Responding With Shock And Awe

I alone set the rules for my fictional legal system. If that bothers you, seek professional help.

Islam Yusuf: "But if you wanna leave, take good care. Hope you make a lot of nice friends out there. But just remember there's a lot of bad and beware."

= = = =

Confused. I guess that best describes my current mental state. It's 10 Am on a Tuesday morning, and I've just been served. Not with divorce papers, but a legal separation.

Daisy, my wife of twenty six years wants a trial separation. You would have thought that I should have seen it coming. I must be too dense to pick up on the signals. Not more than a month ago we took a week long cruise to celebrate our anniversary. There wasn't a hint that anything was wrong.

No answer when I tried calling her cell. She works in real estate, more specifically development. I work in aerospace. Well, that's embellishing a bit. I push scared shitless skydivers out of a flawlessly functioning airplane. Most of my time is spent doing paperwork. Bureaucrats and insurance you know. We've never had more than a broken leg out of several thousand wet pants.

I sat and contemplated the possibilities. There were tears. Was my ego bruised? You can bet your ass it was. Would I grovel? Not a fucking chance. This is absolutely unacceptable so I am on the warpath. The damage has been done, so it's time to avoid the shrapnel.

Our legal consultants don't handle family matters, but I'm real good friends with their attorneys as we talk several times each week.

"Jeff Mills speaking."

"Hey Jeff, Vince here. Quick question for you. Can you refer me to a family law attorney?"

"Sounds ominous. Let me see. Want a blood thirsty one or a beautiful day in the neighborhood type?"

"Jugular."

"We'll have to have coffee, and soon. I'll text you her phone number."

Thirty minutes later, I was listening to elevator music as I made my way up to the sixteenth floor. Marilyn Roberts had a cancellation and was available, if I hurried over. So hurry I did. Her next available appointment was two weeks away if I didn't take this one.

"Good morning Mr. Emerson. Sorry to keep you waiting. You have something for me to look at?"

I handed over the manila envelope holding the separation agreement.

"And you want me to do what?"

"Well, I have already quickly scanned through it. Looks like she wants a ninety day trial separation. There are a few ways where this turns into a divorce. Either party can trigger the divorce at any time. I want to do that, and without hesitation. I need to know what I'm entitled to do with my finances, and when."

"How long have you been having marital problems?"

"I wasn't aware that I was having marital problems. Totally blindsided by this. I need to protect myself."

"Is it possible she caught you cheating?"

"Not a chance in hell. I've got no skeletons in my closet."

"Have you talked with her?"

"She failed to answer my call this morning, and has yet to respond to my voicemail or text message."

"Well, she certainly didn't research the law firm representing her. They hardly ever appear in family matters. They're mostly know for real estate deals."

"That's very interesting, as she works for a real estate developer. What's that old saying 'Where there's smoke, there's fire'?"

"And you're sure you want to pull the trigger on a divorce. She'll get half of the assets."

"We've been married for twenty five years. I have to assume that whatever is behind this is a deal breaker. I'm too old to put up with this kind of sh...eep."

Marilyn smirked "Shit! Feel free to vent in any language you'd like. It's alright. You're pretty calm about this. We can do most of this electronically. If they're paying attention, she'll know about it long before my process server tracks her down."

"Do it. I need to use the restroom. Then, I want you to tell me how to protect myself."

As this wasn't Marilyn's first rodeo, her secretary gave me a ten page document of things I needed to think about. From life insurance beneficiaries to country club memberships, the list contained suggestions and timelines. The country club was easy, as we didn't belong to one. It was quite an eye opener, all the things I needed to document. Did we have any fine art? Coins? Rare artifacts? My baseball card collection wasn't all that valuable, to anyone but me. Signed cards I'd gotten as a kid, from players who are just footnotes in the history of the game. Still, they took the time to sign my cards.

Back at my office, I spent the rest of the day partially working. Credit cards were cancelled. Money transferred to pay off their balances. With a few phone calls, our car loans were now paid off. I took half of our remaining checking account, and put a withdrawal freeze on what little was left in our savings account. With interest rates so low, I paid the early termination fee on all of our CDs. They were scattered across several local and internet banks. The proceeds would be sent to the frozen savings account.

Still no word from Daisy. Do I go home? Marilyn's handbook suggested otherwise, unless I feared Daisy would loot the house. I decided to swing by, as I was filled with a thousand questions. Thankfully, I think, she wasn't home. Around six, my phone chimed. It was Daisy. As much as I wanted to talk to her, I couldn't slide the green button across. I let it go to messages.

'Vince! What the hell are you doing? My credit cards have been denied. You're ruining this. CALL ME! NOW!'

Instead of returning her call, I gathered up my electronics, guns, and golf clubs. I only packed enough clothes to last a week. Next up was taking several hundred photos of everything in our home. Truth be told, very little of it tugged at my heart. I was heartbroken and depressed, but mostly filled with outrage. Not a hint that any of this was coming. With the blessing of the owner of the aviation company, to use my company credit card, I checked into an extended stay place close to work.

+ + + +

Daisy was served at her office on Wednesday. In the paperwork was a demand for a list of all assets Daisy wanted to include in the settlement. We have a divorce preliminary hearing tentatively set up for two weeks from Friday. Marilyn told me that this is where things get interesting. Many blindsided spouses usually fail to complete a comprehensive list. That ends up haunting them when the final decree comes down.

Marilyn's strategy was to claim any asset not specifically identified by Daisy. Although my guns, sporting goods, and electronics had already been removed, I did inform Marilyn of what I had taken.

My guess is that the papers were served around nine thirty. You got it. Constant stream of calls, texts, and emails since nine thirty one.

Around noon, our secretary squawked on my airplane radio. She's a shared resource for myself and two other pilots.

"Hey Vince. Just a heads up. You've got one pissed off wife waiting for you and she's all coiled up and hissing. What do you want me to tell her?"

"Things that I'd blush saying to you. Tell her I'll text her where and when to meet. Oh, and also tell her that she'll be arrested if she tries to go out on the tarmac."

There was no sign of Daisy when I landed. I texted Marilyn's office address to Daisy.

Marilyn provided a conference room equipped with video and audio recording. Daisy was waiting when I strolled in ten minutes late to our 4 Pm conference.

Daisy stood and attempted to hug and kiss me, which I deftly avoided.

"So this is how it's going to be?" Daisy hissed.

"To make these legal, I'm informing you that both video and audio recordings are being made of this meeting. If that is unacceptable to you, leave now. Staying means you have waived your right to dispute the validity of these recordings."

I read that from the placard next to the on/off switches for the equipment. I turned both on.

"How can we talk privately then?"

"I don't want to talk privately. That should have happened weeks, if not months ago. Staying or leaving?"

"Fine. I'm staying. Why are you filing for a divorce?"

"Your separation document gives either party the right to turn it into a divorce. I'm taking that route."

"The whole point of the separation was to avoid a divorce. You know, explore whether we really wanted one."

"Well now you know. I want one. You're damaged goods as far as I'm concerned. Time for me to move on."

That brought out the bitch in Daisy "HOW AM I DAMAGED GOODS?"

"Got anything else to discuss? You're the one that wanted this meeting?"

"Answer me dammit! How am I damaged goods?"

"Sneaking around behind my back to have separation papers drawn up. Not a word that you were unhappy with our marriage. Your actions killed any trust I have in anything you say or do. Now, one more time. You wanted this meeting, start talking or I'm leaving."

"Where did you stay last night?"

"None of your concern."

"Are you coming home tonight?"

"Not likely, but you never know."

"Why won't you talk to me?"

"Too late for that. You did what you did without consulting me beforehand, so I took my action without consulting you."

"What if I withdraw it?"

"Doesn't matter. The terms of your legal filing allowed me to turn it into a divorce. I've chosen that route, and am not about to stop it."

"Why are you being so stubborn about this?"

"I don't see that I am. I'm simply taking advantage of the opportunity which you provided."

Daisy was back on the offensive "I'll get half of the assets."

"So will I."

"What about the house?"

"You can buy me out or we sell it. It's too big for me now that the kids are gone."

"Just like that? Have you been wanting to divorce me?"

"Since Tuesday morning. That's why you were served today."

"I don't understand."

"What's not to understand? You want out, and I'm letting you go. Hope it all works out for you. Look, this is a waste of time. Get to it or I'm gone."

"What's it going to take to stop the divorce?"

"One of us dying I guess. You should know you are no longer my beneficiary on anything. The kids are. Likewise, I've updated my will to only grant you your marital fifty percent if I die before the final decree is issued."

"You're serious? This isn't a stunt?"

"As serious as cancer."

When Daisy failed to talk for thirty seconds, I grabbed my coat "See you at the preliminary."

"Vince, come back here. I'm not done with you."

"That may well be, but fortunately for me, I AM done with you."

I was proud of myself. Marilyn warned me to avoid accusations of infidelity. It will probably take a long time for my tongue to heal, as hard as I was biting down on it.

After Tuesday night's tossing and turning, I bought some Baileys and self-sedated myself with spiked coffee. My head hurt like hell Thursday morning.

+ + + +

Daisy and I met on a cruise ship. I and a few of my pussy patrol buddies were doing a really short trip out of Ft. Lauderdale. Daisy and a few of her cock seeking friends were doing the same thing. Not only was it my first time trying this approach, Daisy claimed it was her first too.

Looks wise, we were the type that wouldn't even be considered as extras in a movie scene. We were too plain looking. Early on Daisy was very self-conscious about her lack of boobs. I've since paid to have them upgraded, her request not mine. Now, as we approach fifty, they still stick up tall and proud. So, even though we're both showing our age, she still turns heads with those knockers.

Our life has been a lot less traumatic than almost all of our friends. No relatives dying early. No cancer concerns or other mysterious illnesses. Both of our kids were active in sports, but gave it up rather than bust their asses to ride the bench in college. That allowed them to focus on their studies, and unfortunately, the opposite sex.

As is typical, we lived in an apartment until we found jobs we wanted to keep. Then, we rented a small house and saved every extra penny until we could make a down payment on our first house. We moved shortly after our second child was born.

+ + + +

It was only a matter of time before my kids started calling. I wonder what flavor of bullshit they'd been fed.

First off, at nine fifteen, my daughter Dora called. She's my youngest and a senior at State.

"Morning Kitten. Wonder why you're calling me at work?"

"Cut the crap dad. Mom says you're divorcing her."

"So did she tell you what precipitated it?"

"She said you were angry at something she'd done."

"That would be correct. She wanted to skip out on being married for a few months, so she filed for a legal separation. That document allows me to turn it into a divorce, which is what I did."

"What did you do to drive her away?"

"Haven't a clue. You should ask her."

"This makes no sense. Shouldn't you guys get marriage counseling or something?"

"Why? She wants out. I'm accommodating her."

"I'll call you back."

And the beep I heard ended that call. My son Daniel graduated from college with honors last year and has a good job in marketing. I really didn't expect to hear from him until later in the evening. His call came in around 7 Pm.

"Hey dad. I heard from Dora and she's all fired up about mom. What's going on?"

"Well, I have very few details other than your mother had me served with legal separation papers on Tuesday. I countered with divorce papers on Wednesday. Now you know as much as I do. Your mother gave me no warning that this was coming. Did you or Dora have any inclination?"

"Not me. Last time I talked with mom was, geez, a couple of months ago. Do you think she has a lover?"

"Son, if I start allowing myself thoughts like that, I'd probably want to kill her. For now, I'm retaining my sanity by fooling myself into believing that she simply grew tired of me. Probably a mistake, but I've always given her everything she wanted. So now I'm giving her freedom. Apparently she's having second thoughts. Trouble is, once you blow apart a sculpture twenty five years in the making, it takes more than a 'never mind' to put things back together."

"Maybe she's going through that change of life thing. I've heard that women do some strange shit when that happens."

"I won't speculate. Millions of other wives have preceded her without doing what she's done."

"Keep me posted. I'm running late for a date. Later dad."

Saturday found me answering a call from my mother.

"Morning mom."

"I called your house and Daisy told me that you've filed for divorce and moved out. Seems like that's the kind of information a mother should have been warned about. Now I've made a complete fool of myself."

"I'll put that on your tombstone. 'Made it to age seventy before making a complete fool out of herself.'"

"Vince, this isn't funny. You never told me that you and Daisy were going through a rough patch."

"That's because Daisy never told ME we were going through a rough patch. She started it, the legal stuff, but I'm finishing it."

We chatted for the better part of an hour. So far, nobody was admitting knowing why Daisy was unhappy being married.

+ + + +

Marilyn had her staff create an inventory from all the pictures I'd taken. It had been put together in such a way as to invite confusion. I'll admit I wasn't sure what I was looking at.

It was the following Wednesday, after work, when I needed something I'd left behind. There was a car in front of my house so I assumed that Daisy was getting moral support from one of her friends. My incorrect assumption was that the friend would be a female. Daisy was sitting in her recliner, with a goblet of wine, while some young jerk was sitting in my recliner also enjoying his wine. Daisy looked guilty as hell, as well she should for the skimpy outfit she had on. My initial reaction was to get beat up by this kid as there wasn't a chance in hell that I could whip his young ass.

"Don't mind me. I just needed to get something I'd left behind. Sit, don't get up."

The kid couldn't have been much older than my son. My blood was boiling, but I'd given up the right to complain. By the time I made it to my hotel, I knew my marriage was over. Game, set, and match. Done. I sent text messages to Dora and Dan letting them know that their mother was dating again and that the marriage was over.

Later that evening Daisy left an angry message, which I didn't respond to. Apparently Dan and Dora did a good job of bombarding her with insulting calls and texts. How can you want to save a marriage and be entertaining replacements at the same time?

+ + + +

The legal stuff was easily stacked in my favor. Daisy's lawyers knew zoning and permits, not family law. Regardless of roadblocks I would be free in under six months.

Throughout the whole process Daisy wouldn't give a straight answer about why she went for the trial separation. No accusations about any inappropriate behavior on my part. This whole thing is bizarre.

Later that night Dora left me a message that she had dropped by the house and found a bearded older gentlemen in the living room with Daisy. She said she stuck around despite her mother telling her to leave. Eventually Daisy left with the gentleman. Dora said Daisy's outfit was inappropriate for a woman of her age.

A week later, my neighbor let me know that paramedics and cops were at my house. Gut check time. I waited for a call from the authorities. Who knows how long that would have taken? Dora called around midnight.

"Dad, mom was assaulted and is being kept overnight for observation."

"Okay."

"DAD! IT'S MOM!"

"I heard you. Was she assaulted by someone she invited in?"

There was a short pause "I don't know."

"Look kitten, I found her with someone. You found her with someone. As many women will tell you, you have to be careful when you invite strangers in for a little excitement. Too many unknowns for me to give a shit at this point."

"DAMMIT DAD! SHE'S MY MOTHER!"

"Well then go sit by her side. Don't let her slutty behavior affect your grades."

"ARRGHHHAHGHH" as the call went silent.

Would have I wished this on Daisy? No, but if you don't know how to play with fire, you stand a good chance of getting burned.

+ + + +

I'm starting to hate Tuesday mornings. I was served with a 'Demand For Preservation of Evidence' letter. I took a picture of it and sent it to Marilyn. She called about an hour later.

"Mr. Emerson, this is pretty generic. Don't get rid of any of the video surveillance captured in your house. Don't shred documents."

"Well the first part is easy as I don't have my house wired. I'll avoid shredding machines."

"Umm, Vince, this states that your house has cameras in every room."

"They've got mine confused with someone else's house. I assure you that my house is NOT wired."

"Let me make a call. I'll get back to you."

Thirty minutes later Marilyn was scolding me.

"Vince, the police have assured me that your house is in fact wired. They want the video for the night that Daisy was assaulted."

"I'm telling you the truth. I know nothing about the house being wired. I've been in my hotel for the last three weeks so if it is wired, they need to talk to Daisy."

"Alright, I'll get back to you."

Why in the hell would Daisy have gotten the house wired? First off it would cost a bunch and I had our assets tied up. Was she afraid that I'd come back for something of hers? Makes no sense. I had work to do so it soon faded to the back of my memory. More scared shitless tourists tumbled out of the plane.

As I sat watching the evening news, in my hotel room, they ran a story about some gas station camera helping to solve an assault. I was curious to see if any of my neighbors had outdoor surveillance. If so, maybe they could see who installed the cameras. Third time's the charm. My first two calls resulted in nothing, but the guy one house south and across the street couldn't stop gushing about how great his setup was. Since I needed his help, I oo'd and aw'd where appropriate. He called back an hour later with who's name was on the installation truck along with dates and times they were there. I forwarded the information to Marilyn.