Redemption

This is where the wheels fall off the bus, my lovelies. I have eccentric tastes in characters and literature, and here I am indulging myself. So if you see many outré elements, blame me, but some of the blame goes to Sister Benigna and my childhood development, may she rest in peace.

So, my reading advice is this: enjoy the elements you like. If there are parts which don't work for you, I understand. Make sure you measure the two parts separately in your comments.

This is the last part of the story...and I am not sure I will continue with Reg in the future. If so, he will be a very secondary character.

*****

For a week, Reg did nothing. He sat and watched television. He moved around, helping the kids get off to school and occasionally helping with their homework. It was appalling how much he had forgotten about fractions and he didn't recall having to learn them as early as Jimmy.

Beth had moved to the kids room, sleeping with April. She had insisted he get the big bed. The mere scent of her in the bedroom brought up an enormous amount of emotional turmoil. It brought back memories of summer nights, walking and holding hands, of bittersweet memories.

But this was a semi-foreign place to him. It had scents and jokes and comments which he was no part of. Like almost all children, he half remembered being the smallest part of the domestic equation, but the life of a bachelor was a far different thing than that of a pseudo parental unit; for example, when he had the bad sense to finish off the lunch meat as a late night snack on a school night or the fact that 9 p.m. became quiet time.

There were little things he noticed. Every time Beth's cell rang, the kids stopped what they were doing and looked at her, waiting, questions on their faces, if not on their lips. Occasionally, Jimmy glanced at Reg when it happened.

The conversations was kept specifically light. Beth asked how he felt, made sure he took his meds, got fed and rested. Even though she was a single mother of two, she went out of her way to do the 'hand and foot' thing to the best of her ability. She was now a single mother of three.

Reg protested. "Beth...you have enough on your plate. I got over something like this before on my own."

"Yes...This time you don't need to do it alone. Now you have your friends."

It was a warm comforting feeling...but it didn't sit entirely right.

++

At the end of the week, he knew something was up when Sally arrived to shepherd the kids to her house for dinner. "It's lasagna." She told Reg with a wink. However, there were cooking scents coming from the kitchen and Sally just herded the kids to her car quickly and efficiently without revealing anything.

Dinner itself was reasonably utilitarian. Beth dressed respectably. This wasn't a romantic dinner for two, though the glances she shot him during the meal were speculative in a way that Reg had seen many times before. She was seeking something, but probably not cock. Something more ephemeral like the Truth.

After the meal, they sat on the couch, opposite poles with a chasm between them wider than the brocade.

"What happened to you, Reg? I mean...I went away to college and I came back and you were a real..." she stopped before she said something cutting.

"The short answer was you happened."

"What?" Anger marred her face. "How can you blame this all on me?"

"I said the short answer. A lot of things happened, but you were the big one."

She sat back, thoughtful. "I guess I need a longer answer."

"I had a lot of time to...reflect the last couple months. Thinking of 'how I became this huge disappointment to you.'" She had the grace to wince at that. "Plus Jim insisted I see Dr. Fredricks and that taught me a lot about myself." Reggie paused. "Look...you know my mom wasn't in the house."

"I know. And you never talked about what happened."

"My mom just...walked away from us. She met some guy and moved out. No forwarding address. No phone calls. Nothing. WE weren't enough to keep her at home."

Beth had a premonition of where this was going. "Reg...I was barely 20!"

He continued as if he hadn't heard. "But you came along. I thought you were different. I thought you were nothing like my mom. We'd had 4 good years of dating. We'd...bonded. I was putting money away for a ring when you ambushed me with that little speech in the restaurant. How we 'drifted apart'." How 'long distance relationships don't work and we should experience our youth freely'. How 'we could be friends and maybe see what develops later'."

This was a close to word for word description of what she'd said those many years ago, which indicated a lot to Beth. "You became a lecher because I broke up with you?" She looked at him incredulously. "That seems pretty shallow..."

"I became a 'lecher' because you decided to break up with me AFTER you'd already been spinning around on dates for a year before you made it official. Do you think you were the ONLY person I knew at your college? I got the news about the same time you decided to ditch me."

"Reggie...we...I mean I was a dumb girl. Kids break up all the time. We weren't exclusive..." her eyes belied her words however.

Reg decided to push that point. "Would you have been shocked if I had tried to put a ring on your finger?"

"Of course no...t." She winced. That admission told her everything she knew about their relationship and the implicit exclusiveness. "Reg...people get over that kind of thing all the time."

"And Some People Don't! I was already in a bad place when it came to women. My MOM decided some young cock was more important than her son. I thought you were different. I did. But then you were dating everyone in sight."

"Reg, it was only 5 or 6 dates..." she remonstrated.

"Dates or guys?"

"Guys." She dropped her head. "It started out innocently. I mean...we had sorority mixers and you just

had

to have an escort. It's mandatory. Then a friend needed a fourth to make a matched set and to keep her safe from some octopus...and they were fun. I just wanted to see what life was like. I didn't mean to hurt you. My friends were pushing me to get out and live a little so I didn't see the harm. It didn't mean anything. Some of them were really nice guys. You'd have liked them. It was just college. I was planning on coming back."

"And did you have sex with them?" He pressed.

"NO!"

"So I still had that to look forward to." He sighed. "At least you had the...class to break up with me only a little late. But let's not pretend that our little 'talk' was to clear the decks so you could do just that: have sex with other men when we were exclusive. Now you wanted to be friends. I was 'disposed of' just like with my mom. If the best woman I knew could do that to me, what chance did I have with any others? Women...I decided I didn't want to be some bitter guy like my dad who never trusted a woman again. I decided to see them as a distraction. A pleasant distraction. I was already handsome and sporty and so I worked on being urbane and charming. It is amazing how easy it is to pick up women when you don't give a shit if they say yes or no." His tone took on a proud lilt. "And they flocked to me. Some of them were your good friends. Some of them never told you. They didn't care...and that just reinforced my opinion of women."

"You think guys don't fuck around?" she said defensively. That revelation hurt her and had her wondering which friends of hers were unreliable. "They cheat more than women!"

Reg laughed. "I know men fuck around. Why do you think half the married women I've met came to me?"

She was silent, wondering how to broach that particular topic. She decided to attack it head on. "How did that start? I mean...the married women. According to the others, you cut quite a swath with the married women in town."

"Mrs. Hendricks. Do you remember her?" She nodded. "I sold her a car. So of course she had my card. And she kept calling about that damned car. Little details. The seat heaters. The lights. 'Oh...I locked my keys in the car. Can you be a dear and help me get them out?' She...came on to me strongly. And...it felt good. It felt REALLY good. Some woman, a substantial MATURE woman thought I was worth risking EVERYTHING for. I was a dumb ass kid. What did I have to lose? I could just walk away. She, on the other hand, she could have lost it all. Finally I felt...as if someone wasn't treating me like something subpar."

"I never thought you were subpar, Reg." Beth whispered quietly.

"That isn't how it looked from my side."

She squared her shoulders where she sat and looked at him. "So...you became the man who stole your mother. Is that what you're telling me?"

Reg winced. "Yeah...and when Dr. Fredricks pointed out that fact...well...I hadn't wanted to connect the dots. And I'm still screaming at myself for that. It's...hard for me to look at women as anything but cheating bitches. I know it's not true intellectually...but the wounds go deep. Dad...he did the best he could but he didn't always help."

"So...what was I? Just another trophy to show that I was just as much a cheating slut as every other woman you'd bedded? Some culmination to see if you could drag me down even farther? Did you hate me so much that you had to do that to me?" She looked forlorn and shattered.

Reg's ire raised itself in defense of his ego. "WE did it together. Because let's not forget. WE had a history together. YOU weren't happy with Wes. You told me all about it or don't you remember?"

"So you took advantage. You never liked Wes." She threw at him.

"I never liked Wes because Wes had you! And I knew he didn't deserve you!" Reg shouted.

That Reg carried a little bit of a torch for her wasn't a surprise. It had been a touch of flattery which she indulged in quite a bit over the years. But this last...Her face froze. "What...what do you mean by that?"

"I mean Wes was constantly trying to get his dick wet. I am not saying this to make to excuse what you did. It's the truth. He wanted to go cruising with me all the time. He didn't take his vows seriously." Reg looked at her pointedly. "Neither did you. While I can say I fucked some married women, I have NEVER cheated on anyone."

Her shoulders shaking from restrained tears, she asked "You think that makes what you did alright?"

Reg could see her distress and his hands curled in impotent sympathy. "No...but I'm not allowing myself to be the only punching bag anymore. I'm owning the wrongs I did. But you need to own your own lump of mud and not blame everything on me."

The room was quiet as Beth sat there with her eyes closed, rocking back and forth. When it came, the explosion took Reg by surprise. "That miserable moralizing hypocritical piece of shit! Do you know how much he sneered at me when he found out? The names he called me? Do you know how...low he made me feel about myself? And now...NOW you tell me that he was trying to score that entire time? WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME? Get out! Just...get out!" They both sat there, frozen. Then slowly, he stood up.

"Wait. It's late." She was silent for several moments. "I think...I think you've recovered enough here. You still have an apartment and you probably want to get on with your life without the 'distractions' of an old divorced woman and a couple of kids. I'll drive you over there tomorrow afternoon. I'd like to have my bed back please. You can sleep on the couch."

It was a sleepless night for Reg. It hadn't occurred to him that he had betrayed her twice by not telling her. The crying from the bedroom just reemphasized that point.

++

Back to an empty apartment. He had gotten used to the life, the warmth, and bustle of Beth's little house. His phone had a number of pictures of the kids and Beth on it.

It was his second day there when his phone rang. "Reg." It was Beth.

"Hi. Look...I wanted to apologize to you. You were right. It was a shitty thing to do. I think I was driven a little by bitterness. It's one more thing I'm really not proud of." He had to get this out now. He knew he might never get another chance.

"I...know. Reg...I have to ask you this. This is an important question."

"Over the phone?" He wanted to smell her scent again.

"Yes. Over the phone. It's this or nothing."

His shoulders slumped. "Okay. Ask. I owe you all the answers you want."

"Reg, you chased me for at least a month. Maybe longer. Man, you were smooth." There was a hint of accusation in her voice. "Hooked me like a fish." Her tome became matter of fact. A 'we will talk about these awful things like dispassionate grown ups' voice. But he could hear the tension...and curiosity. "But not once...not once did you hint that Wes was fooling around. Wasn't he fooling around already? Or did that come later? Were you trying to make both of us look like fools?"

"No. He'd been asking and insinuating for months before I chased you."

"Then why? Why didn't you throw it in my face? Why didn't you use it to help get me to sleep with you?" There was a silence on the phone. "Reg? Are you there? I thought you said you'd give me answ..."

"Yeah. I'm here." He took a deep breath. "I didn't tell you about Wes because when I decided to try to seduce you, I wanted you to be with me because you

wanted me

, not because you were angry at Wes. That...would have cheapened it for me. You weren't the only person to remember what we had, who didn't wonder constantly, day after day about what might have been. I see now why Dad was the way he was. He never got over Mom either." There, he'd said it. The phone buzzed faintly. "Beth?"

"I'm sorry." Her voice was broken. "I can't...I can't talk...I need to call you later." The phone clicked to the sound of her sobs.

Reg looked at his phone with its 'call ended' sigil. She'd said later.

++

Reg walked up the pavers to the backyard. The afternoon breeze carried the scent of honeysuckle and cut grass to tickle his nose. The scents and sounds of a barbecue wafted over the privacy fence at Jim's house. He carried a huge box of cupcakes he'd bought. Baking wasn't one of his skills, but he had a good rolodex of places with fun, cute and romantic gifts and foods.

In back, Jim was at his grill, a large box of hot dogs and burgers next to him. Reg didn't care about that. He waved absentmindedly.

Hank was sitting by his wife, holding hands with her. It was nice he got a long weekend before Fall hit hard. But Reg didn't care about that either. He think he gave a nod to them.

The teens of Jim and Hank were in a knot, occasionally talking to smaller kids. Jimmy waved and waved repeating "Hi Uncle Reg" until he was acknowledged with an absent minded wave which made him feel guilty in retrospect.

His hands were suddenly empty. He'd...he couldn't remember where the cupcakes went. His eyes cast around the yard three, four times, head swiveling back and forth. Finally, Sally came up to him, grinning and having mercy on him. "She's in the kitchen. I think she blew half her food budget for the week and she's fretting over all the things she's preparing. She's nervous as a cat."

Reg barely heard. He brushed by Sally as if she wasn't there, which got a laugh from behind him.

In the kitchen, she was bent over, putting a baking pan in the oven. She stood and saw him and her mouth quirked in a self conscious smile as her hand came up and with the back, tried to put some order into her slightly disarrayed hair. He found his fingers twitching, wanting to help her move the wayward strands back into place.

On the stool in the kitchen, he finished laughing at her story and put the burger down...and then he looked at it. Where did this burger come from? He glanced at the window and blinked. It was night! She was sitting, nibbling on some carrots and looking at him, a small smile on her face. What had they been talking about? They must have been talking. He looked around the kitchen. Most of the dishes, which he vaguely remembered helping her with, were gone or their empty remnants laid around them.

"I guess we lost track of time." Beth said with a grin.

"Ya think?" Reg had to grin back. "I'm surprised no one bothered us."

She looked at him with amusement. "Reg, they were walking in and out and around us for the whole," she glanced at the clock and blushed, "three hours."

What could he say besides "Oh"?

The kitchen phone rang on the breakfast island and she thoughtlessly reached over and picked it up. "Hello, Talbot residence." Her face dropped suddenly an her left arm immediately came across her body to grip her right. "What?" her tone was brusque. "They are having a barbecue." Pause "Yes, the kids are here..." Her eyes flicked to Reggie. "No...I don't...no, that isn't a good idea. If you want to see them, call me later and we'll arrange something...I don't think that's your business. Hang on." She muted the phone, gave Reg a look he couldn't decipher and went outside with the walk around phone to find Sally.

She didn't come back into the kitchen and he found her outside with the group, cleaning up. Whatever warm intimacy that existed earlier had evaporated.

++

Jim came in from a large trash run and found Sally on the couch, holding the kitchen phone. She did not look happy.

"What's up?"

"That was Wes. He, well he had a lot to say about us inviting Reg over here. But he really called to ask us to help him get back together with his children and away from Reg."

Jim slumped into the couch next to her. "Oh shit."

Principles were damnable things sometimes...

++

"People make a mistake about the nature of souls." Ed started to say to Reg. Reg was safely ensconced on a stool in the Second Chances Saloon looking at a vodka and soda. He's picked this place because he was least likely to see any of the players he used to hang around. There seemed to be a 'no scumbag policy' about the place...and he hoped it extended to armed psychopaths as well.

Reg squirmed uncomfortably. "I'm not religious. And this is hardly a church..." he said, looking around the Second Chance Saloon. "I don't believe in souls."

"Really? And what do you think is looking back at you when you force yourself to look in a mirror? This isn't a Christian concept. It's almost universal in mankind, from the Ancient Egyptians to the Mongols. Anyway, there is a spiritual element in mankind, regardless of your religion which always seems to find expression, a seeking to perfect this soul you say doesn't exist whether it be through religion, philosophy, vegetarianism, or the proper role of wealth distribution to ensure the perfection of society, which seems pretty darned ambitious if you ask me. Most religions only want to 'fix' one heart at a time and hope the aggregate will 'fix' society by itself, not try to change the whole thing enmass by tax code. The 'soul', which we'll use to describe this, is that part of you which is self reflective and involves your moral sense." Ed stopped and poured another drink. "But I'm also using it as a metaphor for one's history and story. What is Reg? Is he a broken wretched lecher who can't control his penis, or is he something else? The 'heart' of Reg, what people can expect from him, that is his 'soul'. And people spend their entire lifetime trying to figure out how to read that in others."

"So what am I and how do people get it wrong?"

"Most people imagine a soul is a shirt. A newborn baby gets a new white shirt, stainless and pure. He then proceeds to spend the rest of his life getting it grubby. People are then stuck trying to figure out how 'grubby' a person they will let into their lives and hearts. Some believe that their strength of character is so strong that their shirt can't be stained; that there is something intrinsically wrong in people who have grubby shirts. Others believe that faith in this or that, or regular acts of good works or donations can give their soul a spin cycle. But that is not the case."