Saturday evening (Audrey's take)
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Audrey lifted the hem of her long gown carefully as she ascended the grand staircase to the first floor, where their table was. Her heels clicked lightly against the polished marble, and she focused on the task of keeping her dress from brushing the ground. Paul walked beside her, his hand outstretched to offer assistance, but she declined with a polite smile, explaining that she needed both hands to manage the delicate fabric. She hadn't spoken much to him all evening, her thoughts consumed by Jack's voice, still lingering in her mind after their conversation earlier.
All night, she had followed Jack's advice: don't apologize, don't mention the past, let others talk. So far, it had worked. She had sat through the opening dinner, smiled politely, exchanged pleasantries with people she didn't care to know, and remained a quiet observer as Paul discussed work with the McLennan Forster executives. She barely registered the details of their conversation—something about a project Paul was involved in—but none of it mattered to her. She had only been thinking of Jack, the whole evening long.
Her thoughts drifted back to that morning. She had felt guilty for how far her mind had wandered the previous night, for using the memories Jack had shared with her so selfishly. She hadn't been able to help it. And when noon came, she gave in and called him. Jack had already been up for hours, having spent time in the gym. Audrey's mind had run wild again as he casually mentioned his workout. She couldn't stop herself from picturing him—sweating, muscles taut, pulling his shirt off after an intense session. She quickly pushed those thoughts aside, trying to focus on their conversation, but these thoughts lingered, even now.
Their conversation had flowed easily, like they hadn't skipped a beat. Audrey had been busy, but with earphones in, she let Jack's voice accompany her as she cleaned her apartment, prepared dinner, and laid out her dress for the ball. He had asked about her plans, and she told him – hesitatingly – about the prestigious event she was attending that night. She felt a little awkward admitting it—the $2,500 ticket, the opulence of it all, Paul had paid for everything. She could hear the discomfort in Jack's voice, even though he tried to hide it. Their lives couldn't have been more different. Jack, telling her about the time he was 18 and practically homeless, and Audrey, preparing to attend an event filled with wealth and excess.
It felt awkward, to ask Jack just minutes later to share about a time when he had almost nothing. He and Teri had been a couple ever since that first night they spent together at the house at Indian Springs. He stayed there, with her, for a few weeks, even though he wasn't part of the group. There was some tension with the others at first, but Jack soon became the only one in the camp with a job and access to things they needed. He had found work at a friend's garage—a friend of the guy who had once sold him that gun, he mentioned—and the occasional bottle of whiskey or the sixpacks he brought back from the city just felt like paying rent. The protesters accepted him and Teri as a couple, and he was just her plus one. Sometimes, when Jack had a day off, she wouldn't join the others in their protests. Instead, they'd ride out to the beach or the hills, or stay back at the house, just enjoying their time together.
Audrey had listened as Jack told her about the day Teri went back to UCLA for summer courses. He drove her there, to the same campus where he himself had registered for engineering courses just half a year earlier and which would have started in September. Not that engineering had ever been his dream—his father had pushed him in that direction—but still, it was strange to be back. Jack had been feeling restless. Working at the garage wasn't a long-term plan, and he didn't see himself staying there forever. But he hadn't yet figured out what came next.
As Teri returned to her studies, Jack found himself adrift, staying on friends' couches or crashing in Teri's dorm, whenever it was possible, because he couldn't afford to get a decent apartment. She shared her ideas of her dreams with him—dreams of seeing the world. She'd never traveled much, never really left the Los Angeles area. Her family didn't have the means, and she was attending UCLA on a scholarship, with some help from her grandparents. She worked small jobs throughout the year to get by, but it wasn't easy. Jack hadn't told her much about his own past yet, certainly not that he had a pilot's license. It was of no use anyway – he didn't have the money to rent a plane. He hadn't wanted to bring up his connection to his father, the company or his wealth that Jack despised ever since their falling out. He no longer had access to it.
Audrey had finally asked him about how he had ended up in the military. His answer started that summer day when he dropped Teri off at UCLA. As he was leaving, he saw ROTC recruiters offering full scholarships in exchange for military service. Jack had dismissed the idea at first. It wasn't what he had imagined for himself. The garage where he worked being close to Van Nuys airport, airplanes passed over him all the time and he looked up, admitting to himself that he missed flying. He applied for a job at an airline, but they turned him down after the interview, something about the psychologist's assessment of him. They thought he wasn't the type to follow protocol – unsuitable for becoming an airline pilot.
Frustrated, Jack had begun thinking about the Air Force. He already had a pilot's license, after all, but the private pilot's license didn't matter much. They required a college degree, something he didn't have. They suggested he join the ROTC program to earn a degree and then try again. And so, Jack found himself back at the ROTC office, considering his options. He hadn't committed to anything yet, but the possibility lingered.
That evening, Jack had known he needed to talk to Teri about this. He couldn't make this decision without her, even though he guessed it would be a difficult conversation. She was a pacifist, and here he was, contemplating joining the military. But he also realized, after only a month together, that he didn't want to let her go. He didn't want to make such a decision without talking to her first. He wanted to be honest. And above all, he couldn't hide any more who he really was because he didn't want to lose her.
Audrey could hardly believe it when Jack told her about the lie that had been between them up to then. He hadn't even told Teri his real last name. She had known him as Jack Bender, not Bauer. He had been sure she'd think differently of him, if she found out he was connected to Bauer Oil Exploration & Drilling Co.—the very company they were protesting against. He had feared she would end things if she learned the truth.
Audrey had felt tension building as Jack recounted the night he finally confessed. He had taken Teri to a nice restaurant by the beach, spending some of the money he'd saved. Over dinner, he told her the truth. "It's not Bender. It's Bauer." At first, Teri was confused, asking why he had lied, why it even mattered what his last name was. But soon, the connection clicked. Bauer. Jack had braced himself for her anger, her disappointment. But instead, Teri calmly asked about his family, quietly listening to him explain that it was his father's company. That he hadn't been fired but that he had chosen to leave everything behind, because he couldn't live with their heartless decisions to invest in the new technology, go behind the backs of their business partners to widen their influence or fire their Mexican workers instead of admitting their own shortcomings.
Jack had been ready to apologize, even beg for her forgiveness. But Teri hadn't asked for that. Instead, she had leant over the table and kissed him. Then, she made her own confession: that she was still 17, not 18, as she had told him on their first evening, sure that he'd not want to get closer to her if he had known her real age.
She had skipped a year of high school, joining college earlier than most, just six months ago, just after her 17thbirthday. He just leant back over the table and kissed her back. It didn't matter to him. Learning that their birthdays were just three days apart—and of course a year—felt like being even closer.
Audrey sat beside Paul, watching as he mingled effortlessly with the powerful and wealthy attendees of the charity ball. She absently listened to the speaker on stage, talking about the millions of Americans without health insurance who this foundation wanted to help, and yet, her mind was far away, caught up in Jack's voice and the stories he had shared with her earlier.
He had told her about the good times he'd spent with Teri, the simple joys they had found in each other's company. Their trips weren't grand—they couldn't afford to travel far—but they made the best of what they had. He remembered how they'd taken his motorbike out to nearby places, camping with a tent because it didn't cost much, and how Teri had introduced him to her surfer friends. Surfing quickly became a shared hobby, much cheaper than flying airplanes or even helicopters. Audrey could hear the fondness in his voice as he recounted those days, how he must have felt free and happy.
It was on one of those trips, after Teri told him she'd be okay with whatever decision he made about the military, that Jack made a mental commitment. He knew, deep down, that he never wanted her to leave his life. The very next day, he retrieved his mother's golden necklace from a small box where he kept her few precious belongings. He gave it to Teri, carefully placing it around her neck. Teri instantly knew, just by the way he handled the necklace, that it was a precious piece that meant much to him.
Audrey hadn't been paying attention to the speech, but when the others started applauding, she joined in as well. Her thoughts were far away, musing on Jack having told her about the dreams that he'd had and that he hadn't managed to make true. Like flying. Or his plans of joining the Air Force ROTC program, a dream that fell short when his high school grades weren't good enough to be admitted to the program. Instead, he ended up in the Army ROTC, but he didn't care. He and Teri made plans—they would endure those four years of active service, and in return, they'd see the world together. They talked about him trying to get stationed abroad, maybe in Europe or South America, and Jack even started preparing by enrolling in Spanish and German classes. These languages, he thought, might increase his chances of being transferred to a foreign base.
Audrey imagined Jack at that time, cutting back his hours at the garage, moving into the dorm provided by the ROTC. They didn't have much, but he told her about the happy times they'd shared. The money he earned was just barely enough to live and buy gas for the bike, their only mode of transportation. They didn't need anything else—they had each other.
Audrey shifted in her seat as her eyes glanced over at Paul, dressed impeccably in his expensive suit. They had even walked past the presidential table earlier, with the former president himself sitting nearby. Everything about tonight screamed wealth and privilege, and yet, Audrey couldn't stop thinking about Jack's words, about how different his world was.
Her mind wandered back to her own university days at Yale, where she had never once worried about money. Her father had taken care of everything. She met Paul there when they were twenty-one, and even then, he had always had enough money. Paul had never experienced the hardships Jack had faced—living in a crowded dorm, scraping by with garage work, owning a bike because a car was too much. Paul had always been safe and secure. Jack, on the other hand, had risked everything by choosing a military path, even though it could have cost him his life.
As Audrey sat there, the speaker droning on about health insurance, she thought about how Jack and Teri had none back then, except for the brief periods when Jack was considered active during the ROTC military training. That lack of security weighed heavily on him, especially when, in 1986, Teri found out she was pregnant. Jack had been 20, Teri 19, and everything suddenly changed. He felt the pressure of providing for a family, and for the first time, he seriously considered leaving the ROTC and getting a regular, menial blue-collar job just so they could have health insurance and not wait until he'd finish his degree and join active service. But he would have been forced to pay back the scholarship and serve as an enlisted soldier, something he couldn't afford either. He stood with his back against the wall.
The ROTC officers had offered him an opportunity back then—he could switch over to an active status, if he joined ranger training, and finish his studies later. That way, he and Teri would be covered, and they could start a family without the looming fear of being uninsured. It was his only chance, so he trained relentlessly, every day, to meet the physical demands of that ranger fitness test. Audrey knew the test's reputation. It was one of the hardest. As she glanced at Paul again, she wondered if he had ever even tried to do a single pull-up, let alone push himself to the limits like Jack had.
Jack told her how, after Teri told him she was pregnant, they got engaged. He wanted to ensure that she and their child would be taken care of, especially if something happened to him. The day after he was accepted into the ranger programme, he proposed to her. He had gone back to that same box of his mother's jewelry and took one of her rings to give to Teri. He even sold his mother's Christmas earrings—the ones she had only worn once a year because they were so valuable. He needed the money to provide for Teri and the baby, but he knew in his heart that his mother would have understood.
As Audrey listened, she felt a warmth growing inside her. Jack had gone lengths to take care of his family. Teri had gotten pregnant in the spring of 1986, and Jack was about to take a break from the ROTC program in September. He switched his major to English literature, finding it easier than continuing with Spanish and German, especially with having to provide for a family. Their dreams of seeing the world – of looking to being transferred to a foreign base had drifted away at the thought of having a family. They agreed that their child shouldn't be one of them who were dragged across the world, always having to meet new people, adjust to a new school or be dislodged year after year.
Jack's voice had softened as he recounted their last big trip together before everything changed. It was late July, and they rode his beloved motorcycle to Las Vegas. He hadn't just stuck to the speed limit this time—he went even slower. Audrey could hear the fondness in his tone as he described the feeling of Teri's arms around his chest, her belly pressing against his back, reminding him that it wasn't just the two of them anymore. He was going to be a father, and it thrilled him, though he had never planned on becoming a father age 20. When Teri playfully urged him to go faster, he laughed but didn't comply.
They got married on July 28th, 1986—two years after the day after they first got together. It wasn't a grand wedding, just a quick ceremony in Vegas. Their honeymoon was just two days, the only thing they could afford, but Audrey could sense that, for Jack and Teri, it had been perfect.
When they returned from Las Vegas, Jack made another big sacrifice. He sold his motorcycle—the 1983 Yamaha YZR500 that had been his pride and joy. It had been a costly bike when new, but he had used it daily for three years, which significantly reduced its value. Still, they needed the money, and so they bought an old station wagon instead, to get ready for being a family.
At the end of August, Jack shipped out for Ranger training, fully aware that failure wasn't an option. The odds were stacked against him—only half of the candidates graduated—and the physical and mental toll was immense. Sleep deprivation and hunger became constants. He went days with barely any rest, forced to push his body to the limit while running on empty. The rations weren't enough; his stomach was constantly gnawing with hunger. His body, got wrecked and strengthened at the same time, battered by endless patrols and brutal drills.
But it wasn't just the drill sergeants looming over him—it was the weight of his family's future. Jack couldn't afford to fail. Looking back, he assumed that was the thing that had kept him going, while others of the group had given up.
Audrey's attention was brought back to the speaker on stage, still discussing the importance of healthcare for the underprivileged. She thought she had never known anyone without insurance before, but today afternoon she had painfully realized that Jack had once been one of those people – and currently he was among them again. The thought made her chest tighten. When she first met him, he had seemed so composed, so ordinary. She never would have guessed how hard his early years had been, how much he had sacrificed to build a life for himself and his family.
She looked down at her own hands, resting on the elegant tablecloth, at the diamond bracelet she was wearing, and nevertheless her thoughts always circled back to Jack's story. His resilience. His dedication. She had always admired him, but now, as she sat among people whose lives at been so much easier, she realized how much deeper that admiration ran.
"Care for another glass of wine?" Paul's voice broke into Audrey's thoughts, the question pulling her out of the memories she had been lost in. His undeniably British accent. It had once seemed irresistibly charming, but now it only reminded her of the elitist world he was a part of. It didn't even matter to him that he lived on two different continents, flying back and forth between London and Washington whenever it was convenient.
"No, thank you," she replied politely, giving him a quick smile, the one she knew was expected. They were still playing the role of the 'happy couple,' as Jack would call it. She remembered Jack's advice from their earlier conversation:don't get drunk—it'll make everything unpredictable.She wasn't about to ignore that.
Leaning back in her chair, she pretended to listen to the speaker at the podium, while her thoughts drifted far, far away. Back to a man who was 2000 miles away, having told her about a life that lay 20 years in the past.
Two and a half months after starting Ranger training, Jack returned to L.A. The strenuous time in Georgia and Florida was behind him, and he was happy to be back.
He arrived home a day earlier than planned, surprising Teri at her dorm. He was still in his battle dress uniform, the newly earned Ranger tab already sewn onto his sleeve. Teri's scream of joy echoed through the hallway when she opened the door to find him standing there, a day ahead of schedule. Jack noticed immediately how much her body had changed; her belly had grown, and she was nearly five months pregnant now. At the same time, Teri saw the changes in Jack. He was more than just fit now—he was steeled, his hair cut short, his body a product of the intense training. When he lifted her into his arms and carried her over to the bed, she realized how effortlessly he did it.
Jack hadn't shared many details of those first few hours back with Teri—he kept the most intimate parts of their lives private—but Audrey could fill in the blanks easily. The couple, reunited after two long months apart, had a lot to catch up on.
Jack had arranged to shift his ROTC program, serving in standard garrison duty, which meant the most important thing: health insurance. Not just for him, but for Teri and the baby that would soon be joining them. But it also meant a full-time duty obligation and having to finish his studies along the way. He was stationed at Fort Irwin, a remote base in the Mojave Desert about 150 miles northeast of L.A. Since they were married, Jack and Teri could move into family housing, but they planned to wait until closer to Kim's birth. For now, Jack took every CQ and weekend shift he could to get some free time during the week, determined to go back to L.A., stay with Teri and catch up on the courses he had missed while in ranger training.
By March, just a few months shy of his graduation, he took another break from studying to help Teri move from L.A. to Fort Irwin. It was the first time they had their own home, a modest place in the base's family housing. Soon after, Kim was born there.
Audrey's chest tightened as Jack spoke about holding Kim for the first time, describing how fragile she felt in his arms, how afraid he was that he might break her. The tenderness in his voice made Audrey painfully aware of her own lost hopes for motherhood, a path she once thought she'd take.
Teri had paused her own university education to care for Kim, her Bachelor of Arts in Painting left unfinished.
When Kim was just a few months old, Jack returned to taking special shifts, weekend duties, and long 24-hour shifts, freeing up time to drive back to UCLA to complete his degree. He no longer cared what subject it was in—Spanish, German, English literature—it didn't matter.
He just wanted it done. He finally graduated in early 1988 and was appointed Second Lieutenant, ready to begin the four years of active service he had committed to. It was the only way they could afford to live together in a safe environment, with health insurance and access to a hospital—a luxury they wouldn't have had otherwise. Jack had no regrets about joining the military. It were quite peaceful times back then, under the Reagan administration and Teri – still a pacifist – still dared to dream that he'd probably manage to do these four years of duty without ever seeing real combat.
Shortly after, he was transferred to Fort Devens, with Teri and Kim in tow. Jack took night shifts and weekend assignments again, juggling his military duties and having time to watch Kim, so Teri could finish her degree. Audrey was in awe of how much Jack had sacrificed for his family. She could barely imagine the lengths he had gone to, working back-to-back 24-hour shifts, just to ensure Teri could complete her degree, too. They made sacrifices for each other, driven by necessity but also by choice. Audrey realized that Jack could have easily left, paid alimony, and gone his own way, but that wasn't who he was. Every word deepened her admiration for him. His resilience, his selflessness—Audrey thought these qualities stood in stark contrast to the people surrounding her at the ball.
She glanced around the table, at the well-dressed, polished attendees who had never known a life of struggle, she guessed. None of them, she thought, had ever worked two 24-hour shifts in a row just to provide for their family's most basic needs. None of them had lived through the kind of sacrifice Jack had. As she sat there, enveloped in the wealth and privilege of her present world, Audrey realized just how different Jack was. He had been shaped by hardship and sacrifice, a world far removed from the one she now inhabited. But the remarkable thing was that Jack didn't even seem to consider it hardship or sacrifice. When he spoke of those years, his voice softened, and Audrey could sense that these were fond memories for him. He spoke about coming home after long shifts, cherishing every moment spent with Kim. Happiness in recalling every day of watching their daughter while Teri headed off to finish college.
Audrey was ripped out of her thoughts when Paul's voice broke through the hum of the evening. "The people from McLennan-Forster have already left," he said, his British accent clipped and formal. "I'm ready to head home, if you are." His tone wasn't harsh, but it was business-like, like they were merely acquaintances and not people who once shared a life. "I'll call you a cab," he added.
She nodded, almost relieved to be leaving but also feeling a strange tension in the pit of her stomach. "Okay. Thanks."
As they walked downstairs together, the silence between them stretched awkwardly. Paul's offer to wait with her for the cab still stood, and she hesitated before agreeing. She didn't want to be alone outside in the cold, yet being in his company felt no less uncomfortable.
While they stood in the lobby, the echoes of the night's speeches drifted through her mind. The charity event, designed to help underprivileged people—mostly without health insurance. It gnawed at her, the way these people around her tonight had smiled and applauded with no real understanding of what those people faced. The contrast between Jack's stories and the evening's superficial displays of philanthropy felt like a slap.
She couldn't hold it in any longer. "Paul, have you ever thought about what our lives would've been like if we… were one of these people?" The question slipped out before she could stop it, breaking the promise she'd made to herself earlier, to adhere to Jack's advice not to bring up the past, not to talk about anything on a personal level.
Paul looked at her, his brow furrowing slightly. "What do you mean?" His confusion was genuine. "Are you having financial troubles?" His offer came swiftly, almost mechanical. "You know, if you need anything—"
"No," Audrey interrupted, shaking her head. "It's not that. I was just asking…hypothetically." She searched his face, wondering if he had ever truly considered the struggles of people who weren't born into privilege. "Have you ever imagined what it would be like if we hadn't been so…fortunate? If we were the ones this charity was meant to help?"
Paul blinked at her, clearly puzzled by the line of questioning. "I…no, I suppose not. Why would I? We've worked for what we have. Not everyone can say the same, can they?"
Audrey's chest tightened. Right. He worked for what he had. Bullshit – his father had paid for his expensive college education. Had given him the funds to develop his first company. She meant real work. A type of work she had never given much thought in her own previous life: working at an oil field, fixing machinery, working at a garage. It was still alien to her, though Jack had told her so much about it.
She could see that neither Paul, nor the people in that ballroom truly cared about the charity. This whole evening had been an excuse—a socially acceptable way for the elite to meet, to network, to pretend they were making a difference under the smokescreen of generosity.
She pressed on, determined to make him understand. "Do you remember our time at Yale? How do you think things would've been different if we hadn't had our parents' money to pay for everything?"
Paul's expression softened, a nostalgic smile touching his lips. "We wouldn't have been at Yale, then, would we?" he said with a small chuckle. "But we were lucky. We didn't need to worry about that."
Audrey shook her head. "What if we had gotten scholarships instead? What if we didn't have the luxury of never worrying?"
Paul seemed to be losing interest in the conversation, his mind drifting elsewhere. "You're thinking too much about this, Audrey," he said lightly, as if to brush it off. Then, with a warmth she hadn't expected, he started recalling their time at Yale. "Do you remember that class we shared? The one I only signed up for because I knew you'd be there?" He smiled, clearly trying to rekindle something that had long since burned out.
Audrey's chest tightened with frustration. She didn't want to rememberthosedays. Yes, there had been good times with Paul, but so much had changed. "Stop it," she said, her voice clipped.
"Why?" Paul's brow furrowed again. "Why can't we talk about it?"
"Because I don't want to," Audrey snapped. "It's in the past."
Paul paused for a moment, clearly unsettled by her response. Then, almost cautiously, he asked, "Then why did you bring it up?"
Audrey felt a cold wave of dread roll over her. She had seen this coming, but it didn't make it any easier to hear. She just shook her head, looking away. "Never mind."
He pressed on, a note of reproach creeping into his voice. And suddenly they were knee deep in the past, throwing insults at each other for why their marriage hadn't worked out. The time Audrey had turned her back on him, just wanting to be alone after her failed pregnancies, the times Paul had had an affair, a while later. They couldn't agree on which event it really was, that sent their marriage over the cliff.
Audrey's heart clenched painfully. "No, Paul, it's not about the baby," she said quietly, though the mention of it twisted the knife in her chest. "It's about the affair."
Paul sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'm sorry for that. You know I've apologized—"
But Audrey couldn't stop the flood of emotion. The argument heated quickly, Paul defending himself, saying she had emotionally quit on the marriage after the second failed pregnancy. It felt like he was blaming her, putting the fault of his affair on her grief, on her inability to carry a child to term.
By the time the cab arrived, Audrey was grateful for the escape. She climbed in without another word, the tears already threatening to spill over. As the cab pulled away from the curb, the weight of Paul's words hit her like a tidal wave. The implication that their marriage had failed because of her loss, because of her emotional distance after the miscarriage. It hurt more than she could bear. It was always the same. He'd put the blame on her.
Tears streamed down her face as she wept quietly in the back seat. The city lights blurred outside the window. She needed to talk to someone, who'd tell her it was wrong to put the blame for everything on her. Someone who'd just listen, who wouldn't ask her to relive these painful memories but who'd be there to listen if she shared them.
When she arrived at her apartment, she rushed inside. She grabbed the secure phone she used to call Jack and dialed his number. It was after 1 a.m. in Washington, which meant something after 10 p.m. in L.A. He should be awake. She really needed to hear his voice. It was the only person she could think of right now, who'd be there for her in a way she needed him to.
But the phone just rang. She counted ten rings before the call cut off. There was no voicemail on these secure lines, just silence.
Audrey stared at the phone in her hand, her fingers trembling. Should she call again? No…he either wasn't there or didn't want to talk. Bullshit, he was in rehab. Locked in a lonely room, having nothing to do.
She sank down onto her sofa, hugging her knees as another wave of sobs racked her body. Jack's words from earlier echoed in her mind.Don't talk about the past. Don't apologize.She hadn't listened. And now, here she was, heartbroken and alone, exactly where she hadn't wanted to end up.
As Audrey wept, the truth hit her hard: Jack was 2,000 miles away, and all they had were a few fleeting phone calls. She had allowed herself to get attached somehow—and it only lead to more heartache than before with Paul, when she'd just shut out every emotion, focused on work and tried to be as cold (no, she called it strong) as possible.
Holding on to the hope that someone so far away would actually care for her was just a childish fantasy she had to let go.
She looked at the phone, a part of her still aching to take it and call again, a part of her longing for it to ring. And a big part of her that told her to just switch it off and stop dreaming.
.
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