Chapter 11

The time had come. He couldn't put it off any longer. In the morning, after the kids were off to school, he would call Jeanette. He would talk to her and likely agree to come home. He wouldn't rush her and he wouldn't get mad. He would just let things happen when he called her. He was certain she wanted him to come home. She must know that it would be a very dispirited and disturbed husband who would return to her. By now, she must have thought about what she would say to explain why she was on that stage on Wednesday.

Tonight would be his second night away from home - away from his wife and children. It wasn't anything like a business road trip. He couldn't sleep, even though he knew he was exhausted. Would he get the answers he needed tomorrow? Would everything become clear then? Not likely, he guessed. The more he thought about it, the more he was certain that this was the turning point in his life - both his business life and his personal life. The strength of their marriage would be tested to its limits now. The guilt and blame and anger and damaged pride would all be out in the open. It truly would be starting all over again.

And what about the children? Andrea was sixteen and more worldly than he thought possible. The internet, television, and movies had made sure of that. Scott was thirteen, immature, and just now beginning to show signs of sexual awareness. He appeared to have discovered girls, his mother revealed recently. What would they make of all this? If they moved, they would have to uproot the kids and that would be hard on both of them. How would they explain what had happened? Were they too young to understand? Not likely. What would they think of their mother when they found out? He shook his head. They wouldn't be very happy with her.

He would sleep fitfully once more. The motel room was noisy from the nearby traffic. People came and went at all hours of the night with doors slamming and cars starting. He lay on his back, going over the possible scenarios of the next stage of his life. He tried to imagine living in another city and working for strangers. It wasn't that difficult, he remembered. Eight years ago he had returned from the East Coast and had found this job. With good people to support him, he could work anywhere. But what about the rest of the family? What about the grandparents? How hard would it be for them to adapt? The unknown and the unknowable. Surges of resentment passed through him from time to time.

At some point he drifted off into a shallow sleep. He was in and out of consciousness over the early morning hours. Finally at six he got up, turned on his laptop and headed for the bathroom. The shower temporarily gave him some clarity. He always was a morning person, but he would need an hour or two of rest sometime later today. He couldn't keep operating on adrenalin. He looked between the curtains and spotted a pancake house across the road from the motel. He dressed, put on his jacket and walked across the road to the restaurant.

He had been sitting on the bed in front of the phone for several minutes. Each time he went to pick up the receiver, he would stop and replace it. What would he say? How would he even begin the conversation? Should he wait for Jeanette to begin? He was tense, and afraid that even the light breakfast he had eaten might not stay down. Finally, as if it were a last resort, he picked the receiver up, pressed nine for an outside line, and then his home phone number.

"Hello?" It was a tired and dispirited Jeanette that answered that morning.

"Jeanette, it's me."

"Brent ... oh god ... I'd given up hoping it would be you. Where are you? Are you OK?" The words spilled out half in excitement and half in fear.

"I'm OK. I'm at a motel in the valley, about an hour away. I guess we need to talk." His voice was level and unemotional, and yet inside, he was in turmoil.

"Yes, Brent, yes ... we do need to talk. Please come home. I need you so much. I need to talk to you. I can't handle being here alone ... without you. Please come home." The desperation was clear now.

"Alright, Jeanette. Are the kids in school?"

"Yes. We can be alone. Is that what you want?"

"Yes. We need to talk. We don't need them to hear this."

A bolt of fear went through her. Was he telling her something? Was this the beginning of the end? "OK, Brent. I'll be here ... waiting for you," she finally managed.

Jeanette rushed around the house, making the beds and cleaning up the kitchen. She wanted Brent to think that everything was normal in the house. She looked at herself in the mirror. Lack of sleep the last two nights had taken its toll on her and she couldn't hide it. She brushed her hair and put on fresh lipstick and a clean t-shirt over her jeans. It was the best she could manage at that stage. She made a fresh pot of coffee just to have something to do, waiting for her husband to arrive. She was trembling and unable to sit still for even a moment. She finally ended up standing in the front window, waiting for his car to appear on their street.

Finally, she saw it turn the corner and then into their driveway. He didn't open the garage door and drive in as he normally would have. Again, that fear returned. Why wasn't he doing what he always did? She watched the car door swing open and Brent step out slowly. He looked as haggard as she did, she thought. She wanted to run to him and take him in her arms, but she dared not ... not yet. She waited as he slowly walked up the front steps and opened the unlocked door.

As he stepped inside, she waited for him to acknowledge her, even to come to her. She stood, rigid in fear ... fear of the unknown. At last, she could take no more and she began to break down. Her arms came up to cross her chest, her hands clenched in bloodless fists, eyes wide in terror and her shoulders shaking as she lost the ability to maintain any semblance of calm.

As Brent watched Jeanette and saw the almost immediate disintegration of her composure, he knew he could not resist his most basic urge to comfort her. He made the three steps to her and wrapped his arms around her and held her as she came undone. He lost track of how long he held her like that, neither of them saying a word. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, she began to calm down and regain some her self-control, he loosened his arms and leaned back to look at her tear-stained face.

"Why don't we go and sit on the sofa, Jeanette. We'll be more comfortable there," he said softly.

"I don't want you to stop holding me, Brent. Please, just hold me. I'm so scared," she confessed between sobs.

"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. I would never hurt you ... you know that. I just needed to ... I had to have some space to think. I would never leave you like this, Jeanette. I still love you, and somehow we'll figure out how to get through this. Whatever happens, don't think for a moment that I don't love you."

She began to cry again and pressed herself once more into his body. She held him tightly to the point where she was hurting him as she gripped his arms fiercely.

"Oh, Brent. I'm so sorry. I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am. I don't know if I can ever explain this to you. I don't know if I even understand it myself. I'm so screwed up. I'm just glad you're home. You are home ... aren't you? You will stay? Please," she begged.

"My stuff is in the car and I've checked out of the motel. I can't leave you on your own and I can't stand being away from the kids. I guess we're stuck with each other." There was a hint of resignation in his voice.

"Oh, thank god. I don't think I could have stood another night alone, not knowing where you were and what you were doing. I was so worried and frightened."

"What have you told the kids?" he finally asked.

"Nothing. I didn't know what to say. I thought about telling Andrea, but I chickened out. I decided it could wait another day. She just thought you were at business meetings. Scott just wanted to make sure you would be here for his soccer game on Saturday."

"OK, we can leave that problem for now. Let's talk about what happened and what it means to us as a family," still with a quiet, calm voice.