When A Father Attacks: Now What?

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Part 4 of When A Father Attacks.

I went home...but I took my time getting there.

After working off site until eight-thirty that evening and being nowhere near any of the public transportation I normally take to go home, I hopped on the subway and took it to the end of the line. Before the call from my wife, the plan had been for her to pick me up from the last stop in our car. After her call I wasn't calling her or anyone else.

Far from home, but not far from a home where I had family, I dropped in on my mother-in-law who welcomed me in, fully aware of the strife between my wife and I. I snacked, drank a needed glass of Bacardi Dark on the rocks and watched Ocean's Thirteen (I've never seen this movie all the way from start to finish. As with every other time I've tried to watch it, I came in at the exact same point and as with all my previous attempts, I fell asleep before the end.).

Before dozing off I contemplated where my life is versus where it was before my wife and I met. I wondered if this quiet place of reflection was where so many men have been before considering divorce. Then I began to wonder why I had taken my wife's actions so hard and so personally. We were getting nowhere. I wondered if I was mad for the sake of being mad. Outside of her presence, I could clearly see her point of view, but in her presence she outraged me. And that's the best way for me to put it.

As the evening chugged on into night, I became more aware of the fact that although my daughter was gone, my son was finishing off his last week of school before his trip down South to visit family.

He didn't deserve our BS. I owed it to him to be home, or at the very least least to be there when he woke up the next day.

I began to look at the Metro North train schedules and considered calling a cab when my stand-in mom offered to take me home.

The lights were still on as I expected them to be when I got there.

"I called you," said my wife, in a low and reserved tone.

I ignored her comment and told her I worked later than expected (which I did).

"I thought the plan was for me to pick you up."

I handed her the mail I had picked up on my way in. "It was..." I offered with no further explanation.

I went to check on my son in his room. I found him fast asleep under a pile of sheets, a blanket and his clothes. The sight made me laugh and I went to the back to get out of my work clothes. I did my part to clean the house and went straight to bed, passing on my usual routine of checking emails and tinkering with this blog.

The next morning my wife and I agreed to ride in to work together without actually acknowledging one another. On the train she asked me where I had really been the night before and when I told her she got loud. She told me in several words that I was mean, unforgiving and discourteous for not calling to let her know where I was.

She also added that she didn't care if I stayed out all night. But I knew she did.

I continued on my ride with her, listening to her words --- all of them were angry, defensive, fierce and unconstructive. There was no life in any of them as there was none in any of mine.

I had to ask myself...was this the way friends speak to or deal with each other?

The answer was easy: no.

Now what?

The end of When A Father Attacks is coming soon.