Chapter 12
"You never said you could cook.... this .... this was really good." Hope admitted as she placed her fork on the empty plate in front of her. Reaching over for the wine bottle next to him, Bobby poured more of the red wine for both of them.
"Mom's priority was never cooking … even when she was in a … even when she was like other mom's. As a kid, my brother and I had a choice. Either eat cereal or peanut butter sandwiches for breakfast, lunch and dinner or learn to look after ourselves. I ... I guess I had it a lot easier than Frank. He was older and he looked out for me. It was a lot tougher on him when we were kids, there was no one looking out for him, after dad left."
His tone started out as if recalling a fond memory, but grew sadder as he spoke. "I'll never understand how the roles switched, maybe it was too much too soon for Frank, too much responsibility … but it broke him and the bond we had as kids." Bobby vigorously scrubbed at the lower half of his face with one hand, before reaching for his glass and taking a large swallow of the bitter brew. Shaking his head, he recognized a terrible truth, "Lewis apparently doesn't know much about wine – this is really horrible."
Hope seemed to be stepping into it with every comment she made today and was beginning to feel guilty for some of her conduct and thoughts about him today. "That must have been difficult for both of you..."
"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger", right?" Bobby grinned ruefully. "What didn't kill you, Hope? What made you stronger?
A small shake of her head accompanied a dismissive, 'phfft'. "Um, well..." Hope cleared her throat before continuing. "Nothing that my childhood in anyway prepared me for. I'm almost ashamed to admit that my childhood was obscenely idyllic."
Bobby let the silence swallow up her words. This was her moment, but it was also her timing. "Well, I really did grow up in St. Louis, my dad really was an executive at Anheuser-Busch, and I did learn about cars from my older brother, Phillip. Mom was a true throwback to the generation of Donna Reed and June Cleaver. Family was everything to her. She looked out for everyone. Anything harsh or negative was kept away from Phillip and me. In retrospect, that probably wasn't for the best.
Bobby ventured a quick question, "How do you mean?"
Now that she had begun and let loose that first trickle of information, she felt the floodgates about to open. She supposed that the first letter to Bobby had set all this in motion several months ago and today was the day to come clean about it all. She thought of the beginning of the first letter she'd written to Bobby:
'How do I say this.. Words are difficult sometimes, hard to express what you truly feel.
So many different ways to say one thing. So I'll just take a deep breath and plunge ahead.
"Well with Phillip, it was the first Gulf War. He enlisted and after basic training, he was gone. He ... um, I can only guess he was unprepared for what he saw. After his tour was up and he left the service, he never came home. I know that our parents heard from him a handful of times, but they never knew where he was. I never heard from him. I was a senior in high school when he came back to the States, but he didn't even bother to come back for my graduation. About 8 years ago, my parents were killed in a car accident, I tried to find him, to let him know. I left messages with a few people I thought he might still be in contact with, but I don't know if he ever got them. But he didn't make it for the funerals."
Bobby knew what that was like. Even after everything he'd seen as a cop and experienced in his own life, it was still surprising to realize, that it wasn't just his family that had been screwed up, everyone's was.
"And what about you?" he asked. "How were you unprepared?"
"Me? Well I guess in my naiveté, I assumed that my life would unfold before me much like my mother's had for her. A simple, uncomplicated life with someone to look out for me. Mine has turned out to be anything but simple and uncomplicated. And I'm not sure anyone's ever looked out for me."
She leaned forward, anxious now to get every secret out.
About a year after college, I had the opportunity to go work in the London offices of a publishing house. My parents were supportive and encouraging, they even came over with me and helped me find an apartment and decorate it. I quickly made friends at work. I was going out, having fun. My work was interesting and challenging. It was a great time."
"Six months later, I was at a book release party when I met David - David Whitledge." She paused to see if he made the name connection. When it appeared that he hadn't, she continued, "He was amazing. Charming. Funny. Intelligent. Attentive. And a little mysterious. I was instantly smitten.
He was working in the Foreign Office in London, but he was aggressively seeking an Embassy posting, anywhere. It took him three years to get an assignment - the Embassy in Cairo. The night he told me about the assignment, he also asked me to marry him, even though we'd never discussed it before.
There was no time for a real wedding; we went to a magistrate's office two days later. His parents were not pleased. They'd never really embraced me. I brought nothing to the marriage of Sir Nigel Whitledge's son. I was a Yank, with no social standing...."
"Nigel Whitledge? The current Home Secretary?"
Hope nodded, "One and the same, although then he was only a ranking member of Parliament."
Okay, so he thought he could see how a new identity had been arranged, but he still didn't know why.
"Once we moved to Cairo, David changed. At first, I attributed it to all the real changes - a new job, a different country, even to us actually getting married. I thought we both just needed time to adjust."
"But he kept spending more and more time away from the Embassy, away from Cairo. He traveled to tel aviv and Riyadh several times a month..."
"He was British Intelligence, MI6." For the last several minutes, he had suspected this is where she was headed.
Hope grimaced and sighed, "Apparently. I never figured it out though. Nigel finally told me the truth about David when I was in the hospital after the ambush that killed David. David had been working with them since university."
Shocked now, Bobby softly asked, "What ambush?"
"Remember that night in the car, when you reached out for the back of my neck and I pulled your hand away?"
He nodded.
"It reminded me of that night. It was our second anniversary and David had arranged a night out on the town. It was extravagant and romantic. All night long, I remember thinking that we'd turned the corner. I don't know that we did. It might have been merely the 'part' he was playing.
"The streets of Cairo are very narrow, and it's easy to box in a car, and ours was. As two men approached, David reached over, his hand to the back of my neck and pulled me down. He... he covered with his body. I could hear rapid gunfire. I could feel David jerking, spasming before I past out."
"Three days later, I woke up in a London hospital. I had been shot six times, but I really wasn't seriously injured, because the bullets had passed through..."
Bobby waved her silent. She didn't need to say it.
It took Hope a minute to continue. "When Nigel told me everything about David, he also said that seeing how I had survived the attack, I might still be in danger. Even though I wasn't involved in David's dealings and had no knowledge of them. He arranged with the British government and our own State Department for a new identity."
My parents were already dead, I had been out of touch with Phillip for years and my husband was dead. Karen Anne Whitledge didn't seem to have much of a future, so I agreed."
"A week later Karen Whitledge checked out of a London hospital and Hope Thornton boarded a plane for New York City and a new job at a small publishing company."
As Hope reached the end of her story, she felt relief - immense relief. She was also wary of how Bobby was going to react to everything she had told him. She couldn't read the look in his eyes and had to avert her gaze. She stood and went over to stare out the French doors, into the very dark night. Her soul baring recitation hadn't brought up the painful and emotional memories she had assumed that it would. Then it had been neither cathartic nor freeing. The emotional detachment at the telling was a surprise for her. She wasn't even angry about today, anymore. Everything had just evaporated.
Bobby watched from across the room as Hope wrapped her arms tightly around herself. Now he knew what adversity had made her stronger. It was, as he thought earlier, 'big picture'. The thing about 'big picture' was there were people, individuals who were always had to deal with the aftermath. He saw it every day.
He stood and joined Hope at the doors. Watching her reflection in the glass, trying to gauge her reaction to him standing next to her, he reached past her to push open the door. "Why don't we go outside, the night sky up here is amazing."
Hope let him guide her outside. As they had earlier, they sat on the stone fence bordering the patio. Raising her gaze to the sky, she saw that he was right. She felt almost as if she could reach out and touch the stars. They seemed that near. They sat in silence as they both were reminded of how immense the world was.
"This really gives you a sense of insignificance, doesn't it?" Hope finally asked.
Bobby shook his head, "Insignificance? No. Perspective."
"Perspective." Hope tried seeing the view that way, she sighed, "Maybe you're right."
In the chill night air, she shivered. Sensing it, more than seeing it, Bobby put his arm around her shoulders. Hope started to rise and he let his arm drop. Disappointment coursed through him, he'd thought they were going to be okay. When all she did was to move closer to him, his spirits rose.
He pulled her closer. She turned towards him, her upturned face all he could see. Her lips parted slightly as she smiled up at him. If he'd never seen an invitation to kiss someone before, he would have recognized the look and opportunity for what it was. He leaned in, his lips pressing gently to hers, his teeth gently raking her lips, before his tongue snaked its way between her own teeth.
