Acts of Desperation(2)

I gasped. “Well, that doesn’t sound like him. I thought you both loved that house.”

“I do. And we’ve put so much work into it. Dad spent two years building all those cabinets in the kitchen, and it was our first place together and where the kids were born. It would break my heart to leave. But he said we need to ‘live near people of our status’...whatever that means.”

“Ok,” I said. “That does sound a little weird, but I still can’t see him cheating on you. Sounds like his business is really taking off so it has to be stress…or a mid-life crisis. His dad just died, and they were really close. And he just turned forty, too. It’s a lot of stuff to process,” I said.

“I don’t know,” she said with a sigh. “At least he’s only been travelling three days this week, and he’s supposed to be home tonight, but he’s usually gone five to six days in a row now. He’s being really secretive about where he’s staying, too, and sometimes he doesn’t even call home to talk to the kids…let alone me.”

“That has to be really hard on you.”

“With all the activities he keeps signing the kids up for and with me teaching, I’m running around like a chicken with its head cut off. When he’s not here, it’s really tough.”

“I bet.”

“And did I tell you he’s taking French lessons? He said it’s so he can communicate with one of his new clients.” She looked down and swallowed a lump building in her throat. She blinked back tears just as her oldest son, Will, came running across the yard.

“Mommy! Did you see me! I made it all the way across the monkey bars without letting go. I did it!” he said.

She forced a smiled. “Darn it! I missed it,” she said with a shaky voice. “Show me again, and I’ll keep my eyes on you the whole time. Make sure your brother isn’t eating the mulch, ok?” He nodded his head and ran back off. She looked out in his direction but with vacant eyes.

“Sarah, he’s got a lot going on and marriages have ups and downs. Remember the fights Mom and Dad had when we were growing up. Dad bought a motorcycle during his mid-life crisis. Mom practically lost her mind every time he drove off on it. But, when he came to his senses a year later, he sold the bike and normal life resumed. I’m sure it’s the same thing—just a little rough patch. Give it some time and I’m sure it’ll blow over.”

“I hope you’re right,” she whispered. “I’m hoping we can talk tonight when he comes home.” A ding came from her pocket. She reached in and grabbed her phone. When she read the screen, her eyes filled with tears again.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“He said he’s not coming home tonight.”





Chapter Two


Two years later…



I’ve always had a pretty concrete vision of what I wanted. My dad always said I was as determined as an ant building an ant hill, even back in the days when I colored with crayons and climbed trees. I’d work and work until my picture was perfect, and I’d climb and climb until I reached the top of the tallest tree; I never stopped until I thought I’d achieved the best result. And somewhere early on, I decided I wanted to be a lawyer. Maybe it was from watching early episodes of L.A. Law with my mom when I was little, and the seed was planted, but, as far back as I can remember, that was what I always wanted to be. My plan was to become a lawyer, get married and, when the time came, add a couple of children to the equation.

At twenty eight, my ducks were in a row. I graduated law school at the top of my class, passed the bar on my first try, and landed my job at the prestigious family law firm of Alexander, Richards, and Williams in downtown Cincinnati. After meeting John, I moved in with him after only a few months of dating. Life was grand, and I hoped a marriage proposal was right around the corner.

In the bathroom, I finished washing my face and was patting my skin dry. I called to John. “You coming to bed?”

“Yeah…in a sec. I just want to catch the end of this game,” he said.

“Come back here and join me. I want to lay with you for a little before I fall asleep.” I took my long chestnut hair down and fluffed it then pinched my cheeks for a touch of natural rouge. I leaned into the mirror and swiped the remnants of my black mascara out from under my eyes. Slipping between the sheets, almost naked, I heard him huff in the next room then toss the remote on the side table next to the couch. When he walked through the door, he went past me and straight back to the bathroom. I waited patiently, knowing the surprise that I had waiting for him. He was normally the aggressor in our relationship, and I rarely initiated sex, but I needed him tonight.

I’d had a tough day because my sister Sarah had had a tough day. Sadly, a little over a year ago, Sarah caught Anders on the phone with another woman, and it confirmed her suspicions. As the story unfolded, she learned that Anders had cheated during their entire relationship with numerous women. She was completely devastated, and was having a difficult time getting herself and her kids through the break-up. She briefly tried to salvage her marriage but eventually, when she saw it was hopeless, filed for divorce. Since then, a river of problems had rushed her way.

Although I was happy to help Sarah in any way I could, starting my career and listening to her troubles wore on me. John listened to some of my stories, but he said he couldn’t relate to the problem. And, somehow whenever I did share something with him, I always felt worse about it afterward. Knowing the right thing to say when I was in need wasn’t one of his strong suits.