M1911A1 - Aftermath Pt. 02

"So, tell me what happened," Janice prompted when she sat down.

I took a sip of tea as I gathered my thoughts, sighed heavily, and then told her about my weekend with Ray. To her credit, Janice listened quietly as I recalled my brief break from my marriage, and what I encountered when I returned home. She did not interrupt once, and her face was completely neutral as I related that entire story.

I flinched inside but kept my voice steady as I described everything that happened. Well, except for my plans to have Ray fuck me in front of Terry when we got home. That wasn't relevant. And the nightmare of Terry, since I didn't want her to think I was crazy.

And I didn't say anything about the fantasy I had shared with Ray about being the center of attention at an orgy for him and his friends. That was just a fantasy, really, and had no bearing on Terry's overreaction, since he couldn't have known about it. Well, until after he was... dead... anyway.

"And to think I considered you to be smarter than me," Janice said quietly when I finished. "After all, you became a big-shot lawyer. Married a man who busted his ass to support you while you finished college. Was your weekend worth the cost?"

Her tone was even, and emotionless, but to me, it almost felt like a slap across the face. "It was just supposed to be a brief break," I protested earnestly. "I told Terry it didn't mean anything. It was only sex. Something I needed to do before I got too old. Just one weekend. And he took the coward's way out." I snorted in contempt and stared at my cup, rather than look at my sister's expression.

Deep down I was... aware... that I had just lied to my sister. I had TOLD Terry it was just the one weekend, but I had planned for it to be, really, the first weekend of... more. But Terry hadn't known that at the time, so she didn't have to know it either.

"Just sex, huh? And you expected him to welcome you back with open arms as if nothing happened? Come on, little sister. You can't be that stupid," Janice said, maintaining the quiet mother-hen voice I had seen her use so effectively on her own children.

Suddenly, I resented it. I was NOT a child. I was a woman, and a darn sexy one. Hadn't I just proved that? I had come looking for affirmation that I was entirely justified, victimized, and inconvenienced and I had a sinking feeling which seemed to forewarn that I might not get everything I wanted. I glanced at her, and her expression made me... uneasy... as if she could read my mind.

Then the mother-hen tone returned like a stealthy whip... one that had invisible barbs.

"So, if Terry had come home and told you he was going off with a woman for the weekend before his attractiveness faded, would you have welcomed him home with open arms?"

I never considered that, and certainly wasn't expecting that kind of attack from my own sister; so I reflexively shot right back, "First off, Terry would NEVER cheat on me. He was NOT that kind of man. Second, I would destroy him in a divorce, and he knew it."

Even as I spoke, I realized how it sounded. I just admitted, beyond recall, that I was THAT kind of woman. If I'd been in a courtroom and just stuck my foot in it THAT deep, I would have called for a recess. Janice didn't even blink, and I realized that she knew me so well that she was expecting EXACTLY that response from me.

"I see. So, it's okay for you to play around, but not him. Is that right?" Janice asked, still in mother-hen mode.

"Of course not," I protested, off balance. "There was no reason for him to need more variety when he had me; I was the one who needed, deserved, more variety." Then I realized how much more I had given away and I winced and added hastily, "Besides, it was just a one-time thing."

"Was it, really? Or would you have taken it further? Maybe force Terry to watch, or accept sloppy seconds? Brought home a 'variety' of men?" my sister asked. I stared at her, my mouth hanging open. This, from my laid-back, traditional, OLDER sister? It was disorienting. "What, you think I don't know about that sort of thing because I work part-time at a library?"

"Have you done anything like that to Richard?" I asked, shocked.

"Of course not. I love and respect Richard far too much to do something like that. But I know others who have." Her implication was clear - that I no longer respected Terry was obvious, or I would never have done what I did.

"Oh? And what did their husbands do?" I asked, curious to hear her response.

"Most of them divorced their wives," Janice said, taking a calm sip of tea and then continuing in exactly the same tone. "Of course, some went further and outed their wives to family and friends, and emptied the family accounts. Burned them thoroughly. And you never answered my question. Was sex with this Ray Bland worth jeopardizing 24 years of marriage?"

I suddenly felt like someone had slapped me in the head in one of those old commercials and I understood the meaning of the $24 Terry left in our joint account - One dollar for every year we were married. Damn! Janice must've seen my sudden change of expression.

"What's the matter?" she asked, her eyebrows raised.

"Terry donated all but $24 of our joint account to a bunch of children's charities," I blurted out, by way of explanation as my mind grappled with the revelation.

"Oh really?" Janice responded, chuckling.

"That's not funny! We had six months' worth of bills in that account!" I exclaimed angrily.

"But you have to give him points for style," Janice said with a slight grin.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, my anger growing. Didn't she understand how much of a bind that put me in? At least half of that money was mine!

"You denied him the one thing he always wanted - children. So in his last act of defiance, he gave your money to children's charities, knowing how much you hate children," Janice replied, shrugging her shoulders and ignoring my outburst and agitation.

"I don't hate children. I just never wanted any," I protested sharply.

"Oh please, Helen. I'm not stupid. I've seen how you were with our kids. Why do you think they finally just left you alone? In fact, I don't think I've ever seen you with a child in your arms. It's always been obvious to us that you don't like kids."

"I just never wanted any of my own. It's my body, after all," I continued self-righteously.

"Yes, it is. And Terry respected that, even though I'm pretty certain you told him after the wedding." She sighed and set her cup down. "Too bad you didn't respect him nearly as much, is it?"

"That's not true. I respected and loved him," I protested, but it sounded weak, even to me.

"Really? If that's true, I'd hate to see what you would have done if you didn't," Janice observed. "In fact, I can't help but notice how stoic you are about his suicide."

That stung. "What am I supposed to do? I'm the one left behind! I have responsibilities. I have to pick up the pieces and move on. Breaking down won't change any of that," I said, now feeling more than a little irritated.

"No, it won't. But it might help you deal with his death. But you've never been one to show much emotion, have you? As I recall, you never shed a tear when Dad died." There was a long, awkward pause. Then Janice said, quietly, looking me in the eyes, "Which means that you are either bottling it all up inside and are a potential time bomb; or, you are a functional psychopath and are dangerous." Before I could react, she added, "Or you are just numb, deeply numb, for some reason, and it will leak out sooner or later."

"Emotion has never been my strong suit. You know that," I replied softly, pushing the discomfort sternly away.

"Yes, I do. So, what now?" Janice asked after another few uncomfortable moments of awkward silence.

"I guess I have no choice but to move on, do I?" I asked, and let some bitterness leak into my tone.

"No, you don't," Janice replied. "But Richard and I will be here for you if you need us. We may not approve of your choices, but you are family, and we still care about you."

"Thanks, Janice. I appreciate that," I said, suddenly truly grateful that my older sister still had some feelings for me, even if she might think I didn't deserve them. We spent the next hour or so engaged in small talk that made it easier for me to ignore all the concerns nagging at me and helped me feel a little better.

"Richard is on his way home," Janice said, glancing at a message that just popped up on her phone. "Would you like to stick around for dinner? I'm afraid it'll just be leftovers, though."

"Your leftovers are always good," I told her. "I'd love to stay."

We had a nice dinner and talked about everything except the 800-pound gorilla in the room, which suited me just fine. Richard wasn't anywhere near as talkative as usual but was at least mildly sympathetic.

When he first walked into the house, he nodded to me and shot a quick glance at Janice. They exchanged a rapid series of barely perceptible nods, fleeting eyebrow waggings, and nearly invisible shrugs. Deep, MARRIED, communication. I glanced away to hide my expression as I wondered when Terry and I had lost that and then buried it deeply. Maudlin musings wouldn't get my money back or pay the bills.

We got through the main course, which was lasagna. Janice had gotten so used to cooking for her whole family that she always made much more than they could eat. Then she brought out an apple pie which she baked herself. I always enjoyed her pies and graciously accepted a healthy slice.

We finished the evening with a small glass of wine and some light banter. Realizing I needed to leave, I thanked Janice for the meal and started for the door. Janice stopped me and wrapped her arms around me.

"We do love you, Helen," she murmured, hugging me tightly.

"Thanks," I stammered, taken by surprise. "I love you too."

"If there's anything you need, just call," Richard added quietly.

"Thank you," I told him. I left after we said our goodbyes and drove back to the hotel. When I returned to my room, I turned the television on for background noise, changed into a nightgown, and flopped into the bed.

My eyes were on the television, but my mind was reviewing my conversation with Janice. As I considered her words, I realized she was right - about everything. Was I really the uncaring and unemotional selfish bitch she made me out to be?

"Yes," I heard Terry answer, causing me to turn toward the voice in surprise. He leaned against the wall, looking down at me.

"How... Why are you here?" I asked, bewildered.

"That's easy. You fell asleep," he said with a slight sneer.

"I did?" I didn't recall that. The last thing I remember was hearing someone talking on the television. When had I fallen asleep? "Are you going to haunt my every dream?" I asked with a cold feeling in my stomach. I wouldn't last very long if I was afraid to fall asleep.

"That's the plan," he replied with a crooked smile, made even more crooked by the exposed parts of his skull.

"So, you really think I'm an uncaring unemotional selfish bitch?" I fired back, going on the offense, with more courage than I actually felt.

"Yes," Terry replied, unfazed. "Your actions make that obvious. Take a look," he added, nodding toward the television.

Surprised, I looked at the television... and I saw what looked like a movie of my life. Or at least select parts of it. After a few minutes, I felt a tear threaten to make its way down my face as I watched scenes from our marriage. We both looked so young and vibrant - and so full of love and happiness.

As the "movie" continued, I saw changes -- mostly in me, I reluctantly admitted. Terry was always there, lending support when I needed it. He worked so hard in those early years so I could finish school. We scrimped and saved, often eating grilled hamburgers Terry cooked up on an old gas stove in the tiny apartment we shared.

We didn't have much in those days, but we didn't seem to care. We had each other, and that was all that mattered. I got hired right after graduating and things really began to change. We saved enough for a down payment on a house and bought it when the market was still good.

There were a few more years of scrimping, but things slowly got better. As my career took off, I realized that children would only hold me back. I tried to turn my head away and couldn't. I had it thrust right into my face about how self-centered I became. As time went on, I barely noticed Terry's work, blew off his concerns and travails... and as for his personal dreams and needs, I stopped listening.

I wasn't that crazy about getting pregnant to begin with, but kept that from Terry. It was a conscious decision on my part. I could see it on my face, and remembered the logic I used all too well. When he mentioned children, I kept putting him off, using my career as an excuse.

"You should have been honest with me about not wanting children from the outset," Terry said from somewhere just out of sight, in such an emotionless tone that I felt goosebumps on my soul. "You knew I wanted kids," he growled as we watched the movie.

"I'm sorry," I stammered as the "movie" played. As my married life unrolled before my eyes, I could almost see an actual wall growing, brick by brick, between the two of us as time went on. Terry was always supportive of me, putting my desires over his own. At the same time, I saw myself losing respect for him.

When I looked at a bank statement and saw that one of my deposits was larger than his entire monthly earnings, things really went downhill. He was making good money, but I was making MORE. The fact that we, I, lived better with both our salaries rather than just mine alone didn't seem to mean anything to me. What was mine was mine, and what was his was mine, was the motto I lived by.

By this time, it was clear that I was the dominant partner in our marriage. Although Terry resented it, and now I could see exactly HOW MUCH he resented it, he continued to defer to my wishes silently. And he was committed to our marriage; to ME.

I actually saw him figuring out on our twelfth anniversary that he could live a decent life with his own money. But he realized that divorce was admitting defeat, and so he was not willing to upset the delicate balance in our relationship. Me? Well, let's just say, I reveled in my senior position in the marriage.

Perhaps that's one reason why I began coming on to Ray. By the time the physical affair began, I could see that I had NO respect left for my husband.

"Yeah. You are," Terry hissed. Then I realized it was a belated response to my apology. Where was this Terry when I needed him? Perhaps if he had been an asshole to me before I walked out last Friday, I wouldn't have done what I did.

Last Friday! Had it only been three days? It felt like it had been much longer. The next thing I knew, the alarm began beeping. I rolled over and turned it off. I looked with bleary eyes at the wall where Terry had been standing, but he wasn't there. Was it just a dream? Or was it something else? Was Terry right, and I was going to be permanently haunted?

I crawled out of bed, did my business, showered, and brushed my teeth. I almost didn't recognize the old woman's face in the mirror. I looked like crap. And I felt like crap. For as long as I had been in bed last night I should feel rested, but dead batteries had more vigor. I packed my things, dragged myself downstairs for breakfast, and then checked out.

The house smelled better than it had yesterday, but it still felt like a tomb. The master bedroom felt like a refrigerator, and when I walked by the couch it was like walking by an open freezer. I shivered even harder when I thought about actually sitting on it.

I had no idea what Terry would do. Could he do anything other than fill my sleep with nightmares? Did I want to find out? I walked around the place, keeping myself busy taking inventory of Terry's things.

Then it dawned on me - I needed to speak with Jerry Smith, the certified estate planning specialist in our firm. I knew he would probably rip me a new one for letting the bank know about Terry's death, but I wasn't too worried about it.

"I was wondering when you were gonna call," he said when he answered his phone. I briefly wondered what he might know about my... situation... other than that Terry was dead. I decided asking was a bad move and tried to keep my words and tone strictly business. I told him what I had already done, and he reassured me that he would take care of everything for me. It was a benefit of working for the law firm, and it would take a huge burden off my mind.

"Thanks, Jerry, I appreciate it," I told him. I tried to sound sincere, but I'm pretty certain I came across as exhausted.

"No problem. It's what I get the big bucks for. If you could, gather up all your financial stuff and bring it to me this afternoon. Think you can do that?" Jerry asked.

"Yeah. I'll be there. Is 3:00 okay?" I responded, glancing at the clock.

"Works for me," Jerry said.

I spent the rest of the morning gathering everything, including a copy of Terry's will. I was a little creeped out, as I periodically experienced cold gusts of air even though there were no doors or windows open. More than once, I heard creaking as if someone was walking up and down the steps.

I shrugged it off as nerves, and kept on until I had everything I needed. A nice hot shower helped calm me down, and I left the house after changing into something a bit less casual than jeans, but more casual than the business suits I normally wore.

When I arrived at the office, I noticed everyone looking at me funny, then quickly turning away when I returned their gaze. It was obvious they knew what Ray and I had done over the weekend. I could feel my cheeks starting to color and hurried on.

"Coming to work a little more casual these days, Helen?" I heard Wilson ask from behind me. I turned to see him smiling, but the smile didn't seem to touch his eyes, which were reserved.

"I came in to see Jerry about Terry's final arrangements," I told him, a bit defensively.

"That's about the smartest thing you've done since Friday," he replied in his even tone. "When you're finished, could you step into my office for a few minutes, please?"

"Of course," I said, suddenly nervous about the state of my career. He was an old-fashioned gentleman, but he was the managing partner, and I recognized an order when I heard it.

I finally got to Jerry's office, and he waved me inside with a somewhat forced smile. We shook hands and he offered a cup of coffee as I sat. After I took a sip, I pulled out my paperwork and handed it to him. We discussed everything as he looked over what I gave him.

"Everything looks like it's in order," Jerry said after going through my paperwork. "I'll take care of everything from here. Is there anything else you need?"

"Yes. I need to make changes to my will and my living trust," I told him.

"That makes sense," he said as he pulled my file. "I see your husband was listed as your beneficiary. He was also listed as the executor on your trust and your medical proxy."

"I'd like my sister, Janice Hopkins, listed instead," I told him. "And I'd like to give her power of attorney - just in case."

"Very well. Just pencil everything in and initial. You know what to do. I'll make the changes. It shouldn't take more than a day or so to take care of that."

"Thanks, Jerry," I said before we wrapped up our meeting. From there, I walked to Wilson's office. His secretary waved me inside and I couldn't help but notice the snide look she gave me, as if I were a large dung beetle, rolling my unpleasantness around the office in front of me.

"Helen, come inside. Have a seat," Wilson said with a pleasant smile. "How are you holding up?" he asked kindly after I sat down.