So Long, Chester Wheeler(51)

“I know from personal experience that when somebody does you wrong, you can make yourself nuts going over and over it in your head. And I’m not just referring to you when I say I’ve experienced that. It feels like the problem is that you know they did you wrong, but you can’t get that confirmed outside your own mind. So you just keep making the case over and over again in your head. It can make you feel like you’re cracking up after a while.

“So I’m going to validate your experience right now, for what that’s worth.

“What I did to you was wrong. I couldn’t help falling in love with somebody else, so I’m not really apologizing for it, but there’s a right and a wrong way to handle a thing like that, and I handled it exactly wrong. I should have told you right up front, before anything happened, that the marriage wasn’t working for me and I needed us to be apart. And there’s really no excuse for my not doing that. It’s just a scary conversation to have, and every time you think about having it, this little voice in your head says you can do it tomorrow. But I never did, and you had to find out the hard way on your own, and for that I sincerely apologize. It was pure cowardice on my part, and I hurt you by being a coward, and I’m sorry.”

She paused, and glanced up at me, and I offered a deeply approving nod.

Then she looked back down at her letter again and I thought, Wow. This was worth the wait.

“As for the kids and trying to have any kind of amicable split, I didn’t know how to deal with your rage, but that sounds like an excuse, and I’m trying not to make excuses. I was afraid of you. But again, if I could have been braver, I’d have saved you a lot of pain.

“It probably doesn’t help to say it, but I do think I learned a lesson from all those mistakes. Nowadays I’m almost too brave and too outspoken for my own good, but of course that came too late to help your situation.

“I understand that you’re reaching the end of your life, so I forgive you for all the small hurts, and I hope you can forgive me for the big one. I don’t insist that you do, though. I offer you my forgiveness before you die whether I get any back or not, because it’s my last chance, and if I decide I want to do it later, then that’s probably going to be too late.”

She looked up, but not directly at Chester and not directly at me. Her face looked, more than anything else, profoundly embarrassed.

She indicated the paper by holding it up and waving it.

“And then it says on here, ‘Sincerely, Your ex, Susan.’ But I guess I don’t need to read that part, because you’re sitting right there in front of me and you can see me with your own eyes. It’s not like you don’t know who the letter was from.”

She fell silent, and the moment grew very still and very long. I didn’t speak, because it wasn’t my place to do so. Chester didn’t speak, presumably because he’d been firmly instructed not to.

He was wringing his hands, looking down at them the whole time, as though it was an activity that required intense concentration.

“I’ll go,” Sue said.

And she jumped up.

“I’ll walk you out.”

Which was a silly thing to say to someone when the door is less than three steps away from any conceivable direction.

We stepped down onto the dark sidewalk together, and I closed the door behind us. The air was still surprisingly warm.

“You think that was okay?” she asked me.

“I think you did great.”

“Thanks. I like this non-judgy side of you better.”

“But it’s not non-judgy at all. I just judged your performance and decided you did great. Isn’t it funny how we never object to that kind of judgment?”

“Humans, am I right? It wasn’t the reaction I expected from him.”

“In what way?”

“He didn’t say anything.”

“Is that a joke?”

“No. Why would it be a joke?”

“You specifically told me to tell him that under no circumstances was he to say a word.”

“Oh, that’s right,” she said. “I did, didn’t I?”

She held a small scrap of paper out to me in the dark.

“What’s this?”

“Mike’s address in Venice Beach.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

I took it from her and stashed it in my shirt pocket.

“You going there?”

“I don’t know. I actually haven’t broached the subject with him yet.”

“But you will. Broach it. Right?”

“Yes. I will. And if he wants to go, we’ll go, and if he doesn’t want to go, we won’t. But do me a favor and don’t call Mike and warn him, okay? Let us ambush him like we did to you. It’s so much more fun that way.”

“Yeah. Fun. Big fun. Okay. You’ll sleep and drive in the morning, right?”

“I think that’s best.”

“Maybe call me when you get home. Let me know everything’s okay.”

“I don’t have your number.”

“Give me your phone.”

I slipped it out of my pocket and handed it to her, and she keyed her information in and handed it back.

“There. Now you have it. Drive safe.”

Then she walked up her path and disappeared into the house.