– Connecting the Dots
Bobby:
It started, like so many endless tasks, with a simple question. In this case it was from Shari, and all she’d asked me was “Bobby, do you ever wonder about, you know, about Barbara?”
I was miles away, trying to make a project spreadsheet come out right so I didn’t really hear the question.
“What about Barbara?” I muttered absently, my head full of Ricky’s calculations and costs, scheduled tasks, project milestones and rolled-up tasks for the latest construction and refurbishment projects we had going on. A million things to do with keeping the business rolling forward, and I was thinking only of the approaching weekend and getting stuff ordered-up before the suppliers’ order-picking people went home for the weekend.
“Bobby!” Shari prodded me out of my haze. “Answer me: do you ever wonder about Barbara, it’s quite simple… ” she grumbled.
My train of thought was completely derailed. When Shari asks a question, she expects an answer not absent-minded dithering, so I replayed the last few seconds of conversation.
“Do I ever wonder about Barbara, about my mother? Sometimes I do. I wonder how it would have been if she’d lived. I wonder how I would have turned out if I’d known she was my mother, and yeah, I wonder about her charm bracelet. That one keeps me awake at nights sometimes because I really don’t know what it means. I’m not even sure I want to.”
I rubbed my eyes, trying to frame a reply that didn’t sound maudlin and self-pitying.
“Was it her way of telling me that it’s all over, or is that all she has for me: a second-hand message because I don’t deserve anything else of her? Or is it to remind me what we made of her, how little we cared, and now all we have left is just a piece of metal, because that’s all we deserve? I don’t know, and some nights I lie in the dark unable to sleep and wonder, so was there something specific in there that you wanted me to talk about, baby, because I really don’t want to talk about any of this…”
Shari gazed unwaveringly, silently, at me so I put down the pen I’d been toying with, and pushed my keyboard away because I wasn’t going to get out of this conversation.
“I know how badly I fucked-up, and yes, I wish I had a do-over, but I’m not going to get one. Dwelling on how wrong I was doesn’t do anything except keep reminding me how wrong I was. I know how badly I messed up. I won’t ever get to tell her to her face how sorry I am, how much I wish I had her back so I can do it right this time around.”
I leaned back in my chair, trying to relax my tense muscles, something that happened every time I tried to navigate my way though this minefield.
“I try, I do. I go to her graveside, and I sit and talk to her. I tell her about us, the kids, about Nicky, and how sorry I am, but I don’t know if she’s even listening to me.”
I stopped to clear my throat and blink something out of my suddenly blurred eyes.
“She talked to Rachel, but not to me, and I ask myself if that was because Rachel is an absolute innocent in this whole thing, or was it because she has nothing for me and she’s telling me she hasn’t forgotten what I did? Remember Nicky’s letter? How he took the blame for what happened to her?”
I slumped back in my seat, soul-weary of this whole guilt treadmill, but I couldn’t stop worrying at it, like a hangnail I never quite managed to clip.
“I still read it sometimes to remind myself of what I never thought to do, and that I wasn’t there when she needed me most. The stark truth is, he’s the only one who ever loved and helped her. He tried to protect her even though it almost cost him his life, while I ignored her. I stood back and let her be harmed. Her blood is on my hands, mine, not Nicky’s. He has his absolution, he truly never needed it, but I’ll never reach mine, and I don’t know how I can ever earn it, or deserve it.”
I stared unseeingly at the faux Robert Adam ceiling plasterwork friezes and dentil mouldings, the most elegant of the period features of the house, marshalling my thoughts.
“So yes, to answer your question, I do wonder, and I wish to God I didn’t have to. It never goes away babe, it just huddles away in the back of my mind when the day is happening around me, but it always, always comes back to remind me, that little voice deep inside reminds me that I did nothing and she died.”
I shook my head dismissively, wanting rid of this but never managing to do it.
“I do wonder if she can ever forgive me, and I ask her to give me a sign. That’s all I can do, and hope she can hear me, that one day she’ll let me know, me, not like when she gave a message to Rachel to pass on, but me, directly. Maybe when I’ve finally earned her forgiveness. So far I have nothing, and I don’t know why I keep hoping. Maybe it’s arrogant of me to hope for absolution when really I should be begging for her forgiveness, but I don’t know if that will help because I don’t know if she’s even listening to me.”
Shari moved away from her desk and stepped around mine to spin my office chair around so she could sit on my lap with her arms around my neck.
“My poor Bobby, you’re so tied up inside. I can only guess how much this hurts you, but don’t give up hope. She’ll find you, she did once, and one day she will again. You and Ricky have tried so hard to make this house into a home, and you succeeded. You have built a sanctuary, a haven for her grandchildren to live and play and be safe, filled with warmth, and love and laughter. In every way you could you gave her what she wanted most, and I’m sure she knows it.”
She kissed my cheek and rubbed her forehead against mine, a gesture she used when she was being especially gentle with me.
“She’s at peace now, Bobby, we, her family, you, her children, made sure of that. That’s why she came back to give you her bracelet. It was to give you a part of her to keep always and remind you of her, not as a rebuke, I’m sure of it.”
She waved her hand, the gesture taking in the house, us, everything around us.
“Can’t you feel the peace in this house now, the stillness? Nicky once told me how the sense of anger and hate and endless misery in this house always oppressed him and beat him down; remember how reluctant he was to come back here? That’s all gone now. He says he can feel it when he’s here: the house is at peace now. She tapped my chin with her forefinger, making her point.
“That’s what you and Ricky gave her, the thing she always wanted for you, for all her children and their children: a haven of peace, a blessed place to love and be loved, to grow and be cherished, to foster memories to cherish. Never forget that.”
She nuzzled my neck for a while, something she knows I like, and so we sat together, schedules and orders and delivery deadlines forgotten, just enjoying a golden afternoon, just the two of us, made one by the misery and evil that had come out of this house. All of that grim past was now exorcised and gone forever; only the faintest echoes remained in my mind, disquieting whispers of guilt and sorrow at what I’d been party to.
“Are you happy, sweetie?” murmured Shari and I grinned, my melancholy mood passing at her touch. I had my wife, my Shari, our children, my extended family to call on if I needed them. The business was thriving, ensuring our children’s futures, all of them. We had a home to keep all our family safe and secure in a place where we had earned the right to be together. It was ours, held in trust in perpetuity for us and our children, and their children.
No bank or legal shenanigans could ever take it from us or them, and there was a good amount of money put way to provide for all our families and any future need.
We had security for our whole family. We were a family fortress, bonded together with ties forged from our unique background, bonds no others could ever understand let alone intrude upon so yes, I was very happy indeed.
Almost six years married and my Shari’s beauty was untouched by the years, she was as lovely and as young as the day I first laid eyes on her. Two beautiful children and a third on the way, and her skin was still as smooth and taut as a teenager, her lithe, slim body still sleek as a dancer and graceful as a gymnast, and she was all mine. I had much to be grateful for.
“Of course I am, Shereen Shahida Davis, my darling wife, mother of my beautiful children, and the love of my life. You make me happy, happier than I’ve ever been, my darling. You keep the dark away just by being you. The children make me happy, and our life together makes me very happy indeed. I want for nothing more. Life is good, my life with you is all I want, and all I’ll ever need.”
kissed her cheek gently.
“You make me very happy, wife of mine.”
She sat silently for so long I thought she’d dozed off, but then she kissed my neck very gently, barely a feather-touch.
“My question earlier, I kind of meant it two ways, sweetie. There’s something that I don’t think we’ve ever really thought about… ”
I reclined my seat further back, tipping her even closer to me.
“About Barbara, you mean? Sure, go ahead.”