Chapter 3

When Jeanette Gordon arrived home just before four, she rushed into the house and headed straight for the shower in the ensuite. The stink of that place was on her and her clothes. She knew she would have to put them in the wash before Brent got home and got a sniff of them. It was a routine she had recently adopted, one made necessary by her new job. This wasn't something she dared share with Brent or the kids. It was so completely foreign to her nature that she couldn't believe she was actually doing it. She worried about how long she could keep this secret from her husband. Thank god he didn't frequent places like that.

She showered and put on fresh jeans and a t-shirt over her underwear. The kids would be home in a few minutes and she needed to get her clothes into the washing machine. She hurried downstairs with the clothes and went straight to the laundry room, throwing them into the machine, adding a bit of detergent and turning on the machine to "quick wash." It would be good enough for this small batch. Breathing a sigh of relief, she walked to the kitchen for some ice tea to quench her thirst, and a couple of Tylenol to relieve her headache.

As she started for the fridge, she noticed the objects on the kitchen table and stopped dead in her tracks. A ring was sitting on top of a piece of paper and slowly, almost in fear, she approached it. There was no mistaking, it was their wedding ring. She looked at her hand and saw hers and knew it could only belong to one person. Her hands were shaking as she reached for it. She had a horrible feeling inside. Intuitively, she knew this was going to be bad, very bad. She picked up the sheet of folded paper and opened it. The two words jumped off the page and hit her as if they were a club. "Wagon Wheel."

She sank into a kitchen chair and felt herself crumble into pieces. He knew. And the ring. What did that mean? The realization struck her immediately. He had left her. He was gone. He had learned her secret and he had left her. There was no other possible explanation. She panicked. She ran to the phone and dialed his cell. She had to stop him. She had to get him back. He couldn't just leave her. She had to explain -- try to make him understand.

The phone rang and finally she heard his voice. It was his voice mail.

"Brent, it's me. Please call. I need to explain. Please, Brent. You can't leave me. Please talk to me and let me explain. You need to understand. It was just a job. Call me. I beg you. Call me." She set the phone back on its cradle and stood, looking at nothing. Her life was falling apart around her and she could nothing to prevent it. How could she have been so stupid to think this was a good idea? Her thoughts were interrupted by the bang of the screen door on the porch as one of their children arrived home from school.

"Hey Mom. Anything to eat?" It was Scott, the perpetual hunger machine. She didn't answer him immediately. She was still in shock and trying to gather her thoughts as well as her wits.

"There's some cheese and crackers. Don't eat too much. Dinner will be at six." It was an automated response. Each day it was the same question and each day it was the same reply. She heard the screen door slam again and Andrea announced her arrival.

"Hi Mom. What's new?"

"Ah ... nothing much. Uhmmm ... your dad won't be home for dinner tonight," she managed.

"Another rubber chicken dinner, eh," the young girl said with a grimace.

"I guess." Jeanette didn't want to get into a discussion right now. Her mind was racing, trying to understand what had happened and what she could do about it. The headache was getting worse.