Room with a View

Day seven turned into the morning of the eighth. I finished up the last of the eggs and bacon for breakfast. I still had plenty of coffee, creamer, and bread, but nothing to go with it. I'd have to make a few decisions in the next twenty-four hours on what I wanted to do.

"You dumb shit," is all he said when he walked into my cabin. "Mandy called last night and wanted to know if your sorry ass was up here." I watched as the ash from the cigarette, which hung between his lips, hit the floor. I handed him the cup I'd left by the sink.

"What did you tell her?"

"The truth, did you think I was going to fucking lie for you? I told her you had a blonde and a redhead up here, and have been putting the meat to them for the past week." He smiled at his own joke. "I told her you were okay, and were keeping to yourself. And no, I didn't ask her what was wrong, nor do I care to know. I've got my own problems to worry about." I knew it was just a matter of time before she found me.

"Did she say anything else?"

"Nope, just wanted to know if you were up here. I guess that answers most of my questions, and the others, well, I'm too old to worry about the two of you and your problems. By the way, just to give you a heads up, we are supposed to get another six plus inches over the next day or two, if you're interested. If I were you, I'd be heading south by tonight before the roads get too bad. That is, if you plan on leaving. Well, got to get my truck ready. Sure as hell don't want to get snowed in." I watched him walk back to his cabin while I debated my next move.

I closed it up, shut off the gas, the water, and flipped the main breaker on the electrical box. I gave Art what little food I had left, along with the six- pack of beer I'd decided not to drink. He smiled at his good fortune.

"Art, see you soon," I told him on my way out.

"Next time bring your wife, she's a lot more sociable than you."

"You just be careful, I don't want to have to pull your sorry old ass out of some ditch."

"That'll be the day."

I gave him a friendly hug, fired up my truck, and headed out. Where I was going, I wasn't completely sure, but the last thing I wanted to do was to get snowed in up here. I'd be ready for the loony bin by the time spring rolled around.

When I was through Detroit Lakes I got in the right hand lane, put it on cruise, and let everyone go by me. The snow was coming down pretty hard, but as fast as I was going, I'd have more than enough time to avoid the ditch if I lost traction. Anyway, I needed some quiet time before I hit Minneapolis. I still had a couple of days left of my supposed vendor inspection trip, but that went out the window now that Mandy knew where I was.

I spent the night in a motel just outside of Coon Rapids. It was kind of a dump, but there was a bed, a television, and cable—all the comforts of home, who could ask for more—and for forty-five dollars a night, what was I expecting? I already knew what I was going to say to Mandy. Hell, I guess I'd known from my second night up north. I was just getting one more night's rest before heading home.

Rest, who the hell was I kidding? I just lay there looking up at the ceiling, counting the holes in the tiles. By six o'clock in the morning I had paid my bill, and was headed over to Denny's for breakfast. I made short work of my Grand Slam breakfast and had an extra cup of coffee to boot. It was Saturday morning, so I knew Mandy would be sleeping in. I steered my truck towards home and within forty minutes was in my driveway.

I thought about hitting the garage door opener, but it's noisy as hell in cold weather, and I wanted to come in unannounced. The house was quiet. I left my suitcase in the front hallway and went into the kitchen. It was the same as when I'd left it ten days ago. I don't know what I was expecting, maybe a sink piled with dirty dishes, or beer bottles stacked all over the counters? It looked the same way it always had. Not knowing what to do next, I made coffee. Mandy usually drank tea in the morning, but I never developed a taste for it. I made the usual three cups for myself. With my back to the stairs, and filling the coffee pot with water from the sink, I never heard her come downstairs.

"You want to heat me up some water?" were the words that made me jump. She'd taken me by surprise.

"Sure, no problem." I grabbed the teapot, filling it halfway up before setting it on the now glowing burner. "Anything else?" She shook her head, no.

Milk, creamer, sugar, were all within reach of where we ended up sitting.

As they say, the silence between us was deafening.

"I'm sorry I sprang it on you like that, but I didn't know a better way to do it," she said, playing with the teabag in her cup.

"No problem, I guess there wasn't an easy way to say it." My gut started to tighten up like it had that night, and every night thereafter.

"I just want you to know, I haven't seen or talked to him since the term ended." She was now looking for some type of reaction to her statement.

"You find someone new?"

She scowled. "I guess I deserve that shot, but no, I haven't."

We were skirting the issue, afraid of what the other might say, or not say in this case. I couldn't take it any longer.

"Mandy, what the hell do you want?"

"You!"

"Bullshit! You had me, but went looking elsewhere."

"I did not go looking."

"If you're going to keep lying to me, I'm getting up and leaving." That statement made her eyes get real big but no tears fell. Maybe like me, her tear ducts were empty.

"It's true. I never went looking for anyone, it is you I love. We started talking after class one night and before I knew it, I was spending at least a half hour or more talking with him every night after class. When he suggested coffee, or when we grabbed a bite to eat at the student union, I didn't see anything wrong with it. I knew I might be pushing it when we went out for drinks, but you stop for a beer after work once in a while, and I was just doing the same thing, or so I thought.

"When I stop for a beer, it's with Joel, Paul, or Dan. I'm not trolling for another woman, or any strange stuff." I knew that hurt her, it was meant to. I wanted her to feel some of the pain I'd been going through since that night.

"Steve, I wasn't looking for anyone to replace you. He was just someone intelligent to talk to, someone who was interested in what I was teaching."

That last statement stung, reopening a rift that was often between us. She didn't think I was her intellectual equal, and I probably wasn't. She had never said it out loud, but I felt it when we went to her faculty functions at the college. These people were smart, but it was all book smart. I don't think more than a handful of them could find their way out of a paper bag.

"I wish now I had never said anything."

"So, you were just going to fuck him on the side, and leave me deaf, dumb, blind, and stupid?"

"I wasn't having sex with him," she retorted, her voice going up.

"Yet. For all I know it may have happened sooner or later." It again got quiet between us.

"Are you going to stay, or are you just stopping by to pick up more clean clothes?" That felt like another dig of sorts. It seemed like we were now take shots at each other.

"I'll be here tonight, after that I'm not sure." And I wasn't.

"Steve, I want you to stay. Even if you don't believe it, I truly do love you."

I wanted to say, 'yeah right' but figured that would just start another argument, which I didn't want at the moment.

"I'll sleep in the guest room tonight. We'll see what happens tomorrow."

"You're my husband, you need to be in bed with me. How are we ever supposed to get passed this by being apart?"

"Mandy, right now I don't feel very lovey dovie towards you."

"Fine. Fine, sleep in the damn guest room. I've got to go into work this morning for a couple of hours. There is a bunch of stuff I didn't get done this week, worrying about you. You also might want to touch base with your children. They were also worried about you." She left her cup on the counter and went back upstairs to change.

In the three or so hours she was gone, I made a list of things I would need to do if I decided to leave. Forget closing the bank accounts and canceling the credit cards, we weren't to that point.

Dinner was quiet. She had made chicken and rice but neither one of us was very hungry. I sipped on a glass of wine, not saying a word. What I wanted was to pick her up, shake her, and ask what the hell could she have been thinking, but I never did. In retrospect, I should have to get everything off dead center.

That night she watched me again walk into the guest bedroom. I didn't shut the door. I was still waiting for her to say something, she never did. She also left her door open, maybe hoping I'd change my mind sometime during the night, I never did. So many 'never dids' by both of us were getting us absolutely nowhere.

By Sunday afternoon, you could cut the tension with a knife. We ate brunch together, read the newspaper, even watched a little television. By dinner she finally had enough.

"Are you going to talk to me, or what?"

"Mandy, what do you want me to say?"

"Steve, you know damn well what. We need to address this issue. I need to know if you are staying or leaving?"

"I haven't made up my mind yet. Why are you in such a big hurry to get rid of me? What? Do you have a date tonight or something?" That was the wrong thing to say.

"Fuck you!" she shouted, heading for the stairs.

There was a lot of noise coming from the upstairs. It sounded like things were be tossed around. Forty-five minutes later Mandy came down the stairs with two suitcases in hand.

"If you want to talk, I'll be at my parents," she informed me, walking towards the garage door in the kitchen. "For what it's worth, I still love you but I can't deal with your silent treatment or sarcasm anymore." With that she was out the door. There was this delay before she actually pulled out of the garage. I think she was waiting for me to stop her, but I didn't. It was good that tomorrow was Monday and I would be back at work. It would fill the empty spaces in my day and in my life.

Barry was glad to have me back, even though I told him I was far from resolving any of my issues.

"Work is what you need to get your mind off your troubles. Just don't overdue it." But I did.

There was no point going home right after work. I was going home to an empty house. I told no one what was going on. I just didn't want to have to explain anything to anybody, though I am pretty sure some suspected something was not right just by my actions. Mandy made it a point to e-mail me every other day, but I rarely replied and when I did, she probably didn't like what I had written.

This went on for weeks. The red-hot anger wasn't always there but I found myself flying off the handle for no particular reason, and more than one time I had to eat crow and apologize to one of my co-workers. I knew I had to get my head straight. Each day I found it harder and harder to function without Mandy being with me. All I felt inside was emptiness. How that bout of depression snuck up on me I haven't a clue. Medicating with alcohol is probably how it initially started, but when I stopped drinking it was still there. Mandy and I tried to talk. It was mind boggling that after twenty-eight years we couldn't talk about what needed to be talked about, yet there was so much we needed to talk about.

"Dad, you've got to snap out of it," my son said to me for the tenth time. "Mom is worried about you, we all are. You two need to get back together and work it out. Stop being so damn stubborn." My son didn't understand.

"Ronnie, if your girlfriend told you that she was spending time with another guy, how would you react? If she was going out to dinner and having drinks with him behind your back, what would you do? Finally, if she admitted that she had some feelings for him, would you still be so fucking understanding?" He didn't have such a quick answer for me this time.

"But we're talking about Mom. You two have been together most of your lives,"

"Ronnie, that's what makes it that much harder to take." I was done trying to explain my reasons to him.

Dawn was a lot more understanding than my son, but she also sided with Mandy to a point.

"You know, I think Mom is just starting to go through her change. Her hormones are probably out of whack, and she didn't fully understand what she was doing. I told her to get checked out because with a few drugs she can get it under control. You do know she never slept with him, don't you?"

"Dawn, if she had, we wouldn't be having this conversation at all, would we?"

"Look, I told Mom she was wrong, but that you would forgive her."

"Anything else you want to tell her from me?" I was getting a little upset with my kids. "Both of you need to stay the hell out of my life. You take care of yourselves, and I'll take care of myself."

"That's the point Dad, you're not. You look like hell, you're losing weight and Mom's a wreck." I was kind of glad I wasn't the only one going to hell in a hand basket.

"Sweetheart, we'll either work it out, or not, but the two of you need to stay out of it, understand?" She gave me an ugly glare.

"Well, then I guess we'll just let you wallow in your self-pity. Call us when you're done." That went about as well as my meeting with her brother.

Doctor supplied anti-depressants got me through the next two months, or I thought they did. I was walking around in a haze, and sometimes I couldn't remember what day of the week it was, much less the problems that had gotten me to this point. Mandy and I hadn't talked in the last couple of weeks. I think she was finally getting tired of chasing me and holding out the olive branch. Little by little she was removing her clothes and other personal items from the house. Did I care? Hell, I was lucky to find my way home each night.

"Steve, take this." Barry said, handing me a slip of paper. "You've got an appointment at two o'clock this afternoon."

"What's this?"

"It's your therapist appointment."

"I don't need..." I started to say before he cut me off.

"Look, I don't pay people to sit at their desk and do nothing, and that's what you've been doing for weeks. Either go to the appointment, and get your self together, or start looking for another job." He wasn't giving me any more slack or options.

"Okay, I'll go."

"Good. Maybe then we can get back to normal, sooner rather than later."

Doctor Simon Cohen had the personality of a rock. He was professional, all business, and I hated to see what he was charging Barry. We spent the first two sessions talking about my initial conversation with Mandy and how it made me feel.

"How do you think it made me feel? Like shit, that's how it made me feel. My god damn wife was cheating on me behind my back after twenty-eight fucking years." I was starting to get angry all over again.

"Was she engaging in sex with this man?"

"She said no, but now I don't know if I can believe a single word she says."

"Had she lied to you in the past, that you know of?"

"I don't think so, but hell, I didn't have a clue what she'd been doing for what, four months. I'm probably a good candidate for the blind and stupid award." He wasn't amused.

"Steve, do you want to get back with your wife?"

"I guess that's the ten thousand dollar question now, isn't it? I still love her. It's just that I don't know if I can trust her, among other things." We spent the next three sessions talking about all the 'other things'.

"Do you want to invite your wife to theses sessions?" I was asked at the following week's session.

"Dr. Cohen, Mandy doesn't even know I'm seeing anyone."

"Well, I'd like to hear her take on this, if you don't mind. It may give me some insight into your problems." I grabbed a sheet of paper from the side table and wrote down her work e-mail address and cell phone number.

"If she wants to come and see you by herself, I don't have a problem with that. But, I'm not ready to sit down with her yet."

"I thought you said you were starting to get a handle on things?"

"Doc, starting is the key word here. I'm off the medication and finally getting my head around my issues. I lost two months somewhere, I need to get my own head together before I worry about Mandy."

Dr. Cohen and I spent the next two sessions talking about Mandy and our last ten years together, questioning why I thought my life was so perfect. For everything I told him, he asked either why, or had some other comment. He was never satisfied with anything I ever told him. When he asked me to write down all my issues on paper, I thought what a waste of time. It wasn't.

It took me five excruciatingly hard days to do it. I felt like I was in school again. I started writing on a note pad, but after I'd thrown away twenty plus sheets, I went to our home computer. This went a lot smoother because it had spell check. I am one of the worst spellers I know.

When he asked when I would be finished, I told him to give me another couple of days to reread it, it had gotten a lot longer than I ever thought it would be. There were too many things rattling around in my brain and I wanted to make sure I'd hit them all.

"I saw your wife yesterday," is how he opened our next session. "She told me to tell you she misses you."

"Well, I miss her too, but after reading this you might wonder why, like I have for the last couple of months." He looked puzzled as I handed him the three typed pages.

This time we talked about my kids, my work, everything except Mandy. I was glad when our session ended, since I was drained before it had even begun.

"I'll read this," Dr. Cohen said, indicating my typed pages, "and maybe we can discuss it at our next session." I nodded my approval. I walked out feeling worse than when I'd arrived.

I thought we were a team, but after thinking about it, and writing it all down, I now had my doubts. For the first time since Mandy left, I wasn't sure we would be spending the rest of our lives together.

Boring, that's what I had become, and so had our marriage.

In our late twenties, with young babies we had little or no time to ourselves. How we found the time for lovemaking, much less sleep, is still a mystery, but we did. We always managed to find time for ourselves.

In our thirties, I realized that I'd become the go-to parent. Scouts, football practice and games, dance classes, and every other function were now my responsibility. Mandy was working, going to school at night, and with her own homework to do, she had little time for much of anything else. My kids and I became the team. Don't get me wrong, Mandy made it to every event she could, and up until just recently I never even thought much about it. It's just that's the way it was.

Our forties were supposed to be our time. The kids were in college and things were less hectic. We still made love, but I was the one who always initiated it. Friends became her friends or my friends, not our friends. We both went to each other's functions, after all that's what husbands and wives do, don't they? As they say, with a spouse you always had a date for Valentine's Day and New Year's Eve. Mandy didn't particularly care for my friends because most were a little rough around the edges, and I didn't have much in common with her snobby bunch of professors, who made it abundantly clear that I wasn't intellectually up to their level, or so they thought.

The get-togethers with my friends were usually backyard barbeques or adult parties. Alcohol flowed and with the language and adult conversation, kids were not allowed. It was basically 'guy nights' with our wives there to serve us food and drinks. They were good sports about it because the guys cooked the food and cleaned up while the wives talked or should I say compared notes. On the way home I would find out all the dirt on everyone else. All in all, I thought we had the best marriage.