Third Try's a Charm

When I fully recovered I made my way back to the finish line to wait for Shannon. I never saw her cross it. Maybe she crossed while I was gasping for air after I had finished. I walked around for another couple of minutes—no Shannon.

When they posted the times I saw for the first time I'd broken eighteen minutes: seventeen minutes forty-nine seconds is what it had me listed at. I was smiling ear to ear when I got my medal. Everyone congratulated me on a great run. I was still floating on air when I got back to my car. Sweat continued to pour off me. Grateful I had remembered to bring a towel I proceeded to wipe down my sweaty ass, then the rest of me. I wrapped the towel around my neck, picked my cell phone up off the seat, and saw I had a text message.

"I think a thank you would be nice, even if we don't have breakfast together anymore," is what she'd texted me.

"Yeah, too bad. We used to have fun. How's breakfast with the new man in your life?"

I knew it was a cheap shot, but that's how I felt. If she had just said it was over, we had a good run, but it wasn't working for us, that would one thing. To want time away from each other, and then start dating without saying anything, that was crossing the frigging line, in my book, anyway.

Saturday was busy. After the race I worked at the store for the first couple of hours. Afterwards I went home, cut the grass, and planted some flowers in the front bed. By six o'clock I was just stepping into the shower when I heard the front door bell ring. "Damn," I said. I wrapped a towel around me and made my way down the stairs, flinging open the front door.

"If this is the way you greet people at your door, I'm going to have to come here more often," Shannon said with a bit of a laugh. I tightened my grip on the towel.

"Shannon, what do you want?" I replied in a not so nice tone of voice.

"To have that talk you promised me weeks ago."

"Look, I'm just getting ready to get in the shower," I started to say, but she pushed her way in. I shut the door behind her.

"That's all right, I'll wait for you in the kitchen." She walked through the living room into the kitchen. "Go take your shower, I'll just wait here." She sat down at my kitchen table. I was going to say something, but figured what the hell.

"Give me about twenty minutes and I'll be down."

"No hurry, I'm not going anywhere." I went upstairs.

I jumped into the shower and thought maybe she might surprise me and jump in with me, but that didn't happen. I put on clean jeans and a tee shirt since I planned on going out somewhere later, though I didn't know where. I figured I would decide where exactly I was going to go after making a few phone calls, but I knew sitting home lamenting my situation was not an option.

She was sipping on a bottle of water with her feet propped up on another chair when I came down half an hour later.

"You're as slow as a girl, I expected you fifteen minutes ago." I held my tongue going over to the refrigerator to grab a Corona. Leaning back against the counter it began.

"Okay Shannon, what do you have on your mind?" With that said, she sat up in the chair and put her water down.

"I don't like the way you talked to me. You treated me like I'm a little kid not an adult. You had concerns, stupid idiotic concerns, but concerns just the same. You never heard a word I said to you when I tried to reason with you. You had it in your mind that I was going to blow up into a fat pig as soon as I said, 'I do.' What would happen if and when I got pregnant? Would you ration what I could eat and God forbid, what would happen if I gained a few pounds? You were making both me and you crazy."

"I wasn't that bad."

"Steve, you were. Answer me this, did you love your mother before she died?"

"Of course I did."

"Even though she was fat?"

"I know where you're going with this. I never stopped loving my mother, but it about killed me to see what she was doing to herself. That's all I'm saying." I had started to raise my voice and needed to cool off a bit.

"Steve, you love the person not what they look like. If we were married, and something happened like I became crippled or disfigured, would you still love me, or would you be out there looking for a replacement?"

"That's a horrible thing to say, of course I'd still love you."

"Look, we can go round and round over this and bring out a million what ifs. I guess it all boils down to what is really important in a relationship. To me love, respect, and having a caring husband is what it's all about. If you can fit the bill great, if not, well, there are a lot of other guys out there."

"I guess you already found that out." It was another cheap shot, but I wanted to put all my cards on the table.

"Steve, that was uncalled for."

"Was it? Were we officially broken up when you started accepting lunch or dinner dates? Was there any kissing, handholding, or anything else? I just feel you blindsided and sucker punched me."

"I told you what I did, are you saying that you don't believe me? And if that's the case, maybe I don't want to talk to you any longer."

"Shannon, look at it from my perspective. We were exclusive but you wanted a little ME time to figure out if you still wanted me. As it turns out, you brought at least one more person into the mix. How am I supposed to feel? You were spreading your wings to figure it out with someone else, and don't give me this crap about it being CASUAL. There is no such thing as a casual date when you're in a relationship." I was starting to get angry.

"I didn't do anything."

"In your eyes, not mine. By the way, what was so fucking important that you couldn't meet with me that Saturday night? It had to be something life threatening, I'm sure of that."

"I went with Jerome to a business dinner with a client and his wife."

"He couldn't have gone alone?"

"Steve, I promised him, and I didn't tell you because I knew you wouldn't understand." She was right, I didn't understand.

"So in other words, he was more important than me?" I knew her next response was either going to make or break it for us.

"Steve, you own a hardware store and have a great job. I, on the other hand, have another month until I graduate. On top of that, I am working as an unpaid intern at a really great marketing firm. When Jerome asked me weeks ago to go to dinner with him and a client I had done the initial ad mockups for, I was flattered. But when my boyfriend asked me at the last minute to cancel so I could explain to him what an asshole he'd been, what do you think I was going to do? Give up a shot at making a name for myself, possibly getting the job I dreamed of, or smooth over a bruised ego? I guess you know which one I choose." She stood up and started making her way towards the front door.

"Good answer. I would have done the same thing." She stopped, turned around, and smiled at me. "I'm not going to say I like what you did, but I understand and support it." She screamed and ran into my out-stretched arms.

I'd like to say that we went to bed and made love all night—sorry to say, we didn't. That is the stuff you seen in the movies, real life is much different. We had issues we needed to talk through, which took until way past dinner. Shannon wanted me to be less controlling, and I needed for her to make sure she wanted me for who I was, not someone she wanted me to be. It was two weeks later before we finally and totally made up.

Shannon put it this way to me. "Okay, I won't try to change you, only you've got to ease up and stop being so controlling. Life is too short for you to be stressed out all the time. Just relax and you'll find things aren't always black and white, and the petty bullshit is just that, in the scheme of things not worth worrying about."

I think after that blowup we became even closer. Three months later I was on one knee, holding up a ring, asking her to be my wife. I think her exuberant reply was heard around the world. Shannon said she knew we would eventually be together, just that she thought I'd do it on a major holiday.

"If you want I can wait and maybe ask you later," I said, snapping the ring box shut.

"Not on your life, buster. You're mine, now and forever."

We had a splash because Shannon said this was the one and only wedding she will ever have. A wedding dress with a train four feet long is what she wanted and what baby girl wanted, her daddy made sure she got. I was relieved when the wedding was finally over, way too much drama for my comfort.

She had moved in with me three weeks before the wedding. We lived in sin as much as possible. After the wedding we honeymooned in a remote cabin in the Tennessee Mountains. Shannon lasted a total of three and a half days before saying she thought she was hearing banjos—it was time to leave. My girl needed city lights.

Shannon got the position she wanted with the marketing firm, and with both of our incomes we were able to buy out my sister's share of my parents' house.

Five months later a crazy happy Shannon let me know that she had a bun in the oven and I was going to be a daddy—and yes, it was planned. We thought we'd have our kids early and get them out of the way instead of changing diapers into our forties. She didn't have an easy pregnancy and had to go easy after her sixth month. I thought I'd have to commit her after the eighth month—she was bored, bloated, and tired of being pregnant.

Carla Sue was born October eighteenth at three thirty in the morning after eighteen hours of intense labor. I was tired—she was near total exhaustion—she made me promise that we'd adopt the next ones. Something about never wanting to go through that again kept coming up when after two months we started doing it again on a regular bases.

Four months later Shannon caught the flu and was sick most mornings for almost two weeks.

"Babes, if I didn't know better, I'd swear you were pregnant again," I jokingly said to her after she'd lost another night's dinner down the toilet.

"That's not something to even make a joke about. I want at least two-years between the kids, and my body needs time to get back in shape again. However, only a week later we got the good, or bad, news depending on if you were the father or the one carrying the baby. Shannon was not a happy camper.

"How in the hell did this happen? We were so damn careful. This is the last thing in the world I need right now. Shit, we're going to have two kids in diapers and forget about breastfeeding, my boobs are going to be dragging on the damn floor." She wasn't overjoyed.

Her mom was a lifesaver. She took care of Carla almost every day. This time the pregnancy went smooth as silk. Shannon was still carrying around a lot of her first baby weight, though she gained almost nothing this time around. Then it happened.

I was feeling a little frisky and had consumed one too many beers. I was chasing her around the bedroom and down the hall. Shannon stopped at the top of the stairs, I didn't. I ran into her and Shannon, even though she had a hold of my shirt, fell backwards down the stairs with me half a step behind her.

She was out cold before she hit the bottom step. A frantic call to 911 and four minutes later we were on our way to the hospital. Thank goodness the baby was not injured, Shannon, however, was not so lucky. She had dislocated her right shoulder and pulled two muscles in her lower back. She would be confined to bed for at least a month.

After that, I had a hard time even looking at her knowing it had been my fault. She was nice enough to say it was nothing more than a stupid accident, but the look in her eye sometimes said otherwise. After that, life was hard. Her mother came in the mornings, and I took care of the evening shift when I got home from work.

With a young toddler and a hurt wife I had my hands full. Shannon felt bad she couldn't help me, but I knew this was my penance and just sucked it up. I prayed everything would eventually turn out okay—it did.

Robert Thomas was born at ten after eight in the evening of November second. After three hours of labor she popped this one out, announcing that this was going to be her last. Shannon had her tubes tied before she even left the hospital. I guess she wasn't going to take any chances this time around.

For the first couple of weeks life was a little crazy, to say the least. We split up the feedings and other duties so one of us would always be rested. Shannon's mother was a constant source of support—and for that I was grateful.

Shannon's boss at Hamilton and Craig went beyond what I thought they would for a new employee. They paid her for all her sick time, vacation, and then gave her medical leave making sure her job was secure. After being home for ninety days Shannon went back to work full time.

The first nanny we hired was a total disaster. She didn't do much besides eat our food and watch television, including ordering pay per view movies. After two weeks she was gone. The next one was a young girl just out of college. She was going for her master's degree during the evening and her hours fit perfectly into our schedule. Everything was going great until my mother-in-law came over to see the kids. Since she has her own key she let herself in. When she didn't see anyone downstairs she proceeded up the stairs. Can you imagine her surprise when she found the babies in their cribs and the nanny humping her boyfriend on our bed? It got a little ugly when she terminated her on the spot and immediately stripped our bedding.

Shannon's mother stayed with the kids while we interviewed three more candidates. Marie was fifty-two and a widower. She had lost her husband four years prior. She was living on disability, something about a work related injury, and her husband's social security. She lived less than two miles from our house and with her own children out of the house she was looking for something to do. It was a win win situation for all of us. We ended up paying her a bit more than the others—she was well worth it. She made sure to have dinner started by the time we got home, the house was always clean and tidy, and so were the kids. We had a permanent nanny.

As I said, life at night was a little crazy, but after we got into a routine things got a little better. Shannon's back was still bothering her so running was out. I switched my workouts from right after work to early morning. That way by the time I got back I could get ready for work and help Shannon with the babies. After six months we became quite proficient at managing our expanded household. Things went back to where they were before all this madness started, and our life got back to being normal, or should I say our new normal. Even our store was doing better than ever. Life was pretty good.

When Sue got pregnant with her first, Shannon just rolled her eyes after hearing my sister said nothing would change.

"Sue," Shannon instructed her, "have as much sex as you can before the baby is born, because after that the honeymoon is over." Sue laughed. I didn't, I knew Shannon was right.

Up until having the kids we had it made. We could sleep in, have sex whenever we felt the urge, and take off on my motorcycle to this rally or that event. We were free. Now everything had to be planned for in advance. We couldn't just didn't pick up and go to a restaurant or any other place. If we didn't take the kids a baby sitter had to be called in, which meant our money for their time. If we did take them there was a baby bag to pack, along with strollers, time restraints, and finding places young children would be welcome. No more late night romantic dinners. The kids had to be in bed early and everything laid out for the next day. And as far as sex, we had been doing it non-stop, now even that had to be planned.

By the end of the day we were both whipped, though we snuck in a session whenever we had the time and energy. "If you want me, you had better hurry before I fall asleep," Shannon would announce as we tore off our clothes running for the bed. Quickies became the norm, so we made sure to take time for ourselves on either Saturday or Sunday. It was a little nuts, but I wouldn't give up our two babies for anything.

I'd like to say life went on without any conflicts, sadly real life isn't like that. With our children just about thirteen months apart the first two years were strained, to say the least. I was putting in about forty-five hours at my main job and another ten at the store. Shannon, on the other hand, was putting in about thirty-five at work followed by another ten more at home on her laptop. It was the best we could manage for the time being. One good thing was that after almost a year between physical therapy and the chiropractor her back no longer hurt. However, both her chiropractor and physical therapist warned her that if she felt any pain doing anything, to stop.

"Forget what people have told you about no pain no gain. If you feel any pain whatsoever, stop what you are doing right then and there. The back is one thing that can cause you problems for the rest of your life if you injure it, so be careful." I made damn sure she followed their advice, no running for her yet.

How long Shannon held in her resentments I'm not sure. I only realized it when I was lacing up my running shoes one Sunday about six thirty in the morning.

"You going running?" she asked, looking at me.

"Just going out for a couple miles. I should be back in less than an hour." I gave her a kiss and told her to go back to sleep.

Five and a half miles, that's all I did. For me it was a great way to not only clear my mind but to also work on any problems I had. I love running and it had been forever since Shannon and I had done it together—I really missed that. We ran while she was pregnant with Carla, stopping at her seventh month. After that, she would ride her bike while I ran. However, after her eighth month she no longer even biked.

"Have a nice run?" she inquired, watching as I stripped off my sweaty clothes.

"Yeah, it was really nice out this morning, a little too crowded on the trail, though."

"See anyone interesting?" I knew immediately what she meant. "No one as hot as my wife, if that's what you're asking?" She smiled—it looked forced.

"I'd love to run again, maybe I'd lose some of this damn weight," she said slapping her thighs. "I haven't even lost the baby weight from Carla much less Robert," she moaned in disgust. "How can you love a fat pig like me?" There lay the problem.

"Don't worry, you'll drop the baby weight and be back to running in no time. We'll get a couple of jogging strollers, and be off." I looked optimistic, she didn't.

Over the next five months Shannon became a lot busier. She had a real talent and became more and more in demand. There were now seminars, design classes, and more than a few evening meetings with clients. During all this time she gained more weight instead of losing any. When I suggested a nutritionist, Shannon told me not to worry because after she got a handle on her new accounts she was going on a strict diet. I was happy about that. She wasn't obese, but she had to be at least forty pounds overweight. When I told our nanny to make diet dinners, I got chastised for doing it without checking with her first.

"Steve, don't worry about my weight, I've already lost five pounds. Please, just let me do it my way, okay?" She was put in charge of meals again, however, it didn't help.

"Sue, she can't seem to lose any weight. I don't know what she's eating at work, since I make sure there is no junk in the house for her to munch on. I am concerned if this continues her health will suffer, and who knows, that extra weight could maybe strain her back out again."

"For some people it's hard to lose weight. Give her time and don't bug her about it. She probably feels bad enough without you riding her."