By Wade Erickson Date: 16 November 1998
No phone call to say he’s going to be late tonight. Dinner cold and the candles nearly burned out. Another evening spent alone. When he does eventually arrive, he’ll be stinking drunk and angry. His dress shirts reek of perfume and are smudged with lipstick. Smudged as if he was attempting to wash it out. The shirts bundled in a ball, concealed in the legs of his sweat pants at the bottom of the hamper. Whispering on the phone, (as if I can’t hear him) to someone in secret. In denial of another woman, but you just can’t picture your husband doing such a thing. There are receipts left in his car of purchases at the corner flower shop. His briefcase filled with nothing but paper and pen. Cigarette smoke in his hair, and he doesn’t smoke. I tell myself to wake up and speak, that he’s having an affair. But the fear is holding you back.
The door slams and he scurries by heading for a hot shower to sober up. You don’t say anything as not wanting to upset him. And tonight when you lay down to rest, you’ll sleep like strangers. He doesn’t kiss you goodnight the way he used to. He used to throw a record on the player and dance in his underwear. Laughter was something you both enjoyed. There hasn’t been laughter in years. Your always asking yourself what happened to us?
After a fight he left to go out with his buddies. This was the final straw. Setting your wedding band on the nightstand, dressed in you finest apparel, you went out to the clubs to find yourself some love. You brought a man home. He catered to your every need, bought you plenty of drinks along with dinner. Complimented you in every conversation, gazed into your eyes and making passes. His gentlemen kindness and good looks was tempting. And after brushing off his advances, and saying goodnight. You cried your heart out.
Wiping off the smeared mascara and another coat of lipstick, ventured out to track down your husband and his whereabouts. Checking all the small pubs and bars, you found him alone and drunk. Walking in chin held high and firm, took a seat next to him at the bar. In utter amazement and shock he yelled. You tried to say you wanted him to come home. Without even looking at you, he shunned and pushed you away, telling you to wait at home for him. And when you left in tears, he was hiding his own.
It was pouring rain out when he snuck in the back door to the house. Only a dim light from the dark hallway leading to your bedroom was on. Dripping wet he found you curled up on the bed, stains on the pillow said you had cried yourself to sleep. Scattered on the bed were your old pictures and letters to her. A photo album filled spread open, with dried roses of when you used to buy them for her.
At this very moment I realized the love and dedication she has given to me. Mistreating and neglecting the sole woman who loves only you. Gently sitting on the edge of the bed, I cradled her hand in mine. Telling her you faked the lipstick on your shirts, bought a bottle of cheap perfume and sprinkled you clothes with it, whispering on the phone to no one. All this to hide the embarrassment and shame of gambling away your life savings. This whole time trying to get her to leave or divorce you. All those nights of coming home late were spent addicted to casinos and cards. And in the process drinking to a stupor and coming home broke. Many times leaving work early just to beat you to the post office to steal all the late notices, collection letters and bills that were stacking up unpaid.
Touching her face tenderly, tears still trapped on her cheek, gently kissed her on the cheek. So stunning and beautiful she looked tonight, in an old dress bought for her years ago. I was rude and a jerk, couldn’t blame her now if she wanted to leave me. I would of left long ago. It is hard to say your sorry to someone you’ve hurt so bad. You can’t even remember the last time you told her you loved her, or kissed her lips goodnight.
You picked her up from the bed into your arms, shivering from your wet clothes. The front of her dress soaked with tears. Carrying her outside into the pouring rain she awakens. Smiling only to see that you are crying and holding her. Every word that was said in the bedroom she heard. Placing her hands to my face, her head to my shoulder she closed her eyes.
And now here we stand, holding on in the rain...