The Choices They Made
Chapter One
Heather saw standing in the shadows of a huge Imola tree across the street as she let her daughter, A.J., out the door to go to school. She watched A.J. for a moment as she ran to catch up with her friends. Her long, flaxen hair was worn in a braid. It swung as she hurried away. She waited for John to move, but he seemed frozen there, stunned as his eyes followed the young girl. She noticed the bandage on his head, and wondered what had happened. Sighing wearily, she went in but watched him from the window. She wondered if he knew A.J. was his. Was that why he was here? The girl did look like his mother.
She saw him start across the street. He was limping. Had he been in an accident? He paused in front of the house, but Heather opened the door and stood staring at him.
"Hello, John. I saw you standing across the street."
"Heather..." His word was more than just a name, it was memories of times shared, their moments of love in the darkness of the forest.
She flushed. "Would you like to come in?"
"May I?"
Heather nodded and stepped aside. Her home was like everyone’s else’s on that planet, it opened onto the kitchen. She was quiet, withdrawn. "Why are you limping?"
"The hydraulic system on my ship malfunctioned, and I crashed. I hurt my ankle." He entered and she closed the door. "I had to crawl under an overhang to get out of the sun. I had to drink water from my shoe." She made a face. "It tasted of my foot!" She chuckled. "I also knocked out my transponder." He touched the bandage over the right side of his head. She simply looked at the white splotch on his head. He said softly, "They told me I was lucky I didn’t die.
She asked, "I’m glad you’re all right. You could have been killed."
"That’s what they said."
"How long have you been back?"
"About an hour."
She caught sight of her face in the mirror. She was tired and it showed. Her face was pale. There were dark circles beneath her eyes. Heather was wearing long sleeves, pants. It was hot but she was covered up to hide her bruises. They were bad. She hated for anyone to see them.
"Is she my daughter?" His voice was quiet, unsure.
There was a moment’s hesitation, a fleeting look of pain that ran quickly over her face, then, "Yes."
"Why didn’t you tell me?" he asked, his own agony showing.
"You made your choice; I made mine." Heather’s tone was quiet. She thought of Signet, Section Twenty-Three, a special division with the Fleet. That section had claimed his attention so long ago. She knew that Signet was a group of people who were the peacemakers, those who kept the rules and regulations for the galaxy, rather like the marshals in the old west. It was considered an honor to work for them. He was an officer for them. He gathered information for them. Each bit was transmitted to Signet as he accumulated it, via the encephalon transponder buried on the left side of his brain, right above his ear. The problem was, he had chosen them over her. That still hurt.
"I have a right to know!" He dared her to argue but she did not; she simply looked at him. "I have a right to know her!"
"Yes, you do," she said sadly, her eyes moving towards the window, staring out. It was hard for her to keep that depression at bay. "She gets home from school at three. If you want to come back before then..." She stopped. She turned away from him, sat down.
"You won’t mind?"
"No." She quietly sighed. "Not at all. You come back right before three, okay?"
"Yes, Heather. Heather?" She turned her head slightly towards him. "I..." He hesitated and she waited. He swallowed thickly. "I appreciate this."
"I know." When she said nothing further, he left, closing the door behind him.
He was back at two-thirty. She let him in. "I have coffee made, if you want a cup?"
"I would, thank you." She went to range, picked up the pot, brought it back to the table. She poured him coffee in a cup that had been waiting for him. He added sugar but left it black otherwise. "Heather, does this bother you?"
She asked quietly, "You getting to know your daughter?"
"Yes."
"No. It’s the right thing. You’ll like her, John." Her face grew gentle, full of love as she thought of A.J. "She's a wonderful, caring person."
"What is A.J. stand for?"
"Alyce ... John..." She turned back to the range to restore the pot to its original location.
"You named her after my mother and me?"
She flushed and turned her head. "Yes. I liked your mother and I..." She swallowed.
"You loved me."
Sighing, she agreed, "Very much, but you knew that."
"Do you still..." He stopped, unable to go on.
"No, John. That was part of yesterday."
"Aren’t you going to have one?" he asked and then took a sip. "It’s good. You always did make good coffee."
"Thank you. It’s too late in the afternoon, John. I won’t sleep tonight." She did pivot then, sat down on the opposite side of the table. He nodded and sat quietly, sipping his hot liquid.
"Do you remember the first time I met you?" She nodded. "We were both two."
"You talked with a lisp."
"I thought you were beautiful."
"You hit me with the ball." Her eyes sparkled.
"I didn’t mean to. When you cried, I was horrified. I had hurt you!"
"It didn’t really hurt, but you did scare me."
"I’m sorry." She nodded. He took another sip. She could see the play of emotions over his face. "Do you remember that day when Mrs. Griffith was going to keep you after school?"
"When I was twelve."
"Yeah."
"You threw a paper ball at me. You’re always hitting me with balls, John Grant."
He argued, "You stuck your tongue out at me!"
Heather chuckled. "The teacher told you her school room wasn’t a baseball field."
"She gave me detention. She was going to give it to you, too."
Heather nodded. "You told her it wasn’t my fault, and she kept you after by yourself."
"Mom smacked me when I got home."
Heather smiled. "I always liked your mother."
"Thanks a lot."
"You know what I mean."
He nodded. "I do. She liked you."
They stared at each other. Heather flushed. Memory came to them both then, of that day they broke up.
(** Two months after that special night on the hill, Heather realized she was pregnant. Excited, she hurried to John who was waiting in the meadow, but it turned out that he had a surprise of his own. "Heather! I joined Signet!"
She halted, cold inside. Her heart began to beat erratically. "Why?"
"It’s a great opportunity. I’ll be able to travel all over the galaxy!"
"But, you’ll have that...thing...in your head."
"It’s called a encephalon transponder."
"I know what’s it called," she said, trying to hide her dismay. "You won’t be able to remove it, Johnny! It’s permanent."
"I know."
"They’ll know what you’re thinking all the time."
"Yeah." He saw her face. He grew puzzled. "So?"
"They’ll know what you’re looking at, what you’re hearing..."
"Not all the time!"
She blushed. "Yes, they will. They’ll know when we’re making love."
"No, they said they have a privacy transmit code. All I have to do is call it up."
"And you trust them?" He didn’t understand, God help her; he didn’t understand.
"Sure." His concern showed in his words, in the hand that reached out towards her to grasp her arm. "What’s wrong, Heather?"
The young woman pulled away. "I don’t want...I can’t... John, I don’t want them knowing when we make love."
"Don’t be silly, they won’t. I just told you."
"You call up that code and they’ll know!"
He took hold of her arms. "Heather..."
She pulled away from them once again. "Making love should be private."
"It will be."
"No, It won’t, not when you tell them that's what you're going to do!" She turned from him but he grabbed her arm.
"Heather, please."
"John, let me go. Please! I need to think about this." Her voice choked on her emotions. **)
"You were pregnant then, weren’t you?"
"Yes."
"That’s why you came to me with so much excitement on your face, in your voice?"
"Yes, but you were so full of THEM, it threw me for a loop. I couldn’t tell you."
"I wish things had been different," he murmured.
She shrugged. "Life isn’t fair."
"No, sometimes it isn’t. I came back and looked for you, and you were gone. Your mother wouldn’t tell me anything, and no one else knew where you were."
"Mother sent me away."
"Why?"
"She was ashamed of me, of my pregnancy."
"God, Heather, I’m sorry." She only shrugged again.
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