While she waited she checked her phone and confirmed that there was still no signal. Her friend was doing the same, and cursed quietly when he reached the same conclusion she had. “I don't know why I even bother worrying about her,” he growled, turning off his phone in disgust. “She hasn't earned it.”
That was . . . an unexpected outburst. “What about your brothers and sister?” Ellie asked gently.
Hal glanced away, looking ashamed. “Of course,” he said. “They can't help it that-” he cut off abruptly, grimacing.
An awkward silence settled, and she sank into fretting about her own loved ones. She was so deep in her worries that it came as a surprise when her friend abruptly spoke up. “Can I ask you something?” he asked, eyes still on the campfire.
Ellie bit back a groan. After the day they'd had, the last thing she wanted was to answer a question that started with that, especially considering the previous direction some of their discussions had taken. She made a noncommittal noise, hoping he'd get the hint.
Unfortunately, he didn't. “I've heard you talk about your ex, your kids,” he began slowly, careful tone suggesting he was hiding deep pain. “How did you get through your divorce without tearing your family apart?”
She felt a sharp surge of her own pain, thinking back to the last several months. The resentment and bitterness, the hurt and loneliness. Seeing the confusion and hurt her kids showed at suddenly only having one parent at a time, and having to move to the other house every couple weeks. “Who says I did?” she asked, more curtly than she'd meant to.
Hal snorted, not trying to hide his bitterness. “If you don't mind my saying, I do. You're the only person I've ever met who's been in one who can talk about it as if it wasn't unending torture. Who talks about your ex as if you don't hate his guts.”
He finally looked up, eyes haunted. “I know divorce,” he said quietly. “I've seen more of it, seen the wors-” he cut off, grimacing, then looked back down at the fire. “I know divorce. So why was yours different? I guess I just want to understand.”
He almost seemed to be asking that to the night, looking back at whatever memories so pained him and wondering why he'd had to suffer. He fell silent after that, waiting patiently for Ellie to open up.
Who knew, maybe it would be good to have a sympathetic ear to listen to her story. And maybe it could help him with his own issues with his past. “I got married to Nick when I was about your age,” she began quietly. “We'd been together for a while already, and it was more of a “seems like the right time” than any sort of whirlwind romance.”
Hal grunted sourly at that, then when she paused and glanced at him flushed slightly. “Sorry.”
Ellie waited another moment before continuing. “It was a good marriage, comfortable. We loved each other, loved our kids, and Nick working at home let him babysit while I finished my MBA and dove into my career.”
She paused again, although this time it was because she was sunk into her own bitter memories. “It . . . wasn't the easiest time for us. Nick's consulting wasn't bringing in as much as it had been, and I was mostly contributing bills, and to boot being away a lot of the time, so he had to deal with the kids and everything else on his own. We were both aware it was only a temporary thing, and when my career got started our financial situation would ease up and I'd be able to take the pressure off him.
“Except . . . after I graduated and started in my first position, the financial pressure was still there and he didn't ease up. If anything, he buckled down until he was working practically all the time.” She swallowed a sudden surge of emotion, then continued in a hollow voice. “Twelve, thirteen hours a day, even longer. Shut up in his office, even eating his meals in there. He barely spent any time with me, with the kids.
“And even when he wasn't working, he spent what little time we had slumped in front of the TV, vegging out to some show or playing a mindless video game. He'd go out on walks on his own, even though before then he'd usually taken the kids with him, and me when I was home. Up until then it had been one of his favorite things to do with us.”
Ellie thought back to that time, the loneliness and confusion, the hurt of feeling like he didn't want to be with her. He even seemed too tired for lovemaking, although not too tired to watch some idiot show. At least he was willing to cuddle with her when she joined him, although he never seemed to be watching anything she was interested in and refused to change to something they might both enjoy.
“I tried to talk to him,” she whispered, barely even aware she was still talking to someone. “I was seriously worried about what was happening in our marriage. He tried to tell me it was just temporary, that once we got past this financial crisis he wouldn't have to work so hard, he'd be more relaxed and less stressed about money and he'd have plenty of time to spend with us. But the way things were going, I saw serious cracks forming that might still be there even when we were in a better place financially. And if things went on for too much longer the way they were, it might destroy our family completely.
“I kept pushing, and he started to shut down. Like completely distance himself the moment I opened my mouth. The harder I'd push, the less he'd say, until he started finally snapping at me and then storming out, no word of where he was going or when he'd be back. Sometimes I wondered if he'd even come back at all. I didn't know what to do.”
To Ellie's annoyance, she felt tears pricking her eyes. She really hadn't wanted to talk about this, but it was too late to stop now. “It got to the point where I dreaded seeing him. It was always sullen silences, or him getting defensive the moment I said anything. I kept trying to talk to him anyway, since I felt like the only other option was just to give up on the marriage entirely.
“It finally came to a head about seven months ago. He told me if I was so worried about him spending time with me and the kids, maybe we should just be doing that instead of me wasting all this time badgering him in a way both of us hated. I told him that was exactly the problem in the first place . . .”
She trailed off, flushing slightly at the heat that had crept into her voice, and after a deep breath continued in a milder tone. “At that point he snapped like usual. But instead of leaving after some harsh words to the theme of getting off his back, he really jumped into the argument. He asked me what I wanted him to do, that he was already working himself to death just to keep ahead of the bills, and I was making what little free time he did have a nightmare.
“I yelled back that I just wanted to save our marriage, and maybe he should just cut down to a more reasonable work schedule and have a little faith that our finances would sort themselves out. That way he could actually try helping to save our marriage, too. He burst out laughing, not the pleasant kind, and asked if we should flood the house and hope that that would sort itself out, too.”
Ellie paused, scowling as the fury of that night returned. “Things got less reasonable after that, just more yelling. It finally ended up with him shouting that since I had all the answers and only wanted to listen to myself anyway, I was free to continue this discussion on my own and let him know how it went. He locked himself into his office, shouted through the door that maybe he'd finally get more than four hours of sleep for once if by some miracle I could leave him alone for that long, and that was the last I heard from him that night.”
She stared dully into the fire, remembering how she hadn't gotten any sleep herself that awful night. The kids had been hiding in their room during all the shouting, and once it finally ended they'd wanted to cuddle with her in bed and be reassured that the world wasn't ending. Then after they'd finally fallen asleep, she'd stayed up until morning crying her eyes out because to her it felt like it was.
“The next day, I asked for a divorce,” she said quietly.
After half a minute of silence Hal swore softly. “I'm sorry,” he whispered. She wasn't sure if he meant for bringing this painful subject up, or for what she'd been through, or if he was just acknowledging her obvious pain.
“I don't know what your own experience with divorce was, but now you know mine wasn't exactly a fairytale,” Ellie said wearily. Hal didn't respond, brooding over the fire, and she suddenly just wanted to be alone; the scent of the heating stew was no longer as tantalizing, and sleep seemed like the best thing in the world at the moment.
Sniffling and scrubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand, she stood and grabbed her tent, walking away to find a good spot to set it up as she spoke over her shoulder. “Good night.”
◆◆◆
Things were awkward the next morning when Ellie emerged from her tent. Especially when she nearly tripped over the pot with her portion of the stew just outside the door, crusted and inedible after sitting outside all night.
That actually kind of pissed her off. She could've eaten that, and Hal should have since she'd chosen not to. But at the same time she could see how it was an awkward position for him, since she'd headed to bed and left him the option of either chowing down her portion without her even telling him it was okay, or bothering her when she clearly wanted to be alone.
So there it was, a mess that made her empty gut growl even louder. Cursing bitterly to herself, she grabbed the pot and took it over to the river, with effort scraping it clean and filling it with water to boil.
Hal already had the fire started again when she stomped back to the camp. He looked studiously at the small flames licking the kindling with a flush to his cheeks as she settled down across from him. “Sorry,” he said.
It's the thought that counts, she didn't say. Instead she silently handed him the pot, then dug in her suitcase for one of the packs of jerky and began gnawing on one.
More than waking up on the wrong side of bed, she felt a bit awkward about how completely she'd opened up to the young man last night. More than she'd intended to, truth be told; in fact, more than she had to pretty much anyone else when it came to the divorce, even her closest friends.
Ellie supposed being out here alone with him, with the world ending around them, provided the foundations for a stronger bond than you usually saw in day to day life.
It deserved to be acknowledged, if for no other reason than to clear the tension in the air. “Thanks,” she mumbled around a mouthful of jerky. At his surprised look she continued hastily. “For letting me dump on you last night.”
“No, I . . .” he trailed off, considering his answer. “It was good to hear how it was for you. I'm just sorry you had to relive that pain. I didn't mean to put you through that.”
Ellie wasn't sure how she could've answered his question without reliving the entire miserable experience, but she believed he meant that.
The silence settled again, more comfortably this time. She let it hang for a while, but finally curiosity got the best of her. “How about your family? Are they in a good situation until you can get home to them?”
Hal grimaced. “I hope. Although “good” is always a bit of a stretch.”
She frowned at that, waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn't she cleared her throat. “I couldn't help but overhear a bit of your conversation with your mom, back at the airport. And then what you said last night . . . you don't get along with her?”
His grimace became a brooding scowl, although it wasn't directed at her. “As well as is realistic, all things considered.”
He once again fell silent. Ellie waited patiently for a minute before speaking quietly. “If you want to talk about it, I'm here,” she finally said.
“I don't, really. It's not something I like to think of now that I'm out of it, aside from to worry for my brothers and sister.” The young man glanced at her and sighed. “But I guess you told me your story last night, so it's not really fair not to do the same.”
She shook her head. “You don't have to if-”
Hal waved that off. “I don't know, maybe it would be good to have someone to talk to about it. I haven't really . . . most people are either caught in the middle of it and don't want to talk about it themselves, or I don't know or trust them enough to feel comfortable opening up about it.”
That was oddly flattering.
He sighed, staring ahead at the starkly picturesque horizon. “You might've picked up on it by now, but my parents are divorced. Only theirs wasn't quite as . . . amicable as yours.” Bitterness flashed across his features, swiftly suppressed. “Actually as far from it as possible.”
“I'm sorry,” Ellie said softly.
The young man waved that away as well. “It happened when I was really young, so I don't remember much besides a lot of shouting and screaming and crying and slammed doors. I still don't know the whole story of what happened between them. I mostly only got my mom's side of it, and the older I've gotten, the more I've learned that she likes to . . . paint situations to put her in the best light.”
“We all do that to some extent, even without realizing it,” she said, tone gentle. She'd probably done it herself when talking about her divorce last night, even though she'd done her best to be open and honest.
He snorted, bitterness returning. “Yeah, well most of us don't do it by trashing the reputations of everyone else involved. She got full custody of me, my dad even waived visitation to get out of the ugly situation, and she made sure to paint him as a monster who didn't love his son because of it.”
Ellie winced. Whatever her feelings about what her marriage to Nick had become before she decided it was time to end it, she knew he loved their children and they loved him. She could even admit that he loved her, even if circumstances and their own actions had ultimately torn a rift between them.
She couldn't imagine ever wanting to take Tallie's and Ricky's father away from them by making him seem like the bad guy; what would that do to two young children who were already struggling to deal with such drastic changes to their lives?
Poor Hal, to have suffered that sort of pain.
He noticed her sympathetic look and shrugged uncomfortably as he continued. “And yeah, he sucked for just walking away, and he's never tried to pretend he wasn't just as much at fault for the divorce. But even though it's hard to forgive him for leaving without a word, I can at least sort of understand why. My mom spent over a decade poisoning me against him when he wasn't there to defend himself, and I never even thought to wonder if there wasn't more to the story.”
Her friend got back to staring off into the distance. “Maybe she thought she was doing the right thing. I guess with him out of the picture she might've decided it was less painful for both of us to put it all on him, so we could move on.”
“It doesn't sound like it was less painful,” Ellie said, briefly resting a hand on his arm.
“Yeah, I don't see how it could've been any more painful, actually,” he agreed, gritting his teeth. “Although I guess if I'm being fair, once I realized how she'd lied to me all this time I might've overcorrected, shifting all the blame completely on her instead.”
He shrugged again. “Anyway, seven or so years ago my mom started going through a rough patch with my stepdad, and she began saying the same sort of things about him to me and my siblings. Only he was still there, and I was old enough see more clearly what was going on. It made me wonder if things were really so cut and dried with my dad, so I sought him out.”
Hal took a ragged breath and glanced at her. “Well, to make a long story short that put my relationship with my mom on the rocks. She couldn't forgive me for “betraying” her by wanting to at least talk to my dad. Started insisting more and more that I was just like him, which I suppose is kind of true since I look a lot like him, and the resemblance got more noticeable as I got older. Maybe that's why she began acting almost like she wanted to punish me in his place.”
Ellie couldn't help but think of her sweet little Ricky. Hal was sounding a lot like some awful Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come, if she ever let her relationship with Nick affect how she acted towards her son. Something she hadn't even considered before now, and resolved to never, ever let happen.
>
“So anyway, it got bad enough that the moment I turned eighteen, I was gone. I already had a job, so I was able to get my own place and put it all behind me.” He shook his head. “I feel bad about walking away from my brothers and sister, and I try to see them when I can. But I just couldn't stay in that situation a second longer.”
The young man's lips quirked upward bitterly. “I guess that also helped me have a better understanding of what my dad had done in leaving. We started talking more, even visiting each other when we could, although it wasn't easy with him in Japan. Didn't talk about the past much, which was fine by me. Mostly we just made up for lost time.”
“It's good to hear you're patching things up, in spite of everything.” Ellie leaned forward and briefly rested a hand on his knee. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”
“Well, I hadn't expected to find a friend out here I could open up to. Thanks.” He cleared his throat, forcing a laugh. “Anyway, we're on the final stretch to St. George. Should we get going?”
Ellie had no arguments there. She got busy taking down her tent, gnawing on jerky whenever she had a spare moment. As she worked she fantasized about making a beeline for the first restaurant she saw the moment they reached civilization. A hamburger, or a taco, or a pizza. Each thing she imagined made her stomach growl that much more loudly, and energized her to push the final distance.
At least until she remembered Zolos; restaurants would either be closed down, or too dangerous to visit. The realization completely took the wind out of her sails.
They got started, walking through the cool morning along the smooth road. Every indication suggested they should reach St. George within a few hours, but hard experience the last few days had taught her otherwise. Exhaustion and deprivation had taken their toll, and she was at the end of her strength.
Which was why she stopped for a break a bit earlier than usual to check her phone. Only to discover, to her delight, that when the device turned on she immediately began getting notifications for missed calls and messages.
Isolation (Book 1): Shut In Page 16