She Knew Right from Wrong

I contacted a lawyer and Steve was served. It was now on the fast track and in less than 90 days, I would be ready to be Mrs. Clark Petersen. I would change the father's name on Jason's birth certificate soon after. Jason would not even remember when Clark was not his father in every way. I started thinking about the tropical honeymoon Clark had promised. I conceded that Steve had been a pretty good husband. It was hard to believe that I had lucked into an even better deal.

I should have known better.

One day after two months of bliss, I called Clark to come over as soon as he had a break. I had made an Italian dish with shrimp and scallops that was his favorite. His phone went to voice mail. As it came closer to time to eat, I picked up Jason and went to Clark's house. There were no lights on. I noticed there was now a SOLD sign on his front lawn. I looked through a window. There was no furniture in the living room. My mind searched desperately for an explanation that the obvious conclusion was false. Maybe: He had moved to a hotel room until we were married, and he could move in with me. He had sent all his furniture to be cleaned. He was going to show up tonight ready to take up residency at my house. He had sold all his furniture because he wouldn't need any at my house.

Jason and I went back home to wait for Clark to arrive and tell me I was foolish for worrying.

I called him many times and left many messages. He didn't come for supper. He didn't come for bedtime like he had every night for the last two months. His voice mailbox was full, and he never returned my calls. I began to panic. I knew nothing about his family or any other friends I might call. I checked with the state police and local hospitals. Finally, it struck me to call his realtor. I was told he had sold the house several days ago. He assumed Clark had already moved out-of-state. At least that's what he told the realtor.

Talk about a slow learner. I still called and called Clark's number. I couldn't believe it when he finally answered.

"Thank God I got you. Where are you? What happened? Are you okay?"

"My, my you are one persistent bitch. I didn't really want to talk to you, but you just don't give up. I am gone to parts unknown to you. I am not coming back. I am a confirmed bachelor and I am a confirmed deadbeat dad. I have two other little bastards out there besides Jason. Damn, I seem to only produce boys. Anyway, maybe you can beg Steve to come back. If he's as clueless as you said, he might just fall for it."

"But . . . but what about all those promises to move in together and get married and raise our son together? Why would you say those things and not mean them?"

"Duh. Because I wanted to continue tapping your ass until I had taken care of all the details before I left. You may be lacking in common sense, but you are one fine fuck. I will miss that."

"Is this some sick test in hopes of me begging you to come back and do the right thing? If so, I'm begging. I need you. I don't know what I'll do if you don't."

"Frankly, my dear . . . Holy shit! I gotta go. My neighbor's wife is out sunbathing topless. Damn they must be 38 or 40 DD at least. Sorry, got to go. Don't keep in touch." CLICK.

I looked in the mirror. YOU STUPID FUCKING SLUT!!!!

The only creature in my corner was the spider in its web. I had no one to call. All my friends were friends with Steve and were on his side. Steve was only a few days from being divorced from his cheating wife. I could expect no sympathy from him. My parents would tell me that I got what I deserved. They might offer a little help just like they might for any person down on her luck.

I could not bring myself to call anyone. It would be too embarrassing, especially since I had disrespected the people who once loved me. At least Jason still loved me. His love and need for me would keep me going. I didn't worry about other things.

Of course, other things caught up with me. Mortgage payments, utility bills, home, health and car insurance, and groceries. I applied for and received Food Stamps and welfare. I stayed in the house and watched old DVDs. Cable had been sacrificed long ago. I started losing weight as I had no motivation to eat. Jason provided what few moments of joy I had. Mostly, I just let my life crumble around me.

I awoke to the bright lights and antiseptic smell of a hospital. My first word was 'Jason.' I was told that his grandparents had him. I felt relieved. Then I understood how far I had fallen. I didn't care about myself anymore. If Jason was going to be taken care of, I was ready to check out of this world.

A worker from Child Protective Services came to my room. She served me with an order that placed my son in foster care until and if I could be proven to be a fit mother again. She was the most non-nonsense person I have ever met. There was no expression of 'Hope you get better.' Bitch.

My parents came by and brought Jason. Family members were given first choice in taking kids in foster care, mostly because it was cheaper than paying foster parents. Jason was scared of the sights, sounds and smells of the hospital room. He stayed glued to my mother and refused to let me hold him. I hoped he was still too young to remember this scene when he got older. I was assured that everything was fine and all I needed to do was to concentrate on getting well. I had no motivation to do so.

I was surprised to see Steve come by to see me. Not too surprised to revive the bitch in me that treated him so badly. "Come to gloat, have you? Go ahead and say it, 'Serves you right, bitch.' I don't care. I deserve it."

Steve had tears in his eyes. It almost caused me to breakdown, but I held fast. "Georgia, I don't worry about the past anymore. I have moved on."

"Then why the hell are you here?"

"Because I still love you to some degree and I want to see you get well and move on too. Jason needs you to be his mother."

"He has my mother now. No one needs me anymore. Go away and leave me alone."

His tears were now rolling down his cheeks. I started to feel sorry for what I had said. Then I saw an attractive young woman put her arm around his waist to lead him out of my room. He had found someone else to move on with. Good for him. Heartbreaking for me. Beeping sounds started going off in the machinery I was hooked up to.

I next woke up in a room similar to a hospital room. I was not hooked up to machines or even an IV. I was clothed in a dress so simple that an Amish girl would refuse to wear it. It took me a while to realize that I was in a mental ward of some facility. I would be taken care of and not have the chance to screw up my or anyone else's life now. Good.

The therapists kept trying to get me to take more responsibility for myself. I wanted to shout: "I fucked up. Now I'm paying for it. Leave me the hell alone!" But they wouldn't. My parents visited, but they were kind enough not to bring Jason. All I cared about was that he was being taken care of. The only thing I wanted him to know was to not turn out like me.

I'm supposed to keep writing in my journal about how I got here and what I hope for my future to be. I'm tired. I don't think about the future. I have none.

STEVE

The funeral was simple and only attended by a few people. It was hard to see Jason so upset. He clung to my wife who last year turned out to be his kindergarten teacher. I think my ex-father-in-law had a hand in getting us together. His recent hints about being too old to keep up with a young, active boy were a bit obvious. My wife is standing beside Jason, holding his hand. We have been spending more and more time with him. I can see the good side of Georgia in him. I think I see where this is going, and I feel good about it. The baby inside my wife will probably have an older brother soon. It seems like the right thing to do.