Shadowed Soul Page 11

  “Dad calls it his cholesterol cocktail,” noted Beth.

  “Bacon and eggs are contraband,” explained Dorothy. “Doctor said Pete’s cholesterol level is high. Would you like some?”

  “Sounds wonderful,” I said turning to look at Beth. “Honey, you having some, too?” Beth’s expression was serene, she was practically glowing. Our happiness was truly shared. As I watched her talking to her mother I wondered what on earth had terrified me so. There was nothing scary here at all. My wife loved me and Peter and Dorothy’s strong fondness for me was obvious.

  “Where’s daddy?” asked Beth.

  “He’s gone for his Christmas morning walk. He loves showing his grandson off to his buddies.” Just then the front door opened, Bailey padded into the kitchen first. He came straight to me and sat down, looking at me with his warm, expectant eyes, I stroked his head. His sleek fur felt cold and fresh.

  “Ho-ho-ho!” hollered Pete as he came into the kitchen holding my song in his powerful arms. “Wow, someone needs a diaper change!” He handed Jonathan to Dorothy.

  “Old habits die hard,” noted Dorothy good naturedly as she relieved her husband of diaper duty. “I’ll get it this time.”

  “Cold outside!” exclaimed Pete. “Is my nose red? Hey, Merry Christmas you two. Slept well?” Beth and I nodded.

  “Let me take him,” said Beth, her expression had changed from happy to Lady Madonna at the sight of our son, wrapped up in his little coat, his face ruddy with fresh air. As she reached for Jonathan her eyes softened further. Observing the transfer of the baby from grandmother to mother I felt a sharp pang of resentment in my heart. As Dorothy served breakfast I tried to shake off my encroaching jealousy.

  Pete sat down opposite me and for the first time I got a clear look at his sweater.

  “Nice reindeer,” I remarked deadpan.

  “Yeah, it’s corny, Tom,” admitted Pete.

  “No, it’s, uh,” I grasped for a polite comeback.

  “Hideous?” said Dorothy playfully.

  “A little bit,” I said and Pete guffawed loudly.

  “It’s my Christmas sweater.” Pete chuckled.

  “And has been since Beth was born,” chided Dorothy. “Thomas, you have no idea how many times I’ve hidden it in the trash. I’ve waited until June to ditch it but Peter always finds it and scurries it back in the closet.”

  “What’s wrong with it? I love it! You gave it to me!”

  “It’s tattered, you old goat,” said Dorothy compassionately and shook her head. “Sometimes I wonder why I married you.”

  “You married me for my money.” Pete winked.

  “Oh, yeah, I was desperate to get my hands on that $318 in your checking account.” Dorothy laughed, playfully pummeling his shoulder.

  Their comical bickering continued. I marveled at how loving and easy these two were together. As a young boy, my parents had bickered but always nastily. Sadly, I had absolutely no recollection of them laughing together. Peter and Dorothy were so in tune with each other that I doubted they ever had a major dislike for each other. They were a healthy couple and I could only hope that maybe Beth and I would reach that level. We would if the Shadowed Soul remained at bay so our love could continue to flourish. Having an example in Dorothy and Pete further inspired me to find a way to defeat my demon.

  “Here, Thomas, your son wants to wish you Happy Christmas,” Beth interrupted my thoughts as she passed Jonathan to me. Reluctantly, I gathered the tiny figure in my arms. No sooner was he nested safely in my arms, Beth moved to the sink to help her mom wash dishes.

  “He’s a handsome young man, isn’t he?” said Pete proudly.

  At close range, when I looked at the baby all I saw was a scrunched up face with beady, glittering eyes that drilled into me as if his soul knew exactly how I had screwed up.

  “Takes after his mother!” I concurred with Pete.

  “Tom,” Pete paused as if weighing what to say next. “Look, if I’m out of line, just say, okay? Beth was telling me how rough you had things growing up and she said you didn’t really care for Christmas.”

  “Could’ve been better,” I admitted. Pete nodded.

  “That must have been hard on you when you were a kid. Look, I just wanted to, uh, well, I just needed to say that you have a family here.”

  “Work has been really busy,” I changed the subject defensively and Pete just held his hands up and smiled.

  “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Tom.” He looked at me. “Everyone’s got their problems and some of us have our demons and my daughter loves you with all her heart so I’m not judging you, okay? What I’m trying to say is that, we’re here for you. You’ve heard that from a lot of different people in your life and they might not have meant it, but Dorothy and I do mean it. We don’t want to be your mom and dad or anything like that, we just want to make sure that you’re okay, because our little girl adores you and when you’re unhappy then she is too.”

  There was a long pause and I could only nod helplessly.

  “I try Peter, God I do really try,” I said softly.

  “Shit, I know you do son,” he said quietly and finished his coffee. “Do you mind if I tell you a story? A short one. Might help?” I nodded agreement.

  “Go for it,” I murmured.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “I don’t know if Beth told you anything about her grandpa, my dad?” asked Pete.

  “Not yet,” said Beth from the sink, glancing meaningfully at Dorothy who dried dishes as Beth washed and rinsed. “It’s such a romantic story! I love it!”

  “My father,” continued Pete. “…was a good man, built like a fort and had these huge hands that could crush a walnut.” The mention of his father’s size and strength reminded me of my absentee father. “He was a big Kansas farm boy. He lived in the city for years but in his heart he always belonged to the countryside. He met my mom when she went out on vacation with her folks and they fell in love right away.”

  “It’s just so sweet,” interjected Dorothy. “Just imagine, City Mouse and Country Mouse.”

  “My dad was a bit of a bumpkin, so my mom’s dad was dead against them spending time together,” said Pete.

  “I think he was a bit of a snob,” said Beth.

  “Well, honey,” said Dorothy. “Of course, he wanted his little girl to marry a great man. What parent doesn’t want that?”

  “This was back in the late fifties, you know?” explained Pete. “City folks had particular ideas about country folks, but my mom was a determined lady.”

  “Pete and I think that Beth takes after his mother,” said Dorothy.

  “My mom loved my dad,” continued Pete. “Nothing kept them apart. They spent as much time of that vacation as they could sneaking off. Eventually, my grandmother caught them together.”

  “Your grandmother was a wise old bat, Pete,” said Dorothy lovingly.

  “My grandmother recognized that whatever was happening between my mom and my dad was good. So she talked my grandpa into letting them see each other.”

  “In public, no less,” interjected Beth, tittering. “So cute! So old fashioned!”

  “The vacation ended and my mom and dad exchanged addresses,” said Pete pausing for a sip of coffee.

  “She thought it was over,” said Dorothy. Pete looked at Dorothy quizzically. “She told me that one time, she said she figured he’d forget about her, so she never even wrote him because he was so happy on the farm.”

  “And she loved the city,” said Pete.

  “It seemed they were never going to see each other again,” said Beth dramatically. “But just when the lovers appeared doomed to a life without each other… Dad, continue!”

  “So, three months later, just before Halloween there was a knock at my grandparents’ door. When my mom’s dad opened the door, there stood my dad with a bunch of flowers in his big hands.”

  “Without telling her, he had moved to the city and got a job in a grocery store
,” said Dorothy. “And very honorably, he waited…”

  “Wait, let me tell it! He waited until he had some savings before he visited,” noted Beth. “So he could court her properly.”

  “Smart guy,” I said, thinking how utterly doomed I was, having lost my job.

  “Grandpa was not pleased, but he sure as shit was impressed,” said Pete. “He permitted my father to court my mother and to attend socials in their circle. Within a year they were engaged. My dad never complained. He had a simple outlook about life. You did what seemed right and if no one got hurt then you’d done the right thing.”

  “No wonder you were such a great catch,” said Dorothy, kissing Pete on the cheek.

  “They got married eighteen months later,” said Pete. “A year after that, I was born. It was a happy childhood until I was seven and that’s when my dad was drafted to Vietnam.”

  “Like my father,” I blurted. “Not Vietnam. Later. Desert Storm. Sorry. I, uh, didn’t mean to interrupt.” Pete seemed to understand me and continued.

  “I was too young to know how bad things were over there, all I knew was that my dad was a fighting soldier. When he came home I was ten,” said Pete reflectively. “I got an idea of how much a human being can change. He was different. He’d been wounded in a mortar attack, so he was shell shocked. He was a big strong guy, but whatever he had seen in battle stayed with him in the form of PTSD.”

  “Post Traumatic Stress Disorder,” clarified Beth.

  “He tried his best to be my dad,” said Pete with a hint of regret. “Mostly he managed but there were moments his mask slipped and I saw that beneath his big robust form he was like a ghost, going through the motions. I was getting older but I still resented that he wasn’t there for me as much as I wanted. I was a kid. I was selfish.”

  “Oh, honey, don’t beat yourself up. All children are selfish,” cooed Dorothy. “It’s how they survive.”

  “Wish I’d been less of a pain in my dad’s ass,” said Pete. “Back then all I knew was that he wouldn’t play catch with me or help me with these little war plane models I used to make.”

  “Probably they reminded him of the war, dad,” said Beth. Pete thought about this and nodded sadly.

  “It’s snowing,” murmured Pete, glancing out the window, then reigned himself back into the present, to our Christmas together. “And my coffee mug’s empty, woman!” Dorothy laughed, delighted by his pretend machismo, and refreshed his coffee. “I did want to say, though, my father was a prisoner of his own depression. I didn’t know until after he had died but he lost two of his buddies in Vietnam. Some kind of suicide attack or something and that was what messed him up.”

  “Wars are so senseless,” said Beth, finishing off the last of the kitchen cleanup.

  “These guys had been like brothers to my dad,” said Pete. “They both died when they should have been safe and I reckon it was the unfairness of what happened that fucked him up. By the time I met Dorothy he was happy and solid again. He loved Dorothy.”

  “He was like a father to me,” added Dorothy. “I remember him telling me that without family the world meant nothing.” Pete glanced at Dorothy, and she seemed to read his mind and gave him his space. He clearly wanted to be the one to tell this to me himself.

  “My father always believed you have to do what you can to make sure the world keeps turning, it’s not a perfect place but it’s what we have and we all do what we can. So, when he met Dorothy he greeted her into the family like a daughter. Now, I want to do the same for you son. You might never love me like a dad, guys are different, but I will always be here for you and I hope that you know that?”

  “I think I do, Peter, thank you,” I choked. I was genuinely touched by the display of affection from a man I respected deeply. “May I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.” Pete smiled.

  “Did your dad stay better?” I asked, thinking of my own condition.

  “He managed,” said Pete slowly. “Some days he managed really well and others he struggled. I guess he found ways to live with it. On the whole you couldn’t ever detect what was preying on his mind. But there were times that I would hear him crying at night.” I nodded a little and Peter saw something in my expression. “Listen Tom, I don’t judge you. You have your own demons stalking you but I also know that you’re a good guy at heart and so does Beth. She’ll support you. All you have to do is let her know how you’re feeling and what’s happening and she’ll understand. It might not be easy for her but she will. You just have to give her your trust and your time and she’ll be there in every way that she can. Oh hell, listen to me. I hope you don’t think that I’m interfering, son?”

  “No, Pete, I don’t,” I reassured him. I was incredibly touched that he had sat down and told me about his dad and had taken the time to let me know that I was part of his family.

  “So, do you want to talk about anything, Tom?” Pete looked at me levelly.

  “Not right this red hot minute,” I admitted, wondering if he somehow knew I had been fired.

  “That’s okay, son, you do what makes you feel comfortable,” assured Pete. “I’m a good listener.”

  “If that’s the case then why do you keep forgetting to take out the garbage?” asked Dorothy and Beth both as they came back to the kitchen. With Jonathan asleep in my lap after the cold, I hadn’t even noticed that they had left as I had been so wrapped up in Pete’s story.

  “Well, that’s because I don’t want to take the garbage out,” snickered Pete playfully. “I hear you, I just don’t listen.”

  I understood that these three people had decided to let me know how they felt and they had used the man of the house to deliver the message. I excused myself to the bathroom to hide my welling tears. Noting my expression, Dorothy took the baby. When I returned to the kitchen Beth was dancing around with leash and coat. Expectant, Bailey’s big tail thumped the floor.

  “Suit up, big guy, you’re taking me and Bailey for a walk!”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Crisp and clear, the freezing air flash froze the residual lump in my throat as Beth, Bailey and I strolled to the park. With each breath I felt lighter. Passersby greeted us with seasonal warmth. The whole city seemed to be a happier place than perhaps it would be tomorrow and I began to fully see the reality of Christmas. I had once believed that it was a false lull in the general misery of life. But on this morning I regarded it as a chance to regroup and take a rest from all that the world had to throw at you. Maybe it was artificial but who was I to find fault with a little island of sanity in my existence. Here I was with my beloved wife and our peerless dog, safe and happy together. Maybe Christmas was simply a time for hope to shine through, and a chance to grab it. If that is what it was then why hate it? The last few months of my life had been a mire of gloom but my hand was in the hand of my wife and we were walking as one. A couple, we existed to be together and that was nothing to be miserable about. We were together and all was well with the world.

  As we walked in comfortable silence my mind brought forth a poem that I had written for Beth the day she made me promise to tell her what was going on in my head. Beth had not heard it, and maybe she never would because I was reticent about sharing my poetry, another thing that had been trounced by my mother’s lack of interest. I silently recited the poem in my head as we walked.

  Today I embark on a journey

  To a land far away

  In search of my love

  Who was here and now is gone

  My mistakes can never go away

  But my love will always stay

  I hope and pray that someday

  We’ll be together holding hands

  Kissing under a tree

  With children running across a field

  As I will have learned to be the father

  And husband I know

  I can be

  Honest, trustworthy and kind

  I will work very hard to correct my mind

  So we can b
e a family living as one

  As we promised in church

  And I stand firm, regardless

  What has happened and it was plenty

  I always love you inside

  To be without you is hard

  But I will fight to be the person I want to be

  Honest trustworthy and a provider

  For our family.

  I just hope and pray it’s not too late

  I will take it day by day and be the person I am

  And not say I love you but prove it with my actions

  Actions speak louder than words

  All I can ask is a chance to redeem and you will be

  Pleasantly surprised I will say

  As I love you today, yesterday and everyday I’ve known you

  Forever, my heart is only given once

  I did love her, with all that I had to love, my heart, body, mind and soul were hers to do with as she pleased. Devotion and love can sometimes be different things but in my case they had synchronized with Beth and it was one pure, unfiltered feeling that radiated at her.

  “I love you, Beth,” I said and she smiled.

  “I know you do.” Beth bit her bottom lip in a playful manner. “How much do you love me?”

  “I love you more than I love…” I stopped and pantomimed that I was thinking really hard. “Okay, I love you more than I love ice cream.”

  “Oh, that’s good.” She nodded appreciatively. “I love you more than I love Sex and the City.”

  “Wait, you don’t like Sex and the City,” I stated quizzically.

  “I do! It’s my evil secret,” giggled Beth. “Samantha and her friends are like crack to me. I can’t get enough of them.”

  “Beth! Not in front of Bailey!?” I stammered, pretending to be upset.

  “Well, now you know, big guy,” sighed Beth. “Still love me more than ice-cream?”

  “I’ll have to think.” I shook my head. “What do you think Bailey, should we forgive her for liking Sex and the City?” Bailey glanced over his shoulder at the mention of his name and returned immediately to sniffing the underbrush at the park.