Reconciliation

Mr. Perry had a warning against over exuberance on the tip of his tongue. But he recalled how heedless he was when he was that age and so the warning went unsaid. Let his son enjoy the moment.

But it wasn't a moment. Junior and Senior year were far different at the Perry household. Beth seemed a fixture in their lives and brought a stability and softness to his son which was woefully lacking before. Both of them seemed crazy about each other.

Mr. Perry smiled indulgently and let their love grow.

+

"So...we're in the hotel room, and like...she has the last minute jitters that they always get. Or maybe she's tarting herself up a bit more. Don't know." Brett (real name Harvey) took a swig of a martini.

"What happened next?" Claude (George) asked for the rest of the table.

"Well, I'd done the usual, turning her cell phone ringer volume down to zero so she doesn't get any reminders of home, but the thing kept flashing. Finally, it gave a little vibration. Some stupid text message."

"What was the message?" Reg (Reg) asked. He slammed the rest of the drink and waved over to Stephanie the waitress. He needed another drink.

"I dunno...something like '911 get home' from her stupid cuckold hubby." Brett (Harvey) shrugged off noncommittally.

"What did you do?" Claude (George) asked.

"What do you think? I hadn't gotten my nut off. I wasn't about to let her run off home. I flipped her purse so it looked like it fell over and dropped the cell under the bed."

"Did she have any kids?" Reg (Reg) asked.

"Who cares?" Brett (Harvey) asked honestly.

Two months Reg thought. Two months of avoiding the guys. Jim called occasionally, but he pretty much ignored them. Two months of living in an empty apartment. The guys didn't want him. They'd made that clear. He was unclean. So instead he was stuck with this. He looked around at these fellow players. There wasn't a sense of 'like' between them, not like his former friends. There was just this...candor. They lived the lifestyle and no one else understood it. They all knew the game of being a 'playa'. No matter what they were talking about, they laughed a little too loud, they seemed to drink a little too much and they pretended to be having a wonderful party to attract the interest of any girls in the bar. Reg found his normally good acting skills tested to the hilt for some reason. It wasn't fun anymore.

They said a man was judged by the company he kept...and right now Reg was judging himself pretty damned harshly. He scratched at the red crayon marks on the tabletop. He blinked. There was no red crayon on the tabletop. Great, now he was hallucinating.

"Oh...can you believe it? I got thrown out of a place last week. Told I 'wasn't welcome'" Claude (George) added to the conversation.

"Oh? That happened to me a few months back. Said I wasn't the type of clientele he wanted. What was the name of that place?" Brett (Harvey).

"Second Chance Salon." Claude (George) answered. "Hey...looks like Hector (real name Hector) might be getting lucky."

Reg, who was in a brown mood, looked up from his latest drink. Hector was dancing with a slightly tipsy woman with blonde hair if her dance ability was any judge. He had a moment of panic at her blonde hair, since it was a similar length to Andrea's, but the woman was too tall. Her kinesthetics looked familiar. They swirled to the music. It was Beth.

He watched the 'dance', brooding. Hector swirled her. He plied her with drinks. He leaned in and made gentle, non-threatening bodily contact. They leaned into each other, giggling at witticisms. Reg knew every step, every swirl, every dip, every promenade of this dance. Reg had danced it enough himself.

It was with a certain amount of satisfaction that he noted that the girls whom Beth was ostentatiously with were serving as a pretty effective cock block. It was with substantially LESS satisfaction when he noted Beth took a cocktail napkin and a pen and wrote something that she handed Hector as she said her farewells. The girls went to the bar to pay and Hector slipped out front, returning less than 5 minutes later with a secret smile on his face.

Hector importuned her a final time, just long enough for her friends to leave the bar first. Reggie found that he was grinding his jaw.

+

Reggie parked his car. It was an early model Ford Escort, bought from his car dealer's used car selection. They preferred that the sales force drove something spiffier, but Reg had expenses. Well...past tense.

He was glad to see Dad's car was missing. He didn't really want to talk to anyone. He shut the garage door behind his car and entered through the door into the kitchen. Once there, he slumped into a chair.

Looking at his chest, he saw a drop of tomato sauce. The shirt was ruined, of course. Everything was ruined. A stray thought occurred to him, and he opened his wallet and pulled out a card. The clock only said 7 p.m. Early dinner, public place. She even paid. How could he be that blind? The perfect setting for 'The Talk'...or should he say 'The Brush Off.'

He had time. The store was still open according to the times on the card. He walked over to the phone on the wall and picked up the receiver, using his other hand to brace himself against the wall next to the refrigerator. He punched in the 7 digits on the card.

"Hello...Mr. Arpad...yes. This is Reggie. Reg Perry." His tone was forced by sheer will into normalcy. "Yes, I'm fine. No, I'm not calling about my next payment. I know you're excited. About that...I'm going to be stopping in to get my deposit back." He forced a light, devil may care tone. "Well...you know...relationships. When do they ever work, huh? Yeah...I'll be coming in tomorrow to pick up the money." Reggie noticed that his other hand was beating the wall with a fist of its own accord. He stopped that with a thought. "No, I don't want a watch, but thank you for offering. I had another purchase in mind."

Four years. Four years. Four years. That kept repeating through his mind. He knew he was good looking. He had good grades in high school, though he wasn't a scholar. He was sporty. Tried and true blue. Hell, a lot of Beth's friends flirted with him, much less other girls. Obviously that wasn't enough for a relationship.

Fuck relationships. Maybe it was time for Reg to stop taking women so seriously. Time for Reg to focus on Reg and have some fun like his dad told him.

He dialed the next number from memory. "Yeah. Hey Dave. It's Reg. The bosses have been on my ass about my car. We still have that sweet blue Mustang in the lot? Yeah. I want it. Make sure the other guys take it off the list. Nah...put it on a lease. Why face the commitment, right? Nope. Getting rid of the Escort. What kind of man drives something cheap and sensible like that? Some schumck husband. Sensible doesn't get you laid. You need the right bait if you're going to go fishing..."

He wondered of Melody was free this weekend. She'd always been flirting with him. Time to cut his losses and be realistic about the fidelity of women.

"Beth...BETH!" He called as they left the bar.

"Oops! Oh...hi Reggie. Nope...too late. I doon need a ride. Hect'r's going to take care of me." From behind her, Hector gave Reg a wink. He fully expected Reg to have his back according to 'man code', though Hector was unsure about why Reg was suddenly here interrupting his play.

"Hector." He nodded neutrally. "Since I live by her side of town, I'll take her." Reg wanted to keep this friendly.

Hector was having none of it. " I've already got it covered."

"Yeah. He's got it covered. What the fck are you doin here 'nyway? Don't you got to go find some'ne to fuck?" Beth slurred while leaning on Hector's arm.

Booze did not suit Beth well and Hector started to get his back up. It was well past time to nip this in the bud. "Hector...isn't tonight BOWLING night?" Reg said pointedly.

"Yeah," Hector said with a smirk. Suddenly, the implication became clear. "What the fuck are you going on about bowling night?" Hector was married. Today was his 'bowling night.'

"Sorry. She's a friend of a friend and I can't leave her like this."

"She's a big fucking girl." Hector said threateningly.

"Yeah...I'm a...hey...are you saying 'mm fat? Or are you saying I fck?" Beth looked owlishly at Hector.

"He's saying he forgot what day it was, because he wants to be able to tell Cynthia that he's been bowling tonight and Hector would love for me to confirm it since I'm part of the team." Reg stated in pointed tones.

"Fuck you!" Hector spat. He hopped from one foot to another, trying to make a decision about whether to push it or give it up. "Fuck the both of you." Spinning, he strode off to his car and chirped the tires as he drove out of the lot.

Reg figured his relationship with 'Playa Posse' had pretty much come to a close by messing with Hector's game...and not a moment too soon in his opinion.

"Now you messed everyt'ing up. He was supposed to give me a ride home."

"What about your car?" Reg asked her.

"She wn't start. Besides, he was nice."

"He was looking for an easy piece of ass! Of course he was nice." Reg walked to his car and opened the glove box, withdrawing a screwdriver.

"What the fuck do you care? You don't own me. I've divorced...'member? Maybe in your long LONG line of conquests, you might remember little old me and Wes." Anger was sobering her up but that didn't look pretty on her either. "But I imagine you might forget. There are soooooo many."

"Look...I know it was a mistake. I'm sorry I hurt you and the kids, but I'm not letting you wake up tomorrow feeling like shit because you let that asshole have his way with you. It'll eat at you." He started to jimmy under her car hood and it popped up. There was her battery with the positive cable lying several inches from the terminal. "Particularly when you gave it up because you were drunk and fell for a stupid sophomore trick like this."

"Figures you'd know it..." she spat at him.

"Yeah. Because I'm just like Hector, right? I don't pull this shit on people." Memories of his conversation with Jim reemerged. "I mean...I hadn't gotten to his level." 'Yet' his subconscious added. He recalled what he had tried on that couple at the bar. His ribs ached at the memory.

"Yes. That's the worst part about fucking you!" she screamed at him. "It wasn't the sex. It wasn't that I did it. It was the comparison."

"What?"

"I fucked you because I wanted to remember how things were back in High School. I...I hadn't been happy with Wes. I remembered who you were...who we were then. You....had such...promise. I loved you! I wanted to feel that way again. And now I'm forced to compare that to the man you are today and I hate it! And the worst part...the WORST part is you made me just like you..." she turned and her shoulders shuddered as her arm came up and covered her face.

He closed his eyes tightly for a few moments. Then in dull tones which matched his spirits, he said "I am well aware of your opinion of me. You haven't exactly made it a secret. You are way too drunk to drive and I'm not about to add you getting a DUI or a car accident to my load of guilt. Get in my car."

"Reg..." she knew she'd crossed a line and she raised her hand toward him.

"GET IN THE FUCKING CAR!" She could pick her car up tomorrow. He certainly wasn't going to risk his car here.

It was a silent drive to her house. As he pulled into her driveway, she said softly "I'm sorry...That was inappropriate."

"Yeah, whatever.In Vino Veritas. Say good bye to the kids for me."

"Reg..."

"You're home! You have big grown up responsibilities! Not like me. Maybe if I hurry, I can pick up a couple of drunken skanks before last call. Just...get out..."

Wordlessly, she left.

+

Two weeks. Two weeks of avoiding her phone calls. Two weeks and six sessions with Dr. Fredricks. Two weeks of working long hours and coming home to a new apartment which seemed lifeless. Without the women, it's walls echoed. Without the alcohol, it seemed small.

He couldn't turn his phone off because of work, and that contributed to his depression. It would ring and he'd have to look at the display and see her number, just to hit 'Ignore'. Initially, it was two calls a day. Thank God he had a phone which allowed him to delete messages without listening to them. He already knew what she wanted to say. She wanted to apologize. But that didn't mean anything. She said what she felt. She just felt bad that she'd said it to him and he was mad enough and hurt enough to want to deny her the catharsis of apology. He had to own his bad actions. She got to own hers too.

And yet in the dark of night, he knew he could solve that problem by just changing his phone number. He didn't...couldn't take that step. It meant his entire prior life was over. Done.

Self loathing was a serious problem. Thank god for video games to fill the silences.

A couple times, he almost went to the bank and cancelled the direct deposit into her utilities. Why should she accept money or help from a low life scumbag? Dirty money. But...but the kids. He HAD hurt her. He HAD made a run at her and her whole family was suffering. He was mad...no, FURIOUS at her...but he choose to not let that run over into the kids. The doctor had been quite clear. HE was responsible for how he reacted to people. She had hurt his feelings...and the saddest part was a lot of it was true. The kids had even less control over their lives then Beth and he did. He wouldn't take it out on them. Besides, without the booze or the dating, what did he have to spend the money on?

One day when he came back from the gym, his rituals the only thing in place to keep him sane, he spied the envelope that Mr. Turner had given him. He COULD fix something in her life. He owed Beth a way to fix part of her predicament...and there was someone who owed April and Jimmy quite a bit. It took one call to her attorney and an address and Reg solved Beth's money problems...at least potentially.

Repressed memories of days long ago surfaced and he woke several times shivering in his bed.

At the end of week two, a text came that he couldn't ignore. '911 Please Call'. It was Jim's number.

+

Reg returned the call. "Hello Jim." He said dully.

"Reg." There was a pause. "Look...we got ourselves a bit of a situation here." In the background, he heard Phil's voice shouting. "Is she there? Is she with him?"

"What's going on Jim?"

"Reg...ignore that. Um...this is just a courtesy call. See...Kelly ran away from home a couple of days ago....and..."

"And you thought she might be with me?" Rage started to fill his voice.

"No! NO! Not seriously. But we're calling everyone we can think of and we'd appreciate it if you'd keep an eye out for her. You know...maybe if she snuck into a club or something..." Jim trailed off.

"Yeah. Good old Reg is sure to see her. I'm not going to clubs anymore." The words of the Doctor came back to him. HE chose how he'd react to what other people did. He thought about the situation for a few silent moments. "Look...I'm coming right over. You at his house?"

"What? Yes. Um...just a head's up.. Wendy's not exactly...um, she's really upset and...well, Sally and Beth are here to make calls, drive around and offer moral support and well... I know things are a bit..." Jim paused.

"Tense? Yeah. But I'm a big boy. I can handle it." Reg hung up.

+

There were a number of cars in the driveway, so he was forced to park his Mustang in the street. He didn't have a chance to knock because Jim opened the door while he was still on the walkway.

"Thanks for coming. I know it will mean a lot to them. Phil's just...lashing out, so if he says something, just cut him some slack. He's taking a break from running around in his car looking for her."

"No problem."

He walked into the room where Phil was pacing and muttering. Not giving him a chance to say anything, Reg slapped a set of keys, his phone and his wallet in the lawyer's hands. "Here. Those are the spare keys to my apartment. Those are my credit cards. This is my last month's phone record. You have my call log on the phone. You can check to see if anyone is there or if I rented a room recently." Reg said forthrightly.

Phil had enough self possession to look abashed. "No...no, I don't need to do that. I...thanks for coming over. But what I really need is if you can drive around town and look for her. For the love of God, she's only 16."

"Do you mind if I take a look in her room?"

"What? Whaddya want to look in her room for?"

"Just humor me."

The room was in that transition phase from little girl to full-fledged teenager. Or was it? There were the mandatory stuffed animals which were strangely lying on the floor next to the built in bench alcove under the bay window. A zebra striped box stood next to the bench in the alcove. The box was very dusty. Reg lifted the cushion of the window bench. As suspected, there was a door which lead to a dusty area with a shadow in the dust the same size as the zebra box. Something she hid from her parents. Drugs? Clothes?

A lacy dust ruffle was around the base of the bed, while a few posters hung on the wall; art prints and some silly boy band. A pine book shelf stood next to a sturdy pine student desk. On the desk was a Bible and an envelope sitting on top of the detritus that normally covered a kid's desk. He looked inside of the envelope. Empty. There was a gap in the pages of the Bible where something had been left inside for a long time leaving a square outline on the pages. Reg picked up the envelope and put it into the Bible imprint. A perfect fit.

Looking at the book shelf, there was a gap in the lowest shelf, just the right size for the Bible. "Is she religious?" He asked Phil, who watched him. Reg looked behind the desk to see an empty socket in the outlet. The other had an adaptor which held a half a dozen other plugs to her stereo, her desk light, and other various electronics.

"What? We go to Church, but no. Not that much."

Reg examined the Bible. Dust free. Checking the books on the lowest shelf, the rest of them were dusty. He ran his hand over the spines of the rest of the shelf, browsing, and grabbed last year's Yearbook. Idly, he started flipping pages until he found the picture he wanted. He closed it and put it back.

Without another word, he walked out of the house and got into his car and left.

+

Wes tossed his Audi keys into the air and caught them as he ran down the steps of his new apartment. He was running late and figured he'd go for dinner at Mitchell's and maybe pub crawl up the Short North, trolling for a date, so he wasn't looking where he was going and he almost ran into the blonde. He stopped short and used the fact he was running downstairs to check out her cleavage.

She looked at him and broke into a huge smile "HI!" she with unbridled enthusiasm which warmed him to his toes. "Are you by chance Wesley Moran?"

His own face broke into a 'aw shucks' grin which he thought was charming. "Do I know you?"

"A friend of mine mentioned Wes Moran and they told me to look him up." She popped her gum. Inwardly he winced at her disgusting habit, but it set his mind to thinking of the other things she could do with her tongue. If she was a gum chewer, no doubt her tongue was well exercised. "Guilty. I guess you found me...I don't suppose you got some handcuffs..." he tried.

"No handcuffs. Here...you've been served." She shoved a manila envelope into his hands turned and he had a good view of her rotating rear end as she sashayed back to her car.

The envelope contained a copy of an order of income withholding for alimony and child support served on his employer, and a writ of execution ordering him to pay $120,000 in retirement, savings account, and other assorted assets which he had stripped from their joint bank accounts.