A Sign of Love

SEX - A Sign of Love

Not tonight. I’m tired. I have a headache. No, I’m not in the mood. Those are the characteristics of a woman who doesn’t like to be touched. Beatings from an alcoholic father shaped Jill’s feelings. However, she loved children. Jill became pregnant six times.

Jill is the protagonist in novel, Baggage burdens.

Like her husband one might think Jill sees the purpose of sex is just to have children. Not true.

One story comes to mind that shows that love inspires Jill to have sex. The event takes place when she and her husband, Joseph, are driving home in a snowstorm from Edmonton. The roads appear treacherous to Joseph so he pulls in to a motel.

“We not using highway 21?” Jill asks.

“Highway 2 is a divided highway. Should be safer.”

 Jill studies Joseph as he drives. Both hands firmly grip the steering wheel. His eyes waver from the road once. The radio repeats the weather warning.

As Joseph picks up highway speed, she turns her attention to the road ahead. A white sheet covers the lane to the left. Before them two narrow black paths trace a route where some vehicles already passed. No vehicles are visible. The right shoulder is a soft white pillow, a hazard waiting to grab a careless tire. Jill imagines their vehicle being dragged into the ditch. Then Joseph veers to right. Jill jerks her head up.

“What are you doing?” she asks, as she sees Joseph heading for the exit ramp.

Without taking his eyes off the single set of tracks Joseph answers. “If I’m not mistaken, there’s a motel up ahead, the last one before Leduc. If they have a vacancy sign, I think we should take a room.”

“You sure?” Jill has never known Joseph to let road conditions or weather change his driving plans. She turns the radio down to hear Joseph’s reply clearly.

A soft defeated yeah, escapes Joseph’s lips. As they plow ahead at a decreasing speed, Jill notices Joseph’s right hand race from the wheel to his eye. A quick wipe. His hand re-grips the wheel.

Jill focuses on Joseph’s face instead of the snow on the road ahead. “Joseph, what’s wrong?”

Joseph sucks in a long deep breath before he says, still in a very low voice, “that radio warning––don’t drive unless you have to.” He falls silent again. His hand sweeps away another tear creeping out of the corner of his eye. “That’s the warning my grandmother told me was issued when my parents tried to drive home from Grand Prairie. They didn’t heed the warning. They died.” He takes another deep breath and adds, “I don’t want that for our children.”

Before Jill can respond, Joseph’s arm shoots out pointing to the motel sign. “I knew it,” declares Joseph. A few moments later he adds, “There’s a vacancy.” He shifts into park. “You coming?” he asks as he turns off the engine.

‘I’ve got it,’ thinks Jill. She remembers a play she previewed for the drama club. A smile crosses her face as she recalls the opening scene.

“You coming?” repeats Joseph. He opens the car door.

“You want a married woman to spend a night in a motel with you, right?”

The strange question stops Joseph as he half steps out of the car. He states his affirmative answer. Turning around he looks at her, trying to figure out what she is up to.

“Do you think it’s wise that the clerk knows who the woman is that will be sharing your––”

“Whaaat?” says Joseph as he drags himself back into the car.

“Grabs your attention, doesn’t it?” says Jill grinning. “I just paraphrased an opening scene from a play our drama group half considered.”

“Jill, what does this have to do with anything?” A touch of annoyance colors Joseph’s response.

“Joseph, I want you to trade scenes, the depressing scene of your parent’s death for an alluring fantasy scene, a scene where a guy picks up an attractive lady from a party and brings her to a motel for the night.”

Joseph digests her idea. “A fling?” he ventures.

“With a mystery woman, a once-in-a-life-time opportunity,” clarifies Jill, grinning. She sees Joseph buying into her option. “A secret only you and I will know about.”

Joseph toys with the implication for a few seconds. “Stay here. I’ll go register us.”

He is halfway to the office door by the time Jill rolls down the window and calls out.

“Joseph. Sign us in as Mrs. and Mrs. Smith. And pay cash.”

Jill’s instructions cause Joseph to pause.

“Our secret, remember? No one will know,” she clarifies.

haiku capsule:

painful memory

love suggests a fantasy

wiping tears away

                   

      Next blog: To Really Help a Friend

Quitting

Quitting

  Quitting, an act of desperation, even frustration, suggests there’s no longer any hope. The possibility of achieving the dream or goal is vanished. Why pour out more time, energy, or money?

For some, the journey to a goal is sufficient reward. If you’re competing to have the best landscaped yard in the community and a wealthy neighbor pours thousands of dollars into the same project, winning may seem impossible, especially if you don’t have that kind of money. However, if the planting and the sight of flowers and shrubbery adorning the area surrounding your house is a joy, then there’s no reason to quit.

Another factor that would throw cold water on a dream is if pursuing the goal suddenly becomes harmful. Imagine the backyard gardening project that you are working on takes place in a large stretch of desert. You learn that rattlesnakes frequent the proposed patch. That would certainly make me throw in the towel.

While either motivation can justify giving up on a dream, what does it take to give up on a marriage? You, no longer being the source of joy for your spouse may cause you to give up on the marriage. Eyes may drift looking for a new partner. Still peace in the household may be enough to preserve the marriage. Disturb that peace by a spouse becoming negative, critical, or nagging. Now, the home has become a battleground, a place of attacks. Be on your guard. The emotional impact of the aggressive environment can drive one to give up on the marriage no matter how committed they want to be.

Giving up is a frequent theme in my novel, Baggage burdens. Jill runs away from her grandmother, the one who rescued her when she was homeless, the one who helped her with her high school courses and gave her a house to live in, a house that sat in a park like setting. At the time Jill felt like she was in heaven. She could even pursue her drama involvement dreams. Then she gave up this dream-life. Her grandmother was bringing her former boyfriend to see her. Jill, giving up on this ideal home setting, speaks to the great harm she perceived by renewing a relationship with her former boyfriend.

For Joseph, a man of faith, divorce was not an option. He felt very lucky that a beautiful girl married him. Jill had some emotional problems, but he was determined to do whatever he could to make her happy. He didn’t mind appearing to be a fool in the eyes of the community for having chosen her. He didn’t consider himself a great catch either. Once they moved into the city everything changed. Making her happy became more and more difficult, more and more expensive. This he could handle for the sake of the children. When Jill began turning their children against him––his eldest daughter for the first time said she hated him––he decided his marriage was no longer worth saving. He quit trying.

“I really need your help,” Jill repeats. She cries. 

Karen waits until Jill controls her sobbing.

“What is it Jill?  What’s the matter?” She gently squeezes Jill’s hand hoping to suggest strong support.

 “I want you to help me move out.” Jill pauses looking into Karen’s eyes. “To Camrose.” 

The expected wide-opened eyes registers on Karen’s face. There’s no hint of rejection.

Karen immediately thinks of her friends in Camrose. Who could best support Jill? “Certainly, but why?”

I have to get away from here as soon as possible.” After a pause, Jill adds, “By Monday morning.” Again she searches Karen’s eyes for a hint of reluctance or disagreement. 

Bewildered, Karen tries again. “Jill, what’s happened? You’ve got to tell me.” 

“Promise not to tell anyone, including Linda?”

“I swear,” assures Karen instantly.

Jill begins with her grandmother’s announcement. She's bringing Dave to visit her. Jill states she wants nothing to do with Dave, leaving out any reference to his brother, Greg.

“You sound like you still have some feelings for Dave. Are you really sure you want nothing to do with him?” 

Looking at Karen’s face Jill senses Karen’s unvoiced bewilderment. 

‘Could Karen end up becoming an ally of my grandmother’? I can’t let that happen.’

“I can’t. Not at this time,” answers Jill firmly.

Her answer comes so quickly and confidently that Karen abandons exploring that option.

Karen nods her understanding. “What can I do?” 

“Help me get set up in Camrose. That’s where you lived before moving here, right?” 

Karen nods. “If you mean for a job, I think I can. I’ll have to make a phone call first, a little later this morning.”

“And a place to live?”

“If I’m right, the people I’m thinking of should be able to help you with that too.” 

“Listen, I really hate to be such a bother, but I’ll also need a ride to the train station early Monday morning. And I’ll need a little help with my luggage.” 

Karen nods in agreement again. “Like some help packing after we’ve had some sleep?” 

Jill glances at the stove clock. ‘Three thirty!’ Jill accepts Karen’s suggestion for some sleep. With support for her escape plan, Jill succumbs to six more hours of sleep.

haiku capsule:

journey to your dream

destination disappears

drive evaporates

                   

      Next blog: SEX - Love Sign

I'm Afraid

I’m     Afraid

 “Afraid? Who me? No way.”

Who in their right mind would confess to being afraid, being vulnerable? Maybe to a close very trusted friend. Never shine a light on your weakness. Someone is sure to take advantage. Unrealistic reaction? Not if you have suffered at the hands of self-centered individuals several times.

So if circumstances raise your fear adrenalin, what do you do? Some people fake it. Some choose anger or humor to camouflage your anxiety. Others choose to remove themselves from perceived threatening situations––runaway. For people who choose to believe that a strong offence is the best defense, then those people choose to control their environment and people around them.

Reason might suggest that bursts of anger may end up isolating you. Running doesn’t solve the problem. In time the threat will resurface. Attempt to control people and you could find friction erupting. Even an alternative, prepare to face the threat and resolve the problem, while it is solid advice it is easier said than done.

Fear is an emotion. It isn’t logical. That’s the first step in understanding the actions of Jill, in my novel, Baggage burdens. For Jill, facing her threat is a nonstarter. When she confronted her intoxicated father, the result was a beating, a beating several times. Exercising control over her father or her giving way to angry outbursts was ineffective. What else was she to do but runaway? That strategy too had painful consequences. While analyzing the options that she could use might have resulted in her choosing the least harmful, Jill was too busy trying to survive. What she needed to reverse her downward spiral was right beside her, but it was hidden in a fog of fear and anger. Only when her emotions cooled to a simmer would she find the answer to living a life of peace.

Confront Your Problem

The back door slams announcing the arrival of Jill’s father. 

‘No, no.’ Jill tries to stop the rerun of this childhood memory.

“He said he wouldn’t drink anymore!” Jill’s outburst erupts, as she fails to contain her haunting memory. Righteous anger forces the seventeen year old to her feet to face her father. “He’d better go downstairs and call his AA buddy.” Jill summons her courage; then advances, intent to demonstrate her conviction and redirect her father downstairs.

Alice scrambles after her angry daughter. “Jill, don’t.”

“Don’t what? That was the deal. He said if he ever comes home drunk again we could tell him he had to call his AA buddy. We could remind him of it. He agreed to that. Remember?” The volume of her voice rises.

Jill advances again toward the top of the stairs planning to meet her father before he reaches the top step. The smoke from the cigarette, which he tossed on the top of the stairs nips at her nostrils. ‘Step on it,’ flashes through her mind. Before she can act, her mother’s objection interrupts.

 “Yes, but . . .” 

Jill wheels around and faces her mother. “But what?”

Alice can’t find the words quickly enough to explain how Jill’s provocative voice could ignite an emotional explosion and possibly a violent confrontation. The frustrated growling from the porch announces an intoxicated struggle to get out of outside clothes.

“Let me talk to him. Pleeease go to your room.” Alice’s pleading voice weakens Jill’s resolve.

Grumbling continues to bounce off the porch walls.

Go to your room. Quickly.” Alice sees her desperate pleading reduce Jill’s resolve. “Remember last time,” she adds.

Alice’s reference ignites the fear Jill hoped to permanently suppress. Three months earlier, overflowing with confidence from her year of weight training and the school’s women’s defensive course, Jill confronted her drunken father in the kitchen. She dared to challenge his behavior. Result: a neck jarring slap in the face. With pent up fury Jill delivered a similar action.

Her father exploded.

Jill deflected his first swing. More swiftly followed. His first direct hit landed Jill on the floor. Her single opportunity to escape resulted in him grabbing her hair and yanking her back. Sitting on her, he slapped her left and right again and again until Alice struck his head with a cast iron frying pan. Police were called again. Warnings were issued. Promises were made. Three weeks passed before Jill’s bruises disappeared, and she could face her classmates.

haiku capsule:

violence breeds fear

emotional responses rule

life in disarray

                   

      Next blog: QUITTING