“Clyde, I can’t make your mom’s mind up for her, and she says she needs time, but I think it’s more than that. Let me ask you this: does she seem happier without me around?”
His boy shrugged and then with hesitation he said, “Well, she isn’t happier. Things are a lot messier. She keeps telling me to pick up around the house, and I try, but I’m not very good at that stuff. There’s a pile of mail on the dining room table that gets bigger and bigger, and every morning is a rush. Sometimes, I don’t have clean clothes to wear to school. But, there’s always plenty of food to eat. It’s just confusing.”
“You’re doing what she tells you, aren’t you?” Dan said, as he salt and peppered his eggs.
“Yeah, but sometimes it’s just silly. She makes me stop playing video games all the time.”
“Well, you can’t do that all the time.”
“But there’s nothing else to do.”
“Alright, I don’t want to get into this. So, do you think your mom misses me?”
Clyde snapped a piece of bacon in half and put it in his mouth.
“I guess so; I know I do.”
“I miss you, too. Say, how long has Dick being hanging around?”
“A while I guess. He’s weird.”
“What’s he do that's weird?”
“I catch him picking his nose, and he scratches his crotch a lot.”
“He probably has something, so just make sure you don’t get too close. I’ve known Dick for a while; he is kinda weird.”
Dan felt a little more deflated after their quiet conversation. He had been hoping to hear something positive, but it hadn't come. Now, all he could do was watch the clock hands turn faster as the day went by. He couldn’t fight off the dread that came, knowing he had to return his son back home so soon.
“I’m just saying, it wouldn’t kill you to keep the place in order, that’s all.”
“I can’t take care of all of this, and you couldn’t either, as I recall.”
Dan had dropped Clyde off, and he would have been better off not taking him inside, but the door was open. He was early, too, so Ann was far from prepared for his arrival. The house's interior was in disarray. Dishes were piled up. Opened and unopened mail was scattered everywhere. There was a towel in the hallway, along with animal toys and treats that he had tripped over. There was a pungent smell, very faint, but it was clearly the lingering scent of the over-used litter box in the basement. It was one of those things that drove Dan crazy.
“Look, I’m coming by once a week to help out; I know you’re busy, but we can work it out.” Dan was trying to be nice, but the sarcasm in his tone couldn’t be hidden. “I mean, I’m sure your entourage loves it, but they can’t clean up after themselves. Ann?”
She had left him standing in the living room, and he heard her in the kitchen. Clyde had already gone to his room to unpack. When Ann returned, two beer bottles filled her hands.
Ah, this is more like it.
“Have one and sit down,” she said, as she planted herself on the couch.
“Now, you know I don’t drink on Sundays.”
“It’s football season somewhere,” she said with a smile.
“Okay, but just one. I can’t have you putting the moves on me, either. What if Dick finds out?”
Ann’s smooth face was taut, and when she spoke her voice was as dry as a bone.
“I talked with your parents, and your mom told me about the fight you had with your brother.”
Dan objected, “You can’t possibly be taking my brother’s side on this? You know him, Ann! He’s an idiot. A pushy little jerk. Man, are you really going to go there?”
“You’re a grown man, Dan. You can’t be getting into fights with anybody, even your brother. People might have acted like that a hundred years ago, but they don’t now. I can’t stand to even hear about it. You have to take those pills, for your own good and your son’s.”
Dan was quiet for a moment as he let his head bow down. Ann wasn’t even looking at him, opting for the view in the bay window instead. He knew that she wasn’t finished. That voice he hated was back. Here we go.
“What about for your good?” Dan asked, sitting back up.
She blew her hair out of her face and said, “Dan, I’m going to file for divorce.”
All Dan could hear was the word divorce echoing inside his head. Her statement seemed sincere, cold, but sincere. A feeling of numbness washed over him. He realized that there was very little he could do to stop her, that her mind was made up. He wasn’t ready to give up on his marriage, though, not on her and certainly not his son. This is madness. I haven’t done anything wrong. He hadn’t touched his beer, and she had half-finished hers.
He stood up from the couch and said, “Well then, it seems you’ve made your mind up. Have you thought this through, Ann? You can’t keep the house, you know. You can’t afford it. I don’t make a million, either. You might bleed me dry, but it won’t be enough to maintain all of this. Then we have to divide it up. All of that, over what? Because people are running around like idiots all the time, and I occasionally tell them to stop.”
She jumped up in his face.
“You’re the one running around and acting like an idiot, Dan! It’s embarrassing!”
“What is!?”
“You know what! You pissed in a man’s yard, Dan!”
“Nobody saw that. I had to go.”
“You threw a cherry bomb at a hobo for trying to clean your windows!”
“He was barely twenty, Ann. It’s a racket, I saw it—”
“I know, on 20/20!”
“No, but something like that. And it wasn’t a Cherry Bomb; it was an M-60. Ann,” he pleaded, “nobody’s ever got hurt. Not you, not Clyde, and not me. What’s the big deal? I’ll stop it. I’ll take the pills. I’ll put a rubber band around my wiener until my bladder busts. I’ll throw away my pyrotechnics. What else do you want from me, you want me to sell my car?”
Ann shoulders gave a slight shrug.
Dan’s eyes almost burst from his head.
“My car! You don’t like my car? Why? … I mean … can I not even drive what I want now!”
“It doesn’t have airbags! We aren’t in the eighties! It’s the 21st century. You look like a drug dealer in that thing.”
“What? A drug dealer! It’s a classic car, and it’s valuable!”
“You should sell it. That’s what a real man would do: sell it, and grow up. You’re not Billy Madison!”
The tert words settled him down. It was all absurd to him. She didn’t seem to like anything about him right now. He knew that he couldn’t win her back today. It was going to take something else.
“Ann, I can get another car. Another job. Another anything. But what I can’t get is another Clyde or another Ann. I want things to be like they were, when they first started. Just let me come home; just give me another chance.”
She sobbed and said, “I can’t. My attorney is already filing the papers. You’ll be served at work this week.”
CHAPTER 15
It was the worst week of work that Dan ever had. Getting served divorce papers was one thing, but getting served those papers at work was another. Of all the things that Ann ever did, this was one of the most indecent. It was cold and cruel. Dan was so numb on the inside he couldn’t even muster the anger that had built up inside him. Instead, he sat at work inside his half-office/half-pod and sulked. All of his co-workers and subordinates were supportive. He had seen most of them go through divorces, but he never imagined it felt like this. No wonder they were all cranky and short tempered so much of the time.
So he sulked in his office, staring at his wedding picture on the shelf, him and Ann on a perfect day. All he could think was, What a bitch. To make matters worse, his mom and dad kept calling all the time. He didn’t want to talk, though; he just needed to be left alone.
&nbs
p; Just as he was about to shove the picture in a desk drawer, a cute young gal sauntered into his cubicle and sat down. Her name was Debbie, and she was too young and naïve to realize that her life was slowly being sucked out of her. Dan gave her a half-hearted smile.
“What’s up, Debbie?”
She flipped her long straight hair back over her shoulder and replied, “I just heard the news, Dan. I just wanted to say that I am sorry. I mean, not that it’s any of my business, but serving you those papers here was cold as hell.”
“I agree,” he said, leaning back in his chair. Debbie’s saucy smile began to ignite a flame inside him. He had never spoken with her much, but he was pretty sure she had caught him looking a time or two. She didn’t seem to mind.
“Uh … anyway, I just wanted to tell you that,” she said, as she got up to leave.
“Well, thanks for stopping by; I appreciate it.”
She started to turn and walk away, but she looked like she still had something on her mind. A couple of selfish scenarios raced through Dan’s mind. Man, maybe she’s into me. He cleared his throat.
“So Debbie, is there something else you wanted to say?”
“Well, yeah, but I think it’s too soon to ask. It can wait until you get adjusted.”
Great, she’s interested!
Smiling as he leaned forward in his office chair, he said, “Nah … Debbie, I’m good. I knew it was going to happen. We’ve been separated a long time. A very long time. I guess it’s just time to move on. Now, what was it you wanted to ask me?”
She started picking at her lip.
“Well, okay, I’ll just ask then. You know that deputy sheriff guy with the red hair? The one that served you your divorce papers?”
“Yes, what about him?”
“I was wondering if you knew him very well?”
“Nope, I’ve never seen him before in my life.”
“Oh … well, do you happen to remember his name? Or where to contact him? He looks like the kinda guy I’d like to wrap my legs around this weekend.”
Dan felt like he had just been kicked by a horse. His head sagged into his desk.
“Dan, you alright?”
His voice was muffled as he replied, “Thanks for stopping by, Debbie.”
“Sure thing, and if you find anything out about that deputy dude, let me know. I hope you feel better.”
It was like he was in a dream as he watched her walk off from the corner of his eye. Did not see that one coming.
The next couple of weeks were two of the most miserable in Dan’s life. He tried to call Ann, but she wouldn’t make the time to have dinner or even talk. His son Clyde was left hanging in the balance. His son's texts were heart wrenching.
Dad I don’t understand divorce.
When are you coming to pick me up?
Dick is a dirty word and he still picks his nose.
Mom bought another dog. I hate it.
Dad, I miss you. Why can’t you pick me up?
I love you Dad. Don’t leave me!
They talked plenty, but Clyde didn’t really understand. Dan was so sad he would try anything to repair the past, but he just didn’t know what to do.
After work Friday evening he was sitting in his car with the windows rolled down and nothing but the sound of the wind and the passing traffic in the air. In his hand was a white paper bag. Inside the bag was his prescription medication: nerve pills, muscle relaxers, and anti-depressants. The same scenario kept running through his head: if he had taken the pills—like he was asked—would that have prevented all of this? If he took the pills now, would it fix things?
“Dammit! What have I done that was so bad? What!?” he said, bouncing his head on his steering wheel.
He had nothing now. He gave up on calling Ann. The last time he had spoken to her, he had told her he would take the pills, even stop working on his invention, but she wasn’t interested. She had even threatened him with a restraining order when he showed up at the house late one night and unintentionally threatened to kill her dogs. He didn’t need that hanging over his head when they showed up in family court.
She won’t even consider family counseling.
Dan was certain she would have taken away Clyde’s phone, too. He knew that would be another hot issue in the court room. I can’t believe this! I can’t believe this! I can’t believe this! But it was happening. His marriage was over.
He fired up the Buick and headed down the road. He had to get away and forget everything. He had already made plans out of town, and all but decided not to go. His boss, Ray, talked him out of not going. Ray was a big man who wasn’t one to mince words. If he told you to do something, he meant it.
“Dan, get out of town. You can’t change anything by sulking here. Just go and do whatever you had planned, and maybe something good will happen. It’s an order, and I don’t want you coming in Monday if you don’t have a story to tell.”
The further Dan got away from home and work, the better he felt. It took a few hours to get there, but when he arrived he felt much better.
The Armadan Hotel was a small city getaway featuring an Olympic-sized pool and a semi-notorious restaurant and night-club called the Weasel’s Tail. It was a great place for singles and weary travelers to unwind … a place full of total strangers. Dan had first come across it during a search on the Internet. It was the first place he got his break.
He pulled into the parking lot underneath a fully-lit neon sign. It was a warm night, and the moon was full as the doors slid open and he walked into the lobby.
“Evening,” he said, “one to check in under Mr. Hall.”
The young man pulled up his reservation and said, “I see you’ve stayed with us before, Mr. Hall. Welcome back. What kind of room would you like?”
“Just one overlooking the pool and on the opposite side from the railroad tracks.”
“We can do that.” The man typed away, and in about thirty seconds he handed Dan his keycard. “Just let us know if you need anything. Also, we’ve got a great show in the Weasel’s Tail tonight. It might be worth checking out.”
Dan was busy watching a small group of women passing through the lobby toward the bar the clerk had mentioned. Maybe divorce won’t be that bad.
“Thanks, man.”
Dan didn’t spend a lot of time in the room, but he was getting some butterflies. He sat on the edge of the bed with an NBA game turned on, rubbing his feet on the carpet, reading a sheet of paper, a checklist of sorts, and reciting some items one by one. Got to let the beast out. No one knows who you are. Just do it and go home.
He took a quick shower and shaved again. He swapped out his clothes with a fresh set and slapped on some cologne as he checked his hair in the mirror. Time to do it. Let’s go!
Dan squeezed into a lone stool inside the Weasel’s Tail and allowed himself to morph into the crowd. The lounge was complete with a band playing, whirling lights, a dance floor, and a mirror ball. There wasn’t anyone dancing, though. Instead, most of the people were seated at round tables, enjoying the show. A waitress in a scanty pink silk outfit nudged into him.
“Sorry, I’ve gotta work though,” she said, shouting an order to the bartender. “Two car-bombs, one margarita, a pitcher of draft light, and a diet soda.” She looked at Dan again and said, “You need something, Sweetie?”
“It’s coming, but thanks.”
She brushed up against him again and said, “Well, if you need anything, just let me know.”
“I will,” he said, as she sauntered away.
Does that mean she likes me … maybe? Either way, it made him feel good. The bartender set his bottle on the table.
“You want to run a tab?”
“Here,” he handed him a ten, “I’ll just pay cash.”
Dan didn’t want anyone to know where he was, and he’d have to remember to pay with cash when he checked out. He hated the whole credit
card thing. He sure as hell didn’t want Ann to know what he was doing. She certainly didn’t let him know what she was doing. He glanced at the game on the TV above the bar, saw some of the show on stage, and listened in on some conversations. He was just killing time and checking his surroundings. There were plenty of pretty women and tattooed young men lurking about. Raucous laughter burst out from time to time. It was dim, and the floor was sticky, but the air was cool. He studied the people, oblivious to the spidery lashes that studied him. Before he knew it, he was on his 2nd beer, and his worries began to fade like the light from an old day.
An athletic woman with short two-toned hair sat down in the stool beside him. Her calves were muscular, and her skin was soft and tan. She had pretty lips and eyes that enhanced her chiseled face. Their eyes met, and she parted soft lips to speak.
“Mind if I drink with you?” she said in a voice that was fully unexpected.
Dan shrugged.
“Hey Asshole … Oops … bartender, another malt on the rocks over here,” she said, rattling the ice cubes in her glass. “Sorry, Hon, I just got divorced. Sometimes I forget manners, but only because men are assholes. Well, maybe not you. You look alright.” She raised her brows. “Alright, indeed.”
Dan sat on his stool, quiet and nodding for the next ten minutes. He was stuck between fascination and the fear to move. Her name was Charlene; she made that plenty clear when she whispered it in his ear. She wore a jean mini-skirt and a strapless white cotton top that enhanced her perky breasts. It captivated Dan. Her breath reeked of whiskey and dirty ashtrays, and her voice was as rough as an unpaved parking lot. Like a foul-mouthed angel, she shared the most intimate details of her most recent life history. The cursing and slander she used brought nothing but disgrace to the language called English. If a single f-bomb could destroy a football field, three minutes of her conversation would have leveled the entire city. Dan just nodded and smiled. There is no hope. And he prayed a little, too.
“I’ll be right back, Charlene. Will you save my seat?”
“You gotta go pee, Pretty Thing?”
It drew a smirk from the brown-haired bartender with the uni-brow.
“Yep, that’s it!”