The Target

Chapter 32

Robie went into the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. He carried two cups back into the other room and handed one to Reel. The rain continued to pour down outside as he sat across from her and took a sip, letting the warmth of the beverage battle the chill in his bones.

“Your father?”

Reel nodded.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Okay.” He started to get up, but she said, “Wait. Just wait.”

Robie settled back in his chair as Reel took a drink and then clasped her hands around the cup. Robie could see that her hands were shaking slightly, something he had never witnessed in her before.

She didn’t say anything, so Robie said, “In the interest of full disclosure, DiCarlo told me some about your past. I know why you were in WITSEC. I know some things about your old man. And what he did.”

Without looking at him she said, “And my mother?”

Robie replied, “Yes.” He added, “I’m sorry, Jessica.”

She shrugged and sat back, almost burrowing into the cushion of the chair. She drank her coffee and they both listened to the rain.

“He wants to see me.”

“Your father?”

She nodded. “He’s dying, in prison, of course. He was supposed to be executed but he has terminal cancer.”

“And they can’t execute a dying inmate,” said Robie. “A bit ironic.”

“He wants to see me,” she said again.

“It doesn’t matter what he wants,” replied Robie. “The choice is yours, not his.” He leaned forward and tapped her knee. “I know that you understand that.”

She nodded again. “I understand that. The choice is mine.”

He cocked his head and studied her. “And it should be an easy choice.” He paused and added, “But it’s not?”

She let out a long breath that she seemed to have been holding in, because she gave a little gasp of discomfort. “Easy choices are among the most difficult of all,” she said in a husky voice.

“I take it you never got to face him back then?”

She shook her head, drank more coffee down, and retreated into a shell seemingly as thick as the armored hide of an Abrams tank.

“And you want that shot now, before it’s too late? Hence the easy becomes difficult.”

“It’s irrational.”

“Half the things people feel are irrational. It doesn’t make it easier to deal with. It actually makes it harder, because logic doesn’t come into it. That’s one of the downsides of being ‘merely’ human.”

Reel rubbed at one of her eyes. “He was an evil man. No conscience, Robie. His greatest thrill in life was to…was to hurt other people.”

“And he hurt you?”

“Yes.”

“And he killed your mother.”

A tear formed at the corner of Reel’s right eye. She flicked it away fiercely, even angrily, her hand moving like she was blocking a punishing blow about to be delivered against her.

She looked up at him, dry-eyed now. “He was the principal reason I do what I do.” She paused, seemed to consider her own statement, and added, “He’s the only reason I do what I do.”

“Normal people don’t grow up to do the sorts of jobs we do, Jessica,” said Robie.

They listened to the rain a bit more before Robie said, “So what are you going to do? Just let it go?”

“Is that what you think I should do?” she said quickly, seizing on his words.

“The only thing I’m sure of is that you’re the only one who can answer that question.”

“And if it were you, what would you do?” she asked pointedly.

“But I’m not you,” he said evenly.

“You’re not helping much.”

“I’m listening. I can’t make up your mind for you. Not that you’d let anyone do that anyway.”

“With this I might.”

He drank his coffee and said nothing in response. He watched her as she closed her eyes and took several long breaths. When she opened them she said, “Why do you think he wants to see me?”

Robie sat back and put his cup on the coffee table that sat between them. “He’s dying. Redemption? Say goodbye? Tell you to go to hell? All of the above?” He leaned forward. “I think the more important question is, what would you say to him?”

She looked at him and Robie suddenly saw a fragility that he had never thought could possibly dwell inside her.

She said, “There is no forgiveness. I don’t care if he is a dead man.”

“I can see that. But it doesn’t answer the question.”

“And if I don’t have an answer?”

“Then you don’t have an answer.”

“Then I shouldn’t go?”

He said nothing to this, just continued to watch her.

She said, “I feel like I’m back in the shrink session.”

“I don’t have the qualifications. But whatever you decide to do, you’ll have regrets either way, you know that, right?”

“No, I don’t know that,” she said sharply. In a softer voice she said, “Why do you say that?”

“Maybe you’re not the only one who’s tried to come to grips with their past.”

Her lips parted slightly. “You?”

“Again, I don’t matter in this discussion. Just know that one answer over the other does not equal a solution. It’s only a decision. And decisions have ramifications either way.”

“You actually sound very qualified to be a shrink.”

Robie shrugged. “You want more coffee?”

She shook her head but he rose and got another cup for himself. When he settled back down across from her she said, “So does it come down to a decision of lesser regrets, then?”

“It might very well. But that’s only one set of factors.”

“What’s the most important one? In your opinion?” she quickly added.

“Like I said before. If you have something you want to say to him, then okay. If you have nothing in your heart that you want this man to hear before he croaks, then…”

“But not forgiveness,” said Reel. “I can never forgive him.”

“No, not forgiveness. And you don’t have to make a decision now.”

“They told me he could die anytime.”

Robie took a swallow of coffee. “Not really your problem, Jessica.”

“Can I ask you something, Robie?”

“Yes.”

“If I decide to see him.” She stopped. It seemed she was searching for either the words or possibly the courage to go on.

“Just say it, Jessica.”

“If I decide to go, will you go with me?” She added in a rush, “Look, I know it’s stupid. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself and—”

He reached over and gripped her hand. “Yes, I’ll go with you.”