Limits of Protection Read online

  I suppose I should be worried that Clive or perhaps an unidentified threat will try to break into this house. It's on my radar and I am somewhat concerned. But I feel so much better having been the hero and having saved the day on my own. I truly did switch from being reactive like prey to being aggressive like a predator. It paid off big. I feel like I have some measure of control now. Like I can actually protect my family. I feel ready. If someone else wants to try me, let them.

  The change began with my new attitude yesterday and it will continue with my business. We plan on moving quickly to get drones in the air as soon as possible for surveillance and security. And I'm dead set on weaponizing the things. I don't care what regulatory agency I have to go through. It's going to happen.

  I'm still lost in my thoughts when I hear a knock on the door. It sounds gentle. It’s most likely Mom or Marjorie.

  "George?" It's Marjorie. She's here to check on us and to offer to help with the boys.

  "I'm here," I say quietly, trying not to wake the boys up any sooner than they're ready. "Come on in."

  Marjorie walks in the door slowly, closing it softly behind her. She still looks exhausted from everything she's been through. The stress of being outdoors at the crash site and stuck in the van for so long has taken a toll. Not to mention, the fact that she had to carry both Leo and little Will when they left the van and went looking for help means she really exerted herself. Because Leo's legs were broken, he couldn't walk on his own.

  I can't begin to express how grateful I am that my mother-in-law was there to carry my boys to safety. She’s in excellent shape. She takes care of herself and has always been big into yoga. She certainly seems youthful for her age and that vitality was a big help when it came time to carry the boys. But everyone has their limits.

  "How are you, George?" Marjorie asks as she sits down on the bed near my legs.

  "Actually," I say. "I'm pretty damn good."

  She pulls her chin back and raises her eyebrows in surprise as the corners of her mouth turn up into a smile.

  "Really, now?" she asks.

  "Really," I reply. "I'm happy that I was finally able to do something. You understand. You probably feel the same way about carrying the boys away from the crash site, right? It feels better to take action and make some progress as opposed to being completely at the mercy of fate."

  My mother-in-law smiles bigger. She does understand.

  “I think I do," she replies. "Although, I wasn't able to do nearly enough. I feel so bad about leaving my daughter in the van in that condition."

  "Oh, don’t feel guilty, Marjorie,” I say. "I know Ali wouldn't want you to. You said yourself how she insisted that you leave her to get the boys out."

  "That's true," she says. "I didn't want to leave her. I stayed for a long time when I could have left with the boys because I figured Ali wouldn't make it if left alone. But I'm definitely in favor of not beating ourselves up over what we couldn't do. We need to focus on what we could and what we can. We're all doing our best."

  "I agree,” I say. “One hundred percent.”

  We both look over at my three sleeping boys. We all love them so very much. I'm grateful that my boys have an extended family to look out for them. If nothing else, the hell we've been through this year has shown us how fiercely we will fight for each other. We will not let each other down.

  "Have you heard from Roddy or Nicky this morning?" I ask.

  “Yeah, I have," Marjorie says. "I spoke with Nicky before I came here to your room. No change in Ali’s condition, but doctors are very pleased she's holding steady."

  "That’s such good news," I say. "Really good news."

  Marjorie shakes her head up and down in agreement.

  "No disturbances at the hospital overnight?" I ask.

  "No, none that we know of."

  "That's also a relief,” I mumble to myself. I can tell my mother-in-law has something else to say. "Well, what is it?" I ask. “Something is on your mind.”

  Marjorie chuckles. "Am I that easy to read?"

  "Pretty easy," I say with a laugh. "Maybe it's because we've known each other for so long now. I'm sure the fact that I know your daughter so well doesn't hurt either. The two of you are a lot alike."

  "I suppose you're right," she says.

  "So?" I ask.

  "Okay," she answers. "It’s, well… you’re all over the news."

  “Yeah," I say without hesitation. "I figured as much. I tried to tune out the news helicopter as it hovered overhead. It pissed me off because of the bright light in my eyes and all the wind it kicked up. Those assholes made it hard to stay on that ledge. All the wind might have had something to do with Ethan tipping over the side of the roof."

  "I can understand your position," Marjorie says. "That would piss me off, too."

  "But I don't blame them," I continue. "The local news station has a duty to keep residents informed. There probably would have been questions about what the helicopter was doing and why the hospital was on lockdown. It only makes sense that the news crew would explain."

  “Oh,” Marjorie says. "You thought I meant just the local news?”

  "Yeah," I say. "Isn't that who was filming?”

  Marjorie places one hand on my leg and pats my calf a couple of times. “George," she continues. "This is one of the reasons we all love you. You’re humble to a fault."

  "What do you mean?” I ask.

  "Stay here," she says. "I'll show you."

  Marjorie stands up and walks over to turn on the television which sits high on a dresser across the room. I wonder what she's doing. Local news shouldn’t be on right now. It's past time for the morning report and it's not yet time for a midday broadcast.

  My mother-in-law picks up the remote and begins searching through the guide until she finds cable news. My stomach does a flip inside me as the realization dawns on me.

  "Oh, no,” I say. "Did I...?"

  "You did,” she answers. "Your heroism made national news. The footage the local news crew recorded from their helicopter is being shown all over the world. You're being hailed as a hero."

  To say I’m uncomfortable with media attention is an understatement. I like my privacy. I don't need random people heaping praise on me or, for that matter, knowing who I am in the first place.

  "Wow,” I reply.

  Marjorie looks at me and smiles. "You deserve some positive attention," she says. "What you did was nothing short of heroic. I know I'm proud of you."

  I smile back at my mother-in-law. The word hero sounds good when she says it. I’m reminded of hearing Dad and John Wendell’s voices say they’re proud of me. Marjorie is the most spiritual and intuitive member of our family, so I can talk to her about this sort of topic anytime.

  "You know," I begin. "I just heard Dad’s voice and then John Wendell’s. They each said they were proud of me, too. I heard them, clear as day, while I was waking up. Do you think it was really them?"

  "It's hard to say for sure about that type of thing," Marjorie replies. "But, personally, I think it probably was them. For some reason, it seems easiest for our loved ones who have passed on to communicate with us through dreams. Maybe because our conscious minds aren't working to block out the input and dismiss it like they typically are when we’re awake. Or maybe there's another mechanism we don't yet understand. Either way, I tend to believe it's real communication most of the time.”

  "I hope so," I say. "I sure do miss them."

  "I know you do, George," Marjorie says kindly. "I think I speak for everyone who has ever loved you when I say we’re incredibly proud of you right now. You have a whole group of us cheering you on."

  “Thank you,” I say. "It's funny you mention a group, because last night when I was standing in that waiting room before I stepped out onto that ledge to go after Ethan, I could feel Dad and John Wendell as if they were standing right beside me. Then others seemed to join in, too. I could feel Grandma. And Grandad and Grandmother Marks. I even
felt an old friend from my time as a drone pilot in the Air Force who passed away tragically in Las Vegas. It seemed like there was a whole group of them cheering me on and supporting me as I faced my fears.”

  “That’s beautiful,” Marjorie says. "You should cherish that experience and tell the story to your children and grandchildren. Not everyone receives a gift like that from their deceased loved ones and ancestors."

  "It was pretty special,” I say. “I'm not going to lie. I was terrified before stepping out on that ledge. I needed all the support I could get.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Marjorie says. “I think anyone would have been scared to step out on the ledge like you did. Especially with the helicopter hovering overhead, light blaring in your eyes, and winds whipping up wind all around the building. You did a tremendous job in an intense situation.”

  “At the time,“ I begin. “I had to give myself a quick pep talk before I stepped outside. I knew I was going to do it, but it took me a minute to gather the nerve. It made me think about heroes and how many of them say they were scared. It seems like, in general, we tend to think of heroes as fearless. But I now know for certain that’s not the case. I was scared as hell.“

  We both turn our attention back to the TV as a cable news anchor wearing a dark suit and tie summarizes what happened to me and Ethan. He sounds impressed as he describes my pursuit on the way to rescuing my boy.

  “How long have they been talking about us?“ I asked.

  “I don’t know, “Marjorie says. “Maybe we should check with some of our friends on the East Coast who woke up earlier. I started watching this at seven local time. They’ve been replaying it ever since.“

  The noise from the television is waking the boys. It’s time for them to get up anyway. I take a moment and consider whether or not to let them see me on TV news, but decide that I might as well. They’re going to know about it. I don’t think keeping it from them would do any good. Little Will rises quickly, sitting straight up in the bed and smiling as big as ever.

  “Do you want me to turn it off?” Marjorie asks.

  “No, don’t bother,” I say. “I’ll talk to the boys about it.”

  Marjorie nods her head in agreement. “Do you think it will be hard for Ethan to watch?” she asks quietly.

  “I don’t know,“ I say. “I don’t think he’ll be able to escape it. Seems better that he sees the footage with us, right?“

  “It will certainly help for him to be with family members who can explain things to him when he sees it,” Marjorie answers. “I’m just concerned about the replay being too overwhelming for him. He needs time to process what happened. He probably needs professional help to process it.“

  “I hear you,“ I say. “I was thinking of asking Joe if he’d be willing to talk with Ethan. I know that counseling kids who have been through trauma is within his area of expertise. I’m not sure whether or not he’ll do it though. He refused to hypnotize me last night when I wanted to try and learn more about Clive to figure out his motivations and to find Liam. In fact, Joe got pretty angry when I asked.“

  “Maybe he needs some time to process as well,” Marjorie says. “He has professional ethics to consider. And it’s a lot to take in.“

  Little Will crawls on top of my chest and looks hard into my eyes. He wants to eat breakfast and to play. Babies are amazingly resilient. As long as the basics are taken care of and they’re connected to a loving caregiver, they can get through just about anything. It’s a survival mechanism.

  “Do you want me to feed the baby his breakfast?“ Marjorie asks.

  I look at her reluctantly, debating whether or not I should lean on her. I don’t want to overwhelm my mother-in-law. We’ve all had a terrible time. I’m feeling energized at the moment and could probably manage on my own, but it will be a big job to take care of three little boys by myself. Especially considering that one has casts on his legs and another is, no doubt, deeply traumatized from the events of last night. I decide to let Marjorie help. I’m grateful for the assistance.

  “I had better say yes to that offer. Thank you, Marjorie. I don’t know what we’d do without you.” I kiss little Will on the cheek and hand him up to his grandma. “Go to Mama Marjorie, little buddy,” I say. “She’ll get you breakfast.”

  “I’ve got him,” Marjorie assures as she takes Will into her arms. Will smiles and babbles in response. He’s probably saying good morning to his Mama Marjorie.

  “Marjorie?“ I ask. “Do you think we’re safe here today?“ It’s strange to hear the words come out of my mouth. I sound like a child looking for reassurance when I should be the one reassuring my children.

  “I think so,“ she says.” There are a lot of us adults here. Liam is out at the grocery store, but he’ll be back soon. I’m here. Plus, Linette and Joe, Taye, and Duke are here. The security system is armed. And besides, there’s so much media camped at the edge of the property that I doubt anyone who wants to do us harm could get through without being captured on camera.”

  “You’re right,” I say. “I should have known the damn media circus was still here. I guess it was foolish of me, but I let myself think they were leaving us alone. Didn’t they get enough footage from the helicopter last night?“

  “I’m afraid that was just the beginning,” Marjorie says. “They’re out there waiting for you. And they’re desperate for a scoop.“ She bounces Will on her hip as she talks. He’s easily entertained and giggles while being bounced. Ethan and Leo are both waking up now.

  “I don’t know what kind of scoop they think they’re going to get from me,“ I say. “I don’t have any comment. What happened on the roof was pretty clear. You’d think they would be glad to have that footage and would leave the rest alone.“

  “You know how they do it,” Marjorie says. “They want to talk about every angle of what happened. They’re probably trying frantically to get in touch with people who you’ve known to request interviews. The public wants to hear every single thing about you they can. It’s the way it works.“

  I turn and smile at Leo and Ethan as they stretch and work to focus their tired little lies. They both look exhausted.

  “Hello, my boys,“ I say. “How are you this morning?“

  I’m not sure what I should say to Ethan. I don’t want to traumatize him any further, so I start by pretending nothing is wrong. I don’t mean to ignore what has happened, but I want to get a read on how he’s feeling first. I don’t want to add any more tension to an already precarious situation.

  “Good morning, Daddy,“ Leo says with a grin. He looks down at his little legs as if he suddenly remembers the casts, then pulls the knit blanket and the sheet down to take a closer look. “My legs got broken,” Leo says matter-of-factly.

  “I know they did, buddy,” I say. “And you did a really good job during your surgery. Dr. Adams fixed your legs with an operation. Remember?“

  Leo shakes his head up-and-down, looking proud. “How will I walk?“ he asks.

  “We will carry you,“ I reply. “Like we did when you were a baby.”

  “Forever?” he asks.”I be a baby forever?” The poor little guy sounds like he would accept the situation if I told him he had to be carried forever. Kids really are resilient.

  “Oh, no,” I say. “Just for a while. Your legs need time to heal.“ I don’t bother to specify how many weeks or months, because I know that won’t mean much to a two-year-old. “But once they are all healed up, you’ll be able to walk again. Just like before the accident.”

  Leo smiles and appears okay with this. Ethan is wide-awake now, but he seems distant. I reach a hand over and pat him on the back.

  “How is our big boy doing this morning?“ I ask.

  He turns and looks at me and then looks over at Marjorie. “Did Mommy die?“ he asks. Our poor, sweet boy. His question guts me.

  “No, son,” I say. “Mommy is still alive. She’s at the hospital. Papa Roddy and Uncle Nicky are there with her. They stayed a
ll night.“

  “Is she awake?” Ethan asks.

  I sit up in the bed and scoot towards the middle to make space so both Leo and Ethan can sit close beside me. I can see the lake out of the bedroom windows from this vantage point. It’s sparkling, beautiful as ever, in the morning sun.

  “Come around the side,“ I say to Ethan as I motion towards the other side of the bed. “I want to hold you.“

  Ethan looks at me reluctantly. “Why do I have to, Daddy?“ he asks. He’s usually pretty agreeable.

  “I want to be closer to you,“ I say. “Come on over.“

  “Are you going to tell me something bad?“ he asks as he climbs down and walks around to the other side of the bed as I requested.

  “I'll always tell you the truth,” I say. “Some bad things have happened to our family. But we’re strong together and we’re going to get through it all, just like we have so far.“

  “Okay,“ he says softly. He leans on me and scrunches up his little face. “Did something bad happen while I was sleeping?“

  My heart hurts for my little guy. Ethan‘s questions are perfectly legitimate. Hell, I’ve felt the same way each time I’ve woken up lately. There’s been so much bad news to process. Marjorie sighs and looks at us sympathetically as she sways gently to soothe Will.

  “Nothing bad happened while you were sleeping,“ I reassure.

  Ethan seems satisfied with that answer. He burrows his little head into my chest, covering his eyes. “Daddy?“ he asks as he looks up at me.

  “Yes, son,“ I answer. “You can ask me anything.”

  “What you mean is nothing bad happened that you know about?” he clarifies.

  “I guess you’re right,” I concede. “Nothing that I know about.”

  “Will you always be here to keep me safe?“

  I look at Marjorie. It hurts us both to hear Ethan so scared and unsure. I’m reminded of the morning we flew out here to Lake Tahoe when Ethan woke up after having had a bad dream. I told him then that I would keep him safe. But I didn’t. I was ultimately successful in protecting him after the save on the roof at the hospital last night, but I didn’t keep him safe from the crash. I didn’t keep his mom safe. If I had listened to my uneasy feeling before the guys and I went out on the boat the other day, maybe I could have prevented what happened to my family. Maybe Clive wouldn’t have been able to get to them if I had kept them closer to me.