To the reader:
There isn't any sex in this story so if that's all you want then this isn't going to be for you. But if you enjoy a story about the ending of one life and the beginning of another then read on.
Thanks to jo for editing. Any errors are mine and not because of poor editing.
© Copyright March 2013, by the author.
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Fair-weather friend -- A friend who is only a friend when circumstances are pleasant or profitable. A friend who is only around when they need you. A friend who only sticks by you when things are going well. At the first sign of trouble, these capricious, disloyal friends will drop their relationship with you.
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I had a visit from my daughter today. It wasn't pleasant for either of us and I don't think she left happy. Oh, she was all nice and friendly and amiable, but it's been too long and the wound too deep for me to return any of her affection without considerable thought and soul searching. She said what she wanted to say and left without getting what she came for. What she wanted was me back in her life. I told her I'd think about it.
And when she left I cried.
Megan is a grown woman with children of her own but at the same time she's the little girl that I bounced on my knee when she was three. She's intelligent, articulate, attractive, and from what her sister says a good wife and mother. I have to believe she is because she's the image of her mother. She even has her mother's stubborn streak. She's everything a parent could dream of.
So if she's so wonderful then why haven't I spoken a single word to her, before today, for five years? It started with something her mother did.
I remember the last words I spoke to Megan like it was yesterday. It was five years ago at her mother's funeral and after one of the most emotional days of my life. I walked up to Megan at the grave site and told her, with all the bile I could muster, that she was just as dead to me as the woman we just laid in the ground. Then I put my index finger in my son Stuart's face and said the same thing to him. Scanning the crowd of shocked onlookers, I scowled at each one with an expression that made it extremely clear that my words included them too. The stunned reaction of my family and friends, along with their bug-eyed expressions, will burn deeply in my soul for the rest of my days. It was that pain that I will take to my grave: A pain born of the destruction of our family, the death of their mother, and the loss of their father. I walked away from everything that day, arm in arm with my youngest daughter Faye.
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I loved Connie almost from the first moment we met. It was as though we had been together all of our lives. We've loved and had been in love from that moment on. God must have used us as the model for perfect matches because we were like apple pie and vanilla ice cream, great separately but absolutely the best together. Even before we said our vows we were so much of a twosome that everybody said we were 'old married folks' already. That was way back in high school. We married after college and just celebrated our 25
th
anniversary. Then things happened that to this day I still can't fully explain.
Our 25
th
wedding anniversary was a gigantic affair. It was a beautiful sunny June day and all of our family and friends were there to celebrate with us. My father was in his wheelchair and sat at the head table with Connie's mother and father and all three of our children. Every friend and neighbor congratulated us and showered us with more gifts than we could ever use. Even the town mayor stopped by to give us a little gift from him and our friends on the town council; a plaque declaring June 14
th
as Connie and Marc Jenkins Day. There were over 200 people under that large circus tent, laughing, eating, and dancing late into the night. When it came time to reaffirm our vows I don't think there was a dry eye anywhere. I know for certain that Connie's and mine weren't. But I didn't see anyone else's. I didn't see our children standing beside us at the altar, I didn't see our families holding hands in the front row, and I certainly didn't see our Golden Retriever, Beau, curled up at the feet of the preacher. I didn't see anything but Connie, the woman who completed me, the woman I loved and have always loved, and the woman I planned to spend the rest of my life showing just how much I did.
Our oldest daughter Megan had gotten married a month before our little fete and had just returned from her honeymoon a week earlier. Stuart had just finished his sophomore year at University and our youngest Faye her freshman. It was good to have everyone back at home again. I would never say this out loud but I missed the noise and the pandemonium of the kids at home. I think Connie did too. For a little while at least we were a family again.
A few days after our anniversary party I was returning all of the chairs and tables and other party equipment to the rental place when I had a little fender-bender with my truck in the parking lot. I turned the corner a bit too sharply and mangled the headlight of a nice new Lexus. The police officer who took the accident report was one of the kids that grew up with Stuart and had played on many of his sports teams. Greg was no longer a kid though; he was taller than me now and with his uniform carried an air of authority that made him even taller. I watched him mature and was as proud of him as I was of my own children. After our business was finished we just stood around and talked about nothing. The end of the conversation planted a seed that grew like a weed in my fertile mind.
"Well Mr. Jenkins," Greg said holding out his hand to shake mine. "I've got to get back to the station. It was really nice to see you again and I'm sorry I couldn't make it to your anniversary party. My parents told me I missed a really good time." I shook the hand of the man that I watched try to steal second base in nine and under baseball. He always got thrown out, but grew into a man that I was proud to call friend.
"Oh, and tell Mrs. Jenkins to be careful and stop at stop signs from now on," he said with a mischievous little smile. "I'll have to give her more than a warning ticket next time."
I'm sure my confused expression told the tale.
"Oh crap, I didn't mean to say something out of turn." Now he looked embarrassed.
I picked up on his discomfort right away and tried to help him out a bit. At the same time I was trying to figure out what he was saying. "That's all right Greg. Connie doesn't always tell me when she gets a ticket. She thinks I'll get mad at her and take away her driving privileges. I won't, but I let her think that. Now, so I can have the upper hand at dinner tonight what did you cite her for? I may want to tease her a little about it, that's all."
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything, I don't want to get anybody in trouble. It was nothing really."
My smile got bigger and I pleaded, "No, nobody's in trouble. Just a little friendly teasing, that's all. Now what happened?"
"It was a couple weeks ago, Saturday the 31
st
I think, your wife turned coming out of the Holiday Inn parking lot up on route 40 without stopping at the stop sign. She didn't hit anybody or interfere with traffic but she sped away so quickly that I had to stop her and tell her to slow down. I should have given her a citation for missing the stop sign but there was no harm done so she got a warning. It was no big deal."
"Yeah, no problem Greg, you did the right thing. I'll make sure to tell her to watch her driving and get in a little jab at the same time. Thanks, it was nice seeing you again."
I unloaded the chairs and tables and afterwards sat in the truck thinking about the little conversation with Greg. Two weeks ago, on the 31
st
to be exact, I was at my father's house for the weekend helping with some chores that he's no longer capable of doing by himself. It was also two weeks after Megan's wedding. I remember that day taking Dad to an adult living facility to look around and see if he was interested in finally getting rid of the old house and moving into something smaller. He wasn't, and I knew that he wasn't going to be, but I had to try. I spent all day Saturday with him and returned home around nine Sunday night. I didn't notice anything strange and Connie didn't mention anything about the ticket she got from Greg. She said she spent a quiet day at home catching up on some reading. I thought that Greg must have remembered things wrong because Connie would never lie to me. So I filed it in my mind under strange and unexplained.
About a month after the anniversary bash my sister called and said she found my father on the floor of his kitchen when she came for her bi-weekly visit. He had fallen that morning and couldn't get back into his wheelchair on his own. She said that he wasn't injured, just embarrassed. I immediately made plans to go and stay with him on Saturday and try to convince him that moving to a smaller place where people could be around to help him would be in his best interest. Maybe he would be scared enough to listen this time - probably not. He's a hard-headed old cuss. Since Stuart and Faye were now home for the summer I asked, no I kind of coerced them into coming with me. I played the guilt card. "You guys haven't seen Grandpa in a long time and he won't be around forever." They agreed to go. Connie said that she would enjoy a day of quiet and was looking forward to finishing her book.