The prayers went unanswered. Sharon made her move toward reconciliation with her husband on their son’s fourth birthday, the first week in March of 1982.
When her father answered the phone he put up a brave front, but Lorri could tell something was wrong.
“Dad, what is it?” she asked.
“Guess you’ll find out,” he said cautiously, as if confessing to a capital crime. “Sharon and I are working things out. We’re getting back together. The divorce is being called off.”
Lorri could barely believe her ears. She had rejoiced a dozen times since her wedding that Sharon was now another man’s problem, had been so sure Sharon was gone for good.
“Dad, she got pregnant by another man! By your friend!”
Perry explained all of it had already been handled. He’d paid for an abortion and Sharon’s pregnancy was no longer an issue.
“She’s the mother of my children, Lorelco. I let one family slip away. I’m not about to make the same mistake twice.”
Lorri tried to get him to see the light as he had so clearly demonstrated at her wedding when he said he was through with Sharon, but there was no arguing with him over the phone. Lorri pressed the point as hard as she could without angering her father. She didn’t want to risk another separation over Sharon.
”I love her,” he said, almost sadly, before saying goodbye.
Lorri hung up the phone in shock. She slumped her numb body into a kitchen chair while reason ran a merry-go-round in her head.
Why, Dad? Why are you going back to her? What makes you so blind to what other so clearly see—what you had seen yourself? she thought.
Not long after the Nelsons reunited, Sharon accompanied Perry back to Cedar Lake, Michigan, to help celebrate his parents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary. And though Perry told friends he was happy that things had worked out, Sharon was not so happy. She complained bitterly that Perry only wanted her back in his life “to be his maid.” He didn’t love her, Sharon raged, he only wanted to use her.
Funny thing, up and down the spring thaw-swollen canyons others were saying the same thing about her. Some scratched their heads at the motivation of the doctor’s reconciliation with his wife.
“Don’t underestimate the power of pussy,” one wise old-timer remarked. “Nothing on this earth can compete.”
Sharon Fuller Nelson understood the power better than anyone and as the warmth of the Colorado spring moved to the scorching heat of the summer, she put her secret weapon to good and frequent work.
There was a method to her madness.
For Candis Thornton, being friendly with Sharon Nelson was both easy and hard. It was easy, because Sharon could be so much fun. She was quick with a quip, always up for doing something with a group, eager to fit in. No matter what was said about her, there were times when she was easy to like. During the time when Sharon had left Perry, the two saw each other infrequently. But when Sharon came back into her estranged husband’s life, she seemed to try to foist herself back on the people of Weston. She wanted to be a part of the community. She seemed to crave the connection between herself and the others of Weston. Sadly—at least, for her—she didn’t really fit in.
There were times when the doctor’s wife and the schoolteacher would get together and Sharon would say something downright disturbing.
When a group of Canyon neighbors had a get-together that included a hayride, Sharon and Candis had the occasion to spend one trip alone.
At one point, Sharon stared at Candis. Her eyes were fixed and her expression seemed serious.
“What is it?” Candis asked.
”I envy you,” Sharon said.
Candis was surprised by the remark. How could Sharon Nelson, the woman who had a wealthy doctor for a husband, two beautiful children, a mountain top house with a six-sided great room soaring to a cathedral ceiling, envy her? She wondered what it was that she had that Sharon could possibly want.
It turned out it was something Candis didn’t have that her neighbor had coveted.
”I wish I could be footloose and fancy-free like you and your husband,” she said. “No children. No one to tie you down.”
Candis made some comment about how lucky Sharon was to have children. Though they were a handful, they were bright and beautiful. Her son and daughters were a wonderful blessing.
Sharon shrugged off the compliment. ”I wish I never had my kids,” she said.
The words shocked Candis. She didn’t know what to say. What kind of mother would say something like that? It wasn’t that she didn’t want a break from her kids, like so many parents do. The way Candis took the remark, Sharon didn’t want her children at all.