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Solitaire
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Solitaire |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California 
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The window was open and crickets hummed in the warm summer night, when Jim told Stephanie he was leaving her. He let the words out fast, taking deep breaths at each pause, like he had practiced many times. "I knew there was someone different inside me," he said "I tried to ignore my feelings, but I can’t any longer. I have been having an affair for the last six months with a man. I am in love with him. I still love you, but I can’t live without this man." Jim then sat quietly and waited for Stephanie’s response. His eyes pleaded with her to understand. She had looked at him in shocked silence. The steady love song of the crickets seemed so normal. Their life, their child, their home, the years spent in intimate closeness--who was this man? Her heart went into a dark spiral where she was aware only of the color red. Rage blotted the silken slither of their loving nights together and brought out of her throat the ancient keening of a mourning woman. Stephanie heard but could not believe the sound was coming from her. Part of her felt detached from the heart wrenching it represented. Her hands knotted into fists as she tried to take in what he had told her. She squeezed her eyes shut tight against the tears that pushed behind her lids. "I don’t understand," she yelled at him; "How could you ruin everything we have worked for all these years—--you have been my best friend. How can you do this to us, to our family, to our daughter? You’re going to screw up her life—oh God! Please just tell me this is a bad dream and I’ll wake up." With great sobs she beat on his chest with her fists, and the look on his face held such pity and remorse that she slapped it hard, then harder until he closed his eyes and tears emptied onto her open palm. That night, spent and exhausted, she had lain next to him, stiff as an exclamation point. This is my beloved, she thought, the man who fed me ice chips and counted the seconds between each contraction, the man who cried with me when we looked into Lisa’s wizened, red, and screeching new born face. The man who brought me flowers, who listened to me and understood, the man who promised to love me forever. *** Now, two months later, the light from a full October moon shines through Stephanie’s curtains and patterns the wall to lace and the branches of the elm tree dance like graceful fingers across her bed. From the other bedroom she hears a faint click, click sound and a steady hum. She knows the sound comes from Lisa playing solitaire on her computer. For many nights she has been aware of the lonely heartbeat it represents. She hasn’t slept well in weeks. Not since that horrible night when her world came crashing down around her, and from the sound of it Lisa hasn’t either. Resigned, she tip toes down the hall. A faint light shows through the crack in Lisa’s door. She pushes it open all the way. Lisa sits at her desk. Her hunched back a silent statement of how she feels. The room is dark, except for the light coming from the computer. Stephanie can see Lisa’s hand on the mouse, the cause of that infernal clicking sound. She almost says her daughter’s name, then changes her mind. She has been through the scene before. Lisa will shut her out as thoroughly as a door slam and as efficiently as a slap. Lisa, with her fifteen year old pimply face, four earrings in each ear and hair that changes color with the whim of a day, suddenly makes Stephanie feel as helpless and as tired as a limp rag hanging on the line on a windless day. *** Dawn finally lights the sky as Stephanie sits at the kitchen table sipping her third cup of coffee. She sits quietly but her mind is racing. The Jim she knew is gone. Telling Lisa about their separation and his new life style had been one of the hardest things she had ever done. Jim had left it up to her, saying "I can’t. It’s up to you to hang me, I deserve it." Well, she wasn’t about to hang him. That would be the worst thing she could do, but trying to understand the situation was hard for her, explaining to Lisa was worse. She and Jim had always been open with her about sex and they had even talked about the issue of homosexuality. Stephanie prided herself on being accepting of differences. However, nothing could have prepared her for the double standard she never knew she harbored. It would have been more bearable for Jim to have left her for another woman--socially acceptable was what she meant. She looks down and tries to focus on the paper that is spread around her on the kitchen table. All the news seems so mundane. She feels detached from wars and murders and the Dow Jones average. Three days worth of dirty dishes are piled in the sink. A fly keeps her company, lazily circling a crust of bread. She misses the smell of peanut butter on toast and the crunch of granola. She misses Lisa’s grin that crinkled her eyes and the enthusiastic gusto with which she cleaned the kitchen. She thinks about the conversation she had with her yesterday after her visit with her dad. "Did you have a good time?" Stephanie had questioned. "It was ok." Was Lisa’s non-comment. Jim is living with his lover. How hard that must be even for her liberal, free thinking daughter. "What did you do?" "Not much." And so it went with their conversations lately. Lisa was closing everyone out, even her friends. She had overheard her one-sided conversations on the phone recently. "Oh, hi, nothing, yea, yea, I can’t, ok, bye," was all that came from the lips of a girl who used to wear the phone like an earring. Stephanie walks to Lisa’s door. She can hear the click, click of the computer, still. Lisa has become obsessive about playing solitaire every chance she gets. Her Dad bought her the computer on one of her first visits. As she listens, Stephanie thinks it sounds like the heartbeat of a robot. What kind of friend is that? she wonders. This has gone on too long. Enough is enough. "Lisa, come here, please," she calls through the closed door. Lisa emerges looking pale and wall-eyed. Behind her the turmoil of her life is evident. Clothes are strewn everywhere and the musty smell of unwashed socks and bedding waft out and disturb the air around Stephanie as she takes a deep breath. "I know things haven’t been easy for you and I’m sorry," she begins. "But, you can’t hibernate in your room for the rest of your life. I need some help around here. This has been hard for me, too. I need you to talk to me; we need to help each other out. The computer is not your friend. Your friends don’t call you anymore because you’re so anti-social. Talk to me, for God’s sake. I miss you. I miss spending time with you. I miss….talk to me, damn it." "Ok, I’ll talk. What do you know about friends; where are all your friends?" Lisa’s voice breaks as she continues. "What am I supposed to say to them anyway? My dad’s gay. He’s living with a man. A man hugs him and cooks his dinner and loves him, not you; not us. I’m having trouble with this, ok? Am I supposed to have a picture of my dad and his boyfriend on the dresser in my room? I’m so confused. You just let him leave. You didn’t even try to make him stay. If he loved me, he wouldn’t have done this to me; to us. I hate him," she finishes and slams into her room again. I guess I do understand, Stephanie thinks. I’m having trouble myself, being thrown over for a man. How was I supposed to compete with this kind of love? She also understands about the friends. Her own did not known what to say or how to help; most had stopped calling. Her social life is as nonexistent as Lisa’s Stephanie opens Lisa’s door when there is no answer to her tentative knock. Lisa sits at the computer the click, click of the mouse punctuating her sniffing nose. "Lisa, we can help each other," Stephanie says. "Believe it or not, I understand how you feel. Every morning I wake up and wonder how I will get through the day. I miss him. I loved him so much and now I hate him too, for what he’s done." Stephanie gets down on her knees and turns Lisa around to face her. "Mom," Lisa lets the mouse drop. It lays hanging from the cord, lifeless. "Mom, I don’t know what to do," Lisa says as she looks straight into Stephanie’s eyes then wraps her arms around her neck. "I’m so scared about something. I think about it all the time, but I’ve been afraid to ask you. I thought because neither you or dad said anything that it must be true." "What is it?" Stephanie can read the fear in Lisa’s face—why hasn’t she seen it before? "Mom, does Dad have Aids?" Lisa lets it out fast and quiet as if the word itself would kill. "I’m afraid dad’s going to die and you’re going to die and I’ll be all alone." Stephanie feels the weight of Lisa’s question as it hits her and tares at the heart of the mother in her. How could she have neglected to see what Lisa sees, to feel what Lisa feels? "Your father doesn’t have Aids. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I feel like such a fool. I guess I just didn’t realize you’d think about it." The relief is clear on Lisa’s face as Stephanie gazes at her. I guess we both have some growing up to do, she thinks as she looks at her daughter and sees eyes, wide and brown like her fathers, and a nose, slightly pointy, like her own. Then she sees the words printed bold and black on Lisa’s white tee shirt The words are, "NO FEAR". |
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| © Copyright 1999 Martie Odell Ingebretsen - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Christopher
Moderator
Member Rara Avis
since 1999-08-02
Posts 8296Purgatorial Incarceration |
I'm going to say welcome again, because this story deserves another one! Martie, this is an excellently written, poignant story. I envy you your talent to write about real life. Often the deepest darkness is not found in fiction, but in truth. You captured the darkness well here, but also brought a ray of light to sum it up. Magnificent, martie, I do hope to read more! |
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DreamEvil Member Elite
since 1999-06-22
Posts 2396 |
Excellent story, my dear. Thank you for bringing it to us here. ------------------ Now and forever my heart hears ~one voice~. DreamEvil© |
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Nicole Senior Member
since 1999-06-23
Posts 1835Florida |
I have never read a piece like this before, and find it extremely well done. I just will need to be satisfied with echoing Christopher and DE. |
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Dragoness Senior Member
since 1999-08-07
Posts 513 |
Beautifully written. Fantastic story. Hope to see more from you. ------------------ Set you heart free and your mind will follow. |
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Decaflame Senior Member
since 2001-05-11
Posts 1635 |
Ah yes, as I solitarily go into the back rooms to dust and clean, what do I find? Good stuff.... |
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Dark Angel Member Patricius
since 1999-08-04
Posts 10095 |
Martie, this is WOW, excellent writing. Grabbed my attention and I couldnt let go. I couldnt read fast enough. A great true to life story. Well Done. Maree  |
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snowpants Member Elite
since 2000-09-16
Posts 2061KS |
Extremely well-told, Martie...as everyone else, I hung on every line...great write! sp  tried to write a letter |
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paladin
since 2001-08-05
Posts 930Pensacola,Fl. |
Your portral of life is vivid and warmly confortable. I could feel the emotions. Great write. I wish I could put as much in my writing.I normaly do not like "slice of life" stories but this one drew me in and I became concerned with the characters. paladin |
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