Authors: Victoria Bradley
Perry declined to stay up with them. “This old fart can’t keep up with that schedule anymore. I’ll take my leave and let you two rest up before your shift.” Perry hugged them both, signing off with his signature line to Jane, “Remember, I love you most of all, Scarecrow” to which he added to Mark “and you, too, Tin Man.”
Somehow having Perry around again was already changing the dynamic between Jane and Mark. Since her evening confessional, Perry had spent time separately with each of his friends, serving as the sounding board they both needed. Somehow the surrogate child had morphed into the surrogate parent. He was more effective as a counselor than Phyllis simply because he did not see things through a lens of clinical detachment, but rather through a lifetime of knowing and loving these people. Being able to talk to Perry allowed Jane and Mark to become more comfortable with one another, though they had yet to speak directly about their elephant in the room.
Mark was sitting with his back towards her when she entered the bedroom, carrying a mug of hot chamomile tea. She stood in the doorway, recalling the moment she had finally let herself act upon her feelings for this wonderful man.
It had been during the fall semester of their third year on campus when Mark talked her into going hiking with him in the mountains. Jane was never much of a hiker, but managed to keep pace with him until they reached their destination atop a hunk of earth called Enchanted Peak. He had promised she would be rewarded with the most beautiful sunset she’d ever seen, and he delivered. Watching the gorgeous autumn sun set over a horizon of cool colors, the hilltop began to work its magic.
That day Jane looked at Mark like she was seeing him for the first time. By that point he had shaved off the mustache and cut his hair, then ringed by a sweaty bandana. She herself was not looking her best: red-faced from the hike, wearing no makeup, her long perm frizzy from the humidity. It had been a warm day, but now as the sun started to go down, so too did the temperature. She leaned into him for warmth and he chivalrously covered her with a blanket from his backpack. Knowing he would never breech the barriers of their friendship, she moved in and took him by surprise with a kiss that seemed to last forever. It was the perfect romantic moment and she had never looked back since.
Now her beloved husband sat wistfully looking into nothingness as an awkward silence enveloped the room. “The house is so quiet,” he observed.
She sat down beside him and set the mug on the nightstand. “I guess we should get used to it.”
“
Yeah,” he said sadly. “I’m not looking forward to that.” He stared down at the floor. “You know, I always thought of myself as a good dad. I don’t know what I’ll do without that.”
There it was. Mark’s real fear. Somehow he thought he had failed at the one thing he was good at and time had run out for a do-over. All Papa bird would have is an empty nest. “You
are
a good father, Mark. You’ll always be a good father,” she said, placing a protective arm around him and leaning her head on his shoulder. “I’m going to miss them, too, but someone recently reminded me that, if you love your kids, you’re always with them in some way. So far they’ve turned out pretty good.”
He kissed her head softly. “I’m sorry I’ve been so hard on you these past few months.”
“
Ditto.” They hugged one another. “You know, the empty nest might not be so bad. There’s still a lot we have to learn about one another,” she said.
He leaned up. “You don’t have to talk about old stuff if you don’t want to.”
“
No, we need to,” she insisted. “We can’t keep communicating through Perry forever. You know why I took the Burns case so personally. We need to talk about it. All these years, you’ve been wondering about some things that I didn’t event think you knew about and it’s hurting us. I need to confess and you need to hear my confession.”
“
You lookin’ for absolution? I’m not sure we Jews do that,” he joked.
She took his chin in her hand. “I’m serious.”
He made a sign of the cross across his body. “Speak my child.” His mockery somehow made her feel better. It was the first time they had laughed alone together in awhile.
“
My first year at the university, I had an affair with a student,” she said slowly. “It was just a physical thing, nothing more. In fact, I was pretty horrible to the kid. So horrible that if the current me had confronted the former me about it, I would have fired myself.”
“
Hmm, I’ll have to think about that one for a minute,” he mused.
“
I was also pretty horrible to you. I used you as a friend while I was secretly sleeping with the boy. I did a lot of things I was pretty ashamed of back then.” She took a breath. “Perry tells me you knew about the abortion.”
Mark stared at the wall. “Not at first. Not for a long time, actually.”
“
How’d you find out?” she asked.
Now it was his turn to look embarrassed. “Uh, well . . . It was right after the twins were born. It wasn’t intentional. Just one of those dumb things dads do to pass the time. You were asleep and the babies were off in the nursery having some tests. Your medical file was sitting on the end of the bed, so I started reading it. And there it was in your past history. I saw the date and kind of put things together. I really wasn’t trying to snoop. I was just bored. I asked Perry about it, but he pretended not to know, so I let it drop.”
“
Why didn’t you tell me you knew?” Jane asked.
Mark shifted nervously. “We’d just had the twins. Everything was great. I didn’t see the point. It didn’t make any difference in how I felt about you, but it did make me sad that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me about it.”
“
That wasn’t about you. I was embarrassed,” she admitted. “I wanted to forget about the whole thing, pretend it hadn’t happened.”
“
But the historical record remains,” he said dramatically.
“
It’s true,” she admitted. “I can’t change the past by pretending it didn’t happen. I regret many of my actions back then. How I treated people; how I treated myself. I can’t honestly say I regret the abortion. At the time it made sense under the circumstances, though I do feel guilty about it. And it brought me to you.”
He looked puzzled.
She explained, “You know, the first day I met you I thought to myself, ‘This is a great guy. He’d probably make a good husband for some nice Jewish girl someday.’”
“
And I fell in love with you on the spot,” he recalled.
“
But I wasn’t ready for that love,” she admitted. “I think I had to go through the bad times in order to grow up and be ready for us.”
“
Until you were ready to settle,” he said wistfully.
“
No!” she insisted, grabbing him by the shoulders. “Not settle. Don’t ever think I settled, Markus Aaron Straussman. You sell yourself short. You were too good for me. I love you. You’re my
mensch,
but I had to grow into a
chochem
before I could be worthy of your love.”
“
You pronounce that very well,” he complimented, then leaned back and assessed his wife. “Wow, I guess we do still have a few things to learn about one another.”
“
See, it doesn’t have to get boring, even after 30 years.”
Mark sat up excitedly. “Hey, that’s right. We have a big anniversary coming up next year. We should start thinking about what we want to do.”
“
Let me guess,” she sighed, “scaling the 30 highest mountains in America.”
“
Nope,” he insisted, “this time, let’s do something romantic. Pick wherever you want to go: Paris, Rome, London, wherever.”
She looked him over suspiciously. “You hate big European cities.”
“
Okay,” he offered. “Let’s compromise. Someplace romantic, yet outdoorsy. Hawaii?”
“
Ugh,” she said. “I’d have to go out in public in a bathing suit.”
“
How about Fiji?” he offered with the excitement of a teenager. “Our own little private island nook. We wouldn’t even have to wear bathing suits.”
“
Hhmm, that might hold some possibilities,” she admitted. They kissed deeply, communicating that neither was ready to sleep.
Then Mark stood up abruptly. “Just a second.”
He dashed into the closet as his perplexed wife removed her clothing and settled beneath the sheets. He emerged moments later, completely naked, save for a familiar image of Groucho Marx playing “Here Comes the Bride.”
Epilogue
From
The Capital City Statesman
:
Death Notice
GOULD , Henry Charles, 71, retired college professor, of Capital City, died Thursday. Services 5 p.m. Today, University Memorial Chapel.
From
CampusInsider.com:
Horndog Discovers Karma’s a Bitch
According to reliable sources in the History Department, on Thursday evening, the naked body of history professor emeritus and well-known campus perv. Henry “Horndog Harry” Gould was discovered in his home after neighbors complained to police about a barking dog. Gould had apparently died of a heart attack in the shower at least two days earlier. Sources say that parts of his body, including genitalia, had been devoured by his Labrador retriever, who was a bitch, BTW.
Acknowledgements
The writing process is often lonely, involving countless hours spent isolated in front of a screen hoping the typed words come together to make some semblance of a story. The truth is, it takes many people to produce a book, including the dozens who never place a word on the page. They form the support team without whom this work would never have been possible. I owe a debt of gratitude to every one of them.
The first line of support includes my family, especially my husband, Larry, who supported my work, even when he did not quite understand what I was doing; my sons, who insist that their mom is “the best writer ever,” and take it in stride that she “never has a day off”; and my parents, Travis and Lynda, who always encouraged me to believe I could achieve any goal.
The second line of support includes my friends, especially Diana Schmidt and Ann Little, the “beta-testers” who suffered through the roughest drafts and still managed to offer honest evaluations; Sandy Pennington, my “final eyes”; and the countless others who encouraged me to publish this book. This includes my “marketing gurus” such as Tamara Carlisle, Ruth Johnson, Dawn Owens, and Stephanie Sanchez, who offered invaluable advice. They have been the best support team a gal could have.
A final thanks to the various teachers and editors who helped train me over the years. Although he has yet to read this book, I am most indebted to Randy Lindsey, the high school teacher who instilled in me a love of the written word and of writing. The millions of words I have written over my 25 years as a professional writer are a testament to his instruction.
Contact the author:
I always welcome helpful feedback from readers and encourage them to contact me with comments, questions, debate, etc.:
www.victoriabradley.com
.