It Happened on Maple Street

And I’d love to see the letters I sent from Armstrong. I have such mixed emotions about that time in my life. That’s where I met James. So much for safety and security at this little cloistered church school!

I remember that day you came to the house. I remember being so confused and feeling trapped by everything. Everyone wanted something from me, expected things from me, and I was so lost. I was struggling to put one foot in front of the other. I was trying so hard to do what I thought was right. I think the fact that I agreed to see you was very telling.

I’m very very sorry I hurt you. It was not knowingly. I had no idea how much you honestly cared. I wish I’d known. I really thought you were prompted by a part of your anatomy a little farther down than the heart. If it gives you any sense of justice, I suffered hugely. The universe didn’t let me hurt someone and run off into the sunset.

Tara

And as soon as I finished the note to Tim, I sent out an S.O.S. to my two closest writer friends.

“I’m in over my head,” I wrote to them. I told them about Tim. About the past two days. And I asked them if I was making a mistake. If I was doing something wrong. If I was being selfish. After all, Chris and I had just signed divorce papers. I wasn’t even moved out of his house yet.

In just moments I heard back.

Tara,

You are separated. You should be divorced. But you ARE definitely separated. You can do any damn thing you want to do, including having conversations with an old college friend.

That definitely does NOT make you selfish. You have stuck with Chris far longer than he deserves, and he has abused and misused you emotionally. You deserve to feel special . . .

And in the same batch of mail was a one-line note from Tim.

Finally, Tara has arrived! Welcome, glad you could join me.

Tim

He was pushing me. I was tense. Scared. And so driven to connect with him that I couldn’t listen to reason. I didn’t answer him, either. And a couple of hours later, I heard from him again.

Okay, you’re in the pool with no life preserver. Start swimming! I finally got to look a little deeper inside your life. Can I hear more about your relationship with James? Did you guys have any good moments?

Tim

Tim didn’t really want to hear about James. He wanted to know her, and he was frustrated as hell. The epistles she was sending him were a smokescreen. One that was easy for him to see through.

The

re were things she wasn’t telling him, and if they were going to have half a hope of making it this time, he had to know what those things were.

Making it this time?

Was he really considering the idea that he and Tara had a future together?

Tim asked the question, but he already knew the answer. He’d lost twenty-seven years of his life for needing this woman. He couldn’t let her just slip away again.

And it wasn’t just his own need that drove him. He could feel Tara’s pain between the lines of her letters. He had to help.

But first he had to get her to tell him what he was helping with.

He watched for her response to his challenge. And read it as soon as it came through.

I don’t speak about James. He’s never mentioned in my presence. Ever. Not by anyone. My mother and I have never spoken about him since the whole thing happened. Even my husband, Chris, never knew a thing about him. If there’s something specific you’d like to know about him, ask. I can’t just brainstorm him. I suppose there must have been good moments. I can’t remember any.

Tara

It wasn’t enough. Not nearly. His fingers tripped over themselves as he typed.

What the hell? Her husband?

Okay, you’re floating, not swimming! Put your head under the water and get wet all over! First of all, I thought you and James were married. I didn’t realize that there was someone else! Can you talk about that? Also, what is your situation now??????????? I’m confused. I’ve been waiting for you to tell me all this.