Chapter 23 - The phone call

Saturday was an excruciatingly long day. I kept myself busy most of the day doing mundane weekend chores like laundry, and cleaning the house, but since I had gotten up at 7AM, it didn't take up that much of my day. By 7PM I was going out of my mind. I had gone to the bathroom a zillion times but I just couldn't calm myself down, so I went for a walk - a long walk to clear my mind. It didn't work. Nothing was going to work today.

When I got back after my walk I staged the area where I was going to be sitting. I brought a glass of water because my mouth felt like the Sahara Desert. The chair was positioned properly, I had my package of cigarettes and the ashtray. I lit a candle - not sure why, but it just felt right. Should I turn the lights on or off? Couldn't decide. My mind was going 1000 miles an hour. I also had a list of questions just in case there was a lull in the conversation. Remember this was a man who had not asked me one single question beyond "How was your weekend?" If he wasn't going to ask questions this was going to be a short conversation.

Okay, it's five minutes to nine and I'm sitting by the phone now. I CAN NOT STAND IT!!! I jump up, run to the kitchen and pour myself a Scotch...a good tall Scotch and down it. Yes, that will do the trick. It feels warm and smooth going down and it hits the spot. I am not a drinker, but there are certain times in life when a drink is necessary and this was definitely one of them.

He doesn't call at nine, it was a few minutes after - just like him to make me wait. The phone rings and he says, "So are you sitting out by the pool?" "No, it is cold and raining, so I am inside." There, the first words are over with and it seems okay.

Rett is not hard to talk to, he is a chatter box and there were no lulls in the conversation. We talked for three and a half hours, with not one lull. At the beginning of the conversation he seemed distant, not cold, but distant. He talked, and talked and talked. He shared stories about his work, his life, his home, and there was a lot of chest-pounding and pontificating. Then he seemed to calm down and I said to him "Oh, there you are...I was wondering if you were going to show up or not." He knew what I meant.

Finally we started talking about us and what had happened. He said to me, kind of out of the blue "You have good friends." I said I knew I had good friends, but I didn't understand how he knew. "One of your friends called me." he said "Called you when?" I asked, rapidly going through my list of friends to think who would have called him. "Right after." he replied. He was talking about right after the abortion, one of my 2 friends who knew about it had called him and reamed him out. He didn't remember who, but he remembered what they had said. It must have impacted him, since his memory was sketchy. "Yes, I am blessed with good friends." I told him.

The details of the conversation are blurring in my memory now. All I know is that it was so comfortable. He was sensitive, caring and patient. He didn't rush through anything. We were comfortable with one another. At one point we were talking about the wedding and I asked him something important. I asked him "Rett, when all those woman lined up in front of you to wait for the tossing of the bouquet, why did you chose me. I was looking at the picture today and there were about 15 women lined up...all good looking women, and there I was, the only one with her arms crossed. Why me?" He replied very quickly with "Why not you? I think you have some self-esteem issues." I replied just as quickly "No...those came after you!" The hurt is there. I can't make it go away. It sneaks out even when I'm not paying attention.

Rett's next comment may have changed the whole course of our journey. He said "Since you were standing there with your arms crossed, that might explain why you're not married." and he chuckled.

I said "What makes you think I'm not married?" He replied after a noticeable hesitation "You're married?!" "Yes I am." That's when the rapid fire questions started. "How long have you been married?" I answered "Twenty-one years." Then I added that I had met my husband four months after 'us'. "That can't be good." he replied.

I explained to him about my marriage in as few details as possible. I wasn't comfortable talking to him about it, because, still in my mind, this had nothing to do with my marriage. All I said was "It's complicated." And then I added that this is what happens when you don't ask any questions. He laughed.

There were lots more questions that followed, once he had started he couldn't stop. He asked me one question in particular that made me stop talking. He said "Do you have children?" I stopped dead, and sucked in air, because he should have known the answer to this already...if he had read my e-mail. He noticed my hesitation and he said quietly "I have a confession to make...I am still a coward...I didn't read your e-mail." He hadn't read my e-mail dealing with the part he didn't know!!! I had poured out my soul and it had been a heart wrenching experience and HE HADN'T READ IT!!! And he had gotten caught in a lie - he wasn't there and he wasn't listening. But what did I reply? "That's okay, I had a feeling you hadn't read it."

We went on talking after that, but it was stuck in my mind. What else hasn't he read? Why hadn't he read it? In my mind I rationalized it by saying that just because I was ready to share those horrid details, didn't necessarily mean he was ready to hear it. He should have been ready, but he had always been a coward...what would make me think he had changed.

At the end of the conversation he said he would call again soon, in a week. He didn't want to say good bye, and we took about half an hour to actually hang up, and he waited for me to hang up first.

Even with the discovery that he hadn't read all the information I had sent him, it still felt so good. I can't explain how it feels to get over hate, but it is euphoric. And I went right from hate to a nice, warm and comforting place.