In the Distance
The silence between us was like the dull ache of a rotting tooth. In the darkness, I stared blankly at the ceiling and listened to myself breathing. I knew she wasn’t asleep either. It had been months, maybe even years, since she had gone to sleep before me.
Night after night, we’d lay there, almost like we were waiting for something to be said, waiting for … I don’t know.
If you asked me how things got so bad between us, I wouldn’t know what to say. Just like when I come through the door now and Jenny asks, “Where have you been?” Before a single word comes out of my mouth, my mind is in turmoil. What does she mean?
And so it starts. And then it ends, in silence. Waiting.
But do you want to know the truth? I love Jenny. Desperately. That’s the truth. And it will always be the truth.
She doesn’t know though. She doesn’t know how much I think about her. She doesn’t know all the things I notice. The little strand of hair that she catches between her lips when she’s nervous. The way she reaches out and touches the arm of a friend she bumps into unexpectedly. The light in her eyes when she laughs.
It’s been a long time since I saw her laugh.
I told her my favorite joke on our first date. She laughed so hard. Her head tipped back, her dark hair flipped to the side, and her white teeth flashed. Nothing forced. Nothing fake. Nothing to hide. That’s when I started loving her. I was so nervous. She was way out of my league. But then she laughed. And she touched my arm. And I felt like I could take flight.
That day seems now like a dream. Like a movie I watched once.
The window was open and I heard a large truck rumble down the empty street outside. Jenny took a deep breath and I thought I heard the hint of a sigh. Instinctively, I took a deep breath too.
“Where have you been?”
That is the question. Where have I been? Where did I go, what was so distracting, how did I let the only thing that mattered to me slip out of my hand?
Chapter 2
I leaned back in my office chair behind my desk. I looked at Travis who was still jotting down notes from the assignment I’d just given him.
“Hey, Trav, can I ask you something?” I said.
“Sure, Brian,” he said without looking up from his notes.
“Well, it’s kind of a personal question,” I added.
Travis paused and looked up. He was one of those young, bright-eyed associates we liked to hire while they still were full of ambition and energy.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked.
“You’re married, right?”
“Yeah,” Travis responded with a nod.
“Do you think most married people are happy? I mean really happy?”
“I’d say, more are than not.”
I looked him in the eye. “Would you say you’re truly happy then?” I asked.
“You mean like in my relationship?” he looked at me kind of sideways.
“Yeah,” I answered.
“Well, yeah. Marriage has been great for me.”
Travis paused. I could tell he was about to ask me.
“Thanks, Trav. Hey, I’ll look for that report on my desk in the morning.”
At lunch, I went for a long walk through downtown. Twice I pulled out my phone. I remember when Jenny and I used to talk. It seemed like we couldn’t wait to share everything. Big things, small things, hopes, insecurities—everything. It used to seem so easy.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket and headed back to my building.
Chapter 3
The first hints of dawn were filtering through the bedroom window. It was Saturday. Normally, I would have slept late. But I found myself wide awake.
I rolled over to see if Jenny was awake too. But she was sleeping soundly. The soft light brought out the best in her features. I found myself studying her face. She was so peaceful. I noticed the way her mouth turned up at the corners, as if in a permanent smile. My eyes followed down the curve of her neck and remembered the many times that I used to snuggle into that space below her ear and how she would giggle and pull away every time.
Her right hand was on top of the blanket, laying on her stomach. I looked at her perfectly manicured nails and the daintiness of her fingers. I remembered the way she held my hand so tightly as we walked up the stairs to her parents house when I was to meet them for the first time. I swear there was no blood reaching my fingertips by the time walked through the door.
Her dad didn’t like me much at first. No one was good enough for his little girl. I always said that I finally wore him down. But I’ll never forget the way he looked at me on our wedding day. He stared me down and without saying a word, he let me know that he still had his doubts about me.
But with that same hand that she had used to crush my fingers on the doorstep, she patted my chest when I told her about the “stare down.” It was her way of reassuring me. I liked how I felt when she touched me like that. I was sure we were going to be OK. I wanted so much to take care of her. To show him, show that I was a man.
Suddenly, I realized the ache that was crushing the center of my chest. All the emptiness between that day and this moment seemed like it was literally sucking the life out of me. I wanted to reach out and take her hand again. But I couldn’t reach. It was too far.
I placed my hand on the blanket next to her arm. Jenny’s eyes opened and she immediately turned to look at me. I tried to smile.
“What?” she snapped.
“Nothing,” I whispered.
She pulled her arm away from my hand and flashed me a stinging glare.
“Were you just staring at me?” she asked as she turned on her side away from me.
“No, I was just thinking … ” I said.
“Yeah, I know what you think about,” she said, pulling the blanket tightly around her.
“Why do you have to do that?” I could feel my blood rising.
“Don’t start, Brian. It’s Saturday, I want to rest.”
“Jenny, I was thinking about our wedding day.”
She let out a half chuckle. I was stunned.
“I guess that’s about right,” I snapped. “Our marriage is a joke to you?”
Jenny sat up and turned to look at me. “What are you doing, Brian? What? Our marriage? What marriage? You’re not going to sit there and pretend that—that you’re some kind of loving devoted husband. I’ve been here for eight years, Brian. Eight years! I know what we have.”
Chapter 4
William Graham was a senior partner at the firm where I worked. He bore the scars of corporate America and though he could be demanding and hard-nosed, I always knew that he had a more thoughtful side.
I think when I first joined the firm, he had seen me like a project. When I was sweating out the 100 hour weeks that were expected of a brand new associate, William Graham would occasionally stop by my office. He’d just ask me how things were going. But behind his stoic, wrinkled face, I could tell there was more to the question.
At a Christmas party one year, I introduced Jenny to him. He grabbed her hand and said, “You know that we think your husband is a star. I just hope we don’t burn him out too fast.”
It had meant a lot to me at the time. William Graham had called me a star. I had tried to explain it to Jenny. But she saw it very differently. While I heard “star,” she only heard “burn out.”
It was a Tuesday. I was rushing to get a report out to one of our largest clients. William Graham appeared in the doorway of my office. “Brian, let’s go to lunch.”
I stood and stared at him for a moment. Senior partners didn’t go out to lunch. There was always a deal to close, a new lead to chase, a trend in the markets that needed to be analyzed.
“I … I’ve got to get this report—”
“It’ll wait, Brian,” he said firmly. “Grab your coat. We’re going.”
We were seated at a corner table at a small Italian bistro. Without ever looking at the menu, William gave the waitress his order. She turned to me. “I’ll have the same,” I said as I handed her my menu.
“Brian, you know I’ve always valued what you bring to our company.”
I swallowed hard. “Thank you, sir.”
Chapter 5
Mr. Graham paused. He was never one to choose his words carefully. Every microsecond that passed felt like an invisible vice tightening around my chest.
“Brian,” he finally said, “your performance has dropped off dramatically.”I knew he was right. I had been distracted for weeks. Details that never slipped before were now catching me by surprise every day.
“There’s been some talk that we should cut you loose.”
I looked down at the table. “I understand, sir.”
“No, Brian!” he snapped. “Look at me.”
I looked at his face which was growing red.
“Don’t you see what’s going on? Why would I take you out to lunch to fire you?”
Our waitress arrived with our food. Mr. Graham didn’t take his eyes off me.
“Brian, you are one of the brightest young men we’ve ever had around here. But it’s time for you to fight! You’ve got to get back into the game. Don’t lay down—that’s not you.”
I wanted to agree with him. No fight had ever frightened me, never intimidated me. But something had changed. Something I couldn’t describe.
So I sat there speechless. Finally I offered a weak nod.
Mr. Graham shook his head.
“Maybe …” he said as he picked up his fork, “maybe I was wrong.”
He took a couple of bites of his lunch. Then he abruptly stood. He pointed at my chest and said, “Start fighting, son. Start fighting.”
~~~~~~
I was sitting on the couch when Jenny came home.
“Hi,” I said, my voice weighted with the burden of my day.
“Hi,” she answered reflexively and then hurried into the kitchen.
Chapter 6
I needed Jenny. I needed her to hear me. More than anything in the world, I wanted to open up. I wanted her to know that what was happening between us was killing me.
But as I sat there on the couch, all I could do was fight the resentment welling up inside of me. How much more obvious did I have to be? Why is she so cold-hearted?
I dropped my face to my hands. Building up all my courage, I got to my feet. I didn’t know what I was going to say, but I knew I had to say something. I walked slowly toward the bedroom, my mind racing for how to begin.
Suddenly, Jenny whisked out of the bedroom door. She was running her fingers through her hair.“I’m gonna catch a show with Mackenzie,” she said as she paused at the mirror by the front door and checked her lipstick.
I stood there frozen in the hallway. Before I could get one word out, the door opened and shut. The faint scent of her perfume hung in the air.
The hallow feeling in my gut felt like it might swallow me whole from the inside. I groaned out loud and slammed my fist into the wall.
~~~~~~
I don’t know how far I walked. It must have been hours. I wasn’t going anywhere. It was aimless wandering. Unaware of people or places. Alone with my thoughts.
I didn’t realize that I was crying. But when I came to myself and I looked up for a street sign, I realized I had tears in my eyes. Quickly, I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and tried to focus on a street sign just ahead of me.
“Are you OK?” a voice to my left asked.
I turned to see a homeless man stepping from the shadows. His brown hair was tinged with gray and hung around his shoulders. A scraggy beard twisted down from his chin. His large, dark eyes peered out from his weathered skin.
I stepped away from him. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said as I looked away.
Chapter 7
“This isn’t the best part of town,” he said, trying to keep his voice kind of low.
I wiped my eyes again. The street sign was of no help. I’d never heard of either of the cross streets. I looked at the homeless man again and for the first time noticed several other pairs of eyes staring at me from the shadows.
“Hey,” I said quickly, “which way is downtown from here?”
The old man stepped closer to me and pointed an old wrinkled finger down the street. “Head this way for five blocks, then take a left at the big church.”
“Thanks,” I said and then started walking briskly down the street.
The street was poorly lit and I found my heart rate climbing with each dark doorway or alleyway that I passed. Once or twice I was certain I heard footsteps behind me. But I glanced around and found myself alone.My fears began to get the best of me.
Maybe it’s just better this way. Jenny would be a free woman again and I wouldn’t have to watch our love just slip away.
I spotted the big church on my left. Across the street from the church was a large park. I could see a couple of dark figures in the park wearing hooded jackets. I quickly crossed to the church-side of the street. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the two dark figures start to come toward me. I glanced up at the church—the lights were on. Without thinking twice, I scampered up the steps, pulled the heavy door open, and went inside.
The church was warm and quiet. I could hear faint voices somewhere inside. My eyes scanned the room. I spotted a gray-haired man up in the front of the chapel. His back was toward me and he was bent down. I hesitated, not sure what I should do. I took one small step inside when the gray-haired man stood up and turned around.
He smiled broadly at me and extended his hand out. “Welcome,” he said in a somewhat hushed tone. “Come this way,” he said as he motioned toward a side door
My face must have shown how confused I felt.
“Are you here for meeting?” he asked.
“No,” I shook my head, “I … um, just needed a place to go.”
He smiled at me again and nodded gently. “Well, son, you are always welcome here,” he said as he walked down the aisle toward me.
He extended his hand and shook mine firmly. “Reverend Spagnoli,” he said.
“Brian,” I answered.
“Nice to meet you, Brian.” His eyes were crystal clear blue and the expression on his face made me feel at once comfortable.
“Um, I know this is going to sound strange, but can you tell me what part of town this is?” I asked.
The reverend’s head turned a little sideways. “You’re lost,” he said. Not asking, not surprised, not concerned. Simply a statement of fact.
“Yeah,” I said almost in a whisper. “I went for a walk and kind of wasn’t paying attention.”
“I see,” the reverend said with a smile. “That happens to a lot of people.”
He turned his back to me and motioned with his hand over toward the window. Pulling the curtain back, he pointed toward a large building. “That right there is the CitiBank building on the corner of 40th and Walton Street. Does that help?”
“Yeah,” I said with a chuckle.
We stepped away from the window. “It’s all about finding a point of reference,” the reverend said gently.
I started to open my mouth to agree. But there was something in his tone, something that told me he wasn’t talking about the CitiBank building.
“Now, Brian, even though it happens to many men, not paying attention is a very dangerous thing,” he said as we paused at the front of the chapel.
I nodded.
“It will most certainly lead you somewhere you don’t want to be.”
I was speechless. Yet strangely I felt I didn’t need to say a word.
“Yeah,” I finally offered. “It’s a rough neighborhood out there.”
“Oh, but you might be wrong,” he retorted with a wink. “Everything is scarier in the dark. When you let the light in,” he paused and looked me in the eye. “When you let the light in, it can be beautiful out there.”
Chapter 8
Several days went by. I thought about Reverend Spagnoli. I thought about Jenny. She seemed colder toward me every day. And though I wanted things to be different so badly, I found my tongue to be just as sharp as ever. She’d make a backhanded comment and I’d snap at the bait.It was a Tuesday. I was out for an early morning run. For some reason that Tuesday, I took a different route.As I rounded the corner of 7th Avenue and Poplar Street, I ran right into a cloud of the most amazing aroma of sweet pastries and pungent coffee brewing.“Oh my goodness,” I said aloud. It had been years since I had been down this street. But right there in front of me was this little German bakery where Jenny and I used to go for breakfast every Saturday morning. I could see the plump woman behind the counter in her white apron with a dusting of flour on her face.In a flash, I remembered Jenny’s face smiling as we shared one of the decadent treats. I turned and headed right for the door. A little bell announced my entrance into the little shop.The plump woman smiled at me and came right to the counter. “Can I help you?” she asked in a thick German accent.
“Yes,” I answered, “I’ll take two of these chocolate pastries.” I pointed through the glass at the flaky, buttery pastry filled with heavenly dark chocolate filling.
She quickly put two in a bag. “Anything else?” she asked.
“No that will do,” I said as I reached for my wallet. Suddenly, my heart sank.
“Oh, no,” I said as the plump woman started ringing up my purchase. “I don’t have my wallet,” I said to her.
She looked up at me with a blend of confusion and irritation on her face.
For one moment, I considered trying to explain how much this gesture might mean to my wife. But I couldn’t even imagine how ridiculous I would sound. “I’m so sorry,” I finally said, “I’ll be back later.”
When I walked into our apartment, Jenny was just walking into the kitchen. She was wearing her favorite gray suit and her hair was pulled up in back.
“Hey,” I said. “You’ll never guess where I happened to run past this morning.”
“What?” she asked as she pulled open a cupboard.
“Remember that little German bakery on Poplar street?”
“On Poplar?” she repeated mindlessly as she poured a cup of juice.
“Yeah, we used to go there for breakfast on Saturdays,” I said.
“Hm,” she responded.
I hesitated for moment and Jenny hurried past me into the living room. “I tried to buy you one of those chocolate pastries you like so much,” I said. “But I forgot I was in my running shorts and didn’t have my wallet.”
“Good,” Jenny said emphatically. “The last thing my thighs need is a chocolate pastry for breakfast.”
And with that, she whisked out the door.
Chapter 9
“I’ve honestly been trying,” I said to Reverend Spagnoli as we walked around the small courtyard behind his church.
He nodded and waited for me to continue.
“But she’s so cold. I don’t know … I don’t know that there’s anything left.”
The reverend crossed his hands behind his back and looked at the ground. “That first night you walked into the church, do you remember?”
“Of course,” I answered.
“I thought you were here for our twelve step meeting. Have you ever been to one?” he asked.
“No.”
“I see these men and women come in here. They are broken. Most of them have destroyed every relationship in their life before they feel so alone and afraid that they desperately reach out for the help they need.”
“I see,” I said trying to follow where he was going.
“We help them along, we help them reach out for help from God. But then we reach step 8. Do you know the steps?” The reverend had now paused and was looking me straight in the eye.
“Step 8?” I responded.
“We ask them to make a list of all the people that they’ve wronged and to make amends wherever possible.”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to do. Trying to make amends,” I answered.
“Amends for what?” Reverend Spagnoli asked pointedly.
“Well … for everything.”
“Ah,” the reverend said as he turned and began to walk again. After a moment, he paused again. “You dug this hole one shovelful at a time. You cannot fill it up with a backhoe.”
“So what are you saying?” I asked.
“Step 8 is a hard step. Making the list is painful—if you’re honest with yourself. But the pain is usually only a small portion of what has been inflicted on others. And without the list, well … then you end up as clumsy as a backhoe.”
~~~~~~
It was several days after my visit with the reverend that I was sitting at my desk at work. A yellow pad sat in front of me. I had scrawled “Step 8″ across the top. The blank page seemed to stare back at me, waiting for me to reach the proper degree of self-honesty. But my memories seemed so far away. The present seemed so overwhelming that I could hardly see beyond it in my mind.
I don’t know how long I sat there. I wanted so badly to make some entry. Some starting point. Something real. But it just wouldn’t come out. I felt so helpless.
Suddenly I realized that my eyes were welling up. I couldn’t believe I was trying to do this at work. I dabbed my eyes with the back of my wrist. I felt oddly uncomfortable, as if someone were watching me. I glanced up and there in the hallway outside my office door was William Graham.
He folded his arms across his chest and his eyes burned a hole into my chest.
“Mr. Graham,” I said feebly as I stood from my desk.
Chapter 10
Step 8 #1. Lies
“Hey there, good lookin’,” Jenny giggled through the phone.
“Hey,” I answered.
“Happy Anniversary!” she added enthusiastically.
“Yeah,” I said without matching her enthusiasm.
“Brian, what’s the matter?”
“We’re gonna have to postpone our plans, babe.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“It’s work. I’ve been assigned to evaluate this hot new high-tech firm. We just got their books today. I’m supposed to fly out with one of the vp’s tomorrow morning. So …”
I could hear Jenny’s disappointment. “So you’re working all night.”
“This is a big deal, Jen. They’re showing they trust me.”
“So is it just you on the project?”
“Well, no. Pamela got assigned too.”
“Is Pamela that leggy blonde down the hall?”
“Don’t go there,” I warned. “This is work. She got assigned to the team. It’s not like I picked her or something.”
“You couldn’t tell them it was your wedding anniversary?”
“Jenny, don’t whine. C’mon, this is good for both of us. This could be a big break for us.”
“Will I get to see you at all?”
“I’ll have to shower and shave before the flight. But I might have to just go to the gym if I don’t have enough time. I’ll come home if I can. But I don’t want to promise you I’ll be there if I don’t know.”
~~~~~~
The memory had come back in a flood. Jenny had gone to such great lengths to plan out the whole night. We were going to re-create our first date. She even remembered exactly what we were both wearing. I had thought it was sweet but a little childish.
The chance to score big at work actually seemed more appealing. At 4:00 a.m., Pamela and I had finished up our work. Pamela suggested we grab some coffee.
Jenny had called the office to check on my plans while we were gone. I don’t know why I felt so guilty. It was only coffee. And we’d been up all night. We certainly needed the caffeine. But when I saw Jenny’s name on my cell phone, I panicked. “No, I’m not with her. I’m headed to the gym. … The flight’s really early. I’m so sorry.”
~~~~~~
“Are you even listening to me?” Mr. Graham grumbled.
“Yeah, yeah,” I lied again.
“I warned you, Brian. I fought for you. I told you to start fighting.” Mr. Graham’s voice grew louder with each statement.
“I know. I really appreciate all you’ve done,” I said.
“Brian, clean out your desk. It’s over. You’re done here.”
Chapter 11
I pulled my car into the parking garage under our building. I turned off the engine and just sat there for a few moments. Everything I’d been working for … it was gone. I’d sacrificed so much for that job. My dream had been to become a partner. Impossible decisions when I had to choose between Jenny and the job—I gave myself to the job. But I believed I was looking at what was best for both of us in the long run. I never loved the job more than Jenny. I wanted to make her happy. That’s what I thought I was working for.
But now sitting alone in my car, I felt like such a fool. Mr. Graham had warned me. He had given me every chance to step up.
I was empty. I was losing Jenny. I had ruined my own career.
Finally, I got out of my car and went to the elevator. I felt like I hardly had strength to stand. Mindlessly, I watched the numbers click up to 10. The doors opened and I walked down the hall to our apartment. I put the key in the lock but discovered it was already open.
Jenny was standing in the hall. She had the phone in her hand and she turned and looked me straight in the eye. There was something different. Something in her eyes. A softness … that I had not seen for so very long. I wanted to run into her arms. I needed her right now.
“Brian,” she said her voice soft and full of emotion. “It’s your mom.” She extended the phone to me.
“My mom?” I said as I took the phone from her hand.
I put the receiver to my ear. “Mom?”
“Brian, honey, Daddy has had a stroke,” Mom said as her voice quivered.
“A stroke?”
I felt the blood drain out of my head. I stumbled to the couch and sat down. “Is he OK?” I asked hesitantly.
“We don’t know yet. They’re working on him right now.”
I’d never heard my mom sound so afraid.
“Mom, it’ll be alright,” I said doing my best to sound reassuring. “I will leave right away. Have you called Melissa?”
My sister Melissa was living in Phoenix with her husband and 7 kids. I knew they’d been having serious financial struggles. This would be devastating for her—to come would be far too expensive, to not come would be emotional torture.
“Yes, I called her,” Mom said. “I don’t know what she’s going to do.”
Mom paused. I knew what she wanted me to say. But what could I say? This was not the time to explain that I was unemployed.
“I’ll call her. We’ll figure something out, Mom. … She needs to be there.”
“Thank you, Brian. And hurry.” Mom started to sob.
I stayed on the line with her for several more minutes until she was able to compose herself. I explained that it would actually be faster for me to drive than to fly. Mom and Dad were in Evansville, Indiana. The drive down from Chicago was about 6 or 7 hours. Once in college, I’d made it in 5 hours and 20 minutes. I had a feeling this trip would be even faster.
When I hung up the phone, I put my head between my hands and sat there for a minute. I didn’t even realize that Jenny was still in the room. She sat down beside me and placed a tentative hand on my shoulder. Neither of us said a word.
I felt my emotions welling up and then they started to overflow. I cried and Jenny sat with me. She reached up and stroked the back of my head. I leaned toward her and she slipped her arm around my shoulder and just held me.
Finally, I stood up and wiped my eyes. “I’ve got to get on the road. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”
“Of course. I understand,” Jenny said as she stood. “I’ll help you get packed.”
It seemed like five minutes later I was on the road. Jenny said she’d try to get a flight and come down on the weekend. I thanked her over and over.
The sun had already set in the west. The lights of the city were soon in my rear view mirror.
Chapter 12
It was well after midnight when I pulled into a rest stop. I had been thinking a lot about my dad. Especially about being a young boy. And in the middle of my memories of home came another memory. I pulled out my notepad.
#2. Listening but not hearing
“Hey, good news,” I said into my phone as I walked out of the office. “The Altius deal fell through which means we won’t have to hold all those meetings this weekend.”
“Is that OK? That the deal fell through?” Jenny asked.
“It was a mess. I’d been trying to show the partners that the whole company was way overvalued. But you know how it is when one partner gets too excited about a deal—there’s no talking them out of it.”
“Well, that just goes to show that you are the best analyst in the house,” Jenny quipped.
I remember thinking how great it was that Jenny understood enough about my job that she could appreciate what I do.
But while I was reveling in her pat on the back, she added, “Oh, Brian, that means you can come with me to Stacy and Ben’s for the weekend!”
Stacy is Jenny’s sister. She had two small boys at the time. Jenny utterly adores her nephews. But they always made me so uncomfortable. Snotty noses, loud, whining, screaming, crying. The thought of spending the weekend with them made my skin crawl.
“Um, yeah,” I said. “That’ll be fun.”
~~~~~~
Sunday afternoon, Jenny insisted that Stacy and Ben take off for a while. “You guys need some time alone. The boys will be fine.”
I plopped down in front of the TV and tried to find the Bears game.
Jenny sat on the floor in the other room playing a board game with the terrible two. I worried that she might call me to come join them. But thankfully, she seemed content without me.
During halftime of the football game, I went to the kitchen for a snack. I glanced in to see Jenny on the couch reading a picture book to both boys.
It was not too much later that Jenny came into the family room to join me. The younger boy was in her arms sound asleep. Carefully, she sat down on the couch next to me.
“Look at him, Brian,” she whispered. “Isn’t he angelic?”
I glanced down at him and was simply grateful for his silence. “Yeah, he’s great,” I said.
Jenny’s elbow gently prodded my ribs. “I can’t believe how terrified you are of kids,” she chided, seeing right through me.
“I’m not terrified of kids,” I said. “They’re just so … messy.”
Jenny laughed at me. “Oh, yeah,” she said sarcastically, “Mr. Neat Freak.”
“What do you mean? I am a neat freak,” I insisted.
Again, Jenny laughed at me. “Well, some messes are worth it,” she said as she leaned down and kissed her nephew’s forehead.
Chapter 13
I tapped my pen on the notepad. Jenny had been precisely right. That weekend at Ben and Stacy’s had terrified me. Jenny never came right out with it. But I felt an uneasiness that shot up my spine and felt like an icy grip on the back of my neck.
The grip tightened on the ride home.
“Can we stop talking about your nephews?” I snapped.
“What’s wrong with you?” Jenny shot back.
“Ahhg, it’s just that they wear me out and now the whole way home it’s like it’s all you want to talk about.”
“They wear you out! How? You didn’t spend more than five minutes with them the whole weekend.” Jenny’s voice quivered. I could see her eyes welling up.
“Hey, this weekend was your deal, remember? I wasn’t even supposed to come,” I responded smugly.
Jenny turned her face away from me. I could see her shoulders begin to shake.
“Jenny,” I said trying my best to be sympathetic, “I just wanted to talk about something else. That’s all.”
“You don’t get it,” Jenny said after a long pause.
“Don’t get what?”
Chapter 14
The closer I got to the hospital the bigger the pit in my stomach grew. Something about the smell of antiseptic and the way people seemed to feel the need to whisper all the time made me physically uncomfortable. And thinking about seeing my dad laying there with tubes down his throat … it seemed more than I could take right now.But I knew mom would need me. She had a way of overreacting that had always given us a good laugh. Though nothing was funny now. And I knew mom would be a bundle of the most horrendous “what if’s.”Melissa had called on my cell phone somewhere south of Terre Haute. I was so grateful to hear her voice because I was getting very drowsy. We talked about flights and I gave her my credit card number. I worried that I would regret it later when the bill came. But for the moment, it seemed like the right thing to do. Though I did allow myself one self-indulgent thought about my slacker brother-in-law.Before I knew it, I was pulling into the parking lot of St. Mary’s Medical Center. I took a deep breath and climbed out of the car. My back was so stiff from the long drive that I took a moment to stretch it in the cool night air before heading into the hospital.
The lobby was virtually empty. A friendly looking lady sat behind the reception counter. I asked her for my father’s room number. She tapped quietly on her computer keyboard for a moment or two, then told me how to get to the intensive care unit. “You’ll have to ask the nurse at the desk in ICU for his specific room.”
I thanked her and headed for the elevators.
When I reached the ICU floor, the elevator doors slid open. I could see my mom directly down the hall at the nurse’s station. She turned and our eyes immediately met. I hurried down the hall toward her. She almost collapsed into my arms. I held her for a long time.
“Mom,” I finally said, “how is he doing?”
“We don’t know yet,” she sobbed.
“Have they told you anything?” I asked.
“They say they’re ‘hopeful’—but I don’t know what that means.”
I held mom for a few more minutes and then she walked me to his room. Mom was holding my arm and I could feel her grip tighten as we pushed the door open.
I looked at my dad. His eyes were closed and a tube was taped to the corner of his mouth. I swallowed and felt the tightness of my own throat. I stepped to his bedside. Dad’s hand was laying motionless on top of the blankets. I took his hand in mine. It was surprisingly warm. For a reason I could not explain, the warmth of his hand gave me a sudden reassurance.
I turned to Mom. “He’s gonna be OK. He’s a tough old bird, Mom. He’ll be alright.”
She gave me a half smile and stepped closer to the bed.
As I turned back to look at Dad, his hand gently squeezed mine.
Chapter 15
Three days later, Dad was doing much better. He spoke a little slower than usual but his wit was plenty quick. We knew he was going to be alright when the nurse asked him where she should put his lunch and he whispered in his dry, cracking voice, “How ’bout in the … toilet … where it belongs.”I didn’t say much during dad’s stay in the hospital. I found myself watching my mom. She was never too far from his bedside. And there was this look in her eye—especially when dad was asleep. She really loved him, which I guess shouldn’t have shocked me since they’d been married for more than 40 years.But I’d grown up in their home. I’d been there when voices had been heated. It was usually about money or mom’s brother, Darrell. One of them would storm off. A door or two would slam. Melissa and I would almost always find some excuse to leave the house. And we knew that in the morning, we’d see mom send dad off to work with a kiss and everything would seem to be back to normal—well at least until Uncle Darrell came around again.
As a teenager, I think I convinced myself that they just kind of tolerated each other. But now sitting in dad’s hospital room, I could see how wrong I was.
~~~~~~
“So are you going to be able to make it?” I asked Jenny over the phone.
” I, um … I thought he was doing better,” she said.
“Well, yeah.”
“He’s not dying, right?” Jenny continued.
“No, he’s gonna pull through. But I, umm …”
“I just don’t think I should spend the money for the flight if he’s doing fine.”
I paused for a few seconds. There was so much I wanted to say. But the right words seemed to scatter from my mind like a flock of startled pigeons.
“Jenny?” I finally said.
“Yeah.”
“I need to tell you something,” I began.
“Brian, let’s not do this over the—”
“Jenny,” I interrupted. “I know you probably can’t believe this right now. But … I still love you.”
I waited for her to say something—anything. But the phone was silent.
“Brian, what are you doing?” Jenny finally asked softly.
“I’m not doing … I want you to know … I don’t know. Just don’t give up on … me.” I cringed at my own clumsiness.
Jenny paused again. “Give up?”
“Can we talk when I get home?” I asked tentatively.
“Sure,” Jenny answered in a whisper.
Chapter 16
True to her word, Jenny was sitting in the living room when I arrived home. I guess I should have anticipated the skeptical look on her face. But I had been hoping to see a smile.Jenny leaned back into the couch and crossed her arms.I pulled out the bouquet of flowers I’d been hiding behind my back. Four carnations. Jenny’s face changed. But I didn’t get the smile I had imagined. I could not tell what she was feeling or thinking.
“Brian,” she said softly. “What are you doing?”
The whole drive back, I’d been practicing what I’d say. I knew this might be my last chance. I was so excited to deliver my first apology. But suddenly, my heart was pounding and my throat started to close off.
“Jenny.” I was embarrassed to hear my voice squeak like I was hitting puberty again. But I pressed forward. “I know I have not been there for you. I know that it seems our dreams have taken us in different directions. And I know that I’ve been the one to blame.”
I saw Jenny’s lips press together. I knew that she wanted to lash out, to take the bait and hogtie me with my own heartstrings. But she didn’t. She waited.
I took a deep breath. “There was a night, you had made big plans for us. You were so excited. But I let my work get in the way. I promised you that I’d make it up to you.” I paused, “And I realized that I never have.”
“I’m afraid that it’s too late. It’s just not ….” Jenny’s voice trailed off and she shook her head.
I had let my hope build up inside me for the whole six hour drive home. Now, I felt like I was trying to hold water in my hands. I stammered.
“It’s only too late if … we decide not to even try.”
“I tried, Brian. I tried for years.” Jenny’s eyes were turning red.
“I know you did. That’s what I’ve been realizing. That’s why I want to make it right.”
“What can you do? What can make it right?” Jenny’s voice started to rise.
“I know the time in the past is the past. I can’t bring it back. I can’t make that right.”
I could see on her face that she wanted to say it, she wanted to open her mouth and smack me right between the eyes with “Exactly!” But she didn’t. Again she waited.
“But once you had a dream of the future and I was part