2020: Emergency Exit (26 page)

“How’d you know, man?” Danny shot back. “Idiot,” he mumbled.

“I’m thankful we could all sit here on Thanksgiving, in the middle of all this, and spend an hour talking about all the good things we still have,” Jenna jumped in.

“Amen,” Dad said.

“But I do miss swimming and running. Taking long walks. Sunshine. Those kinds of things.” That got a lot of agreement. “And I’m with Hayley. I miss music.”

“I’ve got some music for you,” Cameron jumped in.

“Cam,” Danny stood up. “I’m gonna shove my foot up your—”

“Danny,” Grandma Ollie spoke up, cutting him off. “Anything to add?”

Danny watched Cameron scramble safely away and shook his head in mock disgust. “I’m thankful we’ve been to Estes Park so many times,” he began. “Imagine if we had no idea where to go. If we’d just stayed in town even.” We nodded, knowing what that would have meant. “This makes it all a little easier.”

We were in total agreement there. “And I’m thankful for every single thing we managed to get up here, especially if they get us through the winter. I gotta say, that Batteries Plus store was a lifesaver.” More agreement.

“And what do you miss?” Emily asked.

“Oreos,” Danny said, laughing.
“Oh, good grief.” Hayley rolled her eyes, chucking the hacky sack at him now.

Yeah. This was a good idea
.

“Happy Thanksgiving, everyone,” Mom said. Those sentiments echoed around the room.

Happy Thanksgiving, indeed
!

FORTY-FOUR: “Chills and Thrills”

Friday, November 27, 2020.

Estes Park, Colorado.

We had a pretty good meal for Thanksgiving, and everyone spent most of the afternoon sleeping it off. It was a relatively warm day for the mountains, almost breaking forty degrees at one point, and the skies were crystal clear. We bundled up after dark and moved outside to the rock ledge above our back exit. The stars were out in force, with a meteor shower providing a natural fireworks display. Other than the hooting and hollering down in the valley at the enemy camp and an occasional lonely wolf howl, it was pretty still. Most of us stayed outside for a couple of hours, and then everyone eventually went back in except Tara and me.

We sat next to each other, not touching, but close, and looked up at the stars.

“Stunning night,” she whispered.

I nodded. “Yep.”

“Care to tell me what you’re thinking?” she asked.

“Mostly about you,” I admitted.

“Really?” She sounded genuinely surprised, although pleasantly so. I nodded again. “Want to expand on that?”

“You smell good,” I said, redirecting.

“Interesting.” She smiled. “I didn’t put anything on today. That’s just me.”

“Like I said.”
Okay, good start
.

“Seriously, Ryan…”

I didn’t say anything for a while, and she didn’t push. The shooting stars continued their show above us. I was nervous. My heart was pounding like mad. I knew this was the solitude we’d been waiting for, and I knew I was finally ready to have this conversation.

Still, I couldn’t help but smile as Tara fidgeted. I could tell she was failing at being as patient as she usually was. Finally I gave in. “Well.” I thought about how to say it. “I miss my wife—” I started and then cut myself off. “Sorry,” I corrected. “I miss Sophie.”

“Of course,” Tara replied.
What was she supposed to say?

“I’ve never known anyone like her,” I began.
Just go with it
. “You’d have loved her.”
Okay, choose your words better.
“She had this way of making everyone feel special. She was so patient. So kind. So accepting of everyone. She deserved so much better than me.” Before Tara could object I held up my hand. (I had no idea at the time Danny was sitting inside the entrance listening to every word.) “Tara, I want to be honest with you, okay. I’m not trying to tear myself down so you’ll defend me. Trust me. I honestly don’t deserve defense on this.”

“Okay.” She nodded, unsure where I was going with this.

“We met my junior, her senior, year in high school. She was advanced placement in everything academic, and athletic for that matter—the kind of girl a guy like me never figures he’ll get. But she didn’t dig the jock type, and she had no desire to be around the drinking, party crowd. Anyway,” I said, jumping ahead. “She had her act together, and it didn’t take long for me to fall for her. We had a few classes together, and she helped me through them, always gave me all the time in the world. When she left for college, I figured we’d be done. I was sure, as beautiful as she was, she’d find some other guy and move on. When she didn’t, it said a lot to me. Either college guys were stupid, or she was every bit who she said she was. Maybe it was both.”

I paused.
Here goes
. “Anyway, the summer I graduated we spent most of it together. The night before she went back to college we spent the night together for the first time, and Danny was the result of that.”
Move on quickly
. “Again, I thought Sophie would panic. Everyone else sure did. But she didn’t. It never even crossed her mind to do anything other than raise that child with me.”

I looked at Tara to make sure she wasn’t bored. She was staring at me, definitely interested, so I continued. “Her parents refused to pay for a wedding under those circumstances so, in late April, we had a small ceremony in a courtroom and made it official. Sophie was fine with that, too. She just wanted to be with me. I was nineteen, Sophie was twenty, and Danny was born a few weeks after the wedding, on May 18. It was the greatest day of our life together, for sure.” I stopped to point out a huge meteor.

“Sophie stayed in school. I dropped out and Dad got me a job with a friend of his at an architecture company. I started taking night classes at the local community college. We got through that insanity somehow. Truthfully, the first two to three honeymoon years were great,” I continued. “She was an awesome mother, and Danny kept her busy. I eventually got my degree and started my own small architecture company. I poured my entire life into the startup stages…didn’t have time for anything else. I’d come home late every day, and she’d be tired. Too tired. I started to get on her for it. Little by little, more and more. I mean, she was washing the dishes, cleaning the house, doing the laundry, raising our child, cooking, everything—and I let all her distractions get to me. I was pretty selfish, and in response I kind of shut her down, closed her off from my life. I started spending the night at work and going out to a couple bars. It started with one or two drinks a few times a week and then became more regular. She would always ask me where I was, and I always blew her off.” I took a deep breath.

“One night I worked late and stopped at the bar on my way home. There was this girl I’d seen in there a few times. She always smiled at me, and that night we struck up a conversation. One thing led to another, and I went home with her. I didn’t sleep with her, but I probably would have.”
Probably?
How about definitely?

Sometimes I wish my conscience would just shut up
. “Anyway, as we were…uh…kissing my phone rang, and I only glanced at it because I wanted it out of my pocket. Had it been Sophie’s name on the caller ID instead of an unknown—which turned out to be the hospital—I probably wouldn’t have even answered. But I did answer, and when I arrived at the hospital the doctor told me she’d miscarried at three months.” I shook my head and looked down. I saw Tara’s hand briefly move towards mine, but then she pulled it back.

“I didn’t even know she was pregnant. Seems she’d been trying to tell me for a while, but I never once seemed to care. That should have been more of a wake-up call than it was, but me being me, I didn’t get it all yet. I never went back to that bar, never even saw that girl again. The guilt of that whole night was pretty powerful on me. I knew I was minutes from cheating on her back at what’s-her-name’s place.”
I actually didn’t know
. “I had every intention of doing so. But I didn’t. Not physically.”

I was quiet for a bit, but Tara didn’t say anything either. “I just don’t know how I got to there, you know? I never could have taken that back. I never told Sophie about that night, but I think she knew. I think she probably thinks I actually did sleep with that girl. I guess it’s kind of one and the same anyway.” Another long pause. I couldn’t even look at Tara now.

“I tried to be home more after that, but I still wasn’t carrying my weight. We got pregnant with Hayley when we were trying to make things right. Or I should say Sophie was. I was there, but not into it. It was nothing more than physical pleasure for me. I wasn’t committed to her emotionally. I still wasn’t giving her much of a chance with me. I was such a jerk. I was sarcastic and rude, always badmouthing her, never giving her credit for anything, and all the time complaining I wasn’t getting any respect from her—like I deserved any.” I’d said all this to Sophie many times at her grave, but saying it to someone else was, well, strange.

I took another deep breath. “We survived for many years, barely being social, barely ever happy, and then we got pregnant again, and we had Logan.” I could tell this caught Tara by surprise.
So Hayley didn’t tell her that part
.

“I don’t know what it was about me, or about us, that made us think having more kids would solve our problems. It truthfully only magnified them. It was the same thing every time. You’d think I’d have caught on. She
had
to take care of the babies. The baby had to come first. I just was never good at being second, or in this case fourth.” I laughed. Tara didn’t.
Why did you think that was funny?

“We did all right for awhile, and then, before Logan’s second birthday, we lost him to what we were told was a form of SIDS. That turned out to be pretty much the final straw. We started fighting. All the time. Sophie was seeing a counselor and wanted me to go with her, but I was pretty flipping stubborn. I didn’t see how telling someone else my problems would make them go away.”
Although telling Tara these problems might make
her
go away
.

“Besides, I rationalized, these problems were all Sophie’s. She was the reason Logan was dead. Yes, at one point I actually even told her that. What kind of man…” My voice trailed off.

Tara still hadn’t said anything and pretty much hadn’t moved an inch. I had seen her hand reach towards mine a few times now, but I was gesturing so much she’d pulled back each time. I had the chills now and was trembling, but I was pretty sure it was nerves. I felt sick. But I kept going.

“We had a huge fight one night. She finally spoke her mind, told me I’d basically been absent for the past decade. I said a few things I shouldn’t have said. She started crying. For the first time in our entire relationship she actually screamed back at me. She told me she hated me and I was the worst husband ever. I said a few more terrible things, told her I was leaving her, and I walked out. Danny was old enough to know what was going on. He was in the middle of all of it. Honestly, he was pretty mad at Sophie at the time. He thought it was her fault because that’s what I was telling him. What kind of dad does that?” I let the rhetorical question sink in before answering it. “Certainly not a good one.” I knew I was either sinking this ship with Tara or saving it. I continued.

“I filled out divorce papers but never gave them to her. I’d threatened to, but kept them hidden. She figured I was all talk. That I had to realize what I would lose. Somehow I didn’t. Finally, she told me I couldn’t come back to the house. I was fine with that. For about three weeks. Somewhere in there I had an epiphany of sorts, and things started to fall into place. I started to realize everything I was missing with her. I started to
see
everything I was missing with the kids. At some point I stopped and looked around me and saw that, no matter what, I wasn’t going to find something—someone—out there better for me than her. That same person I fell in love with was still there. She was still Sophie. Somehow it was me that had changed. She never had to wait for me—not in college, not in the marriage—but she always did. Somehow, as blind as I was, I saw that, and
finally
I came back to her.” Tara was nodding now. She was still following.

“But I’d messed up with the kids too. Perhaps even more, if that’s possible. By that point Danny knew I was the problem. I think he probably suspected as much beforehand, but he stayed loyal to me for far longer than he should have. Man, I wish he wouldn’t have. His mom was so much better than me.” That got no argument from Tara.

“I’m pretty sure if it’s possible for a boy to hate his father at this point he hated me. He was almost never home and, while I understood and knew I was to blame, I was afraid he was off doing stupid things like drugs or drinking…whatever. He wouldn’t give me the time of day though, and every time I tried to talk to him he’d put his headphones on or leave. I grabbed his arm once, and he hit me. At that point I knew I had to leave him alone. Things cooled down after that, and one night I caught Sophie talking to him, pleading with him to give me a chance. Turns out she’d been doing that the entire time. After all those times I badmouthed her, I honestly believe she
never
turned on me in front of the kids. Anyway, somehow she got through to him. He started staying at the dinner table with us. He’d even answer some of my questions if they weren’t personal. He was watching me like a hawk, all the time, but he must have seen how much I’d come to terms with my own stupidity, and how much I was trying to do right by Sophie again. I’d even started seeing a counselor then. I really wanted to be a better man. I was praying it wasn’t too late.” I shook my head. This was getting harder to talk about, and I couldn’t stop shaking.

“Turns out it was. Sophie was killed by a drunk driver shortly after that. Danny was sixteen.” Now I could see it was making sense to Tara. Now she could understand why I’d pulled away that night. It didn’t take a psychology degree to see the level of guilt I’d been carrying with me, all the way back to the night of the miscarriage and my time with that girl. Tara understood I was afraid that even four years after her death I was betraying Sophie by merely talking to Tara, much less touching her.