“… It’s a long story,” Kerri said, shifting her focus to a tall well dressed man standing beside her mother. He wore a brown tweed sport coat, gray flannel pants, and well buffed brown shoes. A brown bow tie adorned his pale blue buttoned down shirt. His hair was shoulder length, thick and white. He looked like a hippy who had morphed into a college professor.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Barbara said, embarrassed by her oversight. “I should have introduced you two right away.” She turned to her elderly companion. “David, I want you to meet my daughter… Kerri, this is David Harmon, the man I’m going to marry.”
Harmon offered a warm smile, then took a step in Kerri’s direction and extended his hand. “I’m very happy to meet you, Kerri. Your mother’s told me nothing but good things about you.”
In spite of Harmon’s age, Kerri immediately understood why her mother was attracted to him. His smile and deep brown eyes exuded kindness and a knowing awareness. She held his hand and grinned. “I’m happy to meet you too, David,” she said, struggling to suppress her sadness.
“I’m sure you girls have a lot to talk about,” Harmon said. He pointed to the exit. “I’ll get the car and meet you just outside the Arrivals door.”
Barbara smiled and blew a kiss to Harmon. “Thanks, darling,” she sang, then turned to Kerri. “Now, tell your mother all,” she demanded.
As if a dam had burst, Kerri released her caged emotions. Tears streamed from her eyes as she hugged her mother and wept.
Barbara elected to postpone insist on an explanation. “No matter how bad it is, please remember I’m here for you. I always will be.” She kept her arm around Kerri’s shoulder and led her toward the door.
The shrill horn of Harmon’s car caught Barbara’s attention. “There he is,” she said, pointing to Harmon’s steel-gray Jaguar, splattered by heavy rain and parked more than fifty yards away. “Let’s run,” she said, reaching for Kerri’s hand.
Kerri remained silent in the back seat of Harmon’s car while it inched northward on Granville Street toward downtown Vancouver. She was in no mood for small talk and unwilling to discuss her situation in the presence of a man she barely knew.
“Did I tell you David’s a writer?” Barbara asked, loud enough for Harmon to hear.
Kerri interrupted her constant stare out her window to glance at Harmon. She forced a pleasant smile. “What do you write, David?” she asked.
Harmon focused on Kerri’s face in his rear view mirror. “Most of the material I’ve written lately is…”
Barbara interrupted. “David’s far too modest. He has a doctorate in biochemistry and he’s written five books on genetic codes. The last one’s been published in thirteen different languages.”
Kerri was both interested and fascinated. “Congratulations. Would it be possible for me to get a copy of the last one? Even if I don’t understand it, it would be an honor to read a book written by my stepfather.”
Harmon smiled at Kerri via the rear view mirror. “It would be an honor to have my stepdaughter read it, but I’m afraid it would bore you.”
Thirty minutes later, Harmon maneuvered his car into a parking space very close to the front door to Barbara’s apartment building, an aging but clean ten story structure facing English Bay. He turned to face his passengers. “I doubt it will disappoint either of you to learn that I’m going to have to leave you here for a couple of hours. Some rather urgent business requires my attention.”
Barbara commenced her interrogation when they entered the elevator. “Okay, start from the beginning… No. First tell me what happened to your cheek. Was it Brian? Did he hit you?”
Kerri nodded. “Everything was fine until Brian’s knee was hit last November. That was the beginning of the end.”
“Why?” Barbara asked, then leaned against the mirrored elevator wall.
Kerri exhaled and shook her head. “I wish I knew for sure. I can only guess… He replaced center stage with booze. I had no idea it was a problem. We laughed about it at first, but eventually it stopped being funny.”
“Did you ever confront him about it?” she asked.
“Miles Dennis suggested I get one of his teammates to do it instead, so I did. That was a big mistake. Brian really resented the interference. He hit me for the first time ever. Then he left and stayed out all night… He came home yesterday. Foolishly, I decided to confront him. That turned out to be the coup de grace.”
“What did he do?”
Kerri burst into tears and covered her face with her hands. “He went ballistic and hit me again. Then he packed a bag and left.”
“He’ll be back. I know he will,” Barbara promised, then wrapped her arms around Kerri.
“I don’t care what he does any more. He’s ruined the marriage, mom. It can never be the same.”
Barbara lifted Kerri’s chin with her fingers. “I can’t believe it!” she said, shaking her head. “You two were so much in love.”
“I really tried, mom. The man I loved got lost in a bottle.”
“Is there another woman?”
“I don’t know.”
Barbara, exuding empathy for her daughter’s emotional turmoil, kissed her forehead. “I’ve got a great idea. Take a hot bath. I know you’ll feel a lot better.”
Kerri entered the room where she had spent so many nights as a teen. She frowned as she stared at her one and only window and saw the same narrow view of English Bay, wedged between the same two ugly apartment buildings she had grown to hate. Minutes later, she lowered her head to one of the numerous pillows on her bed and fell into a deep sleep.
CHAPTER 43
She was awakened by a stabbing pain caused by the pressure of her left cheek against her pillow. After a moment of disorientation her thoughts returned to her New York job and to her marriage, both of which she was certain were terminal. Even though a large part of her wanted to return, she knew it would be impossible to survive alone in that expensive city on her salary. Her expenses would easily eclipse her income from the job which had given her a measure of independence she had never before experienced.
A gentle knock interrupted her thoughts.
Barbara opened the door barely enough to look in. “Good. You’re awake. How are you?”
“Fine.”
“Want to talk?” Barbara asked, then sat on the bed beside Kerri.
Kerri shook her head. “It hurts too much.”
Barbara reached for Kerri’s hand. “I understand… Do you want to be alone?”
“No. Please stay.”
“Guess what,” Barbara said, almost bursting with excitement, her face radiating happiness and anticipation. “The wedding’s tomorrow afternoon. That urgent business David said he had to complete was really to set the whole thing up. Nigel Bennett, a minister in Victoria and a dear friend of David’s, will be taking the ferry to Vancouver tomorrow morning. David and Nigel are going to take us to lunch at my favorite restaurant in the whole world. Then we’re going to come back here and get dressed. At four, I’m going to marry that man and spend the rest of my life with him.”
“Where’s the ceremony going to be?”
“On top of Grouse Mountain.”
“Fabulous! Have you planned a honeymoon?” Kerri asked, dying inside yet prodding herself to share her mother’s joy.
Barbara frowned, shook her head and squeezed Kerri’s hand.. “We can’t go anywhere under the circumstances… I can’t leave you now.”
“Yes you can,” Kerri insisted. “I won’t let you to miss one day of happiness because of me. I won’t let you do it, mom. It wouldn’t be fair to you or David.”
“Then come with us. David wants to go up to Whistler for a couple of days, then to Hawaii for two weeks.”
“That wouldn’t work and you know it. I’d be a terrible drag. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I’ve learned how to survive on my own. Be happy, mom. If you don’t go on that honeymoon, I’m going to tell David to kidnap you.”
“What will
you do? Have you made any decisions?”
Kerri shook her head.
“Will you join us for dinner at the Bayshore tonight? David really wants to get to know you.”
Kerri smiled. “I’d like that very much.”
New York. Saturday, March
Tina DeSouza placed a quarter in the pay telephone inside the entrance to Runway Thirty-eight. She dialed the number of The Times.
A woman answered. “The Times. How may I help you?” she asked.
“May I speak to the sports editor, please?”
“One moment.”
Seconds later, a man answered, “Hi. Mark Duncan speaking. What can I do for you?”
“Are you the sports editor?”
“Ah, no. I’m his assistant. May I help you?”
“Maybe you can… Have you ever heard of Brian Pyper?”
“If you’re talking about the Jets’ quarterback, I sure have. Why?”
“You interested in a big scoop?”
“I like scoops of all sizes. What have you got?”
“Pyper’s spending a lot of time with a stripper at Runway Thirty-eight, near La Guardia. Her name is Tina DeSouza.”
“Sounds interesting. Who am I talking to?”
“That’s not important. If you’re interested in the story, just send a reporter to Runway Thirty-eight, tonight. Make sure he has a camera.”
“They don’t allow cameras inside strip-joints. Just tell me what a reporter’s going to see.”
“Tell him to use his imagination,” Tina said, then hung up.
CHAPTER 44
Vancouver. Sunday, March 18, 1990
Miraculously, the thick gray layer of clouds which had blanketed Vancouver had dissipated, allowing the wedding to begin under an almost cloudless sky. The late afternoon sun blessed the wedding of Barbara Larkin to David Harmon. Warm air made it possible to have the ceremony on the outer deck of The Observatory, a magnificent steel, glass and wood restaurant perched at the summit of Grouse Mountain, six thousand feet above the City of Vancouver.
To the extreme delight of David Harmon, Peter, his handsome forty-two year old son from his first marriage, had flown all the way from Hong Kong to be his father’s best man.
Nigel Bennett, a graying giant of a man, wearing a black suit and clerical collar, stood facing the four in the wedding party. “Let us begin,” he commanded with ministerial authority, his hazel eyes focused on Barbara.
Kerri stared beyond Bennett, her eyes focused on the silhouette of Vancouver Island, fifty miles to the west. The minister’s words seemed distant and muffled to her as she allowed her mind to wander. She managed to focus when Bennett asked for vows.
“Do you, Barbara, take David to be your lawfully wedded husband, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”
“I do,” Barbara declared.
Bennett turned to David and smiled. “Do you, David, take Barbara to be your lawfully wedded wife, for better or worse, in sickness and health, until death do you part?”
Kerri repeated the vows in her mind and in unison with the minister. She remembered her own vows and recalled how important they were to her when she married Brian. “How could he forget?” she asked herself. “The commitment was forever, without reservation. No matter how…” She glanced upward and smiled. “No matter how sick he was.”
An elbow bumped Kerri’s arm and interrupted her thoughts. She turned to see her mother glaring at her. “The ring,” Barbara mouthed with an annoyed and anxious expression.
Kerri had been carrying David’s wedding ring in the palm of her left hand. The white knitted wool dress she was wearing had no pockets. Sporting a reddened face and sheepish grin, she handed the ring to her mother.
Barbara turned and placed the gold band on the third finger of David’s left hand.
Clasping the left hands of both Barbara and David, Bennett continued, “With the exchange of rings and the declaration of your vows, one to the other, and by the power vested in me by the Province of British Columbia, I hereby pronounce you husband and wife.” He grinned. “It’s okay now, David. You may kiss your bride.”
After a lengthy and passionate kiss, David held Barbara’s hand high in front of him and pretended to address a large congregation. “Ladies and gentlemen of the City of Vancouver and the world, it gives me great pleasure to present the new, Misses David Harmon.” He faced Barbara and winked. “The whole world won’t stop clapping until I kiss you again… May I?”
With an adoring smile, Barbara did the honors.
David took a deep breath after the kiss, then turned to face the small wedding party. “In the spirit of the occasion, I’ve made reservations for cocktails and dinner for the five of us aboard The Islander. At this moment she’s docked at the foot of Burrard Street, and will be casting off at five-thirty. If we leave immediately, I think we’ll make it.”
As the members of the wedding party headed for the cable-car, Barbara reached for Kerri’s arm and drew her closer. “Where were you during the ceremony?” she asked with a muffled whisper and a scowl.
“New York.”
“I’m sure you were.”
“Your vows helped me make a decision. I’m going back, mom.”
“What did our vows have to do with it?”
“I promised to have and to hold him in sickness and in health. Brian’s sick, mom. His injury and the alcohol made him sick. I can’t just walk away from that vow. I can’t.”
“I think you’re being overly sentimental. That son of a bitch hit you and left you.”
“There’s no way he would have done either if he was well. I wasn’t there for him. I chickened out and left him.”
“But to go back to him! That’s got be the ultimate in masochism! I hope you realize you could be hurt again,” Barbara warned.
Kerri nodded. “I have to go, mom. Brian needs me and I’m going to do whatever it takes to help him.”
CHAPTER 45
Vancouver International Airport. Monday, March 19, 1990.
A torrential downpour drenched Kerri’s gigantic red and white Air Canada 747 as it thundered skyward. Seated behind the starboard wing, she stared unfocused at the hundreds of droplets on the outer surface of her window. Trepidation plagued her, yet she looked forward to returning to her job and to Miles Dennis, the one and only person in New York City who would be happy to see her.
The captain’s baritone voice broke the silence on the airplane four hours later. “This is your captain speaking. We should be landing in the next ten or fifteen minutes. The weather in New York isn’t all that bad, for March. It’s clear and cool, about forty-five degrees.”
It was six-fifteen, New York time, when Kerri’s plane touched down at Kennedy International Airport. After clearing customs and picking up her bags, she took a taxi to her apartment.
Her heart pounded when the cab rounded the final corner and moved to within sight of her apartment. She strained to see the living room and bedroom windows facing the street, but saw no lights. Her hands shook when she unlocked the front door. She kicked three unopened newspapers inside, then entered and closed the door. She turned on the lights and scanned the apartment for evidence of Brian’s return. None.
She telephoned Miles Dennis. After three rings, she heard the familiar message on his answering machine.
“Miles, it’s Kerri. I just called to tell you I’m back in New York. I’ll see you at work tomorrow morning.”
Kerri was awakened at ten forty-five by the loud ring of the telephone beside her bed. She managed to turn on the night table lamp with her eyes tightly shut. With one eye barely open, she lifted the receiver, answered, then pulled the covers over her head to preserve darkness.
“It’s Miles… Did I wake you up?”
“No. I’m still asleep.”
“Sorry. I just assumed you’d still be awake. How are you?”
“Fine, under the circumstances. How are you?”
&nb
sp; “Tired. I’ve been working my fingers to the bone. I didn’t realize how valuable you had become until I had to work without you. I can’t tell you how glad I am to have you back… Is Brian there?”
“No. I’m alone.”
“No notes, flowers?”
“Nothing.”
“Do you subscribe to The Times?”
“Yes. Why?”
“… If you’ve got today’s edition, you’ll find a picture of your husband in the sports section… I should warn you. It’s not pretty.”
“Why? What am I going to see?”
“He’s with a woman… A stripper.”
“It’s probably just a publicity thing,” Kerri said, unwilling to accept any notion of her husband’s infidelity.
“Unfortunately, it doesn’t look like it’s got anything to do with publicity… Maybe I should come over there. I don’t want you to be alone when you see it.”
Kerri’s heart pounded as she wiped tears from her eyes. “Thanks for offering, but I can handle it. I’m over twenty-one.”
“Don’t hesitate to call me if you change your mind.”
“I won’t,” Kerri promised. She hung up, then leaped from the bed and raced to the front door. She descended to her knees and ripped the Wednesday edition of The Times from its clear polyethylene cover. She removed the sports section and dropped it on the floor in front of her. In the center of the front page was an eight inch square photograph of Brian and another woman. Brian, obviously unwilling to be photographed, was attempting to shield his face with the palm of his left hand. His right arm was wrapped around the woman’s shoulder.
Kerri’s eyes shifted to the caption at the bottom of the photo. Her blood turned cold as she read, “QUARTERBACK SNEAK??? New York Jets’ star quarterback, Brian Pyper, was seen leaving Runway Thirty-eight early this morning. Accompanying him was super-stripper, Tina DeSouza. Pyper’s wife was unavailable for comment.”
The photograph spoke volumes. Kerri’s focus darted back and forth between her husband and the stripper. Disappointment and rage exploded inside her. She was heartbroken. The equation of her marriage had been altered, permanently. Never again would she experience the purity of their relationship. She thumped the photograph with her fist. “You bastard!” she screamed, tears blurring her vision. “How could you do this? How could you destroy such a beautiful thing?”