[October, 2004 ]

ANN - St. Martinville, Louisiana

Phone calls in the night. I once lived a life in which phone calls in the deepest part of the night were not only something I expected, but I actually usually liked getting them. They almost always seemed to signal an adventure, a hot story, a shot of adrenaline.

But I have grown lazy. I don't know the last time I had a phone ring late at night when it wasn't a wrong number. Not unless I was expecting a call from Terry while he was out on some job in some other country and had warned me that with his schedule it was the only time we could talk.

Ain't it funny how time slips away? Just that day, I had been listening to Lyle Lovett's rendition of that song on this great CD that Terry had sent me just last month. It's a CD full of fused voices - each song features a rock performer with a country singer. The way they meld those styles and riffs into masterpieces that elevate above the genres ... he meant it to be inspiring to me. Hidden message, I think.

Another song on that CD: Ain't nothing like the real thing, baby.

When I'd heard it, I got these instant memory riffs of his take on why he had loved: because she was the real thing. Ain't nothing like the real thing, y'know? It made me smile to think of him but it also made me wistful to think of him still living his life in a way he thought she'd be proud of.

I've got your picture hanging on the wall
But it can't see or come to me when I call your name
I realize it's just a picture in a frame

 

He had become my best friend. I don't know that too many days went by without some contact between us ... phone calls, emails, IM's, cards, messages on the answering machine. We knew each other's bad moods, good times, frenetic crazy dreamy longings, lowdown dark dirty devilish bewilderments. We'd had a fight about two months ago ... a horrible argument that maybe had been inevitable considering the tension in our lives we'd been trying to pretend was getting better rather than worse ... it had shaken us both up. But then something happened about two weeks after that fight.

We had been working through it ... backing away even while we both wanted to mend the rift because we needed each other in this crazy world. And then we'd made a breakthrough. He was off on some mission and had called me. There was a quality in his voice and I had remembered that above all things, he'd been a true friend to me. I could hear it in him ... he missed the friendship between us being something we both counted on with absolute conviction. I told him I'd forgotten why we'd argued and he knew I was lying. It had tickled him. God but I love to hear him laugh like that. And ever since that moment, our friendship was real and true and the best thing I'd ever had in my life.

Time, eh? So much had happened as time slipped away. We'd mourned our losses and found that only the other one of us seemed to have the ability to make us realize we weren't alone in this world. We supported the other when grief gripped us; we mobilized each other to dig our separate ways out of the grieving for our matching losses of the people we had loved.

I honestly do not know what I would have done without him during this time and I also think if it weren't for him, I'd never have shaken those dark days off. He said he'd never had a friend quite like me before; a soft touch, a steady belief in him, a willingness to do nothing but listen when he only needed to unload, a companion when social or business occasions demanded he have someone on his arm. And, never mistake it: man like him needed to be needed. I was surprised to find how good it made me feel to need him.

And as our lives stabilized, we gave each other the permission you seem to need to look to the future with hope when there was a part of each of us that felt guilty just to smile or laugh when the enormity of our losses could still reach out and brutalize us when we least expected it. It was a comfort, pure and simple, to have someone else in the boat with you when the storms hit and you felt like you couldn't bale fast enough to keep from being swamped.

And as friends, we tried to help the other reclaim a normal life. I laughed at his jokes; he listened to the newest things that fascinated me. He told me about work; I told him about the mundane life I had claimed. We still saw each other occasionally; I was free enough thanks to him that I could pick up at a moment's notice and fly off to join him at a business function. We treated each other with care but we also had wild discussions and frank disagreements about topics as varied as sports, war, politics and the media.

We'd always sent each other flowers for no reason other than we seemed to know when they'd be something the other person would want. We always remembered each other's significant days and celebrated long distance whenever one of us had something good happen, like when Terry would sign a new client or Dino would find new cigars for them to share on their next trip together.

Friendship with Terry. Who would have believed I could feel this way? It wasn't ever like the physical attraction went away. It just ... well, I don't know ... it just ...

I read your letters when you're not here
But they don't move me and they don't groove me
Like when I hear your sweet voice whispering in my ear

So life and time ... it moved on, right? Thanks to Terry, I was secure, safe and snug. My life revolved around being alone as much as I needed. In the end, it had been the one thing I'd really wanted. He had helped make it come true. Thanks to me, he'd moved on with his life and was out there getting a new charge out of the work with Dino that he had always relished. I had helped him do that by releasing him from the way he worried over me but by also remaining there to support him as he took his first steps away from the loss of his wife.

Some things must be as they are. I'd never really been meant to be in PW and I am still not sure I was meant to be in Terra Nova. But here is where I was and at some point, I realized that it was more than just freedom to live my life ... that I had been granted the chance to start over and do things differently ... to do them in a way that made sense at that point in my life.

I play my game of fantasy
And I pretend that I don't live reality
I need the shelter of your arms to comfort me

When I'd finally realized that I wanted to grab this chance to figure out what my life could be if I really had no ties to bind me to a past I was determined would not interfere with my future, Terry had not stood in my way. He had felt the same type of urge when he'd come into this world. He did for me what his family had done for him ... he took away the financial worries that would limit my choices.

Against my protests, he split their marital assets and gave me half in cash. Stuck it in a bank, helped me figure out how to invest it ... and then set me free. He helped me move to St. Martinville, just outside of Lafayette, which was where my mother's family had come from. I never have figured out why it called me to move there rather than my beloved New Orleans. Too many memories, maybe. A fresh start's hard to make when memories are too powerful and too linked to where you'd be living, maybe.

I've got the memories to look back on
And though they help me when you're gone
I'm well aware
That nothing can take the place
Of your being there

He let me go. But he didn't really. And I'm eternally grateful that he didn't just kick me from his life.

But to be honest, he had needed the space every bit as much as I had. I had been a constant reminder to him of loss. When I was a voice on the other end of the line or a bunch of words on an IM, I was a woman he accepted was not his Ann. Even on those occasions when I was with him at a business function, I didn't overstep my bounds. We had the perfect platonic friendship.

The truth will always out, you know. There wasn't a chance we weren't going to stay connected in some way. We'd been through too much together in too many incarnations to ever believe we weren't meant to stick together in some way. That we chose friendship as the way we'd do it ... well, it was right. It was so right.

I'd been lying awake in my bed for at least a fitful hour when the phone rang that night. My mind had been on him. I figured it was because when he had called just that day to tell me he'd arrived home in DC earlier than planned, he'd said he wanted to make good on a promise. Give him at least a week or so to work through the paperwork crap that had accumulated at the office while he'd been gone and then he'd take some time off so we could go to New York to see some shows. I hated going to New York and never went unless it was because he wanted me to go with him for some special function. He had said next time we went, it would be just to mess around rather than work so he could show me the fun side of New York.

Our last conversation ... probably twelve hours earlier ... calling me from his office ... it had been raining outside here and he said he loved that I had my tin roof after all. He had teased me when I'd hunted for a house with a tin roof because I told him that if I was going to live in Cajun country, I wanted a tin roof like my granpére's house had ... the sound of the rain on a tin roof has been known to put more than one Cajun into a trance better than any mood-altering drug.

I spend most of my days alone. Any people I see, they are at arm's length ... at least metaphysically speaking ... because surrounded by good-natured people, I have adopted the old rhythms of my youth and I have remembered the way it feels to be part of a community. I dated this lawyer from Baton Rouge a few times; he'd been nice to me but there was no real spark. And then after Terry and I had gotten into an argument because Terry had done a fucking background check on him ... I don't know. I just lost all interest. Well, there was more to it, but I can deal with that.

We have discovered, Terry and I, that we are each other's lifelines in this Terra Nova. Neither of us are perhaps meant to have been here, but here we are and we have grown closer the more we've realized how "alone" our secrets force us to be. And how much we rely upon the other to be the one person we can be really open with.

The only thing I ever hid from him was how I really felt about him.

So the phone rang ...

Well, hello there. My, it's been a long time

How am I doing? Well I guess I'm doing fine ...

Late into that night ...

It's been so long now and it seems like

It was only yesterday ...

Rain had stopped outside long ago but lingering traces of it were making the air heavy ...

Ain't it funny how time slips away?

And this voice at the other end said, "Is this Mrs. Thorne? This is Dr. Anders. I'm calling from the emergency room of Georgetown University Medical Center."

My, how time slips away. Ain't it funny?

Time had slipped away from us. We'd never gotten around to finding the time to get a divorce. Technically, we were married. They'd found my name in his wallet, my number on his cell's speed dial. Next of kin.

How many times I've wondered ... and it still comes out the same.

No matter how you look at it or think of it, it's life and we've just got to play the game...

Why were lyrics from scattered songs on that CD coming to me like saviors of moments I'd never handle without some semblance of his strength with me just then?

"This is Ann Thorne, yes. What's happened?"

"Your husband was brought in to our ER and ... we're going to need you to come in as quickly as you can get here. Try not to worry; perhaps you've got a friend who can drive you so that you ..."

"What's his condition?"

"That information ... I can't give you details on the phone. You should come in. We had to put him under and we need you here to make decisions, sign permission for ..."

I've heard ER doctors say things like that before ... I knew what it usually meant.

"For what? Surgery? What? Jesus Christ, I'm in Louisiana and I cannot get there in time if this is an emergency. Just tell me ..."

"He needs surgery but..."

I've way too much experience with ER's and procedures they must follow in emergencies. I am way too good in a crisis like this. My mind was already so far ahead.

"I cannot get there in time. I will catch the next plane up. I will call his best friend, business partner ... he's more of a brother ... until I get there, he's the one to call the shots. His name is Dean O'Leary. I will call him now."

"Legally, Mrs. Thorne ..."

"You listen to me. Dean has Terry's medical power of attorney for times when I cannot be there. He is legally empowered ..."

"Calm down, that's fine."

"I'm calm. Now, tell me about Terry. Was it a car accident? What? What are his injuries? Don't let me spend the next few hours worrying if ..." A pause for me and a heart-sick whisper across the miles. "Just tell me, please."

Gunshot. Shoulder. Not life-threatening. Terry in such good physical shape. But the bullet was in a bad place and had to come out. Surgery.

That's about all I needed. I thanked him, called Dino ... never more grateful that I had luck on my side ... he was in town ... at home ... and on his way to the ER within five minutes of hanging up from me, I imagined.

What's money for if not for spending? I'd learned that from Terry once upon a time. I asked Dino to call their corporate pilot and see if he could arrange for a private jet to fly me out from Baton Rouge. Figured by the time I got to that airport, they'd have had time to make it happen. I was right. Within a half-hour of getting to Baton Rouge, I was in the air and on my way to DC.

Hours later, the sun was over the yardarm and I was walking down the stairs of the small jet. On the tarmac, there was a police car parked behind a black SUV. Dino got out of the SUV's back passenger door when I was coming down the stairs. Then he was standing there ... his red hair lit by flaming sunlight ... flanked by cops with guns ... but all I saw was his face and body language.

"Oh God. No. Please. No. Please. Oh, Dino. No." My hands instinctively covered my heart and he was with me in an instant. I was shaking my head and trying to swim to the surface.

"No, no. It's okay, Annie. Terry's fine." He said it and somehow the world seemed to go out of focus. His hands helped me sit on the bottom step of the jet's stairs. "Head between your knees, honey. That's right. Just catch your breath."

After a minute, I looked up at him. Gave him this shaky and embarrassed smile. "Well, so much for my sterling ability to deal with a crisis, eh? Don't tell Terry ... he has this mistaken notion that I'm a strong person."

His hand cupped my jaw and he gave me that serious appraisal he does. "Didn't mean to scare you, honey. You gonna be okay? We need to clear out of here."

He walked me over to the black SUV, helped me in the back seat and then climbed in the other side. Two men were in the front. Big men in suits. I looked hard at Dino as we took off. Glanced behind ... the cop car was following us.

"Terry's really okay?" I whispered to Dino. He nodded at me and took my hand. "I was so scared ... you looked so damned serious and I ... The surgery was okay?"

"Went like a charm. He's still in the hospital but should be discharged tomorrow. He woke up in a foul mood but that's to be expected, eh?"

"Yeah. Guess so." Every single thing felt shaky to me and Dino just sat there examining me intently. "What's going on, Dino? Why the police escort? And who are ..." I nodded toward the two bruisers in the front seat.

"They're all here to keep you safe, Annie."

"Me? But I'm not ... I mean ... I don't understand."

"It wasn't a random shooting or some mugging. When Terry came out of the anesthesia, first thing he told me was to protect you. This was an old enemy ... someone with a grudge ... someone not above taking out his family ... He was worried they might come after you."

"My God. This can't be happening ... Someone really tried to kill him?"

He'd thwarted the attempt on his life ... took one man out, the other winged him before he could deal with him ... both assailants now dead ... and they linked back to a man I knew in another world. But I didn't hear the name of the man until Terry told me. Until that point, all I knew was that the cops were taking it seriously ... but later, when the pieces started jigging together, everyone became convinced that this particular enemy, once he'd figure out Terry was still alive, would come after him until he wasn't.

I fall to pieces each time I see you again
How can I be just your friend?

Moving in concert with this phalanx of armed men ... big men ... Dino's hand on my elbow. And inside my overactive brain, riffs of melodies ... lines of off-chance songs on a CD I had played the day before while thinking about nothing of any consequence.

A hospital not unlike so many other hospitals I've seen in my adult life. Aaron Neville's sweet voice of an angel asking me that question about being just a friend just when Dino knocked on the door that led me to where Terry was on his feet and bitching with a nurse over his right to smoke a cigarette.

I fall to pieces each time someone speaks your name
Time only adds to the pain

"Oh God." Did those words come out and did my breath leak out of me just at that pristine moment of seeing him and realizing he was okay but I'd come so close to losing him? Was that me crying against his chest and was that his uninjured arm holding me, sheltering me as if it was the most natural thing to us both?

He whispered these soothing noises against my temple and then I heard Dino asking the nurse to give us privacy and ...

"Hey, hey. What's all this? I'm fine. How's my girl?"

I just shook my head against him as I struggled with relief.

"Dino told you?"

"What are you doing out of bed?" I suddenly popped away from him and gave him a waggle of my finger. "I hear you've been a very bad patient. The nurses ... thought you'd have been doing your best to charm them. They hold the power here, man. Hey, nice legs, Terry. Showing those off will offset a lot of that surly attitude for the nurses, I guess."

His fingers lingered as they ran down my cheek and we were so open in this moment. I swallowed hard as he said, "Thanks for coming, Annie."

For a moment, we let this hang there, suspended between us, kept aloft with the strangely shy smiles we held for each other.

"Back to bed, Terry. Come on now. You need to recuperate. We all know what a big strong man you are but even heroes got to take some time to heal. Now, there ya go ... Here, let me tuck you in."

"Annie ..."

"Just rest. That's your job and ..."

"Annie ... come sit by me. I don't need my mum right now. Come tell me if you're okay, love?"

"You didn't think I'd stay away, did you?" I asked him as I smoothed his blanket down and let his hand pull me to perch at the edge of the mattress. And just that quickly, we were twining our fingers and my free hand was touching his chest, over his heart.

"How are you? Really? Any pain?"

"Fuck yeah," he said and we both chuckled. "Pretty good painkillers, though. And I'm better now you're here. Worried about you until ...Jesus, Annie. C'mon. Here, if you're gonna cry, come let me hold you."

And the tension left with the tears and with feeling the warmth of him. "It's just so silly ... crying now that it's over ... I always do that, dammit," I mumbled as the crying jag ended and he helped me mop up my tears.

"Not really over, though, love." He pulled my hand to his mouth, kissed over the knuckles and looked so serious. His tough man look. The one that brought me to my knees and I was trying so hard to stand upright. "Hey, Annie, gotta ask you something. What was the name of the bloke who came after your Terry? Remember? You said some old enemy kidnapped Uma ... and ..."

"Rawlins." A coldness crept in over me and I gripped his hand. "No."

"Yes." He enunciated the word clearly and just that fast we were talking about that person out of my past who'd nearly killed us all. "He sent the two who came after me. I should have handled them without a problem ... Guess I've grown soft or something."

This sudden little boy look of chagrin on him. Christ, if anything happened to him because I'd brought bad karma in with me from PW. "The real danger isn't Rawlins. It's who he'll send next."

"Raul. I remembered that. The cops are searching for him. Until they find him ... I need you to see this, Ann. We need to learn from what they did in that other place. I will see to it that there's a different outcome. I will not let any harm come to you. Right? You with me?"

"What are you going to do? Jesus, Terry, you're wounded. Just let the cops fucking handle it, okay? That's what we should have done the first time but we ... Promise me that you'll not try to be a hero and ..."

"You trust me?"

It made me smile. "Absolutely. Sorry. I'll shut up and do whatever you tell me to ..."

"That'll be a first," he snorted. We both chuckled.

A knock at the door. Dino's serious face ... and then this puzzled smile at us because he must have thought he'd have been walking in to find a different scene. "Will miracles never cease? Thought I was destined to have to put up with your grumpy ass forever, old man."

"Fuck you, mate."

"No thanks. Not that hard up." Dino sauntered into the room, sunk into a chair at the bedside and looked off toward the window. "Security's in place. The PD's got their raggedy guard out there but we got our guys where they'll do us the best good. Anyone gets through them, they'll have to then get past me."

"Right, then, I'm set. Now ... What about Ann? Want our best ... Phillips, Watson maybe ... to stay with her at a secure hotel and ..."

"I'm not leaving. Are you insane?"

"Annie." Two male voices saying my name like harmony.

"Y'all, I'm not leaving the hospital, okay? I'll be fine. Besides, Terry will be on his best behavior when I'm here and the nurses will love me for that, right?"

I didn't miss the look that passed between them. And I didn't miss Dino's eyes dart down to where I was still holding Terry's hand as it rested on my thigh. But it was quick, so quick, and then they were talking like I wasn't even there. Discussing the status of the hunt for Raul.

And that's how I found out that a safe house was being prepared to stash Terry in if Raul was not apprehended before Terry was due to be discharged the next day. And it went without discussing that until the threat was past, I'd be under protection in the same place. I thought about my little house in St. Martinville. Excused myself to go make a call. They had two big guys ... Phillips and Watson ... tag along with me as I went just outside the hospital's back entrance to use my cell. Called my neighbor; asked her to water my plants and pick up my newspapers and mail. No telling how long I'll be gone, I told her. And, hey, if you notice anyone suspicious, call the cops but whatever you do, don't get involved, okay?

Dino was coming out of the room as I was heading back. Have I ever mentioned how much I adore the way he looks at you when he's being so serious and when he's caring so much about you?

"Better now?" he asked me softly, his hands on his hips, his head cocked to the side and his eyes on mine. When I nodded, he said, "The old man's taking a nap. Think the nurse gave him double the painkillers just to knock him out. Wanna take a little walk while he's sleeping?"

So we walked. One big man in front, one behind. Discreet distance. Everyone on edge. Everyone trying to act like it was just a job. Not a one of us failing to understand what was really going on.

"Need to ask you something, Annie." We were sitting in the cafeteria, sipping not so bad coffee. "Y'know, I tend to get protective of Terry. Mind if I ask ... the two of you ... Hey, he's been through hell and I don't just mean the shooting ..."

"We're friends. You know that."

"It's just that ... the way you reacted ... seemed more than that to me ... and it may seem that way to him and ... This has been a shitty time for him. He's just now getting back to himself. I'd hate to see him hurt if he is to misread ..."

"He's my best friend, Dino. How was I supposed to react? You don't think I don't know how fucking hard this has been on him? What are you really saying to me? I know I'm not her. I just think he still wants me in his life even so. But if you think this is a bad idea, my being here, then ... No. You know what? Bullshit. I don't care what you think. I'm staying and I'm making sure he's okay. If you don't like it, objection noted and you bring it up with Terry if you want to bring it up again. Okay?"

This slow grin on his face as his eyes dropped down to the table. "Yeah. That's ... Good answer. For what it's worth, he gave me that glare of his."

"His Queen Mother look? I'm familiar with it."

When he giggled, I couldn't help joining in. I could picture that exchange between them. And then our eyes met. I reached out and touched his hand. "Dino was such a good friend to me in my world. Takes a lot to have me call someone a good friend. He was the same way. Let me earn that with you, okay?"

When they got a look at Raul's history, the Feds got involved. Dino and Terry, I could tell, felt more comfortable with them anyway. As they moved Terry to a safe house, I got swept along as if I were part of his luggage. Dino coordinated with the Feds to have six of TOL's operatives supplement the two agents assigned to guard the estate they took us to the day Terry was discharged from the hospital.

Strange times. I focused only on the moment-to-moment part of living. I was cataloging details for some unseen boss I pretended I had to report to later. Details ... like helping him tie his shoelaces after the nurse let us back in his room after the final changing of the bandages. We went inside ... me, Dino, an FBI guy, their guy Sanderson ... Terry was dressed, his arm in a sling over the forest green polo shirt that Dino had bought him along with jeans to replace his ruined clothes. He was sitting in a chair grumbling as he tried to get his socks on with one good hand. I plopped down on the ground before him and finished the job. Like it was just nothing and it was but it wasn't and I should have seen it but I didn't.

And when I had the final loop in the second shoelace, I looked up into his face as he concentrated on the FBI guy's briefing and I just got the oddest feeling. And when he looked down at me with that serious man face of his, I felt ... like nothing would ever threaten me when I was near him. Because he would never let it happen.

We left that hospital like a military operation was put into play. I was almost out of his hospital room when I hesitated to look back and make sure nothing had been left ... old, nervous habit. I felt his hand take mine and gently pull me along with him. It was comforting. I felt under his protection. What could be wrong with that?

We drove there in unobtrusive sedans flanked by SUVs in deep charcoal gray. He didn't exactly hold my hand as we sat there in the back seat ... me in the middle between him and Dino. He had let my hand go when he helped me in the car. When he slid in next to me, he leaned in close to my ear and asked how I was doing. Our eyes met and I just felt like what passed between us meant something. It took a while for me to notice ... we had been on the road and he was busy talking to Dino about various concerns and Dino was all calm as he was probably repeating some things he'd already told Terry ... and then I noticed ... Terry's index finger was giving these small, gentling strokes over the knuckles of my hand closest to him. It was ... comforting.

I concentrated on these details because the big picture scared the living fuck out of me. Had I brought this on him just by virtue of being there? Like my karma from another world followed me there?

Initially, I pretended well enough that this was just one of those things. What else could possibly go wrong? Wasn't it just a matter of time before they found Raul? Wasn't Terry safe now? But somewhere deep inside, when I looked, I knew the answer was never that simple. Fate wasn't exactly my ally, was it?

Each day we were in the safe house began with a briefing from the head of the FBI team overseeing the hunt for Raul. I sat in on the first ones; in part, because of morbid curiosity. But mostly because I wanted to show I believed there was nothing to fear. But I'd stopped after the first few days because they always seemed the same: they didn't know where Raul was.

Did Terry always know I was hiding my fear so that he could hide his? I think so. I think he knew me too well. I think he cared too much to be fooled.

Did I always know Terry was hiding his fear so that I'd feel safe? Oh, absolutely. It was his birthright, wasn't it? I cared too much to do anything but trust in him.

And through it all, Dino was this force of nature. Self-assured, wired, tuned in, sassy, deadly and full of this cocky way of cajoling us both to keep dealing with life as it presented itself. He came and went through our lives in those long days we were tucked in that safe house. He put Terry to work setting up and monitoring their team; knowing it's what he needed -- something that wasn't busy work, something no one did better than Terry. He imposed on me to keep Terry rational and focused; knowing it's what I needed -- something to take me outside myself and feel useful when I was feeling like nothing so much as a liability.

When he left each night, he breezed out with a soft word and tough look. These were always directed at Terry until this one night after we'd been there about five days. It was a day with unpleasant news during the morning's briefing and nothing had seemed to go very well that day. We were all beginning to show the strain.

"So, that's that then," he said as he came in the kitchen where I was sitting in a window seat and pretending to read. "The old man's out doing a perimeter check. Eh, Christ. They don't need Mama Thorne babysitting them. But that's him, isn't it? He should be in here, safe and snug. But ... nope. Gotta get stuck in, as he says."

"What harm is he doing? Just let him be."

Said it too sharp. Christ. Same sharp tongue I'd given Terry that afternoon when he reminded me for the millionth time not to open a curtain.

"Bit of cabin fever, Annie?" Dino asked me softly, dragging over a chair from the table, straddling it and facing me square on. "Wanna talk?"

"I'm fine. I don't need counseling. When the fuck are they going to find these jokers? How hard can it really be? And why aren't you out there doing something? Why are you here when you should be finding them?"

His hand touched my knee and I felt my heart slow from its frenetic pace. "It's natural to feel ..."

"Oh, crap. Don't talk to me about natural ways to feel. You think there's one thing that's natural about this situation? That these men nearly killed him in my world and are trying again here? You have no idea how I ..."

"Maybe more than you realize," he said it soft and I knew just in that instant that he and Terry both had figured out where some of my fear came from ... that it wasn't only the danger to Terry.

God. I hated myself for that selfish way of being self-protective.  

He changed the subject. Asked if there was some 'activity' I'd like to be doing while tucked away there ... some pastime that might keep my mind occupied. Like what, I'd grumbled, cuz I think I done worked all the crosswords and read all the books and ... Well, he cut in, maybe something creative ... Heather likes to paint when she's got the time, he said, maybe something along those lines.

"I was doing some pottery," I said softly, hearing myself and ruing my bitchiness. "I used to throw on a wheel, y'know? I've taken it up again lately ... now that I seem to have the time and the ... well, the time, I guess."

"Pottery?" This thoughtful look on his face as he tried not to be obvious. "Yeah, that'd probably be therapeutic right about now."

It made me grin at him. "You trying to tell me I need therapy?"

"You're forced to spend way too much time with the old man. I'd say you need all the help you can get." His tone trying to deceive me but my eyes read him so well.

So ... I chuckled at him and felt the tension in the air fly away into the ether. "You always were good for my moods."

And as soon as I said it, I wished it back. How unfair of me! This was not the Dino I knew and I had no right to impose my old knowledge on this one. But, he surprised me. Then again ... who wouldn't be curious about their alter ego?

So ... he asked me. Questions I think he'd been holding in ever since Terry had first told him about who I was, where I was from and what that place meant. He asked me ...

"Did he look as good as me? Or were the years less kind to him?"

Giggling at him. "Who could ever look as good as you?"

"Smooth, Annie."

"I got my lessons from him ... he is the King of Smooth."

"And he and Heather were ..."

This pause and I knew it would come down to this and one other question. I was somehow more ready than I thought I'd be to answer him. "She is incredibly important to him, as he is to her." And even when I said it, I remembered Dino's last bit of information to me ... that Heather and Lach were expecting a baby, just like Uma and Terry ... and that I'd wondered ... why couldn't I have been as easy as Dino with all that? Why was it that Heather having a child with another man, with the main man in her life, didn't seem like the final chapter to what Dino shared with her? But when I had asked Dino, he had only said that some things are too important to those we love to be anything but happy news.

"Then they're together?" And I knew in the space of that one question that Terry had already found the way to tell him what I'd said about the complications of the simple relationship between Dino and Heather in PW.

So I told him what I thought the Dino in my world would want to know. Of course, I didn't know everything; who could? But I'd seen them together and I knew ... this was an important thing for them both and no one should lose sight of that.

We were drinking scotch by then. He'd done the pouring and he was keeping my glass full. The night sky behind me held no interest any longer. Only Dino seemed important.

"So, Annie ... that construct ... back there ... it worked? For everyone?"

"We built that world, Dino. It wasn't perfect. What is? But ... yeah, it worked. For the most part. For all of them. I don't know. Maybe not so well, but pretty awesome for a while."

"You miss it?"

"I miss belonging."

Long, slow nods. Eyes down at his glass. Fingers tapping the rim. "This will sound intrusive. Blunt question ... you and him ... that Dino ..."

"We were never intimate."

Eyes sliding up to mine. "Why not?"

"Fair question. Honest answer? At first, we didn't out of sensitivity to Terry's feelings. But then, I just needed a friend with no sexual issues between us. You are the finest of friends."

"Am I?"

"In my world, Gen was my best friend in college."

So I told him about her, about me and Gen. About finding out Dino's connection. How it set me on the path to come to this place. And about how there had never been anyone like Dino ... no one. A friend who helped me across worlds, across time, across realities. It was Gen, I told him, but it was also you who gave me a new future.

He was staring in his drink. I felt the warmth of scotch in my veins. "You asked me if I missed Perve World. Let me tell you in a way I think you'll relate. The Dino I knew, he loved women but he was content with being resigned to be alone. You know why? Because he didn't think there was still a special someone for him after he lost Gen."

"If I hadn't found Heather, I am not sure I would have ever thought this kind of love was possible. It's not the same as what I had with Gen, nothing should be the same when it comes to love, you know? Each abiding love should be abiding in its own way. But ... I can relate to what he felt. I just seem to know there's a way if you're open to it."

"Sure. But, see, it's only now that I understand what he meant. He said that he loved the women in our group and he was happy with that, but he couldn't be greedy. He said Gen was all he ever expected, all he ever really wanted, and when she was gone, he felt like he'd had his shot."

A warm smile at me. "You figure you had your shot, do you?"

I looked at the floor. "Unlike Dino, I never really took my shot. What I had there ... well, I blew it. They taught me about men, about loving men. And now it's gone. I'll still survive, I'll still have a good life ... but I can't be sad that it's gone because, like Dino said, I can't be greedy about such things. There are far too many people in the world who never have love. At least I know I had it."

"And that's good enough for you? You think you don't deserve more?"

"It's not about deserving it. It's ... I don't know ... it's about ... God. I can just paraphrase his words to you: being alone isn't so tough when you had someone in your life once who showed you what it's like to belong."

"You still belong ... even here."

I smiled at him and went to where he was sitting. Gave him this hug. "It's not that kind of belonging I'm talking about," I told him just before he rose to leave for the evening.

For a while, I just sat there in the window seat and pretended to read. But the truth was, he'd given me enough scotch mixed in with that conversation that I couldn't actually focus too well on the written word. In my mind, instead, words were shaping. These words. The things I'd like to write ... about me, about him, about how tough it is sharing a house with him knowing this is the best it will ever get. About how he is scared for me. About how that makes me feel. About how I'm worried about him. About how I have the logical ability to separate friendship from feelings I shouldn't be having. Hell, Diary, you know me ... I've always been a kidder. But at least now I know it's me I'm kidding along with everyone else.

And into this drink-induced bit of self-examination, I hear the sounds of him moving around out there in the exercise room. It's this big room tucked off the family room and filled with machines and weights and bars. He has been diligent with his workouts. He is determined to rehab his shoulder. He is convinced it will speed his recovery. It is the best he can do to work off the anxiety from being cooped up here and unable to take action against a threat poised to strike him and perhaps someone he cares about.

Every time he works out, he loosens the bandage with the sweat he works up. It has become a part of our little routine. When he's finished working out, he takes a shower and then I cleanse his wound and re-bandage him. We talk. Never about anything important. I've been feeling self-conscious because I am always so close to him and so aware of this imitation of intimacy. Standing between his legs as he sits on the side of the bathtub in his bathroom. Confined space. He seems weak from the workout but his muscles seem more prominent and he just seems all-man and powerful. I can't stand that close to him anymore without being aware of him as a man and without being way too aware that he's sitting there only half-dressed.

Yesterday, I was standing there after cleaning off his wound. I was smearing antibiotic cream over it and telling him he looked good. I meant the wound was healing nice but somehow maybe I really meant something else. I glanced down his bare chest as my fingers lingered on his skin. He was wearing jeans. He was excited. As in, getting hard. And I looked. And he saw me look. In fact, he watched me look. Our eyes met. He willed me to keep looking in his eyes and it was the first time in all the time I'd known him that I knew it was me ... not her ... that he was longing for. And I knew he wanted me to see all of this ... from the hardness at his groin to his chest's rising cadence of deep breaths to what was going on in his eyes.

Not a word passed between us. We didn't need words.

He looked down at his hand just as it moved to stroke the back of my thigh. Next time he took a deep breath, I knew he'd smelled my arousal by the way his fingers clenched in on my thigh once, twice, again ... an unconscious rhythm there.

I did the right thing. I simply reached for the bandage and tape. His hand nudged my leg to bring me in closer as he kneaded me there. I taped his bandage in place, removed his hand and left the bathroom.

What else could I have done?

We were both too smart to make that mistake. We had avoided being alone together since then. But here he was working out again, I thought in my hazy brain. This time, when he showered, there'd be the added element of us being alone inside this house and that it was night instead of late morning like it usually was.

I didn't plan to but I'm standing there leaning against the doorway that separates the exercise room from the living room. He's sweating as he runs on the treadmill. He's wearing a singlet and running shorts and sneakers. I wonder that he has the forbearance to run with an injury that must get jarred with each strike of each foot. He must be healing a lot faster than I would be. Although I do wonder if he's grimacing as he runs harder. His back's to me. He has no idea I'm here. Just watching him run and then the treadmill's slowing down until he's walking to cool down. The way his body moves and the way the gait is too familiar. The way I feel like I could put out my tongue and catch droplets of his pheromones he's released into the air. The way the scotch has made me feel loose and warm ... and how I know I am only going to hurt myself if I long for him like I am.

To him, all I will ever be is 'not her.' That's what I really figure. I'll never really be me. And for the first time as I stand there watching him, I wonder why he has never been 'not him' to me. Why he's always just been him to me. Why I've never confused the two of them ... the two Terry's I've known but not really known in the same way. I feel a tear come sliding down my cheek. This is the true source of my loneliness and I've known it for a while. I am stuck in this place where the things I might want are cruelly not attainable.

When I wipe the tear away, I focus again and he is now straddling one of the weight benches. He's doing biceps curls with a small weight. He's using his good arm and he's just watching me as he works out. Like he's put himself on display as a temptation to challenge my resolve. The sight of his body in this moment is like mainlining a lust highball into my veins. Then he switches hands and after about five repetitions, he's wincing ever so slightly each time he lifts the weight.

I go over and straddle a bench near him. Start mirroring his workout. But alcohol has affected my coordination and I'm giving up.

He's still just watching me.

"Long day," I say to him as I plop the little dumbbell down into its holder and I stumble over another one that's on the floor. I would probably fall on my face, but Terry catches me and pulls me to sit on his bench. "Dino's got me half-drunk."

When he doesn't say anything back, I tell him about Dino pouring me scotch. He tells me Dino gave him the same pep session the night before. Are we that easy to read now, I ask him. You are, he says.

"You really are a cocky bastard," I say and smack him lightly, playfully on his good shoulder. His skin is slick. I try not to notice. He responds by giving me a smug grin and patting my head. He knows I hate that - the head patting thing.

And straight out of nowhere, we're just looking at each other and he says, "You never belonged back there anyway. Why pretend to Dino you think you did?"

So I know now, don't I? He overheard at least part of that conversation. More than that, he's been listening to me all these months and he knows I was bullshitting Dino that night. "He wouldn't understand how I feel. No one would," I tell Terry and it's like I have a moment of sobriety but I'm only able to say this sober thought because I'm looped on alcohol.

"Yeah?" he says and his voice is aggressive. I'm still looking right at him. He drops his dumbbell, leans toward me and says soft, deep, "I understand. And you know I do."

"It's the sense of belonging, isn't it?" My hand reaches out for his. "Sometimes I just get scared that I'll never find anyplace I belong. It's easier on me in my dark moments to believe I had it and lost it rather than believe I'll never find it."

"What are you really scared of, Ann?" He's got my hand trapped between both of his and he's examining my fingers like they've got the test answers written on them. "Me?"

"No."

"Y'sure?" he asks me even as he's slowly, so slowly, pulling me closer to him. "If I put my head on your heart, Annie, would I hear it's beating way too fast?"

"Yes."

He gives me that smile. The one that's disguised ... it's supposed to make you think he's suddenly shy but in reality it's a smile that shows he knows exactly what he's up to and he's not sure he should be. It's a smile that looks incredible on him. And I am far too close to being tipsy to not be instantly affected by that smile and the way he's got me coming closer. All I would have to do is lean forward the tiniest bit and I could ...

My lips gather in just the edges of his bottom lip. I hear this murmur from him and I find myself insanely attracted to learning again how his top lip feels between mine. It feels good. So good. Warm. Soft. Compliant.

God. It feels too good. Too right. Like nothing ever really has. Not really.

I sit back up and take a deep breath. I can't do this. Not to him. But my God, I want him. I just do. And it's wrong of me. It's crossing a line I think is wrong.

All I can do is look at him. Look. Don't touch. He doesn't need me screwing up his life. I need him as a friend. I wouldn't make it without him as my friend. I know what this means. But alcohol ... it's a libido charger ... I don't want to make a mistake ... not now ... not with him ... but ...

He leans in this time. He's not drunk. He knows what he wants. He just takes it. And I am on the receiving end of a kiss I've been dying for ... a kiss that bestows a sense of belonging. It's one of those ones he specializes in ... he's only kissed me once like this ... it was right after I crossed over here and he thought I was her. I've got to believe, at the front of my alcohol-enhanced libido, that this time, he knows it's me he's kissing. Because it's like she wrote about once in her journal and I remember it so well in this moment: it's the kind of kiss he gives when he's trying to show rather than tell a woman that he's got so many emotions where she's concerned that he's just not really able to contain them. He starts slow ... both my lips get treated to these sucks of lingering enjoyment he feels just to be able to enter into a kiss with me. And then he stops, lifts his head, slips his hands along my jaw until he's got a thumb massaging my cheek and his fingers are laced behind my head. And he's just taking a moment to look into me and let me look into him. Only I can't really focus that well so all I see is this light in his eyes that's him. This close to him and it's the light in his eyes that always shows me who I'm with. And then he's tilting his head and he's tilting mine to the angle he needs so that he can ...

His tongue touches lightly against my lips after he's pressed his over mine for a few seconds. I can't stop this train wreck. I don't just open to let him in. I go inside his mouth, too. I'm pressing in hard to his body, my arms going around his damp neck. And I want his entire mouth involved in that kiss and I get it. And then his arms go around my back and we're both giving these little whimpers as the kiss gets frenetic. It's not such a pretty kiss anymore until he maneuvers me onto my back on the bench and he's pressing down on me ... and I go soft under him and he draws me out to play for a while.

We don't either of us do more than kiss just then. No big writhing of our bodies against each other. No pawing. No panting or gasping or grunting. Just kissing. I could lose my soul inside this kind of kissing. No one can get me to this kind of kissing unless I'm feeling something beyond lust.

He's the one who breaks the kiss. He sits up from me and pulls me up to face him. He's watching me. His hands are not still. One's smoothing hair back from my face so his lips can kiss along my forehead. The other goes into action when he stops that. He's sitting looking at me with the other hand working at the scar over his eyebrow. When I bat it away, he holds my hand.

"I know you think you don't belong here. But I've come to think maybe this was where you were meant to be all along," he says to me and he's got this tone of voice that dares me to disagree.

"I like you too much to ever inflict me on you in that way," I smart-mouth to him. It earns me a grin. But then he's tilting his chin down and he's serious again.

"I'm a big boy, Annie. Think I can take care of myself. But here's the main thing I want you to think about. Maybe it's me you've been chasing through all these worlds."

He's got a good right hook, doesn't he? Y'never even see it coming. How can you dodge it? I did the only thing smart I'd done the whole episode ... I got up from that bench and stumbled to bed. Alone.