The Dentist

I was really proud of her. I loved her so much, but I couldn't help but notice that no matter where she was the dentist was always close by. I asked Mrs. Capezio if she knew the man.

Mrs. Capezio in a gravelly voice I didn't know at the tame was an indication of cancer of the larynx told me his name was Vincent Gilchrist that he'd gone through two wives, and had something of a reputation as what she called a lothario and that he'd been at the core of more than one marital break up in the county. I listened to Mrs. Capezio, I watched my wife, and I watched Gilchrist. I couldn't help it; I started to have this sinking feeling. My stomach started to knot up.

I was careful, but I kept a watchful eye on things. My wife and this Gilchrist weren't just acquaintances. The eye contact was too subtle, there were too many nonverbal messages. I wondered. I started to worry. I was sure of my wife; I just wasn't sure of the old hound dog.

On the way home that night I asked a few of what I considered pretty innocent questions. I started, "Wasn't that one guy the dentist Vincent Gilchrist?"

Eugenie grunted, "He's a dental surgeon."

"Oh," I said, "do you see him much?"

She rolled her eyes at me, "Why do you ask that?"

I replied, "Oh I don't know. He seemed to be hanging around you a lot, that's all."

"He stops in the office sometimes."

"A dentist, I mean dental surgeon, hanging out at a lawyer's. Does he have many, you know, lawsuits?"

My wife shifted her weight around, "He's good friends with two of my bosses."

That surprised me because I didn't see him once, not once, come over and visit with any of the lawyers. I told her, "He never came over and saw any of the lawyers."

She was quick and brusque, "He didn't want to spoil our party."

That didn't make one iota of sense to me, and I told her, "That's doesn't make any sense. My guess is if they're friends they'd want him to stop over."

She looked out the window into the darkness, "That's what you know."

I knew I'd been dismissed. She'd been doing a lot that lately. We drove home the rest of the way in silence; something we seldom used to do.

When we got home my mom was asleep on the sofa in the living room. I went over and pushed the blanket up more tightly around her. She didn't stir. I went back to Eugenie and went to put my arms around her. I knew neither of us had drunk very much so with the kids asleep, and just being the two of us on a Friday night this could be an opportunity for some affection.

As I went to put my arms around my wife she backed away, "Get your mother up and take her home."

"Gee Eugenie," I pleaded, "she's sound asleep. This is a chance for..."

She cut me off, "I'm tired. I need to get some sleep. I have a busy day tomorrow."

This was news to me. I ignored her, "Come on sweetie we haven't been together in weeks," and we hadn't.

She started up the steps, "Get your mother home. I'm going to bed. I have a busy day ahead of me tomorrow."

I was pissed, "I know I heard you the first time," I followed her up the stairs, "I'm letting my mother sleep, and I want some nookie."

Eugenie turned almost knocking me down the steps, "Use your hand," then she spun back around and trounced on upstairs.

Well I wasn't using my hand, but I thought about some things. For one she'd been a hell of a lot less affectionate lately, and every time I'd tried to get near her there'd been some excuse. I understood she was full time, I was traveling a much greater distance, and there'd been some money issues.

About the money; the house wasn't new when we bought it. Lately we'd had to have new siding and a new roof put on. We were on a well and the drain field had clogged up to the tune of $5,000.00. We'd never had a lot of money, and these things, plus the new heat pump, the new dishwasher, and the refrigerator we'd had to replace had all put a burden on our finances.

It wasn't like I hadn't been trying. Hell, I'd signed up to teach a night course starting next semester at the community college. I knew that would help.

Then there was the dentist; I couldn't get Gilchrist out of my head. There was something going on. I was sure of it.

++++++++++

We got through the holidays. Christmas was a blast. New Years was spent at my brothers. That wasn't so good. Eugenie wanted to go to the lawyer's country club. She said we'd been invited, but she never said who'd invited us. School started back up, and, excepting for a couple snow days, things went back to normal, at least as normal as they'd been just before Christmas.

I knew something was wrong. Eugenie was different. She was away too much. She'd started disappearing some Saturday afternoons. I knew it was time to do something. I called my brother.

My brother was a mason. I don't mean the kind that gets together and talks and does do gooder stuff. No he's a mason. He works in marble, and slate, and cement. January and February are always bad months for him. It's too cold for a lot of what he does. He and I got together, and I told him what I was worried about. He told me he had some time. He said he'd keep an eye out.

Meanwhile I went back and forth from work to home. We ate together. We talked to the kids. They shared their school activities with us, but Eugenie and I we didn't say anything to each other? It was like it was when we were first married. When I tried to initiate something in bed she'd roll away. If I tried to start a conversation she'd hide in a book or get out some work. Not since the troubles we'd had with Maia and then my problem with MRSA had I felt so helpless.

Keep an eye out is exactly what my brother did. Long about the third week in February my brother showed up at the door, "Chase I'm sorry."

It was a Wednesday evening. The kids were in the living room, and Eugenie was still not home, "So what have you got?"

"There's this dentist."

"Gilchrist," I asked?

"Then you know."

"Not really."

"Well I'll tell you I can't prove anything, but his office is across and just down the street from where Eugenie works. They're there right now. She'd been there since maybe 2:00 p.m. This is a regular thing. They also meet up sometimes on Thursdays at his house. He keeps a light schedule on Thursdays so he can golf and such. One of the things he does on Thursday is meet up with Eugenie. And Friday nights. She usually ducks out of her office happy hours early to meet up with him at either his house or his office. I'm sorry Chase. I wish I had better news."

I wanted to cry, but my kids were in the other room and my brother was right in front of me so I just shrugged, "Thanks bro."

He asked, "So what's the plan?"

"I don't know. I guess I'll confront her tonight when she gets home."

"You sure? That sounds stupid to me."

"I know, but I can't think of anything else."

He hugged me, "Well let me know."

I walked him to the door, went back in the kitchen and sat back down. I checked the clock. It was 7:30. At 9:00 I got up and sent the kids to bed. Then I went back to the kitchen and waited.

Eugenie pulled up the drive shortly after 9:30. She came in, looked around and asked, "What the kids in bed?"

I stared at her, "It's Wednesday night."

She started out of the room, "I've got to shower up; got another busy day tomorrow."

I couldn't keep it in, "What going to fuck the dentist again tomorrow?"

She turned. For a moment the truth was written all over her face, but she recovered nicely, "Don't give me any of your shit."

"It's not shit and you know it. So tell me what is it going to be?"

She started toward me, "You make me sick little man. I ought to divorce you and let you try to fend for yourself."

I got up and stared her down, "You want a divorce? You want the dentist?"

She was really venomous, "He's a dental surgeon, and he's ten times the man you'll ever be."

That was it! She'd blown the lid right off. I realized we were probably done, "Yeah he's a surgeon. He's sure carved this family up, carved it up nicely. What do you want me to do," God I wanted to run; no scratch that! I wanted to wrap my hands around her neck and strangle her!

She replied and none too nicely, "You could pack up and leave."

I'd had it. I put on my teacher disguise, "Look let's get the kids off to school in the morning. We can both take tomorrow off. I've still got time, and Lord knows when we're through you can run over to your new man in plenty of time to suck his cock."

"You bastard," she replied. Then she looked around, and she nodded her head, "You sleep downstairs tonight. Tomorrow we'll get the kids off and talk this out."

I smiled, "Works for me," I waited till after midnight. I could hear her tossing and turning upstairs. I thought about her, about me, about our situation.

I realized Eugenie had been using work as an escape; an escape from the horrible realities our home had become with first Maia, then me, and then with the money. The dentist certainly saw her vulnerability and had probably gone to work on her. I had no way of knowing for sure, but I'd heard about his reputation. This man was a real smooth operator, a demon. He knew how to massage a susceptible ego, how to be the comforting shoulder, the slightly older, wiser, attentive, caring, and understanding sympathetic dependable 'other' man.

Then I had a hunch there was something else; something darker than death, murkier than the gloomiest grimmest slough, blacker than midnight, something hidden away in the deepest recesses of Eugenie's most hidden being. There was Maia.

I could only imagine Eugenie's thoughts, but I knew they were there. What if all those years ago she'd acquiesced to the abortion? There never would have been a Maia, never been a marriage, no leukemia, no MRSA, no debt, no struggle, no responsibility, no anxiety, no pain. It would have been easy to have bailed all those years ago, but she hadn't. She'd done what was right; not what was easy.

I felt for Eugenie. Just the thought of abortion; of aborting Maia, just to think of the guilt she might be grappling with upstairs. We'd built a life, a family. We created a baby and named her Maia. We'd built on that; we made two more, given them names, shaped their personalities. I once heard a baby is like a blank sheet of paper. Parents spend their whole lives trying to turn that blank sheet into a fine tapestry, a work of art. Maia's leukemia had been like a spike that had driven itself straight into the heart of all that mattered.

Life, children; they can be heartbreaking. I knew what Eugenie was thinking. Of course it was desperation and fatigue that drew those horrid thoughts to the surface, but just the thought could drive her to despair. The guilt she could be feeling would be overwhelming, all consuming. I pitied her, but there was nothing I could do.

After an hour or so I took a Xanax. I slept like a baby after that.

++++++++++

We got the kids up and off to school. I called out sick. Eugenie did the same. I made a pot of coffee and poured us each a cup. We sat down. I felt pretty good considering, I mean considering my whole world was coming apart. I looked over at her and couldn't tell a thing.

I started, "You want a divorce?"

She nodded first then replied, "Yes."

"What about the kids?"

She looked at me. The expression on her face was lifeless, dead. She murmured, "Can't you keep them?"

"Christ," I shouted, "you're their mother!"

That woke her up. She shouted back, "All right you wimpy worthless piece of shit. I want the kids, the house, I want all the money, I want all our accounts. I want your 403B. I'll expect half your pension when you retire. I expect alimony, and child support," she took a deep breath, "I want your balls. I'm going to cut your limp dick and your impotent balls off! You mother fucker! I wish I never met you!"

I ignored the vitriol, but the truth was I was pretty sure she could get most of what she said she wanted. I wasn't born yesterday. In our state the wife held all the cards. Though I knew it was there, I had no proof of infidelity. She had all the answers. I thought, why fight? I told her, "All right you get a lawyer. I'll get a lawyer, and we'll work this out.

She really hollered at me then. This time I got the full package. Yeah all the puss came surging out, "I want out of here. I hate this house. I hate our life. I hate dishwashers, ironing, and runny noses. I hate kids crying and screaming at me all day! I hate you! Look at me! I'm forty-one. I'm pre-menopausal. I get hot flashes. I have to dye my hair. You don't have a bit of grey! Not one fucking grey hair! I want my life back! I want to go places. See things! I want to go to Disney World. I want to lie on the sand in Hawaii. I want to go surfing! I want to go to Paris and look out over the city from the Eiffel Tower! I want to go to New York and actually see the place."

She got up and started pacing back and forth, "I want to spend a week in New York in a fancy hotel. I'm sick of shitty one day trips with kids hanging on my skirt tails while we ride up in a dirty bus, buy a Reuben sandwich, get tickets to a Broadway play, watch it, come out, buy a crappy piece of pizza and ride a fucking bus back! I want to live. I want to go scuba diving! I want to snorkel. I want my God damn mother fucking freedom!"

I sat back and listened. I think I understood her. She was tired, tired of work, tired of the responsibility of raising three kids, tired of worrying, she just wanted to run away. And I bet good old Vincent Gilchrist was just the guy to give her everything she thought she wanted.

It occurred to me. Poor Eugenie; she was close to the edge, she was used up, exhausted. One afternoon in June something happened that forever changed her life. She had dreams, she had plans, she had hopes, but nothing worked out like she thought. She was afraid. The truth was, if she ever needed me, it was now, but I knew I wasn't what she thought was the answer. I wasn't her savior anymore. I'd become her enemy.

I tried to be calm, "Eugenie nobody gets everything they want. Try to see what you have. You have a husband who loves you. There's the kids. OK, maybe this isn't the mansion you dreamed of, but a house is not a home," I could tell she wasn't listening to a thing I was saying, but I had to try.

"Eugenie you don't live your life on a beach in Hawaii. Life isn't a week in New York, I tapped the side of my head, "Eugenie this is where you live. You could be in Gilchrist's big house. You could be in a slum shack in some inner city, but no matter where you live you still have to live with yourself."

She glared at me, "You have no idea how much I hate you."

I knew it was over, but once more into the breach I thought, "Sweetheart try to think. Our youngest daughter's middle name is Capucine. You remember how we debated that name. Capucine was a big movie star. She had money, beauty, she had men, she had it all. Then one day she jumped off a roof nine stories above the ground. All the things she had didn't amount to a hill of beans. Eugenie don't throw your life away. You're young. I'm still young. Think of Maia's dance, Lea's pony. Sophie wants to be like her sisters. Damn it Eugenie they all want to be just like you! They love you. They idolize you. You're like a goddess to them. They're going to need us; their mom and dad. I mean me, their real dad,"

I looked at her. Where once I saw life and vigor I saw only boredom and impatience. I was spitting into the wind.

She got up, "I'm going for a ride. Try to be gone when I get back."

I knew if I left I'd probably lose even more than property, but I didn't care. I needed to get away. The difference between Eugenie and me though; she was trying to run away from everything, I was just stepping out of the way.

After she left I packed up my stuff. It was kind of sad really. Aside from a few tools there just wasn't that much there. I know I took one thing. I took our family album. When she got back from Gilchrist's I'd be gone. I'd go to my mom's. As I pulled away I didn't feel angry or sad or anything. It was like my wife had died. I guess I died a little that morning too.

++++++++++

Well I got a lawyer and Eugenie got hers. Her lawyer was the same woman Gilchrist had used for his two divorces. She was a real piranha; she picked me clean, right down to the bone.

My lawyer was a man. They negotiated I guess. I wanted to fight it out in court, but my lawyer told me I didn't stand a chance. I took what was coming, but it worked out worse than I expected.

Back before we got married we'd cobbled together a prenuptial agreement. Neither of us had a clue back then. I'd signed over all my visitation rights regarding Maia. What I didn't know was the way the old agreement was worded it just said children. Eugenie's lawyer had worked it so that it meant all three of my kids. Then to hammer it home they got out a restraining order to guarantee that I didn't try to see them on my own.

The original agreement had protected my pre-marriage assets. Those assets, not counting the car, came to less than $1,700.00. To rub it in they prorated the value of the old car in comparison to my newer used Malibu. The difference cleaned out most of the $1,700.00.

On the last day the whole time we sat there; me on one side of the table with my lawyer and Eugenie on the other side with hers she didn't look at me, not once. When it was over she and her lawyer got up and walked away. Honestly I thought she looked tired, really worn out. I know one thing. I looked good. I made sure of that.

The divorce went through. The content was passed by a judge, but there was never any mention of counseling or reconciliation. Someone had taken care of that. Eugenie allowed me one night a week of 'supervised' visitation, and one Sunday afternoon every other weekend provided the kids weren't busy.

About my visitation rights; what they'd done was write down every incident where I'd ever yelled at one of the kids or used profanity. The way it was worded any outsider would have seen me as some kind abusive bastard. What they'd written made me look like some sick son-of-a-bitch.

Then another thing about visitation I found out pretty quick; they weren't available if they were busy doing something else. As it happened, the kids were always busy.

We were separated. The days and the weeks slowly ticked by. I was miserable. I missed my wife, and I missed my kids.

Sure I thought about Eugenie's betrayal. I thought about her and that dentist fucking each other day and night while I was either at work or home watching the kids. Sometimes I couldn't decide who I hated more, Eugenie or the dentist. I mean one was a sick bitch trying to escape responsibility; the other was just an amoral bastard.

I worried about my kids. Eugenie wouldn't let my mom near the kids, but her mom, though sick with emphysema, was allowed to see them.

Thank God. Eugenie's mom saw the truth. She couldn't get the kids to me, but she sure could fill me in on what was going on. According to her, and I believed her, Eugenie and Gilchrist were going at it hot and heavy. That made me feel worse. I had dreams of me putting salt-peter in his coffee and not even Viagra could get him up.

They'd hired a nanny, and the kids seldom saw their mom. Yeah, Eugenie was running away from everything and everyone. The kids I was told were miserable. They were desperate to see me. Eugenie's mom was even scared to let them talk to me on the phone. She was afraid her daughter would find out and pull the plug on her.

I moved back in with my mother. She was in failing health. I kept working, trying to put a little money aside. Not much chance of that, between alimony and child support I was pretty much cleaned out. That was another thing.