She sat down next to me. “I’m sorry about how I behaved earlier,” she told me quietly. “I wasn’t being fair to you.”
“It’s all right, don’t worry about it,” I told her.
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
I reached out and patted her hand. “You didn’t do anything. It’s all right. I simply surprised you. I’m sorry about that.”
“I guess I never thought about things before.”
I nodded. “I know. Marilyn, your problem is that you think I’m a better guy than I really am. I work hard at being the kind of man you think I am, but sometimes I slip up. All I could think about when I was in Honduras was how much I wanted to come back to you and see Charlie. I’m sorry when I don’t live up to your expectations.”
Marilyn started sobbing and lay down in my arms on the chaise lounge. I wrapped my hands around her back and held her. She just cried and repeated over and over, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Eventually she stopped and pushed herself upright. “I think I understand better now. You really are better than you think you are, but you’re also a lot tougher and harder than I thought you were. You’re strong, but you’re ruthless. Does that make sense?”
I shrugged and made a half smile. “Yes.”
“How did that happen? What made you so strong but so hard?”
I sighed. “I don’t know, hun. Hell, look at my family. The only way I could get out of there with my sanity was by being strong and hard and tough, and yes, even a little ruthless. I’m sorry I’m not the guy you want me to be. What happens to us now?”
“What do you mean?”
I felt a chill as I said the next words. “Do you still want me? Is there still an us?”
Marilyn’s jaw dropped when she heard those words. “WHAT?! Carling! No! It’s not like that at all! I think I love you more than ever now. I just never thought about it before, not like this.”
I sighed and smiled. “You had me worried there.”
“Sorry about that. No, you be tough and I’ll be soft and somehow we’ll meet in the middle. How about that?”
“That sounds fine by me,” I answered.
“Come to bed, Carl. You’re my hero, so let me give you a hero’s thanks.”
I smiled at that. “I think I like that idea. You know, as the rescued fair maiden, you are going to have to really, really work at thanking me. Us heroes kind of expect it!”
Marilyn stood up and I climbed to my feet after her. “Don’t push it. You weren’t that much of a hero!” she laughed.
“And you’re not a maiden, either.”
“And whose fault was that?” She took my hand and led me inside.
We were late getting up the next morning. In fact, I completely skipped out my morning exercise routine, sort of. I was actually getting a totally different sort of exercise, and getting sweaty doing it. Marilyn was working out with me, and she got sweaty as well. It must have been very aerobic, too, since we both were panting at the end of the routine.
A clatter in the living room roused us. Marilyn swung her head around afterwards, from where she was laying on top of me, and said, “Mrs. Wilkes must be cleaning up from the weekend.”
“Yeah, you were pretty sloppy,” I replied with a straight face.
That earned me a shot to the ribs. “You can be eliminated!” She rolled off of me and climbed to her feet. “Well, somebody needs to take a shower, and I think you are too lazy to move.”
I sniffed the air theatrically, and said, “You’re right somebody does need to take a shower. Off you go.”
“I was going to invite you to wash my back, but just for that, you can stay in bed!”
I looked down my torso and saw that Carl Junior needed the rest. “I’ll just take a nap. Somebody kept me up all night long.”
Marilyn gave me a harrumph and went off to the bathroom. I put my hands behind my head and smiled. I actually did doze off for a few minutes, but woke up when my wife tossed a wet washcloth at me. I rolled out of bed and smacked her on the ass as we passed each other, her leaving the bathroom and me entering.
Fifteen minutes later, I was showered and shaved, and dressed in shorts and a polo shirt. I also had forgotten about my new stitches, and I ripped the wet bandage off and tossed it in the garbage. The line of stitches on my arm looked red and angry, but was relatively pain free. Maybe Mrs. Wilkes could scrounge up a bandage for it. No swimming for me the rest of the trip, though.
I looked at myself in the mirror, studying my nose. Most people never noticed that it was broken all those years ago. Maybe they thought it was supposed to be kind of bent down and a little spread out. One thing I could certainly say, my body really showed the beatings I had taken over the years. I scarred easy. Now my arm was just one more addition to the zipper factory.
Another reminder was my right knee. It had improved enough so that while I walked with a slight limp, it wasn’t hard to push it too hard, and then it hurt like the dickens and I needed the cane. Since the fight the other night, it was hurting me. I had skipped on the cane when we went out for pizza the other night, but I needed it now. I grabbed it and went out to the living room.
I hobbled over to the dining room table, where Marilyn was sitting and drinking some coffee while reading the newspaper. That was unusual in itself; my wife rarely reads the newspaper. She looked up at me and grinned at me. “Morning!”
“You really don’t have to worry about me getting in fights, hun. The way I’m going, the next time I decide to get into a fight, you’re going to have to push me into it with a wheelchair.”
She laughed and pushed the newspaper over to me. “The middle of the back section, over a wrinkle cream ad, huh?”
“What are you talking about?” I looked at the paper where she was tapping it with a finger. “Oh, shit!” There, just below the fold, on the front page of the Nassau Guardian, was a picture of me, flanked by Marilyn and Assistant Superintendant Javier, under a headline, ‘Tourist Captures Killer Gang!’ I looked up at Marilyn and said, “You have got to be kidding me!”
“Read it!” she laughed. “Why, if I wasn’t already married, I’d want to marry a guy who was that heroic!”
I flipped my wife the bird, which just made her laugh harder. Then I read the story. Leaving aside the parts about the amazing tourist who caught the robbers, it was pretty obvious that Assistant Superintendant Javier hadn’t spent Sunday lazing on his porch. In fact, reading between the lines, it sounded like he had gotten at least one of the gang to roll over on the others. In addition to a whole mess of robbery charges related to the pickpocketing and purse stealing, murder charges had been levied against them, related to the death of the German tourist Javier had told us about.
Mrs. Wilkes bustled in from the kitchen with some juice and fruit salad for me. She saw me reading the newspaper and asked, “Dat be you?”
I looked up at her and grinned. “It wasn’t that big a deal, Mrs. Wilkes.”
She just shook her head and cried out, “You be crazy, mon!”
I put my head back and laughed loudly at that. Marilyn smiled over at me, and then said, “I’ve been saying that for years, Mrs. Wilkes.” I just laughed some more. I waved them off and the two women chatted a bit about the night in the bar. After a bit, Marilyn and Mrs. Wilkes scrounged up a bandage and covered up the stitches for me.
The real surprise came about an hour later. There was a knock on the front door, and while Marilyn and I looked at each other curiously, from where we were sitting in the living room, Mrs. Wilkes hustled out of the kitchen and opened it. There were some subdued words said, and then Mr. Finch came in. I promptly climbed to my feet in greeting.