Lighting Candles in the Snow

by Karen Jones Gowen

  The waitress stopped by to clear the table. She refilled our cups, asked if we wanted anything else. We both shook our heads; and as for me, I was rendered speechless by the fact of Jeremy’s confession. She seemed to sense this was some kind of meaningful discussion, because she quietly placed the check on the table and we didn’t see her again.

  “And there was the . . . the sex. The pornography.”

  Jeremy paused and glanced around. Our server was busy with her lunch crowd. He lowered his voice, although he had spoken in little more than a whisper. I had to strain to hear each word.

  “It was the night of our anniversary when I hit bottom. At the time I brushed it off but later, after the divorce, I knew. I despised myself for that night.”

  I reached over and touched his hand. He continued, “I hated myself for all of it. I had to get past the guilt and the lies and the denial before I could get to the healing.”

  “Where are you now?” I was almost afraid to ask. “Where are you in the healing process?”

  Getting back together for a weekend was one thing, but being together full-time might bring back the lies, the emotional distance, the danger zones. I couldn’t take that again. I could only stay with Jeremy if he was truly getting better.

  “I’m off alcohol. I’m off porn. I am sitting in this restaurant telling you things I never believed I’d admit. To you, or to anyone. That I never would have admitted before.”

  He pulled out his wallet and removed a credit card, setting it on the bill.

  “I’m better, Karoline. I am healing. If I weren’t, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have come back.”

  I nodded. “Okay, I see. That makes sense, I guess.” But I was still confused. “Jeremy, tell me this one thing. If you are recovering, you love me, but if you aren’t, you don’t?”

  He took a deep breath and said, “Let me try to explain. It’s not about love. An addict puts the addiction above everything else. Before spouse, kids, work. The addiction comes first, regardless of who gets cast aside in the process. Regardless of what anyone tells you—anyone being the addict and the addict being me—the craving is always first in his life. Period. Recovery is when things get turned around to their proper order.

  “And I shouldn’t be talking in third person. It’s me who is the addict, not some random guy. Getting healthy means the former obsession is no longer #1 in the addict’s—in my—thoughts and behavior.”

  “So now, being in recovery, you love me when before you loved the addiction more?”

  It was easier to say “the addiction” rather than call it by the actual names: alcohol, casual sex, porn. Ugly, ugly words.

  “It’s not easy to admit to, but yeah.”

  He pulled on his coat. A cloud had moved to hide the mid-day sun and our cheerful spot by the window was now cast in a cool shadow. It no longer felt warm and homey.

  Jeremy said, “That’s pretty much it. You ready to go?”

  We got up, Jeremy paid the bill and we left the restaurant. I was shivering. Jeremy put his arm around me and pulled me close.

  “Are you cold?” he asked.

  “A little.”

  He opened the car door for me and I slid in.

  When he got behind the wheel he started the engine and turned up the heat. “Let’s get some heat in here and warm you up.”

  “It was toasty in Dee’s, and I think I got a chill when we went outside.” I turned to Jeremy. “Thank you for opening up to me like that, Jeremy, for being honest. It helps me to understand. I’ve been really confused, blaming myself for not being a better wife. I was bitter about you, about our marriage. I didn’t realize where you were coming from either, or what you were dealing with.”

  Jeremy seemed more light-hearted in the car than he’d been inside the restaurant when he was reflecting on the past.

  He said, “Maybe you can go with me to a few meetings to see what kinds of things I’m learning. I’d like you to meet my therapist, Dr. Lance. He knows about you, about us. He pretty much knows everything by now.”

  “I’d like that. I want to support you anyway I can. We’re in this together.”

  He grinned at me. “You better believe we are. Fifty years, babe. Fifty years clean and sober and married to you. That’s what I’m after.”

  He held up his palm, facing me. “You in?”

  I high-fived him. “I’m in.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  We pulled up to Suzie and Rob’s big house in the south end of the Salt Lake Valley, nestled in a new housing development in the foothills. Jeremy stopped the car and laid his head against the steering wheel, like he wanted a nap.

  “Well, I guess we might as well get this over with,” he said.

  “I promise we won’t stay long. I only want Suzie to see us together and know that it’s good. And right.” I squeezed his hand. “Come on. It’ll be fine.”

  Suzie opened the door instead of one of the kids, giving us no time to ease into it. She stared, speechless, quite unlike her.

  “Hi, Suz,” I said simply. “Are you busy?”

  Since Jeremy and I were holding hands there could be no mistaking our current status. His hand felt sweaty.

  “Uh, hi, Karoline. Jeremy. Well, I really don’t know what to say. What a surprise, seeing the two of you together like this.” She stepped back and gave a weak gesture of invitation. “Come in. I guess.”

  We entered the foyer, and Suzie held up an index finger. “Just a second. . . . ROB!” she hollered toward the back of the house. “Can you come here, please?”

  I had never before heard her raise her voice like that.

  Rob showed up and smiled in greeting. He didn’t act nearly as surprised as Suzie. Rob was the kind of guy who took things in stride, doing well with the drama of a household of girls.

  “Hey, you two,” he said. “This is a surprise. Jeremy, nice to see you again.”

  He shook Jeremy’s hand in a firm grip, holding it with both of his to show friendliness and warmth.

  I’ve learned a thing or two about LDS culture while living in Salt Lake, especially concerning the Mormon handshake. The Mormons have taken hand-shaking to a high art. They know exactly how to shake hands to mean a variety of things. There’s the warm, half-hug handshake like Rob gave to Jeremy.

  There’s the female hold out the hand and barely grip, to show that you really don’t want to touch the person but well, if I must. . . . There’s the laughing while pumping up and down handshake of two good friends who haven’t seen each other for some time—at least among the males, while the women friends will hug in the same situation.

  There’s the sincere handshake of two people firmly grasping hands while looking into eyes. I’m not sure what that one means, but I’ve seen it among men who don’t even know each other but seem to be instant friends.

  After Suzie got over the initial shock of seeing the two of us together at her front door, it turned into a pleasantly relaxed visit. Rob and Suz sat with us in the living room while the kids wandered in and out. Jeremy was suitably laid back and humble, Suzie polite and tolerant, both of them on their best behavior. I didn’t know how long it would last once we got on with our real lives, but it impressed me as a desirably amicable beginning.

  Suzie asked us how we got back together. “I am absolutely stunned to see the two of you together. How in heaven’s name did this happen?” is actually how she put it.

  I didn’t get too far into the story when she interrupted me. “Karoline, are you telling me that you kept two of his shirts in your closet this whole time?”

  “I guess I did,” I confessed with a weak laugh.

  She gaped at me, hardly able to believe this information. “Whatever for?”

  “I always liked those particular shirts, and I never managed to get rid of them.”

  “I see. And Jeremy, you came back to Karoline’s apartment, just to get the shirts?”

  He nodded. “Yes. I had missed them, so why not? My key still worked
. She hadn’t changed the lock.”

  Suzie gave Rob a meaningful look, eyebrows raised, corners of her mouth down. He returned it with a hearty laugh.

  “It appears the two of you couldn’t stay away from each other,” Rob said.

  Jeremy and I exchanged a glance. “I guess not,” Jeremy said, while holding my gaze. “I’m still in shock that Karoline wants me back.”

  Suzie said, “So, Karoline, this means you’re no longer considering the California job, I guess?”

  With effort, I pulled my eyes away from Jeremy.

  “We talked about it. Jeremy can work anywhere, and California might be a nice change of scene for us.”

  Jeremy added, “Sure, it sounds good, but my mom is here. I couldn’t leave her. I’m all she’s got.”

  It surprised me to hear him say that. I had somehow gotten the idea he wasn’t that close to his mom, that they didn’t see much of each other. The few times we’d gone to visit, he had seemed eager to get away.

  I had never really gotten to know her. That day I dropped by was the most she and I had ever talked one on one. If Jeremy and my relationship stood any chance of success, we had to get past our family issues.

  My sister had to accept that I wasn’t going to be her clone and follow in her footsteps. Sure, I had followed her to Salt Lake, but afterward I made my own way. I wasn’t her daughter but her sister, and I would make my own decisions about things regardless of whether she agreed with them. And I had to get past my fear of what Suzie might think about everything I did.

  I would choose my own religion, select my own brand of man, who was very much unlike Rob. I had chosen Jeremy with his many flaws, and I needed Suzie to accept that whether she liked it or not. It had taken me awhile to accept it myself; but now that I had, I hoped my sister wouldn’t be far behind.

  But about this California job. Not likely it would happen. Jeremy and I would stay here in Salt Lake, near our families.

  And then I got a brainstorm. I knew exactly what to do about my work situation. I had always known what career I really wanted, and there staring me in the face, was how I’d get it.

  Once Jeremy and I settled things, I would look up that small press he had first published with in Salt Lake, and I’d send them my resume. I’d follow up with a phone call, I’d email, I’d find out who ran the place and I’d get a job as an editor, even it meant starting out as an unpaid intern.

  I was excited to share my idea later with Jeremy. To Suzie I said, “I appreciate the opportunity, Suz, and I was serious about it. I was planning to call the office and make an appointment for an interview. And then I would wind everything up and go.”

  Jeremy stared at me with interest. Maybe he hadn’t realized how close we had come to never seeing each other again. Timing. If he had waited a few more weeks to get the shirt, I might have been gone. Or if I hadn’t arrived home right when I did, I’d have missed him.

  “You can still go, you know,” Suzie said. “In case, uh, in case, you know, things don’t work out here.”

  “I’m staying with Jeremy. If he needs to be in Salt Lake for his mom, I’ll be here with him.”

  I paused and added, hoping it wasn’t revealing a confidence, “Jeremy’s in counseling. He’s seeing a therapist who’s helping him a lot. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t want to leave that situation either, would you, hon?”

  Jeremy shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t. Once I found this guy things finally clicked for me, and I was able to get the help I needed.”

  He directed his comments to Rob, not seeming to be bothered that I had mentioned it. I really needed to stop trying to defend Jeremy and his choices to my sister.

  “Counseling? That’s great, Jeremy,” Rob said. “Good call. A therapist who can truly help is of high value. They aren’t easy to find. I’m glad you were successful on that count.”

  Realization finally seemed to dawn on Suzie. “I guess this is it, then,” she said. “You and Jeremy are back together?”

  “Pretty much,” I grinned.

  Jeremy added, “If she’s willing to put up with me.”

  Rob said, “Good for you! I want the two of you to know that you have our full support. You know, it might sound corny, but I truly believe that love comes to those who are willing to wait for it. I was in my late twenties, not married, stuggling to figure out what was wrong with me. Why I couldn’t find the right girl. I even had a couple broken engagements to my name. Then Suzie moves into my apartment complex. I get one eyeful of this girl and I know why the others never worked out.”

  Rob and Suzie exchanged one of their lovey-dovey looks I knew so well. I smiled, not feeling one bit jealous that they had something I didn’t.

  Because this time I know. I have it, too. In fact I had it all along, I think, as Jeremy and I exchanged a love-dovey look of our own. It was there all the time right under our noses; we just had to work a few things out first.

  “Suzie and I are behind you 100%,” Rob declared. “Aren’t we, sweetie?”

  After a very brief pause, she nodded primly and smiled. “Of course.”

  And I do believe she meant it. I can always tell when Suzie is just being nice and when she’s sincere, and this time I saw more sincerity than niceness.

  When we left their house, I said, “Let’s get back on the freeway and head north.”

  “Where to?”

  “To your mom’s house.”

  “Are you serious? Why?”

  “Because she is your family, the only one you have, and today we’re facing family issues.”

  “Whoa, there, little lady. You do not want to deal with those issues. I tried my best to protect you from that mess when we were married. You’re too good a person to get into it.”

  “We faced mine, and now it’s your turn.”

  “What kind of family problems do you have, Karoline? A bossy sister, that’s it.”

  I laughed because it was true. Suzie defined the word bossy.

  “I guess that’s why she’s such a successful mom and can handle so many kids,” I said.

  “She and Rob seemed fine with us together, once they got past the surprise of it. Don’t you think?” Jeremy asked.

  He looked so cute and eager, like it really mattered to him what Suzie and Rob thought of him. I liked the new Jeremy.

  “I think they were. Suz will get used to the idea. And now we get to confront your family issues. Let’s go see your mom.”

  He let out a bitter half-laugh. “How much time do you have? We are talking some serious shit. A little half-hour visit in my mom’s living room won’t fix anything, I promise you.”

  “I know, Jeremy, but it’s a start. In all our years as a couple, we hardly spent any time with her. I always wondered why. Why you didn’t want to see her.”

  “I visited her several times a week back when we were together, just like I do now.”

  I was puzzled. “What? What are you saying?”

  Why would he have kept this from me?

  “I love my mom, don’t get me wrong. She and I have been through a lot together. Only she likes to talk about it, and I don’t. I didn’t want her telling you our business, and that’s why I’d go see her without you. I didn’t say anything, because I know how obsessed you are about family togetherness, and you would’ve insisting on coming with me.”

  “See, Jeremy, this is the crux of the problem. For whatever reason, you tend to keep me in the dark about unpleasant things. Whether it’s to protect me, or because you think I won’t be able to relate, or you think I would love you less, I don’t know. I’m not a psychologist. I’m an English major, currently unemployed.”

  “Maybe you should go back to school and become a psychologist,” Jeremy said. “It’ll take a professional to understand what lies beneath the surface of my psyche. I wish I’d found Dr. Lance years ago. Our marriage might have stood a chance.”

  I opened my mouth to tell Jeremy about my editing plan but stopped. This wasn’t the time to talk ab
out our jobs. We were good at that. We knew how to succeed in the workplace and build careers for ourselves. Instead, it was time to focus on our relationship and figure out how to be successful in that arena.

  I said, “Things will be different now, Jeremy. I have a good feeling about us. You’ve got your therapist, the addiction recovery groups, your writing. And you have me.”

  “I know the writing helps. But there are days when I wonder about my sanity; and Karoline, to tell you the truth, I worry about my addictions, my addictive personality. I don’t want to hurt you again. You don’t deserve that. You don’t deserve me.”

  “No, Jeremy, quit saying that. As long as you believe you’re not good enough for me, we’ll be in trouble. I want you to let me into your life, body and soul, not have you protecting me in this bubble because you think I’m too pure or naive to deal with your nightmares. I want all of you, Jeremy, not just the image you plaster on when you’re feeling okay about yourself. I want the blackest, deepest, darkest hole where you go when you’re feeling completely scared and weak and worthless. I want to be with you then, too.”

  By now we had parked in front of his mom’s house. Snow was falling and beginning to cover the windshield. The car was running, the heater on, but Jeremy didn’t turn on the windshield wipers to move the snow.

  “We should go in,” I said. “Are you ready?”

  He stared at the snow piling up fast against the windshield. I wondered if it reminded him of that day, of him and his brother in the snowdrift. No wonder Mrs. London hated snow.

  I touched his arm. “Jeremy. You do not need to protect me. Or to hide the truth from me. Your mom told me, she shared your story. I came by here the other day.”

  He turned to me in surprise. “What? Why?”

  “I was in the neighborhood for a job interview, and I got the idea to stop by. It was after you and I . . .after that night when I surprised you in my apartment. Then you didn’t call, and I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I was obsessed with the thought of you, the feel of you, but I wouldn’t admit that to myself, and I couldn’t bring myself to call. I thought maybe I’d talk to your mom and get a clue of what was going on with you.”