The next day as Val waited for the bus out to the prison, everything seemed strangely familiar. I’ve done this before, Val thought with a sense of the ridiculous bordering on hysteria that she knew was inappropriate.
But everything was exactly the same as the first time she’d made this trip to visit Kevin. Even though this time he was expecting her, wanted her to come, Val had the same panicky sensation. She felt the perspiration gathering on her hands, felt the frightening breathlessness, the terrifying pounding of her heart. She felt sandy-eyed from not having enough sleep.
She had not been able to sleep last night either in the cheap motel where she’d checked in upon her arrival. When she gave up trying after a night of tossing and turning, she had showered and dressed.
She started to pin the small jeweled ladybug pin Garth had given her at Christmas on the lapel of her cornflower blue jacket. Then decided not to. Kevin might ask questions. He always noticed such things. She held it in her hand for a few seconds, then slipped it into her handbag. It made her feel unhappy to do it. As if she was abandoning Garth.
She went out into the early-morning stillness of the street. Besides the bus station, the only place open where she could get a cup of coffee was a diner. Inside its white tiled interior, the glaring fluorescent lights burned into her sleep-hungry eyes. She forced herself to nibble on a stale sweet roll and swallow a little coffee. Then she went back to her motel room to wait out the next two hours before it was time to catch the prison bus.
Again she was struck by the sight of the others waiting for the bus. Bound together on this common journey yet separated by private pain. There was an older woman with sad, dark eyes carrying a covered wicker basket, which, Val knew from her previous visit, she would not be allowed to carry into the visitors’ section. It was probably filled with nothing more than home-baked goodies, perhaps favorites of the man she was coming to see. However, it would be checked for drugs or anything that might be made into a weapon. It might never reach the person for whom the contents had been baked so lovingly. Val glanced at the woman sympathetically. Whoever she was visiting—husband, brother, son—he had done his share of etching the deep lines in her face.
Suddenly, a thought struck Val. How would she look in fifteen years? How would she seem to younger women waiting to go up to that gray stone fortress on the hill? A wave of nausea swept over her. But she managed to control it. She looked away quickly and saw the bus coming.
She maneuvered the high step carefully, thinking she had been foolish to wear high heels. She had done so automatically, remembering that Kevin had always preferred her to wear them. What difference did it make? The point of her coming was not to please Kevin. But as they neared the bus stop near the prison gate, she took out her compact and checked her image.
Kevin would find her changed. The hairstyle, the color, all different. Still tanned from the summer, she wore much less makeup now. No eyeliner and only lip gloss. She liked the way she looked, felt it was her real self. Maybe that was one of the biggest changes in her. She wasn’t trying to create someone else’s image of how she should look or dressing to please anyone but herself these days. For the first time in years she felt she knew who she really was. And she liked it that way. A smile touched her lips. Garth seemed to like it, too.
Val also knew there were changes in her that had nothing to do with how she looked. She snapped the compact shut. With a screech of brakes, the bus jerked to a stop and the door swung open. At the gated entrance, an armed guard checked identity cards, then in a single, silent file the visitors were let inside the compound to make their way to the next guarded station.
Since Val had a pass to see Chaplain Scott as well as to visit an inmate, she was led past the visitors’ room, down several corridors, through several bolted doors. Her teeth clenched as she waited for a guard to unlock each one, then afterward she heard it clang and the bolt shoved back.
She was ushered into a drab little office with a couple of golden oak armchairs and a window with heavy steel mesh obscuring the view, then told to wait. She tried to relax by taking deep breaths, flexing her fingers. But her hands were so moist she had to keep wiping them on her skirt.
“Mrs. Evans?” a pleasant male voice said, and Val jumped. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Chaplain Scott.”
Val stood up, dropping her purse as she put out her hand to shake his extended one. There followed a few minutes of confusion as they both bent to pick it up, retrieve the spilled contents.
“Won’t you please sit down?” The chaplain pulled up the other chair and seated himself, smiling at her as if theirs was an ordinary kind of visit. Not a matter of life or death.
Val looked at the man whose letter had brought her here, made such an impact on the life she had made for herself since her last visit to the prison. The man who had evidently had such an influence on Kevin.
He was not handsome, his chin too prominent, his nose too large, his hair balding.
But his eyes were extraordinary, light blue, almost luminous, and he looked directly at her as he spoke. These were truth-seeking eyes, truth-telling ones. Instinctively, Val knew she could trust whatever this man said, whatever he told her. She tensed as he began to speak.
“I want you to understand that a possibility of your husband’s parole is just that, a possibility. It’s a long process and requires a lot of recommendations for the applicant The one that has a great deal of bearing on whether an inmate is granted parole is what will happen when he gets out. If there’s a chance of returning to old companions, old haunts, old temptations, his chances are not very good.” Chaplain Scott paused significantly. “However, if he’ll be returning to a loving home, a good environment, people who care about him and will support him in turning over a new leaf, well, then, it improves the likelihood of his getting paroled.”
His keen gaze lingered on Val. She twisted the straps of the purse in her lap.
“The board only meets three times a year, and since they just met last month, it will be another four before they hear any new appeals. Another test of patience. Think you’re up to that?”
“I don’t know,” Val said. “I honestly don’t. It’s a new idea. I’ll have to wait until I see Kevin, talk to him myself.”
“I don’t mean to probe, but I can see you don’t have the same attitude you had before. From your letter, I got the impression you were willing to wait for Kevin no matter how long it took. Have things changed? Have your feelings for your husband changed?”
Val couldn’t lie. Not with those honest eyes looking penetratingly at her, as if they could see into her very heart.
“No, not exactly. I mean, I hoped Kevin was adjusting better, accepting the situation, but…yes, I guess you’d have to say things have changed. It’s been almost two years. On my own a good part of that time, I’ve had to change.” She took a long breath. “And I’ve met someone. Someone who means a great deal to me now. We met when I’d lost all hope that Kevin wanted us…me and our little girl. He didn’t answer any of my letters.”
Again Val took a breath that was almost a gasp before she went on. “A wonderful man, a good, intelligent, caring person, wants to marry me. He would provide a secure home and be a loving father to Megan.”
She let this sink in for a moment before going on. The chaplain was leaning forward, listening attentively.
“The problem is, I never did what Kevin demanded at first. That I divorce him. Somehow I could never bring myself to sign the papers so that they could be filed and end our marriage.”
“What does that tell you? About your own feelings? About the divorce?”
“That legally I’m still Kevin’s wife, that I’m not free to marry.”
“I wish I’d known this before I sent that letter,” Chaplain Scott said thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t have got Kevin’s hopes up, encouraged him to write to you.”
“He thinks everything is the same?”
“Well, he’s pretty sure of it. He told me you were high school sweethearts, that your relationship has always been a good one…” The chaplain hesitated. “What does the other man think of all this?”
“He’s upset, of course.”
“And your little girl? Does she know there’s a possibility of her daddy coming home?”
“No, I haven’t told her anything.” Quick tears came into Val’s eyes. “I wanted to wait until things were clearer.” She flung out her hands helplessly. “I don’t know what to do. What’s right or what’s wrong. Whatever choice I make, somebody will be hurt.” She looked at Chaplain Scott. “What do you think I should do?”
“I can’t make that choice for you, my dear. What concerns me is Kevin. If he finds out you’re not willing to provide him the support he needs to get a parole, that you won’t be waiting for him when he gets out, whenever that is, it will be a blow. A real setback.” Chaplain Scott looked grieved. “He has placed a great deal on his belief that you still love him. I don’t know what finding out that someone has taken his place in your affections and in your little girl’s, well…” He shook his head.
“But is it right to penalize us for what he’s brought on himself? It just isn’t fair.”
“Life seldom is,” Chaplain Scott said sadly.
Val got up, walked over to the window and looked out through the mesh. She could see the corner of the prison yard where the inmates took their exercise or mingled in the short recreation time. Beyond were the towering granite walls, the coiled rolls of barbed wire and an electric fence. Beyond them were the rolling California hills, still covered with golden poppies and purple lupins. Beyond all this was freedom. Her freedom. To love and live unafraid, cherished, protected by a wonderful man. She felt a wrenching desire to take that freedom. To run out of this grim place and never look back.
But she knew she couldn’t. If Megan was her only consideration, there would be no contest. Garth was clearly the more sensible choice of a father for her child. His gentleness, his interest and patience, his concern for Megan, were so much greater than Kevin had ever shown. But for Kevin, Val’s feeling was less analytical. He had been a part of her life ever since she was fifteen…
Why now did the words of the wedding vows they had taken come back to haunt her? Even though they had been spoken in the gaudy atmosphere of a Las Vegas marriage mill, to Val they had eternal meaning. She and Kevin had been joined together “in the sight of God” in a union that was to last forever, come what may, no matter what.
Val turned back from the window, faced Chaplain Scott. He was sitting, head bent forward, chin resting on folded hands, almost in a pose of prayer. Had he been praying? she wondered.
“I’m ready now, I think,” she said.
“You’ve made your choice, then.” It was more a statement than a question. He must have known, Val thought, that I never really had a choice. Maybe that was why she’d never signed the divorce papers. Somehow, underneath it all, she knew it would take more than her signature for her and Kevin’s marriage to be over.
Chaplain Scott rose to his feet. “Good. Come on, I’ll take you to Kevin.”
They had only fifteen minutes together because this was not a regular visiting day. Kevin had to be released from his work detail in order to see Val. As Val saw her husband approach accompanied by a guard, Val thought he looked physically better than the last time. He’d been working out in the prison gym, and even in the baggy jumpsuit he wore, he looked trimmer, his bearing more energetic.
Through the glass enclosure, Val saw the look of hope in his eyes as he picked up the communicating phone.
“It was good of you to come, Val,” he said.
“I wanted to see you.”
“You got my letter?”
“Forgive me?”
She waved her hand as if that was unnecessary. There was no point in responding to that.
“How’s Megan?” he asked next.
“She’s doing well.”
“I guess she’s grown a lot. How about sending a picture?”
“Sure. They took them at school in the spring.”
“You’re looking good, Val. Good? You look wonderful.” Kevin bit his lower lip, leaned closer to the glass. “It’s so great to see you, Val. When I get out of here, I’ll make it up to you.”
Val felt a clutch at her heart. How could he make up for what was lost? Ever?
But Kevin rushed on, “Val, I’ve got so many plans. Did Chaplain Scott tell you there’s a really good chance I can get paroled? Well, when I do, I have some fantastic ideas…”
Val realized the chaplain was right. Kevin was already building a larger-than-life picture of what it was going to be like when he got out. Dangerous? Maybe. But she knew it was his way of surviving. Without dreams, without big ideas, or if his hopes were dashed in here, Kevin would die.
Still, it frightened Val to see that glimpse of the old scheming Kevin, the Kevin who wanted to get the best of everything, of everybody, whatever it took.
There really wasn’t much more to be said between them. Val felt the words she spoke, the replies she made, were all automatic, on the surface. The real things were too deep, too heartbreaking, too important to say in this environment. Then time was up. She had to leave.
“Will you come again?” Kevin asked.
“I’ll try.”
The bus ride back to Seawood passed in a sort of peculiar blur. Val felt as if she were viewing a TV program, scenes of the prison, the interview with the chaplain, then her brief visit with Kevin, superimposed on the fleeting landscape. Over and over she reviewed that strange yet hauntingly familiar time with Kevin. A Kevin subtly changed by his prison experience, yet basically the same. Her own reaction was detached. She didn’t feel anything. Not love, not resentment, not bitterness, only a kind of emptiness within.
For some reason, the bus pulled into Seawood forty minutes ahead of its scheduled arrival. She had called Garth from a phone booth before boarding the bus so he could meet her. His voice, tight, tense, had asked, “How did things go?”
“I’ll tell you when I see you,” she had replied. And hung up. She hadn’t wanted to go into anything on the phone. She wanted to wait until she could tell him face-to-face.
She got off the bus and looked around. There was no sign of Garth. Of course, it was earlier than he’d expected her. All at once, Val felt terrified. She couldn’t bear to face Garth, tell him what had to be told. That she was going to stay married to Kevin. There was only one choice for her to make. To say goodbye.