Confession

It's been a while coming but I'm finally found out. J.D. caught me in the act. Sometimes, when he's not home, Brent stops by to see me. It's not that J.D. can smell him on my shirt, or the shower is wet at odd times of the day, or I look suspicious or anything, but he always knows what's going on with me. Brent stops by occasionally and leaves the slightest trace of himself.

Brent's father made beautiful shadow boxes for all Brent's women when he died. Mine and Kristin's hang in the house. Mine is at my eye level; Kristin's at hers. There are little mementos appropriate for each of us; things that have raw, deep emotions attached to them. We never open the boxes, but we are always closing mine. Brent stops by to let me know things: that he has his eye on his kids; that he appreciates J.D.; that he just needs to sit around and watch me work.

He's scary sneaky though. I can sit at the table all day and if I leave for a few minutes, the shadow box door will be open when I get back. No one was running in the house or the house didn't shake, it's a stealth visit and most often it's J.D. that says, "Brent stopped by today?"

"Huh?" I say with an are-you-asking-ME? look. If I ever did anything to really confess to, he'd have my number because apparently, my cheater look is obvious. Brent's visits come closer together this time of year, which is OK because I must need acknowledgement this time of year.

See you in heaven, Brent.