CARMEN ADAIR lives near Seattle where she is rediscovering her love for writing and having the time of her life.

                                                           my own eyes


I peer into the mirror and re-touch my lipstick. In an attempt to salvage my dignity, I have purchased a brand new outfit for this occasion. I smooth the edges of my sharp, black blazer and wonder why I ever agreed to this meeting.

But I know the reason. It's because I have to see this with my own eyes. Last month, the heart attack put a permanent end to my Jacob's philandering ways. For years, I refused to acknowledge just how far he carried these affairs of his. My ignorance built walls of protection, and I sheltered myself within this stronghold. Her phone call two weeks ago had swung a wrecking ball squarely through my house of self-defense.

"Mrs. Daniels..." her voice pleaded. "I didn't get to speak to him before he died. I just want some answers."

Answers...I probably had more questions than she did. The only real answer I had was that he was my husband. I straightened my hair in the mirror. Whatever happened next, I still had my position, and I was determined to put forth an appropriate appearance. I turned to leave the bathroom and walk down to the table I had reserved.

Damn you, Jacob! How could you have done this to me? Wasn't it enough that you strayed the way you did? Couldn't you have been more careful? Now you've left behind this woman...this situation...how will I ever hold my head up again?

I found the photograph in his desk drawer after his death. Jacob was always drawn by long, curly hair. The letters and the bank account ledger hidden further back in the drawer revealed the extent of the relationship, although I still couldn't fully accept it. If I were to acknowledge this secret life of his, it would mean my husband was really a stranger to me.

How could I ever admit that my entire marriage had been a lie? My husband had been carrying on with another woman for years. She wasn't the first, I realized that now, but she was the only one he had gotten this involved with. How could he have done this to me? As I sat waiting for this woman to arrive, I laughed out loud as I was struck with the realization that she must be thinking the exact same thing.

I looked up and saw her approaching. She looked remarkably similar to the photograph, although her hair was straight and quite a bit shorter. I stood up and held my hand out to greet her.

She took my hand in hers, and I noticed that she had Jacob's nose. There were tears streaming down her face.

"Mrs. Daniels," her voice trembled. "I never really knew him."

I took the hand of my husband's child in mine and felt an unexpected kinship. My vision was complete, and the final barrier to verity collapsed.

"Well, my dear, it seems that neither did I."

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Copyright © 2003 Carmen Adair