Chapter 3

I awoke early, probably because of my evening nap the day before, and I was refreshed, happy and full of energy.

A quick set of ablutions in the bathroom (which seemed to make my neighbours amorous again) and I was clean, dressed and ready to continue my journey. The sun was shining outside, and while the snow was still somewhat deep, it didn't look like it would last the day.

With the storm gone, cell service was clear again, and my phone showed weather forecasts all the way from New York to Iowa were clear and sunny, with no road closures – the crews seemed to have already cleared the highways overnight, and keeping them clear until the storm stopped was just routine.

I packed up my few things, called out "geez you two – get a room! Oh, wait!" to my neighbours and left with a smile on my face.

The same woman was working the reception desk, but she seemed to have gotten plenty of rest. She took my key and checked me out, and I thanked her for the pleasant stay.

I walked out in a cleared parking lot to the still snowy lumps of the cars. I'd forgotten which one was mine, but hitting the alarm found a beeping lump with some lights flicking on and off under its protective blanket.

I opened the driver's door, swept the snow that fell in onto the seat, put my overnight bag back in its spot on the passenger seat, and picked up the big two-handed scraper I had ready for this situation.

I put the key in the ignition and started the engine, turning the fans on full defrost, and got out with the scraper.

It didn't take long to clear off the car, and soon I was comfortably belted into my driver's seat, and ready to resume my journey.

And then, with nothing to immediately occupy my mind, doubt jumped to the forefront, and reminded me of last night, and of the years of fun and happiness we'd had.

My knuckles turned white on the wheel.

"No, if I go back," I argued with myself, "it'll just be the two of us walking on eggshells until things blow up again, and one or the other ... or BOTH of us will feel like shit. This past month was just about the worst of our..." I stopped to do some math. "Oh, shit. It would've been seventeen years..."

That left me reliving those long years of happiness.

"No. Look, okay," I said, bargaining with myself. "Tell you what, I'll flip a coin." I grabbed one from the toll stock in the glove-box door. "Heads - the SMART choice – and I continue on to Iowa and mom, and home and find someone to have fat little babies with. Tails – thinking down there – and I turn back to New York and try to beg Carla to take me back ... not that she'll just let me back in – maybe she's smarter than my libido!"

I flipped the coin into the air and let it land on the dash.

Heads. Keep going.

... and I really wanted to go for best two out of three.

That told me everything I needed to know about which choice I wanted to take, but it still didn't help me figure out which would be the better choice.

In the end, after arguing with myself even more, I decided to abide by the coin toss (and all of Carla's and my existing plans) and carry on.

To relax myself, I decided to turn on the radio.

I got static.

"That's right," I thought, "last time I listened to anything was back in Pennsylvania – different stations out here."

So I hit 'seek', letting the radio cycle up the dial until it found the first decent signal.

"-and that means no delays or school closures for this sunny Wednesday morning. You're listening to 92.1 The Wolf Classic Hits and here's a tune for you from 1984 to help you on your morning commute!"

And then the song started playing, and I had to rest my head on the steering wheel as I realized what choice I had to make.

"Oh, hey mom! I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Oh good – the roads are clear, I got a good night's sleep, I just thought I should call you before I left..."

"Yeah ... um, mom?"

"I ... I'm going back to New York. It's just that we talked last night, and I can't stop thinking about her and I know there's this elephant in the room about having kids and I love that she cares so much for me to let me go like this to be happy and I know I'm babbling but I just can't help it when I think of her I just can't be without her, mom, it's too much ... and ... well..."

"Wait, what do you mean 'Good'?!?"

"You expected this??? Well, why didn't you SAY something?"

"'I had to work this out for myself?' Mother, I just got DIVORCED yesterday! It's a little 'closing the barn door after the horse has bolted', don't you think?"

"Okay ... I know. It's just, you're so damn inscrutable – sorry, didn't mean to swear. But you say so little and yet you always seem to have profound advice."

"So your advice and insight here at this point?"

" ... okay. 'Mid-life crisis'? I can see that; I'm getting older, and the restaurant being done ... but 'empty nest'? What does that mean?"

"Wait ... but how does that apply to us? We don't have any kids – that's the point-"

" ... the ... wait ... you mean ... oh ... oh GOD. You're right."

"Yeah, yeah, I see that now – not 'textbook' but the same sort of 'emptiness' – wait, mom?"

"You went to college before you met dad, right?"

"And you got a degree, right?"

"Yeah ... so, that degree wouldn't happen to be in Psychology, would it?"

"Fine, avoid the question. I love you too, mom. So where does that leave me now?"

"Yeah, I'm going back, and now I've got your support about this? Okay."

"Yeah. We'll work this out – you just explained to me what is really getting at me with this, so..."

"Yes, mom. I should speak with a professional therapist about this; maybe Carla and I will see a marriage counsellor, but I think I've already got the solution for this 'empty nest' problem."

"'What solution?' Aha, not so fun now when the shoe's on the other foot, is it? Okay – Carla and I are we're opening more restaurants – we're starting with Chicago later this year. That should keep us back to our 'nest' nice and full, don't you think?"

"Yes, yes, we'll see the counsellor. I'm not going to just wing it – the divorce is evidence enough of what a couple of amateurs came up with. But mom? Thank you. This helped. A lot."

"Yeah, I know, but it ... I feel so much better than I have for a long time now, and you just had a big part in that."

"Okay, sorry I'm not coming out to see you – tell you what, both of us will come visit you soon! Maybe for Easter?"

"What? Oh, god! Sorry, didn't mean to swear! You're right – I hadn't thought of Valentine's much because ... well, you know. I need to- I gotta make plans! It's just..."

"Well, YES, I'm going to reconcile with my wife first before plotting romantic getaways or something. I'm not putting the cart before the horse, mom!"

"Call her? But ... well, I was kind of going to drive back and maybe surprise her..."

"Yeah, true, but if I call her before leaving and tell her everything, she's going to be spending the rest of the day on tenterhooks, waiting for me."

"Oh, right! Yeah spending the day still trying to deal with her husband getting further away from her would be worse. I'm sorry – you're right, mom. Okay, I'll call her as soon as we're done here."

"Yep, it's a date – we'll come out to see you over Easter – you'll be seeing more of us anyways, since we'll be almost moving to Chicago while we do all the stuff for the new restaurant. The original plan was for me to do most of the legwork and Carla to stay back in New York mostly and stop out ever now and again, but now?"

"Yes. I don't think I'm going to be letting her out of my sight much now. Again, thank you mom; you gave me the key to sort out all my problems. No, I did feel what the right thing was, but you helped me know why."

"Yes, I love you mom, and we'll see you soon, thanks again. Bye!"

I hung up, then paused before making the next call. I looked at the entry in my address book, and decided to fix something.