Chapter 79: Another Subversive?

December 14, 2000, Greater Cincinnati, Ohio

“Let’s talk a bit about reducing stress in your life,” Doctor Mercer said.

“With seven teenagers? Surely you jest!”

Doctor Mercer and I both had a good laugh, and I was sure she had some stories to tell about raising her own kids, but she had always scrupulously avoided any talk of her family.

“Your kids are so well-behaved and so well-adjusted that you won’t have the kind of stress most parents go through. But seriously. I want you to consider your options. Tell me about what you do at NIKA these days.”

I spent twenty minutes describing how things worked at NIKA, including the management structure, and how I was involved more in the culture than direct management, though I did participate in management at times.

“What would happen if you dialed things back a bit at work for a time?” she asked when we finished our discussion.

“So long as it was communicated properly to the staff, it would mean hiring someone to pick up the programming slack and ensuring Penny didn’t murder me!”

Doctor Mercer laughed, “The epitome of the platonic ‘work wife’ if there ever was one!”

“Pretty much!”

“So you could withdraw somewhat without horribly disrupting things?”

“Yes, I could. But then do what? You know I’d go crazy just ‘relaxing’. I’m sure you remember I was going stir crazy when I had my second concussion.”

“Yes, I remember. Could you get more involved in your karate school?”

“I suppose so. Why?”

“Because from everything I understand it’s very low stress, it’s good discipline, and it’s good exercise. And it would be something you would enjoy doing.”

“I suppose it’s possible.”

“I’m going to say this to you, which I can only do because of who you are, but my advice is that you withdraw somewhat from work, spend more time at the karate school, and find some kind of spiritual engagement. Do that before you come see me again, which I propose should be in February.”

“I’ll talk to Stephanie as well as my dad, my father-in-law, and Joyce and come up with a plan.”

“Good. The other thing I want you to do is ask your family and friends to watch for ANY sign of depression. It can come on fast and strong, and you know there’s a serious risk of self-harm in those situations.”

“I will, and yes, I know. That’s your bigger fear with the guns than a manic episode.”

“It is. And why I want you more involved in the karate school and why I’ve suggested some kind of spiritual involvement.”

“Understood.”

“Let’s talk about the family.”

We spent the rest of the morning discussing my wives, the kids, and our extended family, finishing up just before noon. With a tentative plan in hand, I thanked Doctor Mercer and left her office. I stopped in my tracks when I saw Anna Wilson in the waiting room with a pretty redhead who was about our age.

“Steve?!” Anna exclaimed, jumping up.

“Hi, Anna! What are you doing in Milford?”

“I moved back to Ohio about two years ago. I’m working for P&G. What are you doing here?”

“Same thing I was doing here when we were dating in High School.”

She nodded knowingly, though she’d only known I’d come to Doctor Mercer for counseling of some kind, not the details.

“This is my friend, Angie,” Anna said. “Angie Stephens, Steve Adams.”

“Nice to meet you,” Angie said with a soft smile.

“Nice to meet you as well,” I replied.

“Angela, you can go in,” the receptionist said.

Angie went into Doctor Mercer’s office and closed the door behind her.

“How long are you in town?” Anna asked.

“Until tomorrow.”

“Would you like to have coffee later today to catch up?”

“I’m meeting a friend for lunch and another friend for dinner, but I could probably meet around 3:00pm.”

“Cool. Frisch’s? It’s probably easiest.”

“Sure.”

“Do you mind if Angie joins us? I can’t take her home before 5:00pm because her mom is out for the day.”

“Not at all. See you at Frisch’s at 3:00pm!”

I left Doctor Mercer’s office and headed to Loveland to meet Donna W for lunch. She was waiting at the diner when I arrived and greeted me with a hug and a soft kiss.

“How are the kids?” I asked.

“Horny as hell and fucking like bunny rabbits!” Donna laughed. “Debbie says ‘hello’.”

“Tell her the same for me.”

“The kids are probably going to get married next summer. You’ll get an invite.”

“Thanks. And there’s no real surprise there,” I said. “How about you?”

“Not serious with anyone. My serious relationships seem to work well for a year or two, sometimes three, but then they always fall apart. I’m not sure why. But the thing is, I’m happy, and I have Marcus and Alexa living with me basically full-time.”

“How’s work?”

“The life of a UDF manager is not the most exciting or glamorous, but we’re comfortable. You know I never had much growing up, so this is a big improvement, and I can make sure Marcus has everything he needs.”

“Including Alexa!” I chuckled. “I’m glad they’re happy.”

“Me, too. How are things with you?”

We were interrupted by the waitress who came to take our orders.

“OK,” I said. “Things at home are really good, though I’m having a bit of a struggle with my health issues.”

“The metabolic problems?”

“Yes, and the possible emotional effects.”

“You seem pretty upbeat.”

“Yes, though part of it is just my personality and my tendency to keep my emotions private.”

“You were always a bit of an ‘ice man’ at times, but you always showed me your emotional side. You were, and are, special. I learned from you what it means to care deeply for someone. You defied your mom, and social convention, when you treated me like anyone else when I was visibly pregnant at fifteen, and then how you treated me after Marcus was born. I can honestly say you provided the only bright spots in my life as a teenager - my first time; making love to me when I was pregnant; helping me after Marcus was born. I’ll never, ever, forget that.”

“Thanks,” I said. “You’re very special to me, and always will be.”

“I always wondered what might have happened if I’d waited for you to come home ... but I can’t ignore that would mean I wouldn’t have Marcus, so that idea is just an occasional fantasy, not something I’d actually consider if I had a chance to do things over.”

“So, in a sense, like those days you spent in Chicago a few years ago?”

She smiled, “I wouldn’t trade those three days for anything you could possibly name! But as we said, the fantasy could only be fulfilled once.”

The waitress brought our lunches - a salad for me and a chicken sandwich for Donna.

“You said nobody serious,” I said. “Are you dating?”

“Off and on. I think I’m at a point where it’s just not a big deal for me. The kids are going to live with me, and we’ll swap the master bedroom for the second bedroom. And when they have kids, I can be Grandma! And please don’t think I’m giving up in despair. It’s just at this point in time, I don’t need a man in my life, or in my bed.”

“If you’re happy, that’s all that matters.”

“I am. Have you settled down?”

“Hell no!” I chuckled. “Far from it!”

Donna laughed softly, “You are the one man who could tempt me right now, but I’m fairly sure what I said about a repeat of our fantasy is still true.”

“I actually agree with you,” I replied. “Not that I wouldn’t want to, but that we shouldn’t for exactly that reason.”

We finished our lunches and after I paid the check, we left the diner.

“I’ll probably be down again in February.”

“Call me, and we can have lunch or coffee or whatever.”

“I will,” I said. “If you need anything, anything at all, call me.”

“Thanks!”

We hugged and Donna gave me a soft kiss, then we each got into our cars and went our separate ways. It was too early to meet Anna, so I went to Green Lawn to see Nick, then took a drive around Milford to see what had changed, which wasn’t too much. I arrived at Frisch’s about ten minutes early, and got a booth. Anna and her friend Angie came in just over ten minutes later. Anna saw me and the girls came to the booth and sat next to each other across from me.

“Hi!” I said.

“Hi!” Anna replied.

“Hi,” Angie said softly.

“It’s been what?” I asked Anna. “Twelve years?”

“Thirteen, I think,” she replied.

“Did you know I ran into Kyle at the diner last summer? I didn’t recognize him, obviously, but he recognized me.”

“He told me! I take it things are still the same with you?”

“Pretty much, yes. You and Gerry?”

“Separated,” Anna said, her voice conveying a tinge of sadness. “When I took the job with P&G, I moved here with a plan he’d move as soon as he found a job here. Once I moved, he decided not to even look for one.”

The waitress came to take our orders and filled the upturned cups in front of Anna and me, but had to retrieve a pot of decaf to fill Angie’s cup.

“Kids?” I asked Anna as the waitress went to get the orange-topped coffee pot.

“Two boys. My mom watches them while I’m working. I assume Kyle told you Gina married.”

“Yes, he did.”

“You had two boys the last time I spoke with you.”

The waitress came back to fill Angie’s cup, checked if we wanted anything else, then left.

“Seven total,” I said with a grin. “Four boys and three girls, by four different women.”

“Whoa!” Angie gasped.

“Steve has a very complicated life,” Anna said. “Don’t worry about it.”

“What do you do, Angie?” I asked.

“I’m a data entry operator for an insurance company.”

“Husband? Kids?” I asked.

Anna kicked me under the table, and I saw a tear in Angie’s eye which told me I’d asked the wrong question.

“No,” Angie said, dejectedly.

“Are you still in touch with Pete and Melanie?” Anna asked, obviously wanting to change the subject.

“Yes, of course. Pete’s a US Marshal and Melanie is one of the leading criminal defense lawyers in the city.”

“We used to double-date, back in High School,” Anna said to Angie.

“What happened?” Angie asked.

“He went to Chicago for college and I went to Ohio U. We drifted apart. By the time I moved to Chicago, he was married.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” she said slowly.

I realized, right then, looking at Angie, that she was on some kind of medication. It was, to put it in computer terms, as if the clock rate on her CPU was set just a bit slow.

“We probably weren’t compatible, anyway,” Anna added.

“I need to use the ladies’,” Angie said quietly to Anna.

“Do you need me to come with you?” Anna asked.

“No.”

“OK. Come right back, please.”

“I promise,” Angie said.

She got up and walked towards the restrooms.

“Steve,” Anna said quietly, “you can see her. If she comes out and doesn’t come back to the table, please say something.”

“Sure. How much can you share?”

“She and I were really close in High School, but then she got sick and I had real trouble dealing with her illness. We lost touch when I went to Chicago, but when I moved back, I decided to look her up. I got over my ignorance about mental illness and did my best to restore our friendship. Her mom and dad need a day off from caring for her now and again, so I help out. I took the day off so I could take her to her appointments.”

“And kicking me under the table?”

“More than anything, Angie always wanted to be a wife and a mom, and she can’t. Due to her illness, she can’t have an intimate relationship because the State says she’s not competent to consent.”

“Sorry for bringing up a sore point.”

“You didn’t know,” Anna replied gently. “Angie has struggled with this since she started college. She went to Taft where she got seriously involved with a guy, but she had to drop out because of her illness, which also meant she couldn’t pursue that relationship. She’s had a lot of ups and downs over the years. She’s actually one of the lucky ones because most people with her condition end up institutionalized or medicated in such a way that they’re zombies.”

She was describing my worst fears, and I knew there was no way I could live my life the way Angie was living hers.

“I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t know. Just avoid that topic and she’ll be fine.”

“I’ll be careful. Are you and your husband on speaking terms?”

The waitress came to refill our coffee cups and once again checked if we needed anything.

“Only when he sees the kids. I’m not sure I want to get back together with him. I’m pretty sure he has a girlfriend and you know my take on that.”

“I do. You came to terms with how I live my life, though I know you never approved.”

“No, I didn’t, but it’s your life to live. I’m sorry Gerry put a stop to our visits.”

“Me, too, but not everyone is comfortable with my lifestyle. Can I ask if Angie has anyone else?”

“Her church provides a lot of support, and a doctor friend of ours and his church help out as well. It really is a team effort. We’re all worried about what will become of her if something happens to her parents.”

“I can imagine. Does she have any siblings?”

“A little brother, who helps some, but he’s in New York. She also has an older brother who’s estranged from the family and has been since we were in High School. It’s a long story.”

“Mind if I ask which church?”

“She attends a Russian Orthodox church in Loveland.”

I saw Angie come out of the restrooms and turn towards where we were sitting.

“She’s coming out of the restrooms now and is heading this way. You were worried she wouldn’t?”

“It’s happened before. She’s very frustrated by her situation.”

I could imagine, because I knew how frustrated I would be. I chafed a bit under my own restrictions, but they were nothing compared to Angie’s, nor were my symptoms serious enough to require medication. My encounter with Angie, who always seemed about a beat behind in the conversation, was driving home exactly why I refused to consider psychoactive or mood-altering drugs.

The conversation we had over the next fifteen minutes was a bit stilted as I tried to avoid the problematic subjects. That made it difficult for Anna and I to actually catch up, so in the end, we exchanged phone numbers and I promised to call when I was in town again in February. When we parted, Anna gave me a quick hug, I said ‘goodbye’ to the girls, then got into my BMW to head back to Rutherford.

During my drive, I called Tara in Pittsburgh and discussed the possibility of her helping Emmy with a campaign for Sheriff, and asked her to talk to Emmy as a favor. Tara laughed, saying she owed me so many favors at this point that it was impossible to say ‘no’, even if she wanted to, which she didn’t. I told her Emmy would be in touch soon.

December 14, 2000, Rutherford, Ohio

When I arrived at the motel, I went inside, emptied my bladder, undressed, and got into bed to take a nap, not knowing how late I’d be up, and with a need to be on the road early enough on Friday morning to make it home in time for my anniversary dinner date with my wives. I slept for about an hour, then showered, dressed, and headed to Emmy’s apartment for dinner with her and her daughter.

As I passed Kroger’s, I decided to stop and get a small bouquet, and while I was doing that, I decided to get a bottle of wine, which I could actually get at the grocery store rather than the State Liquor Store. I selected a White Zinfandel, which would go with just about anything she served, or which she could drink without a meal. Purchases in hand, I left the store and got back into the car for the short remaining drive.

“Hi!” Emmy exclaimed when she opened the door to her apartment after having buzzed me in through the outer door.

“Hi!” I said, handing her the flowers and the bottle of wine.

She hugged me and laughed, then said quietly, “Thank you, but it’s a sure thing!”

“Which is not a reason not to do it!”

“Come meet my daughter,” Emmy said.

I stepped into the apartment, she shut the door behind me, and then I followed her into the living room where a cute young girl, who looked very much like her mother, was sitting on the couch watching TV.

“Carrie, this is Mr. Adams. Steve, my daughter Carrie.”

Carrie got up from the couch and gave me a once over, clearly evaluating if I was ‘good enough’ for her mom. I seemed to pass the test when she smiled and said, “Hi, Mr. Adams.”

“Hi, Carrie,” I replied. “I have a daughter your age.”

“You’re divorced like Mom?” she asked.

“Carrie Elizabeth!” Emmy said firmly. “That’s rude!”

I smiled, “It’s OK; I find that kids often cut right to the chase, and it’s refreshing.”

I crouched down so I was more face to face with Carrie, then continued.

“I don’t mind you asking,” I said, “but your mom is right about it being impolite to ask a question like that when you first meet someone. Not everyone has the same kind of relationships.”

“But if you’re married you can’t date my mom!” Carrie protested.

“Your mom and I aren’t dating,” I said. “We’re just friends. I can be your friend, too, if you like.”

She eyed me suspiciously in the way pre-teens often eyed strange adults, and I seemed to pass whatever test it was she had in mind.

“OK.”

“Go turn off the TV, please,” Emmy said to Carrie. “Dinner is in less than five minutes.”

Emmy took the flowers to the galley kitchen and retrieved a vase which she filled with water. She put the flowers in the vase and set it in the middle of the dinette table which was set with three places.