Waters Fall

by Becky Doughty

  Once on his own turf, he quite literally swept her off her feet, destroying any last vestiges of her defenses, and she cried bitter tears of defeat, mingled with sweet relief, as she lay in his arms at the end of the evening. It was where she wanted to be more than anything in that moment. She felt covered by his big body, both physically and emotionally, and she was having a hard time remembering why she'd left him in the first place.

  “Why are you crying now, my Isolde?” He murmured softly against her hair. “Although I admit I'm almost afraid to ask.”

  She turned in his arms to face him, smiled sadly, and wiped the tears from her face. “I missed you, Tristan.”

  “And I missed you.” He replied matter-of-factly. “You're not leaving again, you know.” He ran his fingertips along her hairline, down the column of her neck, following the curve of her collarbone. Suddenly his fingers stilled.

  “What's this?” He propped himself up on one elbow and pushed her hair away from the bruise that was still visible at the base of her neck. “Are those teeth marks?” His incredulous tone made her flinch, and she reached up to cover it with her hand.

  “It's nothing, Tristan. Leave it alone.”

  “This is not nothing. Someone bit you! Did your husband do that to you?” He sat up and flipped the sheet back, exposing her whole body to his scrutiny. “What else did he do to you? And you'd even consider choosing him over me?” His hands ran along the contours of her body, and even though she tried to push them away, he was persistent. “Look at these bruises!” He was livid. ”What did he do to you? Did he rape you? I'll kill the little....”

  “Stop it!” Nora sat up, yanking the covers back over her. “No one is going to kill anyone. You guys are all alike. All you want to do is go out and kill something. What will that solve?”

  “First of all, we guys are not all alike,” he growled, his voice ratcheting around her. “I would never mark your body like that. Never. Do you hear me?” He waited until she nodded. “And I'll tell you what it will solve. If I kill your husband, he’ll be out of the picture, and you'll be freed up to take on a real man.”

  “Except that you'll be sharing your room with a cellmate, Tristan.” Nora interjected sarcastically.

  She knew he didn’t like her sarcasm, and his devil-may-care response confirmed it. “That’s only if I get caught. There are plenty of ways to do away with a body, though.”

  She stood up and began putting her clothes back on. “You know what? This is ridiculous! Why on earth did I come back here?”

  “You weren't complaining a few minutes ago.” He lay back against the pillows and flashed a wide and cocky grin at her. “Where do you think you're going, woman?”

  She dressed quickly, angrily, and he just watched, until she stood, hands on her hips, glaring at him from the foot of the bed. “I don’t know what I was thinking coming here. How could I be so stupid? I'm leaving. For good this time. I don't want to cry anymore. I don't want to lie anymore. I'm tired of running around like a chicken with my head cut off, trying to figure out what I want out of life. I'm tired of me! I, I, I! That's all I do anymore—look out for me.”

  She was spinning out of control, no longer caring that the tears were pouring steadily from her eyes, her voice rising as she voiced thoughts she’d never given air to until now. “What about my husband? So what if he's got issues. Doesn't he have the right to expect his wife to come home to him every night? To be faithful? And my children? Don't they deserve a mother who puts them first, who would sacrifice her own life for theirs?”

  She pointed at him. “And you. What about you? Don't you deserve a woman all to yourself? Don't you want that, Tristan? How can this be okay with you, sharing me with another man?”

  She spread her arms wide and stomped her foot. “I have wounded every person who is precious to me, including you, and I'm tired of it. I'm a self-centered, self-absorbed wretch, and I will only make you miserable.” She hiccupped and sobbed at the same time, as if emphasizing her point.

  “You only make me miserable when you leave me.” Tristan spoke quietly, pushing himself upright, the sheet settling around his waist. “I love you, and I want you to be with me.” Oh, he was a beautiful man, with beautiful words.

  “Love? Love is not enough.” Nora shook her head. “It’s not enough, Tristan.”

  “Well, what more do you want from me? You have my heart, you have my home, you even have my studio, and that’s more than I’ve ever given to any woman. You’re already a part of everything in my life. I’ll take your kids, too, if that’s what you’re waiting for me to say. You just surprised me the other day when you talked about them moving in here so suddenly. But I’ve thought about it, and I know we can make it work, the four of us. Come on. Let’s give this thing a chance, okay?”

  “No, Tristan. I’m not staying. I can’t stay. It isn’t me here, not the real me, anyway. The one plugged into your world is a fantasy. You have no idea what it means to be a dad – you don’t even know my kids. And I don’t want you to just “take” them so you can have me. That would be horrible for everyone, especially you. It can’t work.”

  “Why not?” He was frustrated, hurt by her words. “People make it work all the time and I’m more than willing to try. What else do you want?”

  “Oh, Tristan. It's just not right, that’s why. It's not right. It’s not right. Oh, God, I hope it’s not too late.” Her voice faded, and she bowed her head, wrapping her arms around her ribcage, as she began to weep quietly.

  “My Isolde. Come here.” He reached out for her, but she stepped back, shaking her head. She spoke so quietly that he had to lean forward to hear her.

  “I... I miss God, Tristan.” Saying the words brought a sense of stillness like she hadn’t known in so long. “I miss God. I've conveniently left Him out of our relationship, but that's what else I want, Tristan. I want God back. He’s not in this thing between us.” She waved a hand between them. “I can’t have both of you.”

  “I can take you to church, Nora. Why didn't you say so in the first place? We can be a church-going family.” He chuckled as if the solution was something so simple.

  “No, Tristan. That’s not how it works.” Nora smiled ruefully and shook her head. She turned and dropped to the edge of the bed, her legs no longer able to support her. She let him slide down next to her and take her in his arms, but her mind was made up.

  “I’m sorry, Tristan. I’m sorry for not being the right person for you. It’s not you, it’s me. I—I can’t stay with Jake, either.”

  She was completely moved into the cottage by the end of that week. The kids watched her and Jake with wide eyes, but took their cues from the adults, and avoided any discussions about the reasons behind the changes that were going on in their home. It was a tense, difficult time, but everyone seemed to be on their best behavior,and trying extra hard to get along. Nora cried herself to sleep alone in her antique, wrought-iron trundle bed almost every night, the stream outside weeping along with her. She suffered a complete and utter misery, but was somehow relieved to find that the tears were back. The well had not run dry, after all.

  26

  The time had come. School had been out for a few weeks and the children were beginning to ask questions.

  “When are we going camping? It's already the middle of June and it's going to be too hot to fish if we don't go soon.” Leslie, a natural when it came to stream fishing, could hardly wait to get out into the wild, and Nora couldn't help but wonder how many more years she'd be this excited to spend time with her family. Once we drop the bomb, we may get zip, zero, none more years.

  “I need to go shopping, Dad. My fishing vest is too small. I can't hold everything in it.” Felix dug his vest out the first day of summer vacation every year and practiced wearing it; “breaking it in,” he called it. “I'm making plans to catch the biggest fish this summer, and I have to get into character.”

  “You're going up against a champion, bro. Ain't gonna happen.” Leslie
was justifiably confident. Even Jake rarely outdid her at the river.

  “Just wait and see, Lester, my snarly sister. Just wait and see.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and nodded his head, as though he had some secret weapon he was keeping mum about.

  “I'll wait and see, all right. I'll wait with baited breath so I can see you go down in flames again.”

  “All I can tell you is this…,” he paused for dramatic affect. “Just wait and see.”

  The kids had finally gone to bed, much later than usual, even for a Saturday night during summer vacation, and she and Jake sat in the living room across from each other, sharing a few rare moments of peace between them. It was dark, and the world was settling into stillness outside. Tomorrow was Sunday, and Nora was looking forward to the day off. She’d worked with a new client that morning, Sandra Madison, and knew it wasn’t going to be an easy week. The woman was demanding and entitled, but with their uncertain future, Nora was afraid to turn down any work at this time.

  “Maybe we should wait until after we go camping, Nor.” Jake didn’t look at her when he suggested it, as though he was measuring the words as they came out of his mouth. “There's probably never going to be the perfect time to talk to the kids about us, but this trip is pretty important to them.” Then he did look at her, a wry grin on his face. “If you think you can handle being with me twenty-four-seven without killing me.”

  “I’m more worried about you being able to handle being around me without killing me,” she chuckled, trying to keep the mood light. “If you’re up for it, then I'm game, too. I'd love to do it one more time as a family. You know, one last huzzah.”

  She wondered if she sounded too callous, but she couldn’t help it. She knew they were just putting off the inevitable, that no matter when, or even what, they told the kids, life would forever change for them. But she really did want one more sweet memory to tide them over. “Do you really think we can pull it off?”

  Jake turned away from her to look out the window, not acknowledging her question. She saw a flicker of something cross his face, and had the grace to be ashamed. She didn’t want to cause him any more pain; she was so tired of hurting people. She set her teacup down and lay her head back on the couch cushions behind her, blinking back the emotions welling up inside her. Suddenly, she was beyond weary, and unable to resist any longer, she closed her eyes and tears slid silently down the sides of her face and into her hair as the stillness stretched out between them.

  “Stay here tonight. I want you to stay tonight.” He spoke softly, gently. She didn’t respond. She didn’t need to; all she had to do was not leave.

  “You don’t have to sleep with me. That’s not what I’m asking. I just want you to stay here where I know you’re…close to us.”

  She opened her eyes and found him watching her, leaning forward in the big chair he was in, elbows on his knees, empty coffee cup held between his two hands. She could see his bare toes curling in the carpet under his feet; his toenails were neatly trimmed. It suddenly dawned on her that he wasn’t asking her if she was okay, that he hadn’t asked in weeks, and that made her cry even more.

  “Look, Nora. I don’t know what we’re going to do. This whole thing terrifies me. I don’t like admitting to anyone that things are broken, but they are, and I think we need help.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his next words coming with obvious effort. “Will you go talk to Pastor Rob with me before we make any final decisions?”

  Still she said nothing, but for different reasons. She hadn’t been to church in nearly six months, and she knew Jake still showed up every Sunday on his own, taking the kids to Sunday School. Once or twice he’d tell her that someone had asked how she was, but most of the time no one seemed to even notice her absence. Their small group had moved to a home on the other side of town after the first of the year, and they’d stopped going to that altogether, her long hours their excuse. Only one of the ladies had called Nora, but that was to ask for prayer because the woman’s husband was struggling with his pornography addiction again, not to ask about their absence.

  She simply didn’t feel like talking to a pastor. She didn’t feel like talking to anyone, really, but a pastor who would give her formulaic answers with no understanding of the situation was more than she could handle. Even Vicky with her ‘pray first’ therapy put her off. A lot of good that had done. In fact, praying for her husband had sent him right out to the bar and into the arms of his waitress. No, she wasn’t interested in talking to a pastor.

  She wanted to talk directly to God, but only if He would talk back, and He seemed nowhere to be found.

  “I don’t know, Jake. It’s been months and no one even notices we’re gone. Not that I’m waiting for them to notice or take care of us, but we’ve been members there for sixteen years. You’d think someone would start asking questions. You’d think someone would notice that you show up alone every Sunday. You’d think someone would bother asking if things are okay. Pastor Rob married us, for goodness sake. We saw him every single week, and I’m assuming you still do. Doesn’t he even notice that I’m not there?”

  “I don’t know, Nor. I don’t know why no one asks. Everyone is too busy with their own issues, I suppose. But I don’t want to give up without a fight, and I think we have to talk to someone. Do you have any other suggestions?” Jake was staring down into his mug as if looking for options there.

  Nora shook her head slowly, once again considering and then ruling out Vicky. The woman had faithfully called her every week all through March, then Nora had politely, but firmly, asked her to take her off of her call list. Vicky had agreed, encouraging her to call if she ever needed to talk. She promised to continue praying for her and said goodbye. To Nora’s relief, the woman had remained true to her word and not called again. Whether or not she continued praying for her seemed irrelevant at this point. “I don’t know. Let me think about it for a couple of days, okay? Maybe talking to Pastor Rob would be okay, but I just need to think about it. In the meantime, if you want to, feel free to call him and talk to him yourself.”

  “I don’t want to go alone.” Jake looked up at her, his eyes wide and frustrated. “What good will that do?”

  Before she could stop herself, the words were out, but she wasn’t sure if she was more frustrated at her husband, or about the church family who didn’t miss them. “Man up, Jake. You don’t need me there holding your hand. Go alone. Tell him the truth about us, about yourself, about me. I don’t care.”

  Jake got up and headed toward the kitchen. Nora sat for some time before she, too, took her cup to the sink. “I’m going home.”

  “This is home, Nora.”

  “Whatever, Jake.”

  “This is home, Nora,” he repeated. His fingers curled into a fist, and although he didn’t do it hard, he thumped his knuckles on the counter beside him in time to his words. “This is your home. This is home.” His voice rose as he spoke more adamantly. “This is your home, my home, our children’s home. This is our home. Why are you trying to destroy it?”

  Nora picked up her purse and walked out. Would things ever get easier for them?

  ~ ~ ~

  The entrance to the cottage was lit by the white stringed lights she’d tacked up under the eaves of the little patio. It looked inviting and peaceful to her weary soul, and the sound of the water gurgling close by made her feel undone in a good way. Here she could let down her guard. No thinking, no deciding, no faking, no worrying. She could simply shut down.

  As tired as she was, she knew it would be a long time before sleep rescued her from her plight, so she showered, put on some comfortable pajamas, and put the kettle on for tea. She tried to read while she waited, but she couldn’t focus on the words, so she just sat, staring out the window into the darkness outside.

  Alone in her little sanctuary, isolated and lonely, bitter and frightened, she sat, while out there beyond the boundary line of her little plot, others were hurt and wounded and in turmoil be
cause of her. Maybe if she just stayed here forever, they’d eventually forget about her. The honeysuckle growing along the front porch would creep slowly up and over the cottage, the jasmine filling in the empty spaces. The stream would, over time, overflow its banks and wear away at the river rock foundation, and bit by bit, the little house would float away, taking her with it.

  “Oh, good grief, Nora. Snap out of it.” She grabbed a quilt off the slipper chair she’d been sitting in and headed out to sit by the water, hoping to be soothed into a more relaxed state.

  She listened to the sound of the night creatures busy with their lives all around her. Anywhere there’s water, there’s life, and her little section of the stream teemed with it. Critters rustled in the vines covering the opposite bank and ambling up over the fence beyond it. There was a chittering in the branches of the mulberry tree arching over her head, and she could see the silhouette of her neighbor’s cat as it sat near the water’s edge, focusing intently on something in the shrubs close by.

  Nora reached over and let her fingers trail in the water, closing her eyes as she imagined once again being swept along this little stream. What would it be like to just float away and disappear into nothing? She wasn’t really entertaining thoughts of death. She just had an overwhelming desire to stop living for a while, at least until the things she’d messed up so badly were set to right again. Then she could just step back into life and pick up again where she left off. Was that too much to ask?

  “God? Are You there?” She whispered, knowing she couldn’t be heard by any human ears, not above the sound of the water. “Is that too much to ask? Can you just let me hang out here, in the shelter of the rock, until everything is back to normal?”

  He didn’t answer in words, but something in the music of the brook seemed to shift subtly. A sighing breeze swept a few leaves across the rocks at her feet and she waited, listening for something else, something more specific, but that was all. She had to smile at her overactive imagination; even so, she felt comforted in some small way.