Chapter 11

The Last Day

11:19:28 p.m.

Seven blocks away, Judith Sonderman surveyed her living room in despair. Her wavy, long blond hair hung damp in front of her eyes and she brushed it away impatiently. Tears of frustration and surrender spilled down her cheeks. The clothes she wore were clean, neat, and oh-so-old. Calling her wardrobe out of date didn't do it justice. Ancient was more like it.

Examining herself in a full length mirror, mounted on her bedroom door, Judith sighed and said out loud, "Terry. I miss you so much. I should have never sent you away."

It was Christmas Eve, and for the tenth time she was taking a silent inventory of her net worth. Always hoping for a different outcome, she knew the results and they were crushing. She was tired, cranky, and hungry, though not in that order. She needed to eat something before she started to get shaky. Rather than deal with cooking and cleaning up, she decided to bundle up and drive to the all-night diner down the boulevard. It wasn't fancy, but neither was her budget. Sensible food at a reasonable price was a perfect match for her diminished circumstances.

As the wife of a successful bank manager, Judith had enjoyed all the perks. The bank had paid for membership in Bethlehem's Saucon Valley Country Club. Her husband, Chad, had made good money and they had been careful how they spent it. Their home had been tastefully decorated in a good neighborhood and priced just below the median market. When it was time to buy upward, they had a home that would be easy to sell in an area that would have continued to experience increased value.

Chad had been almost the perfect suburban husband, hard working, good looking and popular with his co-workers and bosses. Judith woke up some mornings almost shouting with happiness. Her new car, nice home, beautiful clothes, and charge accounts had made her the envy of her girlfriends. She hadn't wallowed in her good fortune so much as just enjoyed playing the part of the yuppie homemaker from suburbia.

It wouldn't look good to the bank for his wife to have a career, Chad had thought. Judith had stayed home, therefore, playing her part in the hope of quicker promotions and even more financial blessings for them both. No matter how hard they had tried, however, she had never become pregnant, and her empty womb was what had unraveled her perfect world.

Chad had started to come home later and later. Some nights she wouldn't see him until long after bedtime. He had always had excuses that were perfect, just like their life. As an up and coming banker, he had had to work the longest hours to prove himself worthy of the next vice presidency the bank offered. Judith had understood this and tried to fill her lonely hours with volunteer work, lunches with the girls, and a hobby or two.

After two years of patience and loneliness, she had lost it all anyway. Chad told her that he had been seeing another woman, and she was expecting their child. Judith couldn't believe that she had been oblivious while her world had changed irrevocably and completely, but she was helpless to change it now.

Chad had understood that a messy divorce wouldn't do his career any good; he had needed to get his current wife out of his house and out of his marriage quickly, before the bank discovered his duplicity. He had been reasonably sure no one at the bank would notice if he played his cards just right.

The negotiations had been mercifully brief. Chad had kept the house, buying Judith's half with proceeds from a hastily arranged loan. Judith would be entitled to half of Chad's 401-K and twenty-five percent of his retirement when she turned sixty-five. Even though they had spent carefully, they didn't have a great deal of savings, bonds, stocks, or other assets. When it had all been divided, she walked away with only ten-thousand, four-hundred dollars.

The little nest egg had been carefully invested in tax-free municipal bonds that would grow conservatively into a nice retirement fund for Judith. Her apartment was small, comfortable, and just about all she could afford without raiding her own meager retirement savings. The second floor walk up was cold in winter and hot in summer, but there was always hot water and the landlord kept things in reasonably good shape.

The years of playing the part of the contented suburban homemaker had deprived Judith of the vital experience she had needed to make her way successfully in the job market. The best she had been able to do had been finding work as a secretary, assistant to a sales executive at a cardboard box manufacturer. The work was steady and the boss kept his hands off of her. For both she was grateful.

After eleven years as a divorcee, she was now resigned to living out her life as an invisible, lonely, divorced woman with few friends and no partner. Dates usually resulted in nothing but controlled wrestling matches with men who figured a divorced woman was an easy mark. She hadn't dated at all in the last two years. Judith wasn't cheap and she wasn't about to start acting like a cheap woman.

Her friend Terry had been different, though. He had always been happy, full of life, energetic, hard working, and a perfect gentleman. It had taken Judith months before she had realized that he was interested in her, and when she had finally noticed, it had seemed so ridiculous that she had hurt his feelings by drawing back. He had been so young that she couldn't see how he could be interested in her. That old cliché had popped into her head—young guys have only ONE thing in mind—and she wasn't becoming a notch on anyone's bedpost.

Hurt once, twice careful, was her motto.

Terry had worked on the factory floor and had been well thought of by management for his punctuality and work ethic. He often ran errands for his supervisors that took him in and out of most departments. Some of those errands had taken him to Judith's office for documents, instructions, deliveries, and other things.

One morning, James, her supervisor, had needed some documents signed and notarized and payment picked up before shipping could commence on a large order.

Judith was the office notary. To get the required signatures notarized and to pick up the executed contract and cashier's check, Judith would have to spend the day out of the office, traveling from place to place in the company Buick. Terry had been asked to accompany Judith.

She had barely noticed how careful and solicitous the young man was as he opened the door on her side, averting his glance in case her skirt rode up as she sat down. They had talked comfortably on the ride up and during the hour they had waited for the customer to get everything together. Lunch had been at a steak house on Highway 22. They had talked there for another hour as they waited for their meals and ate. All day Judith had failed to note his obvious interest.

As they had turned into the factory parking lot, Terry had asked if Judith would like to have dinner some night and continue their discussion. She had been surprised,, and had refused without giving it a thought. He had blushed slightly, "I hope I haven't offended you, or anything." He had said it so politely that it caught her attention.

"Aren't you a little young for me?" her voice had sounded sharp to her, and she hadn't liked the tone she took with him.

"I guess some people might think so, but you're single and I am too. We get along comfortably. A pleasant dinner and a movie seemed like a nice way to spend an evening. I'm sorry if I made you mad."

"Look," she'd said, a little more kindly. "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I'm sorry!" and walked away.

Hurt, but undeterred, he had continued to stop by her office and had continued their conversations about everything from fashion to religion. Their talks had been precious to Judith and she had found herself looking forward to those afternoons he worked three to eleven and came by before his shift began so they could chat.

Without realizing it, Judith had started to dress for him and then it wasn't long until she spruced up just before he'd likely stop by. It was sweet, innocent, and charming. They had bonded for months before he tried again.

"Hey!" His voice had preceded him. "My parents couldn't use their tickets to the Christmas concert at Lehigh. It's tomorrow night, want to go?"

Judith had noted the youthful smile on his face. Warm smiles always drew her. There was something so ... real about an open, honest smile. It was as if no one could possibly have ugly intentions when the smile was so warm and kind. She had accepted without thinking and they had agreed on the time to leave.

Her young man had been punctual as always. His suit had been inexpensive but clean and neat. After gathering her keys, purse, and coat, which he had helped her put on, she had commented on his aftershave and absently brushed a speck of lint off his collar. None of these gestures had been unusual. Nothing had been out of the ordinary except for the intense rush of affection building inside her.

Suddenly Judith had felt sixteen again. Her hands shook slightly as he took the keys and locked the apartment door for her. Careful not to get caught, she had watched him out of the corner of her eye as they walked to his car, an older sedan of which he was inordinately proud. The car had been clean, neat, and cared for, just as she would have suspected.