An Unforeseen Turn of Events

Chapter Twelve

No one spoke much as the family ate pizza and salad.

"I just finished taking the SAT's. Man, are they hard!" Tim, attempting conversation, shook his head.

"Oh, I remember those days," Daniel commented as he bit into a slice.

"But Dad, you must've done really well because you went to Tufts," Trudy said.

Daniel shrugged and didn't say anything further. Tim and Trudy glanced at each other.

"What were your scores?" Tim persisted.

Daniel closed his eyes a moment. "It seems as if it were a lifetime ago. I got around 1225 combined."

"Oh, Dad, you were so lucky!" I got 1100 and I'm hoping that will get me into BC," Trudy said.

At the mention of the word "lucky," Daniel appeared as if he were chuckling to himself, but he said nothing further.

Trudy wanted to ask her mother what her scores were, but Christine's eyes had a faraway gaze, lost in her own thoughts. She decided to try anyway.

"Mom, what were your SAT scores?" she asked.

Christine didn't reply. She bit into a slice and stared out the window. She would get that way sometimes. Her eyes were heavy and she didn't glance once at her family. It was as if she weren't even present. Her husband usually would say something to get her attention, but tonight he took more salad and appeared to be studying the vegetables instead, tossing them around with his fork until deciding which to eat first.

Tim shook his head at Trudy, meaning don't even bother.

They ate the rest of the meal in silence.

By the time they finished, Tim and Trudy trudged upstairs to do their homework while Daniel and Christine cleaned up.

When they finished, Daniel wiped his hands on the dishtowel and said, "We have to talk."

Christine shook her head, her blond locks swaying back and forth. She didn't even look at him when she said, "Not until you tell me the truth about what's going on."

Daniel turned away and combed his hair with his hands. After pacing a moment, he faced her, "I have a particular philosophy in life. I don't believe in upsetting people until I know for certain there's something wrong." He stared at her, his cheeks flushing. "Am I a terrible person for believing this way?"

Christine tossed her dishtowel on the chair and said, "Of course not, but when a couple is married, they love and depend on each other. If there's something wrong, you're supposed to share it with your spouse. If not, who the hell are you supposed to share it with?"

Daniel looked away and sighed. Then he pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and said, "Come sit. We have to talk."

Christine sighed and with hooded eyes and her mouth a straight line, she sank down and waited with arms folded.

He covered his eyes with his hands and began. "I haven't faced such a problem as this in over twenty years and I don't want to alarm you. I hate alarming the people I love and want to be certain there is really something we should be alarmed about."

Christine leaned forward, intrigued. "Wh-What happened over twenty years ago?"

Daniel paused and studied his hands. "I have long dreaded the day I had to tell you about this. . ."

Christine put her arm on the table and her hand under her chin. "Tell me what? I always had a feeling you were keeping something from me by the way you wince when I tease you about past loves." She paused, "I just can't picture you hurting anyone."