"Eric," he said. "We're going through enough to have to deal with another letter. The pictures in the magazine, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry..."
And he apologized over and over until I was sick with guilt. Why had I done this? Why had I sent those stupid pictures to the magazine and destroyed the man who meant more than anything to me?
The stalker situation, however, was a different matter.
"Why are you fighting this?" I asked Drew. "Why won't you let us help you? Mark and I, the police, your friends... we all want to help you and you keep pushing us away!"
Drew went into his monologue again about not wanting to hurt innocent people like his former boss Mr. Marinaro. But by this point, I didn't care if the whole Marinaro family was in prison.
"What kind of father do you think the old man was-- to have raised a kid that would behave like this, Andrew?" He didn't respond.
I continued. "We're getting a restraining order against this nutcase. I don't give a damn if it goes on his record, Drew. You have to start thinking of yourself. Of us. I mean, what is this doing to us? We never have any peace, we're always fighting, we never relax. Please, Andrew, let me do this-- we'll get a restraining order then we'll go somewhere for the weekend and try to get some rest. Maybe Mexico... maybe San Francisco... doesn't that sound good?"
Drew started to apologize again, over and over.
Finally, he agreed with me. But he begged me to let him talk to Mr. Marinaro before I went ahead with acquiring a restraining order. I said yes, but I demanded he do it soon. Very soon.
I told him "I'm also calling Mark."
He gave me that look and I quickly responded, "Look, would you rather have a stranger? Would you rather have someone you don't know, come in here and ask a million embarrassing questions, starting from scratch? Mark is your friend, whatever feelings you two have for each other. And I hope both of you are adult enough to put them aside and deal with this. I MEAN IT, Andrew. No more bullshit-- no more games. We're gonna end this stupid stalking thing right now."
Finally, after weeks of this madness -- I began to make headway with Andrew. I could see he'd reached the end of his rope and that even if Mr. Marinaro was dragged through the mud (and he would be), Drew was willing to take action.
He promised to call Marinaro right away. He agreed to allow me to phone Mark, which made me a little nervous, but I did believe that ALL of us should overlook any personal feelings and tackle this problem immediately.
I was sure going to give a helluva try.
Meanwhile, I still hadn't heard from my parents since I'd sent "the letter." And I was beginning to wonder if I ever would.
