by Kim Hornsby
The doctors and nurses had left the room to give them privacy. When Tina looked up, she saw her mother standing dumbfounded by the bed, staring at her. She glanced to the machine that, by now, had been turned off.
Her mother looked into Tina’s eyes, and shook her head. “He ate lunch yesterday in the conservatory, and told me how much he loved me, and how much he hoped you’d get back together with your boyfriend. He planned to play golf this summer.” She looked at her husband’s inert form on the bed. “Oh my God. This can’t be.” Her mother collapsed on her husband’s chest, pulling him into a desperate embrace. “Philip, no. Come back to me. I need you.”
Tina stood beside her mother, trying to understand that her dear father was gone. Never again would she hear his voice, laugh at one of his jokes, go to a football game with him.
Chapter 18
The funeral was small and tasteful. Filled with heavy sadness and tears. The sun shone brightly as Philip Greene’s casket was lowered into the ground. Wasn’t it supposed to rain for funerals? Tina would’ve preferred a stormy dark day to the robin’s egg blue sky and warm sun that reminded them life would go on, even without her father.
She’d been in a fog of loss, trying to make sense of her father’s death. It wasn’t easy to accept because everywhere she looked were reminders that he was a wonderful, vibrant man. The house was filled with pictures of him golfing, sailing, with Tina at her college graduation, photos of him and his lovely bride on their wedding day in a double frame with the photo of their fortieth wedding anniversary party. Whatever else she thought about her mother, Elizabeth Greene had loved her husband deeply and those feelings had been reciprocated. Nothing they went through ever changed that love. Throughout the loss of a child, the rebellion of the other child, and recently the knowledge that their daughter was being swindled by a con man, her parents had held tight to each other. Life dealt blows, but their love never wavered.
Tina walked arm in arm with her mother from the gravesite to the limo. Thoughts of Jamey dogged her. The last few days she’d been unable to banish his image, his voice, the feel of him, to the back of her mind. It was almost like Jamey was willingly pushing himself on her. There was something about the letter and her mother’s mission to banish Hank that still bothered her. As they stepped into the back of the limo she asked the final question to the puzzle. “When you told Hank that you knew about his criminal record, did you ever have a moment when you considered letting him stay with me if he proved to be a good husband, or the father of my baby?”
Elizabeth looked over at Tina like she’d been woken from a bad dream. “What? Oh.” She took a deep breath, let it out, and turned to face her daughter. “If I tell you what happened, I don’t want to risk losing you again.” Elizabeth looked pitiful.
“No chance of that happening now.” She took her mother’s bony hand. They settled into their seats, and Tina told the driver to take them home.
Her mother took another deep breath. “I contacted an investigator from California. At that point your father did not know about the note, or Hank’s record. I saw no need to involve him if the accusation was false. The investigator assured me that he would do all the talking, which I thought was much better for everyone. One night, I got a phone call from him. His name was Mr. Hughes. I took the call in the library so your father wouldn’t hear. Mr. Hughes told me that he’d spoken with Hank on the phone and told him that his wife’s parents were aware of his criminal record, that we were considering turning him in. In the meantime, if he stole anything, or hurt you in any way, we’d prosecute to the fullest extent. Mr. Hughes used the words ‘locked up and throw away the key.’”
Tina held her breath. “What did Hank say to that?” As if this wasn’t a difficult day enough, she braced herself for the next part.
“He asked us to reconsider. He told Mr. Hughes that he loved you, had given up that life, was going clean, I think he said. When the investigator reported the conversation to me, he said this type of denial was to be expected. He reminded me that Hank was a professional liar who’d swindled women out of hundreds of thousands of dollars. He and his accomplice, Nolan, had taken nearly two million dollars from various women over fifteen years. I didn’t really know Hank was going for the paintings until Mr. Hughes told me Hank targeted art collectors. Before going to Maui, he’d stolen a painting from a gallery owner in Fresno.” Her mother stared into her lap.
Tina finally took a deep, sad breath.
“After thinking about it, I had Mr. Hughes relay the information that I wanted Hank out of your life. Hank argued again saying that you two had been trying to have a baby together, and you might be pregnant.”
Tina’s voice caught in her throat. “Oh, no.”
Elizabeth reached for her daughter’s hand, scooted over closer, and continued. “I didn’t tell Dad because of his heart.” Her voice hitched on the last word. “Mr. Hughes then spoke to Noble, or Nolan, which was his real name. Nolan said that you were having morning sickness, but I didn’t believe him. I wasn’t convinced. You hadn’t said anything to us. That’s when I told your father. He was very upset at first, but in his calm way, he thought it out. When he talked to you on the phone, you sounded so in love with this character, he hung up in tears, wondering what to do.”
Tina remembered that phone call, her father asking about Hank, and if he treated his little girl well. At the time, she’d thought it was sweet her dad was so concerned.
“We told Mr. Hughes to relay the message that if Henry and Nolan skipped town with your money, or the paintings, the police would be waiting for them when their plane landed. Also, that everything was on hold while we considered what to do. If you got pregnant, we weren’t sure we wanted him out of your life.” She looked out the window at a man in a sandwich board advertising a mattress store. “Mr. Hughes spoke to Nolan again when Hank avoided our calls, and told him that we were watching them closely but wouldn’t act on anything, not yet.”
She looked at Tina, her face full of regret. “I wanted to believe that Hank loved you, and that you were happy with him. If you were pregnant, I couldn’t have turned him in, not as long as he made you happy. But, I would have insisted he tell you everything. Having a baby was, and is, very precious to me, and I did not want you to raise a child with a dangerous criminal in the house, or on your own.” She thought for a few beats. “It was a difficult decision but your father concluded we should fly over to talk to both of you after Hank told you everything. We hoped to see for ourselves that Hank had turned over a new leaf. If that was the case and you still wanted to be married to him, your father insisted he could try to clear up Hank’s priors. He said Hank might have to do some time in jail, but not much. I wanted very much to believe that there was a happily ever after for you and Hank. I did, Kristina.”
Tina nodded. Her head was heavy with the story and the strange new facts that filled in the last of the puzzle pieces.
“Then you called to say that Hank was missing. I’m so sorry I ever meddled. I’m so sorry.” She squeezed Tina’s hand.
Tina squeezed back. “I know, Mom.” The words did not come out easily. But, it was important to tell her mother that she understood even though hearing about secret conversations between her husband and a private investigator hired by her mother was jarring. And there was one difference between what her mother said, and what Tina had believed to be true. Noble had lied to Hank that day on the cliffs at Hobbit land. He told Hank they had to leave town, but in reality, the investigator had told Noble that Tina’s parents would wait and see if their daughter was pregnant.
Tina sat back in the limo and looked outside the window to a children’s playground. She had to believe that Hank wanted a child for reasons that didn’t involve him avoiding jail time. He’d been genuinely excited about being a father. He had.
They were almost home. Home, where Millie waited with a buffet luncheon for all the funeral goers. Although Millie was very upset over Tina’s dad’s death, she’d foreg
one the cemetery to arrange a luncheon. Soon people would arrive and Tina would have to pretend that her mother hadn’t just given her enough information to incriminate Noble as even more of a liar and a cheat than she already knew. That the man who she’d loved as a friend, who’d consoled her for months and finally shot himself, did not care about her. Not really.
As they turned onto the Greene’s street, Tina was sorry she forgave Noble at the last minute of his strange existence.
What about Jamey? He’d written a letter to try to save her from losing the house, the dive shop, and whatever bank account she might have. Maybe he knew about the paintings too. Suddenly Jamey’s motive seemed clear, like a fog had lifted and now worrying that Jamey might be with her out of some misguided sense of duty, seemed preposterous. He loved her. Always had. What Jamey did was because he didn’t want her life ruined.
She had to talk to Jamey. Tell him that she’d made a horrible mistake by blaming him for her husband’s death. She’d misinterpreted his presence in her life. How had she confused all this to make Jamey the problem? Hank and Noble were the bad guys. Not Jamey. Hank was given another chance, a chance that Noble stole. She hadn’t wanted to admit Hank’s guilt in all this in case her marriage seemed like even more of a sham.
What if Hank had been a murderer, like those con men you see on TV, the ones who kill their wives and skip town with the money? She had no idea what feeling Jamey got around Hank. It might have been so overpowering that he felt he had no recourse but to warn someone. Only once did she have a premonition like that. Just before her father died, the inevitability of his death eclipsed everything and she’d had to keep from dropping to the floor. Had it been similar?
The limo pulled into the driveway and the driver came around to open the door. The circular driveway was full of cars, the street too. She helped her mother step out from the low seat, and the two women walked arm in arm up the path to the front steps of the house.
The house was packed with people who’d come to pay their respects to a man well-loved in the Mercer Island community. Neighbors, business associates, people from the country club, all milled about, making small talk, sharing memories, having a bite to eat. Tina floated between groups, until she recognized her childhood friend across the room, Greg Peyton. He’d been her neighborhood buddy, the guy who lived next door her whole childhood. Greg was a pediatric plastic surgeon now, her mother had said. “Very successful.”
When Tina approached him, he looked appropriately somber and kissed her cheek. “So sorry, Tina. Your dad was my hero.”
Tears came to her eyes, because she knew this to be true. When Greg had teenage problems with his own father, he’d come next door to talk to her dad. “How are you, Greg?”
“Keeping busy between here and Taiwan.”
Tina had heard he led surgical teams to operate on orphans. “How often are you over there?”
A well-dressed woman moved in to Greg’s left with two plates of food. She smiled at Tina, one of those fake smiles that said, “I’m not really friendly?”
“This is my wife, Melanie,” Greg said as he took one of the plates.
The woman’s face became serious. “So sorry about your father. What a shock. Greg was very fond of him.”
Tina nodded and smiled at Greg and his wife, but the woman gave her such a bad feeling that Tina left the conversation shortly after. It wasn’t anything she said, just a feeling. Was this what Jamey felt when he encountered Hank? She doubted if Melanie was scheming to con her childhood friend, but she felt something that exposed a part of Melanie that was not easy to ignore. If Jamey’s feeling from Hank had been similar, or worse, Tina could see how he’d been tempted to interfere.
She slipped out of the room and into her father’s study, cell phone in hand. She punched in Jamey’s number and it went to message. She wouldn’t do this over the phone. Seeing him in person was the only way to say what she needed to say.
That night, when her mother went to bed, Tina advised she take a Xanax prescribed by her physician. “It’s been such a sad, strange day, Mom. Just take a pill and let yourself check out for a few hours.” If anyone knew how it felt to lose a husband, it was Tina.
Elizabeth took the pill, and Tina was relieved knowing her mother would be out for the night. After tucking her mother in to bed, she went downstairs where Millie was just finishing washing the dishes from the reception. “You must be exhausted, Millie.”
“Almost finished.” Millie looked over at Tina who was slipping on her jacket. “You look tired too.”
Over a hundred people had come and gone over the afternoon, and Tina believed that she’d spoken to each person individually about what a wonderful person her father was. Everyone loved Philip Greene. “Gone too soon,” “He’ll be sorely missed.” She’d nodded and agreed. Her father would be remembered as a fair and just man. If she learned anything from what people said about him, it was that she should be a fair person. Had she been fair with Jamey? What would her old neighbor, Mr. T., say about this? Maybe something like “those who judge haven’t walked in anyone’s shoes but their own.” There had to be a Japanese saying for being fair.
She smiled at Millie. “Go to bed. I’ll finish cleaning in the morning. Right now, I’m going out for a few hours to see a friend, but I’ll be on my cell phone if you need me. Mom took a sleeping pill and probably won’t wake.”
Millie agreed to let the rest of the cleanup wait until morning, and went downstairs to her apartment.
In the office, Tina picked up her father’s car keys and immediately felt a strong sense of her father. Had he passed on to wherever souls go when they leave this life, or did he linger like Hank? “I love you, Dad. Mom and I will get through this.” Her whisper was barely audible.
Out the door to the garage, she slipped into her father’s BMW and put the key in the ignition. The car smelled like his aftershave. To keep from crying again, she took a deep breath and steeled herself. Life was short. Too short.
She needed to talk to Jamey.
Chapter 19
Tina pulled off Island Crest Way and onto Interstate 90, her heart lifting slightly from the heaviness of the day. The drive east to Carnation was quick at 70 mph, but not quick enough for her mission. She needed to see Jamey, face to face. What had become clear over the course of the day was that Jamey was not like other people. He operated with a different set of rules. Rules that allowed a psychic to use his ability and trust his judgment. As her intuition gained strength, so did her realization that life was very different with this ability. The old rules of how to operate in polite society didn’t apply to Jamey and she had to see him to explain that she understood why he’d written the letter.
Maybe this desire to see him was how Jamey felt on that Sunday she wouldn’t talk to him, wouldn’t let him come over. She’d hung up on him and turned off her phone. The thought squeezed her heart.
Pops’ driveway was dark, the car’s headlights turning the trees into ghost-like figures. When she pulled up to the house, the lights were still on downstairs, and Tina was filled with the anticipation of seeing Jamey.
Ringing the doorbell, she heard the shuffle of Pops’ slippers on the hardwood. His wavy frame appeared though the glass in the top window of the door. He pulled the door open and looked like he’d seen a ghost. “Tina. I thought you were back on Maui. I just talked to Katie a few days ago.”
“I came back.” She didn’t want to tell him about her father. Not yet. “I need to talk to Jamey.”
Pops stepped back to wave her in, and she entered the warmth of the old house. It smelled like whatever Pops had cooked for dinner. Maybe onions. He closed the door behind her. “Jamey isn’t here, Sweetie, but come in.”
“I hope you don’t mind if I wait for him. We really need to talk.” They walked to the kitchen.
Pops motioned to the kitchen table, and she sat down.
“I’m not exactly sure when he’ll be back, Tina.” Pops looked concerned. “Jamey returne
d to Afghanistan.”
***
Jamey was numb. Lying on his bed in the Sixth Force building on Kandahar Base was like he’d taken a huge emotional step backwards. Now he was indifferent to everything. Without Tina, very little mattered. Of course he still had Jade and Jasmine, but they lived with Carrie, full time. He came and went from their lives. And they were getting more independent every time he saw them.
Three days earlier, he’d taken them home after bike riding on the trails in Carnation, and when he asked what they should do the next day, Jasmine told him they had a busy week. Maybe he could come to their game on Saturday. “Just come to the house,” Jasmine added.
“We’re always there after school, doing homework, unless we have soccer practice, or art class, or we’re swimming,” Jade said.
“We don’t have to see you every day, Dad!” His kids were busy.
He couldn’t believe he was back on the Kandahar Airbase. Little had changed in the months he’d been gone. Even his quarters had been left intact, even though in his mind and heart, he’d left the war. They’d expected him back.
After spending yesterday taking standard medical tests, and today doing intuition tests with Sixth Force, he was cleared to jump tomorrow. Jamey’d asked for a mission briefing, but according to Milton it was classified, and he didn’t have clearance to share the details, not until just before the dream. “I’m going to try to jump, right?” Jamey had asked.
“Affirmative. On a sedated prisoner. First we’ll see if you can get in. If not, we’ll change his medication until he enters REM. Keep trying.” Milton lit a cigarette. “We’re experimenting with sedation and jumping, Freud. So it might be one jump, several tries, or whatever it takes to complete this mission. We’re hoping for one jump, but it might be two.”
“Or none,” Jamey said.
Milton took a drag on his cigarette and Jamey stood up to open the window. Man he hated those things, but everyone smoked in Afghanistan. Sometimes there wasn’t much else to do.
