To understand why the decorated Christmas tree was so out-of-place it is important to have a visual picture of where the Christmas tree was. The road leading to Bishop from Mammoth Lakes can be beautiful and austere at the same time. Mammoth Lakes is at 7,600 feet and Bishop is 4,600 feet. The drive "down" takes about 30 minutes and takes you through mostly stark and barren land. Sage and dried grass sprinkled with a few gnarly juniper trees constitute the rolling land scape. Here-and-there reddish-brown outcropping of rock further contribute to the starkness of the terrain.
To the East the craggy snow-capped Sierra Nevada range looms like a painted back drop. About 13 miles south of Mammoth Lakes Sherwin Summit tells you that the elevation is 7,000 feet and the immediate decent almost requires decompression. At the least I begin my gum-chewing to help keep my Eustachian tubes open.
Christmas last year Cheryl, my wife, and I got into an argument about whether the top of our Christmas tree should be decorated with a star or an angel. I was opting for a star because it represented, for me, the Star of Bethlehem and lit that evening to guide three Wiseman to the baby Jesus manager. Cheryl thought an angel needed to go on top of the tree, not because it represented the host of angels or anything remotely Christian, but because it gave the tree a richer, classier look. I relented and we ended up placing a white velvet angel on top of the tree.
It was, in the end, a beautiful Christmas tree. After turning around on Highway 395, so I was once again driving south I slowed down to get a better look at the 8-10 foot decorated pinion tree. It appeared to be the only thing growing within 50 yards and I was surprised I'd never seen the tree. Then again I never expected to see a decorated Christmas tree in the middle of "no-where".
The tree had a large gold star perched on top of it. The star didn't tell me anything other than the fact it provided an eerie reflected light as the early morning sun seemed to make the tree a beacon. I had to smile thinking I finally had a Christmas tree decorated the way I would have done it.
Nonetheless it hurt to see the tree because of the memory it evoked.
To think I'd spent most of this last year trying to "get over" last year's Christmas Eve surprise, that is, finding someone I loved so bad it hurt, with someone else. Sometimes you just don't "get over" things. You might grow old and through the grace of early onset Alzheimer's Disease be spared the painful memory of your love and how the emotion hurts like hell. Maybe this is the thing that causes people to turn bitter inside and shun the outside world? So what happened that Christmas Eve?
Cheryl had called from work to say she would be home around 8:00PM. She was apologetic and contrite and I did my best not to get angry. If it hadn't been for the fact that she had been "working late" frequently the last few weeks, spending less and less time at home, I think I simply "lost it" as I tried to inquire as to who works late on Christmas Eve? Who ignores their family? In the end I think I simply told her to do what she wanted and hung up on her. It was also the first time she'd called to tell me she had to work late that I didn't believe he! Yet, I had to run a last minute errand to pick up her Christmas present, a pair of diamond earrings and matching pendant. I had ordered them several months ago and began making payments early on to afford such an expensive gift. I knew I loved Cheryl dearly so I rationalized her working late would give me time to pick up her gift and finish roasting the prime rib. Yes, I had cooked Christmas Eve dinner complete with her favorites that included a sour cream apple pie for desert. In many ways it was also a romantic dinner designed to feed her senses and present her with a gift of my love.
While at the jewelry store picking up the gift I received a call from my brother who wanted to wish me a Merry Christmas. He was calling from the Chart House where he was having dinner with his entire office. When he learned I was alone until Cheryl got home he persuaded me to join him for a drink. It didn't take him long to convince me so I tucked the gift for Cheryl in my jacket pocket and drove to the Chart House.
I remember being surprised so many people were out on Christmas Eve shopping, eating, drinking and having a good time. That probably gives you an idea about how "traditional" I can be, even if I try and present the "liberal" front. My brother Harry was his gregarious self and was at the head of a long table to the back of the restaurant with glass windows as the backdrop. When he saw me he waved me over with a half-finished drink in his hand. I think back on that evening as if it was a slow-motion film that plays over-and-over in the back of my head. I remember smiling as I caught sight of Harry having a good time and smiling along with his infectious joy. I walked with a confident stride through people seated at fine-dining tables smiling and laughing. I also remember glancing to a row of booths along the opposite side of the restaurant where families and couples ate and drank.
It was a very intimate setting with a fireplace fire burning in the center of the restaurant. Stopping in the middle of the restaurant I remember seeing something that was so out of place that I didn't at first believe what I was seeing. Cheryl, my wife who had to work late, was at a table with a man I did not know. Cheryl was wearing a tasteful silk blouse that was unbuttoned 3 buttons down. She looked absolutely beautiful. What caught my eye was the fact she had a hand extended across the table, a hand that this man was holding. Both seemed lost in conversation so they never noticed me retrieve my smart phone, a Droid, and snap off two rather clear photographs. "Smart" phones really aren't very intelligent; they just allow you to do so much more than make a phone call. I can access my three email accounts, send messages, and take video records and photographs that tell more of a story than what is visible to the naked eye.
I was so shocked at what I just witnessed that thinking was out-of-the question.
Without speaking I turned and walked out of the restaurant. I did not look back or say hello-good-bye to my brother. I just remember sending the photographs to my personal email then getting in my FJ and making the drive to our condo. In retrospect I often wonder what would have happened if I had walked over to Cheryl's table punched her date and confronted her.
Retrospection is wonderful but it never changes the reality, whatever the reality is. I remember being hurt and shocked to the point where I simply felt, foolish. I felt foolish because I'd believed my wife; I'd loved her to the point of trusting her blindly. I felt foolish for feeling foolish then I got angry with myself for feeling foolish.
"So much for having to work. Merry Christmas Cheryl." The words seemed to slip from my lips like a gastrointestinal belch. No one heard me. When I made it home the smell of roasting prime rib hit me. It now was just a smell that did not make my mouth water. My appetite would not return until my body screamed for sustenance. I do remember, for a moment, wondering how long her affair had been going on, and then I thought it no longer mattered. Yes, I immediately assumed she and the well-dressed man were having an affair. At the very least Cheryl had blatantly lied to me. Yes, I was feeling sorry for myself and just wanted to be someplace far away where bull shit explanations were not necessary. At the same time I wanted friends and family to know why, on Christmas Eve I simply disappeared.
Without thinking much about what I was doing I printed off the two photographs and wrote on one these words, "So much for working late. I hope you will now be happy. Merry Christmas!" I dropped diamond gifts on the dining room table, un-wrapped, the price tag attached to the small boxes.
Yes the table was set with a linen table cloth, her mother's fine china, crystal wine goblets and sinning silver wear. I had gone all-out for this Christmas wanting it to be as memorable as possible. I'd wanted my wife to know how much I loved her.
Now I wanted her to feel my disappointment and my pain and I wanted her to feel it now! I reasoned she would not feel anything, especially if she could lie to me so easily on Christmas Eve!
Before I had time to think about what I was doing I created a distribution list that included several of our close friends, my brother, her parents and her current boss. (Did I mention the "Smart" phone let you do so much more than make phone calls?) I then attached the two photographs and added the following caption, "Who is this man dining with Mrs. Vasser on Christmas Eve? If you know him please DO NOT TELL her husband, he thinks she is just working late! Merry Christmas!" With a single click of the "send" button the message and photographs flew across cyber space to multiple destinations.
Yes, Cheryl would receive the message as well.
