The Last Chimes of Fall

"I'm sorry honey," I said, "really."

Kris walked over, now grinning after the initial shock, and gave me my usual welcome home hug and kiss. On the way back to the stove she casually lowered the screen of her laptop.

"You forgot Jerry and Rita Anderson," I said. "You can't forget Jerry, he's always the life of the party."

I seemed to detect a hint of nervousness in Kris' voice. "They can't make it this year," she said. "They're going out of town that weekend."

I was legitimately sorry to hear that. Jerry was Kris' friend before I met him, but he was also a longtime friend of mine and was always the comedian.

"Oh that's too bad," I replied, "Jerry's always good for a dozen laughs. Remember the Christmas party a couple years ago? He walked around all night with mistletoe hanging from his belt buckle."

I didn't think anything more about it until the following month. I was on the golf course with the three guys I usually play with. We had all known each other for years.

"Hey did you hear about Rita and Jerry Anderson?" asked Gary. "They up and moved to Phoenix or someplace out there."

"What?" I asked. I knew he had to be mistaken. Jerry worked at the airport, had for over twenty years. He loved his job, there was no way he would move. "No, come on, Jerry would never quit his job and just move. You must have heard wrong. Hell Kris has known Jerry for fifteen years, there's no way he'd leave without saying goodbye to her."

"I'm telling you," said Gary adamantly, "they're gone. I heard they were having problems. I think Jerry was seeing someone else but I'm not sure about that."

"Okay," I said. "Now I know you must be wrong, Jerry fucking around on Rita; no way!"

"All I know Brent is that they're gone. I heard Jerry took early retirement, the house is already sold...the whole ball of wax."

I still couldn't believe it. Then I thought of Kris telling me they would be out of town for our party. "When did they move?" I asked

"About mid-March," said Gary. Mid-March, it was almost the end of April when Kris and I were discussing the guest list for our Bar-B-Que. She must have known that they had moved by that time. I wondered why she didn't just tell me instead of saying they would be out of town for our party.

Something didn't feel right; was Kris hiding something from me? As far as I knew Kris had never lied to me or had she ever given me cause to doubt or suspect her of anything. I'm probably making too much of this, I thought as I stepped up to the third tee and let fly with one right down the middle.

I hadn't thought anymore about it until the day of the party. Between friends, relatives, neighbors, and all the kids, we must have had sixty people all milling around the house and back yard. As usual, I got stuck with grill duty while Kris floated around being the perfect hostess.

I was quickly running out of hamburger buns and had to run into the house to get some more. I opened the kitchen cabinet door and was looking for more buns when I heard my wife from the other side of the wall talking with Jan, one of her best friends.

"So, what did Rita say to you?" I heard Jan ask.

"Shhhh," my wife shushed her friend then lowered her own voice so I could barely make out what she was saying. "She told me she would scratch my eyes out if she ever saw me again."

What; did I just hear her correctly, I wondered? Rita and Kris were friends; why would Rita want to scratch her eyes out? This didn't make sense. I was no detective but it didn't take Sherlock Holmes to figure out something wasn't right. I quietly took the buns and left. I had to think. As Holmes would say, 'The game's a-foot.' I had to figure this out.

It didn't take me long; by the time I got back to the grill I could only come up with one explanation, and I didn't like it. First, Kris evidently lied when she said they would be out of town. She had to know by that time that they had actually moved. Then Gary heard Jerry was fucking around on Rita and now Kris says Rita wants to scratch her eyes out. It was elementary my dear Watson...Kris and Jerry had an affair!

Suddenly my stomach was tied in knots. I almost threw up on the burgers. I called out for anyone, the closest human to the grill, to please watch it while I went in the house for a little while. I walked right past Kris and Jan who were still talking in the dining room.

I must have looked sick when I passed because Kris asked if I was okay. I just mumbled and headed straight for the bathroom. Kris came to the door and heard me vomiting. "Brent, are you sick? Are you okay? What's the matter, honey?"

"I'll be okay," I yelled through the door. "I just got a sudden upset stomach. I'll be alright in a few minutes."

I could hear her concern but told her to go out and take care of our guests. I assured her I would be fine in a few minutes.

Between throwing-up and quietly crying, I had no idea how long I had been in there. Finally I washed my face and tried to look presentable again. When I came out Kris was waiting outside the door. Just as she approached Jan was coming over as well. "Is he okay?" Jan asked.

"I don't know," Kris replied looking into my face. With true concern she asked me, "Honey are you alright, is it your stomach?"

I guess I was a little short with her. "I said I'll be fine, go out and take care of our guests," I said with an edge to my voice.

Kris and Jan looked at each other. You could just hear the wheels turning wondering if I knew something.

"Okay honey," Kris said anxiously. She and Jan went back out to the party through the kitchen. I just wasn't able to face people yet so I went up to our bedroom to think. I sat on the edge of the bed and buried my face in my hands.

I had to be wrong, I thought. Like I said, I'm not Sherlock Holmes. I'm sure I'm jumping to the wrong conclusion. There is just no way at all that Kris would cheat on me, and certainly not with Jerry. He was funny; almost clown like, but sure as hell no Don Juan. No, this had to be all a big mistake. Tonight, after everyone is gone and the kids are asleep I'll talk to Kris. I'm sure she'll be able to straighten all this out.

After convincing myself I had to be wrong, I actually felt a little better and returned to the party. As soon as Kris saw me she walked over and put her arm around me. "Are you sure you're okay, honey," she asked again while reaching up and kissing my cheek.

"I'll be fine," I told her again, this time in a more pleasant tone of voice.

The party lasted well into the night with the last of the hard-core revelers making their exodus around ten-thirty. After a very full day, Catherine and Brea were both asleep as fast as their heads hit the pillow. I suggested we also get a good night's sleep since we had a lot of cleaning up to do the next day.

I knew it wasn't my imagination, Kris was nervous. I could see it as I followed her into our bedroom. She knew something was bothering me, even if she wasn't sure what it was. I stood behind her and watched as she sat at her dressing table taking her ear rings off.

"Why would Rita Anderson want to scratch your eyes out?" I asked bluntly.

I saw her freeze. She looked at my image in the mirror. She seemed to be at a loss for words. Then I saw tears welling up in her eyes and I knew then it was true.

"There is only one reason I can think of why one woman would want to scratch out the eyes of another," I said in an accusatory tone. "A couple months ago you told me they couldn't make it to our party because they had another engagement. Then I learned that they moved. Gary tells me Jerry was screwing around with another woman and today I heard you tell Jan that Rita wanted to scratch your eyes out. Please Kris-please tell me the other woman wasn't you."

Kris burst out in tears. All of a sudden I couldn't feel my legs anymore. I half fell and half sat down on the edge of the bed. I just stared at my hysterical wife. This can't be happening, I thought. My whole world just came crashing down on me.

I guess I was the first to recover. "I'm not sleeping with you tonight," I said angrily while taking a spare pillow from the closet. "I'll sleep on the couch. I don't know how this is going to play out, Kris. I really don't think I can handle this. I've never been hurt so bad by anyone in my entire life and especially not by someone who claims to love me."

"I do love you," Kris managed to say between sobs.

"Yeah, right," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Don't bother coming down stairs, I don't want to see you tonight." With that I vehemently marched out of the room and down stairs.

Try as I did, after tossing and turning half the night there was just no way I was going to get any sleep. I finally went for a walk. I don't know how long I was gone, a couple hours probably, but when I got back Kris was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee.

"I was watching from the bedroom window when you left," she said. "I thought I'd make some coffee for when you came back."

I looked down at the floor and just shook my head. "I don't believe it. You hear about this kind of thing happening to others but not you...not us."

"Honey it d..."

"Don't tell me it didn't mean anything, don't you dare say that. It means everything. It means our marriage is destroyed. It means our happy home is gone. It means the woman who promised to love, honor, and cherish me thought those vows meant nothing. Don't you dare say it didn't mean anything."

Kris put her head in her hands and started to cry all over again. I just couldn't take it. Under normal circumstances my heart would be broken watching Kris cry like that, but at least for right now, it had turned to stone.

I went back up stairs and quickly packed a bag. I didn't even look in her direction as I hit the bottom stair and headed for the door. "I'm going to stay at the studio for a while. I have no idea for how long. You can clean this fuck'n place up by yourself tomorrow. I don't give a flying fuck!"

I didn't hear from anyone for three days, then the business phone in the studio rang. It doesn't have caller ID.

"Brent's Commercial Photography," I announced as I picked it up. There was a short pause.

"Brent, it's Greg," it was Kris' step-dad and it sounded as if he'd been crying.

"Hello Greg," I greeted sadly.

"Son, I...I'm so sorry. I just don't know what to say except that I'm so very sorry." He was starting to break down again.

"Kris told you then?"

"She told us the whole story son. She said she had an affair and you found out. Thi...this hurts us too son, I...I just can't get over it."

I could hear Kris' mother crying in the background. I wondered if Kris had any idea how much pain she caused the people that loved her most.

Just then I heard a familiar voice that sounded like it came from in the room. "Greg where are you?" I asked.

"We're at the house son. We just couldn't leave Kris alone at a time like this. Ah, don't get the wrong idea, Brent, we're not condoning Kris' behavior in any way, but she is our daughter and I thought it would be better for the kids as well."

"How are they doing Greg?"

"Well, I won't lie to you, they're taking it pretty hard. Kris took all the responsibility and told the kids this was all her fault, but...well, they still keep asking when daddy is coming home."

Hearing about my kids was ripping out my heart.

"Brent," continued Greg. "Kris wants to know if you would consider marriage counseling? I...ah, I'm begging you myself, son. Please, at least give it a chance. I can only imagine how much you must be hurting, but if there's a chance in hell of repairing your marriage, I pray you'll take it.

"Why didn't Kris ask?"

"She didn't think you would talk to her," replied Greg.

"Tell her to set it up and call me herself with the where and when and I'll be there."

"Oh God, Brent, thank you. You don't know what this means to all of us. Thank you so much son. I'll let her know and have her call you with the details."

"Okay Greg. I've got to go now, I have work to do."

We said our goodbyes and ended the call. After several days of trying to sort things through I was no closer than the night I walked out. I did not want to end our marriage but I just couldn't see how I could not. I prayed a marriage counselor could show me the way.

Less than two hours Greg called, Kris called back with a schedule. Her voice was so weak I almost didn't recognize it. The first session was the following Monday at seven in the evening, four more days away.

When I walked into the counselor's office Kris was already there. I never saw her look so bad. Her normally luxurious hair was sticking out at the ends. Her eyes were red and had dark circles under them. She was holding a hanky and her hands were shaking. I should feel sorry for her I thought, but I didn't.

I sat down two chairs over from where she was sitting. Our counselor introduced herself. She was a nice looking elderly lady by the name of Betty. She wanted us to use first names, she said, to help keep everything friendly. She wanted Kris to explain how the affair got started and to explain what significance it had in her life.

Kris said it started innocently. When he was working nights, Jerry would come over for coffee during the day and they would joke around and flirt with each other. One day he slapped her butt. She turned around, but instead of slapping his face and telling him to get out, like she should have done, she playfully grabbed his balls.

Kris told the counselor Jerry was always so silly it didn't even feel like she was cheating. It was more like two kids playing house. There were never any emotional ties between them; one never mentioned love or having any feelings for the other. Jerry acted the part of a clown. He would stand up on the bed after fucking her, beat his chest and do a Tarzan yell.

I listened to as much as I could. This was a bad idea, I thought. Hearing Kris talking about fucking another man was just making me more infuriated. About a half hour into the session I stood up.

"Stop," I yelled, "stop, please stop! I can't listen to any more of this." I looked directly at Kris when I spoke. "It's not going to work. As much as I love you there is just no way for us to get back together. Every time I looked at you, held you, kissed you, I'd think of that bastard Jerry. Darling you couldn't have hurt me more if you had slowly stabbed me in the heart and twisted the knife."

Kris looked into my face. Her voice trembled. "I'm so sorry Brent. God I'm so very, very sorry."

"I know you are Kris, and I know you love me. It's not even a matter of trust. I doubt very much you'd ever do this again. It's the hurt. I will never get past the hurt."

"Honey," her voice was hoarse from the stress. "My dad said he could get Jerry to apologize to you. Would that help honey? Dad said he would work at contacting him for me and get him to call you."

"Jerry!" I could feel my face getting even more red. "If you ever talk to that mother fuck'n son-of-bitch again, you tell him for me he better never cross my path because if he does, they'll take him away in a stretcher."

I could see the shock on Kris' face. She'd never heard me talk about anyone like that before, never even heard me use that kind of language before.

I continued, "I have never hated a man in my life until now. He robbed me of my marriage, my happiness, my life, and my very soul. If I thought for two minutes I could get away with it, I'd put a bullet right between his fucking eyes and never give it another thought."

By the look in Kris' face, I think she realized the consequences of her, non-emotional affair. I was a different man. I turned and walked out. As I started down the hall I heard the therapist say, "I'm sorry Kris, there's nothing I can do, he's too deeply hurt."

***

My body convulsed as another bolt of excruciating torture shot through my chest. I was losing ground and I knew it. My only hope was to get my phone in the house. I could feel the cold breezes getting stronger as daylight was slipping away. My left side was numb. I used all the strength I could conjure up to twist my body onto my stomach. I looked forward, the ten feet between me and the steps to the back porch looked like a mile. I reached out using my fingers as a claw, digging into the frozen ground, and trying to pull myself toward the house.

I could feel myself drifting in and out of consciousness. "Ooh, look how beautiful." I heard Sandy, my wife. I could hear her voice. "God has his paintbrush out again, and I have the pleasure of watching with the man I love."

Chapter three; "Sandy"

Blocking out the pain, my mind drifter back to that early spring morning so many years ago. The sun hadn't been up for very long but already the birds sang with glee knowing the day ahead would be filled with magic and wonderment.

Funny, after divorcing Kris, somehow I thought time would stop, but it didn't. Year by year the girls grew up into beautiful, intelligent young ladies. With our children as the common link, Kris and I were never far apart. I bought a condo just two miles from the house and for many years the girls would stay with me on the week-ends. Sometimes Kris would ask me over to help Brea or Catherine with their homework, or to assist with some household project, and I always obliged.

Three times over the last nine years Kris asked if there wasn't some way we could be together again, but that would never happen. I still loved Kris and knew I always would, but the pain of her betrayal was still there as well. It was as if both the love and the hurt lived side by side with-in my heart, one never being able to cancel the other out.

On this particular Sunday morning, however, all I was thinking about was beating my three buddies in eighteen holes of golf. I was on my way to join them at our seven a.m. tee time when I absentmindedly made a wrong turn. I didn't know it at the time, but that wrong turn would change my entire life.

My new convertible was only a month old and it was the first day I was able to drive with the top down. With the wind in my hair and the first tee waiting, I was enjoying my leisurely drive and didn't realize my error in navigation until I was a couple miles down the wrong road.

Dang it, I said to myself, get your head out of the clouds and watch what you're doing, Brent. I turned left into the first driveway I came to so I could back out and go back the way I came. As I pulled in I noticed the cutest little Cape Cod style house in front of me.

A quick scan of the shabby looking yard told me the place was probably empty. What a shame, I thought. I put the car in reverse and tuned my head to start backing out of the drive. That's when I saw it, a for sale sign. I'm not quite sure what came over me. I had a perfectly nice condo that had been my home for many years. I did not need a house, yet it was like some powerful, mystic force that made me grab a pen and paper and write down the agents name and number.

As soon as I met my friends at the course all I could talk about was the darling little house I saw on the way there. One guy in our foursome, just before sinking a twelve foot putt, reminded me of the added maintenance I would have with a house. I agreed. There was no reason in the world why I needed to buy a house. We stopped at the clubhouse after the front nine for a cold beer before finishing our round.

Once again that strange, almost supernatural force pulled me to the pay phone in the hall and I found myself dialing the number I took from the sign.

"Hello," answered the female agent. "Sandy speaking."

"Ah, hi Sandy," I said just remembering it was Sunday. "I'm sorry, I was calling about the little house for sale on Herlitz drive, but I should probably call you during the week."