Trust Me

had assumed she would marry someone from our world. But I’ve decided that isn’t necessary. I think you can make her happy.”
    That startled Stark. “Do you?”
    Benedick turned his head. He regarded Stark with a considering look. “I think you’ll do very well for my daughter.”
    Stark met his eyes. “I’m surprised to hear you say that after what happened at the Limelight.”
    “Let me rephrase that. I think you’ll do very well for Desdemona once you’ve gotten past feeling guilty for that incident.”
    “Why shouldn’t I feel responsible? I was responsible.”
    Benedick’s bushy brows jiggled up and down. “Do you think you’re the only man on the face of the earth who ever failed to protect someone he loved?”
    Stark knotted his hand into a fist. “No.”
    “Then stop being so damned hard on yourself.” Benedick walked to a chair and sat down. “You’re only human. Let it go, Stark. I’m not saying you’ll ever be able to forget it, but you have to let it go. Otherwise it will eat you alive. And if you allow it to do that, it will ruin your chance of happiness with Desdemona.”
    “This sounds personal.”
    “It is. I know what you’re going through.”
    “Is that a fact?”
    Benedick watched him from beneath half-lowered lids. “How do you think I felt when I failed to protect Desdemona from George Northstreet?”
    Stark could not think of anything to say to that. Benedick’s mouth formed a grim line. “I had no excuses. I simply had not realized how dangerous Northstreet was. I didn’t take sufficient precautions to protect my family. It was my fault that he got to Desdemona. He intended to kidnap her first and then return for Celia, you know.”
    “I looked up the old records of the case. Northstreet was crazy. You couldn’t have known he’d try to kidnap Desdemona or her mother before he put that gun to his own head.”
    “No. I couldn’t have known. But I told myself that I should have known. I couldn’t forgive myself for a very long time afterward. Couldn’t find any peace of mind for months. I kept thinking of how close I had come to losing my new daughter. I was afraid that Celia would never again trust me to take care of her and Desdemona.”
    Stark stared unseeingly at the screen of his electronic calendar. “How did you get past it?”
    “Celia got me past it. She reminded me that I was a man, not a superman. That I couldn’t take responsibility for everything that went wrong in life. She said that if I did, I’d be impossible to live with.”
    Stark looked up from the calendar. “What did she mean by that?”
    “A man who holds himself accountable for everything that goes wrong in his world soon becomes what I believe is termed a control freak. He becomes rigid. Inflexible.” Benedick paused delicately. “A computer, if you will.”
    Stark narrowed his eyes. “Did Desdemona send you here today?”
    “No. Why do you ask?”
    Stark reminded himself that the man was an actor. “Forget it. What’s your point, Benedick?”
    “My point is simple. A man who demands too much of himself makes other people uncomfortable. They figure if he can’t live up to his own standards, they’ll never be able to satisfy him, either. After a while they tend to drift away from him.”
    “So?”
    “So, after a while he finds himself alone in the world.”
    “You’re telling me that if I don’t let myself off the hook for what happened to Desdemona, I’ll drive her away?”
    Benedick smiled faintly. “She’s my daughter. She’s loyal, but she’s not stupid. She’ll only bash her head against a stone wall for so long.”
    “I see.” The deep cold of chaos swirled up out of the cauldron inside Stark.
    “Listen up, son,” Benedick said. “The world’s a hard enough place as it is. Don’t spend what time you’ve got in it alone.”
    Alone in chaos.
    Stark looked down into the endless depth of the cauldron.

    Two days later Desdemona set a platter of steaming tortillas onto the kitchen table in front of Stark, Jason, and Kyle. “Gentlemen, start your engines. Everyone at the table is responsible for creating his own taco.”
    “I don’t want any hot peppers on mine,” Jason announced.
    “Then skip the hot peppers,” Desdemona said. “I’ll probably eat them all, anyway.”
    Kyle made a face. “You like hot peppers?”
    “Love ‘em.”
    Desdemona sat down and reached for a large flour tortilla. Stark reached for one at the same time. Their