Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
W illow sat in the prow of the local boat they’d rented earlier to ply the smooth, glassy waters of Lake Tana on a cool November morning. It was their second day off from the brutal construction schedule. She’d met Shep at seven a.m. and they’d driven down to the dock area on the southern part of the massive lake Bahir Dar sat on. She had a favorite fisherman and always rented one of his smaller fishing boats. Up until now, it would always have been her and Dev out paddling around the shoreline. This time, it was her and Shep and she allowed her feelings for him to surface and remain with her.
Everything was quiet apart from the cries of the gulls and white pelicans that plied the rocky and sometimes muddy offshore of Tana. The air was cool, in the high fifties, and some fog had formed here and there, giving the lake a somewhat mystical appearance to Willow, the fog a veil symbolizing two different worlds or, perhaps, dimensions to her. She dipped her paddle in and watched the smooth surface break, ripples forming as she pushed it backward to propel the boat forward. The craft also had a small gas engine. But for today’s trip, she wanted the quiet of paddles dipping in and out of the smooth, glassy surface of the water, instead. The gas engine could be used later if they got tired of the physical toll of their excursion.
Above them, a blue heron flew over, heading near the shore. Willow enjoyed the flap of the large bird’s seven-foot wingspan. Turning, looking over her shoulder, she asked, “Beautiful heron, wasn’t it?” Shep was dressed in his khaki pants, wore a form-fitting dark-green t-shirt and his brown baseball cap with the Delos logo on it. She noticed he seemed happy this morning after their serious talk last night. Or maybe content was the word she was searching for? Secretly yearning for him, she watched one corner of his mouth draw upward a bit in a quirky half-grin.
“Yeah, big bird. Long wingspan.”
“I wonder,” she said, “if I see the beauty and color of the bird and you see the mechanics of it only? Our minds, which see things on a very different level to one another, at work?”
Shep dug his paddle into the wake of the boat and, using it as a rudder, twisted its shaft to keep their red and white, badly-paint-chipped wooden boat on course parallel to the shoreline that crept by about two hundred feet away. “I did appreciate the mechanics of the bird in flight. You saw the color, grace and movement of it. Nothing wrong with how we see things, Willow.”
“No,” she conceded, “as you’ve said before, if there are ten people in the same room, there’s ten different realities.”
“Right, and if we had ten other people in this boat right now? Between us, we would have a dozen different ways of looking at that heron that just flew over us, too, I think. Also, the boat would sink.”
Willow smirked at his quip, saying, “I often wonder how anyone gets along in this world at all, what with those kinds of multiple realities… how we all see things differently?”
Chuckling, he said, “Welcome to my world. I manage people. I run into this conundrum all the time.”
Nodding, she said nothing, feeling the languor of happiness flowing through her as they rounded a small peninsular of the lake. “The place I want to take you is about a mile away. It’s a bird sanctuary of sorts. Beyond it, about a mile further, is a family of hippos, and we do not want to go anywhere near them or their territory.”
He frowned. “I know absolutely nothing about them.”
“I’ve had a year to get to know them enough to learn that you don’t want to encroach upon their territory because they can charge and kill you. They seem very docile and gentle, but if they feel threatened, they will attack first, and we wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“I didn’t know that about them,” he said, frowning, looking at the crescent-like curve of the shoreline coming up. “How about we stick to the birds today?”
“Anything with wings is okay with me this morning.” Willow replied.
“I’m surprised you haven’t taken any photos yet.” She had a strap around her neck, the Canon camera it was attached to cradled in her lap. There was a waterproof plastic sack she’d put around the camera in case they tipped over and went in the drink. Willow had learned through rough experience to keep her camera protected with the strap around her neck, and the waterproof bag around it. So that, just in case it ever fell into the water, it wouldn’t sink to the bottom of the lake and be lost forever.
“I’ll wait until we get to our birding area,” she said. The odor of the lake near the docks was of rotted fish, which she hated. But out on the lake itself? It had a clean, moist smell and she dragged it deep into her lungs.
“Sounds good,” he said. “Have you noticed what’s going on between your friend Dev and Luke?”
Willow glanced over her shoulder. “I guess I’m not the only one who sees it?”
“Luke is footloose and fancy free. I was kind of surprised that he seemed really interested in Dev. Not that it’s bad or anything. I guess I just didn’t expect it, was all.”
“Well,” Willow said, “look at us. We met at Bagram Fixed Wing Ops by accident, and we were instantly drawn to one another. Why would it be any different for anyone else?”
“You have a point.”
Snorting, Willow said, “Yes, kinda.”
He laughed.
There were so many good things about Shep that she found herself wondering if maybe she’d stuck in the marriage, that perhaps they could have worked through its rougher patches and survived. Of late, that’s pretty much all that Willow ruminated on, as she was now as she lifted her paddle once more. Today, she wanted to spend quality focused time on Shep’s family. Intuitively, she felt that was a major key to him. Would he go along with it? Remain open to her inspection? Or, closed up like a clam, completely inaccessible? Never had Willow wanted anything more than to crack open more of his background and family situation, like cracking open a rotten clam shell and spilling out the bitter brine within.
“Well, what do you think, Willow? Are Dev and Luke in love?”
She smiled. “Love or lust? Both start with an ‘L’, Shep.” She heard him laugh and it had always lifted her mood in the past, as it did right now. A seagull drifted over their boat, looking down to see if they had any fish. They didn’t, so it flew on. To their right was a gaggle of about thirty white pelicans out feeding on the lake, getting their own fishy morning breakfast.
“I don’t know Luke that well, but he doesn’t seem like a bed-hopper to me. Nor does Dev. What do you think?”
“I think you’re right,” Willow said. She saw a fish leap out of the water no more than twenty feet from their boat. “Dev has, well, a tough family history, and she learned at a very early age to be scared and completely distrustful of men.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. She’s a really nice person, a hard worker, and she cares,” Shep replied.
“Yes, she’s loyal, and she’s a great worker bee. I can’t see myself with any other co-pilot while I’m here in Ethiopia, to tell you the truth. We get along really well together. I love her dry sense of humor. It gets very dark at times, but she was in the Air Force, just like me and piloted C-130 transports. You know how military people defer to black humor when things go wrong.”
“Do I ever. Saves the day every time. So? Has Dev said anything?”
“Nothing about Luke, no. We’ve been so busy this past month, Shep, that I honestly haven’t had time to even sit down and have a coffee or chat with Dev. Just work talk.”
“You could have today.”
She met his gaze. “I chose to be with you, instead.” She saw his expression go soft for a moment, knowing her words had truly touched his heart. “And I’m glad I did.”
“It’s nice to be at the top of your list.”
She heard the deeply veiled emotion in his voice, taking note of it for later. Pointing ahead, she said, “There’s our landing spot. See that beach that’s curved in an egg-shaped harbor?” Her stomach was tight with tension. She wasn’t sure where their conversation would range or what Shep’s reactions would be to her purposely trying to probe him more deeply on a personal level.
“Yeah, I see it.”
“I’m taking you to one of mine and Dev’s favorite spots. We do a lot of deep, serious talking there. It’s quiet, beautiful and the birds aren’t afraid to be around you. I think you’ll like it, Shep.” She knew he always loved being out in nature. That was one of many things they shared and enjoyed. Also, he loved architecture as well.
Shep maneuvered the boat into the oval cove. As they got closer, he could see several shorebirds with long legs and curved beaks dipping into the shallows for critters in the mud. They all flew away as the prow hit the beach.
Willow quickly hopped out; her feet bare as they sank up to their ankles in the black mud. She pulled the rope from the prow, leaping to the beach and turning, hauling the boat up further so it couldn’t drift away. She gestured for Shep to come ashore. She enjoyed his athletic build as he moved; how lean and tight he was, that t-shirt outlining his well-sprung chest and those broad shoulders of his. Once on shore, he took the line as well and they both hauled the boat halfway onto shore, guaranteeing it wouldn’t float away.
“Great,” she murmured, going back to the boat. In the front, she had packed a small ice cooler that held their food. Shep leaned over the opposite side, pulling both their backpacks out. Willow found a dry log further up the beach, brought her socks and boots with her, sat down on it and pulled them on. In minutes, they had made their way up a path that shaded them as they moved up the slight slope into the lush greenery. Willow had worn her khaki cargo pants and a pink sleeveless tee beneath her long-sleeved white cotton shirt. She could shed it when it got warmer or in a less shaded area.
Taking her knapsack, she shrugged it on. “There’s several hiking trails and this is a pretty popular spot. A lot of birders from all over the world come here and spend a day or more spotting and putting another bird or two on their lists.”
Turning, Shep saw a flock of pink flamingos landing further down the curved beach. “Those are beautiful,” he said, pointing.
“Yes, those are called Lesser Flamingos. See those bright-red feathers on their wings?”
Squinting from the distance, Shep nodded. “Yes. Red against the pink of their feathers.”
“The bigger flamingos don’t have those bright-red striped feathers. This bird is pretty rare around here. I was talking with the city biologist about it when she was out in this area, and she said that these beautiful birds are a threatened species here in Ethiopia. She said these birds winter over here at Lake Tana, so we’re lucky to see them at all.”
Impressed, he walked up to her, strapping on his knapsack. “I didn’t know you were so interested in birds.”
Her lips pulled away from her teeth. “Hey, it flies. Anything that flies gets my attention, Porter. Are you ready for a beautiful hike?”
“Yep, lead the way, Dr. Livingston,” and he shared a warm smile with her.
“There’s a gorgeous spot for lunch, but it’s about a mile one way. It’s worth it. Are you game?”
“Always,” he said, gesturing for her to take the lead on the narrow path.
Willow felt happiness flood her heart because, once more, they were in that cradle of good friendship, exploring and sharing the adventure they’d always had with one another. She saw it in the lighter color of Shep’s blue eyes and forced herself not to stare at that strong, male mouth of his. Memories of him loving her were just too overwhelming and luring her to a place she didn’t dare go.
Shep marveled at the beauty of Lake Tana. Willow was a fount of local information about it. Lake Tana was the largest body of water in Ethiopia and was forty-three feet deep at its deepest point. She went on to tell him that, in most places, it was only around eight feet deep. It was forty-two miles wide and forty-five miles long. On a map, it looked almost pear-shaped to him. As lakes went, he thought this was a very shallow one. Its great notoriety was that it was the source of the Blue Nile, which was the only water course flowing out of it. Fishing here was a huge industry that supplied fresh fish to the northern part of the country. The lake remained full due to the seven permanent rivers that fed it year-round, and forty other seasonal rivers added to its water volume. Around the lake, agriculture flourished. There were many fig orchards, which thrived in the heat and fertile soil. More than once, at certain stops along their trek where they could look down on the lake, he would see reed boats plied by local fisherman. Willow explained that Tana had extensive papyrus reed beds from which the ‘tankwa’ boats were made.
They walked up the large swell of the hill, ancient terraces built all around this side of it, its crest covered with a crown of verdant trees. His skin was damp already from the slight climb, the sun rising higher, drawing humidity from the lake below and sending it creeping up the slopes.
“These terraces,” she said, gesturing below them, “were created thousands of years ago by these people. At that time, the lake was much larger, and made terrace farming the way to go.”
Shep studied the yellowed winter grass. “From an engineering standpoint, they did a good job putting rocks on the edge of each terrace they built, holding in the soil and giving plants a place to take hold.”
Willow smiled and held his gaze. “Yes, I remember you telling me about the Incan terrace farming you saw in South America. I don’t know if you remember, but you sent me a photo of the terraces at Machu Picchu, that sacred place of the Incas near Cusco, down in Peru. You had taken a train from Cusco, you said, down through the jungle to where the huge Incan stronghold had been built. And I remember thinking you were more impressed with the terrace farming than the actual temples built on that site.”
“You’ve got a good memory,” he said. “After we broke up, I took the undercover job and went to work for Delos. They sent me to that area to put in wells for the Q’ero Indian villages. That was a long time ago.”
“Impressed with my memory, huh?” and she laughed, shaking her head.
“I am.”
She sobered and said, “Well, I have a confession to make, Shep. Every email you sent me and every photo; I’ve saved.” She searched his eyes, his skin gleaming with perspiration from their hard hike. There was surprise in his eyes and then, something else, hope maybe? Hope for what? Them? Willow couldn’t answer that question.
“Well, since it’s confession time? I have kept every one of your emails and photos, too.” Shep said back.
They stood looking at one another and Willow ached to walk that short distance and move into his arms. Melancholy swept through her over the choices they’d made earlier in life, both right and wrong. Opening her hands, she whispered, “I don’t know about us, Shep. In some ways, we seem to be on the same wavelength. In others, we act like aliens to one another, each speaking in a different language each other can’t understand or even grasp what the other is trying to say.”
He turned, tucking his thumbs beneath the straps of his knapsack, looking out over the calm, beautiful lake. “Yeah, that’s about the bottom line on us, isn’t it?” he said, and held her troubled green gaze.
She stubbed the toe of her boot into the ground, muttering, “Where we fit with one another, it was great.” She lifted her head. “And where we didn’t? All we did was argue, and scream and shout at one another.”
“I hear you,” he said, nodding. “I’m mostly at fault on that one. I didn’t exactly handle it well.”
Frustrated, Willow came and stood near him, close enough to feel the heat of his body. His profile was hard and she could feel him thinking. There was nothing weak about Shep. He was a warrior and a Type-A, driven to succeed, built for life’s challenges. So was she. Searching his damp face, seeing the burning look in his narrowed blue eyes as he looked back from the lake view and studied her, she reached out, entangling her fingers in his. Shep’s flesh was hardened, calloused and felt rough on hers.
She said, “I have another confession to make. I’ve been wanting to get somewhere quiet and uninterrupted so I could talk with you.” She felt his fingers curve gently around hers, saw the softening in his gaze, felt his yearning for her. Mouth dry, she pressed on, her heart beating harder, trying to steel herself against his reaction. “There’s a lot we need to catch up on with one another, Shep. And I don’t know if it’s something you’re really interested in doing. Are you?” and she tilted her head, digging into his gaze. His fingers tightened a little more around hers, as if to keep her from moving away.
“I don’t know where this is going with us, Willow,” he admitted hoarsely. “But since coming here? Seeing you in person? It sure as hell beats emails being passed from time to time between us.” One corner of his mouth lifted a little, not a smile, maybe a grimace. “Look, I know I was the reason you walked out. At the time? I didn’t understand what the hell was going wrong between us. It seemed the more I tried to explain it to you, to separate out the issues, the angrier and more frustrated you became.”
“I couldn’t reach you, Shep. You were listening with your head, not your heart. This goes back to me being emotional AND mental at the same time. You had somehow cut yourself off from your feelings, except when we had sex. I LIVE with my emotions 24/7/365. You don’t.”
Wincing, he hung his head for a moment, staring at his dampened boots. Dragging in a deep breath, he caught her gaze. “You were right. I couldn’t get it… not back then. But I’ve had plenty of time to stand back from our crisis and really examine it, take it apart and study it. You know: That self-aware thing you were hammering me with?”
Willow wanted to cry because, as he rasped those words, she saw the deep wounding he still carried secretly within him. At least now, she knew intuitively that those scars originated from his family. “Well, I’ve had a lot of time to reflect back on my antics in our marriage, too. I can’t say I’m very proud of how I conducted myself with you, Shep.” She released his hand and took a deep breath, as if she were about to step off the edge of a cliff of no return. “Is it possible to EVER discuss your past with me fully?” Your growing up years?”
Frowning, he haltingly managed, “After you left me, I went in search of the self-awareness you always told me about, and what that term meant to you. I scoured the internet, and I found a guy, a therapist, in Cusco, there in Peru. He… Renaldo ended up becoming a great friend, over time. We’d get together over pisco sours at a local bar and just talk. He never charged me, even though he’s a very popular psychiatrist in the region. He didn’t make it like I was going to a therapy session. We’d just talk. I told him about us, about my lacking or misunderstood communications between us.”
Relief poured through her as she listened to Shep. She saw how hesitant and unsure of himself he was with her on a personal level. That had never showed up in everyday professional-level situations while on this operation together. “Did he help you understand what I was trying to share with you?”
“Yes, it took about a year, and many pisco sours and talks at that bar, but I finally grasped it.”
“And how did you then look at our situation? Where we got crossways with one another, Shep?”
He opened his hands and closed them. “It all went back to me not opening up on an emotional level with you, Willow.” Shep frowned, started to look away but then held her upturned gaze instead. “I told him about my father’s divorce from my mother when I was thirteen. And, just like you had told me much earlier, he pinpointed that as one of the reasons I shut down and went into my head. I closed off my heart because it was just too painful to leave myself open.” Lifting his hand, he moved a few errant strands of red hair away from her temple, holding her teary gaze. “I never opened myself up to you. I did when we had sex, but then I’d shut back down, afterward.”
A shiver flowed through her, one of relief that he was finally allowing her into the rest of the dark, family secret of his. She’d been right all along. “And when we loved one another? It was beautiful, heart centered, Shep and we both knew it. We trusted one another at those times.”
She held his gaze and went on, “But you did close up afterward. I could feel it and I saw it. When we made love, it was communication through our bodies to one another and it was always wonderful. But as soon as we were done, usually an hour afterward, I could feel you emotionally retreating from me, closing back up, and then, as always, I felt abandoned by you. It was as if you took your love you had for me and locked it away again so I could no longer be fed by it as you fed me when we had sex.”
“I got it,” he mumbled, avoiding her gaze. “Renaldo laid it out to me in a way I could see and grasp.” Rasping wearily, he went on, “I really did destroy our marriage, Willow. I nearly destroyed you. I realize now you were fighting back, fighting to save both of us, but I just wasn’t there.”
A tremulous sigh tore from her lips. “I didn’t know WHAT had caused it. I was blaming myself, Shep; that I was somehow lacking in something, and it was my fault that you remained closed up, and I couldn’t reach you.”
“No, Angel, it was all on me,” he admitted, sliding his hands in a comforting motion across her tense shoulders. “I’ll gladly take the blame, Willow. I have no pride or ego in this. It hurt so damned much when you left me.”
She rested her hands against his biceps, studying his agonized expression. “I felt like I was in a battle every day with you and we were stalemated. I had to leave you Shep, because I felt like I was dying inside, dying emotionally. You weren’t feeding me like I was feeding you with my emotions. There was no sharing along that level between us. I had to leave. I didn’t want to, but I’d done the best I could, and it wasn’t enough.”
He held her, bringing his hand behind her head, her frizzy red hair tangling between his fingers as he rocked her slightly. “Just let me hold you? I need this Willow, so damn badly.” He rested his head against hers, closing his eyes, absorbing her strong, warm, feminine body against his.
Shep could barely remain still, hold himself in control, as Willow sank against him, entrusting herself fully to him. She smelled so damned good to him, that ginger scent in her hair, her special womanly fragrance that hardened him until it was painful. Willow would surely feel the bulge of his erection, their hips against each another as they were. Her breasts, so soft and full, made his palms ache to touch them. So many past love-making sessions had haunted his dreams ever since he’d gotten to Ethiopia. Being around Willow was like an addictive drug. He lived to see her, even if at a distance. They were so damned busy, the tempo of the construction so high, that sometimes, they shared only a glance. But it fed him, his heart, his still-wounded soul, and he ached on every level to reclaim her. But how? How could he do that? Shep knew he wasn’t the greatest at talking. Especially about things that he’d done wrong.
His therapist, Renaldo, had told him from the get-go to let his ego dissolve because it had no place in the mix when one person truly loved another. It wasn’t about being right or wrong. It was about being a team. And, as a team, you learned to put ego and pride aside because they could destroy any union over time.
He felt her relax utterly against him, her arms winding around his waist, pressing her cheek against his damp t-shirt below his shoulder, feeling her sigh what he hoped was her happiness at being in his embrace once more. He pressed a kiss to her hair, the strands tickling his face. “Willow? I’m scared to death, but I’m going to tell you what’s in my heart. I never did when we were married, but I’m trying to change that. I want, more than anything, to have a second chance with you. I want to court you. I want to hold you and listen to what’s in your mind and heart. I want to really listen and feel you emotionally this time, not just ignore all that like I did before. I want to try and share how I’m feeling with you, instead of shutting down and pushing you away from me.”
He felt her arms tighten around him for a moment, felt her tremble in his arms. It was driving him crazy what her answer might be. Pressing his lips against her temple, Shep rasped, “Tell me you want another chance like I want one with you? I know I don’t deserve it. I hurt you so damned badly and I’ll be forever sorry that I did. I want to make it up to you. This doesn’t have to be fast. I’ll take it at whatever pace you’re comfortable with, Willow. I know we can make this work. I feel it in my heart. I’ll try every damned hour to be a better man for you than I was before. Let me try… give me one more chance…”