On Reflection

As Bill rolled away, the controller held high, he saw me standing there in the doorway. His smile disappeared like a light switch had been flipped off. He stopped immediately and got up from the floor, telling the kids that the game was over. They didn't stop right away, not knowing I was there. Bill grabbed both of them by the shoulder and turned them so they could see me standing there. I was still grinning at them but I suddenly noticed that I was the only one still smiling. All the joy and laughter was gone, the silence following the laughter, deafening.

Suddenly I felt it all come crashing down on me. The pain, the lack of joy in our house with Bill gone, the sadness I felt every night when I went to bed alone. All of it came crashing down, almost driving me to my knees. I was just standing there, not able to say anything when Bill spoke.

"OK kids. It's time for me to go. I'll pick you up right at ten tomorrow morning. Be ready, OK?" With that, he spoke to Rachael and then walked past me and out the door without a word. I watched him go with mixed emotions. He wasn't supposed to be here without notifying me, but then I realized I had told him I would be out this evening. He probably didn't expect to find me home so early.

"Thanks a lot mom! You weren't supposed to be here this early. Dad and us were having a lot of fun together until you ruined it. Thanks a lot!" That was from Jase as he angrily picked up the controller and turned the game off. He said goodnight to Rachael and then, followed by Jenny, walked out and up the stairs to their rooms.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Stridell. Mr. Stridell called to ask if you had gone out and when I told him you had left, he came over to play with the twins. It was OK wasn't it? You just told me he wasn't supposed to be here when you were. I'm sorry if I did something wrong. I didn't mean too." Rachael was concerned, her appearance looking as if she was afraid she had messed up.

"No, no Rachel. You did nothing wrong. And you're right: he isn't supposed to be here when I am but you couldn't know I was coming home so early, and neither could he. So, it's alright. It's fine. You can go home now."

I paid her and walked her to the door. "Thanks Rachael. I'll call when I need you again. Goodnight."

I stood there in the hallway of my home, alone as it seemed I was more and more. My children were angry with me, my babysitter was afraid she had done something wrong and my ex-husband had walked out without a word to me. The joy and the laughter I saw when I first came in was missing from our home now and had been since I confronted Bill with his infidelity. But what bothered me the most was that while he was the one that created the problem, I was the one paying the price. And it was a steep price to pay.

I slowly walked up the stairs to my empty bed and stripped out of my new dress. I washed my face of the makeup I had applied so carefully and let my hair down, the elaborate hairdo I began the evening with forgotten. All of that care for what? A date with a man who wanted nothing more than to get into my panties for some satisfaction? For him, of course, not for me! I sighed, turned out the light and pulled the covers over me. The last thoughts I had before I fell asleep were about the laughter I saw earlier.

I was sitting at the kitchen table the next morning, a Saturday, when the doorbell rang and the kids went to get it. It was Bill, coming to pick up the kids. As usual, he would wait outside for them to get their bags for the weekend stay-over. I normally remained in the kitchen during this transition but today, I felt the urge to see Bill. I wanted to see him relaxed and ready for two days with our twins. Without thinking of the consequences, I rose and walked into the foyer. I went to the door, opened the storm door and saw him sitting on the steps. I spoke as he turned.

"Good morning Bill. How have you been?"

He said nothing, just looked up at me. I was surprised at how well he looked. Unlike me, the divorce hadn't seemed to bother him much. But then he was probably screwing his little slut regularly and it seemed to be good for him.

He stood then, turned around and looked away. "I've been doing OK. Work's good, business is up. So things are good. You?"

"I'm OK too, I guess. I'm sorry about last night. I should have called to let Rachael know I was coming home early. It wasn't your fault. Or Rachael's."

"Yeah, OK. I was just spending a little time with the kids since I was at loose ends. I'll be more careful in the future."

"Please Bill. It wasn't a problem. You don't have to do anything different. It was my mistake. The date first, and then not calling."

As I was about to explain about the date, the twins came running out the door and grabbing their dad, ran to the car. Bill went with them as if my words were unimportant. As I watched them together, I realized that they probably were. They turned to wave goodbye as I watched them get in. They seemed so happy with him, more so than with me. I didn't seem to be able to get them to have fun any more. I wish I knew why.

I went back in, dreading the weekend without my kids. They were my only salvation now. Where I used to love the weekends, Bill and I sleeping late and listening to the kids downstairs on their Playstation or watching cartoons, or just having fun, now it was just me. If they weren't with Bill for his weekend, they were gone to practice for something or other. This weekend was typical: with Bill gone, Brad gone and now Jase and Jenny with their dad, it was just me, the day promising to be very empty. I spent the remainder of that day reflecting on my life. I was alone now, only my kids to keep me company. I worked at a job I didn't particularly like; I slept alone; I only dated occasionally since most of the guys I met were usually married or not candidates for other than one night stands.

I managed to survive the two days and on Sunday, fixed a small dinner, knowing the kids would be home but that Bill would probably feed them before coming back. He usually did that, taking the time to talk to them and make plans for the next weekend they would spend together. They always came home filled with plans and excited about the next time with their dad. I admit to being jealous.

When the kids came home, they talked a little about their weekend but didn't give me any details. More and more, they seemed to consider their time with Bill as their time, not mine. I seemed to find myself more and more closed off from them. I made sure they were ready for school the following day and sent them off to bed. Bored, I soon followed and laid out my clothes for tomorrow, ready for my job.

I worked at the bank until 2:30, five days a week with Saturday and Sunday off, and I had just gotten home that Monday when I heard the phone ringing. I used my key to open the door and rushing in, I dropped my stuff, ran into the kitchen to grab the phone before the caller hung up.

"Hello? This is Wendy."

"Is this Mrs. Stridell? Mrs. William Stridell?"I didn't recognize the voice at all.

"I'm Wendy Stridell. I'm divorced now so it's no longer Mrs. William Stridell. Can I help you?"

"Yeah, maybe you can. Look, this is Harold Pierce, down at Capitol Investigations. Bradley hired me to make up that report? You know, the one that you used to dump your old man? Looks like it worked OK since you're split now."

"I'm sorry but I don't know much about you or the report: only what Brad told me. Why are you calling me?"

"Look lady, it's too bad he had to bite the dust but Brad still owed me a grand for making up that shit. Doctoring those pictures alone cost me a couple hundred bucks. Now that you're out from under that creep of a husband of yours, someone has to pay me the grand. Since he croaked, you're the only one left."

"I don't know what you're talking about. Brad said he paid for that report out of his own pocket. And what do you mean, 'doctoring those pictures'? Why did you have to do anything to them?"

"Don't be funny with me lady. That report was bogus and you know it. Those pictures were PhotoShopped by one of my guys so don't give me any of that crap. I want my grand or the DA will hear about your scam from an anonymous source. I'm covered so nothing comes back to me. But you? That's a different story. You wanted to dump that cheap SOB and get half of his money, so you had your lover hire me. I have his words on tape, telling me that the two of you planned this. So, I'll stop by tomorrow around noon for the grand. Have it waiting if you know what's good for you."

He disconnected and I sat there, the phone still against my ear as the dial tone hummed. I was stunned! The report was bogus? The pictures were not real? It was all a scam and Brad was the one that did it all! He conned me all right! He made up that whole thing about Bill having an affair and got a sleazy PI to make up a false report, complete with pictures to convince me! And the worst part was that Ifellfor it, hook, line and sinker! I turned on my husband and refused to even consider that he was telling me the truth.

I put down the phone and sat there, my head spinning, my stomach clenching in severe pain, my face flushed. I was feeling sick to my stomach and almost didn't make it to the bathroom before everything I had came up, scalding my throat and mouth as it spewed out. I know I screamed in agony as the truth came crashing down on me. All I could say was "NO!" over and over and over.

I tried to get up, away from the commode but when I stood, my stomach clenched again, the pain forcing me to my knees just in time for another round of heaves, mostly dry since the contents of my stomach were already in the bowl. I bent over, the cramps not letting go, my face drenched with sweat and my fists clenched in agony as I tried to bring up whatever was left. Each time I tried to get up, to wash my mouth of the sick taste, it hit me all over again.

My kids found me there on the floor of the bathroom when they came home from school. I had been there for the past two hours, alternately seized by dry heaves and washing my face, then crying until the next spasm took control. My stomach was empty now and the only thing left were the painful cramps that wouldn't stop. I felt like I wanted to die and hoped that I would. They did the only thing they could think of when they called Bill and told him I was very sick. I wanted to die now for sure.

With Jase's help, I got up and half walked, half crawled up the stairs to the bedroom. I wanted to just lie down on the bed and let sleep claim me but Jase got a wet washcloth and bathed my pale, ashen face. He looked so worried and that made me try to take some control of myself. I couldn't let my child suffer for my sins. I had to ease his mind.

"Thanks Jase. I'll be OK now. Please, go call your dad and tell him not to come. I don't want to see him now. Please, Jase. Please. Go!"

"But mom; you're sick! You need someone to help you and Jenny and I don't know what to do. Dad will know. He'll take care of you."

"No Jase! Listen to me now! I don't want your dad here! Do you hear me!Not your dad! Now, do as I told you! Call him! Tell him not to come. No! Wait! Better yet, let him come and then you and your sister go with him and stay there until I call you. Now! Go!"

I got myself up, pushed my son out the door in spite of his yelling, and locked it behind him. I couldn't stand the thought of facing any of them right now, maybe never again. I was humiliated and the emotional pain was so intense I was making myself physically sick. I couldn't let Bill or my kids see that. I couldn't!

I sank down on the bed, my stomach quiet for the moment. I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth, tasting the sour bite of vomit. I bowed my head, let the tears come and I cried. I couldn't stop myself. What I had done to my family by believing Brad's story of Bill's infidelity was clear. Now I knew it for what it was: a fabrication built up with fake pictures and a fake report about some woman who didn't even exist. And I swallowed it: all of it! In spite of living with my husband for almost fifteen years, I never even thought to question the story Brad brought me. And the warning Bill gave me about Brad so long ago; I just ignored that as well. I bought everything he told me, at the cost of my marriage and my family.

As I sat there, I heard the sound of voices coming from downstairs. I waited, praying that they would all go and leave me here alone. I couldn't stand to face anyone tonight. I definitely couldn't face Bill. But then, Bill never wanted to look at me now anyway. He hadn't for some time. And now, knowing what I did, I couldn't blame him. He must hate me and I now knew why he always looked at me with those accusing eyes.

Pounding on the door: "Wendy, let me in! Open the door Wendy! Wendy!" It was Bill, trying to get me to open the door. I couldn't! I just couldn't do that! I had to make him go away!

"I'm fine Bill. Just take the kids and go. You can keep them for a few days. I'll call you tomorrow. Please Bill, just go away!"

"Wendy? Jase said you were sick. He and Jenny said you were very sick. Let me in Wendy. You're scaring the kids now. Please, let me in."

I couldn't do that to my kids! I had to do something! I sat up, wiped my face with the wet washcloth Jase had given me and walked slowly to the door. If I could just make it through the next few minutes, Bill would take the twins and go. I would be alone.

"Fine! Just a minute!" I squared my shoulders, took a deep breath, brushed my hair back from my face and opened the door. "Ok Bill. Are you satisfied now? I'm fine! Now, please, just take Jase and Jenny and go back to your place for a couple of days. I'll be fine if you just give me a couple of days. Please?"

Bill stood there staring at me as if I was a complete stranger. I held his eyes for a few seconds before looking away, trying to find my children. They were standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking very small and frightened. I couldn't stand that so I walked out of the room and over to the top of the stairs.

"Honest kids, I'm fine. I must have a bug or something and I just don't want you two to catch it from me. So, if you stay with your dad, you should be safe. I can take care of myself. So, are we OK?"

I waited until I saw them nod, then turned back to Bill and said very softly, "Please Bill. Just take them and go! I have to be alone right now. If you ever cared for me, please, just do this for me. Please, Bill"

Bill looked at me and reached out to take my hand in his. "Wendy, you are in some kind of trouble. Let me help. You are still the mother of my children. Let me help you for them, if not for yourself."

I looked into his eyes, saw that small kernel of concern, and that was all I could stand. I began to cry as I ran into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind me. I twisted the pathetic lock and stood there, my back pressed against the door as if to block him from coming in. I waited but he didn't make further attempts. He walked away, I heard voices again and then the door close when they left. I stayed as I was until I heard the car pull out and, opening the door slowly, I listened to the silence. They were gone!

That night was hell for me as I finally understood everything. I spent the next several days at work, doing the mindless job that I was beginning to hate, then returning home to sit and stare at the wall, trying to understand how I had been so gullible, so willing to believe something so horrible about the only man I had ever loved. And yes, now that I was forced to see the truth, I realized that I had loved him all along. That's why the sex with Brad never really felt good, why my sadness over his death had passed so quickly, why the dates with men I thought were fine always left me with an empty feeling. That's why James left in a huff on our date: I was comparing him to Bill and he wasn't Bill. None of them were, even Brad. Why hadn't I understood that before now?

I paid the man his thousand dollars on Tuesday and asked him for the truth. He told me what Brad had requested of him, that the girl was just some hooker they picked up off the street, the backgrounds lifted from the internet. And the report was just a complete fabrication, using dates and places supplied by Brad. He had a photographer take some pictures of Bill without his knowledge and used his face with the pictures of another man with the hooker. Since Brad knew Bill's schedule, he was the perfect one to set it up. And he did it all just to take me away from Bill; to best Bill at something, because of his jealousy. He knew Bill was to be promoted very soon and he would end up working for him so he wanted to take me away first. And he succeeded. I let him make a fool out of me and cheat Bill out of my love. And if he hadn't died in that freak car accident, I never would have known!

It was Thursday before I called Bill to tell him he could bring the children home but I requested that he stop and see me beforehand. I told him I had something I wanted to talk to him about and that the children couldn't be a part of. He was curious but all I would say was that it would be something he needed to know. He agreed finally but reluctantly.

I had debated about what I should do and I knew one thing. I had to tell Bill the truth about everything. He had to know that I believed him and that I knew he had never cheated on me. It was important for me to let him know that I had regained my trust in him and recognized the decency that made him the man he was. While I couldn't take those things away from him, I could let him know that I now realized I should never have doubted him. He deserved that from me at least.

Friday Bill called and asked if we could meet at home that evening. He said we could talk, I could say what I wanted and then we could decide if the kids should stay with him over the weekend. He was very quiet, not the least bit rude or abrupt as he normally was when he called. I appreciated that small token and agreed to meet him. He said he would bring takeout, something we used to do quite often. I thanked him and hung up, determined but frightened of what I was about to do. I finished my shift at the bank and left for home and my coming humiliation.

Bill arrived right at six, the time we had agreed to. He had a pizza and some diet Pepsis that he sat on the kitchen table. I got the napkins and a couple of glasses and set two places; very domestic and very family oriented. The hypocrisy was not lost on me: this artificial domesticity and my intended confession of unmitigated deceit and betrayal. I almost lost my courage but I steeled myself and indicated to Bill that he should sit.

I set the pizza on our plates, opened and poured the Pepsi. After that, I sat back and looked at Bill.

"I have something very difficult to say to you and I need a promise from you that you will listen until I'm finished. If you try to interrupt, or to ask questions before I'm done, I won't be able to get through this. This is important Bill, so you have to promise me."

Bill looked at me, and I guess the pain on my face convinced him that I needed to do this. He finally nodded, and gestured for me to begin. I swallowed, said a quick prayer for help and began.

"First, I want to apologize to you for not believing in you when you tried to tell me you would never do the things I accused you of. That was my biggest sin, and one I will regret until the day I die. All you asked of me was faith and trust, and I gave you neither."

Bill started to say something and I quickly raised my hand. "Please, Bill, you promised."

He subsided and I continued. "Before filing for the divorce, I let Brad convince me to bar you from seeing the children and living here in the house. I now know he did that to prevent you from talking to me and trying to convince me you didn't do those things. My sin is that I listened to him and not to you.