[ June, 2002 ]

TERRY

She works a room like no one I've ever seen. Don't even think she realizes what she's doing, that she has this way about her that makes people like talking to her. She asks questions to get them talking and then just lets them go on. I know men walk away from being with her in these settings and feel like they're the smartest, most entertaining man they've ever been.

I love to watch her when she's like this. That smile. The way she laughs and it sounds like a woman's laugh. It's like you just know she's read the joke on several levels and that at least one of them is wicked.

This is a different Ann. In social settings when she's there with me to help on firm business, these people don't get the real her. No, that's not right. They get the real her, they just don't get all of her. They get the her that she thinks is sanitized enough to be a good corporate wife for me. Not that she's ever going to be the typical corporate wife. I like that about her. Like that she has a different take on life.

She has made my life interesting; she makes me see things in a different way. She can be so fucking frustrating and obstinate. She can be fun and caring at the same time. She's also got these sides to her that she only feels safe showing me. People who don't know her well never would believe. But it's been a year since I've met her and she has let me inside just like I've tried to let her inside.

I am watching her hard this evening. I'm watching the whole fucking room because I am not at all comfortable with what's been happening in her life. It's why I catch that bit of unfocused look in her eyes and I know that she's retreated inside herself. And she honestly thinks I don't know that her mind's on DC rather than New York.

Not that she's the one who told me about what was happening in DC while I was in London last week. No. That would have been too easy and too un-Ann. She'd much rather make a rash decision that places her at risk all for a principle.

Her eyes blink into focus, she laughs at some joke and I see her hand rest on the elbow of a runt with a corporation that's one of our firm's biggest clients. We're here at this corporation's 25th anniversary celebration. We're supposed to be schmoozing. Dino would have been here with Heather but we decided it was better this way ... and then I lied to Annie, told her Dino had something come up and we had to come here instead of them. Last minute change of plans, I'd told her.

She tried to pretend she was angry, that I was once more imposing on her work, forcing her to take off with me again just because I'd be in the States. Truth was, though, she was relieved by how safe she felt to be with me and out of DC. Even if she wouldn't tell me. She knew I'd never let anything happen to her when I was around.

And that was it, wasn't it? I wasn't always around. And with my job taking me off for weeks at a time and hers keeping her busy, it seemed like we were not the kind of union I'd imagined I'd have with a wife. Not that I expected or wanted her to be like my first wife. Most of the time, anyway.

I just hadn't expected that what had seemed a pretty simple, ordinary job for her had turned into more. Why she wouldn't see that she didn't need to keep working full time irritated me. More than that, I hated the way she let her job get in the way of us spending time together. And for it to now be her job that was making me also realize that she was determined to be independent from me in this way ... not telling me about the danger she was in like she thought it wasn't my business more than anyone else's? Jesus.

The runt's now got his hand rubbing over her hand as she's listening to some story he's telling and I can see his move coming like he shouted it out to me. She's trying to be polite and he's about to be rude.

"Mind if I steal my wife, mate?" I say to him and I try hard to make it pleasant. But I can see by the look on her face that I missed the mark just as clearly as it showed that he knew I hadn't missed him making a move on her.

"Of course, Terry! I didn't mean anything by ..."

"Course not, mate. You wouldn't dare." Give him a grin and he actually looks like he wants to buy it.

I guide her away and she's ready to give me a bollocking. She's waiting until we are out of earshot of the clients. She'll launch into how I'm there to score business not points. But I don't let her. I snag two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and walk out on the balcony, knowing she'll follow. Before she can say anything, I'm pressing both glasses into her hands and then putting my hands around her waist and drawing her into a soft kiss.

"You look beautiful tonight, baby. Did I remember to tell you that?"

"That was ... What?" She blinks and looks at me ... first real smile I've seen on her all night. "No, you didn't forget. You always know I'm shallow enough to need to hear that I still look good to you. Damn but you are so fucking sexy when you're this way with me."

"How about I get us a room here? We can go take a break and I'll show you again how good you look to me." I pull a glass from her and sip it, studying her, seeing the way she actually thinks about what we'd be doing. Decide to press hard on her, keep her off balance. "My job to keep you warm. Your job to keep me hard. You're doing yours. Am I doing mine, Annie?"

That stutter breath she does and the way she can't keep her eyes from dropping down to examine me. No one's around so I take advantage of this by pressing her up against the wall and leaning over her. Let her feel me as I let my groin graze against her thigh. Let her remember that I have never in my life been with another woman who can make me start getting hard quicker than she does.

And just when she's wondering how she's going to make it all the way back to Manhattan from where this party's being held on Long Island, I slip the keycard for the hotel we're standing in out of my pocket. She takes one look at it and I know she's wet. I can smell it and I can see her excitement blooming in the way she licks her lips and lets her hand rub me.

She used to be a lot more timid about these kinds of displays in public. Not that I want full public displays but I don't mind at all that people get a good idea of what we might be up to. I don't mind, for instance, that we're walking out of that ballroom and heading for the elevators and we're focused so intently on each other ... and anyone looking can probably spot the evidence of my erection even in this perfectly tailored tux.

We're inside the room maybe five minutes later. I try to be careful with her dress because she's gonna have to wear it in the taxi back to our Manhattan hotel in the morning. But I rip the zipper just a bit. Any other woman would probably go ballistic; the sound of the rip seems to turn her on.

I want to just look at her when I've got her nude. I tell her to go find something on the radio for us and I sit on the side of the bed and just watch her move. When she turns back to me, I'm stroking myself in time to this soft jazz. Then she crawls in my lap as I fall back onto the mattress with her in my arms. She wants comfort but won't tell me. She wants to feel safe.

So I love her safe because I can.

I would give her my life to keep her safe.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask her later when she is cuddled up to me. Knowing instantly I shouldn't have said anything but I do because in this moment with her, I am so open. Something about the way she looks at me, like I am all that matters to her.

"Tell you what?"

"The fucking emails, Annie."

She tries to move away from me, but I hold on. "This is why," she whispers and when she sees how much she confuses me, she says, "Because you have more important things to worry about than some freak emailing me. I don't want you having to worry about me when you're gone."

"Jesus, Annie. There's nothing more important to me than you. Tell me you know that. Who the fuck do you think I'm doing this all for if not for you?"

"That's not what I meant. It's just that ... this isn't a real threat. And I turned it over to the cops and no one else thinks ..."

"I don't give a fuck what anyone else thinks. Somebody is sending you emails like this and you didn't tell me first? And it sure as fuck is a real threat. The fucker's watching you, Annie. He knows where you work. Probably knows where you live. He sure the fuck seems to know where you're scheduled to be next week. He could get to you so easy."

"How did you find out?"

"I found out. That's all that matters. You should have told me." Thank Christ for the fact Dino knows her publisher. One thing that's always worried me about Annie ... in her past, she's done things that are rash and self-destructive beyond belief and when Dino had told me about this threat to her, the fact that she hadn't said anything to me had convinced me that she might have been on the verge of doing something she'd really regret in her eagerness to not appear to be weak or caving in to a threat.

"Is this why you came back? You came back just for me?"

She honestly seems shocked that I have come here for her. Damn. That twists me. I wrap her up in my arms. "Didn't you know that I'd drop everything and come back if you'd told me? If something ever happened to you ... Annie, you're taking some time off until ..."

"No." I let her go so I can look at her and she's got a fire in her eyes. There's a part of me that loves it when she gets ramped up like this. "Whoever the hell is doing this to me is not going to get me on the run, Terry. No way. And they'll track the bastard down eventually. But I'm not running. I'm staying right with my schedule and let him try something."

"You are not keeping to any fucking schedule. You will do as I say in this. Hear me? Until they find the fucker, you will stay with me and I will make sure you are safe. No discussion."

"You are not ..."

"No fucking discussion. None."

"You cannot treat me like ..."

"Like you matter more to me than anything else in my life?" I whisper it out to her. My own fear out there between us now. Her eyes are huge as she absorbs my emotional response to this. And I may be a bastard, but I do know all her soft spots and I know how to manipulate her when I need to, so I use that and go for the jugular. "Remember me? The man who loves you? I couldn't take it if I lost you. I will never let anything bad happen to you. I promised you that when I married you. Remember?"

And now it's her wrapping me up. Her arms around my neck and she's giving me shaky words and I know she wants to not cry even though she is. But she gets it now. This isn't just about her. This is about us. We are two united against all comers only sometimes I think she forgets that.

ANN

They say that the first year of marriage is typically the most difficult because it is always a struggle for two people to become one.

Now toss that little nugget of truth in with what happens when it's two incredibly strong-willed people who have every intention of getting it right but who nonetheless find that compromise is not something they're that familiar with. It seems to me that the more into this I get, it just seems like it's less about compromise and more about one of us giving in to the other.

God. That sounds horrid. It's really just some things. It's not everything.

He is the most wonderful man I've ever known. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't learn one more new thing about him to cherish and to admire.

But his will to have me turn into his wife clashes with my will to be his partner. I hope that makes sense; he doesn't see it. He has these rigid views on what he seeks in life -- I keep feeling like I'm failing him but I'm fighting him anyway.

Here's the thing on this. He's actually a lot more torn over what he wants out of this marriage than he tries to pretend. And I'm a hell of a lot more willing to work to make this right for us both. I think it's because we've each been married before and we're both aware that marriage takes work. And for the right thing, you have to work it out.

But I'm also not about ready to be just 'the wife.' I have worked hard for the career I have and I love what I do. I wouldn't be the woman he fell in love with if I wasn't like this. Besides, I just can never put myself in a position of being utterly dependent on someone else. He says he understands this; he professes it to me.

However ... he sometimes seems to forget.

Sometimes, it seems like he's wanting to browbeat me into not working. He'd so much rather I stay at home to be available to him whenever he's not working. He wishes I had the kind of flexibility you never have when you have a normal job. He gets all demanding with wanting me to just take off work without much notice so I can fly to meet him somewhere or go with him on any of his trips that don't entail active operations. He just doesn't seem to understand what it's like for me ... I don't get enough vacation hours to just take off whenever. I have work that has to be done by a deadline for publication.

I keep telling him, we're going to adjust. It just takes time and work on both our parts. I remind him what he told me when he convinced me to elope ... if we want it bad enough, we'll find a way to make it work. And we do want it bad enough.

Because he's worth any amount of work.

Neither of us feels like settling into the kind of marriage that would be considered traditional. We'd get bored with each other if we had something too normal.

The time we do have together is intense and focused. We shove in every bit of living we can. We find novel ways to be together ... even if it means both hopping planes to meet halfway between where he is and where I am on a Friday night only to turn around and head back to our respective locations on a Sunday night. Even if it means that phone sex has become of real importance to us. Even if it means that sometimes I conspire with him to find a story near where he's working or traveling so I can spend time with him and no one's ever the wiser.

And when we are home in DC at the same time ... it is as if every bit of time apart helps make the time together that much sweeter.

As much as I know he loves me, and as much as I can understand the way he loves me, it still floored me that he'd taken off from his job just to come make sure I was safe. He had somehow found out about these threats some bozo had started emailing me the week before.

He had so many more important and legitimate things to worry about than my safety. But ... to see firsthand that he'd not hesitated at coming to keep me safe even when it was something this absurd? I don't exactly know why, but it's like in that one moment, I truly knew we were one. We were united against the world.

I loved him that night so hard and so complete. I took the power of what he made me feel and used it to show him the power of what I felt. On the drive back into Manhattan the next morning, I was holding his hand in mine and we were both lost in thought. Staring out opposite windows.

"Why don't you come with me?" I suddenly asked him.

"Where?"

"Tupelo, Mississippi."

Our eyes met. His were amused at the ridiculous suggestion. He shook his head at me and looked out my window.

"Seriously."

"Not a good idea, Ann. Your little secret admirer knows where you're going. He doesn't want you there."

"He's a coward. He just doesn't like the stories I've been doing on this campaign. But it's important to me that I not back down. I have to do this, Terry. It's like ... like if I don't then I'm letting some coward control my ability to report freely, like I should. Can't you see how wrong that is? But if you came with me ...he'd never try anything if he realized I had someone with me who could handle him. Don't you think?"

"Yeah, love, I do think. But you're not thinking at all. This is a bad idea. You do not go and court some lunatic to make good on his threats. That's the last we're talking about it. Hear me?"

By the time we got to our hotel in Tupelo two days later, the sun had long since set and Terry had missed his first chance to really see how this land of cotton and dirt looked. I was up at dawn and sitting in the coffee shop attached to the hotel, talking with two local farmers who'd had the misfortune to be trying to have their breakfast when I came in searching for local color.

That's something I'd learned at that first rinky-dink newspaper I'd worked at. When in farmland and needing interviews with the common folk, it was best to understand that the men had two general gathering spots where they'd talk politics and gossip: mornings in the hotel coffee shop and nights in the local bar. They were easy to talk to in either location, but in the mornings, I had to put up with a lot less crude come-ons and suspicion just to get a few honest and telling quotes about how people were feeling about things.

Now, as for the women ... don't take this as elitist ... one thing that was true about most of these small towns is that the women would rarely if ever allow me to quote them on political things. They'd tell me, 'oh, don't ask me, honey. Ask my husband. He's the one who pays attention to such things.' Bah.

So I was talking to these two old coots and they were busy enjoying educating this Little Miss Reporter on the way things are in the big old world of their little town when the Bodyguard comes stalking through the doors. I couldn't help my giggle at his expression.

Every single person inside that coffee shop clocked him from a mile away as a city boy who didn't belong. If they only knew that he probably could fit in here better than I could.

I slipped into the booth opposite Terry after giving my two interview subjects a good old boy goodbye. His head tilted to the side as he asked me if I thought that I was amusing him by sneaking away from our hotel room. But before he was able to launch into me, the waitress was pouring him coffee and calling him "Shoog," as in short for 'sugar.'

And I called her "Darlin'" in that way that let my accent come out full force. In this town one morning and already making friends because they thought I was nothing but a sweet little gal from their neighboring state of Louisiana.

Oh, but, Terry opened his mouth and out came that sexy Australian voice and let me tell you, Darlin' was in love. L.O.V.E. Love! And that was before he really turned on the charm.

After he changed into clothes more suitable for working in this town ... jeans and a polo shirt ... we drove around to scout a few locations where the candidate for Governor was going to be visiting the next day. And it was Friday down South so that evening, I made a beeline for the football field at the local high school. There, we found the town assembled for the weekly game.

I introduced Terry to the foibles and fun of high school football in the deep South. The most well-attended religious event of the week. The place you learned the town's identity. He tried to act bored but his eyes were constantly on every person anywhere near us. He ridiculed the sport of American football and I love him in this mode so I was having a blast arguing with him.

Up in the stands, we settled in to watch the game. I listened to the talk around us. The Governor, running for his political life and doing a marathon around small towns like this in his state, was coming in the next day. And what he was going to find would surprise him ... and he might not have liked that someone like me on a national publication was writing about the fact that this was in many ways an election that was foretelling just how the Democratic Party was losing ground while the Republicans were making inroads ... but nonetheless it was important to note that in a way that ordinary people would understand the implications of this race.

It was a good story for me. It was as much analysis of local races that held regional or national trend implications as it was about the human angle. It wasn't exactly the kind of down and dirty political reporting I'd once done for the daily, but it was challenging me to think on a higher level than I had before.

By the time we'd left the game, I'd made friends with people around us. Having Terry along ended up being good cover. He seemed to be getting into a fun, relaxed mood.

Turned out that the hot spot for adults that evening would be the local barbecue joint. So when the game was over, we headed there. On the way, Terry started trying to imitate the accents of the people he'd talked to in the stands. It was horrible ... because it was perfect.

"You're awful!" I shrieked as I laughed at him.

"You like this, don't you? Working on this story, it matters to you?" he asked suddenly.

I turned to catch his warm smile at me as he drove us along the town's main drag. "Yeah. I do like it and it does matter. To me, it's important to shine a light on things like this because it keeps the public involved in controlling their government."

"I liked watching you tonight. Brought back memories. Know what I mean?"

My mind flashed to how we'd met. With me on the job. With me having to break through his distrust of reporters before he'd talk to me. Trust me. Take a chance on telling me stuff. "Sure do. Good memories. But then, most of my memories of my time with you have been good."

We drove on in silence but as he parked at the barbecue place, I squeezed his hand. "Terry? Thanks for coming with me. Thanks for making it possible for me to do this."

"No worries, love." But belying his glib response, he was leaning over to me and kissing me with real meaning. Lord but if those headlights of an approaching car hadn't swept over us just then ... well, I never had really been able to resist him. And when he was in full protection mode, feeling like his entire focus had to be on the one person most difficult for him to control? He would never have let me down. Ever.

The music was coming loud from the jukebox when we walked in. The locals watched us take our seats and only seemed to relax when we took our first sips of the long necks. Cold watery beer that tasted like wonder.

I sat there getting this slight buzz on and watched Terry digging into the ribs and beans and slaw. But he never fooled me again that night. He was on guard. Every man who came near our table must have felt the danger he oozed out.

After dinner, he waited somewhat patiently for me while I moseyed over to the bar and engaged a few of the bigger talkers in the joint. Got some interesting observations and knew I had the lead quote from this one geezer who compared this Governor's style to what old time down home politics used to be here.

At the table, I plopped down in my seat and went to grab for my long neck ... but at my now-cleared place at the table, there was this little box. Deep midnight blue. Plush and velvet. Round. A familiar pattern of a moon inlaid on the top.

It was the box in which I'd found the first gift from him. I'd hung on to this box and it was among my most cherished possessions. Terry always made fun of me for that, but I knew he secretly enjoyed that I felt that way. It was a cheap box that most people would have thrown away after retrieving the pearl earrings he'd hidden inside it. But not me. I clung to things he gave me that had real sentiment. And this one forever held the wonder of new love within it.

I glanced up at him and grinned in confusion. "What's this?"

"Dunno."

"Of course you know! Don't lie to me. You put it here."

"Open it. Quit fucking around," he growled out at me, trying to appear all gruff and stern as his eyes examined some new arrival coming through the door.

I peeked inside the box. "Oh my God. Terry. Why ... you remembered?"

Just his eyes came back to me and he tilted his bottle back and sipped.

"I didn't mean it that way. Of course you'd remember. I'm just so ... touched." I picked up the bracelet he had inside the box. The bracelet was subtle gold filigree; a small Panamanian coin was strung upon it. I asked him to put it on me. His big fingers made delicate work on the clasp. And then they lingered on the underside of my wrist. Lightly caressing my skin there over the pulse point while he looked right in my eyes.

"A year ago today, someone I will always love walked into my life. How could I ever forget what today is?" he said.

I felt tears threatening to spill and he handed me a napkin before they cascaded down my face. Had to bite my lips together to keep from just sobbing right there. It was just this way he had ... he wasn't a gushy man but he would tell me things so plainly sometimes that I knew they were from his big heart.

In that one moment, I felt we both saw our life plainly. That adjusting to the reality of day-to-day life together was a challenge but it was one we were up to. I saw our path so clearly ... we would be together and we'd better start remembering to focus on that.

In the hotel room, I gave him my gift. I'd tucked it in my suitcase to make sure I had it to give him on this day, and had actually been just the least bit uncertain how he'd take it. I had figured he'd not remember what the day was ... it still surprised me that he was a lot more sentimental than I'd expect. I had wanted to give him something that he could always have with him. It was a tiny book of poems that he could tuck inside his suitcase and take with him on his travels.

It was written by a man to his wife after she'd died. Now, they may sound morbid, but they weren't. They were a testament to undying love and the way it's the little things you remember most about someone when they're away from you. So when he was away from me, I wanted him to always take this book with him because I hoped that, in times of loneliness, inside its pages, he'd find comfort in remembering the little things of our life together.

Because in and amongst the book's bound pages, I'd tucked small pieces of marbleized paper. Written upon those pieces of paper were little stories of my remembrances of our times together. Each one was inspired by some emotion in the poem they were near. But every one of them was about a small moment between us. Like the time we'd gone driving down to Williamsburg and had gotten lost but spent the most glorious spring day wandering around a flea market and our biggest purchase was a bag of apples. Like the day he'd shown me his movie on video ... the next night, we'd gone to a bar and he'd told me this funny story about his first few days at boot camp. Like the time I'd gotten a tiny raise at work and I couldn't wait to share the news with him because nothing seemed great until we shared it. Like the water fight we got into while trying to clean his car one Saturday - and yes, I did lose that one, big time!

Like how he sends me flowers whenever he's gone because he wants me to have a reason to smile. And how no matter where he goes in the world, he always brings me back something that can only be gotten there ... whether it's a rock, or a coin, or a stamp, or a seashell ... because he wants me to know he was thinking of me. Like the look on his face when he came home with me and ate his first link of boudin at Johnson's Grocery near Mamou. Like how that visit was supposed to be sad but because he was with me, attending my cousin's funeral ended up being restorative to my peace of mind.

So many memories in such a short period of time. The good so far outweighed the bad that we said it at almost the same time - why had we let ourselves get so focused on the trivialities of real life rather than just celebrating our good fortune to have found each other?

We didn't do much talking that night. We made love and took our time with it. In the morning, he woke me early and he woke me with an urgent need for me. This time, he talked to me ... told me what he would be doing right before he'd do it. And just as I was coming, he told me we'd always love each other. Not a promise; more like it was foreshadowing the future.

When I came walking out of the shower, my mind was on work. I had two hours before I had to be at the first campaign appearance and I wanted to get there early to be sure I scouted the best location. Leo, our photographer, had arranged for a local stringer to shoot the first function, which was a meeting of the local chamber of commerce. My hand was reaching for my cell because I wanted to call the stringer and let him know what time I'd be there ...

"Is that my laptop?" I asked Terry and he just looked at me with the gravest look in his eyes. He slid it around so I could read the screen. "You went into my email? What the ..."

And then I realized ... my email stalker. "He's here. He's watching you."

"My God. That's crazy," I said ... I'm always so astute when reading some nut's note detailing what I was wearing the night before and where I was staying and the man I was with ... and telling me I had made a mistake by coming there. "Terry, I swear to you, this is a nothing story. I mean, it's not inflammatory, there should be no enemies ... why someone wants me off it is ..."

"Insane?" Saying it snide and blowing out cigarette smoke as he tilted his head and pursed his lips. "Right. You can see, this ups the ante, right? Now he's making an overt threat. We turn this over to the FBI now."

"Let me just finish the day's coverage and then we can go home. Just give me this one day and ..."

"Okay."

"I mean, I just have to do this, Terry. We can't let this guy make us run scared and you're right here so ... Wait. Did you say 'okay'?"

"Get dressed. I've already talked to Dino. His guys have tracked your email sweetie and know who he is. Now we need to flush him out. You'll just go about your day like you'd planned, no deviations because he seems to know your schedule pretty well. There are two FBI agents who'll be shadowing us, especially at the campaign function. Then when he ... Stop standing there looking at me, Annie. Go. Get your arse in gear. C'mon."

Muttering to him as he clapped his hands at me: "Wait. I don't understand ... what's going on?"

"You didn't really think Dino or I were going to sit around and let some fucker threaten you, did you? He's been working with the feds on this since he found out about it. Stop looking at me and get dressed."

So this was how I found out that all these things had been set in motion to be not just sure I'd be okay, but that they'd put a stop to whoever this was. And put a stop to it, they did. He never got near me. Once Dino's computer geeks tracked down the stalker, Dino'd called in the case to a friend at the FBI who ended up tracking the stalker to Memphis about the same time Terry and Dino were letting the agent know about that morning's email. They arrested the stalker in a motel room not far from ours about the time the candidate was making his first speech.

Terry didn't give me any details until we were on a plane home. All he'd said at the time was that I should concentrate on my job because they had the stalker. When I asked, finally, who he was, it wasn't anyone I even knew. I don't know why that surprised me, but I just assumed that anyone who went to that much trouble would have known me. All the guy did was hate this story I did in the last edition of the magazine that he interpreted to mean I was involved in some plot and that I had hidden messages in the article. He figured he had to frighten me out of writing any more stories.

Turned out, he really was crazy. He was some middle-aged guy who lived with his mom and hadn't held a job in years. Crazy but smart. A computer nerd. He heard voices. He believed there was a massive conspiracy. And he hated everything he thought threatened him. Me included.

It took me days to really sleep again. Terry stayed with me the whole time. And if he hadn't gotten tough with me, I would have quit my job and never left our home again. But Terry finally gave me this rollicking, nasty tirade about how the woman he'd married would never have let something like this do anything but piss her off. How if I didn't get my shit together, he was taking off where he could be doing something useful.

Tough love, eh?

At first, it had hurt my feelings and I cried for hours, huddled in the bathroom and refusing to do anything but feel totally alone. And then I got really really pissed at Terry. And when I was standing there yelling at him and calling him every name in the book and telling him that he didn't know shit about me and swearing by all that was holy that no one was gonna scare me from doing my job ... all that time, he acted like he wasn't listening to me.

And it wasn't until it was all over and I was spent from the emotional release that he came and held me ... and told me he was proud of me. And I told him that I needed time with him. Time ... our enemy.

I took a week off work and went with Terry on a junket he had to make to Japan. I went with him to social functions and too many quasi-business meals with executives from two companies that were big clients of TOL. The eyes that watched him on this trip were different.

I saw new things that I'd just not noticed before. For all that I'd admired him on the job when I'd first met him, somehow it was in knowing him better that I was really able to see just how good he really was.

Terry had that ability to make people believe in him. He shows that honor and resolve that make you know that he wouldn't say anything just to shine you on. So when he says that he'll find a way, you believe him. More than that, you believe that where others might not find a way, he will.

Perhaps that's why I've always believed in him. He isn't perfect; I'd be bored with perfection.

We all need heroes in life. I'm just lucky enough to have married one.