You Wandered Down the Lane

It didn't take much looking around to figure out that Shelly'd made good on her ultimatum. Dirty breakfast dishes for two in the sink and a couple of coffee cups still on the kitchen table told the story. Last night's paper on the floor beside the recliner—my recliner—sealed the deal. Shelly never sat in my recliner.

More of the same in our bedroom and bathroom. Somebody else's shaving gear and toothbrush were on the bathroom counter, a couple of damp towels still hung over the shower curtain. My clothes had been shoved to the back of the closet rod, unfamiliar pants and shirts were hanging in their place. An open gym bag on the floor held underwear and socks.

Back in the kitchen, I didn't have long to wait. She came in the front door, talking on her phone. "No, just walked in the door. Why don't you stop for some—"

She froze when she spotted me in the kitchen. "Oh shit! He's back! Don't come here. I'll call you later." She shoved the phone in her purse and shrugged the purse off her shoulder onto the kitchen table, but didn't sit.

She'd been rattled when she first saw me, but was recovering quickly. "You could have let me know you were coming home, Luke. I had no idea where you'd gone and I've been worried sick about you. Where did you go, anyway? That wasn't very nice, leaving that way."

Nice?. "Sorry about that, I wasn't feeling particularly nice. But it was really thoughtful of you to leave me some room in the closet." It was obvious I knew. She sat heavily.

"Why... why didn't you tell me you were coming home?"

I shrugged. "Didn't think you'd care—"

"Of course I care! You didn't tell me where you were, never answered my calls or texts. I worried about you all the time you were gone..." She trailed off.

Worried. Yeah, right. We sat in silence for a few minutes, each trying to think of something to say that would hurt the other. I tried first.

"I see that your worrying didn't keep you from spreading your legs for whatshisname."

Anger flared up on her face, then quickly faded to resolve as she made the decision to brazen it out. "No, it didn't. And it was so good we did it again. Several times, as a matter of fact." She surged way ahead on points. "You probably want to know who—"

"Nope. Don't care." Damn! Should said don't give a shit! "You cheated, broke your vows. That's all that matters."

She smirked. "Now your precious ego's hurt. And just how many women did you fuck while you were gone? That is why you left, isn't—"

"Just one, same as you, although we made love. And no, I left because—"

"I'll bet you went to York and" She mimed air quotes. "made love to Lily. You've carried a torch for her all these years. On your trip, was she really the only—"

"Oh, there were more offers, but I turned them—"

"Oh please. Come to the 21st century. I think you'd like—"

"Not if you're the poster girl." She flinched. That won me a few points.

"God, Luke, I can't believe you're such a goody-two-shoes. Where've you been all your—"

We'd passed the point of no return. "All my life? Trying to do the right thing, even when it wasn't easy. Fat lot of good it did me, huh? Sure didn't keep your legs together. I guess that makes me a loser."

"You said it, not me. Besides, you didn't even try." The weak return cost her a few more points.

We traded points back and forth for a while, but finally ran out of gas. She offered to fix dinner, but I told her I'd take care of myself. We took turns in the kitchen, then she went upstairs and I settled in the living room. On the couch. Damned if I'd sit in "my" recliner again. I turned on the TV but didn't pay much attention.

She came down a couple of hours later, still mad. "Well, have you grown up yet?" By this time my anger had been replaced by the numbing realization that our marriage was over. I didn't say anything.

"If you're planning to stay here tonight you'll have to sleep on the couch."

No way. "Lisa and Tanner's rooms are both emp—"

"Uh-uh, I don't think either one of them would like you in their bed. They're pretty pissed. So no. It's the couch or the floor."

Like hell! I wasn't about to sleep on the damn couch or the floor. "I'll sleep in Lisa's room and she'll just have to deal with—"

"Why are you being such a bastard about this? Okay, I'll sleep in Lisa's room and you can have the master bed—"

"Bullshit! I'm not sleeping where you and your new friend spent every night rutting... no wait, it's the 21st century... spent every night fucking. Lisa's a big girl, she can get over it."

Shelly's jaw dropped. It might have been the first time she'd ever heard me say that apparently-now-commonplace word. I might have blurted it once in a while in the heat of passion, but those times were long gone. I took advantage of her temporary paralysis to get my suitcase from the kitchen and take it up to Lisa's—for the moment my—room and close the door.

WE BOTH FELT like the victim, but things ended more quickly and calmly than I'd expected. A few days later Shelly came into the living room where I was pretending to watch television. She stood beside me for a few seconds, then spoke so quietly I could barely make it out.

"What happened, Luke? How did it come to this? How did we get here?" I couldn't hear any snark in her voice, just sincere confusion and maybe a hint of sorrow. The longer I tried to think of answers, the less certain I was that I was the victim and she was the villain. We were both victims. Hell, the kids were victims, too. I could feel my anger starting to let go.

"I don't know Shelly, maybe it started so long ago and so small that we didn't notice until it was too late." She didn't respond, just shivered a little. "But we don't have to let it keep getting worse. Our marriage is over, but can't we find some way to stop hurting each other?"

I stood and gently grasped her shoulders. "Are you willing to try?"

She started crying softly. "I am if you are. We're still Lisa and Tanner's parents. For their sake, if nothing else, we need to stop being so angry and cruel."

She wiped her tears and tried to smile. "Could you please hug me? I know I killed our love, but I always feel safe in your arms." After a brief hesitation, I wrapped my arms around her and she laid her cheek on my chest. It was odd, but somehow I, too, felt safe holding her and knowing we were no longer enemies, we just weren't in love.

"I don't think you killed our love, Shelly. We got married and made it through those first tough years when the kids were little. I thought we were on the road to our happy ever after, and I thought you felt the same way. Then a narrow lane branched off. I stayed on the road, but you wandered down the lane and far away. By the time I noticed you were gone, it was too late to get you back."

We talked until after midnight without ever saying the word divorce. To make the parting as painless as possible, we agreed to use the same lawyer to guide us through the process. We both were exhausted when we went to our separate bedrooms.

We used a lawyer both of us knew and liked. I was on the back foot through most of the discussions, not only because of my trysts with Lily, but also because deep down I had to admit that I'd never given Shelly the love she deserved as my wife. I came to her on the rebound that Fall so many years ago, and finally realized this trip that I never let myself fall completely in love with Shelly because I never stopped loving Lily.

There was so little rancor in the negotiations it was apparent that we didn't hate each other, just were no longer in love. The divorce was filed for irreconcilable differences, not adultery (neither hers nor mine). It wound up a simple 50-50 split of current assets, including the equity from selling the house.

My salary was more than three times Shelly's, so I paid half the rent on a small apartment for a year to give her time to find a better paying job. We split the kids' college expenses 30-70 (30 from her), and I'd pay alimony—or to be de regueur, separate maintenance—until she got that better job or remarried.

I found out later that the guy—never did learn his name—showed up every evening I was gone and didn't leave until the following morning. The neighbors didn't approve, two even marched up to the house and told her she was a disgrace to the community. They later reported she flipped them off and told them to go to hell.

I admit that at first I was curious about the guy, but I didn't need his name. They each had let it be known that they were interested. It makes no more sense to take revenge on a guy for accepting what's offered than it does to take revenge on a pet cat for killing a songbird. For the most part, they're just doing what men and cats have always done.

Shelly never apologized for being unfaithful. Neither did I.

NOT LONG AFTER our painful phone conversation, Lisa had come home for the weekend. When she told Shelly she was horribly embarrassed that her mother had "acted like such a public slut," Shelly insisted that it wasn't public. Lisa had angrily replied that several hometown "friends" teased her for having a trashy mother and clueless father.

It took a couple of years to rebuild their mother-daughter bond.

I tried to call Lisa after Shelly told me about their confrontation, but she never answered. After I left several voice mail messages apologizing for hanging up on her, she finally sent a long email that simply justified why she reacted the way she did and asked me to leave her alone. Later, she did respond to my final attempt to reach out..

Unlike Lisa, Tanner didn't say anything to Shelly about what happened. He just stopped speaking to her altogether, wouldn't even respond to texts or emails. Without telling her, he quit college and took two jobs, janitor for a cleaning service and delivering pizzas.

Shelly didn't find out until she got curious enough to open the fifth or sixth letter from Brown addressed to him. Only then did she learn that he had quit and therefore failed all his classes. He was going to have to start paying back his student loan in a few months.

He came home for part of a day to get some of his things, but left without telling Shelly where he was living or what he was doing. He never tried to contact me after he'd hung up on our disastrous phone conversation, just acted like I was dead to him. I was afraid that Shelly's cheating and my temper had cost me both of our children, but he, too, responded to my final contact.

Because Shelly and I had established a détente, I stayed in Lisa's room for six weeks, until the divorce process was well underway and we were just waiting for the final decree. I spent every weekend in York with Lily, which helped the time pass quickly.

I'd thought I'd have trouble finding a good job in York, but it turned out my company had decided to open a pilot plant in Lancaster, just 25 miles from York. When they offered me the job of engineering director, I couldn't accept quickly enough.

On one of my weekend trips, we'd found a house we liked on 20 acres with a pasture and woodlot about half-way between Lancaster and York, so each of us had a trivial commute. The first thing we did was plant a rose garden—half red and half white, of course.

My once-wintry life was turning glorious summer.

OUR ST. JOHN'S DAY wedding in Iris's back yard proved to be a midsummer night's dream. Lisa was radiant, naturally, in a borrowed pale blue frock she'd lusted after ever since a co-worker wore it to her own divorce shower. She carried a bouquet of red and white roses, while Iris (not called Mrs. Q for the afternoon) pulled a hat trick as Matron of Honor, Mother of the Bride, and honorary Mother of the Groom.

Mark, true to form, was irrepressible as the Eternal Bachelor Best Man. In keeping with the 21st-century theme, the Celebrant—probably more accurately called the Official Witness—was a former Carmelite, supposedly something impressive in the Wiccan hierarchy. (Or is "Wiccan hierarchy" an oxymoron? It's so difficult to keep up with 21st propriety.)

Upon the advice of the Official Witness, no one gave Lily away because she belonged "only to her own Spirit of Self." She came down the aisle on Iris's arm to a rousing rendition of Scotland the Brave, then left to the same pipers droning Amazing Grace. A few dozen people attended, seated on folding chairs properly beskirted in white.

No, haggis wasn't served at the reception, just platters of The World's Best Lasagna and garlic bread, washed down with flagons of Valpolicella. And fortune cookies. A good time reportedly was had by all.

With Iris's blessing, Lily and I drifted away after an hour or so. A 45-minute drive brought us to a very nice B&B for a brief honeymoon just outside Intercourse, PA. How could we pass up the chance to tell everyone for the rest of our lives that we had a wonderful 3-day Intercourse honeymoon?

Shelly had come to the wedding. That could have been a downer, but she'd been flanked by Lisa and Tanner. When we'd sent their invitations, I never dreamed either would attend. It was our first face-to-face contact since those awful phone calls. I'd assumed that they didn't want me in their lives and lost track of how they were doing.

Lisa was in the middle of a good internship with IBM, come fall she'd be a senior at Carnegie Mellon. She was pretty sure IBM was going to offer her a job in Cherry Hill, NJ, after she graduated.

Tanner had sort of patched things up with Shelly. He'd been staying with her in Woodbridge and had started summer classes at Middlesex County College.

Things had been awkward at first, but Shelly left before the reception started, relieving much of the strain. The kids, Lily, and I started to get to know each other. It was a renewal for me and the kids, but a budding friendship was born between them and Lily. Over time, it blossomed into respect and fondness, maybe even a little love.

I guess I did learn something on my journey. Oh, I still flinch a bit when I hear a woman or young person say shit or fuck, but it doesn't set me off on a rant or bout of unhappiness because the world's going to hell. I still believe, though, that wedding vows aren't temporary—to be honored unless or until you're tempted—and I still believe that respect is a necessary part of love.

But I also learned that I better not say never or always. If I hadn't learned that, I wouldn't be here beside Lily 25 years later, watching Lisa, Rose, and Tanner eating at a picnic table in our back yard with our five grandchildren.

It used to be Mrs. Q's back yard, but when she died eight years ago she left it to us. I didn't bat an eye when the lawyer reading the will stumbled over Iris's admonition that followed the item bequeathing her house to us: "For God's sake, you two, don't fuck up again."

We haven't.