Sign of the Times

When I got finished I had the bully in a different class, and I got apologies from everybody. I got apologies from the principal, the vice-principal, and the teacher. That's when it occurred to me bullies are kind of like members of a club; they like to hang together. So the bully teacher stood up for the bully kid; sounds stupid but maybe it was a little bit true.

Yeah, talk about a cover up! Oh yeah I was Woodward and Bernstein. I was Ken Starr. And the teacher; well her ass was grass, and I was the lawnmower! I always wanted to say that.

I was so proud of myself for all that I did for my kid. I thought Daphne was proud of me too. I know Brandy and the kids were proud of me. I mean I really came through that time!

So if it wasn't money, and it wasn't sex, and it might not have been affection then what was it? There's only one answer; it's me. She doesn't love me, not any more. I read up; some women have what the experts call 'exit affairs'. A woman realizes she doesn't love her husband anymore so she shops around until she finds someone new, she finds a replacement. Jesus God almighty; Daphne shopped around and picked Ralph Stevens? That's really fucked up! Ralph Stevens was my replacement! I wanted to die all over again when I realized that!

Damn it! Here I am cussing like a sailor in my head. I never cuss. I've got kids! I've got a wife and two girls; a father doesn't use profanity in front of their kids, especially not girls. I've been a good dad too. At least I think I have. I've tried to be like my dad. He's a man; he's a real man. I mean he did all right by us. He did all right by me, Hillary, and my older brother Chris. I need to see Chris.

Chris is my hero. He's my big brother. He was my star when I was growing up. I tried to be like him. I never quite measured up, but I tried. Heck, when he started dating Daphne I sort of knew I needed to check her out. I mean all my friends had been with her, then my brother. If my brother liked her there had to be something there.

I can't exactly explain how I wangled my way between Chris and Daphne, but somehow I did. I never quite figured that out, but I ended up with the girl who turned out to be the girl of my dreams. Girl of my dreams; now she was my nightmare!

I remember back in high school. Daphne's like almost two years older, but she was only one year ahead of me grade-wise so I saw her almost every day. She was pretty. I mean really pretty. She took all the 'A' courses. She wore these pleated miniskirts and crisp white and colored blouses. I can see her now leaning up to kiss Brian Ahearn. Back then Brian was one of my friends. God she looked so hot. I remember how she kissed him and looked all around. She saw me and sort of kind of smiled. Jesus was that a great smile or what?

++++++++++

We got back to mom and dads, parked the car and went in. Dad didn't look so good. I was afraid maybe what was happening to me was getting to him. We all pulled up some chairs at the kitchen table and talked some more. I've often noticed, no matter who it was, no matter the family, the kitchen is like the 'war room'. That's where all the arguments and all the decisions are made. Well there we were in the war room.

Mom told us right away, "Daphne's been calling. Cale did you know your cell phone's been turned off? Daphne's been trying to reach you. Geena and Brandy have been calling too. Cale you've got to do something; your girls are a wreck, especially your daughters. They think it's their fault. Daphne told us she told them what you saw, but they don't want to believe her. Cale I don't care if Daphne's been sleeping with the whole state National Guard, you've got to work this out. Your kids are a mess."

Dad piped in, "Chris can't make it home right now. He's isn't available, but he'll be home in a few months. I can't tell you why he can't get home except to say he's really totally occupied. It's kind of 'top secret'. He gave me the full dope, but he made me promise. He said he'd get home as soon as he could and do what he could. Cale he's worried sick about you. He doesn't believe Daphne's having an affair. He says there has to be a mistake somewhere."

Then Hillary filled them in. Mom and dad wanted me to go over to my house and talk to Daphne, but I told them I wouldn't do it. I was afraid to tell them the real reason. I knew how it would end up. I'd be on the floor begging her not to leave me. I'd break down. I'd be crying like a baby. I'd lose all my self-respect. I knew I was a total waste as a man, a real wimp. I just didn't have any pride. I was too scared to face my wife.

It bothered me about the kids, but they were like this Trojan Horse. If I went to see them; even if I just talked to them all my protective walls would come tumbling down. I needed to hide. I needed to crawl in a hole somewhere and just pull the dirt in over me. The beach would be my grave. She was leaving me for another man. I just knew it, and it tore me up inside. I was inadequate. I wished I was dead.

So I loaded my pick-up. I got in and took off. On the way I stopped at a Walmart and bought some more stuff. I started for the beach.

I cried all the way down. I was alone in the truck. No one saw me so I figured it was all right.

++++++++++

I got to the beach. As it was still officially winter, weather wise anyway, I had no difficulty finding a place. I did not go to any of the three Holiday Inns. I found the newest Marriott; it had an indoor pool, a clean restaurant that served good local seafood, and my room had a brand new hot tub. I picked up some Pepsis and a couple bags of French Onion potato chips, turned on the television, plopped down to watch some old Fred Astaire/Ginger Rogers movie, and I started to have myself another really good cry.

They say crying is a kind of cathartic. Well I don't believe it. The more I cried the worse I felt. Hillary called Tuesday evening, and we had another unhappy conversation.

I answered the phone and Hillary started right in, "Cale I delivered the separation agreement. It was a pretty short document. It detailed what we talked about with the lawyer. Daphne asked me to stay a few minutes so I did."

I asked, "Did she understand it? How did she handle it?"

"Oh she understood it all aright. I thought she was going to get mad, but she surprised me she just sort of read it and didn't say anything. It was kind of eerie. Daphne's a talker. You know that. She just read the thing, stared at it, and put it down. She just kept staring off into space; it was like she was in another world. It was as though she had something on her mind that had nothing to do with anything. She asked me how you were doing. I told her you were devastated. She asked me if she thought you'd talk to her. I told her probably not, at least not for a while. She said a couple things I didn't understand after that but then..."

I interrupted, "Did she cry or anything?"

"No she didn't cry, but I could tell she'd been crying. I don't think she's been to work yet this week. She looks really depressed. I didn't see the kids. They'd left for school when I got there."

"What else did she say?"

"Well Cale she said she goofed up right after you confronted her. She said some things she wished she could take back. She told me what she said about how what we saw wasn't anything and that it didn't mean anything. She said she didn't mean for it come out the way it did. She tried to tell me what was going on with Ralph Stevens wasn't an affair. She said it wasn't anything like that at all."

I was curious, "What did she mean by that?"

"Cale it's hard to say. She wasn't very coherent. She kept skipping around. First she talked about the kids, then about you, then Chris, and then she was talking about your old friends like Brian and Ellis Goodwood, and then even Ralph. She kept going back to Chris. She wasn't making any sense.

She kept saying how sorry she was. She kept apologizing, but she wasn't apologizing to me, and it didn't sound like she was trying to apologize to you either. She sounded all confused. She asked about your mom and dad. She's worried about our dad; you know his heart and the emphysema."

"Tell me Hillary what did you tell her about our parents and about Chris?"

"She forgot she mentioned Chris when I brought him up again. I told her mom and dad were taking this pretty hard. Cale that really cracked her shell. I mean up to then it was like she was adrift, like in some dream world. The mention of your dad not doing well made her burst into tears. She said she'd made a mistake, but that no one would understand. Cale you know she sounded real far-off; it didn't sound like she was talking about Stevens or the Holiday Inn."

I started to sniff. I was angry with Daphne, but it tore my ass to hear that she was crying about my dad. I asked Hillary, "Didn't she understand that it's her fault my dad is reacting the way he is?"

Hillary tried to explain something to me, but I'm not sure I understood, "Cale Daphne thinks if she could just talk to you that you'd understand. She told me you forgot your medicine. But she said she couldn't say what you needed to hear. Then she went off again about how sorry she was. She started talking about the way things used to be. She was talking like everything was in the past tense. By past tense it sounded like she was referring to herself in the past tense. Cale she didn't sound like herself. I'm worried Cale. Maybe you should come home. I think she needs you."

'Needs me,' I thought, 'now there's a good one,' I told Hillary I wasn't coming home, not yet anyway, but she should keep me informed about the children. I worried about them especially. After Hillary hung up I went to the bathroom. All the Sour Cream and Onion chips made a return performance. Yeah I'd forgotten my stomach medicine.

I have a hiatal hernia. The doctor told me and Daphne that hernia was a misnomer people used for what I had. All it meant was I had a nervous condition and my stomach pushed up against my esophagus and larynx, and that caused acid reflux.

Daphne put one of my pills out beside my breakfast meal every morning. Yeah, Daphne made me eat something every day before I went to work. I always had whatever the kids had. If they had oatmeal, I had oatmeal. If she fixed them a poached egg, I got a poached egg.

She had a routine, oatmeal on Mondays, poached eggs were Tuesday, French toast Wednesday, pancakes were Thursday, and scrambled eggs came Friday. I fixed breakfast on the weekends. I took Prevacid, and since she always remembered my pills for me I'd forgotten to get them when I left Saturday.

Crap Daphne even fixed me a lunch pail when we were first married. I made her stop because everybody teased me at work. What they really teased me about was the way she'd cut up my apples; she put lime juice or something on the exposed parts so it wouldn't turn brown.

She's amazing; she'd get me and the kids off to school and work, and then she'd get ready for work herself. When the girls were babies she'd hang around till either her mother or mine came to babysit while she went to work.

Lately since the girls and Michael are now in school one of our mom's doesn't have to get to our house until the afternoon just before the school busses dropped them off. Daphne coordinates who babysits what afternoons with our moms. If neither mom can get over Daphne comes home from work early. I don't have to do anything.

Lately Geena's been helping with things like emptying the dishwasher and the dusting, but she's not allowed to help is she hasn't gotten her homework done. Daphne makes me check the kid's homework. I know she's already checked it, but it's her way to make sure I'm still involved.

I have my chores too. I'm supposed to take out the trash, see to it our vehicles are safe and inspected, and lately I've been told I have to run the vacuum.

Daphne says with the new carpet it hurts her back to push the vacuum. I don't mind. I like to vacuum. I like the way I can make real straight lines across the carpet using the tumbler at the bottom of the vacuum. I pretend like I'm a farmer plowing really straight rows in the soil although it's only just the carpet.

I did all the snow blowing this winter. Daphne and the kids watched from inside while I cleared the sidewalk and the drive. I felt good about that. I felt kind of proud.

One time this past winter we all made a snowman. Gee that was fun; cold but fun. When we finished we all went inside. Daphne made us all cacao, and while we drank the cacao Daphne put all our wet clothes in the dryer and hung up our heavy coats. Then while we all took a nap Daphne made a big bowl of vegetable soup.

In the summer I do the lawn, but Daphne has her flower beds. The girls try to help with the flowers, but they get tired pretty fast. The kids wanted a pool in the backyard, but we poo pooed that idea. Too many kids drown in backyard pools. Daphne and I set up some horseshoe pits and a place to play croquette instead. We use rubber rings in place of metal horseshoes.

I won't have to worry about any chores any more. Daphne drives a minivan. I'll certainly keep up with that. I'm going to miss the breakfasts. I'm going to miss a lot of things. Daphne's a great cook. I'll miss her homemade lasagna, and her crab cakes are to die for.

Sometimes we used have formal dinners at home; that was usually a Friday night thing. Daphne would get out the wine glasses, fill them with grape juice, and then serve up a special meal; we'd have salads, sometimes homemade soup, a special entree, and then maybe a Mrs. Smith's pie. Daphne did this so the kids would learn proper etiquette.

These things didn't happen on Sundays. Sunday dinners we alternated between her mom and mine. Sometimes both sets of parents would meet and we all eat together. Daphne's an only child.

I can't help it. I know I'm going to be doing a lot of crying this week. I used to love the beach; I guess not so much anymore.

++++++++++

It's funny how we always remember the exact time and place when something really important happens. I mean what American doesn't remember where they were and what they were doing on 9-11-01?

Well I guess things came crashing down for me the first time at 1:15 p.m. Saturday, when I saw Daphne come out of room 241 at the Holiday Inn. But then it was like a second building came tumbling down at 1:10 p.m. Wednesday afternoon. I was sitting in the hot tub drinking an Orange juice when my cell phone rang. 'Aha', I thought, 'the evil one has finally condescended to make the call.' I picked up and opened the phone, no such luck; it was Hillary, I opened it up, "OK, Hillary what's up?"

She didn't mince any words, "Come home right away now!"

'Christ,' I thought, 'one of the kids is hurt!' I asked, "What is it?"

"Daphne's in the hospital. She's at Good Christian. Get here, and like right away!"

To say the least I was stricken; had she been in an accident? What, had she fallen down the steps? I knew we should have carpeted the damn stairs, "Tell me Hillary what is it?"

"Daphne's taken something. She may die."

Oh Jesus Christ! Holy shit! I answered, "I'm on my way!" All thoughts of infidelity, pay back, divorce flew right out the window! Daphne was in trouble! I had to get home right away!

I leaped out of the tub. I dried off as quickly as I could, slipped on a pair of jeans, a Tee shirt, and my moccasins. I rode the elevator down, threw the key card at the girl at the desk, "You can pack up my stuff. I'll pick it up later. I was in the parking garage, in my pick-up, and gone in twenty minutes. I never did go back for my stuff.

I didn't speed. I didn't want to get pulled over, but I knew the routine; stay just about ten miles over the limit and they won't bother you. I had better than a half a tank of gas. I could get there without having to stop.

Traffic was a little rough through some of the towns, but it was only real bad when I got to the I95 and I695 cut offs. I was careful; I followed the traffic, and got through it pretty good. I was finally at the hospital by 6:45 p.m. I ran in the emergency room and shouted out my wife's name. My dad and Daphne's dad intercepted me. Hillary and her husband were there too.

My dad got to me, "Son she's stable now, but it was kind of a close call."

"Where's mom," I asked?

Dad replied. Boy was he calm, "Your mom's with her now. They had to pump her stomach..."

I jumped at that, "What?"

Hillary was beside me, "Cale it looks like she might have tried to do something really foolish."

"Oh God no," was my response.

"She got somebody's pills. It looks like she took a whole bottle of some kind of medication. The doctor says it looks like Xanax, maybe Valium, but most likely Xanax."

I remembered back a couple years earlier there'd been a rumor our business was coming under scrutiny, possibly for fraud. Well I'd panicked. Our family doctor prescribed Xanax to help me get to sleep and calm my nerves. He'd given me several refills; three I think. Daphne, in her usual organized way refilled the pills when she thought the pharmacist would allow it whether I'd used all the pills or not. I'd completely forgotten about them, but Daphne must have stowed them away someplace safe. She hadn't forgotten.

I rushed up to the nurse's desk, "My name is Cale McCallister. My wife is Daphne McCallister. When can I see her?"

The nurse politely smiled. She handed me one of those guest cards and said, "Go right in. She's in room thirty-one. Here I'll open the door for you," with that I watched her push a button and the automated door slowly opened.

I was down the hall and into room thirty-one in a split second. Mom was there. Daphne was in bed; she looked like she was asleep. I went up close. God she looked awful! I crept up next to her, leaned down and whispered, "Daphne, it's me."

She slowly opened her eyes, she graced me with one of those soft languid smiles I'd learned to love so much, then the smile disappeared and her face metamorphosed into a look of bitter sadness, I mean abject misery. She whispered, "I read your proposals. I saw a lawyer late Tuesday evening. We worked up a counter set," she started to say more, but stopped. She turned and looked away like she was staring way off in the distance.

I thought I should say something. I wanted to tell her I forgave her. I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I didn't have a clue. I whispered back, "OK."

I heard my mother sigh. I turned around; I saw what had to be a grimace, and then a look of almost devastating disgust. I didn't quite know what to do so I turned back around to Daphne. I took her right hand in my two hands. I gently squeezed. She opened her eyes again, but didn't reply.

All of a sudden all the hospital machinery connected to her started to buzz and make noises. Pretty quick a nurse followed by a doctor slipped in the room. I thought, 'Wow that was quick, getting a doctor that fast.'

The nurse smoothly shunted me aside and started tending to my wife. The doctor approached me, "Are you the husband?"

I responded, "Yes."

He said, "Maybe we could step outside a moment."

Together he and I stepped into the corridor. My mom tugged my sleeve and said she'd be outside and down the hall with dad and Hillary. I nodded and turned back to the doctor.

The doctor, his name was Poniatowski, it said so on his name tag. He spoke to me, "She's had a tough time of it. For a while we weren't sure. She took a mean overdose of Xanax," he seemed to shrug, "We're still a little concerned. We'll certainly be keeping her here for a day or two, but before we release her to go home we'd like to make as certain as we can she won't be back again. It's none of our business, but do you have any idea why she'd consider doing what she seems to have tried?"