“And she is pregnant?”
“That’s what it says.”
“It also says that she is being held against her will. Just what the hell does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does my father know?”
“Yes. I told him this morning.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me he was going to make some calls,” Marilyn answered. “But I got the feeling there was more to it.”
“So who is the girl?” Jake asked again.
“She works in a factory in Saipan that your father does business with.”
“A girlfriend?”
“Jake, your father doesn’t have girlfriends.”
“Is it his baby?”
Marilyn tried to answer, but the tears suddenly streaming down her cheeks magically prevented it. Jake waited. Women cry for different reasons, and Jake wasn’t in the mood to soothe anyone’s tears.
“Jake, I’m sure this Wei Ling girl is, shall we say, a romantic interest of your father. Not a girlfriend, mind you. More like a play toy.”
“And she is pregnant.”
“We don’t know,” Marilyn said almost incomprehensibly through a new round of tears.
“You seem to be taking this hard.”
“There is something you need to know, Jake. Something that may come as a surprise.”
With that simple sentence, all remaining hints of composure drained from Marilyn. She sobbed openly and every customer in the restaurant looked over.
Jake waited again. He was good at waiting. Almost as good as he was at measuring people. Whatever Marilyn was about to say, Jake knew it was going to be good.
It was a gross underestimation.
“I used to be one of your father’s girlfriends. I know from personal experience how this girl feels.”
“I’m sorry,” was all he could muster.
“No, Jake. I’m the one who is sorry.”
Marilyn then burst into a full-fledged fit of inconsolable hysteria, an outburst of emotions normally reserved for national catastrophes and the death of a boy’s first dog. Two customers raised their hands and asked the waiter for the bill. The waiter delivered the checks, picked up two cups of coffee, and brought them to Jake’s table.
“Is everything all right?” the waiter asked. Jake nodded and gave him a hushing gesture with his hands. “Please,” the waiter added, glancing around at the customers to indicate that the crying was ruining business.
Marilyn excused herself to go to the bathroom and the waiter came back with the order of waffles. Jake slapped some butter on the two-tiered stack and poured a healthy dose of syrup into the dimples. Marilyn returned, wiped her cheeks again with a wad of Kleenex, and took a sip of her coffee.
“I had an affair with your father, Jake. Twenty-five years ago.”
Jake quickly did the math in his head and a stern look washed over his face. The smile, the kind eyes, the cheerful personality were no longer part of his character.
“I’m listening.”
“I was young, your father was charming. We spent a lot of time together. One thing led to another.”
“Did my mother know?”
“She eventually found out, and then promptly threw your father out of the house. You were one, and just beginning to walk.”
“I always thought he left us.”
“Well he did, in a way. And it was my fault…” The tears were back with a vengeance and Jake just stared at her while she bawled. He eschewed all sympathy from his heart and pushed his warm, uneaten pile of waffles to the edge of the table.
Marilyn, speaking through huffs, continued. “There is something else. I became pregnant after you were born. At your father’s request, I had an abortion. I’ve regretted that decision every day since. Every day.”
Jake didn’t know what to say. She was now talking about herself, and Jake finally understood the reason for her tears. Marilyn was a victim. A victim of his father and a victim in her own mind.
“We need to do something.”
“Jake, let your father handle it.”
“What’s he going to do?”
“Handle it.”
“I want to contact the girl.”
“Forget it, Jake.”
“I can’t.”
“Jake, your father is someone who likes things his way. He will handle this, whether you want him to or not.”
“I’m going to see if there is something I can do.”
“Like what Jake? Get on a plane to Saipan? Your father is a big boy, with a lot of friends.”
“Marilyn, did you read this fax? This girl is begging for help. She has gone through extreme measures to get this to us. We can’t sit here and do nothing. And after what you have been through? Doing nothing is not a choice.”
“Jake, I can’t help you. Winthrop Enterprises is my life. I have equity in the company. It is the only thing I know. I am a forty-five-year-old executive assistant who has only had one employer.”
“Fine. Forget the girl then. I won’t. My father doesn’t scare me.”
“That is because you don’t know him.” Marilyn took another drink of her coffee and Jake gestured for the check. Silence filled the void as Jake threw a twenty on the table. “I may know someone who can help you,” Marilyn conceded quietly, staring out the window.
“Who?”
“His name is Al.”
“What does he do?”
“All I can say is that he may be able to help.”
“Give me his number.”
“I can’t. I’ll arrange for a meeting. That’s the best I can do.”
“Fine. The sooner the better.” ***
Jake headed back to Winthrop Enterprises with Marilyn in tow, three paces behind. They exited the elevator and casually strolled through the whispers and stares before Jake locked himself in his office. He swiveled the monitor on his computer slightly and tapped into the single greatest source of information in the internet age: Google.com. He typed in the search words “Saipan” and “police department,” moved his cursor to the SEARCH button and hit ENTER. After a few clicks of the mouse, he was staring at the Department of Public Safety for the Island of Saipan. He jotted down the phone number and clicked through some other pages from the search results.
Jake read about Saipan, supplemental information to a history lesson from Mr. Jennings in eighth grade. A tropical island paradise where the U.S. dollar was the official currency and the U.S. Postal Service delivered the mail. Who knew?
The call to Saipan’s Department of Public Safety’s switchboard went through without a hitch.
“Saipan Department of Public Safety. Is this an emergency?” the female voice asked in a slow voice.
“No, this is an inquiry.”
“I’m sorry, but no one is available at the moment to handle inquiries. I can patch you through to voice-mail if it is not an emergency. Someone will get back to you as soon as they can.”
“Please. Put me in touch with the man in charge,” Jake said with fake authority, not knowing the minute size of the Saipan police force.
As Jake waited to be connected, he found himself looking around the office nervously.
