Chapter 8

The funeral was simple and tasteful. Allison had many friends so the funeral home was filled to capacity. Yet, despite the number of mourners, Marsha found a few moments alone with Dan.

"I'm so sorry," she said, wiping away a tear. "We'll all miss her so very much."

"There is such an emptiness. I'm not sure it can ever be filled."

"I'd like to help in any way I can."

He looked into her eyes and they both felt that same familiar connection they had experienced each time their eyes met.

"You've been a great help already."

"I'd like to be your friend, Dan."

"I'd like that very much. Anyone would feel honored to have you for a friend," he responded.

She blushed. "Any time you need me, please call."

"I will. I promise, if you'll do the same."

She wondered how much Allison had told Dan of what she had shared with her Aunt about her marital troubles. She decided that whether he knew or not didn't matter. Theirs was a special bond and somehow she felt safe with Dan, felt as if she could always depend upon him, count on his being there for her.

A long time friend of Allison's approached to shake hands with Dan and Marsha eased away but somehow the world had just become a wee bit less frightening.

It was raining lightly as Marsha pulled into Dan's driveway. A few weeks after the funeral Randy was away on a weekend fishing trip so she decided to avail herself of Allison's advice. She knocked and the door opened.

"Well, hello there beautiful," smiled Dan, an affectionate moniker he had adopted for her. "What brings you out in the rain?"

Marsha returned the smile and took a proffered seat in the living room.

There was a bit of small talk, but moments later Marsha got around to why she had come.

"Dan, before she died, Allison told me I could confide in you and I believe that."

"I would hope so," he answered.

"I need some advice."

"Advice is cheap and often you get what you pay for," he kidded.

She smiled too, but continued.

"It's ... my marriage," she began and before she knew it she had spilled every detail of Randy's obsession with young girls, her affair with Trent and her blackmailed servitude to Norman. "I ... I just don't know what to do," she intoned desperately.

"Well, of course your problem with Norman took care of itself."

"You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"Of course not. Anything you want kept secret will stay that way. It looks like Trent and Randy are your concerns now."

"I ... don't know how to explain this thing with Trent. He's just a kid and often acts that way, yet at times he conducts himself like a Don Juan and despite myself I keep letting him have his way."

"When will he be coming back for a visit?"

"Christmas he'll be here for three days. Then when school's out in the spring, he'll probably spent the entire summer break with us."

"You do know you're looking to him as a surrogate husband."

"I know. I keep telling myself I'm not that desperate, then he..."

"I'm not sure I can tell you anything you don't already know. Do you want this affair with Trent?"

"No, I really don't. I want to put my marriage back together."

"Then you've got to find the strength to say no to the boy. Even if Randy is aware, an affair, especially with Randy's son can do nothing but drive you and Randy further apart."

"You're right of course. I just don't know that I have the strength."

"You'll find it. I'm sure," he said.

"But what about Randy?"

"Hmmm," mused the uncle, "are you sure you want to try to repair... ?"

"Yes. I know it may sound crazy after all that's happened, but I fell in love with Randy and if we can just get back to..."

"How do you plan to do that?"

"I was sort of hoping you could help me out there."

"Well, aside from counseling, I'm not sure. I'm sure a counselor will tell you that you both need to reassess and make concessions."

"I'll do anything."

"That's the point. If you're the only one making concessions it won't work. You both have to want it to work and you both have to work at it."

The phone rang and Dan answered. "Dan Trebor. Yes, yes of course, I'll be right over."

"What is it?" she asked.

"A neighbor, she's eighty seven and lives alone. She's lost her cat. She's panicky. I told her I'd help look for it."