A Date With His Ex-Wife

A Date With His Ex-Wife

He sat there on his favorite stool in his favorite bar and enjoyed a glass of his favorite beer. At least, that's the way he thought of it. The truth is Harvey wasn't much of a drinker, but on those rare occasions when he wanted to sit in a bar and drink a beer, he wanted to be here. That's all he wanted to do - just sit, have a drink, and then go home.

As he raised his glass to his lips, he felt the slap on his back and a loud "Harvey, you old dog, where have you been keeping yourself?" It was George Benton, a fellow whose path he had crossed on a few occasions as part of his work.

Harvey let out a long, slow breath, gathered his patience, and then turned to face this man who feigned greater friendship than they had ever shared.

"Harvey, I haven't seen you around in over a year! Where have you been keeping yourself? Come on, tell me everything. I've had a hard day and I'm in need of entertainment."

Harvey had always felt that men like this were a burden, but not being one to create ill will he tried to ease George's expectations in hopes of making an early retreat.

"Nothing much has changed. I'm still working at Harrington, still on the road too much, and still volunteering down at Good Sheppard when I can."

"Oh, that's right! I remember now, you cook meals at a soup kitchen in the city. How's that going?"

"Actually, I mostly just do the dishes and that sort of thing a few nights each week. It gives me a certain peace of mind and makes me feel like I'm doing something worthwhile. Sometimes you need to be with people who have bigger problems than you." Harvey was speaking quietly, not wanting to attract attention.

"I admire that, Harv, I really do." George didn't know it, but Harvey hated being called Harv. "My wife and I keep saying we should do something like that, but we never seem to get around to it." George was talking too loud and Harvey couldn't tell if George was too obtuse to see that he didn't want to talk, or just unwilling to acknowledge it.

"Well, it's easy enough. Most of the time, we're shorthanded. Of course, washing dirty dishes isn't the most exciting way to spend the evening, but it fills a need in me. If I didn't volunteer down there, I'd just be sitting at home."

"So, does that lovely wife of yours join you on these nights out? I bet she brightens the lives of all those poor souls."

Harvey bristled at the thought of it, of his ex-wife intruding into his world, and of George seeming to possess greater familiarity with her than he liked. "No, she never really had any interest."

"What's she doing when you're out saving the world?"

This guy was really getting on Harvey's nerves. "Well, according to the letter she left me she was out fucking every dick she could get hold of." George was momentarily taken aback and didn't know what to say to that, so he sat staring at Harvey. For his part, Harvey had long ago stopped worrying about her reputation and didn't hesitate to tell anyone who asked that his wife had been a slut. It was the only form of revenge available to him now and he availed himself of it whenever possible.

"I'm sorry to hear that. She left you?"

"She died."

"Oh. I'm very sorry to hear that."

"I was too until I got that letter."

"What letter was that?"

Harvey wondered if George was listening at all. "She had a letter addressed to me tucked in with some of her personal effects. She left it someplace where she knew I'd find it. The letter detailed all the affairs she'd had over the course of our marriage. I guess she was looking for absolution."

George stared at Harvey still not knowing what to say.

"So we buried my ex-wife and now I'm wrestling with the feelings she left behind."

"Your ex-wife? You divorced her before she died?"

"No. I never knew about her betrayal until after she died. I just think of her that way. If I'd known while she was alive, I would have divorced her. So she's my ex-wife in death."

George just continued to stare at Harvey. He could only imagine the pain this man lived with. She died without giving him the chance to throw her out, to divorce her, or even scream at her. She died with tears in his eyes and a crippling sense of loss in his heart only to have it stomped on in a letter written from the beyond. What a coward she must have been! George was seeing Harvey in a new light now.

"Did she ever explain why she did it?" The words left his mouth before he could stop them! Of all the thoughtless things to say... What if she blamed him? What if she slammed his efforts in the bedroom?

"Not really. There was no meaningful explanation. I was gone too much, she was bored, or she just liked the attention, but apparently she felt some guilt over it and wanted to clear the air so to speak."

"I don't know what to say. Did you do anything after you read the letter?"

Harvey looked at George for what was really the first time. "Like what?"

"I don't know. I had a step-father who was a real bastard. When he died I took a piss on his grave." George was laughing at the memory of it. "I was surprised how much better I felt."

Harvey stared at George and thought, "I could never do that, could I? I mean, what if I got caught? What if... What could they do to me?"

Harvey downed the last of his beer and left some bills on the bar. He stood and slapped his friend on the back the way George had slapped him just a few minutes earlier. "My friend, I have a date with my ex-wife. I'll see you around!" With that, he walked out of the bar with his back straight, his head held high, and a bounce in his step that he had been missing for a year.

George watched Harvey walk away and pondered the last few minutes. "How does a man live with such hideous betrayal? How does he feel whole again and how does he move on? Where does he find closure?" He had no answers. Then he thought of Claire, his sister-in-law, and that worthless ex-husband that she divorced three years ago. Her story wasn't so different from Harvey's. He was a cheat and when she'd had enough of his games she divorced him, but it left her feeling empty and unworthy. George and his wife had talked about her many times. She, too, volunteered her free time down at the hospital. They were two wounded souls in search of healing.

George had never done anything like this in his life. It was about as far from his comfort level as walking a high wire at the circus, and maybe not so different, but he decided he would do it. He pulled his phone from his pocket, called his wife, and said, "Honey, would you be willing to throw a little dinner party next Friday? I've got someone I'd like your sister to meet..."

Epilogue:

This is how an old life ends and a new life begins. It's a choice, a cathartic moment when a man decides to reclaim his worth by no longer allowing others to define him. And it's a time when a man can discover that he has more friends than he knew.