Summer Job

True to her word, Casey teared up several times and just as he promised, Oliver had the box of Kleenex at the ready.

"Sorry. With the situation around here I'm just so emotional lately, and this movie really gets to me," she told him when the intermission came. She excused herself to use the bathroom so Oliver put the popcorn dish away then sat back down.

When Casey came back, for reasons he couldn't explain, he tapped the seat right next to him. She looked at him, then gave him a kind of funny look, but sat down so close to him their bodies were touching at the hips and shoulders.

Neither of them said a word or moved until Casey teared up again. After giving her a tissue, she quietly thanked him and turned his way to try and smile through the tears and Oliver instinctively put his arm around her not knowing how she might react.

She balled up the tissue then laid her head on his shoulder and again, not a word was said. At some point, Casey said, "If your arm is getting tired, you can move it."

It wasn't a hint or a suggestion, it was just a caring comment.

"I'm okay," he told her. "Did you want me to move it?"

Casey pulled her feet up onto the couch and snuggled up even closer as she rested her hand on chest.

"No. This is...nice."

Oliver occasionally ran his fingers along her shoulder or upper arm and Casey occasionally gently ran her fingers over his chest. There was no kissing, no hand holding, and nothing romantic was said. But it was definitely intimate, and as much as both of them were enjoying the closeness, each of them had serious pangs of guilt because Casey was a married woman. It didn't matter whether or not she was happily married. Married was married.

At the end of the movie, when Yury finally saw the love of his life after years of searching for her then quite literally dying of a heart attack as he tried to get to her as she rode by on a trolley car, Casey was crying outright.

"You okay?" Oliver asked.

"Oh, sure. I'm fine," she said in between dabbing her eyes and trying to carefully blow her nose without sounding like a fog horn.

"That was intense," he said as he finally raised his arm while the credits rolled.

She laid the tissue on the coffee table with the half dozen or so others then looked at Oliver and said, "Yes, it was."

Her eyes told him she meant the closeness they shared rather than the movie, but neither of them said so out loud. They both realized no words were necessary as this—whatever 'this' was—could go nowhere.

"Again, I'm really glad you stayed," she said as she walked him to the door.

"I'm glad you asked me," he told her.

Casey was looking right at him then suddenly looked down.

"You all right?" Oliver asked.

"Yes. I'm...fine," she told him, knowing she was anything but okay.

Her mind was flooded with emotions and feelings; feelings she shouldn't be having and yet they were right there—open and raw. She dared not even look back up at him for fear she might act on them.

"Well, goodnight," he told her.

"Goodnight, Oliver. And thank you for everything. The new drains, helping with dinner, spending some time with a lonely, old woman, and for keeping those tissues coming."

She smiled weakly but didn't look up.

When Oliver reached out and put his hands on her shoulders, 'fire' swept through her body. When he bent down to kiss her on the cheek, the flames exploded, and after he slowly pulled back, she raised her head and with unbridled hunger kissed him full on the mouth as her arms slid around his neck.

He kissed back for a second or two then gently pushed her away causing Casey to feel a kind of shame she hadn't felt in many years.

She recoiled and then, without looking at him said, "I...I'm so sorry, Oliver. That was inexcusable. I just..."

"It's okay," he told her. "I understand. More than I think you give me credit for."

She finally looked back up at him then said, "I give you a lot of credit for a lot of things, Oliver."

"Then you know I understand how you're feeling and why. And were you not married, I'd have never let the kiss end. But you are and I can't do that."

"I know. I'm...I'm so embarrassed. I...I'm not even sure what else to say. I've ruined an otherwise perfect evening."

He gently lifted her chin then said, "There's nothing else to be said. Unless, of course, you should find yourself single again. Should that happen, I hope you'll find the words to tell me because you are the most beautiful, amazing woman I've ever met, Casey."

Casey's eyes were filled with sadness as she told him, "That's the sweetest thing I've heard, Oliver, but we both know it's just you being the kind, gentle soul you are. I'm 40 and you're...still in college."

Casey shook her head and said, "I'm such a fool."

She kind of laughed then said, "And there's no fool like an old fool, right?"

Oliver not only didn't laugh, he put his hands on her shoulders again and waited for her to look at him.

"Casey, those weren't words of politeness. They were true words, and they were also heartfelt. And at the risk of saying things I shouldn't, I find myself attracted to you in a way I've never felt about any woman before. So, please. Stop talking about your age and realize how beautiful you are. You're smart, funny, pleasant, and yes, very beautiful, but not old. Okay?"

Her eyes were welling up with tears again as she watched him as he spoke.

"Oliver? Can you please go now? Please?"

He slowly lowered his hands, nodded once, then said, "I had an amazingly enjoyable time tonight, Casey."

"Me, too," she said barely above a whisper.

Oliver turned around and let himself out as a sense of confusion washed over him. He wasn't about to try and sort through it right then, but he understood the genesis of the feelings.

He'd gotten much too close to a very attractive married woman. He had no business putting his arm around her knowing how vulnerable she was, and yet with every fiber of his being he'd wanted to. The truth was, it wouldn't have been difficult to make the first move earlier that evening, and now, he felt sure she'd have responded favorably. Or would that be...unfavorably?

At any rate, he'd managed to walk away with his integrity still mostly intact. He nearly laughed when he wondered if his wings would still work having flown so close to the sun before putting his car in gear and driving away.

The laughing stopped as quickly as it began when he realized he had feelings for this beautiful, older...married...woman; feelings he had no business having. And yet he had them, and Oliver knew they weren't going away anytime soon. He also knew he would be unable to act on them, and that realization turned what may have been the best day of his life into one of the worst.

Home alone, Casey found it impossible to fall asleep. She laid down around 2:45am and three hours later she knew it was hopeless.

She started a pot of coffee then took a long, hot shower hoping to give her brain a respite from trying understand what had happened just hours ago and more importantly, what those experiences meant.

The answer was simple, but her brain was too tired to see it. Her marriage was over. Deep down, she'd known that for some time. But until last night, she'd had no reason to care or even act on it on that knowledge. Both she and her husband had been running on autopilot since the death of their child, each of them trying to find a way to make it through the next day. As a result, they'd grown apart, and Casey felt like she no longer even knew the man who occasionally still shared her bed but never her body.

And then there was Oliver, and what, if anything, she should do about him. To think she was 'in love' with a man...no, a boy...his age was absurd. This had to be a passing feeling brought on by too many years of being lonely and living alone. It was an infatuation with a much-younger, very handsome boy, that was true. And yet Oliver was more thoughtful, more mature, and more intelligent than most of the men her age she'd known over the years. Perhaps it was unfair to refer to him as a boy simply because of when he'd been born.

As she toweled herself dry, Casey pushed her thoughts aside and sat quietly enjoying a first cup of coffee. But by the time she'd poured herself a second cup, the obvious had become clear. The status quo was no longer acceptable. The situation was untenable and it was time to act. But what did that mean? Did she just ask her husband to leave? Could she really throw all those years away on a whim? Would it be 'on a whim'?

By the time she finished her second cup, she was even more confused than she'd been before her brief moment of clarity. It appeared she had two options and she felt she owed it to Jack to at least give the first option a try. If he would be willing to try, too, then perhaps it would be possible to get back to where they'd once been. Back before tragedy struck and their worlds were turned upside down.

After letting Casey know he'd be on the road an additional two days, Jack finally got home five days later.

While he was gone and after her evening with Oliver, Casey went out and had her hair cut, colored, and styled in Jack's favorite way. She bought a new dress to wear for him when he came home and a sexy new nightie—just in case.

She spent as much time as she could thinking about the things that made her fall in love with him and how life together was before their shared loss. It took some time to begin feeling the things she was thinking, but by the time he returned home, she felt like she could love him again if he was willing to do the same.

Casey knew he was coming in around 5pm and wanted to have his favorite dinner ready for him and made sure everything was set by the time the big rig pulled into their long driveway. She actually felt a twinge of romantic hope when she saw him walking toward the house, and went outside to meet him.

"Hi, honey!" she said cheerfully. "I'm so glad you're home! How was your trip?"

Jack didn't return her smile nor her enthusiasm.

She held out her arms to hug him, but he only pecked her on the cheek saying, "Same old. You know," before walking into the house leaving Casey to follow him in.

Hurt but not deterred, she asked if she could do anything for him or maybe get him something to drink.

So far, he'd ignored her new outfit, her new hairstyle, and said nothing about the wonderful smells coming from the kitchen.

"Um, sure. I'll take a beer," he told her as he dropped a bag near the laundry room.

Casey opened a cold bottle of Budweiser, his favorite, and took it to him.

"Here you go!" she said with a smile. "Are you hungry?"

He nodded but didn't thank her when she handed him the beer. He took a long pull then said, "What the hell's going on here? Did you have an affair or something you're trying to make up for?"

The hurt was deeper this time, but Casey knew she couldn't repair the years of distance and damage between them in one night, so she tried to smile as she replied.

"No. No affair. Just...missing you. That's all."

"Nice dress. How much did that set us back?" he quipped before taking another drink.

"I...I found it on sale," she said defensively. "Do you like it?"

Jack shrugged his shoulders and said, "It's okay. But you didn't need to get all dressed up. Nothin's changed since I left."

"Okay. I just thought it might be nice to let you know I...still love you and want to, you know, try and make things better between us."

Jack began peeling off the shirt he'd worn the last two days then, without looking at his wife, said, "It's a little late for that, don't you think?"

"No. No, I don't," Casey replied. "It's never too late to try, right?"

He tossed the shirt on the bed then began unbuckling his belt.

"Maybe you should have tried a little harder four years ago."

The implication was clear. He still blamed her for letting Renee drive their daughter. In other words, had she tried a little harder to protect Amanda, she'd still be alive.

This comment cut her to her core and sliced through the weak defenses she'd tried to shore up in anticipation of saving her marriage. His words were like a wrecking ball that crashed through every defensive barrier she'd put up, shattering them and her self confidence in one fell swoop.

She wanted to cry. She also wanted to scream. But she just stood there unable to speak or even move as her husband kicked off his pants and left them on the floor.

"I'm gonna take shower," he said before disappearing into their very large master bathroom.

Casey removed the earrings and necklace she was wearing and placed them back in her jewelry box before also taking off the dress and heels and replacing them with jeans and a tee-shirt. She was too mentally exhausted to remove the makeup she'd put on for him, and once she was changed, she went to the kitchen not knowing why or what to do next.

She stood there at the very large granite island looking around at all the beautiful things surrounding her as she realized how little they meant when all she wanted was to be loved again.

She knew this was a risk, but she couldn't have imagined things going this wrong this fast. Her hope was that Jack would at least see her as trying and maybe, just maybe...desirable. She had no expectations of healing all the old wounds. She just thought this would be a real first step toward getting back to where they'd been or perhaps to some new, acceptable place; a place where they could possibly start over.

Casey wasn't sure how long she'd been standing there looking through the large bay windows of their breakfast nook before Jack came back holding an empty beer bottle.

"I could go for another one," he said as he dropped into the recycle bin.

"There's a twelve pack in the fridge," Casey said without malice or emotion.

"Oh. Okay. I guess we're back to normal around here, then, huh?" he said sarcastically as he went to grab another longneck bottle and made a point of her change of clothes.

He unscrewed the cap, chugged hard, then belched before looking at the table.

"What's all this?" he asked as he finally noticed the candles, then linen napkins, and the formal china sitting out.

"A waste of time," Casey said quietly, again with no anger or even emotion. She was just stating a fact.

Jack set his beer down, grabbed a regular plate out of the cupboard, then speared a pork chop with a fork he pulled out of the drawer. He used the large spoon in the bowl of mashed potatoes on the table to scoop out enough to fill most of the rest of the plate then smothered them in gravy.

He grabbed his beer then told Casey, "The Mariners are on. I'm goin' into the living room to watch the game."

That night Casey looked at the pretty red nightie still in the Victoria Secret bag knowing it would never be worn and fought back tears. Not tears of anger. These were tears of acceptance and resignation. Jack had fallen asleep within minutes of laying down a little after ten o'clock, the six beers he drank having done the trick.

He was still a reasonably good looking man for his age, but the thought of even kissing him now seemed revolting. Casey knew it was all a matter of perception, and had he been receptive to her attempts to rekindle the flame, she'd have gladly given herself to him fully and completely. But after what he'd said, even letting him touch her was out of the question, let alone make love to her.

She quietly picked up her pillow and went to the guest bedroom where she laid down and just as she'd done after Oliver left, found herself staring at the ceiling fan as it slowly and silently turned round and round above her.

She'd barely so much as thought about Oliver the last three days, and until just then, not at all that entire day. Even as she lay there in the dark silence of her room, she had no reason to think anything could ever come from a relationship with someone like him or that she'd ever even have a relationship.

No, the reality of the situation was she would soon find herself living alone, going through a divorce, and at some point, starting the painful process of trying to meet a good, decent man with whom she could spend the rest of her life. And were she to win the lottery, it was still possible to have another child—something Casey realized she dearly wanted. The odds were slim, but it could still happen.

Casey wasn't a needy woman, but she wasn't cut out to spend her life alone. She loved being married, at least when things were the way they used to be, and the thought of never again experiencing that was too much to even contemplate. But she had no illusions about how hard it would be to find the kind of man she wanted. Although she was as sad and lonely as she could ever remember (outside of losing Amanda and Renee, of course) she managed to smile when the old saying came to mind: 'sometimes you gotta kiss a few frogs to find your prince'.

She smile faded immediately as Casey tried to mentally prepare for what she knew was coming, and for some reason, her first thought was how she hoped Jack wouldn't hate her for leaving him.

She waited for her husband to get up, shower again, and have breakfast before finally saying those infamous words, "Jack? We need to talk."

He surprised her by replying, "Yes. Yes, we do."

"I didn't realize you felt the same way," Casey said with surprise.

Jack glanced over at her then said with sarcasm dripping from his voice, "Unless you're talking about throwing away an extra THOUSAND goddamn dollars on a two-thousand dollar job, I have no idea what you're talking about."

On the verge of finally getting angry, Casey said, "That was my money, Jack. Money I set aside. Money you said was mine to with as I pleased. So you only paid two-thousand dollars, okay?"

He'd obviously seen the cancelled check in their online banking app, but Casey didn't care anymore. She hadn't done anything wrong, and she wasn't about to apologize for his being a cheap bastard!

She sat down across from him, waited for him to look at her then said very calmly but coldly, "I was dreading having this talk, but after the way you treated me last night and what you just said, I'm no longer dreading it."

Jack set his coffee cup down, folded his arms, and said, "So...talk."

Casey took a deep breath and began by explaining what she'd hoped to do last night then tried to hit each of the main points she'd mentally rehearsed several times. She once again accepted full responsibility for letting Renee drive that fateful day, but also let him know she was through being beat up with it for over four long years.

"I've been a good wife, Jack. I've been faithful and done everything a wife and mother is supposed to do. Yes, I made a mistake. A terrible, costly mistake I live with every day, but it was a mistake. I loved Amanda—and Renee—with all my heart, and I would never have done anything to harm them. But you just can't let it go, and I can't live with a man who sees me as some kind of...monster."

Somehow Casey had managed to get it all out without crying or even getting angry. She now sat there waiting for her husband to speak.

He unfolded his arms and tilted his head slightly.

"You're not a monster, Casey, and I don't hate you. I just can't forgive you. Every time I look at you I see you sending our daughter off to die. I've tried to forget but that's impossible so I focused on forgiveness, but I...I can't, Case. I just can't. I'm still angry and I probably always will be, but I could never hate you."

"Then why are we still living together?" she asked finally getting the most important question on the table.

Jack sighed deeply then said, "Because I'm not a monster, either. I've been a bastard treating you like this, but I'm not a monster. I couldn't bear to think of leaving you after losing Amanda."