Taking it on the chin

Then Monday, Wife and D talked on the phone as usual, and Wife exploded. In the middle of the workday, I got an e-mail from D saying:

Dear Hosea,
Wife is now yelling at me and making up half the material. I'm irritated, but trying to protect you while assuming all the burden for the decisions made in the study. It looks like I'll be paying for that damn pen. [Wife accused D of throwing away her father's fountain pen from the 1930's, for no better reason than that it was caked with dust and wouldn't write.] Frankly, I'm only repentant for your sake. I hope this earns me credit in Purgatory. sigh*
I love you. I'd better, for all the nonsense I'm taking right now. More later.
D

My answer to this first mail was brief:

Oh shit. I'm so sorry.
I swear if you pay for the pen I will burn the check.

Almost an hour later, I got the following update:

Darling,
I'm still taking it on the chin; there is not a lot I can do except take full responsibility and shield you from her anger. I'll mostly fail here, but maybe less anger will come your way. I'll pay for anything she deems necessary, sweetheart, if it helps you and the children.
Let's be depressed together. God...two hours of being raked over the coals for no good reason. sigh*
I love you, I really do.
D

This time my reply was a little more puzzled.

Why is she doing this now??? She wasn't like this last week. Is it all because we worked Saturday to clean out the storage unit?
Of course, her mother would fly into unpredictable rages too.
"The children"? She can't possibly blame them, can she? Or do you think she will take it out on them for being so helpful? And you know, maybe you shouldn't worry so much about shielding me from her anger ... I hate to think of you taking it all on the chin here. And it's not like I'm not used to her being like this.
I have a meeting so I have to sign off now. I love you. Hang in there ... or hang up, if that's better.
All my love,
H

A full hour and a half after THAT, I finally got the following update:

Dearest Hosea
Sigh* Imagine you are surrounded by students who love you, listening to you apologize over and over, trying, with only some measure of success, to shield someone else they don't know. They were very kind to me; they knew I was upset. Even Pericles and his Funeral Oration could not cheer me up, although they did understand how different it was from Confucius and Chinese Legalism. God, what an afternoon.
I would let you take the heat, if in fact you were responsible for throwing away her things and setting the plan for the study. Since you weren't, it's hardly fair for you to bear the burden. Of course, what is obvious to me is that she faults you, not me, for failing to provide the trappings of middle class existence she wanted for so long. Good God. Never have such material things seemed so worthless to me as this afternoon (I could get really emotional here, and that's not going to help. Take a deep breath, D). How can anyone measure a person's worth by the things they own? Hosea, I can't finish this thought.
I'm so upset, I can't write any more. I just feel completely trapped and helpless. This is a horrible place to be, particularly when I think of you being here all the time.
Perhaps we can talk later.
I'm going to read your essay [on a website that I write under my own name] about ..., one of my favorite authors. A Calvinist...but you know that. Today, if you want to talk about total depravity, I'm right with you.... You are depressed? Me too, sweetheart.
I love you, in every way possible.
D

The conversation between us wandered on for another day or so, but this is enough to give you an idea of what happened that day between D and Wife. I still thought that D was crazy to apologize so much over something so stupid, but in the long run it turned out she was wiser than I was ....
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