Henry is tired of being the middleman between his wife and her estranged parents. After fifteen years, he finally puts his foot down and asks for the actual reason for their breakdown. But when he discovers the truth — everything changes.
I understand complex family dynamics. I know that issues rise to the surface, fester, and create something ugly. When my wife, Candace, disowned her family, I had no choice but to support her.
Except that it’s been fifteen years, and she hasn’t said a word to them. And she won’t tell me why.
“Mom said that I can’t go to Grandma’s house,” our son, Lucas, told me. “Grandpa is helping me with an assignment.”
I had gotten so used to this — Candace always saying no, while Lucas just wanted to be with his grandparents — who doted on him.
“I’ll handle it,” I said to him.
I took Lucas to his grandparents and then returned home to find Candace making waffles.
“I didn’t want you to take him,” she said.
“Your parents love Lucas. I don’t see why he shouldn’t spend time with them. You have a problem with them, but that doesn’t mean he should.”
Candace looked at me with her big blue eyes and blinked slowly.
“They mean nothing to me,” she said.
I couldn’t understand what had gone wrong. When Candace was pregnant with Lucas, her parents were always at our house. Her mother cooked everything she could dream of, and her father did whatever she asked.
They were inseparable and had even moved in with us for the week leading up to Lucas’s due date. But then Candace gave birth, and everything changed.
“Candace,” I said, watching her dig into her waffles. “Tell me what happened.”
She continued to chew, avoiding eye contact.
“Tell me, or I’m going to file for divorce. I can’t live a life based on lies.”
She dropped her fork to the counter and marched out of the kitchen.
“You want the truth, Henry?” she said as she walked. “Here’s the truth.”
She went into our study and pulled out a thick file stuffed between old encyclopedias — the collection that her father bought on request.
She tossed the file to me and walked out.
I stood there, hunched over my desk, paging through a labyrinth of documents, medical records, and a handwritten note.
Reading it, I felt like the earth had fallen off its axis.
Leave a Reply