A Knock at My Door

This is a very short story about a guy who lost his wife.

Another Saturday night in front of the TV, clicker in hand, searching for an Action/Adventure flick I haven't seen more than twice. This is what my once-busy life had become, a boring routine. Hell, that was probably her problem, I was fucking boring!

There may have been a few other reasons, God knows I'm not the best-looking guy around and certainly not the richest. I have always been on the quiet side, so it's no stretch to believe she thought I was boring.

It hadn't always been that way. In the beginning, we hung out with our hip friends and partied pretty often. We both liked booze and pot but were never into harder drugs. My buddies always flirted with her. She loved the attention and, as far as I know, they never took things too far. Life was easy and we knew how to chill.

Later, the other wives were maybe a little jealous because Julie had a nice rack, slim waist, and lovely bubble butt, even after two kids. She would still flirt and entertain the guys and some of the wives may have felt a bit threatened by her, but they still liked her. Everybody liked her.

As the kids grew our lives got busy and, sadly, routine. I guess I could have planned a few more Date-Nights, or something, but I worked hard and I was tired. I made decent money and we lived an upper-middle-class life.

Julie was an involved parent and took part in all the school functions with our kids while I worked fifty-sixty hours a week. I was proud of my family and they were good to me. Julie was a willing sex partner, a good cook, managed the house well, and the kids prospered. I did my best to be at most major events, but mostly Julie carried the load.

I've heard it said that sometimes life happens to you. Well, it seemed to have happened to me overnight. One minute, Julie and I are passing around a joint with friends while sitting on the floor of our crappy little 3rd-floor apartment. The next, we're in suburbia hosting a pool party for my younger son to celebrate his Middle School graduation. I mean, holy fuck, how did that happen? My youngest is starting High School!

I remember that weekend because it was the very next day that Julie told me she was returning to work at her old law firm. She'd been a homemaker for 16 years and now at 40, she was going back to work as a PA for her former mentor's latest protege.

"What? When did this happen? We haven't discussed you going back to work. What about the kids?"

"KIDS? Really, Michael, the boys don't need me around, especially now that David has a car. He understands he has to haul his little brother around for school stuff or he loses the car. I've got to do something, I would go nuts just sitting on my ass.

"A few weeks back I mentioned it to Marie at her last event and she must have said something to John because he called last week and asked me to come in and talk with him. He introduced me to Ian Rogers and we all went to lunch."

"You never told me you met with John and this Ian guy."

"I never thought they would actually hire me. Hell, I'm a Mom, not a PA. After lunch, we went back to John's office and I sat in with his PA for a couple of hours. Alice is even a few years older than me, but she's very sharp. My computer skills are still pretty good, and she said the rest is just controlling his calendar.

"I don't know, maybe Marie pressed him, but Friday John and Ian offered me the job on a 90-day trial basis. I'm both nervous and excited about it. I had hoped you'd be more supportive. Do you have a problem with me accepting the job?"

"Uh, well, no. I guess you just kind of shocked me with this, it's so sudden. When do you start?"

And that was the beginning of the end of us. It took the handsome young Ian just seventeen months to fall in love with Julie and convince her to go with him when he was courted by a larger firm in London.

"I'm sorry, Michael. I never meant for any of this to happen. We've fallen in love, he's moving to England and I'm going with him. I've explained it to the boys. They are unhappy with me, of course, but that can't be helped. I'm leaving you everything except my clothes and jewelry."

It was the shock of a lifetime. I was stunned into silence. I sat in my chair, tears suddenly sliding down my cheeks, as she paced back and forth, wringing her hands.

"I fought my feelings for him for months before surrendering myself. I have tried to spare you any kind of public scandal by being very discrete. I'm sure all of our friends will be very shocked to learn what's happened when it becomes common knowledge."

I found my voice and couldn't hide the sarcasm. "Oh, that's so very kind of you, my Dear."

"Oh god, Michael, I'm so sorry! I never wanted to hurt you. You're a wonderful man, and I still love you deeply."

"You're just no longer IN love with me, right, Darling?"

She hung her head, sighed deeply, and said, "I'm so sorry, but I have to go with him, Goodbye, Michael."

I silently sat and watched as the taxi driver carried her bags out to the car. Funny that, I hadn't even noticed them sitting by the door.

Four years later I turned and glanced at that same door as the soft chimes of the doorbell repeated themselves. Then I heard knuckles rapping on the large wooden door. I looked at my watch, 8:30. Who could be interrupting "Rocky XII", or whatever the fuck it was. I made my way to the door and pulled it open a foot or so.

"Hello, Michael. I know this must be a shock, but I'm back. I've come home to you."

I stared into the face of my Ex-wife, the mother of my children, the former love of my life. I had not seen or spoken to her in four years. The lawyers had done all the paperwork and collected all the signatures. True to her word, she had given me everything and it was quickly being consumed by the University my sons had chosen to attend.

She had cut her long blonde hair short, I could see a bit of gray in her dark roots. She had a few wrinkles and had gained a little weight, but she still looked beautiful. She had a pile of bags on the walk behind her and a messenger bag hung from her shoulder. Her navy blue skirt matched her heels and her white blouse was open enough to display an impressive amount of cleavage. She smiled broadly at me.

"Do I know you?"

She recoiled in shock. "Michael! Don't be silly."

"You look familiar, ... but do I know you?"

"Of course you do! It's me, Julie, I've come home. Please, Michael, let me in."

"I'm sorry, Ma'am, this is NOT your home and I don't know you."

Her mouth fell open, she stared for a moment and then nodded. "Okay, Michael, I can see you're still mad at me. ...I guess I can't fault you for that, but please let me in, we have so much to talk about."

"Sorry, I can't let you in. I don't know you. I realized that four years ago when you stood in front of me, confessed your love for another man, and walked out of my life. ... Now I'm missing a very exciting part of my movie, so please excuse me. If I hear from my sons, I'll let them know you stopped by."

I closed the door and returned to my chair. I had to increase the volume to drown out the banging and screeching at my door.