Feb. Sucks - In Milwaukee Pt. 02

"You know, I thought at least we had an understanding Friday night that you would take that cab home. That could have saved your marriage, and it would have saved four lives and your leg. Do you understand? Four lives lost because of your selfishness. You could have kept the life that you knew, and I always thought you wanted as much as I did. Instead, you blew me off, blew off the cab, for all I know you blew Asshole, blew through a red light, and now you are here. I tried. The only thing different I could have done to stop this insanity would have been to drive over to Asshole's house and put a hollow point right in his brain. But, I wouldn't have stopped with him, if you catch my drift."

"I'm so sorry, Jim."

"Sorry you actually did what you did, or just sorry for the way things turned out?"

"I'm sorry...so sorry... that you are hurt"

"You will have to do better than that. I can't help you until you take responsibility for everything you did that Friday and Saturday. You need to be sorry, very sorry that you did this. You need to say it to our children as well as to me. And somewhere down the line you will have to say you are sorry to Nick Walker."

"Who is Nick Walker?"

"The 28 year old man you and Asshole made a widower on Saturday. Sure was fun to ride in a Lamborghini, wasn't it?"

Linda sobbed, but could not answer.

Jim's voice went up a couple notches in volume. "Nicest car you have ever been in, right? You are sorry that my feelings got hurt, but you cannot say you are sorry for what you did to me Friday night? Can you at least say you are sorry for what you did to Nick Walker? You changed his life even worse than you changed mine."

"Oh my God, nooooo."

"Yes, you and Dee cooked up quite a plan, but you know -- the best laid plans, etc., etc. You are such a fucking sucker. Dee was just pimping you out to Asshole not for your enjoyment, but so that she could get another taste. Maybe by "Date 4" you'd be so hooked on X and cocaine you would be ready to pull a train of 10-20 football players. That's where this was headed all along. Of course, you didn't know the big picture, but Dee and Asshole did.

"I saw you drowning and I threw you a big yellow life preserver, but you wouldn't take it. And now, look where you are. I thought I gave you a clear message that if you came home immediately, we could at least start talking and maybe work things out. But while I was trying to figure out how to save this relationship -- this marriage -- this family--you just had to have a few more fucks and more dope, so here we are...I can't talk about this any longer. I'm dead tired and I'm going home. I WILL be here tomorrow, and you know I always keep MY promises."

Jim said one more thing to her, "I once loved you, Linda. Remember that always. But I don't think love is enough this time."

He turned around to avoid her, but heard a soft and whimpering, "I love you Jim." He walked out the door and down the long hospital hallway. He asked the nurse to check up on Linda as she seems upset and maybe she will need something to sleep. Sleep would be better for her than brooding over something she cannot fix. That no one can fix. Then Jim wondered why he even cared.

Starting up his car, the radio came on -- it was still turned to the oldies station.

It must have been love

But it's over now...

It must have been good

But I lost it somehow...

All of a sudden, Jim could not drive. Between having to talk to Linda and this sappy song, he felt a block wall was caving in on him. He thought to himself, "Friday night I wanted both Linda and Asshole to die a horrible death. But the reality of the accident is a strange thing for me to wrap my head around. If the crash hadn't happened and she came home on Saturday as she planned, still glowing from her 'experience,' I would have divorced her -- and quick.

"Now, it's not that easy. That Friday night and into Saturday morning I hated her. The crash took most of the steam out of my hatred. Now I feel sorry for her and I keep putting myself in her place -- what if I was in a hospital bed without one leg and my world had instantly changed? But she has never put herself in my place. She never considered how I would feel when she left me. Who the hell does that to someone they love? But I will not abandon her. It's not the way I am to do that. Will I ever love her again? Probably not, certainly not the way I loved her before. Why in the hell do I give a damn at all?"

The next day Jim drove over to his parent's house. They could all have breakfast together and then he would take Tommy and Emma to the hospital to see their mom. After they finished clearing the breakfast table, Jim's dad said he had something to show Jim in the garage. Jim knew he just really wanted to talk.

"I can't imagine how you feel right now, but if I were in your shoes, it would be a hard call -- it's not just the two of you, you know, there are four. There's almost 15 years of marriage, balanced against one night, but it was one shit load of a night. Is that one night so bad it out weighs those 14+ years? Or are 14+ very good years and two wonderful children more significant than 18 hours of pure hell? She can deny a lot but she can never deny that she changed everything in your world."

"As always, you have it all figured out, Dad. I made my decision. I will take her home and provide the best care possible, get her back to some sense of normal, maybe back to teaching. I'm guessing at least a year -- maybe longer and then I can make my own plans. Plus, in a year, the kids will be that much closer to college. I've had enough changes handed to me lately, no need to add any more right away."

When Jim arrived back at the hospital with Tommy and Emma, Linda was sleeping, but she gradually woke up and sat up as soon as she noticed the kids were with Jim. She was elated to see them and they were happy to be with their mom. They had lots of things to tell her about, but for now, at least, they had their mother back and they were happy. Jim was at least happy the kids were happy.

Linda brought up the scuttled vacation to Hawaii and asked if they could still take that trip someday. Jim's first impulse was to say he had already re-booked the trip and they would leave on the morning of "when Hell freezes over," but he quickly calmed down.

"Not this summer, but when you are better we'll see.

Jim thought, "Mustering up the courage to bring that up must have taken a lot out of her...she looks tired."

As they all said their goodbyes, Jim leaned over to Linda, "I promise I will be back tomorrow, and I KEEP my promises." A little tear rolled down her cheek.

The next few days were very routine. Jim had to spend days and especially his nights with his thoughts, which alternated between hopeful and dark, and worry about the future. On Saturday, Emma and Tommy wanted to spend as much of the day with their mother as they could. The kids picked a bouquet of paper whites out of Linda's garden and they made a large, handmade get well card. Linda cried when they gave them to her. It was just one of those nice "little" days that you remember all your life. When Jim could see Linda getting tired again, they said their goodbyes. Jim hugged Linda and she gave him a weak hug back.

"See you tomorrow, Sweetie." Jim realized it was the first term of affection he had used with her since this mess started.

Sunday after church, Jim and the kids and Linda's parents spent most of the day and early evening at the hospital. Linda spent part of her time visiting, but a good part of the day sleeping. Monday and Tuesday were more of the same.

About 3:30 am Wednesday, Jim's cell started ringing. It is never good news when the phone rings in the middle of the night.

"Mr. Carlson, this is Nancy Osborne, I'm an RN at Lutheran Memorial. I'm sorry to call you at this hour, but your wife's condition is declining rapidly."

"How bad is it?"

"She may only have a few hours or even less."

"I'll be there ASAP."

Hanging up the phone, Jim couldn't help thinking, "God, what are you going to throw at me next?"

He was glad the kids had spent the night with him and quickly woke them up, thinking that if this was what he feared it was, they will need a chance to say goodbye. Everyone threw on clothes, and as the kids were brushing their teeth, Jim called Linda's parents, and then his own.

Without seriously breaking any laws, Jim got them to the hospital in record time. They ran up to the nurses' station to find Nurse Osborne. She said that Linda had suffered a massive heart seizure. The doctors brought her back, but her organs were shutting down.

Jim, Emma and Tommy held Linda's hands and Linda's parents soon joined them. This time the nurses were not sticklers for the rules -- more family was the only medicine that could help at this point. Jim's parents came in and each kissed Linda's forehead or cheek, and then went down to the family waiting area.

Over the next three and a half hours, they talked to Linda, prayed for Linda, forgave Linda. All of the anger that Jim had built up was gone, replaced by pity, sadness, nagging questions and "what ifs." The kids and both sets of parents were all cried out by the time Linda's vital signs rapidly declined and she was gone. The nurse turned off the monitors and that dammed beep stopped for good.

How long does it take for your life to go from happy and loving to sheer despair? In Jim's case, it was just over two weeks. That's all it took.

"My sweet, wonderful Linda. Almost 15 years married -- 17 together total. Seventeen magical years, then one horrible night, followed by two weeks of hell. How does that balance out?"

The family sat with her, said their goodbyes, some out loud, some silently. Emma and Tommy cried and said they missed their mommy already. Emma tried to be strong for her younger brother the whole time. After an hour or so, Jim got up. He kissed Linda for the last time and told her he loved her, he forgave her and he was truly sorry for her. He whispered in her ear, "Goodnight, Sweetie," just like he had every night since they had been together, up until that Friday night.

Before they he left the hospital for the last time, Jim made a few calls. He

called some of his and Linda's friends and told them he would let them know the plans -- it was too early to make any decisions. He checked in with his boss and let him know that Linda had passed and he would keep in touch about schedules. He called the principal at Linda's school as well. She said they would hold a memorial at the school for her in a few weeks.

He had one more phone call to make -- Dee. She answered on the third ring.

"Dee -- Linda's gone. For the rest of your sorry life, think about what did to her, to me, to all of us." Before she could answer, he hung up. She called back 20 times, but Jim let them all go to voice mail.

By this time, it was almost 10:00 am and everyone was beat, but not tired enough to go back to bed, so they all went to breakfast -- Jim, Emma, Tommy and both sets of parents. Surprisingly, the moment was not dark and morose. Before too long, they were all telling stories about good times, silly things that happened and what Linda meant to each one of them.

When it came time to leave, Jim asked Linda's parents if they would go with him to the mortuary the next day. He and Linda had never talked much about their "final wishes," not anticipating this day for a long time. In the end, Jim and Linda's parents decided on cremation -- Jim didn't want to bury her in the mangled state she left this Earth. Better to free her of all her hurts.

Jim and the kids came back to an empty and very quiet house that afternoon. There were dozens of messages on the house phone to return. The kids went to take a nap and Jim slumped down in his favorite chair. Now, he was glad he resisted the temptation to trash the house the night he came back from the Madison. There was sadness, but also comfort in the mementos Linda had happily placed around the house over the years. Jim's parents came over and they talked well past midnight. He was glad for the company, but after they left, the loneliness started to get to him in a big way.

Jim thought, "It's funny, if Linda were still alive, and the accident had never happened I would hate her and I might never be able to forgive. We would probably be starting a messy divorce. Even if some marriage therapist waved a magic wand and we could got together again, I would be afraid that every time we made love, she would be imagining HIM inside of her, not me. If she tried anything different in bed, I wouldn't know if it came from Cosmo or Asshole. If she were still alive, but with Asshole instead of me, I would be raging inside, and I would always be battling to keep it under control -- a shitty way to live, but in the end, I guess Linda saved me."

The next few weeks were busy. They had a small service at the house for the family and just a few close friends -- Dave was the only one of the friends from that night at Morrison's who was invited. Linda loved her little garden in the back yard so much; Jim, Emma and Tommy decided to spread Linda's ashes there. She would always be somewhere she truly enjoyed. Instead of a marker, they put up two small Solari bells that would lightly chime whenever the breeze came up. Linda's school had a memorial service on the last day before Spring break. Several hundred parents, fellow teachers, past and present students and many others who knew Linda came to pay their respects. Once this was all over, it got very quiet in the Carlson household.

There was no public ceremony for Marc LaValliere. While he was alive, he always thought that if he died in his prime, the whole city would be mourning..

His jersey would be retired; there would be a statue at the stadium and maybe a memorial issue of Sports Illustrated. Think Kobe Bryant. That didn't happen. The high-speed crash that killed an innocent mother and her child wiped LaValliere's name from the official history of the NFL's Sharks!

Jim got back to work and poured everything he had into it. He worked extra hours on several investigative stories besides his regular newscasts. But it was lonely in the house. Whatever anger Jim had about Linda just morphed into sadness. The kids helped -- Jim would admit they saved him. As they got older, they appreciated their dad being there for games, school plays, campouts, and the occasional weekend getaway.

Because Jim did not get home until well after dinner during the week, he hired a nanny/tutor for Emma and Tom. Heidi was blonde and beautiful and 20 years old. She was born in Heidelberg, Germany and came to the USA with her parents when she was only two. She had a radiant personality, just a hint of a German accent and a beautiful smile. The kids absolutely loved her. Jim did too, but he told himself it was only in a paternal sort of way, but she soon became an important part of the family.

The loneliness stayed with Jim in the house, and even though he couldn't stay mad at Linda, he still couldn't stand anything to do with the Sharks, especially Asshole's teammates who kept him from saving Linda that night. He felt the team's culture was partly to blame for what happened. Once he had his wits about him again, Jim got busy on his plan for the future. He couldn't get to Asshole, but he could get to his estate and he could get a pound of flesh from the team. Jim had Dan file lawsuits on behalf of both Jim and Nick Walker against the LaValliere estate over the crash. Jim paid all of the out of pocket costs and the court fees for the Walker family. Jim had become friends of a sort with Nick and he decided not to sue Linda's estate. The process took some time and lots of hoops to jump through, but ultimately, the trustee for LaValliere gave in and authorized eight figure settlements for both families. Each of the goon friends had to pony up $500K to settle.

The Sharks' owners put up the biggest fight. Jim claimed the team looked the other way when it came to the morals clauses in their contracts, but public opinion started to turn against them and they eventually settled without a court fight. A series of stories in the Journal Sentinel on LaValliere's philandering helped sway the team owners to see the light. Jim received calls from other husbands who lost their marriages on account of LaValliere over the years.

There were husbands from Milwaukee, Philadelphia, Charlotte and Cleveland, and more from almost every other NFL city where LaValliere had ever played an away game. Most of the couples had divorced soon after LaValliere had his way with their wives, some tried to make a go of their marriages but ultimately failed. Most of the wives, once they became addicted to fame, party drugs and enormous cocks, were no longer fulfilled by their hardworking, loyal, and faithful husbands. Three husbands and two wives committed suicide, and tragically, there was one murder-suicide, all of this hush-hushed by the teams, the league and sports media. Dan and the other attorneys did a great job and won substantial settlements for everybody. Jim always said that he would trade all the settlement money for a chance to turn back the clock.

All the husbands who were at Morrison's February 29th eventually divorced their wives. Dee and Dave were the first to split, but eventually each of the guys hired PI's and every one of their spouses were caught cheating. Just a year later, Dee died of a drug overdose, along with her boyfriend, a college basketball standout at Michigan State. They snorted some fentanyl-laced cocaine one night in a Quality Inn in East Lansing. Dave didn't come to her funeral. He had transferred to the Tampa office of his company and met a wonderful woman who wanted to start a family and hated pro football. The last time Dave and Jim talked on the phone, Dave said, "Dee's headstone should read, 'What's the big deal? It was only one night!'"

Emma first brought up the idea that the family should move. "All of our best friends have moved away because their parents divorced, and a lot of kids and adults here treat us weird because of our mom. The boys on our football team bother me constantly. They all seem to think because Mom spread her legs for a jock, that I will too. And I'm afraid of what you might do to any of them if you ever heard some of the things they call me."

One Saturday, Jim was in the mall shopping for a birthday present for Emma. Shopping was something Linda always took care of, and Jim was having a hard time visualizing what Emma would want and worrying about picking the right thing when he heard a familiar voice, "Hey Mr. Jim!!!" It was Heidi, the only person who ever called him Mr. Jim, accompanied by another woman who appeared to be a bit older but just as blonde, beautiful and Germanic looking.

"Heidi, I was just thinking I could use your help finding a present for Emma, and here you are. I won't take too much of your time...I see you are with your friend."

"Mr. Jim, I'm happy to help anytime, especially if it's for Emma. And my friend is actually my mother. Mom, this is Mr. Jim, Jim Carlson, I should say. Mr. Jim, I would like to introduce you to my other hero in life, my mom, Annalise Brockmueller. She watches you EVERY night on the news!"

"I'm so pleased to meet you, Annalise...Oh, can I call you Annalise?"

"You certainly may, as long as I can call you Jim." Heidi's mother thought to herself, "what I really want to call him is Schatzie! Now I know why Heidi is so happy to work at the Carlson home -- this man is an absolute hunk!"

"Do you ladies have time for coffee? There is a Starbucks right here in the mall."

An hour and a half later, Jim knew that Annalise was 39 and was also widowed. Her late husband Kurt was 15 years older than she was and died in a light plane crash just four years after they were married, so Annalise took on the role of running a single parent household. She worked as HR manager at a regional office for the Aldi stores, so her German still came in handy. Jim's German was spotty, but he still remembered a little from when he was stationed near Heidelberg, which just happened to be Annalise's hometown. And, it turned out, Annalise's father had retired as the braumeister at the old Heidelberg Schlossquell Brauerei. They spent the next hour back and forth talking about what they remembered about Heidelberg.