I Will Remember You

See Prologue for Disclaimer

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Wednesday, March 26, 1986

Amanda's visit . . . from Lee's POV

"Goodbye, Scarecrow. Be sure to tell Lee I'll miss him."

His eyes furrowed in confusion. Scarecrow? He winced inwardly and stared at the floor. Amanda now saw him as the man everyone believed him to be. That knowledge twisted and turned inside him. It never mattered what others thought of him . . . He couldn't bear to see his reflection in her eyes. Before he could react, the phone startled him and caused him to release his hold on the door. He helplessly watched the door swing shut on the only thing in his life he wanted and the one thing he couldn't have.

"Goodbye, Amanda," he whispered. The lone tear streaming down her cheek did not go unnoticed. He hated to see her cry but knew that no matter what happened he needed to stay out of her life. It didn't matter if they found the book in time. This had to be the end of their relationship. He owed her that much.

When he had heard Amanda talking to Agent Brawer in the hallway, he had scrambled to stage things to make it appear that he'd been up all night drinking. At first, he told himself it was because he didn't want to give her false hope. He now realized that he didn't want to give himself false hope. They needed a clean break . . . no matter how hard. And though Lee longed to drown the pain in his chest with the contents of one of the bottles he'd strategically placed on the coffee table, the incessant ring of the phone was his first priority.

"Hello?"

"Scarecrow, do you have any idea how much you owe me for interrupting my evening to interrogate Sleece again? Do you know who I was with last night?"

"Yes, I do, and from what I hear his 'backgammon game' doesn't last long. So, you should be thanking me."

"When you have a bank account as large as his, time doesn't matter."

"I'll take your word for it, Francine. What did you find out?"

"Do you remember that technique I used in Singapore in '81? I told you it would have worked if you hadn't have interrupted. It worked like a charm this time. I was able to extract some very interesting information from our troublesome extortionist."

"Are you done tooting your own horn? I'm waiting for some of my 'family' to call me back. What do you have?"

"I'll tell you on the way to the airport. We're booked on a four o'clock flight to Rio. I'll swing by and pick you up in an hour."

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Saturday, March 29, 1986

Three days later . . .

"Amanda, have you seen the box marked 'books' with your grandmother's silver in it? Amanda's mother yelled from the dining room. When they had been told they could return home the family had been so excited but Amanda felt an underlying sadness. Laying in bed the night before she realized why. As long as they moved away it was a clean break. No chance of bumping into Lee at a local restaurant, no backyard filled hidden shadows or memories of stolen moments to remind her.

"Why would you label a dining room box 'books'?" Amanda was standing in the cluttered kitchen absently emptying the large box marked 'kitchen.' She really needed to talk to her mother about her habit of buying so many cans of chicken broth. How many cans could one family use in a lifetime?

"Don't you remember that story on the news not too long ago about movers stealing valuables? I would feel awful if we lost the silver."

"Mother! The agency packed our things. Do you honestly think they would steal something from us?" Amanda shook her head in disbelief.

"Well, you never know. I'm certain they're not all as nice as that Mr. Melrose who came by the hideout to tell us it was all over."

"Safe house, Mother. It was a safe house." Her mother's eyes bored into the back of her head, but she continued tossing items into the cupboard to the left of the sink.

"Well, if you ask me, you spies spend too much time worrying about codenames and not enough time catching the bad guys."

Amanda nodded knowing there was no changing her mother's mind on the subject.

"Amanda dear, you just put the oven mitts in with the canned goods. What has you so preoccupied? You hardly spoke at dinner, and now this. I would think you'd be feeling on top of the world since this mess is all behind us." Amanda moved around her mother to return the oven mitts to their rightful home, but her mother's grasp on her forearm stopped her. "It is all behind us, isn't it?" Worry creased her mother's face. Things were finally becoming comfortable again with the boys and Mother, but she still felt guilty for all the lies and trouble she had put them through. During last night's family meeting they had assured her they understood, but that didn't mean they weren't hurt by the deceptions of her double life.

"Yes, it's all behind us now." Amanda patted her mother's hand and grabbed a small box off the island. The sooner she returned her home to normal the sooner she could get back to work. An inner torment gnawed at her when she thought of what it would be like to return to the Agency knowing Lee didn't want her in his life. Would he refuse to work with her and ask Mr. Melrose to assign her to another agent? Could she still work with him considering the way she felt? Could she work with someone else? The only alternative would be to resign and that would be running away. She'd face a safe . . . boring future.

Amanda sighed. "I know I've put you and the boys through a lot over the past week and I'm very sorry. Things will be different around here. No more lying. No more late night vanishings." No more Lee. Amanda added silently. For the third time, she caught herself peering out the kitchen window, knowing he wouldn't be there but still hoping he'd suddenly pop up. He hadn't bothered to come by the temporary safe house to tell her they had found the manuscript, so what made her think he'd show up now—almost two days later?

Maybe she should drive by his place. Perhaps he was too embarrassed to come by on his own. He was waiting for her to break the ice . . . No. She had given him enough opportunities to be honest about his feelings for her and he'd made his feelings perfectly clear: he wanted her out of the Agency and out of his life. Mother always said, if you love someone let them go, and if they come back to you . . . Well, her mother never met Lee Stetson, stubborn to the core.Her stomach wrenched as his final words echoed in her head: "Go live your life. We'll both be better off." They cut her like a knife and he made sure to twist it deeper.

"All right darling, that does it for me tonight. I'm going to go soak in a nice hot bath." She rubbed her neck. "I never want to move again!"

"I promise, no more moving." Amanda smiled, but doubted it made it to her face. "Enjoy your bath, Mother."

"Whatever or whoever it is that has you so upset . . . I'm sure it will all work itself out. You know what I always say: If it's special it will last." She kissed Amanda on the cheek and tenderly rubbed her back. "Goodnight, love. Be sure to lock up." She turned gingerly and hobbled up the stairs.

"I will. Good night." Amanda wished she could be as hopeful about her future as her mother was. But after two days and still nothing, it was obvious he wanted nothing to do with her. As if he hadn't proven that to her when he let her walk out of his apartment knowing that would quite possibly be the last time he'd see her. She thought, when push came to shove, he'd admit what she knew in her heart to be true. But he was either too stubborn or . . . he didn't love her.

Her breath shallow; her senses drugged—she needed fresh air. Grabbing her purse and car keys, she was nearly out the back door when she thought better of it and put them back down on the island. She needed to give him space. He was certainly aware of her feelings—it was up to him now. She wouldn't beg. Amanda reopened the back door and slid out into the backyard. If she couldn't see him, she could at least be surrounded by memories.

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TBC . . .