, but no news yet. I can’t help but think about what a different story this would be if Liam and I had our UAV service up and running. Someday we will. We thank the detective and say our goodbyes. It’s time to head over to the Odyssey Psychology Center for a little odyssey action of my own. I’m ready.
10
Wounds to Be Healed
I’ve never been a big believer in fate or predetermination, but I suspect something like it may be at work in my life right now. I feel pulled towards an inevitable outcome. A purpose that’s been formed beforehand. The very universe feels in flux and there’s a churn just below the level of what my five senses can perceive. Maybe the churn has always been there and I haven’t been tuned in. Ever since the dream where I communicated with Dad, I feel fundamentally different. Truth be told though, I was feeling a nagging and an aching to be different even before then. I had no idea how change was going to come to fruition or whether or not it even should. Whatever the mechanisms and the reasons, I think I’m changing to becoming more and more of myself. Maybe I’ll get better at explaining the whole thing as I settle into my new reality.
We park the car in the back and I walk with my uncle around the outside of the psychology center to the charming covered front porch. I tell him about the summertime fat cat I envision schmoozing with people as they enjoy the sunshine and warm weather. He tells me he agrees that the porch is especially charming. A great place to sip some of that Seneca Lake wine he’s become fond of. We step through the white wooden screened door and then the heavy black metal door, appreciating the little twinkling lights and the cheer they provide on this cold winter day.
Right here and right now, something significant is happening. I know it the same as I did the night I woke up suddenly and then heard my son scream. The hair on the back of my neck stands straight up as this knowing settles over me. I feel certain Ali and the boys are okay at home for some reason, so even though it would make sense to check in with them I don’t. This is about something else. Perhaps multiple somethings else. I take a deep breath and steel myself for whatever is coming as Liam and I settle into the soft chairs in Dr. Epstein’s waiting room. Now that I’ve been inside his little office, I know the buzzer attached to the front door will alert him that someone has entered the building. I fiddle with one of the seams on the arm of the chair I’m sitting in while we wait for Dr. E to plod out and greet us.
Liam has his e-reader in hand and is happily cueing up his novel. One of his arms hangs loosely over the side of his chair and he places one ankle up on the opposite knee in a relaxed pose I find myself envying. I’m starting to feel wound and bound, unsure of how to hold my body. Liam gives me a quizzical look and I wonder how much of my discomfort he notices. I’m safe showing all of this to Liam, but it’s still embarrassing. I don’t want to be a mess.
“Dr. George Hartmann?” we hear Dr. Epstein bellow before we see him emerge from the long hallway in the back of the building. He doesn’t know Liam is here. I hope he doesn’t mind me bringing him along. I stand and prepare myself for the force of nature that is Dr. Joseph Epstein as Liam begins to move leisurely to stand. He’s not feeling any urgency or sense of formality. I wonder if he’s ever been to therapy before.
“Hello, yes, it’s me, Dr. Epstein,” I say feebly, my voice already beginning to falter.
“I see you brought someone with you,” Dr. Epstein says while crossing his arms over his chest in front of him, leaning back a bit, and looking my uncle up and down with what I’m learning is his trademark intensity. Liam is unphased.
“This is my Uncle Liam,” I reply. “I asked him to be here today. He’s my closest friend and confidant, and it’s been a rough twenty-four hours since I left here yesterday.”
“Say no more,” Dr. Epstein offers as he reaches out to shake Liam’s hand and offers him a welcoming smile. “George, would you like your uncle to come back to my office with us for your session? Or should he remain here in the lobby?”
“Either is okay,” I reply.
“It’s up to you,” Dr. Epstein says. “This is your process. What feels best in this moment?”
“I actually would like Liam to be with me,” I say as I turn to look at my uncle. “Liam, do you mind coming back with us? Can your book wait?”
“Of course, George. Whatever you need,” Liam says.
“Very well,” Dr. Epstein says. “Follow me, boys.”
The doc seems noticeably softer around the edges today. Maybe this is him displaying compassion since he saw what a mess I was yesterday. Or maybe he’s simply more comfortable with me. Or maybe I’m more comfortable with him and already oriented such that the whole setting feels a little friendlier and less intimidating. My stomach is in knots again though. It’s hard to say exactly why.
We follow Dr. Epstein down the long hall to his little office, past the closed doors along the way. Just like yesterday, some rooms are dark while others are dimly lit but with privacy glass which obscures the view of what’s happening inside. I look hard at the hypnotherapy room as I go by now that I know which one it is. The lights are turned out and it’s too dark to really tell anything. I am definitely curious about it. I haven’t had a chance to call Jen and ask more questions yet. I’d love to compare notes now that I’ve met Dr. Epstein and been in his office space. I’ll have to reach out to her soon.
“Come on in,” Dr. E says when we arrive at his little room. “Make yourself comfortable. Sit anywhere you like.”
Liam nods to thank Dr. Epstein as he walks inside and plops down on one end of the leather couch. There are a couple of other chairs, but the couch looks most inviting. I sit on the other end and do my best to appear composed as the doc gets his clipboard ready.
“Hey, George,” Liam says, gesturing towards a red and white quilt folded over the back of a wingback chair. The red sections are a mix of a solid base and various floral prints together comprising a large sawtooth star pattern. “That looks a lot like the quilts your mom used to sew in the eighties when you were a kid. Do you remember?”
“I do,” I reply. “She made them for family and friends. I think we all have at least one or two of her works of art. They’re beautiful.”