The Great Escape

Cora was past tears, close to giving up. She finally went to her little cabin, hoping for some sleep.

The next morning, Cora was knocking on the Ruxters' door pretty early. Annie answered and invited her in for coffee and talk. But first, tears again. Cora had thought she was past tears, but, looking at Annie, seeing her sympathy and care, Cora broke down again. Annie hugged her 'til the tears stopped and then sat her down at the Ruxters' kitchen table. While Annie was getting coffee for them, Cora was looking out the window, at the beautiful Gulf of Mexico view. She almost broke down again, wondering if she could ever be happy again, wondering why she had destroyed her life, and Tim's as well.

"Here you go, honey, fresh coffee and even a donut from Mae's Donut Shop. You know they're the only donuts in Florida worth all the calories." Cora smiled and reached across the table to grip Annie's hand.

"Annie, I think I'm giving up. He won't talk to me; he barely looks at me. His rehab is really done; I've been stretching it out just to have a reason to stay with him. I don't know what to do anymore.

"You know, last night, when I couldn't sleep, I tried to think about this like a lawyer. I mean, Tim's a lawyer, a really good one I think, and he must be doing some kind of lawyer analysis about what I did, and what makes sense for him now. And I think he should be really mad and yell at me and do stuff like making me jump in the water naked, like he did back on the Waterway near Fort Lauderdale. But at some point, I mean we have so many years invested in each other and in our girls, at some point, he needs to... he needs to do something, something to start getting us back together. He needs to talk to me, get us couples counseling so he can yell at me some more, beat me with a... a stick." Cora stopped. She didn't want a beating, and she knew Tim wasn't going to beat her. He was going to leave her. She started crying again. Annie held on to her hand.

"Cora, honey, I think Tim's not doing lawyer stuff on what you did. He's a man, he's not being logical or lawyerly or rational or any of that right brain kind of stuff. He's feeling. And I'm afraid you have put him in a pretty bad place.

"Let me tell you a story, about when I was a little girl. I had a pet raccoon. He got left behind by his mama or somehow got lost, and I found him, a really little guy, and I fed him and took care of him, and he grew up in a cage my daddy built behind our house. One day, after school, I was sitting in his cage with him, eating a Hostess Twinkie. God, I loved those things. Anyway, he reached up with his little hand and tried to grab my Twinkie. I slapped him, knocked him back across the cage. Of course, I was sorry, and then I tried to give him a bite of my Twinkie. But he stayed across the cage from me. And from then on, whenever I would try to get close to him, he would run to the other side of the cage.

"Cora, I cried when I did it, but I finally opened his cage door one night after supper, just as it was getting dark. Raccoons like the dark more than the light, I think. And the next morning he was gone. I never saw him again. Cora, I hurt his feelings pretty bad, and I had to set him free." Cora was crying again. Of course, Annie's story reminded her of an old movie, with the line, "If you love something, set it free." And she knew what she had to do.

That evening, Cora fixed dinner for her and Tim, and then asked if she could talk with him. With an exasperated look, he nodded.

"Tim, first of all, I think your rehab is really over. You're running and exercising again, your blood pressure and heart rate are both great, your color is good. You have another doctor's appointment in about a month, but I think that's pretty much a formality.

"Second, I want to say, one more time, how sorry I am that I cheated on you, on our marriage. I will regret it for the rest of my life. And yes, I'm going to start counselling, to try to figure out why I fucked up so incredibly badly, and maybe figure out ways to keep that from ever happening again. And... um... well, the counseling will be in Albany. I'm flying home tomorrow. Annie is going to drive me up to Miami airport so I will be leaving here early tomorrow morning." She stopped. She looked at Tim, with what she hoped was a neutral face, but with still a glimmer, a fading glimmer, of hope as she watched his reaction.

"Cora, you know, I think that's best. I appreciate your being here to help me with rehab, and I really have tried to figure out a way to start getting past what you did. But, Jesus, Cora, five months! That's just not the woman I thought I married."

"Tim, thank you. I mean, thank you for saying you were trying. I.... Uh, can I ask one last favor before I leave?"

"What, Cora?"

"Can we sleep together tonight? Just to hold each other, I mean. Just this one more time?"

"Sure. Let me check the moorings and I'll meet you in the main cabin." Cora brushed her teeth, slipped out of her clothes and into her typical sleep wear: t-shirt and panties, and was in Tim's bed, under the cover, when he returned.

"Cora, I...."

"Tim, just... just hush. Just get into bed and let me hold you and let's go to sleep." He did get into bed, she did hold him, and they did go to sleep, but that was a long time coming. Both of them thinking: almost 40 years together, and now that was ending.

The next morning, when Tim awoke, Cora was already up, her carry-on packed. She was standing in the galley, drinking a cup of coffee, thinking about the night before. She had awoken in the middle of the night, to go to the head. When she crawled back into bed, Tim was lying on his back and she was tempted, really, really tempted, to pull the covers back and see what might develop. She remembered the sex they had after she had jumped naked into the water up near Ft. Lauderdale. But she knew that had been just sex. If they were to have sex now, it would have to be making love. She knew that was not fair to either of them, and she turned away, curled up on her side, and eventually fell asleep again.

"Cora, I guess this is good-bye." She jumped a little; she hadn't heard Tim walk up behind her. She turned to look at him, in his running shorts and shirt, ready to go for his run after she left. The perfect metaphor, she thought, for him going on with a life without her.

"One last hug?" she asked.

"Of course, and I want you to know I'm sorry also, that we've come to this."

"Thank you, Tim, I appreciate that. I know this is all on me, and...."

"Stop, let's not rehash now, okay? I do want to leave you with a thought. I'm trying very hard to see you as an angel." Cora's eyes almost popped out of her head. What? What was he saying?

"You appeared on my boat, truly out of the blue, just in time to save me when I had a heart attack. If you had not appeared, I would have died. And then you supervised my recovery so I'm basically as good as new. That sounds like an angel to me." Cora looked at him, wondering when she would see him again. At a daughter's wedding? In divorce court?

"Tim, you're a sweet man. I will always love you, and miss you." She turned away, toward Annie's car, crying again. Never really past the tears, she thought, as she and Annie drove away.

Tim watched them drive away, dry eyed. He started his morning run, thinking he would never understand what had caused Cora's cheating. He would continue to miss the Cora he thought he had known, but not the cheating Cora she actually was. And, he told himself, he was living in a beautiful place, on a beautiful boat. He had his health back; he could sail for Key West tomorrow. Life was open for him.

When he finished his run, he did his stretches and reboarded The Great Escape for some breakfast. As he walked though the lounge, he saw his cellphone message light was blinking. He pushed the buttons and listened to his message.

"Uhh, Tim, I hope you're doing okay. This is Lucinda Otter. Umm, I'm calling to, uh, see how you're doing and, uhh, to, uhh, give you some news. I'm not sure if it's good news or bad news. If you have a minute, would you call me? I, um, I miss you. This is Lucinda. Bye."

End.

I know, I know: it's not the kind of end LW readers demand. But it's the end of this story. I could add an epilogue, but that's not real life. In real life, your life has lots of stories, and in Tim Peterson's life, this story has ended.

I look forward to the comments LW readers love to leave: the helpful ones, the (frankly) stupid ones, almost all of them entertaining. Thank you for reading. Tanglosax