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Chapter Thirty-Two
“Okay. Thank you, I appreciate you letting me know,” Donovan said, then ended the call and set his cellphone down on the table in front of him. He folded his hands into a ball in front of him, rested his elbows on the table ledge, and pressed his forehead against his intertwined fingers. He closed his eyes and breathed deep.
“You okay, bro? Was that bad news about your security clearance?” Donovan looked up. For a moment, he’d forgotten that Troy was even in the room, but there he sat, across the kitchen table from Donovan, working on paperwork for his contracting business.
Donovan grimaced. Well, damn, he thought. I guess every job has paperwork.
Troy’s words worked their way into his consciousness and he shook his head in answer. “Nah. Not bad news. No news, really. There hasn’t been any real forward motion. That was Flowers, the head of the investigative team. He did say that some of the dates on the documents they’d been able to procure so far didn’t match up and that, if everything plays out as it now looks like it will, it will go down as a clerical error. Which won’t affect my clearance. Nothing’s certain, though.”
He delivered the entire speech in a monotone, devoid of any expression in either his face or his voice.
Troy put his pen down and leaned back in his chair. “Why do you sound like someone just kicked your puppy? That’s good news. Isn’t it?”
Donovan shrugged. “Well, it’s not bad news.”
Troy shook his head. “Maybe I’m not understanding what you said. From what I got, barring anything crazy happening, you’re getting your security clearance. So everything is going to go back to normal. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
Donovan nodded, his head moving slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, it is. It’s what I want.”
Troy snorted. “That sounded about as convincing as the time you told Mom and Dad that you had absolutely no idea how a huge dent magically appeared in the driver’s side door of the car overnight.”
Donovan looked up and into Troy’s face for the first time then, smiling wryly. “Yeah, I guess I’ve never been a very good liar, huh?”
“Pitiful. Which is why this whole security clearance thing has been kind of crazy from the start. If the investigators knew you as well as I do, they’d realize that not only do you not have anything to hide, you’re actually physically incapable of it.”
“I think you might be wrong about that. I hid the whole drunken Vegas wedding thing pretty well all these years.”
“Nah. That was just a random, unimportant incident. You never lied about it. You just didn’t tell anybody because it didn’t mean anything. The big truth—the part where you have feelings for Ella—that’s the part you’d have a hard time lying about. So, don’t even bother at this point.”
Since he wasn’t allowed to lie about it, Donovan just sat there without saying anything. He didn’t know what he would’ve said, anyway. His feelings for Ella were so big, and so complicated, and so disruptive to his life…what the hell was he supposed to say about that?
After a moment of silence between them, Troy continued, “And then there’s the part about how you’re excited to get your security clearance issue worked out, return to Washington, and get back to work. That’s something you’ve been lying about with decreasing levels of convincing-ness as this week has worn on. At this point, we’d all have to be brain dead to buy it.”
Again, Donovan wasn’t sure what to say, so he didn’t say anything at all.
“So, tell me this. And, remember, there’s no point in lying about it. What exactly are you planning on doing when you get the call that says you have the all clear?”
“I’m going to…” Donovan trailed off. He’d been planning on saying that he’d jump on a plane and get back to his hard-earned and very important job. After all, wasn’t that what he was supposed to do? Wasn’t that the obvious plan? But, as he’d started to form the words, they died in his throat. The truth was, nothing seemed obvious anymore. Every single fucking thing seemed up in the air.
Troy stood up and came around to his side of the table. He put a hand on Donovan’s shoulder briefly, and then headed toward the front door. “Come on,” he said with finality. “I know what you need to do.”
None of thesharp pain that Donovan had expected to flood through him as he finally stood in front of his parents’ graves materialized. He’d thought that it would be unbearable. That it would possibly even bring him to his knees.
After all, he hadn’t been here since the funeral. That was five long years of running away, of being eaten alive by guilt and burying his emotions in work. Of making a life out of protecting the most important person in the world because he’d been unable to protect the most important people in his world.
Now that he was finally facing it, all that pulsed inside him was a deep, pounding ache.
Troy put a heavy hand on his shoulder and Donovan shot him a grateful look. “Thanks for coming with me. This would’ve been really hard to do on my own.”
“Of course. I’m proud of you, D.”
“Thanks.” As Donovan thought about what to say next, he looked around at the sprawling expanse of gravestone markers, the pine trees dotting the perimeter, and the cloudy gray sky. It felt appropriately melancholy. “It’s different than I thought it would be. I was afraid I’d fall apart. That the pain would take me out. But that’s not what it feels like at all. The pain’s not as intense as I expected, but it’s deeper. Farther down, where I can’t reach it. And it’s heavy. So much heavier than I thought was possible.”
Troy smiled, but it wasn’t a happy thing. It was sadder than tears. “Yeah. I know exactly what you’re talking about, and you can expect that feeling to last for a long time. Maybe even forever. Time doesn’t heal all wounds, you know. It just sands off the sharpest edges.”
Donovan turned his eyes back to the simple engraved names and dates on his parents’ headstones. The block text was dignified, like they’d been. But it wasn’t warm, or loving, or funny, or colorful like they’d been. This headstone would never tell the story of who they were. It was up to the people who’d known them to keep their memory alive, and Donovan was through shirking that responsibility.
Tears filled his eyes, but even at such a solemn occasion as this one, he wouldn’t let them fall. That just wasn’t who he was.
