Jason sighed like he dreaded even bringing up the subject. “But over the last few years she’s been talking kids,” he said, a bit of frustration seeping into his tone. “I’m not ready for that. Not sure I’ll ever be. I never thought I’d make a good dad, but yesterday, at my nephew’s ball game, the kid and I actually had a pretty cool time together. I was beginning to have doubts about my no kids policy, but looking back on what happened last night, I know I’m not father material. When I came home from the kid’s ball game she,” he paused for a moment, trying to word exactly what she’d done, “she just,” he shook his head, “basically she attacked me.”
The doctor raised an eyebrow. “Verbally,” Jason assured him.
“And what brought that about?” Dr. Throckmorton asked calmly.
“I have no idea,” Jason sighed. “None at all.”
The doctor just stared at him as if he was waiting for something… perhaps the truth. Finally, Jason sighed and threw up his hands before admitting, “I get one little credit card without asking for her permission, and you’d think I slapped her mother.” Jason thought for moment then gave a satisfied chuckle as he added, “Truth be told I’ve wanted to do that very thing on several occasions.” The doctor gave an amused smile. “Anyways,” Jason said, getting back on track. “It was just a little communication breakdown, but she goes off the deep end on me.”
There was a brief moment of silence before the doctor leaned forward in his chair. “So what exactly did your wife say in your ‘little communication breakdown’ that prompted you to come see me today?”
Jason just gave him the simple honest answer. “She told me I should.”
A surprised look crossed Dr. Throckmorton’s face, along with a slight smile he struggled to hide. He seemed to be finding humor in Jason’s misfortune. Trying to stifle a chuckle and sound professional the doctor asked, “And what brought on your wife’s not so subtle suggestion that you might be, um, what shall we say? – crazy?”
Jason smiled sheepishly as he replied, “She said she was through trying to figure me out.”
Dr. Throckmorton had managed to keep his facial expressions under semi-control up until that point, but with Jason’s last words he snorted as the strain of holding back his amusement became too much to bear. For several moments, he bounced up and down with silent laughter.
Finally, when he got things back under a bit of control, in a voice straining to sound normal, the doctor asked, “And that is when she suggested that you needed mental help?”
“Yep,” Jason responded, rubbing his chin and slightly shaking his head, still having a hard time believing she’d go as far as to imply he was mentally ill. Then, growing tired of beating around the bush, Jason cut to the chase. “So judging by the information I’ve given you, what would you say is wrong with her?”
The doctor cocked an eyebrow and his voice turned sober as he said, “I’ll need more information before I give you any idea where to begin, Jason,” he said. Then looking his client in the eye he added, “One thing you must keep in mind is the possibility, improbable as it may seem, that you share in the blame.”
Jason hadn’t considered that yet, and if the doctor could have seen the way Misty had acted, he wouldn’t be so skeptical about where to assign the blame either. “Sure,” he responded with a shrug. “I’ll try to keep an open mind.”
They each sat a few moments in silence, processing what they’d discussed before the doctor decided to lead the conversation to a place and time that Jason most certainly didn’t want to go. “Let’s turn the dial back a few more years, Jason,” Dr. Throckmorton instructed. “Tell me about your childhood.”
Jason sat in silence a moment longer as the memories flooded in. He didn’t want to go there, didn’t want to remember… but some demons could not be kept at bay forever. He had succeeded in doing so for years – but here and now, for some reason, it all began to bubble to the surface.
His mind took him away. He was in the house where he’d played, slept, and lived as a child. A noise had drawn him from bed, out of the light sleep he had fallen into. As he walked from his upstairs bedroom, down a long hall, he shied away from the open doorways. He just knew that someday something terrible would come into his home, lurk unseen in the cracks and corners of the dark and desolate rooms of the house, watching, waiting, seeking out a chance to destroy.
He scurried silently over to the top of the stairway. Voices had drawn him. Quite, cruel tones were coming from the kitchen. What was in his house? He had to see. Breathing hard from anxiety, he got down on his hands and knees and crawled over to the edge of the top step where he lay down on his stomach. He could feel his heart beating an erratic tempo against the floor.
He peeked over the edge of the staircase, looking down on the scene below. There were no bad guys, no giant two headed reptile breathing out sparks of fire… just mom and dad. What were they doing up so late?
“Keep your voice down. You’ll wake up Jason,” his mother hissed.
“Okay, okay,” his father replied with raised hands. “All I’m saying is that if I make the money, I should decide how it gets spent.”
His mother just stared at her husband with the same look she’d given the men who came and took her car away. She said they were just going to work on it. They would bring it back soon. Dad should call those people and give ‘em a piece of his mind, like he used to do for momma, cuz it had been three or four weeks and her car was still gone.
And so went almost every night for the next year or so; a young Jason cowering alone in the shadows at the top of the stairs, not wanting to hear but afraid to not listen. Then one night there was no more arguing; there was no more yelling… just a final silence. The next week his best friend, the one he called dad, moved out, leaving a young Jason alone to try to sort through all the broken promises and shattered dreams. Night after night of his own tears wetting his pillow, left him with nothing but an empty feeling seeping into and sealing up his broken heart. And then he cried his last tear. Tears were a sign of weakness. No more weakness. The world would spot it and drive a wedge of pain into it.
And that was the main reason Jason didn’t want children. As much as he hated it, he couldn’t help the fact that he was his father’s son. He could feel their common weaknesses. He also could still feel what it felt like as he sat at the top of those stairs or laid in bed at night, in that silent house, wishing to once again hear his father’s voice in it. He couldn’t risk putting his own child through that. He had buried those memories in the back of his mind, telling himself that they were not important. If that was the case then why were they among the first of his childhood memories to be resurrected?
“Perhaps because those memories reveal some of your most life altering moments,” Dr. Throckmorton interrupted quietly.
Jason had only been vaguely aware of the fact that he was thinking out loud. “Could be,” he mumbled quietly while staring blankly at the floor.
The doctor went on. “It would seem that your money and marriage problems not only go hand-in-hand, one with the other, but are most likely traits you picked up from your parents. Would you agree with me on that?”
Jason had never thought about it that way, but it seemed to kind of make sense. “Yeah, I guess so,” he half-heartily agreed.
The doctor leaned towards Jason as he spoke. “Once you’ve realized that, the next thing you need to realize is that this is not your fault. Do you understand, Jason? The things you experienced as a youth shaped you into the man you are today.”
Jason simply nodded.
“What did that boy at the top of those stairs feel?” Dr. Throckmorton asked. “Helpless? Vulnerable? Like things were out of his control?” He paused for a moment to let what he was saying sink in before going on in a quiet voice. “It’s not easy for a man to admit, but this has something to do with the reason that you are here in my office today. These emotions of pain and anger from your childhood are still present with you… and you don�
��t like sleeping on the couch,” Tomas added, trying to lighten a heavy subject. Jason put on an empty smile but didn’t say a word.
The doctor leaned back in his chair. “As that boy sat there powerless, night after lonely night, what would he have been willing to do to obtain even just a small portion of control? What if he could have taken part in their discussions? What if he could have changed their decisions? What if he could have altered their destinies?”
Jason ran his fingers threw his hair. This doctor guy was stirring up thoughts that he would have preferred to let lie… but the questions weren’t over. “Were you able to control them?” With a slight shake of his head, Jason indicated no. “In your personal or business life have you achieved a position of control?”
“No,” Jason admitted, turning his head and looking towards the door.
“Why not?” Dr. Throckmorton continued to pry. Jason just shrugged.
“It is because you have not learned to control yourself,” the doctor stressed. “Allow things to start spinning out of your control… next thing you know, you’ll feel yourself begin to slip,” he said, gliding his hand by like it was some poor soul slipping away. He then refocused his attention on Jason. “During that impulsive buying spree on the new credit card, who could you not control? – You,” he stated abruptly, answering his own question. “You. Jason Hathaway. You could not…”
“I came here about my marriage,” Jason butted in defensively. “How’s all this stuff supposed to help me improve my marriage?”
Unfazed by the intrusion, the doctor responded, “Your marriage is improved by improving the one person that you should be able to control… yourself. Did you take the time to notice the images in the waiting room?” There was a hint of arrogance in his voice. “They are of some of our most distinguished leaders from the past. I had each one of them placed there for a reason and that reason being they all had one thing in common and that one thing was total self-control. Winston Churchill once said, ‘History will be kind to me for I intend to write it.’ Do you think he could have controlled the outcome of history without controlling himself?” Jason shook his head. “Here’s my point,” the doctor said, leaning back in his seat. “A woman wants a leader, right? A woman wants a hero. Well, heroes are in complete control.”
Hero? Jason’s mind gave a jolt as he sat up in his chair with a gleam in his eyes. “A hero,” he uttered in an astonished tone. ”A woman wants to be rescued!”
“Exactly,” the doctor replied, delighted that they were finally getting somewhere.
“Just like in the movies,” Jason went on in awe of the discovery, “the damsel is in distress, and when it seems that all hope is lost, right at the last moment, the hero steps in and risks everything to save her.”
“Yes,” the doctor said, giving an amused smile. “Something to that effect anyways.”
The gears in Jason’s mind were turning, and he was coming up with a crazy idea; one that could revolutionize, not only his marriage, but the whole institution of marriage. Scooting to the edge of his seat and leaning as close to the doctor as possible, he posed his wild idea. “Would you help me stage a situation where she needs to be rescued?”
Dr. Throckmorton gave him a blank look. Their minds were obviously not chugging along the same track. “What? Who?” he stammered, trying to catch up.
“Misty,” Jason explained excitedly. “You know – my wife! We could stage a little trouble so I would have the chance to rescue her and be the hero.” The words tumbled out in an anxious gush.
“That’s not what I meant,” Dr. Throckmorton stressed, sounding a bit annoyed. “A situation where a woman needs to be rescued is not something you can make happen... it just, well, happens.”
“I can’t wait for that,” Jason said with a wild look in his eyes. “Can’t take that risk. What if nothing bad ever happens to her?”
“Yeah, you’re right,” the doctor scoffed. “That would be terrible.”
Jason didn’t pay any attention to the doctor’s lack of confidence in the idea. “I really don’t see any reason not to,” he insisted. “We wouldn’t be doing anything illegal, and as long as we keep it under our control, no one would get hurt.”
The doctor’s expression turned from unconvinced to hesitant, from hesitant to thoughtful before an interested look came to his eyes. Something Jason said must have caught his attention because, after hesitating another moment or two, he leaned forward, listening as Jason began laying out the details.
Chapter Three
A soft breeze gently stirred the dark waters trapped lazily inside concrete banks, as if urging it to awaken; light from surrounding buildings brought the soft ripples to life, displaying an array of dancing color. Laughter floated back and forth across the waterway, and in the distance, live music could be heard drifting up from some venue downstream. Though some might call it late, the night was still live and well on the River Walk in Pueblo, Colorado.
The inside of Angelo’s Pizza Parlor was bustling with the activity due a weekend night in spring, so Jason and Misty wandered out the back door that opened up to a view of the waterway. Off to one side they found a nice, dimly lit corner on the porch, several feet higher up than a larger group of tables down by the River Walk. The outdoor dining area was surrounded by a short fence made of iron with a gate that let out to the waterway. Jason scooted a chair away from the table for two and motioned for Misty to be seated.
“My,” she said with a smile, “aren’t you a gentleman.”
“Tonight is special,” Jason said, returning her smile as she sat down.
“Well, you couldn’t have picked a better spot,” Misty replied happily. “Even though I work here, I never get tired of eating down by the river at night. Plus it seems like forever ago since we’ve been on a date night here.”
“I haven’t seen you here in a while,” a voice spoke happily to Jason after he’d seated himself.
“Yeah, Misty keeps me on a pretty tight leash,” Jason said as he grinned up at the lady who appeared to be in her mid-forties. He couldn’t remember her name, and it was unreadable on her nametag due to the dim lighting, but she was the manager and had been for as long as Misty had been a waitress there.
“I find that hard to believe about Misty,” the manager replied with a laugh. “She’s like her sister, Susan, always easy going and one of the best waitresses I’ve ever had,” she spoke and shook her head slightly as she looked at Misty, memories burning deep within her eyes.
“Is Susan here tonight?” Misty asked hopefully.
“Nope, sorry,” the lady answered. “This is her night off.”
“So tell me,” Jason spoke slyly, “you say Misty is one of your best and easiest going waitresses; do all your best and easiest going waitresses dump food on the customers?”
The manager frowned slightly, looking up as if searching her memory. “She did dump food on you once, didn’t she?” she asked then her frown turned into a smile. “I remember a little later that evening walking in on you and your sister,” she said, switching her gaze over to Misty. “You were both giggling and you said something about how good ‘that guy’ looked with his ‘flowing locks of spaghetti.” She laughed and shook her head.
Misty smiled but looked a bit uneasy, however this was all new news to Jason; he wanted to hear more of it.
“I really don’t know what happened that night,” the older lady went on. “She never spilled any food or even a drink before or after that night. I guess fate just took over and decided that you two should be together.” She smiled at the couple and let out a happy sigh. “I guess the Good Lord knew what he was up to because y’all sure do make a fine couple.” With that she leaned over and gave Misty a gentle hug.
A man approached behind the waitress and stood still. “This is Brent,” she said introducing the young man after she became aware of his presence. “He’ll be your waiter this evening.” Then with a smile she added, “But if there’s anything I can do for you, just l
et me know.”
After the waiter took their drink orders and left, Jason and Misty began making small talk. “She’s right,” Misty spoke. “We haven’t been here to eat in a while.” She leaned closer to Jason and cocked a flirtatious eyebrow at him. “What made you decide to take me here tonight?”
The truth? Jason had brought her to this place to trick her into believing that he was the man he knew he was. One might say he’d arranged for a little entertainment to go along with their food. Dinner and a show – It just didn’t get any better than that.
“I, um,” Jason began, “I just started thinking about the other evening… you know, about the new credit card and all.” He hadn’t realized making up an explanation would lead to him apologizing for something she did wrong. “I just wanted to make sure that, you know, we’re okay.”
“Yes Jason,” Misty smiled. “I think we’re okay.”
Jason knew that tonight was for nothing other than toying with her emotions. It was about himself – getting what he wanted. As a result, a twinge of undeniable guilt plagued his consciousness. However, at this point he was willing to do almost anything to relive the thrill that their marriage had once shared. If a little trickery was needed, a little trickery he would use.
“Sure is a pretty night,” Misty commented as she gazed along the edge of the roof, up into the depths of heaven. “You can actually see a few stars from here.” She drank in the awesome beauty of it all as she took a sip of her tea that had just arrived at the table.
Jason stared blankly at the door that led into the restaurant, looking for someone out of place or trying to give him a signal. That would likely be his accomplice. He wondered if his guy would come from the door that led into the restaurant or from the direction of the River Walk.
Beneath the Tombstone (The Tombstone Series) Page 3
