Black Book From Beyond

I awoke to another gray, depressing March morning to the sound of my wife’s blow dryer. Well, she still hasn’t left me yet.

Karen and I have been married for almost ten years now. When we first met I promised her the world and all I’ve been able to do is barely earn enough to pay half of our bills each month. Which as of now hasn’t exactly happened. I’ve been out work for 3 months because I was involved in a drunk driving accident and lost my delivery driver job. To make it worse, I haven’t even given up drinking. Not to mention I haven’t paid the mortgage for 3 months now and... um.... haven’t exactly mentioned that to Karen either. Hell I’ve just been sitting around feeling sorry for myself since I got home from my 15 day jail sentence I received for my glorious mistake. I thought for sure she would have been gone when I got out. But no, she was there to pick me up when I was released.

I pretty much have been sitting home waiting for her to leave me. That and well, gambling on any little thing I can in hopes to fix my financial woes. Now it’s gone too far and well, quite frankly, being honest now is beyond too late. There’s no way she would stay after that. How fricken ungrateful have I been? I mean honestly.

The 15 years we’ve been together haven’t been all bad. Well obviously she married me after me taking five years to propose. It was after trying to have children for a couple years, only to find out it was me that couldn’t produce. The real shitty thing is the two girls I dated prior to Karen both contacted me after we broke up to “confess” that they had both had abortions while in a relationship with me but never told me. Talk about a low blow, but twice? Anyway I never doubted the fact I “obviously was able to produce a child.” The only reason we eventually looked into it was because she thought it was her. In the end, it was completely because of me. No fault of my own I just shoot blanks. So I was lied to by two different people about something that serious? Pretty sinister right?

So now I’ll probably sit here all day again, not get dressed, and watch tv following another non-speaking watching of my wife leaving for work. I can’t even get the nerve to hug her goodbye and wish her a good day anymore. I don’t deserve her, I probably never did.

I did make an attempt to go outside for a moment, get some fresh air. Ok ok, let’s be honest it was to get the mail in case I had to hide anything from Karen getting it before I did. Junk, junk, and oh yeah a notice from the mortgage lender that we were now officially 90 days late and the foreclosure process was to begin. Screw me, that was it. How was I going to fix this?

After pouting for an hour or so I decided to call my mom. I hadn’t talked to her much since the DUI, I guess I was ashamed. Even though she has never looked at me as anything less, I just didn’t know what to say to her lately. I should have been there for her more, especially since it was almost a year since my dad passed away unexpectedly. I guess I didn’t want to add more grief. After short responses 15 or so minutes into our conversation she eventually says, “ honey, I know something is wrong. I’m here for you just tell me.” Well I couldn’t do it. I reassured her everything was ok and I was just bored and wanted to check on her.

About an hour or so later I apparently had dozed off to awaken abruptly from the door bell. No one was there except for a small box sitting on the welcome mat. No one was around and I didn’t remember ordering anything. There was no label or anything on the box either. I brought it inside, shook it a few times, and actually listened to it for a minute to ensure I didn’t hear a ticking noise or anything. So I opened it. Inside was a small, black book. From the sides it looked as if the pages were a little yellow, faded as if it was fairly old.

I was completely dumbfounded , sitting here just kinda staring at it for a few minutes. Then I opened it. I began reading and after a few lines I realized it was my dad’s writing. It was a journal he, well at least briefly, wrote in. No dates or timelines but it was clearly from him. I spent the afternoon reading through it. Come to find out it was all related to his conscience and how he was going through a very similar situation I was currently going through. The only difference is his motivation for writing it was, well his feelings of failure to my mother, and because it was written during her pregnancy with me. In the end , his final sentence was really simple. “ Just be honest no matter what, I promise it will be more than worth it.”

I sat there pondering what I had just read and called my mom back questioning where this had come from. She began telling how she never saw the little black book until recently. She found it in a box in the basement after going through a bunch of old things of my dads. When she found it, attached was a note saying, “ give this to our son if or when you sense he is ever really struggling.” She admitted to , obviously, reading it and had been waiting for the right time to give it me. That’s all it took, I broke down and cried like an infant sitting in a soiled diaper. I told her everything, I mean everything. I was so ashamed and how glad I was to receive that now. I missed my dad so much and wanted nothing more but to follow his advice.

When Karen arrived home from work I had already had her favorite meal ready for her. She was, let’s say shocked, and we enjoyed dinner together. After I cleaned up I asked her to allow me to come clean about everything.....so I did. I was more honest with her about the last three months than I thought I was capable of . I also realized that I hadn’t been this honest with her since we first met. I also ended the conversation by telling her that I fully understood if she were to leave me, I deserved it. After that she went to take a bath and went to bed without saying goodnight. She always said goodnight, every night for 15 years. Damn, I was sure that was it.

I couldn’t sleep that night so when I finally did crash I didn’t wake up until after Karen left for work. I sat at the kitchen table, stirring and staring into my coffee. All I could think about was what could I do to make things right. I screwed up bad this time, and I knew it.

Around noon the doorbell rang and again no one there except a small unlabeled box. Inside was a small piece of paper with an address and a key. I googled the address to find it was a bank I didn’t know existed. Confused, excited... not sure what I was feeling. I got dressed and drove to the address. Sure enough it was an old bank downtown.

After a few minutes of deep breath’s I went inside and showed the key to a teller. She then proceeded by leading me to a safety deposit box room and put her key into the appropriate box and asked me to insert mine into the second key hole. She opened the door, leaving the room while pulling the curtain shut.

I pulled out the slender box and set it down on the table in the room. I slowly opened it with my eyes closed. I opened it and peered down inside. It contained a folded up note on top of $20,000. All I could do was gasp! I quickly unfolded the note overwhelmed by what it would say. It was short but it read, “ Dear son, life is tough sometimes and all of us need a little help at times. I knew your mother would find the black book eventually and know when it was the right time to give it to you. I’m sorry I wasn’t around longer to help you through everything. I was never a wealthy man but I always loved you and had faith you would always do the right thing, no matter what.” I immediately was brought to tears I didn’t know what to think, let alone say. It was an absolute blessing that I needed now more than ever.

I immediately went to my bank and deposited enough to catch up on the past due I owed. I then called the mortgage lender and paid everything up to date. When I returned home I sat at the table with the rest of the cash waiting for Karen to get home. When she walked in I practically dove at her, hugging her tighter than ever before. I told her how much I loved her and insisted she take the rest of the money because I clearly let her down and lost her trust. I just wanted the chance to earn it back. Even if not at least she could move on with enough money for herself to start over. I didn’t want any of it.

We spent the evening snuggling on the couch, ending with her going to bed and she did say goodnight and that she loved me too. “ I just need a little time to process all this” were her words. I was definitely ok with that.

The next morning I woke up early to make her coffee before work. We hugged as she left. Shortly after I shaved, showered and got dressed. I then headed to the cemetery, realizing I hadn’t visited my dad there since the funeral. I sat at the foot of his grave on the damp morning grass for hours. I just kept thanking him and told him repeatedly how much I missed him. I don’t know what’s going to happen with everything now but I definitely have faith in the future again. “ I promise you dad, I will do it right from now on.”