by Danielle Lee
On the outside she was the happiest woman in the world, she was my rock. She was the love of my life. We were married for thirteen years when she did it. She took pills, and lots of them. She’d just found out that she was unable to have my children, our children, and she apparently couldn’t think of any other way to go on. She never thought about what I felt on the subject. She didn’t think about adoption, foster care, surrogacy, she didn’t think of anything! She was selfish, something that I never would have thought of my Sarah, the love of my life.
What she did that day ruined my life, and took out all hope for a future for myself, until I found a voice, an angel to help me through all of the pain. It has been five years since she decided to do this. She still sits in the hospital, catatonic to the public, in a coma. I still visit her every day around noon. I read to her, talk to her, tell her my dreams, my aspirations. I still think she’s going to sit up and come out of it. I no longer want the looks of pity, the kind words about my wife; I want to be free. I want to feel like I can move on without feeling so damn guilty about living my life. I want to live. What do you think I should do? I love my wife, but I hate what she did to me, to us. I want to move on, but I’m afraid of what her parents will think. I’m afraid of what the person that I care about most will think if I did this.
What would you do if you had someone that cared for you, but was in this situation? Could you see past the pain, the hurt of this man’s life, or could you not get over the disgust of being with someone whose wife was in the other room, biding time until she went to the angels?
Confused in Connecticut
Dear Confused,
I can’t imagine the way you feel, the way your life has been ripped from you. People can be crude sometimes—they think awful things. But in your situation, being human is the only way that you’re going to survive through the hurt, and the pain.
Don’t look at it as pity, as judging; look at it as love. This is not your fault. She did this to you. You know what you would’ve done if she had told you the news.
When people are about to do something like suicide, they aren’t in their right mind and cannot see reason through madness. She wanted your child so badly that she couldn’t see past the horror of not being able to. Please don’t forget the wonderful times that you had together. Don’t have hatred toward her; after all, we are only human. Think about the good times you had together and let those times get you through the next eighteen years of your life. Think about living. Your life is the only thing you have that is so precious to you, and you need to take care of it. Embrace it. As far as loving and learning to love again, you have it in you. Don’t close yourself off so this new woman that you love in your life can’t see it. Sarah wouldn’t want that. She wouldn’t want you to suffer the rest of your life like the way she suffered minutes before she ended hers. Move on, take it slowly, and enjoy the ride. She must be a very special person for someone like you to have fallen in love with her. Please keep in touch with me. I would like to see how your story ends, or in this case begins.
Katherine E. Daniels, Freelance
She looked up from the paper at her father smiling from ear to ear. “Great advice, Katherine. Warren will be relieved and feel much better.”
“Did you know he sent this letter to me? How long have you been plotting? And,” she huffed, “why did you make up a story like a surgery to get me to come here?” Her hands went to her hips as she glared at him, the newspaper was now clenched tightly in her fist.
“Kat, don’t yell at me, I’m still your father. Besides, he’s the right man for you. I was only looking out for your best interests.”
“I am thirty-eight years old! When do I get to look out for my own interests? You didn’t have to lie to me about a surgery! You could have just asked me to come down.”
“Kitten, I know I should’ve been honest with you, but in the past few years you haven’t been exactly forthcoming with your mother and me. You never talk about your relationships with us, your place in New York is the size of the hall closet, and you barely even call us anymore."
She was fuming now. “I don’t have to call you because you call every five minutes!”
Bill inhaled, then spoke. “Think about it: you wouldn’t have come, would you?”
She thought about it and decided that she probably wouldn’t have. She liked where she was in her life, didn’t she? She liked her career. Well, had liked was definitely the correct term. She’d made something of herself in New York. Here in Connecticut, she was still that shy little girl with braces; that awkward teenager that never had a date, or the one with the freakish gang of brothers and gorgeous to-die-for sister. In New York, she was a woman. She may not have dated much—or at all, until a week ago—but she was just fine. Keep telling yourself that, she thought. “I…You’re probably right. But I’m still mad at you!” A smile started to bubble from the surface as she went over to her father. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that I’ve been that bad of a daughter. Warren was right.”
Her father cocked his head back a little. “Warren was right?”
“The other day, just before this whole mess happened, he told me more or less that I was selfish and I didn’t seem to care about you or Mom. I, of course, care about you, but have been selfish. I haven’t been the best person to be around lately if ever.”
“He said that to you?” Her father looked like he was starting to get angry.
“Yes, but he immediately apologized for that. Then he started in on Kelsey and that whole mess—and by the way, I’m still mad about that, so drop it.”
Her father smirked. “Well, I still think that guy deserves a good swift kick, but I can’t believe Warren would say something like that. He’s such a nice young man. I think you’ve really gotten to him.”
“You say that, but I’ve only known him for not even a week. And three days of that I haven’t even seen him. I’m sorry, but this kind of behavior isn’t really a turn-on, not to mention him not telling me about his wife.”
“He feels like he feels. He probably knows you more than you think he does, and he certainly is a better catch than Kelsey,” Bill scoffed. “And, the mention of his wife—she hasn’t been in the picture for five years now. I don’t think you can really count that as a marriage. Besides, he and I get along, and you know how hard that is for me to like someone that you date.”
“We’re not dating! You’re so delusional! Besides, I’m not into arranged marriages. What are you doing? He’s going through something that neither of us can even fathom, and here you are acting like it’s just a little bump in the road. I’m not going to be the one to pick up all the pieces when he finally falls apart! I’m going back to New York next week!”
Ignoring her last remark, he kept on. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. Do you really think it’s a good idea? They obviously don’t have any respect for you at that…magazine! Connecticut has so much more to offer you. Why, the Herald is hiring.”
“Oh, here we go.”
“Don’t you ‘here we go’ me. You…Oh, forget it! When you’re ready to start acting like an adult…” He stormed off, mumbling things along the way, acting like he was put off by their conversation, then slammed the screen door to the porch.
Shaking her head, she started to talk to herself. “The Herald? You have got to be kidding me! Ha!” She looked at the paper that was clenched tightly in her fist and unfolded it. “What does he know?” The New York Times was what she wanted—at least that’s what she kept telling herself.
***
The black SUV pulled in a little after midnight. She was sitting down by herself in front of the pond, having a glass of wine and soaking her feet in the water. The water looked like broken glass as she swayed her feet back and forth. She could never go to bed at a decent hour. It didn’t matter how tired she was right then; her mind was running races around New York, what her father had said, and about Warren’s wife, Sarah.
She heard voices in t
he distance and wondered why her parents were up at this hour. Probably arguing over her father’s bad habit of the midnight snack or what on earth she was doing drinking down at the pond. Then she heard a sound behind her. When she turned to look, Warren sat down, cross-legged on the dock beside her.
“I’m so glad you’re up.” He smiled tight-lipped.
“Warren.”
“Please, don’t. You needn’t say anything. I feel awful about everything, except for this.” He pulled the New York Times column from his pocket. He’d folded it several times and slipped it into his wallet.
“Oh, you saw it? Well, I want you to know I would’ve tried to get it pulled; I just figured out that it was you. I wish you would’ve told me.” She took a drink of her wine and placed the glass back down, swaying her feet in circles in the water.
“Katherine, I know I should’ve told you. I didn’t know how to come out with it. I thought about it several times the night that you were here. When I met you at the airport you looked so beautiful, and honestly I didn’t want to ruin anything. I want to be honest with you, about everything. HIPAA laws or not, your father doesn’t have a surgery scheduled. I don’t know why the hell he would tell you that. Crazy old man!” He smirked when he said it, then looked up at Katherine. “I really like your father.”
“I know.” She smiled reassuringly. “He likes you too.”
“Anyway, I never planned on any of this happening. I want you to know that. I’ve been talking to your father for months about you. He’s shown me pictures before, of course, and I thought, ‘damn, she’s beautiful.’ I never gave it a second thought; I was married.
Then he showed me your column. He started talking about you nearly every day. We’d go fishing and he would bring you up. Instantly, I was curious. I started reading your column, loved your words. I thought, ‘here is a woman that knows how to write, communicate with her readers.’ And nearly every time I read your column, I agreed with your advice. Sometimes I stood after reading it, cheering you on, saying, ‘damn, right on the money!’ Then I was hooked. I bought the subscription, turned to the table of contents. and found where your column was and read yours first. The rest of the magazine is shit, though.” He smiled.
Katherine returned the smile and laughed.
“I loved your words. Your face—your beautiful face—was just a bonus. Then your father started telling me things like what you like to do and the places that you go to. He showed me a picture of your place in New York, things like that. I felt like I’d known you for years. I stopped going to the hospital as much, then just looked forward to reading your column. I talked to your father, and he told me that you usually come home for Christmas. I’d been planning my vacation around meeting you.
“Then this past month I had a few rough times, thinking of Sarah, feeling guilty about my feelings for you—someone I’d never even met. I talked to your father about it. He told me that I should take a vacation, try to sort things out. He suggested I write to your column, see what you think. I can’t believe the New York Times printed this.” He held up the article in his hand and shook his head.
“Then your father told me a week ago that your sister was going to pick you up at the airport. I was so excited that I offered to drive. When I saw you, I knew that I had to get to know you better. I’m sorry if I scared you, if you’re disgusted by me. I don’t know, I can’t explain it. Then my Sarah died.”
She looked at his face when he mentioned her name. “I’m so sorry, Warren. My mother told me what happened. And so did you, of course. In a way, you did tell me,” she said shyly.
Warren gave her a closed-mouth smile. “I guess I did.” He looked at her and grabbed her hand. She didn’t move; she just listened to him. “It felt like my whole world came crashing down. I’d finally moved on, thinking I may have a chance with someone, to move on, then as I was holding you—and God, it was wonderful—she died.” He swallowed hard.
She sat there listening to him, holding his hand and thinking of the right thing to say to him in response to what he had just said. When she opened her mouth to speak, she went blank. He was almost professing his love to her. This man whom, days ago, she’d decided would be fun to have a little affair with, then go back to New York in better shape. She now knew what a huge mistake that would have been. “Warren, I really don’t know what to say. I feel awful about Sarah. I feel in my heart, though, that I gave you the right advice about her, but I feel dumb for saying this…The other woman you speak of—is that me?”
“Yes,” he said as he uncrossed his legs and put his feet in the water beside hers.
“But you don’t even know me. I know you say you do, but that is just what my father told you. You can’t possibly have feelings for me.”
He felt mildly stupid, to say the least. How could he feel that way? “I don’t know, I just do. I don’t know—it isn’t really a good answer, is it? God, when I kissed you here. Our first kiss—I felt something, almost like…”
“Electricity,” she said, staring out at the pond.
“Yes. I knew you had to feel it, too.” He smiled faintly at he thought of the moment when the boat moved and she fell into his eager arms.
“I did.” She was thinking of that night also.
He wished he could kiss her right then, but didn’t want to scare her away. He didn’t know what she thought of him. If she thought he was a jerk for making a move days after his wife passed, when in reality Sarah had been gone for the last five years. Just realizing it himself he felt a little lighter, less depressed about being there with her.
“Can we start over? I know it’s a little lame, but I feel something with you that I haven’t felt in a long time. And I mean a long time.”
She looked over at his soft eyes—eyes that held such conviction, such warmth. She wanted to say no, and knew she should with everything that she had, but couldn’t. “Maybe.”
“I will take that,” he said. He pulled his feet out of the water and faced her. He smiled, then introduced himself. “Hi, I’m Warren Vance. It’s a pleasure to have finally met you.”
She let out a little giggle. “The pleasure has been all mine.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
The smell of Starbucks coffee brewing in the coffeemaker made its way through the hallway to her bedroom. She almost felt like she was in New York again, minus the sounds of ambulances and police cars zooming around throughout the night. She sat on the edge of her bed and stretched her arms out wide. Deciding it was going to be a great morning, she placed her fuzzy red slippers on her feet and walked out into the kitchen with nothing but her nightshirt and panties on. Her sister was having a small dispute with their brother Kyle. They were arguing over whose show they were going to watch.
“Aren’t you both a little old for that?” She grinned and pulled a small red mug from the cupboard overhead, then grabbed the coffee pot and poured a warm cup.
“Don’t forget, sis, you tower us by age!” Kyle smart-mouthed back. Smiling, he nudged his other sister in the side.
“I can’t help it if you were all accidents!"
They all laughed as their mother and father walked into the kitchen.
“Still at it, I see. We’re going to have to separate you into the corners like old times,” Gail said as she smiled at Katherine, Kyle, and Karen.
Katherine walked to the door. “Like always, it was Karen and Kyle. I’m innocent in all of this,” she said.
“Of course, my Katherine would never do anything like that,” Bill said, tousling his eldest’s hair. Kyle and Karen scoffed as Katherine stuck her tongue out in protest.
“Hey, your boyfriend’s here, Kat,” Kyle joked.
Katherine looked out the window. “Very funny, Kyle. Surprised you never got a job in a comedy club.”
“I know. Me, too,” Kyle said, thoughtfully looking up in a dramatic way. “I’m quite the thespian.”
Katherine laughed as she walked to the door. Forgetting that she was barely clothed and he
r hair was tangled up into a haphazard ponytail, she waved at Warren and smiled. He got out of his truck and came toward her.
Noticing the fuzzy red slippers, he grinned. “I have to get me a pair of those. They look exceedingly comfortable.”
“Oh, my God!” She looked down, noticed her feet. Then her hands went to her head and patted her hair as it dawned on her what she must have looked like. She could only imagine her teeth at that point. Realizing her legs were bare and she was wearing a black T-shirt with “Got Milk?” printed on the front, she was mortified! It was like her worst nightmare coming to life. Her face must have painted what she was thinking all over it.
He started laughing as she excused herself to the bathroom, slamming the door in his face.
He laughed as he pushed the door open. “Good morning, Bill. Ready?”
“Warren! Good morning! You want something to eat? I’m thinking of a slice of heart attack and a side of heartburn!”
Gail rolled her eyes in disgust as she opened the refrigerator, pulling out the bacon and eggs.
“You should be following the diet plan that I laid out for you, Bill,” Warren said just above a whisper so Gail wouldn’t hear.
Bill nodded his head as Gail spoke. “Are you hungry, Warren?”
“Thanks, Gail, if it’s no trouble.”
“None at all, you sit down and get comfortable. Everything going well? How are your parents doing?” Gail asked as she broke the eggs into the skillet.
“Everything is much better, thank you. Mom and Dad are getting ready to go back to Georgia as we speak. I drove them to the airport an hour ago.”
“Glad to hear it. Plans for today?” Bill ventured.
Warren glanced at him suspiciously. “No, just fishing with you.”
“About the fishing, you’re going out, but not with us. We’re going to the movies, aren’t we, Gail?” Bill said, wriggling his eyebrows up and down.
“Oh, Bill!” Gail laughed.