Ingrams & Assoc 3: American Life 04

"I honestly thought that because I was making mine happen, he'd understand. I knew he'd be hurt, but it would be over quickly and eventually he'd understand. It was business – the business of getting what you want. I thought we both understood that what we'd said we wanted was what we really wanted. That if his dream came up, he'd have grabbed it too. I would have understood."

Tara realized she was babbling and also had no idea why she felt the need to say this to April. April just sat there, wondering how far she needed to go with Tara. Tara needed help and she could give it. The trouble was, she didn't want to. She was spitting mad and ready to rip her limb from limb if she had to. But the professional won out.

"No, you wouldn't have, Tara. You think you would but you'd disconnected ambition and desire from reality and emotional content. You say you would because that's the reaction you expected – needed - from Joe. It's what you needed to believe to be able to follow through on the betrayal and abandonment of Joe that you did end up doing. You wouldn't have understood it if he'd done it to you, and what's more, you knew deep down he'd never do that to do you. That's why it's easy to say 'I would have understood' and to even buy into the lie, because it was never going to happen. And you know it, on some subconscious level.

"The bottom line here is that you measured what you had with Joe against the ambition you had, and the paths you saw to get there, and it just didn't measure up. This wasn't one of those 'what he doesn't know won't hurt him' justifications. There was no other ending to this than what you did. It was cold and calculated and inevitable. There's nothing else to really say. What it says about you, well, I've said my piece on that. I suspect you've been coming to your own realizations about that recently. The fact is, you are who you are and nothing would have saved your marriage to Joe. You killed it way too efficiently."

Tara broken down sobbing again, and managed to get out between sobs, "I really did love him. I did. I let him go because I thought it was best. Neither of us was going to get what we wanted together."

"Tara, did it ever occur to you that what he wanted was just you? The dreams you talked of were additions to the relationship you had. They weren't 'instead of', at least not for him. He already had what he wanted. It's just you that's the greedy bitch."

And with that, April got up, grabbed her bag and went to leave, watching Tara heave silently in her chair. She stopped at the door of the conference room and said, "Nice blouse by the way."

*****

My new therapist, Marianne Thomas, has told me to keep a journal. She says it's therapeutic. I don't know about that, but right now I'm such a mess that I'll take anything that helps.

So I guess I should give it some background. I'm Julian Sullivan. Joe to my friends. I was called Jules at school, but honestly couldn't wait to leave that behind. I was in the army, in the original Desert Storm. I got invalided out due to an injury. I was lucky to get away with that, originally my CO wanted to bounce me out on a dishonorable discharge, because of 'desertion of post'.

He just couldn't get it into his head that I left my post so I could arm the nurses and doctors in the hospital we were defending, because it was increasingly likely we were going to be overrun, and I wanted to give them a chance. The local warlord out there was not going to give them one. Educated women? Yeah, first up against the wall. Hell, I only got wounded because I went out after the first sortie and gathered up AK47's and pistols from the enemy dead, in order to arm those inside.

Whatever. The past. Not worth getting upset about now. I have way more things to be upset about.

I'm 32 years old. I still hold over some of my army habits – I run, I swim, I work out and try and keep trim. I'm up early and I am responsible.

Up till two weeks ago, I was a rising star at Mercanos, having worked there for the past 5 years. Mercanos is a local conglomerate that designs and manufactures Doctors offices. I was part of the design team there. I met my wife – or now soon to be ex-wife – at Mercanos. She was part of the design group management. And she was mine from the moment I saw her.

I don't know what it was, but it was love at first sight. Or lust, anyway.

Tara Beran was tall, beautiful, long lush brown chestnut hair, pale, blue eyed, sexy, awesome, efficient, clever, smart and lithe. She had smallish breasts, but she knew all about those push up bra, oh yes she did. Always in a tight skirt, pantyhose (although I found out later, almost always holdups. She constantly complained about how pantyhose made her crotch itch. TMI but nice that she wore stockings. I took advantage of that over the years. As, I now know, did others.)

She'd been at Mercanos for 18 months when we met, and already I could see the signs of frustration, of her wanting more from the job and encountering the glass ceiling. She loved what she did but was pissed off with those above her.

But it was ok. We'd sit in the bar on a Friday and moan about those in our way and bond. And it was great. She was flirty, but in a very restrained way. You'd have to really understand her and look at what she said in a deep way to really get the humor. And I did. Sometimes she'd say something in a meeting and everyone else would miss it, but I wouldn't. And she'd deliberately not look at me because she knew if she did, one of us – or both of us – would start cracking up.

It didn't take long before we were in bed and the sex, oh the sex. It was great. Traditional, but great. Vanilla, but some how that didn't matter. She didn't take it up the ass, she didn't swallow, but we did a lot of everything else. Even know, with everything that has happened, I still remember the sex.

It took 9 months before we decided to tie the knot, 3 months after moving in. It moved fast, but that's the way we were. Saw what we wanted, made a decision, move on it. It was bliss. I was so into her and couldn't quite believe she was into me. We were going to conquer the world.

And for 4 years, we did. It was great. And then the end came.

I was completely oblivious. I didn't see it coming. I had no idea. I was just working and loving life. I didn't see anything obvious. No drop off in sex. No late nights on her part. No real huge changes. Maybe they were there, but I just didn't see them. I can second-guess myself forever, but whatever; I didn't see it coming. It totally blindsided me.

One Friday night she just didn't come home. I called her cell – she had one of the first ones, those big Motorola things. No answer. She didn't show up the whole weekend and I was frantic. Called the cops and everything.

Sunday night, she just waltzes in, like nothing is wrong and says those words that no man wants to hear, 'We have to talk.'

She told me where she was. Our boss's house – Peter Western. 'Test driving living with him.' They'd been at it for the past 3 months. She'd decided that the glass ceiling was not going to be broken any other way, so she was sleeping with him and intending to pursue a relationship with him. She loved me and didn't think it was fair to me, so she was going to divorce me. She loves me, but I'm not going to get her where she wants to be, and he can, and he's got a big dick too. Surely I can see her position?

I don't even know where to begin. I was just in shock. I had no idea her mental processes were that hard. I had no idea she was even capable of this. Obviously I didn't know her at all. Maybe that's my fault. Maybe it's hers, for hiding her career needs so well. We used to sit there and make fun of him, together. And now she's sleeping with him. And making it clear she intends to marry him. But she's going to rape our savings first. She's 'entitled', apparently.

I just didn't even know how to respond. Well, I did, but no one was getting smacked that day. I mean, I couldn't even ask why. She'd told me. I just couldn't do for her what this other guy could, and out of loyalty to me, she was ending it. I did point out that she'd already admitted that she had been sleeping with him for months – loyalty my ass. She just wanted to actually marry the fuck and I was in the way.

Marianne says I should express my feelings here. Well, I was surprised, upset, bewildered, numb, angry, scared, and apoplectic, all at the same time. She never said anything. There was no hint. It just came out of the blue.

When I got to work on Monday, I found the asshole boss waiting at my desk, concerned that 'I might be taking this all wrong and make this an unpleasant work place.' Fucking right I was. 'How, exactly, was I supposed to take this?' It was obvious he just wanted me to shut up and not cause waves. We'll fuck that. I did wonder if he understood the mercenary reasons she was wanting to be with him, but hell, why the fuck should I clue him in? Let him find out the hard way. Cunt.

Obviously I went to HR and his boss. And they didn't give a shit. There was no morality clause in place. It took 3 days but eventually they got back to me that it sucked, but they neither had a no staff fraternization policy in place, nor did they have a morality clause, so they were just going to stay out of this. Sorry, but tough shit. Basically, some one looked at who they needed more – one designer or a design group manager and her VP boss, and made a business decision to just ignore it.

Oh they were sorry, and it sucked, and between you and me, he's a scumbag for stealing my wife, but hey, that's life in the big city. Sorry.

Over those three days, I had several people come up and say 'Sorry'. They all had wanted to say something to me – which meant they all knew about it before I did; apparently this was all being done on work time and I just hadn't seen it because I'd been heads down in the design lab, actually doing my job – and no fucker had said a word to me. No one. The guys that I worked with, they just all avoided my gaze. They knew and no one said a thing.

When HR said they wouldn't do anything, I quit on the spot. Obviously I can't continue working there. Tara came by as I was packing up and told me I was being dumb, and just reacting instead of thinking it through. There was plenty of room at Mercanos for both of us. She was sorry, but it was happening and I should make the best of it. She actually had the gall to ask if I knew how she was feeling, the choice she had to make, how hard it had been to make it. Either way, someone loses. I tried to point out that _she_ put herself in that position, and if she hadn't gone and seduced the boss to get a leg up, she wouldn't have to make that choice, and _I_ wouldn't be the one paying for it, but I think that logic was a bit too much for her. For her to admit that, she'd have to admit she was a scheming bitch who just dropped me like a hot potato so she could get the next job up

She has no fucking idea what I was feeling or why. Not a clue. I still can't get over how I never saw this side to her. I'm an asshole, obviously. I guess love really is blind. I had no idea. Not a clue. No inkling.

I told her she was a dumb cunt and I wanted nothing to do with her or that assfuck boyfriend of hers. I said some things about watching their backs – I wouldn't have done anything; I've seen enough death and violence in my life but it was all I had left. Shit them up a bit. It got me a visit from the cops the next day but it's their word against mine. Fuck them.

I spent a long weekend with Manny in Wisconsin, pretty much drunk the whole time, and he recommended I see a therapist. So, when I got back, I did. And she said this was a first start to recovering my 'poise'. What a phrase. 'Poise'. I didn't know anyone still had that. I thought that went out in the 1950's.

So here I am, writing in here, trying to describe the unbelievable betrayal I feel at my wife, who chose career over love. Or was it even love? I mean, how can it be if she just abandons it like that? Either she can turn off her emotions, or she's a cold bitch. Or both. Probably both.

*****

The funeral was a damp day in the fall. It had rained that morning, and the grass was still wet. It was overcast and the clouds looked threatening – low in the sky and dark and heavy with the promise of more rain. But it held off and for that April was grateful.

She had arrived early at Arlington National Cemetery. Julian Sullivan had been a veteran and she'd spent a day on the phone with various government agencies ensuring that he would be buried there. She had no clue where else he should be buried if they'd said no, so she'd simply not accepted their initial refusals. She had Max with her, on a new leash. He kept wanting to get up and wander and she had to jerk the leash a few times to get him to understand that no, this was not play time.

She'd sent out a few emails letting people know when the funeral was, but didn't expect anyone else but her and the priest she'd hired.

She was surprised when a black limousine had rolled up and disgorged a black clad Tara Western, née Sullivan, carrying a red rose. She'd studiously avoided looking at her. Then another car arrived, and out stepped Penny Glasso with her son, Aaron. That was another surprise. No Mark. Just as well.

Dermot arrived, escorting both Jessica Ingrams herself, and Desirea. Desirea had given her a peck on the cheek and whispered, "Megan wanted to be here, but she's still in the field. She's thinking of you and will see you when she gets back."

After that, a cadre of nuns arrived, plus several down-on-their-luck women. One of the nuns April recognized as the nun that she'd talked to at the homeless shelter.

They were followed by a sprinkling of people arriving in cars with West Virginia plates; April could only surmise these were people from where Joe had been living, in Charles Town.

Sarah Atwood showed up, along with several other older women, each helping each other along. 'The Joe Sullivan for Sainthood brigade,' April mentally dubbed them.

Marianne Dubowski turned up, looking dapper. April noticed her nodding at Jessica Ingrams, who nodded back. She filed that piece of information away for investigation later. No wonder Marianne had pegged her - she knew Jessica.

A van arrived and twenty-odd men tumbled out. All older, all grizzled and some obviously damaged. There was missing legs and one missing arm. April was worried – she'd only ordered twenty chairs because she'd been convinced she'd be there alone. As it was now, there was standing room only.

Then Ambrose Hillier arrived, looking more presentable than she'd seen him before.

And then, to her surprise, a short man with curly hair and a fedora hat she'd never met before came up to her and said, 'Hi. I'm Manny Trueso. You don't know me, but I know you. I know what you did – he told me." Trueso indicated Hillier who just smiled in an embarrassed way. "I need to say thank you. You got him justice for those bitches." He nodded at the two women, who were doing the best job they could of not knowing each other existed, when sitting next to each other. "Do you mind if I sit here?" he asked, gesturing at the chair next to her. She just nodded at him and as he sat down, he said, "we can talk later. There are stories about Julian you need to hear."

The hearse arrived, from the Slow Trail Funeral Home. She'd taken care of that as well, paying for the funeral expenses. She'd figured it was the least she could do.

The men who had stumbled out of the van walked up to the hearse and politely but firmly explained to the men from the funeral home that they would be handling the pall bearing duties.

At the same time the hearse arrived, to her total amazement, so did a squad of marines, complete with weapons. The lead sergeant nodded at Manny and the squad took up a formation.

Manny leaned in and said quietly, "The military remembers its own. That sergeant there is alive because of Joe. He's one of the Cambridge crew. I'll explain later."

The funeral went of slowly and quietly, until the 21-gun salute from the Marines. They had draped the coffin in a flag, folded it up and then presented it to Aaron, who took it in tears.

Max kept straining at the leash and whining. Eventually he got free and rushed the table where the coffin was placed while the funeral was underway, and plopped himself down underneath it. He knew where his master was, and he just wanted to be with him, as loyal dogs do. It broke every heart present. April didn't have the heart to call him back.

When the funeral was done, April had Ambrose speak and announce there would be a gathering at a local Irish pub that was very close to Arlington. April didn't trust herself to speak. She was still too angry with almost everyone. Most of the people who had shown up to pay their last respects to Joe in death, well that respect had been noticeably absent for him in life.

At the gathering at the pub, April grabbed Ambrose and took him over to where Tara was sampling the wine and not enjoying it very much, and not being very discreet about it.

Max was sitting at the bar and some of the funeral goers were having fun dropping a little beer in the water dish on the floor for him. He kept looking from person to person, and it was obvious who he was looking for.

"Ambrose, I'm not sure if you met Tara or not? She was Joe's first wife. She has something she wanted to say to you."

Hillier looked at Tara dubiously. She was tall and had a face that tended to look down on people. Right now though, she was desperately trying to be herself. She looked around for a place to set the wine down, and settled on mantelpiece.

"Yes, um. April has explained to me all that you did for Julian. How you wouldn't let it go. How you found his hideaway and how you got the Marines to show up at this funeral. I wanted you to know that Julian would have liked you. He liked tenacious people. I wish you could have known him. He was the best man I ever met."

She sniffled and wiped her nose with the napkin from her drink. "I was such a moron. So consumed with work and with career. Never seeing what I had right in front of me." She sighed and shook her head, obviously still ashamed. "Anyway, I wanted to ask you if...perhaps, you might consent to dinner? My understanding is that you've had similar experiences?"

Hillier looked at April, who smiled back. The smiled wilted a bit and became a bit forced as he just stared at her.

"So, this is THE Tara, yes? The one that fucked up our boy?"

Tara immediately sniffed again and turned away, muttering, "I told you this was a bad idea."

She turned back and said, "I just thought...Look, yes, I was an asshole. I learned. You obviously haven't. Never mind. I had thought....never mind. Forget it."

And she went to walk away, before April said sharply, "Stop right there, Tara."

Tara stiffened and stopped, but didn't turn around.

"And you, asswipe. Hillier. You such a fucking catch that you can afford to be rude to someone who took a chance? What a dick. No wonder your relationships haven't been covered in glory. Look at you. You look like a bum and you behave worse. What the fuck have you got to loose? Look at her. She's beautiful. She's successful. And she's learned a few damn hard lessons. Think you have nothing to learn? Jesus Christ, what does it take for you to wake up and understand that everyone has to take a chance sometime? The pair of you disgust me because you are too stupid to live. I'm going to get a drink."

April stalked off without looking back, doing her best to keep the smug expression off her face.