Chapter 7: Facing the music and wondering why it all happened

Jack’s mother insisted she would be fine since Joanne had set up housekeeping with her and they had begun talking about combining the two households into one. It made sense to them and it made sense to Jack. It took a large weight off his shoulders when he knew that Joanne would be there to monitor the loneliness and possible depression that his mother might encounter in the next few weeks.

He had called Donna the next evening and she wondered why he hadn’t called her the previous night. He told about the dinner with an old schoolmate and left it at that. It wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t all of the truth. He told her he would be back in Courtenay later the next day and would see her then. She was just happy to know he would be home again. Jack was not quite so happy.

He had agonized that night, losing sleep over whether to tell Donna what had happened or just shut up and keep it to himself. There was almost no chance whatsoever that she would find out about his fling with Marilyn, but he would always know and it would go against something he had always believed in; complete honesty in a relationship. He knew the danger of revealing what had taken place might destroy his bond with Donna and it was something he wanted to avoid at almost any cost. She had become far too important to him to lose now.

As he sat in the lounge of the ferry, he thought of his previous trip west to the island months earlier. He was seeking an escape and nothing had turned out the way he had expected. He tried to be someone else and had been unable to sustain it. He was who he was. His seduction and dominance of Donna had been an act and although successful, it wore thin as he realized he was falling in love with her.

What he could not understand was what had happened with Marilyn. It was so completely unlike him and so reprehensible that he couldn’t come to terms with anything that had happened. He was disgusted with himself and had gone over the events of that evening a hundred times in his head without any comprehension of why he had indulged himself so selfishly.

When he rang the bell at Donna’s house that Tuesday afternoon, he still hadn’t made up his mind on what he would or would not tell her. She must have been nearby as it was only a couple of seconds before the door swung in and she was standing there with open arms. He moved toward her and was rewarded with her comforting embrace and a heartfelt kiss. He had forgotten how he had grown accustomed to these simple things that were Donna’s.

“Welcome home, Jack,” she said in a subdued tone.

“Thanks ... good to be here.”

“How’s your mother?”

“Fine ... I think. Joanne is with her now and I think they might make it permanent.”

“That will be good for both of them ... won’t it?”

“I think so. I hope so,” he said quietly. “At their age, they can use a companion and a bit of comfort.”

He looked at her with a blank expression and then took her in his arms and held her tightly without saying a word.

“What’s wrong, Jack? I can feel it. I can tell something’s not right,” she questioned nervously.

“I knew I couldn’t fool you, Donna,” he said simply. “We’d better sit down ... we need to talk.”

Donna felt a cold wave of fear and nausea pass through her. This couldn’t be good. This was going to hurt. She knew it. She was sure it was going to hurt.

“Donna ... I’ve done something incredibly stupid, selfish and ... I don’t know how else to describe it. Perhaps evil.” he said looking directly into her eyes. “The night I didn’t call you ... the night I was out with an “old school mate” ... it was a school mate ... a woman ... and ... I slept with her.” He stopped, still looking directly at her. He heard her sharp intake of breath and saw her eyes widen.

“No! No! Not you, Jack? How could you?” It was a voice almost pleading for him to deny it ... to take it all back. She desperately wanted him to tell her it wasn’t true.

“I’m sorry, Donna. It’s true. I have no excuse. I wasn’t drunk or drugged or hypnotized or anything like that. I can’t tell you why ... I don’t know myself. I only know I am ashamed of what I did and I couldn’t live with myself if I hid it from you. Even if you never found out, I would always know what I did.” His voice was sorrowful and quiet. Donna sat facing him with a hand over her mouth and the wide eyed expression never leaving her face. They sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity.

Finally, Jack broke the silence. “I’m sorry, I’ve hurt you badly and I can’t take it back. I want you to know I would do anything to make it right, but I can’t take it back.”

“Just go, Jack. Please ... just go,” she said, tears filling her eyes and beginning their track down her cheeks.

He stood, looked down at her with a pained expression and left, closing the front door quietly behind him. He must have known he was going to make this confession and he must have known that it would end this way. He had left his bags in the car. He sat in the driver’s seat for a few moments, starin up at the living room window, but there was no sign of Donna. Perhaps it was an omen. He started the Volvo and drove quietly toward his house.

Jack did what Jack did best in times of crisis. He buckled down and threw himself into his work. Maurice had manfully tried to keep up with the workload during Jack’s absence, but in truth, he was swamped. Jack vowed to make that right with him. He had told him of his mistake with Marilyn and his confession to Donna.

Jack worked day and night to take the pressure off Moe and in a little over two weeks, they had not only caught up, but they were now ahead of schedule. In addition, he had not booked any hours for the first ten days to help compensate for the time that Moe had lost with his family. He hadn’t spoken to Donna since the afternoon of his return.

On the third weekend after his return, Moe and Annette invited Jack to dinner on Saturday evening. Jack almost declined and then thought better of it. He owed a big debt to them and an evening with them was little to ask of him. He knew he’d be getting the third degree from Annette and he was sure she had been in touch with Donna, but he hadn’t heard a word from Donna since he had left her home that afternoon. He had seen her in town once or twice, but only from a distance, and he didn’t have the courage to approach her.

When Jack arrived at the Desjardin’s home that Saturday, he was greeted at the door by both Moe and Annette and they seemed genuinely pleased to see him. Notably absent were the children.

“Where are the kids?” Jack asked, expecting to be surrounded by them with their usual enthusiastic greeting.

“They’re having a sleep-over at their friends’ house. We’ve got the place to ourselves,” Annette smiled.

“So, if you want to have that extra glass or two of wine ... you can stay in the guest room instead of going home,” Moe chimed in.

“That’s very thoughtful. I might just do that,” Jack smiled. “Now that we’re back to normal, we can relax a bit.”

He noticed the looks that Moe and Annette shot each other at his last comment.

“What?” he asked.

“Back to normal would have Donna here too,” Annette said with a frown.

“Ah ... that ... yes ... I suppose you’re right,” Jack said forlornly. “I guess I owe you an explanation.”

“Yes ... I think you do,” Annette said forcefully.

“OK ... time out,” Moe said quickly. “Let get a drink first and we can sit and talk and let Jack tell us what he wants us to know.”

“The hell with that! I want to know everything!” Annette demanded.

“Annette ... it’s very personal and I think ... private. I don’t want to hurt Donna any more than I already have,” Jack tried to explain.

“Oh bull! I’ve heard what you told Donna from Donna. You think we don’t talk about these things?” Annette was clearly in a take-charge mood. Jack looked at Moe and his friend simply shrugged.

“OK, Moe. Make mine a double,” Jack said with a wry smile and shaking his head while leaning back in the sofa.

Moe was back in a few minutes with a double scotch on the rocks for Jack, a white wine for Annette and a smaller scotch for himself. Moe fancied himself a connoisseur of single malts, and as far as Jack was concerned, he was.

“OK, Mr. Matheson ... fess up!” Annette demanded.

Jack began to tell the tale of his indiscretion in simple terms. He had been struggling himself with just how easily it had happened and couldn’t rationalize with himself on how quickly he had fallen into Marilyn’s web. He meant nothing to her and both of them knew it. It was just another trophy in her trophy case. It was almost like collecting autographs. Almost, but not quite.

Annette was clearly paying very close attention to everything Jack was saying and hadn’t interrupted him or for that matter, even taken a sip of her wine. Her eyes were fixed on him and she was studying him, hanging on every word. Moe, on the other hand, had been sitting back in his chair, listening, but without the intensity of his wife. He was almost halfway through his scotch when Jack finally finished his tale.

“So ... that’s how I got to be here alone. I was stupid, selfish, thoughtless and all the other adjectives you can think of,” he said forlornly. “What really hurts though is what I’ve done to Donna. I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for that. She didn’t deserve that.”

Annette finally sat back in her chair and took a sip of the wine. She was still looking intently at Jack and the frown seemed permanently etched on her face. Finally, she spoke.

“I thought you said you were in love with her.”

“I am. But I’m afraid I destroyed any love she had for me,” he offered sadly.

“No ... you haven’t. You’ve shaken her pretty good ... but you haven’t destroyed what she feels for you,” she said solemnly. “The only smart thing you did in this whole rotten episode was telling the truth and telling it right away.”

Jack’s head had come up and his eyes had widened. Was Annette holding a life-line to him? Did he still have some hope for Donna and himself? “Tell me, Annette ... what do I do now? I want her desperately. I need her in my life. I don’t know what I would do if I lost another...”

The statement ended there. He was equating his feelings for Donna with his feelings for Shannon. It surprised and shocked him. Annette saw the look on his face and recognized what was going through his mind. She quickly stood and came and sat beside Jack on the sofa, putting her arm around his shoulders. She could see the look of bewilderment on his face.

“Jack ... I have a suggestion,” she said finally.

Jack looked up at her with a questioning frown. “Go ahead,” he said quietly.

“Write her a letter. Don’t dwell on your confession. She knows what happened. Tell her how you feel about her and tell her in the same way you just told us. Apologize, but don’t overdo it. Make it a love letter, not a ‘sorry letter.’”

Jack felt the comfort and support from his new friends and began to understand the wisdom of Annette’s words. He loved Donna ... he had absolutely no doubt in his mind. He loved her and he would now have to fight for her return. The last three weeks he had been in his own private purgatory. Only the need to help Maurice bring the business back on an even keel had distracted him from the loss of Donna. At night, only fatigue allowed him sleep. In his dreams, he saw her face everywhere.