Miami, December 1969
Jamie stood up and announced, “I need to go. You both stay here tonight. James, don’t forget the paperwork tomorrow regarding Sterling and other matters. Come by after work, pick up your clothes, and say goodbye to me.” She stood motionless, tears coming freely now. Jamie ran to me and hugged tightly. I hugged her back.
“Damn you, James! Why weren’t you another asshole? I’m going to miss you so badly. You son of a bitch! You walked out of a prison and into my life, and now you’re leaving me. Who will I talk to? They don’t make men like you.” Jamie turned to Karen immediately.
“Karen, I’m so sorry. I have no right to say these things in front of you.”
“Everybody, please sit,” said Karen.
“Jake tells me everything, including the initial sexual interest in him and the massage incident.” Jamie sat, eyes wide, frozen in place as Karen continued. “But an important change in your relationship with Jake occurred when you apologized for the seduction attempt. To me the apology was a broader statement, saying, ‘I now view you as my partner, friend, and even a confidant.’ Jamie, I deeply appreciate the candor and willingness to confide in me after Jake was tortured, despite the profound career risk it entailed. Most importantly, you learned how to honor our marriage as well as respect and love Jake in a different way – something that has eluded you in prior relationships with male friends. Both of you share a much deeper friendship than you have realized. The demands of your work, combined with the realization it must end at some point, pulled you together and pushed you apart simultaneously. In many respects, it was an affair without sex. I suppose this should threaten me more than an episode of casual sex.
“With time on my hands, I thought about this situation quite a bit, especially after Jake’s rescue from Colombia. An interesting article I discovered during my research is titled: Urban and Undercover Police Work: Marriage Killers. The short version is that policemen are afraid to confide in their wives about their fears and emotions. More than a handful are even incapable of accepting and owning their own feelings; they are a lost cause, usually to alcohol. For those who approach their wives, many are rebuffed because this is such an alien world to the wife or, perhaps, she cannot accept such raw feelings from her macho husband. Either way, a communication barrier is erected that becomes self-reinforcing, and the marriage ultimately fails. Jake’s love for me is different from the love he has for you, Jamie. I like you; and you could teach me, as a woman, a few of the skills and realities necessary to help preserve our marriage in the future, if you are willing.”
“Yes, Karen. But I don’t know what I know.”
“More than you can imagine. I come from privilege. The worlds you two inhabit on a daily basis are alien to me.
“Jamie, I also want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for the care you gave Jake after he was tortured. You tended his physical wounds; you slept beside him at night to calm him when the nightmares came; you bathed and cared for him; most of all you were a rock for him during such a critical time. Your support was vital in helping Jake overcome his violent treatment and not succumb to it. I may have been too emotional to do such a great job.”
“You give me undue credit, Karen, but thank you for your kindness.”
“Finally, my feelings are conflicted about an abrupt separation of you two. Having lost friends who moved because of work, I often wish a few of them were close. Letters are not the same as dinner. What if the FBI transferred you to Washington? Your friendship continues, and you help me understand your world. All three of us win. Besides, Jake would be morose and a pain in my ass without you. After such a successful operation, the transfer might be justified as an award.”
“I’d like that,” answered a stunned Jamie.
“If the front door approach doesn’t work, then talk to me. Getting things done in Washington often depends on connections.”
She paused, clasped her hands, and looked up toward the ceiling. “Mother will kill me. First, I marry a cop, and later bring his Miami wife to Washington.” The wisecrack brought restrained chuckles.
Jamie and I were both in shock after the conversation with Karen. I discovered new respect for Karen’s intellect and shrewdness.
Jamie gave Karen a hug and, releasing her, said, “You are an amazing woman. I am not sure who will be the teacher, and who will be the student. Goodnight.”
“Where’s my forehead kiss?”
“Coming up. Such a pain in my ass!”
After Jamie left, I turned to Karen and said, “Let’s sit and talk for a few minutes on the bench outside.”
We walked out holding hands and sat down, Karen looking at me expectantly.
“Although I love Jamie’s company, I can foresee problems if Jamie comes to Washington. You are my only wife, and this decision may create a rift between your mother and both of us. Three is an awkward and somewhat unstable relationship, with one person on the outside. In this situation, Jamie will feel excluded. She can’t live with us; she will be one more agent assigned to the Washington field office or headquarters and living by herself. Despite the pain from losing a dear friend, I’m not sure this is a good plan.”
“The beauty of love,” began Karen, “lies in its ability to flourish on many levels at the same time. It is not a one-dimen-sional emotion. We love flowers, parents, spouses, children, pets, and friends all at the same time, but in different ways. Your affection for Jamie got off on the wrong foot. Both of you were undercover, living together, and emotionally needy. Mutual physical attraction was a natural first step, which would have caused significant damage to our marriage if you had not recognized and corrected the problem. In the beginning, drifting was easier than painting a brighter line for Jamie. Perhaps, with the challenging work problems demanding your time and attention, you did not want to quarrel with your housemate, someone you cared about and depend upon. Jamie deserves a lot of credit for her unsolicited acknowledgement about how toxic further seduction attempts would have been for all of us. The point is both of you worked it out and were rewarded with a deep and unusual friendship. In fact, it is an ongoing and mutual gift of love between you. Our marriage is a mutual gift of love of a different type.
“I don’t take this step of supporting your friendship with Jamie reluctantly. You two are exploring new ground together. I am a bit envious of the experience, never having had the opportunity. But envy of an experience and jealousy are not the same. I’m proud of what you accomplished, and the time away from you has strengthened my love for you. By the way, I will take care of Mother. Jamie doesn’t know it yet, but she is going to help me do that.”
I looked deeply into her beautiful green eyes. “I’m so lucky to have you, and I’m a little lost for words.”
“Well,” she said, “you can begin by giving me a nice kiss, and think of something to say later.”
The first kisses began tentatively, but rapidly grew longer and lustier. We raced each other back to a former safe house. Clothes began flying off as soon as the door was closed.
“Where’s the bedroom?” I asked. We laughed and ran naked through the house until we found one. Karen was in my arms again. Yes, this was a different love.