149 comments/ 146747 views/ 113 favorites Fair-Weather Friends By: radk To the reader: There isn't any sex in this story so if that's all you want then this isn't going to be for you. But if you enjoy a story about the ending of one life and the beginning of another then read on. Thanks to jo for editing. Any errors are mine and not because of poor editing. © Copyright March 2013, by the author. ******** Fair-weather friend -- A friend who is only a friend when circumstances are pleasant or profitable. A friend who is only around when they need you. A friend who only sticks by you when things are going well. At the first sign of trouble, these capricious, disloyal friends will drop their relationship with you. ******** I had a visit from my daughter today. It wasn't pleasant for either of us and I don't think she left happy. Oh, she was all nice and friendly and amiable, but it's been too long and the wound too deep for me to return any of her affection without considerable thought and soul searching. She said what she wanted to say and left without getting what she came for. What she wanted was me back in her life. I told her I'd think about it. And when she left I cried. Megan is a grown woman with children of her own but at the same time she's the little girl that I bounced on my knee when she was three. She's intelligent, articulate, attractive, and from what her sister says a good wife and mother. I have to believe she is because she's the image of her mother. She even has her mother's stubborn streak. She's everything a parent could dream of. So if she's so wonderful then why haven't I spoken a single word to her, before today, for five years? It started with something her mother did. I remember the last words I spoke to Megan like it was yesterday. It was five years ago at her mother's funeral and after one of the most emotional days of my life. I walked up to Megan at the grave site and told her, with all the bile I could muster, that she was just as dead to me as the woman we just laid in the ground. Then I put my index finger in my son Stuart's face and said the same thing to him. Scanning the crowd of shocked onlookers, I scowled at each one with an expression that made it extremely clear that my words included them too. The stunned reaction of my family and friends, along with their bug-eyed expressions, will burn deeply in my soul for the rest of my days. It was that pain that I will take to my grave: A pain born of the destruction of our family, the death of their mother, and the loss of their father. I walked away from everything that day, arm in arm with my youngest daughter Faye. ******** I loved Connie almost from the first moment we met. It was as though we had been together all of our lives. We've loved and had been in love from that moment on. God must have used us as the model for perfect matches because we were like apple pie and vanilla ice cream, great separately but absolutely the best together. Even before we said our vows we were so much of a twosome that everybody said we were 'old married folks' already. That was way back in high school. We married after college and just celebrated our 25th anniversary. Then things happened that to this day I still can't fully explain. Our 25th wedding anniversary was a gigantic affair. It was a beautiful sunny June day and all of our family and friends were there to celebrate with us. My father was in his wheelchair and sat at the head table with Connie's mother and father and all three of our children. Every friend and neighbor congratulated us and showered us with more gifts than we could ever use. Even the town mayor stopped by to give us a little gift from him and our friends on the town council; a plaque declaring June 14th as Connie and Marc Jenkins Day. There were over 200 people under that large circus tent, laughing, eating, and dancing late into the night. When it came time to reaffirm our vows I don't think there was a dry eye anywhere. I know for certain that Connie's and mine weren't. But I didn't see anyone else's. I didn't see our children standing beside us at the altar, I didn't see our families holding hands in the front row, and I certainly didn't see our Golden Retriever, Beau, curled up at the feet of the preacher. I didn't see anything but Connie, the woman who completed me, the woman I loved and have always loved, and the woman I planned to spend the rest of my life showing just how much I did. Our oldest daughter Megan had gotten married a month before our little fete and had just returned from her honeymoon a week earlier. Stuart had just finished his sophomore year at University and our youngest Faye her freshman. It was good to have everyone back at home again. I would never say this out loud but I missed the noise and the pandemonium of the kids at home. I think Connie did too. For a little while at least we were a family again. A few days after our anniversary party I was returning all of the chairs and tables and other party equipment to the rental place when I had a little fender-bender with my truck in the parking lot. I turned the corner a bit too sharply and mangled the headlight of a nice new Lexus. The police officer who took the accident report was one of the kids that grew up with Stuart and had played on many of his sports teams. Greg was no longer a kid though; he was taller than me now and with his uniform carried an air of authority that made him even taller. I watched him mature and was as proud of him as I was of my own children. After our business was finished we just stood around and talked about nothing. The end of the conversation planted a seed that grew like a weed in my fertile mind. "Well Mr. Jenkins," Greg said holding out his hand to shake mine. "I've got to get back to the station. It was really nice to see you again and I'm sorry I couldn't make it to your anniversary party. My parents told me I missed a really good time." I shook the hand of the man that I watched try to steal second base in nine and under baseball. He always got thrown out, but grew into a man that I was proud to call friend. "Oh, and tell Mrs. Jenkins to be careful and stop at stop signs from now on," he said with a mischievous little smile. "I'll have to give her more than a warning ticket next time." I'm sure my confused expression told the tale. "Oh crap, I didn't mean to say something out of turn." Now he looked embarrassed. I picked up on his discomfort right away and tried to help him out a bit. At the same time I was trying to figure out what he was saying. "That's all right Greg. Connie doesn't always tell me when she gets a ticket. She thinks I'll get mad at her and take away her driving privileges. I won't, but I let her think that. Now, so I can have the upper hand at dinner tonight what did you cite her for? I may want to tease her a little about it, that's all." "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything, I don't want to get anybody in trouble. It was nothing really." My smile got bigger and I pleaded, "No, nobody's in trouble. Just a little friendly teasing, that's all. Now what happened?" "It was a couple weeks ago, Saturday the 31st I think, your wife turned coming out of the Holiday Inn parking lot up on route 40 without stopping at the stop sign. She didn't hit anybody or interfere with traffic but she sped away so quickly that I had to stop her and tell her to slow down. I should have given her a citation for missing the stop sign but there was no harm done so she got a warning. It was no big deal." "Yeah, no problem Greg, you did the right thing. I'll make sure to tell her to watch her driving and get in a little jab at the same time. Thanks, it was nice seeing you again." I unloaded the chairs and tables and afterwards sat in the truck thinking about the little conversation with Greg. Two weeks ago, on the 31st to be exact, I was at my father's house for the weekend helping with some chores that he's no longer capable of doing by himself. It was also two weeks after Megan's wedding. I remember that day taking Dad to an adult living facility to look around and see if he was interested in finally getting rid of the old house and moving into something smaller. He wasn't, and I knew that he wasn't going to be, but I had to try. I spent all day Saturday with him and returned home around nine Sunday night. I didn't notice anything strange and Connie didn't mention anything about the ticket she got from Greg. She said she spent a quiet day at home catching up on some reading. I thought that Greg must have remembered things wrong because Connie would never lie to me. So I filed it in my mind under strange and unexplained. About a month after the anniversary bash my sister called and said she found my father on the floor of his kitchen when she came for her bi-weekly visit. He had fallen that morning and couldn't get back into his wheelchair on his own. She said that he wasn't injured, just embarrassed. I immediately made plans to go and stay with him on Saturday and try to convince him that moving to a smaller place where people could be around to help him would be in his best interest. Maybe he would be scared enough to listen this time - probably not. He's a hard-headed old cuss. Since Stuart and Faye were now home for the summer I asked, no I kind of coerced them into coming with me. I played the guilt card. "You guys haven't seen Grandpa in a long time and he won't be around forever." They agreed to go. Connie said that she would enjoy a day of quiet and was looking forward to finishing her book. During the hour long drive Stuart told me about a girl he met in his Philosophy 101 class that he liked a lot and Faye said that she was going to finish college without the hassle of a boyfriend. "There's plenty of time after school to hook up with a guy." We had a pleasant discussion of the merits of both positions which inevitably led to my telling, probably for the hundredth time, about how their mother and I met and became a couple. My father was more excited than I had seen him in a long time when the kids hugged him and sat down to listen to his old, often repeated stories. We had brunch and talked and just generally enjoyed the morning. Around noon he fell asleep in his chair and we all wandered away to let him rest. "Hey, you guys stay here and watch Grandpa; I'll be back in a bit, I what to go get something to take down that old, dead tree in the backyard before it falls on the house." Stuart and Faye went into the living room and watched TV while at the same time keeping an eye on their grandfather. My intention was to drive home and get my chainsaw, ropes, and everything necessary to take down a tree. I don't know why I turned when I did but I took the interstate exit onto route 40. At the bottom of the hill I could see the entrance to the Holiday Inn across the way and again, without thinking why I was doing it, I turned into the motel parking lot. When I stopped and looked around I could see the stop sign at the bottom of the hill that Connie ran and how easy it would be for anybody to miss, even me. I drove around the parking lot to leave when I saw something that shouldn't have been there - Connie's car. I stopped and looked to be sure I wasn't seeing things. I know that there are a lot of silver Toyota Camrys out there but only one has her special license plate - CONWOMN. I got out and looked inside and saw nothing out of the ordinary. The doors were locked. I couldn't think of any legitimate reason why she would be at the Holiday Inn since she told me she wanted to curl up with a good book so I thought I'd better check to see if she knew where her car was. I called home and got the answering machine. When I called her cell phone she answered. "Hi honey, what's up?" She sounded all cheerful and happy. I don't know why I lied because it wasn't something I've ever done before, but I did. "Oh, nothing. I was out picking up some stuff at the grocery store for Dad and thought I'd give you a call. I called home and since you didn't answer I thought I try your cell. Where are you?" "I'm at the mall. I finished my book and thought I'd do a little shopping. You don't mind do you?" Wow, she just lied to me; well at least I think she did. "No, just don't spend the kid's college money. What time are you going to be home?" "Probably around six. Do you want me to make dinner?" "No, I don't think I'll be hungry, I'm starting to not feel too good. I may just stay at Dad's tonight and send the kids home. I'll let you know." "Well okay, just call me when you decide," she said sounding sad. "Oh, did you drive to the mall or did you go with someone?" I asked hoping not to hear another lie. "I drove. I'm by myself. I just got here a few minutes ago. Why?" "Just wondering. Well, I've got to go. You have a good time and don't let Greg catch you missing that stop sign at the Holiday Inn when you leave today. Bye." I hung up and waited. I didn't know what I expected to happen but it certainly wasn't what did. I heard a muffled scream coming from the direction of the hotel. I looked around I didn't see anything, especially the source of the scream. I sat on the hood of Connie's Camry and scanned the area. A few minutes later a police car drove up and out stepped Greg. "Hi Mr. Jenkins. Did you call 911?" "Uh no Greg, I didn't." "Well someone called and said that someone was breaking into a car in the lot. I'd better go inside and talk to the manager." "Greg, can you do me a favor?" "Sure Mr. Jenkins, anything." "When you go inside can you ask if Mrs. Jenkins is in there and who she's with? I'll be right here." "Uh, okay, wait... Oh... Oh shit! I'm sorry Mr. Jenkins; I'll be back in a bit. I'll find out what's going on and come back and talk to you. I'm really sorry." He got back in his cruiser and drove over to the entrance. I waited and waited with nothing happening. Finally, off in the distance, I heard the wail of a siren. It got closer and closer and finally ended as it pulled up to the entrance to the motel. The attendants got out and in a few minutes loaded someone in the back and drove away. Greg came out and drove over and walked up to me with the saddest expression I've ever seen. "I'm sorry Mr. Jenkins. There was a bit of a problem inside. The ambulance transported your wife to County Hospital. It appears she tried to run through a sliding glass door. Now, the door didn't shatter but she's badly bruised, there's a cut over one eye, and she's quite hysterical. The, uh, gentleman that was with her left when the ambulance drove away. I have his name and address and his statement of what happened. I'm sorry I can't give you any of that information but you can come down to the station tomorrow and fill out a Freedom of Information Act form and get it. Again, I'm really sorry this happened. I've always thought of you and Mrs. Jenkins as family." He extended his hand to shake mine but all I could do was stare at it. The tears didn't start until after he drove away. I don't know how I did it but I drove back to Dad's house and stood in the driveway not knowing which way to turn. Faye sensed that something was wrong when she saw me standing there and came running out. She asked "What's wrong" but I was too numb to talk. She started getting louder and louder until I broke down and cried in front of her. I have never cried in front of my kids. She started crying too when she saw her father disintegrate right in front of her. When Stuart came out I told them through the tears that their mother was in the hospital and that they needed to go help her. I didn't say anything more or tell them what I had just gone through but within a few seconds they were in the car and ready to go. I tossed the keys to Stuart and said I wasn't going. "I'll stay here tonight." They looked at me like I was a three-headed snake but drove away anyway. I made sure that Dad was okay before collapsing onto the couch, feeling my heart beating out of my chest. I just stared at the floor and cried. Dad rolled out and sat beside me. "What's wrong Marc? What's bothering you?" I've never been able to talk about intimate things with my father. He's an old school dad and always kept his emotions bottled up and under control and I guess I was a lot like him. Whenever I had a problem growing up he would just say "Act like a man and everything will be all right." I half expected the same advice this time so I didn't say anything. But he did. "Let me tell you a little story about your mother and me, something I've never told you or your sister or anyone else for that matter. Just after you were born I got into trouble with the law. I stole something from work. Your mother wanted this fancy red dress and I didn't have any money to buy it for her so I stole a tool and sold it. I got caught. In the end I paid the company back but they fired me anyway and then turned me over to the police. The authorities put me on probation for a year. That was the easy part. Your mother was angrier at me than at any time in her life. She was probably more disappointed in me for what I did. It hurt our marriage, a lot. She was cold toward me for a long time. One day she came home and told me that she may have found me a new job next door to where she worked and I could go down there and interview in the morning. Then she put her arms around me and looked me straight in the eye and said that she forgave me. Son, she forgave me for almost wrecking our marriage. She put aside her pride and let me back into her heart. From that day until the day she died I never did anything that she wasn't proud of. I was a better man because your mother loved me. Sure she was hurt for a while but she was a better person than me and we got past it. Now Marc, I don't know what happened but you seem to be in the same boat I was. Maybe you need forgiveness and maybe you need to forgive like your Mom did, but then maybe whatever happened can't be forgiven. Whatever the problem is I know in my heart that you will do the right thing, and the smart thing. I just hope to God that everything works out okay for you. I may not have told you this too often but I'm very proud of the man you've grown up to be and I love you very much." He put his old arthritic hand on mine and bowed his head in a silent prayer. When he finished he quietly turned and rolled into his bedroom. I stayed on the couch as the sun passed below the horizon. During the night the phone rang, but I didn't answer it. The same thing happened with my cell phone. I heard them because I was awake all night. I just lay curled up in a ball on my father's drab, old sofa listening to the crickets outside the window. ******** Morning is supposed to be a new start: Yesterday's gone and today's a new day. But I still felt like I was on the edge of an abyss. After making breakfast for Dad, I went out in the backyard by myself and moped. Around noon I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Hey Dad, are you okay?" Faye said looking down with tired, red eyes. I just shook my head 'no.' Faye sat next to me and put her arms around my neck, hugging me like she was three years old again. She was also crying. We sat like that until it was time to talk. I didn't want to say anything because I wasn't sure I could without breaking up so I let Faye start. "Dad, Mom's okay. She has a concussion, four stitches over one eye, a broken nose, and some assorted bruises, but she'll be okay, physically. Emotionally she's a train wreck. The doctor gave her something to help her relax and sleep but she wakes up screaming your name and it starts all over again. Megan showed up at the hospital so we were all there for her. All Mom did was ask why you weren't there and cried. Dad, she told us what happened and she told us what she did. You probably already know everything so I won't repeat what she said. I want you to know I ripped her a new one. I told her that it was the worst thing anybody could ever do to another person, especially someone they said they loved. I said I hated her. She..." Fair-Weather Friends "Now wait a minute little girl," I interrupted angrily. "Never say that you hate your mother. She loves you and you love her. She did something wrong and I've got to figure out what to do about it." "Dad, she cheated on you! She lied to you and to us. She doesn't deserve our love." "What she did doesn't matter, she's your mother." "Yeah, she's my mother but she's also your wife. Do you still love her after what she did?" I was silent for a long time as I tried to wrap my mind around my new world. "I don't know, I'm still in shock. I need to get my emotions and thoughts under control before I say or do anything. Right now I can't think because my heart hurts so much. I don't know what to do." "Dad, I'll always be here for you. Whatever you decide to do I'll support you. I may not agree with your decision but I'll be right beside you. I love you, Dad." We hugged and cried and finally sat back to watch a hummingbird flit back and forth between the hollyhocks and an old oak tree, each of us lost in our own thoughts. ******** I spent the weekend with Dad and talked to Megan and Stuart on the phone. I refused to talk to Connie when they asked. I wasn't ready for her to see me, or hear me talk in the state I was in. When Monday morning came I called into work and told my boss that I had a family problem and needed a couple days off. I spent the next three days sitting in the backyard wallowing in my sorrows. Faye never left my side. I think she was worried about what I would do. I was sitting in the backyard thinking about the good times Connie and I had over the last 25 years. Everything wasn't perfect like in any marriage but the good times far outweighed the bad. I didn't have the details of what she did, actually I think my children knew more than I did, but I did know one thing for sure and that was I couldn't take knowing any more. Knowing the little I did was hard enough but hearing a blow by blow description would absolutely kill me. The lunch that Faye brought me sat uneaten on the table next to the roll of paper towels I used to wipe away my tears. It had been two days since my world turned upside down but I wasn't thinking any clearer now than yesterday or the day before. "Hi Marc," the familiar voice burst my thought bubble and started the whirlwind of emotions going again. Without turning I mumbled, "Hi Connie." I waited without moving and watched as she pulled a chair up in front of me. I didn't know what I looked like but if I looked half as bad as she did then my next stop would be the mortuary. "I'm sorry Marc," she said looking down at her hands. They've always been beautiful and strong hands, just like the rest of her, but now one stood discolored with a large bruise and the other had a large band-aid across the back. As I looked up into her face for the first time I saw the hideous bandage crisscrossing the middle of her face, holding the broken bones of her nose together. The large gauze bandage over one eye concealed the eyebrow and the stitches underneath. Surrounding the other eye was a hideous black and orange bruise. She looked like, what was the term Faye used, a train wreck. She used to be so beautiful and now she's so ugly. I don't know how much of my opinion of her looks was because of my broken heart or if she really was ugly. "Marc, I came here to apologize. I know saying I'm sorry isn't enough to fix things but it's all I've got. Megan drove me here because I'm still too upset to drive. I needed to see you, talk to you, and for you to understand what I did, what I did to you, to us. Marc, I screwed up, me not you, me. You didn't do anything wrong. You didn't deserve any of this. For as much as I hurt you I feel the same pain, if not more, because I was the one that did this. The pain was self-inflicted and may have destroyed something that means more to me than life itself. Marc, I want to tell you what happened and maybe..." "No, I don't want to hear anything from you. What I know now is tearing me up inside. If I hear any more then you would certainly kill me. Just don't say anything, please." "But Marc, if you know what happened then maybe there is a chance that you'd forgive me. Marc, I don't want to lose you, I love you, and you need to understand why I was weak and did what I did. It started..." "NO! DAMMIT I SAID I DIDN'T WANT TO HEAR!" "But Marc, you've got to listen. It's the only way I can, no we can get past this, the only way we can heal and become a family again. Please Marc, just listen..." "I SAID NO!" I got up and walked away leaving her sobbing into her black and blue hands. "Dad, please listen to her," Megan said coming up to me as I walked toward the kitchen. "She needs you to listen and forgive her. She needs to tell you what she did and apologize so you can get past all this." I turned and glared at my oldest daughter and spit out the words that started me on the path that ultimately would lead to my destruction. "Megan, if you think that listening to her story is going to make things all right between us then you are even more deluded than she is. If she needs to ease her conscience so badly then she can write it down in a letter and send it to me. I'm not going to sit here and listen to her bullshit excuses why she threw away a 25 year marriage and destroyed me in the process. I can't be around her. Right now I don't have it in me to forgive her." I got in my car and sped away not knowing where I was going or when, or if, I would be back. I didn't cry as much as I drove because most of my tears were on the blocks of Dad's patio. Right now I just needed to get away and think. ******** When I came back to Dad's the next day Faye greeted me at the door with a smile and a hug. I needed that smile more than anything in the world at that moment. It told me that in all the misery of the world someone could still be happy. It gave me hope that maybe someday I could smile again. What it didn't tell me was if what I decided to do would make anybody else smile. Dad was happy to see me too. As we sat down to dinner I told my father and my daughter my future. "Dad, I've decided to move in here with you for a while. I need to be away from things and you need me to help with the cooking and cleaning. And trust me Dad; I've tasted enough of your cooking to know that you need someone to cook for you who knows how to do more than fry bacon and eggs. Faye, can you help me get some things from home? I can't go there while your mother's there and I need some things for work and here. You can tell everyone that I'll be living here until I figure out a more permanent solution. For now just say your mother and I have separated. Don't go into details, just leave it at that." "Okay Dad. I'll go back tonight and get what you want. Just make me a list. Do you want me to say anything to Mom?" "Just tell her I'll be living here and not to call me. When I'm ready I'll call her." I gave her my list and spent the evening talking to Dad about our new living arrangements. I could see by the expression on his face that he was pleased to have me back home but distressed as to the reason. He never mentioned Connie or the events of the last few days. We even did something we haven't done in years, we played checkers. He won of course. When Faye returned with my stuff I was surprised to see the car so full. "I brought my stuff too," she said firmly. "I'll take the guest bedroom and be here until school starts again." She had a firm, hard expression on her face as she helped unload our belongings. Later on that night I asked her what happened. Faye's face twisted up as she started talking. "Can you believe that sister of mine? She actually said that you were acting childish and that you should come home and make up to Mom. And Stuart was just as bad. In effect, he said that everyone cheats on the one they love at some time or another in their lives. It's no big deal, he said. He said you should just forgive Mom and go out and get your own girlfriend on the side. Can you believe those two? Assholes!" "Now Faye..." "Dad, I'm not in the mood to hear it. You didn't do anything wrong and here you sit in Grandpa's house and everybody thinks you're the bad guy. Mom's the one who screwed up. She doesn't deserve to be forgiven. That's one of the reasons I'm here. Those three think that you're wrong for not crawling back and apologizing. I couldn't live with all that and put my stuff in the car when I got yours." Faye was steaming. I knew there was no way that she could be convinced otherwise once she had set her mind on something so I just sat quietly and let her anger burn out. ******** For the next two months I tried to make my life as normal as I could. I went to work every day, I helped out around the house, and even taught Faye how to make a mean vegetable lasagna. Every couple days I would get a phone call from either Megan or Stuart asking when I was coming home. In my mind's eye I could see Connie standing behind them listening for my answer. I told them that I was home with Dad and that I didn't want to talk to Connie or hear anything about her. Once or twice they tried to say something anyway but I just hung up on them. One day Stuart showed up at the door and said he had to tell me something important. We went out back and sat on the patio so he could say what he had to say. "Dad, you need to come back home now. It's been two months and Mom's worse now than ever. I need to go back to school in a couple weeks and I can't leave Megan to be the only one taking care of Mom. There's no telling what she might do when one of us isn't there with her. She cries all the time, she doesn't sleep, and she doesn't eat. She's lost a lot of weight. Some of your friends have come to visit and they're just as worried as we are. She doesn't do anything but sit at home and mope. We've tried to get her to go out to eat or shopping but she just starts crying again. Dad, I think you've punished her enough. You need to get over your little snit and come home. She's sorry, you're hurt, she's hurt, now get over it and come home." I just sat there looking at my son. This is the man that I coached at baseball and soccer and helped get his Eagle Scout badge in Boy Scouts. But he's changed. He's no longer the son that made me proud with his grades and life choices. His values have shifted somewhere along the line. He thinks that what his mother did is okay, and if it's okay for her then it will set the precedent that says it's okay for him too. I've always told my children that promises were very important and had to be taken seriously. I've always tried to instill good moral values in him, both by word and by example. No, I think Stuart was now nuttier than a fruit cake. "Stuart, you're a man now so I can say what I'm about to say to you, man to man. Get the fuck out of my house! How dare you come here and accuse me of being immature. I wasn't the one who screwed up. If you support what your mother did then you've changed, and not for the better. So go home and take care of your mother. I'll be here until I decide to not be. Now get out of here before I throw your ass out." I got up and went inside. A few minutes later I heard his car drive off. ******** Faye went back to school the last week of August. I didn't hear from Megan or Stuart so I assumed that Stuart went back to school and Megan was shuttling back and forth between her new husband and Connie. They didn't call to say anything to me. It was now just Dad and me. In the middle of September I got a letter from Connie. I started to read it but had to put it back in the envelope and hide it in my dresser. My emotions were too raw. I told Megan that if Connie wanted to assuage her conscience then she should put everything in a letter and send it to me. Now that I had it I couldn't read it. The wound was still open. Instead I stuck my head in the sand and went on with my life, what there was of it. Faye called every couple days to check on my, and of course Dad's, well being. She said that she had talked to Megan and Stuart and they were doing the same thing for their mother. She was planning to come to visit for my birthday at the end of October and was hoping that I had made a decision on the future of things. Sitting in limbo wasn't doing anyone any good. I told her that we would talk when I had made a decision. On October 30th I turned 50, quite a milestone in any person's life. Faye showed up in the morning and said she had plans to take me and Dad out for a great big Italian dinner. She wanted to show me what real lasagna tasted like. I smiled at her little jab at my cooking. I'm sure that smile was the first one in months. We got back from the restaurant late and I wheeled Dad into his bedroom and made sure he was comfortably in bed before coming back out to Faye. I handed her a beer and we sat in the living room talking. "So Dad, can you tell me what you've decided?" Faye never believed in taking the indirect approach. Beginning with a heavy sigh I started. "I've decided that I don't know everything, including why she did what she did, but my being obstinate and not talking to her isn't going to get anything resolved. I finally got around to reading her letter and I'm not sure I believe everything she wrote. It may be the truth but I don't see how anyone could have been that stupid. And since it went on for as long as it did I feel that reconciliation is highly improbable. But I plan to sit down with her and talk things out. Maybe we can talk through our problems but then maybe not. I've at least got to give her a chance to say what she wants to say and for her to hear how I feel. If I still don't believe her then there isn't any recourse but to file for divorce. I've been just as miserable without her as you say she's been without me. Well, I'm going to do whatever it takes to move forward, whatever forward is for us. As much as it will hurt me I'm going to get with her and start figuring out where we stand. Tomorrow I'll call her and..." Faye's cell phone interrupted my planned speech. I wasn't finished yet but I let her answer it anyway. "It's Megan," she said looking down at the phone's display. "I'll take it outside." She got up and walked out into the cold night. Five minutes later she came in with the biggest saucer shaped eyes and ghost-like pallor I'd ever seen. She looked at me, the floor, the picture over the mantle, her cell phone, and then flung herself in my arms sobbing uncontrollably. She cried into my shoulder as I held her tightly, waiting for whatever caused her turmoil to pass. Minutes later she pulled back and sniffed away the tears, wiped her eyes on her sleeve, and looked me right in the eyes as she said. "Dad, Mom's dead. Megan came home tonight and found her in the bathtub. It looks like she swallowed the bottle of pills the doctor gave her to help her sleep. Megan didn't tell me anything else." Everything in the world ceased to exist. I heard what she said but my mind wasn't working. Death didn't register. I couldn't understand. I couldn't see or hear or feel. Connie was dead? I... I... ******** Making the arrangements to bury the only woman I'd ever loved, the woman that meant more to me than anything for the last 25 years, the mother of my children, yet the woman who had a lover behind my back, was a Herculean task. Whenever I was with my children I tried to appear stoic and in control, but they all knew I was barely holding it together. At night I sat in the backyard of my house and looked at the swing set that hadn't been used in 15 years and thought about Megan, Stuart, and Faye growing up and running around like a pack of wild animals, chased by their mother. I looked at the azalea bushes Connie and I planted after moving in and thought about the good times, the cook outs, the gathering of friends, and the times we made love under the stars. Just knowing that she was in my life made me feel warm and comfortable, now I felt cold and alone. I also needed to sort out a lot of unresolved feelings. The biggest unresolved issue was the extent of my responsibility for Connie's ingesting those sleeping pills. I didn't put them in her hand and force her swallow them but I sure as hell helped to create her depressed emotional state by refusing to talk to her. I was hurt and wanted her to hurt too. I loved her so much and she did probably the one thing in our marriage that could have destroyed me the quickest, once I found out. She was my wife, my love, and I loved her more than anything else in the world. Giving herself to someone else destroyed me. And now I may have destroyed her. I never wanted her to die; I just wanted her to feel what I was feeling. Maybe she did and couldn't live with herself, now I'll never know for sure. All I know for sure is that she did something wrong and destroyed our marriage and I did something equally as wrong and destroyed her. We were both wrong. May God have mercy on our souls. Tomorrow would be Connie's funeral and the last time I'd ever see her. I had to keep my emotions in check. I had to see the faces of all our friends and family. I had to say goodbye. I had to not break down. I turned when I heard the front door slam and seconds later a car roaring off down the street. Megan was walking toward me from the back door. "Dad? Are you okay?" Megan whispered as she sat in the lawn chair across from me. "No, not really. " We sat quietly gathering our thoughts listening to the rustling of the fallen leaves in the night breeze. Megan looked over at me and said, "You know that all this wouldn't have happened if you had just come home and forgiven her. She made a mistake. I'm sure you made mistakes that she forgave you for. She said she couldn't go on living without you. It was your pride that killed her." I just sat there with my mouth open. My own daughter blamed me for my wife's death. I don't know how many times I said it or thought it but I didn't do anything wrong. I wasn't the one having the affair. I didn't lie to my friends and family for six months. I didn't swallow a bottle of sleeping pills to ease my guilt. "And Dad tomorrow is going to be a long, hard day. Everybody's invited to the house afterwards and there will probably be a lot of people here. You don't have to do a thing, you don't even have to be here if you don't want. Stuart and some of Mom's friends are going to help me with the food and stuff so there won't be anything for you to worry about." Now Megan didn't even want me to come to the after funeral gathering? What the hell's going on? Maybe I was just so emotional and stressed out that I misunderstood what she was saying. One thing I was sure of and that was I didn't want to get into a confrontation with my daughter on the eve of her mother's funeral. I stood up and went into the house and down to the family room where I'd been sleeping. ******** I put all of my bedding in the laundry hamper and put on my suit and tie. The kids were all dressed and waiting in the living room when I got upstairs. My Dad looked tired. Faye came over and straightened my tie just like her mother had thousands of times before. I kissed her on the forehead and took her hand and went out to the waiting limousine. Faye held my hand the entire time. She didn't say a word to anyone or me but sat with her head down. When we got to the funeral home there were a lot of our friends milling around in the foyer. When the crowd saw us coming in, the throng parted and we walked toward the viewing room. All eyes were looking at me but as I passed our friends and neighbors I noticed something quite odd. I didn't see pity in the eyes of those looking at me; most wouldn't even make eye contact. Instead there was an expression of disdain, almost contempt on most of their faces. I nodded to a couple and they turned away to talk to someone else. As I passed my boss from work and his wife he held out his hand and shook mine telling me how very sorry he felt. Our friends standing on each side of him looked at him with the same strange, contemptuous expression they gave me. He was the only one to say anything to me. The kids were getting expressions of sympathy from those I'd already walked past. I didn't understand what was going on; after all I didn't have a lot of experience with funerals. The only one I was directly involved with was that of my mother and this was nothing like hers. Fair-Weather Friends Faye walked me up to the casket and we knelt down to pay our last respects. There was quiet, soothing organ music being piped through the sound system but I could still hear whispers from the crowd behind us. During my silent prayer I caught fragments of the whispered conversation. "...unforgiving bastard..." "...walked out on her, he..." "...he caused this..." "...hypocrite..." "...son-of-a-bitch killed her..." Faye took my hand and squeezed it. She must have heard the same words I had. The preacher's words were comforting. The hymn sung by Connie's longtime friend was poignant and sad. It wasn't the usual funeral hymn but a song that Connie loved. At the end she shook Megan and Stuart's hand and went to her seat. I thought it odd that she didn't say anything to me, or Faye. Several friends spoke to the gathering when the preacher asked if anybody had anything they wanted to say. Megan was the last to get up and she spoke of mercy and forgiveness and how Jesus forgave those that nailed Him to the cross and we should be as kind to those around us as He was. I'm not usually that dense but sitting right there listening to my daughter preach about forgiveness, I got it. I finally understood. The wind was cold and brisk when we arrived at the gravesite. Everyone sat in silence listening to the preacher's final words. At the end of the service the preacher handed each of us a red rose to place on the coffin as we departed. I went first followed by Faye, Megan and Stuart. An old work buddy of Dad's wheeled him past the coffin. It had been one of the most emotional days of my life. I held out my hand to stop Megan and Stuart before we left the gravesite. With all the bile I could muster I said what was boiling in my heart. "Megan, Stuart, I know what's been going on and I've made a decision. Because of what you did, because of the hatred you spread, and the moral position you took defending your mother and making me evil and villainous to all our friends and family, both of you are as dead to me as the woman we just put into the ground. Don't ever talk to me or come to my house, or in any way communicate with me. From now on I am no longer your father." I turned and glared at the gathering of what used to be my friends and said, "That goes for all of you too." They were in shock at the unabashed expression of my hostility. Without saying another word I took Faye's hand and we walked back to the limousine. I told the driver to drive away when my father and his wheelchair were in the car with us, leaving Megan and Stuart standing beside the road. The only people who came to the after funeral gathering were my boss and his wife and two old friends from down the street. That was all the friends I had left in the world, them and Faye of course. Megan and Stuart went to her house to commiserate. Faye told me later that everyone heard how I abandoned Connie after she made a small mistake and refused to talk to her or forgive her and pushed her into committing suicide. In other words, everybody knew that I killed my wife. ******** Faye went back to school leaving me alone and friendless. When she came back between semesters and at spring break it was like turning a light on in an otherwise dark and dreary room. Megan was with her husband and his family and Stuart went back to school. He made other arrangements when he was between semesters. The only thing that made any sense was for me to concentrate on my work and to try to put the pain of the past behind me. It wasn't easy. I would wake up in the middle of the night, two or three times a week, expecting Connie to be next to me in bed or with the horrible image of her and John Jablonski screwing in their room at the Holiday Inn. She told me in her letter that her lover was our old next door neighbor. He and his wife moved to the other side of town about two years ago. The son-of-a-bitch was even at our 25th wedding anniversary party. Time moved forward and the pain became easier to bear. Megan had a baby girl and named her Connie. A year later she had a little boy she named Chance, after her husband's father. I haven't seen my grandchildren. Stuart got married to the girl of his dreams he told me about from college. I received an invitation to their wedding but didn't attend. Two years later she filed for divorce. Evidentially he followed his mother's example and cheated on his own wife. He said that everyone cheats at one time or another and I guess that warped attitude led to his divorce. He moved to California and I haven't seen him since the funeral. I know all this because Faye slips little tidbits of information into the conversation whenever she can. She wants me to know because for as wrong as they were they're still my children. My boss at work was my best friend in the entire world. He helped me by being there when I needed to talk and looked the other way when I was too sick to work. He did tell me early on that he would give me one year to get my shit together or else he was going to have to replace me. That one little speech motivated me to become the best manager in the company, so good in fact that they offered me a senior manager's position in Florida four years after my new life started. Within three months I had my house sold, moved everything to a new, much smaller home in Orlando, and started managing the entire distribution facility for the eastern half of the United States. Oh, I didn't forget Beau. During all the turmoil he pretty much got pushed aside and forgotten about. When we moved to the new house I made it up to him by getting another younger Golden Retriever for him to harass. All three of us are happily ensconced in our new little home. I lost all of my friends back in Maryland. Only a couple people would even talk to me let alone invite me anywhere. Things were not the same and everybody, but a very few, turned away from me and left me alone. I was persona non grata and invisible to everyone. Faye graduated Summa Cum Laude and got a wonderful entry level management position in one of the major entertainment facilities in Florida. She said she was going to live with me until she found a place of her own. I hope it's not too soon. Dad died a year after Connie. ******** It's been five years since my world changed. I lost everything I held dear, all except for one thing, my daughter Faye. But even she's been looking to create a life for herself. I had to find my own or be destined to die a miserable old man with no one to love except my Golden Retrievers. Boy doesn't that sound pathetic? Let's face it, I needed something to do. A hobby I've always had was writing. I haven't done anything but write business reports in the last few years but as my job became routine and as I got older I started writing short stories again. I even sold a couple to a local literary magazine. One weekend while Faye was out on a date with her boyfriend I started an outline for what I thought was going to be another short story. It became the outline for a story about a particularly difficult part of my life and it ended up being a lot bigger than a short story. I thought long and hard about starting it because I knew that it would dredge up memories and emotions from the past that were better off lying dormant in the dark recesses of my mind. One evening I started writing. Four months later, working every evening after work, I had a completed first draft manuscript that I thought was pretty good. But I didn't want anybody to read my innermost secrets so I set it in a box and placed it on a shelf in my den. The catharsis was in the writing and I had faced the demons of my past and they were defeated. I found that I could start living again. I signed up for a creative writing class at the local community college hoping to enhance my writing skills. Mostly it contained 20-something kids who couldn't tell the difference between an adverb and an adjective. There were two other 'older' people like myself in the class so we banded together to show the youth of America, or at least the youth of Orange County Florida, what good writing was all about. Maurice was retired and looking to write a book about his family's part in the Civil War. Alicia was a widow who was working her way through the community college's course catalog to keep busy and to find something that she might be good at. She raised five children as a stay at home mom and when they were all gone she quietly retired and moved to Florida using the insurance money she got when her husband died as seed money for a new life. The more Alicia and I talked the more we found things in common. I learned early on in life to let my date talk and listen carefully to whatever they said because there was always a quiz later. I haven't dated for almost 30 years so I had to pay very careful attention to her. She talked and I took notes, mental notes that is. One day she realized that she'd been doing all the talking so she asked me where I came from and why I was alone in central Florida taking a community college course in writing. I gave her the 30 minute, thumbnail version and tried to turn the conversation back to her, but she wasn't going for it. She poked and prodded and questioned me until I finally told her that my story was difficult to tell and if she wanted to know about me then she had to come to my house for dinner next Saturday. She gave me the biggest and prettiest smile I've seen in quite a few years as she said "Yes, I'd love to."' "Dinner was lovely Marc," Alicia said as we walked out to the patio to enjoy the night air under one of my palm trees. "I don't know many men that can make vegetable lasagna at all and especially not as good as that one. What other surprises do you have up your sleeve?" "I think you know just about everything about me. I manage the distribution center for Folks Industries over in Eastside, my daughter Faye lives with me and kindly agreed to make herself scarce tonight, my wife died just over five years ago, I've got two other kids, and you met my two Golden's, Beau and Luke. That's me in a nutshell. I'm kind of boring anyway, nothing interesting to tell." "Well, you bribed me to come to dinner tonight by saying that if I wanted to know your story then you would tell me. Well? I'm waiting for all the gory details." Instead of saying anything I got up and went in the house. When I came back I was holding the box filled with my novel, the novel about the biggest events in my life. "One thing you don't know is that I've been writing for years and even sold a couple short stories to the local literary magazine. I've got a computer full of short stories, some based on my life and some that just popped out of my warped little brain. Before I signed up for the creative writing class I wrote something that I don't quite know what to do with. The sad story of me and my family is all in here, in this little box. Writing it all down was helpful in getting past the pain I went through at the time my wife died and my family disintegrated. I've never showed this to anyone before but would like your opinion on it. I think it's only good for holding the door open on windy nights but I really would like the opinion of someone whose writing I admire" She looked at me with eyes full of admiration. "I'd love to read your book. What's it called?" "I call it Fair-Weather Friends." "Wow, its heavy," she said as she took if from my hand. "987 Pages in all. I want you to tell me what you think. Be honest, brutal if you have to, but I want someone other than me to give comments on it. I don't want to show it to my daughter because she went through everything I wrote about and it would just bring up the old feelings again. I don't want to do anything to hurt her." "Marc, it would be a pleasure to read your story and give you my opinion. One thing I may have forgotten to tell you about is that I'm very opinionated. I call it like it is and let the chips fall as they may, or however that old cliché goes. I'll start it tomorrow." We talked about our writing class, about Florida night life for people our age, and ended up trading opinions on some of our favorite movies. We had a pleasant evening, and for once the Florida weather cooperated. When I walked her to her car she gave me a little kiss on the cheek. I felt like a teenager again as I cleaned up from our little dinner party. ******** Alicia wasn't in class at the next meeting and I hadn't heard from her since our dinner. I was beginning to wonder if asking her to review my book proved to her that I was some kind of nut and should be avoided at all cost. I thought about calling her but didn't want to seem pushy. Two weeks later she called me when I was out and left a message on my answering machine. "Hello Marc, this is Alicia. I want you to come over to my place for dinner Friday night. My son is in town and staying with me for a few days and I want you two to meet. I may have a bit of a surprise when you get here so bring a bottle or two of that lovely white wine we had the other day and be here at seven. Call me back and let me know. Bye." Friday night I dressed casually but nicely and brought along two bottles of Balthasar Ress Riesling Kabinett Hattenheimer Schutzenhaus 2012. I read in the local Orlando magazine that this was one of the best white wines of the year and since I didn't know anything about wines I decided to trust the author of the article. It was good with lasagna and I hoped it would be good with whatever Alicia was serving. "Hi Marc, come on in," Alicia's face lit up as she gave me the tour of her home. When we got to the patio I saw a small table set for three with candlelight and wine glasses. A man walked from between the two orange trees and into the light of the dinner table. "Marc, I'd like you to meet my son Barry. Barry this is Marc Jenkins." "It's a real pleasure to meet you," he said as we shook hands. "Mom has told me a lot of good things about you. She's impressed and it takes a lot to impress her." "It's nice to meet you too Barry. But whatever she said is probably some of the fiction from our creative writing class. There isn't too much exciting about me." Alicia smiled and pointed to the table. She took the wine bottles and put them in a chiller as we sat down. When she finally sat down she smiled that big beautiful smile again and took my hand. "Marc, I've asked you here under false pretenses. We'll eat as soon as the wine is chilled but I first want to talk first and give you what I think is exciting news. I think it will be quite a surprise for you, hopefully a good one." My curiosity was peaked but at the same time I was more than a little bit nervous. "Marc, my son is here tonight to meet you because of something I did that you might not have approved of if I had asked you ahead of time. But I did it and it's too late now so if you're going to get mad then just go ahead and get mad. Okay, here's what I did. I finished your book in two days and it completely blew me away. I couldn't put it down once I got about half way through it. It was the most inspiring and heart rending story I've ever read. I cried at the end of the chapter where you went to live with your dad after finding out about your wife. I cried at the end when you talked about your children. Marc, it was the most fantastic book I've ever read and I had to share it with my son. I sent it to him and he read it. He doesn't usually read unsolicited books from unknown authors but he did so at my request. He's my son and he had no choice. Marc, he loved it too and wants to help you edit it so he can publish it. Isn't that fantastic?" I just sat there looking at her as she smiled back at me. I didn't know what to say or do. I probably looked quite stupid but there wasn't anything I could do about it. When I looked over at Barry he smiled back and started where his mother had finished. "Mom's right Mr. Jenkins. It was the best first novel I've ever read and I've read a lot of them. You see I work for Prentiss Press in New York and I'm the assistant chief in charge of screening submissions from authors like yourself. We get in about 100 new books a month and I've got to read them and evaluate them before sending them on to two other screeners. If we all agree that what we've read is worthy of publishing then we work with the author to get their manuscript edited and in shape for publication. Your book has been through the process and we want to publish it. We can talk after dinner about the details but for now I want to congratulate you for creating such a moving book. It's going to be a real winner." I was dumbfounded. Now I'm sure my expression went from stupid to blithering idiot in a heartbeat. Alicia's smile grew ten fold as she watched me sit with an asinine look on my face not knowing what to say. Finally she got up, kissed me on the forehead, and went to get dinner. Some time during the salad course I found my voice again. We talked about my book and about specific parts of the story. I could see Alicia tear up when we talked about certain parts and I know I did too. We ate Alicia's version of poached Mahi Mahi and talked some more. While we ate a sweet peach cobbler Barry outlined the process and the work I needed to do. He talked about promoting the book and what I could expect in royalties. I wasn't going to be rich. By the time he excused himself to go to bed my head was swirling with everything I had just learned. Alicia poured the last of the wine and we sat together in the cool night breeze and talked about what it must be like to be a famous author like Stephen King or J. K. Rowling. I wasn't in their class but it was really fun to fantasize about it for a little while. It was after midnight when I came back down to earth and decided it was time to go home. Alicia walked me to my car and this time gave me more than a little kiss on the cheek. I got a full blown deep soul kiss that reminded me that I may be 55 years old but I wasn't dead. The stirring in my pants paid tribute to that. I hadn't felt anything like that since Connie. That thought made me sad. The erection I went home with made me very, very happy. ******** Over the next three months I worked with one of the Prentiss Press editors to fix and polish my manuscript. We did everything with one face to face meeting and a whole lot of emails and telephone calls. The first thing I had to do was transfer my version in MS Word to a software package they recommended. I found it to be very easy to use for editing but rather clunky when creating whole new pieces from scratch. When we were both satisfied with the final product a printed galley sheet showed up in the FedEx overnight mail and I spent an entire weekend going over it sentence by sentence, word by word. No matter how many times I read it I would always find something to change that I just knew made it 100% better. My editor warned me that it would happen. She was right as usual. I worked all day at Folks Industries and all evening on my novel. Faye was way beyond ecstatic about my book. I told her she couldn't read it until I got the first copy from the publisher. She made sure I ate and got enough exercise and watched the nightly news before going to bed. She was like an old mother hen. Alicia on the other hand came over only on weekends. She said she didn't want to sap the creative juices. We went to dinner or I cooked something at home. We talked about everything, nothing was off limits. I don't think any expensive psychiatrist could have done more for me than what she did. The more I talked about my past the better I felt. Obviously I never got over what Connie did to me and what I did to her. I now saw that we were both to blame and every bit of it came out in my book. Our friendship had progressed a lot and on the day I sent my final galley sheet changes back to Prentiss she said she was "going to give me an end-of-writing reward." She stayed the night and we rewarded each other, over and over. Faye came home for a few minutes and once she realized that I had company, went back out and stayed with her boyfriend. Alicia opened up in me a new appreciation for living. Fair-Weather Friends My book hit the stores May 1st. I was contractually obligated to make a number of personal book signing appearances around the country one of which just so happened to be in Ellicott City, my old hometown in Maryland. I was both anxious and terrified about that one. I took three weeks off of work and did the book tour. One might envision the life of an author as glamorous and uncomplicated. The reality is that it's anything but that. For 28 straight days my routine was catch a flight or a train to a new city, check in at my hotel, and don't unpack because I wasn't going to be there long enough, go to the book signing location, and talk to everybody in a long line of well-wishers and admirers about how my book changed their lives. I really enjoyed talking to everyone at the book signing but the travel and hotels got very old very quickly. Alicia showed up unannounced to have me sign a book for her in two cities and my signing tour drudgery changed to absolute joy. She acted all shy and demure and I played at the world famous author seducing one of the local women. She spent the night and helped to massage out all the aches and pains that air travel can cause. Each time she left I felt a hole in my being where she used to be. We would talk on the phone but it wasn't the same as holding her in my arms. I was beginning to feel something I hadn't felt in years, something in my heart that only someone in love would understand. I hoped she felt the same way. The last stop on my tour was my old home town. I asked if they could arrange it so it was last and Prentiss was very accommodating. I knew the bookstore where I was to meet the public very well as it was just a few miles from my old house. The event was to start at noon and run until four. When I arrived at the store there was already a long line of people waiting in front of a table where fifty or so copies of my book were neatly arranged along with a large poster showing my picture from the dust jacket and a picture of the book announcing the times I would be available to sign books. I looked around and saw several people in line that I remembered. The first person in line was my old boss and his wife. I immediately went over to them and hugged both of them before getting the high sign that I was to sit and start signing. We exchanged phone numbers, addresses, and email addresses and I promised to come back and take them both to dinner. I was so happy to see them that I almost forgot about the growing line behind them. I signed the books, chatted for a moment, and smiled at everyone in line. A couple times I stood to take a picture with someone. All in all it was a much better experience than I had expected. About thirty minutes after I started one of my old friends came up and held out my book. He was one of the people at Connie's funeral that wouldn't make eye contact with me or talk to me. I signed the book 'To My Old Friend' and gave him a smile and a friendly handshake afterwards. Then he did something I hadn't expected. He said in a very quiet voice, "I'm sorry for the way I treated you. I didn't understand until I read your book." Sheepishly he turned and walked away. A similar apology came from several of my one-time friends throughout the afternoon. People that I used to call friends apologized for the way they treated me or judged me. I was almost embarrassed as they walked away. The most utterly surreal moment occurred when Lenore Jablonski came up to the desk with a copy of my book to be signed. She approached with an uncomfortable looking little grin and said, "Hi Marc. Sorry to meet again like this after all that's occurred but I thought I had to face you and commiserate a little. I can't apologize enough for what John did to you but if it's any consequence you should know that I kicked the son of a bitch out shortly after, well, after Connie passed. We've been divorced for four years now and I'm engaged to a contractor from Annapolis. Oh and just in case you hear anything, there was a rumor going around town that you were looking for John to get a little payback for the pain he caused. He must have heard it because one day he quit his job and took a position in Saudi Arabia as some sort of a computer consultant. I haven't seen him since. Oh, and yes, it was me that started the rumor." She stood in front of the desk smiling and holding out the book. I didn't know what to do or say. After a quiet minute of just staring at each other I took the book and signed 'To Lenore, NOT a Fair-Weather Friend. I hope that some words in my book can help you find your own deliverance, as I found mine. Thanks for the rumor! Marc.' I went around the table and we hugged for a minute before she left. At the end of the scheduled time there was still a line waiting in front of the table. I looked up and did a double take. Megan was standing over by one of the book racks watching. She didn't approach or say anything and she looked quite subdued. When I looked up after signing the next book she was gone. I stood and looked around but she had disappeared. The very last person in line was Faye. We hugged and made small talk as she walked me out to her car. She drove me back to my hotel, and no, it wasn't the Holiday Inn, and we sat in the car talking for a while about Alicia. Faye liked her and hoped that I did to. When I told her that I thought I was in love with her she threw her arms around me and cried in my neck. As luck would have it, right as she was hugging me a police car came up along side and flashed its lights. Police Sergeant Greg got out and tapped on the window. When we all recognized one another it was like old home week. We talked and laughed and hugged each other and I told him what I was doing back in town. He hadn't read my book so I took one out of my supply and signed it for him. I wrote in the front cover 'Greg, Knowing you changed my life. No hard feelings, someone had to do it. Marc.' Greg had to speed away on a call and Faye and I went inside and had dinner. All in all coming back to where it all started wasn't as traumatic as I had expected. ******** It was a pretty major shock to see Megan standing on the other side of my door. Alicia and I had just finished breakfast and were talking about the latest New York Times Bestseller list and that Fair-Weather Friends now ranked third in the non-fiction category. But all of that faded into oblivion when I saw my daughter standing there. "Hi Dad, how have you been?" Megan asked with a hint of embarrassment in her voice. "Hello Megan. I'm fine. What can I do for you?" "I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop and see how you're doing." "This neighborhood is 900 miles from yours Megan. Quite a bit out of your way isn't it?" I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see Alicia standing there. "Care to introduce me Marc?" she said with more than a hint of command in her voice. "Alicia this is my daughter Megan." Alicia pushed past me and gave Megan a giant hug. "Come on in. I've heard so much about you." The two women completely ignored me as they walked into the living room. They sat down and talked non-stop for an hour leaving me to clean up the kitchen and do any other household chores that needed to be done. I only passed the living room a couple times while cleaning and they were both talking and giggling. Alicia oohed and aahed as Megan showed her pictures of her kids. "Honey, come out here and join is," Alicia called. I knew an order when I heard one so I went out and sat down next to her. She grabbed my hand, more to keep me from leaving than as a sign of affection. Megan looked down at our intertwined fingers. All was quiet for longer than felt comfortable. "All right, since the two of you aren't going to say anything I'll do it," Alicia said with a gruff tone. "Marc, I invited Megan here because she has something she wants to say to you. I knew that you wouldn't invite her so I did. I know that I'm only a guest in your home but if you want me to keep being a guest then you'll sit right here and listen to her." My eyes darted back and forth between Megan and Alicia. They had me surrounded and didn't want to start another battle so I sat back and prepared myself. "Dad, I came here to see how you were doing, that part wasn't a lie. I also came to offer you an apology. Dad, I've been wrong about a lot of things, most of all about you. I was convinced in my mind that everything that happened to Mom and Stuart and me was all your fault. I could only see part of what went on back then. It wasn't until I read your book that I saw things from your point of view. I felt so foolish after I read what you wrote and how painful everything was for you. I guess I never really thought that you had feelings; after all you hardly ever expressed any emotions around us when we were small. Your book helped me to grow up a little. I never realized that I was both a grown woman with a husband and children of my own but at the same time still an innocent little girl to you. I always thought of Mom as a saint even after the awful things she did to you. You were always strong and confident and untouched by everything that went on in the world but I now see that as a façade you used to protect your feelings. Mom broke through that shield and hurt you more than I could have ever imagined. I believed that if you could just be as strong with her and tell her that you forgave her and come back home then everything would be all right. What I didn't understand was that you were strong, strong enough to back away from someone you've loved for more than 25 years to protect all of us from her error. Dad I'm sorry for not giving you the credit you deserved. Instead I abandoned you and told everyone we knew that everything was all your fault. After Mom died I told people that she died because of what you did. I was wrong and I know it now. I've only started to make amends for what I did. I bought a lot of copies of your book and took them to all of your and Mom's old friends and asked them to read it. I told each one of them that you didn't do anything wrong and you were hurt by what happened more than anyone imagined. I saw you at the book signing a few weeks ago and stood there watching you. I wanted to come up and hug you but I didn't have the nerve. I'm here today to offer this apology and to ask if you would consider being a part of my life again. It's been more than five years now. You've got two of the most beautiful little grandchildren that you've never met. I want you to come home. I want you to be my father again. I don't want to be dead to you any more. I love you Dad and need you to love me again. Please?" Megan put her head down in her hands and started crying. I felt a pang of guilt right then. As I looked over at Alicia I could see her looking at me waiting for me to do something. I thought about what she said and how I could handle the situation. I decide on a delaying tactic while I thought about it. "What about Stuart?" I asked Megan. "How does he feel about me? Did he know that you were coming here?" "Stuart's such an ass. I think what Mom did hurt him most of all. After Lorrie caught him running around and divorced him he moved to California and got into the lifestyle out there. He's been hopping from one girlfriend to another for the last few years. From what I hear he was with one married women whose husbands objected pretty strongly to their activities and Stuart decided to leave town or face the consequences. He still believes that everyone cheats and it's no big deal. He doesn't know I'm here and I don't care what he thinks." Well her little tirade didn't give me enough time to think about what I wanted to do. So I decided to delay again. "Megan, what are your plans now. Are you staying in town, do you have a place to stay, what?" "I'm staying with Faye. She wanted me to see her new condo so I'm going to stay there for the next couple days and then head back home." "I tell you what I'll do. I'll think about everything you said today and let you know what I decide. That's the best I can do for now." "Dad, truthfully I didn't expect even that much. Thanks. I'll just head over to Faye's now. Alicia, it was nice to finally meet you. I hope we can get together again soon. Take good care of my Dad for me." Megan left as suddenly as she had appeared. I had a lot to think about but this time I had a guide that wouldn't allow me to do anything stupid. Alicia was a part of me now and I couldn't imagine my life without her. When I had a moment alone and away from Alicia I let my emotions go. I didn't want her to see me cry. ******** When Alicia and I got back from our Caribbean cruise we immediately flew up to Maryland. The cruise was a gift from Prentiss Press because Fair-Weather Friends made it to number one on the New York Times Best Seller list. I got to meet my two grandchildren, now two and four, and show Alicia around town. There were a lot of memories in the old place and Megan and I started to make some new ones, again as father and daughter. Alicia had a lot of experience at being a grandparent and she gave me some much welcomed advice to help with the awkward moments. But the best moment came at dinner with Megan's family when I told them that Alicia and I have decided to get married. We made the decision on our cruise and wanted to tell Megan second. Faye's already started planning the wedding. We were going to visit Alicia's kids next and tell them the news. Alicia and I are very happy. We both said that when we were younger we would have never expected our lives to turn out the way they did. With the naiveté of youth we believed that we were invincible and that our first true love would be our first and final. It didn't happen like some fairy tale, it happened just like millions of other's real life story. I was happy with Connie for 25 years and I expect to be as happy with Alicia for the next 25. Maybe I'll write another book about that. Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made: Our times are in His hand Who saith, "A whole I planned, Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!" Damn that Robert Browning was smart.