Streams of Consciousness ....
For the first time in days, he’s able to descend into the basement. He’s rested enough, despite the never ending fight with Jenny, to actually focus on the projects at hand. The toys won’t carve themselves.
The single bulb casts a shadow around the room and he flips on another couple of small lights that focus their energy onto the table so he can work. There are small stacks of lumber, different sizes, all to be turned into toys for kids who don’t have much of anything at the holidays. His gut clenches at the thought of Kelly or James in the hospital over Christmas. What would he have done? What would he do?
He settles at the table and picks up a piece of wood. Cars are easy and a good place to start to get his mind focused on the work. The good thing about woodworking is that he’s able to fall into the work, to let his mind focus on the tangible while the completely misunderstood can rattle around his unconscious mind. He’s solved cases like this. He’s come to realizations like this. He’s changed his life like this. But right now, he just wants to focus on the wood. If he lets his mind wander too much, the walls will come crashing down and the last time the walls came crashing down, he flew to California, put his heart on the line, and was crushed so deeply that he couldn’t even say goodbye to her.
Words Jenny flung at him dance in the back of his mind, taunting him. Maybe she’s right. Maybe a hidden relationship isn’t one meant to be, but there are so many logical arguments against that idea he doesn’t even know where to start. Maybe she’s right. Maybe he’s running from his feelings for her, but he knows he’s not. He wishes he was. It would make all of this so much easier. But what he said rings true. Sometimes relationships exceed definitions. Sometimes there isn’t any reason for what they are and what they aren’t other than that they work.
When did he become the flaming romantic? He knows the answer to that statement, knows exactly when he became someone who thought about love and romance over everything else. It was when he sat down at a train stop and looked into the eyes of the first woman he married.
The wood in his hand is turning into the body of a car.
Heather understood then and he knows she does now. They are just lost; tried to do too much in too short a time. Four years of separation led to impatience and blindness on both their parts. His own panic over Jenny’s health led to impulsive decisions, even if he knew they were the right ones.
He turns the car over, sanding the edge. When he’d been chasing John Briggs, Heather had been there, a silent sentinel in his darkest moments. She’d found ways to stay with him, keeping him from falling completely over the edge. How often had she shown up and just sat on the bottom step, watching him, making sure he didn’t fall completely apart. How often had she taken his hand and led him to bed, never once needing to say a word, letting him bury his needs and desires and worries deep inside of her. She’d always known when to speak and when to sit, watching, letting him be. She’d known he was terrified she would somehow be caught by him and he’d been so glad that when Briggs’ number came up, she’d been in California. The very idea that his accomplice might have gone after her still made his stomach churn.
The Briggs case had changed him. It was then he’d started to wonder if Heather shouldn’t stay with Charles because it was safer. But Heather had been able to be there, to stick with him through the mental breakdown that was the hardest case in his life. Even his wife had walked out.
"I can’t take this," his wife had snapped at him, walking out the door. It had been Heather who walked back in, sat on the step, and let him stare into space while he tried to solve the unsolvable. It wasn’t just that she let him have his demons, she comforted them. She understood the difference between avoiding and stoic silence. She understood that he couldn’t help but bring his cases home.
The car takes a stronger shape in his hand.
Maybe Jenny was right. Maybe he should have let her in more. Maybe he should have opened up in ways he never did. But theirs was a different relationship and he was willing to let it be different. In his own arrogance and stupidity, he never believed it would all crash together. He knew, even back then, that they would not last. He wanted it for what it was. Their conversation from the other day rattles - Would she really have been willing to risk marriage knowing they’d end up divorced? Was that something she wanted? But hindsight was always perfect. Almost always.
He is sorry her heart was broken, but he wasn’t completely to blame and he is tired of shouldering the weight of it all. But taking responsibility for her personal actions had never been her strong suit. It was part of what made her such a damned good director. Blame had to be pushed aside to get stuff done.
Usually, focusing on the wood sets his unconscious mind flowing. Tonight, the wood is the unconscious mind and the part of him that is all too aware of how things are crashing down around him is cycling, analyzing, rationalizing, and explaining.
He wonders if Jenny realizes he never meant to hurt her. He wonders if she actually understands that. "Never meants" are what ends marriages, he knows this all too well. But if he’s learned anything from the last few weeks, it’s that eventually he and Heather were going to have to make a decision - whether or not Jenny was sick. It had been time and the mess that is the fallout they’d have had to deal with no matter what. If Jenny wasn’t sick, would he still be en route to Paris?
The answer, he is sure, is yes.
Anger cycles through to sadness again. Heather isn’t the only one who had to make a decision and he’s too busy playing both sides because he wants his work life to be easier. He meant what he said the other day, that he’d give it all up to spend time with his son. Maybe taking a transfer to San Diego would be worth it. The LA team needs some leadership. Maybe he’s the one trying to have too much. He asked Heather to give up everything, but gave her nothing in return. Maybe he needs to meet her halfway. He could sell the house, even in this market. Maybe to really move forward, they need to start over. If she leaves Charles, he knows the custody battle will destroy the kids and if he’s serious about making sure his son is safe and protected, he needs to put his weight behind the gesture. Instead of a basement, he can have a garage and the warmer weather will be good for his knees. If Heather wants to stay in California, he'll move to stay with her.
His hands still on the wood and he looks down at the nearly finished body of the car. He needs to cut the windows and sand them down. The wheels still need to be added.
If Heather means it, if she’s really leaving Charles, he’ll meet her halfway. Tony is ready for this team. He’s ready to come home at night to a family. He’s ready to start planning for his retirement. Being the senior agent at the Naval Yard has its perks, but he’s not aiming for any higher position. Being a senior agent in California will be worth it.
And if Heather doesn’t want him, it’s only three more years and he’ll retire to a beach in Mexico and forget all about the Shepard women.
Yeah. Right.
He stands, his back creaking, and grabs the tool to cut the windows on the car, his mind now focused on the work before him. No matter what happens, he has a plan.