by T. K. Chapin
When my eyes blinked open the next day to my alarm clock on my phone, I leaped up and checked out the window to make sure the unmarked cop car was still sitting outside. It was. Turning around, I was surprised by the absent smell of coffee coming from the kitchen. Sitting up, I stretched. She must have had a rough night again, I thought to myself as I got up.
Tiptoeing up the stairs to our bedroom, I found my way to the door and peeked in. I noticed the bed was made.
“That’s strange,” I said, turning around and making my way back downstairs to the kitchen. Running the faucet in the sink, I glanced out the window that overlooked the backyard.
Seeing movement in the guest house, my heart began pounding. Was that Robert? No. It couldn’t be. The cop last night said they picked him up a few blocks away. Another thug of Lincoln’s? Did they sneak past the cop?
With the coffee pot still in my hand, I went out onto the back porch and down the steps into the yard. Approaching the guest house with caution, I kept my arm cocked back, ready to smash the glass coffee pot over anyone’s head I could find.
I turned the doorknob and pushed open the door to the guest house that led into the kitchen.
“Get out of here!” I shouted without going inside.
“Oh hush!” Susan said from the living room of the guest house, just beyond kitchen.
“Susan? What are you doing out here?” I asked, relaxing my arm as I walked inside.
“I slept out here last night.”
Relaxing more, I set the coffee pot down on the kitchen table. “You’re not staying out here.”
She came in from the living room and said, “I most certainly am.”
“You’re not making sense.” I crossed my arms. “What is this about, Susan? Because of last night?”
She turned her head and looked out to the backyard. “You used to be a man I admired . . . and now . . . I don’t know where you go or with whom, or what you’re doing . . .” She paused.
I knew she was right. I need to tell her everything.
She looked over at me with tear-filled emerald eyes and continued. “You’re a stranger.”
I grabbed her hand as I felt my heart crumble at seeing her sadness. “Susan, you know me! I’m still that guy you love! I’ll tell you everything! I won’t hold anything back!”
She sniffled. “I saw the bank account.”
I let go of her hand, letting it fall back to her side.
“I can explain.”
She shook her head. “You spent our savings! Seventy thousand dollars, Rick.”
“I know. That wasn’t right. But here’s what happened—”
“Stop!” she shouted. “We used to talk about twenty dollar purchases when we were younger. What was even going through your mind?”
“Hey, now!” I snapped back at her. “Look at all this stuff that fills the guest house. We didn’t talk about that!”
She laughed under her breath. “What . . . maybe six grand worth of stuff in here. I lost my MOTHER! What is your excuse?! Because as far as I’m concerned, there is nothing you can say to excuse yourself. You spent seventy thousand dollars, Rick!”
Cringing at her tone with me, my lips pressed tightly together. I was trying to tell her, but she wouldn’t let me explain.
She said, “You’re not the man I married, this is not what I signed up for. I want you out! I don’t want to see you! If I thought I could kick you out of here I would, but you’re a stubborn man, so I’ll just live out here! I will not share the same roof as you!” Her words cut through me. They cut deep. Susan’s lip tightened and she stormed out of the guest house. She stuck her head back in through the doorway for one more jab, and said, “I don’t know who you are anymore, Rick Alderman.”
I went over to the doorway of the guest house and watched as she left through the side gate in the fence. She was burning with anger.
Rubbing my chin with the top of my palm, I went back toward the house. My body ached and I felt like I’d suddenly aged fifty years. The one person I cared about the most in the world felt like she didn’t even know me, but the thing was—I didn’t know myself either.
Defeated, I dragged myself into the house and up the stairs to the bedroom. I laid out my clothing on the bed for work and got in the shower. The grime and sweat washed away from my body and made their way down the drain, but the regret and guilt seemed to stick, and soap wasn’t going to do the job.
The fire station’s bright and usually colorful red paint outside seemed a little dimmer that morning as I arrived for work. And while my body was arriving for work, my mind lingered elsewhere. It was searching for how to make everything right with Susan, searching for solutions to the problems I’d caused. Distracted in my thoughts, I didn’t even notice Cole in the hallway when I arrived at the top of the stairs in the fire house.
“Alderman,” Cole said, startling me out of my thoughts.
I glanced up at him and asked, “What is it, Taylor?”
“You saw me last night. Didn’t you?”
Taking a deep breath as I unlatched my mind from my thoughts, I recalled seeing him pull away from the curb. “Yep,” I replied, and then cleared my throat. “You have some nerve sticking your nose in my business, Taylor!” I blurted out.
“You should be thanking me, not yelling at me!” Cole retorted, crossing his arms as he positioned his feet shoulder length apart from one another.
“I was finally going to be done with these . . . these vile men, and you went and screwed everything up!” I snapped at him as I stepped closer. I got right up in his face. “You jeopardized not only my life, but those who I care about most. So I guess if you want a ‘thank you’ for that, here it is, buddy: Thank you for ruining everything. You may have thought you were helping, Cole, but it wasn’t helpful!”
Cole’s face went red from the top of his forehead down his neck. He was speechless.
I left the hallway and went into the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Taking my cup, I headed back through the hallway over to the multi-purpose room. By that time, Cole was gone from the hallway. I took a seat on the couch next to Ted. He was pretty entranced with the television. There was some political coverage on the president. I sat there for a bit, not really paying attention to the TV. Just thinking, praying and hoping that I could find the right way to tell Susan and figure out a way to make this work.
“He’s a Muslim,” Ted said suddenly.
“Oh, yeah,” I said, barely paying attention to him.
“Rick,” Cole said from the doorway.
“What?” I asked, finding it strange that he used my first name.
He turned and nodded down the hall as he left.
Sighing, I said, “Guess I better follow?” Getting up a little too quickly, something tweaked in my back again. “Ugh,” I said, followed by a grunt.
“Old man,” Ted laughed from beside me on the couch.
I smiled. “You owe be twenty bucks, by the way. Mariners won.”
He smiled. “That was a bad game. I don’t have cash on me right now. I’ll bring it in.”
“A win’s a win, right?” I replied.
“True that,” he replied, returning his eyes to the TV.
Going out into the hallway, I saw Cole walking toward the sliding glass door in the dining hall. “Oh, great. A lecture.”
Cole stopped and waited for me. Coming up to him, I raised my eyebrows.
“What is this? Some lecture? I don’t need it, Cole. I’m over fifty years old.”
His eyes narrowed on me. “You’re right. You are fifty-three years old, man.” He took a deep breath. “Tell me about these shady dudes you were dealing with. I can put in a good word over at the police station with the guys over there.”
“Don’t worry about it. Just stay out of my way.”
He shook his head.
“You don’t understand, Taylor.”
He pushed his right index finger into my chest. “No. You don’t understand!” He adjusted his footing
as he lowered his voice. “The mayor is moving forward with the cuts. There’s going to be loss across the board. Not just here, but over at the police department too. If you’re in trouble, let’s get a couple of extra guys in blue to look into it while they still have the resources to do so.”
My anger fell away immediately and was replaced by sadness. “The leader’s name was Lincoln. Jet black hair, parted to one side. Small mustache and a cigar always hanging from his lips. The kid, Robert, who helped him, was picked up last night.” My thoughts fell away from my drama as I turned and saw Brian in the kitchen. I lowered my voice. “Who’s getting axed?”
He jotted down my description of Lincoln on a piece of paper and shoved it in his pocket. Quietly, he leaned in and replied, “Gomer, he’s newest. Then . . . well, that’s what I needed to talk to you about.”
“What does that mean? Don’t tell me my pension—”
Cole opened the sliding door and bowed his head for me to go first. Walking through the door, I kept looking back at Cole.
“What, Cole? I’m not losing my pension . . . am I?”
“Of course not,” Cole said, taking a seat in one of the chairs out on the patio.
I joined him at the table and pulled my chair up close. “What’s going on, Cole?”
“We were able to get the pensions left alone,” he said.
I felt relieved.
“But what we need to talk about is early retirement,” Cole said, bringing his hands together on the table. “Micah will be taking early retirement next year, and you can take it now, if you want.”
Leaning back in my chair, I asked, “What’s the alternative?”
“We cut more from the crew,” Cole said softly. “You were already going to be retiring in a couple of years; this just gives you a jump start.”
I stared at him with a blank face. Retirement from working was something I’d looked forward to for many years; it was going to be more time with Susan. But with our strained relationship, I worried what retirement would look like now if things were to stay the same.
“I’ll give you a few days to talk to Susan about it.”
I laughed as I shook my head and glanced over the railing of the balcony that sat beside our table. “She left.”
“She moved out?”
“Kind of.” I looked over at Cole. “She moved into the guest house.”
“I don’t really know all that happened, Alderman, but I do know a few things. You love God, you love your wife, and you love this job. This job is soon ending. I’d suggest figuring things out between the other two loves in your life.”
“I know,” I replied. “I just don’t know how to fix things.”
“God is always the answer.”
My phone rang. It wasn’t a number I recognized. Standing up, I said, “I’ll talk to you later, Taylor.”
Stepping away from the table, I answered it.
“This is Pastor Conner.”
“Oh.” Part of me wanted to hang up right then, but I respected the man too much to not hear him out.
“Before you hang up, I want to ask you something.”
“Make it good. I’m at work.”
“Okay. How would you feel about coming in for some counseling? For you and Susan?”
“Susan put you up to this? I bet she did. She thinks she can just steamroll—”
“No,” he said, interrupting me.
“What? You just dreamed this up on your own?” I asked, walking down to the end of the balcony.
“No. I saw you two at the house the other day.”
I laughed. “You don’t even understand what was going on.”
“I don’t need to. Listen: come meet with me for a half hour sometime this week and let’s talk.”
“I don’t know what Susan’s schedule is.”
“Not her this first time. Just you.”
“I don’t like your aggressiveness, Pastor Conner. I find it uncomfortable and a bit brash.”
He was silent for a moment. “Rick. I’ve known you for a long time, and I know what you respond to. You might not like it, but this type of communication is what works. Just meet with me this Thursday, if that works for you. At 2pm.”
He was right. There wasn’t much more that I didn’t like in this world than a person who didn’t have the nerve to speak directly. “I have to work. Let’s do Saturday. 2pm.”
“That’s fine. See you then. At my office, in the church.”
“See you then.”
Hanging up the phone, I stared out at the city of Spokane as I rested my arms on the railing. This city wasn’t going to be under my watchful eye for much longer, and if I wanted to enjoy these final years of my life, I knew a good relationship with my wife and my God were crucial. The idea of her spending my last years in the guest house made me feel sad more than anything else. A separated life wasn’t what I desired for us.
CHAPTER 15
Saturday soon arrived. Susan and I hadn’t spoken more than a few words to each other all week. She kept to herself out in the guest house. I hadn’t even told her about the news of the early retirement. I figured she wouldn’t care or she’d show little interest in the information. After all, she was becoming quite accustomed to the new arrangement. The other night, I spotted a few of her friends over in the kitchen. They sat around the table playing bridge and chatting it up. She appeared happy, and it pained me. It also hurt how easy it was for her to not be in our house, in our own home. I, on the other hand, refused to believe this was the new way of living.
One of my eyes stayed partially shut as I ran the water in the sink to make a pot of coffee that early Saturday morning. Staring out the window as I let the water fill the pot, I saw the lights off in the guest house. I didn’t like her being out there, but if she wasn’t going to be living with me, it was the best place for her. I still worried about her safety, though. And that of my daughter. Sure, the kid was locked up, but that didn’t mean anything. Lincoln was still out, and he still had plenty of muscle in his pocket.
The phone on the wall rang. Stopping what I was doing, I set the pot down and went to answer it. It was my daughter, Beth.
“Hey, Beth.”
“Hi, Dad.” Her words sounded strained and worried.
“What’s going on?” I asked, leaning against the wall in the kitchen next to the phone.
“It’s Philip. He’s sick.”
“Oh? What’s wrong?”
“He has a fever that won’t come down. I haven’t ever seen anything like it. Is Mom there?”
We hadn’t told Beth about anything. She was in the dark. My eyes lifted up toward the French doors that led out the back and to the guest house. “Let me go find her,” I said.
Letting the phone dangle there against the wall, I headed out the double doors and out to the guest house. She didn’t answer the door. I opened the door and called out for Susan as I went through the kitchen and into the living room.
She wasn’t there.
Checking the two bedrooms, she wasn’t there either. I began to worry. Jogging out of the house, I went through the gate and to the driveway. Her car was parked.
I went up the front steps of the house and back inside to the phone. “I don’t know where she is, Beth.”
“What do you mean you don’t know where she is? Did you check the laundry room?” Beth asked.
I sighed. “She isn’t here.”
“How come you didn’t just tell me that from the beginning, Dad?”
“I didn’t know.”
“How did you not know that Mom wasn’t home?”
A child’s scream came through the phone. It was opportunity to escape the conversation. “You sound busy. I’ll have her call you when I see her.” Hanging up the phone, I ran a hand through my hair as worry began to take the steering wheel of my mind once again. Was it Lincoln? Did she get kidnapped? Heading back to the front door, I peered down both directions of the street.
Then I heard a noise from inside the h
ouse and I heard the French doors from the kitchen shut.
I ran through the house and back to the kitchen. I was relieved to see it was Susan.
“Where were you?” I asked.
“Why?”
“Beth called.”
Susan sighed. “We need to tell her.”
I put a hand up as I came over to Susan. “We can wait. We don’t need to tell her right now.”
“For what? This is our life now until I get into a new place.”
“A new place?” I asked, surprised. “What’s wrong with the guest house?”
“I don’t need your watchful eyes on me. I see you peeking out at me all the time. Marge thought you were being super creepy the other night when we were playing bridge.”
“Marge said that?” Shaking my head and hurt by the comment, I said, “She knows me. Why would I be creepy to her?”
“I don’t know, Rick. I’m moving. I already have a place lined up. It’s available in the beginning of November.”
“Don’t do that,” I pleaded.
“You can’t stop me. I’m not yours to control,” she retorted. She grabbed for the door handle to leave, but paused. Looking back at me, she said, “I want that washer and dryer, by the way. I’m getting tired of waiting until you’re at work.”
“Why are you being so cruel?” I asked.
She let go of the handle and walked over to me. “Don’t you think it was cruel what you did, Rick? You left me in the dark. Not for a day or a week, but years. You lied to my face daily. You stole from us. You won’t even tell me the full story! You’re a liar and a thief, and I don’t know how you live with yourself, but I’m glad I don’t have to anymore!”
I could see through her cruelty and saw the pain behind her eyes. She was trying to keep a strong outward appearance, but I knew her too well. “I’m sorry for what happened, Susan,” I said in a soft tone as I lightly grabbed onto her arm.
She brushed my hand away and turned to leave.
“Where did you go?”
“When?”
“When I was looking for you . . . when Beth was on the phone a few minutes ago.”
“Went for a walk,” she said with a soft and hopeless kind of tone. She turned and headed back to the door and left. Watching her as she shut the door behind her and walked across the deck, my heart hurt for what I’d done to her.