A lone target, is an easy target.
January 2003 began on a good note, or so it seemed until my family learned that DF was speaking of salvaging the marriage. Then the source of incoming artillery changed. Where I had been fending of attacks from DF and KMC through the last part of 2002, now I found myself the target of family criticism and the source of discord.
It began slowly ~ a word here and there, indicative of built-up hostility and disdain, but soon the discontent crescendoed. DF and I had been merely eating lunch together at the office. Nothing more, but that was viewed by my family as unacceptable. Why, they proclaimed, would I wish to spend time with someone who had committed such egregious acts? My position was clear and concise. Naturally, I didn't condone his affair, but if he were truly sorry and regretted his transgressions, how could it be proper to stand in the way of his redemption? Did our marriage not deserve a second chance? We'd only been married 24 months or so, and what of the vows I'd uttered "in good times and in bad"? .
I'd just gone to bed, and was finishing a chapter in a book when the cell phone rang. It was 11PM and had been snowing fairly heavily for some time. The call was from DF who asked if he could store some things in the garage. I said that I thought it would be alright, and asked when he would want to meet to arrange that. He said, "I'm on my way now". "Now? I'm in bed already, can't we plan to do it tomorrow?". He urged me to just go downstairs and raise the door; that the things in the truck were getting soaked, and he'd only be a few minutes. "I'll be there in ten minutes" he said before ending the call.
Without bothering to dress, I wrapped up in a robe and went down to unlock the garage door. When he pulled up, the bed of the truck was piled high with boxes, which he proceeded to unload and began placing in the vacant bay of the garage. I was cold with just a silk robe tossed on waiting on the damp concrete step to the garage, so I went upstairs to put on something warmer. It came as quite a surprise to hear the garage door close later and his footsteps coming up the stairs.
January 2003 began on a good note, or so it seemed until my family learned that DF was speaking of salvaging the marriage. Then the source of incoming artillery changed. Where I had been fending of attacks from DF and KMC through the last part of 2002, now I found myself the target of family criticism and the source of discord.
It began slowly ~ a word here and there, indicative of built-up hostility and disdain, but soon the discontent crescendoed. DF and I had been merely eating lunch together at the office. Nothing more, but that was viewed by my family as unacceptable. Why, they proclaimed, would I wish to spend time with someone who had committed such egregious acts? My position was clear and concise. Naturally, I didn't condone his affair, but if he were truly sorry and regretted his transgressions, how could it be proper to stand in the way of his redemption? Did our marriage not deserve a second chance? We'd only been married 24 months or so, and what of the vows I'd uttered "in good times and in bad"? .
I'd just gone to bed, and was finishing a chapter in a book when the cell phone rang. It was 11PM and had been snowing fairly heavily for some time. The call was from DF who asked if he could store some things in the garage. I said that I thought it would be alright, and asked when he would want to meet to arrange that. He said, "I'm on my way now". "Now? I'm in bed already, can't we plan to do it tomorrow?". He urged me to just go downstairs and raise the door; that the things in the truck were getting soaked, and he'd only be a few minutes. "I'll be there in ten minutes" he said before ending the call.
Without bothering to dress, I wrapped up in a robe and went down to unlock the garage door. When he pulled up, the bed of the truck was piled high with boxes, which he proceeded to unload and began placing in the vacant bay of the garage. I was cold with just a silk robe tossed on waiting on the damp concrete step to the garage, so I went upstairs to put on something warmer. It came as quite a surprise to hear the garage door close later and his footsteps coming up the stairs.
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