Love Among the Thorns (4 page)

Dread climbed over my body like thorny brambles in a dense jungle. Being preoccupied, I hardly recalled the ride home. I was only a few blocks from home when I realized my street was near. A cool breeze blowing through my hair sharpened my sense that home was rapidly approaching. I blotted the warm tears filling my eyes. Soon, I would be standing before the emasculated male structure. Twisting my hair nervously, I knew I wasn’t ready to face Jeff. Under these circumstances, I’d never be ready. When the taxi pulled up to the house, I felt a shocking reality
—
there would be no male figure in my home. That would be a void I would have to learn to live with.

           
From the taxi, I could see that Jeff had packed a few boxes and placed them on the porch; he was preparing to leave as instructed. I watched as he lovingly carried Joey on his hip. He knelt clumsily to fix a few items hanging over the side of a cardboard box and I winced. My heart went out to him as he seemed distraught and listless. This emotion would do me no good. I had to be stronger than I’d ever been. Before I knew it, I was standing timidly on the pavement of the walkway.
  

           
It was ten o’clock when Melissa ran to greet me. I hardly responded to her gleeful cries. My mind was hopelessly locked as I viewed the back door. Witnessing my husband’s intimate encounter had muddled my thinking and the garage was a shameful reminder.
 

Jeff looked upward as I moved eagerly toward the house. I wanted to hold both my children at once. Now they would be spending more time with me. Jeff reluctantly released Joey as I reached my arms out to him. There was a new awareness in his eyes; he knew visits with his children would be few. Jeff gazed into my eyes with a pleading look of self-pity. His smooth brows furrowed, and his once kissable mouth turned downward at the corners. Although his expression seemed a bit exaggerated, I could feel his suffering. Grief, his entire body stiffened from the bondage of it.
The sadness
, I had witnessed it’s disparage before. So, this was the unexplained sadness that crept in between his ungoverned laughter, and his corny jokes. How awful he must have felt.

           
Jeff’s brooding was eating me alive. He went about the house packing his things and not touching anything the two of us had cherished. No, he wanted to leave these reminders. I pretended not to notice as he crept through the drawers, got the very last of his clothing, and tenderly folded it. It was obvious he wanted me to say,
stop this silliness, Jeff.
 
We can work this out.
But, my lips dared not part.
 
Hanging my head, I reluctantly walked away. The children were inquisitive. I took them to the backyard to play on the swing.
 
Pausing at the patio door, I could feel the haunting memory of the day we bought the swing set home for the children. We’d had fun working together, and the children enjoyed the pleasure of having two parents, engaged in mutual respect and harmony.

           
Within the hour, Jeff had loaded the car and slowly drove away. The children, who were once all bubbles, became curious and developed a strong reaction toward my tears. Jeff drove out of our lives that day. He didn’t call back that night. As a matter of fact, it was a week before he had enough courage to call and ask to see the children.
 
I couldn’t deny him his fatherly rights, no matter how much I wanted to. They were his children, too.

           
When Jeff came to the door, he looked unusually tired and unkempt. He hadn’t bothered to comb his hair or shave. “Hi, Celeste, may I come in? I can’t stay long.”

           
“Sure.” I paced nervously, wringing my hands. “I’ll get the children.” What I really wanted to say was, please come in and just hold me. I’ve missed you terribly, but my body reacted in a cold shudder of goose bumps. I really didn’t want him to put his filthy hands on my body, no matter how much I missed him. I wondered how I could even play this game with my unstable emotions.

Jeff lowered himself toward the floor and the children rushed excitedly into their father’s arms. He cried as he held them near. Jeff snuggled and kissed their cheeks with his bristling low-growth of beard. He gave each of them a large beautifully wrapped box and then placed an envelope in their hands. They placed the envelope on my lap and ran off to play. Squeals of delight proved they were more concerned with their new game box, and the colorful box it arrived in. When the excitement of the children was at its peak, Jeff quietly left. I wondered if he’d ever return, and, if I truly wanted him too. Upon my examination, I discovered that each envelope contained ten thousand dollars. I had no idea why Jeff would do such a thing; however, I placed the money in their college fund.

           
After going back to work, I tried to keep our living standard the same. The children were taxing and I was always tired. Exactly two weeks after the day, Clint appeared on my doorstep. If I’d known it was him, he would have never stepped foot into my house. I was talking to mother on the phone, trying to reassure her that we were eating well and that the children had enough clothes to wear.
 

Melissa heard the doorbell. Perhaps, thinking that it could be her father, she opened the door. I didn’t hear Clint come in, so when I looked into his eyes I was appalled. I held the phone, with mouth agape. “Clint! Mother, excuse me please. Let me call you back.” Before Mother could say another word, I hung up the phone in her face. I got up from the sofa inflamed with anger and ready to torch Clint’s notorious rear end. “What could you possibly want, Clint? Did you come to gloat?” I raised a brow. “Did you come to proclaim yourself winner?”
           
In his usually lazy tone, Clint sneered, “Don’t be ridiculous, Celeste. I’m not the winner here.” Insecurely, he pushed his hands deep into his jeans. “You know that Jeff loves you. He doesn’t want me.”

           
I could feel my rage mounting. Hundreds of anger-driven words were forcing me to unload their charge on Clint and I had to calm myself. As badly as I wanted to ravage his carcass, my children couldn’t witness this outburst. I sent them to their room and out of hearing range. “Now Clint, let’s talk about this.” Sitting down on the sofa, I tucked one leg beneath me. I nodded for Clint to sit also. He parked himself lazily on the arm of Jeff’s EZ-chair.

Shrugging my shoulders, I felt as if I’d strike at any moment. “Talk Clint. Why are you here?”

           
Clint rolled his eyes toward the ceiling and placed his hand on his cheek. “You mean you don’t know?” he lamented, sluggishly.

           
“Know what, Clint!” I asked, exasperated with his slow and easy demeanor.

           
Again, Clint cast his eyes sarcastically toward the ceiling as if he couldn’t believe I hadn’t heard. “Jeff is missing. He hasn’t been to work in four days now. His job called me, asking if I knew where he was. That’s why I’m here.”

           
I wrenched my neck and huffed, “Why ask me?” I folded my arms. “I haven’t seen him and have no idea where he could be. Shouldn’t you know?”

           
“Well,” Clint sighed leisurely, “I guess I thought he’d come back here. From the looks of his apartment he’s been gone an awful long time. He never unpacked those boxes and his apartment is filthy. You know Jeff is
not
an untidy man.”

           
Growing concerns made me stroke my forehead. Where could he be? It was unlike him to just disappear. Then I wondered, could this break-up be more than he could cope with. Could he really love me, despite the fact that he was gay? “Clint, I’ll call his family. He might be there. I will find Jeff.”

           
Day seven didn’t yield Jeff, and my life didn’t yield sleep. We spent countless hours searching for Jeff and our white SUV, which was our only lead. The police were searching, but they weren’t very cooperative; after all we did have a domestic dispute. They said that Jeff just didn’t want to be found. But, they didn’t know my Jeff, like I knew my Jeff. On day eight, I awoke from a disturbing dream, my gown drenched in perspiration. In this dream, I knew exactly where Jeff was. I had gained confidence that I could locate him.

Looking at the clock, I noted that it was almost four o’clock in the morning. Abruptly, I got up from bed, put on my slippers, and hurried out to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. I had plans to make, but first, I had to place a few calls. After pouring myself a cup of coffee, I scribbled on a note pad. First, I needed to call Fannie and ask her to keep the kids for a day or so. Then, almost in a mad frenzy I rambled in Jeff’s desk for the phone number to the Hide-A-Way Lodge.

We had spent our honeymoon in that lodge. Cabin twenty-five was our love nest. Jeff had often said that if he ever wanted to get away from it all, the lake would be his escape. I ran my fingers through my hair as I tried to locate the number. As I nervously tossed papers and brochures, I made a small mess of Jeff’s desk. All I had to do was call Grandpa Rick and his granddaughter Pamela. They managed those cabins and would tell me anything I needed to know.
 

           
Feeling as though this situation was an extreme emergency, I placed a call to the lodge. It was now five-thirty and I knew that someone had to be stirring. I recalled that they opened the little store and restaurant at six a.m. I sat patiently waiting for someone to pick up. The phone was in its tenth ring when all of a sudden I heard a perky voice on the other end. “Hide-A-Way Lodge.”

           
I sighed with relief. “Good morning, this is Celeste Vincent. Can you tell me if Jeffery Vincent has arrived yet?”

           
“Oh, hi Mrs. Vincent, it’s me, Pamela. Yes, he’s here. Shall I ring your cabin?”

           
“Oh, yes please.” I held the phone to my chest and sent up a small prayer of thanks.

           
The phone rang, but no one answered. Finally, by ring nine, Pamela came back on the line. “He isn’t answering, Mrs. Vincent. Would you like to leave a message?”

           
“Pamela! Are you sure Jeff is there?”

           
“Yes. He checked in three days ago.”

           
“How was he?” I asked, twisting my necklace between my fingers.
     

           
“Excuse me.”

           
“I mean, did he look well? He’s been terribly ill lately.”

           
“He looked like hell, Mrs. Vincent. But then, everyone around here looks like hell to me. Especially, when they’ve been up all night like Mr. Vincent. He didn’t say anything about feeling bad. He had coffee with Grandpa Rick and me last night. He told us you’d be here shortly.”