A House Divided Ch. 03

I found a little Irish pub with a sidewalk table setup and with a bit of good luck, was able to order my favorite Irish beer, Harp Lager. Lindsay had an iced tea and we both had a sandwich for our lunch. It was warm with that typical LA hazy sun, even on the water, but it was a pleasant change from the cold winds of winter that were soon to visit us back home. We talked and planned Jo's homecoming and what we would do at Thanksgiving to make it even more special. Naturally, the grandparents would be there and we knew Pete would be home from University, so it was a matter of who else we could invite. I asked Lindsay to discretely find out if Pat Carver had any family plans for that holiday. I knew her parents lived in Iowa and wondered if they would be making a visit. If not, I would happily invite her, Alicia and Brandon to join us. I was enjoying the idea of having Jo back with us; hopefully forever.

Our afternoon visit was much like the morning visit. There were times when we didn't talk, just sat and held hands and took comfort in her presence. She seemed happy with that as well. I had told her that Lindsay would be going home on Sunday and staying with Pat and Jo was very happy with that. She also told us more than once how happy she was that we were there. I told her that I had talked to her folks as well as mine and they all wished her a speedy recovery. I wasn't sure if she would be up to talking to them on the phone yet, but we could arrange that when she was. After a few minutes, she showed signs of drowsiness again and Lindsay and I kissed her and left quietly. We would return after dinner for the evening visit.

On Saturday, Lindsay and I did a bit of sightseeing and generally just killed time between our visits with Jo. She seemed stronger today and a bit more alert. She didn't get drowsy as quickly as she had on Friday. I found I was constantly looking at my watch to make sure we weren't late getting to the hospital. That evening Lindsay and Jo had a tearful farewell and in a way, I was happy. They had restored their relationship and it was a genuine tonic to Jo, I was sure. I took Lindsay to the airport on Sunday morning and we talked about what she was going to do when she got home. I reminded her of our 'stealth plan' for Thanksgiving and told her to phone both grandparents when she got in to let them know she was back and where she was staying. I watched her walk down into the tunnel leading to the plane, taking a quick look over her shoulder to smile and wave as she disappeared. I headed back toward the hotel and in a last minute decision, changed my route to Manhattan Beach. My little bar with the Irish beer was perfect for a Sunday lunch.

When I arrived at Jo's room, she was gone. The bed was unmade and I wondered where she could be. The answer was that she was out for a ride in a wheelchair and she was just on her way back with a Candy-Striper at the helm. She had her I.V. bag along side on a pole and she was smiling as she saw me peer around the corner.

"Hi. Look at me ... mobile again." she laughed. "This is what passes for exercise right now. At least it's a change of scenery."

"You look much better, Jo. You've got some color back." I enthused.

"I feel better, Mark. I'm not there yet, but I feel better." she said in a serious tone.

The young girl helped Jo into her bed and pushed the button to raise the head of the bed more upright. She plumped the pillows behind Jo's back and bid her goodbye until later.

"Lindsay's on her way back home and Pat's going to pick her up at the airport." I reported.

"Honey, there's something I need to tell you." Jo interrupted.

"What's that?" I asked, smiling.

"I'm going to resign. I'm going to write a letter of resignation as soon as I can. I can't do this anymore."

"No you are not!" I said with mock indignation.

"What do you mean? I said I'm going to resign. Isn't that what you want?" she asked in a bewildered voice.

"Jo, you are going to remain a loyal employee of your company. You are going on their Long Term Disability Plan where you will receive 75% of your gross salary for a period of up to two years or whenever you can be declared fit by your doctor to return to full time employment. Then, and only then, you will resign! Understood?" I had carefully given her this statement in a theatrical voice to make sure she knew I wasn't arguing with her.

"Oh." was her only reply. I saw the smile creep slowly over her face. "You really don't like these people, do you?" Her eyes were sparkling for the first time in months.

"No, not much." I laughed.

"Well, you saw it much sooner than I did." she said, now serious. "The night I got sick, I was sitting in the bar with a bunch of the local executive and a couple of my bosses from Chicago. They were all laughing about how the November and December projections were so much better than plan. They were going to buy a bunch more stock before they let a press release out indicating that the results were better than the 'street projections'. On top of that, they had arbitrarily upped the forecasts for the first quarter of next year without telling me. They thought it was a big joke. They were going to sell their stock at the big price in December with the good news and buy it back in February when we fell short of projections and the stock dropped. They had some scheme worked out that the S.E.C. wouldn't catch on to. They called it 'vacation money'.

"Well, well; isn't that interesting. I'll bet the S.E.C. would love to hear about this game." I said in what must have been a sneering tone. My mind went back to my conversation with Shel Moskovitch and I though I would give him a call on Monday. "I think I have a way to let the S.E.C. know without them having to reveal the source. You don't need the kind of hassle they would produce if they thought you were the informant on their game. Do you own much stock?" I asked.

"Some ... about two thousand shares I think. Why?" she asked in a curious tone.

"Sell it. That way no one can say you could profit from this little swindle. Besides, we don't need the cash. It's just another tax burden." I laughed.

"Oh god, Mark. I was so blind. I was so determined to succeed I couldn't see what I was doing to us. It was like being an addict; I couldn't stop. I was feeding on the work and the results. We kept getting better and I kept getting encouragement and it was like a snowball rolling down the hill."

I was delighted that she now saw clearly how she had been used and happily went along with it. I had no doubt that her pals in Chicago had already replaced her and would continue their relentless push for more. I looked at her and stood up, leaned over and kissed her; at first gently and then, as she pulled me to her, more forcefully. We looked at each other wordlessly and the tears began to form in her eyes again. I was now sure she was back with me again.

"First things first." I said. "We've got to get you out of here and back to our home. I think you can count on a warm homecoming with your family. Thanksgiving isn't that far away and we're going to have a dandy time; I promise you." I said it this time with the conviction that I was right; it would be a true Thanksgiving for the Holmes family.

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I brought Jo home on the mid-morning Northwest flight on Thursday of the following week. She had been discharged on Wednesday morning, but we wanted at least a day to ourselves to get her ready for the homecoming. We went sightseeing, stopped at Manhattan Beach for lunch and walked along the sea-walk for an hour or so; stopping along the way to allow Jo to rest. It was another unusually warm November day and a light sweater was all she needed to keep warm. Hospital food had done nothing for her weight loss and I was determined that we would begin the 'fattening up' process as soon as we were home.

When we walked through the tunnel into the arrivals area of the airport in Minneapolis it looked like half of Eden Prairie was there. Lindsay, Pete, Pat Carver, both our parents, half the staff in Jo's former Bloomington office, and probably others that I missed. Jo was in tears at the sight of them all and I could only stand off to the side and watch with pride and appreciation at the welcoming of her friends and family. I guessed this would be a big energy boost to my wife and I was very grateful for this display of affection.

Our Thanksgiving Holiday was something special. The house was full to overflowing with guests and family. Pat even took in a couple at her house to help with the shortage of space. The weather was typical November in Minnesota; cold and raw. There wouldn't be any patio parties so we just had to make do with what we had indoors. The unfinished basement became a storage space as well as a temporary bedroom for a couple of pets that were brought along. The change in Jo was wonderful. She had regained her color and her energy; although I wasn't about to let her do too much. If she had gained any weight in the two weeks she had been home, I couldn't detect it, but each day she seemed to be getting stronger. We had started her off with obligatory afternoon naps and early bedtimes, but somehow, the Thanksgiving period pushed a lot of those rules to the side. She had plenty of help in the kitchen with our two mothers as well a various volunteers in the coming and going of visitors. I saw her smile very often that weekend and I have to say it was just as important for me as it was for her.

In the following months, Pat and Lindsay became Jo's personal instructors for diet and exercise. They were relentless; bordering on maniacal when it came to her recovery. Of course, they were full participants as well. Jo gained almost twenty of her lost pounds back in four months and thought she would like to stop there. She had always felt she was a bit heavy. Pat lost ten pounds herself and was delighted with the results. She claimed it was the reason she had a new man in her life. Lindsay was full of energy and had become very close to her mother again. I just stood on the sidelines and watched all this unfold before me. Jo and I would go for a walk in the neighborhood each evening after dinner if the weather permitted. As spring approached and the days grew longer, we walked a bit further and often had nothing to talk about, but enjoyed each other's company. We stopped and talked to our neighbors and generally enjoyed our life again.

Jo never went back to work. She volunteered at the Senior's Center a couple of times a week and kept up her membership in the fitness club. I continued with my agency and surprisingly, new business began to appear. I'm not sure why, but I didn't care. It was a nice side benefit with no extra work involved. Jo's employer tried to get her off the LTDI plan, but her doctor would have none of it for at least a year. Finally, we both agreed there was no need to continue and we notified their insurer that she was fit. On the day we filed the notification, Jo sent her formal resignation in to the Chicago office. We had long since cleared out her belongings from the corporate apartment and I was amazed at how little there was. Almost all of it was clothing; mostly black and severe and all of it was donated to the Good Will. She kept a couple of pairs of shoes she liked, but seldom wears them except when we venture out for dinner or a party. During the summer, the S.E.C. announced an investigation into irregular trading of stock within Jo's old company and while nothing was announced, it was obvious that someone had tipped off the regulator to the "shenanigans" with the stock among the executives the previous winter. No indictments were announced, but the investigation was ongoing. There was a rumor at the Bloomington office that the I.R.S. had been sniffing around as well. As for Jo's stock; we sold it in November and put the money in an actual "vacation account" at our bank. I thought the irony of it all was delicious.

And so we are back to our perfect life in our perfect house with our perfect family. The relationship between Jo and I is stronger than ever and she and I have put the past behind us. She almost paid a price too high for her ambition, but in the end, we have recovered from a near disaster and our marriage, family and happiness have been restored. I couldn't ask for more.

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"Can't you see that I'm lonely, rescue me!" Is a line from Aretha Franklin's "Rescue Me". Used without permission.