Intentional Fallacy (Book 5)

Chapter 12

I imagined that in a courtroom, during an especially grueling trial, the defense and the prosecution amass as much evidence as they can find. Not just sufficient evidence but a massive arsenal so there is no possibility of doubt . That, in a way, was what I did. I had the journal and I also had the post card Jeff had left for me. I knew there was an imbalance. I retrieved several of our family photo albums and put them on the bed. I removed an old box of letters from Jeff I kept in my closet. I even brought my jewelry box over and selected several gifts he'd given me over the years. Ones that had special meaning just like the ring he'd left for me that morning. I had all of the evidence of my love for Jeff arranged on one side of the bed, on the other side was just Margaret's leather journal. Looking at all of it in there front of me, I still felt her words carried more weight than any evidence or argument in Jeff's defense. It gave me a tight feeling in my throat. It wasn't fair to him. I should have waited for him to tell me what he wanted to say. I looked up at the ceiling for a moment and tried to understand the vacillations. How could he have written something so sincere and remorseful the day before and had callously admitted that he saw to it I'd be committed to a hospital where I'd been ruined for life? I started to cry. The thought of being "ruined" caused the pain to surface. I really had been destroyed but I had never put it into words. I felt myself growing distant from that moment. I didn't want to receded back into that abyss.

The phone rang. It snapped me out of the memory. I walked into the hallway and picked up the phone on the landing just outside of my door. There was a pack of cigarettes on the telephone table. I picked up the phone and shook out a cigarette with the other hand.

"Hello?"

"Mom, it's Charlie."

I flicked the lighter and lit my cigarette. "Darling how are you?" I asked.

"I'm fine. What's going on over there?"

"I'm sorry I called Peggy and upset you. It was for no reason."

He waited a moment before he spoke again. He had nothing but resentment for Jeff but he was so much like him. He was very protective and paternalistic. "I'm coming out there to get you and bring you back to Connecticut."

"Don't be silly. I'm sorry I called and worried Peggy. Everything's fine with daddy."

"Would you stop calling that guy daddy? He nothing more than a stranger to me."

"Why would you say such a thing?"

"I'm coming out to get you."

"Absolutely not. Stop speaking to me like I'm a child."

"Stop acting like one and stop living in a fantasy."

"Don't speak to me like—"

"Stop pretending you're a teenager and dad's a dashing millionaire. For once see this guy for what he is."

"I'm hanging up."

"I'm coming to Chicago—"

"Don't you dare!"

We both stopped speaking for a moment. Then his voice had changed. "I'm sorry I'm so angry. You wouldn't have called Peggy if you weren't worried he was going to hurt you."

"That's not true. I've had a hard few days. I was confused."

"Why have you had a hard time?"

"It's foolish but it has been very upsetting."

"Tell me."

Just as I felt I depended on my younger son too much for companionship, I felt I put Charlie in a position where he always had to protect me. I didn't mean to and honestly I had also tried to encourage a relationship between Jeff and him. It seemed to me that from the minute Charlie and I had moved to Chicago he had contempt for Jeff that only continued to grow. Jeff always said that Charlie hated him, something I found very disturbing for a father to say, but then at some point I realized he was right. I felt it was because of me.