Come Back To Me Page 12

  Abdul Hadi interrupted, explaining the plan to Suha.

  “We will take a vehicle to the airstrip,” he explained. “There are risks. We’ll need to insure the children mind our positions.” He shifted his gaze to Samira. “She is not strong.”

  “I’ll take care of them,” Beau said.

  Abdul Hadi nodded. “Insurgents can attack without warning.” He went on to explain that there had been one event where one of the soldiers helping the women out of the country had turned on them. They’d had to change every safe route they’d used. The threat remained with every rescue. Beau’s nationality might present a problem, he’d explained. He would dress in typical Iraqi garb, the untamed nature of his hair and his sun-tanned skin would help, but it was not a solid disguise. He would not use the bucket of water to scrub the dirt from his face that evening. The filth would add to his disguise.

  Beau did not worry for his own life. He worried for the life of Suha, Samira, and the children of whom he had become so fond. No longer were the stakes simply making it back to Tess. Suha, Samira, Zeid, Edham, and Athra were part of him now. He would protect their lives without fear. The weight of that knowledge stirred torment within him that felt a lot like anger.

  “If it is not to be, Jameel, then it was not meant to be,” Suha said to Beau.

  ***

  Later that night, Beau lay awake, listening to the tender sounds of slumber filling the small building: Athra suckling her thumb, Abdul Hadi’s light snores flitting across the room from where he slept. Edham had pushed his blanket against Beau’s, his body curled against Beau’s side during his first hours of sleep, like an extra appendage. Beau worried about the trip. He did not know what to expect, but he knew that Americans were blowing up insurgents’ vehicles, and insurgents were blowing up just about everything that passed by. In his right hand he gripped the pocket watch, in his left, an empty, clenched fist. Beau wasn’t a religious man, but that evening he prayed they’d make it to Germany safely, with the group intact, and without issue over his being an American. He prayed to be reunited with Tess. He didn’t let his mind wander to what she was doing, for he didn’t want to admit that she very likely believed him dead. Time had become an unknown entity to him. He hadn’t a clue what month it was, but he felt the slow passage of time deep within his heart, an inconsolable ache. How long have I been gone? he wondered. Three months? Four? It felt like forever. He opened his fist, releasing the watch, letting it fall beside him on the thickly-ribbed blanket. He ran his hand over the familiar fabric. Tess had a pullover hoodie made of the same rough material. She’d called it her hippie jacket. With his index finger, Beau outlined the letter ‘I’, the shape of a heart, and the letter ‘u’ in his palm, hoping Tess might somehow feel it on her own skin. He closed his eyes against his fear.

  Maryland

  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 cock
eyed.

  “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.