Speed of the Sound of Loneliness Ch. 02

We sat quietly on the sofa for a few moments and I became conscious of some Christmas music playing softly on the stereo. It was a peaceful moment and I looked at Molly and I thought for a moment that she looked unhappy. I was pretty sure I knew what was wrong and on the spur of the moment, I slid down the sofa and put my arm around her.

"Merry Christmas, Molly." I said softly and kissed her gently on the lips. She collapsed into me and tears came silently. We didn't say another word for quite a while. I just sat there holding her. The tears must have stopped after a while, but she just stayed in my arms as the music played quietly in the background. Some people go to church on Christmas Day and some reconnect with their family. I wasn't sure what was happening just yet but I began to realize that my anger was gone. I just felt sad for Molly and I wondered how I could make things better for her.

"Have you called the kids yet?" I asked softly.

"No ... have you?" she said, he head coming up to look at me.

"Not yet. Why don't we do it now? It's about noon in Oregon and two in Iowa. We should be able to get them both if we're lucky."

Molly nodded and I untangled myself from her and rose to get the phone. I dialed Bonnie's number in McMinnville and waited as the phone rang. I young voice came on the other end and I knew it was Casey, our grandson.

"Hello Casey, it's Grampa. Merry Christmas." I started and fifteen minutes and two more grandchildren later, we finally got to talk to Bonnie and Dave. To say that they were surprised to hear that we were together today was an understatement but neither seemed to want to ask the question I know they were dying to ask. I thought we could talk about that at another time. This was Christmas and a time to talk about happy things. Molly was on the bedroom extension and did a lot of listening until she and Bonnie got started. The call lasted almost an hour and when we signed off, Molly came out of the bedroom with a smile and a happier look on her face than earlier.

"Could you tell they were just busting to find out what was going on?" she asked.

"Yah ... maybe when we figure it out, we can tell them." I said sardonically.

"Let's try Brent." she said, changing the topic quickly.

I went back to the phone and placed a call to our son in Sioux City. It rang several times before his answering machine clicked in. I left a Merry Christmas message asking him to call us if he got a chance and then Molly left a similar message. Once again, it would confuse the hell out of our son, but I didn't mind and I was sure he would take something positive from it. Again, Molly came from the bedroom and looked happy. We had made the two calls together and I don't think she ever expected that.

She went to the kitchen to check on the turkey and organize the vegetables. I went out to the car to get the two bottles of wine, a white and a red, from the trunk where I was sure they would stay cool. As I returned to the house, Molly was standing at the door with a shocked look on her face. It took me a few seconds to realize the reason. She had never seen the car before and she must have been wondering where it had come from.

"Is that your car?" she finally asked.

"Yes ... it's a company car. I use it for business and personal driving." I stated simply.

"It's beautiful. So shiny and new. What is it?" she asked; knowing full well whatever I told her would bring her little enlightenment. She wasn't a car person and hadn't driven in many years. I think it was at that point that I made a decision that was probably going to alter our relationship again. I owed her an explanation about my life and I had to quit hiding who I was and what I was doing. I thought it might be risky, but for the life of me, I couldn't think why.

"It's a Toyota Camry. They make them near Lexington. It really is a great car. I've never had a car as nice as this before." I admitted.

As I followed Molly into the kitchen, I left the bottle of red on the counter and put the white in the fridge. There was plenty of room and I noticed how sparse the fridge looked. In fact, it looked a lot like the fridge in my apartment. When you live alone, you don't need a lot of stuff and if you don't use it, it often goes bad. I searched the drawers for the corkscrew and found it in the back of the flatware drawer; unused for many months no doubt. I opened the red to let it breathe and went to the dining room buffet for two old crystal wine glasses and brought them to the kitchen.

"Do you need any help, Molly?" I asked.

"No, I'm just about finished for a while. I thought I'd make dinner for about six, so you wouldn't be too late heading home." she said matter-of-factly.

"Good. Why don't I pour you a glass of wine and we can sit down for a while. I think it's time I told you what's been happening in my life."

She had a surprised look on her face as I poured the wine and walked back into the Living Room with both glasses. Once again I sat on the sofa, but this time angled toward her and she sat not quite so far away herself. We were within reach of each other and I didn't mind that at all.

I guess I hummed and hawed and stammered and stumbled, trying to get going; telling her about the last six months. I hadn't rehearsed the story because I didn't even know I was going to tell her any of this today. I started with my visit to Doctor Chapman and went from there. I told her about the diet, walking, swimming and the pills I now took daily. I told her about the stress leave, Sandivale firing me and trying to cheat me from my rightful severance. I told her about Interstate; the job interviews, the job offer, salary, bonuses, profit sharing, car, travel, the new friends I'd made at work; in short, everything. I told her how happy I was with my new life, my new job and my future. I didn't tell her that I was still lonely. I did tell her I was thinking about buying a new house in Drayton; not just an apartment or condo. Finally, I admitted that I couldn't believe my luck in the past months. I just couldn't believe it.

While I was pouring out this story I was also watching her for her reaction. I saw smiles, looks of surprise, and maybe a bit of envy. I thought maybe I was laying it on a bit thick to make her see what she had lost, but then I remembered my recurring belief that none of it would have happened if she hadn't done what she did last June. I continued to be torn between the horrific feeling that Saturday morning and the unexpected good fortune that had befallen me since. When I finished telling her my tale, I sat back, sipping my wine and waiting for her reaction.

Molly seemed to be lost in thought. She looked like she was battling her emotions and I thought it wise to wait for her and not interrupt.

"You've really done very well since ... you left. It's no wonder you don't seem like the same man. You aren't, are you?" she said carefully.

"No ... no, I'm not ... and I never will be again." I said with a definite stamp.

"Does that mean ... there's no place for me anymore?" she asked timidly with a frightened look.

"No, Molly. It doesn't mean that at all. But, if I'm not the same man, then we're going to have to start all over again to discover who we are and if we can fit together. Does that make sense?" I asked.

"Yes ... I think so." She sounded relieved. "Maybe I'd better get the dinner ready now. I'm getting hungry." she said with a quick smile.

We had been talking for more than an hour; or at least I had. It must have been a bit overwhelming for her. I found that as I told her my story, it was with a sense of pride and accomplishment. I wanted her to know the new me and I wanted her to like the new me. I had lost that feeling that I wanted to hit back; to exact revenge. That was another part of me that had changed. Now we had to decide where to go from here; if anywhere. I wasn't even sure she wanted to try and so at some point I had to ask her. It could wait. The smell of the freshly cooked turkey was working my appetite up as well and I went to the kitchen to see if I could help.

I was able to do a couple of menial tasks to assist Molly while she got the final stages of the dinner ready. It was a small kitchen and we could easily get in each other's way, but unlike the past, Molly didn't seem to mind. Finally, I pulled the bottle of white out of the fridge and opened it; putting it on the table. The meal was wonderful. Molly could cook a fine meal; we just had fallen into that old trap of simple, easy to make things that pretty much represented how our marriage had gone. What was good had deteriorated in to what was easy. There wasn't much conversation at the dinner table; we were too busy eating and truly enjoying the meal. I must have complimented her more than a couple of times because she got a bit embarrassed at all the praise. The truth was, I hadn't had a good home cooked meal in a long, long time.

Molly had made a light dessert and it was all I could do to finish it. My appetite was considerably less than it had been and I must have surprised her when I declined seconds and asked for a small portion of the dessert. She never had been a big eater, but in the past I could easily manage double the amount I had consumed tonight. Nonetheless, I was a happy and sated man and we savored our wine when we finally finished the meal. I took our glasses back to the Living Room while Molly made coffee and I returned to my now usual place on the sofa. I was going to need that coffee before I drove home and the thought crossed my mind that I had consumed a fair bit of wine. I had better cool it before trying to drive.

We sat even closer together on the sofa this time. I was turned toward her and at one point I reached out and took her hand; holding it lightly. I didn't know how she would react to that, but I felt it was time to reconnect and see what was there for us. She squeezed my hand giving me a timid smile and a hopeful look.

"Do you want us to try again?" I asked simply.

She nodded, seemingly too frightened to speak.

"I'm glad. I want us to try again too." I said, pulling her toward me. "It will be better this time Molly, I promise you."

Again she folded into my arms and kissed me several times with passion and squeezing me tightly.

"It's all I wanted for Christmas, Jack. I made a horrible mistake and I want to make it right." she said; her voice muffled by my chest.

"No Molly. You didn't make a mistake. I did. I took you for granted. I took our marriage and our life together for granted and when you finally got fed up with it, you did the only thing you could do ... force me to change or just go away. I guess it could have gone either way, but it didn't and I pride myself in not making the same mistake twice."

"Oh Jack. I've been so lonely without you; even the old you. I thought you were still angry with me. I thought I had made things worse, not better."

I laughed unexpectedly and she looked up at my face. "Molly, if you were pining for the old me, you needed therapy." I looked at her and pulled her into my embrace once more. We kissed and just sat there, holding each other as we had before. It felt very, very good.

"Jack ... will you stay with me tonight?" she asked hopefully.

"Yes ... I'll stay. Just tell me where you want me to sleep." I almost whispered.

"With me ... in our bed ... with me."

I nodded and pulled her to me again.

-0-

Speed of the Sound of Loneliness is from the John Prine songbook. John is a good 'ole boy from Southern Indiana.