ROAR (49 page)

“Should be a lovely day for the drive if the marine layer doesn’t roll in to shore.” Mom pulled plates and bowls from the cupboard and carried them out to the patio table. When she came in again, she seemed to notice the silence between them. “Is something else the matter?”

Her mother wasn’t usually tuned in to Pamela’s moods. She’d given her the perfect opening—twice—but asking the question was harder than expected. The closing of the front door told her Kristoffer must be off on his walk. She wished she’d asked to go with him, but last night, he sounded as though he wanted some time alone. Sharing a room—and a bed—offered no privacy for someone used to fending for himself. She hoped he wasn’t tired of traveling with her, but he seemed excited about Big Sur.

As her mother counted out silverware, Pamela inhaled deeply before the words tumbled out in a rush, “Mom, why did you leave Dad and me?”

Mom’s hands stilled then began to shake slightly. She didn’t meet Pamela’s gaze right away, but when she did, there were tears in her eyes.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you, Pamela. That wasn’t my intention, but I had to protect you both.”

“From what?” Or would
from whom
be the better question? Neither made any sense. How could Mom protect her daughter and husband when she was thousands of miles away? Not that she knew where her mom went during those years.

“Let’s sit outside.” She turned away and walked through the door; Pamela followed. Mom continued setting the table as the silence drew out between them. Was she trying to formulate an excuse or to find the perfect words to defend the unexplainable?

“Sit down, Sunshine.” She was using her nickname again, so she must have regained her equilibrium.

Taking the seat next to her mom, she sat and waited. Mom wrung her hands in her lap a few times before meeting her gaze again. A tear ran off her jaw and splashed onto her arm. “I want you to know that I only left because I loved you. I’m…I was involved in something I still can’t talk about, but my decisions put you and Bryce in danger. To protect you both, I had to disappear.”

“What kind of something? Mom, that’s no answer at all.” Her cryptic response left Pamela with a million more questions.

“I know. You’ll just have to trust me. If I could explain further, I would. Maybe someday—”

Were her childhood fantasies of Mom as a spy more real than she thought? No, that’s preposterous. Who had a mom who was a spy? The Cold War ended long ago. Actually, the Berlin Wall fell in 1989, about the same year Mom left.

“Were you spying on East Germany?” Or worse yet,
for
them—or the KGB in Russia?

Mom’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Of course not! How would I have contact with anyone in Eastern Europe? We didn’t even have a World Wide Web yet.”

Then who? What? None of this made any sense!

Mom had lived in Japan when Pamela was born until a few years after. Did Americans spy for or against Japan? But Mom hadn’t even earned her high-school diploma until nearly the time they returned to the States. Weren’t spies more highly educated?

Anger boiled up inside her. Not only at her mother but also at herself now for opening up this wound in the first place. “Mom, what the hell did you do?”

She dashed a tear from her cheek. “I destroyed my family. If I had it to do over again, I don’t know if I’d make the same…” She let her words trail off.

“I love you, Mom, no matter what, but I’ve spent more than two decades wondering what I did that made you want to leave us.”

Mom reached out and squeezed Pamela’s arm. “Oh, God, Sunshine! You must believe me when I say it had nothing to do with you!”

“You deserted me! That had a
lot
to do with me!”

Tears streamed down her mom’s cheeks unheeded now, and Pamela felt guilty for causing them, but then remembered admonishing Kristoffer for that wasted emotion. “Mom, my whole childhood felt like a lie. I don’t want to continue believing that the rest of my life. How can whatever happened back then still be affecting your life now?”

Neither woman spoke for a while, and her mom picked up a paper napkin to dab at her eyes. She said in a voice so low Pamela had to lean closer to hear, “I thought I was doing the right thing. I know you want answers—
deserve
answers—but I won’t risk putting you in danger again.”

Again? How could what happened then still be a threat? This was surreal.

Mom closed her eyes. “Please accept my apology, Pamela. I was young and saw no other option. But at least neither of you was punished because of what I chose to do. I intend to keep it that way.”

“Mom, with Dad’s help, I forgave you years ago.”

“Thank you. If I’d known you thought that…” Mom dabbed at her eyes again and blew her nose in the napkin before picking up another.

“For a long time, I explained away your absence picturing you working as a kick-ass, international spy.” She laughed with a shrug. “I had an overactive imagination. Or maybe spent too many nights watching spy shows on TV.”

Mom smiled. Seeing she wasn’t going to obtain any additional answers this morning, she needed to end this on a high note. “Dad eventually convinced me that whatever drove you away wasn’t my fault, but you’ve cleared up any lingering doubt.”

“Sunshine, you were the best daughter a mother could have. I was so proud of you. Even after I left, I tried to keep up with your accomplishments and activities.”

Now Pamela found herself in tears. “I hadn’t noticed the photos in the living room before last night.”

“I only put them out last Christmas. I guess I was thinking back over all the things I’d missed and needed reminders that I had been there for some of those milestones at least.”

Pamela stood up and closed the gap between them. Wrapping her arms around her mom, she hugged her tight. “I hate that we lost those years and hate even more that you continue to live in fear like this, Mom. Have you thought about going to the police?”

Mom held on to Pamela as though she were a lifeline. This was why guilt was such a useless emotion. They had both harbored a lot of guilt all these years—and for what?

“Are you going to be okay, Mom? I probably shouldn’t have stirred all this up just before I’m about to leave.”

Mom nodded, took a step back, and searched Pamela’s gaze. “How about you?”

“Yeah, I am. But I have Kristoffer to talk with if I’m not.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised at what good listeners my dogs are.” They both laughed.

“Call me if you want to talk more.”

“Will do. I’d like us to keep in touch better, even if by phone or Skype.”

“I’d like that, too, Mom. I may never understand what happened back then, but it helps to know it had nothing to do with me.”

“It pains me that you thought that all this time. I’m so sorry, Sunshine. If I had it all to do over, I might have made different choices. But I definitely would have assured you more that you weren’t to blame for anything I did or didn’t do.”

“Thanks, Mom. Just cut yourself some slack. What’s done is done. You have a lot of living yet to do, and I hope you can let go of the past.”

“I’ll try. Want me to help with breakfast?”

Pamela grinned. “That would be interesting.” The two laughed out loud, agreeing that was a preposterous notion. But the tension washed away.

Before Pamela turned to go into the kitchen again, Mom asked, “Pamela, I wondered if you would share with me Heidi’s contact info for the school in Afghanistan.”

“Sure, Mom. Why?”

She glanced away. “I’d like to see if she’d be interested in connecting her girls with mine via videoconference or something.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea! I know Heidi would love it. Let me grab a pen and paper, and I’ll jot down her online contact info.”

*     *     *

Kristoffer startled awake upon hearing voices outside. The ocean waves must have lulled him to sleep. Daylight streamed inside the door, but Pamela was up already. Then he recognized her voice drifting inside. She was talking with her mom.

A quick glance at his watch told him it was only seven. Pamela must have risen early. She’d mentioned that her mother was a morning person, so they were probably deep in discussion now. He didn’t want to intrude, knowing Pamela wanted to talk over some private matters with Maribeth before they left.

He’d slept better than he had in a long time. Perhaps the sea air agreed with him.

No, be real, man
.

Having Pamela share the bed with him had given him this sense of peace and security he’d been missing since he’d lost Tori. He appreciated that Pamela liked to snuggle, too, which no doubt had led to his feelings of contentment this morning. He’d always wanted more of that, but it wasn’t Tori’s thing.

As he headed down the stairs, he realized for the first time in a long while there was a woman who cared about him and whether he existed. Not just any woman, but one he found fascinating and enjoyed spending time with.

He didn’t want to lose her due to indecisiveness or an inability to commit to her in a significant way. The other day in Sonoma, in what one might call a cleansing ceremony given the shower, he’d said goodbye to Tori’s spirit and unilaterally revised his vows to her to fit the dilemma modern medicine had left him with that shattered their original ones. But how do you negotiate with someone who doesn’t have any awareness? Someone whose mind died but left her body behind?

Same old questions. No new answers.

After dressing in shorts and a polo shirt, he headed down the narrow stairway to the dining room. The door to the patio was open and he could hear the women talking. To signal his leaving, he shut the front door behind him with more force than necessary. Perhaps knowing he wasn’t about to interrupt them, they could talk more freely.

Before going outside, he’d booked them a room in one of Big Sur’s exclusive resort hotels for tonight and tomorrow. If they hadn’t packed the right clothes, he was sure there would be shops eager to sell them whatever they needed.

All that mattered was that he’d soon have Pamela all to himself again. He wanted to give this budding “whatever
it
is” relationship a chance and would need to keep his heart and his options open. He hadn’t yet exercised his full potential as her Dom. That might be the safest and best course to chart.

At the base of the stone stairs, he removed his sandals and left them against the wall and out of the way from where a group of caterers—according to the words on the pink and yellow decorations—were setting up for a birthday party. That should make the shoes and stairs easy to spot on his return walk.

He crossed the dry sand, remembering his walk with Pamela yesterday to see the elephant seals. She certainly was one to stop and capture special memories, rather than go from point A to point B.

But he had a purpose for being out here this morning, so he traversed this much shorter sandy expanse quickly, and soon the surf lapped at his feet. Damn, it was cold for nearly July.

He stood staring out at the bay awhile watching surfers in wet suits trying to catch a wave. Something farther out caught his eye as a lone sloop hoisted its sail again in the center of the bay. Kristoffer sighed wistfully. He’d spent some good times on the water with Jeremy, his high-school buddy who owned a sailboat, and learned a lot about sailing and life on the open sea. Not always in the Atlantic. Most of the time, they sailed either the Fisher’s Island Sound or the Long Island Sound.

He closed his eyes, and his body swayed as if he could feel the hull and keel beneath him tacking into an upwind. Jeremy described the wind as being at twelve o’clock. If one tried to sail into it, they stalled. But by tacking—shifting the sails a little this way and a little that on either side of the direct wind current—they could move forward again. The closer he hauled between the eleven and one o’clock positions, the faster he could go.

Kristoffer opened his eyes. He’d come out here to walk and think. A power walk might help burn off some pent-up frustrations. He wanted to give Pamela and Maribeth enough time to talk and maybe even sort out the distance between them. Time on earth was too short to develop or sustain resentments between loved ones.

Glancing south then north, he opted to head north toward the Monterey Peninsula and Pebble Beach—not that he’d walk that far, of course.

He prepared himself to sail into the unknown with Pamela, having no clue where they’d wind up or even what their destination might be. One day, Tori’s body would pass, but he wouldn’t continue to put his life on hold. She might hang on like this for years. Rick had told him about one woman at the facility who’d been in a persistent vegetative state for more than twenty years. Tori would be the first to kick him in the ass and tell him to get on with his life.

Yet divorcing her wasn’t something he was able to do either, even though he didn’t see himself so much as her husband as her legal guardian and caregiver now. Looking back, he could pinpoint where he’d first known all hope was lost. He was preparing to move into his condo and out of the house they’d shared that had become too painful to live in. He’d asked Liz to take Tori’s jewelry, clothing, and knickknacks and do with them whatever she wanted.

He wouldn’t have done that if he’d thought Tori would be coming back to him. He kept her wedding ring, which had been cut off her finger at the hospital due to swelling in her hands after the wreck, as well as the photo albums depicting their life together. But he hadn’t opened those since he’d scanned the photos while putting together a slideshow of Tori’s life for her eventual memorial service. Going over their life in photos had helped him to look back over their lives, but he’d been stuck in those memories ever since.

If Tori had died outright in the wreck or soon after, she would have expected him to mourn for a period of time, but eventually seek love again. After the accident, he’d wailed, he’d grieved, but, dammit, he hadn’t died. Why, then, had he chosen to bury himself alive? He could live another forty or fifty years, but not if stress and misery sent him to an early grave.

The foamy surf washed over his bare feet as he walked. He thought about how much he’d enjoyed his time with Pamela. But how long would she be satisfied to be a traveling companion and friend? Yes, they had the occasional Top/bottom scene, too. Funny how setting out to become her trainer and to teach Pamela how to stay grounded in the moment had actually shown him how little he’d done of that himself for years.