Coming Home?

No underage inappropriate behavior here, just a story.

There was the familiar chirp from the tires as my plane touched down on the north runway at Dulles International Airport and I looked out at the familiar sight of the Saarinen designed terminal. I've always admired that curved roof; in fact, it had inspired me to go to college for engineering. Which is what I do now. I just completed overseeing a big project in Argentina for my college friend's firm and now after a few years away, I was coming home. Why, I wasn't certain, and to tell the truth, I was more than a little apprehensive.

You see, I had pretty much "run away" from here three years earlier, and left a lot of people wondering the "3 W's" WHY, WHERE, WHAT? Oh, I told my family I was leaving and why, I just neglected to tell my wife and friends, although they figured out most of the WHY soon enough.

I shuffled off the Delta 767 with 200 other folks, made my way to Customs, and after getting a "welcome home" from the agent, I walked through the doors to Baggage claim. There I turned on my phone and texted my sister Charlene that I'd be out in 15 minutes or so.

"I'm already here at the cell phone lot. Followed your flight on FLIGHT AWARE and knew you were getting in earlier. Let me know when you're done." Char texted back.

Char still lives in our home town about 30 minutes from the airport. Small town atmosphere when we were growing up, but development and suburbia have inched closer and closer each year. Seems you can't stop progress, although I certainly wouldn't call bulldozing prime farmland and 200-year-old estate houses progress.

So, what's my problem you're wondering. I'm Connor, 29, and pretty average looking. Yeah, I'm 6 foot tall, 190, but I'm not ripped, women don't swoon over my charming good looks, or want to run their fingers through my curly blond hair. Hell, maybe when I was 17 and still had a full head of hair, but now it's starting to thin and I'm staring at 30 wondering what's next.

I was even beginning to question whether this was a good idea coming home, but Keith, my second-best friend from High School was getting married and wanted me there. Besides, other than Zoom and Skype calls with my folks, I hadn't seen them since that day 3 years ago when I packed my shit and left. Yes, my Mom and Dad tried to get me to stay and not do anything rash, but I just needed to get the hell out of town. Other than stopping by my older sister Chrissy's house to say goodbye, I hadn't talked to anyone else that day. I just jumped in my F250 and drove off. Stopped at Keith's house and got him to drive me to the airport, and then take my truck back to my parent's house.

Now I was back. I promised Keith I'd be his best man and I couldn't let him down.

While I had hoped not to run into her while I was back, the reality was that Keith's fiancé was friends with her, and I'm sure she felt like she had to invite her to the wedding. I figured being part of the wedding party I could mostly keep my distance, but that didn't mean I wouldn't run into her around town. Two weeks was a long time, and it was still a small town. Even though I had told Keith, as well as my folks I didn't want to hear about her, I knew she was still in town.

You're wondering what the hell is going on? Well, that's a long story. Or maybe not if you're more of the TLDR type. Had a girl, married her, she lied, and cheated, I left. There, I said it. She cheated. Broke my heart. But I need to back up half a lifetime or so...

Meg was her name, still is, I guess. Seventh grade we met the first day of class. Back then High School was 7-12 as our school district was not that big. Her family had moved into the area over the summer and as I later found out, she lived just a few blocks away. I hardly noticed her the first week, but there was something about the way she talked, her smile, and the fact that she was obviously smart. Well, it only took about a week before I realized she was in 5 of my 7 classes. Somehow, we got to talking and before long we were an "item" if you can call it that.

Yeah, yeah, at that age kids hook up, "go together" and break up all within a week or two along with lots of associated drama. That was never us. We just seemed to click as friends, and as time went on our classmates just naturally assumed we were a couple. I guess it was the summer before 9^th grade, we were both 14 and the latest Star Wars movie had come out and we both wanted to see it. I don't remember who first suggested we go together to see it, but my Dad drove us to the cinema, dropped us off and said to have a nice date. As he was driving away, we both looked at each other and the proverbial penny dropped.

I reached for her hand about the time she reached for mine, and from that day on we really were a couple. And Best Friends. Well, until three years ago. Meg had that wholesome girl next door look; you know, dirty blond hair in a ponytail, blueish gray eyes, a few freckles, nice curves, but not the hotty that the football players chased after. And besides we were always together. I know she got asked out a few times by upperclassmen, but she always turned them down.

I found out later she told them her father wouldn't let her date until she was 17. One guy a year ahead of us didn't take that so well when he saw us out together in my father's car the week I turned 16 and got my license. Called her a tease, and asked why she was hanging with a loser like me. She just took me by the hand and pulled me along as she walked off. Back then I was still only about 5'8 and 130 pounds; not quite wimp material, but not solidly built either.

Anyway, we dated all through High School, and once we turned 18 we could sign ourselves out of school and go off campus. We would go down to the river and sit and talk until it was time to go back for Calculus class. And yes, we took each other's virginity the night we graduated. While we were serious about each other we also wanted to get our degrees. We even went to separate colleges, me for engineering and Meg for teaching; Virginia does have great universities. Those four years were interesting. We had agreed to date other people, and we did occasionally, or at least I did, but by the end of our junior year we knew we didn't want anyone else and we got engaged.

A year later we graduated, started working, and planned our wedding for the following June. She had gotten a job teaching at the local private school and I was working for a large general contractor in the area. It was mostly office work, but I had to go out in the field occasionally. One of my engineering classmates Matt's family had a big contracting business that did a lot of overseas work and he suggested I come talk to his father, but I really wanted to stay in the area, and we had always planned to live near where we were raised.

Life was good. We had rented a small house and moved in together. Neither of our parents were wild about that, but they also knew we were totally in love with each other and weren't going to "wait" to be married.

The wedding went off without a hitch, we had a great honeymoon in Bermuda and came home relaxed, looking forward to the next 50 years. A few years passed and we were saving up for a house and talking about starting our family as we had both turned 26 that year. In hindsight that was probably the start of things that eventually blew up in my face. By now we had been together for over 10 years as a couple, married for over 2 and it just felt right to start our family. Or at least working on trying to start, if you catch my drift! Sex had never been an issue with us and while we were never going to be a threat to the porn movie trade, we did have an active and varied sex life.

Meg however, was... reticent about wanting kids just yet and seemed, I don't know, reluctant to commit to getting pregnant, and we started having little snit fits with one another. Not often, not big blowups or knock down drag out fights, just, a little edgy with each other, her seemingly more so than me.

Things were kind of tense and then one day I stopped at the CVS on my way home from work to pick up a prescription for my folks and Carl the pharmacist said, "oh hey, I've got Meg's if you want it too." (HIPPA rules regardless, this IS a small town!)

"Okay" I said, wondering what she was getting a prescription for. And then I saw the label. It was her birth control pills. The ones she had "stopped" taking a few months before. What the hell, I thought. And she's been giving me crap and still taking the pill?

I got in my truck and headed home thinking we needed to have a talk about this. I walked in to the kitchen where Meg was fixing dinner and tossed the bag on the kitchen table. "Why would you still be getting your birth control pill prescription filled?"

Meg, spun around and said, "Oh, they must have that on automatic refill." But her eyes said something different. Like, she needed to come up with an excuse.

I looked at her and said, "why don't I believe you? You've been off the pill for 5 months now, or so you said, and I would have thought CVS would have stopped the refill by now"

She mumbled something about it just being a mix-up, and turned back to the stove.

I dropped the subject but decided to just see what happened and what she did with the prescription.

Anyway, I was working on a project about an hour away and lately often didn't get home until after 9pm. Meg had made friends with a number of the women at the school where she taught and every couple of Friday's they'd go out for a few drinks, maybe dinner and a little dancing. About once a month they had some after school meeting on a weekday and the same women would go out for dinner and drinks afterwards. I was glad she had a social life aside from me, and I would go fishing with Keith and a few other guys occasionally or just hang out watching a ball game.

Things in the Tucker household were pretty great for the most part or so I thought. And then came the day I came home early and my world imploded. This was about a week after the Birth Control discussion.

As I found out later, Meg had gone out with the girls after school to the local TGIFridays to celebrate the end of the fall quarter and had a bit to drink. Rob was there also with some friends and had come over to the ladies table and started talking with them. When things were starting to break up for the evening, one of the other teachers thought that Meg was a little too tipsy to drive and suggested Rob drive her home. Now Rob, Rob was that guy from High School that always wanted to date Meg, and while he put on a good act of being polite and friendly, I had always seen him for the snake he really was.

I came home early that Wednesday evening, about 7:30, and as I turned on to our street, I saw Rob pulling out of our driveway in his Camaro and going off the opposite direction.

I walked in the house and Meg was looking disheveled; her makeup was smeared, her blouse was unbuttoned, and her skirt was on the floor with her shoes. It was pretty obvious something had occurred that wasn't wifely. She took one look at me and burst into tears.

"What the hell is going on here and why" I asked her.

She just shook her head and said "I'm sorry, I don't know why it happened."

"Why did I just see Rob driving down the street; he doesn't live near here." I could barely get the words out.

Meg, just sobbed and said, "I'm sorry, I can't believe I did this. Please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."

I don't really recall what was said; I just stood there for several moments and then turned and walked out the door.

Meg blew up my phone with messages begging me to come home. She was sorry, she didn't know what happened or why, but just come home and talk to me.

Her friend Trish called me and left multiple voice messages the gist of which I surmised that a lot of alcohol was involved and some less than well meaning encouragement from some of the women at the table.

I had gone back home to my parent's house and was basically like a zombie; I couldn't imagine why, or what I was going to do. All I could think was that I needed to get away. Home, or my idea of home in that small town suddenly looked like the last place in the world I wanted to be. My Mom tried to get me to talk to Meg who by now had called, repeatedly. Thankfully Mom had told her it might not be a good idea to come over to the house. She and Meg had always been close since we were in High School and I think Mom was almost as devastated as I was at the idea of Meg cheating or doing anything inappropriate.

Mom and Dad were worried and tried to talk me into staying with them for a while so Meg and I could talk, and maybe see a counselor.

"Just take a few days to think, talk with Meg, there's got to be more to this than what you know or think happened." My Dad meant well, and in hindsight he probably was right. I just couldn't do it. I felt like the world was closing in on me, I almost started hyperventilating and was sweating. I just knew I needed to get away. Out of the house, out of town, out of sight.

Somehow, I got a few hours sleep that night and when I woke up, I hopped in my truck and drove out to Skyline Drive. On a clear day you can see for miles, but over the years the smog, haze, and humidity had reduced the visibility, but on that fall day it was crystal clear. The leaves hadn't changed yet but the leaf lookers were already out. I pulled over at an overlook and sat for probably 2 hours wondering what I was going to do.

As I was scrolling through my phone contacts, I saw Matt's number and for some reason I thought to call him. He was glad to hear from me, and after general chitchat I told him that I needed a change and why. He was stunned as he remembered how close Meg and I were whenever she came to see me at school. "Matt, would you still be interested in having me come work for you and your Dad?"

"Well Connor, you could not have timed this call any better. We just started a project in Argentina and I need to replace one of our guys. He's coming home to deal with a family emergency, so he's going to work here on local projects, but I still need a guy down there. Would you be interested?"

"Sure, but my Spanish is pretty bad." I said. "How soon would I have to leave?"

"You've got a passport, right? We've got lodging and transportation all lined up. I'm flying down day after tomorrow to check on things. Can you be ready to fly then?"

"Matt, tell me where to meet you and when, I'm there!"

"Okay, how about you come over tomorrow, we'll square away all the paperwork and set you up with payroll and health insurance. Bring your bags and plan on staying at my place and we'll fly out the next day. And Connor, thanks, I'm really glad you called, and I'm looking forward to having you on board."

So that's what happened. I drove back to my folk's house, packed a couple of duffel bags of clothing, my laptop, and a few odds and ends, and said my goodbyes. Chrissy came over that night to see how I was doing, and I called Charlene at school and said I was leaving and didn't know when I'd be back. They were stunned and said I was making a big mistake. Char especially got upset with me. Meg had called her as they had always been close and tried to explain. I just told Char I didn't want to hear about it.

I called my boss and explained the situation and that I just needed to get away. He wasn't wild about having to replace me on short notice, but we had always had a good relationship and he told me to call if I decided to come back, and wished me good luck.

And that's how I ended up on a red-eye flight to Buenos Aires with Matt. I quickly fell in love with the country, the job went well, and the project was extended. Three years went by and I hardly noticed. I became fairly fluent in Spanish, loved the food (great beef!) and even found some female companionship. I wasn't looking for anything long term and was always careful to use a condom. I had no desire to get saddled down.

All things must come to an end as they say; the projects were winding down, my folks were having some health issues, and frankly I missed Virginia. Maybe not Meg, or even my hometown, but... yeah, I missed home.

What became of Meg you're wondering? Well, I was able to file for divorce and had a lawyer handle it all back home. No, I didn't BTB like some guys do, I just filed under irreconcilable differences; in Virginia you wait 6 months since we didn't have kids, the judge rubberstamps it, and that's that. Meg got a lawyer and tried to fight it, but there really wasn't anything she could do. We had no kids, had only been married a couple of years and counseling isn't mandatory. So, about 8 months after that fateful day we were divorced. My lawyer emailed me a day or so later with the news. It had been another hard day at work; they all were actually, and I cried a few tears, drank too many beers, and crashed into a deep sleep.

As I said earlier, I Skyped with my folks and my buddy Keith, so I kept up on the important stuff back home, and how the Nationals were doing. I had pretty much stopped following the Redskins by then; as long as Dan Snyder owned them, they'd always be a mediocre team. Keith did tell me that Rob was overheard talking about taking Meg home and intimating that he got something from her. Bragging or truth, he didn't know, but it didn't paint Meg in a good light. Then a year or so after the divorce was final, I was talking with Char and she mentioned she had seen Meg out on a date a few times with some guy, but she didn't look really happy.

"You know Meg and I were close; she was like an older sister to me and while she was smiling, it just wasn't a real honest smile. You know, the kind where your eyes sparkle?"

I just said nothing, because I did know that smile. The silence must have prompted Char.

"Connor, you can't run away from her forever. I know she hurt you, but she's hurting too. You really need to talk to her. You're not going to get over her until you deal with things and forgive her even if you don't get back together."

Jeezus, how did my kid sister get so smart?

"Char, you're probably right, but every time I think about things, I just want to puke. Besides I'm busy down here, and the days are long; hard, but productive."

Deep down I knew she was right though; I was still a broken, hurt guy, and I didn't want to end up a bitter old man when I was 40. I had gone out on a few dates, but really just didn't have the interest in a relationship, and eventually the women I dated stopped returning my calls.

And that's the story. How I ended up divorced, living out of the country for 3 years, and not sure how I fit in with the old crowd in my hometown.

Well, the first surprise I got was when Charlene pulled up in my old F250. She jumped out and about knocked me over.

I gave Char a bear hug and she leaned back and looked at me.

"You look different and not just 3 years older. I didn't realize from our Zoom chats how much you had filled out. You're tan too!"

"Yeah, that's what working outside does for you. I was still pushing papers a lot, but I got my hands dirty most days too."

"Hey big brother, look what I'm driving!" she laughed. "Dad thought it would be a hoot if I came to pick you up in your own truck. Especially since you wouldn't ever let me drive it!"

"Well, hell I guess since you're picking me up, I can't argue. Just don't get used to it. I'm going to need wheels."

I tossed my bags into the back of the 4-door cab and hopped into the front seat.

"Does that mean you're staying for a while," she asked with a rather questioning look on her face.

"I don't know, I need some time to unwind and figure out what I want to do next. Matt really wants me to go to Brazil and oversee another job, but I'm not sure."