WE GATHER TOGETHER by Edward L. Woodyard

We Gather Together Chapter Sixty-Nine

Jack Drexler was lying on his back under the top sheet and blanket on his bed in his motel room; it had a fresh bedspread, folded at his feet. He stared at the ceiling, ignoring the cracks and stains in the plaster; he was instead thinking about his probable new job and how he could seek forgiveness for having been such a total jerk by walking out on his family when his ego was bruised and insulted by Annie's harangues. Jack knew Annie had mostly been right in her conclusions, but he wanted to say it about himself and not have her say it, over and over and over and over again. When he said it about himself, it was meant to be positive and constructive; when she said it about him, he felt it was relentless and critical. He was far more self-aware than what she acknowledged.

Jack's scrutiny of himself was interrupted by headlights shining through a break in the motel room's front window curtains. A sliver of light was now emblazoned on a large mirror over the bathroom counter, illuminating the room. Jack saw headlights dim and heard a car engine shut off. He thought the car might belong to a late-arriving guest at the motel. He was wrong.

There was a knock on the door to his room.

Jack threw aside the sheet and blanket and got up to peer through the break in the window curtain. He was naked except for his grandfather's mezuzah and a pair of plaid boxers. He recognized the Toyota Camry outside of his room and slid on his blue jeans and a tee shirt. He didn't bother to turn on a light when he unlatched his motel room door and opened it.

Michaela Martino stood in front of him. Her silk jacket was unzipped, exposing a lacy blouse unbuttoned below her breasts and no bra. In her hands, she held two wine glasses and an already uncorked bottle of California merlot. She tossed her head back to get her brunette hair off of her face and pursed her lips which boasted recently applied lip gloss.

Jack scanned her from waist to face. He shook his head no and quickly diverted his eyes away from her gaze. He stepped back from the threshold and shut the door of his motel room, latching it again. Inside the room, he took off his blue jeans but kept the tee shirt on. Nights this time of year were getting colder.

As he got himself settled again under the covers, he looked at the carabiner with his car key; his wedding ring was still attached to it. He wasn't ready yet to put it back on, but it might keep women from hitting on him if he did. He heard Michaela's Camry start and then saw a second sliver of headlights through the curtains reflect in the mirror over the bathroom counter. The sound of her car's engine faded as she backed into the motel driveway and drove away on the river road.

Jack turned on his side, facing the other queen bed in the room. He inhaled deeply, relieved that Michaela was gone. He then smiled, thinking about how much he had laughed tonight with Jason and Kelly, cradling each in his arms as the three of them nestled against Kelly's headboard while he read Goodnight Moon.

Jack remembered the time he and Annie had their first apartment and the two kids shared a room; Jason had graduated to a single bed and infant Kelly was in the crib. He remembered how he got up in the middle of the night and put a kitchen chair in the center of their room. He sat and watched them sleep for hours. Annie woke up and found Jack there, tears falling down his face, he telling her that he never thought he could ever love anything so much in his life. As Annie bent down next to the chair to hold him, he could barely get the words out through his gasps and sobs, "We're a family, Annie."

Jack gathered his motel pillow under his head and fell asleep that night, vowing never again to consciously or purposely disappoint those he loved most.

What Jack didn't know was at that same time, Annie was lying in their bed at home, remembering the same thing, thinking about how she had held Jack while he cried. At that moment, he was the happiest that she had ever seen him, his gasps and sobs letting her know that she was never more in love with him than she was right then, when she gently wiped away his tears with the hem of her nightgown. She knew the intensity of that moment for Jack; it had been six years earlier when he had lost both parents and his only sister, all within five days of each other.

Annie felt the emptiness next to her in bed, then pulled her pillow over her head so that she wouldn't wake up the kids with her crying.

In thinking about the kids, she suddenly remembered that she had to be the tooth fairy that night. She pulled herself out of bed, took two one-dollar bills from her wallet, snuck into Jason's room, replaced her baby tooth from under his pillow with the two dollars, then snuck back to her own room, put her baby tooth back in the envelope, then went back to bed. She was realizing that she may be too busy being a mother to cry – or to ever open her own business.