Chapter Twenty-Four
For months Richard and Susan carried on a hollow relationship. Words between them had become mundane and rudimentary. That which once drew them together pushed them apart. No matter how much effort either put into it they only reminded each other of the challenges in their lives that were thought to have been overcome. Alcohol was the only constant in Richard’s life. When he opened the bottle he knew what he want-ed from it. There were no more days of running at five o’clock in the morning. The once fit body had begun to sag and spread. He had always taken pride in his appearance, but there seemed to be no need. Every time he saw his wife, or felt her presence, the blackness of his depression was exacerbated. His life with her had become inextricably wrapped into all of his failures.
Susan had gone for a walk on the beach. Richard sat in his chair in the living room with his favorite drink on the table next to his chair. The recliner was in the prone position and he held a photo album in his lap. It was one of five volumes that documented his adult life. Every page that he turned revealed empty spaces. He knew the moment he met Susan that she was the one and had no desire to ever relive his life before her. When he had thrown away old photographs that documented his life with other women, Richard had not taken the time fill in the gaps. He was astonished at how easily the memories came back to him. Those that surrounded the empty spaces told of where he was and whom he was with at the time. One of he and a costumed Roman soldier outside the Coliseum brought Angela back into his consciousness. They were on a trip the summer between their junior and senior years in college. He remembered feeling badly that he had not told Susan of his trip to Italy before their honeymoon, much less that it was with another woman. That was before he learned of Ralph. Medical school in the northeast took Angela away from him. He wondered how she was.
More pages were turned; more memories revealed themselves. There was Richard seated at a booth in the Oak Bar in the Plaza hotel in New York. Connie was a flight attendant and want-to-be actress who lived in California. He was in Los Angeles on business when they met. It was best that it flamed out quickly.
A few more pages were turned. Jill was a sweet girl. Richard still could not believe how poorly he treat-ed her. He once went to her house and found an old boyfriend there. She told him that he was just there to pick up something that he left there before they broke up. He was skeptical of her story. There was nothing in her suitor’s hand as he left the house, so Richard rationalized that he must have been encouraged by Jill to be there. He did not trust her because he did not trust him-self. That was all the justification he needed to cheat on her whenever the opportunity presented itself. He was never sure about the truth, but he knew she was a sweet girl and deserved better. He laughed as he recalled receiving an email from her not long before he met Susan. There was no message, only a photo attachment of that year’s Christmas card with her beautiful family on the snow-covered lawn in front of their mansion. He laughed as he realized the karma he introduced into his relationship with Jill had followed him into his marriage.
The sound of the back door opening startled Richard. He quickly closed the album. Susan walked into the room and sat on the couch behind him. She let out a big sigh and he ignored her. She slapped her hands on her knees, stood up and said, “I’m going to bed now. If you’d like to join me in our room tonight, feel free.”
Feel free, Richard thought to himself. She didn’t say, ‘Please do.’ He continued to dissect everything his wife said, and watched her out of the corner of his eye. She walked into their bedroom and closed the door. Was the closed door a retraction of the offer? He imagined her undressing and getting into her pajamas on the other side of the door. The vision of his wife’s body and how her silk nightgown hung from her shoulders and accentuated her curves was almost too much for him to take. It had been quite a while since they had held each other closely. The image he conjured of them together, nude and embracing was palpable. He decided to accept.
Richard placed the photo album next to his empty glass as he stood and walked quickly toward the door of their bedroom. When he entered Susan was already in bed. She lay with her back toward him.
Hurriedly, Richard got undressed and into his pajamas. He went into the bathroom and brushed his teeth, but did not give them as much attention as he normally would. The fear that she would change her mind fueled his haste. He did not want to get into bed and find her asleep.
After he finished, Richard walked over to the bed and tried his best to slide in and not appear too eager. He lay on his side, facing her back. Minutes passed without movement. Doubts about whether he should say or do anything repeatedly entered and left his mind until he finally decided to make an affectionate gesture. He reached over and slowly stroked her arm. She bristled at first, but settled into his touch without saying a word. Then he slid his hand up to her shoulder. At first his primal desire made him think of sliding it down her back toward her butt, but he knew that would not be well received. Instead, he began to gently, yet firmly, rub her shoulders. She appreciated the care in his touch.
Susan rolled over and faced her husband. He looked into her eyes. They were not clear and bright as he remembered. Stress emanated from them. She could not bring herself to smile. Richard did not say a word for fear of worsening an already bad situation.
“Where have you been?” Susan finally asked in a soft voice.
“On a journey to find myself.”
Susan did not appreciate his metaphor. She wanted facts. If he were going to avoid the issue at hand, she would be happy to take him on an excursion. The more she thought about it the angrier she became. She deserved some respect. His glibly evasive response supported her belief that he had something to hide. Her defenses became heightened. Susan searched her mind for a verbal dagger that would pierce his heart. “Do you remember the first night you called me for our blind date?” she asked.
“How could I ever forget it?”
“When mother told me the phone was for me, I was hoping it was John.”
The queue for his wife’s affection grew in front of him, pushing her farther away. It seemed a certainty that his marriage was over. He had been through enough failed relationships to recognize the exact moment.
Richard got out of bed and walked toward the door, stopping at the foot of the bed as he grabbed the corner-post. “If you’re trying to make me feel like less of a man, that’s fine. There is a reason for that, I know. It’s obvious that I can’t make you happy. You’re more than welcome to leave anytime.”
Susan was taken aback by his offer. Maybe she had not thought through her tactics, but leaving was not one of the things she had considered. She blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “So our marriage is just like an abortion to you, huh? If it’s inconvenient, surgically remove it, right?” Susan knew before the last word exited her mouth that she had taken the argument too far.
The two stared at one another. Richard shook his head. “I cannot believe you would choose some-thing so personally distressing to me as ammunition.”
Regardless, she was not willing to apologize. Susan was hurt and there was a part of her that enjoyed knowing he was in pain. They maintained a hateful eye contact.
There was only one thing left to say to his wife. “I knew a girl once who told me that if we ever had anything to say to one another that involved an old relationship, it should never be brought into the bedroom. She said our bedroom was a sanctuary unto us. I respected the wisdom of that young lady so much, I married her.” He turned and walked through the bedroom door, closing it behind him.