To Honor (6 page)

Sherman nodded, as if expecting such as answer. “Most people don’t. That’s why I don’t bother giving the advice. I will give you some advice that will work and requires no thought.”

Intrigued, Derek stared at the man while he asked, “That is?”

“No matter how unnerved you get, be certain to show up tomorrow.”

Chapter Seven

The door loomed before Evelyn, appearing larger than life. She couldn’t bring herself to touch the handle and open it— to face Derek. Despite her conversation with her therapist the day before, she didn’t believe that avoiding her husband was enabling her depression. If anything, she thought it was helping. As long as she didn’t have to see him she could spend a majority of the day pretending nothing had happened.

Until she couldn’t drown the voices out anymore.

I like you better than my wife.

She’s a crazy bitch anyway.

Th
at was when she’d sneak off to
shower and cry, letting the water wash away her tears and muffle the sounds of her sobs.

Evelyn took a step back and glanced over her shoulder as she contemplated returning to her room. Screw this marital counseling and the psych ward in general. If she saw her whore of a husband, the first thing
she
would do is—

“Mrs. Moore, so good to finally meet you. I do hope you’ll come join us.”

A prickling heat caressed her cheeks as she realized the door had opened and a kindly looking gentleman peered out at her. Whereas Dr. Williams was overweight and middle-aged, the man that stood smiling at her appeared slim and elderly. Evelyn didn’t want to like him, but she felt herself instantly drawn to him.

“H-How did you know who I was?”

Dr. Sherman stepped back and held the door open as he ushered her in. “I’ve seen a photo of you.”

The heat in Evelyn’s cheeks seemed to intensify as she remembered Derek’s letter. He’d mentioned a photo of her in lingerie. Surely he hadn’t shown a picture like that to the therapist! “It seems I’m at a disadvantage already.”

“Never in my office,” Sherman reassured her, his tone even yet sounding authoritative. “I wouldn’t allow such a thing to happen to any of my patients.”

What reassurance she gained from his words was washed away in a dizzying range of emotions when she walked in the room. Derek stood within and, as their gazes met, two desires competed within her. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to double up her fist and knock him a good one, or run into his arms and beg him never to hurt her again. Evelyn weighed her options and, with some effort, locked the emotions away into a tiny box.

If he wanted anything from her other than common courtesy, he was going to have to work for it.

* * * *

Derek looked his wife over and his guilt multiplied ten times over. Her usually tan complexion was now a sallow hue, making the laugh lines that accented her eyes look more like sad wrinkles. The auburn locks that framed her face hung limply, as if they hadn’t been brushed in days. It was his wife’s eyes that bothered him the most though. The blue gaze that stared at him now wasn’t the bright, come-hither that he remembered. Instead, they reminded him of a one way mirror. He could see himself reflected in her eyes, but he couldn’t see past them to Evelyn anymore.

“Hi.” He offered her the greeting in a low tone, hoping it would ease the tension between them. As a gesture of courtesy, he half-turned a chair, offering it to her.

Evelyn used her hand to toss a few strands of hair over her shoulder before shooting him a look full of daggers. Without a word, she walked past him and took the seat he wasn’t offering her. Derek tried to clamp down the hurt that vibrated through him like a shot of electricity. After what he’d done, he had no right to get angry now.

Sherman, who had probably watched the whole exchange, walked to his desk and then settled into his chair. “Well, Mrs. Moore—“

“Evelyn,” she interrupted. “I prefer to be called Evelyn. It’s been made clear I’m no longer welcome to the Moore name.”

Before Derek could protest, Sherman shook his head. “On the contrary, my dear. I would think your presence here would attest to the opposite.”

“I think my presence here is nothing more than a guilty conscious and a paycheck.” Evelyn’s words were clipped, acidic.

It was then that Derek realized just how deeply he had hurt his wife. The Evelyn he knew, the woman he loved, would never had said such things. She was so full of love and life, kindness and compassion. The woman who sat before him was jaded, angry and full of pain. Remorse, sharp and intense, stabbed at him.

I did this to her. I made her into this. Oh god, Evelyn, look at what I’ve done to you.

“The thing about guilt,” Sherman replied, his demeanor still calm as he leaned back in his chair, “is that it can’t happen unless you care.”

Derek clenched his jaw. He wanted to chime in, to fall onto his knees and promise her that he cared. To show her everything he’d learned during therapy with Dr. Sherman the past week. He remained silent, afraid he would ruin the point the therapist was trying to make.

The minutes ticked by as silence weighed heavy between them. Evelyn’s brow was furrowed, and a memory came unbidden to Derek. She’d worn that same look of concentration, years ago, when they’d spent a quiet Christmas Eve putting a puzzle together. The silence back then had been companionable, full of absent caresses and cocoa. Good times, happier times.

“I don’t understand. I get the concept, I suppose, but not how it applies.” Evelyn continued to speak directly at Sherman, not even offering Derek a glance of acknowledgment.

Derek turned his attention to Sherman too, wanting to hear the explanation. Perhaps there would be a subtle message in there for him? A nudge as to how to push things in the right direction.

Sherman tapped his fingers on his desk a moment, brow raised as he studied Evelyn. “Have you ever seen those SPCA commercials? The ones with the abused cats and dogs?”

“Yes, of course.” She nodded, her lips pressed in a firm line.

Derek had seen those too. He remembered a particular one that had played after their cat died of old age about three years ago. Evelyn had curled up in his arms, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. “I want a baby,” she’d said. “A real baby. I’m so lonely.”

“Do you feel guilt when you see them? A deep urge to do something to help?” Sherman asked.

Once again, she nodded. “It breaks my heart to see them. To know someone was cruel enough to starve or beat those poor animals, or ignore them.”

Sherman raised a finger. “But you didn’t do it, so why feel guilty?”

“Because…” Evelyn paused and Derek held his breath, waiting for her answer. “I dunno,” she finally admitted.

“You care.”

“I do but I—
”
She stopped speaking and stared at him for a moment. The look on her face was stunned, as if she’d just discovered a profound truth. “Oh…” Her voice sounded breathy, surprised.

Derek saw his opportunity and seized it. Her wall had been cracked and he needed to hurry before she had the chance to rebuild it. “I do care, Evelyn. I’ve always cared, but I was too stupid to know how to show it. I know how to show it now, how to be the husband you deserve. I can’t prove that if you don’t give me a chance. Please, can you give me a chance?”

“I…I…” Evelyn stood and backed slowly towards the door. “I need to think about this,” she said. Before Derek could protest, she fled out the door.

He sat in the chair, numb and uncertain. He’d thought for sure they’d had her. “What just happened?” he asked.

“We took a step forward and she retreated. Tomorrow we’ll take another, the next day more.”

Derek turned to face Sherman again. “She left. That’s not progress.”

The therapist merely smiled as he leaned back into his chair. “Tomorrow, young man, you’ll learn to have faith in me.”

Chapter Eight

The next morning Evelyn sat in her room, staring out the window. The sunshine cast rays on the grounds, making them appear warm and inviting. Evelyn couldn’t remember the last time she’d went outside for the sake of simply being out. Her life had been reduced to grocery shopping and pressing errands. She was afraid of going outside now. She knew what the world could do to you.

The stoplight was red. She swore the stupid light was always red. It wasn’t very far from her house and she believed, on days when she really had somewhere to go, that the light turned red just for her. Evelyn sat glaring at it, but her anger quickly dissolved at the sight of the infant seat in her rear view mirror.

Today was their first check up. Excitement tickled the insides of her stomach. After years of trying and failing, their precious gift was finally in the back seat. Her and Derek’s beautiful baby girl—Astridea.

Evelyn tore her gaze away from the rear view mirror at the sound of a strange screeching. She watched in horror as a vehicle ran the red light and plowed into a semi truck. The semi started to jackknife, the trailer swinging at her car like a baseball bat.

“Evelyn? Evelyn!” Sandra shook her shoulder and knelt before her. “Evelyn, can you hear me?”

Evelyn blinked as the tears streamed down her face; hot, wet, silent tears. She nodded at Sandra as she tried to regain her composure. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

The nurse pulled a packet of tissues from her scrubs pocket and handed Evelyn one. “What happened? Where were you?”

With a shaking hand, Evelyn accepted the tissue and dabbed at her eyes. “I was remembering the wreck.”

“That’s when you lost your baby, right?”

After a moment’s hesitation, she nodded. “We were on the way to our first check up. She was only a few weeks old. We weren’t doing anything wrong. Our car was waiting at the light, like we were supposed to be.”

“You’re right, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry that you are the one who has suffered the most, but I promise you it isn’t because you deserved it.” Sandra patted her knee in a gentle gesture, but her face held fierce determination. “I know you hurt, but one thing you shouldn’t feel is guilt.”

The tears started again, trickling down Evelyn’s cheek in hot streaks. “If I didn’t do wrong, if I didn’t deserve it, then why did it happen?”

Sandra rocked back on her heels, her expression turning thoughtful. “When I was a little girl, I used to ask my ma something similar. I’d say, ‘Ma, if there is a god, why does he let bad things happen?’ You know what my ma used to say?” Evelyn shook her head and Sandra continued. “She would say, ‘Sandy, he can’t keep bad things from happening. Bad things are a part of life. All he can do is help make them happen during a time when we can deal with it best.’”

Evelyn tried to think back, to remember what all had been going on at the time. She didn’t remember much from the hospital or the wreck. The concussion she’d suffered gave her the relief and torment of an effective memory wipe. And Derek? Derek had left the day before on a training mission.

“Derek wasn’t there for me,” Evelyn whispered, tracing the indent on her finger from her wedding band. “He was gone. He’s always gone.”

“If I may.” Sandra tapped Evelyn’s knee. “I’ve spent some time working with Red Cross in the past. Because your husband was away, he had to be Red Crossed. That gave him emergency leave. If he’d been home, he would have needed to route a leave chit to take care of you when you were in a coma. What I’m trying to say is, because your husband wasn’t home, he was able to take care of you longer and better.”