Facets of Love
Chapter 6
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Robert Ryan Jones
December 2019
May left me.
I had trouble coming to grips with that simple fact. Nobody had ever left me before. The few romantic interests I had before meeting Mary all ended when I broke it off with the girl. I guess you could say that my parents left me when they died, but they didn't abandon me on purpose.
May was the first person to say, "I don't want to be with you anymore."
It shouldn't have bothered me. I was planning on doing the same thing to her. May leaving should have lifted a huge weight off my shoulders. When she walked out of my hotel room with suitcase in hand, I should have breathed an enormous sigh of relief and praised the gods of good fortune that I didn't have to endure a long, drawn-out bout of crying, pleading, and cursing.
May didn't throw anything at me. She didn't beg for a second chance. She didn't say how much she hated my guts but still ask to keep one of my shirts.
She just left...
Right after she said she loved me.
It rested heavily on my brain for the next several weeks. I was mostly okay when Mary was with me, and Martha occupied my body when Mary went to Gainesville. But when I went back to Oklas that December and May didn't magically appear - as if she never said goodbye and everything was back to normal - well, Manny said it best.
"Mr. Ryan, you've been a grumpy, miserable son-of-a-bitch all week. You have got to get over her. Get on your buckboard, put your wife and son by your side, point the horses west, and don't look back. Let Doc May disappear in your trail dust."
Okay, I had no intention of going west, but the old man's point was clear. I needed to move on with my life. Follow my plan. And since May was no longer a factor, the next step was dealing with the Martha issue.
December was the wrong time to tell Mary I was cheating on her with her mother. There is probably no right time, but I didn't want to ruin Christmas for the entire family, so I decided to wait until January. I also didn't want Martha involved in our initial discussion. I needed to get Mary by herself for at least one night so we could go through whatever needed to be done without outside interference.
The logical place to do that was in Gainesville, leaving Martha and Robbie at home. I'd drive up there Saturday afternoon, arriving just after her last class of the day. We'd go out to dinner and then get a hotel room. After confessing to my sins, we'd do whatever we needed to work out the rest of our lives together. That would be my only stipulation. We could stay in Tampa, move to another state, or take a rocket ship to Mars. As long as we stayed together, I would be happy.
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January 2020
Mary Spencer Jones
That holiday season was the best of my life. It was Robbie's second Christmas but the first he actually appreciated. There's nothing more fun than watching a one-year-old crawl under the tree while two dozen relatives placed bets on which ornament he'd break first.
My only regret was that Gloria couldn't be there. I invited her, but she graciously declined. Probably because so much family love would overwhelm her, make her cry in front of total strangers. Or maybe she didn't want to sleep in the same house as me but not in the same bed. She obviously knew I had a husband but hearing about him and seeing me snuggled up against his chest as we sat on the couch and watched "White Christmas" for the umpteenth time might have been too much.
A different person drove up to Gainesville that January. A year earlier, when I first made the trip, I was a scared teenager with little confidence and no friends. This time, I looked forward to the trip. Excited to get back to school and ravenous for more time with Gloria.
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Dr. Martha Weaver Spencer
I was not at all pleased with Robert meeting Mary in Gainesville.
I didn't mind taking care of Robbie by myself. I looked forward to it. I got a lot more attention from the youngster when his father wasn't around.
And there certainly wasn't anything wrong with a man driving two hours for the privilege of spending time with his wife. If he was a client, I would highly encourage it. But he wasn't my client. He was my lover. A part time paramour who I only got one day a week and one weekend a month. His decision to abandon me that Saturday not only decreased my monthly allotment of sexual gratification by 20%, it also spoke volumes about our relationship.
It was an obvious first step in his plan to be rid of me. He wasn't going to Gainesville for a booty call. He was sending me a message.
"You're okay in a pinch, but I'd much rather be with Mary."
Saturday night in Gainesville would eventually turn into Friday and Saturday night.
"Let grandma take care of Robbie while we play," he'd tell Mary.
After that, he'd take away our Sunday afternoons together.
"Martha can take Robbie grocery shopping while we run naked through the house and do it in a different room every week."
Moving away would be the final step. They wouldn't move far because they needed my babysitting services. But they'd move. I knew this because I'd caught Robert Googling realtors.
I thought about calling Mary. Warning her of what Robert was up to, but I didn't. For all I knew, she might be a co-conspirator in this mutiny. And I wasn't really worried. I saw this coming months ago and had taken certain precautions.
Let's just say I had an ace in the hole.
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Robert Ryan Jones