Rebirth

"He'll tell me what I need to know when he's ready."

"Well, you should do it. If you don't, I will."

"Please don't. Tommy would feel that to be an invasion of his privacy and a breach of trust. I wouldn't want to make him uncomfortable."

At that point I returned to the table, added a tip to the credit card slip, signed it and we all walked out of the coffee shop. I had no idea that my carefully constructed wall separating me from my old life was about to crumble.

The following Saturday morning, all four of Toni's friends met me outside the yoga room. Without even a "hello", Molly started the conversation off. "Tommy, we are so, so sorry."

"What? Did something happen to Toni?"

"No," Molly replied. "I saw your credit card last Saturday and realized that Tommy wasn't your first name. You're always so tightlipped about your past and I was curious, so I Googled your name and found out about your losing your family and all the other bad things that happened to you."

In prison, you learn to keep your anger in check. If you don't, you get in trouble and you become so focused on the subject of the anger that you lose situational awareness. In a gang-ridden, violent environment, that loss of awareness can be painful or even fatal. Sam had spent hours working on helping me control my anger during the years we'd shared a cell.

I exploded. "You nosy bitch. I have made clear to you in no uncertain terms from the first time you dragged me off to coffee that there were portions of my life that I do not share and that were off limits. Who else have you told?

"Just the girls."

"Toni, too?"

"No. She had asked me not to do this. She's going to be really upset with me for doing it."

"Then you listen to me and listen good. If you or any of these other women ever tells another person about this, I will hurt you in ways you cannot begin to comprehend. I mean it. Not your husbands, not your girlfriends, not your priest, not your therapist, and certainly not Toni. I'm going to leave now and I won't be back. I don't want to see any of you ever again." And with that, I threw my yoga mat back into the corner of the room and stormed out of the gym.

As I was leaving, Toni was coming through the doors. She could see I was upset.

"Tommy. What's wrong? Where are you going?"

In the coldest tone of voice I could muster, I looked at her and said, "Ask your goddamn friends." Then off I went on a run that lasted for hours.

When I got back from my run, Toni was sitting on the steps of my apartment building. I could see that she had been crying.

"Did they tell you?" I asked.

"Molly told me that she went digging in your past, in the part you haven't been willing to share. She said that when she told you she'd done it, you exploded and threatened her."

"I did, I'm ashamed to say. Did she tell you what she found?"

"No, she didn't. I didn't want to know. You promised me that you would tell me when you were ready and I'm willing to wait."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I wanted you to know that I had nothing to do with this. She told me she was thinking about doing it last week and I specifically asked her not to. But she did it anyway."

"Look, Toni. They're your friends. They've been your friends for years. I'm, well, I don't know what I am. I don't want to make you choose between them and me, but I can't see them or interact with them anymore. They violated my privacy and broke my trust. I can't be with people who I can't trust."

"I understand. Can I come in?"

Toni had been in my apartment a handful of times, mostly to use the facilities before we went out or after going out before she went home. I asked her to take a seat and told her to make herself at home. There was wine and beer in the refrigerator and she should help herself. I'd be back in a few minutes after taking a shower.

When I came back into the living room, Toni was sitting on one end of the sofa. She had a glass of wine in her hand and had poured one for me, setting it on the coffee table.

"So," she said, "is it time we talked about whatever it is in your past that's keeping you from moving forward?"

I looked at her for a long, long time. And then I began.

I told her the entire, sorry history. I started with college, then marriage, the birth of my children, the conviction, the divorce, the deaths of my parents, the abandonment by my siblings and friends, the termination of my parental rights, the restraining order, my years in prison, the fortuitous discovery of the evidence which proved my innocence, the release from prison, the wrongful imprisonment settlement and settlement with the psychopath's estate, the counseling program that was assisting my re-entry into a world that had changed so much and the letters I'd written to my children and was still writing every two weeks. She asked me if I'd located my parents' graves, my siblings or my children. I told her that I'd engaged a private investigator to obtain the information. He'd located my parents' graves, which I had visited, provided my siblings' addresses and had given me a separate report on my children, which was sitting unopened on my desk.

Then she asked, "Did you contact your brother and your sister?"

"I wrote to them several weeks ago, giving them an outline of what happened. I asked them for pictures of my father and mother and a momento or two so I'd have something of theirs, but I haven't heard back."

"What about your children?"

"I asked the private investigator to break that portion of his report into two pieces. I've opened and read the piece that describes how they are doing. Both are doing well. Mary is a lawyer and Jon is a doctor. Mary is married to someone she met in law school. Jon is dating another doctor. Neither has any children yet. I haven't opened the portion of the report that tells me where they are, how to contact them, or what their last names are. Any information about my ex-wife is in the portion I haven't opened yet. I'm not sure what to do and I'm afraid to make a decision for fear of losing what little I have left of them. If I contacted them and they didn't want to have anything to do with me, they would truly be gone forever. At least now, I have a memory of two little children who loved me and who I loved beyond all reason."

"What are you going to do with the letters?"

"I've left instructions as part of my estate plan for my executor to contact my children and provide copies of the letters to each of them. I want them to know that their father loved them and thought constantly about them, even though he couldn't be in their lives."

"What about the restraining order?"

"As far as I know, it's still in effect. Having been inside, I have no desire to go back, and there's a risk that violating the order would put me back in a cell."

"Have you thought about having it overturned? After all, it was granted based upon an erroneous conviction and the court's conclusion that the conviction made you an unfit parent. Besides, the expectation was that you would be in prison for the rest of your life. You've been exonerated and you are no longer a prisoner."

"Wouldn't that require contact with my ex and my children? They're the ones being protected from me. That would be the same as opening that envelope over there."

"My ex-husband and I are still on speaking terms, even if he couldn't keep it in his pants. He owes me a couple of favors. How about if I get him to look into the process for you? He can tell you what you'd have to do to have the order revoked and you could make an informed decision."

"Let me think about it some more. There are way too many people here who know my story now. Adding a couple of more, even if they are lawyers, is not something I'm ready to do."

"Where are the letters you wrote to you children?"

I pointed to a series of three-ring binders on a bookshelf next to my desk. "Over there."

"May I read some of them?"

"Why would you want to do that?"

"You and I are never going to be able to move forward unless I understand more about how you've been hurt and how to deal with your loss. I think that seeing some of those letters will help me understand. They might even let me help you make a decision on what you should do."

"OK. Some of them are pretty grim. The latest ones are better, particularly the ones where I talk about you."

"Given what you've told me today, I'm not surprised. I've seen some pretty bad stuff as a PA. I think I can handle whatever is in those binders."

"Your choice. If you really think it would help us, go ahead. But don't be surprised if you end up sorry you did it."

When I finished, Toni did something she'd never done before. She stood up, walked over to me, sat down in my lap, wrapped her arms around me and laid her head on my shoulder. She didn't say a word, just hugged me.

I don't know how long she sat there. I was physically exhausted from the run and emotionally exhausted from telling her my story. I fell asleep with her in my lap, her head on my shoulder and our arms wrapped around each other.

When I awoke several hours later, she was sitting at my desk, a volume of the letters to my children open in front of her.

She looked over at me and said, "Tommy Houston, this is the most incredible love story I've ever read. No one has ever told me they loved me with the intensity that these letters tell your children how you loved them. As much as I love my children, I've never been able to convey that love with the depth and sincerity that these letters convey your love for Mary and Jon. You have to let them see them. Now, when you are still around so they can respond, not when all they can do is wish you'd told them before you died. I only wish my ex-husband felt a fraction of the love for Bobbi and James that you feel for your children, even though you haven't seen them for decades. Please don't hide these from them any longer."

She went on. "I haven't told you this because I was afraid you weren't ready to hear me say it. I'm in love with you, Tommy. Any doubts I might have had about you disappeared this afternoon when I read what you wrote. I don't know another man who has so much love in his heart. If I could have even a small piece of that love, I think I'd be the most loved woman I know. I'm not saying this to put pressure on you or even to ask you to respond. I just want you to know that you are not alone, that there is someone who loves you and wants to share your life completely."

"Toni," I said, "I'm the most badly damaged person I know who's not in prison. I've been trying to put the pieces of my life back together and I have no assurances that I will ever succeed in making those pieces into something that anyone would want to share. My counselor can explain just how damaged I am better than I can, but I'm not sure even she has a full understanding. Do you really want to take a chance on a guy like me? Do you want to risk having your kids deal with me? If it comes to it, are you willing to choose between your friends and me? You've known me for months and them for years, even decades. They are your support network. And what will your ex say? It's one thing to ask him to take me on as a client, but another altogether as a male figure in his children's lives. Are you willing to take those kinds of risks for the likes of me?"

She looked silently at me for what seemed to be forever. Then she stood up, walked across the room to me, wrapped her arms around me, said "Yes, I am. You're worth all of that and more." And then she kissed me like I hadn't been kissed in almost twenty-five years.

CHAPTER EIGHT

My next counseling session was excruciating. I explained what had happened, which forced the issue of disclosing myself to my children to the forefront. She responded, "If you want a relationship with Toni to work, you have to put this issue to bed. It's still eating you up and it's keeping you from opening yourself up to loving someone again. She loves you. She's said it and, more importantly, she's shown it. If you want, I'll meet with her, either individually or with you, if you'll agree to let me discuss you with her. I know you are afraid of ever forming a new loving relationship, lest you be hurt as a result. You need to get over your fears and take a chance. If you don't, you'll be a hollow shell of a person the rest of your days. And by the way, I think she's correct about how your children will respond if they don't receive the letters until after you are dead. It will hurt them far worse than finding out that you continued to love them even after they were taken away."

We called Toni from the counselor's office. She agreed to meet with my counselor the following week. I would be there for part of the session; Toni and my counselor would speak alone for the other part. Unlike the usual schedule, we booked two hours of time for that meeting.

That evening, Toni called me. Molly's husband George had reached out to her and wanted to speak to both of us. He wanted to meet us without Molly. He would arrange to meet after hours in his offices, so we could speak in private and with complete candor. Toni asked me if I would agree to the meeting as a special favor to her. Until last week, Molly had been her best friend and George had been particularly helpful and supportive during Toni's divorce.

George ran a large construction company. We met him at his offices at 6:00 P.M. He showed us into a conference room and closed the door. Then he started talking.

"My wife tells me she has done something terrible that hurt both of you but won't tell me what it is. She tells me it's irreparable and has ended your friendship. She is miserable and miserable to be around. She cries all the time. My kids are avoiding her like the plague and I'm finding excuses not to go home. The other girls have cut her off. She is, or at least was, your best friend Toni. You've had differences before, but you've always worked them out. For the sake of my family's happiness and my marriage, can you tell me what she can do to fix this. Please?"

Toni took the lead. "George, you know how much I love Molly. She's been my rock for longer than I can remember. You and she helped me through my divorce. I'm not sure how I could have gotten through it without your support. This is the first time you've met Tommy. Molly has probably told you that I've been seeing him for a while. Tommy has some issues in his past that he's not comfortable sharing with anyone. Molly decided to go digging. I specifically asked her not to do that. She ignored my request. She found out what those issues are, then told the rest of the girls. Tommy and I both view what she did as an invasion of his privacy and a breach of our trust. Her actions forced Tommy to discuss those issues with me long before he was ready. Her actions put my relationship with Tommy at risk and have poisoned his relationship with my friends. What she did was unforgiveable. I don't know how you repair something like that."

George sat there for a while. "Damn," he said. "My wife really screwed the pooch this time. I've known her to do some stupid things, but this one takes the cake. The only defense I have for her actions is that she loves you and wanted to make sure you were protected. I know that's a weak excuse, but it's the only thing I can think to say in her defense. I'm sorry this happened. I know how hard a request this is, but can you please forgive her? If not for her sake, for mine? For my kids'?"

"That would depend on whether Tommy is willing to let this pass," Toni replied. Both then looked at me.

"George," I said, "I don't know you from Adam, but I do know that you and Molly were there for the woman I love when she needed support. The two of you mean a lot to Toni. I can forgive Molly for Toni's sake, but I'll have a hard time trusting her ever again. I'm sure you understand where I come from. Trust is a coin that can only be spent one time. Once it's gone, it's gone forever. If Toni is willing, Molly can come back into our lives, but I don't think the relationship will be the same for a long, long time, if it ever is."

George thanked us for our time, said he'd discuss what we'd concluded with Molly, and we left his offices. As we were walking out, Toni turned to me and said, "Did I hear you say what I think I heard you say?"

"What's that?"

"That you love me?"

"I guess I did, didn't I. It kind of popped out. It's not the way I'd have wanted to tell you if I'd thought about it, but yes, darling Toni, I think I love you. It's a lot for me to process and I'm sure we'll have an interesting conversation with the counselor next week, but maybe we should begin thinking about where we go long term."

With that, I grabbed her in my arms and kissed her. She definitely kissed back. We stood there, breathless, kissed again, and walked to the car to drive back to my apartment.

CHAPTER NINE

Our counseling session was indeed interesting. When we disclosed that we'd exchanged "I love yous" we got a short "Yes!" from my counselor. When we told her that Toni had read portions of my letters to my kids, she was shocked. She went on to say, "Toni, you are the first person to break through Tommy's emotional wall since I've met him. You've done something I have been trying to do for over a year. And when you tell me he's considering letting his children see those letters before he dies, I begin to think that he really is beginning to heal. You have been enormously helpful in his healing process. I could have talked with him for years; you broke through by demonstrating your love. God bless you for all you've done for him."

Toni and the counselor talked a lot longer than the hour they'd set aside. As they were finishing, they called me back in. Toni led off the conversation. "Tommy, may I please ask my ex to explore getting the restraining order lifted. It doesn't mean that you need to reach out to your kids right away. It just means that you'll be able to when you are ready." I agreed, and Toni called her ex the following day to get him started on the legal proceedings.

I still didn't want to open the last envelope from the private investigator's report, so I gave Toni's ex, whose name was Michael, the contact information for the investigator along with permission for the investigator to disclose the information in the report to Michael for use in preparing the legal pleadings. I met with Michael a few days later. He was surprisingly gracious, considering that I was his ex-wife's boyfriend, although I'm not sure he realized how close Toni and I had become. He detailed the process for lifting the restraining order. In essence, he would prepare a petition to the court that entered the order, detailing the original factual background upon which the order was based and explaining how the facts set forth in the original petition were incorrect at the time, even though the incorrectness of that information had not yet become available until decades later. The petition would then be served on Lisa, Jon and Mary. They would have the opportunity to appear and object to the removal of the order. I would have to testify and the documentation relating to my exoneration would be filed with the court. If they failed to appear, the order would be granted as a matter of course. Even if they appeared and contested the petition, Michael was very confident that the order would be lifted, given the erroneous factual basis under which it was originally issued and the overwhelming evidence that there had been a mistake that had taken away so much from me. I asked him about the possibility of reversing the termination of parental rights. He was candid, telling me that would be very unlikely, as the time for appeals had long since expired, the children had been adopted by another man, and the time for appealing the adoption had also long expired. I wasn't surprised, but I was disappointed at that conclusion. I also asked him about publicity. He said that this kind of lower-level legal proceeding almost never came to anyone's attention and that the likelihood of it showing up in either news media or social media was infinitesimal unless I did something to direct attention to it. I assured him I had no intentions of doing any such thing. And so, he prepared, filed and served the petition.