Unbroken, page 5
When Naomi looked up, she was shocked to see tears in her mother’s eyes. “Oh, Naomi,” she whispered, reaching across the table to touch Naomi’s hand. “I’m not going to judge you for how you feel. Why would you think that?”
“Because you hate him,” Naomi sighed, pulling her hand away. “You’ve always hated him.”
Her mother blinked. “No, that’s not it at all. I hate the choices he made, yes. Maybe he’s a good man now, who knows? People don’t change very often, but it can happen. What I’m wondering, though, is that even if you do get closure with Jesse, isn’t there one more person on your list?”
Naomi’s mouth went dry. She reached for her glass of wine, but it was empty now. “Yes,” she whispered, “but he’s in prison. Isn’t there some sort of law against me seeing him?”
Her mother shook her head. “You could make a request to see him. It’s just paperwork. If he agrees, you should be able to set something up.” She reached across the table again and squeezed Naomi’s hand. This time Naomi didn’t pull away. “I’ll help you figure it out if you like.”
Naomi took a deep breath. “Maybe,” she conceded. “I mean, I’d have to fly all the way over there, and … I don’t know … it seems like a lot of trouble.”
Her mother let go of her hand. “More trouble than trying to find Jesse?” she asked with a wry smile. “At least you know where to find Eric. You have no idea where Jesse is.”
“And I doubt you’d be able to help with that,” Naomi laughed. She reached for the bottle of wine to refill her glass, but stopped herself. She’d had more than enough.
“You’d be surprised,” her mother said.
Naomi glanced up sharply. “What? How?”
Her mother smiled. “Your father has friends in high places, honey, and I have connections of my own. I’m sure we could find out something for you. It can’t be that difficult—unless he works for the CIA and they have to keep him a secret or something. I doubt that’s the case if he was allowed to call Steve and Evelyn.”
For the first time, Naomi felt something she hadn’t experienced in a long time when it came to Jesse: hope.
Hope for what, she didn’t know.
“You surprise me, Mom,” she said softly, running her finger along the edge of her plate. “I never thought for a second you’d be behind me in any of this.”
Her mother frowned, looking almost hurt. “I love you, Naomi. I’ll do anything to help you find peace.” She leaned forward as she blinked back a few tears. “My only worry is that you won’t let me.”
Naomi looked away as her mother’s distress washed over her. Their relationship wasn’t just polite, she realized. It was excruciatingly, wonderfully real. “I’ll let you help me,” she said, meeting her mother’s eyes. “I don’t think I’d have it any other way.”
VIII
“These were sitting on the fax machine,” Elena said as she set a stack of papers on Naomi’s desk.
Naomi looked up from her computer and glanced at the papers. They were in English, thank heaven. She struggled with reading and writing anything outside of cooking terms in Italian. Gianni or another one of the employees who spoke decent English usually had to help her figure out what she couldn’t decipher on her own.
“Thanks,” Naomi sighed, and turned back to her computer. She was in the middle of scheduling, and it was a mess this week.
“You’re welcome,” Elena said, but didn’t move away from the desk.
Naomi looked up at her, confused. Elena looked so young and innocent as she stared down at the papers on the desk. She was twenty-two, only a little older than Naomi had been when she had run away to Italy with Jesse. “What is it?” Naomi asked.
Elena shuffled her feet and looked at the papers she had set on the desk. “I know it’s none of my business, and I don’t know much English, but I know enough to understand what that says. Is everything okay?” She pointed to the cover sheet on top of the stack. Typed in the “from” field, all in caps, was: FCI ENGLEWOOD CO., FEDERAL BUREAU OF PRISONS, U.S. DEPARTMENT OF JUSTICE followed by the mailing address and fax number of the prison.
Naomi stopped breathing for a second. She reached for the papers with a trembling hand. It had been two weeks since her mother had told her she would call Eric’s warden and find out how to request a visit. These papers were the result.
“Everything’s fine, Elena,” she said without looking up from the papers as she shuffled through them. “I know Gianni has probably told you things, but please don’t ask me questions about any of it. These papers are something that will help me reach some closure in my life, that’s all.” She looked up to see Elena nodding.
“I understand.”
Naomi waited until she was gone and then focused on the papers. There were seventeen pages of visiting regulations and a few forms to fill out. She stopped on a brief letter from the Associate Warden stating that he had spoken to her lawyer and hoped she would fill out and return the attached paperwork so he could look further into her request.
Grabbing her phone, Naomi called her mother, who answered in a sleepy voice. She was back in California now, and Naomi cringed when she looked at the clock and realized it was close to midnight there.
“Hey, sweetheart,” her mom yawned. “Something wrong?”
Naomi loved that she didn’t sound irritated in the slightest. “Sorry for waking you up. I didn’t look at the clock first.”
“Not a problem. I just got in bed.”
“Oh, good. I got a fax from Eric’s prison. I guess you’re my lawyer now?”
Her mother laughed. “It was the easiest way to get through to the highest-ranking people. Don’t worry, it’s all legitimate. I’m sorry it took so long. I had to wait until I got back home. What did they send you?”
“Paperwork for a request, plus all the visitor rules.” She squinted at a paragraph. “I have to wear certain clothes?”
Her mother chuckled. “That’s just the beginning. Fill out what you can and send it over to them. If you don’t hear anything in a week, let me know and I’ll make more phone calls.”
Naomi squeezed her eyes shut. “Do you really think I should be doing this?” she asked. “I don’t know if I can face him.”
A long pause filled the line before her mother spoke again. Naomi imagined her squeezing the bridge of her nose like she always did when she was frustrated. “He’s the one you’ve struggled with the most, isn’t he? You have to do this. It’s time. All I’m doing is giving you a little nudge.”
“You’re right, as usual,” Naomi said. She reached for a pen on her desk. She was about to say goodbye and hang up when her mother cleared her throat.
“Naomi, sweetheart …,” she said slowly, her voice unsure.
Oh no. Naomi knew that hesitant tone all too well. Her pen hovered above a line asking for her birth date. “Yeah?”
“I was going to wait until tomorrow to call you about this, but since you’re on the line, I guess I should tell you now. Your father and I have pulled some strings—some hard-to-reach strings, mind you—and we found out where Jesse is working.”
This was it. Naomi’s body flooded with adrenaline. She felt edgy all of a sudden, as if she’d drunk too much coffee and needed to get up and walk around. She stood up, her hand tight around her phone. Whatever came next would determine so many things. If she was able to get to Jesse, she had no doubt she would do it.
“Everything Evelyn and Steve told you is true. He’s with the FBI doing surveillance work of some sort,” her mother continued. “While he was in prison, he cooperated with the FBI on several cases in exchange for a shortened sentence. He was so good at it that they ended up hiring him after he got out. He was in California for three years, and then they transferred him to DC, where he stayed until about six months ago when they transferred him to their Berlin field office inside the US Embassy.”
Naomi sat back down in her chair. All that time she had been in New York, Jesse had only been one state over. He had been free. He had been working for the government. He had been doing something good. He was still doing something good.
“Naomi?” her mother said. “Are you okay? Are you going to try to see him? I have a contact number if you want it.”
Squeezing the edge of her desk, Naomi picked up her pen and moved it over to a pad of paper. “Okay,” she said, still surprised her mother was urging her to take action. Then again, it had been so long her mother was probably desperate for it all to come to a close.
Naomi wrote down the number as her mother read it aloud. It wasn’t a direct number to Jesse, but it would get her to the right people inside the Embassy who could help her. “Thanks, Mom,” she said, barely able to get the words out. She hadn’t expected to be able to find Jesse so quickly. She wasn’t ready. First Eric and now Jesse. The two of them loomed over her like giants.
“Naomi,” her mother said after a particularly long pause. “I’ll be with you every step of the way if that’s what you need. I can go with you to see Eric. I can fly over there and help you reach Jesse.”
Naomi’s pride resisted the thought of needing her mother to hold her hand any more than she already had. “No, I can do this on my own,” she said, her voice cracking. “I mean, I want your help with all of the logistics, but the actual visits … I have to do those on my own.”
“I understand. I love you, honey. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Love you too. Good night.”
Naomi ended the call and looked down at the screen, her fingers cold as she slowly but surely dialed the number her mother had given her. If she didn’t do it now, it would only get harder.
*
Naomi set her suitcase in the entryway of her father’s Berlin apartment and brushed off a few snowflakes that had stuck to her eyelashes on the way inside. Luckily, the storm hadn’t delayed either her flight or her father’s.
“You didn’t have to fly all the way here for me,” she said as her father dropped his keys on an end table and started unbuttoning his long black coat. “It’s a thirteen hour flight. I could have stayed in a hotel.”
He turned around and pulled her into a hug. His cold cheek brushed against her forehead. “Thirteen hours in first class isn’t a big deal, honey. I’ve got some business I can do here, anyway, plus I get to spend two days with you. I miss you. Besides that, it’s Christmas.”
“Four days to go,” she laughed, and squeezed him back before pulling away to let him finish taking off his coat. She removed hers too and handed it to him to hang up in the coat closet.
“Did you think about flying back to California to spend the holiday with us?” he asked as he came back into the living room and sat in a chair across the room from her. “We’ll pay for your flight. First class.” He winked.
She sat on the leather sofa and grabbed one of the pillows. Squeezing it to her chest, she shrugged. “I thought about it, but the restaurant needs me the most during the holidays. Two nights over here in Berlin is one thing, but I can’t just leave for a week.”
Her father tilted his head. “You wouldn’t have to stay for an entire week, but I understand.” There were still snowflakes in his carefully styled hair, and he was wearing jeans and a button-down shirt instead of his usual suit and tie. Naomi smiled. She loved him so much, especially now as she was beginning to realize the same love for business management that ran in his veins ran through her veins too. If only she had understood such a thing when she was a teenager. If only she had understood how deeply her parents cared for her back then—and that their ignorant negligence of her could have been fixed with a few conversations instead of her being kidnapped and held captive for a year. She might have tried to escape a lot earlier if she had understood them better. Then again, if she had tried that, Eric probably would have killed her.
She shuddered.
“So, are you hungry?” her father asked, clapping his hands together as he stood up. “I’m starving.”
Naomi raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t they feed you on the plane?”
He gave her a sideways glance. “Fine, you got me. I’m stuffed full of chicken kiev and roasted potatoes, but you were on a short flight. What did you get? Peanuts?”
She warmed at how considerate he was. “Coke and pretzels,” she answered. “So, yes, I’m starving.”
He pulled out his cell phone. “Good, I’ll order us some food. What do you want?”
She was about to say Italian, but realized Italian was all she had eaten for the past four months. “Do they have good Chinese in this country?” she asked.
He laughed. “I keep forgetting you’ve never been here! Yes, there’s an excellent restaurant down the road.”
Naomi went into the bathroom to change out of her clothes that smelled like the airplane, and an hour later she was eating Peking duck from a takeout box. “This is better than the stuff in Chinatown,” she mumbled through her mouthful of food.
Her father picked at a piece of broccoli from another box and smiled. “I told you it was excellent.”
Naomi set down her chopsticks and rested her elbows on the table. “Thanks for being here with me, Dad,” she said. “I told Mom I wanted to do this alone, but it’s nice to have you here.”
He popped the broccoli into his mouth and wiped his hands on a napkin. “I’m here to shelter and feed you and give you moral support,” he laughed. “Meeting with Jesse is all up to you.”
“As it should be,” she said firmly, and then looked down at her food. “I can’t believe I’ll see him tomorrow. It feels strange.”
“You can do this. You survived the phone call with him, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
The phone call had lasted two minutes. It had been awkward, but Jesse had seemed happy, even eager, to meet with her. His voice had sounded deeper and lacked the casual carelessness she remembered. All they had discussed was that she would like to meet with him and he had suggested a date, time, and public meeting place in Berlin. Now here she was.
Her father grinned. “And when you’re finished clearing the air with Jesse, I’ll take you into the office for a little tour. I remember inviting you to come over a long time ago, but you didn’t have much of an interest back then.”
Naomi ate another piece of duck, excited at the prospect of seeing what her father did over here. Business was booming, and she had to admit she was eager to pick her dad’s brain about some of his tactics. “That would be great,” she said after swallowing. “I definitely have an interest now, more than you can imagine.”
“Fantastic!” he said loudly, as if he’d achieved some sort of victory. “Maybe I’ve got a replacement for CEO in the future, eh? Or at least a star employee.”
Naomi laughed, but it died in her throat a moment later.
Maybe he did.
*
Naomi stood in front of the entrance to Starbucks and held her breath. The American-based coffee chain was something familiar in an unfamiliar city, at least. She opened the door and stepped inside, immediately scanning the packed room for red hair, but there was no one who looked remotely like Jesse.
She let out a sigh and stepped in line to order something. Anything to keep her busy. Jesse had asked to meet at 10:30 in the morning. She looked at her watch. It was 10:29. Her heart hammered, pumping so much adrenaline through her that she was sure drinking any amount of coffee would push her over the edge. Maybe she would order a pastry instead.
With a butter croissant in hand, she found an empty table near the window and sat down. She took a bite of the croissant and cringed. It was horrible, nothing like the croissants served in the little French bakery down the road from Bella Fonte. She kept eating it anyway until a man with rich red hair stepped into the cafe.
Naomi looked at him so intently she felt her eyes bugging out of her head. Was that Jesse? It looked like him, but didn’t. He was wearing a suit and tie, something she had never seen him in before. His hair was short, practically buzzed on the sides and slightly longer on the top, his curls barely long enough to be called curls.
His freckles were exactly the same.
Naomi let out a breath so heavy it blew a few of her croissant crumbs off the table.
Age had done something marvelous to him. Or maybe it was the suit. Or the haircut, or the confident way he stopped and swept his stunning green eyes around the room. He was more handsome than he’d ever been.
His eyes landed on her, and a velvety smile lit up his face. He strode over to her, his caramel-colored silk tie catching a bit of the light from the window.
“Hi,” he said almost breathlessly as he stopped behind the empty chair across from her. “You’re here.”
She nodded as a million words caught in her throat. She realized the last of her croissant was raised to her lips. She stuffed it into her mouth without thinking, instantly regretting the decision as she was forced to chew quickly and swallow.
“I am,” she finally managed to respond, and waved her hand vaguely at the empty chair. “Do you … do you want to sit down?”
He looked down at the chair as if it had just appeared. “Oh, sure.”
When he was seated, he stared at her, as if trying to reconcile the woman before him with the one he’d left at the airport more than a decade ago. Naomi returned the gesture, unable to tear her gaze away. She did the math and figured out he would turn forty in January.
That fact struck her hard, like a hammer blow signaling the reality of passing time … and change.
She would be thirty-three in May, but Jesse didn’t seem that much older than her. The seven-year age gap felt less and less significant the older she got. He looked vibrant. Young. Happy. His face was clean-shaven, his eyes sparkling, his hands clasping on the table as he leaned forward and opened his mouth to speak. There was no wedding band on his finger.
“Naomi,” he said slowly, “I feel like I should have contacted you before this.”
