On Wings Of Eagles (1990)

'It's nothing to worry about,' Jim said. 'In fact, it's good. The old jail was in the south of the city, where the fighting is. This one is further north, and more secure--they'll be safer there.'

Emily lost her cool. 'But, Jim,' she yelled, 'you've been telling me for three weeks that they're perfectly safe in jail. Now you say they've been moved to a new jail and now they'll be safe!'

'Emily--'

'Come on, please don't lie to me!'

'Emily--'

'Just tell it like it is and be upfront, okay?'

'Emily, I don't think they have been in danger up till now, but the Iranians are taking a sensible precaution, okay?'

Emily felt ashamed of herself for getting mad at him. 'I'm sorry, Jim.'

'That's all right.'

They talked a little longer, then Emily hung up and went back to her needlepoint. I'm losing my grip, she thought. I'm going around in a trance, taking the kids to school, talking to Dallas, going to bed at night and getting up in the morning ...

Visiting her sister Vickie for a few days had been a good idea, but she didn't really need a change of scene-- what she needed was Bill.

It was hard to keep on hoping. She began to think about how life might be without Bill. She had an aunt who worked at Woody's Department Store in Washington: maybe she could get a job there. Or she could talk to her father about getting secretarial work. She wondered whether she would ever fall in love with anyone else, if Bill should die in Tehran. She thought not.

She remembered when they were first married. Bill had been at college, and they were short of money; but they had gone ahead and done it because they could not bear to be apart any longer. Later, as Bill's career began to take off, they prospered, and gradually bought better cars, bigger houses, more expensive clothes ... more things. How worthless those things were, she thought now; how little it mattered whether she was rich or poor. Bill was what she wanted, and he was all she needed. He would always be enough for her, enough to make her happy.

If he ever came back.

Karen Chiapparone said: 'Mommy, why doesn't Daddy call? He always calls when he's away.'

'He called today,' Ruthie lied. 'He's fine.'

'Why did he call when I was at school? I'd like to talk to him.'

'Honey, it's so difficult to get through from Tehran--the lines are so busy. He just has to call when he can.'

'Oh.'

Karen wandered off to watch TV, and Ruthie sat down. It was getting dark outside. She was finding it increasingly difficult to lie to everyone about Paul.

That was why she had left Chicago and come to Dallas. Living with her parents and keeping the secret from them had become impossible. Mom would say: 'Why do Ross and the fellows from EDS keep calling you?'

'They just want to make sure we're okay, you know,' Ruthie would say with a forced smile.

'That is so nice of Ross to call.'

Here in Dallas she could at least talk openly to other EDS people. Moreover, now that the Iran business was certain to be closed down, Paul would be based at EDS headquarters, at least for a while, so Dallas would be their home; and Karen and Ann Marie had to go to school.

They were all living with Jim and Cathy Nyfeler. Cathy was especially sympathetic, for her husband had been on the original list of four men whose passports Dadgar had asked for: if Jim had happened to be in Iran at the time, he would now be in jail with Paul and Bill. Stay with us, Cathy had said; it will only be for maybe a week; then Paul will be back. That had been at the beginning of January. Since then Ruthie had proposed getting an apartment of her own, but Cathy would not hear of it.

Right now Cathy was at the hairdresser's, the children were watching TV in another room, and Jim was not yet home from work, so Ruthie was alone with her thoughts.

With Cathy's help she was keeping busy and putting on a brave face. She had enrolled Karen in school and found a kindergarten for Ann Marie. She went out to lunch with Cathy and some of the other EDS wives--Mary Boulware, Liz Coburn, Mary Sculley, Marva Davis, and Toni Dvoranchik. She wrote bright, optimistic letters to Paul, and listened to his bright, optimistic replies read over the phone from Tehran. She shopped and went to dinner parties.

She had killed a lot of time house-hunting. She did not know Dallas well, but she remembered Paul saying that Central Expressway was a nightmare, so she looked for houses well away from it. She had found one she liked and decided to buy it, so there would be a real home for Paul to come back to, but there were legal problems because he was not here to sign the papers: Tom Walter was trying to sort that out.

Ruthie was making it look good, but inside she was dying.

She rarely slept more than an hour at night. She kept waking up wondering whether she would ever see Paul again. She tried to think about what she would do if he did not come back. She supposed she would return to Chicago and stay with Mom and Dad for a while, but she would not want to live with them permanently. No doubt she could get some kind of a job ... But it was not the practical business of living without a man and taking care of herself that bothered her: it was the idea of being without Paul, forever. She could not imagine what life would be like if he were not there. What would she do, what would she care about, what would she want, what could possibly make her happy? She was completely dependent on him, she realized. She could not live without him.

She heard a car outside. That would be Jim, home from work: perhaps he would have some news.

A moment later he came in. 'Hi, Ruthie. Cathy not home?'

'She's at the hairdresser's. What happened today?'

'Well ...'

She knew from his expression that he had nothing good to tell her and he was trying to find an encouraging way of saying so.

'Well, they had a meeting scheduled to talk about the bail, but the Iranians didn't turn up. Tomorrow--'

'But why?' Ruthie fought to keep calm. 'Why don't they turn up when they arrange these meetings?'

'You know, sometimes they're called out on strike, and sometimes people just can't move around the city because of ... because of the demonstrations, and so on ...'

She seemed to have been hearing reports like this for weeks. There were always delays, postponements, frustrations. 'But, Jim,' she began; then the tears started and she could not stop them. 'Jim ...' Her throat tightened up until she could not speak. She thought: All I want is my husband! Jim stood there looking helpless and embarrassed. All the misery she had kept locked up for so long suddenly flooded out, and she could not control herself any longer. She burst into tears and ran from the room. She rushed to her bedroom, threw herself on the bed, and lay there sobbing her heart out.

Liz Coburn sipped her drink. Across the table were Pat Sculley's wife, Mary, and another EDS wife who had been evacuated from Tehran, Toni Dvoranchik. The three women were at Recipes, a restaurant on Greenville Avenue, Dallas. They were drinking strawberry Daiquiris.

Toni Dvoranchik's husband was here in Dallas. Liz knew that Pat Sculley had disappeared, like Jay, in the direction of Europe. Now Mary Sculley was talking as if Pat had gone not just to Europe but to Iran.

'Is Pat in Tehran?' Liz asked.

'They're all in Tehran, I guess,' Mary said.

Liz was horrified. 'Jay in Tehran ...' She wanted to cry. Jay had told her he was in Paris. Why couldn't he tell the truth? Pat Sculley had told Mary the truth. But Jay was different. Some men would play poker for a few hours, but Jay had to play all night and all the next day. Other men would play nine or eighteen holes of golf: Jay would play thirty-six. Lots of men had demanding jobs, but Jay had to work for EDS. Even in the army, when the two of them had been not much more than kids, Jay had to volunteer for one of the most dangerous assignments, helicopter pilot. Now he had gone to Tehran in the middle of a revolution. Same old thing, she thought: he's gone