More Than Thirty Miles Home

"That's true, but not the whole truth," Bethany piped up.

Dave shot her a look that was - shocked?

He turned again to me and said, "Having long talks with the counsellor and Ellen and Father made me very aware of you being a manipulated victim of a slick, cunning serial adulterer. At LEAST eight women as victims. I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt."

"That's true, but still not the whole truth," Bethany said, levelly.

Dave shot her an exasperated look and then turned to me and said, quickly, "I have an eighteen year emotional, financial, physical INVESTMENT in you that I just couldn't throw away easily."

"That's true, but still not the whole truth," Bethany repeated, relentless.

Dave glared angrily at her, which did not phase her at all, and then turned on me, red-faced. "Alright! Alright! I am pissed! Royally pissed! You gave away that sweet ass of yours, which you had no right to do! That ass is MINE! Exactly the same way my ass is YOURS! We stood before God, our families and our friends and VOWED exclusive and faithful. We belong to EACH OTHER and NO ONE ELSE! You had no more right to give that away than I would to gather up your great-grandmother's gold leaf bone china, which has been in the dining room cabinet for nearly fifteen years, and take it down to the homeless shelter and give it away. If I did that, you'd want it back, right? You would go get it back, right? You don't go giving away the most special, important and amazing part of my life and not expect me to demand it back, do you? So ONE TIME ONLY I am swallowing my anger and my pride and my hurt and stomping on down to the homeless shelter and demanding what's mine back!! I want you!!" With that he heaved a huge breath. Tears were budding in the corners of his eyes but he refused to let them flow.

I didn't have to glance at Bethany to see her nod, that this was the WHOLE truth. I stood up slowly, my eyes never leaving Dave's, and started to unbutton my blouse. With tears budding in my own eyes I heard myself say, "Hey guys, it's time to head for your room. We'll sign all the stuff in the morning. My HUSBAND needs to reclaim his remorseful, very repentant and very, very much back in love, WIFE." Then I walked over and REALLY kissed him, because the time was right.

THE END

Okay, my first attempt at a reconciliation story. Thank you for getting this far. As I noted, my test audience was not really convinced, and most protested that Melissa didn't suffer enough for her long term betrayal and the impact she had on the family. So it was back to the drawing board and here we go; hopefully more believable and the wife pays a higher price for being forgiven.

Cast of Characters:

Melissa - Cheating wife, now 40

Dave - Husband of Melissa, now 42

Carl - Son, now 14

Billy - Son, now 12

Andy - Son, now 10

Matt - Cheating husband

Annie - Melissa's older sister

Four years later...

I stared at my phone. It had become my nightly ritual for the past two weeks. I got back to my dinky, dingy apartment in the early morning from my job at the casino, put a frozen meal in the microwave, and then stared at my phone. I wondered how everyone I left behind was doing.

Tonight I couldn't decide if I was melancholy or miserable, or both. When the wheezing, rattling machine in my 'efficiency kitchen' dinged, I would eat my meal, do my yoga, then shower and climb onto my cot.

Tomorrow it would be four years since I fled the grubby motel where Matt Roggins and I had conducted our grubby affair. Four years ago to the day that I had been caught. At least I was pretty certain that my husband, Dave, had found out. When I had emerged from room 22 as usual, ready to go home and fix dinner for my husband and three sons, I found my car towed, my phone disconnected, and my credit cards all cancelled. After paying for the room, I had exactly twelve dollars to my name.

Mortally embarrassed, I hiked over to a truck stop, the only thing in walking distance of the no-tell motel, and hitched a ride with a trucker. Over the next three days I had worked my way across the country and made it to Las Vegas.

Now here I was, pining for the life I had lost. Then I shook my head emphatically, as if I could see my therapist frowning at me. No, the life I had carelessly thrown away. A friend here had put me in touch with a therapist, a cheap one, because that was all I could afford, and had had some sessions where I had eventually been brutally honest with myself. Lost in grey thoughts, I ate the hot microwave meal without even tasting it.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow afternoon I will call my sister. Really, I will. Tomorrow was my day off - and I needed to fill the yearning pit inside me. I cleaned up from dinner, which needed all of thirty seconds, and then did yoga for twenty minutes. When I ached enough, I took a shower and climbed onto my cot. All my tears had long since been shed, but I had rediscovered prayer. So I prayed that I wasn't entirely forgotten, prayed for the health and happiness of all my family and friends, and then pulled up the sheet. I fell asleep holding a very tattered five-year-old picture of my family in one hand and my wedding ring in the other. I had had to pawn my engagement ring, but no matter how hungry I had gotten, I had never pawned my wedding ring.

The next day was a typical clear, bright, hot desert-type of day. I did laundry at the laundromat, ironed my uniforms as if I were a guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, and then I went shopping. Picking up seven healthy breakfasts, seven healthy lunches, and seven healthy dinners did not take long. Healthy, because I didn't want to spend money on new uniforms. Also, if I became - less attractive - I would probably be fired. People gambled more at the tables of attractive dealers.

Once that was all done, I put in some time at the Mission, helping wherever I could, and then went back to... where I lived. For some reason I wouldn't - couldn't - let myself think of it as 'home.' Home was the sacred placed where I used to live.

I lived very frugally, in a fashion that would have a miser exclaim, "Wow! Can she make a penny squeal!" In four more years, my, our, oldest, Carl, would be 18 and off to college. I desperately wanted to contribute something to his education. It wasn't fair to let all that fall on Dave. Well, it wasn't fair that he wound up with a feckless, cheating wife. First lesson in therapy - Life isn't fair, get used to it. Forgiveness might be impossible, but atonement was necessary. Maybe I could make the money look like an anonymous scholarship.

My watched buzzed, interrupting, my reverie. Time. Resolutely, I picked up the phone, took a deep breath, and punched in the number, praying she hadn't changed it. As it buzzed I crossed my fingers that she wouldn't hang up on me.

"Hello, Camden residence."

I almost choked at the sound of the nearly forgotten voice. "Annie?" I managed to croak hoarsely from a suddenly dry throat.

"Who is...? Melissa? Melissa?! Melissa, is that you?!"

I couldn't speak, but managed to nod, realized I had no video, and managed to rasp out, through a jumble of emotions, "Yes, Annie, it's me."

"Oh, my, God! Oh, my, God! Where are you? Where have you been?"

I coughed and managed to control my voice, trying to sound somewhere between normal and pathetically grateful to be remembered. "Where I am isn't too important. I've been here for a while. I was ashamed and ran away. Do you know...?" Even after three and a half years of therapy, suddenly I couldn't finish the sentence.

There was a hesitation, and an audible deep breath. "Yes. Yes, Melissa, I knew why you ran away. You were, you were, having an affair with that horrible Matt Roggins. And you were found out. Dave found out. We knew. We all knew."

"What? Dave told EVERYONE? The whole family? Oh, my God. No!"

"Melissa? MELISSA?! Listen to me! I'm your big sister, right?"

"Yes, Annie. I'm... sorry, Annie. Really, really, sorry."

"You wouldn't lie to me, would you, Melissa? Tell me you wouldn't lie to me."

I swallowed, hard. "No, Annie. I wouldn't; I WON'T lie to you."

"Good, and you know I wouldn't lie to you either. And I'd always look out for you."

I snuffled as tears slowly welled up in my eyes, seeing the bare walls of my apartment through a watery film. Wonderful memories of simpler, happier times welled up in my mind. "That's right, Annie. You always looked out for me."

"Okay. This number on my Caller ID; this is YOUR number? Like, if I need to get hold of you, you will answer this number?"

"Yes. Its mine. I can't tell you how wonderful it is to hear your voice, Annie. How very, very wonderful. I've missed you. I've missed everyone, so, so, much. I was so ashamed." I took a shaky breath. "But, please don't give it to anyone else, especially Dave. Part of me would sell my soul to kneel in front of him and BEG his forgiveness, and part of me knows I'd never have the courage to look him in the face again. I might die."

"Melissa, I need you to promise me something. I need your SOLEMN promise to your SISTER. Can you promise me something?"

"What am I promising?"

"Boy are you stubborn! I want you to swear to me on BOTH our grandmother's graves that you will not hang up this phone until we both agree that the call is over. No hanging up. Promise?"

"I promise." That was easy.

"And promise that whatever I tell you, you won't blame me? We will listen to each other, and answer questions of each other, and not freak out, right, Melissa?"

I was getting a cold, dreadful feeling and my hand started shaking. I put the phone on speaker, laid it on the table, and grabbed it with my other hand. "Annie, you're scaring me? Why am I promising? Is everyone okay?"

"Melissa, you have to trust me. And you have to promise. You promise and I will answer every question you have. I'll talk until midnight, if that is what you want. But you have to promise."

"Okay. But what...?"

"And I need you to promise you won't... do.... anything. Rash. Anything to hurt yourself. Promise?"

By now my heart was frozen; too scared and cold to beat. I swallowed bitter fear - where mom and dad still alive? Had something happened to one of the boys? Had Dave done something - terrible - when he discovered my treachery? I forced my voice to be steady. "I promise. I solemnly promise my only sister that I won't hang up, we will talk, and I won't hurt myself. I promise." I licked very dry lips, and continued. "But will you promise me not to tell anyone I called and talked to you? At least until I'm ready to handle it. Please?"

"I promise, Melissa. No one will hear anything you tell me from my lips. Promise."

I sighed in relief. "Thank you, Annie. I didn't appreciate how wonderful a sister you are."

"Okay. Where are you?"

"I'm in Las Vegas. I hitched rides with truckers to get here. It took some work and the local Mission Director to get me a job at a casino. I'm mainly a Blackjack dealer, but I can handle other tables."

"You hitched rides all the way to Vegas?"

"Well, I only had $12 in cash. I figure it was Dave who cancelled all my cards when he found out. I guess even if he hadn't I wouldn't have used them; I could be traced."

"Melissa, did you...?"

"Annie. Annie." I wrestled with answering the question I knew she was asking. "Look. It took six rides to get here. I figured here I could hide my shame; disappear. Three guys were born again Christians who didn't want - anything - and one was a married guy who was really faithful to his pregnant wife back home. All four of them just wanted to talk. Two of them wanted to pray with me. All four of them tried to convince me to go back." I took a deep breath; feeling tormented but determined to be truthful. "The fifth settled for a - hand job - and the last guy settled for a - I'm sorry, Annie - a blowjob, for the ride and meals. At least I didn't have to fu..., sleep my way across the country. I'm not proud of what I had to do, but I needed to hide. After what I did with Matt; after what I did to poor, poor Dave, I couldn't face anyone."

"You haven't...? I mean, what happens in Vegas...? You haven't...?"

"Prostituted myself?"

"Yeah, that."

"No, Annie. I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to do that. I almost, well I tried a couple of times, but I couldn't go through with it. I might have had to do it to survive, but nearly the first people I ran into were the Mission Director and his wife; Kevin and Ahlonna. Almost as soon as I got in, I got a cot in a safe place, and then a job, and I still help them out when I can. I owe them a lot. They keep telling me to go home. I was very lucky; I haven't had to sell what I was stupidly throwing away on Matt for all those years. I had to pawn my engagement ring, for the apartment security deposit, but I've hung on to my wedding ring. I want to be buried with that, no matter what happens." I chuckled without humor. "Besides, I'm over 40, and there are a

lot of young, spectacular women around who pull down serious bucks from widowers and convention-goers. It would be wrong and dangerous. Besides, the casinos don't like their employees turning tricks, it can get you fired." I sighed. "My turn. How did Dave find out about me and Matt?"

"He didn't. He trusted you completely. Ellen, Matt's wife, found out and gave Dave a heads up, since you were named in her divorce petition."

My heart hammered a crescendo of guilt. "Oh, God. My poor, Dave. He must have been devastated."

"He did NOT take it well. Not at ALL. He denied it. Then she drove him by the motel and he saw your car and had a breakdown. He looked at the pictures she had, but not the videos."

"Pictures? VIDEOS? How did she get those? Did she have a PI after Matt?"

"No. Matt took them. He had a hidden recorder in Room 22 and took them for himself. She found them and that started the ball rolling."

I went from ashamed to enraged in a heartbeat. "That bastard! That FUCKING Bastard! I hope he dies a LONG, SLOW, PAINFUL death!"

There was an ominous silence.

"Annie?" I ventured, suddenly uncertain.

"Matt Roggins is dead, Melissa. One of the other husbands got to him before he could leave town."

I was instantly disoriented. What could only be my heart beating in my chest was heavy and erratic. I must have misheard; please, God, may I have misheard. "OTHER husbands? What do you mean OTHER husbands?"

She heard a deep, slow and above all, reluctant, breath. The kind where the breather is desperately buying time, but knows there was no realistic way out of answering. "Ellen's petition named eight women, Melissa. Three past and five, well, active. One of those was you. He was a busy little boy. A sailor having a woman in every port? He had a woman in every branch. He was an accomplished serial seducer. An over confident seducer. He had gotten away with it for so long that he got careless. He always used the Johnson Motel. Always used Room 22, because he had it wired. It was centrally located to all the towns with bank branches. It was in a relatively empty area. The only thing nearby was that truck stop. A friend of Ellen's was passing by and recognized Matt's car by its vanity plate. That was her first clue."

I heard my mouth ask, "How do you know all this?" My consciousness was swirling dizzily around in my skull, churning the self-loathing into a mire.

"It all came out at the murder trial. We all followed that. Dave worked very hard to keep your name out of the trial. Ellen was now a widow, so she didn't have to submit her divorce paperwork with all the women's names. Didn't help. The police reports got all the names, and they all came out at the trial. Ellen had informed all the other husbands, just like Dave. A courtesy. One turned out to be far more upset than all the others. A veteran with PTSD. When Ellen threw Matt out, that same day you disappeared, he moved into room 22 at the Johnson Motel. The husband, Gary Settles,..."

I couldn't believe my ears. "Oh, God, Sue's husband? Sue was one of the women? But she loved her family! Her husband was really great...," my voice trailed off as I heard what I was saying. "But I had that, too, didn't I, Annie?" I said in a stricken whisper.

The answer was a bland, "Yes, Melissa, you did. You had a husband and family that some women would kill for. And you blew it. I won't ask what you were thinking, because I don't think you were. Matt was slick. Probably the slickest bastard in the state. A serial seducer. Possibly a sociopath, but we will never know."

"Annie, he was so patient. So easy-going. When he was in the branch he'd drop by with a compliment or a thoughtful little knickknack or something. He'd chat for just a few minutes, no pressure at all. After eight months he asked me out to lunch. I told him I was flattered but I was married. He completely understood, but it was just a friendly lunch. It was six months of low key invitations before he convinced me, well, I guess I convinced myself, that having the bank's roving 'Big Gun' troubleshooter as a personal friend would be career-enhancing. So I eventually said, 'Yes.'"

"But you never told Dave about your 'business friend' lunches, did you?" Annie said, quietly. Her tone was not accusing, but the words were like a Grand Jury indictment.

I couldn't keep the pain out of my voice; I couldn't even try, it was twisting my insides too much. I had been over and over this so much in therapy. For four years I had been like the guy in THE SCARLET LETTER - scourging himself in the night, in the dark. But now the light was coming in and I couldn't flinch. "No. By then I had convinced myself that there was a 'Home' me and a 'Work' me, and Dave had the one and I could do whatever I wanted with the other." I took a deep, shaky breath, trying to ease the turmoil. "I've been going to a counselor here, a therapist, for the last three and a half years, as often as I could afford. She helped me, she MADE me, unravel the whole sordid affair inch by slimy inch, and I didn't like myself a lot

by the time I was done. All I can say is that hindsight is 20/20 and looking back on the whole mess makes me feel terminally stupid. Traveling down the slippery slope day by day; I was just inching toward the cliff blindfolded." I thought I heard a pencil scratching. "Annie, are you writing?"

"Yes, I'm making notes. My memory has been a bit spotty lately, and I don't want to forget to ask you some things and tell you others. I'm sorry. Don't worry."

"Just don't let Peter see them. Remember this is just between us." There was a long silence. "Annie?"

"Yes. Yes. Look, Why don't I just cover what has happened here since you - left. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Remember your promises. No matter what."

"I remember."

"Okay. Ellen told Dave three weeks before that day you took off. Dave was heartsick. He was crushed. He was angry. He clued the family in and swore us to secrecy so he could have you served at work for maximum embarrassment."

"Oh, God, Annie! I would have died!"

"We promised to not let on that we knew. But dad and Dave's dad made him promise to go see a counsellor, a lawyer and Father Ambrose before he did anything. He promised, as long as we all backed whatever he chose to do." I heard a deep sigh. "We all secretly lobbied the lawyer, counsellor and Father very intensively to do their best to keep Dave from going scorched earth on you. And they succeeded even better than we thought. We all hatched this elaborate plot to put you in a position where you would know you had been found out, but not publicly humiliated. Dave cancelled all your cards and your phone as soon as dad reported that you had arrived at that damn motel. What he wanted to do was kick in the door, beat Matt to a pulp, and drag you home by your ear, but he carried out the plan. I arranged to have your car towed back home. As soon as that was done, we hot-footed it home and waited. We expected that when you found your car was gone and all you would have is a hundred dollars, or twelve dollars if you paid for the room, you would either get a ride home with Matt and make him let you off down the block, or you would get the clerk to call you a taxi, or you would give him the twelve dollars to let you call me for a ride, or you would hitch a ride. We NEVER thought you would run away and disappear. Never. All of us were sitting at your house ready for a massive intervention as soon as you got home. Even Father and the lawyer and the counsellor were there. We had talked Dave into offering you three options, though Dave insisted we all sign off on each one to prove we all would support whichever one you picked."