LOVING THE UNLOVELY

Chapter Nine:  The Heartbreak

by Tricia K. Brown

Hos had gladly agreed to Mother’s Day Out.  He was wise enough to know that mothers of young children need regular breaks.  He tried to be good to G, to give her everything she needed.  He knew the Lord was using his marriage as an illustration of God’s love for people, and Hos wanted to do a good job of portraying that love. 

After all, he really did love G.

He reminded himself of this as all kinds of terrible thoughts crossed his mind.

“Could there be any truth to the rumors?”

G wasn’t at home or at the local grocery store. She wasn’t at the library or her favorite coffee shop.  

She wasn’t answering her cell. 

He almost felt guilty, hunting for her like this. Marriages were based on trust. Shouldn’t he give G the benefit of the doubt?

Still, there was this nagging voice ringing in his ears. It sounded eerily like Mrs. Sullivan.

“She’s cheating on you, Hos. She is with another lover. You are such a fool.”

Hos tried to pray. He tried to comfort himself with scripture, but it was no use. The voice was persistent, filling his mind and overflowing into his heart. He was drowning in his emotions, choking on them, beginning to feel sick.

Then, as if by rote, he found himself headed towards an area of town that he knew only from its reputation. He pulled into the gravel parking lot, weaving among motorcycles and pick-up trucks and brown, broken glass. A neon sign flashed in the dark windows announcing that the establishment was open for business.

He was just about to leave, breathing a sigh of relief, when he saw the bumper of the minivan peeking out from behind the dumpster. He pulled in beside it and got out.

Hos leaned against the passenger window and stared in. Rob and Amy’s car seats, Jessie’s soccer ball, G’s Bible… He pushed himself away and walked slowly towards the door of the bar.  He pushed it open, just a little, to look inside. His heart beat violently against his chest. 

There she was, in the darkness, barely visible and, yet, still on display. She was sitting on a bar stool, wearing the jeans she had on this morning when she said goodbye. But her wedding band, her shoes, and her blouse were missing. She sat there in her fancy bra, the one she bought for their first anniversary, the one she only wore on special occasions. She sat there in that bra with a beer bottle in her hand, one arm draped around a man Hos didn’t recognize.  

Before Hos could respond, before he had even processed what exactly he was seeing, someone noticed him.

For a split second, the bar grew quiet as all eyes fixed on him.  Almost instinctively, G turned toward the door. She looked at him, stared at him, and then, someone laughed, and someone else joined in. Soon the whole place was laughing, and G just stared at the stricken face of her husband.

Hos couldn’t speak.  His mouth was dry, his body numb.  He seemed incapable of anything, of any emotion, of any words, of any action.  He just stood there as G turned around, pulled the stranger towards her and kissed him on the lips.

He drove the minivan home that day. He left the keys to his car on the front seat. He picked up the children from Mother’s Day Out and, for weeks afterwards, he went through the motions of being a single father. Without explanation, he asked a friend to cover for him for a few Sundays. He stayed in his apartment and took care of the children. He avoided people.  He avoided questions.  He didn’t even pray.  His children cried for their mother.

“She’s gone on a trip,” he would say.  He couldn’t bring himself to answer when Jessie asked for how long.

Then, one night, after he had put the children to bed, he slipped down the stairs and into the sanctuary. He rubbed his hands over the back of the empty pews. He stood behind the wooden pulpit. He turned towards the stained glass cross. For a split second, he had an almost irresistible urge to throw something at it. He wanted to see it crack, to hear the crash, to watch it break and shatter to the floor. He wanted to scream.

Instead, he fell on his knees, cupped his hands over his ears, and cried.

That’s when it happened, again. 

The Lord spoke to him as clearly and concisely as He had so many years ago. 

“Love her, Hos,” He said. “I told you to love her.”

And Hos knew what he had to do.