Chapter 52
Tim managed to hide his growing excitement and nerves from Zahara although he was certain that Ziva had noticed. He had enjoyed seeing what Zahara had purchased, but his mind had mostly been on the ring. Finally, he had asked Zahara to go to dinner with him in a couple of days. She had agreed easily, leaving Tim with the task of figuring out where to take her and where to go afterward. He didn't want to propose with an audience. He didn't want photos. He didn't want video. He just wanted to be able to ask her and he figured he'd be tongue-tied enough without others peeking at him.
But in the end, he found a nice restaurant for an early dinner and then a place in Shenandoah where there would be fewer people in the evening. That was enough. He wasn't going to overthink this. He already was running the risk of thinking too much about whether or not it was a good idea, whether or not Zahara would agree, whether or not he was making a mistake to listen to Carew (and Daniel to a lesser extent) rather than wait until he felt Zahara was ready.
All he had to do was wait.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Carew sat with his phone in his hand. He'd been thinking (as he'd promised) and he was deciding whether or not Tim was right about what he should do. Granted, Tim had been speaking in terms of Tamara, but the broad strokes applied across the board, and while Tamara hadn't mentioned her request in the last few days, he hadn't forgotten it and he knew she hadn't either. It would be wrong to hold her off without an answer, but he found that the idea of exposing himself as she was requesting was more than a little troubling. In fact, in the back of his mind, Carew felt that it was almost frightening to consider.
At the same time, he was a grown man and had faced down people much more terrifying and dangerous than his daughter.
Nodding to himself, he dialed Bri's number and then stared at it for a few moments without connecting. No matter what Tamara believed, Carew was certain that this would accomplish nothing. For very good reason, Bri hated him and he didn't feel that he could or should insist that she change her mind after years of emotional neglect.
Well, there was no way to prove that without trying. It would be a sincere attempt, too. Carew didn't do things halfway or half-heartedly.
He pushed the call button and then lifted the phone to his ear. He was quite certain that Bri would not know how to take this.
"Dr. Carew's office."
"Hello, Bri. Do you have a minute to talk?"
There was a long pause.
"What are you calling me for?"
Carew smiled.
"To make a request."
"For what?"
"I was calling to ask if you'd like to pay us a real visit."
Another long pause and Carew was sure that she was trying to figure out what the reason for this was. If she asked, he'd be honest.
"Mom put you up to this, didn't she."
"To an extent."
"What does that mean?"
"She definitely suggested it, but there were no demands. She doesn't know that I'm calling you right now."
"Do you think that this can make up for all the years before?"
"No, I don't. I don't think anything I could do would."
"Then, why are you bothering?"
"Because the certainty of failure doesn't mean that I shouldn't try anyway."
"I didn't think you got involved in lost causes."
"I only do when the causes are personal. Never when they're professional."
"Dad, why are you doing this? Why are you back with Mom? Why are you going through all this? Why are you coming back into our lives twenty years after you left us?"
"Because I always loved my family, Bri. I don't expect you to believe that. I never gave you any indication of it, but it's the truth. I chose to separate myself from you to protect you."
"You didn't protect Quinn. You got him killed."
Carew knew that she was trying to get a rise out of him, and he knew he'd disappoint her when he didn't change his tone.
"I'm aware of that."
"And you don't feel a thing, do you."
"Actually, every time I see you, I remember that I got my son killed."
Again, there was a pause. This time, Carew felt that there was some surprise in the silence. He pressed on.
"There is no requirement that you say yes. I understand that there's little, if any, hope for a change in how you feel about me. I'm not in a position to demand or even request that you give me a chance. While the bridge between your mother and I may not be completely burned, the one between us likely is. I accept that as just deserts for my actions."
"I have...work to do," Bri said, finally. "I have to go."
"Good-bye."
Carew hung up and sat back. No definite answer, but definitely no softening. Well, he had told Tamara that she was holding out for something that couldn't happen. Bri hated him, and she hated him all the more because she had been a daddy's girl as a child. Carew could smile when he thought of her toddling along behind him, everywhere he went, not even asking for anything, just wanting to be wherever he was. However, he had ruined all that and since it was his own fault, he couldn't do more than indicate that there was an opening. Bri didn't want to take it and he would have to accept that he had irretrievably alienated his daughter.
Then, he looked at his watch. It was time to meet with Dr. Hicks. He got up and headed out.
"Levi?"
He turned and saw the hopeful look on Tamara's face. He hated to dash her hopes, but it wasn't fair to leave her thinking there was any possibility.
"You were listening?" he asked.
"Just enough to know what you were talking about. Who you were talking to."
"Bri hates me, Tamara. That hasn't changed."
"She said no?"
"She didn't answer outright, but the writing is on the wall. I'm sorry, but I can't force her to forgive unforgivable actions. I have to get going."
He turned to leave again, but Tamara caught his hand, pulled him around and hugged him.
"Please, don't give up yet, Levi," she whispered. "You can't see it, but I can. Don't give up."
"Don't hold out for what can't happen, Tamara," he said in return, albeit gently.
"It can. I have to hope because you don't know how."
She let him go and he left.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
Bri sat in her office, staring at her phone. She hadn't thought that anything in the world could surprise her after all the things she'd experienced in the CIA. Go figure that it would be her own father giving her such a shock.
At the same time, she couldn't help thinking that it was just like him to do this to her. She'd got to a point where she finally felt like she was in a good place, she felt stable and secure and suddenly, there he was, saying that he wanted her to visit, admitting to human grief when he had spent most of her life showing absolutely nothing, and saying that he loved his family. It was ridiculous and she couldn't decide if it was depressing or infuriating.
She had about twenty minutes before her next appointment and she decided to eat her lunch. She only got halfway through her sandwich before her phone rang again.
"If this is you again, Dad," she muttered. "Dr. Carew."
"Bri, it's your mother."
"Mom, you put him up to it, didn't you."
"I asked him to think about it, but I didn't know he was going to do it until I heard him on the phone. If I had known, I would have tried to get you to listen to him. Tell me something. Do you hate your father?"
"Mom, nothing you do is going to change what happened."
"That's not what I asked," she said. "Your father is sure that you do. I'm sure that you don't. Which of us is right?"
"Mom, why are you doing this?"
"Because I love both of you and I don't want to live the rest of my life with a broken family. It's been broken for far too long and I want to put it back together as much as it can be."
"It won't ever be whole. There will always be something missing," Bri said.
"Yes, and I think that Quinn would have been more willing to give your father a chance than you are...because you were closer to Levi than Quinn was. Bri, I won't force you to change how you feel, but your father really is making an effort. You want him to be something he can't be. He's trying. Can't you at least meet him part way?"
"You hated him."
"Yes, I did. I hated the director of the CIA, but I always loved your father."
"They're not two different people, Mom. There's only one."
"Yes, it's true, but your father made himself into a different person. He had his reasons. I didn't agree with them, but I understand why."
"And that's enough for you?"
"Yes. It doesn't have to be enough for you, but it's enough for me. Please, Brianna. Give your father a chance. He won't be like he was. I don't think that's possible, but he can be better...if the people he cares about help him, even when he doesn't think he needs the help. And you don't need to talk about deserving it. He knows he doesn't. He doesn't want to ask for what he doesn't deserve, but I am asking you to give him the chance you don't want to give him. Please?"
The thing that bugged Bri the most is that she never felt like she could outright refuse when her mother asked her to do things.
"I can't promise anything," she said, finally.
"I'm not asking for promises. I'm asking for effort."
"Okay."
"Thank you."
"I have to get to work, Mom," Bri said.
"Then, I'll let you go. I love you."
"I love you, too."
Bri hung up and took a deep breath. Then, she shook her head and got ready for her next appointment.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
The clouds were building. It looked like they were in for a thunderstorm soon. Carew looked out the window for a few minutes without speaking, remembering that his completely illogical directions had actually led them to where Tim and Zahara had been left. That had been a slim chance and he was amazed that it had worked out, but that was how he had often worked. He made decisions very quickly and firmly, rather than wasting time, standing around, wondering which decision was right.
The door behind him opened.
"Levi, you look very deep in thought."
"Self-reflection," he said and turned around.
Dr. Hicks smiled at him and limped back to his usual chair. He'd had to step out to consult for a few minutes in the middle of the session.
"My feet are improving," he said as he propped them up on a footrest. "My doctor said that they'll improve faster if I take it easy on them. I'm attempting to follow my doctor's advice."
Carew sat down.
"Do you ever regret being saved?" Carew asked.
"No," Dr. Hicks replied, without hesitation. "Do I hate the pain? Yes. Do I hate that it happened at all? Yes. But do I regret being saved? Absolutely not." He smiled. "I still remember that day as one of the best days of my life because I knew that the agony would be over. ...and you were my savior that day, Levi."
Carew rolled his eyes slightly.
"I'm not using the word in the Christian sense, necessarily. It means one who saves or rescues. Literally, that is what you did for me. You took me off of that table and out of that room and into the light for the first time in a year. You can dismiss the description all you want to, Levi, but you were my savior, and I'm grateful for it, pain and all."
Then, Dr. Hicks' expression changed.
"I'm especially grateful because I know what you ended up having to sacrifice for that. I don't know if the tradeoff was worth it."
"It's always worth saving a life, if possible," Carew said.
"Is that why you agreed to help Ray Cruz?"
"I did that because Agent McGee insisted."
"No, Agent McGee insisted on the confrontation. What came later was all you, and Ray is much better off now than he would have been. But he'll never rid himself of the guilt."
"He shouldn't. He committed murder," Carew said.
"Yes, he did, but he can at least accept his own actions now. ...which is more than you do."
"I have long since accepted my actions, Dr. Hicks," Carew said. "I have also killed quite a few people in my time. I accept the choices I made as necessities, even though I hurt my family in doing so, since I know that's what you're referring to."
"But you don't accept the changes you could make. You want things to be on the path you choose and you control." He paused and then smiled. "In a way, you're a lot like Tim, only his need for control was borne of desperation and pain. But you both want to be able to control the world around you so that anything that happens is what you have allowed to happen. Any mistakes are your fault and any triumphs are yours. Every decision, good or bad, is yours. It might leave you alone, but at least, you made the decision. You have a chance to change things. Sure, you're getting older and maybe changing is harder to do, but you still have the chance."
Carew looked at him with some amusement.
"You seem to still have the same rose-colored glasses you've always had, Dr. Hicks."
"No," Dr. Hicks said, and Carew was surprised to see pity in his eyes. "No, Levi. I don't see the world through rose-colored glasses. I see the world as something that can always change for the better. And, in part, you're responsible for my outlook."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes. You came into the world of pain I had grown to assume was permanent and you changed it. I assumed there was no end to the pain, that I would be like that forever, but you came into that room and you changed my entire world. Even when things seem set in stone, they can change. You can make the decision to change, and you're doing it, even though you're figuratively kicking and screaming the whole way."
Carew smiled and sat down.
"So, now, your turn. Tell me something I don't know."
This was a part of every session he had with Dr. Hicks. It was like a rehearsal for the rest of his week. He was supposed to tell something about himself that he didn't want to tell. Carew supposed that this was useful, but he had to admit that he hated it.
"I called Bri just before I came here."
"And?"
"And I did as Tamara asked me to do, and it just proved to me that my daughter has no intention of forgiving me."
"You can't expect forgiveness to come in a single conversation," Dr. Hicks said.
"I don't."
Dr. Hicks smiled. "No, you don't expect it at all."
"I don't deserve it."
"Why not?"
"Because my neglect was deliberate. My intentions were good, broadly speaking, but the results weren't pleasant."
"And how did you feel when she rejected your attempt?"
Carew raised an eyebrow at Dr. Hicks. That sounded way too much like a stereotypical shrink. Dr. Hicks smiled at his reaction.
"There's a reason why that's associated with therapy, Levi. Especially in your case where you don't like talking about how you feel. Actions and decisions are easy for you, but you don't like to even admit you have feelings."
"Actually, it was almost a relief."
"Why is that?" Dr. Hicks asked, serious again.
"Because I don't want to have to deal with her hating me, and... she's my only child. Now."
Dr. Hicks nodded.
"So will you try again?"
"I doubt it. If she indicated that she might be open, I would, but without that, I see no point."
"Levi, this is your daughter, not a CIA mission. You can't treat it the same way. She has to have time to get over your deliberate neglect. If you keep at it, she'll mellow over time."
"You don't know my daughter."
"No, I don't. I never had her as a client, but I'm more familiar with how children are in general. You should give her more than one chance. ...and Levi, you don't need to engage in self-flagellation to prove your point. Figurative or physical, all that will do is hurt. It won't make anything better, not for you or anyone else."
Carew looked at his watch. He was meticulous about starting on time and stopping on time.
"Finished," he said.
Dr. Hicks looked at the clock. "You're correct, as usual."
Carew stood and started to leave, but then, he thought about what Tim had said to him and about the photograph that was still in his wallet, that reminder of the horrors involved in lying. He stopped at the door, but he didn't turn around.
"I've never had rose-colored glasses that I remember," he said, softly. "My mother may have, but she lost them in the war, and my father definitely didn't, either. I've never seen the world like that, not even as a child. I can't fathom what the world must look like to someone like Agent McGee."
"He doesn't see the world through rose-colored glasses, Levi. Tim is well-aware of how bad the world can be."
"And yet, he hasn't let it ruin him. He actually said that there is only one thing he can't forgive me for, and even with that, he also said that he would help me if I needed help."
"Are you saying that you're ruined?"
"Yes," Carew admitted. "But I did it on purpose, never thinking that I'd have to try to rebuild. I was likely to die, first. So it didn't matter."
"And you didn't die."
"No, I didn't."
"Maybe you should take a page from Tim's book and refuse to accept the ruins."
Carew smiled. "Maybe."
Then, he left.
x.x.x.x.x.x.x
The clouds looked ominous and threatening, but Tim didn't care. He was focused on tonight and on what would happen with Zahara. He was excited and nervous.
...and he had the ring in his pocket.
