Many nights, Allison would call to speak to Heide. I would answer the phone and exchange a brief greeting, but Allison’s focus was always on her. When her contact ceased two nights before she was to fly home, I was surprised. Heide didn’t appear to notice this development, likely because she was so focused on Allison’s return. In the end, I chose to dismiss it.
When my cell phone rang at noon on the Saturday we were due to pick Allison up from the airport, my nerves were raw from months of disconnection and weeks of strife. My wife’s name and smiling photo flashed across the display as I answered it.
I immediately heard her crying. “Allison?” Dread pumped through my heart. She wasn’t prone to hysterics. “What is it? What’s the matter?”
Allison struggled to regain her composure. “I missed my flight.”
I took in a deep breath and allowed my relief to conquer my fear. Her extreme reaction to such an annoyance was unusual for her. I wasn’t sure how to continue, but I was grateful she had contacted me with the problem. The first step was to calm her down.
“It’s okay,” I told her. “Don’t worry. We’ll get it figured out. I’ll call the airline and get you on another plane.”
“No!” Allison’s heightened pitch revealed her panic. “I don’t want you to do that.”
Confused, I made a second attempt at reassurance. “You’re upset. You’ve been away from home for a while and had a stressful morning. It’s the least I can do.”
There was a heavy pause, followed by a shaky breath. “You’re not understanding me, Jack.” The level of irritation lacing Allison’s voice sent my own blood pressure soaring.
“You’re right about that,” I snapped. “What don’t I understand? You missed your flight. You called me upset. I’m trying to help you solve this, so you can feel better and come back home. What else am I missing here?”
On the other end of the line, there was complete silence. Allison had quelled her crying during my outburst.
“Are you still there?” I asked.
“I can’t live in Oregon.” Her statement was so quiet, it took a few seconds for me to understand what she’d said.
I rubbed my forehead in aggravation. “What are you talking about?”
“I never left for the airport, Jack.”
It was my turn to be silent. I waited for Allison to say something—anything that made some goddamned sense.
“Please talk to me,” she pleaded. “Don’t shut down now.”
“Why not? You’re shutting down on me. On us. Why wouldn’t you go to the airport?” I asked, trying to keep my thoughts rational, but the hurt dominated my voice.
“It wasn’t a choice. I just couldn’t do it.” She burst into a fresh round of sobs. “I can’t leave here. Not even for Heide. Something’s wrong with me.”
Her emotions were all over the place, as were mine. I was worried and angry, but something was happening to her that neither of us had dealt with before.
“What do you mean? Something’s wrong? If there’s something you need to say, please tell me.”
“I don’t know if I can,” she confessed. “I’m scared, and I know I’m upsetting you,” she said.
I gathered my courage and softened my tone. “I can hear how miserable you are. I’m still your husband and you called me. Tell me what’s wrong. Let me help you, Allison.”
Moments drifted by, but when she spoke it was as though her mental floodgates had opened. “Everything hurts,” she blurted. “I can’t stop crying. I’m scared. I can’t stand the thought of eating even though I know I need to. I can’t sleep at night. I have no energy to walk out the door.”
“Is it depression?”
“I think so. I just can’t shake it. I can’t relax. And the closer the time came to leave here, the stronger those feelings became. This morning, I woke up from a deep sleep and I was already crying. Tears were running down my face. My heart was pounding. I woke up afraid.”
Hearing Allison’s admission was painful, but her pain was far worse than my own. I understood a mere fraction of her agony, and yet it was enough to render me helpless. I could do nothing more from our home in Bend than to offer her words of comfort.
“You were right not to get on the plane.” I angrily wiped the tears from my eyes.
“Okay,” she breathed. “Yes. Good.”
I sniffled. “You made the right decision.”
“Now what do we do?”
“You should have Liz take you to the doctor. Don’t put this off, have her take you to the emergency room as soon as we get off the phone. Do you need me to talk to her? What can I do to help you?”
“I can do it,” she told me. She had processed my acceptance and some of her strength returned. “I’ll ask her to take me, but…” Allison’s voice drifted off as we both realized the inevitable.
“You’ll have to explain to her what’s happening,” I said, finishing her thought, and allowed us both a moment to absorb the impending public revelation of our fragile marriage.
“I understand,” I told her in a voice that I prayed was confident enough. “You should be honest with your family. It’s the best thing for you.”
“I need to stay here, in Baltimore, for a bit longer. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll come back next weekend. I’ll be okay by then.”
She was seeking some version of control, and although I wanted to be respectful of her words, I knew she was offering a guarantee she couldn’t deliver.
“Things are fine here,” I said. “I have everything under control. I’m not going anywhere, so take all the time you need. Don’t think about this stuff right now. Just get to the hospital and see a doctor.”
“Okay.”
“Can I ask something of you?”
“What?”
“Keep talking to me. Don’t cut me out. Keep me updated on what’s happening.”
“Sure.”
“I care about what happens to you. I always will.” I should have told her I loved her, but she would have been suspicious of the sentiment. She needed to seek treatment, not question my motives.
“Thanks.”
“Is Liz there now?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll let you go so you can tell her what’s happening. You promise to go right to her?”
“Yes.”
“I have Liz’s number, so I’ll call her this afternoon. She can update me on how everything’s going. I just want you to focus on making yourself better. Please.”
“I will. I’m sorry, Jack.”
“I’m sorry, too. I really am.”
Allison uttered an urgent goodbye and ended the call. I stared at my phone for a minute, feeling as though she’d deserted the conversation before one of us had a second chance to reconsider the impromptu plan.
The sound of Heide opening and closing her dresser drawers drew my attention. Here was my next impending calamity. Heide had jumped out of bed that morning, her spirits high with the excitement of welcoming her mom home. Now, I was going to have to tell her that Allison wasn’t coming home yet.
I set my phone down on the counter and entered the living room from the kitchen. I paused behind the sofa and gripped it for support as I turned my head toward the hallway that led to her bedroom.
“Heide!” I winced when the barking sound of my own voice echoed down the corridor. I hadn’t intended to sound cross. I waited and watched for my daughter to appear, wondering how she’d interpreted my mood.
She bolted through her doorway in a flash and ran full speed into me. She wrapped her small arms around my waist in greeting, oblivious to my tension. I reciprocated her hug with bittersweet expectations.
“Is it time to go?” Heide’s beaming smile was always beautiful. I hated being the one to make it disappear. I placed a palm against her small cheek.
“Come sit with me on the sofa,” I said, making a deliberate effort to rein in my harshness. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Heide let go of me and dashed
around the couch. She leaped onto the cushions with a cartoonish flair. As I took my seat, she bounced nonstop.
I rested my palm on her knee, hoping to capture her focus. “You’re very excited,” I began, “but we have to be serious right now.”
Heide was always a good listener, and she ceased her movements.
Knowing I could only capture a six-year-old’s attention for so long, I jumped right into the conversation. “I have some bad news.”
Heide’s smiled faded. “What is it?”
“Mom isn’t coming home today.”
Heide tilted her head as she understood the sudden shift of the day’s events. “Why not?”
I didn’t know what I’d say as I answered her, but I was as careful as possible.
“When Mom woke up this morning, she wasn’t feeling well enough to go to the airport. She just called to let us know, and she’s upset about not seeing you this afternoon.”
Heide’s faced registered a mixture of sadness, concern and ire.
“When I’m sick, Mom always tells me to get some sleep. She says sleep is the best cure. Why couldn’t she just sleep on the plane?”
I shook my head. “If she could have, I know she’d do it for you, but I’m afraid that wasn’t possible.” I took Heide’s tiny hand in mine. “Aunt Liz is going to take Mom to the doctor right away, so she can start feeling better.”
Heide crossed her arms as her remaining traces of sadness transformed into irritation. “She could’ve slept on the plane, and then she’d be home and see the doctor here.”
“I know you’re disappointed, Heide. I am, too, but we both need to remember something.”
“What?” she asked sulkily.
“That the most important thing right now is for Mom to do whatever she needs to feel normal again.”
“How long is it going to take?” She continued to pout.
“Heide…” The tone of my voice was disapproving but controlled.
Heide reacted to my change in mood, and her response was quiet and sad. “She’s been gone two weeks, Dad. That’s a long time.”
“It is a long time, and you miss her, and she misses you just as much. Maybe more. The truth is, I don’t know how much longer she’ll be in Maryland, but I do know that Mom needs to rest. The more she can rest, the better she’ll feel to travel again. Can you understand that?”
Heide stuck out a lower lip to go with her crossed arms. “Yes,” she mumbled.
“I’m sure you want to know when Mom will be coming home, but I don’t want to tell you it will be in a day or two. Or even next weekend, because the truth is we don’t know what the doctor is going to tell her yet. Can you understand that I don’t want to say something to make you feel better, only to disappoint you again?”
“I guess so.”
“All I can do right now is promise I’ll tell you what’s happening as soon as I talk to Mom again.”
Heide’s head dipped down to stare at the floor.
“I understand you’re upset. Is there anything I can do?”
Heide shook her head.
“Do you have any more questions about Mom?”
“Not right now.”
“I’ll call Aunt Liz later today to see if there’s any news about Mom’s visit to the doctor. For now, we have free time this afternoon. Is there something you want to do? Someplace you want to go?”
“I can’t think of anything.”
“Do you want to sit here with me or go back to your room for a little bit?”
“Go to my room.”
I was helpless to turn Heide’s mood around. I wanted to cheer her up, but in the end, she stomped back to her room to work through her emotions.
I left my phone sitting on the kitchen counter. I kept busy but avoided occupying my time with significant projects. I wanted to be able to walk away from a household chore at a moment’s notice should Heide change her mind about sitting in her room. I checked on her several times, but she was content to keep company with her stuffed animals.
As afternoon gave way to evening in Baltimore, I decided it was time to check on Allison. I retrieved my phone, sat down at the kitchen table and called Liz. As I waited for her to answer, I glanced out the window.
“Hello, Jack.” Liz’s greeting was void of its usual bubbly tone, but at least she was civil.
“Hello, Liz. How is Allison doing? Were you able to take her to the ER?”
“We’re still here. There was a bit of a wait to see a doctor. Can you hold on for a second?”
“Sure.”
Liz pulled away from the phone and told Allison that she was stepping outside to speak with me. She promised to return within a few minutes. I strained to hear my wife’s voice over the line but was disappointed when Liz walked away. She walked through a couple of doors and then the dull roar of traffic filled the line as she exited the hospital.
“All right,” she finally said. “We can talk now.”
“How is she?”
“She’s a mess. Worked herself into a terrible migraine.”
“Damn.”
“She had to curl up in a corner of the waiting room for an hour or so. She was crying and puking and trying to be subtle about it.”
“That’s awful.”
“She’s in a dark exam room now. They put her on IV fluids and gave her pain medication. She’s still and quiet. The meds are making her drowsy. The doctor wants her to have a CT scan, just to make sure nothing else is going on. We’re waiting on the radiologist.”
“Okay.” I let this last syllable drift away, on the verge of telling Liz everything I could. I was willing to say anything in that moment to help Allison recover. But Liz beat me to the punch.
“Allison told me in the car that her visit isn’t a vacation.”
“What did she call it?” I asked.
“A separation.” I heard the sisterly protectiveness in Liz’s declaration and prepared for an onslaught.
“I wish that wasn’t the case.”
Liz’s response was a slight sniffle, so I pressed on.
“I’m as worried about Allison as you are. I’m not going to be an asshole here. I want her to feel better. I want her to come home.”
“Before you say something you might regret, Allison didn’t give me the specifics.”
I was grateful for this important revelation. Even amid severe distress, she’d kept our deepest secrets confidential.
“If I’m being honest with you,” Liz continued, “I’m not surprised.”
Here was an opportunity I’d never considered. “Why not?”
“You’re not a bad person. It’s just…” Liz’s voice faded away.
“Just what?” I pressed without sarcasm or demand. I wanted to know what perception someone on the outside might have of our marriage.
“It’s like you two are still dating. You’re a couple, but it’s like you’re trying to figure one another out and trying to adjust to each other. I was at your wedding, but even after all these years, I still have to remind myself that you two are in a marriage. You’ve always been two individuals, rather than a whole.”
“I see.”
“I’m not trying to be mean. It’s a deep question for me to answer in the middle of the ER, watching my sister have a breakdown. I’ve never seen her like this, Jack. Have you?”
“No. I haven’t, but we’ve been in trouble for a while now.”
“How long?”
“A year for sure. Maybe longer. After hearing your description of us, maybe always.”
An awkward pause extended coast-to-coast, and I decided to divert our conversation. “If they’re sending Allison for a CT scan, will she be admitted to the hospital?”
“Only if they find something. They’re going to stabilize her and then discharge her. Once they let her go, I’ll take her back to my house and put her right to bed.”
“Good.”
“You know how these headaches take her down. She’ll need a couple of days to sleep and
recover. I’ll let her do that, but I’m going to call my doctor on Monday and make her an appointment. We’ll take everything else from there. She misses Heide, but she told me she doesn’t want Heide to see her until she feels more in control.”
“How much control does she have right now?”
“Little to none. It’s scary, Jack. She’s not in charge of what’s happening to her.”
“All right. There’s not much I can do from here, but if anything comes up that is overwhelming for her, let me know. I haven’t given up on our marriage. I do want her to get better. I want to do what I can for her. And for you, Liz.”
There was a significant pause. When she responded, her voice was gentle and forgiving. “I understand. I’m sorry this is happening.”
“Me, too, but Allison needs you. If this was inevitable, I’m glad it happened to her while you were around. This has been building up for a while. Maybe she went to Baltimore because she wanted to feel more at home.”
“I’ll take care of her. I promise.”
“Thank you. Please tell her that I’m thinking about her nonstop. That I’m worried about her. If I’m the one upsetting her like this, I don’t want her to be afraid of me. Please try to make her understand that. If she only wants to speak to Heide, I’m not going to interfere.”
“How is Heide doing?”
“She’s upset that Allison didn’t come home today, but I think she understands there was no way around that. If Allison asks, let her know that I told Heide she wasn’t feeling well and nothing more.”
“I will. I don’t mean to cut you off. But we’re waiting for the doctor to come back and I don’t want to miss him in case there’s a development.”
“I understand.”
“I’ll call you if something comes up, but if not, I’ll wait until we’re back home.”
“Sounds good, Liz. Thanks again for everything.”
“Bye, Jack.”
KATHLEEN DIDN’T return to the office for the rest of the week, and she kept a low profile. The likelihood of her accepting a job offer in Colorado increased with each passing day. The longer she was away, the more she was considering a future without me. My days and evenings rolled by with sluggish dread. I missed the springtime when everything had been so happy. I missed Kathleen and understood that if she moved to Denver, I would always miss her.
Chaos (Constellation Book 2) Page 11
