Bo's Café (20 page)

Don’t let me screw this up
, I silently plead.

Then I’m in our house. It’s so quiet. Lindsey is not in the kitchen or the living room. I walk upstairs, past the bathroom
and our bedroom. The last room at the end of the hall is Jennifer’s. I walk up to the doorway. Lindsey is there, folding clothes
on the bed.

“Hello,” I call out tentatively.

She turns and looks at me. I hate that I have caused that look. It is a fragile but determined self-protection. She has had
time to prepare a speech I’m hoping she won’t have to give.

I blurt out, far too quickly, “Lindsey, I have so much I want to say to you.”

She has turned away, folding more clothes.

“But you tell me when you’re ready to hear it.”

Nothing. As I turn to leave the room she says quietly, “Steven, I’m not ready to talk. I need to be alone.”

It comes out in a guarded tone that confirms my fear that any trust we may have had is irretrievably gone.
Take my fear, God.

I pause for a moment, deciding if I should say something more. I walk out of the room and down the stairs. I move slowly,
hoping she’ll call after me when she realizes I’ve actually honored her request to be alone. But there is nothing. I walk
out the door and out to the sidewalk, past our cul-de-sac. When I finally stop, I’m in the middle of Crescent Park, nearly
a mile away. I sit on a bench, feeling incredibly shaken. I’m afraid if I give Lindsey too long, she could give herself permission
to leave me. But not too long later another thought presents itself.

Suddenly I realize something.
I’ve never done that before. I’ve never let her alone when she asked me to. And I didn’t do it to gain an advantage. I did
it because I want what she wants and nothing more. I love her but I’m not going to try to control her with that. Go figure.
Andy was right.

It’s early evening by the time I get up from the bench and head home. I enter the house to find her at the kitchen sink, preparing
dinner. I begin to climb the stairs but her voice stops me.

“You really look bad.”

I stop and look down.

“I’ve been over most of Southern California like this.”

We both stand motionless, neither of us sure what to say next.

“My sister told me I should divorce you.”

“She’s probably been talking to Melanie Patton.”

She partially turns to face me, her hands still in the sink. “Are you just going to stand there?”

“I was going to go get cleaned up.”

More silence.

“Help me set the table?” she asks. “After you’re done?”

I nod, walk upstairs, and change my clothes. When I come back down, I enter the kitchen and wordlessly go about setting out
three plates, three glasses, and three sets of silverware. For the next few minutes, a frightened couple finds whatever small
comfort there is to be had in the routine of preparing dinner. Finally, Lindsey sits down at the far end of the table, facing
away from me.

“I’m afraid, Steven.”

“I know.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m afraid too, Lindsey. But I’m trying to let God have that.”

“How many times have we been here before?”

“Too many. Where’s Jennifer?” I say, without looking up from folding napkins.

“I let her stay over at Kati’s until dinner is ready.” She taps a piece of silverware on a plate and says, “I can’t do this
anymore. I won’t do this anymore, Steven. It can’t keep being like this. This all has to change or… or—I don’t know… what
I’ll do.”

I long to jump in and tell her all that has happened to me in the last few hours. But this is what I always do, try to fix
something, control things, cut off what she’s trying to say. So I just stand there, shuffling plates around, nodding my head.

She asks, “Where had you been, dressed like that? You can’t have gone to work.”

“I’ve been with Andy, and then I drove for a while.”

“So what did he tell you?”

“Lindsey, I don’t even know where to start. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

“Like what?”

“Good stuff, I think.”

She raises her head, our first real eye contact since morning. “Go ahead.”

I take a deep breath. “Every time I’ve come home like this, after one of our fights, it’s been to buy you off with an apology
for my behavior. You know? But I’m not sure I’ve ever believed it was my problem. I told myself that you just got me upset
with your irrational response. It would make anyone angry.”

She turns toward me. “Is this the new good stuff? Because I gotta tell you—”

I gesture for her to be patient.

“So each time I would apologize for my behavior and promise not to get angry again. How many flowers? How many gifts to buy
you back? But nothing ever changed.”

She looks down at her hands. “It’s gotten worse. Much worse, Steven.”

“I know. Because I thought it was almost all about you. I’d think,
Yeah, maybe I get angry, but I’m right on almost everything else
.
Everybody else is screwed up, and I take the hit because I let my temper flare.
And I’ve been convinced I was right.”

She looks up at me, waiting. “And so… ?”

“And so…” I pause for a moment. “I was wrong. None of that’s true.
None
of it. It’s a lie I told myself.”

“What are you saying?”

“Let me try to get this all out, okay? I’ve got like four days’ worth of stuff I want to tell you.”

She leans back in her chair.

“Lindsey, I’ve used anger as a weapon to gain control. With you, at my job, even with Jennifer. I get angry to get my way.
I actually thought it was working. Then one day I did it to you again, but I realized it was just for show. I saw that you
were right, but I couldn’t face it. I was devastated. I realized I’d been lying to myself and you for years. But I couldn’t
admit it to you. I was afraid of what would happen. I couldn’t have explained it well then, and that’s when I started driving
around after work. I didn’t know what else to do. I just knew I didn’t want to be me anymore.”

Lindsey says, “That night… when you called and told me not to hold dinner—that first time. I was so afraid I was losing you.
I didn’t know what to do.”

I can see the pain in her eyes. Pain I’ve ignored a long time.

“Then I met Andy. He put up with me long enough for me to be able to face it—face my shame.”

I look into her eyes, hoping she can sense my sincerity.

“The hardest thing he’s said to me is this: while I’m trying to control others with my anger, my shame is controlling
me
. And you’ve borne the brunt of that for so long. You are married to a really unhealthy man.

“There.” I raise my hands over my head like a soldier surrendering in battle. “Is that like the craziest thing ever? Hearing
me talk like this?”

There’s hesitation in Lindsey’s voice. “I’ve waited a long time to hear you say something like this. And now that I’m hearing
it, I don’t know what to do. Am I supposed to say, ‘All right, then,’ and just go back to life like nothing ever happened?”

“No. You’ve done that too many times.”

“I don’t know what you’re doing, or why you’re saying this. I don’t want to go through this again, Steven.” Tears are forming
in Lindsey’s eyes. “I can’t. I don’t know if I can believe anything you say anymore.”

“I know.” I want to reach for her hands. “See, that’s right, Lindsey. That’s good. I don’t know if you
should
believe anything I say. Just because I have some revelation at a marina doesn’t undo a decade of manipulation.”

“That’s right, it doesn’t.”

She suddenly stands up, spins around, and angrily points her finger at me.

“No! Don’t do this, Steven! This isn’t fair. Don’t play me! Don’t do this!”

“I—”

“Shut up!” she yells. “I’d made up my mind. I had answers to all the justifications I knew you’d give. Then you pull this
crap! Where was this three years ago? Huh? Don’t do this. I can’t do this anymore.”

She’s up and pacing around the kitchen, waving her arms and slamming pots on the stove. Tears are streaming down her face.

“What am I supposed to do?” she screams, running back to the table. “Tell me! What am I supposed to do with all this—this
pain?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know.”

She rushes up to me and yells, “Okay! You win. That’s it. You win. You’ve worn me down. And this game of rehearsed lines you’re
playing with my head—I don’t trust a damned word you’re saying! Do you hear me?
I don’t trust you!!!
”

I want so much to just grab her and hold her. But she isn’t done. She shouldn’t be done. All I can say is, “You’re right.”

She jerks away and moves to the kitchen counter, turns away from me.

“I’m ready to leave you, Steven. I
will
leave you.”

“I know.”

“What do you mean, you know?” She is sobbing and yelling now. “You
don’t
know. You haven’t known since we got married! If this is today’s version of more flowers, just save it. I’m too tired. It’s
too late. I’m done.”

She is now darting from one side of the kitchen to the other, putting something in the oven, slamming the oven door. She continues,
still whirling and not looking.

“If you think nice words someone taught you to say are going to patch this up, you’re stupider than I thought. Don’t play
me for an idiot. Don’t do this, Steven!”

I’m sitting at the table. “Do you want me to go upstairs or something for a while?”

She spins around and yells, “Stop that! Stop playing the quiet, compliant husband! Do you know what I want? Do you?”

“Tell me,” I answer quietly.

“I want you to tell me the truth. I don’t need someone’s counseling lines. I need you to tell me what’s going on. Steven,
do you not remember this morning? It was absolute insanity. Do you know Jennifer is totally freaked out? She’s been texting
me all day from school. What am I supposed to say to her? She’s going to be home in a few minutes. What am I going to say
to her? Tell me!”

I get up from my chair. “Okay,” I say gently but more firmly. “Stop, all right? Will you listen for a second?”

She crumples back into her chair at the table, sobbing into her hands. “What am I supposed to do, Steven? Please, help me…
.”

She puts her head on the table, sobbing almost uncontrollably.

I walk closer to her, but still at a distance. “I have no idea what to do. I’ve never felt more confused in my entire life,”
I say.

No response. Just sobbing.

“Lindsey, I know this all sounds like rehearsed crap. Even as I say it, I know it sounds that way. But I’m praying you know
it’s not. You don’t have to say anything. Just listen. And when I’m done, you can call me a liar and ask me to leave. And
I promise I will.”

No response.

“I never trusted you with me—the real me. You or God. I didn’t think you were trustworthy—I don’t know why—so I kept you at
a distance to protect myself. I used anger to push you and everyone else away. And maybe even more hurtful than my anger was
how I didn’t allow you to see me or really love me. You’ve had all this love to give, all this you’ve wanted to say to me,
and I made you pay for it when you tried. What can I say? I can’t make it up to you. I can only tell you that I’m here now.
And I’m so desperately sorry, not because I want things to go back to normal, as if they ever were, but just that this time
I want you to know you were right. I know I’ve destroyed your heart. I know that much. And I just want to beg your forgiveness.
Not just for the things I’ve said or for breaking your heart so many times, but for trying to control you with my anger all
these years. Lin, now that I see it I’m so sorry for what I’ve put you through… . You don’t have to forgive me. You shouldn’t.
But I sure want it if you think you ever can.”

I touch the top of the table next to her.

“I’ve caused you to question who you are. I’ve beaten your dreams out of you. I’m not expecting or asking you to trust me.
I
don’t trust me—I’m like a scared little kid lashing out at anyone who gets in my way. Just try to believe this: I am truly,
unbelievably sorry. I’ve repented before God the best I know how. And I asked Him for the first time to do what I was never
able to do.”

Lindsey sits up slowly and looks at me. Her face is a red and puffy mess, covered in wet hair and tears.

“Lindsey, I’m getting this all garbled. A bunch of this is what Andy’s pointed out and I’m saying it really poorly. I’m only
trying to understand it and make the words mine. Whatever you do next, I just needed you to hear me say this.”

She sniffles. “You’re not saying it poorly.”

“Lindsey.” I want to grab her hands so badly, but I don’t. I won’t. “If it’s going to change, it has to start with me. I think
God sent Andy. I think He wants to show me how to dismantle this twisted character I’ve created. These are Andy’s thoughts,
but they’re the best things I’ve heard for years—maybe ever. I need to start believing who God says I am and live from that.
I’m not a screw up. I’m not hopeless. That’s what I’m trying to believe. That’s my whole game plan. If I can’t start to believe
that, then… you
should
leave me.”

She shakes her head and looks down at the table, wiping at her eyes.

“I’m so confused, Steven. Is this you, or what Andy wants you to believe?”

I smile. “You know me, Lin. I wouldn’t have seen this on my own. I think that’s why Andy’s here. For the first time in a long
time, I’m hopeful that I can believe this. So I guess it’s both Andy and me. His thoughts, God’s thoughts, or mine, this is
what I need to believe.”

I smile a little and take a step closer to her, still giving her room.

“I need you. You see me better than anyone. You can tell me the truth. I want you to tell me when you see me going toward
anger, toward protecting myself, when I’m getting scared or lashing out or whatever I do. You can hold me to it. I want you
to, and if I don’t let you, you shouldn’t trust me and I should go.”

“You really want me to tell you that? How do I know you’ll let me?” she asks.