I had a feeling this was coming. I've been checking my voicemail during the day from work, expecting to get the word. I imagined that then I would use the American Airlines frequent flier miles I have been hoarding to take a flight to Memphis. I thought it would be nice to absent myself by spending a few days with The King. There are motels within walking distance from Graceland and I thought it would be a great distraction from the ugliness at hand.
But the old fart died on a Sunday when I'm covering for a vacationing coworker and when I'm preparing to meet a new client for the first time. So no, I can't take a few days off right now.
Isn't that just like him? Messing with me to the last.
Circumstances can stop me from escaping town but they can't force me to celebrate my molester as the patriarch and pious congregant the family likes to think he is.
So I'm no longer answering my landline and am insisting to anyone who calls my cell or emails/texts that I'm out of town. Besides, I just may be gone for real on Thursday or Friday.
Once he's planted, this will all be over. Not only can he no longer harass me, and I will no longer have to keep his secret.
I got the news as I was getting into the shower. I felt cleansed in so many ways.