Come Back To Me (8 page)

“It was all in the plan, my friend,” he joked.

The bike path intersected another and Tess turned quickly, leaving Louie to stop and turn around in order to follow her. Tess wasn’t thinking of Louie at that moment. She peddled faster as the dirt path turned to pavement, pushing herself to gain speed up the small incline that led to the cemetery. Her heart thumped against her chest, not from the effort she exerted, but from the thoughts that reeled through her mind like a tornado. She rode around the outer path, staring into the sea of headstones, oblivious to the flush that covered her cheeks. A green canopy came into view, interrupting the cemetery like a sore thumb. She slowed her bike, coming to a stop behind a large oak tree.

Tess leaned her bike against the tree and then pushed herself against the rough bark, peering like a child around the girth of its trunk. Mourners stood in a small group, huddled close together, leaning on one another for support. Tess recognized Carol and Robert, standing before the newly-planted headstone. The lack of a casket glared like a missing tooth. At six feet three inches tall, Kevin was usually difficult to miss, though on this day his stooped shoulders made him more difficult to distinguish.

Tess heard the rattling of Louie’s bike being positioned next to hers, Louie’s footsteps behind her. Her body tensed. She remained focused on the group in front of her. She shifted her stance to the right to get a better look at the woman who stood next to Kevin. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a tight bun at the base of her neck, her clothing looser than normal, but there was something in the woman’s stance that was undeniable.
Alice?
Tess’s hand covered her mouth.
How could she?

“Tess?” Louie whispered, putting his hand across her lower back.

Tess shrugged him off, turned away, tears stinging her eyes.

“Do you want to go?” he asked kindly.

Tess shook her head, her shoulders curled inward.

Louie watched her from behind, feeling inadequate. Quiet sounds of hidden sobs filled the air around them. Louie waited patiently.

“Tess?” he moved toward her.

“I’m okay,” she said. “It’s—”

“Beau?” he said thoughtfully.

She nodded and turned toward him, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be,” he said. He knew why she hadn’t attended the memorial, at least he thought he did. Tess hadn’t told him much, but she’d alluded to the fact that she didn’t think Beau was really dead. Louie knew all too well that there wasn’t much anyone could do to help her accept the truth. He stood before her, awkward in his unsure stance, his curls poking out randomly from the properly-fit bike helmet, his shirt wet with sweat, and his heart heavy.

Tess watched his chest rise and fall with each breath. She focused on the movement of his clinging t-shirt. It was easier than focusing on the ceremony that had progressed to hugs and milling attendees one hundred feet before her. Without moving her eyes from the sweat stain between his pectoral muscles, she said, trancelike, “We’d better go.” She made no move to leave.

Louie recognized the stillness in her. He swallowed his own memories, took her gently by the elbow, and led her to her bike. She grabbed the handlebars with both hands and pushed the bike back down the path toward Rock Creek Park.

“Are you okay?” Louie followed Tess down the path. When she didn’t answer, he said, “Why don’t we turn back and head towards home?”

Tess shook her head. When they reached the bottom of the hill, she climbed onto her bike, straightened her t-shirt, and said, “Let’s keep going.”

The ride to the zoo was swift and uneventful. The fresh air whipped against Tess’s skin. She breathed it in, shedding her sadness with each exhalation, pulling herself together, reminding herself that Beau wasn’t really gone. She tucked her thoughts of Beau away in some imaginary treasure chest within her mind, knowing she could retrieve them with a thought. She was not going to torture Louie, who at this point felt like her only friend, with her angst of her in-laws, Kevin, and Alice.
Alice!
The thought of her at the memorial made Tess’s stomach burn. She took several deep breaths and thanked God that Louie was now riding ahead of her, unable to see her face.

They hopped off their bikes and chained them to an empty bike rack at the end of the parking lot. The National Zoo had been one of Tess’s favorite places when she was a child. She’d been there only a handful of times in her life, each one better than the last. As she and Louie walked up the path toward the giraffes and elephants, the scent of manure recalled a childhood memory. She and her mother had been waiting long hours for the elephant’s feeding time. Her mother had pleaded with her to see other animals until the scheduled event, but she’d have no part of leaving. She had been a pixie of a girl, with paper-thin arms and legs, pale skin, and a mind as stubborn as a full-grown bull. She longed to hear her mother’s voice just one more time.

“What are you thinking about?” Louie asked. “You were smiling, just then.”

Tess shook her head.

“If this is too difficult, we can go,” he offered.

“I’m fine.” Tess looked up at the sky, as if watching a scene unfold in the clouds. She waved her hand through the air. “They have a need for closure,” she explained. “It’s okay. It’s what they need. I was just surprised to see Alice, that’s all.”

Louie understood the feelings of betrayal. He also understood Alice’s need to say goodbye.

The crisp afternoon turned into a brisk evening. Louie and Tess stood in her front yard, the leaves of the weeping willow whispering in the breeze.

“How about that gorilla?” Louie laughed.

Tess rolled her eyes. “He was nasty.”

“No, just horny.”

“Whatever.” She swatted his arm. “You men are all alike,” she laughed.

“Aren’t you going to ask me about getting my business?” Louie asked in a serious tone.

“No,” Tess said.

“Why not?” he asked.

Tess shrugged. She’d picked up a number of new clients in the past few weeks and knew that when Louie was ready, he’d work with her. Until then, she needed his friendship more than his money.

“Do you want to talk about today?” He kicked the ground, contemplating the afternoon. His own painful memories rushed forward.

“Not really,” she said with an edge.

Relieved, he said, “Okay. I just thought—”

“I know,” she said with a sigh. “Everyone thinks I need to talk about it, talk about Beau. But you know what? I don’t. I’m okay with him being away. I know he’ll come back. I know he’s not gone.” She stood and paced.

“Tess, it’s okay to grieve. You don’t have to be strong.”

“I’m not being strong,” she said heatedly. “He’s not gone!” her words were accusatory. “Why does everyone feel the need to make me talk about him?” Her body began to tremble.

Louie turned her shoulders gently toward him. “No one can make you do anything. I just thought you might want someone to listen.” He brushed a few strands of hair from her forehead.

She shrugged him off.

“You don’t have to get mad,” he said. “I’m trying to be a friend, that’s all.”

“Well, maybe I don’t need that kind of friend,” she dug in her purse for her keys.

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to upset you.” He tipped her quivering chin upward. “I’m sorry.”

Tess trembled like a frightened bird. She’d been strong for so long that she’d forgotten what it was like to be taken care of. Loneliness seeped from her pores. Louie put his arms around her, his breath on her cheeks. Heat spread up her chest. His eyes washed over her, comforting, wanting. She pressed her body against his, her mind cautioning her every move. He lowered his lips to hers. Salty tears slipped between them, the smell of sweat, the feel of his tense muscles, drew her in. Guilt engulfed her, pulling her back from him, fighting her desire. The minty taste of him lingered on her tongue. Tess unlocked the front door and stepped inside. Without uttering a word, she closed it behind her.

“Vogue” rang out from across the threshold, a barrier between them.

Chapter Nine

The man came in the night, as silent as the moon swept across the evening sky. He gave Suha directions for their departure and assured her that he’d be traveling with them. They were to leave the next evening.

He’d charted a course outside the red zone that would take them to the next underground safe zone, where, he assured Suha, they’d be taken care of along with other families that were being housed there. Soldiers who were party to the underground process would transport them to a location where they’d receive new identities and visas and be taken out of the country. The man, who called himself Abdul Hadi, or Servant of the Guide, was swathed in fabric, his long, unkempt beard, more gray than black, poked out from the scarf he’d wrapped around his head. His face was weathered, his hands thick and dry.

Abdul Hadi’s loose brown pants and soiled button-down shirt looked as though he’d been sleeping in them for weeks. His heavy boots must have been hell to wear, trekking through the desert sand. Beau watched the man like a hawk, trying to translate his conversation with Suha, but falling too far behind to follow.

The man’s eyes shifted to Beau several times as he spoke. Beau could tell from Suha’s expression that the man was not happy with his presence. Abdul Hadi hunched as he spoke, the fabric of his wrap moving with each forceful expression. Beau tensed, fearing the worst. This went on until the sun began to rise, and eventually, Suha rose too, standing before Beau with a bowed head.

“Jameel,” she said, “Abdul Hadi, he worries. You put us in danger.”

Beau clenched his teeth. She was right. With Beau, they were harboring an American. Without him, they were merely traveling Iraqis, not easily explained, but easier than explaining their allegiance to him. He looked down, unsure of what to do or say.

Suha turned back to Abdul Hadi, speaking rapidly in her native tongue. She stood with her back to Beau, a protective shield between him and the stranger.

Abdul Hadi ran his eyes up and down Beau’s body.

Beau pulled his shoulders back, raised his chin, and looked the man in the eye.

The man spoke in slow, clipped English, “You come with us. You become one of us.”

Beau nodded, unsure of what he meant.

Suha placed her hand on his arm with a nod. The hint of a smile crossed her lips.

Suha packed supplies while Samira and the children slept, unaware of their pending upheaval. Beau did as the man directed, tying bundles of blankets and bed linens around utensils. They were to leave nothing behind. The man shed his outer wrap and handed it roughly to Beau.

“You wear this,” Suha explained.

Suha nodded toward the man’s bag, indicating the change of clothes Beau would be wearing, a concession that the man had not planned.

The children awoke, frightened, at first, of the strange man who had come in the night. Zeid watched the Iraqi man with interest, as if deciding if he were friend or foe. He whispered sharp comments in Abdul Hadi’s direction. Samira snapped at him, lowering her eyes and apologizing to Abdul Hadi, who disregarded her concern.

Beau took offense to his disrespect of Samira, but said nothing, afraid of the trouble his reaction might bring. Instead, he stayed near Samira and the children.

They waited until the sun made its arc over the desert and descended toward the dark sand. Athra made nary a sound all afternoon, nestled into her mother’s side, thumb planted in her mouth like a never-ending lollipop.

Edham listened carefully to all that was said. The skin between his thick eyebrows tense, his dark eyes watchful of the man’s every move. When Beau passed by him, Edham reached up, his fingers trailing along Beau’s arm, as if he were making sure Beau were really there.

Beau smiled, tussled his hair.

Abdul Hadi spoke in harsh tones.

The hair on the back of Beau’s neck stood on end. He pulled Suha aside, “Is there a problem?”

Suha pulled him further away, whispering, “As part of the underground movement to save women from honor killings, they must remain emotionally unattached. Doing so allows greater strength and concentration.” She took Beau further from the children and Samira, to the opening of the tent, and leaned close to his ear. “Some women would not make it out of Iraq safely,” she explained, a risk she was willing to take.

Beau glanced at Samira and the children. His eyes locked with Suha’s, as they stood on the edge of an unspoken understanding. He knew he would do whatever it took to keep Suha and Samira safe. They’d saved him, and he’d do the same in return.

Maryland

Resentment raced through Tess like a river. She sat behind her desk tapping her foot against the floor, a scowl fixed across her face. She waited for Alice to arrive. She’d spent the night tossing and turning, beating herself up over kissing Louie, and finally decided that it was Alice she was angry at, not herself.

Alice breezed through the door with a smile. “What on earth are you doing here so early?” she asked and put a steaming cup of coffee on Tess’s desk.

Tess pretended to be engrossed in a file, her silent fury unnoticed.

“New client?” Alice asked.

Tess stomped into the conference room, feeling completely inadequate at handling her inner tumult. Alice followed.

“Something I can do?”

Tess turned to face her, calm and stoic, “Yes. Stay away from me,”
before I fire you.
She turned and walked away.

“What? Tess?” Alice rushed after Tess, “What’s going on?”

“How could you?” Tess choked out.

“Oh, this is about the memorial?” Alice set the files she’d been carrying down on the table and put her hand on her hip. “Just because you can’t say goodbye doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t.” She sighed, “What am I supposed to do, pretend Beau’s coming back?” She knew it was a mistake the second the words flew from her lips.

Tess stormed out of the room.

Alice followed. “Wait. I didn’t mean it like that. Tess, please!”

“He’s my husband!” Tess said between clenched teeth.

“Yeah, and he’s Robert and Carol’s son, and Kevin’s best friend,” she stared into Tess’s eyes, unwilling to relent. “Tess, he’s gone. It’s been months. He’s not coming back.”

“Don’t say—”

“What, Tess, don’t say the truth? You know he’s not coming back. I know you love him, we all know you love him. We know how much you hurt—”

“I can’t listen to this,” Tess covered her face and threw herself onto the couch in her office. “Please, just go away.”

Alice sat next to her, her back straight. “No, I won’t go away. This isn’t going to go away. You have to deal with it.”

Tears streamed down Tess’s cheeks.

“I know it’s hard. I know it hurts. Beau loved you more than life itself, you know that.”

“Leave me alone,” Tess spat, her face red, eyes swollen. “Please,” she pleaded.

Alice shook her head. “No, Tess. No one else will stand up to you. You have to move on. You have to live your life.” Tess looked at Alice with such sadness that Alice almost backed down.

“What do you want from me, Alice? I’m working, I’m even biking again. Why isn’t that enough for you?”

“It’s not enough for you, Tess. This isn’t about me,” Alice said gently.

Tess stared at the floor.

Alice rested her hand on Tess’s arm. “It sucks, Tess. I know it does.”

Tess shook her off and rose to her feet. “You don’t know, Alice,” she spat. “You’ve never loved anyone. You’ve never breathed the same breath of a man, day after day, thinking the same thoughts, wanting the same things, wanting to touch him, to hold him, to—”

“You’re right. I haven’t. But I have a friend who is grieving. I have two.”

Tess squinted at her, the realization of Alice’s friendship with Kevin coming clear.

“And the hurt that I see in them, that’s real. I may not feel the same hurt, or have felt the same love, but I’m not a cold fish, Tess. I know it hurts.”

Tess took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Alice went to the credenza and pulled out their secret stash—the celebratory bottle, saved for their largest sales. Today it would serve as a sanity saver. She poured a vodka tonic with a dash of lime for Tess, and one for herself, then sat down next to her on the couch.

Tess pushed the drink away.

“Come on, Tess. It’ll ease the pain.”

Tess shook her head. “I’m pregnant.”
Where the hell did that come from?
She stared at the drink, longing for the liquid relief. Silence stretched between them as a weight Tess hadn’t realized she’d been carrying lifted from her shoulders. “What am I going to do?”

Alice forced her slack jaw closed. “You’re what?” Before Tess could reiterate, she said, “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out.”

Two hours later Alice was tipsy, Tess, relieved. Each lay at one end of the couch, shoes kicked off.

“What do you see in him?” Tess asked.

“Kevin? I don’t know if I see anything in him. I mean, it’s not like we’re dating or anything. God, that would be weird.”

“But you hooked up with him?” Tess asked.

Alice laughed, rolling onto her side and almost falling off of the couch, “In his dreams! We had drinks a few times. He wants to see me and a few chicks going at it,” she smirked.

“What? Is there something I should know?” Tess laughed.

“No!”

“C’mon, you can tell me,” Tess egged her on.

Alice pulled herself up to sitting position, swayed, then held onto the side of the couch for stability. “Don’t you think he’s hot?”

“Kevin?” Tess laughed. “Cute maybe, hot? I don’t know. He’s not my type.”

Alice ran her finger up Tess’s foot, tickling her, “Oh yeah, those short ones, those are your type!” she roared with laughter.

Tess froze.

Alice stifled her laugh, “What? You have to admit, Beau’s pretty shor—” Her jaw dropped open. “No!”

Tess sat up.

“Oh, my God! What’d you do?”

Tess turned away, her cheeks burning.

“Whose baby is this? Oh, my God,” worry filled her eyes.

“Beau’s! Jesus, Alice.”

Alice waved the thought away, “Sorry.” She pointed to the bottle that lay on the floor, “It’s that’s fault. I didn’t think…”

Tess stood and tripped, landing on her butt. They both burst into hysterics.

The front door of the office creaked open. Louie’s voice sailed through Tess’s open door, “Hello?”

“Oh, shit!” Tess scrambled to get off the floor.

Alice scooped up the bottle and the glasses. She hung onto Tess’s arm and whispered, “Quiet, he’ll hear us.” They laughed.

“Too late.” Louie stood in the doorway wearing jeans and a gray long-sleeved shirt that read, “Just do it” across the chest.

Alice hurried past him. “How
à propos
,” she giggled.

“What was that about?” he asked Tess.

Tess held on to the end of her desk and lowered herself into a leather chair, waving the comment away with her hand.

“Did I interrupt something? A celebration?” he looked at his watch. “Well, it is eleven-forty,” he joked. “Happy hour?”

Tess flushed. “We don’t usually do this. It was a rough morning.”

“I can come back,” Louie offered.

“Why are you here?” she asked, brazenly.

Louie sat down across from Tess. He rubbed his hands nervously down his thighs. “I just thought, after last night, we should talk.”

Butterflies swept through Tess’s stomach. She swatted the air again, “Oh, that. That was nothing.”

“Nothing?” Louie asked.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. It shouldn’t have happened. Just forget it.” She leaned back in her chair.

Louie looked confused, “Oh, okay.” He hesitated then rose. “I guess I’ll be going, then.”

Tess pretended to be busy with the files on her desk.

“Okay, then,” he turned and walked out the door.

When the front door closed, Tess dropped her head onto her desk with a thud.
What the hell am I doing?

The front door echoed against the headache that Tess had earned. She dropped her purse and flopped onto the couch. The
ding
of a Skype notification rang out from the den. Tess was on her feet in seconds, plucking away at the keyboard. A solicitous message from SkypeMarketing appeared. Tess closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. She made her way back to the couch, closing the door to the den behind her.

Iraq

The red night sky brought a chill to the desert. A sandstorm had come without warning, delaying the anxious group’s departure for another twenty-four hours. They unpacked enough supplies to prepare canned beans for dinner and unrolled their bedrolls. Abdul Hadi ate in silence, watchful of Beau and ignoring the women and children.

Beau did not sleep during the night. Unease kept him alert and fearful. He watched the hulk of Abdul Hadi’s body as it moved up and down with each slumbering breath and wondered what the journey might bring.

Athra made a soft, cooing sound in the dark.

Beau worried how the children would fare on the trek across the desert. He reached for the photo of Tess, bringing it close to his face. He was unable to make out her fine features in the dark.

“I’m coming,” he whispered.

In the darkness, Samira listened.

Morning brought anxiety. The children’s discomfort came in drones of whines. Edham followed his mother asking question after question. Beau took Edham aside and together they walked a short distance. Beau’s leg ached. Edham chattered beside him. Ten minutes later, Edham’s questions had run out, and though Beau could not understand the Arabic he spoke, he’d smiled and rested his hand on the boy’s shoulder, calming him. They returned to the tent where Zeid stewed. The cold stare Zeid aimed at Abdul Hadi would unnerve even the toughest adult. Abdul Hadi began glaring back.

Beau tried to distract Zeid, enticing him with rocks and drawing games. Zeid would have no part of it. He remained disgruntled, angry toward the stranger who was there to help him.