All of My Soul

by Jenni Wilder

  “Now let me ask you something, Jillian. As a politician and lawmaker, I have heard countless debates over stem cell research. Obviously, as a scientist studying cell growth you must encounter this dilemma. Do you feel it’s ethical?”

  I took a deep breath and sighed. This could be a sensitive topic, and I wanted to phrase my answer delicately so as not to insult or offend Lincoln’s parents, so I bit my tongue and gave Senator Monaghan a politically correct response, making sure to not stray too far into the controversial parts of this subject.

  Lincoln’s father appraised me in silence, and I hoped I said the right thing. Finally he smiled at me after taking a long drink of water.

  “That’s a very politically correct statement, Jillian. Now how do you really feel?”

  I glanced at Lincoln and then back at his father, slightly confused. “That is how a really feel, sir.”

  “But as a scientist, surely you’re curious to learn what we’re capable of if stem cell research wasn’t regulated.”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t go into this field expecting to make miracle breakthroughs at any cost. I want to help people.” I looked down at the table and nervously pressed my hand against my leggings that covered the scars on my thigh. “I know what it’s like to have doctors tell you your sole option is a risky and incredibly painful procedure with a limited success rate. Hearing your best chance at healing will still leave your skin looking mutilated and disgusting? It’s isolating and depressing, and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. If stem cell skin grafts can prevent even one person from having to go through that, then yes I feel it’s necessary and even essential. But research for the sake of curiosity? That’s a slippery slope that draws the focus away from the main objective.”

  “Which is?”

  “Helping people,” I answered simply. That was the basis for everything I had worked for. I imagined a burned little girl lying in a hospital bed, scared and in pain. If what I was doing prevented her from suffering the way I had, then it would all be worthwhile. Maybe I was tilting at windmills, but I wouldn’t give up.

  Lincoln’s father relaxed back in his chair with a small smile on his lips. I felt as if I had maybe passed a test of some sort. The senator’s eyes glowed with what looked like pride, and he nodded at Lincoln. “She’s a keeper, son.”

  Lincoln squeezed my hand. “Don’t I know it?”

  “All right. Enough of that,” Lincoln’s father said and dug into the meal the waiter had delivered. “Now, how’re we looking for the play-offs?”

  We discussed hockey and how Lincoln’s season was going. His parents knew his stats, and it was easy to see how much they wanted him to be successful and play well. I think it would have been easy for him to crack under the pressure they placed on him to be great, but fortunately he really did love this sport, so the added pressure only encouraged him to play better.

  By the time our plates were empty, I was much more relaxed. Our lunch had gone wonderfully, and it was easy to see that Lincoln’s parents were good people. It was fun to see the senator tease his son and give him a hard time. Now I knew where Kennedy got her biting sense of humor.

  It was also interesting to see the interaction between Elizabeth and Lincoln. She was clearly proud of him, but at the same time she made it clear that nothing less than perfect would be accepted. Her son was a professional hockey player worth millions of dollars, but she reminded him not to lose his focus. She asked him if he was keeping a healthy diet, how hard he had been practicing, and if he was listening to his coaches and trainers.

  I wondered if she had been this hard on Kennedy and Carter as well. I couldn’t see Kennedy putting up with it, but poor Carter. Out of the three of them, he saw their parents the most since he was on the senator’s legal team. No wonder he was the most reserved of all of them. It would have been difficult to grow up under that scrutiny. My mother and oldest brother had put a lot of pressure on us to do well in school and find good jobs, but nothing like Lincoln’s mother.

  Lincoln eventually put his foot down on his mother’s nagging. He wasn’t mean about it, but he made it obvious he wasn’t here to talk about himself. He politely directed the conversation toward me, and I spent the next little while telling them my life story.

  Eventually Lincoln had to leave for warm-ups and a team meeting before the game. I had been particularly nervous about being left alone with his parents, but after meeting them, my nerves had subsided. They were great people just like Lincoln had said.

  Between Lincoln and his father, cash was thrown on the table to pay for our meal, and I noticed a generous tip was left for our poor befuddled waiter. A man in a dark suit who had been sitting alone near us stood up from his booth at the same time we did. He caught my eye because he looked so out of place. Elizabeth saw me staring at him and placed her hand on my shoulder, drawing my attention to her. “Just security, dearie. Don’t worry about them.”

  “Them?” I asked as we walked out of the restaurant. But she didn’t answer my question before I saw two town cars sitting at the curb in front of the bistro. I recognized our young driver from the previous night standing near the rear door of our town car. A matching car sat parked behind it with a similar man waiting for his passengers.

  “All right,” Lincoln said to his parents. “I have to go, but I’ll meet you at your town house as soon as I can after the game.”

  “Well, just remember. The longer it takes you to join us, the more embarrassing baby pictures Lizzie will show to your girl.” The senator winked at me.

  “Great,” Lincoln replied with a roll of his eyes. “You just gave mom an idea.”

  “Oh, no, sweetheart,” his mother said as she hugged him. “I’ve had the baby books out for days, just waiting for Jillian.”

  Lincoln groaned. “Oh, God. Jillian, please don’t listen to anything they tell you.”

  I giggled at how awkward and uncomfortable Lincoln seemed right now. I hadn’t seen him like this before. Kennedy gave him a hard time, but Lincoln gave it right back to her. He couldn’t do that with his parents.

  “Have a good game, son,” Senator Monaghan said before ducking into the back of their town car.

  “Be safe!” Elizabeth said and blew a kiss at her son before joining her husband in the car. She left the back passenger door open so I could join them once I said good-bye to Lincoln.

  “Are you going to be okay with them?” he asked me quietly.

  “Of course. I know I was worried earlier, but you were right. They are great.”

  “Okay. But when they show you pictures, just remember everyone has awkward teenage years they’d rather forget.”

  I bit my lip trying to contain my smile. “You had awkward teenage years?”

  Elizabeth’s voice rang out from the backseat of the car. “Lincoln, for heaven’s sake, we’re just taking her for a walk by the marina before the game. Stop freaking out.”

  I grabbed his face and pulled him down slightly. “We’ll be fine, baby. Now go kick butt.”

  He leaned down and kissed me. His lips lingered on mine, and I liked that he wasn’t embarrassed or awkward about kissing me in front of his parents. It made me feel secure.

  “I love you,” he said softly.

  I smiled. “I love you too, baby. Stay safe.”

  He nodded and kissed me again quickly. I sighed as Lincoln turned to walk to his town car, and I joined the senator and Elizabeth in the backseat of their car. It always sucked to say good-bye to Lincoln. Even if it was only for a little while.

  Lincoln’s mom and dad sat together on the bench seat that faced forward forcing me to sit with one of their security guards on the other. I smiled at him awkwardly as I took my seat, and he politely nodded but that was all he said or did.

  “All right,” Elizabeth said with a smile as our vehicle pulled away from the curb. Lincoln’s car was already gone. “Who’s ready for a nice walk?”

  ~~~~~~~

  “Oh, here’s a good one. I think he�
��s about three and a half years old there.”

  I took the picture from Elizabeth as we sat at the dining room table of their Georgetown town house with a photo album spread open in front of us. “Why are his pants wet?”

  “Oh. He probably peed in them. He was always wetting his pants when he was little. I constantly had to have at least two extra sets of clothes for him if we went anywhere.”

  I burst out laughing.

  “Mom!” Lincoln called from the kitchen where he was preparing dinner for us. “She doesn’t need to know that!”

  “Well, it’s true,” Elizabeth said. “Carter was potty trained before Lincoln was.”

  “MOM!” my man exclaimed with frustration as he walked into the dining room. His hair was still wet from showering after the game. He had raced to get here as soon after winning the game as possible.

  My cheeks hurt from smiling so much as I looked over the pictures Elizabeth had collected. Despite his wet pants, Lincoln had been an adorable child. I desperately tried to ignore the thoughts in my head about how adorable our child would be. Someday. Not anytime soon. I never thought I’d meet someone who would want to have a family with me, but as much as I wanted to be a mother, I knew we were both way too busy to be parents right now. However, the thought of holding a mini-Lincoln in my arms stirred something deep inside me, and I liked it a lot.

  “Okay, I think picture time is over,” he said as he set down a glass of wine in front of me. I laughed at him as he started haphazardly collecting the pictures and shoving them back into the photo albums. “The steaks are almost done, anyway.”

  The senator was flipping steaks on the grill on the balcony, and Lincoln had been preparing some vegetable side dishes in the kitchen.

  “Do you need help with anything?” I offered as Elizabeth put the photo albums away.

  He smiled and kissed my temple. “Can you set the table?”

  “Absolutely.”

  The four of us talked and laughed over our meal. Now that I was becoming comfortable with them, I was able to relax and enjoy our time together. They were wonderful people. I don’t know why I ever thought they would disapprove of me. I knew they were wary of their privacy, and trust did not come easy in this family. But once they met me and got to know me, I think it was obvious that I would never do anything to hurt Lincoln or their family.

  One thing I had noticed today was that Senator Monaghan was never far from his cell phone. He had received several calls while at the game and two while he was grilling. It was the nature of his job though. Important people needed to be in contact with him and vice versa, so I wasn’t surprised when his phone chirped from where he had set it on the table next to his plate. He swiped his finger across the screen, and his face broke into a wide smile as he read the text.

  “It’s Carter. He says they showed us on ESPN watching the game.”

  He tapped on his screen and held up his phone. A video of the game started playing. The camera zoomed in close on Lincoln’s face as he stood on the ice breathing heavily waiting for everyone to get into position before the action restarted.

  “Monaghan’s oh for two for shooting so far, but he’s got plenty of time to make up for it,” the announcer said.

  The camera flipped to a shot of Lincoln’s parents and me sitting in our private club box. It was a clear shot of us from across the arena. Elizabeth was leaning toward me, talking into my ear before my face broke out in a smile, and I laughed at whatever she had said.

  “Monaghan’s family is in attendance tonight,” the commentator explained in a deep voice.

  I watched myself sit forward in my seat, cup my hands around my mouth and cheer for my man. Lincoln’s parents smiled at me and then at each other before joining in with me.

  “Ronald Monaghan is, of course, Senator Monaghan from the great state of Illinois. His wife, Elizabeth, heads several charity organizations here in DC and in Chicago, and Lincoln’s girlfriend is getting her master’s degree in Biology at UIC. Talented family proudly cheering for their Hawks tonight.”

  A loud horn sounded in the background of the video and the image switched back to the action on the ice. The referee dropped the puck, and Lincoln and the other players burst into action before the video went black.

  Lincoln jerked up from the table, sending his chair flying backward. His whole body radiated with tension, and the knuckles on the hand holding his water glass were turning white as if he was just barely stopping himself from smashing it.

  “Lincoln! Calm down!” Elizabeth commanded.

  He glared at his mother. “Calm down? Were you watching the same video I was?” His voice was sharp and angry.

  “Lincoln,” his father started to say in a calm voice. “It’s a miniscule problem that will resolve itself shortly.”

  “Miniscule?! Her safety is a miniscule problem to you?”

  Was he talking about me? What problem?

  “No. But you’ve already taken precautions, correct?”

  Lincoln paused before answering. I could see his jaw clenching as he stared at his father. “Yes. I have,” he finally answered.

  “Then don’t worry. It’s not the end of the world.”

  Lincoln set his glass down with force causing the water to slosh out onto the table. “It will be the end of my world if anything happens.” He glared at his father before giving me a sad look and walking out of the room, leaving me sitting with his parents.

  I looked down at my hands in my lap. I didn’t know what they were arguing about, but I had a feeling it was about me. What had I done?

  “Jillian.” Elizabeth’s sweet voice was calming. “Would you like some strawberry pie for dessert?”

  I gave her a small smile and nodded. She began to clear the table, and I offered to help, but she dismissed me and walked into the kitchen to get dessert, leaving only the senator and me at the table. An awkward silence hung over us, and I wondered where Lincoln went.

  “He’s overreacting.”

  I looked up at the senator. He smiled at me, trying to be reassuring, I think, but I still wasn’t sure what he was talking about.

  “Lincoln?”

  He nodded and took a small sip of his red wine. “I understand how you would be worried, especially after your trip to the hospital, but the situation is under control. You don’t need to be frightened.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t really know what you’re talking about.” I felt stupid admitting it, but I really didn’t understand what was going on.

  “They announced where you attend university on national television. Doesn’t that concern you?”

  Oh. Lincoln was concerned about exposure. Privacy meant protection. There was still someone out there who had slashed my tires. Someone who had threatened me. Someone who had poisoned me. And the more information they had on me, the more vulnerable I was.

  “‘The problem will resolve itself shortly’?” I quoted him.

  “You’re graduating in a month, correct?”

  I nodded.

  “After that, it won’t matter who knows you attended UIC.”

  “It shouldn’t matter now. I haven’t been on campus in ages. The majority of my classes are online, and now the only thing I have left is to finish and present my thesis. If someone was looking for me there, they would never find me.”

  “When do you do that?”

  “June 11.”

  He smiled at me. “I remember presenting my thesis. That was a lifetime ago, and of course, it wasn’t in biology, but I remember being scared shitless.”

  I laughed at his blunt honesty. “I’m trying not to think about that part of it yet.”

  “From what it sounds like, you know your subject matter forward and backward. You’ll be just fine.”

  “Thank you. I hope so. I just need to polish off a few sections, and I think I’ll have a decent paper. I sent my rough draft to my advisor before we left for the weekend, so I’m anxious to see what he has to say.”

  Lincoln returned t
o the table in time for dessert. He apologized for his outburst, and by the time we left his parent’s townhome that night for our hotel room, I had pretty much forgotten the incident. Or at least I thought I had.

  Chapter Twelve

  A small warm light from inside Lincoln's house caught my attention as I walked up to it. I smiled as I stood on the front steps, looking in. The light reminded me of the candles Lincoln had surrounded the bathtub with on Valentine's Day. The orange glow grew larger. Was he making a fire in the fireplace? The flame grew even larger still. What in the world could that be?

  My smile faded as I realized something wasn’t right. The flames crawled up the wall until they umbrellaed out across the ceiling. Panic prickled through me. Lincoln's house was on fire! I needed to get help! I looked around for anything useful but there was nothing. Where was Lincoln? I tried to call out for him, but no sound came out.

  Suddenly my view shifted, and I was inside the house looking out. Flames surrounded me and feathered up my arms and neck. I was melted in place, unable to move to escape the burning. No! Not again!

  “Lincoln! Help me! Lincoln!!”

  I jerked awake in the darkness. I was drenched in sweat and gasping for breath. I thrashed out of bed, tumbling to the floor as my legs twisted in the wet sheets.

  A light came on from Lincoln's side of the bed. “Jillian?”

  Relief washed through me, burning through the adrenaline in my system. It was just a dream. I was in the hotel room in Washington with Lincoln. Everything was fine.

  Lincoln knelt in front of me and grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to look up at him. Worry was written all over his face. “Baby, what's wrong? What happened?”

  Needing to confirm he really was here with me, I launched myself into Lincoln's arms and wrapped myself around him before burying my head in the crook of his neck as a sob broke free from my chest.

  Lincoln hugged me tight before his hands roamed over my sweaty, naked body in a comforting way. “Princess, did you have a nightmare?”