Her side:
They sat across from each other, neither wanting to be the first to speak. She should probably offer an apology or explanation. Sorry, I have no control over this arm. My hand accidentally landed on yours. Or, how about, it was instinctive; I thought you were someone else? Anything but the humiliating truth, which made her sound like a fool. Oops, for a second I thought I was still your wife.
He had allowed her hand to rest on his a long while before gently pulling away to drain his glass; long enough for her to realize what she had done and swallow a flood of tears before they escaped. Had he waited to see what she would do? Been too shocked to react? Or, was it possible he had relished the moment and traveled back ten years the way she had? What was in that hesitation? She would choke on the question rather than ask.
Denise closed her eyes and pulled a breath between her lips, hoping to clear the mess in her throat and stop the spinning in her head. More likely, he could still read her thoughts and had only resisted the impulse to wrench his hand away to protect her feelings. Why did he have to be so fucking perfect? There's the icebreaker she needed. Just testing to see if you're still perfect enough to make me feel like a loser. Congratulations, you passed.
Their animated waitress broke the heavy silence for them with an innocently inappropriate, "Everyone doing okay here?"
Denise considered crossing her hands at her throat to signify choking. Craig ordered another round, the relief in his tone a sure guarantee of an extra ten in his already predictable overtip.
"Kristin is an adult now. I think we have to let her make her own choices," he said as the waitress walked away.
That's it? Back to business as though nothing happened? His use of the word we twisted her emotions further, but she managed a response for her daughter's sake. "Even adults need guidance at times, especially from their parents. Craig, she only has one semester left. I can't pretend I condone her leaving before she finishes."
"We can't stop her. If we try, she'll think we don't support her."
Denise looked the waitress in the eye as the girl deposited a fresh margarita in front of her. "We don't."
"You changed your mind?" the waitress asked, picking the drink back up.
"Sorry, I wasn't talking to you. I want the drink; I don't want to be part of his we."
Craig smiled at the girl. She returned the drink and backed away from the table, tossing a less animated, "Enjoy your drinks," at him before leaving.
Denise choked through the growing obstruction in her throat. "L.A. is so far, and so expensive."
"And exciting for a young girl." He raised his glass in a lone toast and took a drink.
"What if she doesn't find a job? She won't go there and immediately become an actress. There's real life before the big time and I can't help her. I couldn't even afford to get there if she needed me."
"I can," he assured her. "Let her follow her dream. If it works out, great. If not, she'll realize on her own that she needs to finish that last semester and return to plan A. I won't let her suffer, Denise."
How sweet. Mr. Perfect immediately solved every problem. He severed that we without a second thought. He could be both mother and father, bankroll, and guidance counselor all rolled into one. Maybe he could decorate the new place and teach Kristin to act while he was at it. She would just scratch mothering and worrying right off her to do list and replace them with amputate uncontrollable right arm and get a grip.
The heavy silence returned. She rotated her glass on the table, staring at the condemned limb. Anything she said would be wrong, argumentative, whiney, negative, or pleading. This meeting was a mistake. They should have dealt with their daughter's decision separately.
"Something wrong with your drink?" he asked.
She took a sip, bowing her head to meet the glass halfway before her trembling sloshed a spill on the table to remind her how imperfect she was. "No, it might be the best thing in my life."
They sipped through the next uncomfortable silence; she wishing her poorly disciplined arm could reach out this time and squelch the unspoken words before they suffocated her, and he chewing his lip between drinks. Was it her imagination, or was Mr. Perfect showing signs that he might also be struggling for composure?
"I'm sorry." The words hit her ears and she tried to believe she had said them, but his eyes erased that hope.
With a slight nod, she grabbed her purse. "Ladies room. Be right back." She rushed across the bar, relieved to find the one-seater empty, and leaned against the wall to review the reasons she didn't want him to be sorry. That made him the bigger person since she hadn't found the strength to say the words when she should have. He hadn't done anything wrong, so his apology could only be the lead-in to a disappointing statement yet to come. Or maybe this was another instance of his being sorry for pain she had caused.
Denise went directly from the ladies room to the parking lot without bothering to say good-bye. Silence was better than anything he had left to say.
His side:
They sat across from each other, neither wanting to be the first to speak. He certainly didn't want to ruin the moment. She had forgotten her anger for a second and touched his hand in a gesture so uncharacteristic that he wondered if she was even aware of her action. One word might set her off again, and he wanted to savor as much as he could of this return of the woman he had fallen in love with a quarter century before.
Denise was really beautiful when she wasn't angry but he wouldn't say those words. He had tried to tell her before and she took it the wrong way. For some reason, she took everything he said the wrong way so he had stopped talking. Was that how it ended? It was hard to remember if there was any one thing now. And because he never knew what happened, he hadn't been able to go into another relationship. Why destroy another woman?
He looked across the table and realized he had lost her again. Denise had her eyes closed and was doing that huffy breathing that often came before the outburst. Fortunately, he had work and Kristen to pour his love and life into. Kristen! He remembered the reason for this get-together as the waitress came to check on them, ordered another round, and then approached the subject.
"Kristin is an adult now. I think we have to let her make her own choices," he said as the waitress walked away. Immediately, he wished he hadn't said I think. Denise would perceive that as him trying to control everything.
"Even adults need guidance at times, especially from their parents. Craig, she only has one semester left. I can't pretend I condone her leaving before she finishes."
He half heard what she said, focusing on how to correct his last faux pas. "We can't stop her. If we try, she'll think we don't support her."
The waitress brought the drinks and Denise went off the deep end, making an issue over his use of the word we, probably because she was already ticked about the previous use of I. There was nothing he could do to please this woman. No matter how hard he tried, she couldn't accept anything he did. He would say as little as possible the rest of this meeting, and when he did have to speak; it would be short, positive, and neutral.
"L.A. is so far, and so expensive."
"And exciting for a young girl." He raised his glass and smiled. Short and positive.
"What if she doesn't find a job? She won't go there and immediately become an actress. There's real life before the big time and I can't help her. I couldn't even afford to get there if she needed me."
"I can," he assured her. "Let her follow her dream. If it works out, great. If not, she'll realize on her own that she needs to finish that last semester and return to plan A. I won't let her suffer, Denise." Couldn't get more positive. That should ease all her fears.
She didn't respond and he didn't know if her silence was a positive reaction or not. Maybe she hadn't heard him; she was staring at her glass and turning it. "Something wrong with your drink?" he asked.
She leaned over to take a sip, as though looking at him was more than she could stand. Guess that wasn't a positive response. What had he done wrong this time? She never gave him a clue, just disapproved without explanation.
"No, it might be the best thing in my life," she finally answered. Great. That had to be a dig. The sour, salty drink was better than the company she was with. He chewed his lip, wishing he could take back the million things he had done to turn her into this bitter woman. He would, if he knew what those million things were.
"I'm sorry." He offered a general apology that she could apply to whatever she imagined he had done. Without a response, she excused herself to the ladies room. Why did he keep trying? Obviously, she wanted nothing to do with him and couldn't even tolerate an hour or two to discuss their daughter's future. Once they got Kristen settled, he would let Denise off the hook. She'd only have to see him from a distance, at Kristen's wedding and major events in her life.
He watched her walk into the ladies room and said a silent good-bye, to Denise and to all hope of ever changing her mind about him.
Dannielle has written the rest of the story...
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Comments: 83
Way to go.
Sandy,
I do love your writing. You grab us every time.
He said - -she said, he thought - - she thought - -This is so true to life about the misunderstandings between husbands and wives, and really all of us.
Kal – Thanks for reading, and commenting. I especially value your opinion after reading your comments about parent/child relationships. I think if we follow your advice with our children, we might prevent this kind of heartbreak for them later – confidence and willingness to express are important in all relationships.
Hannah – thank you. It was a sad outcome – I'm kinda hoping they straightened things out at the wedding. Now that you mention it, I write a lot of sad endings.
Jessie – thanks! I wrote this as an exercise in a writing group, and can't remember exactly what the exercise was now. I think it might have been to write something from the perspective of the opposite gender.
Tanja – Poor you! I am nothing at all like either of the people in this story. I'm probably the opposite to a fault – as I leave no stone unturned, no comment unsaid, no question unasked.. and probably not enough to chance. But I've been involved with someone who was this unable to express his feelings or desires, and my heart broke for both of us.
Charles – you are so kind! Thank you.
Cena – I'm flattered by the compliments. Thank you. I wonder how many people have walked away from relationships when a few words would have made all the difference. I think I might be depressed now.
Liz – thanks for reading and the compliments – and I know this subject has been on your mind ;-) Hope I did it justice in your eyes.
Jake – thank you for the group and the invitation, Jake.
Great article!
It's so astounding how two decent, caring people can cause each other to much pain and doubt. We're not immoral, we're not pathological liars, but we're hurting and fearful of being hurt again. These are the bricks that become the seeminly insurmountable wall of separation. Time will tell if the wall defeats us, or if we can each establish a series of footholds and eventually climb above all of that history. One thing I'm pretty sure of, though... the wall never goes away. We can only climb above (a serious and risky effort required by both of us if it is to happen) or simply refuse to allow it to cast a shadow on our trust. I'm not sure how this story ends, but I'll keep y'all posted.
Moya, thanks to you and to Beryl.
Adore is an appropriate word for our former spouses. It is not love, but there is a kindness in the word adore.
Thanks!
In any case this is wonderfu writing. I sense you experienced it in your "real" life.
I completely missed this the first time around, and am so glad that Beryl & the editors brought it forward this morning! I love it when a writer grabs my attention and pulls me right in. Your dialogue is perfection, and you've presented both perceptions of an exchange brilliantly. But I think the most important thing you've achieved is rousing the curiosity of the reader. I want to know what happened in the past between these people, and what the future will bring for them. Excellent my friend!
What is so cool about reading this is that I feel I am the only one privileged to know what is going on. Reader empowerment. Very good.
Happy also, to see this featured today. Congratulations on top billing.
This is terrific! I agree with others. This is one I would love to continue to read. Hope you decide it's one you want to continue to write.
One other comment. This piece would never be accepted by the masses. They cannot stomach anything that doesn't have a happy ending. I often have occasion to think that most of our greatest works would never be published today. Maybe it's my ego as a writer, but every time I've scoured over the rejections that are polite enough to have a comment, I steel myself by thinking this might be the modern response to Jack London or Jane Austen. I guess what I'm saying is isn't it great to be able to read authors like Sandy? It's like getting your produce straight from the farmer. No middleman to sully the experience.
The last editor's pick I read was about dating tips...that's right dating tips written by some hack from Match.com. I think you even commented on it. I was to the point of thinking the editor's pick section was dead to me but you have given it life.
Andrea
I loved this, as I do all of your writing. I'm with many of the others...more chapters.
I love the way you are able to capture both perspectives and capture the problems of communication when people are on the same page, but reading at different rates. Sometimes I wonder how we ever come to understanding each other. It gets so complicated.
Wonderful Sandy.
This one is your best.
As one who is often prone to the short and witty quips, as soon as they say "What did you mean by that?" I know the end is near.
Congrats on getting your piece selected as an editor's pick. This was an honest and direct story - a great statement on miscommunication in relationshps. Kudos!
Tiny thing, I couldn't quite figure out what you meant by the second part of this sentence, "She would just scratch mothering and worrying right off her to do list and replace them with amputate uncontrollable right arm and get a grip." It doesn't harm the overall quality of the story, but it is a little hiccup in the flow of the reading.
Wonder what happens next?
You really put me there with this. I could picture every move they made.
I think we have all been there, done that to some extent.
You are very adept at this sort of thing.
I too, missed this the first time around, but am happy to have finally found it. When people divorce, it's so hard to meet again as there's always so much it seems, left unsaid and you captured that so perfectly, from one who's been there and done that. I'd love to see more of this!
Marilyn, if you see this, I am sorry I didn't see your comment before. I try to follow-up when I receive notices but obviously missed this one. I apologize, and thank you now.
I also hope we will know each other for a long time, and that you will see my 'real' writing in a safer forum.
I love writing exercises. I have stacks of books and old lessons that I periodically pull out and repeat the exercises. It helps me learn about myself and develop the characters in my fiction writing. Maybe we can get a group of people and work on exercises together sometime.