Come Back To Me (4 page)

Kevin wanted to argue the point, to make her see that Beau was really gone, but Beau had once likened arguing with Tess to arguing with a bull while you were wearing red—she wouldn’t back down.

Tess paced the living room while Kevin went to straighten up the den. He folded the blankets that were heaped together and peeked back at Tess. He quickly clicked on the Skype Communication History and a new window opened. One line was duplicated all the way down the page and for several additional pages:
Call to: BethesdaShooter, no answer
. Kevin checked the dates and times of the communication attempts. Although it had been four weeks since Beau’s disappearance, Tess’s calls to Beau hadn’t diminished in frequency.  Tess was far worse off than he’d thought. 

“Tess?” Kevin stood beside the answering machine.

She turned from her perch on the couch.

“You have twenty-two new messages. Don’t you think we should check those?” he asked.

Tess shrugged.

“Want me to take it into another room and check them, just in case there’s something important?”

Tess shrugged.

“Have you talked to Alice lately?” he asked.

Tess shook her head.

Kevin carried the answering machine into the den and shut the door, bracing himself for what was likely to be a barrage of sympathy calls. Besides several calls from Beau’s parents and Alice, they were mostly sympathy calls from friends and Beau’s clients, interspersed with a handful of solicitations. Mr. Fulan had called several times.

Kevin returned to an empty living room. He found Tess upstairs, curled up on her bed.

“Tess?”

She didn’t respond.

He sat next to her on the bed.

Tess closed her eyes and let her body relax.

“Do you need to talk to somebody?”

Tess shook her head.

“Okay, but if you change your mind, I’m here.”

She fell asleep almost instantly.

While Tess slept, Kevin returned the phone calls. He was glad to have a moment to himself. He hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to appear strong for Tess. He clenched his eyes against the tears that had been waiting to fall and took a deep breath. He’d purposely saved the call to Alice for last.  He had known Alice for as many years as he’d known Tess, surely she’d know what to do to pull Tess out of her depression. As he dialed her number, he thought of her lean physique, her blond hair that he’d so often wanted to touch. If it weren’t for her holier-than-thou persona, he might have even tried. His purposeful glances had always gone unnoticed, and flirting? He wasn’t sure Alice was even capable of such a thing. In fact, he wondered if she were asexual. Alice may have all the warmth of a cold fish, but Tess needed help, and who knew Tess better than Alice?

“No coasters?” Tess was worse off than Alice had feared. The Skype records were a bit obsessive, but she’d seen Tess’s relentless ability to track down anyone and anything first hand, working side-by-side. She could not be dissuaded by a stern secretary or evasive assistant, and never walked away from a potential new client. She always reached her prey. This time her prey was Beau. Tess may be in denial, but wouldn’t most wives be if their husband’s body was never found? Alice was sure Tess could work through those feelings with some help. The messy house was out of the ordinary, and she didn’t blame Tess for not answering the phone or opening her mail. After all, her entire life had just been turned upside down. It was the lack of coasters that sent red warnings flashing before Alice. At first, she’d thought Tess’s compulsive need for coasters was driven by her love of collecting them. She’d since learned that she’d had it backwards; Tess’s collection was driven by her obsession, a compulsive need to have coasters used at all times. Alice was sure it was a control issue, but who was she to judge? Tess’s coaster rule had become second nature for Alice. She’d bring a client coffee in one hand, and a coaster would surely be in the other. She kept a stack of them in each room of their office, and had even gotten used to using them in her own home. The lack of coasters, to Alice, indicated that this was far more than simply denial. She needed to assess Tess with her own two eyes.

To anyone else, Kevin’s soft blond hair and hazel eyes coupled with his sweet demeanor might qualify him as handsome—a good catch even—but to Alice, he was just Kevin. Although, she had to admit, it had been ages since she’d felt a spark of anything other than disdain for any man. Men had one purpose in her life, and beyond that, they were simply bodies that took up air and space.

“Hey, Kev,” she smiled and walked past him, surveying Tess’s house. “Wow, the place looks great. I assume this is thanks to you,” she said.

Kevin felt better the moment she walked in the door. Not having to shoulder the burden alone was reassuring. “I straightened up.” He pointed upstairs. “She’s sleeping.”

Alice nodded and checked her watch, 8:17 P.M. “Well, it’s not exactly bedtime. Let’s wake her up and get her back on track.”

“Do you think we should? She’s not exactly doing well.”

“I’d imagine she’s not,” Alice said, matter-of-factly. “And how are you doing? He was your best friend,” she said kindly.

“Good. I’m good,” he walked to the bottom of the stairs. “I miss him. I mean, every time I read my email, I look for one from him, but I think that will fade once they have the funeral. Closure, you know?”

Alice nodded. “That’s exactly what I think is going on with Tess. Imagine suddenly losing the one person you’ve woken up to for years, the person you confided in. I can’t imagine,” she said, hoping she was convincing. The truth was Alice couldn’t imagine wanting to spend all that much time with anyone.

Kevin swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He followed Alice upstairs. Tess looked like a teenager, curled around Beau’s pillow and wearing his shirt.

Alice walked over to the bed and crouched down. “Tess, honey, wake up.”

Tess curled more tightly around the pillow.

Alice shook Tess’s shoulder, “Tess? Come on, time to get up.”

Tess’s eyes slowly opened.
Alice?
She turned her head and saw Kevin standing at the foot of her bed. She sat up, wanting nothing more than to lie back down and go to sleep.

“You okay?” Kevin asked. “I asked Alice to come over, in case you wanted to talk.”

Tess nodded.

“Tess, you need to get up,” Alice said, as a mother might instruct a child. “It’s only eight, not bedtime. C’mon.” She tried to lift Tess to her feet, but Tess’s body went limp.

“I don’t want to get up,” Tess said quietly.

“You have to. C’mon, you have to get back to your life now. We’ll help you. Let’s go,” Alice’s voice left no room for negotiation.

Kevin held Tess under one arm and Alice held the other. Together, they lifted her to her feet.

“I can stand,” Tess shrugged them off. “I just don’t
want
to.”

“We know,” Alice said, “but you have to. Now c’mon, let’s get you showered and back in the real world.” She guided Tess toward the bathroom, and looked over her shoulder at Kevin, nodding toward the bed.

Kevin took the hint and made the bed.

Alice came out of the bathroom giving more orders. “Good job, Kevin. Can you go downstairs and order some food? I don’t think she’s eaten in forever. I’ll get her dressed and be right down.”

Kevin left the bedroom, again thankful that Alice was taking control. Chores he could handle, but women, well, they had a full range of unpredictable emotions with which he would rather not tangle.

Tess poked at the sesame chicken and rice. She was cleaner than she’d been in weeks, and so, felt more awake. The house was clean, and for that Tess was thankful. It had become overwhelmingly dirty and in such disarray that she couldn’t fathom the idea of mustering the energy to set it right.

“Thanks, you guys,” she said.

“That’s what we’re here for,” Alice said easily.

“Are you okay, Tess?” Kevin had asked her that a hundred times, but he didn’t know what else to ask. That’s what he wanted to know. Was she okay? Would she be able to break out of this lost place she’d found?

Tess nodded, “Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Of course she’s okay!” Alice said, as if by not paying attention to Tess’s pain it would not exist. “She just needs to find herself again, to get moving.” Alice put down her fork and looked at Tess; her cheeks had become hollow, her skin deathly pale. “Right, Tess?” she asked hopefully.

Tess nodded and forced down a few more bites. She leaned her chin in her palm and asked, “How do I do this?”

“Eat?” Alice joked.

Kevin gave her a disapproving look. She shrugged.

“No. This…life?” Tears slipped down her cheeks. “How do I do it without him?”

Kevin reached out and touched her arm.

“We’ll figure it out,” Alice said with surety, although she had no idea how to go about helping Tess, or if she should be the one to do it—but she’d sure as hell try. Whenever Alice had been in crisis, her mother would tell her to push through it (whatever
it
was) and make it happen, and that’s just how she’d help Tess. She’d push Tess through this awful situation.

After dinner, Alice washed the dishes while Kevin brought stacks of mail into the kitchen. Alice was secretly pleased when she noticed Tess inspecting the tabletops for water rings.

“Tess, I’m really sorry about Beau,” Alice watched Tess move from inspecting the coffee table to inspecting the kitchen counter.

“Oh, he’ll be okay,” Tess said as she settled onto a wooden chair.

Alice shot a look of concern to Kevin.

Tess caught the glance and cocked her head. The right side of her face showed a hint of a smile. “You know Beau, Kevin. He’ll be fine. He always is.”

Alice knelt before Tess. “Tess, Beau’s gone. You know that, right?”

Tess made a little laughing sound under her breath. “I
know
that.”

They sorted through the mail in silence. The drawn tightness that had pulled Tess’s features down had softened. Tess found two successive unpaid bills and hoped the electricity wouldn’t be turned off. Thankfully, her mortgage was taken directly from their checking account. She wished Beau were there. He always had the patience to deal with the bills. Tess hated the time it took to get online and make sure the payments were being made to the right companies. Too many times she’d paid her Sunoco bill to Sprint, and her Direct TV bill to Dr. Roberts. She took a stack of bills into the den.

Tess pulled her laptop onto her lap and realized that she’d been spending every evening in that exact position since Mr. Fulan had come to her house.
Mr. Fulan
. Just thinking about him brought the urge to hold her breath against his scent and made her stomach hurt. How could they tell her that Beau was dead if they didn’t even find his body? The Skype website greeted her, bright and welcoming. She clicked on BethesdaShooter, biting her lower lip and allowing hope to swell in her racing heart. The connection failed, and her shoulders dropped. “Oh, Beau,” she said quietly. “When are you coming back?” She rested her hand on her belly.

“Tess?” Kevin said from the doorway. He spotted the light blue screen and went to sit next to her.

Tess shrugged. “I thought he might be on.”

“Tess, Beau is dead. He can’t be—”

Tess interrupted, “Stop saying that! You don’t
know
. They never found him. Maybe he’s not…” She could not bring herself to say the word. How could she tell Kevin that she would know if Beau were gone? She’d feel it, like a dark abyss in her soul. She didn’t feel that emptiness. Beau’s presence still remained in her heart.

Iraq

The memory of twelve-year-old Samira, torn apart and bleeding between her legs on the night of her wedding, came rushing back to Suha. Her face reddened. She turned toward the injured man, her back to the children, and willed the images to leave her mind. Samira’s husband, the louse, had violated Samira roughly and left her in her marital bed to roam the streets with his particularly offensive friends, other adulterous men, looking for loose women to fill their insatiable sexual appetites. 

Suha had spent her younger years in fear of Iraqi men that were outside of her community, as her father, a well-respected physician, had warned her of the demeaning, discriminatory lifestyle some led and the all-too-often harsh treatments some women, Iraqi and otherwise, endured at their hands. He did not agree with the humiliating lifestyle enforced upon those ill-fated women. Suha knew this was a gross generalization, but she’d seen it far too many times to chance her own future.

Years of witnessing this disrespect and disregard had led Suha to realize that the kindness and generosity her father displayed toward women was rare. She thought her mother, Farrah, had been a very lucky woman indeed. She had been a joyful person. Suha had fond memories of her mother’s contagious smile, the way she’d touch her father’s shoulder, and the way he would look at her with adoring eyes. She remembered her mother’s long hair, let loose in the evening and combed all the way to the tips, which fell just below her waist. She used to long to be just like her and was disappointed in herself when she had become coarse, guarded. Her mother did not show that tension in the easy, loving way she spoke to Suha, and Suha felt the difference.

When she’d lost her mother to pneumonia at the tender age of seven, she’d had no time to mourn her loss. Her father had been devastated, taking to his room for the first month after her death. Suha had cared for him as best she knew how, and eventually he found his feet again. As the years progressed, she and her father became very close, sharing their time and discussing her father’s patients well into the evenings. Even as a young girl, Suha had understood the importance of her father’s profession and had longed to follow in his footsteps. She’d pored over his medical textbooks, asking in-depth questions that had caused her father to sometimes raise his eyebrows, but he took the time to answer, and his answers carried not just explanations, but lessons, as well.