February Sucks: Same Old Me (2of4)

Rich had called me. Linda got the message Her mom had left and called to check on the kids. She was going to get them tomorrow. Under pressure, she confessed her extramarital adventure and tried to assure them that it wasn't a big deal, but her parents had presented a unified front and told her that she was dead wrong about that, and she had seriously damaged her marriage and her family. Rich assured me that there would be consequences when she arrived the next day.

L.W. called just to let me know that Linda had called and obliquely asked if he'd heard from me. He told her that he had seen me, that he'd counseled me about options for the dissolution of marriage but that nothing was being filed yet, and he would speak with us together about it after we'd met with the marriage counselor. He'd said he did not know where I was, but he would tell me that she'd called.

Pete checked up on me and wanted to know when I'd be by that night. I called him back and said I'd take him and Dave out for dinner, then headed back to the condo for that. Pete had already made lasagna, so they took a rain check on me buying dinner.

"Dee called me," said Pete. "Just to let you know. She was looking for Dave, and Linda must have asked her to be on the lookout for you, too. I did not tell her that either of you were here, but I did press her on why he'd walked out on her, and she only said, and I quote, 'He's just being a stubborn jerk.' She would not say what they were fighting about, only that it was none of my business."

"Sounds like her," I said. Dave was nodding, halfway through another beer. Was I going to have to worry about him? "Hey, didn't we say no alcohol?"

"I suggested it," said Pete. "You guys are grown men, you do what you want. But since you brought it up, Jim, it would be a shame not to have a small glass of chianti with this. It won't kill you."

I accepted, and he was right, the lasagna practically demanded it. Frankie paced a figure-eight pattern rubbing herself between my ankles hoping for a handout, while Pete advised me not to indulge her.

"Do you guys think Dee would come over here looking for us?"

"Definitely," said Dave. "Any time, now."

"Shit. I've gotta move my car. She's gonna see it and call Linda."

"Good luck, man. Visitor spots are going to be all parked up."

"Hang on," said Pete, getting up and stepping out the kitchen door. He came back with a bundled tarp. "This is a car cover. I use it sometimes when I'm out of town on business or if there's going to be a lot of snow or something. It's universal size. It might fit what you're driving."

"Pete, you're brilliant." We went outside and covered my car with seconds to spare. Someone's headlights were coming around the corner and sure enough, it was Dee. Fortunately, I didn't even have time to get inside, I just ducked down behind the covered car while Dee argued with Pete on his doorstep. It wasn't long before Dave came out and Pete went in. I heard my name tossed around a couple of times, and Linda's, too, before Dee stomped off angrier than ever.

I went back in when Dave was telling Pete "Well, that sucked."

"Anything different? Anything new?"

"No. Well, yeah. I accused her of cheating on me and using Linda to cover for her."

I sucked air in through my teeth to make an "sssssss" noise and said "Oooo that's not good."

"So much for de-escalation," Pete added.

"Yeah, she was pretty pissed off. She went from demanding that I 'Stop acting like a child and come home' to 'Stay the fuck away from me you fucking asshole.'"

"That would do it."

"She didn't actually deny it though! She just got mad. She deflected and attacked. She didn't try to explain herself or anything."

"Dave?" Pete asked, "What exactly did you ask her to explain?"

"I asked her to explain how she coordinated with Linda so quickly and easily, like they'd done it a thousand times before. No hesitation. No effort. Absolute certainty that this would have no impact on the marriage. Because this is how they've operated for years, right?"

"Okay, that was sure to piss her off," I said.

"I don't see why," said Pete. "If Dee is so convinced that what they did was okay, why should she be mad that you're accusing her of it? What's wrong with doing something that's fine? Here you go, Dave; 'I accuse you of putting Sirracha on Chinese food! You've done so for years, you bastard!' Does that make you upset?"

"No, of course not." Dave wrinkled his brow. "So that means that either Dee actually thinks it's NOT fine... or she thinks it IS fine but she's mad that I'm mad at her? Like, because she thinks it's unreasonable for me to be mad?"

"You tell me, brother of mine. I don't think your wife is making any sense at all."

"Jim? What's your take?"

"I don't even understand the question."

"What's up Dee's butt?"

"Right." I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. God, what a mess. My mind was still jumping from here to there about 'Linda Linda Linda What The Fuck Linda,' but I forced myself to focus on why Dee would be angry and aggressive.

"Okay. I've got something. Hear me out. Dee is telling everyone, including herself, that it's perfectly fine for Linda, or indeed ANY woman, to run off and cheat on her husband in the right kind of circumstance. As long as it's a random encounter, she can say 'It's no big deal, it's fine, this has nothing to do with my marriage, I still love him and it doesn't change the way I feel, and this is just all in good fun.' She thinks that means it's cool, it's all good. Right? That's what she's telling herself. But it's BULLSHIT, and she knows it. She's mad because you're calling her out on her bullshit. She's wrong, she KNOWS she's wrong, but she's committed to her position and she doesn't want to feel vulnerable and be TOLD that she's wrong."

Pete and Dave were looking at me with their jaws hanging open.

"Does... does that make sense, you guys?"

"Hoh. Lee. Shit." said Dave. "That's it. That's got to be it."

"Makes sense," said Pete. "She's not being aggressive, she's being defensive. She's like a cornered animal."

Dave nodded. "All she can do is double down. That's all she's got. That's her justification. And she's GOT to have it be like that, because the bitch has been cheating on me like that for fucking years and tells herself it's okay. She can't accept that it's not. She figures as long as she's smashing bits with strangers for fun, it doesn't count as long as she tells herself 'it doesn't affect our marriage.' Being wrong means that she's the asshole, and she's been the asshole all along."

"Hang on, bro. We're just guys sitting around talking." Pete waved his hand in a circle. "We don't know shit. This proves nothing. We've got a theory, that's all. Dee's not here. There aren't any women here to give us their insight and feedback. And it's too late to go calling anybody. This is just a sausage party, and we're talking out our asses."

"It's actually not too late." I took out my phone. "I was talking to Rose today. She said I could call her anytime, two in the morning, whatever. We could check with her."

"Dude, I thought you didn't want Linda to know you were with me," said Dave. "Don't go blabbing to the bitchy sisterhood just yet."

"Yeah. Yeah, that's smart. I'll call her tomorrow and I'll tell her I talked to you. Or, hey, maybe you could ask Helen. Didn't she and Gus try to support you?"

"Yeah, they tried. I could do that. But tomorrow. For now, I'm convinced. Hey, did that lawyer say he'd take my case? Or whatever?"

"He wanted to refer you to a guy. Hang on." I still had my phone out, so I sent him the contact information L.W. had given me. "There you go. This guy apparently enjoys a fight. L.W. doesn't."

"Thanks, Jim. I'll call him tomorrow. Shit, tomorrow's Sunday. I'll leave a message. Shit. Well, if I'm going to leave a message, I might as well do it tonight. Excuse me." He went into the other room to make the call.

"So, Jim. How was today?" Pete was asking me if I was still in shock without asking me if I was still in shock.

"I'm still in shock. I think. I don't know. I feel kind of numb. I'm making plans and doing things, putting one foot in front of the other. Making phone calls, trying to get my head on straight. I want to talk to Linda and grab her and scream 'What the hell happened? What the hell is wrong with you?' but I also DON'T want to do that. I feel like she wants to get at me while I still don't know which way is up, so she can re-establish everything like it was, and hope I forget all about this. But I can't. I won't. I've got a lot of shit to figure out, and I don't want to be under her spell while I do."

Pete was nodding. "Makes sense. Look, I want to be perfectly clear that this..." he waved around at his condo, "... is a toxic environment. You're in the company of men who've lost faith in the institution of marriage. I've been thinking about what I've said to you and to Dave, and I really don't want to poison you against your wives. You ought to take everything I've said with a grain of salt. Hell, several tablespoons of salt. A whole damn canister of Morton's salt- When It Rains, It Pours. I mean, I'm serious about going to the gym and working on yourselves in other ways, but aside from that, how you choose to interpret what's going on is up to you, and only you. So, by Monday, I need you to find someplace else to crash, not just for my sake, but for yours. It wouldn't be healthy for you to stay here with us. Talk to other people. Talk to women. Talk to your family. Get some perspective from somebody other than men whose wives have done them wrong. You owe yourself that while you're in this process, okay?"

"That's smart. I've already talked to Mom today, and I will tomorrow, too. We're making progress. I'll check in with Rose and Andy again tomorrow. And I'll find a place."

"Good. It's important to be social. The last thing you want to do is crawl into a hole and not talk to anybody for a year and a half, like I did. And hey, I'll bet you guys are sick and tired of talking about this. You need a distraction."

He powered up his unreasonably large TV and booted up a classic James Bond movie- "Goldeneye." He also pulled out a small selection of board games and was going through them when Dave came back in.

"I've got Settlers of Catan and Ticket To Ride, which are good for three players. Jenga. Clue. I've also got my Playstation, but that's mostly single player and two player stuff. Now, turn your brains off and pick."

What followed was one of the more pleasant evenings I'd had since Christmas. I tried to put Linda and Dee out of my head with partial success, laughed and smack-talked with Dave and Pete, and went to bed... er, couch... with a smile.

***

Sunday was less busy, but no less eventful. I awoke with Frankie laying unabashedly across my chest and looking at me as if she either wanted me to feed her, or like she wanted to punch me in the nose. I fed her, hoping to stay friends, then grabbed a shower and headed out.

I started by tackling the problem of where I'd be staying. I wanted something close, and sensible, but not SO close and sensible that Linda would figure out where I was. And if she did, I had to be able to either make her go away, or I had to quickly move and vanish again. The office was out, that would be one of the first places she'd look. The extended stay hotels made too much sense, that's where she'd look next. The anonymous motels along the highway were too expensive and too scuzzy. It was still too cold to go camping.

Was it? March comes in like a lion, but goes out like a lamb. I had a cold weather sleeping bag back at the house, but I hadn't used any of that gear since before Emma was born. If I snuck back in there, would Linda even know it was gone? Was any of that stuff still good? Shit, were the campgrounds even open? A quick check revealed that they were not. Still, Linda was going to be gone for at least six or seven hours today to go get Emma and Tommy from her parents' place, so I should be able to raid my own house without difficulty.

I could live like a homeless person out of my car for a couple of days, I guessed. At least a few nights until I'd figure something else out. Maybe until Thursday, when I might hopefully reach an accord with Linda. I went out and joined a gym, like Pete insisted. They had multiple locations around town, including right by where I work, and I could shower and use the bathroom there while I was homeless. I also bought a car cover like Pete's at the auto parts store. It has a Velcro closure over the driver's side door so I could get in and out without taking the whole thing off, which meant I could not only disguise my car from Linda, but I could sleep in there with some measure of privacy if I had to.

A more immediate concern was how to evade Linda at my job, where I was sure she'd strike. I didn't usually travel for business, begging off those assignments and doing everything I could to get others to go because I wanted to be home for Emma and Tommy, but maybe now would be a good time to take my turn. I think I remembered that they might need somebody in Atlanta. I sent an email to Larry and marked it 'urgent' so hopefully he'd see it first thing on Monday.

I swung by the house and Linda's car was gone. I pillaged the camping equipment, more clothes and things I might need, and was out of there. I considered taking some of the family photos off the walls and smashing them, but I didn't want the kids coming home to broken glass. Linda had cleaned up the vomit and presumably found my ring. On the way out of the house, I called Andy.

"Jim!"

"Hey Andy. What are you and Rose doing for lunch today?"

"We didn't have plans."

"Meet me at the Willing Mind? My treat. I want to pick your brains about something. Don't tell Linda until afterwards. Dee, either."

"Sure, sure. Hang on, let me tell Rosie." He muted for a few seconds. "Okay, we'll see you there. What time?"

"They open at eleven thirty. Let's say quarter to noon."

"We'll be there. And it's our treat, okay?"

"Bend my arm. Yeah, okay. This time."

"Did you want to ask anybody else? Gus and Helen? Phil and Jane?"

"I'm trying to stay low profile. Maybe. One or the other, if they promise to be discrete. I don't want to make a whole big thing about it today. And I'm dead serious- DO NOT let Linda or Dee Know One Goddamn Thing about it until afterwards. If either one of them shows up, I'm gone, out the door, and I'm not above shoving anybody onto the floor on my way out."

"Understood. We'll see you then."

***

The Willing Mind was done up like a nineteenth-century workingman's pub, and it felt like one, too. Stepping in there just made me relax and forget about everything for a second, anticipating food and drink and letting the day's worries slip loose. It wasn't far from where I work, but it was far enough from the suburban houses of worship that the after-church crowds wouldn't be much of a factor. I got there right when they opened and got us a table near the bar. I had a clear line to the exit in the back in case anybody decided to spill the beans, but Linda was still occupied with picking up the kids, so I didn't think I was in all that much danger. Gus and Helen showed up first.

"Jim," said Gus, "How have you been?" I hadn't spoken to them since That Night. God, was it really just two days ago? Not even. Forty hours, maybe? It felt like a lifetime. In a way, it was- that life is over.

"Furious. Heartbroken. Staggering around in stark disbelief. Disoriented. Betrayed. And furious. Did I say furious already? Really fucking furious. You?"

"Ah. Not as bad as that. Worried, mostly."

Helen nodded. "We've been concerned. About you, especially. Also about Linda, and Dave and Dee, too. Dave is so angry that he's staying with his brother. He says he might move out entirely. He said he's seriously thinking about divorce. Did you know that?"

"I did. I talked to him yesterday." Better to play my cards close to the vest.

"But Dee didn't actually cheat on him, though. She just... well, you know."

"No sense in beating around the bush today, Helen. By 'you know,' you mean that she helped Linda run off to fuck another man. She did so because she believes that this is a perfectly appropriate thing to do, and to hell with however the stupid husband feels about it. The stupid fucking husband is just a complication to be managed when Strange Cock becomes available. A little speed bump in the way of a tremendous opportunity. If Dee has that attitude towards Linda's marriage, she must think the same way about her own. Especially since she said so."

Helen paled and swallowed. "Okay. Well. Yes. When you put it like that, it sounds pretty bad."

"It IS pretty bad, Helen."

"Okay. Yes. Yes, it is bad. I can even see how it might start a fight. But don't you think he's overreacting a bit? Spending the night at his brother's? Especially since she didn't do anything?"

"She WOULD have, though, that's the thing. She still might! And maybe she already has! That's the kind of behavior Dave now knows he can expect from his wife. Dee should be quite reasonably worried that her husband wouldn't want to stay married to a woman like that."

That shut Helen up for a second. Lynn, my favorite waitress, came by for our drink orders. She was in her forties, with a plump, motherly bustle about her. Give her a few years and she'd be a Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving grandma. She was very good at her job, never really talked with anyone, and certainly didn't flirt. Her smile of recognition faded when she saw our expressions and realized that the conversation was grim indeed.

"Two more are coming, Lynn. Thank you," I said, right as Andy and Rose walked in. "And here they are. Lynn, this is Gus, Helen, Andy, and Rose."

Rose didn't sit down, but came around to my side of the table and pulled me out of my chair into a hug.

"I'm sorry, Jim. I'm so, so, sorry."

It was the first hug I'd had in days and I was surprised by how much I needed it. Helen looked vaguely ashamed that her first instinct had been to chide me. Lynn raised an eyebrow but discreetly took a step back. Andy looked on with admiration rather than jealousy. Gus was just puzzled. Rosie whispered "you're a good man and you don't deserve to be treated like that" into my ear before letting me go and taking the seat between me and her husband.

We ordered a round of sodas, waters, and iced teas and an appetizer sampler while the others fussed with the menus. I already knew I wanted the french dip. I came in every few weeks and I guess that pretty much made me a regular at the place.

"Before anybody else asks me how I am or how I'm doing," I began, "The answer is shitty. I'm shitty. I'm profoundly shitty. Lost souls go on pilgrimage to the Himalayas seeking spiritual enlightenment and they ponder the eternal cosmic mysteries of just exactly how fucking shitty I am. But I'm working on it. Please don't tell me that I have to talk to Linda. I will. Do not insist that I have to give her another chance because of the marriage and the children. Please don't say that I have no choice but to forgive her and somehow find my way past this. That's NOT helpful. Right now, I'm taking the time and the space to get my head clear so I can make the decisions I need to make. I will not be manipulated. I will not be coerced. Most importantly, I will NOT be taken for granted. Are we all agreed?"

"Of course," said Andy, with Rosie nodding enthusiastically beside him. Gus and Helen looked like I'd taken the wind out of their sails because that was pretty much exactly what they'd come here to say, but they decided to appease me with a pair of halfhearted yeses.

"Good. First things first. I've arranged an appointment with a marriage counselor named Susan Manette on Thursday. I will speak with Linda in that session, but not before. I don't want her tears. I don't want any apologies that don't fix anything. I am not going to listen when she says 'Can't we please just work this out between us,' and I WILL NOT be guilted, bribed, or pressured into simply accepting ANY of what she's done. Our marriage, our home, and our children are NOT going to be used as weapons against me.