Come Back To Me (12 page)

When the phone rang, Tess was sitting on the floor before the empty closet, her journal in her lap. She’d drafted a letter to Beau—one that she knew he’d never see—and she’d tucked it into the journal.  She stood, not as if in a dream, as one might expect, but rather like nothing out of the ordinary had just taken place, as if clearing out the remains of her dead husband was something she did every week.

“Hello?” the normalcy in her voice startled her—
Shouldn’t I feel overwhelmed or different? What the hell is wrong with me?

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t not call. I had to make sure you were okay,” Louie spoke quickly.

Tess smiled. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. I’ve been a bit of a mess lately.” She glanced in the mirror, and for the first time since Beau left, realized how thin her limbs had become.  She turned sideways, touched the area above her hip bones that used to carry a few extra pounds. She frowned at the mound she’d been ignoring, centered between two sharp hip bones. All those years of wondering how she might lose the love handles she’d acquired, and now that she had, she preferred herself a bit more plump. She took note of the feeling, and assured herself that she’d be more conscious of eating.

“Just wanted to see if you needed anything.”

Tess startled, then quickly turned her back on the mirror. She pursed her lips and took a deep breath. “I need a bike ride,” she said, surprising herself.

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”

Tess couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so invigorated. They’d biked for two hours along the C&O Canal and now sat on an outcropping of rocks, fifteen feet above the Potomac River. The water produced small whitecaps where it swirled into the rocks. The gentle sounds of the ripple and flow of the water sifted through the air. Tess stared into the blue afternoon, more relaxed than she’d been in weeks.

Louie sat a few feet from her, one leg bent, his elbow leaning across his knee, fiddling with a twig.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked.

“About what?”

“The kiss?” he said.

Tess blushed. She turned away, then back toward him. No words came to her, no excuses, no apology. She shrugged.

He laughed. “Okay, then.” Louie lay back on the rock and stared up at the sky. Tess did the same.

“You know, this friendship is a bit unfair,” she said. “You know a lot about me, personal stuff, I mean, and I only know that you’re an accountant who doesn’t return phone calls. Seems kinda one-sided, don’t you think?”

He turned to face her, then looked back up at the sky. “Not much to tell.”

“There has to be something. Ever married? Skeletons in your closet?”

He laughed, “No, and maybe.”

“Aw, come on!” she teased. “Tell me something juicy, something I can hold against you.”

He was quiet for a minute, contemplating. “I sleep with the same blanket I’ve had since I was seven.”

“That’s a start—weird, but a start.”

“My grandmother made it. It’s brown and tan and has my initials in the center. It fits a twin sized bed, but I still use it on my king.”

“Like I said, weird, but okay. Give me more.”

“I’ve got nothing,” he reiterated.

She sat up and stared at him. “Nothing? No one has nothing. Come on!”

He shook his head, “Sorry.”

They rode back into Bethesda and stopped at Rock Bottom Restaurant and Brewery for dinner. Tess had just finished her last bite of salmon when Louie excused himself to say hello to a friend who was sitting at the bar. She watched him from behind, his jeans and t-shirt wrinkled from their ride, his hair awry from the wind. Suddenly, she realized that she’d seen Louie before she’d ever met him.

He came back and settled into his seat. Tess wore an ear-to-ear grin.

“Do you frequent bars?” she asked playfully.

“Uh, no. Why do you ask?”

“Rock Bottom, maybe?”

“I don’t know, a few times. Why?” he shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

“You were Nineties-Guy,” she laughed, taking a sip of her wine.

“Okay,” he moved his plate to the side and leaned forward. “Am I supposed to know what that means?” he raised his eyebrow. “Ninety-inches? Was I into a ninety-year-old chick? Ninety—”

“Nineties guy,” she laughed. “Beau and I used to watch people and—” she turned away, suddenly embarrassed. What she’d done with Beau may have been way out of the norm for other people. “Nothing, never mind.”

“No way! C’mon, now you have to tell me,” his energy was contagious.

Tess threw caution to the wind, recognizing that speaking Beau’s name hadn’t sent her crying, running from the room—it actually felt good. “Nineties guy, you know, old jeans, t-shirt, long hair, like in the nineties? We used to make up stories about people while we were waiting for our table, or in lines, you know,” she waved her hand through the air. “It’s silly. Never mind.”

“Wait, wait, wait! You mean like, What’s her story?”

Tess looked at him cockeyed.

“You know, when guys make up stories about the girls standing at the bar? She’s looking for a father figure. She’ll take your wallet. She’s got a penis,” he laughed.

Tess covered her face, laughing. “Okay, make fun of me.”

“I’m not,” he sat back and roared with laughter. “We’re pigs. We really do that, or at least we did when I was twenty.”

She told him of his made up history and enjoyed his pleasure at her choice of professions for him. Tess couldn’t help but ask him again about his past. He gave no hints of anything more than college and work. “Long-term relationships?” she asked.

“Overrated,” he said.

They biked back to Tess’s house, the brisk night awakening their senses. Tess pulled her sweater around her shoulders after parking her bike on the side of the house and invited Louie in for a drink.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “I know how you work. First, you invite me in for a drink, then you’re all paws, clawing at my clothes and taking advantage of me.”

She laughed, unlocked the door.

“Seriously, I have to go. I have a long ride home and an early meeting tomorrow,” he said.

“Okay, Mr. I-don’t-return-calls, blow me off then,” she teased.

He leaned in to kiss her cheek and she quickly turned, taking his face in her hands and kissing him on the lips.

“See?” he said softly as they pulled apart. “I knew you’d take advantage of me.”

“Did you say Kevin asked you to go to the movies?” Tess and Alice had been reviewing files in the conference room all morning. Monday was typically a busy day for them, and this one had started out with a storm. One of the managers Tess had placed had been accused of embezzling from the company’s charitable fund, and it was up to them to find a replacement—fast.

“How about this one, Joe Soloman? Six years investment banking, three years management,” Alice offered.

“Skirt the question much?”

“Focus, Tess, our butts are on the line here.”

Tess rolled her eyes. “Sure, set it up, then tell me about you and the Kevster.”

“Nothing to tell,” Alice said, furiously searching through files.

“Okay,” Tess said, making a big show of waving her hands and sighing loudly. “You can keep your secret, and I’ll keep mine.”

Alice’s eyes lit up. She inched to the edge of her chair, “Your secret?”

Tess shrugged. “How about this guy?” she pushed a file across the table to Alice.

“Forget the file, Tess, do tell!”

“Nope. No Kevin, no details,” she kept her nose in the files.

“Ugh!” Alice stood and paced. “There’s really nothing to tell.  We’ve been hanging out. That’s it. You know me, there’s never anything more.”

Tess lifted her eyes, “Yeah, and why is that, exactly?”

Alice threw herself onto the chair, “God, really? I don’t know. There just isn’t. I’m not like you, I don’t get all lovey-dovey and needy.”

Tess didn’t know if she should be hurt or flattered. She decided to go for the latter and lifted her eyebrows.

“He’s…I don’t know, fun?” Alice said.

“Fun?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. There isn’t anything going on or anything. We hang out, have drinks, dinner, maybe a movie. Sometimes he calls.”

“Wait, you actually talk to him on the phone? More than the one-word answers you give me?”

Alice turned her back, hair resting perfectly below the line of her shoulders. “Maybe. Sometimes.” Then she spun around, “Your turn!”

Flustered, Tess flipped though the papers she’d been holding.

Alice sat on the table next to the papers, flattened them with her palm. “Well? What’s the secret?”

“It’s not a secret, really. I’ve just been thinking a lot, that’s all.”

“About the baby?”

Tess squared her shoulders, her face serious. “No, not about the baby. I cleaned out Beau’s closet.”

“You did!” Alice’s excitement made Tess smile. “Good girl!”

“It wasn’t anything big. I just got to thinking, and, well, it’s been months, and surely if he had been—” she waved her hand, pushing back the tears that welled in her eyes. “It was time, that’s all.”

“I’m so proud of you! That must have been very difficult.”

“Not as difficult as I’d thought, actually,” the truth of the statement stung. “I called Carol, too.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Tess Johnson?” Alice joked.

Tess laughed. “I know. I had to. It was time.” She looked at Alice, really looked at her for the first time in weeks. Her eyes had softened.
Kevin.
“Thanks, Alice.”

“What’re friends for?” Alice laughed. “I never would have imagined. Good for you.”

“There’s more,” Tess admitted.

Alice opened her eyes wide and bobbed her head forward, “Should I brace myself?”

“Shut up,” Tess said and pushed back from the table. She stood, turned her back to Alice, and said, “I don’t even know how to tell you this.”

“You’re really a man?” Alice teased.

“Worse, I think.”

“You’re closing the office?” pain streaked across her face.

“Never.” Tess sat on the table next to Alice, swinging her feet. “I kissed Louie Tole—twice.”

Alice shrieked, “Oh, thank God!”

“What?”

“I mean, if you closed the office what the hell would I do?” she playfully pushed Tess. “That’s your big secret?”

“No, the closet was my big secret, but this, indiscretion, has been bothering me—sort of.”

“Indiscretion?” Alice kicked her feet in time with Tess’s. “My dear, that is not an indiscretion. That’s a much-needed taste of life, so to speak.”

They both laughed.

“Speaking of taste, how was it?” Alice asked.

“Jesus, Al!” Tess got up and grabbed a file, giving Alice the sign that they needed to get back to work. “You’re such a pig.”

“Me? I’m not the one who kissed a could-be client.”

Tess’s face became serious. “Oh, God, you’re right. What’ve I done?”

“Oh, please. Get over it. It doesn’t sound like you’ve done nearly enough.”

“You would know,” Tess was only partially joking. “Who’s your latest conquest?”

“Reporting my sex life was not in the job description when I took this job.”

“Kevin?” Tess asked.

“No, and don’t you breathe a word of it. I’m more of a one-night-stander. Not even that,” she looked up toward the ceiling, as if she were contemplating just the right words. “A few-hour-banger, yeah, that’s it, then, get the hell out, and I won’t call you.”

“Alice Workman! How have I not known this about you for all these years?”

Alice shrugged. “I guess I’m not a bag ’n‘ bragger.”

Chapter Fourteen

Tension whipped through the afternoon like a sandstorm. The children were excessively needy and whiney, taking their cues from the adults who were short tempered as they awaited their transport across the desert.

They had remained in the small building except to use the lavatory, a wooden platform built over a hole in the ground. The stench had been overwhelming, feces and urine stained the edges of the wood where others had missed their aim. Beau had barely been able to restrain himself from retching.

He stood beside Suha and Abdul Hadi in the corner of the building. Their whispers, he’d hoped, would be indiscernible to the others. Suha wrung her hands nervously as they discussed the possible outcomes of the next leg of their journey. The reality of them all perishing was something Beau tried to push aside. He had to believe he’d make it back home. He’d promised. Hell, he needed to believe in order to get through each moment of each day.

The heavy sound of truck tires crunching sand drew their attention, inciting fear so strong, Beau wasn’t sure he could manage to function around it. His heart pumped fast and hard in his chest. His muscles clenched throughout his body. He knew he had to remain strong for the sake of the children, for the sake of the women. That knowledge did nothing to calm his panicked state.

The roar of the truck frightened the children. Athra’s arms shot up as she scurried up her mother’s body. Edham held tight to Samira’s leg. Samira rushed to Beau’s side, a pleading look in her eyes. Zeid remained two steps from his mother’s reach, hovering somewhere between terrified child and tough pre-adolescent.

Abdul Hadi met three armed Iraqi men in the doorway. His demeanor was calm, his words fast, aggressive. The men waved their guns in Beau’s direction. Beau was unable to translate each word of the heated discussion, but the gist did not escape him. His presence was a threat, a threat they were not ready to cover. Abdul Hadi argued with the men, pulling pieces of his clothing toward the men, touching his hair, his beard. The men looked Beau over, and for once, Beau was thankful for his poor hygiene. One of the men walked out of the building, leaving the other two to argue with Abdul Hadi. The third man returned, tossing a duffle bag in Abdul Hadi’s direction.

The men swiftly left the building. Abdul Hadi quickly emptied the duffle, tossing pieces of clothing to Beau. Ten minutes later, the vehicle pulled away from the camp. The group sat in the rear of the truck, Beau’s head swathed in fabric, his body in the soldier’s clothing. The women huddled with the children, even Zeid could not mask his fear of the armed soldier who sat amongst them. Abdul Hadi sat across from Suha, watchful and strong. The safety of the camp fell away in the distance.

They had been traveling for hours. Athra lay curled at her mother’s feet atop a blanket, the vibration of the truck had lulled her to sleep. Zeid had been silent during the long, hot trip. He moved next to Abdul Hadi, his head held high when the soldier eyed him suspiciously, as if to say that he was a man, and, therefore, could move about as one.

He nudged Abdul Hadi’s arm and asked in Arabic, “To where are we going?”

Abdul Hadi did not answer. He looked warily at the soldier, whom he knew was part of the underground movement and was there to assist them, but still he did not fully trust the man.

“What will happen to us when we arrive?” Zeid pushed.

Abdul Hadi spoke without taking his eyes from the soldier’s, “Hush. We are going where they take us.”

“Where? To our city?” Zeid ignored the pinched look of frustration on Abdul Hadi’s face.

“We will go where they take us,” he repeated.

Suddenly the brakes screeched, and the group was thrown forward. Athra cried out in terror. Edham clenched his mother’s arm, his nails tearing into her skin. Suha reached out to right Zeid, who’d crumpled forward. The soldier jumped from the truck, gun drawn. Outside the vehicle the men shouted angrily, unfamiliar male voices catapulted through the thin tarp that covered the rear of the vehicle. 

Beau shot a worried look to Abdul Hadi.

He held up his hand, commanding silence.

They listened.

“We’re at the airfield,” Abdul Hadi whispered.

“That’s it? We’re done? Now we’re safe?”

Abdul Hadi looked incredulously at Beau. He shook his head, his tone serious. “We are not safe until we are out of the country.”

Samira protectively covered Athra’s ears.

The rear of the truck swung open. Two Iraqi soldiers spat instructions in Arabic. Suha pushed Beau forward, guiding him toward the intended location. He kept his head bent low. Edham tugged at Beau’s pants leg. He lifted the boy easily into his arms, feeling Edham’s heart pounding against his thin chest. Abdul Hadi whispered to Beau to follow his lead.

Three armed men stood before a small plane. Two of them approached, staring at both Beau and Abdul Hadi. Abdul Hadi spoke rapidly, pointing to Beau, then motioning to his ear.

Suha translated in whispers, doing her best to hide her words by angling her face down toward the ground.

Abdul Hadi told the men that Beau was hard of hearing due to a recent explosion.

Suha whispered to Beau, “Not a word. Silence.”

The men circled Beau, eyeing him up and down. It was not a stretch for Beau to play the part of being injured or shell-shocked. Memories of the recent months were fresh. His eyes remained low, watching the boot-clad feet of the men scuff along the sand. His nerves were live wires. He expected to be torn from the group at any moment and shot.

From a nearby vehicle came another large dark-skinned man. Beau stole a glance. The man looked more American than Iraqi. For a split second, Beau was tempted to speak to him in English, to explain how he had landed amongst the group. Before he could utter a word, the man shoved papers into each of their hands, speaking forcefully in Arabic, “Identification.”

In the distance, a truck dusted up sand as it sped in their direction.

Suddenly, the men aimed their rifles in the direction of the approaching vehicle, shouting and pushing Beau and the others toward the airplane. Beau carried Edham, snagging Zeid’s collar with his free hand and pulling him toward the plane. Athra clung to Samira’s chest, sobbing loudly. Gunfire rang out seconds before they reached the plane. The engine roared, concealing the men’s wild shouts and the pops of the gunfire. Beau threw Edham and Zeid into the open door of the airplane. Abdul Hadi hoisted Samira and Athra into the plane. They scrambled across the airplane floor. Abdul Hadi lifted himself into the airplane and grabbed Suha’s arm, Beau lifted her from behind, into the belly of the plane. He jumped on the edge as the airplane lifted from the ground, falling atop Samira as the plane careened sideways. The door slammed shut. Gunfire rang out beneath the belly of the plane.

The children’s frantic screams and sobs echoed in the small plane.

Abdul Hadi hushed them, grabbing Zeid by the shoulders and commanding him to get a hold of himself for the good of his mother.

Beau checked Samira for cuts, broken bones. Beyond the screams, Beau heard a moan. Suha lay across a seat, her body oozing blood from several dark holes.  He rushed to her, lifting her across his lap, pushing his hands into the holes in her ravaged body.

“Suha!” His shout was drowned out by the roar of the airplane and the pilot’s incessant curses. Beau frantically tried to stop the bleeding, clinging to Suha’s body as his own was thrust from side to side from the turbulent ascent of the plane. Blood seeped through his fingers in thick, steady streams. He tore apart the fabric that had hidden his face and pressed the rumpled cloth into the wounds. “Don’t you leave me,” he pleaded through gritted teeth. “Come on, come on!”

Samira shrieked, crawling to Suha’s side. She ripped the remaining fabric and pushed it against Suha’s chest, desperately trying to cover the three bullet holes that spewed blood across her body, praying frantically in Arabic. Her hands shook, blood pooling beneath them.

Suha’s eyes opened, then slowly closed.

“Suha!” Beau yelled. He pushed her matted hair from her eyes. “Abdul Hadi!” he yelled.

Abdul Hadi took Beau’s hands from her wounds, Beau fought him. Abdul Hadi shook his head.

Tears streamed from Beau’s cheeks, his body quaked. “No! No!” he shook Suha’s body, shaking Suha. “Come on! Damn it, Suha! Come on!” He grabbed her hand and squeezed as hard as he was able.

Suha’s eyes fluttered beneath her lids. She tried to suck in air, gurgling, emitting a painful, choking sound.

“Ja…meel,” she managed.

“No!” Beau yelled and pulled her body against his heaving chest.

Samira threw herself across Suha’s back, oblivious to her children’s wails. Beau sobbed, holding Samira with one of his blood-soaked hands and pressing Suha’s lifeless body against him with the other.