CHAPTER 1
Dear Bob:
I am not sure how to explain this to you,but I will try. We have tried talking in the past,but I always felt that you never understoodanything that I had said. I need some time formyself, some time to sort through my feelings.Hopefully I can decide what direction my lifewill take.
No one knows about this letter, and Ihaven't told anyone where I will be going. Thecheckbook is in the desk in the kitchen. I havepaid all the bills to date, and have made surethat the refrigerator has food in it for now.
I called work and told them I had to takean emergency leave of absence for a few weeks.If anyone asks, just tell them that I have gone tosee Joan. Tell them that she called with a familyemergency, and since we are best friends, sheasked me to come out immediately. I am surethat no one will question you.
Knowing you, I am sure that this will bevery embarrassing. I am sorry. I just don't knowwhere to turn or what to do. I have thoughtabout this for a long time, I have to do this, Ihave no other choice. Please try to understand.If you can't understand, be supportive and giveme this time. Don't spend time looking for me.I will call in about two weeks. Hopefully I willbe ready to come home within that time. I willbe okay, really.
The kids will be home late. They have playpractice after school. Donna is giving them aride home, so you don't have to worry.
I will call you.
Mary
After reading the note over for the fourth time, I amtrembling as I fold it and place it in an envelope with Bob'sname on it. If I leave it on his dresser he will be sure to seeit, and the kids won't find it if by chance they come homebefore he does.
I can't think about what I am doing any longer. I haveto walk out now or I will never do it. One last look around.I have to take one last look.
Candy's room. She certainly is all girl. The curtains andbedspread all pink and ruffly. It doesn't matter that she isgrown up at fifteen; she still has stuffed animals lining herroom, each with its own special memory. I am sure thatshe has every one she has ever gotten. As I pick up the pinkteddy bear she had as a baby, the music box in it strikes outthe final notes of its last wind. I used to put it in her cribwhen she slept so that she wouldn't feel alone.
Rob the 12th grade heart throb. Someone had taggedthat saying to him earlier this year, and it never faded. Hisroom is an example of everything neutral. Nothing personalhanging on his walls to identify him or to give him meaning.He has always been able to hide behind a wall of protectionnot ever letting anyone see the real Rob. Somewhat like hisfather. I remember the time he found a bird that was neardeath in the back yard, and he cared for that bird night andday, nursing it back to health. The day he was finally ableto let it go, he stood at the back door for at least an hourwatching, and, I suspected, hoping it would return to him,but yet never sharing his feelings with us.
Maybe when I come back, if I come back, I will be ableto help him realize that it is all right to be vulnerable topeople and family.
I have to leave. Now!
As I place the envelope on Bob's dresser I feel an urgencythat tells me to hurry. No one should be home for two hours,yet a warning is making me feel uneasy. I have alreadypacked two suitcases and a garment bag. This should beenough to get me through whatever time I need. I just haveto get away.
As I drive out the drive way, one last look. It is a beautifulhouse, in a setting that anyone would be proud to be a partof it. A brick ranch house with flowers encircling it. We hadalso planted flowers on each side of the driveway creating awelcome sight to anyone visiting. But material things werenever very important to me. Oh sure, I enjoyed everythingwe were able to buy for ourselves and the kids, but I alwaysseemed to be unhappy. Not so that anyone could see, butdown deep in my soul. I guess that I was a little like Rob,usually keeping my doubts and thoughts to myself.
Good-bye Bob. I will call you. I will. Maybe tomorrow.
CHAPTER 2
I haven't decided where I will stop, but I have decided thatI will stay in Wisconsin. It doesn't make too much sense totravel a long distance. I can get lost within a few hours ofhome. The first nice small town I feel comfortable in will bemy home for at least the next few weeks.
It is strange to start driving and not care what highwayI am on or what direction I take. Something so completelydifferent from my life at home. Everything is so well plannedout without any consideration for me or what I might wantto do. My life has rotated around Bob and the kids for solong that I have lost any identity that I had, and have becomeonly a chauffeur and a maid. I have tried to make themunderstand that I need more in my life, but every time Istart this conversation, it is as if no one hears me. Bob keepsreminding me that I expect everything to be perfect, and thatlife isn't perfect. Is that really what I expect, or do I miss thesimple everyday considerations that each of us long for.
Picking up the newspapers off the floor instead ofleaving it there for me to pick up, not leaving his glass byhis chair side, making the bed when he is the last one outof it. Wouldn't it be nice to come home just once and havea meal started or the dishes put away. No not just once, itwould be nice to have that on a regular basis. I work justas much as anyone else, yet when I get home I still have anevening of work to do. I would love to sit down, read thepaper, watch television, and have someone else cook themeal and then clean up afterwards. I don't think that thisis too much to ask, yet I honestly believe I will never see it.I have tried a number of times to make myself understood,but I always get comments like: "You know I hate to dodishes." As if that is the one thing that I love to do. Or, "Ifyou would plan the meals ahead then I would be glad to helpyou." I guess I could take time to plan out meals, but howmuch trouble would it be to come home and find hamburgerhelper being made in a pan, nothing fancy, or maybe grilledcheese sandwiches. Just the fact someone, just once wouldsay, "Here let me do this for you tonight and you sit".
The kids aren't much better. Oh, they are great if I needhelp, or if company is coming and I have a mountain of workto do, that is, if I ask them to help. I can never remembereither one of them doing a task on their own without beingasked to do it. I am sure there were times they did, but rightnow I can't remember any.
Maybe Bob is right, maybe I do expect everything to gosmoothly, perfectly in his words. I don't think I do. WhatI need is to be loved. I need caring, I need romance. I needBob to put the paper away for just one evening and noticethat I am in the room with him. I need him to hold me afterwe make love, and not just turn away and say `good night'.I just need to be held.
The way it looks now, I have to choose between my familyand their needs and my own, and I feel outnumbered.
CHAPTER 3
I realize that I have been driving for almost three hours witha short break at a rest area and one stop for gas. I have alwayshated driving long distances, but today the time has flown by.It is starting to approach late afternoon, and I better stop atthe next town that has a friendly look, and stay the night.
As I enter Midland, I see a small cafe with a number oflarge trucks in the parking area. Bob had always said thatif you are looking for a place to eat, keep an eye open for arestaurant where truckers eat. The food is usually good andthe prices reasonable. I made a mental note where it was sothat I could come back for supper after I found a place tostay. The town was a small town, with one block of storeson each side of the street. At the end of the downtown areawas a gas station, and next to it a grocery store. I stopped atthe gas station to ask if there was a motel in town.
"Why lady, you just passed it when you came intotown."
"I'm sorry, I must have gone right by it without noticing.Can you tell me where it is?"
"Sure can. Just turn around and go back two blocks.Did you happen to notice a truck stop named Dolly's?"
I nodded that I did.
"Well, the motel is attached to the south side ofDolly's."
I thanked the man, and went back to my car feelinga little sheepish. Here I was in a town that was barely twoblocks long in total, and I had missed the only motel. I mademy way back to Dolly's Motel, deciding that if I didn't likethe look of it I would travel to the next town, even thoughit was close to dusk.
On closer inspection, Dolly's Motel was a typicaleight unit motel. Nothing fancy, no pool, but color TVwas advertised on the sign, as if this were something thathad been recently added. It did look clean and neat, and Idecided that after the emotional strain of leaving home andthe driving, I needed to stop and collapse, and Dolly's wouldbe as good as any other.
The office to the motel was in the restaurant. As Iapproached the cashier, I found out that Dolly really didexist. She was about fifty five years old, medium build,brownish red hair that was pulled back into a French twist,and she was running around the restaurant giving each tableher personal touch. When she saw me standing at the cashregister, she greeted me with her own special smile that litup her face.
"Well hi there, can I help you?"
"Is this the office to the motel?"
"Sure is. It just saves me a lot of steps if I have the officein here. Can I help you?"
"I'm interested in renting a room. What is your rate?"
"You look as though you need a rest. Been driving allday? You look all worn out."
When I didn't answer her she continued.
"The rooms are nothing fancy, but I guarantee they areclean. The price is $40.00 a day, and if you stay longer Imight be able to give you a good rate."
"That sounds fine. I'll take a room, but only fortonight."
"How many will be staying?"
"Just me."
"Okay honey. Just fill out this form, and I'll get youset up."
"This is really nice" I stated, as I looked around the cafe.There was a counter with about 10 stools, and red checkedtablecloths covered the tables that lined the walls. All in theentire cafe could hold about 75 people.
"Thanks. After my divorce I decided that if I was goingto make a living I better look out for myself because noone else was going to do it, and I went to the bank andtalked them into giving me a loan. Low and behold I openedDolly's Cafe. Here honey, here's your key. You will be innumber 5. You can park your car right in front of the doorif you like. After you get settled, if you would like to comeback for a cup of coffee and a piece of pie, it's on me."
I thanked her, took the key to room number 5 and wentback to my car. As I pulled the car in front of the room, Isuddenly felt a loneliness ebbing over me. I had to get myluggage in the room before someone came up to me andasked what was wrong. I have never been good at hiding myfeelings and tonight was no exception.
Opening the door I walked into what would be myhome for the next few days. The bedspread was a chocolatebrown color, with matching curtains. There were pictureson the walls that gave the room a special, personal touch.They were of beautiful landscapes, not the typical motelnonsense pictures. There was also a recliner in the cornerwith a writing table next to it. The carpeting was of thekitchen carpet variety in brown and beige tweed, not verysoft, but very practical. All in all it was very inviting, asinviting as a motel room can be.
As I looked around, it became clear I was alone. Therewouldn't be anyone knocking at my door, or anyone callingfor my help or advice. I was alone, and that is exactly theway I wanted it. Or did I? Suddenly the loneliness washedover me again, only this time there was no one around,and no reason to hold back the tears. As I collapsed on thebed I sobbed as if my heart was breaking. It was breakingbit by bit, and this time I could cry and not care if anyoneheard me. This time I could cry and not stop because I wasafraid that someone would see my swollen eyes. Cryingwas nothing new to me; I seem to be doing a lot of thatlately. I could be running an errand, driving down thestreet, and unexpectedly a wave of emotion would engulfme and suddenly tears would be streaming down my face.No explanation, nothing in particular that I was thinkingabout, just a deep feeling of being alone. The only thing is,this time I really am alone. There won't be anyone cominghome later. This time the answers are up to me. I can nolonger push my problems to the back of my mind. I havemade the decision to deal with them; there is no turningback, not now.
With that new realization my sobbing turned into amournful quiet crying. A crying that would not stop, andcould only be hushed by welcomed sleep.
CHAPTER 4
"Good morning. You don't look like you slept too good lastnight honey." Dolly greeted as she automatically poured acup of coffee for me. I had hoped I had carefully coveredup the puffiness around my eyes to hide the telltale signs oftears from the night before.
"No, I guess I did drive too far yesterday. I didn'trealize how exhausted I was. I think I'll just have toast thismorning."
"Not much to start the day on honey, but then if youget hungry, you can always stop back for that piece of pieyou missed last night."
I had always resented being called "honey" by mostpeople, but coming from Dolly it all seemed natural. Iliked her small town welcome and the pleasant look on herface, I could understand why she had the business she did.Everyone liked her and her carefree attitude, yet she alsogave the impression that she honestly liked you and wasconcerned. Like her comment about toast not being muchto start off the day. She seemed to really care.
I drank my coffee, and for the first time I noticed myfellow customers. There were four truck drivers sitting at thecounter. Around the tables that lined the walls were whatI assumed to be locals from the town. Most of the peoplelooked as if they were retired, each of them talking fromone table to another. It was clear that Dolly's was the placeto come for breakfast, and the morning gossip. When Dollybrought me my toast, I told her that I would be staying afew more days.
"Well glad to have you honey. Are you visiting anyonehere, or just escaping?"
My sudden glance must have told her that I was indeedescaping, and surprised that she guessed my secret. I thenlooked down into my coffee cup away from her eyes. I couldfeel Dolly's gaze search my face, curious by my suddenquietness and by my feeble attempt to concentrate on thefood that lay in front of me.
"I usually don't ask this of strangers, but since you willbe staying with me for a few days, you don't by chance needsomething to keep you busy? I am desperately in need ofsome help in the restaurant for the next week or two, andif you are interested, you could work off the charge of theroom, plus make a few bucks at the same time."
Work. I had never thought about working while I wasaway. It does make sense. I can't sit in my room all day andall night trying to sort through my feelings. I do need timeto; as Dolly put it, escape from my own thoughts.
"It sounds interesting, but I have never waited on tablesbefore."
"Have you ever cleaned up after someone? Or cookedand served diner, and then did the dishes?"
Little did she know that I had done this all my marriedlife? "Yes I have done all those things."
"That is all you have to know. And then, you have totreat the customers as you would like to be treated. That'sall. You think about it, and let me know. But if you areinterested, you can start this morning about 10:00, or thisafternoon around 2:00. It is a little slower at those times,and it will give you time to get used to the routine. I'll checkback with you later."
"Dolly, I don't have to think about it. It sounds perfect.It will be just what I need. If you can put up with mymistakes, I promise to work hard for you."
"Great! What was your name again honey?"
"Mary ... Marilyn."
"Okay Marilyn, come back about 10:00 and I will showyou the ropes. Don't worry, everyone here in Midland isfriendly to newcomers. It won't be hard to learn." With thatshe was off to another table, stopping to say a few words asshe passed each table.
I did it, I said yes, and I felt good about it. There was noone around to try to change my mind, to try to steer me inanother direction. I made my own decision. It wasn't goingto be a job of importance, but I was going to pay my ownway, and for the first time someone was going to appreciatethe work I was doing for them.
