Stepping in the River Twice

I'd been going to Mass for almost three months. No, Margo never did join me and I don't think she ever came to the Cathedral to check on me again. Nor did Margo and I ever talk about her "checking" up on me. Maybe she felt a little Catholic guilt? Regardless she seemed to be genuinely okay with my Sunday morning Mass and I did benefit from the clarity it gave me. It gave me clarity in that I began to heal my personal wounds and reconcile personal guilt.

It was Pentecost Sunday and Father Riley delivered an emotional Homily about the importance of moving our eyes from the skies to beginning to get on with the evangelic work of Jesus and his Disciples. Father Riley was near tears as he exhorted parishioners to raise themselves up to work for God without fear of being persecuted by modern day Romans. For those of you who are not familiar with Pentecost it is the time when Jesus, several weeks after being resurrected from the tomb, ascends into heaven and the Holy Spirit descends, as it did for the early Apostles, onto all of us.

Persecuted? I had never felt persecuted! Maybe not in the strict definition of the word but I had been beating up on Margo and myself. "You each have a choice." Father Riley was walking into the congregation to be personal, something I'd never seen him do. "You each have a decision to make. You can continue to keep your eyes on the heavens waiting for Jesus to come again or you can look around you and do something for your neighbor. The freedom to choose rests within each of you! Don't miss the opportunity that is at your feet." I had never thought of emotional pain as an opportunity but then any change in our life can be an opportunity, at least until we die.

"You have the choice to remain stuck in judgment of others or embrace His commandment to Love your neighbor as you love God." Did I love Margo as I loved God? I was struggling with the concept of loving God let alone loving my neighbor! If I couldn't love Margo did that mean I didn't love God? It was a conundrum I had no answer for.

I had not made any decisions to that point in my life. All of my decisions had been decisions born out of distrust, fear and a desire to exact punishment. They'd all been made with the intent of punishing someone I once loved without question. The problem had been that I'd judged them based on what I thought was true and what I wanted to believe. I'd always thought Margo loved me and gave that love only to me. Sounds selfish to hope someone would love you in return to the same degree you loved them.

I wasn't thinking the opportunity was to choose Jesus or to continue to live a non-Christian life. I just needed to make an honest choice about what I wanted to do with regard to my marriage. No, I would not seek a divorce mainly because I believed you only marry once only to find someone else and marrying again. Divorce had never been part of the plan, at least not part of my plan. Had I become boring? Had I become so judgmental that I would never reconcile with Margo? Did I mistrust her that much? Did I mistrust myself?

Five months or more, had passed since I'd walked in on Margo and Stan, kissing. Since her confession I have not touched her but I have not divorced her. I'd believed loving her again was not possible. So it came to pass that one Sunday, after I'd gotten home from Mass, I found myself cooking breakfast for Margo and I. I'd had a "moment" during Mass where I found myself sitting back in the pew seeing what I was doing to Margo. I wasn't punishing her or trying to make her feel all-the-more guilty I was the one now testing her to see if she if she could remain faithful. I was testing her resolve to stay married. I was also testing myself to see if my love for her could transcend the mistrust.

After all, I wanted to believe Margo, didn't I?

When I got home from Mass I could hear her in the bathroom upstairs taking a shower. I needed to talk to her, honestly talk to the woman I'd married so many years ago.

So I started cooking. The smell of bacon filled our home. Sliced papaya with lime was on the table and fresh coffee was brewing. I'd just put a frittata in the oven knowing it would be ready in about fifteen minutes. I'd also poured 2 glasses of apple juice and was sitting at the kitchen table when Margo joined me.

"What is all this? Our last supper?" I rarely fixed breakfast so this was a surprise and you never really know when your last meal will be.

"Nope. It is just breakfast." Margo, being Margo, was suspicious, especially after five months of no physical contact.

"Why am I suspicious?" She sat down taking a sip from her coffee. It was one of the first mornings in a long time when she was not dressed seductively.

"Because, well, because I've been an unreasonable asshole. I've missed you and thought it time we figured out how to get our shit together. Got any ideas?" We had not had a two-way conversation for the last five months and here I was attempting to move towards reconciliation. I also wanted to begin to atone and reconcile the mistrust, fear and love I still held for Margo. In other words I wanted to begin the process of healing the rift that had developed between Margo and myself.

"You're leaving me aren't you?" Didn't Margo hear what I'd just said? I was a little surprised wondering where her statement came from, and then tried putting myself in Margo's place. The reality of five months of no sex or affection had taken its toll on both of us.

"No, Margo, I am not leaving. . ."

"You don't need to lie to me. Be honest with me at least this one time! You've jerked me around long enough and I am at my wits end!" There it was, a side of Margo characterized as an ungrateful fearful bitch that projected her "stuff" onto me.

"Margo, what just happened!? I'm not lying to you or jerking your chain. I'm trying to admit I've been an asshole and want us to find a way to reconcile things between us." Margo's eyes seemed to be two burning coals of mistrust which floored me. I felt like I was swimming in quicksand and had no idea what got me, us, here.

"You know what just happened! Your girlfriend is having your baby and you don't have the fucking courtesy to tell me!" Had Margo lost her mind?! Now I at least had some inkling as to what was bothering her even if her allegation was from outer space. I just had to figure out who this "girlfriend" was. The thought crossed my mind that it might be Jenny she was referring to but I had my doubts. Jenny would be 5 months along, if it was her. There was also the fact I had not seen her in five months, which didn't rule out the possibility but was most unlikely a possibility.

For a minute I contemplated confessing to Margo about that afternoon with Jenny then decided to make sure Margo was talking about Jenny.

"Margo, who do you think this girlfriend is?"

"You know who she is! Why ask a dumb shit question!" Where did this shrew come from?

"Humor me, please. If I have knocked someone up then our marriage is over and we can go our separate ways. So, who is this woman?!"

"I don't know her name!" So, Margo had been checking up on me, maybe even following me to Church on Sundays. No matter the case it was clear Margo still had trust issues. Her trust issues probably went back to some unresolved relationship with her over bearing father. I didn't know this for fact and was quickly beginning to not care one way or the other.

I was also a little relieved she wasn't talking about Jenny.

The only person who attended the 7:30AM Mass who "looked" pregnant was the Cantor, who sang the Psalms and guided the congregation when singing selected hymns. I didn't really know her but knew her voice was wonderful to the ear and heart. The Cantor was friendly with everyone, was about 70-80 pounds overweight, but was not pregnant. There was no one else I knew who fit the description of being five months pregnant.

"Was this woman someone you saw at the Cathedral . . . wearing a red and white robe . . . and singing?"

"You know very well that's who I am talking about!" Yes, she was the Cathedral Cantor. Her name is Lola and she is not pregnant. It was a little late to read Acts, Revelations and the Genesis of jealously and guilt.

"Yes, Margo I know exactly who you are talking about. Her name is Lola and she is married and considerably over weight, but not pregnant." I wanted to just give up this futility and walk away. Our timing was horrible. Just as I think I am ready to reconcile with Margo, my wife, yet another insidious test slams into us with freight-train force.

"Margo, I think we are finished playing twenty questions. I know I am. Either you tell me who and where you know this pregnant woman . . . how you obtained this information . . . no, better yet, just tell me what it is you want and believe. I am through being tested with your unfounded jealous allegations. Go back to fucking Ken or whoever else rings your bells! I'm too tired to play these accusation-defense games."

I had not expected to be accused of getting someone pregnant especially at the very moment when I wanted to do the apology-for-being cold and distant. If nothing else our timing sucked big time.

"Enjoy your breakfast Margo and remember it is JUST breakfast. It was meant to be food for the body as we talked about feeding our souls and restoring the sacrament of our marriage. Lola is just the Cathedral Cantor." I stood up to leave suddenly not hungry or optimistic about the future as Mr. and Mrs. Bassler.

"Wait, Matthew, maybe I spoke too soon, without thinking. Please, Matthew, tell me what we need to do?" Her anger had evaporated and had been replaced with a heart-felt weeping person. It had been a bi-polar response that made me wonder if Margo was, in fact, mentally ill.

"Margo, I will not tell you, ever again, what to do other than to follow your heart and trust those you love and who love you. You tell me, when you have it figured out, what you want and how you think we should get there." It was important for Margo be responsible for her actions, be truthful, and communicate honestly.

"Oh, God what have I done?" Margo was speaking to no one, except maybe God, because I was learning not to listen to anything she said. I had no idea who Margo dad been listening to.

That conversation was held on a Thursday morning. I needed to get to work. Margo's work hours wouldn't start until 9:30-10:00AM. After getting to the office my boss told me to go home and sleep off whatever it was that was bothering me. I looked like hell so I drove over to Margo's new place of employment, the new Real Estate office and parked in the Bank parking lot across the street. I had no intention of going in to see her I just wanted to be in proximity to where Margo was. I was struggling with wanting to love and be with her yet knowing inside our marriage was beyond being in trouble.

I sat sipping cold coffee wondering how our lives had gotten to such a point and began to believe the marriage was finally over. As I sat watching, wondering if cops felt the same way on a stake-out, a dark blue Ford explorer pulled into one of the parking lot spaces. I was surprised when I recognized the tall blond woman step out of the car and toss her head to shake her long curly strands.

It was Jenny. What was Jenny doing here!? She'd left the Real Estate Office and moved on with her life.

As I watched her go into the offices I debated following her then changed my mind. Until my marriage problems were resolved I was not going to cheat again even if Jenny was one of the most sexually attractive women I knew.

Not more than 15 minutes passed before Jenny came back out with Margo behind her. Margo seemed to be doing all of the talking as she followed Jenny to her car. Once both women were in the car Margo reached over to hug Jenny, who seemed to be reciprocating. The hug didn't last too long but longer than a simple greeting. It was the kind of hug close friends gave one another when seeing each other after many months. Then Jenny broke the hold, started the ignition, and pulled out onto the road.

Yes, I followed them for approximately a mile before they pulled into the Pelican Restaurant & Lounge parking lot. I pulled up the curb across the street to watch and wait. My second surprise came when I saw Stan waiting at the entrance to the restaurant. Both women gave him a brief hug hello before they went inside.

I wanted to be angry and hurt when I saw Stan greet Jenny and Margo but somehow felt like the pieces to a strange puzzle were falling in place. Getting out of my car I crossed the street and did not hesitate to walk inside the Pelican. It was surprisingly well lit inside so it was easy to locate Stan, Margo and Jenny seated in a booth in the middle of the restaurant.

I don't think any of them saw me until I was standing beside their table then they all seemed to turn and look at me at the same time. Like any gestalt it wasn't possible for me to see each expression at the same time.

"Ah, three of my favorite people in the world together in one place all snug-as-bugs-in-a rug." I was being sarcastic. All three of them tried to speak at the same time so nothing made sense. I held up my hand to silence them. "No need for anyone to speak. Please just let me have my say then I will be on my way."

We were interrupted as the waiter dropped off drinks then excused himself saying he'd be right back.

"Stan, how are you? I don't really care how you are doing these days but since the day I walked in on you kissing Margo I haven't much liked you. Margo is a great piece of ass, isn't she? And Jenny, confidant extraordinaire, you listened to me cry when I thought my marriage was falling apart. I bared my soul to you and, well, now I see where your alliances really are. Margo, just when I thought I had found a way to reconcile your relationship with fuck-face here, well, here you are again. What can any of you say that I will believe?" They looked at each other for a minute before Margo turned back to me.

"Ah, a little bit too late Margo. Your parting question this morning, "What have I done?" is now a stupid question, don't you think? It really should be "What am I doing?" Imagine my surprise when I saw you and Jenny a little while ago and now here you sit with Stan-the-man. I realized the three of you worked together for several years so this little reunion means something is still afoot and I am no longer willing to play the part of the fool. If I was hurt when I saw you two lip locked many months ago imagine how I felt knowing you were fucking each other? Imagine how fucking stupid I feel standing beside your table? But the three of you know what is and has been going on. Have you all had a good laugh as I played the role of court jester and cuckold?"

Jenny held my gaze fiercely, not backing down from my unspoken challenge. Stan was looking at Margo as if waiting for her to respond. Margo seemed to be looking at a spot on the table cloth as she fought back tears. It was certainly a fucked-up scene and no author could write this script.

"They are ready to order now." I spoke the words to their waiter as I headed for the entrance to exit.

I was mildly curious how, on that particular day, the day I reached out to Margo only to be falsely accused of sleeping with the Church Cantor, that the three most influential people in my life, at least at that moment, all happened to be together. Their influence had not been a positive influence and the real reason for their meeting would never be revealed. I would never understand the "rest of the story", even if they told me the absolute truth, because I was now a non-believer, a skeptic. There was only one person I had faith in, and it wasn't Santa Clause or my wife.

Leaving the restaurant gave me a sense of relief.

Margo tried to fight the divorce and I think her remorse was genuine, just a little too late. The tape recording Jenny sent to me made it mentally and emotionally easier to divorce Margo. The digital tape recording showed up later that afternoon, a recording Jenny had made of a pivotal conversation between Stan and Margo. It confirmed Margo was spreading her legs for Stan as a way to capture an additional 3% of what she believed was "her" commission on home Margo sold.

Margo had been driven by a warped sense of jealously and need to cover up her prostitute like affair with Stan. Her tests were an attempt to verify I was true to her, that I still loved her, and hide her liaisons with her boss.

When my divorce from Margo was final I found myself going out to dinner, alone, to celebrate. I'd been involved with the Cathedral as a way to ground myself in the unconditional support of the faithful, of a community. It may have been easier to go to a bar and get flat drunk but it wasn't who I was.

I'd randomly chosen to go to the Grange for my "celebratory meal" and sat at their long comfortable wood bar. I'd been sitting at the bar eating a Brussels sprout salad and shrimp cocktail with a glass of Chardonnay. The lights were dimmed and you could see the unreal looking lights of the city beyond the ceiling high windows.

"Is this seat taken?" I'd always hated that line. It was cheesy. There was no one else at the bar and I recognized the woman's voice immediately. Just to make sure it was who I thought it was I looked up and into the wide mirror behind the bar. It was a deliberate movement on my part.

Her smell had me remembering what she'd tasted and felt like. She hadn't sat down yet as she hovered over my shoulder waiting for my response.

"Are you working?" I asked with as much seriousness as possible.

"I am always working but, for you, I will consider something more in trade. Do you have anything to trade?" I was trying to insult Jenny, implying she was the kind of woman who looked at life as a business transaction. Prostitutes, whose work is frequently contrary to what the law allows for, enter into business transactions.

Setting down my cocktail fork I turned to look at Jenny. She seemed to know exactly what I was doing.

"Come a little closer." I did not kiss her then, instead inhaled her scent and noticed she was not wearing a bra. "Jenny, where have you been?" I was genuinely curious as to what she'd been doing since our clandestine trip to the Philippines.

"Waiting in the shadows with my secrete." What women don't have secretes? Between Margo, Stan and Jenny there'd been a cavern of secretes concealed and locked in one lie after another. I didn't trust Jenny but certainly lusted for her.

"What secrete is that?" I knew what the secrete she referred to.

"Oh, it's a story about how I fell in love with someone and needed him to make love to me, over and over again. Think you can do that?"

It had been a long time since I'd been with a woman and Jenny certainly was everything a man could hope for. I didn't need to think about my answer but I also knew I did not love her.