Part 3
As he went one way down the hall, towards the exit, she entered on the other side, thereby ensuring that their paths did not cross. In fact, their paths hadn't crossed in days.
She should be thankful because right now she didn't think she could stand to see the grief written on his face. It would be too much, too soon.
When she opened the door to the room, she nearly halted but it was quickly apparent that her entrance had not gone undetected.
She was greeted by a warm smile from the woman keeping silent vigil by the bed, a warmth that she hadn't expected and didn't feel she deserved.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'll go."
"No, nonsense, come in," the older woman beckoned.
Pausing, hesitant, she couldn't bring her feet to carry her in.
"Child, come here," her voice instructed, leaving no room for refusal.
Slowly, her body listened to the instruction and she found herself sitting in the chair, side by side with the woman who didn't deserve this turmoil. A turmoil that she had been unable to prevent.
"It's all my fault," she whispered quietly as the final impact of everything assaulted her mind, the rapid succession of events playing out in her mind until the hard rush of the finality of it all crashed into her and she gasped aloud.
She hadn't expected it but suddenly warm arms embraced her. She felt the sobs and tears that she had managed to hold at bay come to the forefront and the dam welling all of her emotions gave way beneath the loving touch of a mother who had no right to be so loving, not to her.
"I'm so sorry," she cried.
"Hush," said the older woman as she rocked the younger agent in her arms. "You did what you could, you're injured yourself."
Gazes fell upon the cast that protected her broken wrist. There were unseen bruises, covered by her clothing and there was the large hideous bruise that marred the pale skin of her cheek.
"It wasn't enough, I didn't do enough," the younger woman sobbed.
"She would never want you to think that," came the insistent reply. "She never would think like that and she wouldn't want you to either."
"I really should go."
"No, stay with me, stay with her," was the plea. "We won't have tomorrow."
"There are never enough, are there?"
Sadly, the elder woman shook her head, knowing that they both were reflecting on all of the losses they'd endured in their respective lives.
"I guess not."
SMK
He parked his car, sliding the gear into park. Then he sat for a few minutes, gazing out at the darkness. Of all the places that he could have gone, one would think this would be the last place he'd want to be.
But, like voices calling to him in the night, they had beckoned and so he had listened. Funny, how many times in his life he hadn't really listened to the voices. He'd ignored them, pushing them aside because he'd been cocky and arrogant and had thought that he had known better how to handle things in his life.
If he'd only listened earlier, then they would have had more time. Though, honestly, he knew that there was never enough time, not in their business.
Sighing, he opened the door and slid his long body out of the car. Even in the darkness, he made his way easily to his destination. He knelt down upon the grass, inhaling the scent of the roses that he placed down in offering. Beautiful red and pink roses, how ironic was that?
They hadn't had enough time either, he reflected. He shook his head, trying to comprehend any of it and finding that none of it made any sense. Maybe that's how this crazy world operated, on a nonsense basis rather than sanity.
Because right now, there was no rationalization to any of it, at least not to him and there might never be.
"We didn't have enough time," he whispered knowing that there was nobody to hear his agony and yet hoping that they heard. They were the only ones that would understand and yet, wouldn't.
He didn't know if he could handle being left behind, without her in his daily life. He wasn't sure how he'd managed without her and he couldn't even fathom going forward without her. He didn't know if he wanted to.
"We didn't tell the boys yet," he said. "Hell, they're half a world away."
He remembered how she had fretted over that one. But they might not have had another chance to go as no more long stays such as that one seemed on the horizon. They had wanted to go, even insisting that they could give up their summer activities for such an adventure. It was a lifetime opportunity and they had been so, gung-ho, was the word that they had used.
In the end, she had relented, because her youngest had said that it might do them good, some private time alone before the school year started and they had to get back to the business of after-school events. A time to complete adjustments that still needed to be made and a great way to end what all of them had decided had been a pretty awesome summer.
They'd just gotten back to the main city after a long safari trip. A long and painful telephone call and the decision that this was one thing they didn't need to know. They were due back home day after tomorrow and both men had decided that they should be allowed to keep their treasured memories of her smiles and laughter, rather than tainting them with what now remained.
It might actually be the first thing that they had mutually agreed upon, other than the fact that she was one hell of a woman.
And tonight, tonight he mourned the fact that in the end there hadn't been nearly enough time.
SMK
"Daddy, it's getting late, isn't it?" she asked.
"I suppose," he replied.
"Mommy will be worried if we don't go home in time for dinner," she told him in as much of an authoritative voice as a child her age could manage.
He smiled and winked at her.
"You're mother knows how I am. I just want my little girl to have fun."
"She'll be mad at you and you'll be in the doghouse," she told him.
He laughed.
"Where did you hear that phrase?"
"Mrs. McCabbie uses it all the time with Debbie Ann's dad." She leaned in close to him and whispered, "I think he keeps a blanket in the doghouse now."
"I suspect he just might," he replied.
"Mommy won't make you sleep in the doghouse, will she? Cause if she does you'll catch a cold, then you'll be miserable and Mommy will be grouchy."
"Well, we can't have your mother grouchy, now can we Panda?"
She grinned at him.
"No grouchy Mommy," she agreed with him.
"At any rate, it will be time soon," he told her.
"Time for what?"
"You'll see princess, you'll see."
