A Wife's Revenge Ch. 03

Bret nodded his head yes as a uniformed police name entered his room. "Bret Przyisabylski?" Bret nodded again, slightly amused that his name was pronounced correctly. We were always amused when someone pronounced the name correctly. "I'm Officer John Martin of the San Jose police. Can I sit down? This'll take some time." At that Dave and I left the room for a walk and some quiet time.

It was over an hour and a half later I got a text from John that he was leaving. That's when Dave and I returned. Bret was sitting alone, scribbling in a notebook. His hand-eye coordination was not yet back. I remember his beautiful clear penmanship when he was a teacher and a principal. I saw that his writing was jagged scribbles. I wonder how much permanent damage he has.

Bret smiled when we entered. Such a difference than the when we left. "Well, how'd it go? You look happier."

Looking at me and occasionally glancing to Dave, he stated out. "Y-Y-You really take the cake, don't you. All because he could say my last name, he gets you to fly out and ..."." I stated to protest when his casted arm swayed to calm me down. Again he winced from the pain.

"No Bret. It wasn't that, it was..."

Laughing now he broke back in. "I-I-I know, but I-I-I had to kid you about something. After all the bullshit and trash I did to you, you still came back to help me." He swallowed hard, "I didn't deserve it. Not the way I treated you." Then Bret looked at Dave. "If I ever hear that you did 5% of what I did to her, I'll come and kick your ass." He was holding up is casted arm, and winced in pain. The three of us laughed and then suddenly his face became very serious.

"John had known my father for about 30 years. They weren't on great terms at first, but after a while, the respect started to go both ways.

"PTSD. John said that there were a lot of vets roaming the street that came back with it. A couple of cops were pretty good with these guys and that helped everybody.

"My father was pretty bad. He's been hospitalized a couple of times, did some jail time for minor shit... never assaulted anybody, never robbed anybody. He did rip off construction sites, and after that, did a lot of dumpster diving for scrap. But never hurt anybody. Did a lot of drugs and alcohol, self-medicating. John looked at Dad's war records over the years at the times of arrests with the DAs or at the psych wards when they'd d-d-drop him off. Dad saw combat. John thinks that being a tunnel rat was what did it to him."

I broke in, "a tunnel rat?" Both of them stated to answer, then Bret was starting to stammer so he nodded to Dave.

"The Viet Cong couldn't build defenses where we could see and drop bombs on them or artillery target them. Instead, they tunneled. It was cheap and easy to do. US combat troops would sometimes enter the tunnels to find intelligence, bobby trap them, capture prisoners, whatever. Short guys were in demand. Think of what happens when they'd be ambushed down there? I've read that it was important to get our bodies back. War is hell to begin with."

Bret then continued, "My father showed up in southern California, self-medicating at need like he did in Nam and started to do at home. Here it tended to be weed, alcohol and sometimes horse." My face became a big question mark. Bret continued, "John used that term for heroin. In Nam it was whatever he could get, Thai stick or heroin most commonly.

"But most importantly, John told me that h-h-he didn't want to hurt my mother or me. I-I-I was only four, but at a kid growing up, I always thought that it was something I did wrong. Mom wouldn't talk about Dad." That's when Bret screwed up his face. Then he held his face in his hands and started crying. I leaned over and held him in my arms and he sobbed for 10 minutes. Dave walked behind me and held my shoulders as I jerked from my tears. The biggest load was lifted from his shoulders. A smaller one was lifted from mine.

Bret and I spent the next 45 minutes talking about this and what it meant to him, how it affected him, and finally, his beginning sense of relief. John offered to be there when Junior and Senior would meet again, when Senior was more stable. Bret found out that his father is medically declining. Living with chemicals and on the street has taken its toll. He's still healthy enough to be independent, but for how long? We were still in discussion when the charge nurse came in and quietly informed us that it was after 9 and that tomorrow was another day. Bret did need more rest.

Bret extended his hand to Dave when Dave said goodbye. Dave's flight was at 6 AM the next morning. Instead of taking Bret's hand, Dave leaned down and gave Bret a warm hug. The look of shock on Bret's face was astounding. I followed with a warm hug to my ex-jerk-of-a-ex-husband. I received a look of gratitude.

Dave took a cab to the airport, leaving at 4 in the morning. He wanted to minimize any chance for travelling delays. We've both hated flying for that reason. I went back to sleep for several hours. After the hotel breakfast, I got back to see Bret by 9:00 just as the discharge planner was leaving.

"Bret? What plans did she make for you?"

"None yet, she needed to find who was around that could be helpful. N-N-No plans now because they don't know when I'll be discharged and what I'll need. Might be a nursing home for a couple of days." At this he became quiet as I sat down next to him.

"I-I-I heard you talk about what I-I-I did to you." He looked at me with intensity, a sorrow, a caring. "You forgave me and got on your life. I think you found a better husband this time."

"Yea, I'm gonna keep this one."

"If you don't I'll show up and kick your ass and .."

"Bret, don't raise your arm this time. It'll hurt."

"Lucy, the Physical Therapist came in earlier. That's one of the things I gotta do." He grimaced when he lifted his arm again, "PT doesn't stand for Physical Therapy, it stands for Pain and Torture. I can't be avoiding pain like I have been for years. I gotta work through pain now." We both knew that this was going to be his key for the future, working through physical and emotional pain to the other side.

"I-I-I needed to apologize to you. I treated you like shit, like a thing. I started straying 6 months before you saw me in bed with her. I picked a needy, weak, and troubled woman that I could control. And I paid for it. Big time I paid for it. Lost my job, house, career in school districts... Mostly, I lost my wife and self-respect.

"I got my jollies. You got what you didn't deserve."

We were both quiet for a few minutes. This was real, this was honest, this was closure. Closure is important.

"I didn't give up my ways immediately. Moved to California and found some work in sales. Tried a couple of different business fields. One of them didn't work out was because I did it again with a daughter of a Corporate Officer of that firm." He paused and pointed to his legs, "My right knee is new. Never saw it coming. Never saw who did it, but I knew who ordered it. Deserved that one too. I recouped alone and I handled it.

"T-T-That's when I called it quits on ever targeting weak women again. Can't afford it." His face showed pain as he moved and stretched. "Can't afford it emotionally, physically and definitely economically.

"That's when I started to get my act together. As part of that, I started looking and two years later found my father. I thought I had it bad, but I did it all to myself. Even with all the great people around me, I still did it to myself.

"Dad was an 18 year old kid in combat from an alcoholic home dealing with real life and death. His probable death being the biggest thing, then the deaths and wounding of his friends in the Corps. John said that he knew that Dad had killed a few in close quarters. John said that Dad still has nightmares about that. I got no reason to bitch, no reason to complain..."

Bret pulled a tissue from the box and dabbed his eyes. "Well, in the past 2 years, I've started to make amends for what I did."

"Bret, when John Martin called, he said that there was a letter in your trash basket addressed to me. A letter of apology. I've never seen it."

Bret looked at me, "You've never seen it? There were tons of them, there are piles of them." Then he got a sheepish look on his face, "Wait a minute, they're in the trash folder on my pc. That's where they are all at. I only printed about one a month."

"I wasn't the right person for you. I always wanted more, more thrills, more sex, and more danger. I did love you, but I realize now that I loved me more. We weren't matched and I went behind your back to get what I wanted."

"I tried..."

"Yes, that's right Lucy, you tried. You drew a line in the sand that was pretty far from what you were comfortable with, and you went there for us. For over a year I tried too. Then I started to lose it when a pretty young thing came on to me while we were at a bar one night together. You went to the john and she slipped in for a few minutes. Should have told her no, should have stood up and walked away. Instead, when she gave me her number, I took it.

"You didn't deserve that. Over the next 6 months I became a pretty mean and full of himself bastard."

"But..."

"No let me finish. I've been working on this for months. I gotta get it out. Then you can bash me."

I was hearing honesty from Bret, real honesty, real painful to hear and painful to say honesty. I felt tears in my eyes and I grabbed a tissue. Then I looked at him and nodded yes.

"I stopped seeing you as a person, as my wife that I loved, as a partner. The thrills I got were from using people as sex toys. Then getting others to get my sex toys for me. I became damn good about that. I'm a real manipulative bastard, preying on the weak and the greedy. I loved the power trip. Never did anything wrong. Never paid for anything.

"What I've come to realize is that I chose to never grow up. I'm just a near 40 year old frat boy that didn't give a damn about anybody else.

"Then my entire world caved in on me at that bar when Chloe lost it. I'd been pushing her hard. I loved being in control of her. She'd do anything for me, especially become my pimp. Within 2 days, her eyes became vacant then she was gone. Run out of town.

"I was able to find her about a year ago. I tried to apologize but she pulled out a gun." He chuckled a little, "I would've deserved that one too." He shook his head in sorrow.

I never expected to hear any of this from him. I never expected any honesty. Hitting the bottom changed him. Now finding his ex show up at his hospital bed to care for him when he couldn't, then this father?

"Don't worry about me. I'm a survivor.

"Bret?" He looked at me. He looked at me like he used to when we were dating and first wed. "When are you going to stop being the survivor and get on with your life? When are you going to choose to grow and become a healthier Bret that can love and be loved?"

I heard a long exhale from him. But something changed. It wasn't a very big change, but I knew him so long ago, and I saw it now. I saw that maybe, just maybe he stopped bottoming out.

The pained look was still on his face, but I saw a hint of a smile, a hint of hope.

"As soon as you get better, you'll be able to help someone here that needs you desperately, your father. You may not be able to do much, but whatever you do will be more than he can do for himself.

"I remember you as a new teacher. You loved helping the kids. Get back into helping others and your life will get better. Then maybe, your next relationships will be better too.

"You're a smart guy that's made a bunch of dumb decisions. You've got a future."

We were silent for a couple of minutes. I could see the wheels turning in him, but it was not despair that came out of him. He was looking inward.

He shook his head as if to clear out some memories, and then looked at me. "Lucy, I'm still unfinished." He steeled his body, expecting some onslaught. "I need to hear from you. You need to tell me what I did to you. You may have told me when I was laying here, but I think that you need to say it to me when I'm awake." He inhaled and held his breath. "Don't hold back."

Now I was scared on what I was going to say. Worked through my feelings, but I know that the anger and the rage is still there. "We'd been having problems for months, if not a year or more. I wanted to make this marriage work, make it last. You kept pushing me to be involved in riskier things. I moved toward some of that. But it was never enough Bret. NEVER ENOUGH." My resentment and anger started to come uncorked. I had worked so hard to move on, but there was still anger in me, anger that he needed to hear. Anger I needed to say.

"Your power trips, you making me feel...not like a wife playing games. Like a ... streetwalker. We weren't on the same page. I was becoming a thing to you." At this point Bret started to try to say something, but I waved him quiet. "No, it's my turn now.

"Being in control, being in charge, being powerful was your mantra. When I suggested counseling, you hit the roof. From what you said that was a couple of months after you started bedding Chloe, wasn't it?" Bret nodded yes.

"I felt so empty, powerless, powerless to do anything to save the marriage. I'd already researched what it would take to end our one-sided marriage. So when I came home early that day and you rubbed fucking her into my face, it was a decision that was instantly made.

"I have to tell you, I was in the process of serving revenge to you, cold revenge. Cold and untraceable to me. On the same day and the same place where Chloe had her break down, it was going to start to happen." Bret's eyes opened wide.

"Yes Bret. Your sweet little ex-wife was going to start breaking up your little love fest." I stared into his eyes. "We never got the chance. Had people all set up to bring serious doubt into her little world with you. Then the next week, doubt into your world with her. Then it was going to be followed by somebody inside the school exposing your electronic trail to the School board. Chloe short circuited the whole thing."

"All I got was to hear about how you went down in flames. Lost Chloe, lost respect, lost job, lost house and then you disappeared. You know something Bret?" He looked at me in remorse, "And your downfall didn't do a damn thing for me." The anger inside of me was busting out. "Not a fucking thing for me."

Bret cringed. I was never one to be vulgar or profane. "Left me feeling empty. I hated what you did to me, what you became. You weren't always like that, but that's how it ended. You down in flames. And me? All I was left with was bitterness. I hated that too.

"So I started seeing somebody to help. It took me some time but I realized that I didn't want to live my life in bitterness. I needed to forgive you. AND THEN MOVE ON.

"Not accept you, not love you again, not respect you like I once did, not to be part of you. None of those things. But forgive and move on." Now it was me wiping tears from my eyes. These were things I never thought I'd ever say to him. Never thought he wanted to hear them. Never thought I'd ever speak to him, in real terms, real feelings, real honesty.

"Lucy, you came back for me. With all I did to you, you came back." He was wiping his eyes now. "I cannot say how sorry I am. Words cannot do it. You have always been a wonderful person. Problem is you fell in love with a weak fool. A full-of-himself fool. I gave up thinking about other people. It was always about me. Still is I think..."

"You're wrong." A question came across his face. "Tell me about that tree again?"

Then a smile came across his face. "I did choose the tree, didn't I?"

"What about your father? Don't you have plans for him too?" It was now a bittersweet smile. "What else have you done since you got a new knee?"

"To get out, I started volunteering at little league. Even started back at church. Does it count that I stay away from bars unless it's a business function?" He chuckled a bit.

"Bret, that doesn't sound self-absorbed. Sounds more like the Bret I used to know before he became lost." I could see Bret looking inside of himself. He started to look hopeful.

"By the way, John texted me earlier. He has a pair of visitors for you to meet sometime today. You'll have to wait to find out who they are. It's his surprise, not mine.

"Bret, we've both moved on. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think that there's an air of forgiveness about us now?" He nodded a yes. "I moved on, until I felt I was called back here. But you've been working on it too. Haven't you? Have you forgiven yourself?"

"I'm not there, yet. You showing up here has done a lot. Your gift to me...once again I am indebted to you. You forgive, you rescue and you helped me connect with my father." We both became quiet. The hardest part, the most difficult part, the closure part of our meeting was over. There was no longer any additional reason to see one another.

"So Lucy, is this where you say goodbye and ..."

"You're right. You're better and we have some closure. My job is calling me again. There's a redeye flight leaving at 1:30 tomorrow morning that'll get me to O'Hare before 6 AM. A stop at home and then on to work."

We talked for another half hour. Bret did not have much endurance. He was still pretty weak and needed to rest. I went out for lunch and then enjoyed the fresh air for two hours. I finally was getting some peace in my life with Bret. As bad as it was, as rotten he was, now seeing him come around back to the Bret I once knew. The trip was all worth it.

I got back to Bret's room by 1:20 and saw that he wasn't alone. John Martin was there with a blond woman of about 30 and a young Hispanic boy, less than 10 years old. The boy was wearing a Sammy Sosa baseball jersey. THE infamous baseball jersey?

Bret started, "Lucy, I'd like to introduce Rick and his mother Gracja, Grace. She grew up on Wood Street in John's old neighborhood, just off of Milwaukee Avenue. It was long after he moved out."

Gracja held out her hand to me. "Pleased to meet you. Bret saved Ricky by ramming the tree. He just got a new bike and wasn't paying attention. It took a couple of days, but Ricky finally told me about it and we went to the police to find out what happened. Officer Martin here got us together. I had to thank Bret personally. I don't know what I'd do if Ricky was hurt."

Bret asked about her and Ricky and she told us about her life. She's been a single monther. Her boyfriend started doing drugs and then moved up into selling after they moved from Chicago's cold winters to the warmth of San Francisco Bay area. He went back to his home town in Mexico after Ricky was conceived. He hasn't been heard of since. She's been taking care of Ricky while going to school and making ends meet. They have a little house and Ricky was doing well in school. She's had a difficult life, but there was no complaining. Turns out that for three weeks, Ricky was on one of the little league teams that Bret coached. She had to pull Ricky out of little league because her job switched shifts on her.

Bret's nurse came in saying that the doctors were there to talk about his condition and plans. Bret spoke up, "Lucy, could you stay for a bit on this? Gracja, John, could you wait?" Gracja and Ricky, along with John Martin were directed to the waiting room. A minute later, the doctors, discharge planner and the Social worker came in.

It was going to have to be a nursing home for a couple of days to a week for PT and until Bret was strong enough to take care of himself. It was going to be another couple of weeks until everything healed. His memory and cognitive abilities were rapidly returning. His fine motor skills were improving and two more days in the hospital with physical and occupational therapies were ordered. Not a bad outcome considering he hit a tree at about 25 mph on a motorcycle. The soft tail Harley bounced off a couple of rocks and cinder block walls as well as the tree. It could be a source for some parts now. The insurance company will be owning it.