YOU ALWAYS REGRET
You Always Regret
Jodie Morgan moved in across the street from us when she was fourteen years old. For a fifteen-year-old boy, it was love at first sight. There was no 'cute meet'. From the beginning, it was as if we were destined to be together forever.
Enough of all that squishy stuff.
What really bound us together was a common love of adventure. We constantly had to be doing things. Not just common everyday things but extraordinary stuff. As kids, it started with kid stuff like climbing extremely high trees or going cave exploring. Diving off of the local bridges and painting the local water tanks. Nothing seemed to be off-limits as long as it wasn't illegal, although a lot of it was a bit borderline if you know what I mean.
Her favorite expression was, "You always regret the things you don't do." Just who is Jackson Browne?
It was a struggle for us to get through high school without killing ourselves. I finished first and had a good job waiting, laying bricks. Our school had an industrial arts program and I took full advantage of it. Jodie finished a year later. She had been in an EMT training program and was quickly picked up by one of the local ambulance services.
Six months later, Jodie Morgan became Mrs. John Terrell. Our extracurricular activities slowed down tremendously but did not disappear. The excitement that we were missing outside the house was made up for in the bedroom. Sex-wise, nothing was off the table.
We worked hard. We saved our money and bought a house. After our third son was born, Jodie quit working. Life was good. I had six men working for me and more jobs than we could handle. Only one problem still existed. Jodie was starting to regret.
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"John, we have to do something."
"About what? I thought everything was fine. Are the boys okay?"
"The boys are fine for now. It is us that I am worried about. We are stagnating. If we don't start doing something we are going to grow roots and never be able to move again."
"That's a hell of an exaggeration, but I do understand what you are trying to say. Any suggestions?"
"The boys are eight, nine, and ten. I think that they are old enough to be doing stuff with us. We will have to adapt a little to be able to include them, but I think it might be fun. It doesn't have to be continuous, but we should be doing something. I don't want them to regret not doing things when they were young. We didn't."
Jodie didn't appreciate it when I started laughing. "What the hell is so funny John?"
"You sound just like you did twenty years ago. Is this the legacy that you are going to leave your sons?"
"Well. Why not. I think it is a good thing to instill in them. I want them to be more than just bumps on a log."
"Is that it?"
"No! I want it for me too. There is a hell of a lot of stuff that we have not done yet. We can afford it and we have the time. Your guys can cover for you whenever you have to get away."
"Okay, I am on board. Start the ball rolling or so they say."
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For the next couple of years, we were constantly on the go. It was not continuous, but it was pretty regular. When one trip was done, Jodie was already planning the next one, or two. We all enjoyed white water rafting and that opened several doors. We made two trips to the boundary waters in Minnesota. We tried bungee jumping and zip lines.
We ended up owning five kayaks. After getting SCUBA certified, more doors were opened. We tried hot air ballooning but found it boring. Jodie and I each did a tandem parachute jump.
Ten years had passed.
Terry, our oldest son joined the Air Force. Greg became a SCUBA instructor and Robert, the youngest ended up being a long-haul truck driver.
Jodie and I were alone. Things seemed to slow down. I spent more time at work and Jodie spent more time on the internet.
Jodie went back to work.
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Things were quiet for several months.
"John?"
"Yes."
"I am starting to get a bit antsy."
"What exactly does that mean?"
"I need to do something."
"Things are a bit busy at work right now, can it wait a while."
"I guess so. Actually, I was thinking maybe I could do something on my own for a change."
"You mean by yourself?"
"Not exactly. I thought maybe, with one of the girls from work. I have never gone anywhere without you, so this would be a little different."
"Anything particular in mind?"
"No. Sarah and I talked about it a little, but we haven't decided on anything."
"That's Sarah Harlow?"
"Yes. You met her at some of the picnics."
"Is she the one that's been divorced twice?"
Jodie hesitated. "Yes, but that is not a problem."
"Why would it be?"
"I am sorry, I just thought that you were being a little judgmental. Just because she is divorced doesn't make her a bad person."
"I never said that, and I am sorry if you interpreted it that way."
"So, It's okay with you?"
"Of course. Have I ever denied you anything?"
"Thank you! Thank you!"
I did not feel good about this.
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Any trips or vacations that Jodie would be planning would in some fashion be related to her mantra. I knew that. I just had to figure out how it would apply in this case. She would be doing something so that she would not regret not doing it later. That's a lot of negatives there. All I had to do was figure it out.
The business had grown well over the years. In addition to laying brick, we were also doing a lot of blockwork and poured concrete foundations. We didn't do driveways or pavements, just foundations and wall pours. The company was also doing steel building construction. It was usually prefab-type buildings, but some of them were quite large. I now had over fifty full-time employees.
I never asked Jodie what she was planning. The fact that she didn't openly volunteer what it was going to be caused me some concern. I am sure that she had something in mind. My fears were greatly magnified when I discovered that she was deleting her computer browsing history every time. I guess most guys would have no trouble getting around that problem, but I was not that clever. I didn't even know what a key logger did. She was also deleting her emails, but that is where she screwed up.
Jodie was sending her emails to trash, but she did not realize that they stayed in trash for thirty days unless she also emptied the trash every time. I started reviewing her emails for the past thirty days. Most of them were just usual junk, but the correspondence that she had with Sarah was eye-opening.
The words were enough to confirm my suspicions, but the web links that accompanied them finalized it. I didn't check out all of the websites that were referenced; it wasn't necessary.
It was time to make a decision that I would not regret.
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It was the Tuesday Market in Boquete, and yes. it actually was Tuesday. I felt like the new kid in school. This was my first time venturing out even though I had been here two days. I strolled around for a while and finally found the designated coffee shop. Being old school, I just ordered a plain black coffee. It was early and the people were just starting to accumulate, as I grabbed one of the still empty seats. I felt odd wearing a New York Yankees baseball cap, but that was one of my stipulations.
"Hey! New guy! Welcome to Boquete. You must be Mickey, right?"
My greeter was also wearing a Yankees cap. I sort of half stood to greet him, but he motioned me to sit back down and he did the same.
"Ted Williams. Always glad to meet a fellow ballplayer." He shook my hand with great vigor. We both sort of snickered a little at the lame ball player reference. I assumed it was an in-joke, but I was getting the feeling that a lot of people were aware of it.
"Just how many fellow ballplayers are we talking about?"
"As of now, it looks like ten baseball and three tennis players."
"Tennis?"
"The baseball players are all guys, but there are three chicks here under the program and Hector has decided that tennis was more appropriate for them."
"Are they all here?"
"All but one. Chris Evert is living in David." (da-veed)
Just then Sandy Koufax and Bob Feller joined us. Before the end of the morning, I met four more famous ballplayers.
Bob was quick to get to the point. "So Mister Mickey Mantle, in twenty-five words are less tell us why you decided to go with Panama Promotion Alternatives?"
From the way the question was phrased, I guessed that nobody wanted the gory details, just a quick overview.
"My wife of twenty-three years decided that she wanted to spread her wings and I decided that I did not want to stand in her way. So I left."
Yogi Berra was the first to respond. "That was more than twenty-five words." Ted gave him a poke in the ribs.
For the next twenty minutes, each of the guys related the reasons that they were in the program. They were pretty much all different but the results were the same.
Ten guys and three ladies each signed up with PPA so that they could get away from undesirable situations at home. It wasn't cheap and it was in no way infallible. Basically, it got us a new name, a new driver's license, and a new bank account. Unfortunately, we were still US citizens and had to pay US taxes in our old names. All except Joe DiMaggio who was from Canada. If somebody really wanted to find us they could.
Hector Ruiz set up Panama Promotion Alternatives so people in our position had some sort of option to disappear without going to extremes. This was no Black Ops type system, in fact, it was pretty loose. Hector was a die-hard baseball fan. Things were not totally kosher, but they were greased enough that we could feel comfortable. The name changes were properly filed and the driver's licenses and bank accounts were good. The banking itself was not a piece of cake, but it was workable.
It was almost noon when my cell chirped. I had not yet got a new one. The whole team looked on as I read the text.
"AIR JAMACIA FLIGHT 247 HAS LANDED AT PHILADELPHIA INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT FROM MONTEGO BAY."
I looked at my companions and smiled. "Gentlemen! My wife has just returned home from her ten-day vacation."
We all went to "The Rock" that night for the ribs.
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I spend the next few months familiarizing myself with the area. There was always a team member or two around for companionship and assistance.
I notified all three of the boys of the situation but gave no details. Their mother could explain it all to them.
Hector insisted that all of the PPA participants set up a go-bag or a bug-bag. Both Barry Bonds and Willie Mays had to use their go-bag at some point. Barry was being tracked down by his irate wife and Willie had two brothers-in-law looking for him. They were more than happy to recommend items that I had to have if necessary.
It became necessary sooner than I expected.
The phone rang at 5 Am. Who the hell would be calling at that time.
"Mister Mantle! This is Hector. A driver will be at your place in thirty minutes. Have everything ready to go and be prepared to stay at least a week, maybe longer. Say nothing to anyone. I will take care of everything."
Actually, there wasn't much to do. I had enough time to shower and shave and still be ready to go. Luckily the driver brought some arepas with him. An hour later we were in David.
Chris Evert was waiting with a go-bag when we pulled up. I have no idea why she chose David instead of Boquete. There was a definite difference in temperature as we drove South. She didn't look like a tennis player at all. Of course, I didn't look like a baseball player either. She appeared to be mostly Mediterranean.
We introduced ourselves and she got settled in. She already had breakfast, so I ate her arepas.
"Do you have any idea where we are going?" I shook my head no.
"Do you have any idea why?" I played ignorant again. She got a dejected look on her face and sat quietly for the rest of the ride.
Thirty minutes later we pulled into a small marina. I had no idea where we were.
I know absolutely nothing about sailboats. All I know is that the one that we ended up on, seemed to be medium size. After unloading us and our bags, the driver smiled, waved, and drove off. The boat was named 'Yankee Clipper'. I thought that that was ironic.
The captain, Jaime Ruiz was Hector's cousin. His mate was a young local girl named Marisol. It appeared that he would run the boat and she would take care of everything else. I had no idea what we would be doing or how much we were going to be charged for this service. It didn't matter.
Our bags were stowed in the rear cabin, and we gathered on deck for coffee and some biscuits of some sort. It was too early for lunch. Jaime was proud to tell us all about his Peterson 44. That meant nothing to me. Chris and I were both acting as if we were interested for his benefit. I glanced at her a few times and it was easy to see how she felt. He did get her attention however when he mentioned that we would be staying in the main cabin and he and Marisol would be upfront.
"I am sorry, but that doesn't work for me." She said it with all seriousness. I smiled and Jaime looked a little confused.
"I don't even know this man and I have no intention of sharing a bed or even a room with him. You will have to figure out some other arrangement."
Jaime had no quick answer so I chimed in. "Don't worry about it. I can use the main bath and I will have no trouble sleeping on the pull-out bed in the galley. I am sure that Miss Chris would have no problem with keeping my bug-out bag in her room. Would that be all right?" After I said that I realized that I sounded a bit like a smart ass by using the term 'Miss Chris'. I would be careful not to make that mistake again in the future.
Chris went below to get settled in her room while I wandered about above deck. Jamie and Marisol pulled away from the dock using an auxiliary engine. I had no idea where we were, and I had no idea where we were going and didn't care. I must have dozed off because the next thing I remember was Marisol calling me to come to eat lunch. It looked as if most of the meals would be on deck. That was fine with me.
After a light lunch, Jamie opened a small tablet computer. "Miss Evert, your ex-husband, Anthony Crupi, and some friends arrived in Panama City last evening and rented a car this morning. All we know is that they asked the lady at the car rental desk for directions to David."
Chris slumped down in her chair, sighed, and said "Shit!".
"Mister Mantle, your wife, Jodie Terrell, arrived on the same flight from Philadelphia, and also rented a car. We don't know any more than that."
"Marisol! Do you have any cold beer?" I couldn't think of anything clever to say.
Thirty minutes later, Jaime and Marisol were busy getting the sails up, and before long we were going full speed on the open ocean. Chris spent the rest of the afternoon below, and I laid out on the deck enjoying the sun and the wind. I did get my cold beer.
Things settled down for the next three days. I slept in the galley, Chris had the main bedroom, and Jamie and Marisol shared the forward berth. I was trying to make myself useful by helping Jaime whenever and however I could. Chris was working with Marisol and had actually put together a few of the meals by herself. She excelled with brunch-type lunches. Nobody complained. She seemed comfortable in the kitchen/galley area.
Most of my free time was spent on deck, except when it rained. It rained just about every day, but not all day. When we were not sailing, Jaime found some quiet coves and inlets to moor the boat for a while. I caught a few fish but had no idea what kind they were. All I knew is that they tasted pretty good.
Chris did spend time on top, but she usually wore a light cover-up most times. She did have a one-piece swimsuit that was a bit modest and seemed to be a little old fashion for her. Unlike Jodie, Chris was short and chunky. She wasn't fat, but she had some meat on her bones. I found it interesting, but not erotic.
"You know a little sun would help you keep that beautiful tan." It was a weak attempt on my part to be friendly.
"It's not a tan, you idiot. The sun ages your skin and is a major cause of melanoma. I'd rather cover up than get old with leather skin."
That was a surprise. Her skin had a golden sheen to it and I had just assumed that it was from regular tanning. I guess she was really Mediterranean of some type. I'll try a different approach tomorrow.
Everything was quiet and serene. Who am I kidding? It was boring as hell. At the end of the week, Chris was finally warming up. The conversations were short and of no consequence, but they were conversations. That night, after supper, we were on deck and she decided to open up a bit.
"Mickey, why are you here? What made you sign up with the PPA? Since I chose to live in David instead of Boquete, I feel a little bit out of the loop. You guys up there all know each other."
"That goes two ways. I tell you what. You tell me your story and I'll tell you mine, but first I need to know one thing."
"Yeah! What's that?"
"What is your real name?"
"We are not supposed to tell, but what the hell. My name is Carla."
"Fine! You can call me John. I feel funny answering to Mickey."
Carla reached into the cooler and got us both a new long neck. "I won't bore you with the long story. I got married about eight years ago in West Chester, to the son of an old family friend. I guess you could call it an arranged marriage, although it technically wasn't. My family was well to do and his family was also. Unfortunately, I was unable to have children, so my husband decided that he needed to look elsewhere. Are you with me so far?"
I smiled, nodded, and took a swig of my beer.
"My family, the Randazzo's, were into municipal construction activities. They maintained all of the traffic signals, street lights, storm sewers, and other similar projects for the tri-county area. It was very lucrative. The Crupi family owned four restaurants, and several pizza parlors and sandwich shops."
"And how did you end up here?"
"My husband Tony, casually informed me that he was having a baby with his latest girlfriend. He was going to be moving her into our house while she was pregnant and after the baby was born they would find a more suitable arrangement."
"Sounds as if he was pretty confident."
"He always was." She got us two more cold ones. I smiled and waited for her to continue.
"I burnt down the house, along with three cars. Then I torched the largest of the Crupi restaurants, and finally cleaned out all of the banking accounts including savings and investments. Two days later I was here."
We sat quietly for a few minutes, enjoying the beer. "Okay, John. Now it's your turn."
"My wife, Jodie, and I met when we were kids. We grew up together and were always getting into trouble. She enjoyed every minute of it. Her mantra was 'You always regret what you don't do', and she lived by it. Over the years we married and had three kids. I started my own construction business, which did very well. Every chance we got, we were doing something adventurous and exciting. After the kids were gone, she got a little bored and decided to go on one of her own escapades. The nature of her chosen project meant that I could not go along and also, unfortunately, she could not discuss it with me."
Carla handed me a new cold beer. "I think I can see where this is going."
"I am not a computer whiz, but I didn't have any problem figuring it out. It bothered me a great deal. I don't know what was worse, knowing what she was going to do or knowing that she was keeping it a secret from me. We had shared everything our entire lives and now this was going to happen."
"I take it that you waited until after she left before you took off?"
"Yeah! I turned my business over to my employees in exchange for a share of future profits and took a good chunk of our savings, but not all of it. I left her the house and everything else."
"You're sure that she did what you thought she was going to do?"
"No! I don't want to know or need to know any more than I do. I don't need the grief."
"Have you heard from her since?"
"Nope!"
We sat quietly for a while and then Carla excused herself and went to bed. I slept on deck that night.
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A storm of some sort blew in the next day. By supper time it was pretty bad. Jaime and Marisol spent quite a bit of time putting out lines and anchors or something like that, to prepare for the night. They seemed to know what they were doing, so I felt comfortable with the situation.
All I could think of was the lyrics from an old Queen song. 'Thunder and lightning, very, very frighting. Galileo, Galileo'. I don't know which was worse, the bright flashes or the loud claps of thunder. It was hard sleeping and the fact that Carla kept shaking me didn't help.
"What the hell do you want?"
"This storm is really bad, John. Come down to the cabin with me. Quickly."
"It's okay. I am okay. Don't worry about me. Go back to bed."
"I am not worried about you, asshole. I'm worried about me. Get your ass down to that cabin. Now!" She was tugging the hell out of my arm.
I spent the rest of the night with my arms around her. Most of the time she had the covers pulled up over her head. By the next morning, things were calm and quiet. I woke up with a boob in my hand and a raging hard-on. She seemed to be awake and aware of both conditions but did not know what to do, so she just laid there rigid. As smoothly as I could I pulled my butt back and slid my hand away. I have no idea how it got up under her nightgown.
As we got rearranged in the bed, she turned to face me.
"Thank you, John. I needed that." She slid out of bed and went to the head. I had no idea what she was referring to. I went topside and relieved, myself overboard.
Carla was very friendly the rest of the day. Jamie and Marisol were enjoying making us feel uncomfortable about our night together. The comments and jabs were continuous all day. In fact, Carla seemed to get in a few herself. I was more embarrassed than she was.
That evening, after a few beers on deck, Carla grabbed my hand and we went to the cabin together. We did not get much sleep that night. It was a new experience for me. My first woman other than Jodie. It was different, but also the same. Hard to describe, but I did truly enjoy myself. I felt no guilt.
Unfortunately, it was also our last night aboard the Yankee Clipper.
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On the way home, our driver gave us the latest update. It seems that Jodie left Boquete after a week, and returned home. Carla's husband, however, just disappeared along with his two companions. They found the rental car in the middle of nowhere, but no occupants. We dropped Carla off at her apartment and an hour later I was home.
The first person I met the next morning was Billy Jean King. She spent most of the week with Jodie, while I was gone. Jodie spent a couple of days flashing my picture around town. It didn't take long for her to figure out that I was now Mickey Mantel. Other than the PPA guys nobody was being secretive about me. They just didn't have any information to give her except where I lived. When she realized that I wasn't coming back, she gave up and left. She didn't talk much, but she did reveal to Billy Jean that I left because she screwed up. That is all that she said. Not much of an explanation, but then again it was second-hand. However, if that is how she actually felt about it, my leaving was the right choice.
For the next few months, things were fairly normal, except for the fact that I was spending two or three days a week in David and Carla was spending a couple of days a week in Boquete. There was never any deep emotional attachment between us, it was just a great friendship. She finally decided that I was not going to move to David, so she found us a bigger, better apartment in Boquete, and we merged.
Carla decided to take up watercolor painting and I got involved in serious exercising. So serious, that Willie Mays, Sandy Koufax, and I decided to open our own workout facility, a gym so to speak. It was a fun little project. A whole bunch of the expats in the area had unused exercise equipment sitting around not being used. It is funny how people buy that stuff, not realizing that it doesn't work if you don't use it. In a short time, we had more exercise gear than we needed. More than half of it wasn't gym quality and we ended up having to get rid of it. Nobody seemed to be insulted by that. They just wanted it gone.
Monica Seles was really glad to see us open up so that she could start up some yoga and Zumba classes. We charged a low monthly fee just to cover rent, utilities, and insurance.
The gym thing was going well and Carla was excited about her painting. Other things however were not as rosy.
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The PPA turned out to be a bucket of worms. Hector tried his best to set everything up and keep it running, but it was just too complicated. A few of the guys had some passport problems. The tax situation was a mess. Odd as it may seem, the banking got a bit confusing. After several group meetings, it was decided to do away with the program. Everybody agreed to it, except Joe Dimaggio. Hector agreed to make an exception for him.
It took a couple of weeks, but eventually, everyone had new driver's licenses and bank accounts. Our old passports were still good. The only downside now was that it would be easier for someone to find us. We still kept Hector on as a legal advisor and confidant. We also kept our bug bags, just in case.
A year had passed and I didn't even realize it. The checks were still arriving every month. They varied in amounts but were always more than adequate. What made things nice was that Carla had way more money than I did and was not stingy. We were living the good life and wanted for nothing.
I had no contact with Jodie or my sons since the last time I called them.
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The next six months were pretty active. One day I came home to find Carla sitting on the porch with a stranger. Michael Randazzo had come from West Chester to spend a week with his daughter. They had not spoken since she left. Her mother was unable to make the trip due to a heart problem. I felt a little uneasy, but he quickly put my mind to rest. He seemed sincerely appreciative that his daughter was happy and was being taken care of. I felt a little uncomfortable, especially since I was almost twenty years older than her.
Michael and I spend several hours together over the next week. He apologized for allowing the problem with Carla's husband to get out of hand. He never came out and said it, but I got the idea that Anthony Crupi never did return to the states and never would. I didn't ask for an explanation. It was his monkey and his circus. He had tried to get the charges against Carla dismissed but didn't have any luck. He also asked me about my marital situation and seemed sincerely interested in my answer. The week went fast. Carla was happy and I got the benefit of it.
Before leaving he took me aside. "John, Carla needs to see her mother. She can't come back as Carla Crupi, but she could make it as Carla Terrell. Think about it." I interpreted that as his approval.
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Six weeks later I got another surprise; my son Greg showed up.
"You're a hard man to find, Dad, but not impossible."
"Sorry for not keeping in touch, but I assume you know the situation."
"Actually, Dad, none of us do. We have all tried, but Mom refuses to tell us anything. All she will say is that it was her fault and nothing else."
"It's been way over a year and I haven't heard a thing from her. She showed up over a year ago and I avoided her the whole time she was here. I was still pretty raw at the time."
"Raw from what, Dad? Are you going to give us a clue?"
"Nope! I said too much already. Now, what the hell are you doing here."
"Do you know where Boca Del Toro is?"
"Sure! It's about five hours North of here. Why?"
"I bought a fifty percent partnership is a dive shop. I am here to complete all of the paperwork. I will be moving down next month."
"What is your mother doing?"
"She was pretty depressed for a while, then she got a new job. She is working at a junior high school cafeteria. She tried to sell the house, but couldn't without your signature so she rented it out and got an apartment. We talked to her about getting a more upscale job, but she got upset and told us to mind our own business. Between the rent, she is getting for the house and her salary, I guess she is doing okay."
Just then Carla walked in. It was obvious that she was living here and neither of us had any idea of hiding it.
"Hi! You must be Greg. John talks a lot about you."
Greg was surprised and it showed on his face. Carla laughed.
"It's okay, Greg. Just think of me as your father's live-in housekeeper. Who wants a beer?" She had a way of breaking the ice. Greg was suddenly comfortable with the situation. We talked a while longer and then went out for supper.
Before Greg left to back to the states, I gave him a power of attorney so that Jodie could sell the house. A month later he was back to get started in his new endeavor.
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I had had no contact with the business since I left. That was the plan. The checks kept coming and I had no reason to stick my nose into it. It was a couple of months later when I started to notice that my monthly deposits from the company had increased significantly. I had left Gary Jones in charge of the company and felt that it was time to check in with him.
"Gary! This is John."
"Damn! It's about time. You have been gone almost two years. What is going on?"
"I was going to ask you the same question. I saw a big jump in the monthly checks and got curious. Is there something that I should know about?"
"A couple of months ago we got a visit from a company from down towards Philly called Empire Industries. Did you ever hear of them?"
Of course, I heard of them. Empire Industries was owned by the Randazzo family. All of this must have taken place shortly after I met Carla's father.
"Yeah! I heard of them. I know one of the owners, Michael Randazzo. What happened to bring this all about?"
"They explained to us that they had a lot of miscellaneous type jobs that were cropping up that did not fit in with their normal operations. They wanted to subcontract the work out and wondered if we were interested. We couldn't see a downside to the offer, so we agreed to try it for ninety days. It worked out great for us. We have a lot of new work in Chester and Montgomery counties, and I had to hire twelve more men. I also had to buy three more trucks and some other equipment."
"Is everything under control or do you need some help?"
"John, it's all fine. We would like to have you back though. I'd haven't had a day off since you left. I could really use a week at the shore."
We both had a small laugh at his suggestion. "Gary, let me think on that a while. I'll get back to you." I could hear him smirking on the other end.
"Gary, has Jodie been by at all?"
"To be honest John, she was only here one time. About a week after you left, she showed up. I explained to her that you were no longer associated with the company, just like you told me to. I know that she wanted to know more, but she couldn't bring herself to ask. She didn't cry or get too upset. Seemed a bit sad more than anything else. We never saw her again."
I had a light but serious discussion with Carla that evening and she swore that she knew nothing about what her daddy had done. She did think it was funny, however.
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Months passed and everything was going well. I got a surprise at Christmas when Terry showed up. Greg had shared everything with both of his brothers, but carefully kept most of it from his mother. Of course, she knew where I was and I am sure that she suspected that Greg and I had gotten together since he was in Panama also. He just never shared anything with her and she never asked.
Terry spent two days with Carla and me in Boquete and the rest of the time in Bocas Del Toro with Greg. Greg had promised to get him SCUBA recertified while he was here.
Terry brought two things that Jodie wanted him to give to me. The first was a check for two hundred and ten thousand dollars. My share from the sale of the house. It was her decision, not mine. The second thing was a final divorce decree. There was no letter, explanation, or message. Just the two envelopes. When he left, I had no message or letter for him to take back.
Closure!
I had no regrets.
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Two months later Carla Terrell had her new passport and was on the way to see her mother with her new husband. It was a round-trip ticket.
