Ordinarily I’m against abortion, but I was quickly learning I could make an exception. “Ah - dang, I got to go, I have to get off this exit, and don’t want to crash. I’ll call you later, all right?”“Are you OK?” she asked me, a touch of sarcasm in her voice.“Sure - just need to think.”We hung up. And I had to think. Oh, boy do I have to think.And so I thought. I told my wife I was just distracted by something at work. I went out on a drive. I sat in an empty parking lot, looking up at the stars, wanting to beg God to make it not true. I didn’t dare. I knew it was all of my own making, and I didn’t deserve to be rescued from my fate.I went home and played with my daughter. My wife must have known that something was up, but she didn’t pry as I stacked up blocks and my daughter gleefully tore them down.That night as I lay in bed, my wife sleeping next to me, I was still thinking. The phrase “rock bottom” kept going through my mind.I was going to lose it all. Maybe I hadn’t loved my wife. . "Are you Sally?" I asked, remembering.Her face suddenly softened. "Elizabeth?" Of course," I told her. "I'm Martha. All under control. Give me your baggage."She yielded up her luggage and followed me up the stairs. "I'd expected someone older," she said, "I've eaten your meals. They were delicious."I had to laugh. But suddenly I felt very kindly towards this weary innocent."C'mon. Bath and a drink? Champagne on offer?"And so I watched her transform herself from a small and weary waif into a party hostess. I settled her in the guest-room and ran a bath. I came back with champagne and the box that Robert had sent. What a difference from Elizabeth - if this really was a lover. But she must be! I undid the box for her. Earrings! So pretty, but so perfect. Long strings of perfect pearls to hang against the curve of her jaw. She confessed that the she'd only worn the simple studs in her ear for two years. I watched her dry herself - swiftly, casually. Then into the guest-room - she seemed.
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