Facing the Music

a flash fiction story

It was the end of summer, 1975, and Bob was glad to be heading home. He had loved being on board the iconic Calypso, Jacques Cousteau’s famous sailing vessel, for an expedition to research the effectiveness of satellites in measuring the depths of ocean waters. He had found it exhilarating at first, but after three weeks at sea, the middle-aged West Virginian country boy couldn’t wait to be back on dry land.

The open road was a welcome sight. As he cruised along he was glad to see the leaves had not yet started to lose their colour. He wound down the window and breathed the familiar air of the valley — it felt so refreshing after nothing but sea air for the best part of a month away from home.

His thoughts turned to the woman he loved. He knew she would be home waiting for him, but he wasn’t sure he would be able to look her in the eye. For a long time she had been all he could think about; heck, in the early days he just couldn't get enough of her. It used to feel as though she was all he could see when he closed his eyes, her words echoing in his mind long after they had been spoken, even the smell of her perfume lingering despite being so subtle in scent.

When he had taken his dream job at NASA the distance between them had turned into something more than geographical. Whenever he returned to their family home he felt responsible for allowing their relationship to fade to nothing more than a distant memory for the two of them, held together by the sense of duty on his part and the complacency of habit on hers. He was grateful his salary afforded him a small apartment close to work in which he could hide away from the remaining fragments of his once-happy life with Annie. Not this time though. This time, he had to go back and face the music.

On entering the house he saw the look in the eyes of the woman he had fallen so heavily for. He knew she had always known. It wasn’t anger or hurt that he saw in those eyes, and that’s what upset him the most, which made him realise he still loved her more than he had allowed himself to believe. Her eyes didn’t seem to show anything now. There was no sparkle of elation to have him home again, no glimmer of hope that their relationship might recover, no evidence of any of the emotions he expected to see in the eyes of the woman he had long betrayed.

She was stood in the light of the window, and by God was she still beautiful. Her eyes were unrecognisable to him now that they no longer revealed what had been an unwavering affection for him. Somehow, with those stranger’s eyes, he found he wanted her more than ever before.

“I’m leaving, Bob. I want you to sell the house, there’s nothing for us here anymore. There’s just nothing at all,” Annie informed him. No welcome, no interest in the expedition, nothing, just like she said.

“Can’t argue with that,” he retaliated, hoping to see some sign of hurt betray her cold tone, only to be disappointed.

“You can pack up your things in your own time. I’m leaving today. I just didn’t wanna leave without telling you face to face, I felt I owed you that, even if you ain’t never had the decency to do the same for me. I sure hope it’s all been worth it Bob, we had something good once. We really did.”

Had it been worth it?

Moving to a different state to pursue his career, returning on weekends and holidays with ever-decreasing frequency, but climbing that ladder and working on projects that gave him something to look forward to each day — yeah, that had been worth it.

Choosing to stay away and play away from home on those days when he could have been making his way back to the neglected body he once couldn’t get enough of, screwing a different woman each time — no, that hadn’t been worth it, not if he was being honest.

He couldn’t deny he had enjoyed it, but he couldn’t say it was worth what it was now costing him. He was getting older, and he would have loved to have come home to open arms.

He had two weeks leave and he couldn’t face dealing with the house. He couldn’t bear to be in it without Annie, whose perfume still lingered, reminding him just what he had given up. Gone were the days when he had told her how he hated to leave as he left for the airport, knowing she would be right here waiting for him to return, whenever that would be. She would never be here waiting again.

Of course, it wasn’t just her perfume that lingered, and the damned fool never had the decency to remove all traces of his side projects before flying home. With every trip back he had told more lies, and he was sorry for that now. She deserved better, and he knew it.

This time she was the one who had left, boarded some plane to go stay with her sister out in Colorado. Annie loved the mountains.

Back at work his colleagues, some of whom he could even call friends, all asked about Annie, just as they always did. He looked them in the eye and told them she was doing just fine.

Months passed by and Bob kept telling the same old story about how Annie was up in the mountains so he hadn’t heard from her in a while, though he felt sure he would hear from her soon. Not one of them believed him of course, and they pitied the wretch he had become since she left, which they all could guess she had done.

Many years later, Bob sat alone in the apartment he still didn’t think of as home. He had one of those new CD players and was using it to listen to John Denver’s Greatest Hits. He had loved Denver’s music back in the 70s, but as he listened now with the attention to lyrics only someone searching for answers ever has, so much seemed to speak to him.

Damned story of my life! he thought.

This story is dedicated to Michael Whalen and Gayle Kurtzer-Meyers, without whom it would never have been written. They have my thanks, as do the team and readers at GiaB.

The story features homages to seven different John Denver songs — if you’re a fan, see if you can spot them.

The work is entirely fictional, but the expedition referenced at the start of the story did happen (without our protagonist, of course). You can read about it here:

https://blogs.nasa.gov/earthexpeditions/2020/07/21/chasing-satellites-with-jacques-cousteau/