Disclaimer: This is a fictional story. It is not endorsed or affiliated in any way with any institution, facility, or family. The story is based on places, people, and facts,
but is written entirely from my imagination.
Any use of this story in part or in whole must be approved by sending a written request to the author.
Chapter One
FIVE DAYS
EARLIER - Jillian lay silently between the softness of the bed sheets on their
queen size sleep number bed, as Nick sat in an upright position, with his legs
crossed, waiting for the eleven o'clock news to share their predictions for the
upcoming five day forecast. Being in the world of home construction, Nick's
business and income weighted heavily on what the weather was doing. Jillian
always knew that most of the time the weather for their home town of Eagle Ridge, in the
summer, would be hot and humid with a chance of a grumpy husband at the end the
day. Not something to look forward too.
She hated the mind games that with-out-fail, would accompany his grumpy
attitude.
She tried
her best to pacify herself, not to disturb Nick, by sliding and alternating each
leg back and forth letting the cool softness of the sheets caress her skin to
calm her senses and take her somewhere peaceful - she was trying to over
compensate for the rash and ramped thoughts that were pressing, twisting and
spinning in the back of her mind about the events of her day. She felt plagued
with guilt. She wished she could take it all back; start the whole day over
again. The more she thought about what she had done, the more she realized that
she had to be the one to tell her family especially before it appeared in their
local Capital newspaper. She had ample
opportunity at the dinner table that evening to open up and be honest, but she
feared what she would reveal could break her family’s heart, yet even more so
it was the harsh reality that it would be more than heartbreaking and only one
word would describe it - devastating. What made the whole situation worse -
this would be the first time in her life that she didn't know what to say or
how to explain her actions. The only thing she was sure of, there was nothing she
could do to change things.
“I know at some point I will have to confess and tell them what I’ve
done.” She
thought silently to herself, "Maybe If I talk to Nick first he'd
understand and would support me when I tell the kids," Nick and Jillian had always had an
agreement and an understanding that began when they exchange their personally
written vows, twenty-seven years ago in front of family and friends. They had
both promised to love and cherish one another and included all the typical lines of a
traditional wedding, however they also added, for all to witness, that they
would always discuss their problems, positive or negative, with each other and
never make any big decisions on their own - especially if it would have a
serious impact on the family and their finances. Her eyes began to well up,
thinking back on their wedding day. She knew it was only a matter of time
before he would begin to suspect that something was up as it was odd for a
women who normally gave the impression that a strong dose of Ritalin should be
on her list of medications, even before bed time, now has found an impressive
ability to remain speechless for more than five minute - this was a major red
flag that clearly indicated - trouble loomed.
Their
bedroom was illuminated with only the blue haze given off from the television
and the occasional street light piercing the room as the sheer curtains that draped over their windows, danced
and rolled by the cool breeze that filtered through the opened window. Outside
in the far distant part of town you could hear the sounds of the midnight
express freight train whistle announcing its arrival and making its way through
the town – Jillian did her best to hear it, but the volume on the television
was louder than normal for this Monday evening.
She took
several deep breaths and finally mustered up the nerve to confess to Nick what
she had done.
“Nick?
“Yeah?” He
muttered, more focused on what was on the television.
“Nick…Can we
talk? I really need to tell you something.” She waited impatiently for an
answer.
“Yeah, ah,
can’t it wait for just a second?” his eyes still fixated on the news reporter talking about the a new rain water tax that was being considered in several states on the east coast.
“NICK!”
He immediately
turned around and sharply responded, “Why do you always wait until I’m watching
the news or the weather to do all you’re talking? Why can’t you pick a conversation
during a tampon commercial or some shit like that? You timing sucks!”
“Never mind,”
“Oh what now
you’re going to be mad at me…I’m just kidding. You need to stop taking me so
seriously,” he laughed as he wore a slight sneer of agitation.
The tone in
his voice made her feel instantly hurt and unwanted. She tried to tell herself
that he was moody from a hot day at work, but suddenly a dialog began forming
in her thoughts. She wanted to respond with something to make him feel the same
hurt, something like telling him she was tired of feeling like being a person
that was only there when he wanted her. That he was always working and when he
wasn’t he’d eat, take a shower and then sit and watch endless reruns of the
same 80’s sitcoms, night after night that made it feel as if she was being
pushed aside and not very high on his list of life priorities. She realized
that she didn’t always pick the best times to have some long drawn out conversation,
but with so little time spent together, she had learned that to get a moment,
you have to grab the opportunity when you see it.
She did her
best to respond, but her emotions and the growing aching lump in her throat
rendered her speechless, as Nick continued to stay focused on the weather girl
doing her best to give the details of a pending weekend storm while trying to
look her best in a much to tight clinging red dress while eight months
pregnant. Jillian shook her head and decided that best thing she could do was
to roll over, snuggle up to her pillows and called it a night.
Fifteen
minutes had passed when Nick realized that Jillian had not even bothered to say
good-night. Nick rustled around trying to find the remote for the television so
that he could turn it off, but could fight it nowhere.
“Maybe it
fell off the bed on the other side,” he muttered, “Jilly Bean?” he gently
touched her shoulder, “Jilly? Hon, do you have the remote?”
His touch
had woken her from a twilight sleep, but she instead she mumbled and stirred briefly playing her best possum.
“You find it yourself” she thought.
“Dang it!”
he sputtered as he got up and walked around the edge of the bed using his feet like cat whiskers to find the remote, so that he didn’t have to get on his hands and knees.
Just before he was about to give up and turn on the overhead light, there it was just as he expected, it was on Jillian’s side of the bed and had slid just under the hunter green dust ruffle.
He turned
the television off and then climbed back into bed, unaware that his wife was
still awake and coping with the way he had made her feel. He jerked the covers
up over his chest hoping in some way he would wake Jillian as a way to be
spiteful because she interrupted his news and weather and also because she didn’t’
wait for him to fall asleep with her.
She
maintained her perfect possum position as tears slowly rolled down her face and
pooled onto her pillow. As the hours slowly ticked by, she eventually fell
asleep.
