Although not spoken out loud, my first wife and I were heading to a divorce anyway when I was informed that she was cheating. We were barely twenty when we got married, thought we knew everything and were shell shocked when life proved we didn't know shit. Add three girls in five years and things went from bad to worse. My wife, Livy, didn't want three, I am not sure if she wanted any. In hindsight, number three put her over the edge.
I worked in a plumbing parts distribution center; I wasn't the owner, but the old man kept dumping more and more of his responsibilities on me. It did allow me standard working hours, so I was usually home by 4:30 every day.
The baby was three months old when Livy told me she had a job, working as a waitress in a pizzeria and bar about 15 minutes away three days a week. She had a great plan, she would leave as soon as I got home, work till 8:00 and be home in time to help me get the kids in bed.
We hadn't gotten along since she realized she was pregnant with number three. Maybe it was postpartum depression, but things went from bad to worse after the baby was born. I looked forward to her working, the extra money would be nice, but I really looked forward to the tranquility of not having her bitch in my ear when I came home.
Back when I was in high school, my friends talked me into taking a cooking class
so after my senior year I could flip a pretty good omelet plus a bunch of other things. Dinners three nights a week weren't a problem for me.
Three nights a week quickly turned to five nights a week and 8:00 eventually turned to midnight. That's if she didn't stay over at her friend Angie's house which was next door to the pizzeria.
I can't tell you how much better my life was the more hours she worked. Our arguments dropped to almost none but more importantly, I was having fun with my girls. With the exception of changing diapers, I tried to make everything fun. Tuesdays were making your own taco night. I would cut up a bunch of vegetables and cheeses and the girls could put anything they wanted on them. Fridays became make your own pizza night with store bought pizza shells. Saturday mornings became make your own pancakes. I would mix the batter, and the girls would decide what they wanted in the pancakes, bananas or apples or chocolate chips or whatever else they wanted. Sunday was something similar with omelets.
Bath time became a game where each kid washed their sisters' back and then turned around to wash another's back.
There was also plenty of playtime. Yes, I played with Barbies and sat for tea times. We went to parks and played on swings. The four of us would catch whatever new kids' movie was out in the theater. In the winter we would sleigh ride, in the summer we would visit the local swimming hole.
The girls never complained about their mother not coming with us, even if she wasn't working. It became the norm, either she was too tired or had stuff to do. The girls quickly stopped asking her to come with us.
Our sex life went from infrequent to nil. When she was pregnant with number three, we promised each other that we would quit smoking. I had been able to stop completely and became one of those ex-smokers that hated the smell of cigarette smell. I don't think Livy ever really quit, and when she would come into bed with me, I would find the cigarette smell in her hair revolting. It became worse when she started working because in addition to cigarette smoke, there was the smell of beer and pizza. She refused to take a shower when she got home because she was always too tired. I would usually end up sleeping on the couch.
Things were pretty good most of the time. Food shopping with three kids was always a challenge. Potty training number three was very challenging. I couldn't believe such a little thing could shit and piss so much and so frequently. And then there were the times when Livy would spend the night at Angie's and wouldn't make it home in time for me to go to work. I hate being late. That issue was probably our biggest arguing point until D-Day.
What I called D-Day was the day a woman was knocking on my door. The girls and I had just finished dinner, and I was putting the last of the dishes in the strainer when I heard the knock. I recognized the woman from one of Angie's many parties, but I could not recall her name. I invited her in, offered her a glass of iced tea and we sat at the kitchen table.
"You need to control your wife," she began.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," was my response and I didn't.
She pulled a manilla envelope out of her bag and proceeded to lay several pictures out on the table. In the pictures, Livy was sitting on some guy's lap. His hands were either under her skirt or under her shirt. They were sucking face in all of them. In one picture, Livy's panties were clearly around her ankles. There were no pictures of them having sex but a woman with her panties around her ankles while a man besides her husband had his hands up her skirt was clearly inappropriate. As I looked closer, the pictures were taken in Angie's living room and there were a lot of other people around.
I was lost in thought when I realized my oldest was standing next to me. The only way I knew she was there is when she asked if that was mom in the pictures. The other two were right behind her. I know it came out harsh when I told them to get to bed.
"You hired a private investigator," I asked?
"No, my brother took the pictures along with a lot of other people. Your wife didn't seem to care. My husband will when he gets hit with the divorce papers on Monday. That was the first time with my husband as far as I know. But according to my brother, it's the norm for your wife every Friday and Saturday night, just different guys."
She said I could keep the pictures and left.
The girls were crying because I yelled at them for no reason. I apologized and announced bath time with bubbles tonight. Did you know you're not supposed to let little girls take bubble baths? It was a good night to have a little fun.
Livy was home in time for me to go to work the next morning. I didn't say anything about the pictures, but I took them to work with me to make a bunch of copies. I made an appointment with a divorce lawyer. Our big conversation revolved around custody of the children. He said I would have to prove she was unfit and the three pictures I had wasn't going to get me there.
The rest of the week went normally. It hadn't been warm between me and Livy before I saw the pictures. I was probably colder, but she didn't seem to notice. I was surprised when she didn't leave when I got home Monday night. She was always off that night but would normally head over to Angie's as soon as I pulled into the driveway.
She sat down and had dinner with us. It wasn't anything special, just baked ziti. The girls were surprised that their mother was joining us for dinner. Livy didn't say much during dinner. She popped her head in when I was giving the girls their baths and she popped her head in when I was reading the girls their bedtime stories.
Livy was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a beer when I finished with the girls. I was surprised she had a beer; I don't normally keep them in the house. Beer doesn't taste as good without a cigarette, and I wasn't going to start smoking again.
"We need to talk," she said.
In my mind, 'oh really captain obvious' was playing. But I kept myself in check and said, "go ahead."
"I understand Vanessa came to see you the other day."
"Whose Vanessa," I asked. I wasn't playing stupid, but I did not know the visitor's name was Vanessa and I wasn't going to assume anything.
"Vanessa is the wife of the man I've been bopping for the last couple of weeks or was the wife since he was served with divorce papers this afternoon. She told me she gave you some pictures."
I didn't know what to say, so I didn't' say anything.
"He wasn't the first in case you want to know and I'm sorry his wife is divorcing him. But I have no regrets. Our marriage has been done for a while, even before I started working, probably before the baby was born."
"When you file, put in for full custody. I don't think I was meant to be a mother and watching you tonight, you seem to be a great father and a great mother. I don't want anything because it would only be taking from our children. You can reach me at Angie's if you need anything. I packed most of my stuff when the girls were taken their naps today and it's already in my car."
She sucked down the rest of her beer and got up to leave. At the door she said, "I'll continue to watch the girls when you are at work for the short term, but you should start looking for a longer-term solution. I need to get out of this town."
And that was the end of our marriage, no arguing, no tears no violent protests. Not even a whimper. My biggest fear was custody and that was solved. I also worried about support, most of Ivy's earnings were under the table but she didn't have any interest in support. I could make a claim for her car, but it was 10 years old, so I didn't see a point.
The biggest worry was daycare going forward. With the exception that it was very expensive, I didn't know anything about it.
I am certain my mother is clairvoyant. They say that the mother ends up with both her DNA and her baby's. My mother had taken a buyout a few years earlier and had been helping my sister with her little girl since her husband left her. I guess her children did not marry well. Our conversation was short, she wanted to come for a visit the following Saturday. Of course I didn't say no.
My mother loved her granddaughters. She took my place at the tea party, made the girls lunch and played Candyland with them. It gave me time to get all the bedding washed. I heard her ask my oldest where her mother was. My oldest told her she was probably working or at her friend's house.
After the girls were in bed, I found myself sitting across from mom at the kitchen table.
"What's going on with Livy," she asked. "She hasn't been here all day and the way the girl's act, that's the norm here."
"We're getting divorced mom."
"You need to reconsider that, Jack. I put up with your father for a long time so you kids would have a two-parent household."
As I went to get the pictures, I said, "Living in that warzone between you two wasn't any fun either. Livy and I haven't gotten along since before your youngest granddaughter was born."
"How was she conceived if you weren't getting along?"
"I don't know, probably make up sex I think."
"So, why get divorced now Jack, your girls are so young."
I handed my mother the pictures and she started crying. The only other time I saw her cry was when my childhood friend was killed. That was before I turned 15.
"I'm so sorry Jack, I had no idea. I thought your father had cheated on me one time, but I never had proof. Where did you get these?"
"The wife of the guy with his hand up Livy's skirt gave them to me. If you look at the background you can see a bunch of people walking around. She wasn't even trying to be discreet. Livy told me she had been bopping him for a few weeks and he wasn't the first."
"Oh my god Jack. You can't let her get custody of the girls."
"Livy wants me to file for full custody and I already have my lawyer working on it. Livy said she wasn't meant to be a mother."
