THE BOLAN CHRONICLES: Reading #16

16. Approximate Minutes Reading (AMR): 13

Introduction to Characters:

THE BOLAN CHRONICLES

Chapter 3

A House

**The First Guest**

The Christmas season came quickly for the new couple. The first day of December was a Friday, and Jake had the day off from work. His mom had brought over a few decorations, including lights for hanging on the eaves and a small plastic tree and various decorations for inside the house. Donna was thrilled with them and immediately began decorating, placing a reef on the outside of the front door (she'd gotten better with the hammer), and placing garland along the fireplace mantle and along the short interior wall. 

She put the tree together herself and placed it on a makeshift table, two boxes that she’d covered with an old green blanket that her mom had given her. She hung any of the ornaments that hadn't been cracked or broken, and she stood back and smiled.  

Jake looked up from the sink and said, "Get a picture of it. It is our first Christmas together." Donna took the camera from him, a Polaroid that Jake had received from his parents after he'd graduated from 8th grade. She snapped the picture, and after the click and the whir of the negative rolling out from the body of the device, she placed it under her arm and waited.  

When she finally revealed it, Jake smiled and said, "Yep. Gotta keepa theya, dawlin!"  And he pulled his shirt up and flexed. "Take anothah fo' when I'm gone and fo’ when ya just gotta see me, baby!" Donna giggled and took the shot, and the two of them laughed at it together. Jake asked Donna to do the same for him, and reluctantly, she did. Jake took the shot, and when it was finally clear enough to see, he said, "Damn, you're getting a tummy there, Big Bird!"

Donna didn't laugh. She pulled her blouse down and turned her attention to the tree.

Jake waited for a reply. "Come on, Donna, it was a joke."

She looked back at him. She had begun to tear up, but she said, "Oh, it's okay. I know."  And she turned back toward the tree and said, "I know it looks stupid, but it's our baby."

Jake took her by the shoulders and turned her around. He apologized and hugged her. "I'll try to be more considerate, okay? And no, it doesn't look stupid."

"Thank you, Jake."  

Jake pulled himself slowly away from her, still holding her shoulders. He gazed into her eyes and said, "And I think what you meant to say was not 'it's' our baby, but something more like 'he's' our baby, right?" And he smiled. It was the same smile that Donna hadn't recognized weeks earlier, in the car, on the day they'd driven back from their honeymoon, but she put it off as a misunderstanding; as a part of him she would eventually come to know and love, she was sure. 

Before Jake let her go, Donna said, "What do you think about having my parents over for Christmas dinner?"

Jake gave it a moment's thought and replied quickly, "That sounds like a winner to me." Donna hugged him and told him that she'd call them and let him know what they decided. And she hugged him again and then apologized for being so sensitive and told him that she now realized that he was only being funny.

Jake said, "I guess I can't fool you, can I? You got me figured out." And he told her that while she called Dear Mother, he'd be outside, hanging the lights for all to see during this glorious Christmas season, and he grabbed the box of lights and a hammer and the stolen box of nails, and he headed out the door, but before he shut it, he peeked back inside and said, "God damn it, Dearie, I don't have a ladder."

Donna suggested that he ask the neighbor, and that besides, “It might be a good opportunity to get to know them.” Jake agreed.

Donna dialed her parents' number, hoping that her mother would answer.

"Hi Mom."

"Oh, Donna. How are you doing, Honey?"

"I'm so happy, Mom. That's how I'm doing. How are you and Dad doing?"

After a short pause, she replied, "I'm fine, Honey."

Donna wasn't surprised that her mom seemed a bit occupied. She had her suspicions that her father would have been making things even more difficult than usual for her, given his daughter was taking a life's course of which he disapproved.

"Mom, me and Jake would love to have you and Dad over for Christmas dinner."

Another pause, this time longer still, but the answer finally came. "Honey, I will be there, but your father won't."

Donna recognized the defeat in her mother's voice. "Mom? What's wrong? She heard her mother sobbing and sniffing and said, "Mom?"

"Your father left me, Donna. He's gone."

Donna said nothing at first then she replied, "Mom, you have to come here tonight! You have to come here now, okay?"

"Honey, I have a load of wash that isn't finished, and I still haven't..."

"Mom! You have to come here now. Did you hear me?"

Her mom cried aloud, and when she'd finally gathered herself, she told Donna that she would be there by six-o-clock. Donna assured her that it didn't matter what time she arrived and that they would have dinner ready whenever she got there.

When Donna’s mother walked through the door, Jake was there to greet her. He hugged her and expressed how sorry he was for whatever had happened, and that he and Donna were there for her, for whatever she needed. He assured her that he had no problems with Donna spending as much time with her as she needed. He said all of this before he knew the details of the circumstances, and Donna was moved at his sympathy. She was moved that she had something in Jake that she never thought possible. And when Jake let go of her mom and looked back, he gave Donna a look of deep concern. Again, Donna was moved. She loved him so much. He was nothing like the loser who had just left her mother, and Donna knew that she had something special— Jake and a coming baby who she'd love and protect forever.

The three of them sat at the kitchen table. Donna brought three glasses of water. She sat next to her mother and put her arm around her. Jake took a deep breath and said something about what a fool Mr. Keller was to have left such a wonderful woman and that he was sure that in time he would come to his senses.  

When Mrs. Keller spoke, it turned out to be something that neither expected to hear. She took a deep breath and looked at Donna then she asked if she was ready to hear the full truth about her father. When Donna shook her head, Mrs. Keller commenced.

She first begged them to please allow her to talk--to tell her story without interruption. She was afraid that anything they said might send her off track, and she wanted to get everything out without discussing the meaning or rationality of it. She looked at Donna and said, "I don't want to hear your sympathies, for now, anyway." Then she turned to Jake and said, "And I don't want to hear solutions, either.” 

Mrs. Keller began by talking about the way things 'used to be.' Early on in their marriage, Sam was so funny. He joked about almost everything, and people laughed at almost everything he said. He seemed always to be on stage. Even his bosses loved his sense of humor. In an otherwise tense environment, he had the knack of engaging the crowd in a full-out sigh. 

But over time, that began to change, and because it was so gradual, she hadn't recognized it until his sense of humor had nearly disappeared. "I think the first time I realized that there was a problem was when, I don't know, maybe ten years ago, Sam was standing at the window in his office. He had a cup of coffee in his hand." Mrs. Keller sniffed, and Donna walked to the restroom and brought back a long sheet of toilet paper. 

Mrs. Keller continued, "I walked over to him and stood there, hoping that he'd notice that I had come in, but he didn't, and then he sighed real deep and he said, 'God, this is getting old.' And when I asked him what was getting old, he just looked back at me, then back out the window and said, 'I think you know, Linda.' And the funny thing is that he was right; I did know what was getting old; at least for him."

Over the next few years, the two had grown farther apart. He spent hours in his study, reading or watching television. And when she would attempt to converse with him, he seemed to check out, giving her short answers and using any number of excuses to evade her questions, whether it was “crucial” responsibilities, or a television show that was just about to start, or a colleague that was waiting for his phone call. And she was willing to accept him and his changes, but in time, the avoidance seemed to suck the life out of her, and she began to feel numb--without purpose or meaning or hope.

Mrs. Keller looked at Donna and said, "I'm going to tell you something that I never thought I would, Honey, and I need to remind you that I only want you to listen."

Donna nodded.

Mrs. Keller looked down and said, "I began drinking. It was the way I dealt with the problem, like so many do." She began to cry. "I never thought that I would have a problem with drinking, but I've learned that nobody thinks that they ever will. And by the time I realized that it was a problem, it was too hard to stop."

She looked at Donna, who sat expressionless. Then she looked down and said in a matter-of-fact tone, "You knew, didn't you?" 

Donna nodded. "I did, Mom."

Mrs. Keller cried again and said, "I'm so ashamed. I'm so sad about it."

Donna kept her promise and said nothing.

Mrs. Keller told of how she'd found a friend who told her about a place called Clarity Rehabilitation that she could go to for help. Mr. Keller wasn't interested in getting involved, but he had no problem with paying for it. And it helped. In fact, she was still healthy. And she'd learned so much more about herself than she'd expected, and without the rehab, she believed that she would have destroyed herself.

By now, both Donna and her mother were crying. And though Donna wanted desperately to reach out to her mom and hold her and tell her that it was okay and that life was going to get better for her now, she didn't say a word.

When Mrs. Keller returned from her stay at the center, Mr. Keller welcomed her, but she knew that things were going to change; that her new-found independence might well be a thorn in her husband's side. 

And it was. He began to spend more and more time away from home. At first, she had no problem with it. In fact, it seemed to take the edge off of the tension in the home, not having him there. But she found herself missing the kind of communication and honesty that she'd discovered at Clarity. And Mr. Keller would walk through the door late at night, and Mrs. Keller would be sitting in front of the television. She would ask him how his night was, and he would coldly answer. But eventually she wanted the truth. She wanted to know where he had gone and what he had done and with whom he had spent his time. Mr. Keller hated the questions.

One night, when she asked him about his evening, he turned to her and said, "God damn it, Linda. Let well-enough alone."

When she asked him what he meant by that, he told her that he was perfectly happy with the way things were going; that he enjoyed not being tied down, and that if she was going to insist that things change in their relationship, they certainly would, though maybe not the way she anticipated.

Mrs. Keller sighed and said, "And now, he's gone. He's finally made the decision to leave." She looked at Jake and smiled. 

Jake attempted to say something, but Donna's mom stopped him. She sat up straight and took a deep breath, and she looked at Donna and said, "And your father is in a relationship, Honey."

"What?"

"He was all packed up and ready to go when I came in from my rehab meeting on Wednesday night."

Donna asked, "What did he say?"

"He said that there was no reason to discuss things; that I already knew it was over…a long time ago, and that it was time to stop playing 'hide-and-seek.' And just before he left, he told me that I was going to eventually find out about the affair, so he might as well tell me himself."

"My God, Mom. Who is it?"

Mrs. Keller said, "It's nobody you know, thank God. He met this woman at the gym. When I asked him how long it had been going on, he just said, 'Quite a while.' 

Donna didn't know what else to say. But Jake did. 

"How old is she?"

Surprised at the question, Mrs. Keller looked at him and said, "I have no idea." Then she added, "What difference does that make?"

Donna came to his defense. "Well, lot's of men dad's age start to go through a mid-life crisis, and they start looking for..."

Mrs. Keller said, "Please don't attempt to tell me what I already know. And I most certainly don't want either of you painting a picture of that man as a victim of what millions of other real men overcome time after time." Then she added, "That is very feeble!"

Jake kindly asked if it was now permissible for them to talk. Mrs. Keller said yes, and though she would do her best, she may have very few answers.

Jake said, "When I asked about her age, I didn’t mean anything by it; just curious, that’s all."

Mrs. Keller stared at Jake for a moment, then she said, "I know that." She lowered her head and added, "And I'm sorry if I seemed defensive."

"It's okay, really,” Jake said,  “You have all the reasons in the world to be upset right now.”

Donna was trying to make sense of it all. It was a mass of tangled events and feelings and confusion and fear. She thought about a time when she was in the fifth grade, ten years old, her mom had told her that her dad couldn't go to the talent show that night because of a meeting he had, but she knew that it wasn't true, because she had heard them arguing about it in their bedroom. She had heard her dad say that he didn't really want to waste an entire evening watching ten-year-olds trying to act. Now, the same sad feelings came back, and she began to cry. And then a horrible thought occurred to her: Maybe I'm to blame for all of this. I wasn't really wanted when I was conceived, and I got pregnant as a teenager, before I even finished high school, and now I've dropped out of school with plans to have this baby. Oh, God."

"Donna," Her mom said, "I'm so sorry about all of this." And she began to cry along with her.

Uncomfortable and unsure of what to say or do, Jake stood up to get more tissues. When he returned, he found the two of them standing up, crying. In a weak embrace, Donna patted her mom on the back, and Mrs. Keller said nothing.

Jake suggested that they have dinner, so Donna set the table and brought in the sandwiches and orange juice. She was sorry that there wasn't more; it was all they had at the time. Her mother told her not to apologize; it was perfect, and she must have remembered how much she loved fried bologna sandwiches. Jake tried to joke a bit about how he'd never even heard of fried bologna before meeting Donna. Mrs. Keller only smiled. Donna was embarrassed but tried not to show it.

They sat quietly as they finished the food. Jake collected the dishes and Donna washed. Mrs. Keller sat at the table, her eyes transfixed on nothing. 

Mrs. Keller stood up and walked to the kitchen. "You know that man never once asked about you two? Not before the pregnancy and not after." She looked at Jake, "I would try to talk to him about you, but he wanted nothing to do with it." She looked back at Donna and said, "I should have known." And she forced a smile and said, "Guess I'm just a slow learner."

Donna hugged her again and assured her that she wasn't a slow learner; she just harbored hope, which said a lot about her character. They sat down together in the living room, next to the fireplace.

After a few minutes, Mrs. Keller announced that she'd better get back. The dog needed to be let outside, and besides, she was very tired and needed to sleep; that it was going to be a long week, and she'd need as much energy as she could find.

Donna made her mom promise that she would come back in the next couple of days, and she warned her that she would be badgering her with calls. Her mom kissed and thanked her, and when Jake hugged Donna’s mom, she whispered in his ear, "Please be good to my baby. She's all I have."

Jake promised her that he would.