JB's comments are the brilliant tail that wags the original (ridiculously vicious) dog.I've read the original story twice; but I've come back about a dozen times to re-read JB's words.
I encourage JB to flesh out his/her comments and post them as a true sequel to Jennifer's story.
It would be interesting to know exactly how Wendy felt when she first realized she had destroyed her family.
It could also be entertaining to read about how this all affected his so-called friends; however this might be a difficult writing task, given that everyone except Wendy and Jim was presented as two-dimensional in the original story.
Here is how I would write the sequel to “A Day in the Garden”:After that visit with Wendy I never went by her place again. Nor did I ever call her. When family events were planned I was sure to make myself unavailable attending some other engagement or having caught something that I didn’t want to spread to the family. I put my telephone on an answering service and routed all calls there being very selective of those who I called back. I would visit my parents at odd times so that I never chanced a meeting with Wendy. On the rare times she was there I wouldn’t enter or make an excuse not to stay longer than to say hello. If Wendy showed up while I was visiting I suddenly had an appointment that I needed to get to and would say good bye and make my exit.
It wasn’t long before Wendy caught on to what was happening. I think she thought it would pass and I would get over it. She never accepted that she had gone overboard and I wasn’t going to stick around and tell her. Maybe it was my pride that stopped me but more than that I was emotionally distraught over some of the things she did and the cramps that I endured bound for such long periods in one position. I was so dehydrated at the end of the day after being under the rain cape that I was dizzy and woozy for hours afterward. My whole body went through painful cramps through the next couple of days.
Fiona and I didn’t last long after that since I was silent to her ribbing and rather refrained. The fun loving guy was replaced with a very serious fellow. I stopped joking with her I guess over all I was responding to my recklessness of the past by being ultra conservative. I didn’t want to go out with or meet up with any one since Fiona was having a gay time reliving my embarrassment at my expense.
Getting together with Ted and Maggie was about the same. And Hilary peters had spread the story through the gossip mill long before I returned to work on Monday.
I returned to work and kept to myself choosing to keep every contact strictly just business. I endured the bantering with quiet reserve and eventually most of it went away when they didn’t get much of a reaction. I spent a monumental effort in finding another job out of the area. I worked with an agency that kept my identity hidden until an offer was made. This took me almost a year but I was successful in finding new employment. I quietly turned in my notice requesting only those with a need to know were told that I was leaving. Then I cleaned out my apartment taking just what I could carry and without telling a soul. I used an agency as well as a legal attorney to forward my mail with assurances that unless a government official had a valid reason to contact me my new location was to remain private.
At the new location I again used an agency for the phone and never had my mail sent directly to house. I did this until I was able to change my name and secure a new identity. I never wanted to mix with any of the individuals from that day that I felt assisted my sister with more malice than fun. They may not have been aware of the physical pain I endured but not one suggested she had gone too far.
I would make surprise visits to my parents which never lasted more than a few hours making sure I left before Wendy stopped by. I told them I had a new job that was supper sensitive and I could not even divulge my possible presence to any one by mail or phone. I gave them my attorney’s address so that they could contact me in an emergency but that I most likely would not be able to respond immediately.
Over the years I heard about my sisters marriages and divorces and the children she had. When my parents passed away I attended their funerals in elaborate disguises keeping as far away from Wendy as I could. When I was needed to be present for signatures I was successful in not to having to make connect with Wendy but trough the attorney. My father passed away first and connecting with my mother was a delicate balance but I did manage to avoid all the people that had been there that fateful day.
Wendy tried to get my old boss to track me down informing him about my embezzlement but when he contacted my attorney he decided not to pursue it since the costs I ran up was strictly small clams and the cost to him would far out way any return he would get. My attorney informed me that my old boss had apparently only approached him because he thought Wendy was trying to reconcile. That was thirty years ago and now both my parents are gone and I have no idea where Wendy or her children live nor do I care. I have become very successful and have my own family to look after. Though I have a small regret they never met my parents I have never missed my sister since making my choice.
I brought flowers to put on my parent’s grave which I usually visit within two days of my mother’s passing date. A couple approaches me maybe in their late twenties. The young lady walks up to me and hesitantly says, “Uncle Jim?”
“Maybe.” Was all I said.
“Mom wanted us to let you know she is sorry. She won’t tell us what it is about but she wants you to know that she is sorry.”
“I forgave her years ago but won’t endure the memories by ever coming in contact with anyone who was there that day. Tell her I’m sorry but that’s how it must be. It’s too painful to relive.” My eyes fill with water as I embrace my niece then I turned and left, tears rolling down my cheeks. My rental car is not far away and I can barely make it out. After thirty some years the memories are still too painful to face.
I hope my parting words were not too harsh for Wendy. But I don’t want to relive those memories or chance seeing those pictures ever. I didn’t want to chance meeting her friends Susan and Tricia or her old boyfriend Ricky, certainly not my old mate Ted or his wife Maggie. I could only imagine the people Angela, Hilary Peters and Fiona told but I wasn’t willing to risk finding out by reuniting with my sister. A year had been long enough to endure the humiliation of that day through others and thirty years was not long enough to get over the pain or forget.
Yes I learned a lesson that day and never again said anything to embarrass anyone. I tried to become very aware of how other people might feel before I ever opened my mouth. Eventually I got some of my fun nature back but I was never the same after that.
By JB