Twenty Four Weeks - Episode 23 - "Thirty Four" (PG) by James David Denisson
Twenty Four Weeks – Episode 23 – “Thirty Four”
Written by J.D.Denisson.
A sequel to the movie “This is Where I Leave You”.
Characters and back story based on the novel “This is Where I Leave You” by Jonathan Tropper.
Copyright 2016 J.D.Denisson.
Previously…
After the first session Grant saw us and approached, spoke our names. He looks at Wade and I don’t know if he’s aware who he is, if he does he keeps it from his face.
“This is my friend, Wade,” I say, “and his wife, Chloe.”
“Ah,” Grant says with a smile. “Glad you could come. How are you finding it.”
“Very informative,” Wade says in that way of his that communicates the opposite without you being aware of it. I’ve heard it a million times.
But Chloe is more genuine. “I’m so glad to be here,” she says. “All these wonderful people.”
“How long have you been married?”
Chloe takes Wade’s arm and giggles a little. “Three weeks.”
“Well, it’s wonderful that you’re committed to each other enough to start working on you marriage this early. I hope you learn some things from the others later.”
“What’s happening later?”
“People will be telling their stories.”
“I’d love to hear that.”
“You have a story too. I’m sure it’s worth telling.”
“It’ll be a short story,” Wade says. “And I’m not sure they’d want to hear it.”
…
“It’s a good deal,” I tell him. “You should sign it.”
“Where does Judd stand?” Wade asks Eric, who shifts in his chair uncomfortably.
“It’s unclear,” he says. “They haven’t specified exactly that you can pick and choose your own people – but as I said, they’ve specified the show structure and who falls into that. They are specific production staff that looks to be in-house.”
“Okay, I get that. But how does Judd fit into that?”
“There is a little wriggle room, I suppose.”
“Let’s be honest here, Eric. Will I be able to take him with me, or not?”
“They don’t want him. He’s radio. He has no experience with producing television.”
“Can we negotiate on this contract?”
“Let it go,” I tell him. “They’re right. You can’t use me over there, and I won’t know what I’m doing anyway. You don’t owe me anything.”
“I don’t like it, Judd. I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t come back, and I owe you big.”
I stand up. “I don’t want you to renegotiate. Take the deal. It’s time we parted ways, as far as business is concerned. We’ll still be friends, that won’t change.”
“You said that we’re never going to be friends.”
“I’ve been wrong before,” I say as I leave.
…
“You alright, buddy?” I ask him quietly.
“She’s kicked me out,” he says simply.
“She’s seen the paper.”
“She has.”
“What are you going to do?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll go home and get some clothes and find a room somewhere.”
I’m no stranger to the process. I can remember the dread that comes with finding yourself adrift and alone, abandoned by the one that is supposed to love you no matter what.
…
“Okay,” Wade says into the microphone, “there’s been a lot of talk lately about just what happened between my producer, his wife and me. And really, it was nobody’s business but ours, but it seems that people aren’t just going to let it go. So I’m going to talk about it. We’ll be taking calls a little later so don’t even think of ringing in yet. So, let’s get down to it...”
…
“How you doing, buddy?” I ask him.
“How do I look like I’m doing?”
He’s crumpled like a piece of screwed up paper. Normally he’s clean shaven but he’s let his whiskers grow. I wonder of that’s standard operating procedure for husbands out in the cold.
“You look like crap,” I tell him.
“That’s just what I was going for,” he replies with wry grin.
“Did she hear the program?”
He nods, loses his grin. “Yeah. She messaged me. But she’s not buying it. She’s angry, and she has every right to be.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Can’t be helped. I was always going to screw up, the question was when.”
“You didn’t screw up. It’s a misunderstanding. She’ll get that eventually.”
“But I did. You were right. I was an idiot to spend time with that girl. She’s barely over eighteen. I’m like twenty years older than her. Damn it.”
“Next time you’ll do better.”
“There might not be a next time. Damn it, I miss her, Judd. I miss her like there’s a hole in me. What does this mean?”
Thirty Four
Monday
Wade gets a call and heads down to the network after we finish for the day. I guess he’s about to hear from them if his show will come to pass. We talk about it before he leaves. The sponsors are getting nervous about the show we have and the one that he will maybe have. I tell him I’ll spend some time this week talking to them in person, allay their fears. The truth is, I just don’t know what is going to happen. I want him to succeed, but I don’t know where that will leave me. But I know I’ll fall on my feet, I always seem to, and I have Quinn at my side.
He looks nervous as he leaves, and he doesn’t quite look me in the eye. I think he’s feeling guilty about leaving me behind, but I’m okay with that. Regardless I have no choice.
Wednesday
Quinn is waiting for me when I get home.
I’m a little late. I’ve been talking to people downtown about the upcoming changes and their sponsorships. There has been talk about the article and people are getting nervous.
The days are getting shorter now, and when it’s getting near dusk when I enter out apartment. She has dinner underway and there is some light music playing on the stereo. I think I could smell what she’s cooking from the carpark, it smell so good. I join her in the kitchen and wrap my arms around her and my daughter and kiss the back of her neck.
“Finally,” she says.
I explain my tardiness.
“Dinner’s almost done. Wash up and I’ll be ready to serve.”
I kiss her again and I can feel her shiver as tingles move up and down her spine.
“Enough of that,” she says and nudges me away with a laugh.
I return a few minutes later and she’s true to her word. Another minute and she has our meal on plates and on the table. She takes off her apron and joins me.
“This smells so good,” I tell her. It’s a chicken stew. Basic, but full of flavour. It’s one of my favourite meals that she cooks for me. I can’t really remember how many times she cooked for me in the last year, but there can’t be many. I guess it was one of the signs that I missed, but then things change in a marriage. Some changes are good, others... Maybe I just thought at the time this was just a small change to the way we operate.
She’s quiet as we eat and I know there is something on her mind. A year ago I’d have said ‘what?’ or maybe just ignored it. But I’m not like that now. I wait for her to tell me, because I know she will. When she’s ready.
We finish. She takes the plates, starts to load them into the dishwasher.
“That can wait,” I tell her and she stops, bu
She takes a deep breath. “Yeah. You’re right. I just don’t know how to put all of this into words that will make you understand.”
“Just talk. If I don’t understand then I’ll ask questions.”
“But that’s the problem. If I start then I need to keep going. If I stop, I might not start again.”
“Then just talk.”
“I’m afraid.”
I exhale deeply. “Now I am too.”
“But you’re going to think the worst of me.”
“Been there,” I tell her. “Not going there again. Not ever.”
“Okay,” she says out loud, but then talks in a whisper. She looks down. Her lips move but no sound comes.
“You might have to speak up,” I suggest with a smile and she looks up quickly and then smiles a little.
And then with a sigh she begins:
“The other day, when we were at the farewell, you asked me some questions and I kind of answered them, but not fully. I said we’d talk again and we need to. But before I could talk to you I needed to talk to Mary.”
I nod my head.
“I told her what you asked me and we talked through it, and we’ve come to a pretty frightening conclusion.”
I sit up. My face is pulled into a frown.
“I’m an addict, Judd.”
She says nothing for a moment. She lets that sink in, but it doesn’t have to go very far.
“I know,” I say.
“What?”
“You said Wade was your ‘drug to dull the pain’.”
“Crap,” she says, placing a hand over her mouth. “You actually understand.”
“Maybe,” I say. “Keep talking.”
She takes deep breath. “But it’s not Wade that I’m addicted to. Or was. This is hard to put into words...