Settling Through Life

A short story to distract me for a bit. Nothing new here. Move along if you want ground breaking.

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David Coverdale, Bernie Marsden: "I don't know where I'm goin', but I sure know where I've been."

+ + + +

Marcie, my wife of nineteen years, lost her father two years ago. It wasn't unexpected as he'd battled heart problems well into his seventies. Marcie was an unplanned child who arrived as her parents turned forty. A month ago we moved her mother into an assisted living place. Going from a five bedroom house, to a very small one bedroom prison, meant boxes and boxes of stuff needed to disappear.

Convincing Helga, Marcie's mother, to do an estate sale, was difficult. She wanted to keep everything. Marcie and her elder siblings, three brothers and two sisters, all took their share of boxes.

Much of what didn't sell, at the estate sale, was donated to the Humane Society thrift store. All of this activity took its toll on Marcie, and most definitely our sex life. I doubt we've had sex more than once a month since her father died. I say sex, not love, as Marcie has become more like an inflatable doll than a loving wife. Apparently I just don't do it for her anymore.

Since Marcie is my first and only wife, I had no expectations or knowledge of what to expect in a marriage. We did the usual things, dated, engagement, marriage, a child, then another, and now we are into the parent caretaking phase. My folks are doing well, and I hope it stays that way for a while.

I can't say that I'm that outgoing lovey-dovey kind of guy. Then again, neither is Marcie. She's gone through life with a chip on her shoulder. Helga, and myself at different times, have suggested counseling for her. Not wanting my head handed back to me again, I've let it slide.

I've got two great kids. We did the family tree genetic thing a few years back. After we confirmed our heritage, we took a very special vacation to England and Ireland to visit the graves of some of our earliest known relatives.

Henrietta, my brainiac high school senior, is headed off to Stanford next fall. Her younger brother, Robbie, is a moderately talented athlete. He's smart enough to realize that his athletic career is likely to end when his high school days are over. He's a junior but taking some college prep courses.

My name is Levi Bennigan and I will turn forty four next month. I don't know exactly what I'm going to do, but I am going to do something. I have to.

+ + + +

We live in one of those vintage homes made over a hundred years ago. The lowest level, kind of like a walk out basement, comes complete with a kitchenette and its own entry door. You can turn it into a rental if you lock the stairwell door in the kitchen. It has sat unused since we moved in fifteen years ago. I pay to have it cleaned once a year. You can't let those cobwebs multiply.

The main level has four bedrooms. The upper level has a single bedroom and a small bathroom, along with a lot of open space. Robbie loves it up there. Above the second level is a rather spacious attic. I've used that steep wooden drop down ladder at least fifty times. That's the only way you can get into the attic. It's a real workout taking things up or down.

"Take these up to the attic" ordered Marcie.

She was bossing me around, trying to find a spots for the dozens of boxes she'd claimed from her mother's belongings.

"Shouldn't you tape them up a little better, if we're going to put them in time-out?"

As if I was a clueless eight year old, Marcie shot back "They'll be fine."

I'd have died a dumb happy bloke if I'd done what she refused to do. The first few boxes climbed the stairs with me without any problems. Just after I stepped off the ladder, into the attic, the fateful box emptied its contents.

Thinking that a few choice cuss words would solve something, I released my anger. Nothing changed. I started stacking the contents of the broken box. Some books, some journals, and a few pictures. The journals, five of them, were all hand written. It wasn't until I found the fifth one that I realized what they were. These were the diaries of Helga. Each journal covered at least a dozen years. I sat quietly and read a few pages.

How is it that reading someone else's deep dark secrets is so spellbinding? I fell into the trap. I couldn't get enough. Whenever Marcie would go off shopping, or whatever she was into, I'd climb into the attic and read.

My fascination turned into heartbreak when I found the entries for the week of our marriage.

'Marcie isn't excited but I am. Levi is a catch, but she is still under the illusion that Oscar will change his mind. He's been gone for two years and her biological clock is ticking. I don't think she could have chosen a better man. I just wish she loved him.'

I read it so many times that I knew every word by heart. My marriage was a sham from the beginning.

Driving around the lakes and mountains helped me pass the time. In my hurry to flee the house, I'd left my phone on the counter.

"Where in the hell have you been? I've been worried sick about you."

"Yeah, I bet you have."

"What? What did you just say? Come back here!"

I locked myself in the bathroom and sat in the shower until the hot water turned cold. Marcie pounded on the door a few times. When I finally came out, she was sitting on the bed waiting for me.

"Start talking, now!"

"I'm tired. Good night."

"What's wrong? Why are you acting so strange?"

I ignored her, closed my eyes, and listened to her pester me for the next ten minutes. She gave up. I didn't have a clue what time it was. When I woke up, at 3 am, Marcie was in bed next to me.

+ + + +

I snuck into the attic and took the journals. I left my phone on the counter. This time on purpose. Grabbing an extra-large cup of coffee and a cherry Danish, from the all night truck stop, I headed back into the mountains and parked by the lake. The overhead light, in my car, was my reading lamp, until dawn.

Finding all of the entries, which mentioned me, was my mission.

'Marcie is dating a gentleman named Levi. She seems to like him.'

'Marcie says Levi proposed. She said yes but is now regretting it. What if Oscar wants her? I told her to grow up.'

Then the entry a week before our wedding. I'd drank too much coffee, so I went and did a perk test. This was emotionally draining.

My search lasted several more perk tests. For the most part, all of the entries, which mentioned me, were about highlights in our family's life. Things like accomplishments, awards, and things that her grandkids had done.

I'd been at it for ten hours and was getting hungry. Heading back towards home, I did the drive through thing and scarfed down a few sandwiches. I parked in a shopping center and browsed through the last journal.

'Marcie says Oscar contacted her today through Facebook. She's in seventh heaven. She still doesn't love Levi.'

I looked at the date then tried to remember anything. I drew a blank. I got a better clue when I read the entry for a week later.

'Marcie met Oscar for lunch. She was crying when she called. He's happily married and turned down her offer for a steamy afternoon of sex. I told her she was crazy for doing either of those things. A married woman doesn't go out for lunch and she never offer her body to another man. We had a terrible fight. She might never talk to me again.'

It triggered my memory. I came home from work that night and was raked over the coals for some really minor stuff. Marcie was a complete bitch for almost a week. This one hurt more than the one before our marriage. When this entry was written, we'd been married for sixteen years, had two great kids, and she'd never fallen in love with me. My chest hurt, a lot. It was all I could do to breathe normally.

In the journals, it was over a month later before Marcie was mentioned again. They had mended fences. Neither I, nor Oscar, were mentioned again until last summer.

'Marcie wants Levi to go on vacation to Miami. She let it slip that Oscar lived in a suburb and maybe she'd sneak away for a lunch with him.'

It came flooding back. After Marcie went shopping, while we were vacationing in Miami, she was a vile bitch again. My bet is that Oscar is a fine gentleman and turned down her advances. What if she did fuck him but he still wouldn't leave his wife. That was a viable scenario too. Did it matter at this point? I don't know. My head is spinning.

That was it for the journals. Now what do I do with my kids. They are in high school and both are driving. Do I keep this sham of a marriage going?

Marcie was waiting for me. This time it was a silent glare which greeted me. There was fire in her eyes, but she held her tongue.

"Well?"

"How's the kids?"

"Talk to me! What is wrong with you?"

"Are the kids home? I need to talk with them."

"DAMMIT, TALK TO ME!"

"Not yet."

The kids weren't home. I repeated the shower from the previous night. Marcie left me alone.

+ + + +

I was out of the door before dawn. I left notes on each of the kid's cars to call me. My cell phone rang ten minutes after I left. It was Marcie.

"Why won't you talk to me?"

"The moon is still up."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"I think I need an oil change."

"Tell me what's going on."

I broke. I couldn't help it. I'd never been so angry about anything.

"Settle down. Maybe Oscar will change his mind."

After a few seconds of silence I hung up. Ignoring the next few calls, Marcie sent a text.

'Please come home.'

I responded 'Please move my stuff, or your stuff, to the extra bedroom.'

'We can work through this.'

'Why would I want to?'

'Please come home' went unanswered.

When Henrietta called, I set up a meeting for after school. Robbie was also able to make that meeting.

"What's wrong dad? Mom says you've been acting all weird."

"I'm leaving her. I just need to know how to stay in your lives."

Henrietta shrieked "O M G Dad! Who did what?"

"Let's just say that I'm not the problem. Can we leave it at that?"

Henrietta balked "NO! What did she do?"

Taking a deep breath "It's not what she did, as much as what she didn't do. Wait, that's not completely true either. It's complex. What she never did was fall in love with me. I've learned, quite recently, that all I meant to her was someone to give her a family. She still has strong feelings for the man she wished she'd married. He dumped her. Why I don't know. They broke up about two years before we got married. Give me a minute."

This was hard, but strangely uplifting. Henrietta grabbed one of my hands. Robbie did the same with the other.

"Three years ago, she met him for lunch and offered him sex. Apparently he turned her down."

"THAT BITCH!"

"Henrietta, shush! You're making a scene."

In whispered words "That bitch."

We all giggled.

"Our vacation to Miami last summer was set up by her so she could have another shot at her heartthrob."

Quietly again "What a slut."

Robbie rightfully wanted proof "How do you know this now, and not three days ago?"

"Your grandmother Helga kept diaries. While putting boxes into the attic, they spilled out. Stay right here and I'll grab them."

I retrieved the journals whose pages I had paper-clipped. Allowing them time to read only those entries, both had tears in their eyes.

Henrietta sighed "I'm so sorry daddy."

"Don't be. It isn't anything you did. You have nothing to be sorry for or ashamed of."

Robbie wondered "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I really don't. I told her to move her stuff or mine into one of the unused bedrooms. The only thing I know for sure is that I won't be sleeping in the same bed as her until I can come to grips with this."

Henrietta wasn't having it "Screw her. I say we move all of her stuff down to the dungeon and lock the door in the kitchen. She'd still be living under our roof, but we'd never have to see her."

Robbie "Damn straight! Come on! We can get it done this evening."

The kids bolted and both beat me home by a few minutes.

+ + + +

I heard the ruckus before I entered the house.

"Put those down! What are you doing? Talk to me! Henrietta, I'm your mother and I demand that you stop right now. Robbie, you too? What's going on?"

Down the stairs to the lowest level they went. Dungeon. I like that description.

"Levi! What's going on?"

I ignored her and grabbed an armful of clothes. My progress was slowed down when Marcie latched onto my arm.

"Levi! Dammit, talk to me."

Henrietta and Robbie were back "Hi dad. I'll take those from you. Keep her out of our way."

"You heard them Marcie. Let's go into the kitchen."

"What did you tell them?"

"The truth, as I know it. They no longer want to live with you. Since you're entitled to live under this roof, your new quarters are downstairs. If you need something, slip a note under the door. We'll set it on the top step for you."

"Why? Why are you doing this?"

"So you can pine for Oscar without having to deal with those that you don't love."

"What are you talking about? I love you! I love the kids."

"Can you honestly say that you EVER gave me all of your love unconditionally?"

At least she had a tiny conscience. She was struggling with a response.

"I think so."

"I don't. You loved that I filled a need you had, but your heart has never belonged to me."

"It has. Where is this coming from?"

"Tell me. Since we got engaged, how many times have you met with Oscar, without me being there?"

Tears were slowly working down her face.

"A few I guess."

"Well take this legal pad and write me a confession. Not knowing what I already know, this should make for an interesting exercise. Now stay out of our way until you are removed from our lives."

Marcie was hugging herself as the tears streamed down her face.

+ + + +

The locksmith replaced the upper level locks. Marcie's keys now only worked on her door.

Rather than risking an accident, Henrietta and Robbie each grabbed an arm and lifted Marcie a few inches off the floor. Depositing her on the front lawn was a little humiliating.

Henrietta dished it out "There you go mom. We'd appreciate it if you wouldn't bring your dates home, but with your track record, who know what you're capable of."

Marcie was a defeated woman. She sank to her knees and hugged herself tightly while fighting back the tears.

I took Henrietta and Robbie out for a late night snack.

"Thank you both. I think she got the message."

Robbie jumped in "I know she got the message. What's next dad?"

"As I said earlier. I just don't know. Her heart never belonged to me. Mine always belonged to her. I think I'll get some help from a shrink to walk me through this. For the time being, try not to let this affect your grades. We'll probably be eating out a lot since you don't want me fixing meals."

All three of us had muted our phones. We got quite a chuckle at the number of calls and texts Marcie had sent each of us.

Returning home I found a note under the dungeon door. Marcie needed a coffee pot, cups, and her beloved Hazelnut blend. It was signed with a very large 'I Love You'.

I set the coffee things on the top step. It was quiet down below. Visions of Marcie in shackles and chains brought a smile to my face.

It was probably my imagination, but it seemed like there was an echo in the bedroom. Around midnight, having had no luck with that sleep thing, I sent out emails to several counselors.

Online banking helped set my mind at ease. We keep more than we should in checking, so I moved what I felt was the excess into savings. After the money was moved, I put a hold on the savings account. Any attempt to take the money and run was now going to be slowed, if not stopped.

I must have fallen asleep because my alarm woke me. Work was a struggle, but I trudged my way through the day. Marcie was relentless, in wanting to meet and talk again. Lunch time was spent talking with the therapists who had availability. I set up a 6 pm with one and 8 pm appointment with the other.

'Won't be back until late. Feed yourselves. Love you' was the text sent to Henrietta and Robbie.

'Don't forget I have a game tomorrow. You WILL be there' came back from Robbie.

'Yes I WILL!'

The first therapist, a woman my mother's age, listened, said little, and then suggested I meet with her twice weekly. This wasn't what I was expecting. The second therapist was also a woman, likely my age, but she was a keeper. Christina peppered me with questions for each of my disclosures. It was after 10 pm when her session ended.

"When would you like to meet again?"

"Tomorrow?"

"No can do. Do you do weekends?"

"I can doc. Let me know when and where and I'll be there."

"Back here, 8 am on Saturday. I'll have coffee, unless you're one of them decaf weirdos, in which case you'll need to bring your own."

This was more like it. Was I closer to knowing what I was going to do? Nope. What I did know is that my heart was broken. I wanted to be loved, and knowing that I wasn't was killing me.

The note from the dungeon was simple 'I do love you and we need to talk.'

I turned it over and wrote on the back 'If you couldn't elevate me to number one, after almost twenty years, you never will. How's that confession going? Seems to me I should have received it by now.'

+ + + +

My meeting with Christina, on Saturday, lasted three hours. I was spent. She was ruthless and wouldn't let me hem and haw when I didn't like the question. She surprised me at the end. "I need to meet one on one with your kids. Getting them involved might not have been the best decision you've ever made."

I handed Christina my phone and showed her the speed dials for each. After using the restroom and getting a drink from the vending machine, Christina motioned me back into her office.

"I'm meeting with Henrietta tomorrow at 8 am and Robbie an hour later. Can you do 10 am tomorrow?"

"If you say so. Don't you have a life?"

"I put the extra hours in when my guy is on the road."

The sessions, with Henrietta and Robbie, appeared to go well. Both gave me big hugs when their sessions were over. I only stayed an hour on Sunday. Christina's husband was due back later in the day.

After a combined six hours with Christina, I understood that my bruised ego would heal. It will take time, but try to postpone doing anything until I could think rationally.

Most likely because of their therapy session, the kids invited Marcie upstairs for dinner. Marcie was under strict orders to not talk about the past. She was bursting at the seams, wanting to address the problem, but managed to hold it together. Both Henrietta and Robbie did an excellent job of bringing Marcie up to speed on what had transpired since her banishment.

Their hugs and kisses, with Marcie, were awkward at best. Marcie wanted to give them but the kids weren't very receptive. I waved off her attempt to do the same with me.

Before heading back to the dungeon "Levi, would you come down so we can talk."

"I'd love to, after I've read your confession. Good night Marcie."

My next session, with Christina, was Wednesday night.

"Levi, I think it would help if you had a joint session with Marcie. Thoughts?"

"I've asked her to write a confession. She has no idea how I found out what I found out. If she isn't honest about what I already know, I have no reason to ever sit down with her face to face. Why should I listen to a liar? What would be the point?"

"When did you ask her to do that?"

"The day I told my kids, so that makes it a week ago. Makes me believe I've struck an iceberg. What I see on the surface pales in comparison with what might be lurking below the surface."