“What?”
“If a tree falls in a forest and no one hears it, did it make a sound?”
“I think you’re losing your mind.”
“I am. But my point is, it’s not a book until it’s published.”
“A book is a book. Apparently it takes more than a great book to get published. But you can’t stop living because the breaks aren’t there.”
I shook my head. “You don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t. Who cares what they think about your book?”
“I do. That book was my last hope that I could do something with my life. That I could be somebody.”
This was the first time that I had openly acknowledged my fears. Only now, with the words still ringing in our ears, had either of us realized the extent of my desperation. For a moment Allyson seemed unable to respond. When she did her voice was heartfelt. “But you are somebody. You’re my husband. You’re Carson’s father. Why can’t that be enough?”
“Because that’s not how men are judged in this world. I was raised thinking that all that matters is what you accomplish in life. I had one hope. And now it’s gone.”
Her brown eyes darkened with concern. “Rob, if you don’t start doing something besides sitting around playing computer solitaire or whatever it is you do, you’re just going to get more depressed. Besides, I’m not making enough to keep up with expenses. We’re burning through our savings.”
I reacted defensively. “What do you want me to do? I’ve been to every radio and television station in Salt Lake City. No one wants to hire me. Stuart is seeing to that. One call to him and they won’t even return my calls.”
“But you’ve never liked radio sales anyway. Why don’t you go into a different profession? Like teaching?”
“Teaching? Where?”
“Maybe there’s an opening at the university. Your father would know.”
Her suggestion came as a slap. I replied angrily, “Like I’m going to ask Chuck for help. I haven’t spoken to him for two years.”
“He helped us with the house.”
“Don’t you get it? That was Chuck’s way of proving to me that I’m nothing without him. That’s not a roof above us, it’s a thumb.”
Allyson exhaled. “Robert, I don’t care what you do—as long as you do something. You can’t just sit around the house feeling sorry for yourself.”
Her words stung. “So that’s what I’m doing? Just feeling sorry for myself?” I turned around and shut down the computer. Then I walked out of the room. Allyson followed me, first with her eyes then physically up the stairs to the back door.
“Rob, where are you going?”
“To get a job.”
I slammed the door behind me. As I pulled my car out of the driveway, she stood at the window watching. It had been a dramatic exit, but at this hour I really had no idea where I was going.
Chapter 13
I returned home past one in the morning. I stepped into our dark bedroom and undressed, letting my clothes fall in a clump at my feet. Then I climbed into bed. Allyson immediately rolled over. Her voice came soft from the darkness. “I’m sorry that I hurt your feelings.”
“It’s okay. You were right.”
“Where have you been?”
“Looking for work.”
“At one in the morning?”
“I’ve been talking with Stan. I start working with him tomorrow.”
“Installing sprinklers?” Her voice was tainted with incredulity.
“You have a problem with that?”
“No . . .”
“No, but . . . ?”
“No, but I’m afraid that you will.” She put her hand on my chest. “Robert, you have a master ’s degree. You graduated summa cum laude.”
“Then I’ll be the most educated sprinkler installer in Salt Lake.”
Allyson was quiet for a long time. I imagine she was garnering courage for what she wanted to say. “Can’t you at least talk to your dad? Maybe it will make things better between you.”
I bit back my anger. “What makes you think I want to make things better?”
“But, Rob—”
I cut her off. “End of
“If a tree falls in a forest and no one hears it, did it make a sound?”
“I think you’re losing your mind.”
“I am. But my point is, it’s not a book until it’s published.”
“A book is a book. Apparently it takes more than a great book to get published. But you can’t stop living because the breaks aren’t there.”
I shook my head. “You don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t. Who cares what they think about your book?”
“I do. That book was my last hope that I could do something with my life. That I could be somebody.”
This was the first time that I had openly acknowledged my fears. Only now, with the words still ringing in our ears, had either of us realized the extent of my desperation. For a moment Allyson seemed unable to respond. When she did her voice was heartfelt. “But you are somebody. You’re my husband. You’re Carson’s father. Why can’t that be enough?”
“Because that’s not how men are judged in this world. I was raised thinking that all that matters is what you accomplish in life. I had one hope. And now it’s gone.”
Her brown eyes darkened with concern. “Rob, if you don’t start doing something besides sitting around playing computer solitaire or whatever it is you do, you’re just going to get more depressed. Besides, I’m not making enough to keep up with expenses. We’re burning through our savings.”
I reacted defensively. “What do you want me to do? I’ve been to every radio and television station in Salt Lake City. No one wants to hire me. Stuart is seeing to that. One call to him and they won’t even return my calls.”
“But you’ve never liked radio sales anyway. Why don’t you go into a different profession? Like teaching?”
“Teaching? Where?”
“Maybe there’s an opening at the university. Your father would know.”
Her suggestion came as a slap. I replied angrily, “Like I’m going to ask Chuck for help. I haven’t spoken to him for two years.”
“He helped us with the house.”
“Don’t you get it? That was Chuck’s way of proving to me that I’m nothing without him. That’s not a roof above us, it’s a thumb.”
Allyson exhaled. “Robert, I don’t care what you do—as long as you do something. You can’t just sit around the house feeling sorry for yourself.”
Her words stung. “So that’s what I’m doing? Just feeling sorry for myself?” I turned around and shut down the computer. Then I walked out of the room. Allyson followed me, first with her eyes then physically up the stairs to the back door.
“Rob, where are you going?”
“To get a job.”
I slammed the door behind me. As I pulled my car out of the driveway, she stood at the window watching. It had been a dramatic exit, but at this hour I really had no idea where I was going.
Chapter 13
I returned home past one in the morning. I stepped into our dark bedroom and undressed, letting my clothes fall in a clump at my feet. Then I climbed into bed. Allyson immediately rolled over. Her voice came soft from the darkness. “I’m sorry that I hurt your feelings.”
“It’s okay. You were right.”
“Where have you been?”
“Looking for work.”
“At one in the morning?”
“I’ve been talking with Stan. I start working with him tomorrow.”
“Installing sprinklers?” Her voice was tainted with incredulity.
“You have a problem with that?”
“No . . .”
“No, but . . . ?”
“No, but I’m afraid that you will.” She put her hand on my chest. “Robert, you have a master ’s degree. You graduated summa cum laude.”
“Then I’ll be the most educated sprinkler installer in Salt Lake.”
Allyson was quiet for a long time. I imagine she was garnering courage for what she wanted to say. “Can’t you at least talk to your dad? Maybe it will make things better between you.”
I bit back my anger. “What makes you think I want to make things better?”
“But, Rob—”
I cut her off. “End of
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