The Guy Across the Hall

I was 18 when I got married. I didn’t want to. I’d pretty well floated through high school. Being a jock, a member of the football team and the wrestling squad made life really easy in the small school, White Mountains Regional High, that I went to. I made some good friends who all left town for college as soon as they graduated. Me, I wasn’t interested in college. I preferred to work with my hands and loved cars so I ended up at Gallen Regional Vocational Center learning to become a mechanic. It was in the middle of that training when it happened.

I could understand them wanting to leave. The only real ‘business’ in the town was tourism - for the skiing and for sight-seeing. Carroll was the home to the Mount Washington Hotel which was the town’s biggest employer. The town’s only real claims to fame are that the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank were started at a conference in the Mount Washington Hotel in 1944 and the Mount Washington Cog Railway which has been climbing to the top of Mount Washington since July 3, 1869. That is, unless you also want to count that the top of Mount Washington is the sight of the world’s worst weather - literally! Hurricane force winds occur at the summit on average every third day and the world’s highest wind speed ever recorded - 231 mph - was recorded at the summit. The weather on Mount Washington has accounted for the deaths of over 100 people - not exactly what you’d call ‘paradise’.

My ex-wife had been my girlfriend in high school. Not that I really wanted one but she’d done most of the chasing after me. I mean, I thought girls were okay and I liked sex and all but there just seemed to be something missing in all of it. I guess we were stupid because she got pregnant. This made my parents somewhat disappointed in me and her parents furious. Seems they wanted there ‘little princess’ to marry somebody with more ambition than a ‘grease monkey’. I’d known they didn’t want her dating me and, frankly, if she’d broken up with me I don’t think I would have been that broken up about it. I think mostly she held onto me because it pissed off her parents.

Because Carroll one of the smallest towns in Coos County, the population only 689, her parents didn’t want to have a wedding there so we ran off and got married in front of a Justice of the Peace in Bethlehem which was down in Grafton County, came back the same day and moved into an apartment that my parents had helped me rent and her parents had helped furnish. I noticed it was pretty cheap furniture - almost as if her parents figured we wouldn’t last that long so there was no use in buying anything of good quality or that would last.

The only thing good about the whole situation was that six months into the pregnancy, after we’d already gotten married, she lost the baby. I say good only because I just couldn’t see bringing a child into what turned out to be a completely loveless marriage. I remember I’d talked to my Dad when the whole thing happened with her getting pregnant to begin with.

“Son, you don’t have to marry this girl if you don’t love her.” Dad had said to me.

“But, Dad, she going to have my baby. I can’t just walk away from a kid of mine. Could you?” I asked.

“I’m not saying just walk away. I’m just saying there’s other ways of being a father.” Dad insisted.

“Not and be any good at it.” I groused.

“Look, son, I’m only thinking about your happiness here. Ending up married to someone you don’t love is the worst kind of hell on earth.” Dad informed me.

“We get along okay. Maybe I’ll learn to love her.” I mumbled.

“Love ain’t something you ‘learn’, son. It’s something that grows. But it’s got to have a start. I just don’t see that here. A baby ain’t no way to start a relationship.” Dad said.

“No, Dad. It will be all right. The relationship will work. I’ll make it work.” I said, full of teenaged bravado and stupidity.

Those words came back to haunt me many times over the next three years that we lived together. The relationship never grew. I never fell in love with her nor she with me, really. Most guys think that marriage is for sex. Well, let me clue you! I don’t think we had sex 10 times in those three years. She would fuck my brains out when we were dating but after we married and after she lost the baby, she lost all interest - either in sex or me or both, I was never sure. The one thing I was sure of was that I was miserably unhappy and didn’t know what to do about it. Then Dad stepped in.

He dropped by the garage I was working at one day right at quitting time. He asked me to go have a beer with him. Since my wife was working second shift at a plant outside of town that made plastic containers, I was just going home to an empty apartment anyway. She and I were spending almost no time together over the last six months because they supposedly changed her from first shift to second shift but I wasn’t all that sure that the change had been forced on her. I got the feeling she requested it so that she could more easily avoid spending any time with me.

Dad and I drove to a local tavern where we grabbed a couple of drafts and Dad led me to a table in the back corner where we would have privacy. I could see that Dad had something he wanted to talk to me about and I figured it might be about my marriage but I was still totally floored by the first words out of his mouth.

“Son, your Mom and I have decided that we should hire an attorney and get you a divorce.” Dad said.

I sat there in shock, just looking at him with my mouth hanging open.

“I know this is a bit forward of us but, son, we just can’t stand to see you so miserable any more!” Dad said, looking me right in the eyes when he said it, daring me to tell him different.

I couldn’t of course. He was right. I was miserably unhappy. I had been ever since I’d gotten married. It was a wretched situation that I didn’t see ever getting any better. Though I couldn’t admit it at the time, I was more grateful to my parents than words could ever express for what they were willing to do.

“Now, Tommy, you’re over 21. You’re an adult and if you want to tell me to butt the fuck out of your life, I will. But we love you son and watching you is tearing your Mom and me apart.” Dad said and I could see the truth in his words by the pain in his eyes.

“Dad, I could never say that to you! You’re the best Dad a guy could ever hope for. I should have listened to you when this whole thing started. You were absolutely right. I had no business getting married to someone I didn’t love. And what you said about a marriage without love being the worst kind of hell...well, Dad...I’ve been there, done that and bought the t-shirt now.” I said, hanging my head.

“Son, we all make mistakes. You did what you did out of the best of intentions and a sense of honor. There was a baby involved and, I have to tell you, though I knew it was a huge mistake, I had a great deal of respect for you, son, for standing up the way you did and taking responsibility for what happened. However, that’s all changed. There is no baby and before there is one, you Mom and I just feel that now is the time to end this before it goes on any further.” Dad said.

“Ain’t much chance of there ever being another baby, Dad.” I said quietly.

Dad looked at me sympathetically.

“Yeah. I kinda figured that, son. It don’t take a whole lot to make a man happy and usually when he’s as miserable as you are all the time it’s because he ain’t getting his ashes hauled the way he ought to.” Dad said.

I know I blushed at this, because I could feel my face heat up. It had been a long time since Dad and me had ‘The Talk’ when I was about 13 and he caught me jacking off one night, and we really hadn’t talked much about sex since then. Actually, like most guys, Dad and I didn’t do a whole lot of talking. We would always spend time together, though. Dad loved to fish and so we’d go out to a lake nearby and go out in Dad’s small boat. We never caught much but that wasn’t the reason we went. The fishing just kind of gave us an excuse to be together, drink a few beers and talk. I’m not exactly sure why guys always feel they need an excuse to be together like that but they evidently do.

“So we’ve got an appointment set up for Friday afternoon at 3:00 o’clock. Can you take off from work?” Dad asked.

“Yeah. That won’t be no problem. Marty, my boss, he’s a good guy. He’s said a few things to me about seein’ me so miserable, too. I don’t think this will come as any surprise to him. There’s just one thing, Dad. I don’t want to move back home. No offense, but I want to live on my own.” I said.

“I understand completely, Tommy. No offense but I hadn’t counted on you movin’ back home. Your Mom and me have gotten used to being alone since you got married and we like it that way, if you get my drift.” Dad grinned at me with a twinkle in his eye.

I blushed again! There’s just some things that kids - even adult kids - find difficult knowing about their parents! Even if you know intellectually that at some point in time your parents had to have had sex because you exist - still, it isn’t something that’s real comfortable thinking about!

“Yeah. I get it, Dad!” I said ruefully. “It’s just that well...I don’t really have enough money to get a place of my own. We don’t have a lot put away and I’m gonna have to give her half of it.”

“Don’t worry about it, son. Your mom and me didn’t do much in the way of gifts when you two got married. I guess maybe it’s because we saw this day comin’. We can well afford to rent you an apartment. You just look around and find something you like.” Dad said.

The next afternoon, after work, I did exactly that. I’d bought a newspaper at lunch and started looking thought the ‘Apartments for Rent’ ads. I’d already told Marty, my boss, about what was going on. He just smiled at me and told me to take all the time I needed until this thing was over. He told me that he’d gone through the same thing when he was my age and he knew what it was like.

By the time Friday had rolled around and it was time to meet my parents at the lawyer’s office, I’d found a place that I wanted to rent. It was in an old but very well cared for building downtown over a small grocery store. The building was three stories and only had four apartments, all of them one bedroom units - two on the second floor and two on the third floor. This apartment was one of the two on the second floor which meant in the evening, after the grocery closed, I didn’t have anybody under me. Not that I was gonna do any break-dancing or anything, but I just didn’t like havin’ to worry about somebody downstairs bein’ disturbed.

We met with the lawyer that Dad had chosen. It turned out to be a young guy - not much older than me. He was the son of one of Dad’s poker buddies. He’d only been practicing law for a couple of years but this was not a very complicated divorce. In fact, it hardly seemed worth having a lawyer at all. We had no children and there were no ‘marital assets’ to speak of. My wife and I each had cars but they were both over five years old. Our bank account was barely over five figures and the only other asset was the furniture her parents had bought which I’d just a soon give to her anyway.

Because it was a ‘community property’ state, marital assets were basically just divided down the middle and there was no such thing a alimony. The state also had what was called ‘no-fault’ divorce, so all that had to be stated was that the parties no longer wished to be married and that was about it. The attorney told us it would take about six months, unless my wife contested the divorce - which was highly unlikely. The lawyer said he would serve her with papers on Monday.

After leaving the attorney’s office Mom, Dad and I headed over to the apartment that I wanted to rent. They were both impressed by how clean and well maintained the building was and at the size of the apartment. For a one bedroom, it was larger than the two bedroom I shared with my wife now and the rent was much more reasonable. My wife had demanded that we move into this ‘young adult’ complex which had a lot of amenities - most of which I never used, nor did she - and cost a great deal per month. The new apartment would run me less than half of what the one I presently shared cost. The landlord was the guy who owned the grocery downstairs so after he showed us the apartment, my Dad wrote out a check to him for first, last and security. I told Dad I’d pay him back, but he insisted that, like the attorney, this was something that he and Mom wanted to do for me.

All that was left was to tell my wife that I was filing for divorce. When she finally got home that night, she was surprised to see me up waiting for her. I rarely did that anymore. She looked at me funny and asked why I was up. I told her that we needed to talk. She seemed somewhat disconcerted and also somewhat wary and defensive at this announcement. We sat in the kitchen and I just flat out told her that I’d seen an attorney that day and that I wanted a divorce, that the papers would be filed on Monday and that I was moving out the next day. I told her I was quite willing to split the bank account with her and she could have all the furniture that her parents had bought.

She sat there looking somewhat dumbfounded - like this all came as some kind of surprise. Finally she just shook her head and began laughing. I asked her what was funny.

“I already have an appointment with an attorney on Monday. I was going to file for divorce. I had intended on telling you tomorrow. I guess we both know what a mistake this has all been.” she said.

“Yeah. It has been. I don’t know if it was yours or mine or both and, frankly, I don’t care. I just want out.” I said.

“I plan on moving back in with Mommy and Daddy.” she said, so I really don’t need the furniture. “If you’re moving to your own place, you probably will, so you’re welcome to it. It will at least save you some money.” she said.

I thought for a second about that and decided she was not only right, but she apparently was trying to make some kind of generous gesture now that she knew that I wouldn’t fight her on a divorce and I was just as eager as she was to end this farce we called a marriage.

“Okay, I said, but the law says we’re supposed to split everything and there ain’t nothin’ really to split.” I said.

“It’s okay. My car’s newer and better than yours - that should even things out.” she said.

“I guess I’ll sleep out here on the couch, tonight.” I said.

“Why? There’s no reason for that. I think we can trust ourselves enough to sleep next to each other one more night.” she said.

Knowing how little had gone on in our bed other than sleep - especially for the last year - I supposed she was right. We went to bed and in the morning, she was gone when I woke up. There was a note on the kitchen table telling me that she’d went to see her parents to give them the news of the divorce and that she was looking at moving out that afternoon or as soon as she could get her father to come and get her things. I decided to stay in the apartment one more night and called some of the guys at work to come and help me move on Sunday.

Deciding I didn’t want to be around when my soon-to-be-ex-wife came back with her parents to get her things, I went over to the apartment and decided to look around it and decide where I was going to put the furniture. I drove over to the apartment, walked up the stairs to the second floor and I no more put my key in the door than the door opposite mine opened.

There in the doorway stood a big guy! Now, I’m no slouch at about six foot but this guy had me by three or four inches and with shoulders a mile wide and a chest and upper arms showing in his ‘wife-beater’ that said he either did very physical labor or he very seriously worked out. His hair was black and his eyes a crystalline blue. I could tell that he was about my age - maybe a couple of years older. He was wearing an old pair of gym shorts along with the wife-beater and was barefoot.

“You the new guy?” he asked.

“Yeah! My name’s Tommy. Tommy Driscoll.” I said.

“Pete.” he said, sticking out his hand “Pete Blackstone.”

His hand shake was firm without being over powering. It was clear that this young stud had nothing to prove. I noticed, immediately, however, that he wasn’t from around Carroll - or anywhere in New England for that matter. He didn’t have the distinctive ‘twang’ of the New England accent.

Now a lot of New Englanders have a strong resistance to ‘outsiders’ but I wasn’t that way. I welcomed anybody that would move to Carroll. After all, it was a pretty small town and, to my mind, it need some new blood in it! I just couldn’t place his accent because basically, he didn’t have one. At least, not to my ears.

“So how come you’re moving here? You just getting out of school?” he asked.

“No, just out of a marriage.” I answered.

“Oh, fuck! I’m sorry.” he said. “Me and my big feet that always seem to end up in my big mouth!”

“Nah! Don’t worry about it. I ain’t broken up about it. It was a mistake from the beginning. I should have known it wouldn’t work. I was too young and too stubborn to listen.” I said. “You ain’t married, I take it?”

“God, no! And don’t want to be - ever!” Pete laughed.

“Smart man!” I laughed. “Well, it ain’t gonna happen to me again - ever!”

“So when you movin’ in?” Pete asked.

“Tomorrow. I got some friends movin’ my stuff.” I said.

“Say, why don’t you come on in. I got some coffee just brewed. That is if you ain’t busy.”

“Nah! Ain’t got a thing in the world to do.” I said, realizing that it was true.

Besides, there was something about Pete that I just instantly liked. I don’t know what it was. I mean, it wasn’t his looks or nothin’ - not that he wasn’t quite a stud! He was just about what women called ‘drop-dead gorgeous’. I mean, even as a guy, I could see that! But there was just something there - something so nice - that I just wanted to get to know him. Somehow I had the feeling that we were going to become really good friends.

God knows, I could use a friend about now. I’d lost all my friends when they moved away to college and then to jobs in the big cities. Small town life wasn’t what they wanted. I don’t know why, but I didn’t have the same hankering to go chasing after money and living in smog-blanketed cities surrounded by millions of strangers. I’d grown up in this small town and it’s where I wanted to stay. Close to my family, close to my roots. But it was lonely with nobody to really talk to. There was always the guys at work and sometimes I had gone out with them to get a beer after work but nothing seemed to ‘click’ with any of them. I don’t know why.

But now with Pete, that was a whole different story. Something seemed to ‘click’ almost from the moment I met him. When he ushered me into his apartment, I was amazed at the place. It was a mirror image of the one that I’d just rented but configuration was where all similarities stopped. The living room was furnished with a long couch and what looked like two, deep comfortable chairs all upholstered in leather of a deep, rich reddish brown. The three leather clad pieces were grouped around a large coffee table in dark wood facing a wall on which hung a huge plasma screen and what looked like enough electronic sound equipment to outfit a good-sized Best Buy! A huge rack of CD’s and DVD’s also occupied space against the wall. I could see the pieces of what looked like (and which were) a very good home theatre sound system. The walls were stark white and the only color in the room came from two large modern paintings on the other walls adding slashes of color from deepest red to shocking blue. The floors had been stripped to their hard wood and polished to a high gloss with no rugs covering them to hide the beauty of the wood.