Chapter 11- The Illusion of Perfection
He wasn't salivating, but his mud green eyes were as smoldering as the heat.
Marcia had removed her navy blue suit jacket. Her bare arms, neck, and hint of cleavage were left exposed by her camisole-styled blouse.
She brushed a stray hair from her face as she continued focusing on the casebook in front of her.
He swallowed hard. It was now or never.
"Marcia." He whispered.
She looked up from her book. "Yes?" She answered her eyes looking deeply into his. Her eyes were like pools of light in which he felt himself drowning.
The air was thick with sexual tension. Both of them knew it. He gently cupped her face.
"What are you doing?" She asked even as she clearly knew his intentions.
"This." Was his simple reply before he leaned over and kissed her tenderly on the lips. But there was something more to that kiss. It was hungry; desperate, maybe, with an undercurrent of unleashed passion percolating to the surface.
Finally, their lips parted. She seemed breathless as a new trail of sweat journeyed from her neck towards her breasts.
"Garrett."
Her voice tickled his insides.
"Garrett!"
The spell was broken. And so ended was a daydream of desire.
Garrett was jolted back to reality.
"Marcia?"
"Yes?"
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course."
"How come you never got married?"
"I was married." She said softly, a trace of sadness in her voice.
Garrett remembered. The memory, the unfolding of the truth began eating away at him like some vengeful parasite. Marcia was married...she was married to...Oh God! What had Dad just said? That he was married to Marcia...that Marcia was his...his wife?"
Oh God!
Garrett recalled how guilty he felt having impure thoughts about Marcia. She was his boss and his friend. She was a caring and intelligent woman whose passion for her work had made an incredible difference in so many lives. He was attracted to her mind. That was what he tried telling himself even as he battled the desires that he felt for her, desire that admittedly had little to do with her intellect. He had gone to confession and prayed that he could be forgiven of this sin. But now it was even worse than he could have possibly imagined. Marcia had been Dad's wife. He had had thoughts like this about a woman who had been married to his father, which meant that she and Dad must have...Oh God! Garrett fought back a powerful wave of nausea that crashed against his insides like a tsunami. He felt as if he were going to be sick.
"Garrett? Son, are you okay?" Gary asked concerned when he saw the expression on Garrett's face.
Garrett nodded, but the gesture was hardly reassuring.
A brief silence.
"You...you and Marcia...she was...your wife?"
"Yes." Gary whispered.
Another brief, yet agonizing silence.
"No." Garrett finally said.
"No?"
"No. No, you couldn't have been married to Marcia. You're Catholic. And all those times, all those times in church when Father Donnelly talked about divorce being a sin, about marriage being a sacred bond and you never said anything? All these years and you never said anything? No, you wouldn't have done that. You wouldn't have lied to me like that."
It was a moment that many parents dread but perhaps expect- the moment that they fall off of the pedestal that their children place them upon. For a child, there's an unspoken expectation of perfection that they assign to a parent. It's an unfair expectation, really, but something that provides comfort and security in a crazy and insecure world. But when this "illusion of perfection" is shattered, the child is left with the truth- His parent is human.
Gary gazed into his son's eyes and instead of seeing the very tall, self- assured young adult, he saw his little boy. Gary saw the little boy who was afraid of the dark. Gary saw the little boy who was afraid of thunderstorms because he believed that the roaring meant that he had done something to make God angry with him. Gary saw the little boy that he had taught how to ride a bike:
"You can do it, Garrett. Just hold on to the handles and pedal. I've got you. That's it, son. You're doing great. Daddy won't let you fall. I've got you."
And he never let Garrett fall. Garrett had always trusted him.
"I didn't lie to you. I just didn't tell you something about me, something about my life that happened a long time ago. Maybe I was wrong not to tell you, maybe I made a mistake, but it was a decision that your mother and I made because we felt that we were doing what was best for you."
"Just like when you sent me away after Kathryn died? I wanted to help...I wanted to help you and Mom but you wouldn't let me. You sent me away. You shut me out." Garrett said, a trace of hurt in his voice.
"We didn't send you away to punish you. You know that, don't you?"
No answer.
"Garrett, you were ten years old. We knew that we couldn't take care of you after Kathryn...after it happened. That's why we sent you to live with your grandparents for a short time. We did it because we loved you."
A brief silence.
"Did you love her?"
"Howzat?"
"Marcia. Did you love her?"
"Of course I loved her. I loved her very much."
"More than you love Mom?"
"Garrett."
"It's just that, well, I remember Mom telling me that God gives everyone a special soul mate and that when you find this person, you marry them. Mom said that great-granddad Jeff found his in great-grandmom Ginger and they were married for over fifty years. And when great-granddad died, great- grandmom was so heartbroken that she couldn't live without him. She died just two weeks after him. You had to have believed that Marcia was your soul mate or else you wouldn't have married her, right?"
"Yes. When I married Marcia, I loved her very much and I thought that she was my soul mate, but I was wrong. We both were wrong. Son, we were very different people who wanted different things. Only thing was, we didn't realize that until it was too late."
Another brief silence.
"What happened, Dad? I mean, between you and Marcia? I want to know. Tell me, please?"
He wasn't salivating, but his mud green eyes were as smoldering as the heat.
Marcia had removed her navy blue suit jacket. Her bare arms, neck, and hint of cleavage were left exposed by her camisole-styled blouse.
She brushed a stray hair from her face as she continued focusing on the casebook in front of her.
He swallowed hard. It was now or never.
"Marcia." He whispered.
She looked up from her book. "Yes?" She answered her eyes looking deeply into his. Her eyes were like pools of light in which he felt himself drowning.
The air was thick with sexual tension. Both of them knew it. He gently cupped her face.
"What are you doing?" She asked even as she clearly knew his intentions.
"This." Was his simple reply before he leaned over and kissed her tenderly on the lips. But there was something more to that kiss. It was hungry; desperate, maybe, with an undercurrent of unleashed passion percolating to the surface.
Finally, their lips parted. She seemed breathless as a new trail of sweat journeyed from her neck towards her breasts.
"Garrett."
Her voice tickled his insides.
"Garrett!"
The spell was broken. And so ended was a daydream of desire.
Garrett was jolted back to reality.
"Marcia?"
"Yes?"
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course."
"How come you never got married?"
"I was married." She said softly, a trace of sadness in her voice.
Garrett remembered. The memory, the unfolding of the truth began eating away at him like some vengeful parasite. Marcia was married...she was married to...Oh God! What had Dad just said? That he was married to Marcia...that Marcia was his...his wife?"
Oh God!
Garrett recalled how guilty he felt having impure thoughts about Marcia. She was his boss and his friend. She was a caring and intelligent woman whose passion for her work had made an incredible difference in so many lives. He was attracted to her mind. That was what he tried telling himself even as he battled the desires that he felt for her, desire that admittedly had little to do with her intellect. He had gone to confession and prayed that he could be forgiven of this sin. But now it was even worse than he could have possibly imagined. Marcia had been Dad's wife. He had had thoughts like this about a woman who had been married to his father, which meant that she and Dad must have...Oh God! Garrett fought back a powerful wave of nausea that crashed against his insides like a tsunami. He felt as if he were going to be sick.
"Garrett? Son, are you okay?" Gary asked concerned when he saw the expression on Garrett's face.
Garrett nodded, but the gesture was hardly reassuring.
A brief silence.
"You...you and Marcia...she was...your wife?"
"Yes." Gary whispered.
Another brief, yet agonizing silence.
"No." Garrett finally said.
"No?"
"No. No, you couldn't have been married to Marcia. You're Catholic. And all those times, all those times in church when Father Donnelly talked about divorce being a sin, about marriage being a sacred bond and you never said anything? All these years and you never said anything? No, you wouldn't have done that. You wouldn't have lied to me like that."
It was a moment that many parents dread but perhaps expect- the moment that they fall off of the pedestal that their children place them upon. For a child, there's an unspoken expectation of perfection that they assign to a parent. It's an unfair expectation, really, but something that provides comfort and security in a crazy and insecure world. But when this "illusion of perfection" is shattered, the child is left with the truth- His parent is human.
Gary gazed into his son's eyes and instead of seeing the very tall, self- assured young adult, he saw his little boy. Gary saw the little boy who was afraid of the dark. Gary saw the little boy who was afraid of thunderstorms because he believed that the roaring meant that he had done something to make God angry with him. Gary saw the little boy that he had taught how to ride a bike:
"You can do it, Garrett. Just hold on to the handles and pedal. I've got you. That's it, son. You're doing great. Daddy won't let you fall. I've got you."
And he never let Garrett fall. Garrett had always trusted him.
"I didn't lie to you. I just didn't tell you something about me, something about my life that happened a long time ago. Maybe I was wrong not to tell you, maybe I made a mistake, but it was a decision that your mother and I made because we felt that we were doing what was best for you."
"Just like when you sent me away after Kathryn died? I wanted to help...I wanted to help you and Mom but you wouldn't let me. You sent me away. You shut me out." Garrett said, a trace of hurt in his voice.
"We didn't send you away to punish you. You know that, don't you?"
No answer.
"Garrett, you were ten years old. We knew that we couldn't take care of you after Kathryn...after it happened. That's why we sent you to live with your grandparents for a short time. We did it because we loved you."
A brief silence.
"Did you love her?"
"Howzat?"
"Marcia. Did you love her?"
"Of course I loved her. I loved her very much."
"More than you love Mom?"
"Garrett."
"It's just that, well, I remember Mom telling me that God gives everyone a special soul mate and that when you find this person, you marry them. Mom said that great-granddad Jeff found his in great-grandmom Ginger and they were married for over fifty years. And when great-granddad died, great- grandmom was so heartbroken that she couldn't live without him. She died just two weeks after him. You had to have believed that Marcia was your soul mate or else you wouldn't have married her, right?"
"Yes. When I married Marcia, I loved her very much and I thought that she was my soul mate, but I was wrong. We both were wrong. Son, we were very different people who wanted different things. Only thing was, we didn't realize that until it was too late."
Another brief silence.
"What happened, Dad? I mean, between you and Marcia? I want to know. Tell me, please?"