[ August, 2004 ] 

TERRY

Big airports tend to all look the same when you're on business. Going someplace on a bit of vacation, you're looking around you at things like it's an adventure and you see the little touches that set one big airport off from another. But passing through a lot of airports while your mind's on business, all you really see is that you're there working. You take a certain amount of grim comfort from the uniformity.

It's the same way with commercial planes. Unless it's some puddle jumper, there's not that much difference inside one tube than another. Maybe a few more seats across the width, maybe a bit of deep blue where the last one had deep burgundy colors. The seats feel about the same.

And the flight attendants are pretty much the same wherever you go. Not that they don't look like individual women or men, just that there's a certain institutional sameness.

"Can I get you another cocktail, Mr. Thorne?"

Is this why I was musing on stews? Because this one here was smiling down at me with that calm, attentive way they have in first class? I was getting to recognize some of the ones on this run between DC and San Juan. This was ... what? ... the fourth time in three weeks? Dino kept accusing me of having ulterior motives for making this trip the last two times. We both knew the team we had in place down in Ponce could deal with setting up the security net for our newest client.

Maybe I did have an ulterior motive.

"Same, love," I said to the flight attendant and gave her a smile. I watched her walk away from me and grimly enjoyed the way that walk stirred something inside.

Ulterior motive. Yeah. Like it was such a bad thing? But I just couldn't stay in one place long. I didn't have a reason anymore. Except that when I kept moving, I forgot if I was heading somewhere or leaving somewhere. Besides, I'd ignored work for too long anyway. Work was proving to be the one thing that helped. It gave me a focus and a purpose. I needed that.

I looked out the window at clouds. I was thinking about everything I'd have to do to move from DC. It seemed like a good answer. Too many memories there. I just needed out of DC as a permanent residence and maybe then I'd be able to stay home for longer than one or two nights. I think Dino understood even if Heather asked me questions that made me feel edgy and unable to explain to myself what was really behind this. But moving to London might be the best answer. Or maybe we should open an office in Miami. I smiled at that thought. Miami. When I'd mentioned the idea to Ann, she preferred Miami to London for me because she said she'd love having an excuse to come there every so often. She'd gone on to riff about the reasons Miami would be better when I said I thought London suited me more ... she had gotten as far as the bit about how I could have an office right on the beach so that every day I was there, I could look out my window and stare down at women who were barely dressed and sweating in the sun.

In a way, maybe that's just what I needed. Nameless women to stare at. I had had enough complications in my life to last me. Maybe simplifying my life was the answer. Boiled down to its barest levels, it was this: work and family. Work was not just my priority but it was what was keeping me sane and keeping me moving forward.

Family. What a thought.

"Here you go, Mr. Thorne. Will that be all? Let me clear some of this out of your way," the attendant said. I watched her gather an unused napkin and wipe up the remnants of a melting ice cube from the tray. Her other hand was casually glancing against my wrist that lay on the arm wrest. And then she sunk down to her haunches in the aisle so we'd be eye level. She gave me such a sweet smile and her eyes danced for me. "Will there be anything else you'd be needing before the flight ends?"

My eyes held hers and I didn't want to let go. Before she rose, I'd written down her cell number and we'd arranged where we'd be meeting for dinner that night in San Juan.

I watched her walk away again and I grinned back at her when she glanced my way just before disappearing inside their service area.

That little glance back at me ... like she knew what I was up to ... it reminded me of Heather for just this one moment. The way she'd looked at me the last time I'd been over there. Dino'd been ragging on me about my schedule and I'd given him no response. The redhead hates it when I do that. Infuriates him. He'd walked out of the room and I'd looked up to apologize only he was gone but Heather was walking past on her way into the kitchen. When you're ready, I'm here to listen, she had said when I'd left that night. I frowned at the memory of that way she has of knowing me a bit too fucking well. What the bloody hell would I do without her in my life right now? A good friend who worries about me.

But she's not the only friend who's worried about me. Annie worries, too. She just does it in a different way. I worry about her as well. She had been closing in upon herself a lot like I have been. But where I can hide within work and a mission that keeps me focused on others, she'd taken to leading a reclusive life in a small house out in the country in Louisiana. She said she needed that in order to have peace in her life. But lately, I can see some changes.

She's kidding herself but she doesn't fool me. Still, she's been there for me every time I've needed someone who doesn't need any explanations. And sometimes when she calls out of the blue and says she just needs my opinion or advice, I get the sense it's her way of allowing me to care for her. Like she knows that helps me because without connections to her, Dino and Heather, I am not sure I'd be much more than a roboton.

Most times, though, I know it's because Annie really does need me to be there for her. She's still feeling lost and when I'm most honest, I can say this: I know how she feels. More than anything, I think the fact she still needs me is one thing that keeps me tethered in a world where I am drifting into a man I never wanted to be again.

Watching out for her has become another mission for me. I don't talk about her much to either Heather or Dino. They think it was a good thing she moved out of the house I'd shared with my wife. There's a part of me that knows that's true. But I feel responsible for her in the same way I hope my counterpart is checking up on my Ann who's lost to me now in that other world. Although, I suppose, she's probably better off under Jack's protection. There's a man who can be trusted.

Heather seems resentful that this other Ann remains such an important part of my life. I think I know why. She and my Ann were close friends; in a lot of ways, Heather's protecting my Ann's turf. It's confusing.

But she doesn't know this other Ann. It's not like that at all. They are a lot alike, the two Ann's I've known. But they are not the same. At their core are major attributes that are very much alike. But there are so many differences. Each were shaped by different pasts. I like both of them. A lot. But I don't compare them. How could you? It would never be fair and it just doesn't work that way. At least, not for me.

That night, I'm laying in the bed in some woman's hotel room, and I'm feeling okay. Better than okay, right? What do I have to feel guilty about? Got a beautiful, warm woman wrapped up tight after we've made love. I'm slowly smoking a cigarette and looking out at stars over San Juan.

This isn't a bad life.

It sucks that my wife was lost to me. I'm not kidding around about that. But I've got a company I live for, a partner who gets on my tits, two other great friends, a nephew who thinks I'm almost as good as his dad, another niece or nephew on the way, and ...

Christ.

The family.

Haven't thought about them in forever.

I shift in the bed and this woman ... Julia ... a name that sounds good on a man's tongue ... she shifts out of my hold and retreats to the softness of a pillow. I watch her sleep and my mind's seeing different members of the family.

Lachlan. Wonder if his life's settled at all? Bud. I smirk at the memory of Ann saying she couldn't believe he'd turned out to be such a sleaze in this world. Makes me laugh when I think of her face when she said that.

And then I think of her face when she told me how badly she felt about what had happened to Jack. Jack. Who'd have believed a man like that ... someone to be admired for his courage and his integrity ... would have made such mistakes with the witch Isobel? I had wondered if she'd go to him ... this Ann. She had loved him in that other world; I had thought she'd hook up with him again in this one.

But it hadn't happened like that. She had flown to Plymouth to check up on him but she told me later that while a part of her had hoped they might fall instantly in love, it just never was the same for her. I didn't ask why. But there was this part of me ... I am not proud of how I felt ... so inappropriate ... it was as if I was competing with Jack. I was not. But I was pleased for some reason; like I felt proprietary for this Ann like I had the other one. Guess that's understandable.

Last time I'd talked to Ann, she'd mentioned a recent letter from Jack. She said it had made her cry but that it had been a good cry. They'd been exchanging letters for months; his were always pages long and told her tales of what he was doing. This time, in and amongst the tales was news that had made her happy for him. He'd met this woman named Angelique. French. A classical pianist. She was proving to be a tricky, tempting delight who had Jack merrily in pursuit after meeting her at a concert in which she'd been none too pleased when, in the midst of her performance, he and Stephen had gotten into an argument over Jack's insistence on beating the rhythm on his knee and disturbing Stephen's concentration.

At least someone in the family was finding new life.

Turning to look at Julia, I watched her breathing. In. Out. Simple patterns of life. And it lulled me into this place where I thought about my own foray to find out if the past could presage the future for me. Just as Ann had tested her feelings for Jack, I had strongly considered a future with Uma.

It had made abundant sense to me. My wife was gone. Uma's marriage was over. There had been something very strong, very beautiful between us. And for many lonely nights, I had toyed with this one thing: when we had shared that last time together, we had toyed with the possibility it was love between us.

But after what had happened in the wake of that day, we could never have faced each other again and built a relationship on the embers of the ruins of other lives.

I am not that kind of man. Uma is not that kind of woman.

And there is also the other ever-present reality. My wife may be gone from this world. But Max is not dead. He is not gone from this world. And the real deal is this: Uma loves him and not anyone else.

Still ... even in the face of that, the white knight that lives inside me tried hard to convince me that I should still find Uma. He said that I owed this to her -- I might not have been able to help my wife, but maybe I could help the other woman I should have found the way to save in the aftermath of the disaster I helped create that took down the lives of four people.

Ultimately, there was the reality of what I have always known: if Uma had wanted me in her life, she would have contacted me by then. She knew I would always be there for her. She had obviously chosen a future that moved her forever beyond our family.

Who else in the family did I even care to wonder about? I wasn't that close with most of them. Of course, Dino and Heather were constants in my life. Always would be. No getting rid of me ... like a bad penny, I always turned up on their doorstep. And the fact that they were having a kid of their own? Couldn't have been happier for them. When I was with them, I did my best to hide how I felt some pangs of jealousy to see them having rebounded from the disaster fomented by Isobel. But I bloody needed them to be happy. It made so much worthwhile.

Let's see. Was the rest of the family recovering from the shit that had happened after the Gathering? We got the Oz contingent ... I can feel the frown on my face. Somehow I knew they'd probably be causing problems but I didn't find myself caring that much. There was also the American gents ... Alex, Nash, Biebe, Zack, Steve ... I imagined they were quietly going about their lives. They were relatively close to each other; they'd be supportive during this time of rebuilding.

And that pretty much left us with the big daddy-o ... the Generalissimo ... Maximus.

"You planning on spending the night?" Julia mumbled to me in this irritated voice as I nestled in against her warm body and ran my hand along her side until I could cup her sex.

Guess I'd been shifting about a bit too much for her liking. I got up and dressed in the dark. Bent down to kiss her before I left and then thought better of it.

As I walked to my hotel, I couldn't get Max out of my brain. Dino'd been in contact with him; not that we learned too much more than that he was still at his job and he was still on his own raising Lily. And instantly, my stomach dropped and I thought about Uma again. The missing. Was she okay? Was she healing? Would her world ever right itself for her? Would she ever reach out for me if she needed help? Did I deserve that?

Unsettled and uneasy, I called Ann from my room. Why was it that I needed to know I could always reach out for her when I was down? I listened to that voice that was turning more and more to the soft cadence of her roots as she told me about her latest attempt to get lost in the swamps. That's what she called these forays she was making at least once a week. She'd started picking up old pastimes and one of them was photography. Armed with a new camera and a few lenses, she was exploring the swamps and capturing her travels on disc. She would email me the ones she liked and they were always accompanied by little make-believe funny stories about the adventures of some Cajun named Boudreaux.

There was something different in her voice that night. I couldn't put my finger on it at first. It wasn't until she started talking about the pottery classes she'd signed up for that it dawned on me. She was more and more venturing outside the safe boundaries she'd set for herself. It didn't seem like much ... but there was a sense that she was staking a new challenge.

When I made that observation to her, she got quiet. And then, this rush of words. About how she wanted to confront the lingering fear she had over the tenuous hold in this world for her. How she'd started volunteering with a couple of do-gooder organizations that were out to save the coastline and the swamp. How she was meeting new people. How she felt like maybe she was beginning to not feel like a wasted life.

"And I went on a date," she said from nowhere. I heard her laugh like it was muffled. "It was awful."

"How so, love?" But inside me, I felt this instant, totally irrational hurt. She was dating some other man?

"Well, I mean, when have I ever gotten anything right with men?"

"Stop it, Ann. I really hate how you run yourself down like that. Any man in your life is lucky to have you there ... So who is this loser?"

This time, her laughter was forced. "Someone I met in Baton Rouge when I was there doing some research. He's an environmental lawyer. He's a nice guy for a lawyer."

"Guess it's a good sign you're moving on, hey? And how do you feel about taking this step?" I didn't really want to hear all this; I didn't want to think of her dating. I don't know why. But I asked because this was one of those times when I felt like she needed me to be her sounding board. Shit. Truth is, I just hadn't expected her to date again. Tough now for me to think I'll have to listen to her tell me how wonderful it felt for her to be out loving some other man.

"I don't feel so good to date again, to be perfectly blunt. It saddens me. I guess the hardest part is admitting to myself that I really can't have the person I most want so..." She paused. I heard her clear her throat. Why did that make me smile to hear her admit? To hear the edgy tone to her voice? "Do you mind that I'm that honest with you?"

"I'd hate it if you weren't." 

"I've never known a man before who didn't make me worry that he would judge me when I admit my frailties and insecurities." Another pause. "Are you dating?"

Fuck. The way she can shift a convo on me. I thought about Julia. "No. With the schedule I keep, it'd be tough."

"Then you should make time for it. Or at least keep open to the possibility. Shit. That actually sounded like a lecture and we both know I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about!" And then she did it ... her voice got soft and intimate. I pictured her lips pressed against the phone. I could see her eyes with that look of concern. It made me feel ... better to hear her say, "I worry about you, Terry. I want you to be happy again. That's all."

"I'm doing fine, Annie." Out here where she can't see me, I winced at the false note in my voice. She let me get by with it. "So tell me about this lawyer. Does he have a bigger ..." This long pause and into it, she giggled, which was what I wanted to hear. "... car than I do?"

"No one has a bigger ... car than you, Terrence."

"That's my girl. You always did know how to stroke my fragile ego."

She gave me this snort of amusement. And then she told me about the lawyer. His name. Age. Where he worked. That even though the first date was rough, he'd already asked her out again. About what a nice guy he was. About all the good deeds he did. She was going to Baton Rouge the next day to watch him argue before some district court and then they were going out for dinner. He'd asked her to stay over in his guest room so she didn't have to drive home late at night.

Not sure what it was but I gave in to this impulse I got as I listened to her. I was joking around, telling her I didn't think what he really had in mind was for her to stay in the guest room. I have to admit, hearing her laugh sounded good after everything she'd been through. And I hadn't seen her in over a month. I simply wanted to be around her. I think now that it was because I wanted to "catch" whatever it was that was giving her the will and the desire to rejoin life. But my impulse led me to invite her to fly to New York the next week and so she could help me with some social obligations for clients Dino wanted us to woo. I had promised him I'd be there for three nights of dinner meetings he'd set up. I had planned to find a way to be needed in Ponce and dump this duty back on his shoulders. But it just suddenly appealed to me to treat Annie to some fun in the Big Apple. I'd be tied up in business most of the time we were there, I told her, but she could shop and visit museums.

Her answer was instant. "Why not. It'd be great to see you again. To remember how the other side lives ... you know, the side that's actually doing exciting things in life. I think I'm getting hopelessly boring staying down here on the bayou," she said.

"You? Boring?" She giggled at my snort of amusement. "Never."

She asked me about the current mission. I told her about it and just growled at her when she told me I was the one getting boring. But she was right. And I told Dino that the next time I saw him. I needed real field work not just management assignments. He was still resisting it. I knew why. Still didn't make it easy to take. He was worried that my emotional reserves were too low. That I'd be a liability if the stress got to me. But I convinced him that I was ready. Put it on the line ... I appreciated his concern, but I needed to test myself.

My next chance came two weeks after the New York trip. Dino sent me to Mexico to lead the team to recover three lay missionaries taken over a month earlier.

Piece of piss assignment on the front end ... tricky as all hell on the ground. The guerillas who'd taken them hadn't really wanted them; they'd only taken them because they'd thought they were tourists and there'd be easy money on the other end. Our assigned operative called in the cavalry when the ball picked up too much steam too fast.

Ever since that trip to New York, I'd felt like I'd woken up again. Like I could look in the mirror and recognize the eyes looking back out. From then on, I didn't look back. I looked around and I looked forward. In this mission, I realized one big difference between this time and those bad times before Tecala, when I'd slipped into my professional persona as a way to insulate myself from my heart: this time, the mission was reminding me I had a heart. It might have scared the fuck out of me sometimes, but I had to face the future as it came to me.

Shouldn't every man face life on its terms? In my view, there are only a few ways to live. One's with your eyes on the ground, watching careful each step you take. But when you do that, you miss opportunities you might see if you were looking around and you end up running right into obstacles that if you'd seen them earlier, you could have avoided. Another way's running so fast no one can catch up with you. Only problem with that is, it's a lonely arse life. And you miss the chance for details that way; you don't see the little things because they're nothing but a big blur as you're racing along. Then there's striding briskly with your head up. You might miss some things, but you're catching most of them. And you'll see your chances faster. Plus, let's face it, looking life and the world right in the eye and daring it to take you on ... isn't that a more fulfilling life at the end of it all?

I am who I am. We all revert to form, Ann told me not that long ago. She said she was enjoying seeing my spirit reassert itself. She said it made me more of a pain in the ass to deal with but that she rather liked opinionated, bossy Australian men now and then.

Yeah. She says that. But I'm not sure that's the truth. Because she hasn't actually spoken to me since New York. Not since I apparently proved that a part of being opinionated and bossy means I think I know what's best for her.

And all because I'd checked into this lawyer boyfriend of hers. She'd spent an entire weekend with him and had seen him the night before she flew to New York. You'd think that somewhere in that time of getting to know each other, he would have told her he was married.

Well, separated. From his second wife. And he hadn't always been some do-gooder lawyer. He wasn't such a nice guy after all, was he?

We'd had a bruising fight. She had been raving furious that I'd run a background check. What the fuck did she expect me to do? I didn't want her getting involved with someone dangerous. She might not have been one of the men in the family, but she was still a part of us and that made anyone she got close to someone we needed to be concerned about. No more repeats of any of us getting romantically involved with someone who'd threaten the rest of us. That's what I told her. She called me a... Jesus. Let's just say she called me some things that stung.

But there was no way I was ever going to forget that I was responsible for her safety in this world. No way. I don't stop worrying about people I care about just because it's inconvenient for them or me. I can't turn it off. I care about her.

In a strange way, the fight changed us ... for the better. Sound odd? Yeah. Maybe. But it's like we've never gone back to the candid friendship we used to have before that trip we'd made to London when Isobel had used her to escape from our world. Since then, we had a fine friendship, don't get me wrong. But it had become more polite than gritty real. We were maybe too nice to each other.

I don't really know how she feels. She won't really talk to me now. I've called her a few times but all she gives me back are short answers and she never confides in me anymore. Our conversations maybe last five minutes. But I think maybe this was bound to happen. We had to test the friendship again and if it's real, like I am sure it is, it will be stronger for working through a fight.

And we will do that. Work it though, I mean. I will keep after her until we do.

Next week, I leave for another round of meet-and-greets with old clients. I hate these trips. But Dino's promised me a sweet chance to finish the trip with a training course to polish up my skills with a new version of the assault rifles he's ordered for all of us as part of our gear. Just what every boy needs, right? Freedom to shoot the shit outta targets and play soldier for a few days. I'll be looking for another meaty mission to fall into my lap after that. He's promised me the next good one's mine. With Heather's pregnancy, he's more interested in sticking close to home lately. Someone's got to pick up the slack, right?

And I'm looking to break loose a bit.