Lee soon realized that his relocation away from the Q Bureau provided him with a new avenue for wooing Amanda while at the same time allowing her the space she needed, and Amanda was relieved to be able to focus on work without any of the emotional angst of the past weeks. It really was therapeutic for her.
On their first day apart, Lee left a card and a single rose on Amanda's desk. The outside of the card read: "Hope you have a good day." Inside, however, he had written her a message in code. Upon opening the note, Amanda was quickly able to decipher the code using her recently acquired skills from her Codes and Ciphers class. The message read, "Beaman is lucky to have you by his side. I should know! And just think, three years ago you could not have deciphered this!" Amanda smiled in spite of herself. He was acknowledging her growth as an agent.
A couple of days later, she opened the refrigerator to find a sack lunch with a note: "For Amanda-A BLT, with just a touch of mayo-not as good as yours, but not too shabby. And you were right—we were 'not exactly' just keeping warm."
She blushed at the memory of their night in the swamp—the cuddling by the fire—the feeling of his breath on her lips….
On the Friday before daylight savings time, she found an especially clever gift awaiting her. She opened a box to find a cuckoo clock with a note that read: "In case you never got one in Munich during the counterfeit mix up. When you hear the cuckoo, I hope it reminds you of how crazy I am for you."
Amanda smiled at the sweet corniness of the gesture. There was something so… innocent about these gifts. He was making an effort to redeem what had been sullied by his mistakes.
Just before Mother's Day, she arrived to find a wrapped gift on her desk; she opened it to discover a Battleship game set. She had mentioned once that the boys didn't have one, and Lee had remarked how much he loved playing the game in his youth.
The note attached read, "To the Best Mother I Know: You may be tired of playing games with me, but I know how much you enjoy games with your boys."
Amanda was so moved that he remembered a passing comment about a game—and that he was thinking of Philip and Jamie as well. And she was frankly amazed that a man notorious for giving everyone a scarf for Christmas was selecting such personal gifts that echoed with memories of their special connection.
When Lee heard Amanda mention to Billy that she and her boys were going on a camping trip, Amanda received: "Scarecrow's Survival Kit." Inside was a variety of items, including a belt, change for the phone, a single match, and marshmallows.
It was clear that these seemingly mundane items held meaning for Lee because they represented moments they had shared together- intense, even intimate, moments.
His note read: "Hope these will be helpful-for my favorite Junior Trailblazer."
The gifts, while a visible reminder of the many experiences they shared, were in some way also a reminder of all they could lose. Amanda couldn't understand how a relationship built over years could be so cavalierly forgotten at a hotel bar.
But Lee's efforts now to woo her… his determination… was… thrilling. He could have easily moved on to any number of alluring women by now—but Amanda had observed how he routinely ignored the young women in the office who made a point to cross his path. Instead, he was sweetly, patiently, courting her.
Amanda wasn't quite sure how to respond to him yet…. she had been so harsh-rightfully so, she thought. But she was beginning to realize that she might be making the rashest of mistakes to let his momentary lapse in judgment mar what had become the most meaningful relationship in her life.
SMK
Lee was miserable. Though each gift was affecting Amanda in specifically positive ways, he was deflated. If his gifts were making an impression, he had no indication. Amanda hadn't responded to any of them.
He decided it was time for a more serious gesture. What would be the most significant statement he could make? Over the days that followed, an idea occurred to him-and as much as he cared about Amanda—the thought of this particular gesture did make him just a tad bit queasy. But, if this didn't show his sincere commitment to beginning with a clean slate, nothing would.
When Amanda entered her office on Friday morning, she found a bundle of small books on her desk, with a note. It read: "This is a gift you may wish to glance over rather than peruse closely, but the choice is yours. These, as you may recall, are my infamous little black books. I am giving you these. They are not a loan. I do not want them back. I have no use for them anymore. Your number is the only one I need. Yours, Lee."
Over the weekend that followed, Lee began to panic that the gift of the little black books was inappropriate; she might think it unseemly- a trophy case demonstrating his conquests. After the innocent references to her boys and even the Trailblazers, why had he taken a detour to his lurid past?
By the time he reached the office on Monday morning, he felt nauseous by the thought. It was possible, entirely possible, that the sheer volume of names in those books would be revolting to Amanda. My God… what had he been thinking?
His mind was reeling now. What if she quit the agency? He swung open the bullpen door, steeling himself to face the worst. What he found instead were the black books on his desk, tied with a ribbon and attached to a note.
Was this her way of giving him the brush-off?
His hands, the very hands that had defused bombs and handled plastic explosives, were shaking as he opened the note. He began to read: "Lee, I decided to take your suggestion and just briefly glance over the names in these books."
Lee swallowed hard. Here it goes. This is what he feared. His past laid bare was just too tawdry for her.
He continued reading, "These names represent your past, and I am honored you would entrust me with them. But I don't need to keep them. I have trusted you with my life many times; I have trusted you to keep Mother and the boys safe. I now believe I can trust you with my heart as well. Yours, Amanda."
Every syllable brought him so much relief and joy—the final two words most of all. She had mirrored his closing. He had questioned how to sign each gift, and so he had avoided signing them at all—until the black books, which he had signed "Yours, Lee." He was indeed hers if she would have him. With her closing, she had signaled the same.
As Lee placed the note on his desk, he realized his hands were still shaking, and his eyes had begun to fill with tears. All his life he had been running from commitment-but he had never been so desperate to run to someone—and now, he had been caught. Thank God for that.
To Be Continued
