Collateral Damage

Colorado University – Law School - 2002

Professor Calvert threw the paper down on his desk. He pushed his hands at his face, trying to expel the frustration he felt at the moment. A man of principle, he was aware that he faced with quite the dilemma. His best student just handed him a sub par essay and he knew it. He thought long and hard about what his options were. What was his endgame? Teach the student to write good papers? Or teach the student to dig deep and trust herself as a lawyer?

Even though it was college, Myka Bering didn't like being called to anyone's office. It reminded her of being called to the principal's office in grammar school when a bunch of kids were fighting on the playground and Myka got pulled into it as collateral damage. She was sitting on the bench reading, but by the time the teachers got there, everyone was hauled in. She would never forget the look on the principal's face when she uttered her total surprise that Myka was there and expressed how disappointed she was. School had always been a safe haven for Myka. She never disappointed. So when the professor expressed his dismay, it sent Myka spiraling. She wanted to throw up. But Professor Calvert was not there to be punitive. He was there to help one of the brightest future lawyers dig down and believe in her gut instinct.

"This is crap," he said throwing the paper across the desk and felt only a little sorry when he saw the panicked look on his student's face.

"But you asked us to present the facts ….," the young law student said.

"Myka, I think you chose law because you like the black and white," the professor said in a softer tone. "You think because facts are laid out for you, you don't have to worry. But Myka, you lose the most important thing when you rely on just the ipso facto," he cautioned. He saw the quizzically look on her face. "You lose your heart, Bering. You lose faith in yourself and that will never help your client."

Myka cast her eyes down, embarrassed that she had forgotten that. Or did she ever know it? He was right in that Myka did like the safety studying law brought her. Now he was asking her to do something she found very difficult – have self-confidence.

"I'm going to give you something I rarely give people, Myka Bering," the seasoned law professor said. Myka looked up at him. "A second chance. Rewrite this paper, Myka. And not with just the facts of the case. Not just with your brain. Don't leave out your heart, your passion. Your argument is sound, but your voice is nowhere to be found in that paper. Find your voice, Myka."

From that moment on, Myka listened to this man who seemed to know her so well. Knowing the law was never an issue for the intelligent woman; knowing herself was another matter.

Present Day – Wells Corp, Manhattan

Myka was cordial as always when greeting the students in her newly formed class even though it was the last place she wanted to be. The class on Corporate Law 101 took place once a week in the auditorium at Wells Corp and was filled to capacity. Her former professor, who was teaching at Columbia now, never gave up on trying to persuade her to teach a course. Myka finally agreed to teach it after Helena convinced her they should seek outside interests in order to prepare for their lives after Wells Corp. Her wife told her it would give her a taste to see if teaching was something she really wanted to do. At the time, Myka and Helena were so busy planning for their futures that she probably would have tried anything Helena suggested. 'Let's be astronauts!' Myka mocked in an English accent in the mirror one morning to show how gullible she felt she was. 'Go up into space? Without any training? Of course, Helena, why not?' she continued and gritted her teeth.

Now, while she was busy teaching, Helena was busy brooding in the basement.

'Quiz!' she said and there was a collective groan. Truth was, Myka couldn't concentrate and used the test as a ruse to keep from exposing that fact. And she was finally finding a satisfactory way to take her frustration out on the world! Why should everyone else get to go along just fine when the world was torturing her? 'The whole world?' she heard the little voice in her head ask as she put up three questions on the white board and told them to answer in essay form. 'Yes,' she finally answered herself. 'Helena is my whole world.'

She was a mess and worse, it was beginning to seep through. Myka prided herself on keeping her emotions in check, but this was too hard to contain. She was losing it and she knew it. With Helena MIA at work, people sought Myka out to assure them everything was going to be okay. At first, she told them of course, without any hesitation. But as the days wore on and Helena seemed to sink deeper and deeper into her own world, Myka's tone sounded less reassuring.

That was cause for alarm.

Everyone noticed it, but the first to step up and try to do something was Myka's closest friend, Bridget Cummings. When Myka finished the class that day, she returned to her office, feeling guilty that she hadn't taught them anything except how to get swept up in your wife's absence.

"Hold my calls," Myka said to Millie, her assistant who traded glances with Bridget who sat in the waiting area. Myka never even saw her.

"It's bad," Millie whispered because she was certain Bridget was a good friend.

The long legged woman took a deep breath and nodded. Then she went into Myka's office unannounced. "How about lunch, BFF?" Bridget said, making her entrance. She saw Myka smile, but the pain behind it was palpable.

"No, thanks, Bridg, I have so much to do," Myka said, even though her desk was clear.

"Yeah, I can see that. So what's going on, kiddo?" Bridget asked, making herself comfortable and letting Myka know she wasn't leaving until she got an answer.

"Nothing, it's….," and Myka couldn't finish the sentence. She could put on a show for her younger friends, but not with Bridget. "Helena."

"She's been absent from more than one important meeting," Bridget said as an aside, letting Myka know she was aware that something was going on with her wife. "It's not like the Brit."

"No, she's…..," Myka tried to explain and words kept getting stuck in her throat. She tried clearing her throat before adding, " ….working on something." She couldn't even tell Bridget what it was.

"Well, unless she's working on a cure for male pattern baldness, I can't imagine her missing work," Bridget said and really she meant was, upsetting her friend.

"She's kind of focused," Myka said, but it came out more like a question.

"And can I assume that you've tried….," Bridget said, moving up in her seat to get closer, "…different things to unfocus her?"

Myka knew exactly what her dear friend meant, but it tapped into Myka's feeling of being rejected because nothing she thought of worked. "She's working so hard, she's exhausted."

"Look, sweetie, I'm the first one to know what work stress can do to a couple and I can't give you any ideas that you probably haven't considered," Bridget said sympathetically, "…but you're hurting, Myka and I don't know what's got Helena all wrapped up, but maybe she needs a break. An enforced break."

Myka's eyes darted up to meet Bridget's to make sure she understood. She laughed, almost meaning it and asked, "You want me to kidnap her?"

Bridget meant pull the obsessed woman away for dinner and a delicious dessert of naked body parts, but she liked Myka's style. "Okay, that works." Bridget was already planning on how she could help. "Although she knows that martial arts stuff…."

"Bridget! I'm not going to kidnap my wife just so she'll have dinner with me," Myka said, expressing how outlandish it was. The message was delivered on a platter of raw hurt.

"We could get Jane," Bridget continued because she was on a mission.

"We need handcuffs?" Myka asked, but wasn't laughing.

"Hell, no! I could give you …..never mind. We need Jane cause she's strong, you know, we need muscle," Bridget thought out loud. "And don't take this the wrong way, but I think deep down the Detective would love to pin…..okay, never mind."

"You're crazy," Myka said, shaking her head.

"This will work, Myka!" the investment banker declared.

"Bridget, I appreciate it, really I do, but this isn't something that comes with an easy solution. Helena won't listen to me. She's working all day into the night," Myka shared and then gave Bridget the proof she needed that something must be done. "We're not…..sleeping…..together." Myka chest hurt terrible as those words burned her throat.

Bridget just stared, aware of how awful Myka felt. She knew this wasn't the time for planning as much as it was time for listening. "Myka, I'm so sorry…," her friend said. Myka felt her lips moving, as she told Bridget that it had been over two weeks. Helena was distant, disinterested and she prayed it was temporary, but there was no sign of it getting better. Then when Myka worried she had said too much, she assured her friend that it would get better and soon. "I know Helena. She'll come around," Myka said, hoping she sounded convincing.

She didn't.

Bridget knew that was her cue to leave and she hugged Myka and told her she would call her later. Then she said if Myka wasn't doing anything, they'd go to dinner, and Myka smiled okay. Bridget left Myka's office and Millie, who usually had a harsh look for the spontaneous woman, sighed her concern. Bridget knew where to go. She marched right into Irene's office, waving Sandy off because this was an emergency.

"I don't know why I don't just put in a revolving door," Irene said as the tall, well dressed woman barged in.

"Irene, I'm sorry to intrude like this, but I just came from Myka's office," Bridget explained and didn't wait to be asked to sit down. There was no time for formalities.

"Oh," Irene said.

"She looks terrible. I know you're the Helena Whisperer, so I thought you could tell me what's going on here," Bridget all but pleaded.

Even if Irene knew, she would never betray Helena's trust. Bridget knew that walking in, but she needed help.

"I assure you, Bridget I'm trying to get at what is going on myself," Irene shared.

"Well, can we agree that it's probably something going on inside that genius' head and that Myka probably doesn't have anything to do with this? I mean, you know her – is this what she looks like when she's flipping out?"

Irene stared hard at the woman for a few seconds while she decided that Bridget was being sincere. Irene didn't take kindly to someone assuming this was all Helena's doing, even though it certainly seemed like a strong possibility.

"I'm not sure Helena, nor Myka, would appreciate our interfering…," Irene suggested.

"If we were talking about a couple of mere mortals, yeah, I get that," Bridget conceded. "But we're talking about Myka and Helena here. You would think the woman who wrote the playbook on romance that's still in the number one spot of the New York Times bestsellers list, which most experts attribute a rise in marriage proposals to, wouldn't screw up so easily."

The woman had a point.

"Look, Irene, I wouldn't think this was so grave except we're talking about the couple who define true love, okay? And you must have seen that look in Myka's eyes. She's sick with worry," Bridget said bluntly. "We have to do something!"

"Helena…," Irene started and then, much like Myka didn't know what else to say. "Seems to be working on something important."

"Yeah, well, have you ever known her to put anything before Myka?" Bridget asked and Irene had to admit she had a point.

"I tried to talk to her this morning…," Irene said more to herself, but the words were out. The woman felt she needed to state that she had tried because she, too, wanted to help them.

"Did she seem normal? I mean normal for her?" Bridget clarified.

Irene looked at her uninvited guest. "No," she admitted and her answer was no surprise to Bridget.

Bridget was feeling something she detested; helpless, and that didn't sit well with the A-type personality. "Listen Irene, we need to help them and we've only got a few choices. We could get the mini-CEO upstairs, seeing how she's the epitome of amorousness, and toss her down the basement, but I'm afraid Helena will chew her up and spit out the bones," Bridget said, all in one breath.

"Let's leave Ms. Sullivan out of this for now," Irene said, not wanting too many people involved.

"It's only a matter of time before the press starts paying attention to this and when they do, it will only make it harder for Myka," Bridget pointed out.

Everything she said made sense, but it didn't help Irene with figuring out a solution.

"I wish I knew..," Irene said, not wanting to say she'd never seen Helena like this. And she'd seen Helena in some pretty awful places.

"Irene, go do what you do," Bridget said forcefully. "Drastic times call for drastic measures …..and wine, but mostly drastic measures. Go there and talk sense into that woman who only listens to you when she's not listening to Myka. Or…we're going to …..kidnap her," Bridget said, the plan not sounding as good as it did in Myka's office.

Irene pulled back and stared to see if the woman was serious.

"I hope we can come up with something …a little less extreme," Irene pointed out.

"Well, I hope you do, because I'm taking Myka out to dinner tonight. I think you need to go back and visit Doctor Frankenstein in her lab. Don't be so subtle this time. If you can't get her to be human again, we're going to kidnap her and send her on vacation with Myka," Bridget said.

Irene wanted to protest and say that they should never interfere with Helena's work, but the banker was right – they had to do something.

Hopefully, something that didn't endanger their lives.

"I'll go back this evening," Irene said.

"Good! I'll call Jane to get you a taser," Bridget said, getting up to leave.

She noticed Irene didn't say not to.

Myka stared out the window of her office, her thumbs making small circles on her IPhone that she held in her hands as she contemplated her next move. How many texts had she sent that went unanswered? She pushed that question aside and typed – "I love you" – into her phone, pressed send …. and waited.

The message instantaneously flew across the network to its intended receiver several blocks north of Wells Corp, but it never materialized. The device that should have displayed the loving message lay in pieces on a table in the basement, its vibrator ripped from the inside. The tiny device possessed the right caliber for what Helena needed to try next.

But like all of her previous attempts so far, this one failed, too.

Thank you for reading along, and especially to those who posted. I always welcome your thoughts, questions and suggestions.

Apparently, something happened during the break.