August 9th (7 page)

Sometimes I have to pinch myself to believe how much money I’m making. I guess it’s about being in the right place at the right time. Also, the best decision I’ve ever made, besides marrying Maggie, was to get my MBA from Stanford. The connections and relationships I made at Stanford have opened and continue to open doors.

Tess, I seem to be able to tell you things I can’t tell anyone else which becomes an even more bewildering thought since I still can’t explain our relationship. I don’t think intimacy can be one sided, can it?

That last paragraph was a prelude to what I’m about to write. Maggie and I seem to have grown apart after the birth of Ben, much like we did after Caroline was born. I’ve done a little research and think it’s called postpartum depression. Normally Maggie is the sweetest most even tempered person I know. She usually has more energy than me, including sexual energy. She’s the wild child. Since Ben was born that’s all changed. She’s irritable, has irrational mood swings, no interest in sex and always seems to be tired. We’ve talked to our doctor who told us it’s not unusual for a woman to experience this after childbirth. I try to be patient and understanding because I know this is not my Maggie, but sometimes when I try to be sympathetic and helpful she’ll just snap at me and I withdraw to my cave and another glass of scotch. Hopefully this will pass soon.

On a brighter note we’re giving both sets of parents a special Christmas gift this year, an all expense paid trip to Hawaii. They can go anytime after the first of the year. All they have to do is tell us when and what island(s) and we’ll make all the arrangements. Although our parents are good friends they’ll probably go separately since my folks like to hang out on the beach while Maggie’s parents golf and shop. They’ve done so much for both of us and their grandkids we want to do something special for them.

The rise of business here in the Valley is in direct contrast to most of the country which is dealing with a recession. High unemployment, high interest rates and high inflation are a terrible threesome and I keep waiting for things to turn around. I’m afraid we’re going to have a lot more bank failures thanks to the recession and deregulation of the banking system. I heard a stat that was indicative of the problem we face when a Savings and Loan can leverage $2 million into $1.3 billion in loans. Unbelievable!

I hope all my talk about business doesn’t bore you but it’s the world in which I live. As always, wish you the best.

Dear Tess,

It’s been an extremely difficult year for Maggie and me. First, we tragically discovered our little Ben has autism. Then I did the unthinkable and had an affair that threatened our marriage.

Soon after Ben was born we noticed rather obvious differences in behavior between him and Caroline at the same age. We assumed boys were just different as are all children. We didn’t think it was anything abnormal. Then the different signs kept escalating and Ben’s behavior began to worry us. Sadly, the word “no” became the word we had to insert in front of his behavior: no big smiles, no facial expressions and no gestures. He also rarely made eye contact, didn’t respond to his name or our voices, and didn’t make noise to get our attention.

We initially addressed the problems with Ben’s pediatrician who, at first, didn’t think the issues were abnormal or would be permanent. Several months later,
when things became worse we again visited our pediatrician. This time Dr. Steinlen referred us to a specialist, Dr. Winston Miller who ran an exhaustive series of tests on Ben.

I’ll never forget Dr. Miller’s words after examining Ben. “It appears to be autism. Unfortunately, there is no cure at the present time.” Maggie and I were devastated.

We sought a second opinion and drove to LA to meet with one of the world’s foremost experts at the UCLA Medical Center, Dr. Ruth Weisman. Unfortunately her diagnosis was the same as Dr. Miller’s. Dr. Weisman also shared more information. Autism is reported in about 1 in 10,000 children although that number may be deceiving since many parents probably never have the behavioral problems of their children properly diagnosed. Autism also has a 3:1 ratio of boys over girls and it wasn’t until the last few years that autism was classified as a developmental disorder.

Unbelievably, in the 60’s and 70’s treatment was all over the map and even included hallucinogens such as LSD, electric shock, and even pain and punishment. Thank God this is 1983 and autism is now treated with behavioral therapy and the integration of highly controlled learning environments. Dr. Weisman referred us to a colleague closer to home at the University of California San Francisco.

I’ve never felt worse about anything and it certainly changed my perspective on what’s really important in life. There is no escaping the reality that our precious son has a behavioral disorder for which there’s no cure.

This horrific situation also put a big crack in my relationship with Maggie. We became more and more distant, much worse than what we experienced during her postpartum depression. To escape reality I started to drink, more and more. While I like a drink to relax when I get home it increased to a couple of drinks, then three and even four. I drank to escape the pain but all it did was cause greater pain.

My behavior turned from self-destruction to the possible destruction of my marriage and family when one evening I stopped at a local bar to have a drink before going home. I spotted a very attractive woman who looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her face. As I looked over at her, she smiled and then it dawned on me. She was the gal I met with Gary over three years ago who playfully put her hand in my front pants pocket. Only this night I wasn’t anxious to get home.

When I approached her table she greeted me with, “I remember you. You’re Gary’s friend. It’s been a long time.” I ordered her another Cosmo and myself another scotch.

I was shocked to find her very bright and also very forthright. She had gone back to college at San Jose State and was of all things, a business major. She enjoyed bright men who would pay her directly for her company. She claimed to be very selective because she could afford to be. She promised there would never be any complications, only a discreet rendezvous. Her time was not cheap and neither was she. She claimed her name really was Hope.

Twenty minutes later we were having wild sex in a nearby hotel. Probably twenty-five years old, she was not only beautiful but also very fit. It had been more than fourteen years since I had been with a woman other than Maggie. Hell, I’ve only had sex with three women in my life. In thirty minutes we were finished. At the time I rationalized it was an adventure and another way for me to escape all the pain. I gave her $600 for her time and another $50 for cab fare. She gave me her number and I left her with a hug.

My mood changed 180
^o
before I even got into my car. The guilt was overwhelming. I felt like shit. What the hell had I done? Was I going crazy? I sat in my car for ten minutes, trembling and crying. I’ve never been more ashamed of anything in my life. I didn’t know what to do? Maggie knows me so well and usually notices everything. Do I tell her what happened, or keep my mouth shut? I had absolutely no possible justification or explanation. Once I started my car I wished the drive home was five hours instead of five minutes. Before I got home I cowardly decided to keep quiet and see a shrink or therapist.

Thank God Maggie was asleep when I got home and I couldn’t wait to take a shower. I didn’t sleep that night replaying the sordid evening over and over again. In the morning I lied to Maggie about where I was and quickly left for the office hoping my abrupt behavior didn’t raise any red flags.

First thing I did once I got to the office was call my friend Gary. I asked him to meet me for lunch. I had Gary
swear he’d keep what I was about to tell him absolutely confidential. He was the one person I knew who could relate and he did. He gave me the name of the therapist who had helped him and suggested I didn’t wait as long as he did to see him.

Back in the office I closed my office door, something I rarely do and called the therapist to set up an appointment. That was three months ago, and although I continue in therapy, I still haven’t told Maggie. Unfortunately, the situation at home hasn’t changed. My therapist keeps insisting I bring Maggie with me but I haven’t had the courage to do it.

Tess, for the first time in my life I’m lost and riddled with guilt I can’t escape. I apologize for venting all this on you and sharing my despicable behavior but for whatever reason I feel like I can tell you anything.

Dear Tess,

Things are better now but not before I went through a self-caused hell.

I’m blessed Maggie is the most wonderful, most forgiving partner in the world. She’s much more than I deserve. We finally went to therapy together and unbelievably she took responsibility for much of my behavior. I still can’t believe she would do that. She said her postpartum depression drove us apart and Ben’s autism added even more stress to our relationship.

Part of therapy was an agreement I made with myself and Maggie. I finally came to terms with my drinking problem and agreed to limit myself to one drink a day. If I couldn’t do that I agreed to totally stop drinking and go to Alcoholics Anonymous. Maggie and I still go to therapy twice a month to discuss our issues and resolve them before they escalate. As a result of the therapy we’re communicating much, much better.
I’ve also stopped drinking except for maybe a glass of red wine at dinner. I really don’t miss it and realize my drinking is directly related to my stress level.

I can’t believe Caroline is five. She continues to be a truly amazing, gifted child and is getting ready to start kindergarten. Sometimes I think her favorite words are why and how. Her vocabulary is probably better than mine and she reads more than Maggie and I combined. Her favorite game while we’re driving is to solve math problems in her head. Her most endearing quality is how she protects her brother and the patience she has with him. There’s no question she’s Maggie’s daughter.

My precious son Ben will be three in December and remains both my biggest responsibility and concern in life. He seems to respond best to Caroline while he’s aloof to most other children. His world is just not social and speech is difficult. Maggie takes him for individual therapy once a week and to a special class for autistic preschoolers twice a week. I’ve made it a priority to stay on top of all the research and studies being done and hope one day there will be a cure. Maggie and I established a special fund to insure he will always have the means to be taken care of if anything should happen to us. Ironically, Ben has taught me more about life than anyone. One day I hope to share so much with my son.