Weaver

He had actually enjoyed himself for the first time a very long while. He liked Bob and he liked the kids, but they were asking him to give something of himself and he wasn't sure he had anything left to give.

The next morning Arlene hadn't even had a chance to sit down at her desk when her phone rang. It was Derick Hoover. After the greetings, he got down to the reason for his call.

"Arlene, I know you said to drop my investigation but...well, I take pride in my work and it pissed me off when I couldn't find anything on Weaver's wife, so I kept looking on my own."

"Derick, please don't worry about it," replied Arlene. "I'm sure it's for the best anyway."

"Arlene, I'm pretty sure I found her."

"What?" she bellowed. "But..."

"Sorry, it was a challenge. I couldn't stop until I came up with something."

"Well...where is she? Have you talked to her?"

"No, I haven't talked to her. I thought I'd tell you first; see what you wanted to do. She's in Peoria."

Shit, thought Arlene, that's only two and half hours from here. But what would Bob say? He was pretty firm about snooping into Weaver's past anymore.

"Are you sure it's her?"

"Well, somebody would have to talk to her to confirm it but yeah, I'm pretty sure. It was one hell-of-a puzzle but all pieces seem to fit. All I had to start with was her married name, Christine Adams. I wasn't sure if she was still using that name, her maiden name, or if she married her lover and took his name, but the easiest way to track someone is through their social security number. That stays the same no matter what name is on it. So, I needed something with her maiden name. I began searching for their marriage license and came up empty. Finally I ran across an old newspaper announcement that said she and Weaver were married in Vegas. I had been looking in Illinois. The paper gave her name as Christine Evans, so I tried looking up all the usual documents; birth certificate, social security, driver's license, death certificate, census records...all that stuff. Again, I came up with zip. Shit, it was like she didn't exist."

Arlene was fascinated with Derick's story. She listened intently.

"I went back and tried looking up the marriage license again, and again came up with nothing. The newspaper article was in the sports section and didn't give an actual date that they had been married. After doing some more digging, I found a Charles Adams who married Kristyna Evanishyn. Did you know she wasn't born in the United States? She was born in Ukraine. She was three when her parents came over with her."

"No, I really don't know anything about the woman except what the old man told us; that she cheated on Weaver, got pregnant, and left him to be with her lover."

"Well it doesn't look like she stayed with him for very long. From what I can tell it's been just her and the kid," reported Derick.

"She must be ashamed of what she did. That's probably why she's been hiding all this time," Arlene said with distain.

"I don't know if she's really been hiding exactly," he responded. "It's just that she has two last names. Her family's last name is actually Evanishyn, but when they immigrated here her dad shortened and Americanized it to Evans. The problem was they never had it legally changed, so although everyone knew them as Evans, all their legal documents, including her social security card and marriage license were under her real name. Once I found out about the name change everything else just fell in place."

"So you're pretty sure you've found her. This isn't just a guess?"

"No, I'm positive it's her, Arlene. Now the question is, what do you want to do about it? She works as a waitress and lives in an apartment in Peoria with her son."

Arlene was thinking about Derick's question when she heard Carolyn over the intercom.

"Arlene, Bob is on line two."

"Okay, thanks," she responded. "Derick, let me think about this, okay? Don't do anything right now. I'm not sure what I want to do yet."

"No problem," he countered. "If you decide you want to see her just let me know. I have her address. Otherwise, I'm going to consider my job done. I just couldn't let it go half finished."

"Thanks, Derick; you are a real professional," she told him. "I really appreciate your efforts. I'll let you know what I decide."

They said their goodbyes before Arlene punched line two.

"Hi handsome."

"Hi gorgeous; how's my favorite lady this morning?"

"Well, right now I'd rather be in bed naked and with you inside of me, other than that, okay I guess." Too bad he couldn't see the smile on her face, she thought.

"That makes two of us, Gorgeous. Hey, can you break for lunch about one? I've got some really exciting news to tell you."

Arlene tried to probe him about what had him so thrilled but he wanted to tell her in person so they made a date for lunch at the dinner around the corner.

At one o'clock Bob stopped by her office to escort her for the three block walk to the restaurant. As soon as the waitress left the table with their orders he eagerly started the conversation with a rhetorical question.

"You'll never guess who showed up last night at the gym."

"Bob, you're like a little kid at Christmas. That can only mean one thing, Weaver."

"Okay, Mrs. Sherlock Holmes; yes, you're right," he quipped.

"Did he say anything this time? Did you get a chance to talk to him?"

"Oh, better than that; not only did we talk, he got in the ring and started working with the kids."

"What?" Arlene's smile now matched Bob's. "Honey, you're amazing. How did you get him to do that?"

"I really didn't do anything. Remember what I said before? Once boxing gets in your blood it's hard to shake. Well, I think he just needed something in his life and he couldn't turn his back on the sport anymore."

The waitress came with their coffees. Bob took a sip then continued with his enthusiastic dialogue. "Honey, you should have seen him. He was great and the kids love him."

"Do you think he'll come back...maybe start helping you on a regular basis?" probed Arlene.

"I sure hope so," he quickly replied. "We talked a little last night after locking up. I'm pretty sure he'll be there again tonight. You said you wanted to help him, honey; well, I think you've done it."

"Me?" she inquired. "What did I do? I didn't do anything; you're the one who's helping him."

"Arlene, if you hadn't cared and started asking me what I knew about him, none of this would have happened. If this works out, he has no one to thank but you."

Arlene smiled with pride and humbly accepted Bob's accolades, but with reservations. Could she close the book on Weaver's life, missing a chapter...a big chapter?

He was training for the biggest fight of his career. He could have been the middle weight champion; why did she cheat on him during such a crucial time in their lives? Was there something more? Maybe if Weaver knew the circumstances...knew the reasons behind her betrayal, he could forgive her. Then he could truly get on with his life; maybe even find someone to share it with.

She wondered if she should tell Bob about Derick's information. What would he say? Shit...she knew exactly what he'd say...leave it alone. Don't stir up more bad memories. But what would be the harm in going down there and just talking to her...?

By the time they got back to work, Arlene was even more conflicted about seeing Weaver's former wife. According to her boyfriend, it looked like the ex-fighter was ready to pull his life together again. Still, if she could just talk to the woman...if only to satisfy her own curiosity? But what would she tell Bob? He'd have a fit if he found out. So..., she decided, I just won't tell him. I'll simply say I'm going to Peoria to visit a friend.

Once Arlene had made up her mind, she wasted no time getting a hold of Derick.

"I thought you might call," he said after answering. "Since this morning I was able to get her phone number for you but I'm not sure I'd call her. It's been a long time and we really don't know what happened. I doubt she'll want to talk to some stranger over the phone about it. I think you'd stand a better chance in person."

"I agree," she told him. "But it's a long drive; I hate to go all the way down there and find she's not home, or at work or something."

"Well, she doesn't make much money and she has the kid to support so I doubt that she does much gallivanting around. As for work, she works four to twelve, six days a week. She's off on Mondays."

"Derick, you're amazing," she said praising him again.

"All part of the job," he humbly declared, grinning through the phone.

"Okay, just one more thing...please, don't say anything about this to Bob."

"Why not? I thought you guys were in this thing together," he responded.

"We are...or at least we were when we talked to Eric, but he thinks we should stay out of it now. He doesn't want to dig around in Weaver's past anymore."

"Ah, I have to tell you, Arlene, I think you're making a mistake by going behind his back like this, but I'll keep my mouth shut."

"Thanks, Derick. I just want to go down there and talk to her. At least I'll know for myself if she's the evil bitch that old man said she was."

"What if she's not," he questioned.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to cross that bridge when I come to it."

Arlene couldn't believe how nervous she was, knowing she was going to lie to Bob. I know what he'd say if he knew what I was going to do, though, she told herself. Things are going to good between us to get into an argument over this.

Her hand was actually shaking as she reached for the receiver. She dialed his extension and took a deep breath to steady herself.

"Bob Rawlings," he answered.

"Hi sweety," she cooed into the phone.

"Hey Gorgeous; this is a pleasant surprise. What's up?"

"I just wondered if you had any special plans for Saturday."

"You mean besides ravishing your body all day?"

"Yeah," she chuckled. "I mean besides that."

"Well, I heard of a new Italian place in Rossmont. I was told the food is excellent and they make their own wines. I thought I'd take you there for dinner. Why?"

"Oh, I'm sure that would be okay. I should be back by then. I'm going to Peoria during the day."

"Peoria; what's in Peoria?"

"Ah, I...ah...I have a friend down there. She just called; she said she's feeling kind of lonely and um, I said I'd go down and visit for a little while. I should be back in plenty of time for dinner, though."

Bob thought she sounded a little weird, but it was hard to tell over the phone.. He told her to just call him when she got back and she promised she would.

That night Weaver showed up at the gym again, only this time he carried a gym bag with some workout clothes. Bob watched as he talked to the boys and explained the finer points of the gentleman's sport.

After closing up, Weaver cashed in on his rain check from the night before. He followed Bob to a little neighborhood bar down the street from the gym. "Zale's?" he questioned, seeing the neon sign in the window on the way in.

"Yeah; Tony's brother used to own the place. When he passed away his kid took it over.

The two sat and talked over a couple beers. Bob was dying to ask where he'd been for the past ten years but didn't dare. Instead they talked about the gym and the kids.

Before leaving, Bob told him what a great job he was doing and asked if he'd be there Friday night. When Weaver said he would, Bob risked pushing a little harder.

"What about next week," he asked, "and the week after that and the week after that?" He wanted to get Weaver signed up as an official coach and trainer with the CYO.

Weaver had already given it a lot of thought. It didn't take him long to tell Bob he'd be honored to donate his time.

***

Arlene rolled on her side and waved her hand aimlessly, looking for the alarm clock. She hadn't opened her eyes yet, she was operating strictly by feel. Her fingers found their target and the incessant buzzing stopped. She pried open one eye; six a.m. "Ugh," she groaned out loud. It was earlier than when she normally got up, even for work; of course she didn't work in Peoria. She showered then fixed some breakfast, put on her make-up, and was on the road by seven-thirty.

All the way down, Arlene couldn't shake the feelings of guilt she carried, for lying to Bob. She had the address Derick gave her, loaded into her car's GPS. As she followed its instructions into the parking lot, Arlene swore the voice was scolding her as it announced her arrival. There's still time to turn around, she told herself with a sigh of uncertainty. But then she'd never know why...

She walked up the stairs to apartment seven and rung the bell. Within a few moments the door opened and a dark haired woman stood inquisitively in the entrance.

"Yes, can I help you?"

She wasn't quite what Arlene was expecting. Based on Weaver's despondency, she had a preconceived idea of a tall, exotic beauty with a killer body, but the woman standing in front of her was a couple inches shorter than she was. She was thin and had her hair pulled back in a pony-tail. She was rather plain looking but Arlene thought it was due to the lack of any make-up.

"Ah...excuse me, were you...ah, I mean...are you the Kristyna Evanishyn who was married to Chuck Adams, the prize fighter?"

The woman's face took on a stern appearance as she sized up the intruder.

"Who are you; some reporter or something?" she inquired with a snotty ring to her voice.

"No, no," Arlene quickly replied. "I'm a friend of his. I just wanted to talk to you."

Now the woman's expression turned wary. "A friend...of whose?"

"Weaver, your ex-husband," she answered.

Arlene watched as the color drained from the woman's face and she suddenly looked unsteady on her feet.

"Are you okay?" she asked stepping into the apartment and helping the woman to a chair. "Would you like some water or something?"

Kristyna nodded; she was feeling light headed and was fighting to keep from blacking out.

Arlene quickly looked around and saw the kitchen. She rushed in and started opening cabinet doors until she found a glass then filled it from the tap.

"Here you go," she said handing it Kristyna.

She took a couple of swallows then lowered the glass and held it in her lap with both hands. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths before taking some more.

"What..." She was still breathing heaving and was finding it hard to talk. "What do you mean you're a friend of his? You know where my husband is; he's alive?"

"Yes, of course he's alive. He's living..." Arlene stopped. This was just what Bob warned her about. She had no idea how evil this woman was or what she was capable of. She ripped Weaver's heart out once, she was not going to let her do it a second time.

"Ah...no, no I'm sorry but I'm not telling you where he is..."

"What do you mean you're not going to tell me?" Kristyna yelled. "You have to tell me. He's my husband; he has a son he's never seen!" She was becoming frantic.

"His son!" Arlene's voice dripped with contempt after hearing the woman's claim. "The way I hear it, the boy is the son of your lover; the guy you were cheating on Weaver, with."

Without warned, the woman jumped up and slapped Arlene hard across the face. In her entire life, she had never been hit; never slapped or even spanked as a child. She reacted with shock and fear. Her eyes widened as she felt the pain and quickly brought her hand to the side of her face.

Kristyna was filled with fury. "How dare you come into my home and accuse me of such filth. Out! Get out of here!" she emotionally cried before collapsing back into the chair.

Almost in a panic Arlene started for the door. As she reached for the knob she suddenly stopped. Something didn't make sense. The woman who was now sobbing in the chair did not resemble the description she and Bob were given by the old man in Grand Rapids.

Again she raised her hand and felt the heat emanating from her cheek as she wondered what to do. She turned and walked past the distraught woman and back into the kitchen. She saw an empty coffee maker on the counter and started searching.

"What are you doing?" sobbed Kristyna. "I told you to get out."

Arlene had already decided she wasn't going to let the woman intimidate her. Now it was time to put her, on-the-job, training to good use and take control of the situation.

"Sit down," she ordered. "I'm going to make us a pot of coffee; then you and I are going to have a heart to heart talk.

Still crying, but not so hard anymore, Kristyna grabbed a box of tissues and sat down at the kitchen table. "Coffee filters are in the cabinet on your left," she said. "The coffee is below you." She watched as Arlene went about her task. After finally composing herself she was able to find her voice again. "Where did you ever get the idea I cheated on Chuck and that little Charlie isn't his son?" she asked while wiping her eyes.

Arlene didn't answer right away. She had questions of her own. She grabbed two cups and started pouring the coffee. "Kristyna, why did you leave the training camp just before Weaver's fight?"

The two women sat and talked for almost three hours. Kristyna's story was diametrically opposite to that of Eric Schaeffer's and both ladies had tears in their eyes by the time they were finished.

As Arlene was getting ready to leave, little Charlie came running in. School was out for the summer and he had been playing with some of the other kids in the neighborhood.

"Hey mom, I'm getting hungry," he announced.

"Charlie, where are your manners? Don't you see we have a guest? Say hello to..." That's when she realized she didn't even know the young woman's name.

"Arlene," she said. "Arlene Reynolds."

"Hello Ms. Reynolds," he politely greeted her.

If Arlene had any doubts about Kristyna's story they were crushed when she saw the slim, brown haired boy with grey eyes.

"I'll fix you something to eat in a minute," Kristyna told her son. "As soon as I say goodbye to Ms. Reynolds."

Now friends, they walked to the door and out of the hearing range of young ears.

"Kristyna, do you trust me?" asked Arlene.

"Yes, I guess so. Why?"

"I want you to give me some time to figure this out," she explained. "I know you've been waiting for ten years, but Weaver's had it rough too and I'm afraid you just showing up with little Charlie could push him over the edge."

The desperate woman reluctantly told her new friend she would wait before coming to Chicago but made Arlene promise she would call her often and keep her up to date with what was happening with her husband.

Arlene was having a hard time keeping her mind on the road as she headed back home. Now she really had a problem. She was expecting to meet the bitch in Eric's story, satisfy her curiosity, and return with Bob never being the wiser.

Obviously, that was no longer the plan. She knew she did wrong and was now going to have to admit her deception. Still, she thought, how mad can he get when he finds out the real story?

Later that night, a nervous Arlene sat across the small table from the man she was falling in love with. She knew she hadn't been very good company. Her mind had been on other things all night. She was surprised Bob hadn't asked her about it. She also knew the longer she waited to come clean the worse it would be. The waiter had just set down their after dinner coffee.

"Bob, I...um, I have a confession to make," she stammered.

"Oh yeah," he chuckled, "and what would that be?"

"I...ah, I lied to you last week when I said I was going to Peoria today to see a friend," she quietly admitted.

Bob's demeanor suddenly changed and he looked at her with a serious expression. "What do you mean, you lied. Where'd you go?"