Myeyes fly to hers. “Youwere in foster care, too?”Ihaven’t ever had clearance high enough to know that detail.
Shenods. “Myparents were happily married, and my mom meant everything to my dad.Then, she passed away very suddenly whenIwas six.Mydad didn’t handle his grief well, and we had no support system, soIspent the next five years in and out of foster care.Honestly,Ithought my dad had sent me to foster care because he utterly despised me.EveryinteractionIhad with him from age six untilImoved out at eighteen supported that theory.”
Ican’t take my eyes offDirectorLancasteras she’s telling me this.Shemight have seen a fellow foster kid in me, butIhave never seen it in her.
“Imoved out with plans to never look back.Ifigured both of us would be happier ifIwasn’t ever around.TheolderIgot, though, and more distance from when my mom passed,Iguess, my dad started reaching out to me, and we were able to rebuild at least a small part of our relationship.
“Ieventually found out that his reactions to me and sending me to foster care hadn’t been because he despised me.Ithad been becauseIreminded him too much of my mom, and he was too grief-stricken to deal with that reminder.Andit definitely made it hard for him to show any love to me.Infact, for most of those years,Idon’t think he was even capable of showing love to me.”
Thisis all so personal, andIdon’t know howIfeel about having theDirectorof theClandestineServicesAgencysitting in my apartment, telling me about something that must have been so difficult for her.Ididn’t do anything to earn this level of familiarity and closeness and vulnerability from her.
ButIhave wanted to know more about this woman for the past four years.Thingsbeyond what my clearance level got me access to, andIam soaking it all in.Ijust don’t know why she is here telling me these things, beyond simply the camaraderie that growing up not being loved by a parent gave us.
Then, as if she can tell thatI’mwondering, she says, “I’msharing this with you becauseIrealized that my dad’s lack of love was not becauseIwas unlovable.Ithad nothing at all to do with me and everything to do with him.”
Emotionis starting to well up in my chest, andIclear my throat, trying to free some of it.
“OnceIwas recruited by theCIA,Irealized that my childhood experiences made me a really good operative.Isuspect that you have noticed the same.”
Ijust nod.It’sno wonder this woman has fascinated me for so many years.Weare so much alike.
“Navigatinga dad who couldn’t move forward again after tragedy and not having anyone close to me was an asset.IfiguredIwas a good operative becauseIhad nothing to lose.Thatwas the key— that was what mademe strong.”
Inod.That’swhyI’mstrong, too.That’showIgot to be the best.Ineed to get back to that.
“Then,ImetRickand fell in love.”Shesmiles. “Thatwas whenIfound out that having a lot to lose actually made me a better operative.”
Myeyes flash to hers.
“Itmade me try harder.Wantto be better.Becomemore.Partof what made the difference was knowing that he loved me, and knowing there was that kind of love in the world helped me to remember whatIwas fighting for.Itreminded me why trying so hard as an operative was important.
“Theway it made me better was knowing thatIhad his undying support.Nomatter how bad things got in the field,IknewIcould go home to someone who loved me and had my back no matter what.Thatgot me through some of the toughest assignmentsI’vehad.OnesthatI’mnot sureIwould’ve gotten through otherwise.”
“Really?Itmade you stronger?Better?”
Shenods. “Itreally did.Andtogether we decided we wanted to raise kids with that same undying love and support.Kidswho knew without a doubt that we had their backs, and that we would no matter what profession they chose.Ifthey wanted to grow up to be intelligence operatives, they could.Wewould prove that the best operatives didn’t have to come from the worst backgrounds.Maybethey could come from the best.Maybethat would make them the best they could be.Justlike it did for me.”
I’msilent as everything she is telling me is pushing its way around my head, making room for itself, moving theparts out of the way that no longer fit.Shepatiently sits asIthink, not making me feel rushed.SoIdo.Igive it time and permission to work its way in and find a place to stay.
I’vegot a question thatIdon’t quite know how to ask, but it’s burning a hole inside me, soIask it in the un-elegant way it just happens to come out. “Howdid you manage to fall in love?”
Shelets out a short laugh. “WhenRickfirst started showing that he loved me,Ihad such a hard time believing it was true.”
“Youdid?”
“Yep.Ikept pushing him away.Overand over.Weactually broke up at one point, butIhad pushed him away quite a bit before then, too.Ijust couldn’t accept that he knew what he was talking about when he said he loved me, because all evidenceIhad pointed to me not being worthy of love.Iwas fine with him thinkingIwas a great operative, becauseIwas.ButIcouldn’t seem to open myself up to him loving me.”
Suddenly, somethingSullytold me pops into my head.Itwas along the lines ofIfyou’re not going to open yourself up to love, you crave the next best thing— admiration?Ithad felt like an attack at the time.MaybebecauseIhad felt the truth in it, even ifIhadn’t been willing to admit it.Andnow thatIknow what love feels like,Iknow that admiration isn’t even a close substitute.Somehow, it’s easier to acceptSully’swords as truth knowing thatDirectorLancasterhad felt the same way herself.
“So, how’d you get past it?”Myvoice comes outshaky asIask.
“Ihad been working on an operation at theCIAwhenIended things withRick.Wehad been tracking a slippery arms dealer who had evaded us for years.Butwe knew we were close to getting him and he knew it, too.
“Wefinally caught a break in the form of a lot of evidence that showed he was in an abandoned factory on the outskirts of a remote village inEasternEurope.I’mtalking satellite images, intercepted communications, on-the-ground intel, all of it.Weplanned a high-stakes raid with a full team.
“Butwhen we got there, the factory was empty.Nosigns at all that they hadeverbeen there.Hehad planted the evidence, all while he worked out of a bunker miles away.He’dknown we would believe the evidence without question.
“Thatmission taught me that sometimes, no matter how compelling it seems, evidence can be wrong.Ihad thoughtIhad all the evidenceIneeded to believe thatIwas unlovable.Butit was a false trail.Itwasn’t the truth.
