“Then what’s the problem?”
“I like you a lot more than I should,” she whispered. “That’s the problem. We can’t do this. We’re so different.”
“We aren’t all that different,” he said. “We have a good time together. We laugh. We can discuss serious topics as easily as the superficial ones. We’re both passionate about policy, the greater good, our shared values. And we’re attracted to each other. What more do we need?”
“We want different things, Jack. We’re at different points in our lives. We live over a hundred miles apart when we’re not at work. For God’s sake, I endorsed your opponent in the last election. On top of that, I have two children to worry about. The decisions I make affect them too. I don’t have hookups. I don’t do temporary.”
“And you’re saying I do?”
Caroline stared at the floor.
“All right,” he said. “That’s a fair criticism.”
“I’ve only had serious relationships. I never really even dated all that much before I got married. And I don’t think I’m ready to take that step. I can’t handle anything like that right now. I’m sorry. I wish I could.”
Jack walked over to her and took her hands in his. “Caroline, I care about you. Very much. I want you to be happy. I want to be more than friends. But I’ll respect your decision if you don’t want to move forward with this, if you don’t want to explore this possibility. I’m simply asking you to consider it. Can you promise me that?”
“I guess so,” she said.
He tucked a loose hair behind her ear. “I’ll give you all the time you need. I won’t pressure you. And the next time I try to kiss you, I’ll ask first. Okay?”
“I really need to go,” she whispered, her eyes shut.
“Okay.” Jack sounded extremely dejected.
If she stayed there any longer she was liable to change her mind. Caroline scooped up her purse and rushed out the door, the heat of his kiss still playing at her lips.
Chapter Ten
Maureen stumbled into work that Friday morning. She hadn’t slept well at all and left a message for her daughter that had gone unreturned. Remembering that she was supposed to check in with Bill, she meandered over to his office after getting a cup of coffee. There were a number of police officers milling around, one of whom was carrying a cardboard box.
“What the hell is going on?” she demanded, attempting to go through the door.
One of the men, who appeared to be in charge, pushed her back. “You can’t go in there, ma’am.”
She scanned his name tag and badge number, noticing the patch on his arm. “The hell I can’t, Sergeant. Where’s Dr. Livingston?”
“Unfortunately, he passed away last night.”
Her heart sank. “Excuse me?”
“Brakes went out on his car. Tragic, really.” The sergeant was trying to look regretful. “He was only a couple of miles from home.”
Bill’s Audi was only a few months old. She smelled bullshit. “He – what are you doing here, in his office?”
The sergeant’s face was blank. “His widow asked us to bring her his things. Apparently she has no interest in coming here to retrieve them. “
Maureen grabbed the cardboard box out of the other officer’s hands. “I can do that.”
The sergeant took the box from her. “Ma’am, please don’t interfere with this process.”
“No,” she said. “Someone who cares about Bill should be doing this. This isn’t part of your job description.”
“It’s already been taken care of.” He turned to the other officers in the room. “I think we have what we need here, gentlemen. Good day, Doctor.”
Maureen frowned at him, not speaking as the sergeant and his men slinked out of the room. What he was saying couldn’t possibly be true.
As she left Bill’s office and went into the main part of the hospital, she knew he was right. Random staffers were weeping softly. Several nurses were hugging each other. Word must have spread fast.
She shuddered. This was too coincidental. But who could she talk to about it? Who in the VA would think she was anything other than crazy? She bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to think of Bill’s final moments, then marched down the hall to go comfort her staff.
* * * * *
Maureen sat at her desk, where she’d been silently pondering her options for the last several hours. To her knowledge, the government still wasn’t able to track what was going on in her mind. At least, not yet. She wanted to go home immediately that morning but instead had spent time talking to employees, taking care of administrative matters, and trying to figure out exactly who was going to replace Bill. She had the distinct impression that it would be someone from the outside. Someone who wouldn’t have the same ideals as Dr. Livingston, or any other sane person for that matter.
She scribbled a few things on a piece of paper and looked at her watch. It was past dinnertime. Time to go home. She stared down at the car keys in her purse. Maybe today was a good day to take the train home instead.
Chapter Eleven
The church was crowded. It was a beautiful February morning, though it was bitterly cold. Maureen stepped out of her car. A couple of other hospital staffers asked her to ride along with them to the funeral but she politely declined. She wanted to be alone. She didn’t want to swap happy stories or express deeply held gratitude or any of the other things that people did while trying to make themselves feel better about the death of a friend. She didn’t care if they thought she was being aloof. She missed Bill and she wasn’t ready to share her grief with anyone yet.
Maureen sank into a pew near the back of the church. The ceremony went by quickly. The pastor mentioned Bill’s dedication to his country, his love of family, and a bunch of flowery, trite anecdotes that made it obvious that he really didn’t know who he was talking about. Bill’s son gave a heartfelt, emotional eulogy, and most of the attendees were in tears by the time he was finished. Maureen sat clenching her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She hadn’t cried yet. Didn’t want to. Stoicism was her chosen path. She and Bill had worked together for almost a decade and she wasn’t ready to let go.
The recessional hymn began and Bill’s children filed out behind the casket. Bill’s eldest son was holding on to his mother tightly. She looked devastated. Maureen knew that look. She felt the same way when her husband passed away a decade before. It was the kind of thing that stayed with you forever even if you managed to make your peace with it.
Maureen shuffled out of the service with the rest of the mourners. Bill’s widow, Barbara, was near the front of the church. Shockingly, she was alone. Maureen hesitated to bother her at first; it was probably one of the few moments Barbara had to stop putting on a brave face, and Maureen didn’t want to disturb that. But she saw Barbara waving her over, so she figured it was safe.
Bill’s wife pulled Maureen into a warm hug as soon as she came over. “Thank you for coming,” she whispered. “Bill just adored you.”
Maureen swallowed hard, desperately close to crying. Barbara was probably being nice but it warmed her heart to hear it. Maureen had perhaps been liked by her colleagues, but never beloved. “I know,” she said. “How are you holding up?”
Barbara’s eyes were watery. “It’s been hard. I don’t understand it. That car was almost brand new. It doesn’t make any sense.”
Maureen didn’t want to press anything but figured now was the best time to do it. “Did anyone look at the car to figure out what happened?”
“No,” Barbara said. “The police told me the brakes went out. I mean, what else could it have been?” She shook her head. “Sometimes these things just happen, I guess.”
“Did the cops bring you everything you asked for? I can clear out the rest of Bill’s stuff if you want.”
Barbara gave her a puzzled look. “What are you talking about?”
Maureen rubbed her eyes. “They were in Bill’s office a few days ago. They told me you
’d asked them to bring you some of his personal effects.”
The other woman frowned. “I never said any such thing to those men. They were fairly rude, to begin with. No compassion, very cold. Like it was an inconvenience to be there. I’m lucky that one of my golf partners was at the house with me or I’d have gotten no support at all.”
Maureen inhaled sharply. “Maybe I misheard them, then. Do you want me to bring you anything? I’m sure he has quite a few items in there that have some meaning for your family.”
“I’ll have one of the boys do it,” Barbara said. “Can they give you a call to arrange things?”
“Absolutely.”
Barbara patted Maureen’s hand. “Thank you again, Maureen. Will you be coming to the luncheon in the church basement?”
Her mind was running overtime, and she glanced at her watch. “No, I need to get back. I want you to know…if you ever need anything, please call me.”
Barbara gave her a final hug. “That means a lot. Maybe the two of us can lunch sometime.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Maureen said. “Take care of yourself. Bill was a good man. I’ll miss him.”
Barbara gave her a smile as she walked away.
* * * * *
Maureen hustled down the hall, checking behind her. Good, she was alone. She fumbled in her pocket for her keys. She could have sworn that Bill had given her the spare key to his office a few years back. She hurried inside her own suite and checked inside the side drawer of her desk. The key was still there, buried under a pile of long forgotten paperwork.
Breathless, she ran up the stairs to Bill’s office and unlocked the door. She shut the door behind her, gulping for air. Maureen looked around and almost kicked herself. How could she have failed to notice that almost everything in Bill’s office was untouched? Had the shock of the news distracted her that much? Or had the cops just been that good at keeping her off her game?
She moved over to his desk, shuffling some papers around, then glanced at a picture of him and his family on a ski vacation in Colorado. Maureen bit her lip. He really was a decent man. A kind boss, a fair administrator…everything he learned in the military and throughout his career taught him that being reasonable but demanding produced positive results.
She noticed one of the drawers in Bill’s file cabinet was ajar. She pulled it open. It was empty, save for one tabbed divider. “Notes on Patient Files,” it read. Bill had a habit of keeping detailed narratives on the more troublesome cases that came through the door, though he wasn’t required to do it. When she tried to shut it again, it wouldn’t close. The lock was broken. She tried to open the other drawers, but with one drawer open, they wouldn’t budge.
It didn’t matter. The authorities had what they wanted.
“Fuck,” Maureen whispered.
Chapter Twelve
Caroline
June
They made the long, scenic drive to upstate New York early that morning, stopping at the Baseball Hall of Fame. Marguerite and Sophie were very excited since it was the first year they were able to go to camp together. Caroline was happy for them. They were finally turning the corner with regard to their sorrow, but their mother felt pretty bummed at the prospect of not seeing them for the next two and a half months.
They were spending the night in Cooperstown, which was about two hundred miles from the camp Marguerite and Sophie were attending in the Adirondacks. Caroline could have sprung for airfare, but she appreciated having a few extra days of quality time with her daughters before dropping them off for the extended summer session. They had a few unbreakable rules when they were in the car: no electronics, very limited radio, all chat. It worked well for Caroline and Marguerite the first couple of years Mo went to camp; one year they stopped in New York City for a Broadway show, even though it was far out of the way. It was worth it for the quality time they got to spend together. Nick and Sophie always stayed behind; that was Mo and mommy bonding time.
Caroline watched the girls bounding through the exhibits at the Hall of Fame. She took great interest in the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League exhibit, even though she felt it was a little small. The Ebbets Field façade, the other antique items - Caroline had forgotten how cool the Hall of Fame was. How cool Cooperstown was. Set on a lake, surrounded by trees…it was really in the middle of nowhere. Rural New York was such a beautiful place. Almost like the Midwest.
They were strolling through the postseason exhibit when Marguerite doubled back and put her arm around Caroline’s waist.
“So where’s all the Cubs stuff?” she asked.
“Be nice to your mother.” Caroline tweaked Marguerite’s ear. “I don’t see a lot of Nationals stuff here.”
“You can admit your secret Red Sox devotion,” Marguerite said. “I’ve seen all those jerseys you have hidden in the basement closet.”
“I reveal nothing.” Caroline straightened up. “Although I’ve noticed that Orioles hat in your bedroom. You’re one to talk.”
Marguerite laughed. “I like you, mom.”
Caroline smiled. “Good to hear.”
“Are you going to miss us?” Marguerite asked.
“I will, sweetheart. Very, very much.” She stopped walking and gave Mo a big hug, knowing that since there weren’t many people around she wouldn’t mind. Mo was considerate enough to hug her back. Caroline saw Sophie a few feet ahead of them lingering near the end of the hall. “I think we’re almost done here. Want to go get something to eat?”
“Sure. But I want to get a Senators cap before we leave. To appease you.”
Caroline kissed the side of her eldest daughter’s head. She’d been able to instill a good sense of historical perspective in her eleven year old. “You might even be able to goad me into paying for it if you’re nice to me,” she said. “Let’s catch up with your sister and get some food.”
* * * * *
They settled into a booth at a quiet American style restaurant along the lake. Caroline and Marguerite swapped gift shop purchases; while Caroline gleefully purchased a Senators hat for Marguerite, her daughter shelled out for a throwback navy blue Cubs hat with the Cubbie Bear holding a bat. It had always been one of Caroline’s favorite old sports logos. Sophie decided on a Brooklyn Dodgers cap since she loved all the Jackie Robinson memorabilia they’d seen. Caroline promised the girls she’d keep all their items safe until after they returned from camp.
After they ordered, Marguerite turned to her mother.
“So, what are you going to do when we’re gone?” she asked.
“Oh, you know,” Caroline said. “Throw some keggers, work on my meth lab, hang out with other kids to make you jealous, that sort of thing.”
Sophie, who was seated next to Caroline, snuggled closer to her mother. “Really, mommy. We don’t want you to be lonely.”
Caroline was touched by their concern. “I won’t be. I have a job, you know. There will be plenty for me to do before the summer recess comes and we can spend the rest of our vacation together.”
“Planning on spending any time with anyone special in the meantime?” Marguerite asked.
She stiffened. “Excuse me?”
Marguerite glanced at Sophie, who was smiling. “We thought with all that free time, you might want to have someone maybe make you dinner once or twice a week. Since you can’t be counted on to properly feed yourself.”
She relaxed. “You mean Jack?”
Marguerite grinned. “Yeah.”
“He’s a good friend,” Caroline said.
“He’s good at reading stories,” Sophie observed.
Caroline had listened in one night as Jack put Sophie to bed. He read her a book in such a theatrical tone that Caroline never would have known it was him if she hadn’t been standing outside the room. She wondered why he’d never settled down. He was much better with children than she would have thought.
“I-” She wasn’t sure how to play this.
Marguerite gave her mother a s
ympathetic look. “You’ve been a lot different this year. The last few months, I mean.”
Caroline looked across the restaurant. It wasn’t that crowded. It would probably be a while before their food arrived. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to have this conversation with her children in public. Or at all, frankly.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
Now Marguerite looked uncomfortable. “You’re not as sad.”
She rubbed her forehead, thinking of how much she’d forced her daughters to put up with during the past sixteen months. “I’m sorry I was so useless last year.”
“That’s not what I meant. I just-”
Caroline blinked rapidly. “I still miss your father very much.”
Marguerite sniffled. “I miss him too.”
Shit. She didn’t want to bring her children to tears the day before they were all going to be separated. There were going to be plenty of emotions flowing freely the next afternoon. Caroline could feel Sophie burrowing in closer to her shoulder.
“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this now,” she said.
“Maybe you’re right.” Marguerite wiped her eyes. “I’m going to miss you, mom. Will you be okay without us for two months?”
“I think so.”
Sophie poked her head up. “Are you sure?”
Caroline kissed her forehead. “I’m more worried about you. Are you nervous about camp?”
“Kinda,” she whispered. “I won’t know anyone.”
“Your sister will show you around. Right, Mo?”
Marguerite smiled at her younger sibling with genuine affection. “Sure thing, Feef.” She turned to her mother. “I’m getting paid for this, right?”
Caroline rolled her eyes. “No values whatsoever,” she said to Marguerite. “None.”
Marguerite gave her a cheeky look. “Must be genetic.”
Caroline saw the waiter coming over to their table with the food and was immensely grateful for the distraction. “Time to eat.”
The Bellator Saga: The First Trilogy (Dissident, Conscience, and Sojourn) Page 11
