"I can't do it." He told his reflection and his reflection slowly nodded its head understanding his meaning. He walked away and returned back to his chair sitting down again. Pouring himself another drink, he filled his glass up to near pass the brim before stopping. He set the bottle down hard against the wooden table as his hands clamped tightly around the glass.
"It can't be helped…" he resolved to himself, knowing what he must do. He drained the entire glass shaking it slightly making sure that there wasn't a drop of alcohol left behind. The glass crashed against the table scattering to bits, so strong was the force he used when setting it back down.
"Shit…" He cursed as the shards of glass pierced his flesh drawing blood. He couldn't help but thinking that this whole situation with his biological son was truly a tragedy that just couldn't be avoided. He was deeply sorry for the boy's pain; but he had warned Marla and she didn't listen to him. Now his own son was a casualty in their lives.
* * * * * * * *
Jacob had taken the day off from work so that he could be available to escort his wife to the doctor today. It was a typical summer morning and they had a nine o'clock appointment. Running over to the other side of the car after having parked it in the station lot, he opened the door assisting his wife's fragile body from getting out of the car. Louise slightly swayed with another bout of dizziness as she got up from her seat steadying herself.
"Whew…" She gasped holding her head and leaning against her husband for support. She took a moment to gather her wits and orientation as the dizzy spell dissipated. She closed her eyes and then reopened them adjusting to the orientation of standing up. She looked around, things looked unfamiliar.
"Ready?" Jacob patiently asked while holding his wife at the elbow.
"Yea… I'm fine." She told him as she began slowly walking with the aid of his support. Abruptly she stopped. This wasn't the usual train station that her husband always used. No wonder things seemed and felt strange to her.
"Why did you change stations?" Louise asked bewilderedly. She couldn't help but remembering his fondness for the two teen boys who always worked the commuting traffic during these hours. She knew that he liked the other stop and always looked forward to greeting them. She had always felt a twinge of envy at their parents. She too wished that her own children especially her son Markus was a little more studious when it came to money. However she couldn't blame her children; after all they had always showered them with everything that their hearts desired; wanting for nothing. Deep down inside she knew that her kids had been spoiled rotten. Why and how would her children have ever developed a sense of responsibility and contributing to their daily bread?