It Ain't Paranoia if... Pt. 02 Ch. 06

"My eye?" I muttered.

"We will see, but I believe it will heal and vision will be restored; at least to some degree." Well, fuck; not the answer I wanted, but better than "You're blind."

"Before you ask, Mr. MacGregor, we have a dentist standing by to begin treating you. It is late in the day, so we will arrange for him to see you tomorrow."

He sighed, but smiled in a kindly way. "We are very aware of your medical situation and the pain it must engender; now that you are conscious, we will increase the pain medications so you can rest and recover.

"We have been briefed regarding your kidnapping and rescue. You are a man of some standing, based on the status of those who apprised us of your situation and the need for us to 'fix' you, and the imperative to report to the state department twice daily regarding your status.

"We would do our best if you were a simple citizen of this country or any other, so you can be confident you are and will continue receiving the best care possible. You aren't out of the woods yet, but you have responded well to treatment.

"Now comes the hard part, Mr. MacGregor - patience! This will not be a 'quick fix', and your recovery will depend largely on your own efforts, pain tolerance, and patience."

That had all been interesting, but whatever she put in my IV tube made me not give much of a damn, and very sleepy.

****

Patience is not one of my strongest virtues, but I really didn't have a choice. The days turned into weeks, the weeks into a month. I had limited visitors, but Armando, Felix, and Charlie were close by throughout.

I inquired about my family on the second day, and learned that Kaitlyn had been taken from The Resort in Arizona to the Mountain Lair as soon as they learned of Volkov's plan. His men had regrouped and attacked the Lair, but were decimated by a far superior force of Ultimate Solution personnel and Rough Riders, the new name for the combined forces of The Brotherhood and Terlingua Militia.

The doctors had not allowed my use of any electronic devices, including cell phones, during the first several weeks of recovery, but now I had a new iPhone. No contacts so I can only call those whose numbers I have memorized, but I can text, call, and facetime the kids.

I'm not certain my assurances about my medical condition were fully accepted, because, as Grace told me in a distraught voice, "They won't let us come see you! They say you are too sick, Daddy!" I told her I was far away, on another continent, but that appeased her not at all, so I promised I'd try to get that corrected so they could come visit "soon."

When I was able, I appointed Ashley as COO. She called me daily at 9am Texas time, and we discussed whatever business items on her agenda. The flirting and teasing were things of the past, and she never mentioned our two nights of carnal joy. I hinted a few times, but she quickly returned to the business items; I got the hint, and let it be.

The eye patch came off, and I could see quite well after a few days of distorted vision due to the remaining blood in the eye. The dental work was completed over the first three weeks, which was a major relief - and I now had a perfect smile! Even if they are implants.

My fractures are healing well and I have a light cast on my arm, but still six weeks or more on my leg due to it being weight bearing. My internal injuries are considered completely healed, but there is residual soreness. Felix assures me he will fix that when I start "REAL PT" again.

Boredom overtook me after six weeks, and I convinced Felix and Armando to take me for a ride. This being my first trip to Norway, I wanted to see something besides the view of Oslo from my window, although the autumn leaves have been quite impressive.

Our field trip was enjoyable but short. It had to be, since daylight is little more than six hours in November at Oslo. Still better than above the Arctic Circle in northern Norway, where the sun doesn't shine at all by late November! However, you can see the aurora borealis.

I wanted to tour a Fjord, but the nearest was over 200 miles away, so we went to the Viking Ship Museum and wondered at the distant travels they accomplished in essentially overgrown rowboats. Asia, the Middle East, parts of Northern Africa, as well as Iceland, Greenland, and Newfoundland, where there is proof they built a colony.

All that in an open "ship" not more than 65' long, with 24-50 oars and a single sail. The sat on their belongings while they rowed, and slept on deck. I was flabbergasted and awed by these intrepid adventurers. That they also murdered, raped, pillaged, and plundered made them less than heroes in the eyes of modern man, but they were doubtlessly brave and tough to a degree rarely seen on earth.

****

Given the seven-hour time difference, the kids and I had established the thirty minutes just before they went to school as our "happy half-hour." It was 7:15 am there, but already 2:15 here, so we facetimed or talked on the phone three days a week at that time. They were always happy and chatty, if displeased by my long absence.

The guys from Mayo had gone home, leaving me in the care of a Norwegian doctor with a wicked sense of humor who loved to tease. He and I got along well, but I was so used to his jabs and barbs, I didn't really hear him when he abruptly dismissed me. "Okay, Rob, you can go home now," he said nonchalantly.

He laughed at my puzzlement, and then explained that all my life-threatening injuries were healed, so my remaining rehab consisted of using my crutches for a few more weeks and being conscientious about checking my abdomen daily for suddenly painful spots.

"I don't really trust you to stick to the protocols listed on this sheet," he said, "but the woman who calls every other day to check on you assures me she will enforce them strictly, and I learned you have a medical doctor in your household. I feel comfortable in releasing you into their care, even though you are a irresponsible about taking care of your body! You have far too many scars for a man your age who isn't soldier!"

I wondered who that was, since I still hadn't spoken to Kaitlyn. Ashley? Eva? No, that was wrong because he spoke of releasing me to 'them'. It was idle curiosity at best, keeping my mind occupied while I packed the few items my guardians had bought for me once I could leave the bed. Felix and Armando came in before I finished, and I excitedly directed them to get us tickets to Dallas ASAP.

They chuckled and told me we already had seats reserved - on a private jet sent by Secretary Yonkers. At my raised eyebrow, he continued, "Oh, you didn't know the President appointed him the new Secretary of Defense? Yes, that happened soon after your rescue."

I'm sure I looked as surprised as I felt, but they just grinned and said they had more to share, but the plane would be here soon.

The plane was a three-engine Falcon LX capable of reaching the US without refueling. After I got over the luxurious furnishings, and our drink and dinner orders were taken by the elegant flight attendant, my guardians began their briefing.

In summary, Edward Robert Lee was again serving as Attorney General, having been appointed at the same time as Tom Yonkers. Both predecessors had been fired, and had disappeared from the public eye soon thereafter. Volkov had also disappeared, was assumed dead, but his organization was being systematically dismantled in countries around the world, other than Russia. Even Lithuania and Estonia had joined the purges, and had recovered large sums of money from his criminal accounts.

Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán had not been heard from since Volkov disappeared. The Minister of Minerals and Petrology, however, suddenly had the power to award the pipeline and drilling rights spelled out in the contract; the very one we were celebrating at the state dinner.

He awarded them to COG, where Al Varga was the newest VP. His duties included oversight of the Hungarian project, and efforts to acquire more leases in Hungary and eastern Europe. I smiled, knowing he would do a good job, and my skills would be called upon again.

No one mentioned the mother of my children, so I asked, "So what happened with Kaitlyn? Is she still at the Lair or back in Arizona?" Both shrugged and admitted they hadn't heard her mentioned since just after the battle at the Lair with Volkov's men.

Felix looked puzzled for a moment, and observed, "Thinking about it, that's kind of strange, given that Clay is back in Davis County and we talk to him every few days. You'd think he'd have mentioned her."

****

We refueled somewhere in western Pennsylvania, and landed at an airfield just outside Fort Davis. I assumed it was the Crescent Moon Ranch, but I couldn't identify it from the air in the early morning light. There were too many buildings and hangers, and the runway was at least 9000 feet, maybe more. If this was "my" new ranch, a lot of development had taken place since the last time I was here.

There was no obvious outside activity, but a Suburban was waiting on us when we finished taxiing back. Claude was the only one in it. He greeted us warmly, told Felix and Armando that breakfast was being served in the mess hall and he would drop them off. After that, they would be assigned beds and he expected them to catch up on sleep and jet lag before returning to duty tomorrow.

Claude was pleasant but reserved after he dropped the others off; our normal free and easy banter was missing, and he looked tense. When he slowed down to let the gate to the Lair open, I asked, "What's going on, Buddy? You are far too tense - what am I walking into?"

He sighed. "Sorry. I guess I am tense. There are indications the uprising is going to take place sooner than expected, and our forces aren't fully built up and trained."

"Okay, I get that, but why is your ass so tight when you're taking me home? Am I in for some unpleasant surprise?"

Another sigh. "I don't know what you will find, to be honest. Your ex-wife has been... awfully reserved and... introspective... since she was abruptly returned from her treatment. She doesn't talk much, if at all, around me or Eva. I've seen her talking to Clay some, after he came back, but Doc and the Uncles are also very concerned about her mental state."

It was my turn to sigh. He parked, I got my suitcase out, and he took it inside while I crutched up the stairs and to the kitchen. We poured cups of coffee, and then I steeled myself and started to the stairs. "Rob..." he began.

I shrugged and kept hobbling up the stairs, and to the master bedroom... which was empty. I tried the room Kaitlyn had claimed before our reconciliation, and found her there, laying among tangled sheets, asleep. She was alone.

Laying on her side, golden hair laying across her cheek and jaw, she looked purely angelic in repose. I lay the crutch against the wall and hobbled the two steps to the side of the bed she was facing. Gently moving the golden stands from her beautiful face, I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. She stirred, but continued sleeping, so I did it again.

This time she stirred, and her eyes opened. My face was only inches away. "Ummm, thank you, Honey. That's my favorite way to wake up!" She stretched her arms above her head, yawned, and then bolted upright!

"Rob! You're home!"

And then she began sobbing uncontrollably.

I sat on the bed, pivoted my feet, and reached for her. As soon as she felt my hands, she dove against me, wrapped her arms around me, and sobbed against my chest. I held her gently but firmly, and let her cry. My injuries resented the pain the pressure caused, but my heart was overjoyed.

After a good ten minutes, the sobs began to slowly subside. Her forehead was still against my chest, and my shirt felt wet all the way to my belt. I continued holding her with my left arm, and began slowly and gently stroking her hair with my right hand. The sobs became intermittent, and then stopped.

"I'm sorry," was murmured quietly from my chest.

As quietly as she, I replied, "There's nothing for you to be sorry about, Darling. But I do need to apologize to you for all the pain and suffering I've caused you."

Her tear stained eyes rose to look into mine incredulously. "No! No, Rob," she said, shaking her head. "My counselors helped me understand my problems, and the reasons I've done the things I've done to you! You have nothing to apologize for; it's all me!"

"Hush!" I replied firmly. "We can argue all day about whose fault something is if you want to, but all I want to do is hold you. Can we do that? We can argue all you want, but I get to hold you while we do! I've missed your terribly!"

****

We managed to convince our overly excited children that it was still a school day, even if Daddy was home, but I had to ride with them and walk them to the school door. We returned home, ate breakfast, got a mug of coffee, and talked. Sometimes she sat beside me, sometimes we sat across from each other, and sometimes we stood side by side and looked across the mountains while we talked, but we talked. And everyone gave us privacy, wherever we were.

Her lengthy treatment finally led to "an awakening," she claimed. A sudden insight into tendrils from her childhood that affected her teen and early adult years far more than they should have, because she failed to mature mentally and emotionally.

Her stunted emotional and mental growth had led to illogical conclusions and decisions that ultimately ruined our marriage and destroyed our happy family, and that plagued her when under the levels of stress and pressure she had encountered since we got back together in the Big Bend.

Psychological and medical terms were tossed about, as well as theories to explain this or that, and she spouted it all with total sincerity.

There were times it sounded like psycho mumbo jumbo, and times it sounded like she had converted to some eastern religion, but I let her talk, I listened, and I processed. And slowly I began to understand.

I would definitely use different phrasing and less jargon, and my definition of key terms might differ, but I couldn't really disagree with the "enlightened conclusions" at which she, with her therapist and counselor, had arrived.

As an example, she explained, while able to empathize with and love her children, she still saw them and felt their needs and emotions through the lenses of her own needs and emotions. While not clinically narcissistic, they assured her, she had remained so self-centered her love for family, her husband, her children, and her friends was conditioned upon her needs also being met by her giving of love.

That also applied to our marital relationship, they determined, but there was a second factor. Having established such an elevated position in her hierarchy of needs while courting her, she didn't understand why I couldn't continue to satisfy her need for attention and reinforcement while carrying out my duties, which included significant travel. The "cognitive dissonance" created she was able to overcome by allowing her emotional needs to supersede her logic.

All that said, what I heard was 'she was a spoiled child who became a spoiled teenager and then a spoiled adult, which I abetted when we were dating and first married. I met her need to marry the right man in order to create the perfect union and live happily ever after. The children met her need to became a mommy with perfect children and create the perfect family.

So all was good, but as the children took more of her "me" time, and I gave her less of mine, her needs for attention and reinforcement were left wanting; enter Robert.

And, naturally, since every painful and frightening event in her life involved her relationship with me....

All neat and clean, right?

Not in my mind! Yes, she was a spoiled princess and, yes, I enabled her by trying to make her life "perfect in every way." We had covered all that before, after her confession at La Kiva. But the woman who appeared on my patio in the desert, the woman I'd spent more than a year with before the kidnapping, wasn't at all like that. She wasn't the flighty, self-absorbed girl I divorced: she had her head screwed on pretty tight. In fact, she was a woman 'to ride the river with', as they say in the Bend.

What happened to her in Mexico - mentally, I mean? I better understand the ramifications of brutal assaults on one's psyche after Lithuania, but I guess I don't understand what happens when you add rape to the physical assault. I wanted to dig deeper on that element, but it wasn't my turn to talk; today I was the listener. So I let her talk; I heard and tried to process.

Maria read the situation and, while we were standing out by the patio wall, simply brought a tray with two plates of carne guisada tacos, rice, beans, and salad, and iced tea to the table nearest us. We ate without more than polite conversation, and then Kaitlyn resumed her explanation / therapists' theories.

With only an hour before school let out, she hesitated a second too long, giving me an opening; I took the opportunity to change the topic. "I've heard a lot about your therapist and counselor, and I can tell you think they have you figured out. I'm not as certain about that, but I am certain that you had an excellent personal trainer! Your always-hot body is now a smoking molten-hot body! Do you have an ounce of fat anywhere on you?"

That took the concentration lines off her pretty face and froze that dynamic mouth in a smile. "Thank you! I'm surprised you can tell anything about me with these baggy jeans and flannel shirt!

"Yes, Brandon or April worked me hard every day! I lifted weights, ran distance, ran sprints, danced until I nearly dropped, and did so many exercises every day I could barely get up after I sat down! I even..."

She'd gone motor mouth again, so I took the untucked hem of the shirt and raised it until her bra showed. "Nice six pack!" I offered.

Staring at her bare belly, I placed my fingers just below her bra, and slowly ran them down over her rectus abdominus and oblique abdominal muscles, stopped to diddle her belly button, and then moved down until my fingers were just touching the jeans.

I slipped my fingers inside and tugged on the waist, creating a two-inch gap. Her eyes were wide; mine were mischievous, and the grin on my face almost malicious.

I dropped the shirt and put my thumbs in the loops of the jeans, kneeled, and pulled down.

As soon as the waist cleared that prime round butt, the baggy jeans fell to the ground, bunching around her white tennies. The plain white cotton panties weren't at all sexy, but what was beneath certainly was.

I leaned forward to kiss and tongue her belly button while I unbuttoned the shirt. She was holding her breath, staring down at me. When the shirt was unbuttoned, I pulled it down over her arms. Now she was standing on the patio wearing only a simple white bra and panties.

The bra had a front clasp, which made my next move too easy. She didn't even try to stop me from pulling it over her arms and off, but she did look around to see if anyone was watching. Her nipples were unnaturally swollen and stiff, crinkling the areolas. She hissed in a breath when the chilly air hit them, but remained still.

My mouth approached her panties, which my hands began pulling down. When I knew she was completely shaven, I paused. "I'm thinking about dipping my tongue in your honey pot. I'm not going to taste someone else, am I? You know how sensitive my taste buds are..."

"No, Baby!" she promised while pulling my head toward her. "I swear there has been no on else since I returned from Mexico, and those were not done willingly!"

I pulled the panties down to her ankles; she quickly stepped out of them and the jeans, spread her legs, bent her knees, and thrust her hips forward. It had been a long day and night since she'd bathed, and she was both fragrant and exceedingly wet.