My parents, more specifically, my mother, could tell that something had happened, but I didn’t tell her what. By that point, my wounds had healed, at least the physical ones. Still, knowing that I needed support, my mother gave me all I could ever want. And my father, despite his stoicism, was still my father. He would always be my rock. For those two months, it was as if my life away from home had never happened. I managed to forget about that day in the mall, more than a year before, and the snowballing of events that had happened after. I forgot about Gary, and Ian, and about all the men. At least, I did for a little while. ‘Honey?’ I turned toward the door from the house as I stood on the rear patio. My mother, dressed in her favorite holiday sweater, emerged with two cups of hot cocoa. I smiled. It was Christmas Day. We had spent the morning opening presents and watching old home movies. The evening before, we had all gone caroling in the neighborhood. Yet as much as I had. He said to me before answering the call. Flipping open the phone, he said, Hello, and walked into the computer room. I got up and hid around the corner trying to hear his conversation. Yeah, shes home. I cant talk to you right now but Ill call you back on the way to work, he said. I could hear a female voice on the phone but couldnt make out the words. Ill call you back in about a half hour, Babe. Cant wait to see you tonight, he whispered. I heard the voice continue. Okay, Babe. Stop that! You are giving me a hard on and Ive got to go past my wife on the way out of here, Jeff said, again whispering. See ya tonight, he said, shutting the phone. I went back to the kitchen table and looked in the newspaper, pretending to read it. By the time Jeff entered the kitchen, he had his pilot uniform and was adjusting his tie. Sorry. That was Scott, the guy Im flying with tonight. He was just calling to tell me . . . I just sat there and tuned out the rest of his lies. I somehow managed to.
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