It's Not Just a Business Transaction (eBook)

Chapter 2

Four years after my D-Day, I am still amazed that I did not immediately recall the open tabs and uneasiness in the pit of my stomach that came with seeing the word “arrangement.” I moved through my day, returned home that evening, and went about my routine. Friday was a normal day. On Saturday, I woke up and took my foster dog, Gabbie, to an adoption event. We stayed for about three hours. I laughed at her antics with a smaller dog and took pictures of her because she had made so much progress over the previous eighteen months and looked beautiful. Arriving back at home, exhausted, I decided to take a nap.

Around 3:00 p.m., I woke up to a phone call from an old friend. Sitting on my patio in the Texas summer heat, we reminisced about high school. The night went on as usual.

Sunday morning was June 26. Looking back, I feel like I was almost destined to continue on without a thought of the open tab from Thursday morning because it did not cross my mind until three that afternoon.

We lived far from much of civilization and lacked opportunities for human interaction. A trip to the grocery store was only a weekly event. That morning, I found John in that same position at the dining room table, drinking coffee and surfing the web. Again he saw me coming, and I heard the familiar “click” of the mouse to close the current tab on his computer. He looked up to give me his attention.

It is a wonder that I did not even “click” at that moment.

I had recently become addicted to coffee, so I prepared my usual cup and sat down to relax and come out of my sleepy state. John spoke about getting ready to begin our Sunday. This particular morning, we decided to have brunch somewhere new. Just down the street from our usual grocery store was a quaint cafe that was often packed with hungry people. It’s strange to recall innocuous details, but I had a waffle that morning. He had his typical sunny-side up eggs and bacon, which he annoyingly cut up with a fork and knife. The scraping sound on the plate always grated on my nerves, but I laughed it off every time. After breakfast, we decided to walk the block to look around. I was never able to do much of that because of my busy work schedule, which confined me for many hours during the week. It was so nice to just stroll down the street with the sun at our backs and make small talk about everything around us.

After a while we arrived at the grocery store. It was busy, but I expected that on an early Sunday afternoon. Someone from our area was in the parking lot with her four blonde daughters. I recognized them immediately as they made their way to us for obligatory conversation. John sort of groaned because in general, interacting with people was not his thing. He was an introvert by nature.

A few minutes later, we began shopping. Usually the entire process took about two hours. There is so much to look at! I am also a pretty decent home chef, so I spent much time dawdling around to find new ideas and talk to the in-store chefs who create special dishes for people to taste. John would wait for me in the aisles. I never thought about it much because he would just sit on his phone while I happily milled about.

After some time, we checked out and made our way to the parking lot. We unloaded our bags into the car. The drive home was down a stretch of country road, about fifteen miles with gorgeous views of the Texas Hill Country. When I was not driving this route to get to the city, I enjoyed being the passenger. The Hill Country is a marvel, and every time we made our way down this road, there was something new to see.

About halfway home, as I was gazing at the tops of live oak trees and looking at beautiful homes with their vast land and small personal lakes, all with the potential to be featured in Southern Living magazine, I recalled a very heavy feeling. Something just came over me and the uneasiness seemed familiar. I suddenly remembered the morning of June 23 and that open tab on John’s computer. I could not say what set off my brain to even recall that memory. However at this point, even the words across the tab had escaped my mind. I knew what I saw had made me very uncomfortable. I tried to think of the word because how could I ask him about it if I couldn’t recall it? This man surfed the internet almost constantly. I knew he would be confused at my inquiry. What I did remember was that it started with the letter A.

I turned to look at John as he drove my car. He was very handsome to me. He looked his age at sixty-three, and this was a good thing. His hair was gray, but it had been our entire relationship. He had a matching salt-and-pepper goatee, which looked great on him. Deep wrinkles were plentiful around his eyes, and his skin was weathered. He looked like a man who worked outdoors often, even though his specialty was computer technology. I used to say he resembled the Marlboro Man without the cowboy hat. Sometimes, a cigarette hung from his mouth, but he had kicked that habit more than once in our fourteen years of marriage. He was about six feet tall with a slight pooch to his belly. He had no butt, and his legs were really thin. I used to ask him, “How do you walk on those skinny stems?”

He had an easy way about him, very casual. He was most comfortable in Levi’s, a T-shirt, and old sneakers. After all, he was retired and could live as relaxed as he wanted. I knew that likely what I saw in him, other women did not. That was okay though. I was in love with him. I accepted every part of him. It was not easy to hold a conversation with John. He was shy, quiet, and awkward with people. He mostly listened and watched me as I talked to friends, neighbors, and acquaintances. Yes, there were times when he would interject his opinion, but it was typically short sentences and with little substance. Just enough contribution to the conversation to seem interested and not rude. I think John was happy just watching me carry on. I could talk enough for the two of us.

Throughout our marriage, I found it strange that he was so reserved. In reality, he was very intelligent. I used to tell him he was the smartest man I knew. When my son, Adam, was younger, he marveled at his stepfather’s knowledge. If Adam had a question that needed to be answered, he went right up to John and asked. John rarely said, “I don’t know.” It was amazing. We could ask him about the most random subjects, and he knew the answer and gave long, accurate explanations. I would often tell John he missed his calling in life. He should have been a doctor. He was a medic in the navy and his crew called him “Doc,” which was a compliment for the way he cared for them. While the potential for John to go further and become a doctor was there, the motivation to do the work was not. He also claimed to lack the confidence to make it through the schooling required. He told me he was a lazy student right out of the gate, and his grades reflected that.

His upbringing was not the greatest. The oldest of three boys, he came from a military family with a father who disciplined harshly and took no issue with calling his sons names. John’s nickname was “Stupid, Stupid, Stupid.” He was slapped at the dinner table for making comments his father found inappropriate. He was also beaten by his father on a number of occasions up until he was a young adult. After one particularly bad fight that turned physical, John decided the best way out was to join the navy.

On the other side of his father, was his truly incredible mother. She was a tiny woman but had strength that would make any big, strong man envious. John adored her. So did I. She embraced me as her daughter-in-law, and I felt very close to her. She also was happy to adopt Adam as her own grandson. All of her grandchildren were living in different states, including John’s three children from his first marriage, whom he never was able to see because his ex-wife moved them to another state immediately following their divorce. My child was the perfect fill in and my mother-in-law embraced him as her only local grandchild. I believe she knew John better than anyone. She spoke so kindly of him, and I knew she admired him. All three of her boys were special to her, but there was something about her oldest. The two of them shared a deep bond.

I never fully understood the family dynamic of that five. One of my brothers-in-law committed suicide shortly after John and I married. He shot himself through the heart early one morning, in front of his wife. She had been cheating on him and it broke him. My other brother-in-law was the youngest. He was the jokester in the family and oh my…he was hilarious. He never married or had kids of his own. He just drifted around, taking care of sick relatives. John was quiet about his family. He also had many issues relating back to his dad, and he told me a little about the way his mother had been treated. There was one time when his dad was leaving to go to a temporary duty assignment (TDY as they term it in the military) in Thailand, and his mother found a large box of condoms in his dad’s suitcase. The “lie” was that he was taking them to pass out to his subordinates in case they met up with local girls for sex. Must keep them out of trouble while abroad. Right…Thankfully, my mother-in-law was not that dense; she knew exactly why he packed the condoms.

Something else I recall was that his father had received orders to go to Hawaii for a short time. My mother-in-law shared with John that she was thrilled to tag along with him to paradise until he told her that she was not invited. Imagine hearing your...