1Finding My Son, Finding Myself

Chapter Two

About half an hour passed and Bobby rose, grabbing his coffee mug. "You want a refill?"

"No, thanks. I can't believe you actually want more of that stuff."

"It not so bad," he chuckled. "You've obviously never tasted Army coffee!" As Bobby took a step away from their desks, he heard Alex sigh.

"Something wrong?"

"No...it's just this darn thing is all dried out," she answered, holding up her yellow highlighter. "You have a spare one in your drawer?"

"I think so – help yourself," he offered, as he continued on his way to the coffee pots.

Alex walked around their desks and opened his top drawer. "Hmmm, what's this?" she asked herself, reaching in and removing the "confidential" envelope. She grabbed two highlighters and left the envelope on Bobby's desk. He returned with his freshly refilled mug and immediately spotted it.

"What's this?" He asked, looking around to see who had left it.

"I don't know," Alex replied. "I found it in your drawer when I got the markers."

Alex watched as Bobby picked up the envelope. He had a funny habit of examining envelopes before opening them, and it always brought a smile to her face as she watched. He would hold them up, turn them over –viewing them from all different angles, as if looking for some outward clue as to what the contents were.

"You'll find out quicker if you just open it," she teased, looking on.

Bobby removed the letter opener from his drawer and carefully slid it along the flap, unsealing the envelope. As he removed the contents, his brow furrowed. "It's, ummm, it's just the background on Vasquez that I asked Morris for last Friday," Bobby muttered to Alex, as he began reading.

Her eyebrows raised in characteristic fashion, "Why would Morris think that's confidential?"

Bobby shook his head, but gave no verbal response, as he continued reading. He had already turned a couple of pages and was totally delved in the records.

Alex continued with her own paperwork. She knew how Bobby got when he was reading or lost in thought — he'd "surface" soon enough and share any important details with her, but she thought to herself, "I don't see why he's even wasting his time reading it– the events of Friday night are over – Vasquez is dead, so what's it matter?"

Alex occasionally glanced up at Bobby, but kept on with her own work. She could sense a difference in the air – a tension that hadn't been there moments before. He was quiet, but shifting in his seat; she stole another glance – his head was tilted farther down, resting on his massive hands which were shielding not only his eyes, but practically his entire face, from her.

"Must be pretty interesting," she said, trying to bait him out of the intensity of his reading. She got no response.

She got that worried feeling in the pit of her stomach. She tried coaxing Bobby into conversation again. "Maybe the Captain decided to take his days off anyway, even if he didn't make it to Vegas– he wasn't due back 'til Wednesday, so I guess he's stayin' home with Cathy."

Again, no response.

She laid her marker down and stared across the desk at Bobby, hoping that he'd feel her gaze upon him and look up from his reading. Something caught her eye. A droplet of water had landed on the papers before him. Her first reaction was to look up at the ceiling, to see which pipe was leaking now, as she grumbled to herself about how long it would taken Maintenance to come fix it.

The screech of Bobby's chair along the tile floor startled her back to attention. He had shot up out of his seat, almost tipping his chair over. He saw the stunned, confused look on Alex's face but offered no explanation. He tried telling her "I've gotta' go," but the words barely came out, as he quickly scooped up the papers and bolted for the hallway.

It had all happened so quickly. It wasn't until she had seen his face that she realized the droplet wasn't from any leaky pipe. She called after him, "Bobby! What's wrong? Where are you going?" He disappeared down the hall, never turning back.

Morris had watched the scene from across the room. He let out a sigh, "Awww, shit...here we go," as he rose from his desk and crossed the squad room. Alex, too, had risen from her seat, ready to chase after Bobby. She didn't notice Morris approaching from behind and was startled by his whisper and the light touch on her shoulder; every eye in the squad room fixed on them; "I'll go after him."

Her head snapped around, her face full of question and concern, "What's wrong with him, Morris? If you know something, you'd better tell me."

"I'm gonna' go after him, Eames, and make sure he's all right." That was all he would offer. Morris bolted towards the hall elevators.

Alex was worried. And angry. She wondered what had gotten Bobby so upset. She knew that Morris knew – the envelope had come from him – and that pissed her off even more. She lowered back into her seat, still feeling conspicuous with all eyes upon her, as she shot an annoyed look over both of her shoulders; her co-workers clearly got the message and returned to their own work.

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Bobby was in the park, two blocks away from One PP and across the street from one of the cops' usual lunch spots. He didn't remember the walk there, or even why he went there. He was lost in the daze of conflicting emotions: anger, sorrow, regret, hurt, betrayal – and it was the latter that only led him back to anger. He crashed down onto the first empty bench he came upon and reached for his handkerchief and his cell phone, dialing while dabbing the tears from his eyes.

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Morris was almost frantic. He had given up on the slow, crowded elevator which was stopping on every floor and had taken the stairs from the seventh floor down. He burst through the door at the Lobby exit and quickly surveyed the area. "At least Bobby's height makes him easier to spot," he thought to himself. As he rushed through the front door, his cell phone rang. He grabbed it from his pocket, annoyed at the interruption, and flipped it open.

"Morris." There were a few seconds of silence.

"This is Morris."

"It's Goren. I'm in the park across the street from the Crossroads Grill. Meet me here– now."

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Bobby flipped his phone closed. He picked up the envelope and read the documents again, letting the reality sink in. There they were: the facts, in black and white.

Bobby's mind began to wander, as he tried to compile and come to terms with his feelings. He was only mildly angry with Morris. He realized that Morris had been put in a difficult situation and Bobby, himself, didn't know how he would've handled it, had the shoe been on the other foot, so he decided to go easy on him when he arrived.

"But Maria Elena, how could she have done this to me?" he thought to himself. The sound of her name running through his mind made his stomach and heart ache. He was furious with her— because she had lied to him and deceived him.

"How could she have kept this from me for twelve years?"

Furious because she had cheated him out of a life that could have been.

"How could she not have told me. I know I was playin' Benny, but what we had was real. I would've married her – I would've done the right thing. How could she not have known that?"

Furious because her unilateral decision to keep Bobby away from his son had forced him, unknowingly and, certainly, unwillingly, into the role he despised more than anything: being an absentee father.

He wiped his eyes again and sat forward, his head resting in his hands, waiting for Morris to arrive.

"Don't worry, Roberto. Daddy's gonna' find you."

END Chapt. 2