Father, Where Are You Part VI
Richard Reese
Jan 31, 2012 "
It was a brilliant Tuesday afternoon and any vestiges of the recent ice storm, in the form of small patches of ice, could only be found under the bases of trees that never welcomed the sun and in the eternally shady allies, nooks and crannies of the city. In this part of the country, snow and ice didn't linger throughout the season as in more northern climes. Perhaps that is why southerners have such vivid memories of the last time it snowed, no matter how many years ago it was. And that elusive White Christmas would never fail to go down in the local history books as a reference point of a lifetime.
Power lines were mostly repaired, bringing life back to the city. Stores were open, school was in session and Doreen was released from the hospital, smiling as she inhaled the sixty degree air and basked in the sun on her face, arm in arm with Glenn, feeling as if she were a little girl all over again.
Doctor Shelby had determined she was recovering nicely and posed no threat to herself or others. Her motor skills were fine and she was no longer experiencing headaches or any physical discomforts, other than parts of her face being sensitive to the touch. Her memory was returning in irregular flashbacks, not always seemingly coherent. The doctor said this was to be expected and the puzzle pieces would assemble themselves in time.
Doreen's bright mood dimmed at the sight of her Honda Accord, looking damaged and forlorn in a corner of the wrecking yard. Most shocking was the crushed front end and the caved in roof. "Oh, my God! How did I survive that?" she asked Glenn.
Not an overtly religious man, Glenn nevertheless replied "By the grace of God, Love." And he truly meant it. He shivered inwardly at the sight of the mangled vehicle, pulling Doreen close as he did so, more thankful than ever that she lived through the ordeal. She returned the hug before approaching her car.
The driver's side door had been forced open with a pry bar by the rescue crew and would never again close properly with the distorted roofline. Ducking inside, the first things she noticed were the photocopies scattered around, most wrinkled and blurred from the snow that had blown in the car's interior and subsequently melted. Doreen knew instinctively that this discovery must have something to do with the visit to the copy shop she vaguely remembered.
As she held a copy, struggling to absorb the scene and understand it's relevance she heard Glenn whisper "Ah, so that's it." over her shoulder.
"What is it? Does this mean anything to you?" she asked.
"I found the original so many years ago. Ruth and I were newly married and I was looking for a pair of my dress socks that I thought may have accidentally found their way into Ruth's dresser. I recognized you immediately, but had no idea of who the man might have been."
"What did she say?" Doreen interrupted.
"It's not so much what she said as to how she reacted to my discovery. Ruth walked up behind me as I was studying the photo and practically snatched it from my hand, demanding to know why I was snooping through her things. When I asked who the man was holding you, an innocent enough question, she hesitated enough to rein in her anger, which I later realized was a calculated move to formulate an answer. She said he was a distant cousin passing through and she had not seen him since that time. Even then, I didn't believe her, but saw nothing to gain by pursuing the matter further."
"Would that explain her anger recently, that I somehow discovered the same picture the other day?"
"Of course it would. How else would you have these copies if you didn't possess the original? It may very well be in here, unless you have given it to someone already. Ruth failed to mention this in our conversation. She only said you had 'gone off on some crazy search for your no good birth father'. I don't understand why she kept it all this time. Perhaps she had intended to get rid of it and never did."
As Doreen continued to unload any remaining valuables from her car and search for any clues to her recent whereabouts, Glenn was taken back to his last days with her mother. Ruth always talked of her desire for another daughter. Not another child, but a daughter, specifically. As much as he loved Doreen, Glenn longed for a child he could truly call his own, regardless of gender, and knew he could love them both equally.
Then he found out about the abortion. Glenn rarely looked at bank statements, but on this particular occasion he was concerned about a check he had mailed to colleague in Vermont, who had been extremely helpful in obtaining some research material for him in library there. His friend had graciously made copies of the precious documents and mailed them down. Glenn feared the man had inadvertently undercharged him for his services and had been too polite to mention it.
Scanning the list of checks, his finger stopped on an entry for $797 paid to Indianapolis Clinic For Women. He wondered what she could have needed there and not even sure what the place was. And why would she pay cash, rather than use their health insurance? He simply called the clinic and asked them what specific medical procedures they performed. After getting his answer, he looked at the kitchen calendar. The date of the check was circled, along with a note in Ruth's hand that said "ski trip". He then remembered her leaving for a couple of days, presumably to go to West Virginia with some girlfriends.
He wasn't angry so much as bewildered. Glenn kept no secrets from Ruth, but it was obvious she didn't reciprocate. Rather than play detective, he decided on the direct approach. He left his study, phone bill in hand, to find Ruth in the den, staring disinterestedly at the television while sipping on a cocktail.
He was hoping for a rational explanation. Maybe she paid for a friend who was short on cash. But why call it a ski trip, instead of telling him she was loaning a friend in trouble some money? Was she having an affair and gotten pregnant by her boyfriend, something he hadn't been able to accomplish himself?
He could think of nothing worse than that scenario, but he was wrong. What he heard was infinitely worse. Fueled by her fourth martini of the evening, eyes flaring with a combination of alcohol and disdain for her husband she made no effort to concoct a lie. "Of course it was yours. Sleeping with one man is bad enough. I couldn't imagine having two. Besides, it was a male baby and I refuse to bring one of those into the world."
Glenn was beyond stunned. He felt as if he had slipped into an alternate universe. And he believed his once loving wife had become insane. He knew one doesn't typically become insane. They usually just are, which meant he had missed the signs, or she had been adept at hiding them. Not bothering to dwell on her mental condition any longer, he turned without a word and went to his bedroom, where he packed a suitcase with some fresh clothes and some essential items. On his way out of the house, he paused to tell Ruth "I'll be back tomorrow for the rest of my things."
Dredging up this painful memory reminded him of his promise to Doreen in the hospital. He now realized he didn't have the heart to tell her of this and could only hope she would be distracted enough to forget she had asked.
"Glenn, look what I found." Doreen said, bringing him out of his reverie.
__________________
Richard Reese
Jan 31, 2012 "
It was a brilliant Tuesday afternoon and any vestiges of the recent ice storm, in the form of small patches of ice, could only be found under the bases of trees that never welcomed the sun and in the eternally shady allies, nooks and crannies of the city. In this part of the country, snow and ice didn't linger throughout the season as in more northern climes. Perhaps that is why southerners have such vivid memories of the last time it snowed, no matter how many years ago it was. And that elusive White Christmas would never fail to go down in the local history books as a reference point of a lifetime.
Power lines were mostly repaired, bringing life back to the city. Stores were open, school was in session and Doreen was released from the hospital, smiling as she inhaled the sixty degree air and basked in the sun on her face, arm in arm with Glenn, feeling as if she were a little girl all over again.
Doctor Shelby had determined she was recovering nicely and posed no threat to herself or others. Her motor skills were fine and she was no longer experiencing headaches or any physical discomforts, other than parts of her face being sensitive to the touch. Her memory was returning in irregular flashbacks, not always seemingly coherent. The doctor said this was to be expected and the puzzle pieces would assemble themselves in time.
Doreen's bright mood dimmed at the sight of her Honda Accord, looking damaged and forlorn in a corner of the wrecking yard. Most shocking was the crushed front end and the caved in roof. "Oh, my God! How did I survive that?" she asked Glenn.
Not an overtly religious man, Glenn nevertheless replied "By the grace of God, Love." And he truly meant it. He shivered inwardly at the sight of the mangled vehicle, pulling Doreen close as he did so, more thankful than ever that she lived through the ordeal. She returned the hug before approaching her car.
The driver's side door had been forced open with a pry bar by the rescue crew and would never again close properly with the distorted roofline. Ducking inside, the first things she noticed were the photocopies scattered around, most wrinkled and blurred from the snow that had blown in the car's interior and subsequently melted. Doreen knew instinctively that this discovery must have something to do with the visit to the copy shop she vaguely remembered.
As she held a copy, struggling to absorb the scene and understand it's relevance she heard Glenn whisper "Ah, so that's it." over her shoulder.
"What is it? Does this mean anything to you?" she asked.
"I found the original so many years ago. Ruth and I were newly married and I was looking for a pair of my dress socks that I thought may have accidentally found their way into Ruth's dresser. I recognized you immediately, but had no idea of who the man might have been."
"What did she say?" Doreen interrupted.
"It's not so much what she said as to how she reacted to my discovery. Ruth walked up behind me as I was studying the photo and practically snatched it from my hand, demanding to know why I was snooping through her things. When I asked who the man was holding you, an innocent enough question, she hesitated enough to rein in her anger, which I later realized was a calculated move to formulate an answer. She said he was a distant cousin passing through and she had not seen him since that time. Even then, I didn't believe her, but saw nothing to gain by pursuing the matter further."
"Would that explain her anger recently, that I somehow discovered the same picture the other day?"
"Of course it would. How else would you have these copies if you didn't possess the original? It may very well be in here, unless you have given it to someone already. Ruth failed to mention this in our conversation. She only said you had 'gone off on some crazy search for your no good birth father'. I don't understand why she kept it all this time. Perhaps she had intended to get rid of it and never did."
As Doreen continued to unload any remaining valuables from her car and search for any clues to her recent whereabouts, Glenn was taken back to his last days with her mother. Ruth always talked of her desire for another daughter. Not another child, but a daughter, specifically. As much as he loved Doreen, Glenn longed for a child he could truly call his own, regardless of gender, and knew he could love them both equally.
Then he found out about the abortion. Glenn rarely looked at bank statements, but on this particular occasion he was concerned about a check he had mailed to colleague in Vermont, who had been extremely helpful in obtaining some research material for him in library there. His friend had graciously made copies of the precious documents and mailed them down. Glenn feared the man had inadvertently undercharged him for his services and had been too polite to mention it.
Scanning the list of checks, his finger stopped on an entry for $797 paid to Indianapolis Clinic For Women. He wondered what she could have needed there and not even sure what the place was. And why would she pay cash, rather than use their health insurance? He simply called the clinic and asked them what specific medical procedures they performed. After getting his answer, he looked at the kitchen calendar. The date of the check was circled, along with a note in Ruth's hand that said "ski trip". He then remembered her leaving for a couple of days, presumably to go to West Virginia with some girlfriends.
He wasn't angry so much as bewildered. Glenn kept no secrets from Ruth, but it was obvious she didn't reciprocate. Rather than play detective, he decided on the direct approach. He left his study, phone bill in hand, to find Ruth in the den, staring disinterestedly at the television while sipping on a cocktail.
He was hoping for a rational explanation. Maybe she paid for a friend who was short on cash. But why call it a ski trip, instead of telling him she was loaning a friend in trouble some money? Was she having an affair and gotten pregnant by her boyfriend, something he hadn't been able to accomplish himself?
He could think of nothing worse than that scenario, but he was wrong. What he heard was infinitely worse. Fueled by her fourth martini of the evening, eyes flaring with a combination of alcohol and disdain for her husband she made no effort to concoct a lie. "Of course it was yours. Sleeping with one man is bad enough. I couldn't imagine having two. Besides, it was a male baby and I refuse to bring one of those into the world."
Glenn was beyond stunned. He felt as if he had slipped into an alternate universe. And he believed his once loving wife had become insane. He knew one doesn't typically become insane. They usually just are, which meant he had missed the signs, or she had been adept at hiding them. Not bothering to dwell on her mental condition any longer, he turned without a word and went to his bedroom, where he packed a suitcase with some fresh clothes and some essential items. On his way out of the house, he paused to tell Ruth "I'll be back tomorrow for the rest of my things."
Dredging up this painful memory reminded him of his promise to Doreen in the hospital. He now realized he didn't have the heart to tell her of this and could only hope she would be distracted enough to forget she had asked.
"Glenn, look what I found." Doreen said, bringing him out of his reverie.
__________________
