Disclaimer: I do not own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
It felt like a lifetime ago that Michelle had told him how much she hated early morning telephone calls. Back then he had laughed at her – what had she had to hate? Those telephone calls had always been for him, summoning him to another goddamn mess of a crime scene in bad weather at an ungodly hour with no witnesses and an ill-willing superior breathing down his neck, while she could stay in bed snuggled up comfortably between the warm sheets.
Ever since he had met Chance, he knew exactly what she had meant. The uncertainty of who would be on the other end of the line, the five million possible variations of bad news that might lie ahead... He recognized Ames' number on the display and braced himself for a shit storm of trouble heading straight his way.
Sure enough, she started like this: "We fought!"
Her shaky, tearful voice made his stomach clench tight.
"Who is injured and how bad is it?"
A slight, confused pause on the other end of the line: "Nobody… nobody is injured…"
Winston allowed himself a reluctant breath of relief. "Who did you fight? The Armenians? Belvilacqua's thugs? Don't tell me Harry got himself into trouble again!"
"No…no…Alejandro and I… we fought."
Winston's first impulse was to hang up the phone. His second was anger. "Is this your idea of making up for not inviting me to your wedding? Giving me a front-row seat to your first fight?"
A heartbreaking sob through the receiver brought his rant to a screeching halt. "Are you sure you don't want to talk to Ilsa about this?", he asked a lot quieter.
"She's at a cocktail party."
Winston's stomach started clenching again. He was so not the right person for this kind of problem.
"Well, then Chance maybe? Or…" Winston was getting a little desperate. "… Guerrero?"
"You're the only one who I know for sure has ever been married."
Winston started to realize that this was one of the situations where the only way out of it was the way through it. Damn, they were a lot easier to deal with when they involved thugs and heavy armament…
"It all started so harmlessly! We were sitting on the sofa, he was flipping through the channels and I said…"
"AMES!" This came out louder than intended, but at least she was silent. He wanted to help her, yes, but being reminded of his own marital battles through her re-narration of the whole mess would definitely be more than he could stomach at this time of day. He wrecked his brain for something to say. "Unless he cheated on you or beat you up or something like that it's not really important why you fought. It's more important how you handle it." Wow, now that sounded competent. Where had that been coming from?
"And how shall I handle it?"
Jesus, who was he, Dr. Phil?
"Where are you now?"
"In my car, cruising."
To his big surprise the next few words came almost automatically. "A time out is a good thing when you're overwhelmed with feelings. But don't let it last too long." He paused, trying to find an apposite example. What he finally came up with was: "Think of Chance and that Ashram shit. That was no time out, that was running away and I was really pissed afterwards." God, this sounded idiotic. But Ames wasn't sobbing anymore, so he carried on: "You've got to go back to Alejandro now and address the issue. Don't just sweep it under the rug. It will resurface and then it will be worse." He paused again and his brain produced another ridiculous example: "Guerrero and me spent four and a half years going at each other over the Bangkok issue and it took Harry, of all people, to resolve it. Do you want Harry to have to come in one day to save your marriage?"
"But what if we just continue fighting?"
"Stick to a few simple rules: Don't name-call or finger point. Keep absolutes out of the conversation. Focus on the issue at hand." A whole package of competent advice! Winston was truly amazed with himself.
"So you're basically advising me to do exactly the opposite of what you do when you're arguing with Guerrero?"
"Guerrero and me aren't aiming at a golden wedding anniversary!"
That got a sob-free chuckle out of her.
As he hung up the phone, Winston glanced at his alarm clock on the nightstand. Seven o'clock. He wondered if a call at seven o'clock am still counted as an early morning call. After a moment of hesitation he dialed the number he still knew by heart.
Michelle was not exactly thrilled by a telephone call making her jump out of the shower, but all in all more curious than angry.
"I… I just wanted to tell you, back when I told you that those counseling sessions were a f... a pointless waste of time…. I was wrong… "
"You were wrong? Laverne, you spent six months of sessions behaving like a fifth grader in detention and in the end you picked a fight with the therapist!"
What could he say? He had been an idiot.
"I'd also like to say that I'm… I'm sorry for all those early morning calls… you must have been worried to death."
A long silence stretched between them. Winston was about to cut the connection when his ex-wife spoke again: "What have you been up to lately, Laverne? It's been ages since we last just talked."
When Winston arrived at the office that morning, his ear was still burning from having pressed the receiver to his ears for more than two hours and he was late for Ilsa's meeting.
So was Ames, and just like him she was pretty unabashed about it. "Some things are just more important", she told him quietly, face glowing.
He could only agree with that.