A slightly different take on a common trope.
Please read my profile for my stance on feedback. Feel free to email suggestions or start a conversation. Private messages work too.
Michael W Campbell, Don Henley: "Now I don't understand, what happened to our love. But babe, I'm gonna get you back, I'm gonna show you what I'm made of."
+ + + +
I wasn't born an only child. My older brother, Scott Jr., was riding his bicycle when he was struck and killed by a drunk driver. It was three in the afternoon. He was ten at the time. My father, Scott, went into a deep depression and started drinking heavily. Both he and my mother, Nita, became very clingy with me. My every move was planned. Yeah, it was a hassle, but even as a kid I understood why. Scott's drinking problem is now only an occasional thing.
Every chance he got, Scott would volunteer as a helper or coach. I'm not blessed with a ton of athletic ability, but I was always able to make the high school teams. Occasionally I'd start, but mostly I'd be the first off the bench. That didn't deter Scott from being my biggest supporter. He was very patient with me, helping me work through the things I'd done wrong in a game.
We fished and hiked together. When I went to college I played on the golf team. It cost more than a little, but Scott and Nita went to all my college events. Sometimes they were in Florida or on the left coast. They were always there for me. At times it seemed like Scott and I were brothers.
Once I married Sari, six years ago, it crimped our get togethers. Still, at least once a week, I'd swing by for a beer or some minor fix it project. Once or twice a month, I'd spend all day Saturday or Sunday doing some of the bigger projects. The house I grew up in was old, and had what appeared to be an endless supply of projects.
At times, Scott seemed very aloof with Sari. I even quipped "If I didn't know better, I think Scott is jealous of you."
Sari quickly responded "You know I'm beginning to think there's something to that."
+ + + +
Sari has me worried. For the last week, I've heard her muffled sounds of pain. She gets up early and, instead of using the master bathroom, goes down to the first floor and uses that bathroom.
The first time I noticed it, thinking that maybe she had heard 'a noise', I followed her down. When the bathroom door closed, I became curious. Standing close enough, I heard the unmistakable sounds of retching. My mind was presenting all sort of possible reasons, but my overriding concern was why is she not sharing this with me?
Retreating back to the master bedroom, Sari eventually came up and closed the master bathroom door behind her. The shower started and she finished her normal 'getting ready for work' routine.
I pondered the situation all day, which impacted my productivity. Sari rarely gets sick. The last time she retched was when she had morning sickness with our third child. We wanted three kids, and in a span of just over three years, we welcomed Brad then Jan and finally Adam. After that I had a vasectomy. Raising three was a challenge and there was no way I wanted more. My youngest, Adam, is fast approaching his first birthday.
On my way home I had to pick up diapers, so I was mingling in the baby section of the superstore. When I saw the early pregnancy test boxes, something clicked. My stomach immediately cramped at the thought. Could Sari be pregnant? I spent the next twenty minutes wandering the isles. Would she, could she, has she cheated? I had to eliminate that doubt. Looking over my choices, the simplest early pregnancy test to use required dipping the test strip in urine. How in the hell am I going to do that?
With the box of two test strips in my glove box, I avoided the highways driving at a nice leisurely pace. Talk about turmoil. Every time I thought about Sari cheating on me, my blood pressure skyrocketed and I gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. On the other hand, if she isn't pregnant I'd be so embarrassed that I doubted her fidelity.
So there I sat in my recliner, reading books to Jan and Brad, while trying to drown out the million voices in my head. When the kids were settled in bed, Sari plopped down on the couch.
"Mitch, you've been off in never never land tonight. Something on your mind?"
"I guess. Someone at work found out his wife was cheating on him. We all thought things were great with them."
Unfazed, Sari continued "Why is it bothering you so much?"
"It just does. You should see how it has devastated him. He's divorcing her."
Sari wasn't the least bit concerned "Maybe we can have a little fun tonight to ease your pain."
"No thanks."
And then the dots connected for Sari. Her body language changed immediately. No longer was she wanting to talk. Although the front room didn't need it, Sari started nervously tidying up. I mulled over my options while pretending to watch television. A plan came into focus by the end of the night.
+ + + +
About four months ago, Sari started working part time. Her mother watches the kids until lunchtime, and then Sari returns home and takes over. It isn't about the money, although every little bit helps, but it allows Sari time to spend around adults.
The next day Sari gave me the opening I needed to implement my plan. After dinner, I was playing with Adam when Sari handed me a list.
"Sweetie, could you run out and get some things for me?"
"Tell you what. I'll watch the kids while you go get them. It will do you good to get out of the house."
"Deal!"
As soon as I heard her drive away I rounded up Jan and Brad and made them use the potty. I flushed and cleaned the master bathroom toilet. Turning the water supply off, I flushed again until the tank was empty. Then I cupped the remaining water from the toilet into the sink. I used a washrag to sop up the remaining water. It was completely dry now. My hope, and flimsy plan, was that I'd be using the downstairs bathroom, when Sari came home, thus forcing her to use the upstairs toilet. We have another bathroom upstairs, but I took the tank top off and set it on the seat. Her best choice would be the one that I'd emptied.
It worked well enough. When Sari returned, I excused myself and hid in the main level bathroom. Hearing the stairs creak, I waited for the announcement.
"Mitch, the toilet won't flush!"
"I'll have a look. The other one wasn't working earlier" as I deliberately lied to Sari for the first time in our marriage.
Sari had changed into her sweats when she descended the stairs. I wasted no time bounding up to the second floor. There in the toilet was her urine sample. It only took a minute to get the first result. Pregnant. Actually finding out hurt worse than I expected. Closing and locking the bathroom door, I sat alone with tears clouding my vision. Using the other test strip, I confirmed the result. Positioning the test results, on the empty EPT box, Sari would see what I just saw. Turning the water back on, I symbolically flushed my marriage. Before descending the stairs, I put the other bathroom back into working condition.
After struggling down the stairs, I grabbed my keys and cell phone. Sari was putting things away in the kitchen.
"I'm headed over to my parents' house" was my parting statement.
Whether Sari said anything or not I couldn't tell. My head was about to explode. Does this mean divorce? How could it not? By the time I parked in front of my parent's house, I was numb. It took me another fifteen minutes of sitting alone in the moonlight to find the strength in my legs. I shuffled slowly to the front porch and rang the doorbell.
Scott flipped the porch light on and cracked the door open.
"Mitch? What are you doing here? Are you alright? You look sick."
Closing the door long enough to unlatch the restraint, the door swung open. I saw Nita fast approaching. Her hand immediately went to my forehead. You know mothers, always taking your temperature.
Although I didn't disclose why Sari and I were having issues, I talked with Scott and Nita for about an hour. My phone chimed with a text from Sari 'How much longer will you be?'
'I don't know. Go to bed.'
Scott said it best, if there is a way to separate good from bad "Are you better off with her, or without her?"
After hugs, I went downstairs to my old bedroom. Moving some boxes off of the bed, and pounding the dust aside, I flopped in the middle and stared at the ceiling. I thought about turning my cell phone off, but she knows I'm here so she'd only bother my folks. Five minutes after her text, Sari called.
"Mitch, I'm sorry" through the sobs "It's not what you think. Please don't leave me."
"Like saying I'm sorry is going to fix things? Not what I think? Go to bed Sari. Leave me alone. I need some space."
Through the sobbing gasps "Come home Mitch. We can work this out."
"I don't see how Sari. Don't call again tonight and please don't bother my parents" as I disconnected. I turned the volume on my cell phone down.
+ + + +
Sleep? Yeah right. Between anger and despair, my emotions bounced back and forth all night. Who, when, and always the big one, why? There were a few missed calls, and as many voicemails from Sari. When I didn't respond, last night, she resorted to text messages.
I listened to all of the voicemails. She really wasn't giving any details, just that she was sorry and didn't want to lose me. The text messages weren't much different.
Forcing myself to focus, I made it through the work day. Sari knew my schedule and my phone rang moments before I reached my car as I left work.
"Hello Sari."
"Mitch, please don't hang up on me" as her voice cracked a bit.
"Who's the father?"
"I don't want to tell you that."
Fuck her. I disconnected the call. Her next call came in a minute later.
"I need to know. Who's the father?"
"Mitch please don't make me tell you. You'd only be hurt knowing it."
"I need to know. You're making it too easy Sari. I will contact a divorce attorney tonight and get the process started."
That resulted in screams of NO and sobbing.
"Last chance Sari. WHO?"
"Please Mitch" was the last thing I heard before hanging up again.
I sat in my car pounding on the steering wheel. Her damn lover means more to her than me. Once my emotions were somewhat in check, I drove back to my folk's house. Asking around, one of my divorced coworkers provided a name for a lawyer. I left a voicemail as it was after hours now. Surprisingly, she called back around 7 Pm. Telling her my story, she asked me to stop by her office after work the following day.
+ + + +
Marian, my divorce lawyer, presented my choices "Do you want to request counseling?"
"Yes, if only to force her to name the father. I need to know."
"She might still decline to disclose his name."
It had been a couple of days since I'd seen my kids, so I asked Marian to contact Sari and arrange something. My preference would be where Sari would leave me alone. Marian motioned me out of her office. I waited in the reception area.
When Marian came out of her office "Mitch, the kids are staying with her parents for a few days. You are welcome to drop by any time."
