Chapter 46

Wednesday, July 8, 1987

The incision Julie received four and a half weeks ago healed, leaving behind an ugly scar on the inner area of her right breast. She studied it in the steamed-up bathroom mirror, speculating when or if the scar would fade and become unnoticeable.

Julie held a tube of medication in her hand and dabbed some cream onto the scar. There was a knock on the bathroom door. Donovan had already showered in preparation for his court hearing. Julie guessed he'd forgotten something.

She closed the robe around her torso, tied its sash then opened the door. Rushing in past her, Donovan snatched up his pocket comb from the vanity. In a hurry, he'd left his toothbrush and toothpaste out. Julie had already put those away.

"Good morning, Mike." She eyed his reflection in the mirror as he fought with a few hairs standing up on his crown.

"Morning," he muttered. Clearly annoyed by his hair issue, he didn't make eye contact with her reflection in the mirror.

Yanking the comb out of his hand, Julie ordered him to, "Sit."

He shot her an icy glance.

"Oh, c'mon, let me help you," she said.

Jerking at his tie with one hand, Donovan closed the commode lid with the other and sat.

"You can help me with this damned tie," he grumbled.

"Certainly." Julie reached behind him for a can of her own hairspray.

She combed and sprayed his hair. After a few attempts, the strands of gray and brown lay flat. Rather than use the hairdryer, Julie blew at the top of Donovan's head.

"You're a strange woman, y'know that?" He smirked.

"It worked."

"I'll be the judge of that." He stood and then examined his hair in the mirror again.

"You should let me dye that mop of yours, so you don't look so… old." Julie grinned.

"Funny, I thought you liked the way I look."

Leering at him in the mirror, Julie noticed the lopsidedness of his tie.

"Your tie is very crooked."

"That's why you're here." He faced her.

Grabbing a hold of the tie, she said, "Funny, I thought I was here for you to get me well." She loosened the tie until it was completely undone then retied it in a perfect knot.

"Thanks."

She followed him into the kitchen and watched him fill his thermos. "Would you like me to make you breakfast?"

"Can't. I'm running late." He collected his wallet and keys.

"You shouldn't go up there on an empty stomach."

Not answering her, he slipped out the front door.

"Good luck, Mike," Julie whispered.

#

Not more than two hours later, Donovan sat next to Sean behind a large conference table. Sean's court appointed lawyer was to his left, and his therapist sat on the other side of Donovan. The Prosecuting Attorney and Trial Commissioner were seated across from Donovan.

"Let's go on the record." The Commissioner turned on a small cassette recorder. "Case number 44-2809. In regards to the interest of Sean Donovan. The prosecutor is present with the therapist and the defendant is present with his attorney and father. Is everyone ready to proceed?" Murmurs of agreement swept through the room.

"Mr. Prosecutor, you may proceed."

"Sean Donovan was initially found guilty of assault and battery against his father's then girlfriend, Melissa Foxx, last December. Sean has a history of violent behavior due to brainwashing by the Visitors," The Prosecuting Attorney, a man with a thick gray beard and bald head stated. "As a result of his sentencing, Sean spent six months here at O'Brien Center, undergoing rigorous therapeutic sessions. Within the first month of his residence, Sean had a physical altercation with another male resident. Both parties were found guilty and sent to solitary confinement. Sean served his sentence there without incident and has since resided at the O'Brien Center without any bouts of physical violence against himself or others. He has one week remaining of his sentence, and seeks to be released next week."

"Do you have any objections to his release?" asked the Commissioner.

"No, your honor," the Prosecuting Attorney said.

The Commissioner nodded at the therapist, a woman in her mid-fifties, who wore bi-focals and her hair tightly wound in a bun. "What is the state of Sean's therapeutic progress?"

"He attended every session without incident," she stated. "He seems to understand he doesn't have the right to physically attack another human being,that he will be under the authority of not only his father, but the laws of this state."

"Would you recommend Sean for release then?"

"Yes, I would, Sir," she said.

"Would you advise Sean be kept under constant adult supervision after his release from the center?"

"Yes, your honor."

There had to be a stipulation, Donovan realized. And I've got no one to watch him. Hopefully they won't ask.

"Mr. Donovan," the Commissioner addressed him. "Are you prepared to provide around the clock supervision for Sean, even while you are at your place of employment?"

"Yes, your honor," he lied, hoping they wouldn't ask for a name. He'd have to call Cathy or someone else who'd willingly lie for him.

The Commissioner addressed the defense attorney. "Would you like to add your recommendation at this time?"

The short man with a hook-shaped nose and nasally voice spoke up. "Your honor, I would like to commend Sean on his cooperation and excellent citizenship as he's carried out his sentence. I will also recommend that he be released as soon as his term is up."

"Are there any other stipulations?" The Commissioner motioned to the Prosecuting Attorney.

"That Sean would continue his education, either by enrolling in school, or by home study."

The Commissioner addressed Sean. "Are the conditions of your release understood and accepted by you?"

"Yes, Sir," Sean answered.

"And you, as his father?" The Commissioner said to Donovan.

"Yes, your honor," Donovan replied.

"And there are no objections?" The Commissioner glanced around the room.

The therapist and two attorneys shook their heads.

"Okay. If there is nothing further to add, this matter will be taken under submission. Let's go off the record." The Commissioner turned off the cassette recorder and told Donovan. "I'll have a decision to you by Monday afternoon."

The commissioner rose from his seat.

Sean's shoulders were tense as Donovan slipped his arm around them.

"You made it this far, Kiddo. I'm proud of you."

Sean nodded, his expression grim.

#

Knowing a quick call to Cathy was in order, Donovan stopped at home on his way to work that afternoon. He gave a quick nod to Julie who sat glued to the desk chair again. Donovan hurried into his bedroom and shut the door.

Cathy wasn't pleased to hear she needed to lie on Donovan and Sean's behalf, but agreed, whatever it took to bring Sean home, needed to be done. Donovan said he'd deal with the consequences, if Sean acted out again. In exchange for a promise to lie, Cathy demanded a visit with Sean as soon as possible.

"Give me a couple weeks with him," Donovan said in a low voice.

"Fine, Mike," she said. "You just remember, he's not only a part of you. He's also a part of my sister. Margie would roll over in her grave if she knew what a jerk you've been about—"

"What do you expect me to do? Let you have unmonitored visitation?"

"That's usually how it works."

"I don't know that he isn't dangerous. He doesn't know you. You've hardly seen him since he was little."

"I'm sure he remembers me."

Remembering and caring are two different things. Donovan glanced at his watch… Two P.M. Dammit.

"I need to run, or I'll be late for work."

"As soon as you hear back from the judge, please let me know."

"Fine."

"And don't just say you'll call me," she said. "Call me, Mike, or I'll call you."

"Mm hmm. Okay. Talk to you on Monday. Bye."

He hung up, and darted to his closet then selected a tan sport coat to match his slacks.

#

In the living room, Julie sat engrossed in records dated December 20th, 1984. She'd heard Donovan come in, but he hadn't uttered a monosyllable to her as he'd hurried to his bedroom, and slammed the door behind himself. Whatever was eating him, she figured she was better off not inquiring about. He obviously wasn't in a good mood, and she assumed the hearing didn't go well.

Julie studied the monitor. Notes on Red Dust bacteria and how an enzyme found in cranberry extract destroyed its pili appeared on the screen.

This is it, I can't believe it. She smiled at the formula. Her Science Frontiers colleagues discovered the formula only a few days before Julie's spying activities for the resistance were exposed. With Nathan Bates dying less than a month later, the research team failed to carry the experiments to completion. By late January, 1985, Science Frontiers had ceased operations.

Julie wanted to call Steve and share today's good news with him, but didn't pick up the phone, realizing Donovan could be on it in his room.

He came out of the bedroom, hustled into the bathroom, and slammed the door.

A moment later, he reemerged.

"How did it go?" Julie asked.

"Dunno yet." He took off the tie. "I'm on my way to work."

"Did you eat yet?"

"No."

"Just give me a minute. I'll make you a sandwich."

She went into the kitchen, and quickly made him a portable meal with two slices of bread, a little bit of mayonnaise and the roast beef she'd fixed last night.

"Thanks." He took the sandwich from her and bit into it.

"It's the least I can do after all you've done for me." Chewing, he muttered, "You're a much better cook than any maid ever could be."

Given his mood, the compliment surprised her. She blushed. "Why thank you, Mr. Donovan."

"You're welcome." After wiping his face with a napkin, he instructed, "Behave. Don't stay up too late on the computer. You'd better be asleep when I get home."

"Or what?" She giggled.

"I'll make you go to bed."

"You will?" she grinned. "That could be fun."

Looking as though he were about to give a comeback, he muttered, "Never mind."

"Bye, Michael," she said softly as he marched to the foyer.

After Donovan's car left the driveway, Julie scrambled to the living room phone then jabbed in Steve's work number.

"Maitland," he answered, sounding agitated.

"I've got the formula," Julie told him.

"You have?"

"Yes!" She grinned, trying to return to the desk with the phone, but its curly cord wasn't long enough to reach. Frowning, she said, "I have to write it down. I'll call you back."

"Julie, what-?"

She hung up.

Julie called him back a few minutes later, passing on an enzyme blueprint formerly lost in the Science Frontiers annals. Steve vowed to start the new experiments right away, and Julie again reminded him she'd return to the lab as soon as possible.

She contemplated taking her car and driving to Metzger today, but thought about how angry Donovan would get, knowing she'd broken their agreement to follow doctor's orders. With one remaining weekly examination coming up this Friday, Julie doubted she'd receive an okay to return to work.