Chapter Thirty-Six
Richard sat, gazing out over white sandy beach, as he had done many times before. Watching the gentle action of the gulf soothed the turmoil of his life that he could not escape. The memory of how his father would whistle for him to come to dinner, like one would a dog, was an ache that he was unable to resolve. He had never been able to establish an identity and he still struggled with what his purpose in life was. He chuckled away the pain. The self-respect had been beaten out of him by his father and older brother to the point that the only time he felt a sense of value was by controlling every-thing around him through the anger he inherited. During his lifetime he had absorbed so much of that rage he despised himself each time he displayed the emotion. Whenever he held it in, he only took on more. He had no desire to subject anyone, especially Susan, to the or-deal that had been his life. The hatred he felt for the man he had become seethed inside him. Richard ached to find a remedy. His eye twitched as it had done ever since his epiphany that morning in the storeroom. He tried to vigorously rub it away, but it continued uncontrollably.
There was an attorney who wanted to buy the house from him after his aunt’s estate closed probate. He tried to convince Richard the property was only worth the assessed value on the tax rolls. He knew better. The original offer was never dignified with a response. It was time for him and Susan to get all of their affairs in order. Richard called and told him the house was for sale. The man willingly accepted, knowing there was no reason to haggle. The land included four lots and could be developed into something more than a single house. That was where he would make his money. He asked Richard to stay at the house until a runner could drop off a contract on the property. He agreed.
There were many people that he remembered being happy to have known. They had all, in their own individual manner, contributed something to Richard that he had carried with him throughout his life. It was obvious to him that he was not meant to be one of the contributors. He understood that he had become a taker and was not altogether sure he could change that. The reality of what awaited him and Susan once they left town began to overwhelm him. His life had never been better than at that moment in time, and there was no way to freeze the clock. He knew that life would continue to be a struggle, not with Susan, but with the forces that it was necessary to do battle with in order to survive. It would be a war made more difficult because he had to overcome his past in order to envision any sort of future for him and his wife.