February Sucks - My Sequel

"Yes," she said, "but that didn't matter, because..."

I interrupted, "Have you had your period since that night?"

She bristled, "I'm not pregnant."

I said, "You know Linda that would make a world of difference."

Almost under her breath she reiterated, "I'm not pregnant."

I believed she was. I asked, "What about fellatio?"

She looked up, "Dee told you didn't she."

I said, "Nice going Linda. Oh and he didn't take you anally. Dee said he could've through."

"All right," she said, "I'm a whore. Is that what you want to hear?"

I said, "Why no Scheherazade, you weren't a whore, you were his wife. Right?"

"Jim, I... Jim..., she sighed, "That was a fantasy. It was just something... in the moment. It didn't mean anything. It was play acting."

I didn't reply to that. I had something else I needed to ask. I said, "You remember the first time we did anything."

She got a dreamy look on her face, but I didn't believe her when she said, "Yes." It was worse actually; I thought she might've been thinking about her sex with the football player. I wondered if she ever remembered the field and the blanket at all. I said, "You're thinking of him aren't you."

She didn't say anything.

I asked her, "Between when we did it out in that field, and..." I stopped, "Do you remember the field?"

She replied, "Of course I remember the field."

I asked, "Do you? Really"

"Yes," she said, almost angrily. "I remember the field."

I scoffed, "I don't believe you. Do you even remember our honeymoon?"

She softly reproved, "Of course I remember our honeymoon. What do you take me for?"

"A liar, a cheat, and a treacherous bitch," I said, "but tell me, between that time in the field and February 20th, had you ever done anything with another man?"

She looked confused for a second. Had she forgotten what night it was? She looked away, "No never. I was faithful."

I didn't believe her. I couldn't believe anything she said. Her fidelity, like a lot of things, had become a moot point. She wasn't my wife anymore, not the one I thought I'd married. I remembered that night at the restaurant sitting at that table surrounded by nine other people all staring at me. The woman I knew then would never have left me; no, that woman had died, she'd walked out and left me back in February. That woman had drifted off into the fog, into the eternal darkness. That woman was dead. The woman in front of me now was somebody else, somebody I didn't know, an apparition. How do you talk to a ghost? Sitting right where I was, right now, in my kitchen, holding a cup of coffee, I felt that same gnawing feeling of emptiness deep in the pit of my stomach. I recalled how alone and how naked I felt that night, and that same feeling, like a poisoned cloud, was enveloping me, suffocating me all over again. I knew I could never forgive this woman.

Then I lied and said, "I met a guy at the Willing Mind a month or so ago. I admit he was a little drunk and a prick, but he said he knew you were my wife. He said he got you while we were in college."

Upset, she grimaced. Through clenched teeth she murmured, "He was lying."

I told her, "He said the two of you did it while I was away on active duty with the Reserves."

Linda's face turned bright red, then ashen grey. Beads of perspiration crept out on her forehead. She said, "So what. Maybe something happened. It was over ten years ago. We weren't married. You were away. I wasn't sure..."

I was stunned. I'd made the story up! I said, "You know you're right. Your tryst with the football player kind of negates everything anyway doesn't it? I mean all the past, our past, has been swept away."

To keep from breaking down I breathed a deep sigh, then said, "My wife, my Linda is dead. I don't know who you are."

She was beaten. She slumped in her chair and mumbled, "I only know I love you."

I believed that, but it didn't matter. Anyway, I wasn't quite through. I asked her, "I was wondering, sometimes when there's a sordid sexual event like the one you and your football player had there's a gift, a memento, a reminder. Did your football player give you anything?"

She clutched the cross on her necklace, "You know he did, it wasn't sordid, and he's not my football player."

I nodded and said, "No he is, and it was incredibly sordid. Sleazy would be a better word." My stomach was reading me the riot act, and my head felt like it was going to explode. I needed another pill, or a drink or something. If I could hit something or break something?

She added, "You want me to get it and show it to you?"

I wasn't going to make it. "No," I said, "You keep it, it's yours. You earned it."

She broke down. She started to cry.

I got up and went to the bathroom down the hall, closed the door, locked it, and turned out the light. I sat on the toilet seat and held my stomach. I started to cry too, but stifled it back. I felt like I was on a foreign planet. I remembered that night, I was back there all over again! I remembered walking down the sidewalk to the hotel where we'd taken a room. I remembered feeling like I was stripped of all my clothing and everybody was looking at me. Here I was; it was happening all over again! Words, like shark's teeth, kept piercing my soul, horrid thoughts kept exploding in my mind. I was standing at the side of my wife's open grave as they lowered her casket in the ground; anguish, woe, grief, agony, pain, despair, oh the excruciating unalloyed ache of loss, of abandonment! Trapped. I was trapped. I was shackled to an anchor and being dragged into the abyss! All around was loneliness, darkness, and desolation! I felt so terribly alone.

I heard her walk over to the bathroom and sit down outside the door. She was still crying, "Jim I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Let me in. Please let me in. Hold me Jim. Please Jim. I need you to hold me. I love you Jim. I love you so much."

I didn't believe her. I couldn't believe her. She loved nothing! She despised the sunlight. She embraced the darkness! She was the embodiment of all that was malicious and foul.

I didn't know how long it lasted. I sat inside the bathroom on the seat and mourned the death of all deaths, the death of happiness, the end of life, the debasement of all that was good. Outside Linda sat on the floor and cried. I didn't listen. I couldn't listen. I refused to hear her. If I opened the door it wouldn't be Linda; it would be a Gorgon. It would be Medusa, and if I looked at her I'd be turned to stone.

Then beyond my grief something intruded. I didn't rightly hear it, but the front door must've opened. I heard Linda's mother, "My God Linda. What's wrong?"

The world came crashing down. Like the helpless victim of a hurricane I was sitting in the midst of the debris of my life, but I knew I had to get up. I had to move forward, into the storm.

I stood up and opened the door. There was my mother-in-law with Linda draped around her knees still crying. Our children were standing beside the two of them, wild eyed and crazy with fear.

We were in the throes of another terrible horror. I stepped forward toward my unhappy wife, her parents, and my frightened children. I asserted bravely, "It's been a tough day Mr. and Mrs. Westervelt. Perhaps you'd like to help your daughter into the kitchen. I'll take care of the kids."

Mrs. Westervelt nodded, leaned down and helped Linda to her feet, "Come on honey. Jim and daddy will take care of the children." With that she tried to herd her daughter away.

Linda wouldn't hear it, "I want my babies," she wailed. She fell back to her knees. She reached toward the children, "I need my babies."

I looked at Linda's mom and dad, "Why don't the two of you go in the kitchen. The coffee's pretty fresh. I'll be along in a minute." Linda was slumped on the floor sobbing.

Mrs. Westervelt looked confused, but Mr. Westervelt took her arm, "Come on. Let's see what they've got in the Frig. I'm hungry." Mrs. Westervelt looked down at her daughter, then started to move away.

I thought, 'Thank God for practical men.' I stepped forward and pulled Linda up to my side. I grabbed Tommy's hand. "Emma," I said, "There's some ice cream in the freezer. Get the vanilla. Get Grandfather to give you four bowls, four spoons, the scooper, and put it all on a tray. Don't try to bring it upstairs, but bring it in the living room. I'll get it once I get mommy and Tommy settled."

Linda stopped crying. She leaned against me. Sniffling, she pressed her head on my shoulder, "Jim", she sobbed.

I told Tommy, "Go up to Emma's room. We'll eat there."

He said, "Mommy's really crying."

"Yes," I said. "She's had a bad time, but we'll get her straightened out." I could feel her soft and warm against my side. The crisis was past. I was in charge.

Linda murmured, "I'm all right."

I gave her a stern look, "No you're not. You've had a very bad experience. Now be quiet and let me help you upstairs."

"Jim...I" she started.

I said, "Shut up. Put your arm around me. Help me help you up the steps." I half lifted, half pulled her up the steps while Tommy followed awkwardly behind. I got the two of them into Emma's room, went back downstairs, got the ice cream, and Emma and I walked back upstairs.

Emma asked, "Is mommy all right?"

I kissed the top of her head and told her, "She's had a tough time, but I think if everybody does what they're told things will be OK."

Emma hugged my legs, "I love you daddy."

I thought, 'The purity of children.' Emma was so beautiful, ash blond hair, blue eyes, she looked like an angel. I smiled and said, "Me too you sweetheart."

I got everybody on Emma's bed and turned on her TV. "Now," I said, "I'm going to scoop everybody out some ice cream, and we're all going to eat every bit of it."

Tommy and Emma were still scared, but acted pleased. Linda stupidly said, "I'm not hungry. I don't..."

I interrupted her with a stern look and a wave of two fingers, "Be quiet Mommy and eat your ice cream." I handed her the first bowl.

Linda gave me a sheepish look. I turned to Emma, "Put in our favorite movie."

She got up, found "Frozen:" and inserted it in her video machine.

I said, "Now we're all going to have a good time."

It didn't turn out quite that way. Within ten minutes both kids were sound asleep. Linda sat there like a spoiled child. She wouldn't eat. She wouldn't talk. I got her to stand quietly while I moved the ice creams around, and tucked in the kids. Then I took Linda by the shoulder and walked her across and down the hall to our bedroom. I straightened the still rumpled sheets, and undressed her. She was so warm and soft. 'Tell me,' I thought, 'How could you do it? How could you wipe away ten years?' I pushed her down on the bed, "Stay there till I get back."

She started to get up, "My..."

I firmly but gently pushed her back down, "I said lie down."

She whimpered, "Jim I..."

I told her, "Linda just shut up. Here, take my pillow. Get comfortable. I'll be up later. I expect you to be asleep when I come back."

"Jim," she said.

"Linda," I said.

She plumped her pillows and lay down. I said, "Good girl." I went back to Emma's room, checked the kids, retrieved the ice cream and accoutrements, and went downstairs to see her parents. They were waiting in the kitchen.

Mrs. Westervelt spoke first, "Is there anything we can do?"

"Just be available," I said.

"This is still about the football player isn't it," Her father said.

"Yes sir," was my answer.

Mrs. Westervelt commented, "I still can't believe she could do such a thing. I mean walking away from everything."

"She did," I said.

Her father said, "You're not going to leave her are you? I hope you don't. She needs you so."

I said, "I don't know what I'm going to do."

Mrs. Westervelt was getting fidgety, "Come on Bartlett. Let's leave Jim and Linda to work things out."

Bartlett was Linda's father's first name. He rolled his eyes at his wife, then spoke to me, "If you need anything. I mean anything."

"I know," I said. "I'll take care of things."

I walked them both to the door. We all wished each other a goodnight, and I trudged back upstairs. Linda was lying there pretending to be asleep. "Linda," I said, "you're not asleep."

"No," she said. "I wish I was dead."

I sat down on the bed beside her. All the pain was gone, only numbness remained. I answered, "Already been there." I undressed myself, and lay down beside her. She started to squirm backward until her ass and back were pressed against me. I put my left arm around her and whispered, "You know this doesn't mean anything."

She sighed and whispered, "Just hold me Jim."

I did, and we went to sleep.

-----V-----

I was the first one up the next morning. It was a Saturday, I went downstairs and fixed cheesy scrambled eggs, scrapple, sausage patties, and toast.

Linda came down shortly thereafter and said, "My, this is nice."

Without thinking I said, "It's not caviar, but it'll do."

She turned and ran back upstairs.

The kids came down a little after that. Emma asked, "Where's mommy?"

I said, "Mommy's still sick, so we better leave her alone.

And so things went on from there.

-----V-----

I left the house early; I needed to see granddad again. I got to the old farmhouse and found him out in one of the barns, there were two. He was mucking out one of the stalls; he still had two old horses. I found him and said, "Morning Granddad."

He stopped long enough to say, "Morning."

I said, "I thought about what you said."

He stopped what he was doing, arched his back and said, "Man this is killing me. I'm too old for some of this." He put the rake down, reached in his pocket, pulled out the Beechnut and asked, "Want some?"

Shook my head no.

Then he asked, "What have you decided?"

I asked him, "Grandma still doesn't know anything?"

"Not a thing," he replied, "She wants you and your family out for a little barbecue."

"Isn't it a little soon, what with the weather, for a barbecue," I said.

"Maybe," he responded, "she won't be doing any of the outside cooking."

"I'll tell Linda." I took the rake and started to work on the stall. If there was one thing I hated about horses, it was having to muck out their stalls. I asked again, "You want to know what I decided?"

He reached up and started to pick his nose, but stopped, "All right, what have you decided?"

I answered him, "I thought we could move out here. I could help out with the farm work, and Linda could fill in with grandmother."

Granddad shook his head, "That'd probably be too much on your grandmother. She'd want to be involved in everything you and the kids did." He scratched his chin, "What we could do though is build you a house over there in the woods." He pointed to a copse of trees, "The ground's good, perks out nice. It'd be shady in the summer, and the trees would break the wind in winter." He looked directly at me, "I'd foot the bill."

"I didn't mean that," I said, "About the money I mean. I meant I wanted to get my family away from the suburbs. It's better out here." I went on, "I've thought about what we could do. You know the suburbs keep creeping out this way. It won't be long before some of the farmland around here will go up in housing. There could be money in a fruit stand. They've got em all over, south of here. Plus, on some of the hillier terrain we could put down evergreens. We could start our own tree farm. I'd like to sharecrop some of the acreage out to the Flaherty's; they've got a good reputation with that. I could hold on to my job and still do all the things the farm would need, plus Linda could find something helping people out here." I smiled and added, "Of course we'd keep the horses."

Granddad took off his straw hat and wiped his forehead with an old hankie. "Sounds like you're thinking about longer term than just your grandmother."

I replied, "The ground's yours. I wouldn't want it right away. When grandma dies I could still divorce Linda and keep on right here. You'd have to work something out with Stephen and Mallory. They're family, and I wouldn't want them to feel like I stole something."

Granddad grunted and took the rake back, "I'll pay Stephen off with money. As for Mallory; she's got her store in the city. I'm the one who set her up. I could sweeten the pot a little, but I'm sure she'd go along. You know she's not as crazy as everybody thinks." He looked out at the woods; there had to be forty acres, give or take. "You know," he said, "We could sell firewood."

'Firewood,' I thought, 'Maybe there was something there?' Mallory was my crazy narcoleptic little sister who had a kind of gift shop-book store on Main Street in town. I'd heard it was doing well. "You think that'll work granddad?"

He stopped mucking, "Your father will probably have something to say; he's never shown any interest in the farm, but when there's money, you know people can get funny. If we did what you said about 'truck farming' and selling Christmas trees, we could probably bring him in. We might even get Stephen interested." He kicked a basket that had been lying on the ground near the door, "You good with a house in the woods?"

I answered, "I'll tell Linda."

"What if she doesn't like it," he asked?

I unconsciously scratched my crotch, "If she doesn't, I'll still stay married but move out here. She'll have to come along."

"You think so," he said.

I said, "Yes sir, I do."

Granddad said, "I'll call around. We'll want a builder. We might need some permits or something about changes to the farm."

We shook hands. I said, "Thanks granddad. I'll get back to you as soon as I can." I started to walk away.

He waved, "Stop in the house and see your grandmother."

I did, and left after a hot cup of coffee, a piece of cherry pie, and long talk coupled with a big hug and kiss.

On the way back I got a text. Mr. Fielding wanted me to stop by the office when I had a chance. I did. When I was there he asked me if I was still interested in transferring. I'd forgotten I said that. He told me the company was opening up a warehouse in Reno, Nevada. I told him I'd get back to him, but I was pretty sure I'd end up saying no, it was another option though.

I get a text from Mallory.

Granddad and I had mentioned Mallory. And wouldn't you know it, I got a text. I read it, "Was at Mom and Dad's. They're up to something. L.W. was there. It was about you. Watch out!"

Jesus, I wondered what they had up their sleeves. Whatever it was I was sure, if it was about me, they'd try to bring Linda into it.

Regardless, my next stop was my parents. I'd bought an old trailer and stored it at dads; the old pram was out behind the house. I planned on loading it up and taking it home. Tommy, Emma and I were going fishing! I also had some errands to run; there was a little matter of a used sunfish for sale sitting at a small pier at one of the nearby lakes, and I wanted to look it over. If I bought it I could teach the kids the rudiments of sailing. Sure a sunfish wasn't exactly a thirty foot ketch, but they were fun and I'd been told, easy to maintain.

-----V-----

When I got home it was late in the afternoon. Linda was bustling and running this way and that. She stopped long enough to catch her breath and say, "Your mom and dad called. They want to take us out to dinner tonight. Mrs. Porter said she'd sit. I laid out your grey pinstripe."

I hadn't been asked, but one look at Linda and I knew this had something to do with my parents and L.W. Ok, I'd play along. "When do they want us and where are we going," I asked?

Linda answered, "We're supposed to meet them at the Morrison at eight. They've made the reservations."

'Yeah, something's up,' I thought. I answered, "OK, I'll shower and get ready."