Mission Statement

by Catherine Gardiene

  “So how come that changed?” Surprisingly Kelly’s voice didn’t sound little girl lost. The look on her face as she posed the question was pensive and studious. There was more than just her parents’ divorce in the question.

  “I’m not sure I know the full answer to that yet, honey.” Kelly’s face tightened and she seemed to grow angry with her mother, but Vicki continued. “Life changes you. Sometimes you change together, but your dad and I…didn’t. We still had you and your brother to keep us connected, but too many other things weren’t there anymore.” She sighed. “I know that’s not much of an answer, but it’s the best I’ve got right now.”

  Kelly sighed.

  “What’s going on, Kel?”

  “I’m moving out of Rick’s place.” Vicki hadn’t been happy that Kelly had moved in with her boyfriend, but took cold comfort in the fact that she didn’t want to live at Carolyn’s house. “It’s not that I don’t love him, but…well, what if we just end up like you and Dad? How can I be sure he’s the one when you’re the smartest person I know and you didn’t know?” Silent tears glided down her face.

  Vicki wanted to say something to soothe her, to make her understand that there’s nothing intellectual about love, that maybe being smart makes it harder to follow your heart, but Kelly didn’t let her.

  “I’m so sorry about that night, Mom.” They both knew what night without specifics. Slamming doors. Broken hearts. That night. “I was so angry. Dad seemed so lost and so pathetic. It was easier to blame you. Maybe this thing with Rick makes it easier for me to understand… I don’t know. I was so afraid it might have been Kevin or me that made you lose each other, but I didn’t want it to be our fault. So I convinced myself it was you—”

  Vicki reached for her daughter and pulled her into her arms the way she had when she was eight and her dog ran away. No words, just shhing and rocking and stroking her hair. The two women sobbed quietly and found their peace.

  “You and your brother are the best things your father and I ever did. Never think you did anything but bring us closer, baby.”

  Kelly sighed deeply and sniffled. As their tears dried, another deposit was made into the empty space, and Vicki finally believed she could feel whole again someday…

  * * *

  It was time to move on. The new year needed to be different from the old, for herself and her family. Ruminating about the collapse of her marriage wasn’t doing anyone any good, so she did what she had always done best. She formulated a plan.

  The appointment with the divorce attorney had been scheduled, and she stared at Michael’s note as she dressed for the meeting. It still rested atop her dresser, a reminder of what might have been.

  She wondered if he even remembered her.

  There was no doubt she remembered him. She’d found herself, more often than not, getting off to memories of his seduction, his total possession of her. The fantasy sex life she immersed herself in when reading, the one that had long ago replaced her actual sex life, had become almost exclusively an exploration of Domination and submission. Whenever she pictured the commanding leading man, she saw Michael in her mind’s eye.

  The attorney she’d chosen—a woman who’d come highly recommended—had her office in Syracuse. As she copied down the directions, she realized she’d be awfully close to the courthouse, which probably meant she’d be close to the police department. She toyed with the idea of calling Michael but dismissed it. He’d probably forgotten all about her by now, and how embarrassing would it be for her to call him and hear that confusion and uncertainty in his voice, the regret at having a vacation fling track him down in real life?

  As she’d expected, the lawyer, Rebecca Fielding, was direct and to the point. The dissolution of a marriage is never an easy or a quick thing, but since it was relatively amicable, Becca—as she insisted Vicki call her—said it should be relatively painless. Relatively painless. Wasn’t that a kick in the ass? Over half of her life down the drain, and she was supposed to let it be pain free?

  Becca told her to hold on to the house and let it be part of the community assets for division. As long as Alan didn’t want it, she could stay and be the plaintiff in the divorce, showing he left her for another woman. The message on the magnet came to mind again. Even the legal system demanded there be someone to blame, even if there really wasn’t anyone at fault.

  Walking back to her car, she heard sirens before seeing a police car screaming through the intersection in front of her.

  Before she could talk herself out of it, she walked the extra block to State Street and entered police headquarters.

  The entry looked more like the lobby to a corporate office. It was nothing like the images she remembered from the police dramas she’d watched on television. She asked the officer behind the desk for Detective Collins, and the man typed on the keyboard quickly before looking up.

  “Investigations Bureau, ma’am. That’s actually over on Montgomery. Take you a few minutes to walk over there. I can call first, make sure he’s there, if you like.” It had started to flurry, more lake-effect snow coming their way, and he nodded his head toward the glass-walled entry to show her the walk wouldn’t be a very pleasant one.

  “That’s all right, thanks. No need to call. I’m good,” she answered, her mind finally taking charge, ready to take her back to Glaston, back to safety.

  She exited the building and would have turned left if the wind hadn’t been blowing directly in her face when walking in that direction. She went right and saw the War Memorial, getting her bearings. Turning right again, she walked around the back of police headquarters and turned down the next block toward the parking garage.

  Shit. The street sign said Montgomery. Striking little deals with herself, she thought, if I walk right past it, I’ll go in. Then she decided if it was only a block away, she’d go just to see. Finally she decided she’d come this far, she might as well see it through.

  As it turned out, any of those deals would have led her to the building, as it was only half a block down.

  Pulling her scarf up to cover her face—meager protection from the biting wind and icy assault of the snow that had begun to fall in earnest—she entered yet another lobby. This one looked a lot more as she’d imagined it would. It was noisy and busy, with a much more harried-looking officer behind a rather beaten-looking desk talking on the phone.

  “Help you, ma’am?” He was brusque but polite.

  “Um… Detective Michael Collins?”

  He didn’t need a computer. “Collins? Yeah. Fourth floor. Elevator’s really slow but it works. If you take the stairs, you gotta go left when you get out to get back to main reception. Fitzsimmons is on the desk. She can tell you if he’s in or not.” He didn’t offer to make any calls. In fact, he was technically still on a call, even if he wasn’t paying much attention to it.

  She thanked him and took the stairs, afraid that if she waited for the elevator, she’d run back into the snow before she finished her fool’s errand.

  The stairwell was down the hall a bit, but the fourth floor was a lot less noisy and hectic than the first had been. She turned left as instructed and could see the aforementioned Fitzsimmons looking far less overwhelmed than her first floor counterpart. She paused a moment, calming her breathing and loosening the scarf that had begun to feel like it had a choke hold on her neck.

  Calm yourself. Just stop in and say hello. If he doesn’t remember you, so be it. You’re just stopping by to say happy New Year to a friend. Or an acquaintance. Well, once you’ve had sex with someone, are they still an acquaintance? Shaking her head to quiet the inner monologue, she squared her shoulders and stepped forward.

  “Vicki? Victoria? Is that you?”

  She stopped and closed her eyes. She knew that voice. She’d heard it in her dreams, in her fantasies, in her memories. Turning, she saw the face that went with the voice. Her heart was pounding, and she studied his face, looking for some sign that this might be a welcome visit and not
a nightmare for him.

  Trying to smile, she nodded slightly. “Happy New Year, Michael. It’s me.” She shrugged, not sure what to say.

  “Is this… I mean, I hope this is okay. I’m sorry to bother you at work; it’s just that…well, I was in the area, and I thought…” She had no idea what to say and was wishing she’d stayed on the sidewalk, gone to her car, even had herself arrested in the noisy first-floor area. Anything other than be a stammering fool in front of him.

  Why isn’t he saying anything?

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry. This was a mistake. I’ll just get out of your way.” Looking down at the floor, she slowly started back toward the stairwell, which would of course force her to walk past him. Hoping he’d have the courtesy of letting her by with some shred of dignity intact, she gave him as wide a berth as possible in the narrow hallway.

  “Victoria, stop. Please,” he said softly. “It wasn’t a mistake. You just surprised me, that’s all.” He chuckled, a soft rumbling sound that came from deep in his chest and made her insides quiver. “I’m not used to being surprised.”

  Finally looking up at him, she saw a broad smile on his face. He reached out and brushed his hands across her shoulders, wiping melted snow from her wool coat. “I guess it’s getting nasty out again, huh?” He put his hands back in his pockets and locked eyes with her. “I didn’t expect to see you again. But I’m really glad you’re here. Can you stay? Have a cup of coffee? There’s a place around the corner. I can cut out for the day.”

  Silently she nodded her assent, and he took her hand.

  “You’re freezing. Don’t you have gloves?” he asked sternly.

  “I left them in the car. Wasn’t really thinking, I guess.” They were walking back to his desk, one of many in a sea of desks and low-walled cubes. Many of the work areas were unoccupied, but most were covered with paperwork and Post-it notes, the flotsam and jetsam of the workplace that she found she missed more each day. The sound of multiple phone conversations happening at once meshed into the white noise of a typical office, and she found herself relaxing, the familiarity of it comforting.

  He grabbed a few things and tossed them in a backpack, then guided her to a closet where his coat hung with quite a few others. He reached up to the shelf above and pulled down a box, grabbing a pair of gloves from inside it.

  “Here. Lost and found… You need something on your hands.” He bundled up and watched her until she donned the gloves, finally smiling again once she wore them.

  “You’re still bossy, I see,” she murmured.

  He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “Part of my charm.”

  He guided her back through the bull pen with his hand on her elbow. It wasn’t the familiar feel of his hand on her back, but perhaps that part of their connection was gone for him. After opening the door to the stairwell, he stepped behind her and followed her down to the first floor. Once they left the stairs, he walked next to her, not saying a word. She sighed as the regret for an opportunity lost washed over her.

  “Sounds like you still have the weight of the world on your shoulders, sweetheart.”

  He opened the door, and the cold and wet blast took her breath away. The snow had picked up considerably, a white wall wherever she looked. “Wow,” she said. “I didn’t think it was supposed to get this bad.”

  “Well, you know how our storms are. It could all be over in ten minutes. Or it could snow until next Thursday.” He laughed. “Fortunately a cop shop means coffee and doughnuts close by, so the ubiquitous coffee shop is right here.” He opened the door, and the warmth drew her in. The delicious smell of brewing coffee and fresh baked goods would certainly have kept her, but part of her wanted to run anyway.

  She shook her head, vowing not to run from this man again.

  “Care to let me in on the conversation?” he asked. “Seems to me you’re having quite a debate in your head. I was just wondering if I might be able to add anything.”

  He took a booth in the back, which was safe. Nice solid table between them, no chance of knees touching or anything. He was certainly ensuring there was distance.

  “I’m sorry. Preoccupied I guess, and truthfully a little embarrassed that I just showed up at your doorstep, so to speak. I should have called. I’m sorry.” The flush in her cheeks was caused by her blush, but she hoped he’d chalk it up to the cold.

  “You know, you can stop apologizing. I’m glad you’re here. Things ended…abruptly and not well, and I always wondered if I’d ever see you again.” She was surprised to hear him admit to thinking about her. “And here you are.”

  Their coffee had come, and she sipped gratefully, the warmth and the distraction equally welcome.

  “I was in the neighborhood,” she said. She studied her coffee for a moment, again at a loss. What do you say? I’ve been masturbating to memories of you for a while, so I thought I’d stop by and see if we could maybe make some new ones?

  When she looked up, she noticed his mouth was set in a grim line, his eyes like steel.

  “So this was just because it was convenient? Just a little trip down memory lane before you go back to suburbia?” He sounded hurt, and a pain stabbed her chest.

  She shook her head violently, her reaction to his words palpable. “No, I’m screwing this all up. That’s not it. When I left… When I didn’t come to see you that night, it wasn’t because I didn’t want to. But I didn’t want to need anybody then. I was afraid if I went to you, I’d just be doing the same thing I’d been doing all along. Trying to find someone to fill the empty space inside me. But I knew I had to do that myself.”

  His face didn’t soften, his eyes didn’t tell her he understood. She’d hurt him or at least insulted him, and she deserved his anger.

  “So you’re all better now? Now you’re ready for a fuck buddy?”

  She pushed back into the seat as if he’d slapped her. “That’s unfair. I told you… Well, you knew a lot, which scared the shit out of me, and I told you the rest. There wasn’t enough of me to give any little bit away. If you couldn’t see that, then you’re not the perceptive son of a bitch you think you are.” She huffed and pushed her hair out of her face. “For some reason, I thought there was something there. I kept thinking about you, and I just thought…” Her voice trailed off as she rose to leave. What did she think? “Well, maybe I thought we could try again. But apparently not. So I’ll just get going. Sorry to have bothered you.”

  She rummaged through her purse, grabbed a five-dollar bill, and threw it on the table, fighting back the tears. This was worse than if he’d forgotten her. He hated her. Or at least he sure as hell didn’t respect her. Either way it was enough to help her get over her obsession, so she probably should have been grateful for that.

  Chapter Ten

  Before she could withdraw her hand after dropping the money, he grabbed her wrist.

  “Wait.”

  It was her turn to be angry. She tried to pull away, but he held on tight.

  “No. Let me go.”

  “Please,” he said. “I let you go once. Don’t ask me to do it again.” Looking chagrined, he slid his fingers down, enveloping her hand instead. She sat back down in the booth, back straight, glaring at him with fury in her eyes.

  “Vicki, I’m sorry.” He shook his head slightly. “I think I’ve said that more to you than any woman I’ve ever met.” Laying their clasped hands on the table, he rubbed his free hand over his face before dragging his fingers through his hair in frustration.

  “You definitely have an effect on me, sweetheart. You make me feel like an amateur. That doesn’t exactly bring out the best in me.”

  Her hand relaxed in his. It appeared that she was going to give him a chance, but it would likely be a small one. How was it she made him lose control so easily?

  Forcing himself to wait, he gave her time to settle. When the fire in her eyes dimmed a bit, he continued.

  “That was a terrible thing for me to say. There’s no excuse for it.
Please forgive me.”

  She withdrew her hand and crossed her arms, leaning back in the booth, but he saw her shoulders relax.

  He’d expected silence, but she surprised him again. “I guess this is awkward for both of us. What I was trying to say—and clearly not very well—was that there seemed to be something between us, but things were such a mess for me. I wasn’t sure if it was the circumstance, or just me, or…I don’t know. And I was here in the city. The parking garage was so close to where you worked, so I thought maybe I would just see. See if it was only me.”

  Her eyes were bright, but her mouth was turned down with a hint of a frown. Clearly nervous, she’d opened up a little. He needed to do the same. He spread his hands on the table, leaning forward on his elbows to move closer to her. He wanted to invade her personal space, but it was the best he could do. Hell. He wanted to envelop her in his arms, but the damned table was in the way.

  “Not just you. Not at all. I’ve thought about you a lot since you left.” Looking away from her in embarrassment, he admitted he’d spent quite a bit of time watching her balcony, even after he knew she’d gone. But he’d kept his promise in Aruba, and he’d kept it when he came back to New York. “Circumstance probably hurt us more than it helped, to be honest. You intrigue me, Vicki. And I’m not easily intrigued.”

  The connection was palpable. It was as if there was a current flowing between them. It had taken all the energy he could summon not to wrap his arm around her at the station, but he didn’t need the questions and the rumor mill unless this thing between them was genuine. As far as everyone assumed, he was some kind of a monk. There had been a rumor for a while that he was gay, but it was only because nobody ever saw him with a woman. But truthfully nobody ever saw him with anyone, male or female. They called him the Android for a reason.