Fiction Redux
The ring bounced on the table in front of me, sounding like a penny dropped into a charity jar. I looked up from my paper and saw the end of marriage looking back at me, her face set in that determined look that always means that she's not sure if she's doing it right, but either way it will get done. "Do we have to throw the rings already? I haven't had mine off in thirteen years, but if you give me a minute I could probably get it off with some dishsoap." She wasn't amused. "I don't know if you've noticed, Jerry, but things have been over for quite some time." "I knew that things weren't great. How did they go this wrong?" I folded the paper and set it aside, waiting. We both knew, but I wanted to hear it, because I wanted to know that she was feeling the same pain that I was. I was rewarded with a flash of pain, but the anger was there, too. It had been there for a long time. "We stayed together for Scott, Jerry. You know it, and I know it. With him gone, this is pointless." She seemed about to say more, but let her breath out in a frustrated huff. "I wasn't with you for Scott, Anna. I worked hard to give you both a happy life. Do I deserve this?" "You worked hard to give us material possessions, Jerry, and that's not the same thing as happiness. We needed you here, not running away to hide behind your work while I watched our son die!
She began to cry, and I moved to give her awkward comfort. I held her as she sobbed for a while, saying nothing, projecting what strength I could. It was a difficult position to be in, the recipient of vitriol one minute, the source of strength the next. After a while, the tears stopped, and she seemed to come to her senses, moving away from me to get a kleenex. While she blew her nose I cleared my throat, swallowed my pride, and tried to salvage what was left of the world that I knew. "If I could go back to those months, Anna, I would. I'll admit now that I ran. It was selfish, and I should have been here for you. For him. He was my life, before, and I couldn't bear to watch him waste away. At the end, it was so hard, because he was so brave, and-" I broke. My son had died a year ago, and I had never opened up to anyone about it. Oh, there were the normal conversations of condolence, but they didn't really mean anything if you weren't really there. They just kind of went on around you, and you acted like someone else was going through this, and not you.
Anna didn't move to comfort me, and I can't blame her. I had left her alone, to grieve for months for the only child that we had, and that can leave a person hard. I wiped my eyes and blew my nose. "And at the end, he never stopped showing us how much he loved us. And I left you both alone. And I'm sorry." I wanted this to make it right, for my confession to bring us closer. It only made Anna even more uncomfortable. I sat down again, and looked at my hands, leaving the next step in this dance to her. If she really wanted to leave, if it were really over, I would know in the next few minutes. I held my breath inside and waited.
She sat down, and I let out a sigh of relief. "When did you stop being my knight in shining armor?" "I don't know. I think, when Scott got sick, and I realized that no matter how hard I worked, I couldn't stop it. I couldn't buy his health, or your happiness." "So why didn't you stop, then, and come home?" That was an uncomfortable question. "Would it have made a difference by then?" "It might have. It would have saved us from this moment." "But this can be fixed. We can work on this, go to therapy, I don't know." The schoolbus stopped at the corner, and we could hear the neighborhood kids disembarking, ready to run home and share the contents of their day. Her face twisted, and she paused before answering. "No, Jerry, it's over. And I'm sorry that it's over, because it looks like you still need to grieve. And maybe, if you had been here for me in the beginning, this wouldn't have to be the end." I didn't know how to answer that. I couldn't beg any more than I had, I didn't know how. Instead I picked up her ring, and tried to convince her one more time. "I can change, you know. I can be the man I once was, the man that you fell in love with." "No, Jerry, the man I fell in love with died in bed with our son. I've grieved for him, because I needed him, and I've lost a husband and a child. Whatever is left of my life isn't here." She stood up and walked away, leaving the front door open as she stepped outside. I could hear the laughter of the kids, the crunching of the leaves in the yard, and the end of my world as I knew it. I was an empty man in an empty home, and the shadows of evening were turning it dark.
She began to cry, and I moved to give her awkward comfort. I held her as she sobbed for a while, saying nothing, projecting what strength I could. It was a difficult position to be in, the recipient of vitriol one minute, the source of strength the next. After a while, the tears stopped, and she seemed to come to her senses, moving away from me to get a kleenex. While she blew her nose I cleared my throat, swallowed my pride, and tried to salvage what was left of the world that I knew. "If I could go back to those months, Anna, I would. I'll admit now that I ran. It was selfish, and I should have been here for you. For him. He was my life, before, and I couldn't bear to watch him waste away. At the end, it was so hard, because he was so brave, and-" I broke. My son had died a year ago, and I had never opened up to anyone about it. Oh, there were the normal conversations of condolence, but they didn't really mean anything if you weren't really there. They just kind of went on around you, and you acted like someone else was going through this, and not you.
Anna didn't move to comfort me, and I can't blame her. I had left her alone, to grieve for months for the only child that we had, and that can leave a person hard. I wiped my eyes and blew my nose. "And at the end, he never stopped showing us how much he loved us. And I left you both alone. And I'm sorry." I wanted this to make it right, for my confession to bring us closer. It only made Anna even more uncomfortable. I sat down again, and looked at my hands, leaving the next step in this dance to her. If she really wanted to leave, if it were really over, I would know in the next few minutes. I held my breath inside and waited.
She sat down, and I let out a sigh of relief. "When did you stop being my knight in shining armor?" "I don't know. I think, when Scott got sick, and I realized that no matter how hard I worked, I couldn't stop it. I couldn't buy his health, or your happiness." "So why didn't you stop, then, and come home?" That was an uncomfortable question. "Would it have made a difference by then?" "It might have. It would have saved us from this moment." "But this can be fixed. We can work on this, go to therapy, I don't know." The schoolbus stopped at the corner, and we could hear the neighborhood kids disembarking, ready to run home and share the contents of their day. Her face twisted, and she paused before answering. "No, Jerry, it's over. And I'm sorry that it's over, because it looks like you still need to grieve. And maybe, if you had been here for me in the beginning, this wouldn't have to be the end." I didn't know how to answer that. I couldn't beg any more than I had, I didn't know how. Instead I picked up her ring, and tried to convince her one more time. "I can change, you know. I can be the man I once was, the man that you fell in love with." "No, Jerry, the man I fell in love with died in bed with our son. I've grieved for him, because I needed him, and I've lost a husband and a child. Whatever is left of my life isn't here." She stood up and walked away, leaving the front door open as she stepped outside. I could hear the laughter of the kids, the crunching of the leaves in the yard, and the end of my world as I knew it. I was an empty man in an empty home, and the shadows of evening were turning it dark.