In my secret life (homage to Leonard Cohen)

Dan blew out the candles on his birthday cake, made by his wife, sat back in his chair at the head of the table, and smiled. He had just turned sixty, which meant enough years had passed so that nobody was ever going to know. He sighed loudly.

“Is it hard turning sixty?” Asked his wife, who was about five, maybe six years younger. She had made the cake, which was lemon with cream cheese frosting, his favorite. She thought he was perfect. In all their years of marriage, which were more than thirty, he had been the best husband she could have hoped for. He felt the same about her. They had never quarreled, never been jealous, never questioned their good fortune at having met at just the right time. 

“You sighed, so I just wondered if this birthday was harder,” said Virginia. “Was it the cake? Was there something wrong with it?” She asked, worried because he hadn’t answered her first question. She knew he was looking forward to retirement. He’d been mildly concerned about his blood pressure and cholesterol and had been diagnosed with diabetes, but it wasn’t at a dangerous level yet. In general, he thought his health was good and he felt fortunate, considering he was now sixty. Probably being an athlete in three sports had helped.

“No, not at all,” he replied, and smiled up at her as she stood by his chair. She was so petite, as pretty as when they had married. Dan was still six feet tall or close to it, but he did have a much thicker waistline and his brown hair was gone. His dimples, once something all the girls adored, had magically blended into his rounder face. His glasses didn’t favor him and there was nothing left of his high school swagger. The smile that had once launched a thousand ships had become rather goofy. Yet he was happy. Virginia, who looked fantastic for being in her fifties, loved him. She didn’t know.

“I’m just a little tired. It was a long day at the office. Who knew Accounting could be so taxing?”

“Oh, it’s likely you need a better chair. After all the years you’ve been at the company, they should be willing to get you a new one.”

“Silly. I haven’t had the same chair for over thirty years,” Dan noted. He wasn’t going to argue on his birthday, they never got upset with one another, but he did have something on his mind. It was the secret. His secret, and one he feared would cause him to lose the love of his life if she found out. Still, he’d made it to sixty safely, and so his sigh was merely one of relief. Maybe he could relax now. Maybe his blood pressure would go down. Maybe he could eat better and get the other minor health issues under control. Surely it wasn’t too late.

The next day, Dan thought he would set up a plan and would fit in some daily exercise. He didn’t know how much, but anything was better than his sedentary lifestyle at the office and on flights for business. His life had always been about business, making a reasonable amount of money, investing some, keeping his affairs in perfect order. He was always trying to keep the good student-good athlete image current. He had been the young man who could. The school year book had predicted success for him, and he had found it by work and safe living. 

Nobody had warned him about how he’d chosen a regimen for boredom. Nobody had said his habits might be lacking in factors for good health. In his mind, he was still the good-looking high school senior with a letter sweater - blue and white, fight, fight! - and his untarnished image in the eyes of the world had withstood the passage of time. 

Of course, it wasn’t really ever about me, he told himself, convinced he was neither egotistical nor selfish. I only did what I had to do, for the sake of others. I had to protect my family back then, especially my mother. They couldn’t find out. It would break their hearts. (And maybe they’d kick me out of the house.)

Dan’s mother was still alive and just as Catholic as ever. She was once pretty, petite, and in good standing in social circles. She was the mother of four sons, all strapping fellows who dwarfed her and formed a fortress around her. She was their guiding light, to use a phrase from a mass. Her sons never wanted to let her down and they hadn’t. A fine family.

The new regimen Dan had set up included fewer beers, more vegetables, and ten thousand steps a day. The last part he ended up ditching because it was a pain to count steps and nobody ever walked that much. I’ll just run for half an hour six days a week, he told himself. That should be enough. He didn’t bother to talk with his doctor. The plan worked, at least for a few weeks, and Dan began to feel lighter, more clear-headed, more stable on his feet. He thought he’d been very smart and ought to increase the running, to which he attributed his weight loss. Only twenty or twenty-five more pounds to go and he’d be almost at his goal. Not his high school senior, athletic weight, but close enough.

Then close wasn’t enough, and Dan began running longer and harder, still without his doctor’s knowledge. By now he was determined to reach that weight from the time when life was paradise, he had his brothers and parents, plus a cute girlfriend. He’d really like her. Until she made a mistake. She should have known, should have used her head. He always used his head. Nevertheless, things had gone wrong and there had been a big mistake. Her fault.

Confident that his path in life had been well chosen, Dan had married and settled down where he had grown up. Now his son was married - of course he would have a son - and he would be a grandfather soon. Life was good, the secret was safe. His old girlfriend had moved far away. Good riddance. She hadn’t really been his type. His wife Virginia was his type, and he never wanted to lose her.

Half a mile into his run on a crisp autumn morning, Dan felt a pain in his arm and in a flash the discomfort spread to his chest. He cried out, people heard and came running. He awoke in the intensive care unit, but no longer could speak. His family was gathered around, some looking hopeful, some frightened. He didn’t know which to believe. He was too doped up to fear that his life was in danger, which was probably a good thing.

Dan remained in that undefined world between life and death for a number of days. The doctors said it was rare to remain in that state for so long, since he wasn’t in a coma and he seemed stable after the heart attack. His wife never left his side. His son was there as well. It would simply take time to recover. Until.

Until she walked in the hospital room, looking very good for a woman in her late fifties and not appearing to be concerned about him. Why is she here? He wondered, somewhere in the fog that was his brain. Then he noticed the other figure, who had come in separately, not with the women who’d entered first. This second woman looked to be around forty and seemed to know the other one, who was sixteen or seventeen years older. He’d seen the younger woman around town, but had never noticed the resemblance. She was tall, had brown hair and very slight dimples. Quite attractive.

When neither woman acknowledged the presence of the other, he somehow knew. They were both glowering, and it seemed they were looking at him with all the hardness the human eye can show. Nobody in the room spoke: he was unable to articulate any words still, although the doctor was hopeful; the older woman was biting her lip but her expression was by no means sad; the younger woman looked as if she wanted to tell Dan to go out in the parking lot and they’d duke it out there.

Some say one thing about the visit; some have a different theory. It would be impossible to prove either, because neither visitor said or did a thing other than to stare and not smile. There had been no greeting, no attempt to touch one of the pale hands atop the white sheet. There was just a double presence, a wisp of hostility, sideways glances, then their departures. First one, then the other. Quietly, just as in the past.

Half an hour later, Virginia and her son came in with a book they gotten for Dan. He couldn’t read it, couldn’t even hold it, but they planned to take turns reading it to him. It was about hiking and camping, to encourage him to get better and return to a healthy lifestyle. It had taken some looking to find it, so they were later than they’d planned.

“Mom, Dad’s not… he’s not… he’s…” The son, who was no longer a boy but was now sounding like one, went over to the bed. His father never moved, didn’t acknowledge his presence.

“Oh, Dan!” Wailed Virginia. “Da…”

If Dan had been able to hear them, he likely would have smiled and sighed again with relief. Relief that now his secret would never be found out and he would not lose his perfect wife.

He just hoped his perfect mother, who fortunately was still alive and very lucid, would not live long enough to find out.