Leap

by M. R. Joseph

  I call to my mom when I’m done because getting into the tub is a lot easier than getting out. She wraps a towel around me and helps me out, then leaves me to stick my robe on. I go towards the fogged up mirror and wipe it—displaying the image of someone I don’t know. Who am I? What is this all about? I ask God all the time. What’s the reason for all of this? This pain, this sorrow. Why has he chosen all of us for this torture? This is part of the nightly ritual.

  My pajamas are on the bed—beckoning me to put them on. I do. The process takes some time and I feel some of my meds kicking in so soon I will be asleep.

  “Mom, I’m done. You can come in.”

  My mother comes in and helps me brush my hair. I’m so tired this time of night that I hardly have the energy to do it. A mother’s touch is soothing. It relaxes me. Even though she’s a pain in my ass, my mother’s touch is a calming factor in my life.

  “Haven seemed to be okay after everything. This part isn’t going to be easy for her. The growing up part.”

  I snap, not meaning to but I do. “She has me. She’ll be fine.”

  “I know she will be eventually, Corrine, but I raised a daughter and the hormonal years are not the easiest. But you’re right. She has you so she’ll be fine.” I don’t respond. I’m tired. Today was a challenge.

  When she’s done she gathers the wet towel, hangs it up for me, takes my clothing from the day, and puts in the laundry basket.

  “Lt. Commander August called Jocelyn earlier when you were down on the beach with Haven. They haven’t heard anything new over the last few days. He said the media has been quiet mainly because they have been keeping any news they do get low key.”

  I huff at that. “Oh, please. They haven’t gotten anything new since they got the new goddamn ransom letter a few weeks ago.”

  “Corrine, do not take the Lords name in vain.”

  I throw my weak body back against my pillows.

  “Well maybe the Lord should have thought about that before he allowed the fucking enemy to take my world away from me. Fuck the Lord, fuck Lt. Commander August, and fuck the press. Fuck everyone.”

  She stays silent and I just squeeze my eyes shut and pound my fists on my bed. I shouldn’t take it out on her. She doesn’t deserve my outbursts.

  “Mom, I’m … I’m sorry. I’m so tired. It’s been a long day. I’m just angry and frustrated. Did you know Grace has been sending Haven letters in the mail pretending to be Mack? She has been writing that he will be home soon.”

  My mother shakes her head. “False hope. That’s what she’s giving her.”

  I swallow down those words. “Hope is a word only used to define a situation that has expectations. We have no expectations. We did. I’m losing my thought of what to expect.”

  She comes to sit on the bed and strokes my hair in her motherly way.

  “Baby, what did you expect? For Mack to walk away from the situation? To escape those ropes and the guns pointed at his face?”

  I cry out with pain. “Yes, Mother. I did. I expected Mack to escape and run for his life. I expected him to run back to us by now. He’s the strongest person I know. I fully expect him to walk through that door and look at me and look at Haven and know he’s finally safe. I want him to tell me he ran home to us as fast as he could. But I’m losing that hope, Mother. I’m losing it like I’m losing my mind. Help me, please. Help me to understand why. I need you to help me. Why won’t you help me?” I sob and sob as my mother moves her arms around me and holds me as I cry into the crook of her arm.

  “Corrine, you’re not losing your mind, my baby girl. And the fact remains that you are the strongest person I know. I’ve never known a stronger woman. I’ve never known a stronger woman who keeps hope alive for the man she loves more than herself. I’ve also never seen a stronger mother than you, Corrine. You are that girl’s mother, and you are raising her to be strong like you—like Mack. I think if he were here right now, he’d be so proud of you. I know I am.” She pulls away and wipes my face. She grabs my phone for me. Part of the nightly ritual.

  “My brave, brave girl. You listen, then you rest.” She sets the phone on my nightstand next to my bed and kisses my head.

  “Thanks.”

  “Night, sweet girl.”

  Mom closes my door, and I take my phone and stare at it as I make my way under the covers of my bed. Once I’m comfortable I continue my routine.

  I find the message and press play like I do every night. I close my eyes and imagine him here saying the words. My heart hurts as I listen—tortured even, but like driving by the scene of an accident on a highway, you need to look. I know that’s morbid, but the sweet torture exists inside and somehow it raises my hope every time I listen.

  Rinny, It’s … um it’s me. (sigh) I know you’re upset with me and I hated leaving you this morning looking so damn beautiful, but I had to go. You know why I had to go, why I have to go. Know that this will be it for me, though. I’m never going to leave you or Haven again. I promise. This time I promise. Even if the world thinks what I’m doing is important, the only thing that’s important in my world is you and Haven. You are my world. I love you so much, Corrine. I would have never been able to get through the last few years without you. Wait … (laugh) I’m wrong. How would I have gotten through my whole life without you by my side? I need you by my side, always. Rinny … I’m so sorry. Please forgive me, babe, for leaving. I’ll be back in a few days and when I come back it’s going to be you, Haven, and me. Forever, Rinny. Forever and ever. Like we always said. We’re going to be a real family when I get back. I’m going to make sure of it because, Rinny, you’ll be my wife. You’ll give in sooner or later. You just have to marry me … Oh shit, they’re calling for final boarding of my flight now. I have to go, but Rinny, I’ll see you in less than a week. That’s nothing, right? Give my baby a kiss from her daddy when she wakes up. I love you so much … so much, Rinny. I’ll be in touch soon. Remember, we’re always under the same stars. Bye, my love.

  And when the message ends, I stare at the phone again and then hold it close to my heart.

  “Goodnight, my love. Be safe. We are under the same stars, like you always said when you went away on assignments. I love you, Mack.”

  This morning I’m actually feeling pretty good. We take advantage of the good days. There aren’t many. After Haven comes over and has breakfast with us, we play a game or two of Scrabble and make sure she has an even better understanding of her newly blossomed womanhood. I have my dad drive me into Manhattan so I can have lunch with Mack’s best friend from BU who is in town for business.

  The drive from Long Island to the city is long. Very long. I can’t take the rail system anymore because once it pulls into Penn Station the haul to the above street cabstand is like running in the NYC Marathon. Practically impossible. Dad drives me towards the Financial District. Dad is also having lunch with a friend. I’ll text him when I’m finished so he can pick me back up. Dad drops me off at the restaurant I’m meeting Owen at.

  When I get to the front door of the trendy New York City restaurant, I open the big glass door with the good strength I have and as soon as I walk in I spot him.

  Owen Decker. His eyes find mine and at first, because it’s been a while, he looks surprised at my appearance. It also could be just me conjuring that up in my head. I doubt it though. Most people who haven’t seen me in a while have that sort of reaction.

  I smile and get a warm feeling when I see Owen. It’s a relief to see someone so familiar even if we don’t get a chance to see each other often enough. When he reaches me he grasps my upper arms gingerly and gives me his handsome, broad smile.

  “Corrine, you look amazing.” He kisses my cheek and I whisper to him, “And you’re a liar, Owen Decker.”

  I wink at him and he laughs. He takes my arm and leads me to our already waiting table.

  “I took the liberty of ordering you a cucumber and lemon spritzer. I know how you love them.”

  I
roll my eyes. “I’d rather have a Pinot Noir.” Owen makes a tsk sound with his mouth.

  “You’re a bad girl. You’ve always been.”

  “Stop flirting with me. I’m blushing.” I’m kidding of course.

  “You stop flirting with me, Miss Flirter. I am here on serious business. Not to try to get into your pants, Ms. Blanchard.”

  I let out a collective laugh. “You’ve been trying to get in my pants for years, Mr. Decker. Don’t turn all professional and innocent on me.”

  “Well, I would have gotten in your pants if it wasn’t for that brutally handsome journalist who stole you from me. And I never said I was innocent.”

  He takes a sip of what I think is whiskey and wiggles his eyebrows up and down.

  “And I never mix business with pleasure, Corrine.” He winks at me, and I gaze at the overly-priced menu in front of me—pretending not to hear a word of the bullshit Owen seeps out of that handsome mouth of his.

  He clears his throat. “So can we talk about it or you want to eat first?”

  “We can talk about it, Owen. I’m not going to break.”

  He runs his hand over his tight-angled jaw and sighs.

  “Sorry, I know. I just … sometimes when I see you I don’t know what to say or how to say it.”

  “Don’t think, just ask.”

  He clears his throat again. “How’s Haven?”

  I shrug. “Got her period for the first time yesterday.” Owen chokes on his drink.

  “Jesus, Corrine. Did you have to tell me that, and at lunch nonetheless.”

  I cover my mouth and laugh a little. It feels good to laugh.

  “Well, she is your goddaughter, Owen. Don’t you want to know about her becoming a woman?” The sarcasm in my voice is thick and humorous. Owen sort of agrees.

  “I want to know how she’s doing in softball and in school, not … not woman stuff.” He shoves away his menu. “See, now I can’t even eat. I’m nauseous. Completely nauseous.”

  I laugh again. It’s a good day. Owen could always make me laugh though so it’s no surprise.

  “I like to see you smile. Looks good on you, Corrine.”

  “Thanks. I haven’t done a lot of it lately so you being here brings it out of me.”

  “I wish I had time this trip to see her but my plane leaves in a few hours. I’d never make it out to the island then back to JFK in time. But I’ll Skype with her next week.”

  I smile again. “Haven would love that.”

  Owen relaxes back in his chair and lets out an uncomfortable breath. “So, I’m guessing no news is good news, or is it the opposite of that?”

  I shake my head and take a sip of my water. “Nothing new except for the new ransom letter they received.”

  “But that was what … five weeks ago?” I nod. “That’s shit, Corrine. I wish I knew someone in D.C. I hate not being able to do anything. I feel helpless.”

  He looks pained, and I take his hand to ease his worried eyes. Well, the best way I can.

  “Owen, even if you knew the President of the United States you still wouldn’t know such classified information. I never get first-hand information because I’m not “family.”” I air quote the family part. It’s true, though.

  “I’m just the girlfriend, Owen. We don’t get special treatment.”

  “Christ, Corrine, everyone knows you’re so much more than that. I mean you’re helping to raise his daughter and you’ve been living together since you were twenty.”

  “Tell me things I don’t know, and I’ll give you the answer. But for now, this is what it is. I’ve written letters to the United Nations, Homeland Security, and whoever else can possibly be of some sort of service, not to me, but mostly for Jocelyn. She can’t handle any of it. Not that I’m any better, but I can write a letter and make some calls.”

  “Yeah, I was going to bring that up. How are you feeling?”

  The waitress brings over some bread and compote and takes our order, temporarily setting aside our conversation. Knowing Owen, though he won’t let it slide.

  He hands the waitress the menus and in true Owen fashion says exactly what I thought.

  “So new doctor, right? New meds?”

  “Yes to both. One is experimental and it causes a lot of fatigue, but it seems to help. It all depends on the day.”

  “Well New York is known for their exceptional medical facilities so I know you’re in good hands.”

  I take a sip of my water and nod. Nodding is something I do a lot of because sometimes words are lost to me. Sometimes explanations or lengthy conversations are a struggle. Not because I want to be introverted, but sometimes I don’t want to elaborate on things.

  “So, Mr. Decker, any new ladies in your life?”

  He flashes me a flirtatious grin and wipes a crumb of bread from the corner of hide mouth.

  “You know how it is with me, Corrine, lots of new ladies.”

  “Ah, yes. The infinite bachelor.”

  “Eh, maybe, but I let the ‘one’ lady slip by.”

  I sigh knowing what he means. “Owen, I wish you’d stop talking like that. Especially under the circumstances.” He’s always making remarks regarding me being the one that got away, so to speak, but I also know Owen has been playing this harmless game with me since forever.

  He reaches across and grasps my hand—giving me reassurance he is kidding.

  “Corrine, you know I like to mess with you. You’re Mack’s. You always have been. I’m just the idiot who didn’t act quick enough to steal you from him. My loss.”

  I put my hand a top of his and wink. “Yeah, big loss.”

  During our lunch, Owen and I touch again briefly on Mack and the situation. We also settle into other conversations about Owen’s work, my parents, and Jocelyn. We reminisce about his and Mack’s days at BU. We laugh a little, get serious a little, but mostly it’s casual and light, and I feel more relaxed than I have in a while.

  When we say our goodbyes, I find it hard. Owen is a part of Mack and saying goodbye to him is like saying goodbye to a piece of Mack. I know I’ll see Owen again soon, but it still hurts.

  We hug in front of the restaurant amongst the sounds of car horns and the hustle and bustle of the city. People guide past us swiftly but I don’t notice too much. I’m dealing with this goodbye.

  Owen pulls back a little and holds my face in his hands. He gently strokes my cheek but not amorously. Just as my friend. Just as Mack’s best friend. He smiles at me with only the corners of his lips lifting, and I feel a sudden tear drift from the corner of my eye.

  “Corrine, I believe in miracles. I believe that there’s someone watching over him and that he’ll be back with us soon. I have to believe that. You have to believe that and everyone else who loves him needs to believe that. If we lose hope and the belief—we really aren’t doing Mack any good. So please, Corrine, keep that belief in your heart. If not for yourself, for Mack, for Haven.”

  I swallow the rest of my tears and make a promise, and I lie. I try so hard to hold on. I know in my head I sound like a martyr, and maybe I am God dammit, but what I feel, I can’t control. I have always been cynical. I don’t want to be, but it’s in my makeup.

  My dad pulls up to the curb of the restaurant and hops out to give Owen a quick hug and pat on the back.

  “Owen, so good to see you. I’m so glad you were able to make time to see Corrine.”

  “Mr. Blanchard, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Good to see you, sir, but I need to catch my flight. Corrine, I’ll call you next week and in the meantime any news you may get, please call.” He gives me a swift kiss on the cheek and a handshake for my dad and within a flash like so many things in my life, Owen hails a cab and he’s gone.

  On the way home, Dad asks me about my lunch with Owen. My answers are short. Fine. Fine. Fine. They are my answers. A few yes’s and no’s are in there as well. But now I’m tired, and I want to sleep. I don’t want to forget my afternoon with Owen, but I still don’t kn
ow why when I see anything or anyone that has to do with Mack, my heart aches so bad for him. Seeing the people that are in his life does bring me joy but sadness is never far away.

  My dad knows me. He knows when I mumble my one-word answers I no longer want to talk. He pats my hand, and I look over at him. My dad’s handsome, warming eyes reach mine, and I feel at ease.

  “Why don’t you rest, honey. It’s a long drive home. I know you must be tired.”

  I nod then rest my head against the window of the car. I don’t want to be tired any longer. So quickly. I just want to think of Mack and his face. So I close my eyes and think back about the summer before we went to college. The time after Mack saved me, and how that summer Mack changed my life forever.

  MACK & CORRINE ~ END OF JULY 2003

  This summer has been an unexpectedly fun one. All with the exception of a few panic attacks in the middle of the night. I’m learning how to control them, but not without Mack, and soon we’ll be at different schools. If I have one, I just throw something at his window. It’s not even a matter of him opening his window and asking me what the problem is. Once I had the fourth one, he just uses his key and comes in the back porch door, up to my room, on my bed, and we talk. He strokes my hair, and makes me think of something else to relieve my mind of what happened with Mark the night of the prom. I eventually fall asleep and when I wake up, he’s gone. I do get a few looks from people who went to the same school as Mark, but for the most part, no one knows the truth. They think we got into a fight, and now I’m the prude who wouldn’t fuck Mark on prom night. And I’m fine with that. Mark’s already gone to his college on some summer program so he’s not around.