Expectations (by Nancy Allen)

Expectations

She expected to have her husband home for dinner where he would play with their one and a half and three year old boys before helping tuck them into bed. But night after night he drug in after the boys were in bed. His excuse was he needed to check on the ‘after hours’ activities of his men. He, after all, was their company commander.                                                                                                                                                She expected Saturday would be a time for family fun, but he and a friend went fishing. As night closed in and he was not home, her blood began to boil.  She decided to take the children and go to a movie. This time she would not be there when he came home.  She called the wife of her husband’s  fishing buddy. “Do you want to go to a movie with me?” she asked.                                                                                               “No, I can’t go. Pete just arrived home with a string of fish and he’s cleaning them now. I’m cooking the fish for dinner.”                                                                                                                                                                 “Pete’s home?”                                                                                                                                                                                “Yes, he’s been home for half an hour, isn’t your husband home?                                                                            “No, I don’t know where he is. I’m going to take the boys and go to the drive-in. For once when he gets home, I won’t be here.”                                                                                                                                                                     “No, that’s a bad idea. It’s beginning to rain and I don’t think it’s safe for you and the boys to be out there alone.”                                                                                                                                                                                     “I have to do something. I can’t stay here.”                                                                                                                         “Come over here. If you have to be gone when he gets home, you can call and when he answers you can hang up. Then you’ll know he’s home and you can go home.”                                                                                       “Well, ok, that sounds like a plan.”                                                                                                                                           She bundled up the boys and went to her friend’s house. Phone call after phone call, ring after ring—no answer.                                                                                                                                                                                                “It’s eleven o’clock. I can’t keep you up any longer and no matter what he does, I’m the adult here. I have to take my children home and get them into bed,” she said.                                                                                         By then the rain was coming down sideways, in sheets. It was hard to see the road but as she pulled into the driveway the headlights caught the form of a muddy, drenched man holding the hill of his boot in one hand and an iron bar in the other. He was set to break the bedroom window.  He looked up, staring into the headlights, laid the bar down and with water dripping off his face  walked over to the car. She lowered the window and looked up at him.                                                                                                           “Where have you been?” he said, “I’ve been worried. I didn’t know what had happened. The phone has been ringing off the hook. ”                                                                                                                                         “Why didn’t you go inside? Why are you out here in the rain?“ she asked.                                                 “I forgot my key,” he said. “What’s wrong? Did one of the boys get sick?”                                             “No, I just went over to a friend’s house,” she said.                                                                                                   “Hand me the key,” he said.                                                                                                                                                                 She handed him the key without saying word.  She said she could hear the water slushing in his boots as he stormed into the house.