Meredith

George jumped up and grabbed Mr. Sullivan's hand. "Mr. Sullivan," he exclaimed!

Mr. Sullivan fell over on the table top.

Out came George's I-Phone. He hit 911. A service lady responded. George yelled into the phone, "The Bob Evans on Westminster Avenue. Heart attack! Come quick! Hurry!" He looked about. Several people were watching.

His waitress came over, "Is he all right? Is there anything I can do?"

"I don't know," replied George." It's his heart."

The waitress responded, "I'll get someone."

George answered, "I already called 911."

"OK," said the waitress. She dashed off.

George looked at Mr. Sullivan. He was down and out, maybe already dead. What to do? What to do? George pulled the man to the floor. Ripped open his shirt, and started that... cardiopulmonary thing. He went to work. OK, breaths - two breaths. Down to his mouth, air way, clear the air way. Ok, that done, do the breaths, two breaths. Next, start pumping. George started. He remembered, thirty times. OK, one, two, three... He heard the sirens. Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one. He heard something. A gasp? A gasp! He heard a gasp! Keep pounding! Keep pounding!

The paramedics were there. They had that machine! That... whatever it was? Oh shit who cared. He fell backward. One of the paramedics was on the job. Another one, a woman had George, "You all right sir? What's your name?"

He replied, "George, George Mason."

She asked, "What day is it sir?"

"Thursday," he said.

He was wrong. She got him on the floor, "Try to stay calm." She looked at a third paramedic, "Let's get some oxygen here." Down at George again, "What's your date of birth sir?"

George had that, "March 8th, 1980."

She asked, "Where do you live?"

He gave his address.

She'd already had his vitals. He seemed to be OK. She smiled, "We're taking you in. Is that all right?"

He nodded, then asked, "Mr. Sullivan?"

She replied, "He's alive. You're the man who called. You saved his life. Congratulations."

George asked, "May I please have a glass of water?"

The paramedic looked to a nearby waitress, "May we have some water please?"

After a couple hours at the hospital George was released. On his way out he checked at the desk to see how Mr. Sullivan was. Once told he was stable George felt better, but on his way toward the front door he was espied by Mrs. Sullivan and Meredith. Rather than flee like a coward he allowed himself to be approached.

Mrs. Sullivan spoke first, "George, I'm glad you were with him. I don't know what I'd do if I lost my Ben. I've been after him for months. He works too hard, and now with you and Meredith. Well, it's been hard."

"I understand," replied George. "Mr. Sullivan's a good man. I'd hate to see anything unpleasant happen."

Mrs. Sullivan reached out and touched his hand, "Thanks again George." Looking aside and askance at her daughter she added in a lower tone, "I can only hope you and she can work things out."

Trying to be polite George added, "Let's worry about Mr. Sullivan now."

Mrs. Sullivan responded, "Yes of course," and she started for the doors.

Meredith held back, "George?"

He replied, "Not now Meredith. You have your lawyer contact mine. We'll let them take it from there." He, like Mrs. Sullivan, started for the doors.

Meredith didn't want to give up, "George? Couldn't we?"

Barely looking back he restated, "Lawyers Meredith." He left her standing there in the front of the hospital. He thought, 'No scenes, no big confessions or apologies, and no lies." He was going to let things take their course.

About a week later George got a phone call from his lawyer. Meredith wouldn't challenge the divorce, and she wouldn't make any financial demands if he agreed to a "sit down", but it had to be just a "he and she' with no lawyers or witnesses. George agreed; he'd already read when there was a divorce with no acrimony a final "face to face" was a commonplace.

George's lawyer returned the information to Meredith and a date was set; the date being a month away and on the same date as their marriage. George considered she'd selected the date for sentimental reasons. The month long delay he assumed, she expected that he'd be reasonably cooled down, and perhaps sufficiently lonely to be more amenable. He accepted the date and time without demurral.

The meeting was set for 3:00 p.m. in an office in their church. George went in the back way to avoid Meredith's mother and father who he was sure were nearby. One of the brothers guided him to the room. Meredith was already there.

She stood up when he entered; she was, as expected, dressed perfectly. She was wearing a dark brown pleated mini-skirt, a pale green button up blouse, two top buttons undone. The blouse must have been of some tightly woven linen; it didn't shimmer like silk, but it was so thin he could see her aureole through it and the almost nonexistent bra she was wearing.

She had smallish breasts, barely a B cup, but he remembered their firmness, their exquisite pear shape with those tiny dark upturned nipples. He reflected on how good they felt in his hands, at least when she let him touch them. He also remembered how sensitive her nipples were, just like her neck, nether lips and clitoris. He recalled how just his slightest touch could evoke chills. He remembered how he used to love to gently touch the insides of her thighs when they were out at some dinner event. She would blush and glare at him with those electrifying eyes.

Regrettably, he also remembered how he believed her overall sensitivity made her feel self-conscious, insecure, and to their mutual unhappiness, shame. He sometimes wondered what the nuns had taught her at those schools she attended.

She was wearing fawn colored nylons with a complementary pair of dark brown heels, perhaps three inches. Meredith was short, but so was George; he stood at 5'11", whereas she came in at just five feet. The heels always complimented their respective heights. She had beautiful little feet, and such delicate hands. He reflected on how she used to attach a hand to one of his arms at the bicep. He remembered the envious looks he got from other men, and with regret he briefly reminisced on the once adoring looks she bestowed on him, looks that failed to appear during their last months.

Her makeup was exactly as he expected. She was wearing the palest pink lip gloss; it matched her eye shadow flawlessly. Her eye liner he thought looked a little darker than normal, but it still looked good, highlighting her vivid green eyes to perfection. Her tiny pierced ears were decorated with emerald stones, earrings he, in fact, had bought her. Around her neck she wore a thin emerald necklace, another of his gifts. Two gold bands on her right wrist and a small diamond encrusted wristwatch on her left signaled to him her determination to show him she was a woman who appreciated nice things.

All things considered, still, nothing she tried could ever completely hide the freckles that crossed her pixyish nose. She was amazing; she still looked exactly like the pretty girl he'd fallen in love with.

Yes, she looked beautiful, like a doll, a beautiful doll. He could only imagine what her daughters might someday look like. Sadly, they'd never be his.

George found a seat opposite hers and sat down. He said nothing. This was her meeting.

To his surprise Meredith did something totally out of character. Already standing she slowly, and oh so femininely walked around the table, got down on her knees, placed her hands on his thighs, looked up with pleading eyes, and whispered, "I am so sorry Trace. I've been so arrogant. I've been thoughtless and cruel. Please forgive me. Believe me, I've not been with any man but you. I was stupid up in Connecticut. He was just a client. I'd only met him that very evening."

She squeezed his thighs, "Trace I love you, and I know you love me. I lost my job, and if you come back I'll be glad of it. We can start our family. Please, I want to have your children."

George was deeply moved. He looked down into those liquid green eyes and saw all the love and affection he remembered. He wanted her. He wanted to take her right there on that table. He wanted to take her home and make love, but most of all he wanted to believe her. Could he believe her?

She must have been reading his mind because she asked, "You believe me don't you?"

He replied, "I want to."

She shifted back and forth on her heels, "You have to believe me George. I've never done anything. I've never been with another man."

He nodded, "I really want to believe you." He had other things on his mind.

She asked, "You still love me don't you?"

George answered, "Of course I do."

She said, "You don't believe I was unfaithful."

He said, "I don't want to."

She expostulated, "George I'm Catholic! How could I?"

He gave her a puzzled look, "Care to tell me about Roger McAllister?"

"Who? What?" she stumbled, "No, there was never anything with him. He was just..."

He interrupted, "He was the finance manager wasn't he?"

"Yes," she said, "but we..."

Again he interrupted, "You never went out with him?"

"No," she blurted, "Just meetings..."

He interrupted yet again, "You never told him you were tired of me. You never told him I embarrassed you. You never said anything about not wanting to be married?"

She said, "No. I mean... I don't know. I don't remember. He took me to lunch a few times that's all. I never said any of those things."

"No," George replied, "No, not to him, but to your girlfriends," He nodded, "Maybe to them?"

She started crying.

George said, "Frank talked to me."

Frightened, Meredith looked up.

He asked, "When you were in Connecticut, why did you use your maiden name?"

Again she quavered, she gulped, "I don't know why. Maybe I was..., it was pretending. I was pretending I wasn't married. I felt. I don't know. I was in college. Then I was married. The other girls at work went out. They did things. Me, Oh, I don't know. I was stupid. George it wasn't what you think." Big wet tears rolled down her cheeks, "It wasn't anything, just make believe. It didn't mean anything."

George stood up and lifted her into a chair. He said, "Meredith I know a lot more than you realize. Maybe you didn't cheat, maybe you weren't moving out, not in the physical sense, but I think you were close. I think you were talking yourself into something. I think Roger McAllister was just a heartbeat away."

She kept crying, she couldn't stop, "No George, that's not how it was. Roger was just a friend. He helped me with some problems."

"And he bought you things," answered George.

She said, "I don't remember."

George wanted to cry too. He said, "Did you try on for him any of the things he bought you? Did he touch you? Did you let him touch you?"

She kept crying, "I can't remember. No, he never touched me. The clothes, I might have worn a couple things for him."

George sighed. This was way more than he wanted to hear, "Meredith we can't stay together. I'm going through with the divorce."

She cried even harder, "Isn't there anything. There must be something?"

He said, "You should get some counseling. Talk to someone who can help you. Change the way you live."

She burped, then coughed, "Would you?"

"No," he said, "We're through, but you need help. I'm sure you'll find someone else some day."

She sat up, wiped her eyes, and pronounced, "No I won't! And no matter what you might have heard I never ever did anything. I never broke my vows. Anything you might have heard just isn't true."

He sighed, "I think I believe you, but it doesn't matter. If we went back you wouldn't change. Sooner or later there'd be someone, another Roger McAllister, a Joe Dokes, or somebody. I'm sorry. I'd never be sure, and I could never live like that.

He stood up, "This is it Meredith. Know that I love you. I want you to get help, move on, find something new, and find someone you can love and make all those babies we'd once planned."

Bewildered she pleaded one last time, "George."

He stepped back and away, "Good bye Meredith. May God bless you and keep you."

George Mason turned and walked out of his one-time wife's life. Sitting in his Wrangler on the church parking lot he watched Meredith leave. He'd almost changed his mind - almost. It had more to do with her former work "friends" than anything. They, of course, knew of Meredith's folly up in Connecticut; more power to them, they'd filled the vacancies her departure created, but how did they find out about her upcoming divorce? He didn't know that, but he sure got an earful from a couple of her "so-called friends".

A couple girls got his I-Phone and couldn't wait to call him, and tell all the dirty things she'd said about him. He only half believed any of it, but that one woman, Megan Delacroix, had proof! It wasn't what he would have considered hard-core proof, nothing a lawyer or a judge would consider, but it was proof of a sort.

Megan had apparently become Meredith's "shoulder", but Megan had taken it in a different direction. Under the guise of being the sympathetic listener Megan got Meredith to respond to pointed questions about the things she'd said and the alleged things she might have done. None of the things Megan recorded were especially damning, but under the circumstances they were just enough to push George over the edge.

With friends like Megan who needed enemies? George had been kept informed by others as well. One of her supervisors, an elderly southern man had called him on her behalf. He explained how Meredith had been over-stretched at work. He'd been disconsolate about the circumstances of her release, but there wasn't anything anyone could do for it. He explained, once she was gone her jobs were redistributed among her colleagues, and along with the redistribution went increased salaries and prestige. Poor Meredith, he felt sorry for her; he'd said all her hard work had gone to nothing. Her female compatriots reaped all the rewards. He even asked George to reflect before he went ahead with divorce.

George did reflect; he wondered if the old southern gentleman had been pressuring her too. George proceeded with the divorce.

Denouement:

As they say, life went on. George poured himself into his career; he went back to school and finished that second Masters he'd been toying with, then he enrolled in one of Georgetown's doctoral programs. He got promoted within the county from assistant elementary principal to principal, and then to regional specialist.

Always dissatisfied, he investigated his other options. He looked into the Maryland state system, but the more liberal leaning Maryland hierarchy was heavily female, and they tended to promote within their own ranks, kind of a "good ole girl" set up. Virginia, however, was more open. Subsequently he was hired as an elementary specialist with the Virginia schools. Along with the hiring went prestige, responsibility, and more money. Though distant from his official point of employment, he bought a house in Arlington. On the professional level he was on his way.

Socially George remained as inept as ever. There were many women; there were the younger ones looking for whatever it was they looked for, there were the spinsters, long time professionals who, after twenty or so years at work had no personal life, and there were the divorcees, all longing for that next "Mr. Right".

George dated. He enjoyed the occasional sex. He thought the best was among the divorcees; they seemed to know what a man wanted, regrettably he could tell they also wanted his income and his house. The lonely professionals were wonderful to talk to, but in bed they drifted back to their lonely and alone status. He tried a couple of the younger ones, but they reminded him of a young Meredith; they especially reminded him of that Megan person.

Yes, George dated, he grew older, a little grey started to mix in with the brown, regular glasses turned to bifocals. He kept to himself. He bought a new canoe and an outboard. He'd fancied himself on a cabin cruiser in the Chesapeake, but when it came down to it he still preferred the forests, the mountain lakes and rivers. Of course, he liked to hunt, and he loved camping so when it all boiled down to it, that meant West Virginia. He enjoyed fishing the Kanawha, the Ohio, the Cheat, the Tygart, and the Greenbrier, but something always drew him back to that little state park just outside Buchanan. There was just something special about Audra and that humble little Middle Fork River.

That's where he found himself one afternoon, in Audra, at a small campsite beside the river. It was late July, he'd been divorced a long time, and hadn't seen Meredith in years when he espied someone who had a familiar look.

The divorce and her foolish gesture in Connecticut literally destroyed Meredith. Without George's moral support and her father's influence Meredith's efforts to secure anything of consequence evaporated. Fortunately she had a facility for foreign languages; she returned to college, earned recognition in French, German, and Italian, then she furthered her skill by adding Spanish, Russian, and Polish to her resume.

Meredith applied with the Federal government, with the United Nations, and finally as a last resort with the Washington D.C. public schools and even the Montgomery County schools. None of them had anything to offer so she stretched herself, and applied everywhere. To her surprise and initial disappointment she was offered a high school position in Culpeper County, Virginia. Lost and largely alone she accepted.

Her by then fully recovered father laughed when he found out where she was going. He said something to effect that he'd never imagined his daughter becoming a red-neck. She hadn't either.

She settled in and was unexpectedly surprised. The idea of the classic redneck never appeared. Sure, the community was largely rural, but the red-neck brutes shown on television and in the movies never appeared. Just the same, it was different. She was surprised how the people took to her. No pretentions; it was this is who we are and we see you for who you are. She met an older school teacher who took her under his wing. Married with grown children and a wife he became her mentor and staunchest ally.

He wanted to teach her to hunt and fish. She knew how to fish, but the idea of hunting had always been a foreign concept. He helped her buy her first shotgun, and then a rifle. She killed her first rabbit, then her first squirrel. The squirrel thing was quite a surprise. The old man took the dead critter and cut out its tongue. Then there in front of other adults and a couple high school kids he handed her the tongue saying, "Here eat it."

Afraid to displease and seeing the looks of expectation on everyone's faces she ate it. It was nothing but gristle.

The old man said, "By eating the tongue you know you'll get another squirrel." She realized eating the squirrel's tongue was a test, a mark of acceptance, and she'd passed.

Life changed for Meredith. She shot her first deer and learned how to dress it. She traded in the old uniform of mini-skirts and spiked heels for Jeans, khakis, and flannels. Four inch heels gave way to tenners and boots. She started to change too; she forgot about the freckles and started to worry about the tiny crow's feet, there were signs of varicose veins, a little grey had slipped in with the red.

It didn't all come easy, but looking back after several years she realized life wasn't what you necessarily wanted, it was what you made it. Yet, through it all her heart and mind always seemed to drift back to that sweet sparkling little stream in West Virginia. She couldn't help herself.

George couldn't quite understand it; the woman downstream seemed too much like someone he hadn't seen in years. He felt like he knew her. He had to find out. He reeled in his line and made his way down river. As he got closer he couldn't quite believe his eyes. It couldn't be, not her, not here. He waved and called out, "Hello!"