Between Octobers

April 3rd

April 3rd

The feeling was like being trapped at the edge of a precipice. My life was haunted by the frailty and hope of a future that could not begin until he knew. I couldn't move until he knew.

The kids were sound asleep as I stuffed my feet into my shoes and drove down to the beach to think. The briny air usually helped get my head together.

Barefoot in the cold sand, I stared out at the dark sea, where the clouds loomed low and gray. So low, I swear I could have stood and touched them. The salty moisture of the Pacific filled my lungs. I drank in the sight of the first morning light dragging across the shadowy western blue. A misty horizon hung over the waves, fading in and out. There was no separation between sky and sea; they moved together as one.

The light changed while I stared at a growing array of color that sang its' glorious melodies of newness. I imagined the air was divine peace and inhaled. My anxiety was met with the calming swish of the mystic waters and calls of gulls. 

After a time, serenity came and I realized the problem. It revealed itself as I asked a question: What would I have done if it were Sol leaving for an extended period of time? My answer was immediate. Automatic. And I could not believe the contrast.

Because I jumped into our marriage, my mind never made the transition from person-I-am-sort-of-dating to husband, and because of that disconnect I hadn't given myself over as completely as Evan needed me to.

I had to go to him and I had to stay. I had to tell him. The uncertainty of his reaction scared the crap out of me but I had to face him and say the life-changing words.

I thanked God for the insight and ran back to the car. 

I called Lily on the way home. She agreed to stay with the boys until I got a place to bring them to. She assured me that her and Noah could handle Caleb, even though it would be a couple of weeks. Evan was almost done with the current picture and the next started immediately. Round table readings and rehearsals in New York.

After assuring Noah that I would be back on the weekend, I kissed him goodbye and dropped Caleb off at school, then headed for the airport.

A nagging voice in my head said I might be making a huge mistake by surprising him, so I called ahead. Once again, the phone went directly to voicemail. I sighed and left another message, debating on whether or not to call Sheri. I wanted to know what was keeping him so busy that he had no spare second to return my calls. But there was something undignified about having to check up on him. It felt degrading to our relationship. I would not submit my inquiries through a third party. I decided I could live with the mystery a little longer to spare myself the indignity.

Inside his room, the air was heavy with his presence. He must've left in a flurry this morning because there was a trail of clutter—traces of Hurricane Evan—that led from the door, through the entry and sitting area, all the way to the bed. A pile of towels sat tossed near the door. I placed them outside for housekeeping to pick up, since the cart was just down the hall. When I turned on the light in the restroom to check my makeup, I noticed the ring of grime in the sink matched the one in the tub. I tried to use the last clean washcloth to wipe away the muck, but it was dried on.

I sighed, knowing I was going to have to let the room be cleaned. 

I opened the door in time to see the maid making off with her cart in the other direction. "Excuse me," I called. She turned. "Can I get some clean towels, please? And some decaf coffee, if it's not too much trouble?"