A final attempt to save the marriage was made in November, which explained the haphazard flight that had earlier baffled us. It was a miserable mistake, yet one which was often enacted by desperate mates who, as they, thought that a honeymoon would revive faltering love. They returned soon after their departure and Tracy called my mom to ask if they would be welcome at the family Thanksgiving dinner. Norm, however, was the one who had made the pumpkin bread. Norm was not the image of perfection; no one could be flawless in every sense of the word and remain a human being. It was unjust, however, that he had to sign his name to a divorce statement which was composed of falsehoods; at that time, no-fault divorces could not be obtained in Illinois, and it was simply assumed that the individual who sought the divorce was the one who had undergone mental or physical injury. As if the court proceedings alone were not humiliating enough, Tracy continued to weave a network of deception around their entire relationship which touched family members, co-workers and friends. A happy charade was displayed for our benefit, complete with a story that she had decided to take classes at a local college. There were no classes, of course, although Dad once shuttled her to one, thereby using his ignorance and trust to transform himself and others into fools. After the divorce had been finalized, she remained living in the same house with Norm for several weeks. The magnanimous proportions of marital collapse had reached our ears, but the full story was as yet untold; we never knew of the unpleasant facets which must have pervaded their last days in residence. The one shred which bears repeating was that on the final day, Tracy said she had a sore throat and would stay home from work, only to thread another deceptive claim into a tapestry of lies when she, with her lover's aid, moved out during Norm's absence. Upon his return he found the house stripped of all her possessions, including those stipulated in the divorce document, and the best of the two cars. It was easier to deceive than to confront; Tracy was never seen again, although a lone belonging mistaken for her own would occasionally find its way into Norm's mailbox. Things would similarly disappear without a word; the dog, whose purchase was Tracy's request, had not been taken in her exodus from the house. One evening, Norm drove home to find the dog missing. After a rigorous search, he returned home empty handed and without a clue as to its state or location, only to receive an explanation from a neighbor that Tracy had fetched the dog earlier in the day, leaving no note of her action.