I sat in my bay window, watching the children playing in the street for the millionth time. Every night, there I sat. I played my beloved Billy Joel albums and watched the children play.
I saw Tommy Jones, Danny Frick, and Mark Fisher throwing a Nerf football around. It would be a minute, but Jimmy Spellman would run up from the next street over to join them.
Jimmy was my son.
I thought about how I could let myself get into a circumstance where the only way I saw my son was through my window. I thought if my ex-wife, Carrie, knew he was that close, she'd run him home.
He always waved at me watching him and smiled. He was ten so he was old enough to get the gist of what happened between his mom, me, and her lover. Her "trade-up."
I think it was the way she told me about her leaving me for Greg that killed me most.
I came home from work on a normal Tuesday and said, "Jim, I'm pregnant."
I picked her up and spun her in a hug, telling her how happy I was. The only problem was, I didn't realize she was crying and not hugging me back.
I set her down and was about to talk about how we would need a larger house when she broke me.
"It's not yours, Jim. I'm leaving and moving in with Greg Allen."
"Greg "fucking" Allen. The neighborhood asshole. The bachelor prick, that drives the flashy Lexis and brings $200 bottles of whiskey to neighborhood parties. Who the fuck does that? Just bring a case of beer, guy, Jesus.
As soon as I realized what she said, I left the house and walked the two blocks to Greg's house and beat the cowboy shit out of him. He sure was surprised to see me at his door. I still don't understand why he was. She was moving in with him and already had her and Jimmy's bags packed--as I found out later. He had to expect an ass kicking.
So, the prick called the cops and I ended up going to jail for the night. Carrie got a restraining order against me, protecting her and Jimmy from me, and divorce papers were served on me a week later. I never did get to directly ask why she cheated on me.
***
The Nerf football game ended when Mark got called in for dinner and Jimmy blew me a kiss goodbye. I pointed to my mailbox at the curb and smiled when Jimmy opened it.
He jumped in the air and pumped his fist. I could hear him scream, "Yes!" as if he were next to me. I gave him a cell phone. My ex told him he couldn't have one until he was twelve.
I agreed with her that he was too young. I just wanted to stick it to her, and I'd deal with the fallout later. My sister said she'd take the blame for giving it to him.
He pulled out the note I left that read:
Jimmy,
I love you more than anything. You have to keep the phone hidden though. If you get caught with it, tell your mom your Aunt Jenny gave it to you. You have unlimited data, so you don't have to be on Wi-Fi to use it, and I have a card attached so you can buy games and stuff from the App Store. You've also got a music subscription, and I downloaded all of Billy Joel's music for you, so enjoy. I'm sorry I messed up and can't see you, but I miss you every day. My numbers are programmed in and so are Aunt Jenny and Grandma and Grandpa. Please don't call my number unless it's an emergency. I'll get in trouble with the police. There's a number programmed in under the name of Mike. That is a number I have for a different phone that can't be traced to me. You can text me at that number anytime but don't call me "dad" in the texts. Sorry, buddy, but it has to be that way for a while. Leave this note in the mailbox. I love you!"
The smile on his face melted me and I broke down. He crumpled the note and put it back in the mailbox. He took the phone, headphones, and charger and left the packaging. He shouted, "I love you!" and ran off.
Billy Joel was my favorite rock singer, and it was always an inside joke between me and Jimmy. He said he hated him, but I knew the music grew on him. Every once in a while, Jimmy would throw a song lyric out in conversation to see if I'd catch it. Yeah, it's weird, but it was our thing.
I remember when Jimmy got a D on a test and Carrie told him, "You're a straight-A student."
Jimmy said without missing a beat, "I guess I think too much."
I laughed and Carrie got pissed not realizing the play on the old "It's Still Rock And Roll To Me" lyric.
As I said, it's weird, but it's our thing.
***
I worked for a construction company as a jack of all trades mechanic. I worked on everything from small cars to big cranes, and I'd been doing it since I graduated high school. It was pretty good money, and I had a winter layoff each year giving me a nice break.
Carrie was a teacher. We met at a country bar and hit it off immediately. She never complained that I was a mechanic and I never complained she was a teacher. It was a normal courtship, and we were married within three years of meeting.
We bought a two-bedroom ranch house, with the plan of moving up as needed. I guess her idea of moving up didn't include me.
I suppose I was an idiot because I had no idea she was cheating on me until she told me she was carrying that asshole's kid.
No one liked him. The guys tolerated him, barely, and that was only so they could drink the Johnny Blue he always showed up with. The ladies avoided him like the plague, I guess all except Carrie.
I never wanted to know why or how it started, bad enough to find out. It was clear she wanted more than a mechanic for a husband. It didn't matter that I had a steady union job with a pension and benefits.
Hell, she never complained about money. We had a good amount saved and went on vacations, did Disney, and she bought all the clothes she ever wanted, so I was truly blindsided.
The only hint I had that something was different was she was putting down my job for a while before the end. It didn't matter that I made more money than her. No, I became "the grease monkey."
The first time she called me that, I was wiping my hands after changing her oil. She walked past me in the garage, and I grabbed her and pulled her in for a kiss. I got a smudge of dirt on her cheap cotton t-shirt, and she went ballistic.
"God, damn it, Jim! This is a new shirt and you've ruined it."
I laughed, "baby, it's a five-buck t-shirt from Walmart. I'll buy you a dozen for another hug and kiss."
I leaned in and she pushed me away.
"Hurry up and finish, grease monkey. I have to go to the store."
After that, she would call me the grease monkey whenever she referred to me. She called me by my name to my face, but I got annoyed with the barb really quick.
***
She'd been living with Greg for several months and the divorce was newly finalized when I gave Jimmy the phone. The restraining order was contested by my lawyer, but I screwed up and violated it by kicking Greg in the nuts when he dared show up at my neighbor's barbecue with my family in tow.
I knew I had to leave, but I hugged Jimmy as I was going, and Greg made a shitty comment about the growing baby in Carrie's belly being his and he called me a cuck-pussy. I lost it and kicked him as hard as I could in the crotch. Thankfully, my neighbor and his wife told the cops Greg was stopping me from leaving. I didn't get arrested for kicking him nor violating the restraining order. They did use the incident to show that they still needed the restraining order at the next hearing though.
A month after I gave him the phone, we were exchanging texts every other day. There were no declarations of love or references to me being his dad, but I was keeping up with his day-to-day life which is what I longed for. I was surprised he hadn't been caught with it, but it was working well for us.
One night, I heard the burner phone ringing and it surprised me. I never got calls on it, just texts from Jimmy.
"Jimmy, you shouldn't be calling..."
