To Have and to Hold

by Fern Michaels

  “It’s true, then.”

  “Yes, Kate, it’s true,” Gus said quietly.

  “I buried him . . . his things. But I also buried him in my mind. I really believed he was dead. Ellie believed, too, because of me. Betsy was the only believer. God, I wish I were dead,” Kate moaned.

  “Don’t say that,” Gus said, his arms about her shoulders. He led her back to the hard plastic chair. “Something’s not right about all of this,” he muttered. “Ellie told them where you were. They could have found us in a heartbeat if they really wanted to. Listen, can I have your permission to call my paper and ask a few questions?”

  “Of course. No one told us not to ask questions. I’ll wait here for you.”

  Kate watched him walk away. What would she say to Patrick? Hi, how are you? I’ve missed you. Gee, it’s good to have you back. By the way, I’m in love and I’m getting married in two months. You understand, don’t you? No, I don’t have feelings for you anymore. I buried you. I sold your father’s house to Gus and gave the money to Ellie and Betsy. I thought you were dead, never coming back. I have a life, too. I put it on hold for twenty years. What about me? What about me?

  She cried harder, sniffling and blowing her nose every few seconds. “Damn you, Patrick! Damn you for ruining my life a second time.”

  Forty-five minutes later Gus took his seat next to her. “No one knows anything. Nada. I had my chief call the foreign chiefs, and there’ve been no leaks of any kind. Everyone is going to be sniffing now. I might have stirred something up.”

  “So what?” Kate said belligerently. “I can’t let his coming back ruin my life. Again.”

  “Kate, don’t think like that. This is something you have to do. You owe it to your husband. The selfish part of me doesn’t want you to go back. While I was waiting for news at the phone, I thought about all the money at Chase and the estate. I thought about running off with you, but that’s not what you and I are all about. We’re decent, normal human beings who had the good fortune to fall in love with one another. I’m telling you, you have to go back, face your husband, and do whatever is best for the two of you. It is the decent, human thing to do. And you know it.”

  “What about us?”

  “I have this feeling that when we land at LAX, there won’t be any ‘us.’ I might not have the chance to tell you later, but I understand. I will always love you, that’s never going to change. Whatever you decide to do, I’ll accept.”

  “I can’t picture my life without you in it,” Kate said quietly. “I’ve been unfaithful to Patrick.”

  “Not knowingly,” Gus said.

  “It doesn’t matter. I broke my marriage vows. That’s a sin in the eyes of God.”

  There was nothing for Gus to say, so he remained quiet. He reached for her hand.

  “I feel like smashing something,” Kate said a long time later.

  “I could probably destroy this entire airport single-handedly,” Gus said an hour or so before their flight was scheduled to leave. “Let’s go get a drink. I think we deserve one.”

  In the bar, Kate held her glass of beer aloft, her eyes blazing angrily. “I want to drink to the would-haves, the should-haves, the could-haves.”

  Gus chomped down on his lower lip before he clinked his glass against hers.

  “Will we stay in touch? Can we still call each other?”

  Gus nodded. “Anytime you want. I’ll always be here for you. Listen to me, Kate. I have this feeling . . . my reporter’s instinct, that all is not what it seems. I want you to promise me something. When we get back, listen to what people have to say. Don’t agree to anything. Don’t disagree with anything. The most I want you to say to anything, is, ‘I’ll think about it.’ Then call me, but not from home. Call me from a phone both and at the office. Can you promise me that?”

  “Yes. Yes, of course. You sound so ... dramatic, so ... What is it you’re trying to say?”

  “I think I’m remembering the way my story got squelched and that ‘keep quiet policy’ they bound all you wives to. Government agencies have power you wouldn’t believe. They use power against people like you, and they try to use it against big papers like mine and reporters like me. Don’t make promises you’ll regret later. It’s important, otherwise I wouldn’t ask it of you.”

  “I think you just scared me, Gus.”

  “Good. Keep it that way.”

  “Will you call me?” Kate asked wistfully, in a small voice.

  “I don’t think that will be a good idea. What if Patrick picks up the phone? Your office probably isn’t a good idea, either. It’ll be best if you call, when you can, from outside. Tell Ellie the same thing. Betsy is sharp, she probably already figured all of this out, whatever this turns out to be.”

  “There’s something fishy here, isn’t there, Gus?”

  “The newshound in me says yes. Kate, I . . .”

  “I know,” Kate said softly.

  The four-and-half-hour flight was made in virtual silence. They held hands, their knees touching, each of them busy thinking. When the plane landed, they were the last to leave, postponing the inevitable as long as they could. When they walked through the door, two men stepped forward. They had a twin look about them, a government look, Kate thought. One called her by name and one called Gus by name. They spoke at the same moment: “Come with me, Mr. Stewart.”

  “Come with me, Mrs. Starr.”

  Kate felt a hand at her elbow and flinched away. “Take your hands off me right now,” she said viciously. “If you don’t, I’ll scream my head off.”

  “Easy does it, Mrs. Starr, I’m here to help you. Don’t do anything foolish.” His voice was the same as Bill Percy’s, her old caseworker. They must have all studied under the same elocution teacher, she decided.

  “Where are we going?” Kate demanded.

  “To a private room where we can talk. Your daughters are there waiting for you.”

  “Then why was Mr. Stewart taken separately? What’s going on?”

  “Shouldn’t you be asking questions about your husband?” the man said coldly.

  “Don’t tell me what I should and shouldn’t do. I asked you questions and you asked one in return. I’m going to ask you again, and if you don’t answer, be advised my lungs are strong.” She stopped short, slamming up against the agent to make her point. Those long-ago days of bullying and intimidation were gone.

  The man at her side stared at his charge, correctly interpreting her state of mind. This was one woman who’d make good on her threat. “Mr. Stewart is a reporter,” he said curtly.

  “What does that have to do with anything?” Kate demanded, her feet rooted to the carpet.

  “In matters of national security we have a certain protocol to follow. Your daughters are waiting. They’ve been waiting for hours. You weren’t on your scheduled flight,” he said coldly.

  “So what!” Kate snapped.

  “So you’ve kept everyone waiting. I suggest you move along here, Mrs. Starr.”

  “And if I don’t?” Kate said belligerently.

  “Then I’ll have to resort to other measures.”

  “You can’t talk to me like this. Maybe once because I was dumb and thought I had to take it. Not now, Mr. whatever the hell your name is. You—you’re kidnapping me!”

  “I’m not kidnapping you, and my name is Eric Spindler. I work for the State Department.”

  “You say you work for the State Department. How do I know that? You didn’t show me any identification.” But even as he reached into his suit coat pocket for his wallet she said, “I’ve changed my mind. I’m not going anywhere with you. Now what are you going to do?” she asked him. “You’re invading my privacy and ... and you can’t make me do anything unless you’re arresting me. I want a lawyer and I want one now!”

  “You’re being unreasonable, Mrs. Starr,” he said, managing to flex open his wallet as they walked, revealing his badge. “All I want to do is talk to you in private with your daughters in attend
ance. Thirty minutes at the most and then you’re free to go.”

  “I’m free to go now, isn’t that right, Mr. Spindler? I have rights, and you are stepping on those rights. I want a lawyer present when we talk.”

  “For every minute you delay this, that’s another minute Captain Starr is being detained. Do you have any idea how those minutes count to him? Put yourself in his place, Mrs. Starr. Look, I understand how this must seem to you. I have orders, I follow them. You have every right to an attorney, and you’re also right, I cannot make you go with me. I told you the truth—all I want to do is talk to you and your daughters.”

  “Mr. Stewart?”

  “Mr. Frazer is talking to Mr. Stewart. Same deal. No one is going to be held against their will. It’s been a long night, Mrs. Starr, for everyone concerned. Please cooperate.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that thirty minutes, Mr. Spindler.”

  “Fine. This is it,” Spindler said, holding the door open to a small cluttered room with three desks and four chairs and stacks and stacks of baggage tickets. The room was airless, with no windows, and smelled like garlic and peppers. Four suitcases rested one on top of the other. Kate wondered if they would fall over if one moved the wrong way.

  “Mom!” Ellie and Betsy said in unison, rushing to her. The suitcases toppled. No one picked them up. Kate held out her arms to them, tears dripping down her cheeks.

  “All right, Mr. Spindler, you have thirty minutes. The clock is ticking,” Kate said, looking at her watch.

  “Your husband is safe and sound. He’s in a ... what we call a holding area, going through a process of debriefing and medical testing. As a matter of national security, your husband must be returned to you and your family as ... Harry Mitchell. Captain Starr has agreed to this. It was one of the terms of his release by the Russians. Now do you understand why Mr. Stewart is not involved? His first loyalty is to the paper he works for.” Kate and her daughters said nothing.

  “Your husband will join you tomorrow. He’ll leave Washington in the morning and arrive on your doorstep at approximately three o’clock in the afternoon. We need the same assurance from you, in writing, that we got from Captain Starr, that you will not divulge to anyone that he is indeed your husband.”

  “What he’s saying, Mom,” Betsy said, “is our side screwed up and we pay for it. Dad is denied a hero’s welcome. He gave twenty years for his country, and his country now wants to deny his very existence. The end does not justify the fucking means, Mr. Spindler,” Betsy snarled.

  “There are no choices here, no options, ladies,” Eric Spindler said coolly.

  “He’s right, Mom. If we don’t sign his damn paper, if we don’t do whatever he says, they’ll stick Dad somewhere else for another twenty years. He has us all right where he wants us.”

  “Is that true?” Kate demanded, knowing her daughter spoke the truth. “How did this happen?”

  “I’ll tell you how. No one wanted to listen to me,” Betsy spat. “I believe, and can just about prove, that the Defense Intelligence Agency and the CIA had a pretty good idea at least one American was being held in the USSR who was reported MIA in Vietnam, but nobody in the White House wanted to act on the information because they were afraid of both domestic and overseas reactions to such information. So to avoid embarrassment at home and to ensure friendly talks with the Russians, the information was buried. Dad is the loser. Tell me I’m wrong, Mr. Spindler,” Betsy said tightly.

  She’s right on the money, Kate thought as she stared at the expression on Eric Spindler’s face. She hated him the way she’d come to hate Bill Percy. So many lies. Everything was a lie.

  “What’s more,” Betsy said, “we’ll all be under surveillance from now on. Our phones will probably be bugged, our mail gone through. Someone will always be watching us. One false move and we’re all history. People die every day. People disappear. I’m not saying it will happen, but it is a possibility. Ellie and I talked about this all night, and she agrees. Sign the paper and let’s go home, but I think we should rent a car. At least we’ll know it isn’t bugged. Our life as we knew it is gone, and we can only imagine what it must have been like for Dad.”

  Gus, Kate thought. He wasn’t overreacting. He’d told her to watch and listen, but not commit herself to anything. “For how long?” she asked coldly.

  “Until we tell you otherwise,” Spindler said.

  “That means forever. Otherwise you’ll be considered a traitor to your country. Don’t waste your time reading it, it’s all bullshit,” Betsy said, taking a fountain pen from her purse. She scrawled her name and shoved the paper toward her sister along with the fountain pen. She had no other options. Patrick was the only thing that mattered now. Kate had to borrow it from Ellie to sign her name.

  “I don’t suppose we get a copy of this?” Betsy snapped.

  Spindler’s face registered disgust.

  “Is this the same agreement my husband signed?” Kate asked.

  “I can’t tell you that.” He folded the papers and placed it in his briefcase. “Customs has been taken care of. Your baggage is alongside Carousel Three. You’re free to go.”

  “Dickhead,” Betsy spat as she shouldered past Spindler to get to the door.

  “Fuckface,” Ellie snarled.

  “Asshole,” Kate snapped. But that wasn’t true, an asshole served a purpose.

  “This is not a happy time,” Betsy said bitterly. “I thought there would be a parade, the President would shake Dad’s hand, the whole nine yards.”

  “It’s sneaky. They’re making your father sound like he did something wrong. Knowing him, I’m surprised he didn’t spit in their faces and refuse to sign the paper. We should have read it,” Kate said.

  “I’m going to get a rental,” Betsy said. “I’ll meet you right in front.”

  “Is all this necessary?” Kate asked Ellie, her face puckered with worry. “Did you tell her about Gus?”

  “No, but fuckface did. I think she knew. She didn’t say a word. Mom, it’d blow your mind to know what she knows. All those groups, all those organizations she belongs to. She says there are still men in Vietnam. She can prove it, too. No one will listen, no one will help. All these years . . . and she was right. I gotta tell you, when Donald died, she went to mass—she converted, you know. She had mass said and she went to the cemetery a few days . . . after. She’s the one who put the flowers there. She’ll go up against anybody, like she did to that guy back there, go to the wall and not think twice, but she couldn’t handle Donald’s death. She’s got guts, Mom. More than I’ll ever have. She’s going to apologize. If we want her back in the family, we have to take her as she is.”

  Kate nodded. “I thought she was going to ... to punch out his lights back there.”

  “Me too. Mom, how did Gus take all this? You must be devastated. You can handle it, can’t you?”

  “I hope so. I’m numb right now. Gus was . . . was . . . He said he understood. I think he does. He’s a good, kind man.”

  “I know that. It’s you I’m worried about. Can you handle this?”

  “I think so. I don’t see that I have choices or options at this point. Whatever is best for your father, I’ll do. Without reservations. What about you, honey?”

  Ellie shrugged. “I’ll be meeting a stranger. I really don’t remember Dad. I’m open to a father-daughter relationship. I can stay a few days if you think it advisable. Betsy is, too. He’s going to be like a stranger, even to you, isn’t he?”

  “I’m afraid so. It’s been twenty years since I’ve seen your father, give or take a few months. Betsy . . .”

  “Has a mouth on her. Guess she gets it from all the people she hangs out with. I still can’t believe she has her doctorate. When did she do it, in her sleep? Who does she get her brains from?”

  “From her father. You do too. I was the slow-witted one. I always felt so inferior to him, like I could never measure up.”

  “He’s going to be real proud of you now
. You have a degree and a successful business with three offices. That’s not shabby.”

  Kate felt pleased with her daughter’s compliment. “Do you think Betsy is overreacting? That bit about the CIA and that other organization . . . is that possible?”

  “Betsy says it is. I believe her.”

  “Is she right about the surveillance? Gus more or less said the same thing. He made me promise not to agree with anything, and what do I do? I do the exact thing he warned me not to do.”

  “We didn’t have a choice, Mom. Anything else would have been cruel to Dad. We did the right thing. We’ll live with it.”

  “I don’t have a good feeling about this, Ellie, and it has nothing to do with Gus. That’s my bag, the one with the flowers. It has wheels.”

  On the walk to the sliding doors where Betsy would be waiting, Kate said to Ellie, “I just came in from a foreign country and didn’t go through customs. There’s no stamp on my passport. Officially Gus and I are still in Costa Rica. I thought you had to go through customs.”

  “This is what Betsy was talking about. The power. He whisked you two right off the ramp. Nobody said boo.”

  “It’s scary,” Kate said, shivering.

  “I swear, Mom, you’re losing your tan just standing here.”

  “Fear will do that to you,” Kate muttered. “Here’s Betsy,” she said, moving to the curb. “In a Lincoln Town Car, no less. Where does she get her money?”

  “She gives speeches and she tutors. She’s not hurting. She charges thirty-five dollars an hour to tutor and gets a grand a speech. She knows her stuff. I feel bad we missed so many years. We talked all night. I kind of like her. I think she liked me. We agreed to work on this sisterly thing.”

  “What about the mother-daughter thing?” Kate asked quietly.

  “I don’t know how to open the trunk,” Betsy called out, “so slide your bag on the backseat. Do you have enough room?”

  “Plenty,” Kate said, sliding onto the seat.

  Four hours later Kate and her two daughters were soaking in the hot tub, glasses of wine in hand. The portable phone rested on the ledge. “The bottom line here is if we open our mouths and admit Dad is back, we become an embarrassment to the government and endanger national security,” Betsy said over the rim of her glass.