Good Enough?

Regaining my composure, I sat on a chair opposite Dean, with a small low table between us that contained several scattered folders.

Pointing at Tom the cat, who was still growling lowly, not taking his eyes off me I said. "Wow Dean, were did you find Tom? I had been searching all over for him. I have not seen Tom since...um..ah..well."

Dean kept his hard eyes on me and sat silent in a pause that was more than uncomfortable for me.

Finally he spoke. "Well Barb, Marge brought Tom to me. She found him injured and rushed Tom to an emergency vet clinic. Seems Tom also spent some expensive time in the hospital."

"That bitch" I muttered under my breath, then fixing a smile on my face, I said louder. "I mean that was wonderful of Marge. We will have to find some way to pay her back."

Dean petted Tom some more. "Yeah Barb, you are all about the payback aren't you?"

I tried to fight the tears welling in my eyes. "Dean, I know I have made some bad decisions..."

Dean interrupted me with a short laugh. "Bad decisions? Bad Decisions make good stories, but shitty marriages."

I tried to ignore his jab. "I just started seeing myself as more. I thought I was better than I was. I thought I was special. Without ever actually saying it that way to myself, I thought I was smarter and more deserving than any of the people around me. I know better now"

I awaited Dean's reaction. Seconds seemed to tick away like hours before he spoke. "Beware of false knowledge, it is more dangerous than ignorance. Why are you here?"

"I am here Dean, to say I am sorry. To show you I know how you feel."

He let out another guttural laugh. "Know how I feel? I will always walk with a limp, plus be plagued with constant headaches and my balance will never be the same. Tell you what Barb, go have someone twice your size brain you with a lamp, crush most of your skull and then fall out a window from 30 feet. Maybe then we'll talk. Oh wait, also make sure to get stabbed in the back and betrayed by the one you cared for and trusted the most. I think finally figuring out you never loved me was worse than rehab."

"Dean THAT IS NOT TRUE!"

Dean smirked, "The truth will set you free, but not until it is finished with you."

I did not know how to respond. "I..I..don't know what to say, Dean."

Dean leaned back as Tom the cat jumped off his lap. "Come on Barb, the truth is easy, maintaining a web of lies is hard. Or are you going to pull Homer Simpson logic on me with his, 'It takes two to lie. One to lie, and one to listen,' spiel?"

Now I was starting to get mad. "I am not some idiot Dean, I can see the light!'

He chuckled "We all know that light travels faster than sound. That's why certain people appear bright until you hear them speak. I think you rightly fit into that category."

I tried to calm down. "Did you really feel the need to go after Shelly? After your complaints to the State board, they pulled Shelly's liquor license. She lost the bar."

Dean interlaced his fingers. "Yes it seems the Alcohol Commission takes its DRAM laws seriously and does not care for non-employees serving liquor. Shelly sent you to that Shitheads table. I see no reason Shelly should not reap some of what she sowed."

"It wasn't her fault Dean. The bar was swamped that night, Shelly was too busy to keep track of my stupidity."

He bored at me with his eyes "Shelly was not the only one 'Getting Busy' that night, was she, Barb?"

I was almost in tears. "Shelly was my longest best friend, now she will not even speak to me, and she was your friend too." I rubbed my eye. "The injury did something to you, and it's all my fault, you were always such a nice guy Dean. Why did you feel that you had to burn Shelly?"

Dean hunched forward. ""Burn' Shelly? I guess I am just an ash-hole now, because you know what they say about where 'nice guys' finish. Never EVER mistake niceness for weakness again." He leaned back. "So Barb, if you can't fly with the big girls, get off the broom."

This was like a nightmare. "You couldn't just take it out on me could you Dean? Has there not been enough pain and suffering? The DA did not press any charges. Their investigation just chalked it up to one big clusterfuck."

He pointed to a folder on the table with the State Seal on it. "Lies written in ink cannot disguise facts written in blood."

"Blood? Is that what you after Dean? My blood? You know we lost the shitheads civil suit when your brief supported his case."

Dean just stared at me. "I think Shithead never walking again and shitting in a bag for the rest of his life deserves something more than the memory of a fuck with you."

"That asshole should be happy he is still alive!"

"Barb," Dean said looking at me. "Many people are alive, only because it is illegal to shoot them"

I ignored that remark. "I am going to lose the house, they already started garnishing my wages. All our bank accounts are frozen, we have no money."

Dean seemed amused. "Yes, 'YOU' have no money." It was a statement not a question. He gestured around the grounds. "I'm just a poor whittler, trading my labor for meager room and board."

This was not going at all how I wanted this meet to go. I took a deep breath. "I can say I am sorry a million times, but I see now you are not ready to hear it. Just please, let's keep the lines of communication open. We'll cross the bridges as we come to them."

Dean pulled out a document from the pile on the table and tossed it at me. "Those are divorce papers. Sometimes you have to burn a few bridges to keep the crazies from following you."

++++++++++++

My life continued circling the drain for the next 16 months. I lost my job due to performance problems. It seems all my time was taken up with my new hobby of drinking, thus leaving little time for work, (when I did show up). Going to my job seemed pointless with Shithead garnishing a large chunk of my wages and endless hours trying to keep the creditors at bay for the rest of my paycheck.

There were bright spots, such as my jobs insurance coverage lasting long enough to complete treatment for the STD I picked up during one of my blackouts.

Today was the newest low point. I was waiting outside what was once my National Registry Home for a Bank Representative to come finalize the foreclosure. I had been promised $1500 in cash if I kept my old house in good condition to be handed over to the next owner.

That $1500, along with everything I had not sold or pawned, was in my dented minivan. I hoped the money would last long enough, along with my 4 almost bald tires, so I could make it to my new job. An elderly Aunt ran a combo inn/tavern way up north near the mining camps. I was gonna be with the 'Hicks in the Sticks'. Not a dream job, but it provided a place to stay at a price I could afford.

So naturally in my time of despair, who do I see coming toward me? The person who started this entire chain of events. That bitch Marge!

The fat cow was walking her ankle biter dog, a cigarette hanging from her lips. I silently prayed Marge would cross the street. But it was not to be as she walked right up to me.

"You bailing out?" Marge asked, blowing a lungful of smoke past me.

"Um..Yes Marge. I am going to help an old Aunt out up North. You know the old if one door shuts, another one opens thing."

"Barb, when this one door closes...you best get a hammer and some nails, keep the bitch closed."

"I beg your pardon?" I said watching Marge's little dog lift his leg to urinate on the front tire on my mini van.

Marge took another drag off her cigarette. "You are like some retarded Rapunzel in that fairy tale. Except you spin Gold into Straw. You are the only human being who managed to make Dean, one of the nicest men to ever shit between two legs, into a complete prick."

"Maybe he is just a prick to you Marge." I countered. "What do you care? You already threw him away. How is it any of your concern?"

Marge lit another cigarette off the one she was smoking. "You gotta be the dumbest cunt on this earth. I cut Dean loose because he was too nice a guy to leave me on his own. I knew he deserved better than me. We only got together after a drunken hook up. I am not stupid like you, I knew Dean just stayed with me so I would not look like some total slut."

I was not in the mood to argue with Marge. "Look if I could go back in time and change everything I would."

Marge bent over to pet her dog. "Naw, you'd suffer a time travel injury, like stupidity."

I pointed at the garish cross hanging from Marge's neck. "I thought you were a Christian. What happen to 'Love they neighbor'?"

"Jesus may love you, but you are still an asshole." She snapped back.

I waved my hand at Marge, as her and the dog turned to leave. "Well thank God I will have seen the last of you."

Marge never looked back but I heard her comment "Never think you have seen the last of anything."

++++++

My head was pounding and I was dying for a drink, when finally a BMW pulled up and out popped a well-dressed lady in her early thirties. She had the 'I am in Real Estate because my husband makes a lot of money and I am bored while the nanny takes care of the kids.' Look about her.

"You must be Barb, sorry I am late. Things have just been CRAZY. This is my third foreclosure today, and I have two more to go to. I have never seen it like this."

Her happy tone just grated on my nerves. "Oh my, how tough for you. I bet you miss the days when 'Bank Robbery' meant people robbed banks, not banks stealing people's homes."

"The Realtor looked confused as she pulled out a sheet of papers and envelope out of her designer bag. "I have your money right here, just as agreed upon. That should bring a smile to your face."

"Oh yes, trading my great grandfathers home that has been in my family for generations in return for less than a month's salary makes me want to dance the jig and break out in a song."

She tried to become unflustered. "Well the house will be in good hands. A bunch of wealthy old guys formed a trust and bought it up. They have agreed to keep it in the original condition. As soon as their caretaker gets here we can do a tour to confirm everything, and get you signed off and on your way."

Just then a loud rumble preceded a large motorcycle that stopped behind the BMW. The rider was your stereotypical biker, covered in tattoos with a leather vest, gloves and dark riding sunglasses. A Harley Davison head scarf was in place of a helmet. As he dismounted you could see the guy was not tall but extremely muscular, built like a solid fireplug.

My heart sank as the biker turned around to a crate on the back of the motorcycle. A big black cat escaped the box, jumped out and stretched itself out on the sidewalk.

The presence of Tom the cat confirmed the biker was Dean. He walked toward us with a pronounced limp, pausing to raise his sunglasses and light a big cigar clamped between his lips.

Dean strode up to the realtor, ignoring me completely. "Let's get this bitch done."

The realtor waved her hand in an exaggerated gesture of dispersing Dean's cigar smoke. "I would appreciate it if you would not smoke in my presence."

Dean paused to remove the cigar from his mouth, but made no move to extinguish the burning ember and addressed the relator. "Listen hard, you future first wife. I am not here for your fucking appreciation."

She looked taken aback; I do not think she was used to being spoken like that at her country club. The relator attempted a different tack pointing at Dean's cigar. "Do you know how unhealthy those things are?"

Dean looked at his cigar. "This? My grandfather lived to 95 years old."

"Smoking cigars?" The relator asked with a quizzical look on her face.

"No" Dean replied putting the cigar back in his mouth. "He lived to 95 years old by minding his own God damn business."

The relator pulled the designer handbag tight to her chest as Dean took a step closer to her before speaking. "Looks like it's true the only difference between porcupines and BMWs is that with porcupines the pricks are on the outside."

He gestured toward the house. "You are here to collect your commission." Dean pointed at me. "I'm sure that someplace a fleet is pulling into Port the cheating slut here needs to service, you can join her for all I care. But first before you send her on her way, get the keys from this stupid cunt."

Finally I spoke up. "Dean, I am asking you to not to insult me."

Dean's harsh eyes turned on me. "Oh, did I make you feel bad by calling you stupid? I am sorry, I thought you knew."

The relator must have suddenly figured out we knew each other and tried to defuse the encounter with a forced laugh. "Oh Well, you know everything happens for a reason."

Dean never took his eyes off me as he said "Barb, your reason is you are stupid and do stupid shit. But look at it this way, Jellyfish have no brain and have lived for a 150 million years, so there is hope for you."

I wanted to crawl into a hole. "Let's get this done, so I can get my money and get out of here. Then you can be happy."

Dean waved his cigar at me. "Yes, seeing you so fills me with joy, I better sit on my hands to keep from clapping in glee."

He turned to the relator. "Give that slut the envelope before she starts flagging down cars and turning tricks. I am sure the only room in the house that whore damaged was the bedroom from overuse."

The relator looked unsure, but Dean snatched the envelope out of her hands and pushed it into my palm.

I saw it was full of $100 bills. Dean smirked. "I know you are not familiar getting money when you are not in the horizontal positon, but don't worry, you will be on your back, legs in the air or on your knees in no time."

I so wanted to throw the money in his face, but practicality overrode pride.

Turning on my heel, I walked to my battered ride and drove, wiping tears away that blurred the cracked rear view mirror image of Dean standing holding Tom the cat, in front of what was once my home, I remember another of Shelly's old Grandmother sayings:

"If you ever want to feel rich, you should just counted all the things you have that money can't buy"