A Storied Romance

"Yea," I teased back. "Tough life, ain't it?"

I laid my hand on Fiona's knee and gently stroked her lower thigh. As I did, Fiona melted back into my arms. I was a happy man and I knew that Todd could see that.

"So tell me, Todd. What can you tell me of my sorry excuse for a wife?"

Todd hesitated a long time before answering. Finally, with a soft voice, he said, "There's not much I can say, Peter. Sara's hurting bad. She and Anne have become very close. They talk almost every day, so I can tell you that she is hurting bad--real bad. There were a lot of mistakes in all this; it was handled terribly. She knows that. What that means now, though,...." He just shook his head.

"Did you ever find out who the other guy was?" I asked, not certain that I really wanted to know.

Todd vigorously shook his head. "Can't tell you. That's for Sara to talk about. Sorry."

"Probably for the best," I admitted. So, what can I do to convince her to sign off on this?"

"I don't know, man. I really don't know. Talk to her! Talk to Sara, man! You've got to each other." There was a note of sadness in Todd's voice. I suspected that Anne was not the only one who had become good friends with Sara. That actually made me feel good. She may have treated me like shit, but she was basically a good person. She deserved to have some support. Maybe she can learn a few things about what sucked in our marriage so that the next time she didn't make the same mistake.

After that short conversation about Sara, Todd begged off on the rest of the evening. He said he was exhausted from the flight and needed to get back to the hotel. I arranged to meet him at the ITI Financial Building Monday afternoon. Then I called him a cab and he left.

I had hoped that I could learn a little more from Todd about what was going on with Sara. From the way he spoke, I had assumed that he had quite a story. Just shows you what you get when you 'assume'. Well, at least Fin and I were no worse than we were before.

It felt good to work with Todd again. He was the only part of the move to ITI that I had regretted. It was good to know that I had a long-time friend working at the same place--someone with whom I could go out after work, have a beer or two, and talk sports.

His visit ended all too quickly. First thing Wednesday morning, Fin and I took Todd to Heathrow and sent him back to the States.

Todd's flight had no more lifted off the ground when my cell phone rang. It was my lawyer. Sara had finally signed off on the divorce. With luck, it would be finalized and signed in days. Then, a month later, I would be a free man.

Fiona detected the excitement in my voice and figured out what was going on. She became as excited and me, even though she hadn't even been officially told. As soon as I ended the call, I turned to her, dropped to a knee, and asked, "Fiona Kelly, will you be so kind as to marry me? I was thinking of the end of October--if you can fit that into your calendar."

"Hmmm," she began. "Tell you what." She paused to rub her baby bulge. "I'll have a little talk with Iain Peter and we'll get back to you."

"That's fine," I retorted. "You two take your time; I'll just wait here until you decide."

With a giggle, Fin took my hand and pulled me to my feet. Then she literally jumped into my arms. How I caught such an awkward shaped bundle, I have no idea. I don't expect the baby was nearly as thrilled with the maneuver as either his mom or dad were, either.

After showering me with kisses, Fiona said, "We both say yes!"

For the rest of the week, Fiona and her mother were on the phone constantly. It was decided that we would have the wedding near her parents' home in Bristol. Since I had very little family who might come, that was fine with me. My parents died several years ago in a winter car accident. My closest relative was an aging uncle and his wife. I'd invite them, but doubted that they would make the trip--even on my dime.

A week later, my lawyer told me that the divorce would be finalized on Friday, October 24. Fin immediately arranged with a little Methodist Church on the edge of Bristol to have the wedding on October 25.

With a wedding to be planned and five more months of pregnancy to deal with, Fin asked her uncle Ewan for a leave of absence. He gratefully agreed. I did too, until I realized that it would mean that she would be moving back to Bristol. I hated it, but it was only a month. I became very familiar with the ride along M-4 and found that I could make the distance in about two hours. Of course, I had ample motivation for making good time.

Fiona was absolutely gorgeous. Her hair was in a modified bob and glistened red. She was just over six months pregnant, but chose to wear a white gown anyway. I couldn't have been more proud of her--or more in love with her. The day was magical--as was our wedding night.

Because of the baby, we decided not to take an immediate honeymoon, but to plan something for summer. I was thinking of a week along the Spanish Riviera, but I said nothing to Fin. Our wedding night was spent at the St. David Hotel in Cardiff.

Though we returned to London the following day, I did take several days off just to enjoy time with my new wife. This was the beginning of the happiest time of my life. Unfortunately, work was waiting at the end of it, and like it or not, I needed to get back to it. Fiona resumed her duties at her new position at the ITI home office across town.

At 4:17 am on March 20, our family grew larger. Our healthy baby son came into the world with a might squall. Ten fingers. Ten toes. Strong pair of lungs. Good appetite, judging for the vigor with which he took his first meal. And a fuzzy head of red hair. One look at him, though, and it was clear that he was my son.

"What are you going to name him?" the nurse asked as she gave our son to his mother.

"Iain Peter," I started to reply.

Fin waved me off and said, "Our son will be named Peter Iain Miller."

I turned to Fin in shock.

"This wee thing needs to be named after his father," she whispered as she offered my son her breast. "I still want to honor my grandfather, but he should be named after his daddy, too."

If I thought the previous three months were bliss, life now approached heaven itself. Suddenly I begrudged ITI any of my time. If I had been given the opportunity, I would gladly have taken a leave of absence and become a full-time father. Not even the need to change a few very messy diapers stemmed my enthusiasm for caring for my son.

My son!

What a wonderful sound that was. I didn't even love Fin quite as much as I did my son! Thankfully, Fiona understood my feelings. She also agreed wholeheartedly. The baby became the center of our life, the point of all our activity, the focus of our existence.

* * * * * * * *

Ch. 03

Life for the Miller family was good. Peter Iain grew like a weed. Before he was nine months old, he was struggling to sit up. Shortly thereafter, he was trying to balance on two feet. He couldn't walk, of course, but don't try to tell him that. We were going to have our hands full with Peter Iain! This one knew what he wanted and was not about to take "no" for an answer.

A year after Peter Iain's birth, Fiona became pregnant again. Three people in our flat was tight, but four would likely require moving. Though there was no rush, we kept our eyes open, planning for the day next fall when a move would become mandatory.

Fin's second pregnancy was much more difficult than her first. At my urging, she took a leave of absence from her job. I took more time off to help around the house. When I was home, I took full responsibility for Peter Iain.

Then at the end of February, my life came crashing down around my head. I didn't know it at the time, but my world of bliss had ended.

It was a Friday afternoon and I was at work, struggling to get the details of a proposal completed before the weekend. I tried not to take any more work home with me than absolutely necessary, and with Fin's delicate condition, it became an even higher priority for me.

I grabbed the phone absently when it rang, anticipating new information to be plugged into the proposal. It was the hospital. Fin had been admitted.

By the time I got to the hospital, Fin had lost the baby. It was a crushing blow for her. I tried my best to comfort her and assure her that I still loved her but nothing I said seemed to help. Still, I knew that words might not help but my presence would. I snuggled her into my arms and just held her. She lay limp and unresponsive to anything I did.

After taking a few days off to recover, Fiona returned to work with a vigor I had not previously seen from her. She literally buried herself in her job. At the same time, I felt her slowly withdrawing from me emotionally. When I tried to talk with her about it, she at first denied it and later began taking my head off in angry disagreement.

Over the next few months she would ebb and flow from me like the tide; each time she would recede a little farther away from me. What hurt most was that she also retreated from Peter Iain. Peter Iain noticed that his mommy was missing in action.

Over the summer, I tried to talk her into going to counseling. I assured her that I would join her if necessary. Each conversation ended in a huge fight--each one worse than the one before. I was beside myself with worry.

Then at the end of August, a bank holiday gave us a long weekend. I tried to get Fiona to go away with me. Her folks would gladly take Peter Iain for us. Fiona flatly refused. Instead, she asked me if I would take care of the baby while she went off to Bristol without me. She assured me that she needed this time away from home to get her head screwed on straight.

"Things will be different when I get back. You'll see."

What was I to say? If it helped her, I was all for it. I agreed and looked forward to a long weekend doting on my son.

Fiona took the Friday before the long weekend off, and so Thursday evening after dinner, she headed off to Bristol. For Peter Iain and I, Friday was pretty much business as usual. I dropped him off at his nanny and headed off to work. Since Fin had taken our car, I had to hire a taxi.

At lunch I happened to see Ewan MacAdams. I explained our "bachelor weekend" and asked what he would suggest I should do with my son. He suggested the zoo. That sounded like just the thing for a curious 20 month old, but transportation was a problem. Ewan solved that by offering the use of one of his cars. I gladly accepted the offer and picked it up on my way home from work that afternoon.

On Saturday, I had a great day with my son. Like any small boy, the bigger the animal was the more enthralled he became. The big cats exhibit especially captivated him. Big kid that I am, I was enthralled by the Wallabies and Emus in the Outback exhibit, but try as I might, I could not get Peter Iain interested. He pulled me off to the komodo dragon instead.

By the end of the day, both of Fin's boys were exhausted. Though tired, Peter Iain was wound up to a fare-thee-well! I made dinner simple and then calmed him down by reading a long story from one of his favorite books.

I figured that Sunday we could just relax all day. Ewan and Paula invited us to dinner that evening and since I needed to return the car, dinner with the MacAdams' seemed like a quiet way to spend the holiday. It would better than the two of us spending the whole day alone.

I never made it to dinner.

At 3:05 that Sunday afternoon, I received a phone call from a hospital in Brighton. "Your wife and her friend have been in a very serious accident," the voice said. I was told were to find her, but little more.

I called Paula MacAdams and explained the emergency. She volunteered to take Peter Iain while Ewan rode with me to Brighton.

"But why would she be in Brighton, Peter? I thought you said she was taking a holiday with her folks in Bristol," Ewan asked as we headed out of town on M 23.

"I don't know, Ewan. She was supposed to be with her folks."

"Have you rung them yet?"

"Shit!" I cursed as I pulled out my cell phone.

"Peter! What a surprise!" my father-in-law responded when he heard my voice. "How is that grandson of mine and when are you and his mum going to bring the lad up for a visit?"

That did not sound like the response of a man who had spent the weekend with his daughter. "Andy," I began cautiously, "did Fiona visit you this weekend?"

A long silence followed. "No," he said in a subdued voice. "Was she supposed to?"

"Long story and I don't yet know all of it. I just wanted you to know that she and her friend are in the hospital in Brighton." I told him all the information the hospital official had shared with me.

"What was she doing in Brighton, Peter? And who was the friend she was with?"

I choked back a tear. "I don't know, Andy. I just don't know."

"We'll be there as soon as we can, Peter."

Until Fin's father put voice to the question, I had successfully avoided even thinking it. What was Fin doing in Brighton? And who was she doing it with? I had an empty feeling at the pit of my stomach and it was quickly being filled with a swarm of butterflies.

"Who was she with, Ewan? Do you have any ideas?"

"No, Peter, I don't--but I have my fears."

Ewan's silence after that comment was maddening. "Talk to me, Ewan. You're killing me here."

"There were rumors of an inner-office relationship between Fiona and--another man. But, that was before you arrived on the scene. There has been absolutely nothing since. Besides, he now works in another division from Fiona. They would have had no chance to be together."

I gasped back my tears, wiping the moisture from my eyes.

"Like as not it's one of her girl friends."

Ewan dropped me off as close to the door as he could and then went to park the car. I literally raced through the hospital until I found the Intensive Care Unit. A staff of nurses and technicians met me and shuttled me into a consultation room. A few minutes later, both Ewan and the doctor arrived.

"Mr. Miller, thank you for coming so quickly. I won't take much time, but I wanted you to know how serious your wife's condition is. At present, it is touch and go. We'll know more in the next 24 hours."

"What happened to her, doctor?"

He waved off my question. "I know you have a great many questions, and there will be time for all of them later. Now, you need to worry about Mrs. Miller's condition. She is critical. The car was going at a very high speed and rolled several times. Mrs. Miller has a variety of broken bones, three broken ribs and a punctured lung. Several internal organs were injured, but our greatest worry is for her head. She has sustained a very serious trauma to the head.

I gasped in shock. "Will she survive?"

The doctor grimaced. "I can't say for sure. Like I said, it's touch and go. Her friend--Mr. Wilkinson--did not make it. He died instantly."

"Ken Wilkinson?" Ewan gasped.

The doctor nodded.

Ken Wilkinson. Now I had a name. He was the head of accounting at ITI Financial--Fiona's old boss. Married. Three kids. Salt of the earth kind of guy--or so I thought.

"When can I see Fin?" I interjected.

"Now, if you'd like. Just don't disturb her any more than absolutely necessary."

With fear and trepidation, I allowed a nurse to escort me to Fiona's room. Even with all of the preparation by the doctor, I was not ready for what I saw. Fin seemed buried in a sea of machines. Her head was wrapped in a bandage and it was clear that her hair had been shaved on one side. Worst of all, he was totally inert. The only noise in the room was the slow and regular sounds of the machines.

I whispered my love for her, but I wasn't certain I believed it at the moment. If my suspicions were true, then Fin and I had a long way to go before I could ever say I loved her. I wasn't even sure I even wanted to take that journey, but for Peter Iain I might need to make the attempt.

Fiona never moved. I gently stroked her cheek, but felt no response.

"O God, Fin!" I whispered to myself, hoping she couldn't hear me. "What have you done?"

A few moments later, a nurse came in with a chair for me. "Won't I be in the way?" I asked.

"Just don't disturb her any more than necessary." She started to leave, but then went to a cupboard. "Oh, her purse was left here when she was brought in. And here are the other things she was wearing when she came in. Her clothes, of course, could not be salvaged."

I held a tiny bag containing a necklace I had given Fin on her last birthday. The matching pair of earrings was also there, but there was no sign of her wedding ring or her diamond engagement ring. When I asked, the nurse said that she had not been wearing them.

Figures.

I didn't want to look through Fin's purse for fear of what I might find. In the end, I didn't have to. Tucked into the outside pocket was an envelope with a key card for a local hotel.

I later found her engagement ring and wedding band tucked in the corner pocket of her suitcase. She and Ken had been keeping company at a motel near the waterfront.

I sat staring at the motionless form of my wife, wondering how we had come to this point. Now I had been the victim of two cheating wives. What was it about me that encouraged that behavior from those who claimed to love me?

"Peter?"

The voice from the door woke me from my morose reverie. "Ewan sent us down. How is she?"

"Not good, Andy." I forced a smile to my wife's parents.

"Any idea what happened?"

I simply shook my head. "Why don't I give you and Beth some time alone with your daughter?"

With slow resignation, I made my way to the waiting room. I found Ewan just hanging up the phone. He gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "What a mess!" he whispered. "How is she?"

I shook my head. I couldn't even bring the words to my lips. "Only time will tell." It was as close as I could come to saying what I feared.

"I just spoke with someone in Accounting who always knows the latest gossip," Ewan offered. "I don't know if it is any comfort, but I doubt that it has been going on long. As a matter of fact, this might have been a one off for them."

It didn't help. Not one bit. I wanted my wife back--my Fin--not that stupid women in the bed. The butterfly-filled spot in my stomach came alive again and Ewan led me to a comfortable chair in the waiting room.

*****

Fin did not survive the night. It was shortly after midnight when I was awakened from a restless nap. Her injuries were just too severe. I was a widower and my son was missing a mother. What a pile of shit life had become.

September 5 joined the growing list of significant days during my British sojourn. That was the day I buried my wife--my son's mother. It was the most difficult day I had ever live. It was far worse than anything Sara had left in her wake. We shared very few of the actual detail behind the accident. We left it that Fiona had been on holiday and died in a tragic accident. No one seemed to connect her death with that of Ken Wilkinson. If they did, they said nothing.

My heart went out of my job. I merely went through the motions. The only focus of my life was Peter Iain and I clung to him the best I could. Now I was the one who needed counseling. Fortunately, I took my own advice and scheduled a weekly appointment. Ewan and Paula did their best to draw me back out of my shell. They had only minor success. Peter Iain enjoyed the effort, however.

Andy and Beth Kelly disappeared from my world. They tried to connect with their grandson, but I suspected that they blamed me for Fiona's death. Deep down, I believed that they blamed me. Truth was, I wasn't sure that they weren't right. After all, I had managed to do it with two wives. There must have been something wrong with me. Since the Kelly's had to go through me to get to Peter Iain, they left him alone. I hurt for my son.