Chapter Twelve
Sitting outside my locked bedroom door, listening to my wife cry herself to sleep over me, it’s gut wrenching.
I’m so helpless. The amount of times I’ve gotten up and sat back down, because I’m contemplating breaking into our room is embarrassing.
It’s embarrassing that I even have to break into my bedroom to comfort my wife. But here we are.
How the fuck do people do this? Countless men before me have been ranchers and volunteer firefighters. They’re all married, still married, and have been for decades. What’s the damn secret that no one is letting me in on?
And why can’t my own wife see how hard I’m trying despite tonight’s setback?
I didn’t know how bad the fire would be. Ground fires aren’t usually so long, or emotionally draining. But it was the Rec Center. I couldn’t leave everyone else to fight with trapped kids and just say “Sorry. I have a date with my wife.”
There’s got to be a balancing act somewhere I’m missing.
Me: Chief, how do you do it? How do you do the firefighting and keep your marriage going?
Instead of getting a text back, my phone rings in my hand. I scramble to get up off the floor and make my way down the stairs, so I don’t interrupt Juliette. It sounds as if her sobs have stopped and I don’t want to wake her up.
Stepping out onto the porch, I swipe to answer the call.
“Hey, Chief.”
“Son, want to tell me what’s going on?”
Sitting in the old rocking chair on our front porch, I scrub a hand over my face before admitting my failure as a husband. “She left me. Tonight was supposed to be our date in Bozeman to finally put all the shit behind us. And–”
“And instead you were at the fire with us.” He states it simply, an understanding at play.
“Yup. You got it. She’s so hurt and it’s all my fault.
When you called, I was sitting on the floor outside of my own locked bedroom door, listening to my wife cry because of me.
I need to know the secret. I need to know how to keep my wife and my job doing what I love.
I don’t know who I am without either one. ”
“It’s not easy. And it’s not linear. Some days she’s mad as a wet hen.
But for the most part it’s work, on both sides.
She needs to understand that what I do isn’t some office job where I can walk out at five and clean my hands of it until the morning.
And it’s work on my part to make sure if I’m gone a lot or if I miss something I’m still making her feel special after. ”
“I’ve been pretty shitty at that. I thought I was doing better though.” The defeat is evident in my quiet tone.
“Have you ever heard of ‘too little too late’, son?” He chuckles at my misfortune, I get the vibe he’s been here before and learned a thing or two.
“I know, I know. This was too soon. I should have been here tonight. But, I also should’ve been with you. I don’t know how to balance the two right now with ranching in the mix as well.”
“Can I make a suggestion that you’re not going to like?”
“At this point I will do anything. I can’t lose Juliette in my life.” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees as I listen intently.
“Take a step back from the department. Your wife needs you more than we do right now. We’re well into winter and I’d rather have you in spring.
You’re an excellent firefighter, you did an amazing job today.
But, you won’t continue to be amazing if you’re struggling at home.
Fix your house and then our house will be here for you when you’re ready to come home. ”
“Yeah, I might have to do that. But it makes me feel like shit to leave y’all hanging.”
“You’re not. We will figure it out. You get your woman back and then we get you back. I’ll be here helping you to navigate doin’ both.”
“Thanks, Chief. I appreciate you taking the time to talk to me.”
The call ends with me officially requesting my leave as a volunteer firefighter. I don’t know what hurts more, giving up my work with the station or having my wife leave me.
Now I just need to figure out how the hell I’m supposed to get my wife back.
Me: I need tomorrow off. Can you handle the guys?
Murray: Yeah, I can. Everything good?
Me: It will be.
I am dragging ass into Ms. Patti’s this morning. I stayed up all night fixing and cleaning the rest of the bar. I wasn’t going to sleep with the anxiety I had fluttering through every nerve in my body so I might as well do some cleaning.
“You look like you were rode hard and put up wet, son.” Ms. Patti raises a brow, taking in my haggard appearance.
My sweatpants are stained and dirt streaked. My hair is probably sticking up in eight different directions. The black circles under my eyes are so heavy I can literally feel them setting deeper in.
“I don’t feel much better.”
“It’s because you let that girl look like that and buy pizza for another man last night.” She clicks her tongue.
My eyes pop open, and my head snaps in her direction. “What do you mean?”
“Look at you! Worried you lost your girl to another. You’re lucky he’s four and sick. But you better figure yourself out before what I said becomes your truth.”
“I’m trying.” I all but spit out. I’m so sick of everyone telling me to fix it. I’m fucking trying my hardest and failing hard.
“Do you need a hug?” She holds her arms out to me as she walks around the counter. “I’m sorry. I should have kept my nose to myself.”
Do I want a hug? I mean kind of. I decide to just stand still, letting her hug me.
“I’m trying. I really am. I just… I’m so fucking lost.” I don’t know why I’m admitting that to her.
“I know, baby. You’ll get there. You want some advice from an old woman?”
“Yes. I want all the advice.”
“Keep her in mind. Everything you do for her, make sure it’s for her, not something to make yourself look good. Improve her life and she’ll improve yours. Your spouse shouldn’t detract from your life.”
Keep her in mind. I can do that. Maybe. Hopefully.
“Here. Take this for her. She ate pizza and ice cream last night so she needs healthy food to fuel her this morning. And take this,” she hands me a chocolate muffin. “Because everyone needs a little sweet to start their day.”
“Thanks, Ms. Patti.” I take the items and walk back to my truck like a zombie. I want to sleep more than anything else right now.
The house is still and quiet when I get back. Juliette must still be sleeping. I put the overnight oats from Ms. Patti into the refrigerator and add a note to the muffin.
Jules,
There’s breakfast in the refrigerator. And a muffin.
I love you.
-Cal
I kick off my sneakers, and notice a small pile of sand in the middle of the floor when I pick them up. Closing my eyes and sucking in a deep breath I let the memory of the dirty boots sink in.
I really just fucking want to sleep. But I know what I need to do.
Keep her in mind.
Letting out my breath, I walk my shoes to the mat by the front door and stop to grab the broom out of the closet on the way back to the kitchen. I sweep up the kitchen floor, because I’m already here, and I walked all over so there’s probably sand everywhere.
Getting all of it into a nice neat pile I’m bent over sweeping it into the dustpan when I hear footsteps on the stairs.
They stop in the living room and my skin prickles. I can feel her eyes on me.
“What are you doing?”
I don’t answer, but walk over to the trash to dump my pile. “I fucked up. Again. I forgot to take off my shoes. So I just had to clean it up.”
It must be the exhaustion, but frustration is seeping into my bones. I don’t want to hear how I fucked up again right now.
Walking by her I put the broom back in the closet. Leaning over, I kiss her on the forehead. “There’s breakfast for you in the refrigerator.” Without another word I walk up the stairs and straight into the shower.
A hot shower, then a nap. That’s all I need.