Puller glanced at the bags on the IV stand and watched the liquids from them

trickling through the lines terminating at a port in Demirjian’s arm. From there

they went into her bloodstream. He felt sure one of them was morphine. “You’re

here…about…my letter.” “Yes ma’am.” “I loved Jackie very much. I respected her

more than anyone I’ve ever known.” As did most with that name Jacqueline Puller

had gone by Jackie.

 

She also physically resembled Jackie Kennedy. “And I know she liked you.” “I…I’m

sure you aren’t happy about what I’ve done.” Her words marched slowly out of her

mouth. Puller assumed that was just the way it would be with all the meds she

was probably on. “I would just like to understand it better.” “Did you read…it?”

“I did.” “What would you like to know?” “You said in the letter that my parents

fought a lot.” “They did.” “But I don’t recall any of that.” “Do you remember

when your mother would bring you and your brother over to my house?” “Yes.”

“That was so you…wouldn’t see them fighting.” “How do you know that?” “Your

mother would tell me.” “But how would she know beforehand that they were going

to fight?” “Because your father was coming home from deployment. They always

fought then.” Puller leaned back in his chair. “What would they fight about?”

“Mostly, your father wanting to control every part of her life.” Her voice had

grown stronger the more she talked. She even boosted herself up a bit on her

pillow.

 

She turned her head to the side and looked at him. “I know you don’t want to

hear this. I can imagine that to you, your father walked on water.” “My dad had

faults,” Puller said uncomfortably. “He could be rough.” “Yes, he could be. He