died because we ignored each other.” I sat down.
The Judge sat silently for a few minutes, then said, “Rarely do I see two people who obviously love each other but are so intent on breaking up their marriage. I insist that you two seek counseling and return to my chamber in thirty days.” He banged his gavel and stood up.
Everyone in the courtroom stood up as the judge left. Washington gathered up me and my two children and headed for the back door of the room. As I went through the door, I looked back. Julie had her hands to her mouth and was watching us intently. Franky was on the floor, not paying any attention to anyone.
I left the courthouse stunned. The Judge had seen right through our marriage. What he had stated was exactly what I had felt. I couldn’t have said it better myself.
The days that followed were lonely for me. I worked and took care of Johnny and Rachael. Johnny was getting older and seemed to understand how I felt.
One day when I was putting him to bed, he looked up at me. “Daddy, is Mommy ever coming back?”
His question nearly made me cry. “No, Johnny, she has moved on. She won’t be back.” I knew that I needed to explain it to him in simpler terms, but I couldn’t or just didn’t. I wasn’t sure.
Both my children began to accept the divorce much better than I did. I frequently took all my pictures of Julie out and laid them on my bed. Several mornings I woke up with the photos all around me. Most of the time, I kept every photo of Julie and Franky either face-down or hidden, it was too much for me to look at them.
Monday morning, I dropped the kids off at school and the daycare. I had my phone in my hand. I was staring at Julie’s number when the car in front of me stopped unexpectedly. I slammed on my brakes and swerved off onto the shoulder.
I put the phone down and tried to get my nerves under control. I wanted to call Julie so badly, I couldn’t stand it. For whatever reason, I didn’t.
That night I realized that I had really had another bad day. Divorce sucks. It was the first time that I had thought about taking my own life. If it hadn’t been for my children I would have. I just couldn’t let them lose both parents.
I was back to grieving for Marilyn again. I seemed to enjoy grieving for Marilyn. It kept my mind off Julie and probably kept me sane. I missed Marilyn as much or more than I missed Julie. Marilyn was dead and wouldn’t hurt me anymore.
I was thinking that one day I would see Julie with another man and it would sting me to the core. I dreaded that day. I wondered who the man might be, and if she was seeing him this very minute. I knew that it wasn’t healthy to think that way, but I did.
Tuesday was nearly a repeat of Monday; I got a call from an old friend, one that I hadn’t seen in years.
I went to lunch with Marcia Tucker. She was an older lady that was an executive secretary. I told her about my life and present situation. She told me that she had a daughter who was twenty-two. She was newly divorced and was ready to start dating again. Marcia showed me several photos of her daughter that she had on her phone. Donna was a very pretty young woman who got her good looks from her mother. Marcia, for her age, was quite attractive herself.
I pulled out photos of my two kids and realized that I didn’t carry one of Franky—not a good father! Marcia frequently touched my hands in an intimate way. I wasn’t sure if she was coming on to me or not.
I took Donna’s phone number and promised to call her.
Marcia and I finished lunch. We hugged and I watched her leave in her blue Mercedes. Another successful woman. I seemed to attract them, but couldn’t hold on to them. Marcia was divorced herself. That seemed like a common occurrence nowadays. I gave thought to dating Marcia, even though she was over ten years older than me; it seemed like a good thing. Then I shook my head; I knew that I wasn’t thinking clearly.
Wednesday was one of the longest days of my life. Gloria came and sat in my office. She was in the process of getting a divorce and wanted to talk to me about it. I spent nearly three hours talking with her, listening to her cry and not really caring what she said. I did get to talk about Julie a little bit, but I did my best to keep my mouth shut. I really found out that I didn’t like Gloria very much; she was too much of a whiner.
Gloria left my office. “See you around, Brandon!”
That afternoon I called my attorney, Washington. “Got any news for me?”
Washington responded, “It has been very quiet; rather disturbing. I will see what I can find out. Do you want a hearing as soon as possible?”
I made a face at my phone. “No, sir, I just want to know how things are going.”
He responded again, “I will get back to you, Brandon. Take care of your kids and don’t do anything stupid.”
Julie and I had failed to go to any counseling. I was worried what the Judge was going to say to us. I didn’t want to go, and she didn’t want to go; there was no use in it.
The thought kept coming back in my mind: what am I going to do when I hear that Julie is with another man? Even worse, what will I do when I see her with that man? I was afraid of how I might act or what I might say.
Wednesday night I put the kids to bed and waited for someone to call. I wasn’t sure who I was expecting, but no one called. I found the card with Donna’s phone number. I debated about it and then threw the card away. I wasn’t interested in a twenty-two–year-old kid. I had enough children; I didn’t need anymore. I didn’t care how attractive she was. After Julie, no one was that attractive.
On Thursday, my boss, Jim Sutherland, came to see me. “Brandon, you seem out of it. Is there anything that I can do for you?”
I knew that Jim was a religious man. “Jim, just pray for me. I don’t know where my life is headed, but I need to get back on track. Thanks for talking to me.”
It was Friday, June first, and I was in the office when my personal phone rang. I answered it just like normal. “Brandon Thompson, how may I help you?” I was in my own little world.
There was dead silence, then a small voice asked, “Brandon, did you sleep with her?”
I looked at my phone. “No, Julie, I didn’t. Why do you ask?”
Her voice got weaker. “Brandon, I made a mistake. Can you forgive me?”
I sat up straight in my chair. “Yes, Julie, I can. Please come home.” I wasn’t certain that I could forgive her, but I was going to try like hell.
She asked, “Want to know what happened?”
I shook my head, like she could see it. “No, honey, just come home!”
It was impossible for me to work the rest of that Friday.
I left early and picked up the kids.
“Guys, your mother is coming home.”
The both stared at me like they didn’t understand, then Rachael said, “She isn’t our mother anymore. She left us.”
Johnny looked at his big sister and asked, “Is Franky coming home too?”
“Yes, he is coming too; we will be a family again.” It was all that I could do to stay seated. I wanted to yell out or throw some punches. I was happy!
The next day was Saturday. I looked up the airlines flights and found Julie’s flight. She was arriving at three-forty in the afternoon. The three of us drove to the airport and were waiting at baggage claim.
I was the first to see her. She was leading a little boy. Franky was walking just fine. We didn’t hug; we shook hands. I wasn’t sure what that meant.
I gathered up the three bags and a suitcase and we went to dinner. Franky would have nothing to do with anyone but his mother. He seemed very spoiled.
We got home and I turned the television on and let the three kids watch cartoons. This was not something that my kids got to do very often, and all three kids were glued to the television. Julie and I fixed ourselves a drink and went out in the backyard and sat at our table.
She looked at me. “Brandon, you have to know, I spent the night with Larry. I am sorry.”
/> I made a face. “I know, Julie. Ralph told me.”
She asked, “Can you forgive me?”
I nodded then sighed. “Yes I can, but your days of doing movies are over. You are just a mom to our children. Can you live with that?”
She nodded back at me. “I can, Brandon, if we can have one more child.”
I made a silly face. “Yeah, honey, I can live with that.”
She asked, “Do we have to go to counseling?”
I shook my head. “No, honey, we don’t, unless you just want to.”
Her eyes lit up. “I don’t know how you can forgive me, but I am happy!”
On Monday, I went back to work and Julie stayed home with Franky. I took the two older kids to daycare and to school.
My day went really well—at least it did until I got home.
I unloaded my two kids and we went inside. My neighbor Mitch was sitting on the kitchen counter, watching Julie cook dinner. He had on a basketball uniform. When I arrived, he slipped off the counter and quickly left.
I looked at Julie. “What gives?”
She frowned. “He came over this morning and has been here all day. He wouldn’t go home.”
I had a pretty good idea why Mitch was hanging around, but didn’t say it out loud. What I did say was, “Be careful of him; I don’t trust him.” Mitch was in his mid-thirties, a single black man, and was retired from the NBA, or in other words he was a retired basketball player. He had a lot of money and no obvious girlfriend.
That night I didn’t give Mitch another thought. It was my belief that