Learning Lessons: A Losing His Wife Novel

by KT Morrison

  “Kayla is from dotEd, the online teaching. You’re my girl.” He touched her cheek. “Look at me. I’d never hurt you, you know that?” She nodded for him, her eyes glistening, hanging on his every word.

  “Jess, I love you.”

  Jess’s mouth fell open. Her chest stuttered for a breath. Pete could literally see her head shaking. Her neck was stiff, clenched, the tendons stood out. Her eyes glistened wetly, tears pooled under them.

  “I love you too,” she struggled, her face trembled and screwed up. He put his arms around her and her arms went around him desperately, she clasped herself to him. He kissed her, her eyes closed and a tear streamed down her cheek. She hugged him tight, pressed her naked body against his, pressed it like she wanted to become one with him. She whispered into his ear and her little arms squeezed his huge neck as tight as she could.

  He pulled himself back, said, “I’m going to make love to you tonight like we’ve never done it before.”

  He had Jess nodding again.

  “I don’t play with trains, girl.”

  Pete felt something press into his back and it startled him. It was the banister. He’d fallen against it. He struggled to get his hands out of his pockets but they wouldn’t cooperate; they were heavy and wooden. His life was ending.

  Tyler’s hands roamed, stroked her skin gently, down her belly, her thighs, back up and across her belly again. She held him, her eyes closed, her sad face turning to something else; inspirited.

  “I want to kiss your whole body, like we did on our bed,” she whispered.

  “God, Jess, I can’t wait.”

  She said, “I’m going to make love to you all night.”

  “I want you so bad, Jessy.”

  Tyler’s hand touched her between her legs and her knees buckled. She gasped into Tyler’s mouth. He bit her lips, and she bit him back. Pete’s arm went around the banister, held it for dear life.

  Tyler said, “Go on, get yourself up into that bed, baby girl.”

  She nodded, stepped down from the stand on to the concrete. She gathered her dress up, clenched it to herself and when she trotted past Pete on her toes she couldn’t even look at him.

  “Jess—”

  But she was moving up the stairs and he watched her go. Watched that bare bottom that she used to wag only for him, those long legs that were his to caress, watched them get to the hall and disappear. When he turned back Tyler was in front of him. His hand was playing between his legs. He was hard, evident under his sweatpants.

  “We don’t need any cleanup tonight.”

  Pete had gone brittle, when he spoke his voice felt as weightless as crumbs. “Tyler, don’t take her from me. I’ll do whatever you want.”

  “She’s been gone a long time, Pete.”

  “She’s mine.”

  “Pete.” Tyler put his hand on Pete’s shoulder and he felt the weight of it push his feet into the floor. He stared into him. First time he’d felt afraid of Tyler. He felt a tremble in his belly, in his bowels. First time he’d felt that he could be mean or bent. And having him in his face in a tight space like that he thought how powerless he was. He always knew. It was scary. He was a powerful man. Not a kid really. Pete could call him a kid as much as he wanted if it made him feel better about his wife sleeping with him. But Tyler was a man. Solid. Heavy. His body took up physical space differently than Pete. They were like different things altogether. Pete knew, absolutely knew, that if Tyler wanted he could just hold Pete quietly, put an arm around his neck and squeeze him until he was dead. It was frightening. How had he ever let this man touch his beautiful wife? This man had held her and fucked her and kissed her and done all sorts of terrible things he’d probably never even seen. He’d let this demon into his family.

  Part IX

  New Year

  33

  White Christmas

  Sunday, December 25th

  Jess heard the stomping little boy feet outside the bedroom door and her heart fluttered in her chest. Her eyes shot open.

  Christmas morning; little boys couldn't wait to see what Santa brought them. Her sudden immediate urge was to grab the blanket and throw it over Tyler sleeping next to her as naked as she was. And, simultaneously, in that same instant, she had a desire to be caught. A feeling like it would be better if the boys knew. It would take that dreadful task from her; if they burst in here and found them it would be terrible but at least she’d never have to build the nerve and sit them down, try and explain herself.

  No need for worry; those little feet hammered down the steps and she could hear them cross the family room to the Christmas tree. She lay in bed and laughed. Her neck pounded from the adrenaline. Tyler stirred next to her. Her arms snaked around him, struggled to squeeze that big chest.

  “Boys are up,” she said. She pressed her bare skin against his back, caressed him with her naked body.

  “‘Kay”, he mumbled.

  “We better get up.” She looked at the clock. It wasn't even seven yet. Those boys.

  Tyler sat up and stretched and she watched her hand rub his back, squeeze his muscles.

  “What? ...Are you sleeping in?” he said to her, turning and catching her daydreaming.

  “No, I'm up,” she said and she sat up next to him.

  Tyler got out of bed and crossed the room and she watched that big body work. “Nice butt,” she said and he slapped it for her as he closed himself in the bathroom.

  She got up and threw her pyjamas on and a robe, went out into the hall. She stopped in front of the guest room door, stared at it. She knocked gently but there was no answer. She knocked a little louder, still nothing. She quietly opened the door, peeked in. He wasn't there. The bed was empty and made.

  She heard his voice quietly talking as she came down the stairs. He was in the family room with the boys, dressed and sitting on the couch. Pete was in the corner, teeth brushed, hair combed, shirt tucked in; their little boys were in their pyjamas and they each had a present torn open.

  “You guys couldn't wait for me?” she said, smiling. Not really mad, the scene too heart-warming to feel anger.

  Pete smiled, he said, “Just one present, Jess, I let them have one.”

  “Mm. I guess that's okay,” she said. “What did Santa bring?” She sat on Pete’s recliner.

  “Look, Mom,” Petey said and he held up a box. Build-Your-Own Creature.

  “Santa got that for you? Wow,” she said. Andy showed her his Lego Cargo Plane and she gave him the same mystified reaction; the wonders of Santa.

  “Can I get you a cup of coffee?” Pete said to her.

  “Yeah, that would be nice. Thanks, Pete.”

  Pete went into the kitchen and she grabbed Andy and hugged him to her. Petey was opening the box, pulling out the long legs and body parts. She watched him intently snap pieces together, slowly constructing what looked like a kind of scary mechanical spider. Then he called Andy to him and she watched her oldest boy show his little brother how it worked, even let him give it a try.

  “Oh, wow, and it glows in the dark too,” he said, reading the box while Andy made it march on the carpet. “We’ll have to wait until night...Mom, can we stay up later tonight...just a little?”

  She nodded. Pete brought her a coffee and she said thanks. He went back to the couch and sat down; she could feel him watching her.

  Petey said, “Can I open another present?”

  Pete looked to Jess and she took a deep breath.

  Andy said, “Shouldn't we wait for Tyler?”

  “Another gift?”

  Jess sat with her back against the couch, Tyler was in his corner and the boys were playing with their toys on the living room floor. They had their torn wrapping paper bunched up in heaps around them, the crumpled paper making them look like giants playing in a colourful mountain range. Jess had opened her lumberjack plaid pyjamas and her lotions, she had opened up her picture frame and said how much she liked the picture of the boys with Sargent that Pete had printed,

and she gushed over Andy’s dragonfly broach and how nice it looked on the scarf that he’d bought her.

  Now she held a small box. Light blue with a thin, dark blue ribbon curled at the top and Pete was tense with anticipation. She opened it and he watched her delicate fingers pull the paper apart and she found a jewellery box.

  “Oh, Pete,” she said as if she knew. She pulled the top up and he could see her eyes when she saw the heart-shaped pendant he bought her, studded with diamonds. “Oh Pete, you shouldn't have. That’s too much.”

  She looked for a moment like she didn't know what to do. She took the pendant out, the long gold chain hidden in the velvet fabric of the box unwinding behind it. She opened the gold clasp and Pete could see her hands were shaking. Her mouth was firm, her face tense. She still wasn't looking at him. She put her hands behind her neck, up under her silky hair and she locked the necklace in place and then her fingers ran on the gold chain and centred the heart on her collar. Tyler's big hand squeezed her shoulder and she looked up to him. Pete's heart sank. He didn't know what reaction he wanted—he didn't know what he wanted to see her do—he knew he touched her with his gift but he guessed that he hoped there would be fireworks. A spark, like she would jump on him, lock her lips on his and act like a woman who would never, ever leave him. She looked back to Pete and she said, “That must've cost so much. Are you sure?”

  He nodded. He wanted to say, Jess, I love you I would do anything for you, but somehow with Tyler over her shoulder he lost his nerve. He put his hand out and hoped she would take it. She did, and he pulled her gently towards her and she touched her forehead to his and he put his hand on her neck. She said, “Oh Pete, thank you.” She kissed him on the cheek and she ran her warm hands along his neck and she said, Thank you, again.

  “Now it's your turn,” she said and he felt the door close in his heart—that moment that he’d anticipated was over; his gift to her was given, not forgotten, but now in the past.

  He picked up the box that she had given him, wrapped in Christmas paper with cheerful cartoon Santa faces and a big white ribbon that went all the way around. There were scissors on the coffee table and he cut the ribbon, let it fall free, dug his fingers into the corners of the wrap and shredded it off.

  He trembled when he saw it. It couldn’t be. A 1980 Lionel Loco 726 Steamer. Had to be a Grade A, came with the box. Cowcatcher intact, pristine. The train he’d wanted and lost. Better. Perfect.

  He choked. Sobbed. Caught himself. Didn’t want to lose it all in front of anyone. His breaths came ragged as he struggled to contain himself.

  Jess’s arms went around him. They were sitting cross-legged, knee to knee, and she bent and put her arms around him, her palms circled his back. He cried softly into her shoulder.

  “Oh, Jess. Jess.”

  “I got that a while ago, Petey, couldn’t wait for you to open it.”

  He hugged his train to himself, squeezed it like he wanted to squeeze the woman he loved. Tears rolled down his cheeks, down his neck.

  “There, there, baby,” she whispered.

  He sniffed loudly, “Yeah,” he said, trying to compose himself. She let him go. He sat up. His hands went over the box, caressed it. He had to cover his face with his hands, he could feel everyone looking at him. The boys worried faces turned to their dad.

  “It’s okay, guys. Your mom just knows how to buy gifts is all.” He cried into his palms.

  Petey left his spider-creature and came to his dad, climbed on his back and he hugged him. Pete laughed, “Don’t worry, kid, I’m happy. Your mom got me something special.”

  “I know dad, it’s your train.”

  “You want to help me set it up?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Come down with me after breakfast?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’ll be the first to run it.”

  “Okay, Dad!”

  He rubbed Petey’s forearm, tapped him so very lightly, let him get back to his toys, could see his excitement, felt invigorated by it. His face scrunched up, he struggled not to break down again. He wiped his eyes.

  “Did you guys do your gifts?” he said, looking up to Jess. She was watching him, Tyler was watching him too over her shoulder.

  She said, “Yeah, we did our gifts already.”

  He said, “What did you get for Tyler?”

  She looked to Tyler, said, “Oh, I couldn't put it under the tree.” Tyler smiled.

  Pete couldn't help making a face, pulling the corners of his lips up showing a little bit of disgust and a little bit of hurt.

  Jess said, “Oh Pete, not like that—it's just something that doesn't go under a tree.”

  “What is it?”

  She didn't answer, she just shook her head and she looked away.

  Pete said, What did he get you? and she laughed and said, Now that really couldn’t go under the tree, and Tyler laughed too.

  Pete didn't press it. He nodded, looked back down at his train.

  After they opened their presents Pete and Tyler cleaned up the wrapping paper that covered every bit of the floor of the family room around the Christmas tree. They did it in silence; working together but not talking. The boys played with their toys while they watched TV. Jess made breakfast for them all. For an hour Pete didn’t feel too miserable at all. Everyone was together, everyone seemed happy, it was Christmas, the house smelled like bacon, coffee, and maple syrup. Jess danced around the kitchen in her robe with her diamond necklace and he watched her. She was happy. As happy as him. Even though there was an enormous intangible threat of destruction hanging over them ready to smash them to smithereens if the cable snapped, for a few hours that morning everything seemed quite warm and fine.

  After breakfast when Pete was doing the dishes Jess told him she didn’t want to go to Patty’s this afternoon.

  “What? Why?”

  “I just feel funny is all.”

  “Jess, we have to. She’s expecting us.”

  “Go without me. Take the boys.”

  “Jess, she’ll go crazy. You’re going to stay back here with Tyler?”

  She shrugged and nodded.

  “No way, Jess. Don’t do that to me. Not on Christmas. Not now. It’ll ruin everything. That’s all she’ll talk about.”

  “Pete, it just feels strange.”

  “Jess, it would be so much worse if you didn’t go. So much worse. Please, Jess. The boys? What are they going to think?”

  “Pete...”

  “Please, Jess. Bring Tyler,” he pleaded with her.

  She was relinquishing. She was shrugging her shoulders now, but her head started to roll around on her neck, her eyes looking up at the ceiling.

  He took her shoulders. “Please, Jess. Please.”

  “Fine,” she said.

  And after that hurdle was cleared he went upstairs to get ready to go to his sisters for Christmas dinner and some of the pain that had seized his heart had loosened its hold. Tyler stopped him in the hall. Coming out of the master bedroom while Pete went into the guest bath for his shower, Tyler stopped him with a big hand on his shoulder.

  “Hey man, I know we didn’t get each other gifts, but I have one for you.”

  “Oh yeah?” he said, dubious, sensing something.

  “I’ll give you one more week with your wife and your family. Okay? Seriously, man. Merry Christmas.” Then he went downstairs and Pete went and sat on the edge of the tub and wanted to die.

  Pete showed Petey how if you turned the dial on the control box you could adjust the speed. He had Petey on his lap, sitting on his stool in the basement, just the two of them. It was a fantastic Christmas moment. The greatest part of this whole Christmas break.

  “I know, Dad, I’ve seen you do it. I know how.”

  “Okay, Petey. Just let me show you any way. I like to.”

  So he went on, showing him the old control box his own dad had used. It had a flat aluminum face, dials and switches like an old stereo from another time. It had metal sides that someone had thought would look better with a woodgrain embossed on them. Petey asked him what each switch did. He could tell his kid was humouring him because he already knew the answers. Maybe Petey needed this moment too. It had been a strange time for his family and as much as he and Jess did everything they could to protect the kids it had to be taking its toll on them. Petey more than Andy. But then Andy looked to Petey for so much guidance. Little Petey was a bit young to have so much burden. He kissed his back.

  Who knew where his son was going to take this thing if he had the spirit? Probably have the whole thing wireless and auto-control. Stuff from the future Pete couldn’t even imagine.

  “So, buddy, you think you got the hang of it?”

  “I know I do, Dad,” he said, and Pete could hear the conviction in his voice. He peeked around at his little man, saw the intensity in his eyes as he worked the trains, tried fine tuning things in the switchyard. Still a kid, but an emerging independence. He was becoming a person. This would be his last Christmas where he believed in Santa. Next year he’d be part of the adult team, part of the shadowy conspiracy tricking baby Andy into believing it was all real. Petey was emerging into the world where you became aware that nothing was real.

  “Dad?”

  “Yeah, bud?”

  “Why do you sleep in the other room?”

  Pete had known this would happen. They were still careful about what they let the boys see. But one of the things that had fallen off was the 3 A.M. bedroom swap. It was a lot of trouble. Sleep-disruptive. You couldn’t do it every night. And Tyler was in there all the time now. The door was always locked.

  The boys didn’t burst in in the mornings, it wasn’t like they did that and you had to preserve a family image. They didn’t come in the bedroom if the door was closed so why did everybody have to wake up in the middle of the night and play a dirty game of musical beds? He should have fought for it to continue. Protect his kids a bit better. But he’d given up in a lot of ways. And somehow he agreed that he needed his sleep. Now it would seem that while Petey hadn’t burst in on Mommy and Tyler sleeping in bed together, he might have seen old Pop coming out of the wrong bedroom.

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