Washington, D.C., December 1969
Karen pulled back the curtains of the master bedroom, and stood at the rear window overlooking the manicured lawn and garden. The leaden sky was producing a few harmless flakes of snow. She watched Jamie and Jake walking, talking, and occasionally gesturing. She was thinking: I’ve grown quite fond of Jamie. When I heard her real name was Lucy, I asked to keep calling her Jamie, a name she now prefers. I don’t yet understand their worlds, the management of fear, the unspoken assumptions and arrangements, the secrets. Something happened regarding this outlaw, Sterling, which involved Jake. They change subjects, however, if they suspect I am around. Perhaps some things are best left alone.
Mother is outraged they sometimes hold hands “where others can see.” Although I understand her view, no competition exists between Jamie and me. I do not want to take any steps hinting at competition. This friendship does not humiliate me, nor has it affected our marriage. In fact, Jamie possesses remarkable depth and is a good friend to do things with, especially when Jake and Mike visit their civil war battlefields, or go flying together. The ultimate course of their relationship lies in uncharted waters and is between them. Jake, and even Jamie, remain comfortable in talking with me about bumps in the road.
Jamie’s physical attraction to Jake is still a potential problem, and he cannot meet that need. She is a young woman, and needs a man who can understand her life. Their friendship will survive the transformation caused by Jamie’s marriage someday, and the odd triangle will continue. I could never love another man the way Jamie loves Jake. I don’t know how, and the ingredients are missing. I am not an urban or undercover cop. I just married one.