The Protector (25 page)

She again sat in silence, I was sure she was contemplating what to ask next.  I wanted desperately to tell her everything she wanted to know, but I knew that wasn’t the smartest thing to do.

She took another deep breath before she asked her next question.
“Are you married?” I cringed at the question as memories of Paige danced through my head. I could hear her voice in my head. It was so calm and sweet and it made me miss her. I missed her level head, her smile and the way she tried to accept me for who I was.  Our marriage had not been the greatest, tumultuous at best. But I had cared for her deeply.  By the end of it, she was more of my friend than anything else. I sat there and thought about it and replayed images of my marriage to Paige in my head. I had not realized that quite a bit of time had passed since she had asked her question until she spoke again.  “Does she know where you are?”

Her words were almost a whisper, barely audible.

“What?”

“Does she know where you are?” She asked me again, this time her voice a little stronger.
             
This time I did not wait to answer her question. “She died a little over a year ago of breast cancer. “

“I’m sorry,” again her voice was barely audible. She was embarrassed I could tell but I didn’t want her to be. She didn’t know so I couldn’t blame her for asking the question or for drudging up memories I had parked so far into the back of my mind it was sad.

I really wanted the conversation to be over, but it wasn’t her fault, she didn’t know.  I had to remember she didn’t have a file to refer to when she wanted to know about me.  I at least wanted her to change the subject. “Any other questions, not relating to my marital status?”

She removed her hand much to my dismay and shrugged. “I guess,” She sighed, “What do you want to tell me.”

I shook my head in annoyance.  “No,” I stated matter of factly, “I don’t easily give information. Ask me a question and I may or may not answer it. But I am not going to sit here and tell you my life story.”  My tone was rude and I instantly felt bad once the words came out. 

Sonny snorted in frustration.  “It’s ok for me to ask you questions and you may choose to answer them or you may not. But, God forbid I ask you to volunteer information. You bite my head off. I don’t understand you Jack.”  She shifted once again in her seat, pulling her leg out from under her bottom and putting both feet in front of her. She crossed her arms almost looking annoyed with me.

“Can you be still for more than five minutes Alison,” I blurted out angrily.  She didn’t know how detrimental it would be for me to tell her more than she needed to know.  She would suddenly become even more of a target if she did.  Paige knew very little about me, and she had accepted that. But with Alison things were different.

Her head turned immediately to face me and the look on her face was devastating.  There was ice in her emerald eyes.  There was anger, frustration, and more anger.  I continued to watch the road in front of me as I refused to glance in her direction, knowing full well I would most likely incur her angry wrath. As we traveled on, I could feel her icy glare on me. I didn’t quite know what else to say so I said nothing. 

15
Silence is Torture

Seconds turned into minutes and minutes into hours as we continued down the highway toward Las Vegas.  I stopped at a truck stop in Kingman, Arizona to get some coffee and I had a feeling she needed to use the restroom.  It was only a feeling, because she never indicated it in the car.  Matter of fact the silence had been so deafening at one point, I had to turn on music.  Luckily I had a few choice cd’s to listen to. 

She continued to fidget as we drove.  She wasn’t going to stop. I could tell she wasn’t doing it on purpose, it was nervousness and the fact she was stuck in the car with me. And it was not her fidgeting that made me angry as much as it was the fact, she did it when she was nervous or scared.  What angered me the most was the fact I couldn’t make those feelings go away. I couldn’t make her calm or not worry about things.

She followed me into the truck stop with her head down and as soon as she noticed the sign for the ladies room, she walked away from me. I stood a few feet away from its entrance, ensuring no one who looked suspicious followed her in. Although I was pretty sure they had not picked up on our location, I had to be cautious, none the less. And it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to make sure she wasn’t going to run away from me. Her glare was still icy cold.

I stood there and watched people go in and out of the restrooms.  Someone from every walk of life had walked into this truck stop. There were of course your truckers, but there were tourists on their way to try and win big. There were families traveling with kids and there was a parking lot full of RV’s carting around retired couples looking for peace and relaxation.  It seemed like an eternity before she finally walked out. I almost missed her as she had put her hair back into the twist at the top of her head. The hair was tighter and I was not likely to see bits of it falling into her face giving me the opportunity to touch her. That was probably a good thing as I figured she would slap me if I had tried to touch her now. The icy glare was still present as she walked out of the bathroom.  I walked over to the coffee area and poured myself a cup. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed her holding a bottle of water. I also noticed her looking at magazines and books.  It was then I realized that she had to be bored. Our conversation had come to a screeching halt and she was fidgeting relentlessly in her seat. It was not merely distracting but frustrating.

I took a deep breath and walked over to where she stood. “Pick a few things out. We have a long drive and as long as you are mad at me, you might as well have something to read.”  I looked at her sincerely. I really didn’t want her to be bored.

“It wouldn’t be so quiet if you answered a few of my questions for once,” she retorted grabbing a book and a few magazines. She breezed past me in pure anger. I couldn’t help it but the corners of my mouth turned up in a smile and a soft chuckle rolled off my chest. I followed past her to the counter, still with a grin.  When I reached her at the counter, she wouldn’t look at me as I paid for them. She only mumbled a thank you and grabbed her few things before she headed toward the exit.

The scruffy looking old man who stood in line behind me laughed, “Bad karma when the wife is mad at you on a long trip.” 

I smirked and walked away.  She may not have been my wife, but it was bad karma to have an angry woman in the car with me.

She was careful though not to go more than a few steps ahead of me. And as she walked out the door, she scanned the parking Lot. I am sure she didn’t know what she was looking for, but the fact she even scanned, had me impressed and proud.

Things didn’t change when we reached the BMW.  I filled up the tank, got in and let the silence envelope me once again. I realized that she was going to remain silent until I took the steps to break it. I wasn’t ready to do that yet. I was still unsure how much I should tell her. I wasn’t sure where the line was drawn. As much as I wanted her to know things, I couldn’t let myself get close to her. At least that is what I needed to keep reminding myself of.

A

I knew I was acting like a three year old holding her breath until she turned purple and passed out. But I didn’t care. I was mad as hell for his lack of forthcoming answers. I didn’t want to know everything about him. I just felt so stupid not knowing anything about him and trusting him as I did. And it wasn’t fair he knew everything about me, even down to my clothes size.

             
I knew it was childish of me to act in such a way.  I wasn’t normally one to throw fits or temper tantrums.  I had always been pretty even keeled and often times people told me it was because I was the middle child.  I had also been told numerous times I was stubborn. And this was a fact I relished as I sat in the car and watched him out of the corner of my eye drive down the long desert highway.  I could and I would remain silent as long as I needed to.

I reached for the book I had put on the floor of the car. I couldn’t even remember what I had picked. But I hoped desperately it was interesting as it was going to be a long car ride. I tried to read the first page, and I think I read it four or five times, but absorbed nothing.  I shifted once again in my seat and as I did I caught a glance of his face. I expected annoyance as once again I was moving around in the seat. Apparently my fidgety nature bothered the hell out of him. I almost thought about purposely moving around in my seat more but I figured that would be pushing it. But as I glanced over to see the look on his face, instead I saw a man in deep thought. He was so enveloped in them he looked like they were physically hurting him.  Finally his expression softened a little. And he opened his mouth to speak. But he closed it quickly as if to carefully choose his words. 

“I was born in DC, and moved to Ireland when I was four.  My father was an Irish Diplomat, my mother an American.  We lived there until he was assassinated by some member of the IRA in Belfast. Mom and I moved back to the states when I was 17.  It was too hard for her to live in Ireland without him.  I went to Gonzaga and have a degree in International Relations. I thought I would follow in the old man’s
footsteps
, diplomacy. Instead I joined the Marines, served in the first Gulf War, came home and well went to work for a government agency. I was married for a short time and as you know she died. So there you have it, my life in a nutshell.” 

I sat there shocked at his revelation.  Although his revelation took no more than a minute, it took me another five before I could say anything in response. “Thank you.” 

I was suddenly grateful for him opening up just a little.  His little bit of information made me feel important to him.  It made me feel like I mattered enough for him to share something with me. I wasn’t entirely sure why that was so important to me, but it was.   The silence continued, but instead of reading I sat and watched him.

Finally he spoke again. “Well I opened up you can talk to me again.” His tone was joking, but serious all in the same manner. He looked at me and raised his eyebrow. “Well?” His face was smug.

“Well what?” I smiled back. His golden eyes were piercing and I could not look away. “I said thank you.”

“Is that all you are going to say then? No twenty questions. You are satisfied with what I have just told you?” The smugness disappeared as he realized I didn’t have anything to say.

The smile never left my face and I still couldn’t tear my eyes from him. “I told you I just wanted something.  This may sound ridiculous, but you,” I stopped, took a deep breath and continued, “You know everything about me. You knew everything the day you walked into my life.  I know nothing of you and I am trusting my life to you.”  I could no longer continue to look at him as I knew my face was turning red. “And for some reason you telling me something about yourself makes me believe I matter to you and I am not just someone you are protecting. For some reason it makes you more human to me.”  I turned my head to look out the passenger’s side window.  We were heading toward Hoover Dam and traffic had congested just a little. We were definitely going slower than we had been.  I was afraid to look at him. I was afraid he would see I had developed a crush on him, as crazy as it sounded.  “I needed something Jack. You gave me that something.”
             

He glanced at me puzzled. “So you now understand me with just that little bit?”

I nodded my head. “I understand a little and that is enough for me now.  However, you might have to give me little bits and pieces the longer we are together. That is just a requirement of friendship.” I smiled once again, this time I let my eyes drift back to him.  I could see a smile on his face.

“Friends huh?”

“I would hope,” I shrugged my shoulders.

“You don’t want to know any more?”  This time he looked at me in dismay. “I am having a hard time believing you?”

“I figure you will tell me things when you are ready. Until then I am satisfied with what you have told me. At least I know you weren’t found under a rock and you totally explained that Irish accent you had with Stacy.”

“All that silence?” He asked this time the dismay turned to amazement.

             
“A temper tantrum.” I stated simply, again looking away. I was slightly embarrassed by my behavior, but it did get me something. I figured pushing it any further wasn’t a good thing.

Jack laughed. He took his left hand off of the steering wheel and removed his hat. He laid it on the rest between us and ran his fingers through his brown hair.  “A temper tantrum?” he shook his head in dismay.

“There is one thing I do want to know if I could ask.”

The smile suddenly disappeared from his face and his body went rigid as if he would have to tell me more than he was ready to. “What?”

“How many languages can you speak?”

“Seven – English, French, Russian, Gaelic, Spanish, Hebrew and Arabic.”  His smile did not return and his face was serious now.