Chapter 14: When Love Is Not Enough
#14 of All In the Family
Chapter 14: When Love Is Not Enough
That morning, for the first time in years, John and Debra sat down and had a real conversation. With Tammy over at a friend's and David god only knew where (so long as he wasn't in the house, John said in relief), the heads of the Harris household boiled water, and over fresh coffee, sat weary and wretched in the midst of their chaotic dining hall. Scrambled eggs, orange juice, bacon, half-eaten pancakes, and shattered glass dripping with brown dregs of coffee littered the floor. It was a vast dining hall, white walls and white floors, with a large chandelier reaching from the ceiling and candles in golden holders on the walls. In the center of the dining hall stretched the glass table, still stained with that morning's wild dispute as the baffled maid, in a teeny black skirt and high heels, clicked across the hard floor to make the mess disappear as fast as possible.
Nursing his cup of coffee, John sat with his head bowed and his tousled mane in his eyes. He could smell Debra sitting near, the soft scent of her perfume, her downy white fur, even the powdery scent of her make up. She cleared her throat and kept sniffling, and he felt a pang to hear those sniffles: he hated anytime Debra cried. Without looking up, he slid his paw across the table and closed it over Debra's. He was glad when her fingers squeezed his own.
"I do love you, you know," John muttered to his coffee. He realized with another pang that her finger was free of her wedding ring. He spread her little fingers on his palm and their nakedness stung him.
"I know, John," Debra whispered, her voice still muffled with tears. "But sometimes, baby, love isn't enough."
John looked up quickly. "What are you saying?" he demanded, peering sadly into her face.
Debra shook her head, her soft white mane shifting around her ears, her earrings clinking softly in the fingers of sunlight reaching in. "Oh, John," she said, her long lashes fluttering furiously. "If you really loved me, you'd be honest with me! And you'd be honest with yourself." She took her paw from his and instead cradled her cup, on the verge of more bitter tears.
John eyed Debra as sadly as before. "Baby . . . you don't really think I'm . . .? I fucked Tammy for god's sake!" he burst angrily.
Debra shook her head. "Only to feel straight, John, not because you are!"
"I can't believe what I'm hearing! Debbie, are you saying I'm --?"
"Are you?" Debra asked quietly. Her green eyes locked hard on her husband's face. She had asked the question not because she wanted to be convinced, but because she wanted John to face reality for once in his life. She knew John. And knew him well. Had worked with him for years at his firm. He was a wolf who liked to pretend. John was ashamed of his sexuality, so rather than give in to his desires, he had created a fantasy world for himself, a world where he could feel straight, accepted, "normal." So he married Sharon, his high school sweetheart. He married her and played the part of loving father, loving husband, a hardworking male who guided and provided. But the truth began to slip through the cracks, and it wasn't long before Sharon grew tired of pretending. Looking at John now, Debra was beginning to realize that she was tired of pretending too.
"How many males have you been with?" Debra said, still looking hard at her husband. "How many have you come home reeking of?" Her pretty lip curled, glossy from her crying.
John glanced up at her with flashing eyes. "Typical. Of course you'd think I'd fuck around with a bunch of - it was just the one!" he snapped, his grip suddenly tight on his coffee. "Just . . . the one . . ." The words died on his lips as he realized: he'd pretty much just admitted he was gay.
Debra nodded as if she wasn't surprised. But she demanded miserably, "Then why not be with him? Why hold on to me? Why keep lying to me, why keep pretending? You're not just hurting yourself by doing this, baby, you're hurting everyone around you!"
John looked away, but Debra grabbed his face and made him listen.
"I married you," she said fiercely, gazing with bright eyes into his face, "because I thought I could provide a stable home for Tammy with you! I thought I had finally found my daughter a father! I thought my days of arguing and throwing glasses and setting a bad example for my daughter were over! But when I married you, I only fucked Tammy up more! I'm a terrible mother, John! And that's thanks in part to you - to you and your lies!" She pushed John's face from her slender fingers and glared at her coffee.
"Maybe I did use you to feel straight," John admitted miserably after a pause. "But I really did love you, Deb. I really cared about you. When everything was falling apart with Sharon, I always had you to talk to. You were always there, and I loved you for that. You were the best friend I could hope for in those days. I . . . I never felt so close to anyone."
"And I believe you, John. But you can't go on using me like this. I refuse to spend the rest of my life being your pity fuck."
Debra rose suddenly, and John looked up at her quickly.
"Debra! I never fucked you out of pity --"
"No, I fucked you out of pity, John! That first time I saw you cry over Sharon, remember that? You were sitting behind your desk. You'd just gotten off the phone with her. I came in to bring you coffee and you had tears in your eyes. I stayed with you after work, listening to you talk about your life and your marriage --"
"And we made love on my desk. It was the first time." John smiled sadly at his coffee.
"I thought I loved you," Debra admitted, still standing over John. She touched his mane fondly as she added, "And I thought you loved me, that you would marry me and together we would pull our lives out of the mud. For some stupid reason, I thought marrying you would solve all my problems. Get Tammy a good male for a father, give the two of us a happy home, take . . . my loneliness away."
Hearing the sad note in Debra's voice, John glanced up anxiously. He pulled her hips to him in a tight hug and closing his eyes, pressed his forehead to her slender belly. He could feel her fingers still curling soothingly in his mane. He pressed a kiss to her thigh and she laughed sadly.
"I'm sorry, Debra," John whispered. He felt a tear escape when she hugged his head tight and replied sadly, "Me too, John. I'm filing for divorce."