CHAPTER 6

Bob still wasn't home when Peggy arrived, and for that she was actually grateful. She felt strangely disassociated from her body as she pulled off her soiled and torn jacket, skirt, blouse, stockings. She stepped into the shower and ran the water as hot as she could stand. Then she scrubbed her body obsessively, almost violently, until her skin felt raw. On automatic pilot she dried herself off and crawled into her bulkiest, least sexy nightgown. She picked up her clothes where she'd dropped them on the bathroom floor, carried them to the kitchen and stuffed them into the bottom of the trash container under the sink. Finally, she climbed onto her side of their double bed and sat, with her knees drawn up under her chin and her back against the headboard, staring at nothing.

She had no idea how long she stayed there before the familiar sight of the truck's headlights flashed through the bedroom window. This time she didn't rouse herself to go out to him to help him into the house. As it turned out, she didn't need to. When Bob came in, his footsteps were firm and steady. She glanced up when he appeared in the bedroom doorway. He looked … sober. She saw his expression change as he got a good look at her, radiating love and deep concern.

He crossed to her, knelt beside the bed and looked up into her tear-stained face. "Aw, Peg," he said, a world of regret embedded in those two words. "I'm so, so sorry, honey." For a panicky moment she feared Moon had sought him out and told him about Colin despite his promise. But as Bob continued, she began to understand he was talking about something else. "God, I should have called. You must have been so worried."

"Where have you been?" she managed to ask.

He got up from his knees and sat beside her on the edge of the bed, taking both her hands in his own. "Well, after I left here, the first place I went was to the liquor store. Big surprise, huh?" His smile was wry and humorless. Peggy said nothing.

"I sat in the parking lot, watching people go in, and people come out. I was about to go in myself when I saw a car pull up beside me. There was a lady behind the wheel. I could tell she was young, but she looked … well, old before her time, I guess you'd say. She looked so tired, and so hopeless. I watched her go into the liquor store, and a few minutes later she came out. A man was with her – her husband, obviously. He was leaning on her, stumbling. I could tell he was angry. Even with the truck windows up, I could hear him swearing as they made their way across the parking lot toward me. The young woman was crying and trying hard not to. I almost got out of the truck to help her as they reached the car, but then she looked straight at me. The look on her face, Peg …" He trailed off and looked down. "I couldn't face it. So I pretended to be looking for something in the glove compartment, and when I looked up again, she had muscled him into the car and was driving away.

"I was so ashamed, Peg. That I didn't man up and help her, but even more because when I looked into her eyes, I saw you, sweetheart. It brought back every time it was me staggering out of some bar, stinking drunk, and you trying to hold me up. You crying as you tried to get me to bed without Michael and Robin knowing what was going on." Peggy felt her husband's fingers curl more firmly around hers.

"And-and I realized, Peggy, that I was throwing away everything we've worked so hard for. Hell, I was dishonoring the memory of Davey by negating everything he'd done to help me. Most of all I realized that more than anything I wanted to keep building the life we've started to create over the past few years."

Peggy nodded and turned her hand under his, threading their fingers together. "So what did you do?"

"I drove to Seattle and found a meeting. Afterwards, I stayed for another meeting. And then I went out for coffee with one of the guys and we talked. I guess I lost track of time, because all of a sudden it was almost midnight and I had an hour's drive ahead of me. I was going to call, but I thought – I hoped – you'd be asleep." He stopped suddenly and shook his head.

"No, that's not true," he admitted. "I guess the real reason I didn't call was because I was afraid to. Afraid to hear your sad voice on the other end of the line … but more afraid that the phone would just keep ringing and ringing and I'd know that you'd finally had enough and left. I knew I had to talk to you in person, Peg. It's about time I did my eight, right?"

Peggy instantly recognized the reference to one of the key principles of AA: "Step 8: Make a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all."

"I know nothing I can do can really make amends for everything I've put you and our family through," Bob said now, a slight tremor in his voice. "But I'm determined to do the best I can to make the rest of our lives together as good as they can be." He looked at her with that lost puppy expression she knew so well. "If you'll let me."

In response, Peggy withdrew her hands from his. Then she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and laid her cheek on his chest. "I don't want to live without you, Bob Beldon," she murmured against the soft flannel of his shirt. "I don't think I could."

"I love you so much, Peg." His own strong arms surrounded her, and they cried together for a long time.