More Than Thirty Miles Home

I was confused now. "Options? What other option than divorce was there?"

"Well, there was 'Run Away'. Dad had your car all gassed up, mom had your suitcase packed and in the trunk, and Dave put $2500 in the glove compartment. If you wanted to run off with Matt and abandon the family, then we would let you go to stop the damage to the rest of the family. We knew that Ellen was kicking Matt out, and some of us felt you deserved each other."

"Oh, no, Annie, never! I wasn't in love with Matt. I didn't want him. I did NOT love him. He just convinced me; eventually convinced me; that it was just to spice up our good but mundane and boring lives. Looking back it was so wrong, so very wrong, but I felt kind of trapped after a while. I wound up going to those trysts by habit long after the thrill of illicit sex, or having and keeping a secret had faded. It took the last two years of heavy counselling to make me understand how much I was disrespecting Dave and myself, and sabotaging my most important relationships. Instead of putting that effort into making my marriage better, I stole it away to give to someone else."

"Well, if you had taken option one and run away, Dave would have filed for divorce after a year, due to abandonment, trying to save the family embarrassment. Ellen had agreed to burn all but one picture and to only refer to you as 'unknown woman'."

I felt something bad about this option and prompted her, "But...?"

"But the family agreed that if you left, abandoned the family, you were gone completely and you would be shunned for the rest of our lives."

I stared at the phone, a broken woman who had not yet fallen apart but felt like I was teetering on a knife's edge. "You mean like never see the kids graduate? Or get married? Or see my grandkids?"

"Yes."

"Oh, SHIT! How could you do that to me?"

"How could you do what you did to a man who never did anything but love you, and a family that never did anything but support you?" The words were like lashes, and I flinched, even though they were delivered with the blandness of a train station announcement.

"Sorry. Sorry. You are right. I was answering like me today rather than me four years ago. I would have deserved it. What was option two?"

"Divorce. Except that you would have stayed with mom and dad until it was final. You would never see Dave, ever again. Never. The family signed up to keeping you two apart at any family function, having two parties if necessary, or inviting each of you on alternating holidays. Oh, and we all promised that if you ever showed up with another guy, we would make certain he knew exactly and truthfully why your first marriage ended."

I was desperately trying to keep it together; to not have a breakdown. To not scream so the other tenants called the police about a madwoman being tortured to death by inches in the basement apartment. "Argh. Dave would never want to see me again? Ever?"

"No, he said it would be too painful, and a wound never heals if the scab keeps getting ripped off. His words, not mine, but I can understand."

"Annie, I swore that if I ever found courage enough to face Dave, I would get down on my knees and abjectly apologize and beg him to forgive me. I wish there was something, anything, I could do to make it up to him. I used to have a fantasy that Dave needed a kidney, and I was the only matching donor, and I snuck in to the hospital and he never found out who saved his life." I shook my head and wiped away a tear. "Then I had a dream that Dave needed a heart transplant, and I drove to the hospital and blew my brains out, outside the operating room. I woke up in a cold sweat with a scream. I called the therapist - at 2 in the morning - and had a phone session. She gave me the suicide prevention hotline number. She got me to remember that I'm A+ and Dave is B-, so that nothing good would come of my... hurting myself." I took some more deep, shaky breaths. "So I've had to wrestle a few demons, and it's been kind of dark at times." I gave a short, dark laugh that was more like a cough. "So what was option three?" There was a long pause. "Annie?"

"Reconciliation."

The sudden ringing in my ears was like a five alarm fire in an old black-and-white movie, and I was so light-headed I was dizzy. I grabbed the seat of the chair to keep from falling off. "What? What are you saying?" I whispered hoarsely.

"Everyone had talked Dave into forgiving you. He went off and sold his autographed baseball bat collection to get a two week early fifteenth anniversary trip to the South Seas, with counselling sessions already scheduled for when you got back."

"Dave was going to FORGIVE me?" I could barely hear myself over the pulse suddenly pounding wildly in my ears.

"Yes. We all signed on to that, too."

My stomach revolted. I fell off the chair, on to my knees on the floor, jarring, painfully hard. Somehow I managed to grab the wastebasket, and vomited into it. I voided my stomach, the bile scorching every inch of my throat, filling my mouth full of vile, acrid and gross remnants of my last microwave meal. The heaves wouldn't stop; the MISERY wouldn't STOP! Anything left came up in great body-wracking heaves. If I hadn't run out of stuff, I would have smothered in my own vomit.

"Melissa! Melissa! Are you okay?!"

"Oh, God! Oh, God! Please let me die. Please," my acid scorched vocal cords wheezed.

"Don't you dare, Melissa Miller! Don't you dare!" Ann's voice cried out with commanding desperation.

I forced enough air into my longs to gasp out between the sobs, "I've been laying on a cot, alone and in the dark, clutching my wedding ring in one hand and my little wallet picture of my family in the other for four stinking years, praying to wake up from this nightmare, and Dave was going to FORGIVE me?! I could have been sleeping in our bed, hanging onto him, holding him, spending the rest of my miserable life making it up to him! And I ran AWAY?! Every decent person I ran into tried to convince me to go back, but I was too humiliated, too embarrassed. Oh, God, I am too stupid to live!"

"Don't you dare say that! Don't you dare even think it! Don't go jumping out any windows! You promised!"

"I live in a windowless basement efficiency apartment. I don't have anywhere to jump." When my limbs stopped trembling, I managed to climb back on the chair, weak and unsteady. I felt like an entire major league team had used my body for batting practice. Every nerve screamed, "PAIN!" from my ankles to my ears. "I'm okay, Annie, really I am. I, I just bitterly regret every second of the last eight years. If I had a time machine, I'd go back and push my old self under the nearest bus, take my place, out Matt the minute he tried to start the first conversation, and then go home and fuck Dave senseless."

"Okay, Melissa. If wishes were fishes..."

"We'd all cast nets. Yes, one of dad's favorite sayings. I'm okay." I felt badly dehydrated, so on rubbery legs I went and got a glass of water and swirled it around in my mouth several times and spit it into the sink, ridding my mouth of the horrible taste. Then I took another glass and chugged it down. I brought a second back to the tiny table, managing not to spill too much. "Okay, Annie. I'm - better - now. Then what happened?"

"Well we waited and waited. Everyone got edgier and edgier, and Dave got darker and darker. Then finally dad called the motel and asked the owner what had happened. He said he had seen you hike off to the truck stop." I heard a deep breath. "That's when Dave REALLY lost it. I mean old-fashioned righteous wrath, foaming at the mouth fury. He blew down and none of us dared move. He ranted and raved like a mad man." There was a delicate pause. "Melissa, had you really not made love to Dave in four months? Didn't even know that he hadn't touched you in the last three weeks before you ran away? Not even a peck on the cheek or a squeeze of the hand? We got the whole run-down. Every bit of good that we had done over the last three weeks was undone in three minutes."

The heaves were instantly back. The water went into the stinking waste basket, and then the dry heaves followed until my sides ached like I had been ground zero in a war.

"Ann, I am so, SO, sorry. For everything. For EVERYTHING."

I heard another deep breath. This one was shaky. "Well, since you and Dave weren't going to use the tickets, Dave gave them to Peter and me. WE got to go on the honeymoon we always wanted." She sounded defensive as she added, "They were non-refundable, and Dave certainly wasn't going by himself."

"Annie, Annie, at least I am glad that something good came out of it."

"Oh, more than something. Little Peter is playing quietly in the next room. We just celebrated his third birthday three months ago. He was born exactly nine months to the day after we got back from the trip."

My mind, muddy and shamed, grasped at the astonishing ray of sunlight. "Annie, I am so happy for you and Peter! I thought you couldn't have kids?"

Her voice cracked a little and she finally got out, "He is my little miracle baby. Of course, making love three or four times a day for two weeks might have had something to do with it. WE kind of went a little wild."

"Peter must be so proud."

"Yes, he was."

The past tense and the bereft undertone in her voice settled from my ears to the pit of my twisted, empty stomach by way of my shredded heart. "Annie?"

"Peter is dead, Annie. He died shortly after Peter junior's first birthday. Cancer. Very aggressive. He collapsed one day, and a week later I, I, was a widow."

The horror; the pure and absolute horror, was unlike anything I had ever experienced. Some sadistic demon had shredded the grubby remnants of my soul and had, slowly and thoroughly, ground pure salt into every measure of raw flesh. I shrieked inside like a rabbit being disemboweled alive by an eagle's beak. Fortunately I managed to keep my teeth tightly shut, or Annie's eardrums might never have recovered. "Annie! Annie! Oh, my poor sister! And I wasn't there for you. Oh, God, I am so sorry. I should have been there for you."

Ann gave a quiet little wail; a ghost of all the sobs she had had wrung out of her empty, broken heart months ago. Finally she managed to say, quietly, "I could really have used my sister then. I really, Really, REALLY needed you, Melissa, but you were on the run. You weren't there for me."

"Ann, Annie! I am so sorry. You were always there for me, and I wasn't there when you needed me most. I have no excuses. I was so self-centered. How can you ever forgive me?"

"I forgave you a long time ago, Melissa. And if I could change anything, I would have insisted that Peter go for annual physicals. Then he might still be alive." I heard deep, shuddering breaths, and my heart ached to every stifled sob. Finally I heard, "Or maybe not. But that's in the past. I will still be here for you and I will find a way to get you home."

"Oh, Ann, how can I possibly...?"

"Oh, be quiet! You don't think I would be better off with my sister here to help me out? You think your kids wouldn't be better with their mother in their lives? You don't think mom and dad would sleep a little easier knowing where you were and if you were okay? You have to know us better than that."

"What about...?"

"Dave?"

I swallowed hard. "Yeah, Dave. How...?"

"He was really hurting, Melissa. I mean REALLY hurting. It took a year of therapy for him to say your name without swearing. When he found out why you had been withdrawing from him emotionally and sexually for the last few years, he was broken. He is glued back together now, but the cracks still show." She heard Annie's pencil scratching. "Well, he is better. What he has left from being a very involved single dad, he has thrown into work. He has gotten two promotions and is doing well; professionally, anyway. A district manager, no less."

"He, he deserves it. He worked very hard for us. He devoted himself to - our - family, too. He didn't deserve a cheating wife. I was stupid and thoughtless. I didn't deserve what I had; what I threw away."

"Melissa, you know you are divorced, right?"

I couldn't answer. I sat in the chair, arms wrapped around my stomach and rocking back and forth to ease a pain which couldn't be eased. I was too dehydrated for any more tears, but I couldn't keep an incoherent moan from bubbling out of my soul, keening like a banshee on the roof of the dying damned.

"Melissa? Melissa, are you there?!"

I clutched at a fragment of sanity and hung on grimly. "I'm - here. I mean the shell that I am is still sitting in this chair, but whatever was left of Melissa's soul just shriveled up and blew away." A sob escaped; one deep gut-wrenching sob. But what had I really expected? That Dave would wait for the rest of his life for me to slink back?

"A year after you left, Dave filed under 'abandonment' and six months later it was final. So you have been divorced for about two and a half years now."

There was more scratching.

"Annie?"

"So, when are you coming back?"

"Back? Back? How could I come back? I might be recognized. If I ran into Dave, I'd throw myself in front of the nearest bus."

"You promised you wouldn't do that!" The reply snapped back like a whiplash.

"I, I know. And I won't. But I would feel like I should." I sighed morosely. "I have saved up money. Every cent I can spare. When the kids go to college, Dave shouldn't be saddled with that on top of everything else. If I send you money, could you get it to the kids somehow? I'm not sure how I would make it look like a scholarship at whatever college they go to."

More scratching.

"Really? I mean, yes, Melissa, I would do that. But will you PLEASE visit me? Please?"

I stared at my little rectangle of high tech plastic that was making insane demands. "I might be seen!"

"Just drive in my driveway at night and park behind the garage."

"I, I don't have a car. I walk or take the bus."

"Well, the AMTRAK station is pretty obvious, but you can come in by bus. I will meet you at the terminal downtown, and whisk you back here." It sounded like paper was being shuffled. There was quiet beeping for a long time. "If you arrive on the 17th, three Fridays from now, we can spend the weekend. I'll get you back to the bus station Monday morning." More scratching and some shuffling. "You can meet your nephew."

"Do you, do you think I could see the kids? Not meet them. Not let them see me. Like from a distance, at the park or something? Please, Annie?"

"How about Dave?"

I was quiet for a long time. "I don't know, Annie. Part of me wants to run up to him and throw myself on the ground and beg forgiveness, but I know that would never happen."

"I'll work on it. So, you promise you will come?"

I wrestled with myself, my conscience and heart were archenemies. I heard something like tapping fingers. "Here. Greyhound bus schedule. Number 983. Leaves Vegas for Omaha 6:15 pm Wednesday. Then Number 167 leaves Omaha for Chicago at 5:05 pm Thursday. Number 589 leaves Chicago for Philadelphia, and stops here at 6:30 pm Friday. I will pick you up. We will come right back here. Pack light. Do you still wear the same sizes?"

I looked at myself in the small mirror over my one dresser. "Sizes? Yes. I've lost about three pounds and it's, well, healthier. I work out a bit in the apartment, and walk a lot. I'm not in bad shape for the shape I'm in," I added without humor. "Why?"

"I have some of your old clothes, but people will be less likely to recognize you if they catch a glimpse if you are in something you didn't use to wear. If someone saw you in your signature green dress, you'd be given away instantly. I'll have a couple of outfits no one will associate with you. We won't go out much. I need to see you."

"Oh, Annie, I need to see you, too." There was a long silence. "How are - momma and dad?"

"Older. Older, but still healthy. They haven't traveled much in the last four years. I know they worry about you. Can I at least...?"

"No. Please. Just no, Annie. Let me think on it."

"Okay. I WILL see you in two and a half weeks, right? Text me when you get on each bus and let me know it you are early at any point. I don't want to leave you waiting at the station."

"Thank you, Annie! Thank you, thank you! I will buy the tickets tomorrow."

"I love you. We all love you. Even if we've forgotten it a little bit. Call if you need ANYTHING. Anything. You are promising your sister, right?"

"I'm promising. Good bye, Annie."

"See you soon, Melissa."

I hung up, reluctantly, and lay down on my cot in fetal positon, curled around my family and wedding ring - and cried more bitterly than any night since my first night here. When no more tears came, I whispered a prayer of hope and fell asleep.

I kept my word. I bought the tickets, packed lightly, and signed up for the time off. I texted Annie every other day, joyous not to be alone anymore. Kevin and Ahlanna from the Mission were happy for me and rustled up a small travel suitcase, and packed me a travel bag with snacks and used paperbacks.

I spent the trip excited, anxious, and terrified. I fell asleep only when I couldn't stay awake any more. As the bus coasted into the station at my home town I saw Annie standing in the waiting area in grey slacks with a pink and grey-checked blouse. I couldn't help it, I waved like a little girl seeing grandma after a long, hard school year. I practically flew off the bus into her arms, babbling like a crash survivor. She laughed and cried and had to remind me to get my bag.

We climbed into her car, both talking at once and not listening much. The scent of Chinese food filled the car. "Dinner," Annie announced as she got us out on the road. She took a roundabout route to her house and I slouched down in the seat and pulled my cap down as far as I would go. I looked out for familiar faces as we talked about anything and everything. She pulled right into the garage and closed the door before we got out.

As we sat at her kitchen table she said, "Now, once this is done, if you'd rather go back to Vegas, it's your life. But, if you want to stick around, well, the Belmont's have some open one bedroom apartments in their complex. It's handy to downtown. I had a quiet talk with Jed Starker, your old branch manager, who is now VP. He doesn't have any openings, but he said he would give you a glowing recommendation to the new financial planning firm in town.

The women who were involved with Matt who tried to stay with the bank didn't last too long."

"Harassment?"

"No, not that ever heard tell of, it's just that everyone knew what had happened, and however hard anyone tried to pretend things were normal, stuff just leaked through, you know? Nothing mean or intentional, just that it was a lot easier to start over someplace else as an anonymous divorcee."

"I know all about being anonymous," I said, bitterly, to no one in particular.

"Well, I for one would like you to be around. I know it would be a relief to mom and dad. The kids could use their mom."

I noticed she hadn't said anything about Dave, but I didn't feel like jumping right into the deep end of that shark-filled pool right away.

"Where's my nephew?"

"Mom and dad have him for the night. Just us girls. We can talk without having to worry."

Annie set her purse on the table, then the Chinese food. We sat down and Annie pulled her phone out of her purse, glanced at it and lay it face down on the table. She gave me a grin. "Nervous mother syndrome. Sorry. Mom raise us without too many bruises, but I still have my antennas up. Maybe it's some kind of 'older mother' thing."

I shook my head. "I was a lot younger when Carl was born, and I still had some twitches when mom and dad took him for the night so Dave, Dave and I could have some - adult time." I took a deep breath and managed to keep tears at arm's length.