Tim spent the night in a police station holding cell sleeping off the self-inflicted trauma of the night passed; police charged and released him after arraignment in the morning. He called Ronnie upon arriving at the police station, but told her not to come in that moment.

In the hours since the accident, the full weight of what had just unfolded struck Tim as if it were the full force of an F5 tornado.

Although Tim had no way of knowing yet, Susan Woodward was going to be ok.

Rushed by ambulance to the hospital in Concord, doctors determined there were 3 broken ribs and a broken left arm, as well as a severe laceration that required in excess of 100 stitches to close. No major organs were injured, but Susan required a blood transfusion.

Her overall good fortune still did not alter the fact that Tim had driven an automobile while intoxicated, coming close to killing Susan in the process.

Ronnie showed up at the courthouse, but did not watch Tim’s arraignment on the DUI and reckless operation charges. Instead, she plied the halls of the lobby, pacing endlessly from one wall of windows to another. Inside the courtroom, Tim stood passively and pled not guilty in that immediate moment, though his actual intent would be to reverse this once he hired an attorney and worked through the issue.

Ronnie was a walking and talking harbourer of multiple and diverse feelings. Damn it, she loved Tim, but he was melting down before her eyes. Ronnie had not yet mentioned the sounds Tim was tossing about in his sleep, words that were unintelligible and initially assumed by Ronnie to be sleep mumbling. Until one night when Tim uttered sounds that seemed familiar – the same sounds strung together, and she began to pay closer attention. These sounds made no sense to Ronnie, but the repetition of them was just plain strange.

Anyway, perhaps she was enabling this conduct instead of really getting him to face his issues head on.

This could not continue, it would rip their family to shreds. Ronnie refused to let the girls get pulled into this maelstrom. So what was she to do? She did not know, and so the best course was to step back and think things through.

Tim spotted Ronnie in the courthouse lobby, and walked slowly and sheepishly over toward her, quite unsure of what to expect. Ronnie spoke first, a simple and soft “hi” that conveyed no trace of anger but a whole lot of unfiltered light, as if she were the possessor of a shaken and stirred emotional soup blended into one homogeneous mix.

Tim answered in kind, and the two walked slowly out of the building. Tim had no idea where Ronnie had parked, and so he followed her lead to the car. Once inside and underway, Tim felt a tear drop out of his left eye and meander slowly downward on his cheek.

As she came to a halt at the exit out of the parking lot and onto the roadway, Ronnie started to speak, slightly turning her head toward Tim. The tear caught her attention as if marked in neon colours. She pulled her hand off the manual shift, and gently brushed away the tear. Unfortunately, that action triggered the floodgates, and Tim let loose all of the pent up emotion from the past day.

A horn beeped behind the car, bringing Ronnie back to the moment. She turned left onto the roadway, and then pulled into one of the vacant parallel parking spots, rolling to a quick stop.

She shut the car down, reached across to hug Tim, and rocked him sweetly and rhythmically.

“Tim” Ronnie began “I love you dearly. You are a good person. You are a messed up person, but a good person. I think you know this has to end, that you have to get help and take it seriously. There can be no more repetitions of this. Not if you wish our marriage to survive and our family to remain intact. No matter how much I love you, I will do what is best for me and for our daughters.

It need not be this way, but you should know – I owe it to you and you deserve – to know my thinking and the things you need do to set it right.

I am not naïve; I know gender is an issue for you, and a resolution will be finding your level – I do not know what that level is. Will it be changing physical sex? Could it be something along the lines of androgyny? Could it be active suppression?

I do not know, and you probably do not, either. Not all of those choices can work for me. If all the searching and the help you get leads you to change your physical sex, well… I am not a dyke, Tim. I love you and we can be friends, but I cannot, I will not remain married in that framework. You need to be true to you, but so too must I be true to me. I wish for you to be happy, to be at peace, to soothe your soul, to leave behind the haunting of demons.

The first thing we are going to do tomorrow is visit the person you struck, and you are going to apologise. In the eyes of an attorney that will be a stupid act, but stupid or not, it is the right thing to do.

The second thing you are going to do is call Delores. And this time, I’m going with you on that appointment.

For now, we are going home. I have called Sara Beth – yes, I have told her what happened, and she is very worried about you. You have a great boss there, wish mine were so understanding and supportive!

One more thing… my love will always be with you, no matter how this all ends.”